A/N: I decided to pull this from my Bat Shorts stories and post this as a stand alone for a very important and devastating reason. I just received word that a cousin of mine had committed suicide. If you know someone who has committed suicide this story is done in memory of them.

Dick Grayson does a two-hour shift on the Friends Phone, a hot line on the Hudson University Campus where fellow students lend support to fellow students, whether it is just to hear a friendly voice or to help a troubled student through a difficult time. One night Dick Grayson receives a call that leaves him shaken and wishing he could have been able to do more.

Reference: Robin Issue #227 Story: I Think I'm Dead!

Friends Phone: Suicide

By

AJ

"Hello, this is the Friends Phone, can I help you?"

"No one can help me," the voice on the other line said despondently.

"Well . . . um what's the problem. I'm sure if you tell me . . ."

" . . . I can't do this any more," the voice said. "It's just hopeless."

"Nothing is hopeless. If you give me your name . . ."

" . . . I don't want to live . . ."

" . . . No, don't talk like that . . ."

" . . . I don't want to live . . ."

" . . . Please don't say such . . ."

BANG!

"Hello? HELLO! Oh my god," Dick Grayson said as he slowly put down the phone.

"Dick?" Russ asked his fellow "Friend Phone" helper. "You look like your best friend just died."

"Dick, you've gone pale," Tina stated. "What's wrong?"

"I . . . I . . . I need to get some air," Dick said. Dick got up and left the Friends Phone office, taking his briefcase.

"What's with him?" Russ asked.

"I don't know."

Dick Grayson left the building that housed the Friends Phone office. He almost ran into several students as he wandered across campus in a daze. He couldn't believe what he heard. Somehow, he made it back to his boarding house and realized he had left his VW bus parked on campus. He had to go back and move the vehicle before it was towed. His mind though replayed the last phone call, wishing if only he had been able to do more. The guy sounded so despondent, so alone. What would cause someone to go to such lengths as to end their life, their precious life.

'I've got to talk to Bruce,' he thought, 'Ask him if . . .'

For the moment, he wouldn't get that chance. Police sirens came closer and then he noticed his landlady Mrs. Higgins was standing outside crying. Dick watched as the police pulled up.

"Mrs Higgins," Dick approached, "What's going on?"

"Oh Mr. Grayson, it's just awful, just awful."

A New Carthage patrol car stopped in front of the Higgins Boarding house and an officer stepped out of the car.

"Did either one of you called about hearing a gun shot?"

'Gun shot?' Dick said then his eyes grew wide. 'The caller.'

"I called," Mrs. Higgins said. "The shot came from the upstairs, the room in the front and to the left."

'That's Jeff Thompson's room,' Dick said. 'Why didn't I recognize his voice?'

Dick followed the officer up to the second floor. His training as Robin told him that it was necessary. Sure enough, the caller had been Jeff. Dick could see the blood that had pooled around Jeff's head where the bullet had entered. The wall behind the young man was splattered with blood and brain matter from where the bullet had exited. With what he could see, Jeff had bought a small caliber handgun. Lying beside Jeff was the receiver from the phone, still off its hook, and buzzing.

"Looks like he made a call," the officer said. 'I wonder to whom."

"Um, I can answer that," Dick said.

"And who are you?"

"Richard Grayson, officer."

"So, what do you know about it?"

"I volunteer at the Friends Phone office on the campus at the University. I was the one who received the call."

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here," Dick answered. "My room is on the third floor in the back. I came home after . . ."

"Tell me what happened."

"As I said, I volunteer at the Friends Phone office on the campus. I work a two-hour shift once a week. I was near the end of that shift when a call came in." Dick explained how the person on the other line was despondent and he tried to get them to talk, but then heard the gun shot. "I . . . I didn't know what else to do."

"Sometimes there's nothing you can do. When a person is determined to take their own life they will."

"But why?" Dick asked.

"What do you mean?" the officer asked.

"Why did they take their own life? There's got to be a reason."

"They don't have to have a reason," the officer said. "I better call this in and send for the coroner."

Dick didn't accept the officer's explanation. There had to be something more than that. Jeff had been a likable guy. He didn't seem to be the despondent kind. What could have caused him so much pain as to take his own life?

"I think I'm going to go up to my room, Mrs. Higgins. Will you be okay by yourself?"

"Oh, you are such a caring boy," Mrs. Higgins said. "I should be fine."

Dick left his landlady and went to his room. He didn't have much time. He changed into his Robin uniform and silently entered Jeff's room. He did his own thorough search and found a few letters mixed in with Jeff's regular mail. The letters were not something he expected. They were hateful and seething. They hinted at things that only others would say in whispers. The last letter was the worst. It was so filled with hate Robin could not believe what he just read. Dropping the letters on top of the stack, he fled the scene, back to his own room, his chest heaving. He couldn't believe that ordinary people could have such venom in themselves, venom as to cause someone to take their own life. Not only that, the venomous words had come from Jeff's own father. Ripping off his mask, Robin became Dick Grayson again. His heart ached for the young man, and his eyes watered, threatening to spill. To say such things to your own child, the idea was anathema to him. Bruce would never say such things to him. He had always been encouraging, always gave him a reason, and helped him to understand the consequences of what might happen. The thought of not being there for Bruce, and Bruce not being available for him suddenly crashed down on Dick. Rather than writing Bruce a letter, Dick went to the hall and picked up the payphone. Putting in several quarters, he dialed the number.

"Wayne residents," Alfred answered.

"Alfred, it's me."

"Master Richard, how are you?"

"Alfred, I really need to speak to Bruce."

"What is it?"

"Please Alfred, it's important?"

"Of course Master Richard, we can talk another time."

"Um, the operator might break in and I don't have enough change."

"I'm sure Master Bruce will see that the charges are reversed when he learns that it's you calling and your need to speak with him."

"Thanks Alfred."

"One moment."

Dick waited for less than a minute when he heard his guardian's voice on the other line.

"Bruce," Dick started to say something when suddenly the tears came, "Um . . . I . . ."

"Dick is something wrong?"

"I . . . just need to . . . hear your voice."

"Dick, I've never known you to get homesick, what's going on? I can tell you're upset. You know you can talk to me."

"A friend of mine . . . " And Dick realized that Jeff had been his first friend when he arrived in New Carthage. "I lost a friend today. I tried to help him, but . . ."

"But what?" Bruce coaxed, his voice soothing and gentle.

"He committed suicide."

"Oh Dick, I'm really sorry. Please tell me what happened."

So, Dick told Bruce what happened, from when he got the phone call through the call center, hearing the gun-shot over the phone, and discovering when he got home, whom it was that took their own life. He also told Bruce about finding the letters in Jeff's room, and what they said.

"I never knew just how much words can hurt," Dick said. "I just realized that words can even kill. I'm just glad I can talk to you."

"You can call me any time, and I'm glad that you did."

"I . . . Bruce, there's one more thing," Dick stated. "I . . . I know we don't say this very often to each other but . . . I'm glad you took me in when my parents were killed. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there for me. I . . . love you."

There was silence only for a moment.

"I . . . love you too, Chum."

"See you at Christmas . . . Dad."

"See you at Christmas . . . son."