Author's note: I wanted to write an angst/family/tragedy story to experiment my writing skills. And because in these days the Batworld is the center of my inner focus, and because in my opinion in the Batworld the most angst/familiy/tragic combination is Bruce/Jason, here's the result. And this is the work of the talented Deviantart artist Kitten-chan which gave me the inspiration for this oneshot: http/www. kaciart. tumblr. com/post/7745732199.

Warning: CHARACTER DEATH AND RELIGIOUS SUGGESTIONS. I HOPE TO NOT OFFEND ANYONE.

Disclaimer: Both the characters are of DC. I don't own nothing.

No hope at all

He finally did it.

Where all the human and meta villains inside and outside Gotham always failed, he managed to achieve his objective. The Batman was lying on his feet, with a river of blood flowing on his chest.

Perforation of the Aorta and internal hemorrhage, thanks to a simple, stray bullet. There wasn't no way to save him that time. No way to another resurrection. His wards will be never arrived in time to give him help, as they patrolled in other areas of Gotham while he was alone for his own decision.

The Red Hood started to remove his helmet; he felt a growing sensation of heat in his face. However, he thought he never needed anymore to wear it. He finally demonstrated to be superior to Batman by defeating him, and so he could finally claim the cowl for himself. Despite the other Robins could say over the matter, he gained that right.

He demonstrated the validity of his theories, he demonstrated that the student finally surpassed his master, he demonstrated that he could be the new Dark Knight of Gotham.

The Red Hood should be feeling an inner sensation of triumph, pride, satisfaction… He should made a liberation laugh in front of his enemy as his personal sigil…

… So why instead from his red mask were coming out tears which wetted his cheeks?

Jason knelt in front of Batman, who was breathing slowly, with reasonable difficulty; a small amount of blood came out from his mouth. He winced looking at him after removing his cowl: despite all, Bruce's expression was serene, almost peaceful, not anger but sad. His blue eyes were calm, and this hurt him more than a Bat glare.

Jason come more near to him, noticing he had something to say: Bruce's voice was low, but still strong:

"… Do you feel better now?"

"No."

Jason's answer was immediate and sincere, as the tears continued to come from his eyes. He quickly removed his red mask, not feeling the pain coming from his glued skin, only thinking Batman deserved to see his murderer in the eyes, while as a sort of mechanical instinct he took his hand.

He wanted to say I'm sorry, but his voice was like frozen; So, it was Bruce to talk again:

"…I'm… I'm sorry."

And at that point Jason really understood what he did and where his own crusade leaded him.

He betrayed him. He was another Judas who brought his Christ to the cross.

He shot the most important person in his life, the only who really and always cared for him, he shot his father.

In a state of internal turmoil, still crying, in a last attempt to avoid the inevitable Jason put the other hand on the wound, trying to stop the blood, while between his sobbing he trying to say something "…Shh…shh… Don't talk anymore, Bruce… Soon Dickie-bird and the others will arrive to help you…"

" You know well…this time I don't… have chances… But before it's too late… I must tell you…"

Janon interrupted him: " Yes! I knew! I always knew!" That you always loved me, dad. "…I'm sorry… I was a dork… I'm really sorry. I failed you... Always…"

With his last strengths, Bruce slight nodded his head. "No…It's not true… I only wanted…from you... since the night I found you in Crime Alley … that you…"

That you lived, son.

And then his breath ceased. All of Jason's body trembled.

" Bruce?...Dad? DAD?"

…

After a while, Jason noticed his brothers were near to them. But they will not arrive in time. He already took his decision, knowing that he will disappointing his father for another time; but despite all, he was still the disobedient one in his family.

Without Bruce, there was no hope at all for him anymore. Just like Judas, who refused the hope Jesus offered to him with his death.

He took his gun and he pointed it on his temple, still holding the hand of his dad. He shyly smiled, as Bruce right now.

When he pushed the trigger, he had however a last glimpse of hope.

Please… If it was possible… I wanted to fly again with him… even if only for a day.