A/N: So, I randomly had this thought the other day: What if Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle had been switched at birth?

I rewrote the pilot after realizing how rushed and flat the original was. I felt as though I could've done so much better had I not rushed it, so I took down the original and reposted this.

And without further ado, I give you Role's Reversed.

Pilot: The Switch

It was February 19th.

No one knew at the time, but Gotham's Dark Knight was about to be born.

Martha Wayne was rushed into the hospital, already in labor and yelling from the birth pains. A frazzled Thomas Wayne ran alongside her, holding her hand and trying to tell her everything was going to be okay, even though was practically shaking with a mix of anticipation and fear.

It was finally happening; they were going to be parents of a little boy or girl. Neither he nor his wife had wanted to know what sex their first child would be, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

She was pulled into a hospital room where they were separated, and the labor continued for another two hours. During this, Thomas nearly pulled the majority of his hair out while he stood outside the room, listening for a cry.

Finally, a baby started to scream from inside the room and Thomas dropped to the ground in relief and utter joy.

And that was when everything took a dark turn.

A nurse yelled, "Something's wrong, take him next door, stat!"

A young, black nurse took the baby boy through a curtain that separated the three conjoining rooms from each other.

Another young woman was waiting there, also with a wailing newborn, a little girl with beautiful green eyes.

The nurses' next actions would change the fate of Gotham forever.

They switched the babies.

Nodding curtly to one another, they both returned to their respective rooms.

The young woman told Mrs. Wayne, "Congratulations, it's a girl!"

Next door, a similar scene was taking place.

The other female nurse handed the baby boy to a beautiful, blonde mother who looked at him with nothing but love in her eyes.

The new mother beamed at the nurse as she announced, "Congratulations Miss Kyle, you're the mother of a beautiful baby boy."

Bruce Kyle and Selina Wayne would've never met.

Their paths would've never crossed except for by chance.

Bruce grew up in the Narrows with his mom, always a bit of a troublemaker but it was always in good fun.

Life was good for him.

As he got older, he started to notice his mom becoming more and more distant, often forgetting to make dinner, or locking her door all day.

Bruce thought nothing of it.

One day when he was five, however, he came home from playing with the stray cats to find his apartment empty, his mother nowhere to be seen.

He didn't think anything of it, as his mom was always coming and going.

It wasn't until it was past his bedtime when he realized something was wrong. He put himself to sleep, and, when he woke up, she still hadn't come home.

He walked across the hall into his mother's room and found that her drawers had been emptied and her suitcase was gone. Confused, he searched the room for any hint as to where his mother was.

He found nothing except for a locket. A little necklace that he'd never seen his mother wear, but, at least it was something.

Hours passed, which turned into days, and then a week.

It took that long, over a week, for Bruce to realize that his mother had left him.

Obviously, he did what any five year-old would do in that situation: he cried.

At some point, his little, stubby legs brought him out of his apartment and out onto the streets of the Narrows.

He walked for who knows how long, tears and snot running down his face as he wailed for his mother.

His feet carried him into the road. He didn't care that a car was barreling down on him at forty five miles an hour, he didn't even notice.

That was almost it.

The Dark Knight of Gotham would've never been created. The city left to defend itself from the onslaught of crazy that was about to arrive.

Thank God, someone thought otherwise.

Two strong arms reached out and picked him up like he was nothing, swinging him back to safety on the sidewalk just as the car passed. The car missed him by mere inches.

Bruce kept on crying, but through his tears he was able to make out a face. A big, burly man with a neatly trimmed beard was holding him by his shoulders, asking him who he was. The man eventually pulled Bruce into a hug and held him there until he calmed down enough to answer his questions.

The man told him in a soft, comforting voice, "Hi, little one. I'm Henry Grant. What's your name?"

"B-B-Bruce…" he sniffed. "Bruce Kyle."

"Bruce. It's nice to meet you Bruce. Can you tell me what you were doing in the street? Where is your mommy?"

Bruce's eyes welled up with tears again, and he started crying.

From there, Henry brought Bruce back to the gym that he ran and lived at. He gave Bruce food, clothes, a home, and even a kind of older brother in his son, Ted Grant.

It took a couple weeks, but Bruce eventually adapted to his new life.

He liked living with the Grant's, and they liked his company as well.

Later on, Bruce would learn that Henry's wife had been killed and it had just been Henry and Ted for two years. Bringing Bruce into the family seemed to be what they all needed.

Bruce slept in the loft above Henry's gym most nights, usually waking up early to train with Ted.

Ted was a boxing prodigy, and for the first few years Bruce always got the living shit beat out of him. But, even then, he loved fighting.

As well as becoming a really good fighter, Bruce was also known in the area for his pick pocketing skills and his odd ability to practically disappear into thin air.

He'd learned a lot about pick pocketing from the other street kids. In particular, a kid with a constant, crazy grin named Jack had taken Bruce under his wing about doing illegal stuff. He'd never quite liked Jack, but the older boy seemed to have an odd, yet sincere fascination with him, so Bruce freely took his advice.

Sure, while Bruce was learning he got caught, a lot, but he always learned from his mistakes. Henry taught him that it was okay to make a mistake once, but if you made it twice, you were a fool.

Once again, life was good.

One particular night when he was twelve, he was running across the rooftops of the theater district. Being a seasoned street kid, he knew that running on a wet night like that one could be dangerous, but the danger of it was what made it fun.

He leapt onto a raised ledge of a building and took in the full view of Downtown Gotham. Breathing in the smoggy air from down below, he descended from his perch, dropping down onto the awning of a storefront and then down to the streets below.

He grinned. It was Friday night, a perfect time to hunt.

Spying a woman with overloaded shopping bags, he pulled his switchblade from his pocket and, in a flash, cut open the bottom of the bag. A single apple went rolling and he grabbed it off the ground. Not a few feet away, three men were standing at a corner, talking. As Bruce passed, he reached into one of their coat pockets and grabbed the chump's wallet. As soon as he did it, Bruce knew the guy would notice. When he'd removed the wallet, his arm had brushed up against the man's chest which would've been an odd, noticeable feeling.

Even then, he'd almost made a clean getaway when the man shouted for him to stop.

Needless to say…Bruce didn't stop

Instead, he rushed towards the side of a building, ran up the wall for three steps, and then grabbed the bottom of a fire escape ladder. As Bruce ascended, the man eventually gave up, so Bruce dropped down into an alley a couple blocks away.

Removing anything valuable, he pitched the empty wallet into a storm drain and was about to turn in for the night when he noticed three figures walking his way.

Not wanting to be seen so close to the crime scene, he quickly ducked into another fire escape and hid. However, he couldn't help but watch longingly as a happy family passed him; a father, mother, and beautiful girl around Bruce's age.

Unconsciously, Bruce's gloved hand drifted to his left breast pocket. Hidden away inside was the locket that he'd found all those years ago. For some reason, he found himself unable to get rid of the necklace.

He glanced down the alley and saw another figure approaching.

The little alarm in the back of his head started going off. The man was masked and clad completely in black.

Something was about to go wrong for the family, Bruce knew it.

When he reached the family, he pulled out a metal device, a pistol, and held it up at them.

Bruce should've just left. He'd done things similar to what this man was doing. He was probably just trying to get by like anyone else from Gotham.

However, he couldn't seem to tear himself away from the confrontation.

The father had stepped in front of the two girls and was clearly obliging to any demand made by their attacker. The father handed over his wallet and the woman's purse before the mugger pointed the gun at the woman's throat. She reached up to unhook her pearl necklace.

Even from a dozen feet away Bruce could see her hands shaking.

One of the strands broke and pearls went everywhere.

When the mugger seemed satisfied, he looked between the two parents. The little girl was still cowering behind her mother.

Then, the mugger shot the gun. Bruce's heart dropped and he recoiled from the shock of it. He saw the father drop, and then, a second shot fired and the mother fell to the ground. The mugger pointed the gun at the small girl.

Everything slowed down for Bruce. Everything went clear, like all his senses were peaked. He grabbed a stone from the ledge next to him and chucked it at a dumpster.

It made a loud, ringing noise when it hit, jarring the mugger's attention from the girl to the new sound. Thinking he'd been compromised, the man looked back at her and lowered his gun, running away from the scene.

That's when Bruce heard a sound that he would never forget.

The sound of Selina Wayne screaming.

Bruce, still in shock, just sat there watching the entire scene unfold.

First responders arrive, and they find the bodies there, as well as the girl.

They put a blanket around her and a female paramedic talks her down.

Bruce eventually tries to sneak away, but someone finally spotted him and the person barks at him to stop.

Bruce didn't stop.

Using his parkour abilities, he escapes the grasp of a police officer, ascending a few floors until he felt safe.

In hindsight, Bruce was ashamed that he left, but at the time he had been in shock from what he'd seen.

The sound would haunt him forever. The sound of utter terror and hopelessness that came from that girl, it rang through him constantly.

She was probably just around his age.

And to think…that could've been him had Fate given him a different hand.

But it hadn't. He was just a street kid, nothing special.

At least, not yet anyways.

It was the next morning when he found out who'd been killed that night in the alley.

Henry dropped his cup of coffee when he saw the headline.

Thomas and Martha Wayne killed by mugger, leaving their only daughter, Selina Wayne, behind.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who review on my original Pilot. I've already started planning out the rest of the series. It may be a few weeks before I post the next chapter, as in the past I've started projects on here before and never finished them because I didn't have an ending.

Thanks for reading and make sure to review and follow so you know when the next chapter comes out! Ciao!