Archive of Our Own

"Why don't you get some rest?" softly suggested Cyborg with a small, reassuring smile. Robin couldn't help smiling back.

"Sounds like a good idea," he said, slightly nodding and leaving the room, blinking a few times and adjusting to the lack of light.

Saying that, Robin made it sound easy. And it was supposed to be easy, really. The weird dust causing the hallucinations was gone and the whole situation has been dealt with, so what was there to worry about? But even now Robin still felt uneasy. Even with the deafening silence of the empty corridors something felt weird. Wrong. But, perhaps it wasn't the world around him that was weird. Perhaps, it was Robin himself who was out of place.

Shaking off all those thoughts, Robin made his way to his room, hastily closing the door and leaning on it, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. One of his hands found its place on Robin's face, carefully, almost cautiously swiping down all the sweat, dust and a bit of blood.

How stupid it all was. What were the chances of some weird hallucinogenic dust being in Slade's mask? Not too low, apparently. Of course. Nothing less could be expected of Slade. Even (presumably) dead, he always got into Robin's head, messing with him.

God, he probably looked like a full-on lunatic, didn't he? Searching for something, someone, who was not real, fighting with a figment of his imagination and losing, accusing everyone of being too clueless, too unreliable, too... That. That was the worst part of it all. He threatened them. Yelled at Starfire. He was so self-centered, so focused on this whole Slade thing, that not once had he considered how much he was hurting his teammates. Would he really hurt them over something he made up? Would he really go that far? Some leader he is.

Robin flinched, holding his breath and reaching for a birdarang, when in the corner of his vision he saw (more so sensed) some sort of movement. Frozen in place, he waited. Waited, waited and waited long enough, but there was nothing. No new sudden movements, no noise. Nothing.

"This again?" muttered Robin to himself, mildly annoyed, "There's no one here, but you. Snap out of it."

Nevertheless, the rational verdict did little to soothe his nerves. Robin rubbed his eyes and made his way to the bed. He was supposed to be resting, after all. And not doing... Whatever it was he was doing those few minutes, just standing there and reminiscing. He slowly, carefully lied down, as if the bed could end up being a trap. But no, it was just a regular bed.

His bed. He was in his room, safe and sound. And there was nothing that could hurt him. There was no one who could hurt him. There was nothing wrong. Robin tossed and turned in his bed for a few minutes, before quickly sitting up and looking around the room. He thought he heard something. Or... Or maybe he didn't. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him. Again.

Robin clenched his fists. Why couldn't he get a grip already? What was still bothering him? The problem was solved. So what was it? Robin slowly pulled the blanket over himself, feeling childish for doing so. Embarrassingly enough, the light weight of the blanket did provide some comfort, feeling soft and warm, almost protective. Waiting for a few moments, Robin closed his eyes. He never had much trouble falling asleep. Sure, he was always on guard meaning easy to wake up, but usually he fell asleep as quickly as he got up.

That was not the case today, though. A minute passed. Two. Three. Robin shifted under the blanket, turning to the other side of the bed. Four. Five. Robin curled up in a small ball, slightly hugging himself. Six. Seven. Eight. Robin tried to lie on his back. Nine. Ten. Eleven.

A muffled thump was heard somewhere in the medbay, causing Robin to immediately jump out of bed, on pure reflex throwing a few birdarangs in the direction of the door, breathing heavily. The birdarangs fell to the floor with a soft clink and everything turned silent again. Except Robin was still loudly breathing, squinting and clenching his fists.

That... That was probably Beast Boy messing around, right? That's all it was. He probably dropped something by accident and... And that's all. Robin scoffed at his own paranoia. And this is what the others had to deal with all this time? How annoying. Alright, this is it. No more distractions. Just sleep.

But before his head could touch the pillow again, Robin got up and reached for the light switch, feeling a sting of relief wash over him once the room was covered in calm yellow. A few self-mocking thoughts raced through his head. So what, is he afraid of sleeping in the dark now? Does he need a night-light with that, too?

Shaking his head, Robin sat down on the side of the bed, clenching the thin blanket in his hands. Taking a deep breath, Robin tried to empty his head, feeling the exhaustion become more evident. It's fine. Sleeping with the lights on didn't seem too bad if it's at the very least helping. Reassuring himself, he finally lied down, closing his eyes and hoping that the next time he opens them will be in the morning.

Cyborg walked past Robin's room, heading to his own. But something stopped him and he studied the closed door, as if trying to see past it. What he did see were the lights that for some reason were still on. Was Robin still awake? Cyborg slowly came closer to the door, checking for any noise behind it. It was quiet, but just to be sure Cyborg softly knocked on the door, quietly calling out to Robin.

There was no response, so Cyborg carefully pried the door open. A small smile found its way on his face when he saw Robin, peacefully sleeping, curled up in his blanket. A few scratches were still visible on his face, but he didn't seem too troubled. Good. He deserved a proper rest after all that happened.