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(Normal P.O.V.)

The doctor that had told Bruce Wayne about the death of his son was named David Cunningham. He stands back as Bruce Wayne cried by his son’s side.

“I’m taking the body home,” Wayne says, his voice filled with sadness.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Wayne,” David replies, pulling the sheet down from the boy’s head and revealing the closed eyes and ashen skin. “Now, if you excuse me, I have other business to attend to.”

The millionaire nods and David leaves, not that he needed the other’s permission.

He steps into room 4L and looked at the recovering figure of Dick Grayson. The boy was actually recovering quite well, and almost completely out of any risk. The life-like dummy in the next room should keep Mr. Wayne happy – or sad, as it were – that his son had perished.

David takes out his phone and calls Lex Luthor.

“I have the boy.”

Wally’s P.O.V.

Of all the times for Superboy to actually turn on the television, it had to be today. Today, the day that they announced Richard Grayson’s death.

It was on all the news channels. Every. Single. One. Pictures of Dick filled up the screen, those wonderful blue eyes full of the life that had now left them. Pictures taken of him in math competitions, around the school. Every channel was running their own memorial for him, interviewing the people who he had saved last night.

Artemis had insisted upon watching it. She didn’t know. No one did. Only I feel a pang at every picture, have to keep from crying at every word.

The team watches with fascination and I watch with horror as they cover Dick’s entire life in just a few minutes. It just reminds me of how young he was.

When the memorial’s over, and they say how he died, my team has the mercy to turn it off. They don’t, however, have the mercy not to talk about it.

“He was really brave,” M’gann notes in awe.

“He was as brave as Robin,” Aqualad says, bowing his head in a silent tribute.

And that’s when I crack. I handled the newscast, the photos, the reminders of what had been lost because of my foolishness, my mistake.

“You have no idea!” I burst, yelling my head off.

“Woah, Wally, calm down,” Artemis says, reflexively backing up.

“I will not calm down! Dick was the best kid ever!”

I collapse, sobbing, onto the couch. “He was my friend.”

“We didn’t know,” Aqualad says.

“Should we call Robin?” M’gann suggests. I know she’s trying to be helpful, but I let out a loud cry.

“He won’t answer,” I whisper. “He’s gone.”

“Where is he?” I have no idea who asks, and I don’t much care. But the team still deserves an answer.

“He’s dead,” I murmur as my voice cracks, “and you just watched his memorial.”

(Normal P.O.V.)

The team is silent as what Wally just said kicks in. Artemis begins to storm out the door.

“Where are you going?” Aqualad asks.

“To see Robin,” Artemis hisses back.

“We’re coming with you,” Superboy says.

Artemis doesn’t protest; she’s already through the zeta beam. No one worries about going without changing. A boy who died as extraordinarily as Dick deserved a memorial.

…

“We’ve already moved the body,” the doctor tells the team, looking scared of all of them. And they did look almost ready to destroy him.

“Where is it?” Artemis asks, trying to remain calm.

“Bruce Wayne took it home,” the doctor says. “I can give you his address.”

“We’re not children,” Artemis snaps at him, although they really are.

Without another word, the team left to go visit Bruce Wayne.

(Bruce’s P.O.V.)

I had put Dick’s body in his bed, drawing up the blankets. This couldn’t have happened; I couldn’t have lost another family member.

It’s like I’ve been given a big dose of Scarecrow’s fear gas, because this is my worst nightmare. My son is dead, and I wasn’t there to help him. I was too late.

I hear a knock at Dick’s bedroom door and grunt in acknowledgement. I knew this was going to be hard for Alfred too.

“I can’t believe he’s gone, Alfred,” I whisper, my eyes prickling. “Dick is really…” my voice caught on the last word, as if he was only dead if I said it.

“Mr. Wayne,” a voice that was not Alfred’s comes. I turn around and find myself looking at the team. Dick’s team. How do I tell them? Do they know?

“We came to say good-bye to Robin,” Aqualad says, answering my question. “Wally told us.”

“We’re so sorry,” M’gann all but sobs.

“I always thought he would die as Robin,” Artemis says, not really helping. I really want to strangle her.

(Wally’s P.O.V.)

The team had left me at the mountain when they went to pay their respects. I dry my face on my sleeve, and head to the kitchen. I’m still half in a stupor.

Robin was gone. And it was all my fault.

Already the weight of his loss presses down on me. I take out a knife from one of the drawers and slit one of my wrists right on the vein. I hiss lightly as blood pours out, running down my arm.

I want to be with Dick. I put my arm down and the blood rolls to pool around me on the pristine floor. Already I feel lightheaded. It doesn’t really hurt, dying like this. I watch as the pool grows, putting the knife in the sink.

I fall to the ground, my legs unable to support me. My head hits the tile hard, just making it hurt more.

Recognize Flash 04 the computer booms, but I don’t register it as my eyes slip closed.

(Barry’s P.O.V.)

I hear the computer announce me.

“Wally?” I call. I had heard about Dick’s death on the news, and felt the need to comfort my nephew.

I walk to the kitchen. If I knew anything about Wally, it was that he ate when he was upset. Well, when he was anything.

“Wall?” I walk to the refrigerator, planning on getting a snack, but what I see gets rid of my appetite. Wally’s on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. I had known Dick’s death would make his depressed, but this?

I grab him in my arms, my hand clasping around his bleeding wrist in an attempt to stop or at least slow the bleeding. Without hesitation, I rush him to the hospital.

(Wally P.O.V.)

Hell smells an awful lot like a hospital room. Or at least I assume it’s hell; I don’t deserve to go to heaven. I didn’t save Dick.

I crack my eyes open and groan because I’m pretty sure hell wouldn’t be trying to put blood back in my body. That means I’m still alive. Damn it. I bet Uncle Barry did this.

“Wally,” his voice comes softly. Speak of the devil. “Wally, I know you’re depressed, but that’s no reason for what you did.”

“I-I want to be with Dick,” I whisper. Tears are streaming down my face and I don’t bother to stop them.

“Shhh,” he says, clasping my hand in his. “It’ll be okay, Wally. It’ll get better.”

“I don’t want it to get better,” I mumble. “I want to be with Dick.”

I see the horror on his face.

“What, because I’m a super hero I can’t want to die?” I yell. “Plenty of people want to die! Plenty of people aren’t saved by their stupid uncles!”

“Calm down,” he soothes. “Wall, I know this is hard but promise me you won’t try to this again.”

I make the promise instantly because there are other ways of killing oneself.

Uncle B eyes me suspiciously. “You won’t try to kill yourself again?”

I take a bit longer but eventually nod. I see that this is hard for Uncle B too, and I can’t bear to look at him because of the pain in his eyes. Pain that I caused.

I can wait a bit longer to be with Dick.