Batfam Shorts

Alfred's Death

Damian awoke with a ringing in his ears.

He kept his eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed over him.

He was hurt and so incredibly sore. Damian could feel half his mask missing. He wondered what had happened, before the force of his memories hit him hard.

Flashes of Drake, Gotham Girl, Victor Zsasz. Scarecrow, and the pretender filled his mind.

He had lost. Worse, he had failed.

The older, pretend Batman (Damian refused to acknowledge his real name or any technical blood relation they may share) had beaten him like it was nothing.

That was probably the reason he was aching all over.

Damian was so sure, so confident that he could beat him. He had taken down Gotham girl, after all. He had oustmarted her and she was an ammateuer. It hadn't taken much of an effort.

Damian had assumed that pretend Batman would be the same. Perhaps a tad bit more difficult, but he was confident in his ability to outmatch him. Damian wholeheartedly thought he could take him. He had been winning too, until he wasn't.

Of course, the older man did not share his son's fighting techniques. He wasn't fair and he had no issues not holding back.

That had been what had caught Damian so off guard. He had begrudgingly been expecting his father's moves. That was his reason for assuming he was ready.

Yes, he may not have been as good as his father, but he wasn't exactly incapable of holding his own against Bruce if a physical fight broke out.

The pretender was on a whole different level entirely, and Damian was outmatched. He was not prepared to face him. Nor was he expecting that extreme level of violence and brutality from a man in a Bat costume.

He had been too cocky and too arrogant.

Damian needed to get out of whatever hell he was in. He was unable to move his body and he suspected it was likely due to all the damage and pain "evil" Batman had inflicted upon him.

His eyes were still closed and for the life of him, the ringing in his ears got louder and. Would. Not. Stop!

It didn't help in the slightest that there were voices gradually increasing in their volume to an unbearable level. Damian's ears were throbbing.

Damian quickly realized that he was wasting time and that it was taking too long to pull himself together. He shook away the fatigue, but his eyes remained shut, as to not give away his consciousness to his captors.

Part of his training was to ignore all pain in favour of getting himself out of these sticky situations. Damian kept that in mind, and told himself that he was fine. No real damage had been done.

He than became more aware of his surroundings. Damian was tied to a chair. The knots were extremely tight and expertly well done. It would take quite a while to untie himself, plus an additional hand injury, but Damian was determined. He wasn't taught to quit.

What stopped him dead in his tracks however, were the voices.

He knew those voices, but his mind was having trouble comprehending what was happening.

It sounded like... no.

One of the voices was pleading.

It was the voice he was more familiar with.

"Master...please...no..." pleaded Alfred.

Damian finally opened his eyes.

"Please understand. This is not my choice. You are my grandson. My blood. You made a mistake."

Dread filled Damian. What was happening?

"Please, please, please, listen... just... not here..."

Alfred was sitting in front of him. In a chair similar to his own. Bane was right behind him, just as Damian felt the pretender behind him as well.

"I would prefer to give you another chance. Send you off with a good beating and a solid lesson. However..."

It was happening. Damian could feel the weight of his actions and the consequences that would inevitably take place.

But it wasn't going to happen right? Thomas, his supposed "grandfather" wouldn't allow this to happen, right? Alfred would be alright, right?

Damian could feel his heart racing inhumanly fast. Alfred would be fine. He had to be fine.

Unfortunately, Damian knew better. He was raised to know better. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he knew what was coming, and with his heart racing, and his ears ringing with Alfred's cries, he shouted.

"NO!"

Alfred was staring right at him. Damian didn't want to look but he couldn't stop either. He studied Alfred's face and the scared look he saw frightened him to his core more than anything ever could.

"Not in front of the boy" He heard Alfred beg.

"But this is not my city. This is not the city of Batman. No, Damian... this is the city of Bane" Thomas told him.

Damian heard the crack before he could process it. It was so loud. So sickening.

Alfred's body went limp. He didn't move.

Tears clouded Damian's vision and they wouldn't stop falling.

"How...how...no..." Damian pathetically sputtered, still not believing what had happened.

Alfred couldn't be dead. He couldn't be! But... he wasn't moving either...

Damian couldn't think straight. Couldn't speak properly. Too many unfamiliar emotions began to take over. He didn't know what to do. What could he do?

This could not be happening!

His heart began to beat faster.

"I know, I know. I see what you're thinking. Now that he's gone, the rest of the family will come." Thomas placed an arm around Damian's shoulder.

"No..." Damian replied weakly.

Would the others come? They loved Alfred, but...

"But..." Thomas continued. "You are forgetting we have a new hostage now. We have YOU.

Damian looked down. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to be here. He was still in denial.

"Perhaps it's good." Thomas said, His arm around Damian tightening painfully. "Perhaps NOW they'll listen. Perhaps they won't be as childish... as you were."

He was right. Damian knew he was right. He had been childish and foolish.

...So incredibly foolish...

Damian slumped down, defeated. Not being able to look at Bane.

At the monster that had taken over his home. At the criminal that had broken his father.

At the murderer that had killed his Alfred.

Hot rage filled Damian's core. His hands balled into fists against the binds.

How DARE they.

How DARE those two ruin everything. How DARE those two make those decisions that impacted not only Damian's life, but everyone in Gotham!

Gritting his teeth, and tears streaming down his face, Damian looked up at the nightmare that was facing him, with so much unconcealed anger, and he spit in his face.