Redwing: The Darkest Day

Chapter One

Looking down at his grandfather, Ian didn't know how to react. Moments ago, he was throwing punches like any other day and then suddenly he was laying on the ground while the last remnants of his life slowly drained into the growing pool of blood around him.

A long, jagged iron beam protruded from his grandfather's chest. It must have fallen and impaled him after Bane threw him against the wall.

The rusty red liquid slowly leaking from his grandfather was numbing. This was Batman after all. Batman can't die. Can he?

"Bruce..." Ian took a look at his adopted grandmother, Selina Kyle, her lips trembled as she spoke, "Bruce, you can't leave us. Not yet. You aren't allowed." She held onto him as if her grip could hold him, force his spirit to stay in his body.

"Catwoman. We have to get out of here, get his body somewhere private," Tim said, finally speaking up, seemigly breaking himself out of his own shock.

We were all in shock, how could we not be. This was Tim and Dick's dad and Selina's husband. He was The Batman, Gotham's Dark Night. He had survived much worse than this. It was hard to believe that his life force was slowly spilling onto the ground below.

Finally Dick broke the silence, "Tim's right, we need to get moving. Ian, help Tim move him, I'll get the Batmobile somewhere close by to load him up," his tone was as serious as ever. If this had affected him in any way, he was either already over it or compartmentalizing it.

Picking up one side of the corpse that was once my grandfather, Ian and I began moving towards a back door of the museum. Slowly, but steadily, we got him into the car and the door closed.

Getting in the passenger side, Selina slid into the seat next to me. "It'll be okay Red, I know it. We just have to get through it." Her words hid her sorrow, but her eyes couldn't lie, she was on the edge of breaking down, but who could blame her? Her husband's corpse is in the backseat after all.

"Let's just get back so we can set him up a proper funeral," looking at her, I knew she understood that I no longer wanted to continue talking on the subject. The logo on my chest wasn't the only red I wore tonight.

Selina turned the car on, a gentle roar signaling the beast of a vehicle coming to life. It's funny, with how advanced every other piece of technology grandpa designed, he never did find a way to silence the car engine.

Turning around, I see Tim and Dick standing there on the sidewalk talking. I figured that they would continue after Bane while we returned to the house. We still weren't entirely sure why he broke into the Gotham Historical Museum in the first place. The only new thing that had come in recently was a Superman exhibit, but most of it was just pictures or videos of the hero's feats. Was it possible that Bane was after the small collection of LexCorps tech components on display? I'll have to double back and check in on that in civilian clothes.

It will take around 30 minutes to get back to the cave, back to the mansion. Ian couldn't wait to get back to his room in the great building so he could begin processing what had happened and start to get his head on straight.

As they passed through the jungle of concrete, steel, and blinding neon, he struggled to align his thoughts. He couldn't help but feel like he needed to escape, to get away from all of this. To get away from Gotham and all of its darkest secrets.

"Is the Abgrath branch still in need of management?" His words broke the tension of the vehicle, causing his grandmother to turn towards him.

"I- I believe so. Why do you ask?"

"I'll take the job." His words were sullen and filled with a mix of fear, despair, and intent. Never had the possibility of death dawned on him like it had in this moment. Not only was it possible, but it had happened, and the proof sitting in the back seat kept the knoweledge stagnant in the air.

The rest of the car ride home was in complete silence, Ian's words hung in the air. Weighted with intent and resolve. He needed to get out of Gotham. He didn't know much, but he knew that. He needed out.

Selina sat in silence, shocked by her grandson's words. Why would he want to leave Gotham, why now? Was the pain too much? She wasn't sure, but she was worried. She would put the transfer in of course, but she'd keep an eye on him, even as far away as he would be in Abgrath.

The silence ended as they approached the hidden doors to the Bat Cave, embedded in the cliffside below the overhanging on which Wayne Manor sat quiet and peaceful. Hiding the pain it was soon to be filled with behind shuttered windows, darkened hallways and locked doors.

"Computer. Open the cave door," her voice shook as she said it knowing that everything that had happened at the museum would have to become real again the second her now late husband was laid on the operating table. She understood the pain her grandson felt. Could she even continue being Catwoman after all of this?

The car stopped on a rotating plaform. Both got out, began to pull the body from the backseat and brought his cold and lifeless form to the stainless steel operating table in the medical station. Laying him gently on the silver surface, they watched as his chest fell one last time, officially letting his final breath escape the pained lungs which held it.

As the large, cicular platform finished turning the Batmobile towards the Cave's doors, Tim and Dick both rode into the Cave on their respective motorcycles, stopping just before the stairs to the main platform of the underground fortress that was built long before any of them joined the Dark Knight in his crusade for justice.

As they approached the metal table and looked down upon the broken, bloody body of Bruce  Wayne, the playboy billionaire that was the original caped crusader. The man who took the lives of the many citizens of Gotham into his own hands without needing to be asked and did everything in his power to protect them. 

This was the man whose crusade had stopped countless attempts to harm Gotham's citizens. His path started when his own parents were  shot and killed in an alleyway next to a theather by one of Gotham's first criminals, Joe Cool. Now, deceades later, that same journey came to an end doing what he swore to do every day since then.

Having heard the cave doors open Alfred, the butler who had stood by Batman ever since that fateful day, entered the cave to welcome us all home. Upon seeing the familiar figure on the table, he stopped. A small gasp barely escaping his lips.

Every person in the room understand what had happened and each of us were hurting. None of us knew what we should do next, but one thing was clear.

The Batman was dead.