[TOO FAR GONE] - DAMIAN WAYNE - DC COMICS

just go.

I watched as he approached the man, picking up my knife on the way over.

"Nobody stabs my brother!" He yelled, each word a new hole in the man's chest. I was in shock. And not just because there was a knife stuck in my back... No... It was Jason's respectable response that got me. He just killed that man... Solely because that man was about to kill me...

And he called me his brother?

I'll say it a thousand times over but damn was he all over the place! I could not be more confused, but I wasn't going to question it... He threw the body to the ground, the knife quick to follow as he ran over to check up on me.

"Why did you... What did you do that for?" I wonder, trying to sit up.

"Stay put." He demands, standing up as we hear sirens in the distance.

"Fuck..." He whispers under his breath.

"It's fine, now come on!" I say, trying my best to stand up.

"Will you cut it out!" He yells, pushing me back down.

"I'm being serious. Do not move." He enforces, pacing back and forth. He takes off his jacket, throwing it in the dumpster that sat a few feet away from the dead body. He reaches for the knife, discarding that as well. He comes back over to me, kneeling down as he helps me roll over. He removes my bloody shirt, placing it at his side.

"This will hurt." He reminds me, as if I didn't already know. He rips the knife from my body, quickly throwing the shirt atop the wound to then apply pressure. The sirens become louder as they begin to approach faster.

"Come on..." He grunts, trying to pull me up. He takes my hand and put it over the fabric, nodding at me.

"Hold this here. Don't loosen your grip. Push down as hard as you can." He instructs, and for once I don't feeling like arguing and being a smart ass about it.

"Okay." My voice is weak, and he can tell I sound broken.

"It's going to be alright." He tries to reassure, though I didn't necessarily think it to be true considering the alley was now outlined in a flashing blue and red.

"Now leave." He strictly demands, trying to gently push me away.

"What are you-" He doesn't waste time listening to the rest of my question.

"I'm a fucking killer for God's sake, and I acted like one. So this time, for once in my life, I'll pay the price for what I am... What I did." A car door slams, and he pushes me to the side.

"Go, alright? Please just go." He asks, his voice light and insistent. I decide to listen, and begin to rush out of there while trying my best to keep the fabric on my abrasion. I turn back to see him, practically lost in his self hatred. It was all in the eyes. I knew exactly what he was feeling. Cause you better believe my eyes were telling the same story right now. "I'm sorry." I yell back to him, and for once it sounded sincere.

And for a second, I thought he was thinking the same thing. But judging by the look he still wore, I knew he was still angry with me. He just sacrificed his whole world, all so I'd be able to live in mine.

I got out of there in the nick of time, and I watched as he rode off in the police car, the investigation units soon arriving at the scene. Not wanting to witness anything else I decided it'd be best if I just walked back to the apartment. It was difficult, I won't lie. My ribs were more than sore, and I knew the wound on my back was no better. I walked shirtless through the streets, shivering. But not because I was cold. I was sick. And not the cough cough kind either. I literally just felt sick. It was hard to describe, but I couldn't piece together was going on, and I was confused as to all that just happened. I returned back to the apartment, nearly collapsing on the couch, screaming out at the unbearable pain.

"Please help me!" I yelled, but no one was there to answer. I began to tear up, as the combination of the wound and my sickness partnered up to break me. And boy was it working. But I was determined to keep going. I had to keep going... It just wasn't fair to stop. I still needed answers. And so did he.

I rolled off the couch, crawling towards my room. I pulled the sheet off my bed, tightly wrapping it around my abdomen. I then reached in my closet to grab a shirt, cautiously pulling it over my head. I sniffled as I sat there alone in the room, looking for some type of answer. And that's when I found it. I quickly shifted, inching over towards my dresser. I rummaged through my knife drawer, trying my best not to cut off a finger when I finally fished out what I wanted. I unfolded the crumpled piece of paper, smoothing in out on my leg as I sat up against the wall. My water eyes, roamed the page, finding the first sentence.

"If anyone ever finds this, you shouldn't be concerned..."