After classes today I had a lot of free time. And with nothing better to do, I decided to finish a story I've slowly been working on in the sidelines. This story took me about a month and a half or so to complete. And boy is it a good one. It'll keep you on the edge of your seat.

Disclaimer: It would be awesome if I owned Young Justice, but I don't.

*Tissues my need to be a necessity.

A few other notes: When writing this I listened to a few pieces of music to set the mind in the right mood for suspense.

*My favorite music for this work was: The Dark Knight Rises Soundtrack- Ending Credits. watch?v=VbIdnMgfb-4. This music sounds AMAZING on a stereo system or cranked up on your computer or whatever device you use now. When I first heard it it sent shivers down my spine. I absolutely adore Hans Zimmer's music. This is not his work, but I have no doubt he could have made something just as awesome, if not better. This music was inspired by his soundtrack of the The Dark Knight Rises.

*The second piece of music was: Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (The Original Score) - Matrix of Leadership. watch?v=kO2JHPuqXzM. I just love the Transformers Soundtrack. Steve Jablonski is like Hans Zimmer's Padawan.

Summary:There is havoc at Wayne Enterprises. Who are these men and what do they want with our favorite Dynamic Duo? I just have one question: How far would you go to protect those you love? WARNING: Content may not be suitable for some viewers. Rated T for blood, man-handling, and suspense.*Possible character death.* This is a very long one-shot.


For those you love
By: Fanficer21


Dick Grayson sat on his adoptive-father's (Bruce Wayne's) desk on the 25th floor at Wayne Enterprises (not sure which floor he is really on, but it adds climax to the story). One leg swinging like a small child's as he watched GLN (Gotham's Local News) keeping his eyes open for any robberies or villains once again breaking out of Arkham Asylum. His left foot kept hitting the desk. Meanwhile, Bruce sat behind the desk filling out paperwork for his company.

"Dick." Bruce mumbled without looking up from his work.

Bruce brought him to work today because he hurt his ankle on patrol last night while fighting a group of thugs who tried to rob a small bank on the other side of town. Robin had kicked one of the thugs in the chest, but said thug grabbed his ankle and roughly jerked him away causing the his joint to pop. He could still walk on it, but it gave him a slight limp*.

"Dick!" He said a little louder.

Dick was glad he didn't go to school today. The Principal always asked questions when he bore bruises or other injuries from the previous nights escapades against Gotham's criminals. He hated it when people thought that Bruce was abusing him.

"Richard!" Bruce finally shouted to gain the boy's attention. This time looking at the back of his son's head. Said boy's head swung from the TV to look at Bruce like a deer in the headlights.

"I can't concentrate with you hitting your foot on my desk." He replied. putting his pen down and ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling deeply.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Dick pursed his lips as he pointed to his right foot, frustrated. Bruce didn't want Dick to do anything that would strain his ankle. like going on patrol, much to the younger's dismay. or running. At least until he healed nicely. Bruce's
hands left his hair and put one on his son's shoulder giving it a light squeeze. He was glad Dick came out of the fight with only a few bruises and a twisted ankle. Though he still hated to see him get hurt. He considered Dick his son shortly after adopting him. Especially after becoming the Dynamic Duo when Batman's paternal instincts kicked into overdrive making him super protective of his little bird.

"Why don't you go to the cafeteria and get us some lunch. All this paperwork is making me hungry." Bruce smiled after hearing Dick's stomach growl. It was already after noon. They hadn't eaten anything since Alfred's scrumptious breakfast bright and early that morning. Plus Dick was happy for the distraction from his boredom.

"Want anything specific? or..."

"Surprise me." Bruce interrupted the boy with a smirk and picked his pen back up to finish filling out the papers. He watched the thirteen year old leave the room with a slight bounce in his step despite the sore ankle. Shaking his head with a small smile on his face the secret vigilante went back to the dreaded papers he tried to avoid like the plague.


15 minutes had passed since Dick first left to get lunch. Alfred was going scold them for eating lunch so late as he was adamant that his young masters keep up their strength with strict meal times. Bruce was torn from his musings as the building's security alarms went off. Red lights were flashing through the hallway. He heard people running and shouting through the ajar door. His first thought went to his son. Quickly pulling out his cell phone he dialed Dick's number and listened to the other line ringing. It felt like minutes passed by.

"Bruce! What's going on?" Dick's voice was frantic and he could hear people screaming on the other end.

"Richard! Are you still in the cafeteria?" Bruce asked. His heart beating pounding in his chest.

~Dick's POV~

"Richard! Are you still in the cafeteria?" Dick heard his father's scared voice on the other line. He only called him "Richard" when he was at charity events, when giving him a lecture after a night on patrol when things didn't turn out so well, like when Robin would be get injured due to a small mistake or because of being distracted in a fight, or when Bruce was... scared.

"Yes!" was his response to Bruce. After he left the office 15 minutes ago he went straight to the lunch room from the elevator on the first floor to get them something to eat. But nothing compared to Alfred's cooking. Once there he had found Lucius Fox at one of the tables which he conversed with for a few minutes. Lucius and Dick would often debate about what new Batman equipment would be cool to make. Dick would often ask for a motorcycle hovercraft, but Bruce didn't think it was safe for his little bird.

They sat there for about 5 minutes before the alarms system suddenly sounded, making them both jump. Red flashing lights filled the room causeing other occupants to scream and run to the nearest exit. Dick was freaked out. If he was Robin he would be calm and hide in the shadows to find out what was creating this commotion and seek to stop it before things got out of hand. But he was Dick Grayson right now. He couldn't just switch to Robin mode with people around, especially here. This had never happened at Wayne Enterprises before, at least not when he was in the building. Lucius jumped up at seeing the scared boy. He walked to stand beside him and put a firm hand on his shoulder. A few seconds later Dick heard his cell phone ring. Taking it out of his pocket with shaking hands and looked to see who was calling him. Once he saw it was Bruce he answered the call to hear his frantic father.

"Lucius is here with me!" Dick cried as people came running into the room without any warning. Looks of absolute terror on their faces. Out of nowhere gun shots rang from the hallway causing more panicked screams. Lucius quickly grabbing Dick's arms, dragged him behind a dining counter and hopefully out of harms way.

"Stay with Lucius Richard! I'm on my way!" Bruce said loud enough for Lucius to hear before the line ended leaving Dick to stare at the wall. Bruce was coming here? Where the gunshots were getting closer? He attempted to get up so he could run and find his father, but a pair of strong hands grabbed him and yanked him down to Lucius's chest where they wrapped around his shoulders to keep him still. "Bruce said to stay here." Lucius said to Dick softly to calm the shaking teen.

Heavy footsteps entered the room and a deep growl quieted a screaming group of office workers and cooks now huddled in a corner of the room as five scary looking men entered the room. Four carried pistols, while the last held a shotgun. "Where is he? Where is Wayne?" the man in the front growled again in his deep voice as more gunshots were fired by the routy group. Dick jumped in Lucius' hold at the loud bangs. Suddenly a high pitched scream was heard as the man grabbed a young woman by her arm just above the elbow and yanked her up to stand beside him. A sick smile crossed his face as he looked at her before caressing her cheek with the pistol. The woman began to shake and whimpered as she looked to the others in the corner for help. A few of the other men stalked around the room until one saw a black shoe slightly sticking out from behind one of the counters.

"Well lookie what I found!" the man laughed as he reached down and grabbed Dick's sore ankle before pulling it roughly towards him. Dick squeaked and flinched when he was yanked out of Lucius's hold. A large hand grabbed him roughly by the hair and hauled the boy to his feet. Dick could only cry out at this action. The man smiled evilly as he pointed his gun at Lucius and made him stand up with his hands in the air. Dick clawed at the man's hand, but it wouldn't budge.

"This day couldn't possibly get any better! Hey boss look who it is!" He turned around to face the other men with the struggling ward of Bruce Wayne in his hold.

The said boss, grinned and threw the woman in his hold down before making his way to the the man and Dick. The woman shakily crawled back to the others huddled in the corner where they wrapped their arms around her. But their eyes were glued on Dick. The boy was trembling as the boss approached. He was grabbed from the other man's hold by the neck and then shoved against the wall. The barrel of the pistol shoved roughly against his temple. Everyone in the corner and Lucius erupted into shocked cries and shouts of rage

~Lucius's POV~

"Let the boy go!" Lucius yelled, talking several steps forward. He was stopped in his tracks when he saw the man cock the gun. Suddenly he saw Bruce peeking around the corner. A look of shock and rage on his friend's face. Lucius gave him a few quick signals unnoticed by anyone else. Bruce only nodded before turning around the corner for a second or two. When he reemerged he held his shoe and threw it towards the middle of the room. Lucius sighed in relief when the man didn't fire the gun when the shoe echoed with a thump. It succeeded in distracting the men. Lucius watched proudly as his friend charged the man and rescued the boy amid the various gunshots. When they escaped around the corner, Lucius charged at the man and grabbed the gun and fought it out of his grasp. However, while in the process of trying to rip the gun from the boss's hand, said man pulled the trigger and shot Lucius in the collarbone making him fall to the floor and grab at the wound in pain. The boss was about to shoot Lucius in the head until the cries of the hostages rang out as they charged the four men. Shots rang out, and people hit the floor, but they attacked the men with such ferocity. Said men were knocked to the floor and the guns torn from their grasps. The only one that escaped was the boss who took off after Bruce and Dick. The men were hogtied by suit ties, scarves, and aprons. The former hostages tended the wounded though they still felt the shock of the situation. Lucius just stared at the open doorway before passing
out from the pain.


~Bruce's POV~

When Bruce ended the call with Dick, he quickly called Commissioner Gordon. The ringing on the other end seemed even longer than before until he heard a familiar voice.

"Commissioner Gordon's Office" Bruce sighed with relief then quickly got the older man's attention.

"Jim, it's Bruce Wayne! We have a situation at Wayne Enterprises." He practically yelled into his cell phone.

"B-Bruce! What's going on?" the commissioner sputtered on his end.

"I don't know! But you need to get down here right away!" Bruce yelled making his way towards the door.

"Right! I'll be there as soon as possible."

"Thank you Jim!" Bruce said quickly before ending the call. He threw open his office door and quickly examined his surroundings. The alarm continued to screech and people were still in hysterics. He ran to a young man, looking at his phone, closest to his office. "Do you know what's going on?" The young man jumped when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Turning around he saw his boss, and his eyes
grew wide.

"I-I don't k-know M-Mr. Wayne!" He panicked. "I heard something about gunshots, but...".

"Just stay here and take care of the others." Bruce ordered before running towards the elevator. He punched the button and ran inside the second the doors opened. On his way down he contemplated what his strategy would be once he got to his son and Lucius. Was it wrong that he just wanted to protect his son above anyone else? He thought as he paced the floor. Five minutes later the doors opened to reveal level two. The cafeteria was on the first floor. He snuck down the stairs to the first level. He opened the stairway doors quietly and slipped through before gently shutting them again. He then walked with his back against the wall and crept towards the cries and shouts he heard erupting from the lunchroom. He was almost at his destination when he heard Lucius's voice.

"Let the boy go!" His steps faltered. This couldn't be happening. He quickened his pace and once he made it to the doorway, he peeked around the corner and his eyes widened at the sight. His son was held at gunpoint against the wall. His blood boiled and he clenched his teeth. He then noticed that Lucius saw him and was making signals for him to do something. Bruce ripped off his shoe and held it in his hand before bringing his arm back. He had to do something to draw the attention away from Dick. He threw his shoe into the room where it hit the floor with a loud thump.

"What the-" the boss shouted as he looked towards the other men. Seeing his opportunity while the men were confused, Bruce charged into the room, pushed the man away from his son and grabbed Dick's arm as he barreled out of the room as fast as he could with one stocking foot. Dick tried his best to keep up as they ran towards the stairs with his sore ankle. A third set of footsteps wasn't far behind. "Wayne!"

Once they reached the stairwell Bruce noticed the janitor's cart was left unoccupied. He grabbed a broom and quickly shoved Dick and himself through the doors. He would have to remember to give the janitor a raise. After shutting the door, he pushed the broom through the door handles and then dragged Dick up the stairs. The safest place they could go right now was up.

They heard the doors rattle as the man tried to get through. Bruce just kept pushing onward. They made it up five flights of stairs before breaking glass and wood snapping echoed throughout the stairwell. Another pair of footsteps was heard pounding up the concrete steps.

Entering the seventh floor, Bruce pushed through the doors and ran to the elevator where he kicked the button before getting into a protective stance in front of his son. The doors opened, but at the same time the man rounded the corner and looked around furiously. Dick let out a cry of surprise. How could he have run so fast. The man noticed Bruce shove the boy into the elevator. Bruce covered Dick's small body with his own as he pressed against the wall of the metal box and punched a random button going up as a few bullets flew at them as the doors began to shut. Dick cried out when he felt a sudden pain in his left leg. Bruce responded with a growl and wrapped his arms tightly around his son's shoulders, the boy's face shoved against his father's chest as the box ascended. Meanwhile, the gunman ran up the stairs as fast as he could to check every floor.


Bruce charged down the hallway on the 23rd floor weaving between several scared employees as he dragged a limping Dick. The boy's ankle was biting him, as well as his bullet wound sending waves of pain. His pant leg was soaked with blood and left a trail of red behind. Bruce yelled for said employees to return to their rooms with a wave of his arm. They didn't question their boss, so they ran into their offices. Some locked their doors, while others looked through their open doors and Dick caught of few of their glances. Bruce continued to run down the now empty hall without a single stop. Dick almost slipped several times because of the blood on his shoe. He was afraid. If he was Robin he wouldn't be afraid, he would push forward and get the job done. But that's just it. He was still Dick Grayson right now. He had the right to be afraid for his life, for his father's life. He didn't know what to do.

Suddenly the sound of people screaming filled their ears. Bruce ran into the closest office and shut the door behind them. When Bruce turned around he saw a young woman holding a baseball bat above her head. She quickly fumbled with it as she put it down.

"I'm s-sorry Mr. Wayne. I didn't know it was you!" She squeaked out. Bruce put his hand up to calm her down before hastily walking further into the office. "It's my fault. I'm sorry I scared you" He tried to sound brave, but in actuality his mind was racing. "We need a place to hide. There's a mad gunman on the loose. Don't leave this office." He hastily said as he pushed Dick under the desk in the middle of the room and hidden from view.

"N-No! Don't go!" the boy whimpered when his father began to stand up. Bruce quickly knelt back down, ignoring the frightened look on the young woman's face as angry shouts and fearful screams sounded from behind the door. He cupped Dick's cheek in his large hand while his thumb wiped away the falling tears. His hair had fallen out of its gel hold a while ago and now rested over his eyes. "I need you to stay here Dick. Can you do this for me?" Bruce whispered as he brushed the boy's hair to the side with his other hand before kissing his forehead when his son slowly nodded.

Bruce gave his boy a proud smile before getting up and tried to help the young woman hide. However, she was too scared to move and she shrieked when the door burst open revealing the man with the gun. Said man pistol whipped her in the temple making her fall to the ground with a now large cut against her light skin. Bruce jumped at the man and wrestled to pull the gun from his hands. Bruce almost succeeded until a hard knee kick to his stomached knocked the breath out of him. Pointing the gun at Bruce, the man fired causing Bruce to yelp as he clutched his left shoulder hissing in pain.

Dick jumped at the sound of his father's cry. Dismissing his command to stay under the desk, Dick scrambled to his feet and jumped at the man who was still focused on Bruce. He was pissed that this man was trying to kill his father. Based on the number of shots that were fired from his gun that should have been the last one. Said man screamed when he felt pressure on his leg followed by a sharp bite. Throwing the gun aside he grabbed the boy by the hair and yanked him up roughly eliciting a scream from the boy. Bruce's blood boiled at the sight. A rough hand wrapped around Dick's neck for a second time that day, but this time was more painful. Another hand covered his mouth.

"It's payback Wayne!" The man growled. His eyes on Bruce who stood in a defensive stance with pleading eyes. "Let him go!"

"NO! After what you did to me, you deserve to suffer!" He yelled making Dick jump. An involuntary squeak left his covered mouth.

"W-What did I do?" Bruce was shocked. He didn't know this man, yet said man held a grudge against him. He tried to remain calm so as to not let his son panic. Though he couldn't help but panic himself when the man brought his face down beside the boy. Dick gagged at the hot, stale breath that touched his right cheek. Squirming in the man's hold only caused the grip on his neck to tighten. Dick's vision was beginning to blacken around the edges.

"Stop!" Bruce yelled as he took a large step forward. His hand still on his wound. A look of fear covering his features.

"Hold it right there Wayne!" The man growled again. This time he forced the boys head up with the hand that covered his mouth. Bright blue eyes filled with tears met his cruel gaze. The man then forced his head back down with a jerk so he was looking at his father again.

"You fired me! Me and several others who were taking up space in your precious building" the man seethed through his teeth. "My wife left me! She took the kids with her! Everything precious to me is GONE!" he screamed. Then a dark smirk appeared on his lips. He brought his face back down to Dick's ear, but his eyes remained on Bruce as he breathed, "So I'm going to take what's precious to you!". That last comment made the dynamic duo's eyes widen. Bruce's mind was racing as he looked at his son's frightened eyes.

"Stop this p-please! We can work something out." Bruce pleaded with the man while sliding his feet forward. His response from the man was a deep growl. He tightened his grip on the boy's neck even more who had already started to wheeze. Dick's hands were beginning to lose their grip on the man's hands as his eyes slowly closed making the man smile. He suddenly released his grip on Dick's neck and mouth causing the boy to gasp for precious air like a fish out of water, a distinct wheeze followed each breath. His eyes remained closed. Tears appeared in Bruce's eyes as he watched his son fight for his life.

"Work something out? Work Something Out?! WHAT IS THERE TO WORK OUT! I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO LIVE FOR!" The man bellowed as he wrapped his arms around the gasping boy's waist, Dick's arms hung limply as his slowly walked backwards towards the floor to ceiling windows 23 stories above the ground. Putting two and two together, Bruce realized what this man was about to do. About to do to his son!

"NO!" He cried out as he took a quick step before running towards the two, arm extended to try and stop him. With a dark smirk, the man charged at the window. The sound of shattering glass filled the room and echoed in the hallway. Dick, still disoriented from lack of oxygen, felt weird. Like Whily Coyote, when he stood in the air for a few seconds before falling.

"Richard!" Bruce leaped the remaining distance and ignoring the shards of glass littering the floor he grabbed Dick's outstretched wrist. His body hit the floor and he used as much of his upper body strength as he could to keep him from slipping while also keeping a hold on his son's wrist with both hands. He could hear the police sirens at the base of the building. Their lights flickered below. He was relieved by the wonderful sound. Help was on it's way.

However, he was broken from his thoughts when he cried out as his wound seared with pain from the weight of holding Dick and the man. Said man kept a firm grip on Dick's waist as he swung back and forth eliciting a cry from the boy whose hand began to slip in his father's grasp.

"B-Bruce!" Dick managed to squeak out. Tears once again falling trailing down his pale cheeks "T-Tati"

"Hang on Richard! I've got you!" Bruce cried out in pain as the swinging tugged on his wound again. He didn't know how long he could last with his arm losing strength. All noise around him faded while the blood rushed to his head as he strained to keep his world from falling. He was shocked when he felt several hands grab hold of his ankles, waist, and shoulders. When a few sets of hands entered his sight he saw that they belonged to the police. Said hands kept him steady as they prepared to reach down to grab the boy's hand.

The man hanging onto Dick had other plans, however. Seeing the cops arrive he quickly swung until his feet touched the wall of glass beside him. Once his feet touched the glass he launched backwards. The sudden tug made Bruce cry out again, tears formed in the corners of his eyes. But his grip remained firm making the pair swing back towards the glass at a rapid pace. Bruce heard more than saw the cracking glass, suddenly Dick's body went limp causing a wave of panic to pass through him.

"Richard! Richard!" He shook his hands to trying in vain to get his son to wake up. Dick's head rested against his chest with a trail of blood running along the side of his face and mixed with his tears. The added weight of Dick's unconscious body was taking its toll on Bruce, making his grip unwillingly slacken. The small hand was sliding from his grasp when some of Bruce's blood trailed down his arm, seeping its way between the hands. Bruce attempted to tighten his grip, but his wounded arm caused his grip to weaken. Tears sprang to his eyes when he only held Dick by bloody fingers. One police officer laid down beside Bruce and reached for Dick's hand.

"Richard! P-Please..." He cried while holding the small fingertips with all his might. His tears fell into ebony hair. The man below laughed maniacally before giving one last yank to the boy's body. The small fingertips left Bruce's hold as he watched his reason to live fall down the 23 stories. He was speechless. He couldn't move. He could only look towards the ground before releasing a heart-wrenching wail.

The police and some employees gently helped Bruce to his feet and away from the window. The man looked so broken, shocking the officers as they helped him towards the door. Two more officers were helping the young woman up from the floor. The second they exited the room, Bruce took off down the hall and towards the elevators with the police close behind.

"Mr. Wayne sto..." the elevator doors quieted their shouts. He paced a few times before he fell to the floor where he curled up in the corner and cried. He was glad no one used the elevator while he wept for his son. When the fifth floor sounded, Bruce slowly stood up. He charged from the small room the second the doors opened on level one and ran towards the main entrance. The alarm had been shut off a while ago, he hadn't noticed until now. The sight of police lights blinking caught his attention as he burst through the entrance.

The first thing he noticed was all the people surrounding the area. Camera flashes of passersby and even newscasters filled the scene. Cries sounded throughout the crowd as their attention was focused behind a police car. Ignoring the camera flashes in his face, and the questions by reporters, Bruce made his way to the car, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what the crowd was looking at. The top of the car was dented. A pool of blood surround the man's body where he lay. Commissioner Gordon sat beside the car as he wept. In his arms was a small body.

'No!' Bruce thought falling to his knees beside his old friend as he looked upon the still body of his beloved son. His right leg was at an odd angle. His head hung against the Commissioner's arm as he held him close. Blood was dripping from the back of his head and left a puddle of red that the man sat in.

When James Gordon looked up to see his friend's broken face. Said man whispered mournfully "I so sorry Bruce." He lifted the boy so that his father could take him. Bruce's hands trembled as he reached for his son. More tears fell as he clutched his lifeless son to his chest. His head rested upon the boy's, smearing blood against his cheek. His sobs and wails quieted the crying crowd as he mourned his son's death. How could he go on living? What was left for him to hold onto in this life? These thoughts flowed through his mind as he squeezed his eyes shut and gave into the darkness.


Bruce's eyes flew open and he bolted upright in bed. Sweat covered his body making his pajamas cling to his form. He gasped for breath as he clutched the fabric above his heart. Tears made their way down his face, leaving small trails behind that reflected in the moonlight shining brightly through the window. The alarm clock beside the bed read 2:59 in the morning with it's bright red letters.

It had all just been a dream...hadn't it? He immediately tore his blankets off and ran to the door as soon as his feet touched the floor. Ripping it open, he ran down the hall not even caring if he woke Alfred up in the process. He had to make sure his son was alright. When he made it to his son's door he took a deep breath and hesitantly grabbed the doorknob before opening it.

Peeking inside he noticed a small lump in the middle of the bed wrapped in blankets like a cocoon and highlighted by the moonlight seeping in from the large windows. Bruce let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He quietly walked to the bed and sat on the edge, before gently nudging the bundle. It moved around a bit, but then settled back down. With a small smile Bruce carefully pulled the blankets away to reveal Richard Grayson. His partner in crime fighting. His son. Richard's face was peaceful as he slept, a rarity. Most of his nights were plagued by the nightmare of witnessing his parents' death.

Bruce silently brushed the hair out his son's eyes before running his hand through the ebony strands. He bent down and kissed the boy's forhead. Tears formed in his eyes again at the thought of his nightmare. It felt so real. He had seen his son fall. He held his broken body in his arms. His heart just about stopped at the thought of losing this precious child. His whole world had crashed down around him.

Gently gathering the boy into his arms, Bruce rested his head upon the ebony hair as Richard's head rested in the crook of his neck. He rocked from side to side in a soothing motion, more so to calm himself. One arm wound around his son's waist, while the other rested against his head where he placed a few gentle kisses into the boy's hair. Tears falling into the ebony locks. Bruce was suddenly broken from his reverie when he felt a slight shift in his arms.

"B-Bruce...?" The voice was soft and laced with sleep. He looked down to meet half-lidded blues looking back.

"Shhh...go back to sleep, son. Everything is alright now." Bruce whispered and he ran his fingers through Richard's hair before leaning down to place another gentle kiss on his forehead.

"m'kay" The ebony mumbled before succumbing to slumber once again. His head lulled back against his father's arm exposing his neck. The man choking his son returned to his thoughts before he slowly traced the non-existent bruises on the boy's neck. He rested his cheek against his son's forehead as he softly hummed in the darkness. Gently laying down on the mattress while keeping the sleeping boy safe in his arms, Bruce drifted off to sleep as he listened to the sound of his son's calm and steady breathing. His last thought before darkness took over: 'It was only a dream'.

A pair of old eyes in the doorway watched as his two boys slept soundly. Entering the room like a bat, he made no noise as he gently tucked them both in before placing a soft kiss on both foreheads. Closing the door behind him, Alfred made his way back to bed but this time he too would sleep soundly knowing that both his 'son' and 'grandson' were safe at home.


Are you in tears yet? Here's a tissue. This story took a mind all its own. It refused to let me add anything that would make it less suspenseful.

No flames please!