Just Robin Oneshots Part 2

"Whatever happens, I'm not going to blame you."

S u f f e r

EDIT: TW BLOOD//MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

This wasn't how he was supposed to lose Dick. He was supposed to lose him when he was old and had lived a good life. He was supposed to go out in bed with his family surrounding him and telling him how much they loved him. It wasn't supposed to be painful for him. Everything was supposed to be painless and swift because that's what he deserved. He deserved so much more than he got. 

Nightwing found Robin before the rest of his family. He ordered them to find whoever was controlling his youngest brother whilst he held said brother off. They agreed since he'd fought Damian before and won. It wouldn't be too bad to fight him again. Once they left, Robin became aware of a new presence and turned around. He brandished his sword, making Nightwing gulp. Admittedly he felt a little intimidated by the weapon since he remembered the many cuts it had given him before. Another thing that intimidated him was Robin's completely expressionless face. He knew there would be no feelings involved in the fight but seeing it was different. "Damian, I know you're in there. We're gonna help you but you need to work with me here," Nightwing announced. There was a fault in his voice because he knew that Robin's one weakness in fighting was no longer there. Anger. Without anger making him fight irrationally then he was quite a formidable fighter. More so than usual. Robin didn't respond. He didn't expect him to. "Whatever happens, I'm not going to blame you," he added and God he hoped Robin could hear him. 

Robin ran towards him with the sword in hand and attempted to slice right through him but Nightwing jumped away. He pulled out his escrima sticks and blocked yet another blow from the sword. He pushed the younger away and backflipped away to get some distance between them. Robin quickly closed that distance, violently thrashing his sword around in hopes of landing a hit. Each time, Nightwing prevented him from landing on his skin. "Damian, c' mon you're a strong kid. I know you can break the link," he insisted. He wholeheartedly believed what he was saying which he hoped would convince the last bit of autonomy left inside his brother. Robin caught his forearm with the tip of his sword and a hiss of pain left the older's lips. He took a few steps back and jumped up to dodge another stroke of the sword then kicked the other's hand. The sword was flung across the room and he grabbed hold of Robin so he couldn't retrieve it. "Listen to me. Please listen. You can break the link. You've just got to fight hard eno-FUCK-." Robin had plunged a dagger deep into his side and pushed him to the floor. He wiped the blood off his hands and looked around for where his sword had ended up. 

Whilst he did this, Nightwing sucked in a deep breath as he pulled the dagger out. It narrowly missed some important organs but he could work through the pain long enough to keep the fight up. He got to his feet and glanced around for the younger. He needed eyes on him at all times if he wanted to get through this alive. He whipped around just at the right moment to block a slice from the sword with his arm. The blade dug into his skin and blood spurted from the wound as he yelped in pain. "You're taking your time in there buddy," he wheezed out as he tried to breathe through the pain. Robin moved his sword around then pulled it out, releasing a tidal wave of crimson. Yet there was no reaction from the perpetrator. That was truly frightening to see but Nightwing didn't know what he expected. He reeled back and tried to nurse his wound whilst avoiding attacks. 

Then the attacks stopped. Robin stood still. Nightwing smirked to himself and moved closer, thinking that finally, this ordeal was all over. "Thank God for that. You're really hard to beat and I'm pretty sure I've got some mad blood loss," he said in a joking matter. Robin didn't respond but seemed to acknowledge that he was saying something. That would be enough. Maybe he was still trying to break free of the control or was taking in what he'd done to his (obviously favourite) brother. "It's fine you know. Mind control makes us do crazy things," Nightwing told him. His tone was light and reassuring. If you heard it without seeing him you'd presume he was completely fine. Robin hadn't let go of his sword. Nightwing should've taken that seriously. He thought nothing of it. When he got a little closer to tussle the younger's hair to further assure him he wasn't mad at him, he realized his fatal mistake. Robin hadn't broken the link. He was just waiting. Anger had made him inpatient when he fought. Without anger he was patient. Patient enough to wait for the right moment and pause to get the perfect shot. 

The blade was cold as it ripped through Nightwing's chest and poked out through the other side. Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt the surge of pain run through his body. He screamed louder than he ever had before. His legs gave out on him so now all his weight was rested on the sword, making him scream more. Robin let go of his weapon and let his brother fall to the floor. He watched on without a hint of remorse. That scared Nightwing. It scared him so much. He didn't want that to be the last face he saw. Blood trickled out of the side of his mouth and became mingled with his tears. Everything hurt so much. He wanted everything to be over. He wanted to go to sleep and wake up later to his loving family. Nightwing stared at his brother, begging him to at least hold his hand as he went even if his expression never changed. Despite begging for this final act of comfort, he didn't receive it. "Please Dami, please," he choked out. He could feel himself slipping out of this world. This was all he wanted. Didn't he deserve that? He reached out pathetically to grab the younger's leg so he could at least have something but his hand was kicked away. A sob ripped through his throat at the cruelty. 

Black dots invaded Nightwing's vision as he slowly bled out. He wheezed and hissed. Silently, he begged for death to come faster. Maybe the Almighty was listening that day or his blood was running thinner than usual but death did come faster. He could feel it coming on. He closed his eyes and let it happen. His body went limp.

"Grayson?" Damian whispered, looking down at the dead hero. He'd snapped out of it but it was too late. He dropped to his knees and screamed. His hands hovered over the body, unable to touch the person he loved the most because he'd hurt him the most. He remembered everything which only made it worse. Dick's final moments were so lonely even though he was standing right there. He pulled the sword out of his chest as he was unable to stand the grotesque look of it sticking out. He threw it across the room with an angered yell. Cautiously, he put Dick's head on his lap and wiped away the tears and blood. The sight hurt so much. He wasn't supposed to die by his hand. This was wrong. Footsteps came running down the hallway but he couldn't take his eyes away from the dead face of his brother. It was so pale and unnatural. It would surely haunt him forever. "Richard!" Bruce shrieked, running forward. 

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it," Damian told him. His tone was begging for forgiveness but Bruce was more concerned with his first son. The man who he'd seen grow up and who'd done so much for him without asking for anything back. He'd pulled Bruce out of depressions, covered for him, cared for him, loved him even though he was the hardest person to love. All of that he did and Bruce couldn't even be there to comfort him if he went. "My son," he whimpered, brushing the hair out of Dick's face and kissing his forehead. There was no point in the action but it felt right. 

"We were too slow," Jason said, choking back a sob whilst he hugged Tim.

"No this is all my fault," Damian insisted. "I did it." They were all crying and half expecting Dick to wake up to tell them all to quiet down. To say that they were making this a big bummer. 

The funeral was beautiful. They put blue flowers everywhere and had pictures of him grinning from ear to ear. Those photos weren't hard to find. He was always so happy. A lot of heroes came but they tried to make it scattered so that people didn't get suspicious at the sudden gathering of people from all around America. They exchanged stories of the bright happy man that had died so awfully. Nobody blamed Damian. Every hero knew how they'd almost killed their friends and family whilst under mind control, it was just that this time Damian had succeeded. Despite this, Damian blamed himself for the events. He didn't remember what Dick assured him until he was sat in front of the grave alone. His fingers trailed over the carving of his eldest brother's name almost to make sure that this was all real and not fake. "I'm so sorry Richard," he mumbled, looking down at the floor in self-loathing. Then he heard a faint chirping. Confused he glanced up. In front of him, sitting on the grave, was a robin. It chirped louder and hoped down to be closer to him. "Richard, please forgive me," he said. He realized how stupid this was. He was talking to a bird that just happened to be on his brother's grave and just happened to be a robin. Although, it was odd for it to be so close to him without flying away. Why was it coming even closer? It looked at him as if he was saying something. "What?" Damian asked. The bird chirped and jumped over to the grave, pecking at a certain word. Understanding. It moved to another word. Loving. Damian stared at those words. They sent him back to a moment when he was just about to begin the fatal fight. "Whatever happens, I'm not going to blame you." He stared at the grave and rested his hand on top of it. "I love you."

I just had to get it out of my system