"It was necessar--" Batman started.

"He was your son!" Nightwing screamed.

All noise cease, and a silence as heavy as death settled on everyone's shoulders. Nightwing tightened the grip on his brother's arms, pulling him closer. It was as if in some way he hoped he could shield Robin from the truth of their father's actions. Despite his best efforts, the crimson color that stained the gray of Batman's suit, splattered over his newly placed metal Bat-Symbol, and finally stopped at his lip, demanded Tim's attention, letting Tim stare at it in wide-eyed horror. It glistened in the daylight, making Dick's stomach churn. "You killed your son," he said.

"It was necessary," Batman snapped, his voice just a little bit more vacant of emotion than usual. A hushed murmuring swept through the crowed. Batman's face was set, his back straight and confident, but there was a slight tightening of his arm around the red helmet that had once belonged to the now-deceased boy in front of him. When Batman went and licked his dry lips to moisten them, Dick could see the slight cringe on his mentor's face when he tasted blood. Blood that was not his own.

"You're a monster," Dick said before he had registered what was coming off his lips. "A monster!" Batman was denying the guilt that was flushed through his system. All those small hints; the shift of Batman's foot, longer and deeper breaths than usual, the slight twitch in Batman's face that showed he was looking back and forth between the dead body in from of him and his partners in crime; those signs, Dick was trained to find them. Dick knew Batman was doubting his actions, and the fact that Batman was trying to reason with himself only made Dick's anger grow.

A small, shaky voice from Dick's arms said, "Jason?" and for once, Dick couldn't blame his brother for being slow. They were trained for almost any situation. Alien invasions. Parallel dimensions. Heck, even a zombie apocalypse. This? This was a shock. They had no training. They had no plan, no back-up plan, not even a back-up plan for the back-up plan. There was nothing Tim could calculate, nothing he could ponder over. There was no research to find that could give him the answer.

For once, Tim was unprepared.

He was heartbroken, too. Dick knew Tim looked up to Jason, always admiring him from a distance. No matter how much Jason loathed the family, Tim has always managed to find a way to view him as an older brother.

Truthfully, if Dick hadn't been prepared for another loss since the day of Jason's original death, he would have been just like Tim. Tim kept saying Jason's name, repeating it over and over, annunciating every syllable, as if Jason would rise and answer him with the sadistic remark of "Replacement." Tim acted as if he would rather have Jason resent him than see him like this: mouth just a slight open, bullet wound pouring blood on the concrete floor in front of the Hall of Justice, eyes blankly staring at the crowed who had come to see the execution.

If Dick had a choice, he would have preferred that, too.

Dick wasn't sure how long it took for Tim to calm down, but he did. He stared at Jason's dead body, face blank. Emotionless. By that time, Superman had stepped in front of Batman, as if to shield him from his own sons.

"Why?" Tim asked.

Batman seemed to growl. "It was necess--"

"No." Tim's words came out harsh. The emotion in his voice was unsettling with the glossy, calm look in his eyes. "I want the real reason. Why?"

Batman only continued an attempt with the same answer. "It was ne-" This time, It was cut off by a sharp look from Superman. His new, less colorful outfit still bore the symbol of hope. Dick found it slightly ironic. From where he was standing, there seemed to be no hope at all, just a dry desert of hate and betrayal.

"There used to be a rumor," Tim said, "that Batman would do anything for his family. They used to say, 'Don't mess with that clan. Batman'll kill you for it.' " Dick, along with many others, stared at Tim. His face was still void, but Dick could see tears leaking out from under his mask. He could feel Tim's body shaking and quivering, but that didn't stop Tim's voice from coming out loud and clear. "I guess that rumor was wrong."

Here, a sob escaped from his mouth. His shoulders sagged. Dick could only offer his hug as comfort, absolutely lost with what to say. Tim managed between gasps, "Are you going to kill Selena, too?"

Batman's eyes widened; Dick could see it behind his lenses. Batman started saying Robin's name, but a harsh pull from Wonder Woman made him stop. Superman ordered him inside, and Nightwing was wondering why he would do this to the family. Why was Bruce letting it fall apart again? The patches weren't even completely sewn on and he was ripping them off again. Why was Bruce letting himself leave them?

"Bruce--" Dick started. He stopped. Bruce looked back at him, eyes pleading, like he wanted Nightwing to stop him, But there was nothing he could do now. There was nothing to say that could convince Bruce otherwise. This wasn't his Bruce. His father. Bruce would never let others order him around. He would never stay quiet when he felt as if someone should speak up. Nightwing stayed quiet, and Bruce went inside the Hall of Justice.

"Catwoman," And the hatred that Superman said her aliases with made Nightwing shiver, "has already been taken care of."

Nightwing watched in morbid horror as Superman turned around, the rest of the Justice League followed his lead into the building, not even offering a glance back to the family that just lost its mother.

"You're no Justice League," Nightwing whispered as Superman opened the door for all the others to go in before him. Nightwing knew no one could hear him but Superman and Tim, but he didn't care. "You're just a bunch of dictators. Totalitarians. You act like you're a bunch of Lords."

Superman laughed at that one, his white smile that Nightwing had grown up loving suddenly too sickening to look at. "That seems like the only way for real Justice to shine through. I guess that's what we should be called then. No longer a league. We aren't some dinky group anymore, huh? Thank you, Nightwing, for pointing that out." He stood by a door for a moment, still smiling. His manners seemed so out of place, like they weren't really him. "Justice Lords seems like a better choice, no?"

With that, he walked inside and let the door close behind him.