Chapter 1
He was plumenting to the ground, wind ruffling his hair. He was about to hit the ground. He rolls, and is back on his feet. Batman never approved, but he loved the thrill. Loved being so close to death, yet so free from it. The concept was bellow him, he was untouchable by even nature.
Maybe he should have been more worried. After all, when was the city ever this quiet? He had taken advantage of it. He had been running on so little sleep. The thrills only did so much to wake him. He had been patroling for 2 hours, it was approaching 12am. Besides one low level robber, the crime life had been quiet all night.
Settling down, he found himself the clock tower. Upon hearing the gears, he retreated to a nearby billboard instead. They never failed to set him on edge, even with the 6 years that had passed. Hugging himself, he focused on grounding himself, the buildings starting to melt a little. The city was too loud. The crashing of a car wakes him up from his spiraling thoughts.
He made no wait, springing into action. Upon stopping traffic, he heard gun fire to his left, distantly. It took his attention momentarily. He was getting ansey. Turning his attention back to the reck, the divers side door had been ripped open. The glance had been too long, the driver was gone. Snapping his head from side to side, he saw nothing and he heard nothing. After 3 tireless hours of searching, he saw nothing.
What had he missed? Would Batman have missed something so big? What about his team? Was he destined to never match Batmans level? Perhaps he'd always just be the boy running around without pants, always consumed by preformance in the worst of times. Always a show pony, never a true victor.
The thoughts seemed to fuel him, despite how tired he was. By the time he called it a night, the sun was up. He was swinging back to his apartment, showing up with nothing. He probably should have eaten something. He laid in bed for a while, eventually drifting off to nightmares.
3 figures met him in his dreams tonight. Jason, the Robin he failed to save. He was back, but nothing was fixed. It felt as if he hated the family, every last one of them. Him killing certainly wasnt a reasurance either. His parents visted him. The man had looked suspicious. Why hadnt he told anyone? The sicking thud as his parents hit the ground. Richard wakes up screaming.
After shuddering and crying in bed for what felt like years, he looked around. So close to calming himself down. Then he saw it on the kitchen table. The black and orange mask he was all too familiar with.
His once slowing heart rate spikes again. He felt as if he couldnt breath. Everything was too hot, his T-shirt too tight. It was going to be a very long day.
What an incredible, atmospheric read! You’ve captured Dick’s post-trauma mindset so beautifully; the raw vulnerability of him trying to ground himself against the overwhelming noise of the city, only to find Slade's iconic orange and black mask waiting for him on the kitchen table, was absolute perfection and gave me genuine chills. Your writing style handles his psychological tension so well, making his isolation feel incredibly visceral. Thank you for sharing your talent with us this is a phenomenal start, and I'm completely hooked to see where you take this apprenticeship dynamic!