Well, ladies and gents. Before you read this lovely oneshot, let me explain it a little. I can guarentee you'll be somewhat confused by it if you skip this, unless you know who Brendon and Vincent Pearse are.
You don't, you say? I thought as much.
Anaywhoo. Brendon Pearse is an immortal (well...almost) being who has decided to antagonize Gotham, and has thus dubbed himself The Ringmaster. He also decided to take a liking to one Jonathan Crane, rather onesidedly so on his part. His son is Vincent Pearse, whos mother is Harleen Quinzel. (don't worry kiddies, his parents hate eachother, and Vincent is nothing more than the product of the state of pissfaced intoxication.) Vincent can see people's deaths. I mean, not a long time before they happen, and let's face it, he can't do shit about it. I just like seeng my crack babies miserable. Anyways, dear Vinnie falls in love with one of my friend's characters who, in his own respects, somewhat holds the same mindset as Ra's Al Ghul. Some stuff happens and everything decides to go wrong for Vincent. This is the start of it. Clear nuff? Oh, joy^^ Read on then.
oh yes. Since my group of followers hold Dick Greyson(sp?) in the lowest respects, we decided that Robin ripped out poor Vincent's eye. That's why it's sewn up and all that jazz.
Silence exploded into the night, time slowing to a standstill. Pain ripped through Vincent's gut, his body slowly becoming numb. A look of surprise gradually filled Brendon's eyes as he stood there, staring down at his bloodied hands. He began to tremble, wordlessly looking from his son to The Scarecrow.
"...O-oh..." he whispered hoarsely, just before he dropped to his knees. Vincent choked wetly, his feet rooted to the pavement. Brendon looked up as an insane grin began to spread over his face. The Scarecrow raised his head to meet his gaze, staring coldly. Brendon took a ragged breath, his body trembling wildly as he did so.
"...And so ends my Freakshow..." he rhasped. He collapsed backwards, hitting the ground with a dead thud. It was then that Vincent cried out, a loud, horrible, ear piercing shriek. His feet became unglued from the cement and he bolted forward, skidding to a halt on his knees beside his father's limp body. Brendon's eyes were dull, and the gentle smile that Vincent loved so dearly lingered at his lips, forever immortalized on his face. His good eye welling with stinging tears, Vincent placed a trembling hand on The Ringmaster's face.
"Dad...?" he choked out, his whole body trembling. Whether he expected one or not, he got no answer. Hot tears streamed down his right cheek, blood seeping between the stitches on his left eye. Narrowing his good eye, he looked up at the menacing shadow that was The Scarecrow.
"You killed him!" he accused.
"You killed my f-" the word caught in his throat, and he choked on it. The stitching on The Scarecrow's face stretched into a sinister gron.
"I oNly DiD WhAt YoU wOuLd HaVe DoNe, ViNcEnT..." he said calmly.
"I trusted...You were supposed to be my friend, Professor! He-he...He LOVED you!"
"...BiG mIsTaKe." Vincent's brow furrowed in confusion.
"What....What I would have done...? What does that mean, Crane?" he demanded.
"YoU cAn SeE tHe FuTuRe, ViNcEnT. yOu ShOuLd KnOw..."
"What does it mean?!" Vincent demanded again.
"It MeAnS tHiS Is YOUR FaUlT, vInCeNt." The Scarecrow grinned, fading back into the shadows.
"Crane!" Vincent shouted in confusion and frustration. He wanted to know. He wanted to know why. He wanted to kill Crane for his wanted to understand why. But he didn't -He couldn't- leave... He looked back down, tearing up again. Sniffling like a lost little boy, he lowered to curl up next to his father for the very last time. Rain began to fall hard, The sky seeming to cry with Vincent. His small, pathetic noises were drowned in the pattering of the rain as he cling tightly to Brendon.
"Dad...I love you..."