A/N: Oh look! Another angsty Dick one-shot! xP I started this after watching Darkest, 'cause I just had a lot of feels and I needed something to do with them, so I apologize if this is slightly overdone. Naturally, spoilers for Darkest.
The hell was he doing?
He sat in his apartment on the couch, leaning over a coffee table full of paperwork and mission reports. The words blurred and he blamed the headache he still had from the explosion. He probably had a concussion, but frankly, that was the least of his problems. Wally's words kept floating around in his mind, coinciding with the same words he'd been telling himself since the very beginning.
He ran his hands through his hair roughly. The sounds of the city below seemed louder than usual and his apartment's lighting seemed darker.
He grit his teeth, glaring down at the papers, as if forcing the words to become clear and undo everything that had happened. Everything was slowly slipping from his grasp. How the hell did Bruce do it? He had always made it seem so easy.
But wait, that wasn't right, it wasn't Bruce who strategized and sacrificed, it was Batman. He could almost hear that rumbling voice, telling him to get over it and move on with the mission, that all hope wasn't lost yet. It wasn't the voice he wanted to hear. He wanted Bruce's guidance, not the Dark Knight's.
Then why did the voice in his head make so much sense?
His eyes began to blur as his frustration and all of the pent up emotions he'd been holding built up. He didn't recognize himself. He didn't recognize his own thought process. What was happening?
The events leading up to this played in his mind on fast-forward. He saw every mistake, every little thing he could've done differently. He saw the pain in the eyes of his friends- no, his family –all caused by him. They'd never forgive him. He didn't even think he deserved to be forgiven. He had done something he had never, ever wanted to do; he had hurt those he cared about. And all for the sake of the mission.
Staring down at the papers, one word became clear in his mind: Failure.
He let out a frustrated cry, sweeping his arm out across the table, sending all of the papers flying. He couldn't care less about them. They were just meaningless papers, whose only purpose was to remind him of every repercussion that's come out of his actions.
He stood up jerkily, stepping easily around the table as he paced furiously. He was ruining lives. Kaldur was never going to be looked at the same by the others, Artemis was basically going to have to reintegrate herself into her own life. The morale of his friends had been broken.
Tim would never look at him the same. He was going to lose another brother. But that was fine. So long as Tim was alive and breathing, he could deal with Tim hating him.
He stopped pacing, freezing in front of a mirror on his wall. His hair was messy, as if he had just woken up. His eyes were wet with barely contained tears of frustration. He glared at his reflection.
A thought crossed his mind; would his parents be proud of him? Never before had he doubted that they would be, but now? Now he wasn't so sure. And that, in and of itself, killed him.
Suddenly, he couldn't stand the sight of himself. He pulled his arm back, forming a fist. He didn't even think before he sent it flying forward, crashing into the mirror and shattering it. He ignored the sting as small pieces of glass sliced into his skin and a slight trickle of blood began to flow from his fist.
He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the emotions, before giving in and falling to the ground. He brought his knees up to his chest and put his face in his bloody hand. He finally let the tears fall. It was all his fault; every ounce of pain in his friends' eyes, every little thing that had gone wrong.
And it was too late to take it all back.
A/N: I'm seriously scared for Dick, guys. ;_; There's no way he's going to come out of this cleanly. Anywho, review please! ;D