DC: DON'T UTTER A WORD

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[David Lance POV]

Little by little, my mind had fixed itself from the damage it had suffered. Bringing in the process, more than what was originally within myself, more than what I would've cared to remember.

Memories of the painful process in which the Joker virus had voraciously assaulted my mind, seeking to consume any semblance of reason, leaving nothing but utter madness.

Memories of the past, in graphic detail, detailing who I had been, before I came into this world, beyond what I used to remember.

Memories of me, beating Harley, Scarecrow, and The Joker, with a smile on my face, enjoying the suffering I was bestowing upon them, without even knowing why.

Memories of how afraid I had been of becoming like him, of killing anyone but them…

So many memories… I didn't want to have. But they were. Haunting me, with the what if… I had succumbed to the Joker's virus? What if I had killed my sister because of it?

I knew it was, or at least seemed pointless to worry about what could've happened, instead of focusing on what had actually happened, but no matter how much I told myself that, or how much I tried to push those thoughts away.

My mind simply kept wandering to that same corner, over and over again. Torturing me, in a cage, in a nightmare of my own making. After all, who was to blame but myself? At the end of the day, it was my mind, my fears, and my thoughts that haunted me.

I was afraid.

So very afraid.

The worst thing was, that I didn't even know what scared me. The what-ifs were part of my fear, maybe fuel to it, but they weren't the main source of it, I knew that.

What I didn't know was, what made me feel so utterly hopeless.

It wasn't Deathstroke.

It wasn't The Joker.

It wasn't my powers.

If I had to describe my fear. How I felt in words, I would say it was like anxiety and fear, the emotions had mixed, making a new feeling just for me.

Perhaps it was simply anxiety, the feeling of fear, dread, and uneasiness without a clear cause, in most cases.

Perhaps I was simply overselling my own situation.

I didn't know.

All I knew was… That I wanted this feeling to go away, to leave be me.

I had finally made peace with who I was, with my burdens… with everything that had been haunting me, fighting my emotions, my struggles with firm resolutions.

Now, however. Unlike before, I had no clear target to tackle, as this dreadful feeling I was experiencing was without origin, leaving me with no clue how to deal with it.

"Perhaps it will go away with time," I muttered, floating adrift within my mindscape while smiling at the sound of my voice. Wondering, was that how I really sounded? Or was that simply how I imagined how my voice? "I just had a bad day. All I need… is time…"

I liked that thought. The idea everything would be okay, in time.

I truly hoped I was right about that one. I truly did.

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[Dick Grayson POV]

I woke up in the Bat Cave, my body covered in IV lines, administering fluids inside me. My mind going straight to David.

Where was he? Was he okay?

In front of me, a few meters away, sitting in front of the computer, was Batman, and next to him, there were Black Canary, and Green Arrow, their collective eyes locked on the computer screen, analyzing some sort of information I couldn't quite reach to read.

"Batman…" I croaked, trying to reach out to him.

"Robin," Batman said, instantly turning around his chair upon hearing my voice, rushing out of the chair to my side. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," I replied, the words hurting in my throat as they came out. "Where's David?"

"Here's over there," Green Arrow replied, pointing to his right, where a bed I had originally failed to notice was, with David in it, IV lines just like mines attached to his body, monitors to his side keeping track of his vitals.

"Is he okay?" I asked, looking at Batman.

"He's recovering," Batman replied, giving Dinah a look, who I now just noticed had been glaring at me.

I didn't need context to understand her. She had every right to be angry at me, to hate me, and much more.

I had put David's life on the line, just because I had wanted to prove myself, to prove others I was ready for more. I had tricked my friend into coming with me using a recording of Batman, just so that he would come.

I was no better than any villain I had ever fought.

In the end, all I had managed to prove was that I wasn't ready at all, for anything. David had been the one to save me, even though I had been the one to put him on the line, he had been the one to fix everything.

I didn't need Batman to tell me what had happened after I had been knocked out, there was no need… Their eyes had already done that. Their eyes were full of silent judgment, full of disappointment.

Full of things I wholly deserved.

…

…..

What had I done!?

I could've died…

HE COULD'VE DIED!!!

"Robin," Batman said softly, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder, stopping my shaking body as tears rolled down my cheeks, my throat closing up.

"I almost killed him…" I bawled, unable to hold down what I was feeling. I had almost killed David, just because I wanted something I wasn't even ready for… I had almost killed him, because of a Tantrum.

"You almost did," Black Canary said, giving me a look I quite couldn't read. "You almost did…"

"I'm sorry… I… I'm sorry," I sobbed, between breaths.

"It's not me who you need to apologize to," Black Canary replied, taking a deep breath. "It's my brother. You lied to him, manipulated his trust in you, risking not only your life, which on its own was beyond irresponsible but his as well… he needs to know that… From your mouth…"

I couldn't tell him.

She was right.

But I couldn't tell him.

"Dick, she's right…" Batman said, his tone soft, yet judgmental. "You made a mistake, and mistakes have consequences, this… is the consequence of your actions. You need to accept that, whether David forgives you, or not, that's up to him."

I nodded between tears, hoping the day I had to tell David to never come.

I couldn't face him… not after what I had done.