Death wasn't kind. He knew that. Death was unfazed by whether it takes a young boy's soul or an old man's. Death took everything he had. Took his family. And now, it came back to collect the last boy he left behind. He expected this day to come.
What he did not expect was how it felt like to die. Was this how Jason felt?
A mixture of pain, sorrow and serenity engulfed his mind and body. His body was slowly failing him as his blood poured down from his wounds to the hard concrete floor and washed itself away into the nearby drain. The air was foul of dried blood and the stench of trash. There the black-haired individual was, body deprived of life and slumped along a building that connected to the floor. His domino mask was ripped away from his face and now it laid on the ground beside the broken body. Everything was hurting. Especially his heart.
His minutes were numbered and all he thought was how he was going to die in a dirty, rubbish filled alleyway. Yet it seemed so peaceful at the moment. The stillness in the air and how the sound of cars passing by the dimly lit alley was the only noise he heard other than his shallow breaths. A wet cough erupted from his mouth and he cringed from the absolute pain.
He let his mind ponder. Would anyone mourn for his death? Wally? Tim? Alfred? How about Bruce? He didn't need to answer the question. He had only hoped that they remain happy and safe. The people he love and used to love, he wanted to tell them how he cared for them. He only wish he had ws that nobody would end up with a life like himself. That's all he wanted.
He had given everything to this world and its inhabitants. He gave life to the world that gave him sorrow. The world treated him badly no matter what he did. He saved the world so many times. He forced himself the responsibility to wear the black and blue kevlar suit every night to save people. He gave up his life but the world didn't give him what he deserved. That was the reality that Dick had accepted as he grew up. There was no happiness in the world. Happiness was temporary bursts at a time but throughout his life, it had been nothing but pain.
It had been awhile since his blood-covered phone slipped away from his shaking hand. His hand was too weak to hold it beside his ear anymore. The small voice coming from the phone was put on mute ears as his heart broke. It was his time and he knew it well. He had avoided death one so many times that it was bound to happen eventually. He knew that this time, nobody was going to save him in time. Not even the man shouting through the phone for the boy to answer. He had nothing else to say to the man on the phone. He had already told him how sorry he was and how he failed. And now that he was satisfied giving his goodbyes, he let his phone fall to the ground. A last gift to the man so that he doesn't have to listen to his son die a slow death. A sob escaped his lip; forcing himself to accept his long-due fate.
He stared at the stars and how they still shined under the darkness of the sky. He didn't know how long he had been there. All he knew was that he was there long enough to watch the sky turn from a pinkish hue to a dark blue tone. And when the moon decided to announce its presence, a deep contrast with the sky with millions of stars following.
The stars. Million of miles away and yet they made themselves known to the living things on earth. Even stars die off eventually. Even as his blue cerulean eyes stopped shining. Even if they stopped seeing the stars for what they really are, those bright lights continued to shine for him. Bringing light for him as his soul wandered off from his body. Death welcomed the broken soul into its embrace and the world darkened as it mourned for the lost of a hero.
And somewhere on the other side of the continent, Bruce wails for the loss of his son as he discards the phone on the table.