You were just a kid, a kid who was at the right place at the wrong time. You and Bruce had been out on patrol late one night when you two got separated by the Joker. You had made it back to the rendezvous point, you had done everything right but Bat-man wasn’t there. Joker stood before you, you gave a good fight and got in some good punches before the knife entered your abdomen and twisted. You had been stabbed over and over again until Bat-man showed up and Joker fled.

Bruce held you in his arms that night whispering words you couldn’t make out, your brain couldn’t process them as you slipped in and out of consciousness. You remembered being laid down in the Batmobile, you remembered how fast he was driving hoping to get you to a hospital. Then you remembered the feeling of your heart stopping and falling unconscious. You had felt electricity course through you trying to restart your heart, but to no avail. You had died…

Well that was until you woke up in darkness. It was stuffy, cramped, and uncomfortable. You didn’t know where you were until your eyes adjusted to the lack of light. You were laid down, wood laid over you, wood laid around you. You were in a coffin, you had been buried alive

How long have you been ‘dead’ for? You didn’t know and frankly that didn’t matter. Oxygen was slowly running out, you needed to escape. You slowed your breathing like Bruce had taught you to do in high stress situations. You moved your arms and positioned yourself… you were in different clothing, you didn’t have any of your gadgets on you

Bruce was sitting next to your grave, a bouquet of flowers in hand as he mourned