[TOO FAR GONE] - DAMIAN WAYNE - DC COMICS

just out.

A light washed over us and in the corner of my eye I could see him almost ready to fire a third bullet. Though this time, it was obvious the barrel wasn't aiming for my leg. My head fell back in disappointment, and suddenly my hood dropped as well. Maybe this was a good thing. I could see the anger in his eyes flood with grief as he realized what he did. The gun that was previously clenched tight then dropped to the floor, and I couldn't decide what he was more upset about; The discovery that he just shot his son twice and was about to go round three, or the fact that he just revealed his actual ways to the child he had been grooming not to do these quote unquote heinous things.

I grabbed my leg, trying my best to hold on for a few more minutes. I couldn't stand up, and I thought he was about to cry at the sight of me stumbling to the door. I needed to escape. I could see him slowly make his way towards me, and I did not want to be near him.

"No!" I screamed, as he was about to help me. I sent him a dirty glare that quickly faded as an overload of emotions struck me. This didn't make any fucking sense! I held my leg with one hand as I somehow managed to crawl to the door, leaving a river of blood behind me. I had no idea what to do... There were things I wanted to say... Things I wanted to yell, more specifically, and I wasn't leaving till I threw my two cents in. But I just couldn't look at him.

I slowly but surely made my way through the manor and struggled to turn the doorknob as I began to cough up blood. I didn't want to be in my room, I wasn't myself anymore. Or was I? Shit this was confusing. Everyone was playing dress up, everything was fake... My father was about to send one straight to my head, yet he had once claimed he never even held a gun. Clearly that was some bull shit! I was so lost... My father wasn't who he said he was, and I... I had been lying to myself too. Well the games are fucking over... It's time to be honest... There was only one reason I was born. And that's the only reason I'll stay alive for. I'm an assassin. Point blank period.

I rummaged through his drawers, I needed new clothes, needed a new look, needed a new life. I was lucky I grew this past year, somehow I managed to fit in his clothes, and damn this felt right. I was missing out. I was so used to hiding knives beneath my attire, but today would be the day I changed it up a bit. Guns strapped to the many holsters I wore, I threw on a leather jacket and crawled out of there. This was a new beginning. And Bruce had no fucking idea what he started.

There was still so much blood, and the next thing I knew the pants I just threw on were soaked as well. But it didn't matter. I had many things on my mind, and you best believe I was about to voice 'em. I knew he'd be in his room, probably in mid mental breakdown as the events of the night overwhelmed him. But I wasn't overwhelmed, no... I was excited.

There he was, sitting on his bed, staring into space as if the world had just ended. And boy was it about to. Walking was still near impossible, but I somehow managed to make an entrance, one I knew he wouldn't forget.

"What's wrong father?" I bantered. If he could fire bullets, so could I. He looked up, shocked to see me in Jason's old clothes.

"What are you doing?" He said sternly, as if I was still his screwed up child gone innocent.

"What am I doing?" I wanted to laugh.

"I could have asked you the same question!" His eyes spoke more than they needed to, and I had a feeling the whole story would unravel in a matter of minutes. I guess I was too blind to see it.

"You're so weak." I said strongly, watching him slowly shut his eyes.

"You think you're strong? Think you're top dog because you run around at night saving Gotham from scum? Maybe you should try saving yourself... Absolutely pathetic." I knew my words were harsh, and I knew there would be a breaking point in which a fight would break even. And damn was I just waiting for that to occur.