Batman felt someone grabbing at his face. He felt a dull pain in his cheek. He felt it again. And again. He opened his eyes. Before him stood Jim Gordon. Batman's eyes went wide in confusion.

"Jim?" Batman backed up and struggled to his feet.

"I'm only dead because of you. You are worthless," spat Jim, "You couldn't even save me. I always helped you, the least you could have done, is return the favour," Jim was yelling now. His eyes went mad with anger and he launched himself at Batman. After some moments of grappling, Jim's hands closed around Batman's throat as he pleaded with Jim.

"What are you doing Jim, this isn't you, this is some-"

"Some what!?"

Batman dropped to his knees.

"Hey I'm talking to you!" a boot landed in the face of Bruce's father.

"Give me your nice lady's pearls and whatever other cash you got, or I waste her, and your little son here. Do you want their blood on your hands?"

"Leave my son out of this," Thomas pleaded.

"Wrong answer."

Time slowed down as the revolver went off. Slowly the bullet edged closer and closer to Martha's bewildered face. Her lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

"NOOOOOO!"

Another bang came from the revolver as Thomas fell limp at the feet of his murderer. Joe Chill looked at Bruce with pity.

"Some day you'll understand this screwed up hellhole." Joe shuffled his feet.

The words, "I'm sorry" left his mouth as he sprinted off in the other direction. The revolver dropped to the ground. The silence that had enveloped Bruce dissipated. He could hear police sirens, ambulances. He could hear the murmur of a worried crowd. The tears ran down his face endlessly in an unstoppable torrent. Bruce looked down at his hands.

They were covered in blood.

Whose blood was it?

Suddenly he came spluttering back to life. Water rushed out of his mouth mixed with vomit in a torrent, going everywhere. A colourful mess was left on the footpath. He opened an eye slightly. Painfully he focused on the person standing over him. No, there were two. One was Nightwing. The other, Daredevil, was dressed in red. A crimson suit of blood. How fitting, Batman thought.

"Batman? Can you hear me? Goddamn it, don't you die on me," Nightwing yelled at Batman. He pulled his arm back and slapped Batman. He slapped him again. Soon he was in a fury of wild movements, lashing out both arms at Batman's seemingly motionless body. Nightwing's vision was blinded by the unstoppable tears of his grief.

Something stopped his arm.

A hand.

A hand covered in blood.

Blood smudged in the shape of a Bat.