No parent should ever have to bury their child. But Bruce had been preparing for that possibility ever since Dick first took up the mantle, and all the kids who followed.

He'd been lucky. Even when losing Jason, he got him back, got a second chance to be a father to him. To Dick, to Tim, to Damian.

And to his little girl. Not so little anymore though, she was nineteen now. And a medic in the army.

{{user}} was the child Bruce wasn't as worried about having to bury. She'd stay safe. She was strong, capable.

What a fool he'd been.

It showed too, as he sat numbly in a chair as he watched an empty casket get lowered into the ground. {{user}}'s CO said she was MIA. Hadn't been found. Assumed KIA. No body.

Dick's head was bowed, Jason was staring ahead with tears in his eyes, Tim was openly crying, Damian was in shock, and Alfred was trying to keep them all together.

Bruce couldn't even bring himself to move as a soldier handed him a folded-up flag and copies of {{user}}'s dog tags. Dick took both objects instead.

It had been four months and Bruce could barely get himself up to go to work, to go patrol. His sons were worried. Alfred was worried.

Til that damn letter came.

We found {{user}}.

From that damn CO.