(A last stressful hour... so I typed this.)
Robin could scarcely believe it himself.
Johnny Rancid, biker, villain, and even considered a terrorist... was dying right in front of him.
His lightning blue eyes glared at him as he lay with a large rock spike through his chest. If Robin removed him, he would die instantly. If he didn't, Johnny would die within minutes to hours. One of those 'freak accidents' they both supposed, riding along the cliffs (well, more like Robin was chasing Johnny) and Johnny's bike slipped and fell... landing Johnny right on the spike.
His spine broken, air leaking out of a bloodless chest, and he somehow still alive, Johnny glared at Robin. "I... guess your happy now, huh, bird boy? You won't have to chase me around the streets." Robin shook his head no. "You didn't deserve this though. At all."
Johnny laughed loudly which dissolved into gasping for air. Robin walked up next to him. "Have any... last requests?" Robin asked, sitting down next to him. Johnny slowly nodded. "Just... stay here... until I die. Dying alone is a bad thing." Robin nodded. "I fully agree."
The next couple minutes were silent, with Johnny shuddering every now and then and wincing in even more pain. "You know... my name is Jonathon Sykes... what's yours?" For unknown reasons, Robin didn't hesitate to respond. "Richard Grayson." Johnny nodded slowly. "Almost woulda guessed... and it fits... ah... can't move my legs or arms..." "Your back is broken." Robin said.
Johnny shuddered again. "I figured that too. You know, I didn't start off a bad kid... but I went that way... matter of fact, none of us did." "None of... us?" Robin asked, confused. Johnny nodded. "The HIVE kids, Punk Rocket, Cheshire, me... we were all good kids, once upon a time.
"Can't believe that now we now lie, fight, steal... kill..." He said the last word ever so softly. "You killed, Johnny? I figured you just-" "Shot up the town? Yeah, can't blame you... remember the night when I shot up the town... and you broke your arm?" Johnny chuckled at that. "I shot a doctor that night... through the head. He deserved it too, I won't say otherwise."
Robin shook his head. "No one deserves death, Johnny." "You'll keep saying that, but I will not believe it." Johnny said, then he solemned more. "... Robin, make sure I'm buried somewhere good. I don't wanna be forgotten." "Shouldn't your friends take care of that?" Robin asked. Johnny didn't answer that question.
Johnny shivered again. "You know... I love someone... won't say her name, but I know she loves me back." Robin nodded again.
Johnny remained silent for the next thirty minutes, each breath getting shallower.
Then he said his last words- words that burrowed themselves into Robin's brain.
"She won't cry though, she's lost too much to care anymore. Neither will Punk Rocket, even though we've been buds since we first landed in jail. Billy and Kyd Wykkyd may have saved my ass multiple times and I may have saved theirs just as much, but they won't give two craps either...
Sad, isn't it? I'll die... and no one will cry."
His breath froze, his body stiffened and his eyes widened, and he said, "And no one will... cry..."
Johnny Rancid's eyes shut for the last time.
Two months afterward, Robin walked up to the side of the road where Johnny went off that night.
A small plaque had been set up, with fresh flowers next to it, with these words written on it:
JOHNNY SYKES DIED HERE.
HE DIED... AND WE ALL CRIED.
ANGELA, BAILEY, XILO, ELLIOT, WILLIAM, MIKRON, BARON, SEYMOUR, THOMAS, JADE, KATHERINE, AND KOMAND'R.
(… this is really, really sad.
But I had a crappy evening.
Bye, remember to review.)
