[IN THE END] - DICK GRAYSON - YOUNG JUSTICE

CHAPTER 17A

I apologize for this being a day late, but I will make up for it by posting tomorrow.  Comment and keep reading!  Thanks!

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It was three in the morning, and as usual, Richard was up in bed thinking.  However this time the subject was much different.  The question, 'Now what do I do' kept surfacing knowing he had to move on.  Although deep down he knew he could never let this situation go.  But he had to do everything in his favor to at least act like he had moved on.  So for the hundredth time he asked himself.  "Now what do I do?"  And then a familiar voice crept around his head.

"I say live for now.  I mean sure we both have long lives ahead of us but the more time you waste planning out your future, the more time you've taken away from your childhood."

He clenched his fists anger.  Knowing that Wally didn't actually have a longer life ahead of him at all.  Just a few days.  'A few days'.  Richard thought to himself.  So many things can happen in just a few days.  Your loved ones can die, your other loved ones can leave you...  He sat up in his bed now frustrated about the Bruce situation.  He wondered how long it would be until he came back.  If he ever did.  'And if he didn't'.  Richard considered.  "Whatever."  He whispered under his breath. 

Just hours later the sun rose and both Alfred and Richard were in the kitchen eating.  "Did you get a good sleep master Richard."  The younger boy just laughed.  "That's really funny Alf."  He said loosely holding his spoon.  "I don't quite understand master Richard..."  Alfred tried.  "Imagine I could rest my eyes for even five minutes?"  Alfred laughed.  As did Richard himself.  "So what I'm hearing is that you had a wonderful sleep?"  Richard just smirked.  "Yea Alf, I guess I did." 

"If you don't mind master Richard, we must shift gears into something a bit more serious."  Richard slowly placed his spoon in the bowl, giving Alfred his attention, despite the fact he made no eye contact.  "When the time comes I assume you're speaking?"  He asked as he collected his dishes and brought them to the sink.  "Yea.  I... ah think it would be the right thing to do."  Richard responded while he fiddled with the spoon.  "Very well master Richard.  I got word earlier it will be in two days."  The younger boy just stood up as he looked the butler in the eyes.  "We've already shifted to the serious gears so I'm just going to ask."  Alfred nodded.  "Will Bruce be present?"  His voice was filled with seriousness, and a slight hint of fear.  He gripped the handles of his crutches tighter waiting for the response.  "Unfortunately I don't know master Richard.  He has cut off the communications.  I've tried to call but he won't answer."  With that, Richard just turned around and wobbled around the corner.  Knowing Alfred couldn't see or hear him anymore he mumbled under his breath.  "I'll never forgive him if he doesn't show up."  He said shaking his head.  And then the reality kicked in.  "That bitch!"  He said a little louder.

Richard spent the rest of the day thinking about what he was going to say but it was hard on so many levels.  He still hadn't accepted the fact that his best friend died.  He was so deep in denial, that Alfred became very concerned.  "Are you sure you are okay?"  The older man questioned.  "Yea, why wouldn't I be..."  His voice trailed off.  "Master Richard, I feel as though you aren't alright."  Alfred tried.  "Well you know what I feel?  Fine... So you can stop worrying."  At that Richard walked out of the room.  He knew Alfred was just trying to was help, but Alfred didn't know everything about him.  And he wasn't about to stop and explain. 

Around nine Richard limped up the stairs still using his crutches.  Despite the fact his foot felt a little better, Alfred wanted to wait it out just to be safe.  And even though this made Richard very upset considering he hated injuries on multiple levels, he didn't argue because he made Alfred promise that he wouldn't have to use them at the funeral in two days.  Once he was up in his room he changed and hobbled over to his bed.  He sat up against the headboard and brought his knees to his chest.  However he was quick to change his position when he became uncomfortable.  Eyes completely open he started looking into the darkness.  And again he moved.  Two minutes went by before he moved again, but it still wasn't working for him.  Regardless of the position, he was just uncomfortable.  A migraine surfaced, and he grabbed his skull as an immediate response.  His body slightly shuttered, as thoughts ran threw his pounding head.

He stayed in bed for a few hours, still moving around every couple of minutes.  His head was still throbbing, and he didn't know what to do.  He was psychically, emotionally, and mentally weak.  His body shivered as he got cold, but he refused to throw a blanket over his body.  His chest became as cool, and he felt as though his heart was frozen.  It became as cold and fragile as ice.  Abuse it anymore, and it could break.  He rubbed his bare shoulder while swaying back and forth.  So many problems creeping throughout his mind.  All of which he knew couldn't be solved.  He debated with himself for a while, but in the end he just couldn't see it through.  He just couldn't acknowledge the fact that Wally was dead.  He argued that it was impossible, and tried to think of any accuse.  And in the middle of doing so he drifted off to sleep.     

The next morning he woke up, and wobbled down the stairs attempting to use one crutch.  He finally made it, and arrived at the table, where a meal sat at his place.  He awkwardly sat in the chair and began to eat.  Alfred made his way in and sat down across from him.  "How did last night go?"  The butler questioned.  "It was cold to say the least."  Richard stated.  "Were you wearing a sweatshirt, and under the covers, master Richard?  Because if it was still cold I can turn the thermostat-"  He began.  "Actually Alfred, I went to sleep without a shirt or covers so..."  He sounded furious.   "Were you excepting to stay warm like that master Richard... I know you're better educated than that."  Alfred playfully joked.  "Well unfortunately sweatshirts can't fix my problem... I fear that any of the things you listed wouldn't of made much of a difference." 

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So I'm warning you now, but this chapter is mostly just a filler.  However 18 and 19 will be filled with a bunch of crazy stuff so it's good that this chapter is toned down.  As I said before part B will be out tomorrow and C will be very quick to follow because I want to get to the good stuff:)

Other than that what did you think?  Comment down below!

Thanks again!