Chapter Text
He hadn’t slept more than a couple hours since then. He couldn’t. Not with his head replaying that night over and over. Not with the nightmares that jolted him awake as he sweat and sobbed for his parents who would never come. Attempting to protect his ears from the phantom sound of gunshots and screams. Bruce knew It was hurting him not to sleep, but he didn’t care. Mama and Papa were dead. Nothing else mattered anymore.
After months of going with barely any food, water or sleep, Alfred drugged him.
There was a man with a gun and a crazed look. He was yelling something, but Bruce was too scared to hear. Mama gently pulled him behind her and his dad went to comply with the man's demands. It didn’t matter. A gunshot rang out. Then another. Blood coated his face as he cried. Fat tears blurring his vision as he tried to shake his Mama awake. The scene changed. He was at their graves in a new suit, but his hands were still dripping with their blood. Suddenly a skeletal hand grabbed his foot. Another grabbed at his blazer and Bruce screamed. He kicked at them, trying to crawl away but the hands wouldn't let go as zombified versions of his parents slowly pulled their way upwards.
"It's your fault, you should have saved us." Papa whispered.
"We died because of you, take our place." Mama beckoned.
as they finally dragged Bruce under, His last thought was how grateful he was that this was a dream, not a nightmare. His parents would come back! He would be able to fix it even If that meant he would never be able to see them again. Bruce was dragged into the ground with a smile for the first time in months.
Instead of a coffin, Bruce found himself in a familiar dark cave. The sounds of screeches and chirps forcing his head up as bats flew from the roof after him. Bruce tried to run or cry for help, but it was no use. The bats began slowly tearing at his skin, still No one came for him. Finally, the bats gorged out his eyes, leaving everything a deep pitch black.
Bruce woke up silently sobbing. It was still pitch black and so cold. There was something dark and heavy covering his body, but when something bumped his leg, He let out a choked Sob. The bats were real. Bruce ripped them off and ran. He didn't know where, he just needed to get away
o0o0o0o0o0o
Tim was so tired. Lately, there had been a huge outbreak of dangerous Alien weapons, and everyone had been scrambling to fix it. The situation was so bad that no one had even pointed out how Tim had been lying his way out of most of his sleep. So yes, Tim was tired. But at least this was one of the last warehouses and the others were handling the rest. Maybe Afterwards, He thought. If only it had been that simple.
Batman and Red robin burst through the skylight, immediately fighting off security as the workers rushed to move the merchandise to a secure location. Tim looked over. Batman was doing fine with the goons, so, like they had agreed, Red Robin went for the merch. Or he would of if one of the workers didn't get in a lucky hit with a metal bat to the head.
Tim fell to knees, vision blurring as more goons held him down or pinned his arms back. One of them yelled something and threw his rebreather away, but the words felt blurred. definitely concussed. after what felt like either six hours or two minutes, the weight of the goons disappeared, and he was being sat up by Batman. B was talking to him, but when he saw nothing was getting through to his son, he took out his own rebreather. and shoved it securely into Tim's mouth.
Right. Before. A gas canister hit the floor and exploded.
Thick black smoke enveloped the warehouse. Tim grabbed at Batman, trying to prepare for the worse. It was an unfamiliar gas, and batman seemed to be the only one without a mask. He would need to be ready to fight if the need arose.
What he wasn't ready for, was the barely concealed sob of a child coming from nearby. The source seemingly vanished. Still, he waited, gripping onto Batman's armor.
When the gas finally cleared enough to see, Tims heart nearly stopped. Instead, he turned on comms.
"B? Batman, come in batman" There was no response.
"Oracle"! Please tell me you can find Batman. I think I've been dosed with some of the gas. Some might have gotten through the mask. Audio hallucinations, maybe more. But B got it so much worse! and now- Tim let go of the now empty armor that sat beside him.
"Batman's Missing"
o0o0o0o0o0o
It was one of those rare, clear nights when the moon was out. Dick was grappling through Gotham, searching for Batman when he saw a child curled up, quietly crying on one of the abandoned buildings rooftops, and as worried as he was for B, the longer he was out there, Dick was and always would be Nightwing. He landed on the ledge. The boy had his back against the building's stairway access a few feet away. He was dressed fancier than he should be around here, draped in a black blanket but rocking slowly with head resting on his knees.
"Are you ok"
He flinched violently and looked up, but instead of recognition of the hero, Dick was met with even more fear, and a feeling like a punch to the gut.
"Damian?"
Because The boy looked like a younger, deathly pale version of his younger brother.
"Wh-Who are you?" The clone tried to stand well baking up even further into the wall, But the action did nothing except bring attention a familiar cowl connected to the blanket that had fallen in front of both of them. For a second, nobody moved. Then-
"Bruce?"
His dad flinched again as once stoic glacier blue eyes appeared to melt into tears. But quickly, Bruce wiped them away, Tring to look as brave as possible.
"Did you take me here? Are you another kidnapper?
In truth this man didn't seem like a kidnapper, in fact, a voice in his head was telling him that this person was trustworthy. But that wasn't right, Was it? No He'd never seen this person before, and even if he had, they were wearing a mask, He must have something to hide.
"What? No, Bruce" The man seemed to contemplate before putting one hand up and slowly using the other to peel off his mask.
"My names, Nightwing. I'm a hero and can get you back to Alfred.
Upon hearing the name and seeing his son's face, Bruce immediately relaxed. His mind was giving him the overwhelming feeling that this person was safe. The adrenalin faded and Bruce was so tired. He Fainted
Before the boy could hit the ground, Dick ran and caught him. Lifting him safely into his arms.
He was too light. Dick would have thought he were closer to six if he didn't know better. But he'd seen those eyes before. They were the same eyes that used to stare back at him in the mirror.
Behind all the fear and confusion, was pure unimaginable grief. A stray tear fell down the boy's cheek, and Dick felt a sudden wave of protectiveness hit him. Bruce had saved him, but even now he was still so full of grief and pain. The situation was terrible, but maybe, he could save Bruce too.
Careful not to bump the sleeping child in his arm, Dick tapped his comms
"Hey O? We may have a slight problem. "