AN) Hey guys! Sorry for the delay! I went to rehearsal last night, walked in blaring 'What'd I Miss' from Hamilton like the nerd I am. I missed two weeks in a row, so people were surprised to see me. I killed my scenes though. I'm Violet. Violet Beruguard. It's Willy Wonka!
He was doubled over on the kitchen floor, shoulders shaking. They didn't know what to do. Willie was trying to get him to stop, wiping tears off his face. But Ray couldn't stop crying. He just knelt there, head in his hands, shouting out nonsense words. His brother holding onto his neck, arms around his back.
There it was again, the deep feeling of hatred. For himself, the gut wrenching helpless feeling he had. This had happened before—so many times.
He tried to get him to look up. Ignoring the pain in his knee, Dad had too much to drink.
"Barney, come on Barney." He shook him. He could hear the faint crying sounds from his curled up brother. "Dad's gonna hear and get mad again."
"Dad left Clint, just walked out the door." Barney growled. "Look what he did to you." He tenderly touched the new bruises. Clint flinched slightly. "I should've stopped him."
"You couldn't have done anything!" Clint protested, his older brother running a hand through his short blond hair.
"Yes I could've, I'm older, bigger, stronger. I'm supposed to protect you."
Older brothers were supposed to protect their younger brothers. Ray hadn't, he had tried so hard to keep Robin alive. Just like Barney had taken the blame for all the trouble Clint got into, like Barney had put himself between Clint and their dad. It was always Barney protecting Clint—so that night, when Clint protected Barney, the fear was real. Barney had to watch as Clint was hurt. He had felt guilty since he couldn't protect his baby brother. Maybe Robin would usually protect Ray, or maybe Willie protected them all—but now, the one-time where Robin protected both of them—the guilt and fear was real, since Robin wouldn't be coming back.
Clint sat there, trying to block out Ray crying. The teen wailed, suddenly grabbing onto Steve. The soldier slowly returned the hug. Bruce crouching down next to him with a gentle hand on his back.
"I-I'm sorry, I'm so—so sorry." He whimpered, staring straight into Steve's eyes. "Rob—please I'm sorry."
Steve held him even closer, Willie squeezing him insanely.
"Ray, come on." He lifted his freckled face to Bruce. "Do you have a training room?"
"Yeah."
"Can we use it? Please? It'll help him calm down." Bruce hesitated. But he nodded.
"You'll need adult supervision though."
"I'll go with them." Steve helped Ray stand, the poor kid's face was ashen white.
Willie draped his brother's arm over his shoulder. Ray leaning down and kissing his forehead. Willie blushed, nudging his brother with his hip.
"Let's train a bit. Run through the workout Rob set up for us." The freckled boy shrugged.
"N-No using it though." Ray demanded. "I-I'm never touching one of them again."
Willie froze, he panted slightly—tears in his eyes he looked up at his brother. Turning he faced Clint. His eyes said it all.
Look what you've done.
There was a sinking feeling in his gut as Steve and their wards excited, Willie moving stiffly, Ray almost melting on him.
"What'd I miss?" Tony slurred. He was in a grubby t-shirt, oil making his hair stick up at odd angles. Another long night in the lab for him.
"Ray had a meltdown." Tony flinched. "Steve's eyes must look like Robin's, he started crying uncontrollably."
"Where they off to now?"
Clint gulped before speaking. "Steve's taking them to the training room, letting R-Ray burn off some steam."
Tony nodded, filling up his coffee mug. He looked at his depressed teammate. "Man, this wasn't your fault. It was instinct, it was an accident."
"Tony he's dead!" Clint banged his hand on the table. Bruce and Tony froze, staring nervously at him. "Tony, he's like—eight!" Clint stood up. "He's never gone to high school, he's never gone on a date. Tony he never got to kiss a girl, Bruce he never got to go to college. God, he's gone!" He collapsed. Feeling arms wrap around him. He was overwhelmed by her scent. Nat, she run fingers through his hair. "All I've done is kill people! I've been controlled! I was the villain, I SHOT MY OWN BROTHER!"
"You're a hero." Tony demanded. "I've killed too, we do what we have to do to get the job done."
"This wasn't a job!" He roared, anger booming in his voice. "This wasn't a mission or anything, this was a young man's life! Tony, I killed someone else's brother. Ray, Willie—they lost their brother! When I shot Barney, I never left his side—he got better. I was able to hug him and—and….Ray held his brother as he died."
He brushed Nat off him, pacing around the kitchen. "What if you were there when your parents died…?"
"Stop." Tony growled.
"If you were there, you could've saved them." The coffee mug in his hand broke. "But you weren't, you couldn't have done anything." He looked reassuringly at his friend, Bruce practically holding him back until Tony got where Clint was going with this. "Ray was right there, he had the arrow out—he was trying to save Robin, and he couldn't. But he could've. You know the guilt you feel? That all of us feel? It's worse for Ray—a thousand times worse for Willie. Ray was there to do something, Willie was the reason his brother died. That guilt is killing them, and their just kids."
He sank back down in his chair, a stiff silence overtaking the room. Clint felt the gnawing grief in his stomach, he crossed his arms over it. Sighing, he tipped his head back, eyes closed. Robin was so little, but he was so strong. To save his brother—but he shouldn't have been in the position he was in in the first place.
"Who am I to play 'God'? Who are any of us?" He mumbled. "If we kill to get the job done, are we really doing the world a favor?"
Breakline
"Agent Newsome." He smiled politely, nodding at him. "Who's your little friend?"
"This is Christopher Malone." She taped his shoulder lightly. Robin nodded.
"Hey Chris," the agent offered his hand out, Robin gingerly shaking it. "I'm Agent Coulson."
"Hi." He whispered. Coulson giving the faintest smile, until he looked at his wrists.
"What's with the cuffs?"
"You're stupid director thinks I'm some sort of threat. I mean I am, but not unless you're a baddie." He clarified.
"Chris is one of the boys who got on the Helicarrier."
"Big whoop, you guys should try getting into the Watchtower. Can I talk about difficult? The zeta's scan for DNA, but first I had to get past my butler, then my dad's security system in the cave. Oh boy, hiding from a guy with x-ray vision and a telepath was sooo much harder than necessary."
He stopped rambling at the confusing looks he was getting. He smirked. "The security in this place is nothing compared to the Justice League's. I helped design it." He said proudly, Coulson giving a considerate note.
"Which is yeah, you'll be working with the tech department." Great Scott! How the heck to Fury sneak up on him?!
"A kid in the tech department? Are you sure that's the best idea?" Oh heck yeah it was! Rob could make some new weapons since that's taken all of his, and he could mess with the security system to escape.
"I'm an inventor." He rolled his eyes. "I work with Batman, we make our own gas pellets and grappling hooks. Green Arrow taught me how to make exploding arrows and Wonder Woman promised I could make a sword for my tenth birthday." He shrugged, giving the wicked grin he had shared with Nick to Coulson. "I should be okay."
Coulson still looked a little unconvinced, but before Robin could counter any more, a bubbling yawn burst out of him. He was tired, he just wanted to sleep.
"I'll take him to his quarters." Newsome gently grabbed his elbow.
"Peace Coulson." He gave a small wave from his cuffed hand.
Meredith walked him farther away from her boss, giving them a little privacy before he asked the question. She didn't know why, but it felt to her the Christopher wasn't his real name. He had called her 'Donna', most likely a friend from his world. And with his reluctance to share his name, he might not want many people to know about her either.
"Who's Donna?" She whispered. Chris flinched slightly, glancing up at her.
"…She's like my big sister. Wonder Woman's protégé, she's awesome." He smiled to himself. "Second protégé to be made public. Speedy was second, then KF."
"Who was first?"
"I was." He beamed. "I got to join when I was eight." He sounded so proud. "The League didn't like how little I was—thought I was too weak. Proved them wrong, kicked their butts and saved the world. No need to thank me."
He sounded so cocky, put it almost sounded fake. Like he was trying to hide behind his outgoing-ness to keep safe.
"I miss Donna, she had to go back to the island three weeks ago. We were supposed to meet up today, I'm glad we didn't. She would've gone all Amazon warrior on everyone after I…died."
"We'll get you back home. I promise."
He rolled his eyes, grumbling something under his breath. "Like Fury will give me away that easily."
"Director Fury is a good man." She couldn't help but defend him. "Sometimes he's just a little hard to understand."
He scoffed, pulling his arm away from her grip. "So he's like Lex Luthor. Gives a good face to the public, but runs his own agenda behind their backs. I don't like Luthor." There was venom in his gaze. "He's tried to have my dad killed, both in costume and as a civilian. I hate Alexander Joseph Luthor with a passion. He, Zucco and the Joker would be the ones I'd kill."
Her eyes widened slightly. To hear a nine-year-old talking about killing people was unsettling. Luckily for her, she reached the room she was supposed to drop him off in. With a harried goodbye, she all but shoved him in.
Robin rolled his eyes—he was done with this world and he'd only been there a day. And had been dead for most of it! Maybe that's while he was done, they killed him here.
His room was pretty basic. A cot like bed, a little lamp on a bedside table. There was a small dresser which on his inspection contained a few changes of clothes. What irked him was that the clothes looked like one's from a prison. S.H.I.E.L.D's symbol was printed on the sleeve of the shirt, and on the front above his heart as a security number. I reminded him of Arkham's prison ware. But his clothes were a dark nay blue instead of neon orange.
There was an IV drip set up next to his bed, and also a heart monitor. Pretty basic stuff. Robin didn't like them, the few times Alfred had to change to drip he had to sing the kitty song or Dick would have a panic attack.
He hummed it under his breath, as he checked for any bugs. There was one under the lamp shade—he gingerly picked it up.
"HI UNCLE NICK!" He screamed into it. Then, crushing it between his thumb and finger. He liked his privacy. There weren't any cameras inside, but there was one outside the door. Also, not air vents. There was a small one, maybe three inches big, where the floor met the wall—no way he could fit through there.
Robin shrugged and climbed in the bed, might as well sleep of the death lag.
He didn't know how long he was out, but when he woke up there was a sandwich sitting on his nightstand. White bread, no crusts, toasted with bananas in-between the Peanut Butter and the jelly. A small sticky note on the plate caught his eye.
'For the 'Big Deal'.
"Ha-ha-ha Fury." He growled, scooting the sandwich away. He hated it when baddies were sarcastic back. That was his job!
AN) Shot-out to IbeWildBella who drew art for Renegade! I love it Bella! Please update, Spot's begging me! Anyway, band camp starts Monday. It lasts two weeks. I get to stay in town but I'm crazy busy! Bye my fan friends!
