Warning for Character Death.
No process is possible whose sole result is the extraction of heat from a reservoir and the performance of an equal quantity of work.
You will always lose something.
"Damian? Dami?" Timothy said groggily, he was waking up. Damian silently cursed himself for not giving him a large enough dose of sedative. Timothy should not be awake for this.
There was one thing Damian was sure of. Sacrifice. Every decision needed a sacrifice, nothing comes for free; anyone who tells you otherwise is planning to stab you in the back.
Damian said nothing, keeping himself in the shadows, out of Timothy's sight. He kept telling himself that it was okay; it was better this way. There was nothing any of them could have done differently.
Even though he knew that was a lie.
The decision to stay with his father meant he had to sacrifice his mother.
"Shut up Wayne." Damian grunted in a voice that was barely his own when he heard footsteps drawing closer. It would tell Timothy all he needed to know. He was not Damian Wayne; he was not Robin; Timothy was not Red Robin. They were simply Timothy Drake-Wayne and a mercenary dressed all in black, responding to the bounty on the older man's head.
His mother's decision to train him from birth lost him his childhood.
"What are you doing? What's going on? Let me go, you'll never get away with this." Timothy played the part of the scared but defiant CEO perfectly, he was ever the actor.
The men laughed, "Well thanks to our friend here, we already have."
He hit Timothy hard with the butt of his gun, usually such a blow wouldn't have caused much damage, but with the drugs still running rampant through Timothy's body he want down and stayed down.
His decision to save Gotham meant he had to sacrifice his Timothy.
"You got what you wanted, now call off the strikes on Gotham."
The men laughed at him, asking him why he cared what happened in Gotham.
"I have… investments here, important investments" He replies with a steal edge to his tone.
They laugh again, as though there's a private joke he's not privy to.
"Sure dude." The leader says whilst throwing something at him. It's a cell phone, one of the old indestructible brick like ones. "You stay here and we'll call you when the strikes are off. You move and Gotham dies. You don't pick up: Gotham dies." With that they're gone, taking Timothy with them.
It was the worst decision he had ever made.
Two days of nothing. The men had called, they tried to track it and failed, he tried to track their getaway vehicle and failed. Then a whole lot of nothing.
No bombs, no word from Timothy and no ransom demands.
Then every television network in Gotham was interrupted.
"Gotham city. I want you all to know what happens when one of your small insignificant philanthropists decide they can change your city for the 'better'."
Damian was numb in the chaos going on around him. Cries of "Timmy?" and "Where's this coming from?" did nothing to penetrate his tunnel vision as an image of Timothy appeared on the screen, beaten within an inch of his life and a gun to his temple.
"This, as most of you should know, is Timothy Wayne; heir of the 'great' Bruce Wayne and soon to be ex-CEO of Wayne Enterprises.
"Timothy here has been a thorn in our sides for far too long. The streets of Gotham had a system, the bigger fish eats the littler fish and everyone goes home happy, well everyone that makes it home. But no, Timothy here had to go and set up clinics and help centres across the city for the littler fish, he is the reason your city is at an all time crime low. Him. Not your fucking inept and corrupt police force. Him.
"Not even your precious Batman is coming to save you Timothy, not when it means that most of Gotham would go up in flames… what do people say? If we can't have it, no one can."
"So let this be a lesson to anyone who thinks they can help Gotham-"
The gunshot echoed through the cave and Damian's world came tumbling down.