N/A: I'm currently stuck in the development of "Clone by Genetics, Brother by Heart", so in meanwhile I started another project of mine. It's an alternative Flashpoint AU where for mysterious ways eight years old Bruce Wayne returns to life but under amnesiac state, remembering only his name and some fragments. In his wandering around Gotham, he encounters a young teenager with a white forelock, and then stuff happens...

The story starts about four years before the arrival of Barry in Flashpoint alternate present, and respect to canon story I deliberately change various things, especially about the destinies of Dick, Tim, and Diana, which will obviously affect that world as well. As you can see, the story is narrated from Bruce's POV (he is around 15-16, to make things more clear, so he talks about the events prior and during the main story of Flashpoint).

Naturally, I must thank Rose Midnight Moonlight Black for being my Beta Reader, and following the story so far, and for the patience showed during the revision; for the fact to let revise my future works, the updates will not be so frequent, so you must be patient. For the moment, I will put online the prologue and the first two chapters, for a total of around 3,000 words so far. It's not much, but still it's a start...

I hope you enjoy this new project of mine! And naturally, please comment!

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, neither Flashpoint universe.

A second chance in a falling world

Prologue

The last thing I remember of my past life is a shot in a dark alley, the pain and the blood coming from my chest, and dying into the arms of my parents. Then all become black.

I don't remember anything about my "death life"; it was like an endless sleep, without dreams or nightmares of sort.

Suddenly, I felt like a tremendous electric charge crossing all my body. It occurred me some time to be able to move, disturbed in the meanwhile by a nauseous smell; as I supposed later, it came from my body as my cells were rejuvenating. Thanks goodness I was never able to see myself as a zombie child.

Then, I opened my eyes, only to scream when I saw I was closed in a wooden coffin. I tried to knock hoping if someone could hear me, but soon my fear increased when I understood I was already buried.

With the force of desperation, I tried to dig my way out from my tomb; luckily, the wood of the coffin was already in decomposition, so it was easy reaching soon the turf. During that attempt, my hands started to blood, but I didn't care for them or the growing pain. However, after that experience, they never healed completely so the scars remained. Whatever, they were the first of a long series...

And finally, after an interminable period of time, I managed to dig my way from my tomb. Like in the best horror movies traditions, it was a storm night; but it was a good thing, because the rain softened the ground. I breathed deeply, because of the lack of oxygen in the coffin had clouded my brain. The rain helped me to recover lucidity; but when I tried to remember why I was buried, or better how I died (it was my only certainty in those moments), it was useless.

I didn't remember anything. Only scarce fragments came into in my mind. Probably, if I had looked at the name written on the grave, it would all be different now; but my detective skills weren't so defined. And I was only a scared eight-year old child. I only wanted to go away from that cemetery.

And however, among these fragments, there was one which seemed more vivid among the others: I was drawing in my room, until I finished my work. Then, I ran towards my parents to show it; unfortunately, I couldn't remember their face. Also, it seemed to me there was a third person with them… Whatever, I showed my drawing, and after seeing it my dad told me:

"You made a great job, Bruce."