JADE (young justice/robin)

26. maim, don't kill (year one)

an: i want to toss out a warning since there are going to be some themes throughout this book, specifically addiction/drug abuse that may be triggering to some readers. if so, i strongly advise that you don't read any further, but for those of you who do, I want you to know that I've done a lot of research (particularly in a classroom setting) to depict these themes accurately, but more importantly in a respectful manner.

Gotham
January 17, 23:49 EST
Team Year 1

robin.

Once the casket was buried, a clear series of events happened for Carter.

First, she had to hold a blank stare while watching her little sister be put in the ground.

Second, Canary and Superman confiscated her suit. They told her she was benched from any team activity until she could attend the necessary health check-ins. The worst part was I understood why they did it. In her condition, I wouldn't put it past Jade to attempt avenging Eden in an extremely violent way.

After that, Alfred showed Carter to the room that she refused to leave.

No matter how long I'd wait, she wouldn't open the door for me. I'd sit against her door for hours, talking even though I couldn't be sure she was listening.

I didn't need her to come out, but at the least I wanted to know if she was okay. I needed to know if she managed to get any sleep or eat anything. I already lost Eden; I can't have Carter waste away in that room and lose her too.

Finally, though, after two weeks, there was a small knock on my door.

In the middle of the night, my body shot up from my bed. Please. Please. Please be— "Hi."

Carter was in the doorway, hugging herself. There wasn't enough light to clearly see her, but the reflection of the moonlight in her eyes told me that she'd been crying — or at least, trying not to. More than anything, though, she looked so tired. There was an exhaustion that painted her body, weighed her down.

It was the most vulnerable I'd ever seen her.

"Dick," her voice scratched, sounding just as frail as when we first met. "Can I..?"

"Come here."

I pulled her into the room, holding her up from all the uneven steps she took.

She crawled into my bed, burying herself into me as her breathing grew heavier.

"Carter?" I said quietly, speaking at a volume that she would find most comfortable.

"What?"

"You know, I'll still love you even if you cry."

Her grip on the sheets and my shoulder tightened, fighting the urge to breakdown. But soon, her face disappeared into my chest and hushed sobs began to leave her throat.

A half hour passed, maybe longer, but her breathing finally began to slow.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, loosening her grip on my shoulder.

"You didn't do anything wrong."

Something shifted in her tone. Like the words she was speaking weren't really her own.

"Champions don't cry."

"Whoever told you that has never loved anyone."

"I thought she loved me."

Shiva. Shiva and The Shadows molded her into believing that she didn't have the right to grieve.

"Not how I do."