Bruce is gone and that’s it. Damian wasn’t good enough fast enough to know or even save him. He was gone and Dick was Batman so now he was finally Robin
But his dad was gone, and he’ll never get to be his Robin. He only knew him for 8 months and never saw his face before the age of 10. What if he forgot what Bruce looked like? And only on these especially rainy Gotham days does he ever entertain that.
Today, Dick was showing Damian the joys of reality tv when he finally gave in.
“Grayson.”
“Yeah, Dames?”
“Can you show me my dad’s picture?” He solemnly asked.
After a moment of shock from Dick, a photo appeared as a phone was pressed into his hands.
It was Bruce and Damian, their backs facing the camera, as they baked one Sunday morning. Dick had sneakily took months before.
“Me and my dad… me and my dad…” Damian softly whispered as he studied Bruce’s face.
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Life is Fickle, Life is Short, But Never Should it Be That Short
TW's: Major character death(s), faked deaths, suicide, mentions of suicide, heavy angst (with some comfort), Violence, Kidnapping
Batman had been off world for almost two months now. He, along with the Lanterns, had gone to aid in gaining Earth a new political alley if they were ever to be attacked by something the Leagues couldn't handle.
Safe to say, Batman was ready to go home and have a makeup family dinner. The mission had gone on longer then any of them could have predicted, and so he had to miss the last dinner they had. Bruce was actually quite sad about that, he loved when all of his family was in one room even if he never vocalized it.
So after finally docking the JL's space craft, Bruce and co. quickly scrambled out of the ship, ready to fill out the necessary forms and get to their respective families and friends. Immediately though Bruce could tell something was off.
The landing, which at least would have someone there to greet them, was empty.
Hackles raised, Batman quickly signaled to the Lanterns with him that something was wrong. When he didn't hear at least some shuffling from them, he turned to the unusually silent men. They were all looking at their respective coms. Some had wide eyes, others mouths were hanging. They looked shocked, scared, even. Batman did not like that.
At all.
"What are you all looking at?" the demand rang out, causing the group to flinch as if they expected a demon to bust down the door and shred them to pieces. With glances, they collectively shoved Hal out as if choosing a sacrificial lamb for a wolves dinner. Batman narrowed his eyes in discomfort.
Hal said nothing, just slowly approached the kevlar clad man. Holding out his coms screen, Batman finally got a look at what they were all horrified of.
!ATTENTION! All Leaguers To Justice Hall For The Combined Funerals Of: Agent A, Nightwing, Redhood, Red Robin, Spoiler, Black Bat, Oracle, Signal, and Robin, At-
Deftly, Batman stared down at the message.
He felt numb.
So numb.
And then.
Rage.
Rage at not immediately being told.
Rage at not immediately being pulled from the mission.
Rage at the entirety of the Justice League for having a funeral without even telling him.
Rage at not being there to protect his family from what had killed them.
And then, it clicked! It must be an elaborate, very, very, misguided prank. After all, Superman wouldn't let his family die! He'd hear the struggle, the fading heart beats, the screams for help.
HE'D HEAR THOSE!
Wonder Woman would have helped them as well! She had been given one of the few bat distress signals! They'd have pressed the button and she would've come running!
SHE SHOULD'VE COME RUNNING!
The League would have noticed!
THEY WOULD HAVE NOTICED!
So obviously it was a prank! A stupid, horrible attempt at getting him to cut back on work! That was it!
And with those thoughts, Bruce went sprinting down to the Zeta Tubes and teleported to the Justice Hall.
When he finally got there, it was decked out in black. Silly them, it seems as if he needed to go over what the Leagues bank cards should be used for again!
Silly, silly, silly.
Bursting through doors, he finally found the main hall.
With the entirety of the Justice League. Dark, Young Justice, the Titians, everyone.
And would you look at that! They were all wearing black! Silly them! Didn't they know that all black was meant for the Bats?
Scanning the room filled with people, with heroes, he didn't see his children or not children or even his father. Not a single one. Whipping around, he came face to face with 9 caskets.
9 photos.
9 pieces of his family.
Suddenly, Batman felt a heavy but gentle hand land on his shoulder. He would develop whiplash if he kept this up. The hand was connected to a Superman. To Clark. To a sad Clark. A guilty looking Clark.
Why was he looking guilty?
"B, I'm so sorry." Salty tears flitted down the man of steel's face.
But Bruce didn't care.
Because all too soon, he realized, it wasn't a prank.
It was real.
And he couldn't handle it anymore. He couldn't handle it at all.
Quicker then anyone there thought he was capable of, he whipped out that small piece of Kryptonite and decked Superman. It was an all out brawl between him and the Leaguers after that. And he wasn't the one loosing.
So he decided, 'Fuck it, fuck it all,' and left the Leaguers with bruises and new scars when the younger Leaguers asked him to stop.
He then Zeta Tubed his way to the Bat Cave. To the smoke filled, ashy rooms.
Everything was offline, everything was silent, everything was dead.
Climbing up the elevator shaft, he reached what should have been the manor. Instead it was a desolate waste land of ashes, burned wood, and silence. Well, almost desolate.
A single safe stood out in the wreckage. And in quick order, wielding something that he never thought he would, Bruce joined his children.
---------------------
"Fuck! FUCK!" Superman shouted at the new funeral. One that wasn't ever meant to supposed to happen. But was a funeral ever meant to happen, ever expected? The man stared the rare photo of a smiling Batman. Of an alive Batman. Of an alive Bruce.
Tears ran hot down his face like molten lava, even as he heard the rest of the Leaguers joining him in his sorrow. He had went and tried to find Bruce after being knocked out, and only found his cooling corpse instead.
Supermans thoughts were interrupted when a bang, not all to unfamiliar, sounded out. Whipping his head up, he thought he was hallucinating. Because standing there were 9 dead people.
9 people who should have been dead.
"YO, where's B? We gotta debrief him on what happened-" Nightwings rambling got cut off as he looked just beyond Clark.
The others soon looked, and then the screams started.
"WHAT! NO! WHERE IS HE?"
"B, THIS ISN'T FUCKING FUNNY!"
"YOU UTTER BITCHES, YOU THINK THIS SHIT'S FUNNY?"
"DAD?! WHERE ARE YOU?!"
The wails of anguish filled the hall as the Leaguers surrounded them, trying their best to comfort the Bats as much as they can.
"What happened? Where were all of you?" Wonder Womans voice rang out above the quiet mummers and piercing wails. Alfred took it upon himself to explain, even if the wobbling voice hurt those surrounding him to hear.
"We were kidnapped by a rogue organization that figured out our identities. They were after Batman originally, but decided that the best way to get revenge was to torture all of us. They created clones, proceeded to slowly kidnap us one by one, until they eventually burned down the mansion with the husks inside."
And didn't that just make it so much more painful?
---------------------
He was floating.
He didn't know where he was.
He just was.
But he felt wrong.
He needed to do something.
Something to protect.
Not something, someone.
Multiple someones.
He needed to protect those dear to him.
He needed to protect his family.
His family.
Where was his family?
---------------------
With a sudden sharpness, a shadowy mass with flashes of grey skin opened its eyes. The eyes of the creature were pure white, and as it rose it's head, two horns became visible. It looked at where it woke up, surrounded in a cave system that pulsed with different colors, but blues being the most prominent.
Slowly, it got its bearings back to itself.
He knew he was dead.
But he also knew with a pulse of something, that his family wasn't.
And just like that, he was at two ornate doors, as big as the old manors door. He grabbed one handle with a clawed hand, pulling the surprisingly light door open. A vortex of green met his eyes.
All around was green.
He needed to fly.
He knew it should be impossible for him, but he didn't care, he needed to find his family.
To protect his family.
So with a flap of massive bat wings, he was off, looking for something.
That something turned out to be a giant, glowing, gothic castle. He quickly landed, hurdling through giant doors.
Soon enough, he met the one he knew would help. One that felt similar to him.
And the Ancient made of cosmos, with flowing white hair, never ending green eyes, crowned with stars, ice and aurora's, agreed.
---------------------
They were being beat by that same damned organization that cost them their colleague, their mentor, their friend, their father.
And they were all loosing.
Everyone was preoccupied with something, whether it was Kryptonite suits, incoming hoards of androids, or rogue powers spilling out. Flashes, bangs, and screams from all sides filled the air.
It was looking like the Leaguers were going to die.
The Bats, who should still be benched due to the traumatic and catastrophic events done by them, were not holding back. Blood was being spilt by all of them. The no killing rule was shot with a single bullet to the head.
So they didn't hold back, not at all.
But it still wasn't enough.
And they were loosing.
They were bleeding.
They were going to die.
And then the sky opened up, a massive vortex made up of glowing greens filled the sky. It reminded those who knew of them, of the Lazarus pits. But the fighting didn't stop. Oh no.
It only stopped when they came through.
A massive, humanoid being made of swirling galaxies with an infinite number of glowing green eyes and what could be considered a halo of floating white hair. Atop its head was a crown of equal proportion made of icy rods with stars twinkling weaved through an aurora pulsing around it all. It was terrifyingly beautiful.
And then, another one came out. This one was different, but oh so familiar looking.
It was as if a living shadow took shape, sucking in all of the light. It had two horns that stabbed through the air, with clawed hands and feet resembling the many gargoyles around Gotham. It's massive wings were pulled back, allowing for what little color, yellows, to peak through. It had a long, slender, spiked tail ending in a sharp looking diamond. Its hair, or what would have been hair, looked like it was slowly melting off, sliding onto what little grey flesh could be seen. It eyes were a pure, glowing white, and only when it opened its mouth, that too many fangs, not teeth, could be seen.
It was terrifying.
It was comforting.
And suddenly, shadowy ice spikes rose from the ground, impaling the ones trying to end the Leaguers.
The Bats.
After that, it was soon known that the Big Bad Bat was back.
srry, this got away from me lol. Anyways lemme know what you think of it :} Have any questions? Please ask! Just know it might take a little while for me to answer. Any criticisms? Welcomed as long as they are constructive!
"Gee Batsy, I can't thank you enough for the momento you left lodged in my skull .... I'm just as pleased as punch I could return the favor" - Me as the Joker at "Days of the Dead" Louisville
heres a new idea that DC should consider
the next issue of batman...i dont care which one. dark injustice, gliding sadness, calender man chronicles #3 they're all the fucking same
batman dies on the first page and the last panel of batman lying on the ground dead should be blown up and reprinted on the rest of the pages. that's it. nothing else.
everyone will want that issue because its so fucked.
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