Shadows Of My Own (Young Justice Fanfiction)

Chapter 7: Saturday 10th February

Bang

Sweat trickled down my back, making my shirt cling to my spine. My sore hands were red and swollen, going dead white around my knuckles. My legs ached, screaming for me to stop. But I didn't. I needed this, a release. An outlet for my heightening emotions.

Bang. Bang.

I threw my hands at the black leather punching bag twice more. The material was rough and caused my hands to almost bleed. I punched again, again and again. I couldn't stop if I wanted to. It was like a foreign creature had taken control of my mind, working my body breathless until it dropped.

I screamed in frustration and threw my arm at it again, but immediately retracted it when the bag made contact. I stumbled back on the thin mat, clutching my hurting arm. I must have thrown it the wrong way. I mentally scolded myself for being so stupid. I should never let my emotions overcome my control, I knew that, but I ignored it. If this were a real fight I would have been screwed.

I leant against the cold, stiff wall behind me to catch my breath. But all at once the thoughts that I had been blocking out for the past hour came rushing back into my head. But this time I didn't battle them, I knew of course, that I would have to face it someday.

I remember the talk with Batman. Him informing me that no one knew how me and Artemis got down into that lobby. Or how I was miraculously healed, because I know that I was. I distinctly remember the painful sensation of the fire dancing on, and around my legs.

The worst part of all, is that the Joker was still in gaol, which meant he had someone working on the outside. Someone skilled, powerful. Someone he trusted, and someone that his gang followed the command of.

That someone was my enemy.

I had vowed to find them when I saw Artemis. I couldn't help my heart shattering, or tears flooding my eyes when I looked at her. She was laying on her bed, still asleep, with burns, bruises and cuts littering her entire body from her head, to her toes.

I only looked through the glass panels of the infirmary though. I couldn't stand to actually be in the same room with the friend that almost died because of me. What would I say? How could I make up for the torture I had brought her into?

Channelling my anger this time, I ran at the punching bag once more. Not only smacking it with my hands, but also attacking with my feet. Giving everything I had.

Eventually the bag could no longer take the strain, and broke from the rope that attached it to the roof. It dropped to the floor with a loud thud, creating a small dust cloud around its outline.

I groaned, putting my hands on the back of my head and walking around aimlessly in little circles.

"What did that punching bag ever do to you?"

Looking over, I saw that Robin was standing in the doorway of the large training room.

I frowned, slightly annoyed that he chose this time to talk to me. I turned my attention back to the broken punching bag.

"Do you ever go home?" I asked him. It was clear that Robin spent most of his time here at the cave.

Putting his hands in his pockets he sauntered across the room. "I do, but it gets kinda lonely. I'd rather be here." He answered.

I turned to him surprised. I didn't notice how open he seemed to be about his emotions. Actually, there were a lot of things, minor things, that I hadn't noticed about him before.

I could see he had changed put of his Robin costume into black pants and a green hoodie, that was only zipped up halfway. He had also switched his mask for a pair on sunglasses, meaning that even though I saw him, I would never see his eyes.