So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows

~Billy Joel

Prologue

The boy stumbled his way up the front walk. A yellowing bandage was wrapped around the crown of his head; only tufts of his dark black hair were exposed to the outside air. One arm wrapped around his middle in attempts to slow the bleeding of the gash in his side. His other hand clutched the staff like a lifesaver. At this point it was the only thing holding him up.

He wobbled up to the front steps. He took a couple of shaky deep breaths before beginning his ascent.

It was only five steps. Five. That was the same amount of digits one had on a single hand. And by the time he was to the third stair, he was out of breath. At the fourth he was nauseous and dizzy. He collapsed upon the fifth stair and lay bleeding on the ground.

He was failing. He had failed. His eyes closed in resignation at the fact. But he couldn't give up. No, he promised he would make it back home and be safe. And he was going to fulfill his promise if it killed him.

Using the last of his strength, he used the staff in his hand and pressed it against the doorbell. He heard the echoing chime in the halls inside.

He rested his head against the step, ready to accept the inevitable.

The door opened and a dark-haired figure poked his head out. He looked around, but didn't see anyone on the stoop. He began to retreat back into the house.

"Di-ick," he croaked.

Bright blue eyes shot downward to the stairs, and the blue eyes grew as wide as saucers.

"Little D?"

Disbelief laced every inch of his voice. That was a voice he had never expected to hear again. He stared for a few seconds before rushing his younger brother and gathering him into his arms, mindful of the injuries on his person and ignoring the blood getting on his clothing. He turned and began running into the manor screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Bruce! Alfred! I need medical attention, STAT!"

The last thing before his vision completely faded to black was a familiar clock sliding open and the musky smell enter his nose.

"How can we be sure that it's him?" A snide voice asked. Jason Todd.

"DNA says it's him," another answered gently. Grayson.

"DNA can be cloned. Didn't you say that he said your first name? The Demon we knew would never address you, or us, as such," Todd retorted.

"Why don't you just ask him? He's awake now," A new voice said. Father.

He opened his eyes. Or as much as he could, one eye was swollen almost shut.

Damian's heart made a small leap in his chest. They were here for him.

"Fa-" his voice cracked. Dick immediately was at his side offering a glass of water with a straw. Damian took a few hesitant sips. He swallowed and looked to his father again.

"Father, what happened?"

"You suffered a concussion, a stab wound to your left side, narrowly missing your left lung, your knee was fractured and you lost a great deal of blood. You're lucky to even be alive."

To think he wasn't a few weeks ago.

There was silence after Bruce finished speaking. Bruce and Dick were looking at Damian and Jason was staring at his feet, arms crossed. Alfred walked into the room and cleared his throat.

"Yes, Alfred?" Bruce asked.

"That was the third time I have tried to contact Master Timothy within the past few hours, Master Bruce. There is still no answer on the other end."

A worried look crossed Dick's face. Timmy was never not near his phone. And even if he did miss a call, he was quick to call back.

Bruce allowed one eyebrow to rise. That was unlike his second youngest son.

Even Jason with his ever present scowl allowed for a moment of concern.

Damian's eyes filled with tears despite himself. Tears were still a sign of weakness, and Damian was not weak.

"Little D? What's wrong? Does this have anything to do with Tim?"

Damian looked away from his older brother. He couldn't tell. He failed. They would never accept him now.

"Damian?" Bruce pressed. "What do you know about Tim that you're not telling us?"

Damian looked to the other men in the room. Each had a concerned look on his face. A twinge of sadness washed over him.

"He's dead," he croaked out. He closed his eyes and a few tears escaped from his swollen eye.

"I killed him."

A/N: And this is what happens when I read back my old comics with Damian and listen to Billy Joel at the same time. And I realize that the song may not mesh perfectly with what I'm writing, but jeez, it's enough to get pulling on your heart strings.

Also, I should mention, that this story could be the Reboot universe with origins, timeline, and characters from pre-reboot, OR it's pre-reboot already with a few elements of the reboot thrown in. Either way, it's au.

As always, review. :D