Despair
Superman was many things.
Selfless, noble, kind, empathetic, heroic; all could and would be used to describe the powerful hero, the man of steel, Earth's greatest champion. In many respects Superman, although not a native to the blue planet, encompassed all the good things an earthling could be; this was not to say, however, that he had experienced and felt the more negative aspects of the human condition. Even Superman was not immune to feelings of hatred, greed, envy, lust; hatred had plagued the hero for the longest, and even if the subjects of his wrath were deserving of it, to hate was one of mankind's ugliest emotions. However, his Ma had once told him, many years ago, that it was natural to feel these dark emotions, as long as they did not take hold of you, as long as they do not control you.
Superman was not perfect; he would often be the first to state so.
And at this moment, the man of steel was envious; 'faster than a speeding bullet' was one of the many slogans people would attach to him, and, even if it was true, Superman spent very little time actually moving at such speeds within a planet's atmosphere. Although he could move so fast he was barely visible to the naked eye, his own mind had not yet adapted to this deadly power; unable to process all the information that bombarded him when he hit top speeds, Superman reserved his superhuman quickness to the vast, emptiness of space, frightened of the consequences if he allowed this power, one he had not fully controlled, to be let loose.
It was at this moment that he desperately wished he had mastered this power, and he envied the people who had, the Flash family; they, before all others, could not only move faster than light itself, but comprehend, navigate, see at those incredible speeds. Perhaps it would have only taken a heartbeat, instead of the long seconds that passed as the man of steel flew over the decimated city of Jump, searching for his foe, searching for Robin. The heartbeats seemed to drag on endlessly as he traveled over the city, his eyes lingering on the dead and wounding littering the streets; an hour passed, or perhaps only a half minute, before Superman reached the epicenter, his eyes searching for the massive form of Doomsday, his ears taunted with grunts, shuffles, and cackles from the monster.
When Superman finally did spot the monster, the sight drove all rational thought from the powerful hero, righteous rage surging through the son of Krypton; Doomsday, carrying out his twisted judgment, was torturing Robin, gripping the seemingly lifeless hero around his neck, smashing the body into the ground, or tossing him into what few remaining structures that stood nearby, pausing in his cruel play to occasionally twist, pull, or rip at the human's flesh. Blood was everywhere, the red splashes of color bright on the scorched earth; Doomsday, who was carefully controlling his immeasurable strength to prolong Robin's suffering, didn't notice the presence of the Kryptonian, the sociopathic monster reveling in the pain he was inflicting on the dying mortal before him.
Doomsday would come to regret his vicious concentration however; dropping Robin to the ground, pressing his foot against the boy's chest, he cackled at the barely breathing human, reaching a hand down, grasping for Robin's twisted, broken left arm, "I think it's about time for some constructive changes, insect; this is just getting in the way of my fun, so why don't we-"
Doomsday never saw it coming; with a sudden crack in the air, Superman's fist collided with the monster's jaw, shattering it, the massive and powerful momentum from Superman's flight transferred to the monster, rocketing Doomsday through the air, the creature tumbling heavily across the ground. Superman wanted to follow through with his attack, chase down Doomsday, and beat the monster into a bloody pulp, but he forced himself to remain, staring down at the body of a young man, a young man he wouldn't have recognized as Robin if it wasn't for the tattered remains of a red shirt, a dirty, bloody 'R' still visible on the boy's chest; this body, Robin's body, was mangled and bleeding, with exposed bone protruding from an arm, his skin torn, chunks of flesh literally ripped away.
His head cloudy, his eyesight starting to blur with unshed tears, Superman stared for long moments at the motionless hero, an uncomfortable, painful feeling swelling within his heart; this… this was different then the other times, times when heroes had fallen in battle, or grievously wounded. He had felt sorrow when Virago, new to the Justice League, had been murdered by the assassin Onomatopoeia, and had wept when General Glory sacrificed himself so that others could escape the destruction of Tront, but this… this was different. Robin, Richard, was still a boy, a young man, not even in his twenties, yet Superman had known, fought beside, and respected Richard for over half a decade, ever since the young boy donned his Robin costume at the age of twelve, having more experience in this dangerous profession then most full time League members. But the youth or experience of Richard wasn't why the sight of his broken and bloody body affected Superman more so than anyone else to date; Superman, like many older heroes, took pride in the younger generation, the generation who would protect the future of the world, and out of all of these new heroes, Superman looked to Richard to lead them into this future. The young man possessed all the great qualities of his mentor, determination, intelligence, foresight, tactics, but had a natural ability to lead, to take charge, to rally, to draw people to him.
Superman clenched his fists, at first thinking Richard had succumbed to his wounds, the rushing of blood and rage drowning out his keen hearing; then he noticed something that calmed him, clearing his head. It was feint, almost undetectable, but Robin was breathing; he was still alive. It astounded Superman, feeling a mixture of pride at Richard's refusal to let go of life, and horror of the pain he must still be in. Kneeling down, reaching out his hand to check his pulse, he was further amazed when one of the boy's eyes twitched, slowly, agonizingly, opening.
For Robin, he could not even begin to describe the last few minutes of his life, Doomsday horribly efficient in his cruel undertaking, torturing Robin to the point of death, only to ease up, giving Robin's body time to recover, before starting again. Robin didn't know why he clung to life so stubbornly, the young hero honestly wishing for death a few times, the pain overcoming his determination; still, some part of him refused to give up, keeping his heart beating, waiting for his savior to arrive. Robin felt Superman's arrival, instinctively almost, and when he was released from Doomsday's sadistic grasp, Robin gathered up what little energy he had left to greet his hero, forcing an eye open, using the blood that had gathered in his mouth to wet his lips, speaking softly, painfully, "It's… about time… you got here…"
Robin looked up with his one still functioning eye into the astounded face of Superman, a faint grin twitching on the young hero's lip; Robin's job was done, he had succeeded, Jump city would be safe, his friends would be safe. Water formed in his lids, trailing down his dirty face, the young man no longer having to hold them back, choking out, his breath becoming labored, "…stalled him… kept him… away…" Robin's vision became cloudy with tears, his eyes twitching erratically for a moment before focusing on Superman, the great hero's figure blurry, Robin's eyesight becoming dim, "Safe…? Everyone's… safe?"
Superman, his jaw clenched, grinding his teeth, nodded, replying softly, "Yes, Robin, everyone's safe, they're all safe and sound; you've done your part, more then I could have ever asked for. Rest, Richard, rest now; I'm here." The man of steel didn't know what to do at first, quickly glancing in the direction that Doomsday crashed, knowing that the monster would be able to shake off his blow, and returning shortly. A sudden roar from the distance forced a decision on Superman that he was unwilling to make: engage Doomsday and leave Robin to die, or get the wounded hero to safety, allowing Doomsday to rampage. Rao blessed the son of Krypton, however, with the arrival of Diana, who landed softly next to Superman, gasping in horror at the sight of Robin's broken body. Elation, hope, washed over the powerful hero, who breathed, "Thank Rao," before turning to Wonder Woman, "Diana, see if you can get him to the Watchtower, or to a hospital; just get him the hell away from here while I deal with Doomsday!"
Diana, unable to turn her gaze away from Robin, the woman not having seen such brutality before, could only murmur, "Clark, I don't think there's enough time-"
Another roar cut off her words as the two spotted a large being leaping through the air, falling quickly in the duo's direction, Doomsday, having recovered from his tumble, returning to destroy his most hated foe. Superman, his face deadly grim, causing a shiver to run down Diana's spine, coolly used his heat vision to blast the falling monster, his beams so powerful that they halted Doomsday's decent, propelling the creature back into the air, turning the monster's attack against it. Without turning, keeping his lightly red-glowing eyes on the form of Doomsday, he spoke sharply, "Keep him alive Diana, by any means necessary, just keep him alive!" he paused, cracking his knuckles, his voice now cold, "Doomsday's mine!"
Without another word, Superman was gone, rocketing into the falling monster, loud cracks ripping through the air and powerful shockwaves rolling out from where the two entities collided. Diana dropped to her knees, hesitating, not knowing what to do, where to start; the Amazon princess had only the very basic medical training, like all of her sisters, and Robin's condition was far too advanced for the woman to handle. Aside from the obvious broken bones, Robin's left arm being the most severe, several breaks clearly visible, and bruised, damaged flesh, the most concerning thing Diana noticed was signs that Robin was going into cardiac arrest; his breathing was shallow and irregular, and his muscles, the ones that still worked, were starting to spasm. Not even knowing if his chest cavity could support or survive CPR, Diana faltered, whispering, "Hera, help me!"
Robin, after hearing that his friends were safe, has started to lose consciousness; his body crying for rest, his mind becoming dull from blood loss, the hero knowing that the dangerous aftermath of the drugs he had taken earlier had started. Yet before blackness consumed him, a soft, sudden burst of energy rushed into his body, Diana's request heard, clearing his head for just a moment, long enough for his vision to focus on the sorrowful face of Wonder Woman. For a moment, just a single heartbeat, Robin wondered if it was worth fighting for his life; his body was torn, his bones shattered, his organs damaged. Even if he did live through this, would it be worth it?
As fast as the thoughts came, they were gone; he wanted to live. Pushing the blood pooled within his mouth out, clearing it, Robin, feeling his legs twitching painfully, his heart fluttering, and lungs burning, opened his eye, catching Wonder Woman's gaze as she hovered over him, the Amazon's breath catching as he responded a moment after her plea; Robin spoke with great difficulty, using the given energy before it faded, "Diana… belt… eight…" his hand moved, slowly, like a twisted spider, climbing from where it lay to his belt, Diana's eyes locked onto the eerie movement, drawing her attention to the hand's action, as it lightly tapped the belt buckle and pointed to his left, "…belt… eight…"
That was all he could get out, his mouth filling with blood once more, his eyesight swimming yet again, his heart no longer bolstered by this mysterious energy; Diana, with her years of experience working beside Batman, caught on quick, her hands immediately counting eight capsules to her right from the center of Robin's belt, twisting the top of the container, and pulling out its contents. A small syringe, with a rather long, capped off needle, was the sole object within the belt compartment, a piece of paper wrapped snugly around the medical phial; pulling off the note, trying her best to remain calm, Robin's seizures getting more severe, she quickly unfolded the sheet, her eyes devouring the words she saw. At the top of the paper there was an extremely long word, with way too many letters and not nearly enough vowels, obviously the convoluted name of whatever drugs the syringe contained. Not having the time to think about pronouncing the word, she skipped it, skimming the page for the medicine's directions.
The directions were rather straight forward: the medicine was a counter-drug, antidote, to another unpronounceable medication, to be applied directly into the patient's heart. Confused, not knowing what either drugs were, she didn't hesitate trusting Robin's judgment, as she had always trusted Batman's, removing the stopper from the needle, holding down the convulsing man, and stabbing the syringe into his heart, injecting the medication. It took only a moment for Robin's seizures to stop, his heart no longer out of control, returning to its steady rhythm; this didn't calm Diana down, however, as he was still losing a lot of blood and his breathing was still shallow, a gurgling noise coming from his lungs.
The effect was instantaneous; the great weight that had so pressured Robin was lifted, his heart no longer struggling, the powerful muscle returning to its steady beat. The boy wonder was far from stupid, foolish perhaps, but no idiot; as he had been trained, Robin carried with him the antidote to the dangerous medicine he carried, if he did, in fact, survive the deadly tonic. With his still strong, but growing weak heartbeat ringing within his head, Robin was valiantly trying to remain conscious, even though his vision was becoming dark, and his hearing fading; he faintly felt Diana pinning something to his tattered shirt, leaning over him to speak into it, her hair lightly brushing his face.
Robin grinned, not really hearing Diana's voice as she spoke into the small communicator, her voice frantic as she gave her orders and attempted to keep Robin awake simultaneously; all Robin could do was smile. There was nothing more he could do, there were no more tricks up his sleeve, he had no more plans; he felt Diana's hand resting on his chest, the Amazonian telling Mister Terrific to lock onto his pin and verify transport possibility, and with a small movement, lightly grasped her fingers. This was the moment he had known of, the moment that he had realized when he had formed this desperate plan; this was his time of death. Feeling no fear, but instead a sort of loneliness, he held onto Wonder Woman's hands for comfort, the warm hand the last thing he felt as his consciousness left him; Diana's distressed words, begging him to stay with her, grew faint, a calm, black light and soundless static overcoming all senses.
Robin's grip went slack, and he knew no more.