Damian feels himself freeze as the sound of a loud gunshot rings out across the rooftop. The cool Gotham air was suddenly thick and hard to breathe, the traffic below seemed to blur together to his ears, and his stomach dropped with an unshakable sense of dread.

He'd been off his game, not paying enough attention to the group of goons the two of you were fighting. They had a logo he'd never seen before on their right shoulders and they were trained better than any thugs he'd ever fought before. He was positive the two of you had disarmed all of them. He could've sworn.

Damian spins around to see the last of the goons knocked out on the floor, a gun clattering out of his hand at soon as he hits the ground with a thud. Then he watches as you follow, stumbling forward a few steps first. His expression drops and he's quickly at your side, his gaze flicks to dark crimson blood seeping through the clothing around your torso. He can't believe you. He can't believe you just took a bullet for him of all people. How dare you do the whole heroic self-sacrifice thing? Damian couldn't do this again- he refused to do this again. He couldn't lose you. Damian can't help the stinging in his eyes, the whole scenario was too familiar and overwhelming, and he was suddenly realizing he's only fourteen. Not some experienced doctor or surgeon.

"No, no, no- you imbecile."

Damian's tone sounds panicked and strained.

"Why would you do that?"