The Wayne estate was quiet, calm, peaceful in a way it did not often seem. A slight chill ran through the air, the gentle breeze causing tree branches to tap the windows of the manor. The scent of freshly fallen rain on dewy grass graced the property, the night’s previous storm having left its impact on the area. The whole thing was picturesque, and if one walked up to take a picture, it could almost be confused with an old painting. The only thing that broke up the otherwise tranquil scene was the figure standing in the early morning light, looking at the ground, their shadow stretching across the grass.
Bruce was still, staring at the ground in front of him. How long he’d been there, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that what lay in front of him was searing a hole in his heart, pain seizing his chest as his heartbeat quickened. The breeze made him shiver, and he hugged himself in an attempt to warm up, the wind knocking stray raindrops from the trees onto his face, the droplets dripping down like tears. Dawn hadn’t even truly broken yet, the sun still trying to get itself up over the horizon, and he had been up all night.
Ordinarily, he would’ve gone to bed by now in an attempt to get at least some sleep, but the ground in front of him had his full attention. Very slowly, Bruce sank to his knees. He hadn’t even bothered to remove his cape and cowl yet, as his attention had been diverted before he had gone back into the Batcave. He very well might’ve stayed there all morning, if a hand on his shoulder didn’t distract him from his silent stupor.
He blinked back tears he didn’t realize were welling up in his eyes, the owner of the hand having shaken him from his thoughts. He looked up, seeing Jason standing over him, looking at him with confusion.
“Bruce?”, Jason asked, a trace of bewilderment in his otherwise gruff tone, “What’re you doing?” Bruce didn’t respond, simply letting his eyes drift back over to where he had been looking moments before. Jason followed his gaze, slowly understanding what had kept Bruce out in the yard for so long: a baby bird, not just any kind of baby bird, a baby robin. It looked to be about the age of a fledgling, just old enough to try and leave the nest. The poor thing was laying dead on the grass, minorly injured and likely fallen from the nest due to the storm the night before. The mother bird was up in the nearby tree, crying and chirping, trying to find her baby. Bruce continued to blink back tears, looking back up at Jason. If he were less tired, it would be easier to move past this, but Bruce was exhausted, and this was the last thing he wanted to see today.
“It’s not fair…”, he mumbled, “She put the nest up in the knothole, he shouldn’t have been able to fall. He didn’t do anything wrong… it looks like a cat got him too.” He paused long enough to rub at his eye. “I tried to help, I put him back in the tree yesterday. I wanted to save him.” Bruce frowned, struggling to try and keep himself composed, failing miserably as he did. Jason kneeled down next to him, gently wrapping his arm around his father’s shoulders, pulling him against his side. Bruce silently started shaking, scooting a little closer to Jason. Having him back made Bruce feel so many things, guilt being one of them. Why couldn’t he keep any robins safe? Why did something awful always have to happen? Why wasn’t he enough?
“You did your best, Bruce.” Jason whispered, “It’s not your fault, and it never will be. I promise.” He held onto Bruce a little tighter. Even if he didn’t fully believe them, Jason’s words helped to ease at least a few of his worries. Bruce sniffled, a shuddery sigh escaping him. It was quiet as the two sat there, looking at the poor little fledging in the grass, the mournful song of the mother bird being the only real sound in the otherwise silent morning, interspersed with the occasional sniff from Bruce. After sitting in the quiet for a few minutes, Jason turned to Bruce again.
“Hey, Alfred bought some new flowers that needed planted… you wanna pick one and bury the little guy under it?” Bruce nodded, agreeing with the suggestion as he managed to calm himself slightly.
Jason helped him to his feet, and the two walked over to the freshly bought flower pots. After a few minutes of deliberation, Bruce settled on a pot of little light blue flowers. The tag attached called them Myosotis scorpioides.
“Forget-Me-Nots,” Jason chuckled, “nice choice.” Bruce nodded, and barely above a whisper, he replied, “They’re almost the color of a robin’s egg… I thought they were fitting.”
The two walked back over to where the baby bird lay, morning dew gathering on its feathers. Jason gently cupped the fledgling in his hands, thankfully still wearing his gloves from his Red Hood uniform, and ran his thumb over the feathers on its head. Bruce quietly used a small trowel that was on his tool belt to dig a hole at the base of the tree where the robin nest had resided, careful to avoid the roots as much as he could. The rain from the previous night did a good job at making the ground soft and easy to dig through.
Once the hole was sufficiently deep enough, Jason tenderly laid the baby into the bottom, helping Bruce to cover the poor thing with dirt. Bruce then took the flowers, and upon removing them from their pot, set them into the much shallower hole and finished covering it with dirt.
“Your mom loved you.”, Bruce whispered to the little bird’s grave, his voice breaking, “She really did, she tried to make everything so perfect, I watched her make the nest, and I know she was so proud when you tried to fly… I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” The dam finally broke as he quietly started to cry, a few stray tears sliding down his face from under his cowl. Jason wrapped his arm around his father yet again, letting the older man hug him. He couldn’t be sure how long they stood there like that, but after a while he looked up to see the sun was over the horizon and it had to be inching towards mid-morning.
“Hey, it’s getting late, and you’ve been at it all night,” He pulled away from the hug just long enough to whisper, “you need to rest, at least for a bit.” There was no argument as the two walked away, still staying close to each other. As they left, they could hear the fluttering of wings and landing, the mama investigating the memorial that a fellow parent had made for her baby. Sitting to rest near it, she approved of the bat and baby bird’s work.