Bruce glanced over at Dick, whose hands were taught on the controls of the Batwing. Bruce was worried. More worried than he'd ever been. Dick hadn't been doing well, since Damian died. None of them had. But Dick had by far felt the child's absence the most. Dick had become angry, harsh without Damian there to balance him out. Without someone else to take care of, Dick was losing himself.

"Get yourself together, Nightwing. We need to do this, and do it fast," Tim snapped from the cargo bay.

On a day from before, Tim would have never spoken to Dick with such a harsh tone. Jason would have snorted and made a joke at Dick's expense. Dick would have laughed. Cass would have smiled. Damian would have defended Dick's honor, and threatened to take Tim down. Tim would have been indignant as to why he'd been drawn in again. And on it would have gone.

But Damian was gone. Dick was breaking. Tim was angry. Cass was quiet. Jason was sad. Everything was falling apart.

Damian's body was stolen last week. His too-small grave had been dug up, and his coffin broken. Bruce was incensed, and all of Batman Incorporated had been called in for assistance. They had failed him once. They were not going to fail him again.

"Five minutes until drop off," Barbara intoned from the Cave. "Everybody, get ready."

There was light shuffling as Alfred took control of the plane, and all the members of the broken family prepared to make their exit. They were a terrifying sight. Bruce stepped forward. "Talia is going to try to revive him. Try to throw him into the Lazarus Pit. Time is of the essence. Get to him… his body before they can submerge him. We need to make sure this doesn't happen. We need to save him."

"Damian," Dick croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. He glared at Bruce through his domino. "His name is Damian and he was your son. You should say his name."

Bruce took a harsh step towards Dick and loomed over him. "Convince me right now that you can handle this, Dick. Otherwise I'm leaving you behind. I will not let you compromise this mission. …Damian is too important," Bruce said, choking a little on his name. "Jason told you! He told you what it was like to be resurrected like that! Told you how horrible it was! If you really loved Damian, you would never subject him to that! Ho-"

Bruce was cut off by a warm hand on his arm. It was Cassandra. She slipped her mask of, showing Bruce her face, her swollen eyes, the tears wetting her cheeks. She shook her head. Bruce took a deep breath and backed off, glancing at Jason. It really was a strange world, that he was trusting Jason to keep Dick in line for this mission.

The thought stung him. The world ended when Damian Wayne died.

"Prepare for dropoff," Barbara said through the coms unit, and the cargo bay door opened, and the Bats descended from the sky like the wrath of God, if any divine being had ever shown such fury.

It was a dangerous fight. A fight that ended in bloodshed and death. But Talia had predicted their arrival and had done her best to stop them. But she had underestimated their anger, and they had caught up to her quickly. Too quickly.

Talia saw her beloved from the corner of her eye and knew she had run out of time. She kissed her son's cold cheek, caressing his hair, before shoving his body unceremoniously from the ledge and watching it fall lifelessly until it hit the unholy water below with a dull splash.

"NO!" Bruce roared, sprinting to the edge to peer over, to desperately search for the beloved face, panic and fear and hope and anger all flashing by so quickly there was nothing for him to hold onto.

Bruce's little ragtag family was quick to follow, his agonized voice immediately drawing them all near.

"It is too late, Beloved. He is coming back. You can't stop it." Talia said, and she watched her beloved's orphans stiffen at her words.

"What have you done?" Jason roared at her, but she was more interested in the acrobat who hadn't slowed at the edge of the Pit, and would have flung himself off it at full speed if that ninja girl hadn't tackled him in time.

The Pit below them bubbled, drawing their attention. Something was coming. Talia smiled viciously at Bruce but he was gone. She glanced down at the glowing water, but only the acrobat had made it down to the edge, scrambling rather ungracefully over the stone while the others followed.

It was a mistake to waste that moment looking over the edge. Bruce grabbed her from behind, and he plunged a needle into her neck. Her consciousness was fading fast, and she used her last moments awake to tell him: "You cannot take him from me. In life as in death, he is mine."

She was unconscious before she could hear Bruce's words, "You do not deserve him, and he was never yours."

Bruce dropped her body unceremoniously and made his way down to his family. Despite Jason's warnings, Dick had waded into the water in search for Damian. He stooped over and swept his arms back and forth, searching for the child in the water.

"I can't find him," Dick sounded panicked.

Tim was eager. "Keep looki–"

The Pit erupted, as a small body launched itself from the depths.

"Damian!" Dick shouted, his voice breaking. Tears were flowing freely down his face.

About 10 feet away, Damian stood, with his back to his family, taking huge, shuddering breaths, body dripping wet. But he was breathing. They could all hear it.

Bruce jumped into the water. Jason shouted, "Dick, wait!"

But Dick couldn't wait. His whole heart, his whole soul was just feet from him. All that was broken, all that seemed lost was now fixed. Fingers grazed a small shoulder.

Hell came from the depths.

The scream that split the air was earth-shattering. Damian lunged at Dick, swiping his face and drawing blood before launching himself at his other siblings still on the bank.

Damian's movements were erratic, but fast. He was snarling like a cornered animal, ready to lunge, attack, kill. His eyes were glowing with the residual effects of the Pit, and were unfocused and darting. He launched himself at Jason and managed to stab him in the leg, before darting to Tim. Damian was on top of Tim in seconds, gripping his throat and squeezing his all his might. Tim choked, staring at Damian with wide eyes. He would let Damian kill him if that's what it took. He owed him that.

But then Damian was gone, and Tim was sputtering for breath, rubbing his throat as he rolled onto his hands and knees.

Cass had tackled Damian and was now rolling around with him. Damian was wild, striking to maim, to kill. Cassandra responded with a quiet sense of duty, only blocking and trying to restrain, but never returning any of his vicious attacks with her own.

Finally, Bruce was there, and his absolute strength pried them apart. Bruce grabbed his son, and held him close, ignoring the fighting, the biting, the hits, the pain. He just huddled near the craggy wall, clutching his son. Damian let out a frustrated scream when his attacks had no apparent effect on his captor.

Dick approached slowly, ignoring the blood inching down his face. "Hey, Dami. Hey babybird. It's me. I'm here. I'm here to help you. Let me help you lil D. Damian. Robin."

It was a miracle. The sound of Dick's voice, soft, calming, soothing, made Damian freeze. Everyone held their breath. Damian blinked at his brother owlishly.

The sound he made next was inhuman. A sound of so much pain, so much fear, so much hopelessness, that it broke Dick's shattered heart all over again. And then, he wanted to vomit.

Because in his attempt to restrain his son, Bruce had cornered him into a wall, and had allowed Damian to brutalize him. But he had failed to see how desperate Damian was, how scared.

Bruce held him tightly, and his arms were immobilized, but that didn't stop him. Damian leaned his head forward slowly, and before anybody could react, he smashed it back into the rocks behind him.

Dick was there in a flash, but by then, Damian had gotten three good hits in. There was blood on the rocks.

Bruce held him tightly, and with Dick's help, managed to get him away from the wall. Jason leaned on Cassandra, grimacing in pain. Cass couldn't tell if it was from the stab wound or watching his littlest brother try to bash his own brains out. Tim watched in open-mouthed horror.

At last, Damian stopped struggling, no doubt feeling the ramifications of the assault on his own body. But a high pitch keening was coming from his mouth, and finally heavy, open-ended sobs. They were the cries of a wounded animal, of a dying soul, not a human child.

"Daeni 'amut!" he screamed. "Aqtilni! Arjuu-ka!"

Tim started crying openly, eyes wide in horror. Jason leaned heavily on Cass, who watched the scene in devastated silence.

Dick cradled Damian's body, who had gone completely limp, but for his insistent begging and sobbing.

"No," Dick said softly, soothingly, fiercely. "No. I will not let you go Damian. Never again." It seemed like an age passed before Damian stopped blabbering, but he wouldn't stop keening. A high pitched whine wouldn't leave his throat. Dick and Bruce stood, Dick cradling a limp Damian, Bruce checking the damage on Damian's head. Dick's arm was covered in blood. Damian's blood.

"Come on," Bruce said, voice hoarse. "We need to get him home."

They made their way back to the Batwing with no other sounds, besides the terrible noises Damian was making in his throat.

Dick only let him go to wrap him in a warm blanket, but other than that, refused to let him go. Bruce surveyed his head and stitched up the gash with the child still limp in Dick's arms.

Dick never stopped rocking back and forth, never stopped talking, kept whispering to the boy, promising, clutching him to his chest.

"How'd it go?" came Barbara's nervous voice from Gotham.

"We're on our way home," Bruce said tiredly. "Robin flies again. I don-I don't know how he will survive this, but he's alive."

Dick couldn't take his eyes off the body in his arms. If it weren't for the fear that he could hurt Damian, he would crush him to his chest and never let him go. But Damian was limp in his arms, and Dick could sense his fragility. He never stopped talking. Until-

"Gray-Grayson?" Dick's heart stopped beating at the hoarse whisper in his ear. He froze, and Tim and Cassandra's eyes locked onto him, noticing his shift from constant movement to utter stillness. Jason was asleep, slumped on Tim's shoulder.

"Yes," Dick whispered back. "It's me."

The next words would be words that Dick would never forget as long as he lived.

"Please kill me. Please."

Notes:

arjuu-ka - - aplease/I'm begging you - أرجوك
daeni 'amut - . .toe - let me die - دعني أموت
aqtilni - .ee - kill me - اقتلني

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