Truth: We as humans are rational creatures. The choices we make, we don't make simply by instinct. We consider every single possibility, desperately trying to picture what our choices will bring... in the end, we choose what will help us obtain the more desirable outcome.

But, the choices that we have to make in the midst of sadness, sickness, and the prospect of death... those choices are the hardest.

Reality

"The most beneficial choices are never easy."

He could hear voices quietly talking, though they sounded very far away.

"It is good we got to the basement in time. A few more minutes, and he... he might have..." A teary voice said sadly, fading.

"I know..." A gruff voice said sadly.

"It doesn't matter," A flat, monotonous voice said. "Something... very bad has happened inside his mind." A pause. "I've ran tests for viruses, drugs, hallucinogens, probes... any external source that could have caused all of this to happen..."

"Was there anything to be found?" The teary voice whispered.

A pause. "Nothing. What happened tonight was purely in his head."

"There has to be something." A stuffy voice insisted. "I mean, you don't get a cracked rib just from hitting yourself."

A sigh. "Don't underestimate what the human body is capable of. I know it doesn't seem possible, but all his injuries were indeed self-inflicted."

Silence.

"To him, everything that happened with Slade tonight was real. In reality... none of it ever happened."

Another pause. "Raven, what are you saying?" The gruff voice sounded sickened.

"I'm saying... clearly, we can't help him anymore."

Shocked silence.

"What does this mean?" A tear stricken voice whispered.

More silence.

"It means, he needs outside help. Professional help."

"You think he really is... sick." The gruff voice said softly.

Silence.

"Cyborg, you have to remember that unlike the rest of us, Robin is only human. He is as susceptible as anyone else to mental illness."

"Raven, he isn't crazy! He's not sitting on street corners telling everyone that he secretly works for the CIA-"

A violent fit of sneezing ensued.

"I... I understand..." The stuffy voice said, his voice feeble. "I know that Robin has always been... off sometimes. I know he doesn't always handle stuff like he should... but, you really think sending him to one of those hospitals will..."

"I don't know. But that's just it... We aren't doctors and are in no position to guess what is happening to him." The monotonous voice said simply.

Then, a shocked gasp. "We are sending him... away?"

"Starfire, he needs to get away from everything here so that he can concentrate on fixing whatever is going on inside his head. Keeping him here will enable him to continue the way he is. Eventually, he's going to hurt others, as well as himself."

"Look," The gruff voice was hesitant. "I wanna help him... but, this isn't just anyone we're talking about... this is Robin. Our leader, our friend. Are you sure this is the best solution?"

"Cyborg, we're his friends. He knows that we only have his best interests in mind-"

"Does he?" The teary voice was doubtful. "Will he not feel abandoned? We are indeed his friends. We are all he has."

Silence.

"Then, there's only one other option..."

Robin slowly came to full consciousness, his breathing shallow. Every inch of his body ached as though he had been bludgeoned relentlessly for days on end. He painfully opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by the Titans in the medical room in the tower.

His friends, surprised, looked down upon their awakening leader.

Struggling to speak, he croaked, "What... what happened?"

"You are safe... here in the hospital room, at home." Starfire said, gently caressing his gloved hand.

"H-how?" Robin stammered.

Cyborg looked down upon him, his human eye sad. "By the time we got downstairs, you were completely unconscious. You had more injuries than you had before... probably from falling down all the stairs."

"We got you back up here, got some fluids into you, got you stabilized. You're going to be fine." Raven assured him.

Robin nodded, fearfully looking around the room.

There was no Slade lurking in the dark corners.

Sighing, he gazed out the window. "There's just one thing I don't understand."

Starfire looked at him curiously. "What is that?"

His swollen eyes suddenly flashed with anger. "You really still believe I got all those injuries from hurting myself?" He glared at his bewildered teammates. "For your information, I... am never. Ever. Going to... an asylum." He said the last word as if it was poisonous.

His comrades looked down guiltily, knowing he overheard their prior conversation.

Cyborg put his hands up in surrender. "Look man... we just-"

"No!" Robin panted with the effort of yelling. "We aren't discussing it, because it is never going to happen, end of story."

Raven shook her head calmly. "We'll discuss this later. For now, you need to rest."

Despite his dwindling strength, Robin shook his head, beginning to hyperventilate. "No. I... I made a mistake tonight. I know that. But, you want to send me to a mental hospital?"

"Robin, calm down-"

"No!" He began to desperately tear at his restraints, his chest heaving with terror.

"I thought you were my friends..." He faded, horrified, when he saw Raven pull out a needle. "No no! Please, don't do this to me! Please!" He desperately pleaded.

The other titans sadly looked away as Raven sedated him, diminishing all his thrashing almost instantly.

The room was completely still for several moments. The terrified cries of their leader seemed to echo around them for an eternity.

Raven was the first to speak, breaking the tense silence. "This has gone too far."

The other three slowly looked up at the empath, horror filling their senses.

She took a breath. "As I was saying, we only have one other option."

Cyborg looked at her, his human eye desperate. "What's that?"

She paused. "Batman."

Author's Note:

What'll Batman do? Will he fix our broken Boy Wonder?

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