Author's Note:

HI EVERYONE~! So here's the BRAND NEW SERIES! EEEEPPPP! I hope everyone who has read my little drabbles from my other traught story is just as excited as I am to release this new series!

Ok everyone, I would suggest that you should go and read 'We'll Laugh About This Someday'. Its the little drabble/oneshot story that I had made right before this story. It may clear any confusment in you heads.

But if you decided against reading 'We'll Laugh About This Someday' then that's totally fine!

BUT BEFORE READING THIS STORY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FIRST GO AND READ 'CHAPTER 42' FROM 'ROBIN ONE-SHOTS' CHAPTER NAME 'WHY WOULD YOU HELP THE BAD GUY?' STORY WRITTEN BY 'BEARBERT'. THE STORY PLOT IS BASED AROUND THAT ONE CHAPTER.

DISCLAIMER: SINCE EVERYTHING ELSE IN MY A/N IS LIKE EITHER BOLDED, ITALICIZED, OR UNDERLINED, I'M GOING TO MAKE THE DISCLAIMER NORMAL *EXCLUDING THE CAPS LOCK*. I'M SO NOT TRAUGHT ABOUT THE FACT THAT I DON'T OWN THE DICK-TIONARY OR YOUNG JUSTICE OR THE JUSTICE LEAGUE. I'M SO NOT CRASHING THE MODE RIGHT NOW. THIS IS TOTALLY DIS-ASTEROUS. HEAVY ON THE DIS.

~Dick~

What's wrong with this world that makes us so... Indifferent towards each other? What makes us the people who we are today? Maybe it's love, maybe it's hate, maybe it's remorse, or even loss.

But I know what made me like this.

Ignorance. Death.

And perfect timing.

I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

That's why I'm like this.

Artemis~

What's wrong with them?

What makes them the people who they are today?

Was it something in the past? That's what made me like this.

I didn't ask for the mask and katanas. It was shoved into my hands.

But what makes them so... vile.

I'm just glad that the world isn't any crueler then it already is.

I'm like this because of perfect timing.

I was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

That's why I'm like this.

~Dick~

Going solo was the best thing I've ever done.

Slade could have a knife in his good eye and I would give a rat's ass. I'm sick and tired of his meddling. I'm an adult, I don't need anyone.

I lean back into my tattered and beat up mattress lying on the ground.

'Long day... Very long day."

I just finished some blood work for a billionaire in LA, wanted me to kill someone named Lauren Smith. I hate people with the last name of Smith... Of course it wasn't her actual name, but I don't give a fuck about that either. I got the money, that's all that matters.

"Dick! Get you lazy ass over here!" He yelled my name from the rooftop of our abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere.

"Shit... You can be an bastard sometimes..." I am not in the mood for anything. Traveling halfway across the world on foot - of course I took the jet part of the way, but still had to run from the east coast of America to the west coast - just to do a quick and quiet kill is not worth one mil. I have to put up higher standards...

"Get over here! Now!" I could hear his light footsteps on the tin metal roof.

I slowly get up off the mattress, the only time for comfort now gone...

I pick up my katanas on the ground and attach them to their holsters on my back. I walk over to the shattered window and pop my head out of it.

"What the hell do you want, Jase?" He bent over the ledge of the rooftop, "I think you should come check this out..." His face looked quite distraught, heavy on the dis.

I swing my legs up onto the window frame and jump up to the roof. I see the sunrise, or maybe the sunset of the day I thought I was going to be relaxing.

It's quite, too quite.

The sand on the desert doesn't move, nothing's out there. The cactus are the same, that's not different, but what bothers me is how the creatures of the desert aren't anywhere in sight. That's not normal.

I walk over to the front edge of the roof where Jase is standing. He looks terrified, Jase is never terrified.

"What did you see?" I demand from him, but he doesn't move a muscle, he stares ahead into the wasteland. "Jason!" I grab both his shoulders with my hands and shake him once.

"S-sorry... I thought I saw them." He looked me in the eyes, through his blood red domino mask, I could see his bright blue irises struck with fear.

He didn't need to explain to me who they were, our little 'run in' with them was enough excitement to last me a lifetime, and trust me, I've seen and done a lot of 'exciting' things.

"Are you positive you saw them? Are you sure your not traumatized? You went through a lot last week." I was truly worried about him, I wasn't lying when I said he went through a lot. He was beat up to a pulp.

"No, Dick, trust me on this, I am almost one hundred percent positive that they were there." He pointed out towards the dry land, the dirt rests quietly, undisturbed.

"No, Jason, you have to be one thousand percent sure on this one, there's no maybe." His white bangs fall into his face, he's sweaty and sticky, I can feel it under my hands that are still placed on his shoulders.

We live in the middle of nowhere, literally. This is actually our South America base located in the Sahara Desert. All of our home bases are hidden out of view and in the harshest environments. We don't want, or like, visitors.

"I'm sure."

"Ok, stay here. I'm going to check it out."

He nods his head once and I jump off the roof and land lightly on my feet. The dust kicks up around me.

There's no wind, no sound. I stay squatted on the dusty ground, my black spandex uniform turns tan in the dirt. I look left and right, something's off. I can sense it.

I stand straight up and move two steps forward. I don't get a chance to take another when I hear with my honed senses a bullet being shot. Upon instinct I pull my katana out of its holster on my back and bring it to my face deflecting the metal bullet that was intended to end my life.

More are being shot giving away the person's location. They're located on the left dune west of the long abandoned warehouse.

I deflect more bullets shot in my direction, it's some type of high caliber sniper, the shooter must be a thousand plus meters away.

"Run!" the sniper left me an opening, being able to at least turn around once and yell back at my little brother still hiding on the roof.

I can see his figure standing tall and the bullets start to fire at me again. I deflect them out of reflex and start to run back to the warehouse.

Our only chance to escape from them without getting killed is to take the jet. Its our best bet.

As I run back into the warehouse and fly up the rusting metal stairs leading to the roof, I can hear the bullets punching holes into the side of the building.

Soon enough I hear a break in the shooting followed by returning fire. I figured it must be Jase using the machine guns.

Jase is so dead after all this is over, I told him to run but he stayed.

As I burst through the doors, he turns around for a brief moment. His fifteen year old face looks at me for the last time.

Everything seems to move slowly, I remember my instincts going wild, I hear the bullets returning fire from behind the sand dunes.

I remember shouting out his name.

"Jase!"

I remember running towards him as fast as I could carry myself.

I remember getting shot in the leg twice, right shoulder once, and left forearm too. The pain didn't seem to bother me.

All I could think was when Jason looked back, I remember seeing the bullet flying. I remember it hitting his back with a sickening sound, I see it carve a hole through his stomach. I remember seeing the blood fly.

"No!"

Jase has a facial expression like none I have ever seen on his face before. It makes me die internally. I catch his body as it falls. The cacophony of bullets stop, and the ringing in my ears prevail.

I fall to my knees with his shaking body in my arms.

"Jason…"

He shakes viciously, his body is going into shock and there is nothing I can do for him but sit and stare. I evaluate his wounds and find a single bullet hole through his abdomen.

I was relieved to find that the bullet had exited his body cleanly. But that wasn't what worried me the worst.

His eyelids kept fluttering.

"Jason, Jason? Listen to me boy, breath. Just breath. Its going to be fine." I need to be calm. I can't create a negative environment, not now.

I slowly turn him over, I hold back the grimace that slowly rises.

I have seen so many gruesome things in my life, but seeing my litter brother like this tears me apart.

The entrance wound wasn't as clean as the exit wound. The bullet seemed to shred and grind his flesh unlike a normal bullet which would usually slice a clean hole.

My vision becomes blurry, I just remembered the amount of times I have been hit by the same bullets. I have four metal chuncks to prod out of my body later, but I can't worry about myself, I need to save Jase first.

I shake off the fatigue that is creeping up on me. I focus my energy and attention towards the boy dying in my arms.

Blood starts to rapidly flow out of the hole in his stomach. I turn him back over gently and I rip his leather jacket off. I tear his shirt down the center and I rip it in half. I ball it up and apply it to his bullet wound. I press down with both my hands and apply pressure.

Jase screams.

My heart cracks. Well, it would if I had one.

Fire burns in the back of my throat and the water puddles in my eyes. I'm not thinking thoroughly. I remind myself that I need to check for any hit vitals.

He only has one fatal wound and it's a hole an inch in diameter.

'He's going to die.'

I can't help but to think the worst. He's my only family. I can't loose him.

I pick him up in my arms and quickly run off the roof and land on my feet. I bend my knees so they will absorb the shock. I run across the desert with Jase's limp body flopping around in my arms.

I look back down at him.

"Stay with me Jason!"

I know it sounds dramatic, like something you'd see in a movie, but now I understand why people do it.

They do it not to reassure the dying person, they do it because it reassures them. They are unconsciously trying to tell themselves that everything is going to be ok when the loved one dies.

I realize now, more than ever, I might truly be alone.

After what feels like miles of running, I place Jase on the hot sand and I start to crawl on my hands and knees.

'Come on, come on, come on! Its over here. It has to be.'

I reach my arms out in front of me sweeping my hands around the burning sand and dust.

I feel something plastic and I pull it up. the huge brown tarp flies away in the now gusting winds.

I spare a glance behind me to where the warehouse is, its just one bad thing after another. Maybe the world wants to kill us off.

A huge sized dust storm is making its way towards us.

I look to where Jase lies and I know he's not going to make it if we stay here. But there's still no guarantee that we'll be able to leave without being caught in the dustbowl.

It takes me five precious seconds to figure out what I'm going to do.

I stand back up and run over to Jase, I pick him up and jump down into the huge rectangular shape hole in the ground.

The jet is parked nicely in its pocket. I jump up on the wing with Jase in my arms and I open the hood. I place him in the copilot seat and I hop into the pilot seat.

I close the hood and start the engine.

I feel my spandex starting to become wet, a thick, sticky, liquidy substance pools on my arms and legs. I'd rather not think about it, besides I need to focus on what's most important here.

The sandstorm has reached our location and I pull up on the throttle, it;s going to be difficult to manage the jet with the high winds, but I have to try.

The plane rises and I'm already having a hard time fighting the winds.

"ARRRRGGHHH!"

I look over to Jase, he's holding his abdomen, he somehow managed to keep pressure on the wound. The torn black shirt is soaked with red liquid.

"Hang on, Jase. It's going to be rough."

My body won't be able to handle much more either.

I pull up on the throttle as hard as I can. I'm afraid I'll tear the throttle from its wires.

The plane pulls upwards but is again caught in the whirlwinds.

I brace myself because we're going to blast our way out of the storm.

I flip switches, push buttons, double check everything before we are able to accelerate.

'Our only chance of surviving depends on this jet.'

I hate relying on technology to save my ass. I can't trust it.

I press the fatal button and everything seems to stretch. I feel my wounds opening, I can't bear to imagine how Jase feels at the moment.

The pain is unbearable, I can barely keep my eyes open.

All I remember after pushing the button was Jase's loud screams and the pain my body is receiving.

All went black shortly after.