Umm... I was in a bad mood when I started this. SO that is why it is so depressing. I.. really don't like the ending, but.. meh.
I don't own Young Justice. If I did, we'd have Red Hood as a character already.
Tears streamed down his face as he struggled through the pouring rain.
Blood was pooling on the cold concrete, and being thinned by the large drops of cold water hitting the ground and splashing in the puddles of the life-sustaining substance. Nightwing raced towards where the leak of the warm red liquid originated.
He cried out when he found Tim's body.
"No.. No! Not again..." the young man, barely past boyhood, nearly screamed.
Gloved hands rushed out to cover the gaping wound in the boy's side.
"Hold on, Timmy. Bruce will be here soon, and everything will be alright. We'll patch you up, then everything will be okay. You just have to hold on..."
Nightwing felt terror clutch his heart when he couldn't hear the boy breathing. His own breathing nearly stopped when he checked the Robin's chest and could not find a heartbeat.
"Come on, Timmy, you can't be gone... This can't be happening again... Please don't go..."
The rain plastered Dick's raven locks to his pale face, but he took no notice of this. He was too busy clutching the body of his second little brother. He also took no notice to the blood starting to coat his costume.
As Nightwing hung onto Tim like a lifeline, memories started to cloud his brain so he could ignore the current situation. So he could just pretend he was in the past...
"Are you sure about this, Dick?"
Dick Grayson laughed at the young teen who looked down at him doubtfully.
"Of course I am, Timmy. Would I ever tell you to do something I thought was dangerous?"
Though Tim muttered a quiet 'Maybe' before doing so, the boy eventually took a deep breath and followed Dick's instructions perfectly.
As he watched his little brother preform a flawless flip on the trapeze he kept in the gym and land on the platform on the other side of the room, a large smiles graced his handsome features.
"Amazing job, Tim! I told you you could do it!"
The boy looked rather proud of himself as he climbed down the ladder.
"I really did well?"
Dick laughed, ruffling the Robin's ebony hair.
"Even if you hadn't, there was a net that would have caught you. I wouldn't make you do something that was actually dangerous. Plus, you did great, so you never had to worry."
The young, innocent laughter that followed as they left the gym only made the smile on Dick's face grow.
The blood was seeping through his costume and staining the skin below, but he didn't care, he couldn't care as his little brother lay dead in his arms... It was happening all over again...
Tim looked up from his browsing as Dick came towards him holding a thick novel behind his back.
"So, you found something you want me to read this summer?"
Smiling widely, Dick pulled the book out. Tim rose a thin eyebrow upon reading the title, then looked at Dick oddly.
"... Wuthering Heights?"
The young man looked disappointed in his little brother's reaction.
"Yes! It is a brilliant book with a tragic love story!"
"... Isn't it really for girls?"
Dick stared at him in shock for a moment before answering fiercely.
"Now you have to read it! You cannot just judge a story because it has a romance in it! I swear, I thought you would be above that..."
Tim rolled his eyes as he grabbed the book from Dick's hands.
"Fine, fine, I'll read it."
Leaning against one of the shelves, the older boy looked curiously at the book Tim had chosen for himself.
"So, what you pick?"
"1984."
Dick stared at him in shock for a moment, then started laughing like crazy. Tim looked very annoyed at the reaction.
"What's so funny?"
After taking a moment to calm down, he answered the question.
"You do realize that 1984 has much more... descriptive romance in it? Much worse than Wuthering Heights."
Taking the hint, Tim carefully placed the book down.
"Ehh... Maybe in a few years."
Deciding to just get the book Dick had chosen, Tim headed towards the check-out, his older brother nearly skipping behind him.
Where the hell was Bruce... He was supposed to be here, watching Tim's back. Where was Batman when that bullet had somehow found the one weak point in Robin's costume, embedding itself in his skin, digging into his flesh and leaving a gaping wound in its wake? Why was it that Dick was the only one still there to find his little brother dead at his feet?
He couldn't be gone... Tim just couldn't be gone... He had already lost one little brother, he couldn't lose another...
As Dick's mind almost delved him even deeper into the past, an eerily familiar voice cut through the air, stop any movement the young hero was about to do, even stopping his breathing.
"How could you let another go?"
Dick was sure he would never hear that voice again. He was certain that it was impossible for him to ever hear that snarky, disrespectful, yet still sometimes caring voice ever again.
Yet, somehow he was.
"J-Jaybird?"
"How could you let another die?"
Dick looked around desperately, trying to find the source of his lost brother's voice. He saw nothing except for the rain and the still body he held in his arms.
However, when he looked back down at Tim's still face, he was horrified to see it had changed. He was not looking at the face of Tim Drake.
Glaring up at him was now Jason Todd.
"How could you let another die, Dick?"
The lips on the body had not moved, yet Dick could tell the voice came from it.
Except, that was impossible. Jason was dead, gone, he could not transform from the body of Tim and yell at him...
"How could you let another die, Dick?"
That voice, it just brought back so many memories that he just did not want to face.
"I-I'm sorry, Jay..."
Looking down again, the face was back to being Tim, with the mask fallen off his face and his dark blue eyes closed, almost as if he was sleeping... Just like how Jason had been...
Suddenly, Dick Grayson shot up in bed, covered in sweat and panting heavily. The young man looked around, and realized he was in his room. There was the same picture of him and Bruce on the dresser, the same poster of his family's performance on the wall, he could even see his hidden box of pictures of Jason from where he lay, on his own bed.
Was it only a dream? It had felt far too real for it to be only that, and it was completely possible that he had been knocked out and later found by Bruce, and put in his room. He didn't want that to be the case, though he sort of suspected it to be.
Then he heard a voice outside his door.
"Hey Dick, you okay? You screamed, and kind of woke up the whole manor... I think Bruce is muttering about finding a way to punish an eighteen-year-old for waking up their guardians at two in the morning..."
Dick jumped out of bed, swung the door open, and hugged the surprised Tim on the other side.
"Umm... Dick, is there any reason you're hugging me?"
"I want to hug you?"
"... You're weird, Dick."
The young man did not care that Tim had just sort of insulted him. He only cared that the boy he considered his little brother was not dead.
... I still am not fond of that ending... Whatever...
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