Wow…I guess I made a lot of people confused…(Blushes.) I realize that I left you all hanging…and extremely puzzled because a ton of you were like, "What the heck? How can Robin die, he's the main character?"
An excellent point—which is why this story is not quite over yet. This chapter explains what happens, plus it tells us why a series will follow this fic (Apparently a lot of you were keen on the idea of continuing stories—hurrah!) So:
Many of you were curious about the song, "Numb," and Remix17 asked where I had heard it before; I'm a pretty big fan of Linkin Park (and it seems that a lot of others are too!) though believe it or not, I heard the encore to "Numb," before the original version. I decided to look it up though, and I liked it so much, I saved parts of the lyrics for a good time (which was now, I guess.) While I enjoy other things by them, I suppose that, as Insanity 101 pointed out, that particular song always reminded me of Robin and Slade… (By the way, we're still not allowed to do songfics…so, shhh!)
The only other thing I wanted to say is that some of you might be a bit lost concerning this newest update—never fear, I will explain all at the end. I merely say this because I'm including a bit of a religious belief in here, and I'm not sure if some people would understand…well…here we go again.
PS: Anybody catch the Matrix Revolutions quote in the last chapter? Just wondering…
Chapter Twenty Five: Mountain
……
Rain. Pure, uncontaminated droplets of water, pattering down on his cheek like cool fingertips. It was a relief, to feel something that had not yet been corrupted in the world like everything else…He let his jaw drop open, and gulped down the raindrops that ran into his throat, drinking it in…Good…he'd expected for it to be tainted with blood, or dirt, after the makeshift tsunami…
He didn't hurt at all, thank God for that. He had been so drained…it was certainly fortunate that he'd passed out…the only problem was that he never wanted to wake up…not when he knew what would be waiting for him in reality. Best just to enjoy this relaxation, and hope that it would be days before he finally snapped out of it…
Bruce-
There was good news: He'd finally lost the police—though not until several bullets had gotten caught in the kevlar of his suit (and it had gotten extremely uncomfortable after he was forced to keep running all over the place) and he'd sprained his ankle from screwing up a jump. Fortunately, while the officers were inspecting one area where they'd thought they'd seen him, Bruce had used a few Bat—bombs and hooked them onto some unoccupied squad cars; needless to say, the sight of their cars being blown sky high was enough to keep them busy…for awhile, anyway.
The unfortunate thing about life, however, is that, while there is upside to a situation, there is almost always a downside to accompany it. And as the Dark Knight pulled out the tracker he'd stuck on Robin, he felt his heart sink into the depths of his stomach. The red dot, which had been moving here and there rapidly mere moments ago, was now steadily blinking…but frozen in the exact same spot. Ever since Bruce had noticed the 'S' insignia on Robin's new uniform, he'd guessed what had taken place…if that son of a bitch had severely hurt his son in any way, the Bat swore he would tear him limb from filthy limb—that was a promise.
His parental anxiety for the boy spurred him into action, and Batman turned from watching (with more than a hint of smug satisfaction tainting his smirk) the police trying to drag down one of their cars from atop what had been an office building and followed the trail, praying, hoping…
Richard could take care of himself. He was an incredibly smart kid, and wouldn't get himself into some sort of bizarre situation that could get him killed…
-----------------------
The waves rolling along the seashore rustled peacefully, sounding similar to how the wind might blow through a field of long grass, or perhaps how the folds of fabric in an extravagant dress shushed with the wearer's movements…like the gowns his mother used to wear so long ago…It was a little hard to believe that only some hours ago, these same waters were crashing and rumbling like a caged animal…
Bruce glided over the sand like a shadow, stepping lightly to avoid pressing his footprints into the sand—his job, even though he was often slapped on the front cover of newspapers that babbled on and on about every little thing that he did, required a certain amount of discretion. Publicity wasn't his biggest issue to deal with as the Dark Knight. Those kinds of things were left up to Bruce Wayne to handle.
He had no trouble picking out the sliver in the cliff face and headed towards it with mixed emotions of rage and yet trepidation…
Please let him be all right…
It was just as he entered the tunnel so he didn't get a very good look at it, but the man noticed some sort of crumpled shape covered by a bundle of ratty looking clothes trapped between a few sharp rocks; no doubt it had been washed up from the ocean…well, whatever it was, it could wait for the time being—he refused to let anything keep him from finding out what happened to Richard.
The slit between the rocks was small, and Bruce had difficulty sliding through it. Multiple times his cape snagged, and proceeded to become more and more torn as he progressed…He'd have to talk Alfred and Lucius (A/N: You know…Lucius Fox? The African—American guy from "Batman Begins." He's supposedly the guy who creates Batman's suit and car and…all that) about improving the suit so that it wasn't such a hassle…
The Bat was trying to be patient, but he was getting steadily more and more frantic as he approached the end of the rift; mostly because there was no sound in the cavern beyond…aside from a steady drip-drip-drip…
Everything's fine…just breathe—everything's going to be perfectly fine…
-----------------------
No matter how many times it happened, waking up from a fatal injury was murder…ironic, that he should use that specific word…
His head was pounding as the skin sealed itself, twisting and writhing as flesh covered the wound…warm blood was still running down his features, though whether it was from the boy's spit or his own bodily fluid…whatever it may be, it helped him to partly regain consciousness just as well as a splash of cold water…It'd be awhile before he fully collected his bearings—after all, having a metal staff driven through his skull had hurt much more than he had let on—but he could wait…he'd spent a great amount of his life waiting, being patient; it was a useful emotion to keep in mind when you were killing or manipulating.
He could wait a bit longer…
-----------------------
There wasn't an incredible amount of pain…that was what was so funny…it had been one of the first things he had been expecting—even if he had fainted, there had to be at least something—was excruciating agony…The rain seemed to fall harder, harder—
Wait—rain! But Slade's lair was underground—
"What the—"
Robin jerked up into a sitting position and glanced this way and that, utterly disoriented.
"I—how?"
He was sprawled on a rocky flat, staring up at a dreary, overcast sky, while his back was propped up on something heavy and sturdy…and yet oddly slick…Robin scrambled to his feet, and shading his eyes to keep the water out of his vision, he tilted his head backwards and found himself staring up at an enormous mountain.
"Um…"
This is weird.
The teen backed away to get a better view, while continuing to look around him, as if hoping to find some sign that he was in familiar surroundings.
Nothing. Nothing for miles, except him and this…mountain…?
Goosebumps prickled on his body, and he shivered from the combined chill that they and the freezing rain created…what was going on? What the heck was he doing here—the last thing he ever remembered was lying on the floor of Slade's lair, with two broken ribs, and an arm…and blood…
Everything that had just happened between him and his enemy was strangely fogged, as if it were all just a distant, unimportant memory fading off—shoved to the back of his mind to make way for more impending things at the time. But how could he forget it so easily? It had to have happened—right?
Then why isn't your arm broken? And how about your ribs…?
Robin obliged and rotated his arm, jumping in surprise as he saw it had been completely healed, along with…
Black gloved fingers ran themselves across the orange side of his chest, checking for…something…something had been there…but he wasn't sure what…
"It doesn't matter," he pronounced to nobody in particular, as he finished inspecting himself for any sign that he had been beaten (and coming up without a trace), while tilting his head back to stare hard at the mountain again.
Why did he feel like something was out of place?
Only one way to find out, a voice murmured thoughtfully in his ear, and Robin, before he was quite sure what he was doing, strode over to the bottom of the slope.
Climb.
And so he did, digging his fingers into the slippery stone, hands scrabbling for holds to pull himself up with.
I hope I know what I'm doing…
Bruce-
It was a desolate place, and the atmosphere stunk of decay and blood…Bruce wrinkled his nose in disgust and worry. He took a few hesitant steps forward, glancing each way for some sign of life…not that he could even start to imagine who would want to dwell here…
Drip…
The Dark Knight jerked backwards in revulsion as a single drop of blood fell from above and landed with a soft plash on his boot. Curiosity getting the better of him, the hero made the mistake of looking up—and just about threw up; a stranger's body was splayed across one of the several catwalks that stretched up and up to the dark ceiling beyond, a staff driven perfectly through their head. Batman made the obvious connection to who this man was, after catching a glance of the colors of his mask, and as he stood, observing the corpse, his stomach twisted and tightened even more…it wasn't the sight that bothered him, persay. Growing up in Gotham and becoming a "super hero" had introduced him to a lot of grisly ways of murder that he hadn't been quite sure was possible…it was more of the idea that Robin might have done this that made him uncomfortable. As he turned in the opposite direction, though, the Crusader thought he saw the other man's single eye blink, just once, as if he were still alive…
It was just a trick of the light…that was all…
Bruce kept treading forward uncertainly for a second or two, still searching hopelessly…and his blue eyes came to rest on the bleeding, crumpled body of his son.
"Oh, God."
The Knight didn't think twice and flung himself onto the ground, kneeling beside the dead boy.
"Oh, my God, no…" He whispered again, and he heard a numb, disbelieving buzz begin in his brain. "Please…not…not Richard…no…"
This can't be happening, this cannot be happening—
"C'mon, kid…c'mon, you're not—you can't be—"
Bruce pulled Robin into his arms and pressed two fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse…faith and the fragile trust that 'everything will be okay' were both poised on the edge of a knife as the pendulum starts to swing…
Don't let this be true…
…There was no heartbeat.
"Richard…no…NO!"
BANG!
"NOOOOO!"
His mother and father were on the ground, bleeding, dying in front of his eyes.
Don't leave me here…don't leave me like this…you have to come back…
"Don't leave me, Richard…"
Wake up…you can't be dead…just asleep, just asleep…just wake up…
"Richard…"
Sobs wracked his body as he cradled his son futilely, his tears falling on and rolling down cheeks that were pale with death…
Gone.
Alfred-
The nurse was scurrying along the obliterated hallway, flinching away from any sign of violence, but that wasn't how he was alerted to her presence; it was the annoying clack of her heels. Good Lord, what was modern medicine coming to? Alfred, who was slumped wearily in the remains of a armchair, lolled his head to the side and watched her draw nearer…
At least he'd gotten all the Titans out…he wasn't sure if some of them were going to be all right or not, however…
"Excuse me, sir…but do you know if there's a Mr. Alfred Pennyworth around here?"
"Of course, madam. I am he. What do you want?"
The girl bit her lip.
"Look, I don't know why, but I think you might be in trouble…"
The butler was taken aback.
"Trouble? What makes you—"
"Well, you see, there's a man on the phone at the front desk. He sounds really angry and he demands to speak with you…."
"Oh."
That'll be Master Bruce.
Standing, Alfred politely followed the young lady into the elevator, saying not a word as they descended to the first floor. As the doors slid open, the nurse bustled right over to the desk and picked up the phone without a word—the old man was amused to see that she handled it as if it were a bomb that could explode at any minute.
"Master Bruce, thank God you've called," the British man said enthusiastically. "We managed to rescue Raven and the Titans have been moved to a more secure location. You see, they've been grouped together, and the security has enhanced—"
"Alfred."
The butler felt his voice falter. Bruce sounded so…hollow, so empty, as if he had just seen the unthinkable.
"I need you to call Leslie."
"S—Sir? Are you all right."
There was a crackle of static, before:
"Did you hear what I said?" The elderly gentleman didn't know what to think. His friend, despite the fact that his tone suggested he might explode with emotion at any second, was remaining controlled, his effort evident. "Call Leslie. Right now."
"But, but sir—"
"CALL HER NOW!" Bruce roared, losing it. "I don't give a damn about anything else, just tell her to get over the manor as soon as she possibly can!"
"Bru—"
"NOW!"
Alfred couldn't recall the last time that the Bat had screamed at him like that.
"Y…yes, sir…of course, right away, sir."
Robin-
The storm got worse and worse, the father he journeyed, and it made it hard to maintain his grip. It didn't help that the rain was causing everything to be slipperier than it should be, and more than once, Robin's hands scratched wildly, just grabbing onto a hold in the nick of time.
This really sucks, he thought angrily, lugging himself up another couple of feet. First I get myself bashed up by Slade, then I can't remember what the hell happened to me, now I'm stuck fifty feet up in the air, clinging to a stupid—
He reached out, trying to find the stone that was jutting out…but instead, he felt a flat surface…
The top?
Who cared? It was a place to rest, that's all he knew.
Robin yanked himself up and rolled onto a wide plain of rock, panting as he pushed his weight to balance on his knees, rocking back on his heels. He was so high up, that he almost wondered…
The Boy Wonder stood and pulling off one of his uniform's glove, he reached his right hand up; its palm scraped the sky, and the clouds dispersed to make a path for it, melting back to their original dreary position afterwards.
I'm touching the sky…
"This can't be real," He mumbled in awe, removing his hand.
"Well, you're right about that, in a sense…"
Robin whirled around in a fighting stance, prepared to take on the person who had sneaked up behind him…he found himself staring at his exact twin, though they were dressed in his colorful outfit that he wore when he had been with the Titans.
"I've gone insane," he murmured, taking in the strange sight in front of him.
"No," the replica of himself said calmly. "Not quite."
The teen glared at the surroundings, masked eyes frequently flicking back at his mirror image…
Slade's staff cut his chest, burrowing in his heart…Robin stabbed him through the skull…fell and hit the ground, where he—
"I'm dead…aren't I?"
"Hmm…um…yes and no."
There was a pause as both of them observed each other, one suspicious, one humming good—naturedly. Then:
"Where am I?"
"Well…I'd like to call it heaven from all the way up here—considering the view—" His copy gestured outward, and Robin took in the splendid details of the storm clouds and the barren lands stretching on and on far below. "—But the climb is hell. So…"
"Purgatory, then?" The Titan asked, taking a wild guess.
"That's a good way of putting it."
"Uh—huh…look, who are you anyway?"
"Your conscience."
"Oh great…well, okay 'Conscience'…Right now—I mean, when I was alive, I kind of liked to think that whenever I was to die, I was going to go to Heaven."
"You know," his subliminal self said slowly, as if realizing the weight of each word that it spoke. "It's interesting that you should bring that up…because technically, that is the reason why you are here."
"Pardon?"
"There's…there's been a bit of a problem regarding your…" His morality frowned in obvious revulsion as he gazed unhappily at what Robin was wearing. "…Err, true intentions."
"What! But I—I'm a—"
"Hero. Yes, I know. We're aware of that."
" 'We—'"
"Yes, yes. Anyway. There's been some conflict…which is why you and I are here."
"But…why are we here?"
'Virtue' grinned.
"Because, I am here to make a deal…would you like to hear it?"
Robin eyed him dubiously, before saying carefully:
"What kind of deal?"
-----------------------
Bruce whipped around as the elevator to the Batcave creaked loudly as Alfred entered, accompanied by Leslie, the "family doctor."
The butler rushed to his employer, the minute he caught sight of him, looking alarmed.
"Sir, what is it? You made it seem to be an emergency—"
He was interrupted by a gasp, and both men turned to stare at the female doctor, who had pulled back the sheets on one of the operating tables, uncovering Robin.
"How did—"
"Bloody hell," Alfred whispered, gaping. "What happened to him…?"
"That's what I'd like to know," Leslie said, appalled as well, and she shot the Dark Knight a questioning glance. The Bat hung his head and touched his son's head gently.
"I don't know…I found him like this…"
"But…why did you call—?"
"I need you to do everything you can to help him, Les…" Batman said quietly. "I have to save him…"
The doctor nodded and checked for a pulse, brow creasing in a sympathetic expression.
"B…Bruce…I think he—"
"He's not," The billionaire persisted, though he was crying again, and Alfred patted his shoulder sadly, eyes tearing as well. "He can't be…"
"I'm a physician," The woman murmured. "I…I can't bring people back from the dead—"
"Please try…do everything you can…" Bruce's eyes were pleading. "Please, Leslie…"
Leslie bit her lip, trying to think, but she nodded.
"I'll see what I can do…"
But I don't believe it'll make a difference…
Robin-
"I'll make you a bargain for your life."
"How?" Robin said, skeptical.
"You don't have to die right now. You can go back to Earth and live, but…"
"But?"
"You have only five years to do all the things you have to do, which is to repent—something you would normally do up here—for all the unlawful things you've done, such as stealing—"
"I was being blackmailed!"
"It still counts for the most part…besides, you didn't mind stealing all that much, did you, even if it was evil?"
That shut him up.
"I thought so. Anyway, you can go back to living for five years—let's see, you're fifteen right now? Yeah, so when you're twenty, then—making up for stealing and murder…" His conscience clucked disapprovingly. "…Then you come back here so it can be decided whether you should go to Heaven or Hell, depending on whether you are truly sorry or not…or…"
"Or?"
"Or, you can stick around here for about a hundred years—repenting—until the 'Day of Judgment,' and then probably go to Heaven."
"Probably?"
"Well, you can't be too sure. Odds are, though."
"But," Robin grumbled miserably, thinking it over. "Either way, I don't get a chance to really live…that's not very fair."
"Who said life is fair?"
"I thought I was dead."
"Oh yeah…Anyway, what do you say?"
The Teen Titan struggled not to yell as he complained, distressed:
"How am I supposed to make a choice!"
"You can't."
"Huh?"
"You don't like either suggestion. You don't want to die right here, right now, but you also don't want to go back to Earth—even if your friends and family…and worst enemy as well are down there—just to die again in five years. Both choices suck because, in your eyes, you lose either way…sound familiar?
It certainly did.
"Unfortunately, I don't have much time to wait for you to pick. People die every day, and I've got a bit of a schedule to manage…so?"
So what do I do now? Eeenie, meenie, miney, mo?
But do you really want to stay here?
This guy may be my conscience, but he's a prick for forcing me to make a decision!
Think about how Bruce will take this, especially after his parents? And what about the Titans!
I don't care. Slade's back on Earth…but I hate this place!
You never even said goodbye…
That got him.
"All right," He snarled, regarding his double with nothing short of hatred. "I'll go back to Earth and make up for 'my sins.'"
His psyche smiled widely.
"No problem, Richard…"
Instantly, Robin felt tired….weak…in pain…he sank to the ground and curled up tightly in a ball, shutting his eyes out of exhaustion, but also in an attempt to ignore the agony that was coming back to him…"
"See you in five years…"
-----------------------
Leslie took a deep breath and, opening Robin's mouth, blew in, before she checked for a heartbeat.
Nada.
She got a quick peek over her shoulder at Bruce; the poor guy was absolutely distraught…hell, he was so desperate, he thought that she could bring his boy back…she'd never seen him like this…not once…maybe that's why she was so scared. If Robin died, how would Batman take this?
Leslie inhaled again and was about to blow, when…
Robin's eyes fluttered open, staring at her with a disturbed appearance to him.
"L—L—?"
"Holy shit!" She yelled in spite of herself, stumbling backwards into Alfred. She heard him wheeze for air, and flushed in embarrassment, though she was still shocked. Bruce, looking eager, hurried forward to stand by Robin.
"Richard…can you hear me…?"
"B…" Robin was so tired….
"Bruce…I'm…okay…"
The kid collapsed in a dead faint, but the smile on the Dark Knight's face was joyful beyond words, and he pulled Leslie and Alfred to their feet, before kissing the doctor on both cheeks and hugging her.
"Leslie, you're a genius."
The woman giggled, nothing short of hysterical, but she composed herself and, hugging him back, said kindly:
"I think he's going to make it…"
Thank God.
To be Continued…
That scene between Bruce and Robin, when Bats found the body—that was for Sarah Shima, who insisted that I shouldn't glaze over it, but rather make it dramatic and heart wrenching. I tried my best…I actually imagined the feelings that were going through me when my dad told me my grandma hadn't made it, and then attempted to describe the pain, the suffering that you feel…I'm sorry to keep dragging this up. Forget about it…
Anyway: There's your plot twist. Robin has five more years, or so, to make up for things he's done wrong. That's how the series starts off, although there are two more chapters to go after this one.
And for those of you who didn't know: Purgatory is neither Heaven or Hell, but rather a place in between, where you go to if you die…it's like…a place for people that are too good to go to hell, but they still have to redeem themselves for their sins in that place, before they can go onto heaven. What happened to Robin…well, as far as that goes, it's mostly fiction. There's nothing about being sent back to Earth to make up for things…however, I was thinking about it and decided that, though you repent in Purgatory, most of Robin's issues took place on Earth; issues that can't ever be faced in Purgatory. It makes more sense for him to return there to fix things. Plus, I can't have a series if he stays dead (Which Alexnandru astutely pointed out.)
Later:
Rebel-Aquarius
PS: Sorry if this seemed rushed or if it sucked. I know I keep apologizing for that, but I get nervous.