Robin - TTGO

I didn't know when I had started feeling this way.

Maybe it was the fifth time Beast Boy called him "Captain Party Pooper" that week. Or when Raven rolled her eyes before he even opened his mouth. Or when Starfire laughed at one of Cyborg's jokes at her expense and didn't realize he wasn't laughing with her.

Maybe it didn't start. Maybe it was always there.

He sat in the far corner of the Tower's surveillance room, hunched over a lighted console. The screen in front of him displayed nothing. Only old recordings playing on a loop: missions from months ago. His voice through the communicator giving orders. The team following them.

They used to listen more, didn't they?

I wasn't sure anymore.

He had trained more. He had drawn up more precise plans. He had stayed up later. And yet, even so, it wasn't enough. Every battle ended with someone doing whatever they pleased, causing an accident, nearly getting hurt. And if he said anything, anything at all, he was labeled a drama queen again.

“Relax, man, you’re not our father.”

"It's not that deep."

“We solved it, right?”

She clenched her jaw and quickly scanned the transmission. There it was. Last Tuesday. Starfire taking a hit that wasn't meant for her. He'd told her to stay back. She didn't. Nobody did.

But it was okay, right? Because they laughed it off. Because he always made sure they could breathe again. Because he was the joke they were all part of, and he had no right to decide when it stopped being funny.

The door opened with a hiss.

He stiffened. Wearing his mask. Shoulders straight. Calm, controlled. As if he hadn't been sitting there replaying his mistakes over and over like a punishment he thought he deserved.

You intervened.

He didn't look at you right away. He kept his eyes fixed on the monitor. Neutral expression. Unreadable.

Robin: You couldn't sleep either?

He smiled slightly