Hush
Quills
'Hold on, Rob. We're almost home,' Wally thought, coming down to his knees, tears finally spilling from his eyes. He buried his face into the inked locks, chest heaving coarsely with every sob as he broke apart, piece by piece. His fingers trembled whilst they cleaved to Robin's form in the fevered hope that his hands and pleas alone could keep the boy wonder from slipping away into silence. 'Rob just…You can't leave me…'
How's Rob doing?
Is he okay?
Can I see him now?
Ouch!—no I don't want you to look at my back; I'm fine!
Did he wake up yet?
Have you set up a blood transfusion?
How many stitches did he need?
Did you take care of his ribs? At least three were fractured…
His pelvis was bruised as well.
What do you mean I can't see him?!
I don't want to rest! I want to see Rob!
No I don't need any medical whatevertheheck!
Answer my question: is Robin okay?!
God just let me see him! What the heck is your problem you dumb trashcan?
I seriously don't give a damn what you think—
"Wally!"
The red-head was forcefully yanked back by a seething Black Canary. The rest of the teens stood feet behind her, pity and worry painting them grave.
"What?" the speedster challenged, whipping his head around, undeterred by the savagery of the blonde's demeanor. His toxic eyes glared wild and colossal at her, unnerving in their fervor. Shadows smudged their rims and it was blatant that the boy hadn't bothered to get any amount of sleep since the team arrived sixteen hours earlier.
"What is wrong with you?" she continued, suppressing the disquiet she felt at his unnatural conduct. She'd known the fondness and friendship between Dick and Wally was something not many could understand, but, despite anticipating his severe reaction to Dick's injuries, she never predicted the young speedster would become this…vicious. Even so, she set him with a glare—he was completely out of line. "You're behaving like a senseless child. Who do you think you are having the gall to speak to Red Tornado like that?" she reprimanded, shaking her head in disappointment and pity. "Since when did you become this outrageous, this indecent?"
Wally ripped his arm from her grasp, disgusted by her forthright ignorance, and shouted, "Since my best friend is dying because of me and there's nothing I can do about it!" His shriek echoed down the halls of the mountain. Taking several steps back, he shuddered and fell to his knees, unable to support himself any longer. The bystanders surged toward him. Covering his face with a hand, he punched the ground in grief, breathing in frantic gasps.
Kaldur came down on one knee next to the speedster and moved to place a sympathetic hand on the fifteen-year-old's back, only to detect his error seconds before he did. The atlantian's hand paused, hovered uncertainly, then settled on the younger male's shoulder. "It was not your fault, Wally," he began softly. "The blame is not yours to shoulder alone. If anything, I should take blame for not maintaining better control of the team I am in charge of."
"I was right there!" Conner blurted, stepping forward, face red and exasperated. "I saw it happen. If I had moved faster, Robin wouldn't…" His emotions bowled off him in waves: remorse melted with fury.
"Conner…" M'gann mumbled, uncertain what to do when everyone felt accountable for the tragedy. The pressure in the room watered her eyes and she recoiled when the clone jerked away from her.
"I screwed up too!" he fumed. "So don't go around blaming yo—"
"Robin is my RESPONSIBILITY!" Wally lashed back with such acidity his voice had seemed almost inhuman. Kaldur even jolted away with alarm. His jade eyes leered through his pooling tears before looking down at his fists. "Rob and I…we made a promise when we first met to have each other's back if things got tight," he remarked quietly, reminiscing. "He was about ten years old then…god he was so tiny…I-I found it almost funny that he wanted to protect me!" Wally let out a dejected chuckle, a tear rolling down his nose and breaking on the ground.
"Oh Wally," M'gann sighed almost inaudibly.
"Stupid kid…" the speedster continued and everyone knew he meant it endearingly. His voice withered until it was scarcely a whisper. "He gave me a black eye when I laughed at him. Little guy packed a mean right hook…"
Black Canary smiled sadly, remembering when the Flash had walked in to a League meeting with his nephew sporting a two-day old shiner; Robin had turned eleven that same day. She recalled the diurnal like a succinct movie behind her eyes…
Catching sight of Kid Flash, the boy wonder let out a gasp—gathering the League's full attention—and immediately ran over to the young speedster. Upon reaching the older teen, Robin hastily thrust a Band-Aid at him saying he was sorry for punching him, but that Wally had asked for it by laughing at him. Needless to say, a good majority of the adults burst out in hysterics at how adorable the interaction was, making both boys flush with embarrassment. Those two had been inseparable since then…
But now, as he was, broken with sorrow, there seemed no likeness between the Wallace West everyone knew and the one before them now. And it hurt Dinah to see him like this.
"Wally, you can't hold yourself responsible to such an extent. It's not only impossible, but unhealthy for you to try and do what you're physically incapable of doing," she said softly. "Unfortunately, in this line of work, injury is not too uncommon and you can't hope to keep Robin safe from it all. None of us can, no matter how much we would want to." She kneeled down before him and ran a gentle hand through his red locks, flicking away small bits of debris that had remained from the fight.
"But why? Why was I everywhere but where I should've been? Why wasn't I there to help him?" the teen whimpered, shuddering. With two fingers, Dinah pushed his chin up. His face was inflamed and tear-stained, pain contorting every fragment of his expression. His eyes begged for release from a reality he did not want to accept; imploring someone, anyone, to make it so that none of this would have happened. "He can't die…Rob…he just can't die. I don't know what I'd do if he did…"
Superboy looked away from the younger boy's broken words, unsure what to make of the situation and his own sentiments. He'd learned about death from the Genomorphs in Cadmus, but it was a vague lesson, just pure, hard facts and the science and physiology behind it. Despite it all, he'd never fathomed it could have such a staggering effect on people, much less himself. It was too much to handle at the moment; the horrible shredding sensation inside his breastbone, the teeming corrosion of his willpower and restraint, and the cold twist of guilt had him feeling like a beast on the threshold of a rampage. Wally's behavior and words struck something inside him, but without name for it—much less understanding—he was left at a loss. The void could only be filled by vexation and fury it seemed, of which he could at least identify, but that still was not enough.
Eventually, his eyes dithered back toward Kid Flash, who had by then wilted in the arms of Black Canary.
"It's okay to be sad, Wally," she was saying, more towards the speedster, but loud enough for the entire team to hear. "It's okay to be scared and to worry, but you can't blame yourself for something completely beyond anyone's control." Dinah looked up, meeting eyes with each young hero. "None of you should."
This seemed to strike the group as a whole, and silence once more dominated the space. She turned back to Kid Flash and Conner eventually became aware that her next words fell on deaf ears—the boy had finally lost consciousness from exhaustion and now rested limply in her arms.
When Black Canary noticed the speedster's condition, she carefully lifted him and handed him over to Red Tornado—who'd been quietly observing from the beginning—and asked if he could tend his wounds.
"What are you going to do with him," Conner blurted before he could think. Wally, despite how outstandingly frustrating he was on a day-to-day basis, held some of the clone's concern. Whether this spawned from curiosity of his reactions or genuine worry, Conner didn't know.
Several eyes trained on him at the outburst. Black Canary turned to face him and remarked, "He's going to have his injuries taken care o—"
"What happened?!"
The present group whipped around, startled, to find Red Arrow skulking toward them, tensed like a bow, face warped in an array of harsh lines and disquiet. His entrance had not been anticipated nor perceived.
It seemed as though he wasn't yet sure whether to be angry or worried, though it was apparent he hadn't much say on the emotions that wracked him. But, how was he supposed to feel after receiving an urgent call from Wally requesting immediate backup on a mission, only to arrive at a devastated call site and the young teens nowhere to be found? What was he supposed to think upon seeing that scorched crater in the middle of the city and splashes of dried blood all about the fight zone? The overdrawing supremacy of his emotions was a shock to the eighteen-year-old, who had not anticipated such from himself. He'd presumed more self-control on his part.
Added to the fact that the team was M.I.A. upon his arrival, it had been Kid Flash that had contacted him, not Robin, which was in itself cause for some worry to anyone knowledgeable of the latter's persona.
Robin—primarily the most experienced of all the young heroes, more so even than Roy himself—was the team's strategist, hacker, and the center of communication to all external sources. Of anyone who was to contact him or the League, the most likely person to do so would be the boy wonder. Were it to be anyone else, then there could be four likely possibilities for it: one, Robin might've not been assigned to that particular mission to begin with; two, he was otherwise occupied with intel or combat, perhaps both; three, his communication systems were either damaged or jammed; or four, he was out of commission or in other words, injured. Extreme as those conclusions might seem from such little conclusive evidence, experience speaks in majority for those prospects.
From the look of the battle zone and the mutilated remains of what seemed to be Mr. Twister (2.0)—as Wally had so graciously divulged to him—the red-head was at least able to ascertain the success of the team against this new foe. He also recognized the usage of Robin's prototype bomb which, although imperfect, was unmistakably deadly; a clear sign that the battle was a difficult one. Still, this employment of weaponry could not prove or disprove the boy wonder's wellbeing, nor could it explain the presence of blood seen throughout the area, which did scarcely to alleviate the worst of the likelihoods; something which still left a lead-like cool in his limbs as he'd watched the blood stains brown in the afternoon sun.
Despite all his power of deduction, he could not help the drowning sensation of worry and vex that overcame him. Hardly did he have enough answers to pose any amount of defense toward the cacophony of questions mustering in his skull, and with so numerous bystanders and the essentially useless police force flooding the scene, his patience had been waning thin. Oh, how the decadent lure to send them all scattering with a shot of his arrow coaxed him…
He'd restrained himself quite successfully.
Out of curious concern, though, prior to departure, Roy retrieved a few samples of the blood—the owner of which was of great issue to the young adult—but he'd not accumulated the time to analyze it for himself, opting instead to try the mountain base where Kid Flash and Robin were most likely at.
This is what led him to where he was currently, approaching the congregation of heroes with such bitter feelings. Had Wally and Dick not been acquainted with that ridiculous team, Roy's involvement with the group's dealings would have been little to none; his only concern was of his younger "brothers". The effect was therefore intensified upon seeing Wally limp in Red Tornado's arms. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening tremendously in his embodied fears. "Wally?"
Hell could not have stopped Roy from reaching the speedster once his wilted shock melted the ice of his limbs, and Dinah's and Kaldur's words were hardly enough to gain attention. Red Arrow descended on the fifteen-year-old's minder like a storm, hardly detaining the urge to commandeer his "brother" from the android's arms for the former's sake and condition.
His hand instantly found the boy's cheek, but withdrew just as quickly to his side, clenching in a fist as he took in the dried blood smeared about the speedster's suit and the gashes along his back. Further inspection learned him the exhaustion and suffering Wally had underwent and Roy's rage steadily boiled to a newer level.
Rigidly, he turned to the others present, teeth grinding much like the speedster's had earlier and leered with a force that could have impressed Batman.
Miss Martian tensed, sensing the stagnant fury that had plagued so many of her friends in so short a time. Aqualad saw her shrink back and stepped slightly forward, hoping to relieve some of the brunt of the emotions he recognized but could not physically feel.
M'gann, I am sorry you must endure this…I know it must be hard for you. He communicated to her, highlight eyes focused on Red Arrow.
A whimper escaped her and she secretly wiped the tears that leapt from her eyes. She didn't know how to respond or even react; this whole situation had her at her wits end.
"Red Arrow," Dinah questioned flatly, knowing what would come next.
His eyes found her and narrowed further.
"Where's Robin?" His tone was dry, low and held a glimmer of dreaded anticipation.
Kaldur opened his mouth to respond, but was silenced by Roy's raised hand. The latter shut his eyes, then opened them a moment later, pupils dilated and riveted on the bow in his hand.
"Tell me…what happened…" he grinded out, trying not to hyperventilate.
It was at this moment, this chaotic instant of raw emotional vent for all present that the real trigger became apparent to M'gann. She understood initially the pain everyone felt, but now she grasped the back layer of it all. The brutal antiphons she'd witnessed were each individual's maladies breaking free before their own dread could consume them wholly; it was each person's bond with another and the fear of losing that bond that brought forth the guilt, the pain, the anger, and the sorrow. The complexity of sentiments was new to her, as in Mars not much was unidentifiable in regards to emotions being that all were linked telepathically by comprehensive nexus versus intermittent links.
"I'll…show you…" Miss Martian proffered cautiously, fidgeting with her hands before meeting eyes with the distraught eighteen-year-old, "I'll show all of you."
Kaldur's gaze slid past the alien to notice two more females standing silently at the end of the hallway where Red Arrow had previously entered.
The dark-haired enchantress and blond archer maintained their position, knowing better than to barge in when it was so visibly a poor notion.
Artemis' eyes trained on the latent speedster, the sight causing her lips to tauten and scowl. The blond felt her throat constrict but she reserved herself from acting on her sentiments. Spraying gas on a wildfire would leave her burnt.
Red Arrow directed his body to face the young martian, muscles so tense his figure quivered with the strain. "Well?" he hissed, scarcely censoring his impatience and exasperation. "Get on with it." Superboy's livid glower failed to derive any form of recognition from the eighteen-year-old.
M'gann nodded nevertheless. If there was anything she could do to help, this was it. Such an opportunity she would gladly seize. "Open your mind to me. I promise not to impose beyond the extent needed to relay the events." Her eyes then took semblance of beacons; jade luminosity and igniting. "I'll piece together any memories I'm lacking from the others…"
Roy cautiously allowed the intrusion, feeling Miss Martian's manifestation and the abrupt inflow of memories playing within his vista like a movie reel…
Her eyes glinted white…
…
…
Robin.
You love me. Don't deny it. You know you do. Just admit it.
*dodges a rock thrown at her face*
I UPDATED! :D
In all honesty though, this chapter was kinda weird to write. Trying to portray the malestrum of sentiments spewed forth from a bunch of angsty, stressed out, teen superheroes is much harder than it sounds... What's more, trying to maintain some semblance of their actual personalities pretty much calls for smacking my head against a concrete wall. Still, I hope you all liked it!
PLEASE review and tell me your thoughts, questions, suggestions and constructive critiques!
The only thing that actually got me to push this chappy out were the thoughtful reviews I recently came across (totally go MIA at times...college, work & life people, deal with it). That said, THANK YOU MY LOVELY REVIEWERS & DEDICATED READERS!
Next chappy will have more Robin & KF. Yaaayyy! Poor Dicky, I'm so cruel to him! And Wally, um, Wally needs a hug...from Dick...and band-aid. ;3
- Edited 1/8/17 -
-Kit