Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice. Sad but true.

A/N: This is not a full songfic. It has some lyrics put in, but only at the very beginning and end. The song is "Asleep" by Emily Browning. Also, this is rated M for mentions of Rape, Drugs, and Suicide.


Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
I'm tired and I
I want to go to bed

Since it happened he's felt so alone, like he's miles away from the rest of the world and it's so hard to get back, and it's even harder cause he's not himself anymore. He hasn't slept a single night. Can't close his eyes for fear of what he'll see. And he's grown so tired lately. Tired of being broken.

He can still feel it. Pale hands ghosting over his exposed flesh. Eyes taking him in. Devouring him. His secrets clear as day. He'd never felt so...exposed.

Hot breath on his neck, a soft tongue gliding across the tender skin. Hands ripping at his uniform, tearing it off him with violent need. His own screams echoing in agony as his body arched unwilling into the touch. He'd never felt so...betrayed.

Eyes, so soft-so achingly familiar, gleaming in the darkness. A perfectly flawless face-the face of an angel-looking down on him as he shattered into a thousand pieces. That voice...so perfect...ordering him.

"Scream for me!"

And he had. He'd screamed. He'd moaned. He'd made noises he'd never made before and each one pulled him further and further under. He couldn't stop the gasps of pleasure, mingling with sobs and cries of pain as it rushed him full force, and he'd never felt so...helpless.

He struggled as hard as he could, but in time he just...stopped. He froze. His body being bruised by the force. He still pleaded. Crying and sobbing. Tears slipping down his cheeks as he felt everything that he was slip away into nothingness. But he didn't really fight. Couldn't.

"Please stop!Please!OHGODSTOP!PLEASE!"

Then it had been over and he'd been left there. Sobbing into his bruised arms, body cold and exposed in some dank dark alley. He'd curled up into a ball, hoping to god that he would just die, because-OH GOD!-anything was better than this.

And that's how they'd found him. Kaldur and the others. They'd stared at his nude flesh, bruised and bitten. They'd stared at the tears on his face and he knew they could see it-the agony in his eyes-and he knew they knew what had happened. How could they not? It was so obvious. And They'd looked so shocked. But he knew. Knew that underneath the shock was disgust. And he-he'd never before in his life felt so...filthy.

They'd called for help while Wally tried to help him. To save him from the pain that had passed beyond physical so very long ago. He pleaded with him to say something. Anything. He didn't. Couldn't. He felt so far away. Like he was sinking into the ocean and drowning. All he could think was, why me? He'd never felt so...lost.

He'd gone numb all over by the time help had arrived and he'd been scooped up into Batman's firm arms. The physical pain was just a dull throb in the back of his mind as chocked sobs and horrified screams echoed inside, locked away just under the surface.

He could see that perfect face -leering at him-and feel those rough hands. Everything so familiar. Red hair. Soft eyes. All twisted. And then he saw himself. Pathetic and weak. Letting it happen. It was all his fault really and he'd never felt so...disgusted with himself.

He lets them tell him it wasn't his fault. Says he understands. Says they're right. Lets them think he's getting better. Healing.

"It's not your fault. He's the one to blame here, not you."

But he knows better.

"But it is my fault. I-I should have fought harder. It's not his fault. He wasn't himself. Not really."

And he can't stand it. Can't stand the person looking back in the mirror. So he just pretends not to notice and avoids the truth of what he sees. The broken shell he's become. The tattered remains of who he was before. Before-Before he...

"Drugs or not Roy raped you, you can't just hold that in! You need help. Please."

He can't stand it. Not anymore. The fear. The pain. The loneliness.

So he lies down, the small bottle clutched in his palm, and sighs. This is it. For the first time since it happened, he'll be able to sleep. No nightmares. Just...sleep.

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
And then leave me alon
e

Don't try to wake me in the morning
'Cause I will be gone

His eyes begin to drift closed and as the breath fades from his lungs he lets out a contented smile. He hasn't felt this...peaceful in so long and he's been so tired and broken, but now-maybe- he'll finally be whole again.

Don't feel bad for me
I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart
I will feel so glad to go...

Maybe he'll finally be Robin again.


Is it just me or is this really depressing? Just wondering. Anywho, please review and tell me what you think.