As Robin lifted his droopy lids, his mind felt slightly groggy, as though fog had crept into the recesses of his brain. He sat up slowly, still confused, for no reason at all.
"Good morning Sir," said a sedate voice, a voice that seemed to echo through the small white room. As he grasped the fact that he wasn't in his own room, in his own bed, in the Tower, confusion overcame him yet again.
Through sheer force of will, Robin forced himself to regain clarity of mind, cutting away the effects the (of what he now realized must be) drugs. "Who is there!" He almost raising his voice, acknowledging the padded shackles around his ankles and wrists. "Where am I, what is this place?" He demanded of the figure, still in the shadow of the door.
"Sir, please allow me to explain. Your name is Mr. Charles Riley Serturner," the orderly stated as he stepped out from the shadows. Robin knew something was up, his name was...Dick? He couldn't remember! "Sir, you have advanced Alzheimer's disease."
"What, are you crazy. I am Robin, the leader of the Teen Titans, and I demand that you release me. My name isn't Charles, it's...it's -" he stopped dead. The orderly had taken a hand mirror from his pocket and swiftly put it in front of Robin's face.
Robin's shriek of agony reverberated around the entire hospital, gently dying down, as he sunk his aged face into his wrinkly, old hands; and wept.
The orderly came back with breakfast on a serving tray. It included green mush, blue mush, some odd looking brown mush, and about two dozen pills. Each could have choked a dog, by the look of them.
"I know this is hard to accept, but we go through this every day Sir. You always claim to be the legendary Robin, Batman's side-k -" he broke off as Robin hurled the food tray against the wall, in a blazing fury.
"I am not his lackey! He does not control me!" He spewed with such vehemence, never before had the orderly seen the like, that he slowly backed away from his sickly, old patient.
"I...I'm s-s-sorry," stammered the young orderly, "I d-d-didn't realize." His apology went unheard as Robin fell into a tide of his own thoughts. Just yesterday, he had been tracking down the latest criminal with the help of his friends: Starfire, Beastboy, Cyborg, and Raven. Now this man was telling him that he was an old man with Alzheimer's. It was almost too incredible to believe, almost.
An eternity later, the orderly awoke him from his stupor, with a small shoe box in hand.
"These are all of your personal effects, the doctor recommends that you look at them every day, so as to try and remember." Robin grudgingly took the box from his hands. As he opened it, the first thing that he noticed was that there was a picture of a couple at a
wedding alter. They looked to be in their early twenties. One with short brown hair, the other, a tall lanky-legged bride. It was a picture from behind, so he could not see their faces. The next picture under it knocked the wind out of him. It was him and Star, getting married!
He looked on in amazement, at his older (although truthfully younger) appearance. But his gaze barely lingered on his own face, and quickly moved to that of his bride, Starfire. Something in his chest constricted painfully. He had no reasonable explanation, except for the obvious. Even if he didn't remember her, his heart did. A silent tear rolled down his cheek as he brushed a withered fingertip over the contours of her face.
"That was your wife, Mrs. Julia Serturner, Sir. You were married at the age of twenty three, and were married for forty nine years. She passed from a virus fifteen years ago. That is when you started showing severe signs of your...condition." He said awkwardly, even though the sentimentality was pointless.
There was another picture that he turned to next. It was of the Titans, all standing on top of a defeated Cinder Block. Cyborg was making a muscle, while Beastboy put up bunny ears over Raven's sullen looking face. And Star was lightly tilting her head, a flush on her face, onto a smiling Robin's shoulder. He remembered that, it was only just a short while ago for his mind.
He caught a faint aroma. It was uncannily familiar, and strangely exciting and depressing at the same time. It was a photo of Star, underneath the last one. She was older than he remembered now, and she was blowing him a kiss, and there was an odd looking leaf sewn into the bottom of the picture. He gently allowed the intoxicating aroma to permeate itself throughout his mind. It smelled like Starfire. It was a leaf from Star's home world. He remembered that she always wore some of these leaves, while they were from the plant
in bloom, in her hair; placed so that you could barely detect them, even if you were right behind her. The smell gave him pangs that ran so deep, he knew not if they would ever stop. He caressed the picture and tasted its scent as he tried in vain to reminisce of the life he once had with her; gladly sinking into blissful reverie.
After returning to reality yet again, he focused on the last item within the box. I was an old, folded letter, stained yellow by the flow of time. He opened it carefully, so as not to rip it before he could read its contents.
It was addressed to Star, and the handwriting was indeed his own. It took him no longer than two lines to realize that it was a love letter he had written her, along with a poem. A shoddy one, one that only a novice would have been able to come up with, but still meaningful. In this letter he professed his deep and abiding love for her even though, he noticed, the letter was dated not long after when he remembered "yesterday" being. This must mean that this had been the conveyance of his first true feelings towards her. Had she replied back with love? He assumed so, considering their marriage for almost five decades.
As he finished the letter, he threw the old box on the far side of the bed. As it landed, there was a subtle scratch that came from the box as it lay still on the floor. When he had finally labored his tired old body to retrieve it, he saw that a side had come off the inside of the shoe box. In the box was a flat disk, the kind that you record videos on.
"Put this on for me," Robin yelled to the orderly, waiting outside.
The picture started with his wedding. All the Titans, and many other super heroes were gathered in celebration, as Star cut the cake, and hand fed the first piece to me; kissing away the little smear that was left on my mouth.
The next scene confused me a bit at first. I saw an older Starfire with a tiny baby in her arms, crooning it as it gripped her tiny finger. Tears sprung to his eyes, because he couldn't even remember his own child. He wept for all those years lost.
The next several clips were of him asking her for a reply to something. At first he didn't grasp what it was. But soon, he realized, that it was his question in the love letter that he had sent her.
"Do you love me too?" rang out in his mind, as he remembered. Remembered! She always avoided the answer.
For as long as her knew her, she never said those words, "I love you."
But, they both knew that they loved each other and they had played this little game throughout the years. He remembered this, he would always remember this.
It was the final scene; They were both old now, and Star was looking very ill, lying in the bed next to him. He gripped her hand tightly in his.
"Well?"
"Not yet."
Starfire's eyes lay still, staring into nothingness, as I gently closed her lids and kissed her one last time.
Do I get an answer yet?
The End
I dedicate this (pathetically) short story to someone special. If you receive this, I really would like that answer right about now...but I can wait.
Yours Exclusively,
I.L.M.S