Tell-Tale Heart
by TwinEnigma
AN: originally done as a response to the YJ-Anon-Meme. De-anoning like a boss.
Standard Disclaimer applies - I'm not DC, I don't own Young Justice or anyone therein.
Warnings: Spoilers for Failsafe.
It was his heart rate that tipped Robin off to the fact that something wasn't quite right.
Batman had trained him well in recognizing the signals his body was giving him. It was crucial to understanding his physical limits and how to push past them safely for the sake of The Mission. He knew when the burn of muscular strain was about to turn potentially injuring, how long he could hold air before he blacked out, and the differences between sprain, strain and broken just by the feel of it. And, at the moment and despite all evidence to the contrary, Robin's heart rate was consistent with that of his body at rest.
Logically, that meant he was actually lying down and that this was a nightmare or mental projection of some sort. He could potentially eliminate the dream theory, though, as there was a coherent progression of linear time from the first shots of the invasion to their current objective of reclaiming the Justice League headquarters. Added, there was consistent internal logic and it appeared that everyone was acting just as he'd have expected in this kind of situation – first denial, then anger and detachment as the full horror of the situation dawned on them – which put the ball into mental projection's court. A mental projection would certainly explain why the environment was so richly detailed, the escalation of events so linear, and why his heartbeat remained constantly at rest in spite of the demanding physical actions he was taking.
Except, he'd seen Artemis die. They all did. And it hurt bad because he couldn't do anything, none of them could, and he knew from the way his best friend was cursing and scouring the computer that Wally was cracking apart inside, clinging in denial to the vain hope that Artemis, his aunt Iris and uncle Barry were still alive. Aqualad did not mourn, though it was obvious he wanted to, but it was obvious that something had shifted in him and Robin wondered if maybe Aquaman had held him to some of the same promises that Batman had held Robin to. Superboy, in his own way, was handling the hope of the civilians in the only way he could, cushioning the blow to their hopes that came with his revelation that he wasn't the Boy Scout with assurances that they were here to help, because he saw that this was what they needed to keep fighting. M'gann, though, Robin could tell was struggling to keep it together, despite the fact that they had to keep going.
Every reaction was genuine, everything felt real, and it was getting worse, just like he'd expect it to in a situation where their best and brightest were taken out early on.
But his heartbeat never faltered, never changed.
It was weird.
All this running, all this grief, and everything, but no change.
It was a dream. It had to be a dream.
But now Aqualad was dead, Martian Manhunter was too injured and everyone was looking at him to lead.
His heart was steady.
How did one wake up from a dream anyway?
And all too quickly, Robin recalled the old wives tale that people always woke up before they died in dreams.
His plan was simple, suicidal, and he watched coldly as Superboy tried to assure them it was all right, because if he was right, then if any of them died, they'd wake up in the real world with the others.
"But what if you're wrong?" his brain asked him, sounding suspiciously like M'gann.
Robin closed his eyes, wrapped the belts of explosives around his chest, and stood, listening to the steady thumping of his heartbeat. He had to be right. Because this world, a world without everyone he'd come to care about, was wrong.
His pulse was still steady, even when the timer hit zero and his world exploded.
Robin sits up in Mount Justice, his friends groaning and waking all around him, and his heartbeat changes with the motion.
He has never been more relieved in his entire life.
Only later, when he wakes screaming, does he wonder:
What if I was wrong?