Lance was flying Slade's private plane. Well, the plane was on auto pilot flying itself. He wasn't... Wasn't in the best shape. Lance was taking steadying breaths as he forced his mind to calm down from the rage. He was beyond pissed at this point. Apparently, from what the article said, the Joker barged into Barbara's place, and shot and killed both her and Dick.

Why Dick was there, Lance didn't know... He might never know. All that was left of the family was him, Bruce and Alfred.

Family... Pfft.

Whatever. Lance was going to land in Gotham in a few hours, he was going to kill the Joker in very, very violent manner, and probably beat the ever loving shit out of the man who gave him the best years of his life.

Lance was good at introspection. He learned a long time ago that the little over three years he spent at the Manor, as Robin... It really was the best years he'd ever had. Probably ever would have. The sleepovers with the Wilson kids didn't - couldn't - match up to the times he had in the Manor. Even though he considers the Wilsons family, he just... It wasn't the same. It never could be.

And now, he'll never have his old family back. The best he can do is kill the Joker, say goodbye to Alfred and tell Bruce everything that man has ever done wrong. It's irony, really. The only family Bruce has left is someone he doesn't want. Ah well. Doesn't matter. Not anymore.

Lance Bruner was dead anyway. All that's left is remnants. Ashes. And those tiny pieces formed together, orginally broken, but now? Now it was whole. Now he was back. Not as Robin. No, Robin would never fly again.

He was back as something different. Something that both Bruce and Gotham would learn to fear. A part of Lance has never left Arkham. And now, he was bringing it out. Now, everything, EVERYTHING would run, and cower in fear...

Of the Arkham Knight.

(...)

Lance thought he'd feel something as his feet touched Gotham. Thought maybe he'd feel sad, or happy. Maybe nostalgic, or something at least. But no. Looking out at the city he grew up in, as the sun sets in the horizon... Lance feels numb. Maybe he's trying to still process the fact that everyone but Bruce was dead. Well, and Alfred. But... Lance shakes his head, the movement surprisingly easy inside the Arkham Knight suit. Lance cracked his neck, and his fingers. It was showtime.

After checking all of his current supplies (which was around a hundred handgun bullets, a modified version of the very first gun he used, his Promethium sword, ten smoke pellets, seven near microscopic trackers, two dozen shurikens and a grapple gun) he was ready to rip this city apart.

First things first, find the fucking clown.

Which was a much harder task than Lance thought it'd be. He was trying to play it quiet, but no amount of reconnaissance or stealth was getting him anywhere. After nearly two hours of dodging cameras, checking hiding spots and listening in to conversations that were none of his business, he only knew two things. The Joker was hiding, and Batman was on a fucking warpath, dozens upon dozens of Joker's henchmen beaten within an inch of their lives as he too searched for the clown.

Why did he not do this for Lance? Did he really not even care?

Lance grit his teeth. Fine. If the clown wants to play hide and seek, Lance will oblige. It is the man's last night on earth after all.

(...)

It was just a few hours later when Lance had finally tracked down the clown. He was hiding inside an old, rundown building in Crime Alley. Lance recognized this place. It was Jason's old home with his mother. Lance clenched his fist at the thought of Jason dying. This damn monster was going to die. Painfully.

Lance wasn't sure at first about murdering someone. But he knew that if anyone deserved to die, it'd be the Joker. He's tired of the damage this clown has caused, both to Gotham and to the Bats. Lance had switched his vison from normal to thermal now, and he was getting a few heat signatures. The Joker was around the middle of the building, with other people pacing near the top and bottom.

Huh, he still has guards. He'd assumed Bruce had already beaten them all down into comas. And speaking of Bruce... Lance saw a shadow flutter a few rooftops away. Lance quickly ducks, and it takes far to long before he peeks his head up.

Batman is now in the building, beating down the Joker's goons. If the Bat gets to Joker first, the clown will just live again to finish the rest of the family and Gotham off. Lance can't let that happen. He won't.

Yet he doesn't seem to have much of a choice. Of any choice, because finally, Bruce and the Joker were in the same room. Lance watched through the thermal as Bruce rushed the man with speed he didn't think Bruce had, and watched as an absolutely brutal beat down occurred. A leg snapped. And then the Joker's left arm bent the other way.

Bruce was giving the clown everything he deserved... Would... Would he kill the Joker? Lance stood still, watching the carnage and the chaos unfold. After what seemed like hours, Bruce towered over the Joker, something was in Bruce's hand, a Batarang or a knife. Lance couldn't tell from here. Bruce's hand was raised, poised to strike. But Bruce just stayed there. Lance waited, hoping beyond hope his father Bruce would do it. He'd go easy on the man (a little anyway) if he managed to put the clown down.

But, like always, Bruce half-asses everything. His arm goes down. At that moment, Lance notices the Joker rolling his head around in what he has to assume is laughter. And then, the Joker, using his broken hand reaches into his pocket. Bruce either doesn't care or doesn't see it.

And then the entire building explodes in a cacophony of sound and heat.

A blinding white light overtakes the thermal, and Lance curses as he switches back to a normal view. Lance's vision returns shortly afterwards, but...

Now he's standing there, watching as the house is ablaze. Every single window has fire roaring out of it. There's no way to get in there. After another minute, the bundling itself starts to collapse.

Lance can't breath. Bruce is... Is...

He falls to his knees. Why couldn't he just... Why couldn't he kill that fucking clown!? Lance starts to taste something salty.

Oh, he's crying. Huh.

(...)

It's not until a half hour later that firefighters arrive. By then, both the flames and Lance have gone. Lance is... Unsure really. He doubts there's anything else left in this damn city for him to do. At least until he thinks about Alfred. There's no way he's leaving Alfred here alone.

He's going to go to the Manor, get Alfred and go back to the Wilsons. This city can all burn down. It's not worth saving. It's never been worth saving. Years, nearly fifteen years Bruce has fought against the corruption. And then Dick and Barbara and Lance and Jason all got caught in the crossfire.

It's a fitting end for all of them, he supposed. To die by someone who shouldn't have been allowed to live. To die for a city that doesn't care. No more. Lance is done. And he can at least see someone he's missed for a long time now.

He's going to see his grandfather.

(...)

It's not twenty minutes later that Lance arrives at Wayne Manor. At first, he thought about using the intercom, but decides against it. There's no way Alfred doesn't know about Bruce. There's no way Alfred is handling this well. He's probably couped up in his room, crying, devastated by the losses the family has suffered. Lance knows it's gonna take some convincing that he's who he says he is, but if he can convince the man to let him cook something or make some tea, Alfred will know it's him.

So Lance hops the gate and rushes to the door. He gets to the entrance in just a few minutes, and then he sighs. He'll have to at least ring the doorbell. If he breaks in, it'll be harder for Alfred to believe him. So, he pushes the button. And he waits.

And he waits.

...

He pushes the button again, and waits only a few minutes before he kicks the door down. Lance first rushes to the older man's bedroom. He opens the door and there's nothing.

"Alfred!" He yells, hoping the modifications to his voice don't sound like he has ill intent.

He rushes to the kitchen. Nothing.

The ball room. Nothing.

The library. Nothing.

Jason's library. Nothing.

Bruce's room. Nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Lance finally rushes to the grandfather clock, and uses the secret passage to enter the Batcave. He takes the steps three at a time until he stops dead in his tracks. Near the Batcomputer, on the ground, motionless... Is Alfred. Lance rushes to his side, and immediately checks his pulse.

Nothing.

"No. No no no!" He yells, and starts to do CPR. He tries to hold his strength back, but after a few moments, realizes it's pointless. Hopeless.

The older man was gone.

Lance couldn't take it. He just... Broke down. His laid his head down on his grandfather and cried.

(...)

Sometime later, Lance couldn't say when, he finally managed to stand. He then immediately pulled the chair from the Batcomputer out far enough to sit in. It was laughably easy to get into the systems. The first thing he did was pull up the Cave's security cameras. He checked back to around the time when Joker blew himself and... Blew himself up.

Alfred was standing near the computer, his motions getting increasingly more and more erratic. He was already upset about losing everyone else it seemed. At a certain point, Alfred takes the comm in his ear out and throws it angrily. And just a few seconds later... He starts to clutch at his heart. He falls down shortly after that, convulsing on the floor for a short time until... Until...

Lance exits the video feed. He puts his head in his hands. Everyone was... Gone. He grit his teeth, and slammed his hand down hard. The computer was surprisingly able to take it. Lance stands up quickly, knocking the chair over in the process. He whips around to go back upstairs, when something catches his eye.

It was his old Robin suit. His very first one. An older version of Dick's Robin suit. It was in a glass case. Lance... Didn't think that it was fixed. He walks over to it slowly. He touches the glass softly. Lance can't believe it's still here. At the very bottom, is a plaque.

Lance Bruner: A hero until the very end.

Lance wants to cry again. He won't, but... He was no hero. He was weak. Easily broken by the Joker. Bruce or Dick wouldn't have broken. Joker would have had to kill them. Barbara and Jason? He's fairly certain that they'd last longer than he did.

Speaking of Jason... Nearby, there's another glass case. A newer Robin uniform sits inside it. There's a plaque there too.

Jason Todd: Beloved Son, Trusted Partner

Now there was something Jason was worthy of being. Lance smiled sadly at the display. He walked over to it, and rested his head on the case.

"I'm sorry Little Wing... I should have been here." He says quietly to the suit. Because yeah, if he was here, if he had just gotten over himself... If he had bothered to check ONCE in three years...

For all he knows, that case was fixed a week after Barbara broke it. Did she forgive him? He shook his head. It didn't matter now. Puppy love or not, he fucked up by telling about her. Was that why the Joker targeted her? Is that why she and Dick are dead?

That'd mean he's also responsible for Bruce and Alfred.

Lance slowly falls to the floor, as he takes his helmet off. Tears threatened to fall. For a few moments, he just leans against the glass case. Rests next to the last memory of his little brother. Lance doesn't even notice he's holding his gun until it's pressed into his temple. He chuckles softly.

"Maybe I should... I could get the last kill on the Bats." He says bitterly. However, before he can consider pulling the trigger, the comm in his helmet goes off.

He can hear Joey muffled on the other end. Lance lets the gun drop and he slips the helmet back on.

"This is Knight. Respond Revenger." He says in a gruff voice that reminds him to much of Bruce.

"Shit no need for code names man... We saw the news... Is Bruce really..." Joey trails off. Lance laughs mirthlessly.

"Yeah he is. Alfred too. Had a heart attack." Joey makes a wounded noise and Lance can't blame him. There's some rustling over the line.

"Kid, you holding up?" Slade asks in a voice far kinder than Lance has ever heard. He snorts.

"Not one fucking bit Slade." He says, and Slade stays silent for a moment.

"What do you want to do kid?" And there's a train of thought. Everyone assumed he was dead. He can't just go to the funeral. Hell no one even knows Bruce is - was - Batman. People might suspect once Bruce hasn't made any appearances, but unless they are able to test ashes... Lance sighs.

"I don't know Slade. I don't..." There's some more rustling over the line.

"Asshole." Rose sounds serious. He inadvertently sits up a little straighter.

"Ravager." He says back, equally as serious.

"Gotham is gonna get fucked up over this. There's no one left. Do you want the city your father fought for to fall apart?" Lance nearly growls.

"What the fuck Rose? Are you trying to piss me off? Because it's working." Lance warns. She merely scoffs.

"What I am saying, is that you can either come back here and we can have sleep overs until we're all old and decaying, or you can stop being a coward, stop being a baby, and keep your city safe." Lance nearly is taken over by rage. Almost.

But she's right... Gotham is going to implode soon. Without Jim, the police have probably been getting worse. Without Bruce Wayne's money... Well he has to imagine Lucius is going to inherent the money. Maybe he can do some good... But without Batman?

The city is done for.

And Bruce's one mission, the one thing he's fought for, the one thing he's ever wanted since he was an orphan, crying in an alley... It'll be for nothing. Lance can't believe he was just willing to leave.

Lance can't leave. He can't. He chuckles softly to himself, though Rose hears it.

"So Asshole? What's it gonna be?" Lance stands up.

"Guess you guys have one less mouth to feed." He says, a part of him going back and remembering the last few years. It was nice, but he can't just sit back and relax anymore. He has work to do. He swear he can feel Rose grinning right now.

"Well good to see you've got some sense in that head of yours." Lance laughs as he walks over to Alfred, picking the older man up.

"I'll be taking on the crime in this city alone, what fucking sense?" Rose and him both laugh, before another voice joins the call.

"Kid, you need anything, you let me know alright?" Slade means it too. Slade will get him whatever he wants, be it tech, information or even a body.

Why didn't he ask Slade to kill the Joker?

Lance takes a gulp of air as he walks up the stairs into the Manor proper.

"Yeah Slade. Will do. Knight out." He says, shutting his comm off. Lance makes his way to Alfred's room, pulling the covers back and laying him down on the bed. He looks down at his grandfather and smiles.

"Tell everyone I love them. And that I'm going to keep Gotham safe." He says to the older man. As Lance starts to walk out of the room, he swears he can hear Bruce's voice in his head.

We do not kill.

Oh yeah, that. He was going to murder the Joker... Well... The clown is gone. And it's not like any other criminal absolutely needs to be put down. He can fight non lethally.

But if the weird part of his brain that sounds like Bruce doesn't want him to use a sword or a gun, he can shove it. That's Lance's style now. Thankfully, his brain is silent.

Good.

(...)

It's a few weeks later, and Jack Bracket has purchased an abandoned building somewhere in Crime Alley. Most people don't care, and no one even knows the abandoned building has been bought. Most people also never noticed the work going on underneath the building either. How a new vigilante was building his own base, with supplies from the Batcave that he managed to salvage. The Batmobile is even down here, singed as it is from the heat from the explosion.

It's going well. It's all going nicely.

(...)

Lance grabs the last of the supplies from the Batcave. Nothing is left besides the computer, even the suits and the memorials have been moved to the Asylum. (Yes Slade, the Arkham Knight's new HQ is the Asylum. Please stop laughing.)

"Jack" takes one last look at the place. Memories of time long since passed go through his mind. He takes a deep breath, before activating Knightfall. A code Bruce hoped would never be used.

Twenty minutes later, Wayne Manor and the Cave below it burst into flames. And Bruce Wayne and Alfred Penneyworth are both declared dead.

No one knows Alfred is already buried in an unmarked location. Lance wouldn't let the old man's body suffer the same fate as Bruce.

(...)

Three weeks after Batman died, a week after Bruce Wayne is declared dead. The Arkham Knight is first sighted.

A mugger tries his luck in The Narrows against a couple. They have a child. It seems like the mugger is going to lose his patience. It seems like a child is going to be orphaned. Or even worse.

But no. Never again.

A mechanized Batman saves the couple, makes a joke, and grapples away.

And this happens again. And again.

Eventually, the mysterious vigilante takes down a drug ring. Police arrive to the scene (good ones, actually, it's quite a surprise) and they ask the vigilante a few quick questions. As he makes a quip and raises his grapple, one of the police raise their hand.

"One last thing... Who are you?" He asks. The vigilante turns around, and the cop is face to face with the terrifying man. A suit completely made out of some sort of metal. The mystery man laughs softly.

"Me? I'm the vengeance that sweeps through the night. I'm the terror of evil that sleeps in the light. I'm the motherfucking Arkham Knight."

The cops stare incredulously at the man, before he throws his head back laughing.

"Ok yeah that was overly dramatic. I need something less '2edgy4me'." He says, and then salutes the cops.

"See more of Gotham's Finest later!" He yells, as he grapples away.

As the cops stand there speechless, one of them finally breaks the profound silence.

"What the fuck did we just see?"

(A/N I know that the end was pretty... Crap. I'm sorry! I had rushed this last part out and I don't have any excuses. Sorry again!)