Chapter Text
They should have never stopped in Gotham.
That was the thought that played in Will’s mind on loop as he stared at the growing pool of blood on stage. It all happened so quickly, Will wasn’t sure what occurred. One moment, his mom was standing on stage singing her heart out to a city they weren’t scheduled in, the next she lay motionless on the floor, a growing pool of crimson staining her burnt orange dress.
Orange like the shirts of campers, before they were tainted in bright blood.
In the back of his head, Will could hear screaming. He couldn’t tell if it was coming from the audience or himself. The crowd herded for the doors, not looking back towards the stage as the music cut out. They were running in the wrong direction.
On autopilot, Will stumbled up the stairs to the stage. He knelt in the red as he turned his mom over to assess the wound. He shuddered. It was a single shot, straight through the opening of her mouth and out the back of her head. Her face was frozen, her mouth wide open as if she were singing. Naomi Solace didn’t have the time to even scream before she hit the ground.
When Will pulled her closer, he could see his hand through her head as he cradled her into his chest. There was no saving her. She was dead before he got a chance to try.
–
Everything was a blur after that. Will could feel hands tugging under his arms as they tried to pull him away. He cried as he failed to save his family once more.
Sounds became muffled as if he were underwater. By the time he was lucid, he could vaguely recall a large dark-haired man in what should have been a crisp grey button-up, had it not been for blood staining the front.
Will had half the mind to place his hands on the bloodied areas of the shirt. Instinctively he searched for potential wounds before realizing they were just stains. “Ah..”
He blinked, his mind was hazy. Will wasn’t on the stage anymore, his arms were empty of the weight of his mother’s corpse. The man was no longer kneeling in front of him, but standing a ways away talking to an officer with a couple teens huddled nearby.
A shock blanket had been wrapped around his shoulders. Will tugged it closer, pretending it was Lee assuring him things would be alright.
Now he was alone, sitting at the back of an ambulance. He blinks again, and the button-up man and the officer are standing in front of him. The button-up man bends his knees to match his height to Will’s sitting position. He doesn’t look up though, his eyes stay locked on the dried blood coating his hands.
For a second he’s back in Manhattan, his hands dosed in Mark’s blood. Mark hadn’t managed to dodge an attack from the drakon. He’d been bleeding from the forehead, his lungs caved in– and Will, Will couldn’t do a thing no matter how much nectar he gave him or how many hymns he sang. He couldn’t do anything then, and he couldn’t do anything now.
“Hello, I’m Bruce and this is Commissioner Gordon.” The man gestures towards the ginger haired officer beside him. “You’re William, right?”
Will’s pulled out of his spiraling thoughts. Barely aware (a dangerous state for a demigod), he only nods, words dried out on his tongue before he could try to open his mouth to speak. Bruce seemed to have understood as his next questions could be answered with only a ‘yes’ or ‘no’.
“Do you have any other parent or guardian that you would be able to stay with?”
Will shakes his head, he doubted Camp would count as an appropriate guardian for the police and it wasn’t like his mom kept in touch with her side of the family after he was born. Bruce’s face turned grim as he looked towards the commissioner.
“What’s…,” he pauses, “what’s gonna happen to me?...” Will trails off as he for once looks up into Bruce’s eyes. His tears have long since dried but Bruce can see the smudged tear tracks lining his face.
Bruce can’t help but feel a sickening sense of familiarity as he looks back at Will. It was almost like he was at Haley’s Circus, talking to Dick all those years ago. “I’m afraid I don’t know, chum.” He winces internally at the usage of the same nickname he used for Dick.
Will frowns, curling up tighter, he pulls his knees up to his chest. His family’s blood is on his hands but this time his siblings aren’t here to help him.
–
Dick can’t help but stare at the blonde kid sitting at the back of the ambulance. Will Solace, the son of the victim, was sitting like he once did, like how many had–covered in the blood of his parents. He hated that he could relate.
Dick jolts when Cass places a hand on his shoulder. The plan was to have a nice family outing. Damian was staying with the Kents for the weekend but otherwise, the rest of the family had come to attend the concert of a relatively famous singer.
But this was Gotham, a place where nice outings are hard to come by.
“Is there anything we can do?” Dick asked, his eyes remaining on the blonde kid.
Tim is the one that responds. “Bruce is already talking with the Commissioner. Other than that, there isn’t much we can do right now.”
He sounds as distraught as Dick feels and he reaches out to Tim and pulls him into a side hug.
Dick frowns and Cass squeezes his shoulder. There might not be much that could be done now, but maybe later under a different persona something would be done.
He looks over at Jason who’s glaring at the direction of the sullied stage. “Little Wing–”
“I know.” Jason cuts him off before he finishes. His eyes flash green before settling back into its usual teal. With a frustrated scowl he pushes himself off the wall he was leaning against. His eyes soften as he glances over at the blonde kid before turning back to his siblings.
“He won’t end up in the foster system, right?” Duke’s words cut through the silence.
“We don’t know for sure,” Steph frowns, “who knows, maybe he has a father who just happens not to be here tonight.” Her words try to sound optimistic but her tone falls flat.
Dick winces at the mention of the Gotham foster care system. It is no surprise to anyone that the system is shitty. No matter how much Bruce tries to help fix it, some corrupt official or even just the staff themselves will make his efforts futile.
“In the case that it does, I doubt Bruce will let this case fall into their hands.” Tim reassures and Cass signs in agreement.
When Dick looks back, he sees Bruce crouching down as he and Gordon question the boy. By his expression it isn’t going in a good direction which only makes Dick’s stomach churn uncomfortably.
He sighs, then proceeds to round up his siblings. “Come on, let’s head back to the car while Bruce finishes up here.”
For a moment Jason looks like he’s about to argue before conceding and walking back with Dick’s hand around his shoulder.
As of now, Dick could only hope that Bruce would be able to help the boy. In the meantime, it looks like a new case just found its way into his hands.