AN: Hi guys! Sorry for the late update. This was like 3 ideas that pestered me mashed together, so please enjoy!

Warning: Suicidal thoughts

It was past midnight when the door creaked open in Bruce Wayne's room. The billionaire was on break from patrol and was sleeping in bed, vulnerable. A small figure appeared at the doorway, casting a long shadow into the room. For a child specially trained in stealth, he was being quite noticeable. More so considering what his mission was. Then again, maybe that was exactly what the boy had in mind as he approached the sleeping figure. To be noticed, so that he wouldn't have to commit such a heinous crime.

Damian Wayne stood next to the bed, his katana trembling in his clenched hands.

He was here to complete his mission: to kill Batman.

To kill Bruce Wayne.

His own father.

It was meant to be simple. Befriend his father, the butler and his wards, and eliminate the Batman. All it took was a simple slash across the throat or a stab through the heart. After all, that was what he was trained for his entire life: to kill.

What the al Ghul's didn't realise was that Damian was still a child. And children tend to bond and form an emotional attachment to those around them.

So having to kill someone when they were so close to you… your own f**king blood father…

Damian fell to his knees, his katana still trembling in his hands. It was easier to kill when you didn't know who they were. You didn't know if they had a family, if they had been guilty or innocent throughout their lives…

It also didn't seem right, considering that Drake still blamed him for Grayson's death. Another reason why he couldn't kill his father. It didn't seem fair to take their father away when he just took away their brother.

Damian was still on his knees his body wracking with silent sobs. He had no tears left to cry- lost them all during assassin training. He was so conflicted, so confused so-

Then a thought struck Damian.

A mission could only be carried out by someone competent. After all, their target was THE Batman.
And Damian was the only one competent to eliminate his father.

So if the only one competent was terminated...

Damian was familiar with the Japanese concept of Seppuku, a ritual suicide that the Samurais practised. It was mostly carried out as an act of honour, dying voluntarily by your own hands. However, it was also a capital punishment reserved for samurai who had brought shame onto themselves.

Damian had failed not only himself but his family. He was weak - so, so weak - he couldn't even carry out a simple task. He was a failure.

Damian stared at his own katana and studied his blade. It had been a great servant throughout his life. Now he had one last job for it.

His eyes blank, he turned the blade around and held it out in front of him, the blade pointing at his stomach. He felt a tear prick his eye, which was impossible.

Demons didn't cry.

Damian finally decided to return to where he belonged.

Destination: Hell.

'I… apologise for ruining your lives. I am sorry, Drake. I am sorry Pennyworth. Sorry, Grayson. I'm sorry father.'

With that, he thrust his sword towards his stomach.

A pair of warm callous hands stopped him. Damian looked up and found himself focusing into his father's concerned but unwavering eyes. Sitting on the side of his bed, Bruce gently removed the katana from his son's clenched fists and placed it on his bed. He got down to his knees, his hands now on Damian's shoulders. Damian looked at his father, his vision clouded by his tears. He was so confused, so conflicted, so anxious…

A sob escaped from his lips. Then another. Before he knew it, he was sobbing, tears escaping his eyes. Damian thought he had lost all of them during training.

Bruce brought Damian into his arm for an embrace. Damian knew it was stupid but he felt so safe in his strong arms.

'I- I understand Damian.' Bruce whispered.

Damian buried his face into his father's shoulder.

'No. No, he doesn't.'

'Nobody does.'