A/N: Hello readers, I'm working on the third story "IF" but it's still only about half way done so I decided I'd post the first scene from it as a preview.

Enjoy and please drop a review. Seriously, I have 14 on IT why is there only 8 here?

Preview for IF:

Damian opened his eyes just in time, his hands reaching out as he fell towards the damp gravel.

"Damian!"

That was Dick. The assassin's head snapped upwards towards the origin of the yell. As soon as blue met blue in the moment though, the sound of a fired bullet ripped its way through the air. The spiraling sound waves hit the back of his skull, giving him one heck a headache that the mugger was soooo going to pay for. Of course, before the child could turn his eyes back towards the mugger he saw the bullet that had released the sound embed itself into Dick Grayson's chest. The bullet hit high and to the right, turning the shocked body around in the air. The acrobat hit the ground face down. In the back of his mind, Damian was wondering where his father was. Batman wouldn't have allowed this to happen and Bruce Wayne definitely wouldn't have allowed this to happen. Not again. Not to his family.

But Damian had little time to worry for his father that was nowhere in his vision. He prepared to turn back to the mugger and pound his face in for shooting Dick but- the sudden feel of sticky plasma on the back of his skull made him freeze. Was that…was that blood?

He did manage to turn his head completely though as he felt his arms give out and his chest began descending towards the ground again. The mugger wasn't there. The man standing there now had paste-white skin, bright red lips and a permanent, crazed, mad smile. The Joker.

Who promptly laughed out loud at the boy at his feet before pointing his gun towards one of the alley's side walls.

Damian's head was already on the ground, but with an effort he managed to stretch his gaze in the direction the crazy clown was pointing-more out of curiosity than anything else. His breath got caught somewhere in his stomach at the sight.

"Father."

Bruce Wayne was lying against the wall, his eyes wide and clouded over…in a state of death. His throat…torn out.

Both…they were both-!

"Hush little birdie, don't chirp a word…"

BOOM!

Blood splattered everywhere. The pale body that fell over Damian had no head and the boy, out of fear or loss of possible retribution, found strength that he didn't know he had and scrambled to get out from underneath it. Once sitting up in the alleyway, he heard approaching voices. A lot of voices. When the first member of the street patrol stepped into one of the entrances of the alleyway, Damian reached up to run a hand over the back of his skull. Most of the blood that covered him was from the now headless figure. In fact, there was only a single scratch on the back of his skull, that while bleeding, wasn't very painful nor very hazardous in the least. So, there had been a bullet before his brain had registered the second firing?

It had only grazed his skull then.

"KID!"

Hands were shaking his shoulders…which were trembling in-Shock? Fear? Sorrow?

Maybe, parting his lips he tasted salt and knew that blood was metallic so-were there tears?

The rest of the scene faded into obscurity as dozens of other voices joined the figure that was still shaking him. He did sense a second person who reached up with something in their hand. It looked like a scarf and they wiped away the blood on his cheek. Unfortunately, the scratchy material of the scarf also smeared the blood into his left ear and eye.

"Sweetie, are you OK?"

Before he passed out from stress or…sorrows (he wasn't sure) he promised himself to punch whoever muttered the ridiculous statement in the near future and his thoughts flew to his father and Dick. What about them?

Review please or type up some theories, I could use some inspiration.

~Moonsetta