Into the Depths – Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five
The Dying Hero

June 21st, 2009. Sunday, 11:00 am.

There was a difference between fighting a villain and fighting an army. At fifteen years old, it was something Dick shouldn’t have ever learned the true meaning of – and in that moment, it was enough to age him. All around him there was chaos. It wasn’t the happy chaos that could happen around a breakfast table. It wasn’t the heated chaos that could happen during a rather intense video game session.

It was the chaos of war.

Dick had always been the leader of the Teen Titans. He’d always directed his team to the best of his ability and the odds had generally been in the Teen Titans’ favor. Rarely had they had more opponents – or rather, worthy opponents – than team members. Slade’s army of robots never counted.

But on this field—on this battlefield, they were vastly outnumbered.

Dick had no time to think. He had no time to look out for the others. He could only dodge and react. There were too many things coming at him at once. Not only did he have to fight his doppelganger, he had to avoid the countless siege of demons and demon scorpions.

Dick had heard a few stories about wartime from Slade and Wintergreen – but actually living through it was an experience Dick would never forget.

The sound was deafening. The cacophony clashed against the ears, meshing, melding together with no ability to zero in on a single source. The earth shook from the mass army of scorpions, their clacking feet adding to the wave of sound. Fear pressed at all sides of Dick’s heart and mind. It sunk deep into his soul, as if trying to poison him with its toxin.

How it easy it was to let the fear and despair conquer his soul. With the enemy numbers so enormous, it was all too easy to give up. The weak voice of his heart whispered, “We’re all going to die anyway. Why bother to fight?”

But on he fought.

In the midst of the battle, Dick forced himself to think of the light he’d experienced. Their lives weren’t the only ones on the line. Everyone who lived on the earth and who would live were counting on them to win. With that determination burning in his chest, Dick pushed the despair back, not allowing it place inside his heart.

His doppelganger rushed forward through the battle throng, those glowing red eyes alight with bloodlust. Dick slashed one rapier to the side, catching a nearby demon in the heart. It shattered into raining fire, before its pieces slipped into the ravaged earth. At that same moment, his other rapier swung forward to block the doppelganger’s attack. Blade clashed against outstretched hand.

Dick ducked backward, just in time to avoid a clawed attack to his face. He dropped down, his eyes widening at the sight of long fingernails. His doppelganger chuckled, the darkness bleeding through that all too familiar voice. Oh, how it sounded so awful to hear that tone in his own voice.

“I’ve waited too long to play with you, little Robin,” said the doppelganger, his voice rising above the clash of the surrounding battle – and yet it sounded like a whisper. “I have watched your suffering so far and do you know what I think?”

Dick drew in a deep breath, his heart pounding against his chest.

He’s trying to poison my mind. I can’t let him get to me.

“I think I’ve let you have it easy. I hate what you’ve become. What you’ve let yourself become. Oh, before, you were so much better. Anyone would agree with me—even your friends like Robin better. This—” The dark boy gestured at Dick. “—this is a waste of space. But don’t worry. It’s not all lost. I’ll make you suffer and then, when playtime is over, I’ll take your place.”

A chill slid down Dick’s back in spite of himself.

“Everyone will like me better.”

His doppelganger attacked.

It was difficult to dodge in these conditions. His doppelganger rushed at him, with only his hands as his choice of weapons, forcing Dick to retreat. He bumped into demons at every movement and struggled to avoid getting attacked by both at the same time. This would’ve been hard enough in a one on one fight, without this freaking army to interfere.

As Dick sliced through nearby demons and dodged a few attacks from his dark self, he was overcome with the knowledge that this doppelganger was just as powerful as he was – and in some ways, more powerful. Battling against his own self was far different than just talking with him in his dreams. The fear threatened to grab his heart again, like the clawed hands of his doppelganger.

Dark Robin ducked beneath the swing of one of the rapiers. A moment later, he grabbed the other blade and ripped it out of Dick’s grasp. With a devious grin, Dark Robin smeared his own blood across his face, the red stark against the grey skin. Dick changed his stance, doubling his grip on his last rapier.

“You can’t run to Daddy now,” said Dark Robin, his tone filled with mocking. He lifted a hand. The surrounding demons backed away at that command, forming a small clearing. They clustered together, blocking all paths around them. “It’s just you and me.”

He’d have to defeat his doppelganger before he could help his friends. Dick drew in a deep breath.

“I was never planning on running to Daddy.”

Dick charged.

ooOOOOOoo

June 21st, 2009. Sunday, 11:05 am.

He saw Trigon’s eyes every time.

Every time the beast attacked him, Slade could only see those eyes, which were filled with a void that couldn’t be understood – the depths of such darkness unlike anything that had ever existed within the world and, perhaps, the universe.

He wanted to focus on the war. He wanted to fight beside his children. But he couldn’t even keep track of them while Trigon attacked with such ferocity. The fight became a blur. Slade had never fought on such an intense level, where his opponent outclassed him in every aspect.

He didn’t even have time to draw his sword.

There was a explosive attack that send Slade flying into the ruins of a tall building. The metal crumbled like sandstone and Slade fell forward. He rushed to the ground. He block with his arms, just as another attack blasted him into the building. He skidded against the grey floor, smashing into a desk. Charred office supplies scattered.

Slade bolted forward, pulling himself to his feet. There was a pause that made him look up. Trigon stood in the room, his upper lip curled with a sneering snarl.

“I despise all immortals,” hissed Trigon.

“And I despise politicians,” retorted Slade. “But you don’t see me trying to kill them.”

Without getting paid…

Trigon bolted into another attack. It was too fast to block.

The crimson sky above burst into view. Pain exploded in Slade’s back; debris shattered, the boom echoing through the air. His chest burned; his ribs had punctured his lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Just as he felt the pain, he could feel his body trying to heal itself.

Slade glared up into Trigon’s face.

“Earth is my dominion and yet they always have to put immortals here – ones that I have no influence over.”

He coughed, dust exhaling from his lungs and blood tainting his lips.

“They made a mistake this time, though,” whispered Trigon. “You don’t have their protections. They gave you favor, but they didn’t give you all you needed – you must not be important to them.”

Slade knew physiological warfare well. He’d seen it. He’d employed it. It’d been used on him. Generally, however, such warfare needed to make sense for it actually be effective.

“What are you babbling about?”

“You don’t know?” said Trigon with a laugh. “The other immortals of this world cannot be influenced. They cannot even feel pain. They cannot be hurt. Yet, you and your spawn are different. You feel pain. You can be killed over and over again, only to be rejected by the Heavens, forced to feel that pain for eternity. They must hate you more than I do.”

For a moment, Trigon stared at him, as if waiting to see what affect those words had on him. Slade could only look back, a strange mixture of emotion rising inside his chest. It came out of his mouth in a burst of laughter.

“Oh, this is ridiculous. Your attempts are pathetic. You think with a few choice words that they’ll have any effect on my fighting?” Slade barked another laugh. His tone dropped. “You’re messing with the wrong man, Trigon.”

Trigon narrowed his eyes.

“Actions, then.” There was a pause. “How well will you be able to protect your son? The one who is not immortal? How easy it will be for my servant to destroy that vulnerable child whom you love so much. How easy it will then be to destroy you and the rest of your unnatural spawn.”

The fear finally gripped Slade’s heart.

“And… I’m going to make you watch.”

ooOOOOOoo

June 21st, 2009. Sunday, 11:10 am.

He was being stupid, but he couldn’t help it. Beast Boy had to protect her. No one else was paying attention to her. The others were, understandably, busy. He had no idea how he was going to fight his double and protect Raven, but he sure was gonna try.

His dark self was chasing him, though.

At the start of the immense battle, Beast Boy had grabbed Raven when everything escalated into a huge brawl – like one of those westerns where everyone got into a fight at the bar. Dodging through demons with Raven in his arms had been easy in his beastwolf form. Within a few moments, he found a crevice in between some ruins that was perfect for hiding. He transformed back into a human and squeezed inside

“Oooh, Beast Boy, where are you?” asked Dark Beast Boy, a sing song pleasure in his voice. “You can’t run forever. I knew you were weak, but I guess I didn’t realize you were the weakest link.”

He laughed.

Beast Boy shuddered, hating his own voice. There was no way to get rid of him, though. He had to hide Raven somewhere safe. She was so small.

“What’re you doing?” whispered Raven, her thin arms clinging tightly around his neck. “He’s gonna find you and kill you.”

“I know.”

There was a sharp intake of breath. “Then, why are doing this?” cried Raven. “Why do you care? I’ll be fine by myself. You should run away, find somewhere to be safe—”

“Raven…”

Her arms tightened around his neck, her face buried there. Beast Boy hugged her, his arms tightening like hers. He felt the hot tears as the dropped onto his neck.

“This is all my fault,” cried Raven in a soft whisper. “All my fault.”

“No, Raven, it’s not your fault. It’s Trigon’s fault. Don’t ever forget that.”

A face appeared at the entrance of the crevice. It grinned.

“Found you!”

ooOOOOOoo

June 21st, 2009. Sunday, 11:12 am.

When Joey had died, it’d been the first time he had understood true pain. He hadn’t known how awful it would be to die. It’d been a different kind of pain, one that wasn’t like the pain of a headache, or a cut, or a stomachache, or getting shot – no, it was the pain of something missing. When he had died for the brief moment in time, he had felt the split between spirit and body.

It was as if he’d never be whole again.

As quickly as that moment had come, he’d been restored.

The pain he felt now was also different.

Rose fought like a wild animal against one of the demon generals. She had a ferocity unlike anything Joey had seen in someone before. She seemed to fit right into her role. She didn’t have to question anything. Why wasn’t it that simple for him?

A voice of leadership, of power, of wisdom, of persuasion – what did any of that mean? He had no power of persuasion or leadership. His voice had never been powerful. It hadn’t even had a chance to grow into adulthood. Now, his voice was more a wispy tenor, like the element of his power. Where was the power in that? He didn’t have his father’s voice. That man could scare the crap out of anyone with his voice.

How could he convince anyone of anything when he’d always been too shy? How could he be a leader when it was obvious that Slade and Dick were far better suited to such a thing? What more could Joey do that they couldn’t do better?

There wasn’t any time to think about it, though. There wasn’t any time to watch over the others – make sure they were okay. While Rose focused on one general and its army, Joey had to take care of this one – and all of its scorpions.

He really hated bugs.

ooOOOOOoo

June 21st, 2009. Sunday, 11:18 am.

Dick gritted his teeth, his strength growing weaker. How long would this take? How much longer before his doppelganger would grow tired, too? Where did they get their energy? As Dick grew weaker, his doppelganger only seemed to grow stronger – what was he missing here?

Through the fight, Dick had tried ignore what the other said, but it was getting difficult.

‘You’re weak.’

‘You’re pathetic.’

‘You’ll never win.’

‘You’ll watch everyone die.’

‘It’s your fault.’

‘You could’ve been better, but now there’s no hope to save you.’

But there was something interesting to Dick. Instead of hearing those words and feeling torn down by them, they only seemed to amuse him, as if they were mere childish efforts to shatter his focus. In all honesty, the constant barrage was just annoying.

“You changed so much after becoming a Daddy’s boy.”

At this, Dick couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly with a long sigh. Okay, that one was getting old. For crying out loud, just because he had a parent now, everyone had to poke fun at it in the stupidest of ways. It wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the nasty rumors that people had spread when he’d been the ward to Bruce Wayne, but still – did anyone think before they opened their mouth any more?

“Awe, is the little baby Dickie gonna cry now?” said Dark Robin in a mocking, high voice.

Dick snorted. “Does it look like I’m crying?” he asked lightly. “I think you’re confused. You’re too distracted, Robin. Keep this up and I’ll win.”

Dark Robin growled, his lips rippling like an animal. With a cry of fury, he launched at Dick, slamming him into the ground. Dick’s head smashed against the earth.

Blackness filled his vision.

ooOOOOOoo

Grey.

Everything was grey. Somehow, Dick knew it shouldn’t be grey. But he couldn’t remember what it should be. Where was he? He was standing up. Hadn’t he been lying down? This place looked familiar. There were gears overhead. But they were silent. They were supposed to make noise, weren’t they?

There was a man. A glow burned inside Dick’s heart, the glow of some emotion that he couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember? What was he missing? Was this a good emotion? Or was it something else?

Dick stepped forward, wanting to be closer.

But there was a mask on the man’s face. That wasn’t right. The mask wasn’t supposed to be there. The man was hiding from him. But there wasn’t any need for that – not now, not after everything they had been through.

A dark grey eye glimmered with the shadows.

Wait.

What had they been through?

Color rushed forward. The memories realigned. As Dick stood there, standing in front of the man who had filled the void within his heart, a chill entered his soul. That grey blue eye had no light, had no gentle glow to it – no, what glowed there was the old flare of darkness.

The man slammed Dick against the wall, a punch connecting into his stomach immediately afterward. As Dick doubled over with pain, a knee slammed into his chest. Air rushed out of Dick’s lungs. He gasped for breath as harsh hands slammed him against the wall.

“Your disobedience will not be tolerated, Robin.”

Oh, that voice.

How different that voice was now. Confusion flooded through Dick’s burning heart. He looked up into the mask, his eyes focusing on that single grey blue eye. It was void of kindness. Old and new betrayal threatened to rise within Dick’s chest. He felt it crawl upward, as if determined to overpower his heart. He crushed it back down.

“What’re you doing, Dad?” whispered Dick. That grey blue eye widened. “You promised.”

Another blow punched into his stomach. A kick smashed against him; Dick flew to the side, crashing and skidding to the floor. Hands grabbed him by the upper arms and hoisted him to his feet, as if he weighed nothing but a feather. A moment later, those hands slammed him against the wall. Stars briefly danced in Dick’s sight.

As Dick stared into that furious light, the memory of old flooded through his mind. It’d been a dark time, a dark stain on their timeline – that day when Slade had beaten him to unconsciousness. To this day, Dick would never forget the heart gripping fear that had filled every section of his soul.

And within this moment, Dick could see the parallels to that time – except for one important factor to it.

This wasn’t Slade.

It was so perfectly laid out, wasn’t it? How easy it would’ve been to fall into the trap. How easy it would’ve been to let his heart fall back into that fear. But he didn’t, because there was something more inside Dick’s heart, something he knew now after the recent betrayal.

Slade wasn’t perfect and he never would be.

‘You aren’t perfect. And that’s okay. You’re not meant to be in this life.’

It was a freeing thought, strange as it was. And because Dick had come to that understanding, because he understood that imperfection with such clarity, however horrible it had been, it didn’t matter if Slade wasn’t perfect. The man would make mistakes, even in the future. He would break his word. Just as Dick had lied, even when he promised he wouldn’t, Slade would make his own mistakes.

But now Dick had a choice.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me like this,” asked Dick, his eyes lifting upward, strength within his voice. “So, why are you making that mistake now?”

The man slammed him against the wall.

“I made no such promise,” hissed Slade.

“Liar,” whispered Dick. “I haven’t forgotten and you haven’t either. I’ll never forget. And even if you make mistakes, I’ve made my choice.”

Another punch to the stomach slammed the rest of his breath out of his chest. His eyes danced with stars yet again as the pain rushed through his body. Dick gritted his teeth. Just as a leg swung to his side, Dick dropped to the ground. He could feel the whoosh of the man’s leg flying overhead. Dick dove to the left, just in time to dodge another blow.

“You can’t escape, Robin. I’ll make you regret trying.”

Dick lifted to his full height and looked up into the mask that hid his father’s face.

“I’m not trying to escape,” said Dick. “This isn’t real. This is just an old memory, but it’s different. Everything has changed since then.”

The man darted at him, his speed exploding forward. Dick tensed, his eyes watching every movement. He blocked a blow to his right; another blow threatened to knee him in the stomach. Dick flipped backwards and slid into a stance.

“I understand now,” whispered Dick. He stared up at the man, his chest filled with determination.

“You understand nothing, boy.”

“We all make mistakes,” said Dick, his voice growing stronger. “You make them. I make them. And, unfortunately, I’m gonna keep making them. In fact—” Dick breathed out a laugh. “—I’ll probably make a lot of them. I’m going to lie again. I’m going to make stupid decisions. I’m going to act rashly. I’m going to hurt someone with my words. I’m going to lose my temper. I’m going to get my team members hurt because of a poor leadership choice.”

‘Your true strength cannot come out when you do what is easy.’

“And because I make mistakes, I should accept that others will do the same. I am so sorry I stopped believing in you,” whispered Dick. “You made a terrible choice and I shouldn’t have turned on you like that. We’re family and family doesn’t give up on each other.”

‘When you feel like giving up… try a little harder, take one more step – your weakness will become your strength…’

“By saying yes to being adopted, I accepted more than either us really realized,” said Dick, a smile lifting through every part of his expression and heart. “We’re gonna hurt each other. It happens. That’s the sacrifice we make for being close as a family. After not having that for so long, I refuse to let it go. I won’t stop believing in you. Because I know your heart. I know you’re a good man. And I’m proud to be your son.”

The pain in that grey blue eye was different. It was a pain of deep hurting fear and anger, as if it couldn’t understand those words – or, perhaps, didn’t want to understand.

Dick bolted forward and shoved his palms against the man’s chest. The man slammed against the wall. The visible eye widened.

“That was for my Dad,” whispered Dick, crossing his arm in front of the man’s chest and pushing down. “I’ll be sure to tell him when I see him again.”

There was a sharp intake of breath.

“We’re so very much alike,” whispered Dick, his voice echoing a familiar tone. “Aren’t we, Robin.”

That grey blue eye widened further, before the color melded to bright red. The tall form began shrink, until the dark doppelganger stood in the man’s place.

“You still can’t escape,” hissed Dark Robin. “You still can’t—”

“We’re more alike than you want to admit,” said Dick, overriding the other boy. “You can’t lie to me – I know it. I feel the same. I never wanted to admit that we’re the same.”

Dark Robin struggled against the wall, squirming beneath the hold on his chest. Dick slammed his hand against the wall; the sound echoed through the room. Dark Robin stilled, those red eyes alight with angry fear.

“You’re dark. I’m light,” whispered Dick. “There was always supposed to be a line drawn between us. But that’s not the truth, is it? All this time we’ve been lying to ourselves. You don’t want to admit that you have the same weaknesses as me, the same strengths.”

“I have no weaknesses. If anything, you’re my weakness and when this war is over, I’ll be rid of you.”

“You love Starfire,” whispered Dick, his eyes boring into those glowing ones. “Just like I do. You have the same insecurities as I do. Will I ever be normal? Will I ever have a family? Will I die young, like my parents? Will Batman ever love me like a son? Why do I feel so angry sometimes that I just want to smash my fist into a wall?”

Dick’s voice dropped, deep emotion entering his tone.

“When the pain in my heart and mind gets too much that I can’t even stand it for a second longer, why do I want to bite my tongue so hard that it bleeds?”

Pain laced through those unnatural glowing red eyes.

“How many times have those thoughts gone through your head, Robin?” asked Dick, the rare emotion still present in his voice. “They’ve gone through my mind many times, especially when I was younger.”

Silence remained between them. Dick stared into those red eyes, never wavering in his own gaze. After a few moments, he broke the silence.

“It was easier to bury all that,” whispered Dick. “To let myself believe that my feelings were supposed to be suppressed. Or that what I felt wasn’t ‘cool’ or ‘manly’ or what I felt was ‘childish’ or ‘weak’ – or whatever  label someone wanted to put on my feelings, as if they had the right to do so. When I was Robin, I forgot to feel. I forgot to be myself. I forgot to be the person my parents wanted me to be.”

Dark Robin sneered. “What?” he said with a mocking hiss. “A weakling?” He scoffed. “You should’ve stayed as Robin. You’re weaker than before. You’re pathetic. I can’t even stand to look at you.”

“I’m tired of living with a mask!” shouted Dick. The words spilled from his lips, pouring out of his heart. “I’m tired of bottling of my feelings, just because someone else says it’s a display of weakness. If you think I’m weak, then you don’t understand strength. I’m a fifteen year old kid—I’m not a brick! I don’t want to be so ‘cool and collected’ that I lie in bed wondering who exactly am I—and so driven and focused that I lie to my friends, that I sneak behind their backs, that I work against them—” Dick sucked in his breath, drawing in a gulping breath through his rant. His tone calmed, however. “—Batman did that. I’m not Batman. I’m not Bruce. I’m not Slade. I am Richard Grayson and I get to choose who I want to be.”

Dick pulled up, drawing on strength from his heart as he stared into those dark eyes.

“And this is what I choose,” he whispered with power. “I am not afraid of you. I am not afraid of my darker side. I am not afraid of my faults, my weaknesses, my stupidities, my poor choices – I will not fear. I understand them. And I also choose to push past them all. No one can tell me I’m too weak. No one can say I’m not good enough. Because I am good enough.”

Dick leaned in closer.

“And you know what? I’m stronger than you.”

In that instant, the dream world shattered. The noise of the surrounding battle slammed into Dick’s ears. He stared up at the furious expression of Dark Robin, a hint of angry panic lacing through those red eyes. His head ached somewhat; everything still seemed bad. But Dick found his words were filled with truth. There was no more fear. Now he could face himself head on.

Dick wrenched his arms away, before he slammed his elbow into the doppelganger’s face. There was a cry of pain. Dick shoved the boy aside, jerking his knee upward. It smashed into Dark Robin’s chest. Dick bolted to his feet and took that moment to search around, hoping his friends were still hanging on.

A second later, a body slammed against him. He barreled to the ground, pain ripping through his shoulder. Dick rolled to the side, dodging as another blow rushed towards him. Dark Robin bared his teeth, looking more like a wild beast than a mirror of Dick. In the chaos of the battle, fire demons flooded at them. Dick focused on clearing the area; and for a brief moment, his eyes tore away from the doppelganger.

It proved to be a foolish move.

He saw the unnatural crimson light of those gleaming eyes before it happened.

Dick’s breath caught his chest.

No—

A grey hand stabbed him and twisted there, plunging deep into his heart. Pain burst in the area of his chest. Everything slowed down for Dick; his mind, his limbs – the only thing he could do was look up into those terrible red eyes. They glowed with devilish delight. There was a sickening sound as the hand pulled out of Dick’s chest, blood spraying through the air and staining that once grey hand.

The dark incarnate lifted his crimson hand to his face and drew a finger along his outstretched tongue; tainting his lips with the red liquid. A terrible smile spread through those identical features, the terrible light dancing in his eyes.

“I told you I would kill you, Dick. Sweet dreams.”

His mind was already beginning to shut down. Sounds were dying all around him, his vision blurring. He wasn’t sure what was going on. Wait, he had something to tell the others—they needed his help. But he was falling backwards. He never felt himself hit the ground. As the last breath shuddered his lungs, as the last heart beat died in his chest, one crystal clear voice rang out in agony through his blackening mind – the final voice that dimmed with his dying body.

It sounded so familiar… Like someone he had grown, through impossible odds, to love dearly with all his heart.

“DICK!”

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