Death's Little Game
By
Angelina
A/N I do not do well with character death fics but I thought I was challenged to broaden my writing horizon. I am also awful with depressing material so be fore-warned!
Dick had watched his parents fall to their deaths at the young age of eight. He had seen countless innocent people perish at the hands of criminals. Death was part of the job description, each superhero knew this when they signed on. The Young Justice knew it when they signed on. But none of them were ready to deal with it, especially not Dick.
It all started with seven:
Kid Flash and M'ggan were lying unconscious. Aqualad was helping Robin to his feet, the unsteady boy leaning heavily on him for support. Superboy was extracting himself from a large pile of rubble.
That's when Robin heard it, an incessant ticking in the middle of the room. "Bomb!" he groaned as his knees buckled underneath him.
Superboy ran over to the bomb as fast as he could. Never in his wildest dream had Superboy thought that small red digits on a tiny display screen could make his blood run cold but these did. The display screen read nine seconds.
"How much time is left on it?" Aqualad hollered from where he was trying to keep Robin upright.
Eight seconds…
"Not enough." Superboy growled.
Seven seconds…
Superboy worked frantically to try and find the kill wire like Batman had showed them in one of their many training exercises.
Six seconds…
His hands finally found the wire but he felt his strength completely drain from his body as his hands came in contact with it. He didn't even have enough strength to pull the wire. 'Kryptonite' he cursed mentally.
Five seconds…
Taking his hands off the wires he immediately felt better but time was running out.
Four seconds…
Superboy knew in his heart what he had to do. He quickly gathered the bomb in his arms and looked back at his fellow superheroes. "Get out of here." He bellowed.
Three seconds…
"No Superboy, don't!" Aqualad yelled as he saw what his friend was going to do.
Two seconds…
Superboy gathered his last ounce of strength and jumped as high as he could, crashing through the roof, and sailing upwards over the warehouses far below.
One second…
Superboy closed his eyes, he knew what was coming. He had known it the moment that the crazy plan had formed in his mind. But he wasn't going to stand by and watch his friends die, not when there was something that he could do about it.
Thirty stories above the ground a deafening blast was heard as a fireball erupted in the sky.
And then there were six:
M'ggan was hurriedly getting all of her stuff in order and onto her bioship. News had come to the Justice League that trouble was brewing on Mars. J'onn and M'ggan were going to return to their home world to sort things out. She didn't know when she would be returning to Mount Justice so she was taking everything.
"What am I forgetting?" She mumbled to herself as she went over a quick inventory. She was supposed to be leaving Mount Justice five minutes earlier. "Hello Megan!" she exclaimed as she gave herself a small facepalm. She zoomed into the kitchen and returned with a cookbook under her arm, it had been a present from Superboy. She tried not to think of him as she set the book down with the rest of her stuff.
The team was waiting in the hanger to say goodbye to M'ggan, they hoped that she would be able to return soon but interworld troubles were unpredictable. M'ggan said a brief goodbye to all of them, pecking each of the boys on the cheek and then stepped onto her ship. "I will see you soon." She promised as the ship's door closed and it rose into the sky.
The three boys watched as it soared over Happy Harbor and went into camo mode.
The next day they received a communiqué from Batman telling them that the ship bearing Miss Martian and the Martian Manhunter had been shot down on the outskirts of Mars. There had been no survivors.
And then there were five:
The mission had seemed simple at first. It was supposed to have been your average run-of-the-mill recon mission. But it had gone so horribly wrong. They had been dropped in the Sahara desert to investigate and gather intel on Cobra's latest criminal scheme.
They had been expected, an ambush was waiting for them just over a rather large dune. Though they fought well they were quickly subdued. They were tortured for information and when none would give it up they were dumped in the middle of the desert, left for dead. They had managed to stumble along for a few miles before they collapsed again. By the time Batman found them it was too late for Aqualad. The Atlantean could not survive being in the desert for long periods of time and he had been out there far too long.
Batman sighed as he held the body, another young life lost.
And then there were four:
Wally and Dick kept the team going, they couldn't imagine what they would do if they stopped accepting missions. Missions were really all they had left, that and each other. Now days Kid Flash had stopped making jokes and Robin had gone completely silent, his creepy laughter vanishing into the night for good. They were both operating on auto-pilot. But at least they still had each other.
One day, however, the shell they had built around themselves after their friend's deaths shattered. Kid Flash was racing through the streets of Gotham as fast as his feet would carry him. A semi-conscious Robin was clasped tightly in his arms. A hail of bullets whizzed past them. Kid Flash was running as fast as he could but their pursuers were gaining ground. He knew he had to get them out of there but he was being run into a dead end, literally.
In his arms Kid Flash could feel Robin losing the battle to stay conscious. Kid Flash shook him roughly "Stay awake Rob!" he bellowed as blood from a gash on Robin's head flew out behind them. A wall loomed ahead and Kid Flash took a chance he knew was a long shot, but it was still the best chance they had. Putting on the last burst of speed that he had he ran up the side of the building. About five feet from the top Kid Flash felt a bullet pierce his back. The searing pain quickly spread throughout his whole body. With the last ounce of his strength he hurled Robin on to the top of the building. Then he was falling, falling into blackness. He squeezed his eyes shut and knew no more.
And then there were three:
Robin returned to being Batman's partner. Together they patrolled the streets of Gotham as they had done for four years before the creation and failure of the Young Justice. But everything was different now, Robin never spoke, never smiled, never showed emotions. He was becoming more and more like Batman every day. This greatly unnerved his mentor but he understood that it was the boy's way of coping with the death of his team and best friend.
But death was far from done with Dick, the boy who had managed to escape his clutches so many times.
One afternoon while Bruce was away on an out-of-country business trip Dick heard a crash and the breaking of glass somewhere on the floor below him. He quickly made his way down the stairs calling to Alfred to see what was going on. But the butler didn't respond to Dick's calls. Dick found him in the kitchen lying on the floor with a baking dish shattered next to him; the remains of lemon squares covered the kitchen floor. With worry rising rapidly in his chest Dick checked for signs of life from the old, faithful friend but found none. Alfred had died of a heart attack.
And then there were two:
The manor became increasingly quiet after that. Neither Bruce nor Dick spoke to each other and both retreated into their vigilante work.
And then one day the inevitable happened: Batman met his match. He went out in a real blaze of glory, literally. Batman had died when a bomb went off in a warehouse that he had been trapped in. In the old days Robin would have made some god awful joke with a few Holy!'s thrown in to make everyone feel better. But those were the old days. Now Robin watched as his father's coffin was lowered into the grave. His eyes were bloodshot but no tears spilled forth.
And then one was left alone:
Naturally he took on the mantle of Batman. But Dick made a darker Batman than anyone would ever have thought in their wildest dreams. Bruce had been driven by the death of his parents. Dick was being driven by a lifetime of training and the deaths of his parents, his team, Alfred, and now his mentor. Batman was darker than anyone had ever seen dark enough to make Gotham look like a shining beacon compared to Batman. Everyone was scared of him, no one got in his way.
The Justice League kicked him out shortly after Dick became Batman. But Batman didn't care about them anymore, Dick was an empty shell of his former self; the only thing that was keeping him going was his many years of training, and the hatred that he had fostered through all of his friend's deaths.
Batman didn't last long after that. They found him one night bleeding out in the streets of Gotham, broken. No one came to his funeral because no one was left. No one cared for Dick anymore, they were all gone.
A/N Reviews are always appreciated :)