I'm so sorry about how late this is. I hope it's alright. I didn't take the time to edit it, kind of in a hurry, so just ah, kind of go with it. One more memory chapter and then I think we'll pick back up again with the legitmate story. If it helps, I'm going to attempt to type it tonight. Ah, hope it's okay.
Dick's POV:
Some things, you just don't think about it. You recognize them, know them to be there, but you don't know anything more than the blunt fragments.
The ocean is salty because the rain breaks down rocks on the shore and those fragments seep down into the waves.
The sudden realization you have that at any moment, you could just stab your teacher to death with your pencil instead of finishing the Algebra homework is completely normal and called l'appel du vide, otherwise known as your brain's way of coping with stressful situations.
The reason some clouds seem to be resting on a glass ceiling on a sunny day is because they're lying on top of a layer in the atmosphere as they're floating along.
Stuff like that I can get behind. They make sense, the facts are solid and I don't really have to give it much more thought. It's there, I know it and everything's okay again. But then, there are some facts that I just can't get behind; the facts that no amount of proof will succeed in completely convincing me.
Like the fact that Conner is two years old.
When Megan mentioned it, I had promptly choked on my orange juice, Wally not falling too far behind, our movie hurriedly paused.
Two years ago, our team was formed when we broke into CADMUS and escaped with the very thing that had the full intention of killing us.
Two years ago, Conner had us in shackles while needles extracted our blood—and now we were planning to throw a party for him. I could almost laugh. Lucky for me, Wally was perfectly willing to.
As we planned it, laughs were shared round. There wasn't a soul among us who had properly celebrated a two year old's birthday. Artemis was the youngest, Kaldur had only worked with Atlanteans and he wasn't experienced with the youths, Wally only knew so much from his cousins, I was an only child and Megan knew only what the TV told her.
"He has the mindset of an eighteen year old," Kaldur had to remind Wally when we caught him with a baby book cracked open and upside down in front of his face.
The redhead spared him only a glance before putting on the biggest smirk I'd ever seen grace his lips.
"'Party hats are a surefire way to jazz up your child's birthday'," he read aloud, unable to keep from cracking up, swallowing hard past a laugh, "'Bibs are recommended for the birthday boy or birthday girl. It's their special day—they wouldn't want to get cake down their special outfits'."
At this point, he had to press his face into the book, giggling almost as hard as I was at even the thought of a Conner in a bright party hat and bib.
"Come on, guys, grow up!" Artemis tried to scold, but her voice gave a break with the slightest of a laugh.
I tried my best to sober up, biting my lip to try and seal my mouth shut.
"Let's be serious," she continued, a tone to her voice that had me off-guard from the moment she opened her mouth. "I was thinking about a theme… he loves monkeys, right?"
Kaldur and Megan didn't look as amused, but it was hard to see them through the tears that had welled, doubled over with the others and shrieking with laughter.
"G-Get him a... the monkey with the cymbals," Wally gasped out and I was about howling at the thought of Conner's face.
"Throw the party at the monkey exhibit," I barely breathed, feeling my lungs wheeze hungrily.
Artemis had to use the wall to support herself, laughing to the point she was silent except for the occasional gasp.
"Guys!" Megan cried, clearly frustrated as she gave a little huff, arms crossing over her chest.
She looked to Kaldur for support and he shrugged helplessly.
"Be mature," he backed her up before cracking a faint smile, "It would be so much easier to do a Curious George theme."
And like that, he was snickering along with us, leaving Megan to her frustrations alone.
"No, but really," Wally never lessened his hold on my shoulder, grinning growing excitedly at the thoughts brewing in his head, "We could go out a few miles, pitch some tents—get a big bonfire going…"
I about had to roll my eyes at his excitement, but it didn't sound too bad. A glance over to Megan had me a bit confused as to why she didn't seem as overly optimistic as she usually was.
"M'Gann?" my head tilted a bit and I frowned, using what I knew from Batman to try and get an explanation out of her.
The Martian gave a sheepish smile, brushing a loose red strand back behind her ear.
"I-I mean, I'd love to! I-It's just… susceptible to fire and all," she gave a small shrug.
Wally's grin almost literally dropped to the floor, eyes and lips pulled open because of it. I snickered.
"Oh. Yeah. Well… well… that's ah, it was a stupid idea anyway," he played off casually, shaking it off and brushing back his hair. "I mean, probably susceptible to that heat 'cause you're so hot."
Megan looked awkwardly away at that with a smile to match it and I gave him a punch to the shoulder.
"Weak, dude," I murmured and his shoulders slumped.
"So you punch me over it?" he retorted, rubbing his arm sorely.
Admittedly, I hung back in the hangar after everyone else headed in, standing with my back to the wall and my heart hammering almost painfully somewhere in the pit of my stomach. I'm not sure when it sank there, but I had a feeling it was sinking through my bowels at the moment from the way my insides were starting to ache.
"I'm dead," I whispered up to the high ceiling, raising my palms to cup my face.
Batman had put so much faith in me, training me from the time I was nine. All of that work, all of those late night sessions, those nights of sleep lost to trying to perfect a move or technique—wasted.
He had complete faith in me and I just… blew it.
I was supposed to lead this team. They were supposed to come to me like they came to him, with trust and willingness, and I just let him down.
I'm just a thirteen year old kid with circus experience and a cape. I have no powers. No abilities to set me apart from everyone else. I'm just a regular kid you'd snatch off the street—well, I'd hope you're not kidnapping children, but if so, I'll be chasing you down in a little bit—in a mask.
There was no hope of me leading the team from the start. Of course it'd be Kaldur. He's older, mature, responsible and put the team first. I'm… young and dumb, about as mature as a five year old and… "mission first, others second". From the second I faked a costume and saved Bruce from Tony Zucco, there was no hope.
I'm no one.
A no one in a mask.
I can't. I can't. I can't.
I barely felt my knees hit the floor.
It's not… I can't… Can't do this.
The air felt so much thicker and I had to put a lot of effort into something as simple as breathing, raising my hands to my neck and pressing my nails thick into the skin.
Too much. Too much. I need… need to… can't.
With the world already blackening around the edges, I shut my eyes, trying to just focus on breathing. My lungs felt paper thin and I just knew they were going to tear; it was just a matter of time.
Please… Please, I can't.
I started to sway and before I knew it, I hit the floor, a sharp spike of pain shooting up my nose. Moving was becoming less and less possible as tingles shot up my limbs. At this point, I was just gasping for air against the tile.
This can't be happening.
I don't remember the tears welling—I just remember feeling them pooled under my cheek, warm and sticky.
I should've been faster. I could've… I can't.
"Robin!" a voice sounded off in the distance—at least I think one did.
The world was distorted in my ears.
Just tell me they're okay. Please. Please…
A hand touched faint to my shoulder, a dull sensation, and I cracked my eyes open to try and see who it was. Now the world was paler, as if I was looking through thin parchment paper. There was red, I think.
"Robin, Robin? Can you hear me?" the voice was still distorted.
I blinked slowly, another tear joining the many, barely able to hear them over my own gasps for breath.
"Please," I couldn't get out, nails pressing deeper.
And then, I couldn't feel them. I pressed and I pressed, but I didn't feel them on my neck. There was something there, something soft, but it wasn't me. Whatever it was, it spanned between the blades of my shoulders over my heart and held steady.
"Thank you," the voice wasn't speaking to me, a sigh following, "Robin, it's okay."
A few blinks told me it had to be Megan there, gently pressing my fingers around her palm until she could lift one of my hands up, pressing my palm against something.
She's okay… are they… are they..?
"We're all okay, Robin," she promised, and I faintly became aware of a steady beat under my hand, "All of us. Kaldur's unconscious, but he's going to be alright. We're safe."
My heart gave a lurch, a happy one, but I still couldn't breathe. I was trying so hard, a faint smile tugging on my lips.
"That's right; every single one of us. You saved us… without super powers. This was all you."
I focused on her heart beat and she continued to assure me, speaking softly and grounding me with every unnecessary mention of my name until the world felt like a drunken blur—a blur that I could breathe in. She helped me set up, keeping my hand to her heart until I pulled it back to wipe my tears off with a small smile.
"Thank you," I got out with a shaky laugh and she pulled me to my feet, giving my hand a comforting squeeze.
I was never big on New Year's Eve and its celebrations, but standing here with everyone else in the watching tower, looking out over the world—I felt the hope of the planet in every little bit of the heart. People were happy, breathing and safe. People were falling in love and having fun, holding each other tight with big smiles. Best of all, they were alive.
I looked over to Wally with a small smirk, expecting some kind of movie reference, but at the strike of the clock, he had Artemis up in his arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. My smirk faded.
I was happy for him, I was. The tension between those two needed a chainsaw to hack apart, but… we can't afford attachments in this life. We can't be the people who are happy and safe; the people falling in love and having fun, holding each other tight with big smiles. We're supposed to keep the world safe so everyone else can.
A hand on my arm stopped my thoughts for a moment and before I knew it, Zatanna was kissing me. My heart went to my throat and my eyes widened, but I threw my care off into space and enjoyed life for a moment, hands sliding to her hips.
Maybe attachments weren't so bad after all.
I all but laughed, running back to the ledge at Wally's cry. For a moment, I actually considered leaving him there to hang over the scientists, but a look down to Kaldur reminded me what we were here to do. I leaned down and caught his arm, helping him up from the ledge, giving the yellow and red spandex a once over to make sure he hadn't cut himself in the botched rescue. It was almost disappointing to see he was okay.
Kaldur channeled the water from the fire hoses to lift himself up off the ground, tattoos glowing, as we headed back to rifle through the office and a pang of jealousy kicked through my ribcage.
"You ever wish you had powers?" I about asked Wally before catching the blur that made him up as he ran from cabinet to cabinet.
I settled for putting on a smile and investigating the computer's content.
"He'll come around," I tried to assure Megan at seeing her expression fall, leaning forward in the bioship chair.
Megan looked up to Conner before turning her eyes back to me.
"He doesn't seem to like me much," she admitted in a whisper.
Wally leaned forward in his seat with the ghost of a smirk.
"You guys remember he has super hearing, right?" he bit back a bigger smirk, pointing up to the mentioned clone slyly.
Superboy just stared forward. I swallowed hard, mind racing, before deciding now would be a great time to change the topic. I turned back to her, putting on a grin I'd learned from Gotham Academy.
"Hey, how's about showing us some Martian shape-shifting?" I offered, giving her a little nudge by lifting my eyebrows.
I didn't think she caught on until she got to her feet, a hopeful smile flickering over her lips as she made her way to the center bridge. All eyes were on her and she was quickly the spotlight. I wasn't sure what I expected, maybe some random civilian, but with a smirk that quick became identical to mine, I was staring at… myself.
Her skin almost seemed to reverse until she looked just like me—with the exception of boobs. A Rachel Grayson if there ever was one. I'm not sure I could grin much harder, especially after catching the grin on Wally's face. With a spin of her—my—boots, we were suddenly looking at a female version of Kid Flash. Willow West. And… I have to admit… she… looked good. He looked good.
It's not completely gay if he has boobs, I assured myself a few dozen times.
"Is it wrong that I think I'm hot?" Wally almost swooned.
His grin was probably the most pathetic thing I'd ever seen cross his face. I don't know how I managed back a laugh.
It was scary almost—beyond terrifying actually—standing with my back to the trembling concrete pillar as the others took to quickly falling with thundering crashes.
I had to ball up my fists and assure myself over and over again that the person toppling them was now on our side. Sure, seconds ago he had us up in shackles and was all for letting us become some lifeless meat suits, but he was fighting for us now. He was no more a monster than I was. This in itself wasn't a very reassuring statement.
He's a clone of Superman, I told myself with a deep breath, hoping it would help, before quickly rolling out the way in time for the pillar I was using as shelter to quickly crumble down and take out a section of the wall. At this point, if my heart hadn't beaten itself out, I was positive I was some kind of god.
Concrete and smoke rose every which way, but I could see him through the grays, with the help of the bright white of his outfit. This Super… boy… was on our side and he was going to save us, but he needed our help.
"Benefit of the doubt," I shook my head sharply and plunged into the smoke.
His photograph wrinkled from how tight I was holding it, but it was the closest I was going to get to holding Jason ever again. I didn't want to believe it. I wanted it to be a sick joke, a cruel little ploy he'd pulled to get us all sobbing just so he could pop out and call us pussies, but it had been a week now. Every bit of hope I'd had was there on his grave with the flowers that he would've called cliché.
I could've saved him. I just know I could've. If I had… If… I could've come to check on him and followed him there. He had had that look in his eyes—I could've asked what he'd been planning and maybe stopped him. Accompanied him.
A sob was quiet past my lips and I pressed his photo up to my chin, just holding it, watching the sunset through blurry eyes.
I've always wanted to carve this bird.
The Joker told me that so long ago, whipping out a pocket knife of all things with that moronic grin of his, waving it around like a toy.
It could've been me, and this could've been prevented. If I had let him get a little stab in here or there… I had to look pathetic, crying against a crumpled photo, but it wasn't enough to bring Jason back to make fun of me for it. Maybe I'd sit here until it was enough.
I circled the Cave a second time to be sure, brow furrowed before I approached Black Canary, fingers curled awkwardly at my sides.
"Have you… seen Kaldur?" I asked when I had her attention.
The bright of her eyes immediately dulled and I shrank back cautiously.
"He's… mourning Tula," she explained quietly and my heart fell under the same pattern of her eyes.
My gaze lowered, almost ashamed, and I bit my bottom lip softly.
"Right," I nodded, swallowing hard, bringing my hands together in front of me. "If you see him… tell him… there's a debriefing."
My voice trailed and I gave her a look, one she knew all too well, and nodded softly.
"Keep an eye on him," I requested softly, meeting her eyes again just before I turned toe, "We can't afford to lose him."
When the red mask was lifted, I knew it couldn't be anyone else. Stubble or not, I knew that stupid smirk anywhere.
"Dick," Jason snorted, using my name more as an adjective than anything.
At this point, I could care a lot less. I put every bit of strength I had into hugging him to my chest, squeezing as tight as physically possible without popping a lung or breaking a rib. I wasn't going to lose him this time. I wasn't going to lose him.
"You… you ass!" I spat out, ducking my face to lean against his head, pressing my fingers into his jacket when he gave the intent of leaving the embrace, "God, I missed you."
I had suspected, hoped, prayed—whatever you wanted to call it—for so long now. It hurt to be holding him like this, so close, to feel his heart beating and the breath leaving his lips. It felt even greater to hear him laugh.
"Not quite God yet, Grayson, but I appreciate the complicate," I could basically feel the smirk and I squeezed a little harder, earning a faint grunt of pain.
"Shut up," I laughed softly, reluctant to release him.
-F.J. III