This is possibly the saddest thing I've ever written. Like, seriously, I choked up a few times. Just in case you were wondering, yes, it's based off the Stay Alive reprise from the musical Hamilton. I hope you enjoy this.

OoOoOo

Stay alive...
Stay alive...

"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?"

Everyone near the entrance of the hospital flinched as Bruce Wayne burst in, his eyes wide with panic and fear. No one had ever seen the playboy so distressed before and it was nerve-wracking to say the least. Thankfully, Dr. Leslie Thompkins approached him, her demeanor solemn. "Bruce, follow me," she urged as the two began to make their way to the hospital room where the young girl was being treated. "They brought her in a half an hour ago, she's lost a lot of blood on the way over..."

Bruce gripped the doctor's shoulders frantically. "Is she alive?" he demanded. He hadn't felt terror like this eat away at him since that night in the alley all those years ago. He'd lost his parents, he didn't think he'd be able to go on if he lost his daughter too.

Leslie slowly nodded. "Yes," she answered. "but you have to understand, the bullet entered just above her hip and lodged in her right arm-"

"Can I see her?" Bruce cut her off before adding desperately, "Please."

Leslie sighed. "I'm doing everything I can," she tried to assure him. Still, she opened the door for the father. "but the wound was already infected when she arrived."

Bruce entered the hospital room and felt his heart clench at the sight of his little girl. She had various IVs in her body and he skin was a sickly pale color compared to her usual healthy glow. "Celeste..." he managed to utter.

Despite her condition and the blood dripping from her mouth, Celeste managed to beam at him. "Daddy," she greeted in relief, as if having him there would magically make everything better. She must have known that it wouldn't, but it didn't stop her from looking at him like it would. "I did what you told me to do, Dad. I help my head up high and I stood my ground..."

Bruce took her small hand in his and pressed it to his mouth, kissing it lightly. "Shh, I know," he cooed gently. "I know." He managed to give her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "You did everything just right."

The nineteen year old seemed to be in a daze as she stared up at the ceiling. "I didn't show an ounce of fear," she promised him. "I stood my ground, I-I..." It looked like she was in pain just talking.

"I know, I know," muttered Bruce over and over again, trying to assure himself that she would be alright, that she would get through this. "Save your strength, baby girl, and stay alive."

"NO!" sounded a voice in horror from the doorway.

Bruce turned to see his wife standing there, pure terror on her face. "Diana..."

Diana Prince-Wayne barely paid him any mind as she nudged him out of the way. "Is she breathing, is she going to survive this?" she demanded before turning to her husband. "Who did this, Bruce, did you know?" Tears freely rolled down her face. She suddenly froze when there was a tug at her shirt.

"Mommy," whimpered Celeste. "I'm sorry for forgetting what you taught me."

Diana's face softened as she kneeled down, taking her daughter's face in her hands. "My girl-"

Celeste grinned. "We played piano," she recalled randomly, a far off look in her eyes. Or maybe it wasn't so random.

Diana nodded. "I taught you piano," she confirmed.

Their poor baby held up the hand that wasn't being held by her father. "You would put your hand on mine."

Diana smiled fondly at the memory. "You changed the melody every time."

Celeste's eyes widened before they drooped slightly. "I would always change the line." Tears began rolling down her own cheeks as she choked on a sob. She knew she was dying and even she had to admit that was scary, but she was much more concerned about her parents. Her father would be guilt-ridden for the rest of his life and her mother would never recover.

Her mother pressed a kissed to the top of her head. "Shh, I know, I know," she muttered into her hair.

"I-I would always change the line..."

"I know, I know." Diana swallowed the lump in her throat and began to murmur softly, "Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf..." Her daughter had been fluent in many languages, but French had always been her favorite. She had to stay strong, if not for Celeste's sake, then for her own.

"Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huirt neuf..." repeated Celeste weakly. Bruce watched the two, frozen in his spot. He was beginning to remember the music from the piano filling the manor as his wife taught their daughter how to play it along with how to speak various other languages all those years ago. She'd been fluent in nearly all of them around the world. She'd had her whole life ahead of her...

"Good," praised Diana gently. "Un deux trois quatre cinq six..."

"Un deux trois..." Celeste eyes closed completely as she breathed her last breath.

"...sept huit neuf," finished Diana, but soon realized that her daughter wouldn't be finishing it with her. "Sept huit neuf," she repeated, as if it would bring her daughter back. "S-Sept huit..." After a few silent, terrifying seconds, Diana let out an agonizing, wounded shriek at the loss of her only child. She then collapsed on top of the nineteen year old's body and sobbed violently, pleading for her baby to come back to her. Promising that she would do anything to have her alive and in her arms again.

And Bruce? He watched the tragic scene with a blank expression on his face, not believing that his little girl was gone. When it finally kicked in, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides and a lone tear slid down his face.

OoOoOo

So... yeah. I'm sad now. In case anyone was wondering how Celeste died, I don't completely know myself. Hell, I don't even know if this is a No Powers AU or not. Just use your imaginations, I guess. Well, anyway, please review.