He Always Knows

He Always Knows

Gone. All of them are gone. Manhunter should have Miss M. out by now. We're down to the last few seconds now, and I know that it's hopeless. The doors are sealed shut—I don't think even Superman could get through them—and we're surrounded by the aliens.
   Kid Flash grabs my hand. It wasn't in a gay way, but in a goodbye that didn't need to be spoken. Roy will be pissed and probably grow a beard like the one Oliver had—if the earth survives.
   I can't help but think of Babs. If the earth is saved, I hope she'll be happy, and will be ok with me not telling her that I was Robin.
   I want to live so badly, just to be with her, tell her that I love her. But then I remember Kaldur, Artemis, Conner, the Justice League, Bruce… Bruce. My father for the past four years. He was always there and always knew when something was wrong, or when I was afraid.
   Now I want to die, just to see Bruce one last time, see my team, the League who had been like my aunts and uncles. See my parents. Do why know I'm Robin? If so, are they proud?
   My thoughts end as the bombs finally go off, and I allowed myself a final sound—a scream of pain—as the flames burn through my costume and lick at my skin.
   It all hurts so bad, and I finally realize why people are always either overwhelmd or underwhelmed, because it's near impossible to reach that certain happy-medium of just whelmed.
   I actually see my whole like flash before my eyes and the last thing I feel—besides the flames—is my best friend's hand slipping out of my own. Then suddenly, it's completely dark. No Wally, Kaldur, Artemis or Conner. No Justice League. No Bruce. No Mom and Dad.
   I'm alone in the darkness, completely isolated from anything besides the shadows. I want to cry, not in pain—because that went away as soon as the darkness engulfed me—but in despair. Why would I ever be soon vain to think I would go up to a better place? Self loathing quickly takes over my mind, as I remember all of the horrible things that I've done in my 13 years of life.
   The thoughts that went through my mind as I stood over Zucco, thinking of all of the ways I could kill him, the brutal, disturbing tortures and pain I could inflict on him. 9 years old and I was dead on the inside, already stuck in that not-so-happy-medium world between Heaven and Hell. Wasn't it called Limbo or something like that?
   I feel tears coming from my eyes now, which are no longer covered by a mask. I'm no longer Robin, but Richard John Grayson. I wonder what happened to Robin… did he die, too, or was he just forgotten? Was it really possible for two different people to exist in one body together and also die together? Would there be two separate tombstones for the two different lives lead—one for Robin and one for Dick—or would it just be one, for the one body?
   I try to wipe the tears away—neither Robin or Dick Grayson cry—but I can't feel my body. I don't feel anything but the pain and sadness and I wonder if all of my friends are up in Heaven right now, sad that I wasn't allowed to join them.
   The darkness suddenly starts to fade, and it scares me. Fire starts to come back and I immediately wonder if I'm being sent to hell now for my cold-hearted, sinful life. I wasn't doing wrong by fighting crime, though, was I? I was the good guy! I was stopping the wrong-doers. But I guess in the end, it doesn't really matter what you do.
   I feel myself stop breathing for a split second as the fire gets bigger and hotter. I'm being dragged toward it, like gravity is no longer keeping me afloat in the darkness, but instead shoving me down to my eternity of pain.
   I have no fire-proof costume to protect me anymore, but it doesn't matter; this much fire could break through the fabric I used to wear every night. I try to scream, but no sound comes out at first, until my breath suddenly comes back to me, along with dimmed lights and a scream of fear and pain.
   The first thing I notice is that I'm still burning, but there's no flame. I feel sick, like I could throw up at any second, but… I don't remember the last time I ate anything. And why was I here? Was I a ghost now, trapped back on earth, being forced to watch as everything I know is destroyed? Is this my punishment for not saving anyone? Was I wrong to risk Superboy, or to doubt Kaldur's leading skills when he kept information from us? Should I have gotten so mad at M'gann for going into my head after she had only been on earth for a few days?
   I'm so confused, and it all hurts, everything. My head is killing me and my stomach felt like it's made of lead. But do ghosts feel pain? I don't think so, nor to ghosts sweat so much, which means I must be… but I couldn't be alive! I had felt myself die! I was surrounded by that horrid darkness, feeling completely numb and… dead.
   My head hurts even more as I ponder this. It can't be possible, I'm dead, I'm—
   "What happened in there?" it's all I need to hear to know that I'm not dead.
   "The exercise… it all went wrong."
   "Exercise?" I ask, finally sitting up. My body was still killing me and I was sweating like crazy, but I found myself grateful for that, because it covered up the tears. I couldn't let anyone—especially not Batman—see that I was crying. My mind was screaming at me for it, telling me to snap out of it.
   I listen as it was explained. I can't even tell who's talking anymore; I'm focusing more on not getting sick on the spot.
   I'm finally able to focus and hear Manhunter, Bats and Red Tornado talking.
   "—My niece in untrained and can not be held accountable to any of this," J'onn was saying. It makes sense, but then…
   "No one blamed her," Bruce. I see his face and know that deep down, he did blame her. He doesn't seem to want to, but he does. Daddy Bats can really get annoying sometimes.
   I stop listening to their conversation. Bruce always said not to eavesdrop unless it was on the enemy. Neither J'onn, Bruce, nor Red Tornado are the enemy, so it isn't my business. I look back to the team. Kaldur and Superboy are comforting M'gann, and Wally and Artemis are awkwardly standing together. Artemis seems to know what Wally had done after she "died."
   I want to go over to them, but I'm still shaking, memories of the exercise still flashing through my mind, until they eventually turned into my parents, falling, the sound of bones snapping. I shake my head, trying to get the image out, but it doesn't work.
   I glance over and see M'gann looking at me. She can tell something is wrong, which doesn't surprise me, but she won't say anything. It's something better left unsaid at this point.
   I try to stop the tears, but they don't listen to me. In this moment, I'm thankful that Bruce makes me wear sunglasses around the team. I look over to where Bruce had been a moment before and see he wasn't there. I feel my lip start to tremble a little. It's stupid, I know, but I can't help it.
   He's gone again. I'll go home once my legs stop vibrating and talk to Alfred. Bruce has probably left to go on patrol, leaving me behind, knowing I won't be able to do much tonight.
   But then there's a hand on my shoulder. I see it out of the corner of my eye. It's not anyone from the team, nor is it J'onn, Captain Marvel or RT. It's Batman. No, it's Bruce Wayne. Behind the cowl, he has a worried expression, and in that moment I realize my mistake.
   He sits down on the concrete next to me and wraps his arm around I shoulders, his cape covering me, giving me a silent invitation, which I respond to instantly, pressing my face into his chest, snuggling into the warm embrace. Neither of us care that the team is watching, shocked expressions on each of their faces. The League members there all have knowing looks as they know of my past. They know about my parents and know what my mistake was.
   "You always know," I say into Bruce's shoulder now, looking up at him slightly.
   "What kind of father would I be if I didn't?" he asks, and I am amazed to see a smile of his face before he places his chin on the top of my head.
   And here we stay for what seems like hours until I finally feel the tears stopping as a warm darkness makes its way into my mind. It's not a suffocating, terrifying darkness, but a friendly, restful darkness. The darkness of falling asleep in front of a fire on a cold winter's day after eating some cookies and drinking a hot cup of cocoa. The darkness of safety as I drift off in the arms of my father, sitting under his cape, feeling the sweat finally stopping and my headache fading.

…The end