A/N: I honestly have writer's block on literally all of my stories. "Holy Multiverse!" should be up soon after this—I'm just adding a few finishing touches ;)
This little thing is a Death In The Family™ fic, and my feeble, tentative attempt at a tear-jerker. Please tell me how it did in the second department. Please? There will be another linked one-shot to come called "Hysteric Hallucinating" and that's a second attempt at a tear-jerker… Pleease tell me how I'm doing.
("Holy Multiverse!" is the edited name of a request made by Echoes 01, a very much appreciated and valued reviewer of mine)
Cover art isn't mine!
Recommended Song: Don't Let Me Down, cover by Joy Williams.
Review, and I hope you like it!
As The Embers Burn
I'm going to make it
The single sentence repeated in his head as Batma—Bruce—floored the pedal to the Batmobile.
I'm going to make it.
He held onto the sentence like a lifeline.
I'm going to make it.
Because he will. He won't be late. After Bruce kicks Joker's ass, he's going to take Jason home to make sure he's okay—either way he will be—before lecturing him on leaving on his own—much less to another country—without telling anyone. Without backup. Without Batman.
Without his father.
Without Bruce.
For now, though, Bruce is going to focus on getting to Jason on time and keeping him safe and by his side and alive.
I'm going to make it.
The furious weather that raged by Bruce's windows mirrored the storm raging within him at the mere thought of Joker having had hours alone with Robin.
With Jason.
With my son.
He's going to make it.
Not because he wants to, but because he needs to. He's not Batman going to rescue Robin, he's Bruce Wayne going to rescue Jason Peter Todd-Wayne.
He's a father going to rescue his son.
His fifteen-year-old son.
He isn't Batman inwardly, but externally he is Batman, and that's a very good thing right now, because Batman can't be late. Barman won't be late.
Batman isn't late.
Batman can be nowhere, yet everywhere…
(except for being there when his partner—when his son—needs him)
NO!
No.
No, he can't think like that. The warehouse is there, he can see it even through the snow, he's almost there, he won't be late, he's right there he just needs to get out of the Batmobile and run as fast as possible.
So he does. Bruce jumps out of the Batmobile, leaving it to automatically stop and park somewhere hidden as he makes a mad dash for the warehouse where that Goddamn clown took his son.
He's almost there. A few more feet…
Bruce is elated.
I'm going to make it. Hold on Jason, just a few more seconds and I—
And the warehouse explodes.
Bruce freezes and lifts his cape as a shield from the falling debris.
No, no, no, no, no, no—
He's the Goddamn Batman; he's supposed to always make it—always be on time—
Jason.
The cape is thrown aside as fear grips Bruce's chest like a constricting viper and he runs for the remains of what once was a warehouse.
He doesn't need to stop and make sure there aren't any civilian casualties, at least, because Joker chose a warehouse far from any civilization. That is both a good, and bad, thing. Good, because, like previously stated, no civilian casualties or injuries to be concerned about. Bad, because the only reason Joker would have done that, would be so that there's nobody around to hear any probable screams.
…Even if there had been civilians to be concerned about, Bruce wouldn't have cared. Not even Batman would have.
Bruce's son had been in that warehouse.
Batman's sidekick—his Robin (but Jason's so much more than just a sidekick even to Batman…)—had been in that warehouse.
Batman—and Bruce's—light had been in that warehouse.
So, no, Batman wouldn't have cared if a civilian suffered a scraped knee. Batman wouldn't have cared if a civilian died. If anything, those are just more things to add to Joker's rap sheet.
(and Robin's murder)
NO!
Bruce reaches the mounds of rubble and immediately searches for any shifting debris for signs of life—for any sign of his son.
Nothing moves other than the embers and snow that fall to the ground.
Embers catch on Batman's armor but he brushes them away as he falls to his knees and digs through ash and rock that dull vibrant colors of yellow and red.
Bruce is hoping that's just a bounce-house or something—anything—other than the non-moving body of his son.
Batman is hoping that's a clue to follow the Joker—anything—other than the lifeless body of his sidekick—his Robin.
Because without Robin, there is imbalance. Batman and Robin are Yin and Yang. Robin is the light that balances Batman's darkness. Batman has his own light, but it is surrounded by the darkness. Robin has his own darkness, but the light overcomes and overpowers it.
Because without Jason, there is emptiness. Bruce and Jason are father and son. Jason is the happiness—the thing that fills Bruce's life—in the grandness of the Wayne Estates. Jason brings good with him wherever he goes, despite his devil-may-care attitude. He always has a purpose for what he does, and it's always a good, commendable one. The fights Jason gets into at school? All of them have involved either him bring provoked for extended periods of time, or Jason standing up for those who won't do it for themselves.
So as Batman and Bruce dig through the rubble, their hearts and spirits are crushed when a painfully ironically clear, and spotless golden R greets them first. As they progress, their spirits and hearts are flattened and bulldozed when they uncover the face of their son and Robin, for the domino has been raggedly torn in half.
As Batman stands and lifts Robin into his arms, Bruce stands and raises Jason into his embrace.
As Batman silently grieves his sidekick—his light—Bruce cries over his son.
A gloved—yet at the same time ungloved—hand checks for a pulse.
Nothing.
I was supposed to make it.
I should have gone faster, pushed harder, noticed sooner.
Bruce shouts into the air, letting the ash-colored sky hear his pain.
Batman shouts into the air, letting the ask-colored sky hear his grief.
Two personas in the same body let the world hear their anguish as they cradle the bruised, bloody, and broken body of their partner; their son; their world; their light…
The body of their life.
Robin—the second one—brought Batman's laughter to the streets.
The son—the first, legally—made Bruce's laughter ring pure.
Jason brought life wherever he went.
Life is about feeling—expressing—emotion. Life is sobs, anger, pain, hatred, anguish, relief, annoyance, amusement, happiness, joy, laughter, exasperation…
Jason brought life with him wherever he went.
Jason brought life.
Jason brought light.
Even in death, Jason brings life.
As the embers burn and fall to the ground, Batman sinks to his knees right with them and sobs into Robin's still chest.
As the embers burn and fall to the ground, Bruce sinks to his knees right with them and comes undone into Jason's still chest.
As the embers burn and fall to the ground.
