Chapter 1
Authors note: Thank you so much for your support without the reviews and follows I doubt I would have had the courage to continue this story so thanks. I would greatly appreciate any feedback in the form of reviews. Reviews will make me update faster and provide me with inspiration, also any ideas would be appreciated since this is my first fanfic I'm a bit unorganised, though I am sure that as I get into this story I will get better. Also if anyone would like to beta read my chapters before I post them that would be good.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, I wish I did but sadly DC own them.
Chapter 1
00000000-Dick-00000000
Dick was vaguek was ly aware that someone was shaking him, not that he cared; he just wanted to burrow himself away and cease to exist. He was shaken again, sharper this time, though not enough to hurt. He could hear someone speaking but no words were registering in his the dark abyss that was once his mind.
There were too many emotions; guilt, sorrow and anger they were overpowering him and he felt as if he was being drowned in a sea of his own making.
The voice trying to reach out to him was now forgotten as some as Damian's last words replayed themselves, despite Dick's discomfort, in his head.
000000000000-Flashback-000000000000
"So far I'd have to say you were my favourite partner; we were the best Richard, no matter what anyone says" The young boy said, his masked eyes meeting Dicks own. Dick truly felt honoured; it was very rare for Damian to say something as heart felt as that, it was just wasn't in his nature, that wasn't saying that he was a bad kid, he just wasn't one for an emotional conversation, he had constantly chided Dick for being too sentimental to the point of being embarrassing, that had always got a chuckle out of Dick and caused him to pull the boy into a hug, against Damian's protest, just to further the boys discomfort.
The Boy had come a long way though, Dick remembered the obnoxious little demon, who you could say definitely lived up to his Grandfathers name when he first arrived. Even if Damian refused to admit it, he had changed; he no longer killed and was generally more pleasant to be around. He had even, to Dicks astonishment stopped trying to murder Tim or at least get him kicked out of Wayne manner…well for the most part, besides nobody was perfect.
Dick quickly recollected himself; replacing his slightly dumbfounded expression with a cocky, lopsided grin before replying" Hey, we can't help being great"
It was true they were great together; they worked well as a team, even better than Damian and Bruce, who had, in all fairness been getting along much better. The two were too alike; you wouldn't be mistaken if you said Damian had certainly inherited his stubbornness from his father, not that either one of them would admit it.
Damian then did something that Dick had rarely seen him do in the past, he smiled; not his usual cocky-I'm better than you smile, but a genuine, content smile. At that point, Dick was happy, they both were; despite the current, frantic situation they were both relatively happy, though neither of them knew that the high spirits wouldn't last for long; that one of them wouldn't make it through the day.
Dick wished that he could just forget everything else and remain forever in his mind, surrounded by happy memories of his family, both old and new; block out all the undesirable, nightmarish thoughts and just be happy, not having to worry about anything.
That wasn't to be though.
Dick found himself slowly, returning, becoming more aware of his surroundings; he could hear Batman calling his name.
000000000-Bruce-0000000000
Bruce was getting worried, dick looked as if he was going into shock, not that he blamed him, if he was in Dicks position he would want to do the same, not that he could, he was the Batman, the protector of Gotham, he could not-would not let himself get unnerved. Dick shouldn't either; it was highly unprofessional, still… Dick's brother-Bruce's son was sprawled out beside him it was enough to make any sixteen year old, go into shock.
God…what have I done?…what am I doing?...I should have made him stay at home…I shouldn't have let him get involved in this…I shouldn't have let any of them…he was to young; they all were…he shouldn't have let any of them don the mantle of Robin, if he hadn't, maybe Damian would still be alive. No if Damian hadn't become Robin it was very likely that he would carry on killing, becoming Robin was great for him, he liked the feeling of preserving life rather than destroying it, if he could go back to the moment he had allowed Damian to be Robin, he would do it again. Damian had needed it just like all his predecessors had, not allowing anyone of them to become Robin was not an option, he stuck by that. He would have to, as much as one would like to wallow in the past, there is no point. The past could not be changed and Bruce knew that all too well, if it could be Bruce's parents would still be alive, but if that was the case then Damian would never have existed, there would be no Batman, the protector of Gotham, he didn't know what Gotham would have been like if he hadn't donned the cape and cowl; he didn't want to.
He was stopped in his thoughts when he heard movement. "Nightwing?" he questioned as he slowly spun around to see his sixteen year old ward and former partner yet there was something different about him. Even through the mask Bruce could see the pain and guilt in his son's eyes, that was only natural considering the conditions, that wasn't it though; the was something else, an almost sinister, sharpness to Dick's eyes, something Bruce had never seen in his son before. He looked dangerous and that worried him.
"You should go, I'll take care of the body" Bruce said, his tone as passive as ever. Dick stared at him in disbelief for a moment before his face became distorted with rage.
"You mean your son?" Dick asked in a cold and dark tone, unlike his usual happy go lucky self, it unnerved Bruce to see Dick like this; he was usually the coolheaded one of his boys, the one who, more often than not, was able to diffuse tense situations.
"Dick, I…" Bruce started quietly, but before he could continue he was interrupted by a very enraged Dick Grayson.
"No. Do we mean so little to you that when one of us dies we are just another body lost in your war; just collateral damage? You could at least pretend to be even just a little bit distressed that your son is dead. Are you really that heartless that you can't drop the façade of Batman for even a minute?"
Bruce looked at Dick, shock almost breaking through his defences.
How could Dick think that?
How long has he thought that?
Dick clearly wasn't thinking straight; he couldn't actually think that, it was just the grief talking-it had to be.
"Nightwing, go home, I'll take things from here. Besides, I think you need some time to cool off" Bruce said as emotionless as ever as he looked briefly at Dick and then down at Damian.
From the corner of his eye, Bruce saw Dick's masked eyes widen in incredulity; obviously not believing what he had heard, though he quickly regained his composure, his covered eyes narrowing- his expression hardening.
"Unbelievable. You really are cold-hearted, you know that? Ha…you say that killing makes you as bad as them, but let's face it…" Dick said quietly, his words were soft but there was no gentleness to them, only stone cold fury. Bruce wasn't sure where the boy was going with this-he wasn't sure if he even wanted to.
"…you're just like them" Dick finished, his tone dark. Bruce's eyes widened behind the mask at the boy's words. He surely didn't mean that-did he?
It was almost scary how intimidating Dick could be without even raising his voice. As batman, Bruce was practically the definition of intimidating, but Dick, there was an almost unnatural darkness to his tone, something Bruce had never noticed before.
Had it been there all along and he hadn't noticed? It couldn't have been- could it?
Bruce wasn't sure, maybe the boy needed rest he had had a long day and they were both, in their own way, grieving. That had to be it. It was the only plausible explanation. Still…
Bruce pushed any thought of doubt out of his mind and looked back up at the boy, who was still in the same rigid position, not having moved an inch.
"Go Home. Now "Bruce said, his voice commanding and clearly displaying authority. For a moment, Bruce thought Dick wasn't going to comply with his order. That was until he heard a laboured sigh. Dick stood even straighter than he previously was as he advanced towards Bruce, barging into him on his way. Bruce turned around to see Dick hop on his motorcycle.
"I'll see you back at the cave" Bruce said as he turned away from Dick and to the sight of his dead son.
"whatever…" Dick trailed of in an uncaring tone as he pulled his helmet on.
Bruce didn't turn back around as he heard the sound of a motorcycle start, nor when he heard it revving. He replayed his eldest son's words in his head as stared of into the distance and then down to his son.
Was Dick right?
00000-Dick-00000
Dick could not contain his anger at the moment; not even riding at top speed on his bike- which he was currently doing- could not quell his anger and calm him down.
Out of all conceited, callous, indifferent…
How could Bruce be so uncaring? His biological son was dead, yet he didn't seem to care, how could he be so cold and unconcerned?
Dick just couldn't understand-he didn't think he could ever be so heartless.
He was beyond aggravated, but what irked him most was not Bruce- although he was certainly a part of Dick's current problem- it was Talia. How could she let that thing, that monster… kill her son.
It wasn't fair that the heretic, that thing was alive when Damian wasn't. That thing wasn't even supposed to exist- it was just a clone. It wasn't right. For the third time in his life; the first after his parents deaths and the second after Jason's Death, he found himself doubting his beliefs.
Was Arkham really effective when its inmates could either break out or had the influence and money in the outside world that they were able to get out in no time?
If you killed a criminal, they couldn't come back and ruin more lives; they couldn't ever hurt anyone ever again. Far more innocent people would have been saved if Batman had killed the joker rather than imprison him in Arkham for him to break out again. Jason could have been saved. But no, the Joker was left alive to do whatever his sick and twisted mind pleased, that was until Batman would show up, beat him up and throw him in Arkham for him to break out again and the process would start again. It was like a game of cat and mouse that would only cease when either one of the two died.
Maybe life wasn't as black and white as he had thought. There seemed to be a grey middle path which Dick could feel himself begin to walk along.
As he pulled up at the entrance to the bat cave he knew two things; His way of thinking was changing and the Heretic would pay- he would make sure of that .
He would stay until the funeral, that is if Bruce cares enough to even organise one he thought bitterly, then he would forge a new path-one that he was not sure where it would lead him. By the time Dick had made his decision he had made his way up to his room. He walked in and closed the door. Tomorrow was another day.
Authors note: thanks for reading, if you liked it please review it will make me update faster and inspire me.
Next chapter should be Damian's funeral and Dick's departure. Until Next time.
Ventus 101
