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Bruce didn't want to go into the building. He knew what would be waiting inside. There was only one thing that Jim Gordon could possibly want Bruce's help with. Not Batman's.
Bruce's.
There was only one thing could possibly be waiting for them inside.
And Bruce knew who it would be. There was only one person it could be.
"I'm sorry I have to ask this of you," Jim said. "I made sure that we're the only people going to be inside. Only a couple others have seen. No press."
He took a deep breath.
"Know I'm here for whatever you need."
Bruce took a deep breath and braced himself.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Let's just get this going."
Jim led the way in. It was another of the seemingly endless empty and abandoned warehouses in Gotham. This one was falling into disrepair and there was sunlight streaming in through the broken skylights.
Leave it to Gotham to give him sun on one of the worst days of his life.
He was led through the stacks of abandoned boxes. It was almost as if there was nothing wrong. That maybe this was all about a break in. Nothing more. Even though with what was happening around the city it couldn't be so simple. Not with how Jim was acting.
A glitter of red caught his eye and he stopped. There was a garnet on the floor. It was small and seemingly innocent. Though it was anything but.
It lay there where it should have been out of place.
"Do you need anything?" Jim asked.
"No. Let's keep going."
He went around the last pile of boxes and cam into full view of the scene. There was police tape around. In the way that told him that Jim himself had put it up. Bruce had seen the one crime scene technician he trusted outside but it seemed Jim was keeping him out until Bruce made the positive identification.
Bruce forced himself to stop focusing on the tape and look at the floor.
There were more garnets and now rubies and maybe even more that he couldn't identify. So many of them, scattered across the floor. Some were clumped together in patterns that resembled puddles.
Or pools of blood.
His stomach turned at the volume. He had seen the other scenes and none were like this. None had been filled with so many of the red gemstones.
Moving through the stones his gaze came to the center of the scene. If it were art he would have though it beautiful. It was. But more than that it was horrific.
He lay in the center of the scattered red gems. A beam of sun was hitting him perfectly to glint off the facets and smooth surfaces of the stone. Glittering like the precious material he was. Bruce could not name all the stones there, but he knew for the rest of his life he would never be able to look at a sapphire again without heartbreak.
Not after looking into the ones that were once his son's eyes.
They were open. And there was a look of mixed pain and fear on his face. One that Bruce had never seen before in life. One that he never wanted to see but would for the rest of time in his dreams. His pose was also of pain. He was curled on his side, gripping his midsection with one arm. The place where most of the blood had come from. There were signs of lacerations all over but that was the worst of them. It likely would have been fatal even without the magic.
This was by far the most brutal attack yet. None of the others had been so obviously in pain and tormented before their end. No others could suffer like he did.
It could not happen again. Whoever was killing with this magic had to be stopped. There was no more waiting. Help was out of time in coming to his aid.
He was broken out his thoughts by Jim.
"I need you to make the identification, Bruce," he said. "Then you can break down."
Jim was one of three that had seen him break last time. And would be the first to see it happen again. He would only have that time before having to pull it together for everyone else.
"It's him," Bruce said, more strongly than he should have been able too.
Jim's hand landed on his shoulder. He would have flinched from anyone else. But Jim was one of the few that he would allow it. Especially with where Bruce was standing. With what he was going to have to ask of Bruce.
"I need you to say his name. His full name. No nicknames," he said gently.
Bruce took another centering breath. And let it out. Then another in preparation to speak.
"Richard John Grayson."
His voice broke on his last name. Not even all the training he had gone through could stop it. He wasn't a superhero in that moment. Or a CEO. Or any of the other endless roles he played. No in that moment all he was, was a father.
One that had lost his child.
His eldest son. The one he had never gotten the chance to truly make his own. Dick had been his son even if the law didn't see it. Even if Dick sometimes hadn't seen it. They had gotten into more than one fight over that fact after all the others started appearing and Bruce formally adopted them. He had wanted to change that fact for years. Their relationship was finally in a place where they could have.
Tears were running down his face. He could feel them. Yet he did not move.
"Thank you," Jim said. "Let's get you home. And for what it's worth, I am so sorry for your loss Bruce. I mean that as your friend."
His hand shifted from a gentle one on his shoulder to an entire arm across both. Jim used it to guide Bruce out of the building and to the can he had been driven there in. He didn't notice anything else going on around him. He was lost in his own head. His own grief. Not sure what to do but knowing he only had a short amount of time to pull himself together.
The adoption papers he had gotten, to give to Dick at their private birthday celebration, would never see fruition.