It was a simple tradition—a duty-like procedure bestowed upon him when the Teen Titans formed: to patrol the halls at midnight. However, with this tradition, Robin found himself questioning his title. Leader, they called him and leader he wanted to be for them. He knew the title well: many supers looked up to Batman. Never did he know or expect what emotions would channel through this—this title. He was worried sick when a Titan was injured and often blamed himself for it. He would pace back and forth for hours, planning new attack forms and scheduling practices to ensure himself of his friends' strength—their safety as well. In his room where the only source of light flickered from a beaten lamp, he often lurked, rummaging through pages and pages of type-writer print, stamped onto newspapers. If he kept on top of the criminals, he kept his friends safe. It was his duty, he believed, and that what drove him to do it.
However, suspicion loomed inside when another emotion seemed to pull him from his cave of mind and into the company of his friends. Being with them was not a duty, he realized, but—but something more. He wanted to be with them. When he realized this, he stopped in his track and slowly caressed the place his heart bet. On his way to his room he was, but he turned around slowly, eyes wide, breaths small, and proceeded back to the common room where four bickered over what movie to watch. There, swooning at a beautiful girl's laugh, smirking at another's sarcasm, yelling over a robot's game station, and laughing at a green kid's blooper, he questioned himself once more. A leader he was, but what explained the other emotion? On and on, the question rattled inside his mind, overlapping into his midnight tradition.
Through the halls, he was careful not to awake the slumbering someones. Scanning every corner and hallway veiled in a moonlit lace, he went, soon to stop at each room. Robin checked on their conditions of three and proceeded onto the fourth. There, she seemed to be fine, probably head lazily slung off the end of her bed like she always fell asleep. He gave a slight grin. Time to move on, but he could not bring himself to. Instead, he found himself against the wall, sliding down to meet the floor. He looked at her doorway and thought about who he was to her—who he was to them all. Not only was he their leader, but he was their protector, yes? He did not have to be, but he wanted to. But why? His eyes went wide. Because he loved them.
