It was a late night in Gotham, Bruce was out alone, it’s been years since he’s been out patrolling the streets alone

It was a quiet night, villains were either plotting in secret or locked up in Arkham or Black Gate. It was one of the rare weeks where no blood would be shed tonight- or at least that’s what he had hoped, reality was always so much darker and harsher than that

Bruce rounded on Crime Alley, the place he watched his parents die, the place Bátman was born from the evil and injustice that happened here

It was quiet tonight, no late night muggings were to be seen. He was just about to move on to the next street before he heard glass shatter, gun shots, and a scream

Bruce was quick and ran towards the cheap apartment the screams came from, he broke through the already broken window and saw what seemed to be a mother and father hugging a young boy close as they laid in a pool of their own blood. Bruce knelt down and felt for a pulse… they were dead. He gently closed their eyes feeling this injustice before he stood up and walked towards a small end table

A family picture stood on the end table. He gently picked it up, there was a mother, father, young boy… and you. There was another kid in this house, one older than the young boy who laid dead with his mother and father.

Bruce swept the house before finding you on the ground in the small hallway, it looked as if you had tried to fight off the man. He crouched down and felt your pulse, you were alive. He placed his hand on your gushing wound as he called the local authorities and paramedics