Chapter Text
Damian is putting on his jacket when his Father walks down into the foyer, “Alfred will be at the theater to pick you up at nine. Have a good time with your friends Damian.” With a quick nod of the head and a promise to have fun Damian is out the door and on his way to the movies.
His friends are insistent on going to a new movie that he had given little thought towards, that only it was supposed to be about lions. Now Damian couldn’t find the appeal in making a live action movie that is still all animated but he can admit that the movie was enjoyable. The movie ended at 8:45 with the perfect time to say goodbye to his friends and wait for Pennyworth.
With a deep breath Damian steps outside of the theater as he waits. The cool air of Gotham makes him aware of the damp smell of storm clouds when it is about to rain that mixes with the buttery smell of popcorn from the movies. He is just about to check his watch again when he hears a strangled gasp.
Damian looks across the way and he sees a girl younger than him being grabbed by two men twice the size of her. Even as a civilian he couldn’t stand by and let her get hurt, not when he could do something about it.
Damian sneaks across the street sticking to the dark shadows that seem to encompass the city. Now that he’s closer he can hear the girls cry’s and sleazy comments of the men, the smell of something rotten surrounds the two. One has a hand on the girl's head, her hair locked into his vicious grip. The other is grabbing at her though he can’t do much with her persistent struggles.
With a quickness that years of training form the league and then his fathers training he grabs at the second man’s hand. He prays his already loose grip off of the girl and he slams an elbow into his solar plexus. With the second one momentarily stunned he turns to the first who has let go of the girl in order to grab a gun.
He fires a quick but easily dodged shot and before he can fire a second Damian brings the man’s hand down to his knee and he hears the definitive sound of a broken bone. He slides the gun away from the creeps and turns to the girl.
He checks her over for any injuries but she seems to be physically unharmed. He goes to wipe a tear off of her face when a second shot rings out.
***
Batman is on his regular patrol when he sees a mugging. It’s an older woman who holds a gun out to a young man as she threatens to shoot him to get any of his valuables. He jumps down and stops the woman with a gentleness he doesn’t usually give his criminals.
He is in the middle of calling the GCPD when he hears a gunshot go off a few blocks away. He turns and grapples his way over. He is almost there when he hears a second shot go off and he pushes himself even faster.
***
He’s looking at the sky, or at least what he can see of it with all of the clouds coming in. Why did he look up again? Oh he feels he is on the ground huh that’s funny. He can’t help a small chuckle brush past his lips which turns into a gasp of pain as he feels his stomach light on fire.
Now His other senses start returning to him as the sounds of screaming fills his ears. He can’t help but wish that whoever was screaming would just shut up.
But with that thought he realizes that he can’t breathe he’s choking.
He’s dying.
No, not again.
Please not again.
Tears run down his face as he panics but he can’t hear anymore.
Well he can’t hear anything but soft humming.
He can’t taste anymore.
The popcorn has long been overtaken by blood.
He can’t smell anymore, the popcorn of the theater, the moisture in the air or the rotten smell coming from the men.
All he can smell is whisky and roses.
He can’t feel anymore. There is no more floor. No more blood. No more pain.
There are only two sets of hands welcoming into their arms.
And with these thoughts he closed his eyes.
***
Batman is almost there when he hears the scream; it's loud and painfully young.
He turns the corner to see a young girl screaming at a motionless body. He steps twirls the girl before he stops. He recognizes that jacket.
He saw him put it on just two hours ago.
He recognizes the street he’s on.
That damned theater that already took so much away from him.
He recognizes the eyes of the boy laying motionless and dead on the floor.
The green eyes that lay unseeing.
The green eyes of his son.
And there in that dark alley years after that dark night it’s not Batman seeing a faceless victim.
It’s not a boy screaming at his parents to wake up.
It’s Bruce Wayne clutching his youngest son to his chest as he screams.
It’s Bruce Wayne who lost a son in that same damned ally.
It’s Bruce Wayne who will mourn another dead child, but it is Damian Wayne who lays dead in his fathers arms.