His Silent Scream

Forgiven

   The icy moon of frost mourns him. The Heaven's weep as rain falls in waves on the stone-cold ground. The Sun's radiant light has diminished. My life is gray. I taught each of them, Dick, Jason, Tim.....and.....Damian....that there is good and evil in the world. The line that separates these forces are as clear as night and day. The scum of the Earth eventually get brought to justice, the innocent avenged, and the heroes prevail by any means. We were all prepared to sacrifice anything and everything and deal with the consequences. I was prepared for the consequences. Even when wounded, or when death came knocking at my front door waiting for me to slip into a never-ending sleep and fall into its clutches, I would soldier on. I am a Hero. I am Batman. 

I need to go back. I need to stop the clock. I need to breathe. I need my son.

  Tic. Good and evil are two sides of the same coin. Toc. I crossed the line. I was not prepared to sacrifice everything. I was not ready to lose him. I had a code. I had morals. I had a purpose. Tic. I was a hero. Toc. No! I was never a hero! I was a monster. In my crusade to rid the world of evil, I became the villain. I hurt the ones close to me. I shattered the ones who dare cross me. I gave up on the ones who needed me! Tic. I let him fall. The sun no longer smiles down brightly. Instead, he weeps tears of anguish. The moon no longer comes to light the way for the lost, for he is now lost. The harsh wind no longer blows at the mourning tree, for the wind has no aggression towards it any longer just regret. Toc. The sun, the moon, and the wind are numb and more broken than ever. Dick, Jason, and Tim.... can no longer fly. Instead they sit. Trapped in the confines of their own dependencies. Like phoenixes bound by water. The mourning tree, the lonely Cyprus tree, no longer stands tall. It has long since withered and decayed. Tic. Because... Toc. .....Because..... Tic. ....because of of....me. Toc. 

Tic. These thoughts...this reality haunted Batman. For deep down, he was no invincible soldier. His pain was no illusion that could be covered by a facade. No matter how many times life's bullet ricocheted and missed him, he could not dodge it forever. Hanging on to the security of his mask by his fingertips Life pointed the gun and fired the forsaken bullet. Toc. The Batman slipped into Life's wicked hands. This game he was playing was over from the beginning. The winner had been decided before the first move. Life would win because, Batman,  for all that he is worth, was and is only human. Tic. Under the cowl, he was Bruce Wayne. A man of great sorrow, regret, and sin. A mere mortal doomed by his own inner demons. Damian's voice was omnipresent in his mind. The sound of Damian pleading and begging for Batman, no, Bruce, to hear his cries could be heard echoing in the depths of Bruce's mind.  Toc.

"Enough!" "Stop this already. I know you are angry! I know you are hurting. I told you to bring justice not vengeance when I could not! I am....." Just then Bruce heard the clock. The blasted insidious grandfather clock ticking. Mocking him. Laughing at him because it knew that  Bruce nor Batman could reverse the clock. "AGHHHHHH!!!!" At that moment, Bruce smashed the clock until it was unrecognizable. With the entrance to the Batcave now visible to the naked eye, Bruce cursed himself for his foolishness. 

Just then he heard the footsteps of an all too familiar figure. There behind him stood Alfred. A look of concern and sadness plastered on his face. "Master Bruce, may I-" He was cut off by Bruce. "Do what you want." he said curtly and walked into the Batcave. He was about to go on yet another nightly escapade but was stopped by the Sun, the Moon, and the wind.  How he wished the mourning tree, the only cypress tree, Damian was standing beside them.

"Bruce..." Dick said. "Y-you can not go on like this. We can not go on like this. You, me, Jason, Tim.... we are all to blame. This is not just your burden to carry. We are al-" "You what? You are responsible for Damian's, my son's death? Do you want to help me? Because if you do you can help by never speaking his name again! He is gone. There is no point in talking about and pitying the dead. Instead, I will do what Damian wanted and avenge him! " Bruce bellowed.  He then began to walk towards the Batsuit when he felt a harsh pain on the side of his face. Red sticky liquid began to trickle down his temple. Blood. He looked up and was met with Jason's face. A face full of furry. "Damn it, Bruce!! You think that is what Damian would want? To be avenged? Fuck no!! He wanted a father! Stop being selfish and just give that to him! You have not seen him since the funeral and now all you do sit in here and sulk. Your a-" " Jason! Enough." Jason's rant was cut off by Tim. " Bruce, Damian was...Damian...he....he was my brother. We barely got along. I fought him and loathed him every bitter moment I was with him. Now that he is gone I realized that I missed the chance to tell him that I loved him unconditionally even if he acted like a brat at times. Do you think I don't regret not being able to tell him the things I left unsaid?"