Electric Flame

2.15

Dick Grayson

There wasn't a single word to describe how I was feeling: completely confused; bountifully bewildered; perfectly puzzled; absolutely abashed; painstakingly perplexed. So many questions consumed my thoughts.

Was I that bad of a kisser? None of the other girls reacted this way.

Was my breath that bad that she fainted and blacked out with no warning?

But most of all, I wanted to know why.

Why did the universe hate me? I just got her back. She had finally returned to me, and the world took her away again. Why now? Why? I just wanted-- no, I needed-- to know why. 

The consistent beeping was driving me insane.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The infuriating sound echoed through my mind, bouncing off of my brain until it was embedded in memory, until I was unable to hear anything but the disturbance.

My own heart beat against my chest, and I couldn't help but wish it was me. I wished I was the one lying unconscious instead. I'd rather have my life hanging by a thread thinner than a strand of hair than her. 

She should be able to continue on and live, get married and have kids-- though I'd prefer it be with me. I was just an ordinary human being. Sure, I could kick criminal butt like a boss, but she's a superhuman with extraordinary abilities. She could contribute to the world, and no matter how hard I may try, I couldn't and never will.

The heart rate monitor continued to rack my brain. I closed my eyes, hoping to drown out the noise.

It's no use, someone in the back of my head convinced me, though I assured myself otherwise.

I shoved my hands in my pockets to refrain from ripping my hair out. I needed to get it cut, but that was not an option. All I could do was stare, stare at the dozens of wires and tubes barely keeping her alive.

"Is she any better?" Jason asked as he approached me from behind.

"You tell me. Does she look any better?" I remarked, irritation evident in my tone as I turned around to face him. What I saw left me shocked.

Jason's eyebrows were creased analytically and dark bags laid underneath his once sea green eyes. His corneas were bloodshot and his jaw unshaven. His auburn hair that contained a single streak of silver wasn't the only mess but he as a whole, too. The guy looked sickly and obviously hadn't been resting well, if at all.

Why was he so affected by this? I couldn't stop myself from rushing to conclusions. A part of me felt uneasy but ashamed. For some reason, I felt jealousy but also guilt. He shook his head to avoid the question, obviously a soft subject.

Then, the door burst open and none other than a steaming Damian Wayne entered my lane of view.

Oh, no.

"What the hell did you do to her, Grayson?" Damian yelled as he stomped into the Watchtower infirmary.

"Why me? What did I do?" I asked, throwing my hands up into the air in annoyance.

"Guys," Jason tried to compromise.

"Come on, Jay. Tell him I'm innocent," I exclaimed.

"Sorry bud," he surrendered. "You're on your own."

"But--"

An ear shattering shriek interrupted our conversation.

Jason opened his mouth to speak, his eyebrows knit together in inquiry. "What was th--"