I have to admit that I felt a little "rough around the edges" writing this chapter since it's been such a while since I've done fanfiction. Hopefully, that'll change, and sorry if this chapter seems a little out-of-style for me or anything.

Chapter 3: Friend

Age: 15 or 16

He stared aimlessly into the night. It was chilly, as you'd expect three weeks into autumn. He barely took notice when a breeze of cool, nighttime air would brush against his bare skin. He wasn't thinking, yet at the same time, his mind was overworking itself. Subconsciously, he knew he should be finishing his job, but his conscious mind wasn't ready for him to move yet. He hadn't known how long he'd been there and frankly didn't care. It wasn't as though anyone was waiting for him. No, no one at all. There never is. If he is lucky (which isn't very common for him), then maybe, maybe someone would care enough to have a verbal reprimand or a disappointed look waiting for him. These days, that was the most acknowledgement he got. Except, of course, whenever Bruce would find out he was doing it again. But the looks he would get then, the "supportive" lectures and talks, would make him feel disgusted with himself and ultimately hate himself even more. He supposed it was pointless trying to look for an answer. It was useless trying to fix things, to fix himself. He was too broken, too disturbed to be put back together. And even if one were to try, he would still have a piece of him missing. A piece that was once vital to his very being and that which he will never be able to recover. That was all he believed himself to be: broken, useless, disturbed, incomplete. That was who he was and all he could ever hope to be. And the thing that should have sickened him was how easily he accepted that truth, how easily he was ready to live the remainder of his life in that mindset. …The remainder of his life… How long would that be? For how long would he have to continue being so broken and useless? How long? A question he often asked but could never find a solid answer for. Perhaps…there wasn't an answer…because there simply was no end. How long? Forever? …No…not forever…just until the day he finally dies. Then and only then, is when it will end. And until then, he will continue being broken…disturbed…incomplete…..useless…..worthless…..

"…Hey, there, kid," No. Oh, no. It was such a gentle and familiar voice. And one that he definitely did not want to hear right now. Before he could stop himself, he visibly tensed and was ready to blame the movement on the chilliness of the night, if need be. "What're you doing here? Everything all right with you?"

Turning around to face the older man, it took him a moment to remember where he was. He mentally cursed himself. Of all the rooftops, why did it have to be this one he lingered on after landing? He tried to go for some fraction of a smile. "Oh… Hi, Lieutenant. I was just going along my patrol and stopped here for a little break. I'll just be on my way now…" Sad attempt at a smile still plastered on his face, he began turning back around while reaching for his grappling hook and preparing to stand.

"Hold on a moment, son." He stopped mid-reach as he felt Lieutenant Gordon walk a little closer to him. It took nearly every ounce of control he had not to flinch or further tense with each step. "I need to talk to you."

Although it drained him and he would have liked nothing more than to get out of this moment ASAP, he mustered his strength and tried again at being falsely cheerful as he turned back around. "Sure. What's up?" Since when had it become so hard for him to pretend to be happy? After so many years of practice and near-perfection, one would think it would have become second-nature to him by now. And yet, he finds forcing a smile to be harder now than ever before.

"Robin, I'm going to be frank. I'm concerned about you. Actually, I don't think 'concerned' even begins to describe how I'm feeling."

He swallowed but did everything in his power to uphold his façade. He just wanted to get the heck away from there. "Concerned?" He had a suspicious feeling that he knew what this might be about but played a card of obliviousness anyway. With luck, maybe he could change the topic. Luck. Ha. "Do you mean because Batman's out of town for the week? I can assure you, Sir, that there's no need for concern. I'm capable of patrolling on my own. I had been trained by the best, after all." And cue big smile. Yes, his face hurt, but he figured that if he could become addicted to cutting, he could certainly handle a few moments of muscle discomfort.

The Lieutenant gave a long, sad sigh. He might not be as brilliant as Batman, but he was still a detective. And it was painfully obvious to him that the Boy Wonder was not as happy as he tried to make others believe. "No, that's not why I'm concerned. I'm concerned because although I may not work very close to you, personally, I've still known you, Robin, for as long as Gotham has. And over the years, I've watched you change in ways that I hoped you would never have to." Robin swallowed again and could no longer keep up the cheery appearance. "And I know that with growing up comes changes but…" Gordon sighed again. His eyes showed genuine disheartenment, and it made Robin hate himself all the more. "You're just not you anymore, son. You're not the happy, optimistic kid that was so full of life and energy anymore. You're no longer the colorful, delightful birdie that balanced out Batman's darkness and made a duo with him actually work well. Who you are now is not who you should be. And I know it's not my place to pry, but, as a fellow protector, as an ally-in-arms, as a friend, I must ask you this: What the hell happened to you, kid? What could possibly change you in such a way, make you like this, so different from who you were going to be? Please, Robin, I just want to know if I can help you in any way. I want to know if there's any chance I'll ever see the true Boy Wonder again."

Robin couldn't answer. His thoughts had lingered on something the Lieutenant had said. '…as a friend…' Friend? Ha. Friend. Now there's a funny word. And Robin thought he was the one putting on a façade. They weren't friends. Hardly even associates, really. Gordon was an ally of his mentor. That's it. Granted, in the past, they had occasionally played against each other in a game of checkers while Batman was off battling against what was deemed too dangerous for him at the time. But that had been more of a favor he'd done for Batman. You know, babysitting to pay off some of the debt he owed. And that had been as far as their association with each other had reached. Not that that wasn't to be expected. After all, he was a kid, and Gordon was an adult whose only real allegiance was to Batman. No, they weren't friends. So why on earth would Lieutenant Gordon make up such a lie?

So deep in his thoughts, Robin hadn't realized how long he had been silent for. The silence unnerved Gordon until he finally had to ask again, just to be sure. "Robin," His voice was gentle but firm, and he walked closer to the teenager until they were only within two feet of each other. He waited a moment to give Robin time to make full eye-contact with him. "Please, tell me, son. Are you okay?"

Suddenly, Robin felt a wave of emotions surge through him. Denial, panic, fear, anger, depression, entrapment, frustration, worry, suspicion, desperation, relief, hopelessness, despair. He couldn't choose one; he didn't know which one to trust. So he simply said nothing for fear of saying the wrong thing and turned back around to gaze onto the rest of the city. He knew what Gordon would read his actions as, but he was too emotionally unstable at the moment to mask them as anything else.

He was surprised to feel a hand gently, cautiously rest upon his shoulder. Had his mixed emotions been so overwhelming that he didn't even notice the Lieutenant approach him? He didn't know whether to turn to face him or not. Damn it, he just wanted out of there!

"It's all right, son," The softness of his voice somehow comforted some place deep inside Robin. It was enough to make him look at the Lieutenant. "You can talk to me." There was a slight squeeze on his shoulder, and Robin suddenly found himself unsure of what he was going to do next. He wanted to tell Gordon "thanks, but I think you're mistaken" and swing away before the older man would have the chance to say anything further. But for some strange reason, he also felt obligated, almost compelled to confide in the man. And those eyes… Those genuinely concerned eyes… They hurt to look at, yet Robin continued to stare into them. He felt as though he didn't have much choice, as though it would take a tremendous amount of effort just to attempt to look away. Only a moment had passed but it felt so much longer to Robin. And by the end of it, he had such a stir in his heart and such a building water surplus behind his eyes that he felt he could no longer say nothing. He did not understand why, for he'd gone years in secrecy, in silence. But here, on this chilly night, looking into Lieutenant James Gordon's pleading eyes, he just needed to say something. Just a word, a phrase. Anything would be enough because he knew that once he began speaking, there would be nothing to stop confessions from spewing forth. There would be nothing to keep his secrets, his despairs inside of him. And perhaps, just maybe…that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Perhaps, instead of tears or blood, he could get his feelings out using…words. But he's been to numerous therapists, and none had truly helped. What was it about this situation that was so different?

He couldn't take it anymore. Too much was building inside of him, and he just had to get some of it out. It didn't matter so much right now how he got it out, just so long as he did. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth, and it moved up and down repeatedly, as it would if one were chewing on a large wad of something. He just needed to say something, and the rest would flow out easily from there.

Then Robin's brain decided to work in overdrive for everything except speech. He remembered something. Something that made him slowly close his mouth and look into Jim Gordon's eyes in a different way than before. The haunting words spoken not much earlier that night echoed throughout his mind as a disgust and a hatred for them slowly filled him.

Friend.

Liar.

And then…there was a voice. That same voice that would pop up in Robin's head every once in a while. A voice Robin knew he shouldn't listen to but couldn't help feeling as though it was the only honest thing in his life at times. It spoke the truth, Robin believed. Even if it wasn't real, even if it was just another, darker side of him, it still gave him more comfort than anything else at times like these. And it spoke…so gently to him…so honestly…so convincingly…

" 'He doesn't care about you. You know that he doesn't. The only reason why he's talking to you right now is because he doesn't want you flying around Gotham as screwed up as you are. You're a symbol of Gotham, and if you're showing you're just as messed up as the criminals you fight, then you're proving that all of Gotham is screwed. Good old Officer Gordon couldn't have that, now, could he? Or maybe…maybe he wants you to admit there's something wrong. That way, he can complain to Batman and have you out of the sky for good. Probably for the best… A useless kid like you can only do so much before he gets himself into trouble again. Remind me, just how many times have you been kidnapped? You're just making things worse for everyone. And kind Jim Gordon doesn't have the heart to tell you that. So he chose this as a way to ground Robin without trying to hurt your precious little feelings.' "

Is that what he's really trying to do…? Robin pondered, still staring into Gordon's eyes. No…he-he wouldn't…would he? He never has been completely accepting of me being Robin. But… I don't know… Can I really trust that voice? I know it isn't real but…it does have a point. I am useless. I am making things worse for the people around me. I am just as screwed up as Gotham's criminals. The Lieutenant has every right to want me out of this job. But…his eyes…he looks like he really does care…

" 'He's a cop remember? He's probably done plenty of negotiations and undercover jobs. He's probably a master at acting by now. That look…what you mistake as "genuine care" and "concern"…it's just him putting those acting skills to use. He's deceiving you, moron. And you must be an even crappier detective than I thought to not see it.' "

Suddenly, something in Lieutenant Gordon's eyes shifted. Robin could see it now. The disappointment. The disgust. And the deceit. It was all there, hidden so clearly behind that poorly-established wall of "care" and "concern" and… "friendliness". Liar. Everyone… they're all liars. Nobody wanted to care about someone so useless. No one wanted a friend so pathetic. And despite Robin's being so useless and so pathetic, Jim Gordon was still kind enough to try to ground him in this way. Why couldn't Robin be someone with as much worthiness as him? Why was he so broken and disgusting in comparison? Why can't he prove that God hadn't made a mistake in giving life to him? Why?

…Because…I wasn't meant to be happy…I was meant to live a life of loneliness…of worthlessness…of meaninglessness… This is who I was meant to be, now and forever… It's time I stop trying to be a better person and just accept the pathetic little role I must play in the world…at least…until the day…when this is all finally over…

…The day that I can rest…

"…Thank you, Lieutenant Gordon," Robin said softly with a newfound evenness to his voice. "But, honestly, there's nothing I need to talk about." Somehow, Robin had regained enough of his strength to give a nearly-convincing smile. "Although, I do appreciate your concern for me. …And your…friendship." At the last word, Robin had to struggle to not drop his smile, despite the growing heaviness in his chest.

He stood up, slightly unsteadily at first, then found his balance. He doubled his smile, going so far as to show his teeth. Only for a split second did he wonder who he was smiling for. Was it for Gordon in a vain attempt to convince him that he had no reason for concern? Or was it for himself; to convince himself that it was okay to accept his role in the world, that he should—no, needs—to accept it? But he did not give himself time to find the answer. He couldn't distract himself with such thoughts at this moment. He had to keep smiling…

And smile he did as he swallowed his better judgment and finally found the strength he needed to end this. "I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, Lieutenant, but I really do need to go now. I never meant for my break to last so long, and I'm only halfway done with my patrol." This time when he grabbed his grappling hook, he was determined to not let anything make him take his hand off it. "And I don't think Batman would be very happy if he returned to find criminals running amuck. So if you'll excuse me…" He lifted his grappling hook into the air in the direction opposite of where Gordon stood.

Gordon saw Robin preparing to jump and tried one last time to stop him. "Robin, wa—"

"I'll see you around, Lieutenant Gordon," Robin said quickly, launching into the sky before Jim Gordon had the chance to say another word.

The moment he swung off, confliction engulfed him. Accept it all, Grayson… DAMN IT, why can't I just ACCEPT it?! Tears built in his eyes and he felt his grip loosening on the grappling hook. For only a brief moment, he contemplated whether he should tighten his grip or not before deciding that tonight was not his night for rest…no matter how tempting the idea seemed.

He continued to sail in the sky for nearly an hour until he could swallow his emotions enough to finish his patrol. He was in no hurry. After all, there was no one waiting for him. There was no one who cared how long he stayed out, pantsless and sleeveless in the coldness of an autumn night.

And most of all…there was no one who would ever miss him…

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I might not post again this month because I'm trying to do NaNoWriMo. If I actually finish the story I'm doing for NaNo, you will be able to read it on FictionPress. Just something for you to think about while waiting for an update.