Earlier tonight my mother told me the eldest son of their close friends had died in an accident. He was friends with my older sister, his younger sister is my younger sisters best friend and I'm friends with the brother in between the two. I didn't know him that well but still have cried quite a bit. I pray for his family, friends and the people like me.

He wasn't sure what to do. He just sat there and stared at the man in his door way. Time seemed to stop as he tried to make sense of what he had heard.

"Colin Wilkes is dead."

Alfred had made the statement very clear.

"Damian…?"

"In his room pretending he's fine." That was all Dick needed. He was up the hall in a flash. He had to force himself to slow down and not just burst in.

"Dick!" Burce's voice stopped him before he could finish turning the handle.

"Yeah…?"

"Look after him. I'm heading into town to… deal with the details… the orphanage can't afford to do anything. Call me if you, if he, needs me home and I'll be here as far as I can." Dick nodded and watched his father walk down the hall. Taking a deep breath he finished turning the handle and slowly entered the room.

"Damian?"

"I DON'T KNOW… I'm not okay… what do I do Dick?" Damian twisted on his bed to face his older brother. His eyes were red and his nose running. There was also a handful of tissues on the floor next to him.

"Whatever helps. We can get something to eat, go for a walk or just sit and talk. Do whatever you need to do for yourself." Dick sat down next to his little brother and wrapped his arms around him, and for the first time Damian leant into the embrace and cried.

"Tim its Bruce." Tim smiled at his father's introduction, his mobile had called id of coursed he already knew who was calling.

"What's up?" he flopped back onto the couch and started looking for the remote.

"Colin's dead." There was silence for about half a minute as Tim froze.

"As in Damian's friend?"

"Yeah."

"How?" Tim couldn't fathom what could have happen to the boy without it big enough for the bats to have been there, Abuse was a rather challenging opponent.

"Car accident." A deep breath was Tim's only reply.

"Dick at home with Damian. I'm at the orphanage helping out with the details. I need to go." The call ended, no good-bye or advice on what Tim was meant to do. He didn't get along with his little brother but something's made sibling squabble's irrelevant, this was one of those times. Grabbing his keys and wallet Tim headed for the manor.

Damian was curled up on the couch in Dick's arms when Tim walked in. Damian looked up at him with red eyes then re-buried his face in his brothers shoulder.

"I'm just dropping a few things off then heading home." Tim stated, taking Damian response of silence as a cue he wasn't wanted.

"NO!" Both older boys jumped as Damian flung himself off the couch and into Tim.

"Please don't drive." It was a struggle to hear the small boys plead.

"Okay I'll stay." Damian then settled back on the couch with Dick. Tim noticed for the first time that Dick's eyes were also quite red, he seemed to have cried as much as Damian.

That's when in hit him, a deep sadness in his chest. Slowly it coursed tears to form in his eyes. At first he cried slowly, just a few tears leaking from his eye. Why was he crying? He hardly knew the younger boy. As he watched he two brothers it became clear. He didn't cry so much over the boy's death but his brother's pain. He cried because he knew what his brother felt.

Tim couldn't let he's emotions make a problem for his brother so taking a deep breath he did the only thing he could think of, he started cleaning.

Damian watched Tim flutter around the house cleaning everything, moving things till they were in a position he deemed perfect.

"What's he doing?"

"Coping with shock."

"By OCDing the house?"

"Damian we all deal with things differently. I cuddle and cry… a lot. You trash everything you can get your hands on till you tire yourself out then you snuggle and cry. Bruce puts up a wall with no doors and acts like he isn't hurting. Tim cleans, obsessively."

"Why is he sad? He didn't know Wi… Colin? What's he need to cope with?"

"You're his brother and you mean a lot to him even if he doesn't say it. This is hurting you so it's hurting him. I didn't know him to well either but I can't seem to stop crying. You cry for the loss of your friend, we cry for you."

Bruce came home to find all of his boys snuggled together under a rug in the cleanest lounge room he'd ever seem.

Death is a hard thing to deal with. Whether it be someone you love, someone you knew or the loved one of a friend-or family member. We all cope in our own way. Its best to cope the best you can and let others cope in their own way.

I hope none of you reading this ever have to cope with such losses at a young age.

Dedicated to Andrew (21 in June)-even thought I know your not into Batman-

Love,

AtarinMAK