I'll be good

Don't They Know It's The End Of The World

He looked at his boy, laying still and eyes closed.

And that was that. It hadn't worked.

It was supposed to work.

He couldn't let the loss consume him, couldn't let the grief consume him, but Bruce could already feel the numbness that was entering his mind and body. No matter how much he tried to expel it-- to will it to go away-- it was getting harder to deny its welcoming presence.

He couldn't feel himself standing, couldn't feel the heavy fall of rain or hear the growl of thunder. He couldn't remember the moment he tore his eyes away from the shell of the boy who was no longer there.

"Why?" Bruce snarled under his breath, eyes filling with fire and hatred as he turned his gaze upon Talia.

Talia met his heated gaze and held it for a moment before letting her eyes drop to the floor to where he lay. They stayed there, darting back and forth as though it pained her to look at him. But if it did, Talia was excellent at concealing her feelings, or she just didn't care. After all, it was on her order that Damian was now gone.

"Why!" he snapped again, hearing his voice break slightly and feeling the anger rise. She didn't answer or meet his eyes again, instead, she smiled-- not her signature smirk or a grin that reached her eyes-- just a slight twitch of her lips as though she was amused. Like she was holding back a laugh.

He was seething and completely passed the point of seeing red. He made a move towards her, ready to grab her, haul her to the ground and watch the life leave her eyes with his fists around her throat-- morals be damned.

He didn't quite anticipate the rough hands that gripped him from behind, forcing him back and down to his knees. It was then when she finally looked at him, that sadistic smile still on her lips.

"Everybody's replaceable," she said as she came to stand in front of him, letting herself tower over him.

Did she think she could intimidate him?

Did she really think there was anything left that she could do to hurt him?

Bruce didn't really know what to expect; he assumed now that Talia and her assassins had them all on their knees at her mercy, she would order all of their deaths-- that she would start with the boys, while he sat helplessly on his knees, forcing him to watch, then kill him. It would be easy for her, and she would have everything she wanted.

She leaned forward, whispering in his ear, "you know that better than anyone."

He felt the sharp sting in his neck the minute she pulled away. He could hear Dick, Jason and Tim struggling behind him, but he couldn't help them; he couldn't move. Talia's form was beginning to blur and the world around him was going dark. The next thing he knew, the hands that held him upright shoved him out of their grasp and he was falling, landing on the cold ground with a sickening thud as the world went black.

When he surfaced again, Bruce wasn't sure how much time had passed; all he knew was the throbbing sting in his head and the tremendous aching of his body. With great difficulty, he managed to roll onto his back, turning his blurry vision to look at the three unconscious, but still breathing boys behind him. A hint of relief flowed through him at the sight but was quickly snuffed out when he remembered the events of before.

No...

He quickly sat up-- head-heavy and body straining, pleading for rest-- his heart beating ruthlessly in his chest. He turned on his knees-- his muscles burning with every move, but he pushed the pain away-- squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at them in an attempt to clear his vision.