Who will love a little sparrow? Will no one write her eulogy? ~ Simon and Garfunkel

Bruce holds a single handful of soil in his hand and can't believe what's happening.

Because it can't be happening.

It's impossible. He can't be standing here, watching a coffin too small to be built for anyone but a child, be lowered into the ground.

It's not possible that he has to stand by and watch as another body is buried on Wayne grounds.

Not possible that he has to see as his son is laid to rest.

And he's not crying, because this is impossible. It's a dream. Any minute now, he'll wake up – crying, sobbing, terrified – but he will wake up. And the first thing he'll do when he wakes up is run to Jason's room and check on his boy, his son, make sure that he's alive and his heart is beating and he isn't being lowered in a casket into a hole in the ground.

And Jason probably won't get it, probably won't understand, probably won't like the sudden hug and the intense lecture he will get, but Bruce will have reassured himself that he hasn't lost his son.

His breath is shuddering now, though he's not crying yet, and Dick has placed a hand on his back to steady him.

Bruce doesn't want to feel that touch, because if he can feel that touch that means this isn't a dream.

It's a nightmare, but it's not a dream.

That's his Jason, his son, being buried.

The dirt in his hand mocks him. Another member of his family is being buried, being consumed and swallowed by the earth. Except this time it's his son who is leaving him, taken away from him forever. Rather than the parents who protected him, this is the child he should have been protecting. The boy who deserved so much more than to die abandoned and betrayed far from his home.

The tears started to leak out and Bruce can't control his breathing anymore, isn't even trying. He lets out shuddering gasps that make his whole body tremble. Dick's hand is still strong and steady on his back but it's not helping. It just makes him feel worse to realize that his eldest son is trying to comfort him as his little brother is buried.

Bruce knows they're not legally father and son, and neither were he and Jason, but he was so prepared, so ready to love them as his own. And now he's not sure he'll ever be able to love again, because his heart is being damaged beyond repair.

Dick is the one who guides Bruce's hand over the grave, and Bruce opens it, allows the cruel, uncaring earth to begin the process of consuming his child.

When the service is over Dick leaves, but Bruce waits behind, watches as the dirt is solemnly piled on, and Jason is lost to him forever.

A/N: I'm sorry about how terribly sad this one is. I feel like these chapters got progressively sadder as they went on. I hope none of you became depressed as you read this.