Who killed Cock Robin?
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Who killed Cock Robin?
I, said the Sparrow
With my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin
Robin was dead. My dear apprentice was dead.
I killed him.
Foolish of him. Thinking he can take me. Thinking he was too righteous to die…
Oh, I made him suffer. He fought to the last. I had to break every bone in his body. But the real test was breaking his will…
"You were always an idiot, Robin. More than ever at the end." Cyborg whispers as he brushes past my spy camera.
Yes. He was. Or was he? There is a fine line between bravery and stupidity. Determination and Obsession.
Good and evil.
Robin, for all his life managed to live right on it. Walking the tightrope.
The procession is silent. But emotions frothed underneath. I sensed I would have to deal with the pain of their righteous anger, Soon.
Truthfully, I would welcome at least a little pain…
Robin was dead. My dear apprentice was dead.
I killed him.
Who saw him die?
I, said the fly
With my little eye,
I saw him die
We were paying our last respects.
Robin was dead. Our leader was dead. And all the magic in the world won't bring him back.
I sigh.
And to think, he was jumping around, fighting Slade yesterday.
What really hit me hard was how he was being buried. No service. No crying. No great procession to mark the passage of a great person.
Just us, the Titans. And Bruce.
Robin's live was a short one. Eighteen years. Not enough to truly make ripples. But we felt him, good enough.
But ripples or not, he didn't deserve this. The Epitaph for one thing; no, it wasn't like
Dick Grayson
AKA
Robin
A Teen Titan. A Great leader.
The Protégé of Batman
(And don't go around saying Bruce Wayne's Batman)
No; it was:
Dick Grayson
Much loved. Gone too soon.
In the end, he is Dick Grayson, the circus acrobat.
A little boy with nothing…
Who caught his
blood?
I, said the fish
With my little dish,
I caught his blood
Death is the something every Tamaranian fears.
We are a people of warmth and emotion. Death is unemotional and cold. It is the antithesis of everything we hold dear. Life…
I have horrified, at first, by the Terran fascination of death. Their concept of continued life… I once asked Robin, if there is life after death; doesn't death lose its meaning?
He shrugged and told me it was something that is feared, people have always run away from it. It was the greatest mystery of them all… he being a detective knew all about mysteries…
Has he found an answer? He would have wanted it.
"……" His mentor shuffles about; not a single tear. Not a single sign of sadness…
I wish I had Friend Raven's ability with these matters. He seemed beyond tears.
I, on the other; as in the Terran Proverb; hand, am freely blinking away my tears and emotions.
Have you found an answer? I ask.
Who'll make the shroud?
I, said the Beatle
With my thread and needle,
I'll make the shroud
He looked like he was asleep.
He was asleep. One from he'll never wake up.
I have felt oblivion many times in my meditations. You can call it Nirvana. Especially in Robin's case. No limbs to lose in fights. No thoughts to obsess over Slade. No worries. No thoughts…
"……" He looks handsome.
A Black and White Suit. Clean and pinstriped.
Bright red interiors.
Purple covers. Purple. The same colors as his bruises……
"……" I move near the coffin. Bend over to his sleeping face. And kissed his forehead.
I felt like kissing ice.
"You were a moron, O leader. You paid for it. You made me pay for it." I whisper into his ear.
Task completed, I take my place between Cyborg and Starfire. Starfire manages a weak smile while Cyborg stares at the wall. Ignoring me.
Flesh to Stone. I tell Robin. At least you were spared that.
Who'll dig his
Grave?
I, Said the Owl
With my pick and shovel,
I will dig his grave
You were always an idiot, Robin!
Always!
Red X, The apprentice, Slade… When did you ever care for your safety! When! And now you are dead! Dead!
You understand that! No, how could you? You're dead!
Dead!
You pompous little bastard! How dare you die on me?
Who's gonna laugh when I shout Booyah!
Who's gonna humor Raven into joining our card games!
Who's gonna beat me in Space race!
You!
But how are you
going to? You're dead!
Dead! Dead! Dead. Dead. Dead.
Dead……
Who'll be the Parson?
I, said the Rook
With my little Book
I'll be the Parson
I choke back any tears I might have shed. Robin won't have liked seeing me cry.
Fifteen Years I raised the boy.
I'm sure many humanitarian groups would have some problems just how I raised him. But no one can doubt I loved him; Heart, Mind and Soul.
Fifteen Years I had trained him.
He never once stumbled. He did far better than myself at his age. I was proud as one can be of him.
It took Slade Fifteen minutes to finish the job.
Fifteen minutes. Not a second more…
"……"
I
had fought Slade before.
He had told me, how it felt. He told me it felt like being god.
To end a sixty year life in sixty seconds… he asked if that was not proof of divine.
He was insane.
I had let him go.
"……" The greatest mistake of my life. We shall see how many minutes it takes to break his neck.
Who will be the
clerk?
I, said the lark
If it's not in the dark,
I'll be the clerk
We all gave one last parting gift.
I gave him a good luck charm. An amulet; an open eye engraved in jade. In more rural times it had been used to ward away bad luck.
I also put a mirror; gothic in design and totally blacked out. The others sensed my intentions but kept quite. I was going to try and contact him one last time… "……" I already know the results.
Beastboy gave up his playstation; I was really impressed by that. He also wanted to put in a king sized piece of Tofu; but a flatly said no by me put an end to that.
Cyborg put in a hubcap from his first car… I noticed how he glowered at Robin's body. He wasn't ready to let go…
Starfire put in as many things as we would allow. Robin's favorite mask… Robin's favorite book…
Mr. Wayne gave a
first edition of Sherlock Holmes. Priceless. But when did money
matter to Robin?
I sigh. We had turned his tomb into a grave
robber's dream…
Mr. Wayne stands at my side; face stoic, eyes ravaged… I sensed his Heart had shattered like glass.
Like glass irreparable…
Who'll carry
the link?
I, said the Linnet
I'll fetch it in a minute,
I'll carry the link
We all say a few words about him.
Or try too.
Starfire breaks into a seventy stanza poem and had to be pulled off by Raven.
Beastboy somehow manages to crack a horrible joke. One horrible joke.
Raven refuses outright.
Mr. Wayne too.
And at last; it's
my turn. What to say? What is there is to say?
To say or not to
say that is the question.
"……"
"……"
" … "
"……"
I go up to him say:
"We will find Slade, Robin. And finish your work. With plenty of unnecessary force."
Who'll be the chief Mourner?
I, said the Raven,
I'll mourn for my love,
I'll be the chief mourner
"With plenty of unnecessary force."
Yes… Bring It on, Tin man. Bring it on.
Bring on the pain.
Robin was dead. My dear apprentice was dead.
I killed him.
It was neither my first nor my last.
Who'll bear the
pall?
We, said the Wren,
Both cock and hen
We'll bear the pall
An uncomfortable silence overcame the group.
Raven told me to pray.
And pray I did.
I prayed that there was an afterlife…
I prayed Robin would find his answers…
But most of all, I prayed my righteous anger won't fail me when I face the nefarious Slade…
There will be a reckoning. As Cyborg put it, with unnecessary force.
Who'll sing the Psalm?
I, said the Thrush
As I sat on a Brush,
I'll sing the Psalm
The gifts were given.
The last words said.
The last threats made.
It was time to let go.
It was time to bury Robin.
We all crammed to have one last look.
His skin was unnaturally pale. Ice.
The purple covers. Bruises.
His was a quiet end. Not befitting his stature.
In the end he was defeated.
It was time for revenge.
Who'll toll the
bell?
I, said the bull,
Because I can pull
I will toll the bell.
Goodbye, Robin. Remember the undue force.
Goodbye, wonder boy. I'll miss you.
Goodbye, Friend. I Hope you will find your answer.
Goodbye, O great leader. It isn't over yet.
Goodbye… son. You will have your revenge.
Goodbye, Apprentice. You were an able match.
All the birds of the air
Fell, a-sighing and a-sobbing,
When the bell tolled
For poor Cock Robin
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