Robin one shot part 3!

I killed him

Every week since Jason died and even after finding him alive, Dick went to his grave. He knew it wasn't particularly healthy when the person he was grieving was very much alive but he still did it. At the end of the day, the grave needed to be kept up even if the occupant was no longer there and it was therapeutic. In the early days, he'd used it to torture himself but over the years it had become a spot where he could just let out everything he'd been feeling and although there'd never been a reply, he felt lighter when he left. 

This visit had been brought on by the very person's grave he was visiting. Jason was going on and on about Joker, making joke after joke about his death whilst also making it clear he was displeased with how everything turned out. Dick got it. Well, not completely but he could understand as much as any other person with empathy could. He'd felt the same sort of anger before with Bruce and he'd definitely felt that angry with Joker before. Enough to beat the man to death. He shuddered at the memory. Usually, it didn't bother him any more than the other things he'd done in his past as a result of his anger. He'd worked hard to get it under control and he'd like to say it was better now. It was just that today, with the constant repetition of how Jason wanted the man dead, he couldn't take the memory of it. He could feel the impact of his fists on Joker's skin, his white face paint mixing with the crimson blood bursting out from split skin and staring as his eyes rolled back yet not feeling a thing until it was all over. 

So he was at Jason's grave with a bucket of cleaning supplies and the need to vent. The ground was dry this time of year aside from the layer of frost so he knelt down and got to work. He didn't say anything at first, simply losing himself in the motion of cleaning away the grime that collected every so often. Since the ritual was weekly to the best of his ability (he'd missed some over the years due to recovery, torture, kidnapping and the like) so there wasn't a lot to clean. It was just a good mindless activity. He replaced the old flowers with new ones and neatened up the displaced dirt that someone else had caused on their last visit. He never asked the others if they visited but every so often he found different flowers than the ones he'd left and sometimes a little keepsake that he made sure remained at the grave. 

When he was done, he sat back and got himself comfortable. He stared at the grave and it felt like the grave was staring back at him expectantly, waiting for whatever was troubling his mind. 

"This is weird isn't it?" he asked the stone. It was a question he'd asked a lot since the habit formed. It made sense to be so careful with the graves of his parents and use them as ways to keep him sane but he didn't often venture to that side of the graveyard. Only on a few occasions would he wander over, greet them and clean their graves too. He felt a little guilty about it. After all, he'd loved and known his parents far longer than he had Jason yet his grave felt better to sit at for hours even before he knew it was empty. He didn't know why. "Guess you're wondering what I'm doing here. I know I come on Fridays usually but I thought I'd give you a surprise visit." He was met with silence but he never expected a reply even when he hallucinated his fellow Robin. "You were making those jokes again. I get it, yknow, I'd be pretty pissed off if I were you. I want to laugh along sometimes because you're such a comedian when you wanna be but I can't. Not when I know what I've done." In the distance, he heard a twig crack but he didn't think much of it. He wasn't always alone in the graveyard so he just lowered his voice and carried on. "I'm glad you've found a way to cope and you know I'm always happy seeing Bruce gets thrown off his game like that. I'm happy you're around more now. You've made so much progress and I'm so proud of you for that. It's why I can't tell you what I did. If I did then it would ruin it all." He laughed softly at that. "When don't I ruin things?"

For a few minutes, he remained quiet and mindlessly picked at the few blades of grass that had fought through Gotham's harsh weather to grow. Maybe he should bring some grass seeds. Some flowers too. See what life could thrive in a place of death. "I've not thought about killing him in a while. Funny that. How I can just throw that to the back of my mind in a way I never could with you. Doesn't seem fair." He knotted the grass blades to keep his hands busy. "Don't get me wrong, unlike you, he deserved it. Hell, I hope he has nightmares about that day. I hope he remembers the only thing that kept him alive was Bruce's morals." He scowled at the ground. "I hope every time he sees me, he remembers when I beat him to death. I hope he knows if I had to, I'd kill him. But I know he doesn't think that. I bet he laughs about it. Thinks it's funny he got me that mad. Tim must've been so freaked out seeing me that mad. I can feel him pulling on my arm sometimes. I can hear that pitch in his voice telling me I went too far." He threw the knots of grass somewhere he didn't care to look. "I wish he hadn't been there to see me like that. I know I have issues with anger and I work on it so hard but you get it, don't you? How you can snap?" He sighed. "Joker should've stayed dead when I killed him and yet here I am regretting it."