I do not own anything by Eminem.
Song: Beautiful
Lyrics will be Italicized
Lately I've been hard to reach. I've been too long on my own.
Every one's got a private world where they can be alone.
Are you calling me? Are you trying to get through?
Are you reaching out for me, like I'm reaching out for you?
Robin was walking slowly down the sidewalk, zoned out of reality, the music taking all of his attention. This was where he came to relax; it always had been. He used to blare music from his speaker at the tower before it had been destroyed. Remembering the destroyed tower reminded him of what had happened with Cyborg. Why did he have to fail his friends? He knows they had forgiven him, but he hasn't forgiven himself, how could he? Look what he had done to them! He had killed them, it was the truth and that's all there was to it. He had tried to save them. He had given a hundred percent, and failed. So maybe his best wasn't good enough? Maybe he wasn't meant to be a hero any more?
I'm just so fucking depressed; I just can't seem to get over this slump.
If I could just get over this hump, but I need something to pull me out this dump.
I took my bruises, took my lumps, fell down and I got right back up.
But I need that spark to get psyched back up, I n order for me to pick the mic back up.
He arrived at the mansion, saying nothing as Alfred opened the door for him. He just didn't have anything to say. He just wanted to be alone. He had a pit of despair he needed to wallow in. It was a lovely pit full of tears, pain, sorrow, and loss. He knew it wasn't wise to wallow in the past, especially after what happened to him, but with something like that he needed help. Bruce wouldn't help, he knew that. If anything, Bruce would make it that much harder to move on because he would keep comparing it to how he reacted when his parents died. Bruce had watched them get killed, cried, got over it and got retribution for what had happened. But what Bruce didn't realize, or possibly refuses to recognize, is the fact that he can be a cold cruel person sometimes. When they used to work together he would do or say things that showed he didn't care about others feelings because it got the job done. Of course Robin was wishing he could be a bit more like Batman, with the ability to not feel much on an emotional level. He felt like he was in the emotional junkyard, a place where the worst of all the emotions reside. Fear, sadness, confusion, terror, anything that wasn't a nice feeling ended up there. It was one of those places where some people excel at cheering themselves up and getting out, and others took years to do it on their own. He was one of those people, and he knew he needed help. He needed help to get to the point where he could be a hero again.
I don't know how or why or when I ended up in this position I'm in.
I'm just starting to feel decent again.
So I just decided to pick this pen up and try to make an attempt to vent.
But I just can't admit, or come to grips with the fact that I may be done with rap.
I need a new outlet, and I know some shits so hard to swallow but I just can't sit back and wallow in my own sorrow.
Robin began to think, when did I get this low? How did I come to sitting in a dark room and crying? I was the leader of an elite fighting team, what happened? A voice in his head reminded him "You killed them, that's what." And here he was again, back to the depressing void that was his emotions. He had tried to cheer himself up, he had almost felt normal again; but it seamed like his mind just didn't want him to. It felt like it wanted him to live like this for the rest of his life, in this eternal state of turmoil. He may need to give up the life of a hero just to keep himself alive. If spent the rest of his life like this then he could end up killing himself while working, but on the other hand what would he do if he wasn't a hero? He hadn't done anything else for seven years; it was honestly the only life he knew.
"Just fuck it. Fuck the world right now," Robin mumbled to himself as he fell into a very restless sleep, his dreams full of doubts and concerns.
But I know one fact; I'll be one tough act to follow.
One tough act to follow.
Here today, gone tomorrow.
But you'd have to walk a thousand miles.
In my shoes, just to see.
What it's like to be me, I'll be you, let's trade shoes.
Just to see what it'd be like to feel your pain, you feel mine.
Go inside each others minds. Just to see what we find, look at shit through each others eyes.
But don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh. They can all get fucked, just stay true to you.
So don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh. They can all get fucked just stay true to you, yeah, so…
Robin woke up, cold sweat glistening on his face and chest. He had just had the worst dream ever since this whole thing had started. He had been visiting his friend's graves, talking to them and hoping they could hear him when their ghosts appeared. They had started to shout at him, curse him, telling him it was his fault. His fault they had died. His fault that Starfire had killed herself, all of it was his fault. They all kept shouting when he had shouted back that he knew it was his fault, that he was sorry and had avenged their deaths. That was when they had all stopped talking except for Raven. She had given him the coldest stare ever and had said that if he was truly sorry he would kill himself and join them in death. At her words Robin had begun to cry, and had pulled one of his explosive disks from his belt and detonated it. He had then joined his friends as a ghost as Bruce and Alfred had walked up, horrified at the sight. That was when he had woke up, sweating profusely.
He checked the clock; it was ten in the morning. He should go eat breakfast. He put on the outfit he had acquired in Tokyo from that gangster. He hadn't meant to keep it; it had just ended up in his suitcase. It had then become his favorite civilian outfit, partially because it had sunglasses hid his eyes. He needed that now because his eyes were blood shot and puffy from all the crying he had done. As he entered the kitchen he saw Alfred cooking eggs.
"Ah, Good morning master Richard. I hope you slept well last night. How do you want your eggs cooked this morning," Alfred asked him formally. He always spoke like this, it bothered Robin when he was younger but he had grown accustomed to it as he got older.
"I slept fine Alfred, and over easy on the eggs please." He didn't want to talk to Alfred about what had happened because he knew he would tell Bruce, and that was something he didn't want to happen.
"You know Dick; it's not nice to lie, especially to a friend," came a dark voice as Bruce walked into the kitchen in his black suit and tie. He had an important meeting today with Star Labs as Bruce Wayne, not Batman.
"I'm not lying, I slept fine," Robin said defensively.
"Oh please," Bruce said, "I could hear the tossing and turning when I came home about one in the morning after stopping a robbery. I heard small screams and sobbing coming from your room. I don't think that's sleeping fine" He was staring at Robin, his blue eyes icy and cold.
"Master Bruce, I do believe you have an important meeting to get to," Alfred said as he place Robin's eggs on a plate. Robin didn't even touch them until Bruce had walked out the door.
"Thanks Alfred, for getting rid of him," Robin said before eating his eggs.
"He was right you know, about lying to a friend. I am your friend Master Richard; you may talk to me about anything." He had a look of concern on his face for the young boy, one that Bruce had certainly never had. Robin honestly didn't know if Bruce even cared for him sometimes.
"Thanks for the eggs Alfred, they were really good." Robin walked off to the garage, not able to hear Alfred say,
"Good luck Dick," behind him.
I think I'm starting to loose my sense of humor, everything is so tense and gloom.
I almost feel like I gotta check the temperature in the room. Just as soon as I walk in it's like all eyes on me.
So I try to avoid any eye contact, because if I do that it opens the door for conversation, like I want that.
I'm not looking for extra attention; I just want to be just like you. Blend in with the rest of the room; maybe just point me to the closest restroom.
Robin was riding his motorcycle around the city, watching as people pointed at him, called his name, and shouted insults. The city could be very controversial, some people loved their heroes, and others hated them. He honestly right now wanted to be normal, not a hero, just normal. He wanted to be able to drive around on his motorcycle without every one staring and pointing. Of course it would help if his motorcycle didn't have a big R on it. If he was forced to give up his life of hero work he would need to get a new one. He found a quiet book store down one of the many allies in Gotham to hide from everybody. He had put his motorcycle under a tarp he had found outside the place. As he walked in he heard someone reading a poem.
"We are the hollow men, we are the stuffed me. Leaning together, headpiece filled with straw." At these words it sent Robin rushing to the bathroom and vomited in the first toilet he could reach. That was the poem that killed Titans East. That was one of the things that had killed his friends. He was trying to outrun those things, so did it have to follow him? What had he ever done to deserve any of this? He had lived a life of crime for a while, but why did he have to be continually punished? Ha had paid for that by now, hadn't he? He staggered out of the bathroom, and everyone in the store looked at him funny.
I don't need no fucking man servant trying to follow me around a wipe my ass, laugh at every single joke I crack.
And half of them ain't even funny like "Ha, Marshall, your so funny man, you should be a comedian, god damn!"
Unfortunately I am, but I just hide behind the tears of a clown. So why don't you all sit down? Listen to the tale I'm about to tell.
Hell, we don't gota trade our shoes, and you don't gota walk no thousand my shoes, just to see.
What it's like to be me, I'll be you, let's trade shoes. Just to see what it'd be like to feel your pain, you feel mine.
Go inside each others minds. Just to see what we find, look at shit through each others eyes.
But don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh. They can all get fucked, just stay true to you.
So don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh. They can all get fucked just stay true to you, yeah, so…
"Dude, are you ok," Someone said.
"No, I have some bad history with that poem." Robin didn't want to go into detail, hopefully no one recognized him.
"Wait, aren't you Robin," asked the same guy. Damn thought Robin, so close.
"Yes," he mumbled. At the word every one was crowding around him, of course in a bookstore with only ten customers inside it and two staff it wasn't that many people. They were bombarding him with questions. Why wasn't he in uniform, what was with the poem, did he come here often? His temper hit the roof, but instead of getting violent and ruining his chances of becoming a hero again, he decided to get sarcastic. Turning to the person who asked him if he came here often he said
"Yes, I come here ever day even though I lived on the other side of the country for three years." This caused all of them to laugh, but the joke wasn't even that funny. "Why are you all laughing? The only reason I came in here was to avoid being asked these questions. Maybe I should leave, because obviously people in Gotham are a lot more selfish than I thought." Robin had turned to leave the store when a girl with long red hair said,
"Wait, we're sorry. Don't go, please, we'll leave you alone. It's just not every day when your favorite hero walks into your favorite bookstore." Her expression told Robin she was truly honest about what she said. She seemed so innocent, so kind, so much like Starfire, he just couldn't say no. Most of the people went back to the open mic thing, and Robin listened to it, sitting with the girl who had asked him to not leave. They talked about each of the poems or stories that were being shared; it was a nice, and a little relaxing. When it seamed like every one was done Robin got up and walked on the stage. He had been happy sitting in the audience, listening to these people sharing things that were close to their hearts; now it was his turn.
"Hello, my name is Robin. I'm first going to thank all of you for letting me sit here in peace. You all don't know what that means to me." At this point every one had stopped what they were doing; no one could believe Robin was sharing something with them.
"I'm going to share a poem I once wrote about the most beautiful girl in the world." He remembered it word for word, it had been a month or so since he had written this and it meant so much to him, especially after what had happened to Starfire.
"You came from space, and tried to smash in my face." This elicited a few chuckles and giggles from the audience. "We kicked the butt, and formed a team. We fought crime, we lived life, we became so much more. We became a family, people I could trust and rely on. But you, you meant more; you made my life a shining star in a land of black and evil. I fell in love, but couldn't budge. For my heart could, but my mind wouldn't. I loved you so much, and it killed us both in the end. But you will always be Starfire, my friend." When he finished he could see tears from the audience. His poem had really moved them, and he liked that. He liked that there was a place that he could come and be away from the world without people swarming him. A place with people who had feelings, and could understand where he was coming from and that he needed to heal. When he returned to his seat the red headed girl looked at him.
"That was so emotional. Did you really write that," she whispered this; as if that was all she could do after hearing what he had said.
"Yeah, I wrote that, but I never gave it to her. I wrote it after she had died. I read it to her grave, but that hadn't felt right. Reading it up there, that felt right, that felt like something she would want me to do."
"If you ever want to talk about it, you know where to find me. I'm here every day during open mic time. That's between ten and twelve every morning." Her voice was light and airy, like she was still awe struck by what Robin had said.
"I'd like that, see you tomorrow." He said this as he got up. "Oh, and pass the word around to the others that I don't want them telling people I come here, ok."
"Ok." She smiled and waved at him as he walked out the door. Robin had a smile on his face, because for the first time in a very long time, he was himself again. Not held down by gloom. He was Robin, and it felt good. He got on his motorcycle, and sped off, impatient for tomorrow to come.