It was as if a dark cloud had settled over the manor. Similar to one of those days where the sky is dark and cloudy and it seems like it will never be sunny again.

Stephanie accepted condolences from yet another faceless person and pasted a smile on her face. That seemed to satisfy whoever it was and the next person stepped up.

She wished everyone would leave her alone. She could feel her smile beginning to waver and knew that she wasn't far off from a meltdown. But she couldn't have one here. She was stronger than that.

Or so she hoped.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bruce graciously accepting everyone's condolences. As if their sympathy would bring him back. He was dead.

Stephanie chomped hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. Why him? Of everyone else in the world, why him? He was still so young, so innocent.

And look at Bruce over there. Smiling like he didn't have a care in the world. It didn't matter that she was doing the same. At least she knew that she actually had feelings.

Excusing herself politely, Stephanie backed away from all the crowds and ran into her room upstairs, shutting and locking the door behind her. It wasn't like her to run from things she couldn't handle, but the past few days she hadn't been herself.

Sounds of laughter from downstairs drifted into her room. Bruce's laughter.

She was going to be sick.

In the bathroom, she bent over the sink and tried to calm down. She tied up her long blonde hair out of the way and examined her red rimmed blue eyes. There was no way that she was going back downstairs anytime soon.

Someone knocked on the door. It was probably Dick. He was too compassionate for his own good sometimes.

"Go away." She called, irritated that her voice cracked. She couldn't fall apart. She was stronger than this.

The door creaked open and Dick walked in, looking even worse than she did. His usually bright blue eyes were dull and the lines under them testified to several sleepless nights.

Stephanie felt a pang of guilt. She should be comforting him too.

He tried to smile at her, his lips turning up just slightly at the ends.

She didn't meet his eyes as she walked over to her bed and collapsed. "How can he do that?" She hissed. "How can he just sit there and act like his son wasn't just killed last week? Doesn't he even care?"

Not really expecting an answer, she dropped her head in her hands and tried yet again to stifle her growing emotion.

"You know he cares." Dick whispered brokenly. The bed sagged a little as he climbed on next to her. "He just doesn't show it."

Stephanie couldn't stand it. "Damian's dead!" She screamed, leaping off of the bed. "He's dead and The Batman didn't do anything to stop it!" She hadn't done anything to stop it. "This is all Bruce's fault!" This was all her fault.

"Why…." Stephanie didn't finish her question. She couldn't. Suddenly, the image of Dick sitting on the bed blurred. Her knees buckled and she found herself on the ground.

Loud sobs wracked her body. She'd give anything for the little demon himself to show up in her doorway and yell at her or insult her. He could eat the last of her favorite snack all he wanted. He could hog the bathroom all day. He could even kick her in the face.

All he had to do was come back.

"He's gone…" Stephanie wrapped her arms around herself and sobbed harder.

"I know." Dick's arms were around her now. "I know."

She clung to him as if her life depended on it. Her sobbing ceased to slow whimpering.

"I told him I hated him once." She whispered. "I didn't mean it. I didn't."

Dick didn't say anything. She could feel his hot tears on her neck.

"I know." He said again. That's all he could say.

…

Bruce shook hand after hand and smiled his millionaire smile. The hours passed and still he stayed in the same pose. Shaking another hand, expressing his thanks, accepting their condolences. Then repeating the whole process.

Before long, the last person shook his hand and made their way out the front door. Alfred came out of the kitchen to clean up, shooting Bruce worried glances.

Bruce nodded at Alfred and went into his room. For a long time, he stood there, his back against the door. He supposed he would have to make a public speech about Damian's death. And the media would most likely want to interview him.

He would have to call the office and cancel his appointments. Mr. Fox would need to have the plans for that new Batmobile soon. And as for patrol…..

Bruce sank to the ground and buried his head in his hands. It didn't matter. Nothing did. Damian was dead.

Grief hovered just at the edge of his mind. Damian his son was gone.

Bruce closed his eyes and wept.

Part 2 will be uploaded in a few days. (probably within the next three) Sorry for the feels.

I know that Bruce had a private funeral for Damian, but I switched things up a bit.

I'm really angry that they killed Damian, but at least they brought him back. Not that any character really stays dead in the DC Universe anyway xD

Please review! Or don't. But the second one would kind of hurt my feelings. And then you wouldn't get any internet cookies. :D