I don't know if this is against the rules of the 'contest', but being a big fan of P!nk, I heard her song "Beam Me Up" from her new album The Truth about Love and instantly tagged it to Dick, figuring there was nothing better I could do than try and incorporate it in. It might not work out, but there's not much else to do but try, right?
Disclaimer: The characters belong to DC, the song to P!nk.
#004: General: Drunk
Wally wasn't one to let business go unfinished, especially when the yellow of his cowl pieced itself perfectly into the nooks and crannies of his freckled face, but this one time was his exception as he vibrated his wrists from the silver of the cuffs that had held him water pipe and completely disregarded the fleeing stitch-work man to collapse beside his best friend.
"Robin!" he desperately cried, pulling out the compressor that the acrobat had forced between his own lips mere minutes ago and setting it between the ebony's front teeth, a hand anxiously running back through his hair.
The fourteen year old remained sprawled out along the concrete, not even the slightest twitch to his muscular frame, the panes over his eyes still held wide open as if they had been frozen that way with the blast of dark purple smoke he had been unable to hold his breath through. He moved his hand fast, securing his fingers around the black gloved palm, his other hand clamoring for a pulse with a heartbeat enough to drain him of every drop of energy as the adrenaline outpaced itself.
A sob nearly cut out his throat as he found one, a solid beat without hesitation, causing him to fly to his knees and scoop the bird from the ground, clutching him tightly to his chest. This wasn't the casual bridal style pose he would jokingly use just to bring out that cute little blush under the rims of those designer shades. This was the kind of hold you'd give the body of the newborn baby you had worked nine months to have, only to find out they died because of something that could've easily been prevented.
"I…" he tried to say, a hot burning welling in the base of his nose, a sharp flash burning at his eyes, feeling the tears attempt and push through his eyelashes like scrambling pedestrians against riot-shield bearing policemen.
He couldn't manage a word with more length than a small little gasp before he took off running, watching the small little half-pipe between the slightly blue-tinted lips give off little puffs of air, the chest ever so slowly rising and falling.
There's a whole 'nother conversation going on in a parallel universe where nothing breaks and nothing hurts
"This is my fault… I-I should've fought with you! You're s… you're so much more important… Bats' is gonna murder me! I'm gonna murder me!" the words tumbled out faster than the yellow boots, the blur of their costumes mixing with what of the world could be seen in the dim moonlight.
It was the fear that pushed him father, his teeth grinding tight together, eyes darting along the lawn around him for any sign of the team to get some help. The mental link had been down for a while, a bad sign in itself, but nothing could be anything worse than the unconscious body he was cradling close now.
"Why're you so nice, Robby..? Why couldn't you just let me take it…? Y-You knew my metabolism has the highest chance of forcing the effects through faster! I had the best chance of anyone at surviving this! You could've… You could be the one carrying me..." he struggled to keep his tears in, eyelids fluttering fast, needing to keep his eyes open so he wouldn't trip.
There's a waltz playing frozen in time, blades of grass on tiny bare feet
One blink came too fast though, one foot tripping over the other and time seemed to crawl by as the wounded bird attempted to fly up out of his arms up towards the cloudy heavens, his body spiraling a pain-staking slow pace to the already dewed-grass below. He bit the inside of his cheek a bit too rough, but he honestly couldn't care as his knees dropped to the green pieces of the lawn, running his toes quick as he could to dive and still manage to catch the ebony before he crushed to the ground.
The impact toppled him to where he lay flat, the auburn hair forced back by the cowl just barely grazing the red of the Kevlar uniform, his face pressed tight to the ground, but it didn't stop the watery smile from stretching his face. There was something he managed to do right, even if he messed that up too, crawling up to his knees again, looking softly down at Dick.
"I… I'm so sorry," he muttered, a trembling hand raising and peeling the domino mask from the pale features, nearly breaking down as the teen didn't fight the touch.
His navy eyes stared blindly up at the moonlight, the crescent shown along the edge of his pupil, chest still ever so slowly rising and falling, the compressor giving off little puffs of air every few seconds.
I look at you and you're looking at me
"Please… please be okay," Wally prayed desperately, watching the unmoving features with the biggest amount of hope he could manage, tearing his face away after a minute of watching the stone features.
One tear managed to slip down, much to his disapproval, quick to raise his hand and run the back of his hand against the droplet with a grimace, looking down at the unmoving frame shakily.
"I'd give anything…" he breathed, turning the watery gaze back up again.
His breath caught when he noticed the black pupils had moved, his own appearance glimmering back from the depths of the navy gaze. Nothing else had moved, nothing but his gaze, his chest still falling in its small intervals, eyes shutting just as slow before opening again. He had blinked. Wally grinned ear-to-ear, diving down and wrapping his best friend in one of the tightest hugs he could manage, a small vibration running along his frame from the sudden excitement spike.
Could you beam me up?
The teen didn't hug back, just sitting still until he reached up and pulled out the compressor, looking farther up at the ginger attached to him, swallowing roughly. His eyes didn't register recognition or even a lack of it, just the color and the lack of gleam to reflect on what little emotion he gave out. When Wally realized the affection wasn't returned, something Dick used to always do when he was sure there was no one else to look on them, he pulled back and looked into his friend's eyes.
It eased the pain, Wally recalled Dick telling him once after he had apologized for happily sweeping him off his feet at the success of a mission, he just didn't want anyone to know there was pain there in the first place.
Only a true friend, a best friend with more time in then the rest of the world had stacked up in store, would notice what he did, in saying it was such a little detail that maybe even the best of fangirls would slip up in said feat.
It was in his eyes, the regular dark of the navy holding just the slightest violet tinge stretched over the iris, delving deep into the slightly green tinted 'veins' woven throughout the pitched color, the outward flushing pale color once having born a 'baby' tint now a bit more purple in color than he'd like. The gas was in his systems. That had been a steady, up-front spray for a good ten-seconds… it was amazing he was able to even sit there!
"Dick, please don't worry… it's me… it's Wally… your best friend," he hushed quietly, his hands to the bare forearms, searching the unmoving features desperately.
The ebony swallowed hard, chin trembling, tears slowly starting to form that bore that same purple accent to their crystalline color. His eyes were there, but they weren't, swept off in the distance of a world only he could see that more broke his heart than scared him. The words of the ginger actually managed to protrude his sub-conscious though, adding just a little bit of a smile to his lips.
"I… I see them… mum… and… dad…" he breathed, barely even that, just his lips moving in the smallest of smiles, "T-… they're stuck… t-trapped… they tried to come down and s-see me… o-one last time… and… th-their wings… g-got… caught on… the entrance… I-I have to help them!"
Wally felt his heart drag the internal sharpening blade of a pocket sized pencil sharpener strongly along its wrists until a steady flood of blood bubbled to the surface. Its eyes welled with steady tears, overflowing with a single blink and a choky sob, watching the blood with the main pain aching at its center. Everything hurt without him having to lift a hand. To balance it out, he lifted his hands and crushed the fourteen year old tight to his chest, hard enough to hopefully be felt through the illusion.
"It's not real, Grayson. It's not real. They aren't there," he kept repeating himself, tears welling roughly again as his voice continuously grew in volume. "You have to listen to me! They're dead! They are skeletons encased in coffins six feet under the ground in Gotham Cemetery! They. Are. DEAD. Please, snap out of it!"
Dick sobbed quietly onto the ginger's shoulder, clutching blindly at anything, as if searching for confirmation that something was real in the illusion around him.
"Wally…" he gasped out, trying to close his eyes, but they just wouldn't close, "T-They're screaming… my name… It's my fault… I trapped them… I have to go up and save them… If you kill me… I-I can! I can get up… get up there…"
Wally went from clutching the body tight to his frame to the point they were basically molded into the same frame to shoving him back, fingers digging tightly into his forearms. Hard enough to bruise. To break. To be noticed.
A whimper of agony, of fear, tore through the chapped lips and jerked the ebony back, causing the noise to drag out as the grip tightened to try and aid the lessening of the distance in the navy gaze.
"Dick, if you say that again, I swear to God…" he growled out in the huskiest of voices, eyes narrowed to the thinnest of slits, grabbing onto the front of the black spandex cape around his neck and balling his hands into fists.
The ebony's gaze sincerely moved for the first time, violet tinted tears slowly coursing down his pale cheeks from where the domino mask had once lain, a trembling smile to his lips.
"You'll kill me? Good," he whispered with a small laugh, one so innocent and sweet that had once robbed Wally's heart of all the dark in the world. "That's what I need right now."
Gimme a minute? I don't know what I'd say in it… probably just stare there, happy just to be there holding your face
The ginger was trying so desperately to be angry, trembling in the effort to raise his palm and bring it sharply across the chiseled jaw until the sharp smacks would bring back his best friend, but the second he raised his hand from the bruising shoulders he faltered with a small gasp.
"I ... I won't kill you. They're not…" his voice shook and he pulled the little bird gently against his chest frame.
Hearing Dick laugh again, feeling his lips move against the shell of the covers to his ears to stretch up into a grin, one so happy and optimistic that it was near unrealistic.
"It would be just a minute, Wally… Just a minute! You kill me and I get up there… I-I see them… I… free them… a-and then I say goodbye… I tell them… I-I don't even know! I'd just… be so happy… to see them… one last time… You said it yourself… my best friend… so don't you want me happy?"
He gasped in surprise, eyes still foggy and distant off from the rest of the world, as he swept up off his feet and darkness was thrust over his eyes.
"What? No! NO! Wally, please! My mom and dad! They're stuck! I have to help them!" he protested, kicking, screaming, punching and doing whatever it is he could think of that would get him put down.
Now he was moving fast. The wind whipped at his face, bit hard at his cheeks and pulled rough on each bit of flesh, letting him know Wally was running. He was taking him away from his parents. They needed him, he saw them calling out for him with desperate eyes and outstretched pale fingers just like then, his broken name cradled into the curve of their lips. They looked so peaceful… the exact same as before the fall. He had to do something.
"I hate you! I hate you! I hope you trip and get impaled through the neck on a tree branch! Go overdose on pills! Cut yourself! Try running through a wall again! Shoot yourself! Drink yourself to death! Die!"
The grip to his side and beneath his knees tightened painfully, but it didn't slow him down in the slightest. It only seemed to encourage his shouts though, all the way up to where the tranquilizer dart in his fifth pocket third fold poked into his arm and knocked him to silence.
Could you beam me up?
Dick blinked calmly against the restraints as the flashlight was shone over his still violet tinted eyes, no emotion registering anywhere into the pale of his face as he swallowed past the latest spoonful of medicine.
"You should kill me," he suggested casually, only tensing a little as the IV needle pricked the vein in his wrist, glancing down at it. "I mean, you're a robot, so you could probably just touch my heart and electrocute me. It'd hurt, but you could donate my body to starving hobos. Or Wally. I know how hungry he gets sometimes and I've always felt safer with him."
Red Tornado wasn't allowed emotion, but he didn't seem to agree with the statement, lifting the washcloth from the ebony's forehead and running it under the ice water from the sink. When he assumed it would be cold, he pressed it out and folded it again, laying it back to the pale forehead.
"The Batman has it generally preset that I am not allowed to kill those associated with the Justice League without a good and proper reason," the animatronic monotoned easily, squeezing on the IV bag once before heading back to the array of items he had for disposal.
The ebony's lips didn't move in the slightest, a thin and peaceful line, facial muscles having relaxed as he let the cool of the washcloth soothe his mind.
"I have a good and proper reason though," he argued, lifting his head weakly as he heard distant footsteps, smiling as he recognized Batman's figure dark in his peripheral. "My parents are trapped and can't get back to heaven until I help free them, but I can't do that unless I die too. I have a mission to attend!"
The Dark Knight walked up, jaw set tightly as he put a hand to the teen's shoulder, his expression just as emotionless. Dick glanced up at him with those ever so slightly violet tones, offering the smallest of a smile as he tilted his head towards the man.
"Batman, you understand, right? Will you help me?" he asked so innocently.
Let me be lighter
The man stiffened a bit, running a gloved hand through her dark locks with a stiff inhale and a wobbly swallow to get the knot quick from his throat.
"Yes, I will help you, Robin. There's no need to kill you though. I've been working on some equipment with the help of Wayne Tech… we can get you that high… you don't need to die to save anyone…" he calmly trained the hair back as if there was gel lining his fingertips.
Dick shook his head though, not fighting the touch, distantly placed eyes directed Bruce's way though it was clear they stared far beyond him with a little chuckle.
"I used to think like that… think you had to get that high to see the angels… that's not it though. The world is thick. It's so dense and so thick that all the bad lines the top and only once you fade beneath the surface can you truly see the heavens. It's like the smoke they used on me, that's the real world… when it fades off, I'll be in heaven. I'll be light enough to see them again. Enough to save them. You just have to make me lighter!"
Batman had to turn his head away, his frown noticeably deepening, holding the teen's head still, keeping his arms still the best he could.
"Don't be daft," he said firmly, lifting his hand away, "That's just the toxins working your mind. You have to fight them."
I'm tired of being a fighter
The acrobat turned his eyes back towards the ceiling, not struggling for even a second against the bindings to his body, merely twitching as the IV was switched out for something a lot hotter. It rushed up his arm from the prick on his vein up through the rest of his body, a near sea of distant lava barely feet from his flesh with enough kick to still burn.
"I'm tired of fighting," he muttered, groaning as the liquid's effect grew hotter and hotter beneath his pale flesh. "I just want to go home…"
I think a minute's enough
The tears clung to his eyes desperately, digging in their claws, only one falling down as his eyelids were forced shut by the sudden onslaught of exhaustion. The worst part about it though, the part that forced Batman to turn on heel and walk away from the pain, was the sharp smile that quickly spread itself over the chapped lips of pure relief.
Just beam me up.
"Mom… Dad…" he choked out with his trademark giggle, his last words before his head lolled off and he fell unconscious on the examining table.
His black bangs lost the training Bruce had temporarily put them through were now grazing his forehead like a blanket, tucking his mind in peacefully to where the pain and fear couldn't touch him.
I love this song, okay! I wish I could do it grace, but I did my best and I should get a sticker for trying! Review?
-F.J. III