A/N: For the victims and their families in Brussels.
A Cowardly Act
By AJRedRobin
'COWARDS! . . . COWARDS!"
Bruce Wayne walked into the family chapel to see his son, Damian shouting as he lit several candles. He was confused why his son would be shouting out words when usually lighting candles was a silent and solemn act. It was hard to recall that he had a son, let alone that son was also Robin, but Alfred had assured him that Damian not only was his son, but he had three others as well, all fighting for his cause, to see that Gotham was safe and free from crime. He had just taken up the mantle as Batman from Jim Gordon, and this time, he was going to do it right. The childhood trauma that had caused him to take up the mantle before was gone, due to the Lazarus Pit, but so were his memories for a time, until a young man helped him to remember who he had been and why. Bruce stood in the shadows watching his youngest light another candle then once again made his declaration.
"COWARDS!"
"I don't understand," Bruce stated, seeing his son stiffen when Damian heard him speak. "Are you lighting the candles because whoever you are lighting them for were cowards? Or are you calling the candles cowards?"
"I am lighting the candles for the victims in Brussels," Damian answered. "I am calling those who caused it cowards."
"Oh, who caused what then?"
"Have you not seen the news?"
"I don't watch much news reports, other than the ones for Gotham," Bruce answered.
"You used to watch all news," Damian stated. "And you used to go where you were needed the most. You did not stand for such cowardice."
"You apparently know me more than I know myself," Bruce commented. "So, who was responsible?"
"A terrorist group who calls themselves ISIS," Damian stated. "They were the ones that claimed responsibility for the bombings. They are cowards, cowards to use people in the way that they do."
"But shouting at candles will not change what has happened," Bruce pointed out.
"Maybe not, but after this, I plan on hunting them down and make them pay for their cowardly acts," Damian answered with a conviction that boarded on pure hatred.
"That will not resolve the issue."
"You used to go out and fight such acts, Father."
"Did I?" Bruce questioned. "I don't remember."
"You do not believe me?" Damian questioned.
"It's not that. I really do not remember. I remember that I am Batman, but I do not remember that I did all those things."
"Read your logs," Damian stated. "You kept them in a special file."
"I will do that. In the mean time, can I assist in lighting candles?"
"Please, Father."
Bruce grabbed a box of matches and began lighting candles with his son, this time in silence. After lighting a few Bruce hesitated. In his mind a flash of a memory came to him of when he had lit candles before, but the boy who stood next to him was older and it wasn't in the chapel. It was in a living area with large French doors that no longer existed. He wondered who the boy was and why they were lighting candles together. He turned to see Damian staring at him.
"Are you all right, Father?"
"I'm not sure. I got this image, but I don't know if it was for real."
"Tell me."
"I saw my hand, just like this lighting a candle and I turned to see a boy about 15 or 16," Bruce explained. "We were lighting candles together."
"That must be Grayson," Damian answered. "You and Grayson started the tradition years ago, before he grew up. He told me about it."
"Grayson?"
"Richard Grayson, your . . . My oldest brother."
"Oh," Bruce stated. "What happened to him?"
"He's right here," Dick said.
Bruce turned toward the new voice. He had seen the young man before. He had come to the house to talk to him. He was Richard Grayson, Damian's brother? If Damian said that Richard was his brother, then that meant the young man was his son as well.
"Can I join you?" Dick asked.
"Please," Bruce waved him in.
"Don't forget me," Tim said as he followed behind Dick.
Bruce's eyes narrowed at first when another young man came into the room.
"As if we could ever forget you, Drake," Damian stated.
"Hey, Dick and I were the ones that continued the tradition. Nice to know you're keeping it up as well."
"And it's come full circle," Dick said,
"Not quite," Another voice entered.
"Todd? What are you doing here?"
"Paying my respects," Jason answered.
"Did you and Bruce used to do this, too?" Dick questioned.
"Once," Jason stated. "I didn't understand why he was lighting candles at first. Then he said so he would never forget."
"Forget? Forget what?" Tim asked.
"The victims," Jason answered.
Bruce nodded at Jason's statement. "Well then, if that's what I said, then that's what this is for."
"A few may have committed a cowardly act, but the victims didn't deserve it," Dick said. "Let's not bring any more hatred into this place. Let's just light these candles in memory for those who were lost or broken from this tragedy."
"I agree," Tim added.
Damian sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, hanging his head.
"It's all right, my son," Bruce stated as he placed his hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I can either hate the people who have done this, or I can feel for the victims. Whatever I was before, I don't want to be that person any more. I want to be better. Batman needs to rise above the hate. And so must we all."
"Yes, Father."
Bruce turned back to the candles and once again started to light each of the candles that remained unlit. The glow from the candles casted five darkened shadows behind them; shadows that were expectant and waiting. Those shadows, however, didn't give off an air of terror, but an air of hope, hope for a brighter future of safety and security. The hope that only a family of crime fighters could bring to a troubled world.
End
A/N: . . . If you want to light a virtual candle, go to this website. the center for healing arts dot com/light-a-candle/
The Center for Healing Arts should be all one word and replace the word dot with a period.