The Jest of Robin

14: Laughter and Royalty

Mt. Justice, March 31, 2010, 22:43 EST

The first thing Dick felt when he woke up was confusion. He didn't feel any pain. Why didn't he feel pain? His entire body should be in pain, either due to soreness, or whatever the hell it was Joker did to him. He couldn't open his eyes, but he didn't feel like he was in any rush to open them, so he let himself lie wherever he was contentedly, confused but glad that he didn't feel any pain or soreness.

His peacefulness didn't last long as he remembered what had happened. He was flying again. It had been forever since he had even tried his family's special quadruple flip, but something had stopped him. He couldn't remember what, but he knew he missed the bar. He remembered falling, the vat of eerie liquid getting closer and closer to him. He couldn't hear a lot. Just the sounds of the air rushing past his ears, screaming, and a gunshot.

He'd shot her. Dick did what he wanted, and he still shot the girl. She didn't deserve to die, she didn't deserve to be in that position. She just wanted to save her... her fiance? Brother? Dick couldn't remember which. All he knew was that she was dead, and somehow it was all his fault. He hadn't been able to save her just like he wasn't able to save his parents, how he wasn't able to save anyone during the Failsafe simulation, and how he wasn't going to be able to save anyone else.

Before his breathing could get any more frantic, he heard noises coming from all around him. They were all quiet, voices whispering to neighboring vessels around him. He couldn't make out what any of them were saying, everything too quiet, too mumbled against his ears. He opened his eyes, and light encompassed his face, forcing him to close his eyes again.

No. His eye. Only one of them had opened. Why had only one eye opened? Where was he? He didn't remember what had happened after falling, after hearing the gunshot echo in his ears as he began falling to his death. Was he still with Joker? Was he still in danger? That wouldn't make sense. He wasn't in pain. There wasn't a moment when he was with the Joker that some sort of pain didn't take hold of everything he was feeling. Sometimes, when the physical pain dulled to a minor ache, the emotional torture, the laughing would start again.

Dick scowled slightly. He hated the sound of his laugh, of his cackle now. His signature, one of his favorite things about being a hero, was ruined. He loved seeing the bad guys and villains when they heard Robin's cackle, loved seeing how they would cower in fear, and half of the time give up right away whenever they heard his devilish cackle. He had loved it, partially because it was something he chose to do! He could choose to cackle all he wanted and Batman would always let him do it. Now he couldn't choose. Joker had forced his laugh out of his throat countless times, turning his happiness into pain.

"Dick?" Dick released his scowl, not realizing he had been making it. He tried to open his eyes again, and as before had to close them fairly quickly, the brightness of the light being the only pain he could feel. He heard the voices mumbling again, unable to register the words before he was gently shook on his shoulder. He opened his eye, and was pleased to see all but one of the lights in the room had turned off, a lamp in the corner of the room being the only source of light. He gladly turned his head away from the lamp. Sitting next to him, he could see Bruce, Wally and Artemis. He could only assume the rest of the group was on the other side of him, or Bruce had sent them away so as to not crowd him. "B?"

Even though he had only said one word, one letter, his voice wavered and scratched horribly. That and the light were the only pains he could feel. He coughed a few times. "Hey chum. Don't try to speak okay?"

As always, Dick didn't listen to him. "Where am I?" He finished with another cough.

"Mount Justice. The Young Justice team found you, and brought you here as soon as they could." Dick gave a hum of acknowledgement. He didn't know what had happened after he fell, but he could figure either M'gann or Wally had something to do with it. He looked at Bruce, and could see he was feeling guilty for what had happened. Part of him felt sorry for the old guy, but the other part was angry he didn't feel worse. If he hadn't left Dick in Gotham, or hell, if he had stayed in Gotham, none of this would have happened. It was Bruce's fault partially. He was worried about their secret identities being found out, but he could have just let Dick go with him to London and said Robin was going to protect them. Bruce was supposed to be with him, he was supposed to stay. They were supposed to release the robins together, just like they had the previous years, but no. Bruce insisted he had to leave, and insisted that Dick would be fine. The team would watch out for him, keep him safe. See how much that helped him.