Author's notes:What. Am. I. Doing. Bringing y'all with me into a whole new world of hurt, it seems!

Warnings:Gore and character death. Some smoking.

PART ONE: FROM ASHES, INTO ASHES

1. KICK

No one knows where the Titans came from, or why, or if someone sent them. No one knows if they had a name before humanity gave them one. What we do know is this: more than a hundred years ago, giants appeared in this world, and their sole purpose seems to be devouring humans.

Some call them mankind's natural predator. Others say that they are spawn of Hell, sent to punish the wicked. There are many things that people believe, some utterly ridiculous and others too horrible to relate. But the truth is simple. They prey on us. They are stronger than us. And no one knows if they can be killed.

So how are we still here? Our race has been driven to the brink of extinction, this is true. In a last attempt for survival, we built the Walls—three 50-meter barriers to protect what remains of humanity—and here we have hidden away from the Titans for a hundred years.

The safety we have made for ourselves is a comfort. No Titan exists that is taller than fifteen meters, and they are not intelligent enough to learn a way to scale a 50-meter wall, much less three of them. This century of peace will be followed by another, and another after that.

For such a strong species, we really do make the simplest mistakes.

The year was 845. Summer was finally coming to Gotham District. The other dreary cityscape was recovering its color, and a buzz of energy had been building up since spring. Dick Grayson could feel it through his fingers, splayed against the damp earth. He somersaulted, his toes briefly springing off the ground, then was balancing on his hands again as he moved precariously along a fence.

"Hey, Dick!"

The boy paused, gripping the wood under his palms firmly before craning his neck up. His lips pulled back into a smile, blue eyes turning bright. "Yo!" he called back.

"Walking on your hands, I see. What did you do to incur the wrath of your mom this time?" The wildly freckled youth who made these comments sauntered over, a large satchel slung over his shoulder. His bright orange hair still had the spiky, windswept look Dick remembered.

Wally West stopped, bending over slightly so his head was on the same level as Dick's. He must have grown at least three inches since last summer. Dick smirked at his friend and answered his inquiry. "I may have provided some lonely earwigs with a new home in Miss Katerina's rice."

"Dick!" Wally leaned, howling with laughter. He dropped his pack down on the grass and shoved Dick off the fence. The other boy landed on his feet easily, brushing soil off his hands. "You're definitely the same little troll I left here last fall." Wally quirked an eyebrow. "Emphasis on the little."

"Do you want to die?"

Wally sniggered unrepentantly. Dick was about to threaten his wellbeing further when he felt a very familiar presence right behind him. "And what is my little bird doing standing on his two feet?" Mary Grayson asked. She had that smile on that Dick was sure could scare people right out of their skin. "Handstand for an hour, Dick, remember?"

Dick instantly pointed to his best friend. "He pushed me."

"Yes, I did." Wally was still completely unrepentant. Actually, he was smug. Dick made faces at him as his mother went over to say hello. John Grayson seemed to pop up from nowhere, rubbing his knuckles across Wally's scalp.

"I thought you'd be showing up soon," the acrobat said cheerfully. Wally kept squawking as he tried to escape the man's chokehold, and Dick cackled. "How's it going, Wally?"

"Great," Wally replied. "Now can you let me go so I can beat up my pal?"

It was obvious who Dick had gotten his cackle from. John released the teenager, continuing to chuckle lightly. "You two are just like me and Rick."

"Yes, a couple of troublemakers." Mary didn't seem to have any problems with this though, if her fond expression was anything to go by. "You go get yourself settled in, Wally, I'm sure you know where everything is by now. Dick, we're meeting in the practice area in ten minutes. One moment late and I'll twist you into a pretzel."

"Yes ma'am!" Wally seemed concerned by Dick's instantaneous response. Apparently Mrs. Grayson had backed this threat up before. John and Mary went elsewhere then, Mary bumping John's shoulder with her own as she grabbed his hand. Dick started to lift up Wally's bag, but he stopped and turned wide eyes on his friend. "What are you packing in this thing?"

Wally laughed sheepishly, heaving the pack back up over his shoulder. He and Dick started crossing the circus grounds, home for Dick and familiar ground for Wally. "I may have made a bet with my uncle that I can design 3D Maneuver Gear that moves faster than his does, without burning up as much gas."

"Isn't your uncle the personal assistant to the guy who invented Maneuver Gear?"

"Yeah." Wally seemed both amused and embarrassed. "If I don't prove my theory by the end of summer, I have to keep Barry's lab clean all the way through next spring."

Dick burst out laughing. "Wally, what is it with you and truly dumb ideas?"

"Dude! Feel my pain here some, at least!"

They kept laughing, and fell into a relaxed silence as they moseyed along. Dick was practically aglow with happiness. It was good to have Wally back again.

Dick and Wally had been best friends since Dick was nine. Wally's family had come out to Gotham District for some sort of meeting, and it was the circus' last performance of that season. The Wests got to see for themselves the Flying Graysons, and the two boys had bumped into each other afterwards. Wally shared his hot cocoa with Dick, and Dick taught Wally how to cartwheel. They had been best pals ever since.

Wally came every summer now to stay with the Graysons as Haly's Circus traveled all around Wall Cassandra, starting and finishing their circuit at Gotham District. Last year, Dick had gotten to spend the winter in Central District with Wally's family. He had been amazed that his parents had allowed it, but very glad.

They had gotten into lots of trouble together, him and Wally. Somehow they managed to keep making it out relatively unscathed. It was fun having someone to laugh with. And the first time Dick had seriously talked to Wally, during the winter he stayed with the Wests, well… it turned out that his goofy friend had quite a heart.

It had been four years now. Dick was twelve and Wally was fourteen. And Dick had obviously been spacing out for too long, because Wally was waving a hand in front of his face. The younger boy blinked, taking half a step back.

"There you are," Wally said. "I need the spare key for your caravan."

"Oh, right." Dick unlocked the caravan and hopped in, going to the lockbox where Wally's key was kept. Wally tossed his pack on the bed that was usually just for Dick, to be unpacked later. They both got out of the small living space, and Dick locked the door again before passing the other key to Wally, who dropped it over his head and tucked it underneath his shirt.

"And now you are settled in," said Dick. "Hey, didn't your parents come with you?"

"Nah. Just me this time." Wally sounded a little too casual, so Dick knew he was unhappy about it. It always took the older boy a few days before he was back to his usual self. "Dad's working overtime to pay off some loans he took out to help a friend. Mom's helping a establishing a clinic in one of the towns to the south of Central. Who's the lady she's doing it with? Something Reyes. Betty? Bertha?"

"Brenda, maybe? Or Bianca?"

"Bianca, that's it! Bianca Reyes. Her husband's apparently serving with the Survey Corps near here. Anyway, that's why I came solo this year." He looked over as Dick swung back down to his hands, feet pointed to the air. "Sure you can make it to practice in four minutes walking on your hands? You don't want to get twisted into a pretzel."

"Oh, being a pretzel isn't so bad. It's getting stuck that I'm worried about." Dick started moving, and Wally could see why being late wasn't a concern for the young acrobat. At that moment Miss Katerina walked past, and she laughed before shaking a finger at Dick. The old fortunate teller's reproving look was betrayed by the twinkle in her eyes.

"You're excited," Wally observed. He had noticed that Dick was grinning a little bit more than usual.

"Heck yeah! Tonight's the big night, Wallman!" It felt a little awkward holding conversation while walking upside-down, but Dick didn't mind so much. He was in way too good of a mood to be bothered.

Wally seemed to be catching Dick's enthusiasm already; he could easily see the bounce in his friend's step. Wally was great that way. "Oh yeah, opening night for Haly's Circus, and of course the Flying Graysons. Start of the new season, right? I've always missed it by a couple of nights before."

Dick smiled to himself, a secret smile. He was always excited for opening night, but this time was something extra special. Tonight, he was going to shock his best friend—shock the entire audience—and become the youngest fully fledged member of the Flying Graysons in history. Tonight, he was going to perform in the finale.

He was so excited, he could barely breathe. Although that could have something to do with his current position upside-down.

Every district within the walls had its rough neighborhoods. Gotham had more than most. Skirting the outside wall was a collection of rundown houses that bred a special sort of people—hard, cynical survivalists, and sturdy hopefuls who couldn't be shaken from their belief that better things were down the road.

Catherine Todd was like that. Jason Todd was not. The ten-year-old was as cynical as could be, but one thing he did bear in common with his mother was his strong temper. At least once a day he'd manage to get into a fight of some sort.

Today he had been collecting firewood (to his mind, glorified sticks), scrapping with other boys for the best stuff. Other boys often meant bigger boys, but Jason's ferocity had gotten him a reputation. After such a long day, Jason was exhausted and tense. He'd had a knot of anxiety twisting in his stomach since he had woken up this morning, and he didn't know why. It was part of the reason he'd gotten into so many fights today. Mom wasn't going to be pleased with all of the new cuts and bruises on Jason's face, not to mention the rest of him.

The boy reached inside of his jacket, fingers wrapping around the worn packet of cigarettes that were the last thing he had left of his father. He struck a match against the sole of his left shoe and lit a cigarette. The roll between his lips felt more comfortable each time.

His mother would furious if she found out. She didn't like it when he did the same stuff his father had used to, before he left. Jason thought there was a cruel irony to the fact that the same night Willis Todd had ditched his family, he was murdered in the street. The only thing that hadn't been ripped from his pockets had been the packet of cigarettes, and for some reason Jason had kept that. He stole matches from the house every now and again.

He had lit seven cigarettes since the morning they had found his dad's body, more than two years ago. He hadn't cried. At least, not that he could remember. This marked his eighth cigarette. Something about watching the smoke curl lazily up through the air made him feel more relaxed. He liked it.

Jason pulled the cigarette away from his lips, exhaling as he sank down to the ground with his back against the wall of the house he was hiding by. The smoke was a nice change from what this place usually smelled like. He was slowly relaxing, but that nasty feeling still twisted in his stomach, like something bad was about to happen.

"You're going to be late for dinner."

Jason panicked, scrabbling to keep from dropping his cigarette and trying to avoid burning himself at the same. In the end, he kept his cigarette but burned the thumb of his left hand. His fingers clenched as he tried not to do something pathetic, like scream, and he glared up at his intruder.

"Dangit, Talia! I've told you not to sneak up on me like that!"

Talia al Ghul was not intimidated by Jason's wrath. She never was, and that wasn't surprising from a woman who could break backs. The cigarette was plucked from Jason's hand and stomped out in the dirt. "It's time for you to be heading home, Jason. Mrs. Todd needs that firewood."

Jason scowled at where the remains of his cigarette had been ground into the soil. "Why did we ever think that providing your dad the doc with local lodgings would be a good idea?" He shook his head and continued to grumble, hauling himself up to his feet and grabbed his carrier full of wood.

"Because Father pays well," Talia replied matter-of-factly. She ruffled Jason's hair and the boy huffed indignantly, trotting several steps ahead to stay out of her reach.

Dr. Ra's al Ghul and his daughter had been staying with the Todd family for the past year during visits to Gotham District. Dr. al Ghul preferred to be nearer to where the most sickness was, rather than a high-class location far away. He was legendary for stopping epidemics in their tracks. What was the count up to now? Five, Jason thought.

There was something creepy about Dr. al Ghul, though, something Jason couldn't put his finger on. Yet he still found himself drawn in by the mysteriousness of the man, so he was disappointed to see familiar packed bag by the door. Shouldn't there be more than one? Dr. al Ghul was handing a final payment to Catherine Todd as Talia and Jason walked in.

"Jason, you're late," Catherine chided her son. Jason scowled, scuffing his shoe on the floor as he muttered an apology. He shrugged off the wood carrier and hurried over to the rack.

Dr. al Ghul didn't fail to notice Jason's repeated glances his way. He smiled slightly. "It's only a business trip, young Todd. I'll be back in a few days. And before you ask, Talia: yes, I am sure about going alone. I am not so terribly frail as all that, you know."

The doctor picked up his briefcase and then paused, gazing at a key he had pulled out of his pocket. "Jason."

Jason stopped stacking wood, looking over. "Yeah?"

Dr. al Ghul's eyes gleamed strangely. The bright green of his gaze made Jason's own seem gray in comparison. "When I get back, I'm going to show you that basement I've always kept secret from you."

"R-really?"

"Yes. I think it's time."

Catherine nudged her son. "Thanks, Dr. al Ghul," he said quickly.

The doctor nodded and went out the door. Jason threw the last few pieces of wood onto the rack and ran over to the window, watching him go down the walkway that would eventually take him to the docks along the river.

A smile slowly spread Jason's face. He had something to look forward to when Dr. al Ghul got back, something cool. At least, it had better be cool. Jason couldn't imagine why it wouldn't be, with someone like the doc.

"I'll make sure he gets there," he told his mother, and rushed out of the house.

Talia looked over at Catherine. "I'll make sure he comes back."

Catherine shook her head with a laugh. "I'm never going to know what to do with that boy."

It had started a couple of days ago. Certain things had turned blurry, and it was getting harder to read. Tim Drake was not okay with this new development, not in the least. Reading was important! What would he do if he couldn't do that? Maybe Dad would know what to do…

Tim was out in the big yard surrounding the manor he and his father lived in. It was big and grand, but Tim didn't like it. It was too big and grand for just two people and some servants. The only time it was full was during dinner parties, and Tim only got to hang around for a little while during those. He liked the suits and gowns, but once the adults started talking to him like he was a dumb kid, everything stopped being fun.

Mm, but it was nice today. There were no parties to get ready for, Dad had come home from the business early today, and it really felt like summer. Tim sprawled out in the grass, his shoes and stockings abandoned elsewhere in the yard. He smiled as he looked up at the sky, turning golden with the sunset. It probably wouldn't be long before Miss Elizabeth was sent out to fetch him.

The seven-year-old hummed. It had been a good day. Tonight, he would have dinner with his dad, and later on they would sit together in the parlor and read. Who cared if it was getting a little hard? It was Tim's favorite thing to do, ever.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, what you have truly been waiting for… the grand finale, brought to you by none other than the Flying Graysons!"

The audience roared. It seemed louder to Dick each year. He smiled and waved with the rest of his family as the spotlight returned to them. Every year before, this was the part when he stepped back. Tonight, though, he was going out there with them. The last flying Grayson to join the finale. The adrenaline coursing through his system was almost enough to make him giddy.

Cousin JJ clapped his shoulder, grinning. Dick had been worried that the teenager would be jealous that he was starting younger than he had, but it turned out that he had nothing to worry about. JJ had nearly blown his top with excitement upon learning of the plan. He was definitely the son of Rick and Karla Grayson.

Dick whispered along with his dad as the net was pulled out. "No net, Ringmaster! That's not the show these people came here to see!"

The audience cheered. Dick spotted Wally in the seat Haly's Circus always reserved for him, the one that could be perfectly seen from the trapeze. Dick's mom had given him a scarf earlier, since it was going to be chilly this evening, and Wally was wearing it now. Dick thought it was fitting that his best friend had something that matched the red of the Grayson uniforms.

He waved, and it looked like Wally returned two thumbs up. He hadn't figured out the secret yet. Good.

Haly had the net tucked away. John Grayson offered his hand to his wife, bowing, and Mary laughed before catapulting of his shoulders. Dick loved watching his parents goof around. Two Graysons in movement. Uncle Rick and Aunt Karla picked up JJ by the arms and legs, cackling at his noisy squawking, and flung him off the platform. He was caught by John. Three Graysons in movement. Uncle Rick and Aunt Karla held hands, somersaulting in tandem to the trapeze bars John and Mary had sent swinging towards them. Five Graysons in movement.

"Hey, Dick!" John called, his circus voice filling the tent. His smile was broad, and so proud that for some reason Dick thought he might cry. "Wanna be the youngest Grayson to ever perform the finale, son?"

"Heck yeah!" Dick shouted back. Forget crying, he was grinning so wide his face was in danger of splitting. This was it. He was going to be the sixth Grayson in movement. He was going to fly with them all the way to the end.

The audience was shocked, just like he had hoped, and they made their pleasure with this turn of events loudly known. Dick could see Wally jump up and punch the air in his excitement, cheering even more loudly than the rest. Dick could hear him.

Just a few more seconds, and everyone would be in position. Dick was going to drop into a handstand and do a back flip off of the platform, completely blind. His father would catch him by the leg, and he'd swing upright and get passed along by his mother. Cousin JJ would be waiting to pair up. This was what they had been practicing all winter, and finally it was going to come to fruition.

Two seconds, and then Dick would move. He shifted his left foot back slightly. The roar of the crowds resounded in his head. The smiles of his family, waiting for him, seemed more wonderful than anything he had ever seen.

"Today's the day," Dick whispered to himself. This had been his mantra since he had woken up this morning.

He would never understand how it happened. Much less why. There was a loud boom, like cannon fire, and the ground lurched violently. The pole supporting the opposite platform, and half the tent, came toppling down. The trapeze wires snapped.

The Flying Graysons were suspended in air for an awful moment—Dick's parents looked across to him and reached out their hands—and they all fell. JJ screamed, desperately trying to grab his parents' hands before they slammed into the ground. They became nothing more than a tangle of broken bones and lifeless bodies. The dirt turned into mud, dark red.

The tent was stiflingly silent. Dick dropped to his knees, his fingers gripping the edge of the platform in spite of the splinters. How, how, why? Was this a dream, some horrible dream? What was this fear pounding through him, this unbearable tearing? What was happening?

"Mom? Dad?" Dick's voice was tiny, shaking. No one else could hear it. "JJ? Uncle Rick? Aunt Karla?" He shook, not like he did when he was cold, not like he did when he was scared. This was something else. Something worse. Hot tears dripped onto his fingers. "Mom! Dad! Get up, please! You're not supposed to fall!"

He was screaming, begging, somebody tell them to stop this and get up. He couldn't see Wally anymore. Had he run away? Had he somehow fallen, too? Everything had turned into a nightmare so fast.

Someone came running into the tent. The skidding of their shoes was loud. Dick only knew it was a man because of his shout. "TITANS! TITANS HAVE BROKEN THROUGH THE WALL!"

It sounded like thunder and lightning fused together. Jason stopped trying to locate Dr. al Ghul and turned around, wondering what could even make such a weird noise. His mouth dropped open as he stared up at the giant face peeking over the Wall. Red, skinless fingers wrapped across the top.

Titan. That's a Titan.

Jason was perhaps the only one who didn't run when the Titan kicked a hole through the Wall. Maybe he was brave, maybe he was stupid, but mostly he was frozen in place by utter shock. A Titan. A Titan nearly four times than it could possibly be.

He was only started to run when he saw the first Titans through the haze of debris, but many would have said that he was running in the wrong direction. Well, in this neighborhood, nobody was going to try to save him.

His house… his house was there. "Mom!" Jason screamed, and ran faster. He raced towards the Titans while everyone else fled. All he had to do was get around the corner, around that final corner, and he would find his house, his mom, all safe, and they would escape from Gotham District together.

He didn't even realize that he had rushed past Talia. Talia turned around, and knew in an instant what the boy was trying to do.

A giant piece of stone had crushed the roof of Jason's house. He could see his mother pinned underneath, trying vainly to pull herself free. Her face had gone white from the pain. Jason put on a last burst of speed, scraping his knees as he crashed down beside her. "Mom! Don't worry, I'll get you out of here."

"The Titans are coming in, aren't they?" Catherine was scared. Jason had never seen his mother scared before, and that scared him. Catherine grabbed her son's hand with her own. It was shaking. "Jason, you have to run."

"We'll both run, once I get you out of here," Jason answered stubbornly. Tears were streaming down his mother's face—the collapsed roof was hurting her bad. Jason pulled his hand free and pushed, pulled, lifted with all of his defiant strength, but it was no good. A little boy's determination wasn't going to move a roof.

"You have to go now."

"No way, Mom."

"I can't run with you, Jason, my legs are broken."

"Then I'll carry you!"

"Jason, just this once, listen to me!" Jason flinched as his mother screamed, but he kept struggling to lift the collapsed roof off of his mother. He could see Titans approaching, and for the first time he understood what true terror was. His mother looked up, her features sagging in relief. "Talia, oh thank God."

"Hello, Catherine."

"Quit the greeting fest!" Jason snapped. "Talia, help me get this off Mom so we can get out of here!"

"Jason…" Catherine grabbed his hand again, this time refusing to let go. She was still weeping, and Jason knew now that it wasn't just because of the pain. "Baby, promise me that you'll live. Promise me."

"M-Mom?"

"Please."

"Yeah, I promise, okay? Now let's get you out of—hey!"

Jason was picked up and slung over Talia's shoulder. Dr. al Ghul's daughter straightened up and promptly began running away.

"Talia, what are you doing?!"

"Jason!"

"Mom!" They reached for each other desperately as the distance continued to lengthen. Both were weeping.

"Live, Jason!" his mother cried. "Live!"

Jason's eyes never closed. His hand never stopped reaching, as though somehow he could will his mother out from under the rubble, and they would take each other by the hand and flee. He watched as the grinning Titan tossed away the roof like it was nothing and picked up his weakly struggling mother. Blood spattered on Titan, house, and pavement as Catherine Todd was bitten in half.

Jason could feel his heart stop. He could feel everything that had ever mattered to him die in an instant. He could feel all of his love turn into inconsolable rage. He screamed until he couldn't breathe, pounding on Talia's back as he sobbed.

"We could have saved her. Traitor! We could have saved her!"

"No," Talia snapped, and her voice was just as matter-of-fact as always. She put his feet back on the ground, her expression harsh as she stared into his eyes. "Neither of us could have saved her. You are weak, Jason, and I care about my own skin. That is simply how it is. Your mother wanted to live, and that is exactly what you will do."

She had him climb up on her back and ordered him to hold on. Jason noticed now the 3D Maneuver Gear she had on, and was confused. Only military personnel had the authority to possess Maneuver Gear. Talia took a running start, and soon the 3DMG was carrying her and Jason over the rooftops.

"Let's get to the ships."

Tim blinked curiously at the book his father placed in his hands, and he set it down on his lap and began turning through the pages. There were handwritten notes and several sketches, but most of the pages were blank. He looked back up at his dad, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "What's this?"

Jack Drake smiled down at his son. "It's for you. It used to mine, and before that it was your grandfather's."

"But… there's hardly anything in here!" Tim was aghast. His father smiled again, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I've never really been a writer. Your grandfather was much the same. I guess this book has been waiting for you all this time."

Tim's eyes grew big, wondering. "You think so?"

"Absolutely."

Father and son looked up as something boomed in the distance. Even from where they were, they could feel the ground lurch. "Dad, what was that?"

Jack's face was pale. He limped quickly over to the window, jerking the curtains fully open. Smoke roiled up from the Wall, barely visible in the distance. "Something's there," he whispered. The businessman turned to his son. "Tim, we have to go now. What do you think of a nice summer trip? We can visit other districts inside of Wall Cassandra. We'll pull out the maps and you can pick out which ones as we go."

Jack wasn't in the habit of talking around Tim's questions. So the boy didn't say yes or no as he slowly stood up from where he had been curled up in his chair. "Can I bring my book?"

"Sure! In fact, I insist that you do." Jack looked over as Miss Elizabeth came in, her eyes round with fear as she escorted two Garrison soldiers into the parlor.

"Mr. Drake, we're here to escort you and your son to safety."

"No," Jack said firmly, and pointed to the younger lad who obviously possessed no rank. "This soldier is here to escort us. You, sir, are going to make certain that Miss Elizabeth and her family get to the ships safely. Understood?"

"Mr. Drake—"

"Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The two soldiers split between the Drakes and their servants. Tim ran upstairs and grabbed his schoolbag, stuffing his writing utensils and the book inside. It felt like he would need them. Clutching the handles in his small hand, he ran downstairs and joined his father and the soldier. He never thought to ask the soldier what his name was, and he would never find out.

The ships were filling up with people. It didn't take long for Tim to decipher the screams about Titans breaking through the Wall. He jerked to a halt, eyes stretching wide with his terror, and the soldier promptly started carrying him so they could continue onward. Tim managed not to drop his bag.

They squeezed onto the ship. The soldier set Tim down and disappeared into the crowds. He was probably going to die. It was a scary thing to think. Jack sat beside Tim, asking him if he was alright. Tim nodded silently, pressing closer to his father's side.

Tim wasn't used to being jostled like this. It was scary. Someone tripped over him and dropped like a sack of potatoes. The look in the other boy's tear-filled eyes was terrifying and so, so sad.

"Mom," he whimpered, and hid his face behind his hands.

Dick had heard the screams, knew that the audience had fled in mindless terror. Everyone was gone—the Ringmaster, the crowds, the performers,his family, everyone. He knew he should run too, but he was unable to rise up from his knees as he wept. Everyone gone, gone, gone.

"Dick! Dick!"

He was confused to hear his own name, and looked down. Wally was clinging precariously to the spikes that acted as a ladder up to the trapeze. He hadn't run away at all. It was now that Dick realized the stability of this pole had also been compromised, and they were swaying dangerously. He was going to fall, too.

"C'mon dude, we've gotta get out of here," Wally called. "The Titans are coming, and we're too close to the Wall!"

"Wally… my family… Mom and Dad…"

"I'm sorry, Dick." The young Grayson could see tears tracking down Wally's face, too. "I'm so, so sorry. But we have got to run."

He reached for Dick's hand. Together they climbed back down, and just as they fled the tent the entire thing collapsed. Wally ran, pulling Dick behind, but he had never been able to keep up with his best friend's rapid pace.

"Wally, you know I'm not fast enough."

"Keep running." Wally stopped and gripped Dick's shoulders as the other boy panted, trying to catch his breath. "Keep running, you hear me? I'll save a spot for you on the ship. We're gonna make it, Dick. We'll go to Central. Okay?"

Dick nodded. "Okay." He watched as Wally dashed ahead, and ran after him as fast as he could. The crowd around the docks was nearly impregnable, so Dick used his small size to his advantage, wriggling his way through to the front. He could see Wally, waving to him from the deck of the last ship, and he ran faster.

The gates were closed just as he reached them. The ships withdrew their ramps. Dick stumbled to a halt, staring across as Wally with wide, frightened eyes. Wally's relieved expression turned to horror.

"The ships are full," the soldiers stated again and again. "No more passengers can be admitted."

"But you can't—"

"What about my child?"

"Please! I'll pay you!"

"Wait!" Wally grabbed the arm of the soldier next to him. He licked his lips, suddenly dry. "I want to switch."

The soldier blinked down at him. "What?"

Dick stared in horror as Wally pointed at him. "That's my best pal over there. You toss me across, and your buddies over there toss him across. A switch."

The soldier couldn't believe what he was hearing. Neither could Dick. "Wally, no!"

Wally refused to look at him, gazing intently up at the soldier. "Please."

The soldier lifted Wally up onto the railing. Two lifted Dick, who was struggling wildly and on the verge of hysteria. "Wally, no! Don't! You can't!"

Wally jumped. A few people on the edge of the dock caught him and pulled him up. Dick screamed. He cried. Wally just looked at him with a strange little smile, and hugged him, murmuring something into his ear. Dick was thrown across, and the ship pulled away from the dock.

The soldier who caught him, who had agreed to this switch, looked across at Wally with an expression akin to awe. He saluted. Wally had done the very thing that soldier had sworn an oath to do—offered up his heart. Wally saluted back, smiling. How could he be smiling?

"You'll die!" Dick wailed.

Wally scoffed, loping along easily to keep pace with the ship. "C'mon Dick, you know me! I'm waaaaaay too fast for those Titans." He waved, and Dick sobbed as his best pal continued to smile. "See you around, Dick!"

"Wally…"

The ship passed beyond hearing range, beyond sight. The water gates closed. The last Dick saw of Wally West was his wave, his smile. The boy crumpled down on the deck and wept, for his family, for his friends. He grieved with the rest of the ship.

"Just tell them, okay?" That was what Wally had murmured. Dick knew what he meant.

"Is this all we can do?" a voice whispered. "Cry?" Dick turned his head at the sound of a harsh, broken laugh. A boy even younger than he was stood up and pushed his way to the railing. "I'll kill them all," he vowed, sniffing as tears ran off his chin. "You hear me, Titans?! You're dead! Every single one of you. I won't rest until your existence is erased from this world!"

Dick watched him scream, a little boy raging at giants. Everyone fell silent once more, moans and wails cut off by the horrific appearance of a new Titan, ramming a hole all the way through the Wall. Gotham District had been lost. Wall Cassandra had been lost.

And now, all humanity could was run.