Short and sweet angst

EDIT: TW MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

Edited 06/02/2024: format changes, no real additions

A mission was where it all started. Things lead to another as they always do. Now Batman was holding onto his protege's hand as he faced a sheer drop to certain death. He couldn't move. He couldn't call out for help. All he could do was hold onto the small hand gripping his knowing he didn't have the strength nor the leverage to pull him back up. 

"Don't let me go!" Robin cried. His body was shaking. He looked so terrified and Batman couldn't do a thing about it. This was the only time he couldn't do anything to ease the boy. He was supposed to be the person to calm him down. That was his job and he was failing so miserably. 

"I-I won't," he replied. Robin whimpered at his stutter but he couldn't hide his fear. He'd lost so much in his life; he couldn't lose his son as well. The thought of it made his heart jump up to his throat.

When he thought it couldn't get any worse, Robin's grip began to slacken. He was losing the strength to keep his hold. 

"Bruce," he said quietly. Batman could see Robin's face pale significantly. His eyes desperately tried to distance themselves from the drop yet they always returned to the same spot. He knew Robin was going to fall. He knew it. 

"Dick, everything's going to be okay," he lied. Just because he knew the inevitable didn't mean Robin had to. Then again, would that just make his guilt worse? Would that make the fall all the more terrifying? He dreaded the grieving process; a process he still didn't know how to do healthily. They'd have to travel down the mountain to retrieve the body. His hologram would go up as a constant reminder. The funeral would be worse. He'd have to tell everyone about how good Robin was, how he could've been anything he wanted. All the should have and could have haunted him at that moment. He should've said I love you more. He should've gone to every single school event. He could've talked more about the little things. He could've persuaded Dick to never become Robin.

Robin's grip slipped further. He was seconds away from falling to his death. 

"I love you, Dick," Batman said. He'd never been more confident about anything in his life. The love he has for this child was overwhelming. Never had he thought that he, of all people, would love being a father this much. 

"I love you too Dad," Robin replied. Even now, he tried to smile. Why did the good go so young?

Then Robin's grip slipped entirely. 

Within seconds, he was swallowed up by the darkness laying at the bottom of the drop. Batman couldn't help but feel grateful for not being able to see the body of his ward twisted and mangled on the rocks. He heard Robin scream until....silence. At that moment, Batman didn't know what to do. He couldn't do anything. What he wanted to do was rewind to the start of the day and sack the mission. Say it wasn't worth it because it wasn't. No mission, no villain, no hero was worth the cost of Dick's life. Batman screamed, not knowing how else to release all the feelings inside. Any, if not all, negative emotion was collected in that scream.

Suddenly, he woke up. Bruce was gasping for breath as his body begged for oxygen. His eyes welled up with tears and some made their way down his cheeks. There was a smashed lamp by his bedside. He concluded that he knocked it off during a nightmare. Was all of it a nightmare? He couldn't be sure. He was in the thick of a state in the middle of sleep and awake. Did Batman lose his Robin? Did Bruce lose his son? His mind couldn't comprehend that thought until there was a pattering of feet against the wooden hall.

Bruce's door swung open to reveal Dick holding a bat, ready to kick anyone's ass. Though, once he realized nobody else was in the room except for Bruce, he put the bat down with embarrassment. 

"I thought you were being attacked," he explained shyly. Bruce laughed lightly and rubbed the tears out of his eyes.

"Nope, just a nightmare," he assured the younger. At that, Dick made his way over and clambered onto the bed. He got in beside his mentor and hugged him tightly. "Chum? What're you doing?" Bruce asked in confusion.

"Making you feel better. Nightmares suck. I would know," he answered nonchalantly. Bruce's heart ached for him. He was so young and the poor thing had nightmares haunting him. 

"Did you have one tonight?" Bruce asked. He moved into a more comfortable position for both of them, assuming the boy was going to have a sleepover in his room. Dick nodded, seemingly unfazed by it. "You wanna talk about it?" He heard the child laugh under his breath.

"You're the one who smashed a lamp in his sleep. Your nightmare seems pretty wild compared to mine," he replied. He had that smile on his face that just brightened your world by looking at it. Or, at least, it brightened Bruce's world and after a nightmare, it sure did relieve that post nightmare stress. "But, I'll tell ya since you asked." 

Bruce smiled back and covered his foster son with the thick quilt to keep him warm. 

"We were working together fighting Joker, you know the typical Friday night. Things were going great and I really thought this was a good dream for once," he explained, letting his previous excitement take over for a second. Then it went away. "I was cornered. They were pushing me towards a big drop and I getting scared because you weren't coming to help. You were fighting Joker. You had no idea there was even a drop. I tried to call out for you but you couldn't hear or you just weren't listening." He paused for a moment. He didn't like getting caught up in past nightmares. Bruce didn't like to see him upset. "Before I knew it, I took one step too many and I fell." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that, I was dead. I woke up and kind of sat there for a bit. Then I heard a smash and came to help," he said, finishing up the story.

They sat together in silence for a bit, both taking in what happened. 

"Anyway, what was your nightmare like?" he asked, taking the attention off him. He looked up to Bruce and awaited his response. The older sighed. Subconsciously, he made his hold on the younger tighter and brought him closer. Dick stayed silent. He didn't want to point it out. Whatever he saw, made him incredibly upset and pointing it out wouldn't make him feel any better. 

"To put it simply, you needed me and I couldn't be there. I couldn't save you."

"You're not a man of many words huh?" Dick commented, trying to lighten the mood. Bruce scoffed at him. 

"Thanks for the sympathy."

"I gave you a hug, what more do you want?" he joked. He snuggled up to him and placed his head on Bruce's chest.

For a moment, Bruce thought he'd fallen asleep. This thought disappeared when Dick spoke up. 

"Bruce, I wouldn't blame you if you couldn't save me one day," he said quietly. He successfully caught him off guard. Dick had essentially told him that if he died one day, he wouldn't spend his last moments angry at him. "Not everyone can be saved all the time. Not even by heroes," he added. 

"I won't let that happen, chum, I promise." Dick shook his head, yawning.

"Don't make promises you can't keep Bruce. It just hurts more when you can't keep 'em," he reasoned. He drifted off to sleep soon after but Bruce stayed awake for a while longer. He was thinking. Thinking about what would happen if the day came that he wasn't there for his foster son. All he could do was hope that the day would never come when he couldn't be there.