Wally didn't come back. Robin hovered on the roof, on the rocks. He stared out his window for hours each night just waiting. A week passed. The dark crashing waves lulled him into worried thoughts that made him grind his teeth and bite his nails and run his fingers through his raven black hair. Anxiety rose in his chest, clutching at his throat and making his head swim. He flexed his fingers and curled them into fists. There was no comfort from it except in the green sweater. He wore it each night, patiently at first, wrapping himself up and leaning against the cold window pane. Then he grew more eager afterward. Pacing and counting the hours and minutes and seconds that Wally had been gone became routine. He gave his aching legs a rest near midnight and sat on the carpet of the hallway, gazing motionlessly out at the crashing waves.

The reflection of himself in the window was cold and pale. He wasn't coming back. That was it. A month of nothing but adventure and partnership and… Robin got up off the floor, after a week of nothing, and went to bed at last. It was midnight. He slept a full nine hours for the first time in a long time, and woke with a horrible feeling.
Depression settled on him like a great god settling to rest on his chest and deciding he liked the seat. He managed to carry it around with him for a day or so; trudging to the bathroom, it sagged his shoulders and pulled him like a weight towards the floor. Like it just wanted him to sink to his knees and lay down and sleep forever, just sleep the years away. Eating away at his heart. His muscles. It was a feeling like he'd only experienced twice before. When his parents died, and when Bruce scolded him for the last time. Only now, it was deeper than his heart. His fists didn't want to rise, his legs barely moved. His back felt so, so heavy. He was heavy all over.

His friends saw it. Cyborg and Raven exchanged looks as he dragged through the kitchen for a glass of a milk and a bagel before retreating back to his room, wordless. Lifeless. Listless. Day in and day out, he began to sleep. There were missions that he ignored. He put in ear plugs to block out the alarm and just nursed a glass of milk and took a bite out of his bagel before putting them aside and crawling back underneath the covers. He tugged them up over his shoulder and stared at the wall. Just gazed at it for hours. His stomach bubbled for more food, but he didn't have the energy to eat. There was no glancing at the food longingly. There was no moving. There was only him and his thoughts.

Did he do something wrong? Did he make him mad, or gross him out? Did he go too far? Did he want too much? Each worry bounced around his empty head until it warmed into anxiety that seared burning hot scars into his heart.

He couldn't get up after the third day. Drifting in and out of sleep was all he did then. He pushed his nose into a wad of blankets and breathed deeply and cushioned his head on the green sweater. His bones ached with weariness and his heart was like a lead weight in his ribcage. A bitter taste stayed in his mouth. On the bedside table, the milk went sour and the bagel grew blue mold.

Another day passed. Darkness faded into light on the fourth day, Robin fell asleep once more, and a knock came on his door.
"Robin?" Came soft voices. "Robin, can we come in?" No answer. The door slid open, and two sets of footsteps approached. Raven knelt by Robin's bedside and touched his forehead. "He's so pale. Cyborg, he needs to eat. I'll make him breakfast. Bring him into the living room." Her touch woke the boy wonder. He blinked at her blearily.

"Raven?" His voice was chapped and weak.

Cyborg opened the blinds so that blinding sunshine filled the room and came over, observing his moldy bagel. "Man, how long has it been since you ate real food?" He asked in astonishment. A groan and Robin pressed his face into the sweater more to protect his eyes.

"Robin," Raven said firmly. "You've been in here for days. You haven't eaten, or moved."

"I can't." Came the soft, muffled answer.

Cyborg and Raven shared another concerned look. "We'll get you out of here, buddy," Cyborg reached out and drew back the covers, lifting his friend into his arms like he was a sack of potatoes. He took one blanket with him and walked out into the hall. Raven took the dirty food and took it with them. She discarded the bagel and dumped out the milk in the kitchen when they arrived. Gently, Cyborg drew a chair into the center of the room and plopped Robin down into it, draping the blanket over his shoulders warmly. Rob kept slipping sideways, so Cyborg padded each side of him with pillows to keep him upright. In the bright lights he was pale as paper, his hair a mess. He stared at the floor.

Raven busied herself in the kitchen as their half robot friend retreated to get the others. "I'll make one of everything. But you have to eat it. No arguing." When she was finished, she stood by Robin and pushed a plate onto his lap and a glass of orange juice into his hand. The sight of food helped to pick him up a little. He took a bite of everything, just one bite, before draining half the orange juice glass. His energy crept back a small amount. He could lift his head and blink and thank her weakly.
Bursting in, Starfire flew straight to Robin, hovering in front of his thin form. "Robin," she whispered. "What has happened to you?" Behind her Beast Boy was covering his mouth with his hand. His ears were drooping considerably.

"Yeah, that's what I wanna know," Cyborg spoke up, crossing his arms.

"I'm sorry." They all watched Robin intently as he sighed and held out his dishes. Raven took them and floated them into the sink for him. Once his hands were free, Robin drew the blankets around his shoulders. He shook his head. "I don't know what's happening to me," he explained, pained. "It all just… I woke up, and…" His Adams apple bobbed when he swallowed.

"What has made you this way?" Starfire pressed, touching his arm.

He drew out the green sweater and held it in his lap neatly. A deep breath filled his lungs. "I've been seeing someone," he confessed, much to the surprise of his friends.

"Dude, go Robin! You got some tail or what?" Beast Boy laughed, and shrank away from the glares he received.

Robin laughed. "Not really, no."

"Well tell us about her!" Cyborg grinned. "Is she pretty, does she drive? How old is she?"

"Did she do this to you?" Raven put in moodily.

Holding up his hands, Robin looked at them. "Drives, my age, and yes," he answered each question in turn. "Yes, he did."

They froze. "Uh, did I just hear you say 'He' or am I just hearing things?" Beast Boy blurted.