I can see. Dingy white walls--padded. A steel door with a tiny window laced with wire in it.
My feet are bare.
I'm sitting and I can't move.
But, I can think.
I can remember.
Oh god, I remember.
I...broke. I got the call and everything in my head went white and I slid down the wall and sat there...breaking.
I'm supposed to be stronger than that. I'm supposed to be better than that. I'm Robin and Robins persevere, they survive, they soldier on. They don't go catatonic.
Batman needs a Robin.
I told them that so many years ago and I know it's true and I'm failing him...again.
I still can't move.
How did I get here? How much time has passed? Why won't my muscles obey me and MOVE?
There's a disconnect between my brain and my body and I don't understand how I let that happen. I've survived all my losses. I've wept and mourned and moved on.
Was this simply one too many? The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back?
One more, one more, one more, and I couldn't take it, I can't stand it. I lost another and it's too many, one too many, too much, and so I broke and I continue to break and I can't move or feel or anything.
Am I crying? I know I'm crying but I can't feel the tears, can't hear the sobs. My body isn't mine anymore. It's just there, not moving, not doing anything, and my mind is whirling, too full of thoughts and emotions and loss and there's no connection and I have to find it, I have to stop breaking, I have to reconnect.
This isn't how it's supposed to end!
I'm Robin. I'm stronger than this.
Please...let me move...
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