A/N: Character death, angst, drama, and some Repo! The Genetic Opera things (only the Zydrate). I am in no way profiting from this story, and do not own anything in it. Written for the Young Justice Challenges Forum, Learning the Hard Way. Enjoy, rate and review, and all of that good stuff.

"Damn it, Wally!" Dick screamed. The two were in the emergency wing of a private hospital that Bruce Wayne, also known as Dick's adopted father, had built. They had utter privacy at the moment. His friend was in a coma, all due to some stupid drug that somebody had thought up.

And that was when Dick broke down. He collapsed over his friend, trying to keep his smaller amount of weight off of his motionless friend. It was all his fault. He should've gone with him that night they went clubbing instead of trusting Wally to be a big boy and not get into trouble. And what had he done? Taken some second hand drug from a fictional movie.

"Zydrate, was it, Wally?" He murmured against the rough sheets. "You just had to take some, and then take some home with you to 'figure out the scientific qualities of it'. And what happened then? You got fucking hooked!" Sniffling, Robin stood up and managed to find a chair before he collapsed again. "You know why it doesn't make you feel a thing, brainiac? Because it fucking kills your brain and nerves! After that what does it do? Shuts down your organs." Robin hid his face in his hands. Here he was, sitting without his glasses or mask, crying like a fool because his friend was an idiot. "Didn't you stop to think things through?" He already knew the answer to that question.

No. Because Wally had never stopped for anything in his life, even before he recreated his uncle's science flop to become the Kid Flash.

More tears spilled over Dick's cheeks.

"What the fuck, man? You know I can't deal with this shit without you. I can't let another person I love slip away from me…" Orphaned and alone, he had chosen to go with the Batman to have a sense of family. Wally was like his brother, but after that one fateful night…

"Don't worry, Richie, I'll be fine!" Wally had ruffled his friend's hair before strutting off with the girls and guys that he had befriended in the few hours at the club. Dick couldn't help but feel the slightest twitch of jealousy ring in his mind. What the hell. He was just his friend, nothing more and nothing less. It didn't really matter to Dick what happened to Wally…. But it did.

Red clouded over Dick's eyes. He stood up abruptly, the chair tipping over as he did. His fist connected with the wall. He punched it over and over again, shattering the sheet rock that made it up. He went until his knuckles were raw, bloody, and about to show some bone. That's when the pain registered. He glanced over at the bed stand beside Wally's immobile body. Something was sticking out of the boy's pants… It looked like a small metal box. Robin withdrew it, clicking it open. And there it was.

The zydrate gun, and several vials full of the stuff.

"What was that rhyme that Wally used…. It goes into the gun like a battery, and the gun goes up against your anatomy…?" His mind was clouded. His numb fingers picked up one of the glass vials and plugged it into the steam punk looking gun. He straightened his arm, gripping the gun in his right hand and the safety bar of the bed in his left. He placed the gun up against his forearm and pulled the trigger.

He was floating. His body was tingly and light feeling. His mind was registering nothing but bliss.

When Dick came to, he was lying on a hard bed staring up into the faces of his friends, and Bruce Wayne.

"Dick, what were thinking?" Bruce scolded. M'gaan levitated the gun up into his line of sight. "Didn't I warn you about that? And didn't you learn anything from Wally?" Dick just groaned. His head felt like it was splitting open.

"Robin," Kal'dur murmured. "This might not be the best time to tell you this, but we must… Wally, he…. He died." Dick didn't know how to react to that. He just stared up at his Atlantian friend. Wally had what? He had… He couldn't have… He heard the heart rate monitor, bleeping away, right there, right….

It was his. It had increased dramatically. The beeping was furious, and Dick just wanted it to stop. The beeping continued, drowning out his friends', his family's, frantic cries. His arm shot up and grabbed the zydrate gun from the air, jabbing it into his neck. There was still a large amount of the drug inside of the gun. He then jammed it into his arm, sitting up quickly to follow that shot with one in his leg. And the sweet sweet bliss overtook him again.

Wally was there that time, smiling sadly at him.

Hey, Rob.

"Wally? Why do you sound so far away? I mean, you're standing right in front of me." Dick let out a strained chuckle. Did he fuck up?

Cause I'm dead, you goof. And you're not. You're supposed to learn from my mistakes. Good job with that, by the by. Wally's smile turned into a scowl. Dick, I fucked up. I admit it. I shouldn't have gone with those girls, and I definitely shouldn't have let them shoot me up with the first bit. But I was sick of feeling. You know what it feels like to be constantly moving, to want to slow down but can't because of some mutated thing in your brain? You feel so much, think so much, and do everything so much that you just want it to end. Dick was shocked to hear this from his friend. The speedster had seemed happy with his constant eating habits, being able to speed to places in the blink of an eye, and to solve complex math and science problems almost instantly. I just wanted to be normal again. Please, Robin…Richard… Stay alive, for me. Live the life that I could've lived, if I hadn't been so stupid.

"It's funny… I mean, you're admitting you made a mistake instead of trying to cover it up…" Fresh tears were brought to the younger boy's eyes by the use of his best friend calling him Richard. Even though it was his given name, he wasn't quite used to hearing it. "Heh… What am I going to do without you?" His voice was starting to break. He didn't like this at all. The peaceful oblivion that he had gone into was now becoming a hell. His body jerked with the sudden pain. He felt like he was being electrocuted. Wally phased in and out of view quickly.

Dick, I'm sorry… I just wish that I could've told you that…. And if only I had just….

"What?" Dick cried out. "Tell me what? If only you had just what?" More tears slid down Dick's stinging skin. What was going on? He didn't want this pain! He wanted to be with Wally, with his parents, living in the bliss he had lived in before all of this.

The articles in the papers the next month read as follows:

Richard "Dick" Wayne, dead at the age of 16. The autopsy showed large amounts of a new drug, titled Zydrate by the young people… Bruce Wayne unavailable for comment. Closed coffin private ceremony to be held…Burial is also a private affair… To be buried next to Wally West, a young man also found dead of Zydrate a few months back from Central City…