Forgotten | YJ

→ NIGHTMARES ←

Author note: Chapter 4!! This ones a bit angsty! I thought it was important to add nightmares into the story, because you have to remember that at that age, Dick recently lost his parents, just a heads up. Thanks for the support on this book, you people seem to really like it so I'll definitely try to update at least once a week. Vote and/or comment if you enjoy. Thanks!

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Dick remembered their horror-filled faces too vividly. He remembered watching them fall down, down, and down... And then finally, they hit the ground with a splat. That's how all of his nightmares went. It was always the same memory. He didn't remember anything that happened after that, he was too traumatized.

Every time they fell, as he desperately climbed down the ladder as if he could still save them, the sickening crack noise seemed to get louder and their bodies seemed to bleed more than the last nightmare.

Then he would shake their lifeless bodies, even though he already knew they wouldn't come back.

And then?

The memory ended- ironically silenced by a single heart-wrenching scream.

Eight year old Dick Grayson woke, his forehead sweaty and his throat dry from the scream he let out. He was used to being covered in sweat at night with a raw throat. However, he would never get used to the reoccurring nightmare- no, memory.

Bruce or Alfred would always come into his room to comfort him. Some nights were worse than others. Some nights he could concentrate on Bruce's soothing words, and other nights he could only hear ringing in his ears. But he didn't have anyone right now.

Accepting the fact that if he were to fall asleep again he'd wake someone up, he turned on the lamp sitting on the bedside table. It was a dim yet comforting glow.

Sitting cross legged, the small acrobat withdrew from his senses, focusing on his breathing.

It was midnight. For five more hours he sat on the bed meditating, the light from the lamp giving him enough reassurance and security to push the horrifying thoughts of his past to the corner of his mind.

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Later in the morning
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When Megan walked into the kitchen she jumped a bit when she saw Robin sitting at one of the bar stools, kicking his legs back and forth. At six in the morning.

"Hi." He greeted, not moving his glance from his fingers which were tapping the granite counter top.

"Hi Robin..." Megan replied awkwardly.

After receiving no reply, the redhead cleared her throat as she walked towards the cupboards. "Do you want breakfast?" She asked kindly, giving him a warm smile.

"I already ate." He lied, his gaze still locked on his hands resting on the table. His legs continuing to swing back and forth casually.

When Robin finally looked up, it was hard to miss the sad expression plastered on the Martian's face. He gave a short sigh, and gave in. "I guess I'm still hungry. I do like to eat."

"Wonderful! Since I didn't get to finish the pancakes yesterday I have some leftover batter. How does that sound?" She offered, her face lightening up once again.