Son Of The Bat (Son of Batman Reader x Raven)

Chapter 11.0

Gotham City was a sick city, no doubt. But it could be beautiful. The city lights shined bright in the rainy night. But it came at a price. The corrupt politicians who stepped on other's throats to lift themselves up. Stealing and destroying others to add to their own fortune. And not just them, but the wacko supervillains and criminals who killed, stole, and destroyed anything and everything.

One villain in particular just irreparably destroyed a family. On a rooftop in Crime Alley. The rain had accumulated so there was water rising just above the gravel on the ground. And in the water were knocked out criminals, and blood, sweat, and tears.

A scream echoed through the night. A scream of pure pain and agony and rage. Deathstroke just drove a sword through Selina Kyle's heart. Bruce Wayne, Batman was kneeling over the body of Catwoman, Selina Kyle, his wife.

The light had left her eyes. They were cold and distant. He still held her, but her body was limp, laying on the ground in a mess of limbs. Batman lifted his head up, looking at the armored man standing near the edge of the roof, his two white eyes glowing in the night. He drew in shaky breaths through his gritted teeth.

Before Bruce could even try to fight with a dislocated hip, which he'd reset, Deathstroke just leaned backwards, falling off the roof. As much as some would have wished he fell to his death, it would never be so easy. Slade's feet slammed into the roof of a van, making a crater as he walked off the hood.

The batmobile drove into the batcave. Batman stepped out, with no emotion apparant on the part of his face that was shown behind his mask. Alfred walked up to Bruce, and they shared a few words in low voices. And then Bruce kept walking. "Dad…"

Y/n Wayne stood there, looking at his father. His hair was tousled. His face was red, and scrunched up. Tears streamed down his face. His eyes were puffy and red. Those eyes were full of fear and despair. They were bloodshot and wide. He was in shock, words caught in his throat, but he still croaked to his father with a struggle.

Bruce didn't even look at his son, he just walked past him. "So you're abandoning me again?" Y/n's words didn't even faze Bruce as he walked away.

Y/n heard a gurney roll by, and whatever was on it was covered with a blanket. Y/n stopped Alfred, grabbing the white fabric. Alfred tried to object, "Master Y/n-" But the tarp was already pulled back.

And there lay Y/n's mother. Her short hair falling over her forehead, her cold and usually bright but now dark green eyes stared into the ceiling. Y/n's face crunched with sadness and pain as he reached a shaking hand forward. He finally touched her head, her skin was already cold and pale. He brushed her hair back, and with his hand still shaking he closed her eyes.

Y/n thought to himself, 'She couldn't be dead. She was too strong. After all those years, she stayed strong for me. She-it's not her time. She still had a life to live. She couldn't-she couldn't be gone, right? Right? But it's her, right?'

Y/n stepped back as the realization set in. He'd known grief. His brother had died, his sister, his whole family had been hurt. But he never truly understood the deaths at his young age. And the other times, he knew he would see them again. But this, he was old enough to know his mother had been murdered. And she was never coming back. "Master Y/n…"

Alfred was doing his best to stay strong for the boy. But Y/n eyes were fixed on his mother. And he did what he does best in the face of sadness, he ran.

Y/n shut the door to his room behind him. He was sobbing, and so weak he stumbled to his desk. He shakily picked up a picture of him and his mother. His tears fell, becoming drops on the glass picture frame. He turned, doing his best to see her face through his blurry eyes.