I looked out my right eye the left one swollen shut, but that's the least of my injuries I can feel the blood oozing out of my side, the knife still stuck inside me and my hair is stiff from dried blood. I can't name a body part that doesn't have a sharp pain shooting through it. We put up a good fight, but the last thing I remember, we didn't win. It was a last ditch effort we got caught and had to hide in an abandoned store. We were outnumbered, there was no way could have won.

I smell the unmistakable scent of blood its metallic and familiar odor assaulting me. It wasn't just from my stab wound. I knew that much, and I knew I wasn't alone. The silence surrounding me seemed to get louder as I became more aware. My eye adjusts to the dim light. We did not win. This was the last stand, our final hope. A strangled cry escapes my lips as I look in horror at the sight a few feet away from me.

I see Damian he's covered in blood and...He isn't breathing. His Robin uniform is tattered and he's really dead. No coming back, dead. Permanently. I look away only to see Tim in a pool of his cold congealed blood, he's dead too. His mask broken into pieces revealing his lifeless blue eyes. He looks so pained even as he lay dead. Jason is beside him, he is just as dead as my other two brothers, Jason's death, at least looked quick a single shot to the heart. Bullet piercing rounds at a short distance, Kevlar barely makes a difference. It looks like he tried to protect Tim, but there wasn't anything he could do. Tim had been shot in an artery he bled out with every beat of his heart. No Lazarus pit or miracle could bring them back now. No one could do it, because we are all gone.

We were the last hope.

We failed, even as I lay here dying, I can't help but feel like I should have done more.

Bruce, Barbara, Cass, Stephanie, Alfred, and even Commissioner Gordon, they had already been killed. One by one violently and painfully all for what? In what cruel world is it that everyone I love is dead and I'm now slowly dying. Richard John Grayson, last of The Flying Graysons and the last of the adopted Wayne children, now. All the Robin had bonded together fought together, dying well, dead together.

If only I had the device they died for. I was now dying to protect. It couldn't fall into his hands, I wouldn't allow their sacrifices to be in vain.

I searched my pockets as best I could my left arm was dislocated and the other felt bruised. It was painful and I had to stop to take breaks, I started coughing up blood and I couldn't control the tears falling on my face that were blurring my vision. I knew for certain now that I had internal bleeding. I'll be dead soon. My hand strays to a pocket, a small black box with numbers. I found it. I can't believe that it's really in my hands. I still have it, somehow.

I can't think straight, why hadn't it been taken? I hear footsteps coming closer, oh he's coming now to take it. It better work, before Bruce died the last thing he said was, "Protect Gotham, if it falls the other cities will too."

The first city he came to, it hardly seemed like a challenge to kill bats. I wished that somehow things could change. Heroes in the other cities need to be warned. That was impossible.

The time piece can change back time, we all fought to keep it safe and it looked like I am the last person to have it. Should I? Is this the future that's supposed to happen? I hope not as I set the date back a month.

A coughing fit racks me I feel hot blood trickling down my chin and down my neck, I pray I'm in time as my vision fades to black.

It has to be enough or this is permanent, ever vigilante operating in Gotham is dead and I can't even imagine what would happen if... he got the time piece.

I have to make sure this future never happens. I press the button for time to turn back right as the door starts to open again. Blood and tears are covering my face as I see him checking to make sure we were all dead the last thing I see is him raising his boot over my head. All the good parts of my life flash before my eyes, my parents teaching me how to fly, my aunts and uncles playing with me, Christmases at Wayne Manor, being a big brother to all the Robins. My first kiss, Barbara smiling while kicking butt in her wheelchair, not a bad life. I never realized how good it was, I should have appreciated it more.

If it will only work. A redo, just a month. Thirty days, seven hundred and twenty hours, forty three thousand and two hundred minutes.

An explosion of pain then darkness.