Triggers: Torture

Disclaimer: This show is not in my possession.

Indecision

A bright light burned behind his closed eyelids. With a groan, he blinked slowly; blood dripped into his left eye.

"Well, well, well," the Joker purred, snapping off the flashlight and slipping it into his jacket. "Baby Flash is finally awake. Did you have a nice nap?"

"Where's Artemis and Robin?" he snarled, memories of the mission flooding his mind. Batman had, reluctantly, transferred his territory to his protégé and friends, citing a League operation that had him preoccupied. It was supposed to be a simple drug bust, something that required only three people. Joker and his goons were never expected to be in cahoots with the gang-bangers, which is why the teens were taken by surprise and beaten so easily.

"Where are they?" Wally demanded through gritted teeth, absorbing his surroundings, one of Gotham's abandoned steel factories. Twisting against the metal chains that kept him bound to the wall, he shouted, "Tell me where they are!"

"Oh, calm down. They're here."

"Let me see them."

With a click of his tongue, Joker produced a stiletto blade and brought it to the speedster's cheek. "Are you really in a position to be ordering me around?" he inquired, voice dangerously low as scarlet stained his victim.

"Please let me see them," he pleaded weakly.

Patting the fresh injury, rough gloves irritating the enflamed flesh, the Joker smiled. "Well, since you asked so nicely…Bring the archer and the boy!"

Two henchmen entered, dragging Artemis and Robin. They stood beside their leader and presented their captives, shoving them to their knees. Deep gashes covered Artemis's stomach, and her mask was tattered, revealing a patchwork of dark blues and greens. Robin's nose was broken, and he was breathing heavily, practically gulping in air, as though his lungs were punctured.

"Ah, all they little sidekicks are back together again," the Joker cooed. "Happy now, Baby Flash?"

Mouth becoming painfully dry, he searched Robin's face for any indication that they were going to get out of this situation. There was nothing. Cocky smirk absent, his friend could barely even hold his head up, and Wally knew that there were no reinforcements on the way, no miraculous escape plan, no hope. Fear clawed at him, and he asked, "What are you going to do to us?"

With a small shrug, the clown mused, "Well, that all depends on you, my dear boy. You see, only one of them will live to escape with you."

"Wh-what?"

Passing the stiletto between his hands, the Joker explained, "You will choose which one of them lives and which one dies."

"No. I-I'm not doing that," he protested, swallowing hard, but not nearly enough to eliminate the lump in his throat. "Kill me."

"But where would the fun in that be?" he inquired. "Don't you understand that the thrill comes from you having to sacrifice one of your friends? It's funny, you see?" Approaching the speedster, he leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "You always have the power to determine someone's fate. You heroes are just too blind to realize that. Now, isn't it abundantly clear?" His laugh bounced loudly against the cold walls.

"I won't do it!" He jerked against the restraints, trying to vibrate through the heavy metal, praying to God, to anyone, because this can't be happening, this can't be happening…

"Ah, ah, ah," the Joker protested, returning to his other prisoners. "You have thirty seconds to decide which one lives, or they both die. Tick, tock, tick, tock."

"I, I can't, I can't…"

"Save her," Robin rasped, and Wally could imagine his sapphire eyes blazing with passion. "You have to save her."

"Save him!" Artemis protested. "You can't let him die! Gotham needs him, the Team needs him, damn it, Batman needs him! Please, Wally, think about it, please!"

"Don't pick me," Robin instructed weakly, and he was trying to smile his usual, trolling smile, but it looked just as shattered as he did. "Pick her. You have to pick her. You need her."

"Save him!"

"Save her."

"Five, four, three, two—"

"Artemis!" he shouted. "I pick Artemis."

"NO!" she shrieked. "Damn it, you can't!"

"Good choice," the Joker praised, grabbing Robin by the hair and jerking his head backwards. "I will enjoy this very much."

"No, don't you dare! Don't you dare! Stop it! Pick me! Jesus Christ, you freak! Don't you dare hurt him! Don't you fricking dare!"

"It's okay," Robin whispered, reaching out to give Artemis's hand a quick squeeze. "It's alright. I understand."

"I'm sorry," Wally choked, tears blurring his vision, breaking the world into a thousand fragmented pieces. "I'm so sorry."

With a flourish, the Joker brought the blade to Robin's neck, and Wally closed his eyes as the pieces fell apart, Artemis's scream and the Joker's cackle and a gurgling sound ringing in his ears, and his feet gave out from under him at the realization that Robin was dead, Dick Grayson was dead, his best friend was dead and it was all his fault—

Gasping, Wally sat up in bed, gripping his sheets so tightly that he couldn't even feel his fingers. After a few minutes, when his heartbeat was almost normal, he leaned against headboard and whispered, "It was just a dream, it was just a dream."

He wiped his eyes and stumbled to the bathroom. Shakily twisting the knob to the sink, he began splashing the water on his face, not caring that it went from freezing to blistering hot. Numb all over, inside and out, he lathered soap on his hands, and his nails left faded marks as he tried to clean himself. In near hysteria, he ripped off his shirt and began scrubbing away the blood, all the blood, clinging to him like a second skin. It wouldn't come off, though, it was still there, it would always be there because he sacrificed his best friend and because Dick lying with blinded eyes and a slit throat haunted his mind and because he knew that if he was ever faced with that situation in the real world, he would make that same decision.