Disclaimer- I do not own the New 52/ Batman

"Father, Alfreds out there! Please, let me go with you!" I stopped walking, and saw Damians reflection in the Batmobiles window. His eyebrows were slightly up. His jawline was hard. His pupils were dilated- a sign of deep thinking. Thinking about how he could persuade me. He was slightly shocked. He was determined to go.

Then I noticed his slightly round face. His shorter height. Goddammit- he's only 10. What the hell am doing? I intake a sharp breath of air and close my eyes. A hurricane of memories flood my head, threatening to drown me. The relentlessly whip my sensations- forcing reason to dissipate.

I'm thrown into a younger mind as alley walls start to appear. I see an opera house behind me. I know what's coming as I grasp soft hands, my mothers. I watch Joe Chill appear with a muted horror- I know what's happening. I've relived it hundreds of times. He steps into the streetlight, holding a gun in his shaky hands. I want to do jujitsu, aikido, or tae kwon do. Anything but stand here, which is all my frozen body is allowing me to do. He talks, easily recieving my dads wallet. He's just about to go- but Mothers pearls shine in the dark. His eyes are drawn to them, he can't resist. He pipes up, motioning towards Mom. Her necklace- I know he says. Mother slightly protests and he panics. He's not alone as I feel my brain spin into overdrive with emotions that I have shoved away. Fear. Pain. Protective. Surreal. His finger goes tight on the trigger, and in that moment I want nothing else more in the world then to just do something. The shot rings out in the night, followed quickly by a second. It's been the only sound I've heard. Mom's hand lifelessly slips from mine as she goes down. I mutely stand on the street as Joe stares at me, then runs. I crumple into warm blood. Fresh blood. I stare at my faces. Lifeless faces. I crawl over to Dad. Father! I shout. Father! I shake him, sobbing. Wake up! Mom... Mom needs you... I-I need you. I stare in unbelief at his face before scrambling off to Mom. Mother? I grab her hand. Come on! We... We need to go home! Alfreds waiting for us! And I bet he has cookies made! I hug her, sobbing into her chest. Stop It! I screech. It isn't funny. I look up to the sky. STOP IT! I'm in hysterics as I lie beside them, clutching onto their cold hands. This can't be real. This can't be. They just need to... go back home. Even as I think the words I know I'm lying to myself. But I still want them back- no- I NEED them back. I love them. They can't leave me. What had I done? They're never coming home. Mommies dead. Daddies dead. And as I layed there in the crimson blood I knew something. Bruce has also died. The world starts to fade out as I hear footsteps rounding the corner, police officers. They were too slow. To slow to help. Gotham needs something else- for Mom. For Dad.

I'm back staring at the Batmobile, but I don't forget. I'll never forget. I know what life I have chosen to take. It's a life of vengeance. It is a life of solitude. It is a life of madness. But sometimes, it's only madness that makes us what we are. Damian shouldn't have to inherit this life from me. And it's selfish, but I can't lose Damian, or anyone else. I once had a quote- "You can't fight fate, and you can't survive alone... I can't help but notice that almost seems the definition of who I am... A person trying to do both." But then Richard came along. And Jason, Cassidy, Tim, Stephanie, Barbra, and Damian. They save me from the path of self destruction I take. I won't let anybody take them away from me.

"No." I firmly respond. "It's the Joker. It's too dangerous."

"Father, you're not being fair! I'm a good fighter- the Joker doesn't stand a chance!" Damian vehemently protested.

But Jason and Barbra were too. Despite my training to be emotionless, a shiver runs through my body at the thought of them. Jason, crippled under the rubble of the destroyed building. I cried while holding his bloody body. Blood not only from the fatal explosion, but also from the ruthless beating Joker had brought upon him before. Barbra, whom he had shot through the back before violating her. Because of him she was in a wheelchair for a good portion of her life- she wasn't ever supposed to walk again. Her mind was also deeply traumatized.

"Life isn't ever going to be fair to you." I sadly respond.

"Please." He uttered. He had pushed his pride to the lowest it would get.

I recognise the look in his eyes, Hurt. Uncomprehending. A little betrayed by life. Kind of like the look Richard Greyson had after his parents died in front of him. I taught Dick the nocturnal lifestyle of justice. I could also drag Damian in. Wearing a mask, not to hide himself but to create himself. Banquishing grief. Because grief will forgive what cannot ever be forgiven. Filling the legacy, striking terror in hearts of the superstitious and cowardly hearts of the criminals.

Damian doesn't deserve this sad life. Maybe hes a bat, and its unavoidable; but i can try my best to give him a normal life.

"No."

Thanks for reading, and reviews are greatly appreciated :) DFTBA!

Navy