A/N: I know I need to update other stuff, but I've been having writer's block. I was scrolling through YJ Anon Meme. I had seen this prompt before and was hoping someone would fill it, but no one did and I actually had inspiration to. I hope you enjoy it!
"Don't cry, Bruce."
His head snapped up. He knew that voice, but it was much too young. He shook his head and looked back at the Batcomputer. His mind was playing tricks on him-grieving and longing for the past.
"This isn't a hallucination, Bruce."
He allowed himself to look at the figure, just to see him one last time. He was just as he had been when Young Justice was first formed: young and small and naive to the gruesome end he would endure in just a few years.
"Dick."
The boy smiled—not a smirk that he had rolled his eyes or joined in on so many times. It was sad and the figure looked as if he wanted to cry. Bruce could see the cave wall behind him. That wasn't how hallucinations worked, unless he was just imagining that he was seeing his son's ghost.
"I promise, Bruce. It's me. I had to—I had to say goodbye."
"Why are you...?"
He was supposed to be taller—muscular. He was supposed to be wearing the Nightwing costume. He wasn't supposed to be in his Robin costume. He had missed this version of his son. He had seemed so much darker lately, unhappier. He would never get the chance to ask why.
"I asked the same thing myself." The boy smiled ruefully. "Apparently, we appear at the age we were happiest at."
He was silent. He had been right. His son had been unhappier lately. He couldn't help but feel guilty. He had put so much responsibility on his son-leaving Gotham and the Team to him while he went to an intergalactic court to plead innocent. He had left his son to deal with an alien invasion, doing whatever he could to stop it.
"It's okay, Bruce." His son took a step closer, wrapping his arms around him.
He couldn't feel them.
He wrapped his own arms around his son, not caring if he couldn't actually feel the body. This was his chance to say what he needed to to his son.
"I'm sorry. I was too late."
"Never, Bruce. I just didn't wait long enough."
They didn't move for a long time, both just holding on as long as they could. They both knew it wouldn't last forever. The boy shuddered.
"It's time, Bruce."
They both let go, both looking at each other in regret: regret that the boy couldn't stay and regret that he didn't save his son in time.
"I will see you again."
He nodded, running his hand through hair he could no longer feel. The boy closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and smiling at him.
"I have to go now. Goodbye...Dad."
"Goodbye, son."
The boy's smile grew as his form shimmered and disappeared, leaving him alone once again. He sat there for a moment, still looking at the spot where his son had stood.
"Master Bruce, I really must insist you take a break. Master Tim is very worried."
He looked up and for the first time since Dick's death, his mouth quirked up into a small smile.
"You're right, Alfred. I think I'm going to check on Tim-see if he wants to watch a movie."
He got up and walked by his very confused friend. Alfred watched him, concerned but hopeful that he was starting to move on. Alfred followed after him, smiling softly.
With that, the cave was empty, but if anyone had been there to listen, they would have heard the echo of a young Robin cackling.
A/N: I don't quite like the ending, but it was the best I could do.
Reviews would be appreciated!
Love,
Browniesarethebest
