The gun fired and Bruce's heart nearly stopped.
The sun was shining, people wandered to and from. Bruce and his boys had just spent hours participating in a 'family' charity event.
Today there was no armour, no masks and no Batman. The world switched to slow motion as the gun was drawn and fired at the youngest of his boys. He couldn't move fast enough, he couldn't save his son. "DAMIAN" the world speed up again as he caught the boy in his arms. There was blood everywhere, pouring too slowly from his chest. "God please no. Damian wake up."
But there was no waking up; the bullet had ripped straight through his heart. The world became silent.
All the people's screams ceased to be heard. The panicked cries of his eldest son didn't reach his ears. He didn’t see the grim expression of his second oldest or how he was shielding the third one so he couldn’t see the fallen bird. All the movement around him was no longer existent. The boy curled into a ball, shacking violently, crying for his brother, was not seen by his father. The cry of horror from his third was not heard and neither were the hushed whispers from the second, trying to comfort his brothers.
In that moment Damian Wayne and his crimson red blood took over his whole world.