"So, explain to me again: What the hell are we doing here?", asked Doctor John Watson the consulting detective Sherlock Holmes he had solved crimes with so often, who shifted a little bit right next to him.
"I've already told you, our last client, a police officer from Gotham, called because he wants me to find out the secret identity of someone who calls himself Batman, so he can be arrested for his violations of the law".
John stared angrily to his partner, even if he couldn't see anything in the darkness.
"This part I've understood.", he mumbled through gritted teeth. "But why are we hovering in a dumpster at the middle of the night?"
Sherlock started to answer with his annoyed voice he uses when he thought someone asked a question the answer was obvious to.
"Batman only comes out in the night and in the street I decided we should wait for him, because a lot of thugs are running around here, isn't another possibility to hide than this dumpster. And I need to see him to know if my presumption is correct".
"But why -"
"Quiet.", the detective interrupted the other one. In a whispering tone he continued:
"Do you hear it?" Heels clattered over the asphalt fast, a rapid breathing echoed in the alley. More steps followed. "A woman is running away from two men". Then the sound of steps stopped and you could hear a female scream.
"Sherlock, we need to help her.", John said, hands already over him to open the dumpster. Sherlock slapped his hands away.
"Wait.", he hissed.
Before the doctor could disagree a deep, dark voice cut through the air.
"Let her go and maybe I won't hurt you so much".
The tone of voice would even make soldier flinch. John was the living proof.
Another male, hysterical voice was heard: "It's the Bat! Dude, we need to leave!"
"Why? I'm not afraid of someone who-"
Then they heard fists meeting skin and sounds as if two bodies were falling on the street. You heard the woman suck in a relieved breath.
"Thank you so much, Batman".
"Use the longer way next to the shops to get home after work, there are more people, it's safer".
"Yes, yes, thank you".
Steps could be heard again, they got quieter with each.
"And now you two,", the bass like voice began again, "Get out of the dumpster".
Sherlock opened it without hesitation and got out. John wasn't so sure if it was a good idea, but he followed anyway. What he saw was a man dressed up completely in black with a cape, boots and a mask with pointy ears. Around his waist he wore a belt with many pockets and on his chest a bat was printed. It should have looked ridiculous, but in the dimmed street light the man actually looked terrifying.
Sherlock broke the silence by trying to introduce them.
"I am Sherlock Holmes and this is my -"
"I don't care who you are or who hired you, just stop following me and leave my city or I will make you. I don't need more problems to deal with".
Without giving Sherlock or John the chance to answer he grapple hooked away and was gone in a second, melted with the night.
"Bastard.", John mumbled, disbelief in his voice.
Sherlock felt the strange urge to defend this vigilante who was rather admirable if you thought about what he went through.
"No, actually he was a child of two married parents, so no bastard. But when he was at the age of six to ten his parents were murdered, probably directly in front of him, definitely so that he could see it. There was a third person he loved though, it's the same man who raised him. As usually you saw, you even heard him, but you didn't observe".
"Alright, that something traumatized him I got too. I mean, you don't run around dressed up like a bat for nothing. But how can you possibly know the other things?"
"Someone who becomes a hero, or a villain for the matter of fact, needs motivation. Something strong enough to make them go on, even in the worst situations, but first of all makes the idea of putting on a costume and practising vigilante justice sound not only like a good one, but like one you should live yourself. People you have such a strong relationship with tend to be sisters or brothers, which isn't an option since he's clearly an only child, lovers, but the boy was too young to be that affected if he even had such a partnership which is unlikely, or parents, the only left possibility. But why both parents? If the one of them was still alive, the boy would have stayed with them. Obviously though he was raised by someone else than his parents. He must be of a wealthy family, otherwise he couldn't afford this costume and all the gadgets he uses. Often there a two types of a rich family: Arrogant and superficial, probably won or inherited the money, or smart and helpful, worked hard for the money and want to make the world a better place with it. The second option is the one fitting our dark knight. It shows one of the reasons for doing what he does: He wants to make the world a bit better, just as his parents would expect it of him. But that also explains why none of his parents raised him: First, they were too loving, too careful, to allow their son doing something as risky as fight crime on his own. Second, the one who raised him didn't only support the orphan's actions, but probably also trained him, which make a military background most likely. This makes clear that none of the parents could have raised the boy, they didn't have time for armee, as I said: They worked hard for their money. So both parents died. But who raised him? The fighting style leads to the conclusion that it was a man, one who was already close to the boy. A grand father would have the time to do it, but wouldn't be able to train him. There are actually a lot of possibilitys who could do it, but nothing would be more than a vage guess and guessing leads to wrong conclusions, so I'm gonna stop with this.
Let's concentrate on his age: If he was younger than six, he most likely wouldn't remember enough of the murder for it to influence his further actions this much and if he was older than ten, he probably would have dealt better with the loss.
The fact that the so called Batman could see the murder is even more obvious than the other ones, because it's just another motivation for his actions: He feels guilty for the brutal crime. That he saw it makes him think he could have prevented it somehow, now he tries to make up for it. Of course, all of this under the assumption that he hadn't had any mental problems before".
John needed a short pause to think about it all.
"Alright, maybe not such a bastard. Do you know if your presumption is right already?"
"Yes, I'm sure of it. But if you can't see the obvious facts which show us, who the masked man is, you have to wait until tomorrow.", Sherlock answered with a small, smug grin. Once again he was clearly pleased with his knowledge the doctor didn't have by now.
"Let's head back to our hotel. Even I think a bit of sleep would be a good idea now".
John knew he couldn't make Sherlock tell him anything, so he just nodded, despite his curiosity. Sleep really sounded nice, after they spent the last nights looking for a street where a lot of crime was happening (Gotham had many of them.). A few hours he would be able to wait.