The ride to the hospital was silent. The atmosphere was tense, as if they were on their way to a funeral. It wasn't that far off, though. If Damian died, they would be going to a funeral.

Dick was driving. He sat at the wheel, staring at the road in stony silence. Then Tim spoke. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

Dick looked at him in the rearview mirror. Tim looked like a mess. There were tear tracks on his face, and his gaze was on his hands, as if they were still covered in blood. "Tim, Damian's going to have a long road ahead of him, but he's going to be just fine."

"How do you know, Dick? How can you be sure?"

"I'm not. But I can feel it in my bones that he's going to be all right, Tim. That, I'm sure of."

Tim nodded. "Okay. I can believe that."

"Tim, we all have a long road ahead of us. The trick is to enjoy it the best we can, while we can. That's all we can do for now," Jason said to him.

Tim looked at him in surprise. "Thanks, Jason. I didn't know you could sound so wise."

Jason shrugged. "You learn a few things when your dead."

Tim was surprised. Jason never talked about his death. Ever. And now he was talking about it like it was nothing. It was weird.

Just then, they pulled into the hospital parking lot. They all sat in the car for a few seconds, trying to brace themselves for what they would find when they went inside.

Then Dick turned the car off, and they all went inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian felt pain. His chest hurt like he was being branded, and he knows what that feels like. It's happened to him before in the League, and it isn't something he likes to think about.

He couldn't see anything except blackness. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. It was like they were glued shut. He gave up on trying to see and decided to use his ears instead. This worked better than his eyes. He could hear a beeping sound to the left of him and some voices to his right. He tried to figure out what they were saying.

"So. . . going. . . be okay?"

That sounded like someone he knew, but he didn't remember who at the moment. Then another voice spoke.

"Yes. He'll be just fine. He'll be very fragile for a few months, though, so be very careful."

This one was female, a little high pitched.

"When do you think he can come home?"

That sounded like Jason, Damian realized. That meant that the first voice had to be Dick or Tim. He thought it was Dick, but he couldn't be sure.

Then the woman spoke. "He should be able to come home in a couple of weeks, dear. A month at the most, depending on how fast he heals."

"When do you think he'll wake up, Dr. Hemingway?" That was definitely Tim, Damian thought. That meant the very first voice must've been Dick.

There was a small pause. Then the woman, who Damian presumed was the Dr. Hemingway, spoke again. "He should wake up in the next few hours. If not, well. . . " she trailed off.

There were footsteps, the sound of a door opening and closing, and then silence except for the beeping in his ears. He fell asleep again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he woke up again, it was to a voice.

"Come on, Damian. Wake up. We need you."

It was Tim. Damian was surprised. He had always thought Tim hated him, so he didn't like him in return. But those few words changed his whole view of Tim. It made him think that Tim did love him, not hate him.

Damian forced his eyes open as best as he could, then immediately closed them again. It was to bright. He tried again, slowly this time. He was in a bed, in a room with white walls. The lights in the room were bright, which is why Damian's eyes hurt the first time. He saw his brothers in the room. Tim was sitting in a chair close to him, Jason was laying on a couch up against a wall, staring at the ceiling, and Dick was pacing silently back and forth at the foot of bed Damian was laying in.

Damian moved his head to the the side, squinting, so he could see Tim better. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week, with half-lidded eyes and dark bags underneath. He had his head in his hand, staring into space. His other hand was curled around Damian's.

Damian squeezed Tim's hand with all of his strength, which wasn't very much. Tim still felt the squeeze. He jumped slightly and looked at Damian in confusion, then he saw that he was awake, and eyes widened.

"Damian! Oh, I'm so glad your awake! I was so scared that you weren't going to make it, and-"

"Whoa, Tim, calm down. Give him room to breathe," Dick interrupted. He smiled at Damian. "Hey, Damian. Welcome to the world of the living. Nice to see you."

Damian looked at him, and realized that he looked tired too, maybe even more than Tim. He looked at Jason laying on the couch, and realized that he was sleeping, not staring at the ceiling. Dick saw who he was looking at, and went to wake him up.

He shook him gently, saying, "Jason, guess who decided to join us."

Jason looked at him blearily, before the question registered and his eyes widened. "Damian?"

Dick smiled and nodded. "Yup."

Jason sat up and looked at him. "You're serious? He's awake?"

"Why don't you see for yourself, Jay," Dick said, moving out of his way.

Jason looked at Damian and smiled at the fact that he was awake. He stood up and walked over to him. "I'm glad you're awake, Demon. It'd be boring without you around."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, after Damian could talk, he asked them what happened. The conversation went like this:

"Why am I in the hospital?" Damian asked his brothers in a slightly scratchy voice from not being used in a while.

The older boys looked at each other. "You were shot, Damian," Jason said bluntly.

Damian raised an eyebrow. "That's it? I've been shot many times before, you know. This is nothing new."

"Well no, but Damian, you were shot in the chest this time."

Damian bristled, but didn't do anything. He just said, "And?"

"Damian, you were an inch away from dying. . . again," Tim said.

Damian's eye twitched as he looked at Tim. "An inch. From dying. Again."

Tim nodded, slightly scared of how Damian was acting. He was probably reliving his death again.

"Then why am I not dead?"

This question surprised the boys. They looked at each other, then Dick spoke. "Damian, you're not dead because Tim saved you. He stopped you from bleeding to death on the living room floor in the manor."

Damian looked at Tim, who looked at him with a determined look on his face. "I couldn't let my only little brother die again. I wouldn't be a very good big brother, now would I?" he said with a small smile.

Then Damian did the unthinkable. He hugged Tim. He whispered "Thank you" and hugged him with all his strength.

Tim just sat there, not knowing what to do, his hands outstretched. Then he hugged Damian back, and whispered "Your welcome little bro."

Dick and Jason watched in awed silence. If only Bruce were here to see this. Dick secretly took a picture on his phone and showed Jason.

Jason looked at it and gave him a thumbs up. He mouthed "Blackmail?" and Dick nodded.

Tim and Damian broke away from their hug and looked at the two older boys. "You took a picture, didn't you?" Tim asked.

Dick nodded, smiling. Damian glared at him and Tim rolled his eyes, but they didn't do anything. Yet. "You remember that I'm a hacker, right?" Tim reminded them.

They nodded, not sorry that they had took the the picture. Tim rolled his eyes again and shook his head.

Then Damian spoke. "Do you know who shot me?"

Needless to say, his question dampened the mood a bit. The older boys looked at each other and frowned. "You don't remember? You don't remember what happened?"

"If I knew what happened, I wouldn't be asking such stupid questions, now would I? So, what happened to get me shot?" Damian said annoyed.

"Well, Tim was the only one actually there, so he should tell you," Jason said, looking at Tim.

"I wanted to wait until he woke up. And I didn't really want to talk about it, anyways," Tim muttered. "Damian, what do you remember?"

Damian frowned. "I remember the lights going out, Titus getting shot, and. . . and. . . that's it. That's all I remember."

Tim frowned. "That's it? That all you remember?"

Damian nodded. "Yes. Why?"

Tim took a deep breath, and explained what happened to them.

Afterwards, Damian sat on the bed, deep in thought. "He was wearing all black with a hood?"

Tim nodded. "Yup. All black with a hood. He was about average height, too, if you wanted to know."

Damian frowned. "It sounds like Heretic. But he's dead, so that's not possible." The whole situation bugged Damian. He had a feeling that he knew the person, but he wasn't sure if he was right.

The older boys looked at each other at the mention of Heretic. "Damian, Thalia could have threw him into the Lazarus Pit-" Jason started, but was interrupted.

"No, Mother wouldn't have done that with Heretic. To her, he was flawed. She shot him in front of my eyes. She wouldn't use the Pit on him. Unless she had a reason, which I doubt. And besides, it sounds like the man who shot me wanted me for something he wanted, not someone else, according to what he said to you, Drake."

Tim nodded. "'If I can't have him, no one can.'"

Damian nodded. "So, he wanted me for something. The question is, who and why?" He looked at his brothers, something about this was nagging at him. He felt like he should know the answer to both of those questions. But he didn't, so he had to move on.

The next day, the bots got a surprise visitor. The boys' eyes widened at who it was.

"Hello, Damian."

"Mother?"

Ugh, this is such a short chapter, less then 2000 words, but I can't think of anything else to write, and it seemed like the perfect cliffy for you guys!

Anyways, I would love to read your comments and see what you think, so comment away.

Thank you for reading my crappy writing.

And I am getting rid of the prologue because I don't like it, its too short. Sorry my people.

BYE :)