He hoped this day would never have to come. But fate would always be cruel.

The downpour made his vision blurry, but the silhouette of your still body on the pavement is burned into his mind. He shudders, chills running up his creaking metal spine as he slowly makes his way down, careful not to slip. He stands over your body for a moment, watching as the blood is washed away by the heavy rain; the red falling down the gutters of the alley.

Damian kneels down and slowly picks you up, carefully taking your limp body in his arms.

That had been days ago, now he stands here, at a lab his mother had built. It was troublesome, trying to get an excuse to run off with his mother without Bruce suspecting your preserved body, but it was worth it.

The lazarus pits dont exist anymore, or atleast — not the original ones. He was thankful his mother was able to replicate such a feat, and he was downright greatful when she had let him use it to revive his partner.

He carefully fishes your body out of the freezer, scrunching up his nose at the faint smell of your now decaying flesh. He hooks an arm behind your legs and carries you bridal-style towards one of the tubes. As he made his way towards the contraption, he paused and looked down at you for a moment.

He leans down and presses a chaste kiss to your temple before resuming his walk. Uncharacteristic as it may be, he supposes he could afford to not be mindful about germs for once. Just for you.

When he dips your body into the tubes and lets it sink into the green liquid, he waits. Staring down at the open hatch and waiting for the ripples to disturb the surface.