Sometimes if you look at the clouds right, you'll see animals. If you look at a patterned wallpaper right, you'll see bodies. If you look into a bunch of trees right, you'll see faces. Why? Our brains are constantly forming intelligible shapes from unintelligible masses. It's a way of processing information that would otherwise be a muddle.
The same is true of constellations. Early astronomers even on Azarath would look into the stars and form shapes from them, labeling them for future study and amusement. They took pleasure in creating their own living art from the alignment of the celestial bodies; in fact, there was seemingly nothing they couldn't find in the stars. They found anything from towering gods to the tiniest of insects. They even found my future there.
I wish I could read the stars like my keepers could. My books speak of methods to distinguish their colors and shapes to determine meaning, but it's nothing compared to the knowledge of the monks. They showed me my future in the stars when I was very young... and from then on, I wanted little to do with those lights.
Until very recently.
Starfire is back. She took a flight—not through air, but through time, shooting past 20 years of our future and ending up somewhere even I am unable to see. She spoke of strange things, things I had only ever imagined would really take place. Sometimes I pictured the team being separated, and sometimes I even pictured myself giving in. But hearing it as fact from the lips of her, the innocent Tamaranian, was almost too surreal to process. It didn't even dawn on me until a few moments ago.
... my friends are all I have.
My powers, my emotions... even my mind is unstable, ready at any moment to be consumed by that which haunts me continuously. Nightwing may have done well in the future, but without my friends, I won't. Beast Boy won't. Cyborg won't. Starfire won't.
Is Robin the only one on the team deliberately separated enough to endure losing his dearest friends-- and by choice at that? Is he the only one who can be independent and still succeed no matter what he puts his hand to? Is he the only one to carry on with hope that no matter what happens, something good will always come to those who seek it? Is he the only perfect hero? Going thoughtlessly into battle, saving the innocent, facing even his worst fears with a stubborn voracity even they can't possess... is he the only one?
Will there ever be another?
He is the one in whose presence injustice cowers. Darkness trembles at his very name, and fear is his ally. Somehow or another, he lives it. He lives with the vision of what he will become, knowing his limitations and still disbelieving them. He feeds from the insults of his enemies, constantly molding himself to become immortal in their eyes. Never once does he consider himself good enough for this task. But the rest of us know better.
I wish I could read the stars. I wish I could look into them and see him those 20 years from now. See him in his tragic struggle, sacrificing his life for the impossible vision of complete justice. And I want to see myself with him. Because I might be unstable, and I might not be able to keep even my sanity on my own... but I believe he has strength enough for both of us. Both of us and the world.
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Just a quick little something I did off the fly yesterday. Hope you liked! Please review!