The words flew like bullets through my mind and left a bitter taste in my mouth. I am not, by any means, whelmed.
Only now as I lay on the brink of doom do I question these romanticized words. Heroes do in fact die. I, just like any other being, am merely flesh on bones. A material thing that is easily torn. Not torn- more like broken. The impact of the explosion sent me flinging to the hard concrete wall before plummeting down the 3 story drop. I'd laugh about it if I could; the irony of spending my last moments flying.
The only difference between you and I is I chose to play soldier, I guess. Treating my life as one would play a trivial game of Monopoly. A gamble that left me penniless regardless of the outcome, rewarding nonetheless. Did I value my life? I don't know. But I do value the people in it. I awkwardly press the button on my wrist that sends Bruce a "911" alert. He needs to be the one that finds me, his identity will be compromised if he isn't. He's sure in for a terrible surprise.
Alfred crosses my mind; this would really break his old heart. Upon hearing the news he will calmly excuse himself to his "quarters" and cry silently as he wonders when the last time he saw me was. It was exactly 30 days ago. Bruce's ever-present frown will deepen as he regrets every single time he made me feel inadequate. As his fist collides with the wall he will wish he told me how proud he is of me. I know he is, though. I know.
An involuntary wince shook my body as I attempt to turn over. My bones grind uncomfortably as I hear my pulse pounding through my ears. Definitely internally bleeding. I relax my shoulders on the concrete floor and I watch the stars glistening in the sky for the very last time. I don't have many regrets. Bruce gave me one hell of an incredible life. I've lived it well.
I hope this doesn't destroy Wally. Is this how Jason felt? I'm numb, so I'd hope so. I have a clear idea of how my parents felt now. My mind drifts to Tim. Here I was thinking him and I were finally connecting. He's no stranger to loss; I just hope this won't make him reach his breaking point. I don't want people crying over me.
I can practically feel their pain; it's vibrating through my entire body. That could be my broken hip, though. This doesn't feel real. I mean, I know it's real, it's just that this is all happening too fast. My breaths are getting shallow and I'm getting increasingly more tired. Tears are blurring my eyes and I'm not sure if I'm just sad or in physical pain. Probably both. I don't want my life to end like this. Circus acts always have some epic finale sequence; this doesn't live up to that at all. I don't want to die alone.
Maybe I shouldn't be thinking of it literally. Sometime long ago some self-centered so called "savior" decided that helping this merciless bitch we call life entitles us to immortality; that our memory would somehow live on, regardless the centuries that will pass. "Robin" and "Nightwing" will eventually become terms that make people quirk their heads and say, "Oh, whatever happened to him?" before forgetting me completely.
I go cold, and it isn't from the red mess pouring out of my temple. It was an epiphany to defeat all epiphanies. I come in terms with the fact that this world can't be saved after all. I could have taken down that villain, but another one will spur out of nowhere by tomorrow night. Regardless, I dedicated my life to a worthy cause.
My life has been a blur of chaos, loss, and love, and not many people get to say that. It's been an exhausting life, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. With that last reassuring thought, I allow myself to relish the victory of contradicting a phrase as old as time itself.
Heroes do die.