AN: This is a one-shot in response to a prompt on the Young Justice Anon meme. I hope you all enjoy it!
Prompt: Robin has a gun in his hand.
Batman is in a coma and has been for months.
The culprit is standing right in front of Robin.
. . .
Boy oh boy, whats gunna happen now?
Standard Disclaimer: Sugarpony does not own Young Justice. That happiness belongs to DC Comics and Cartoon Network.
It was all too easy.
Infiltrate the target's supposedly secret hideout, evaluate the inventory of the drug's the perp was trafficking, and identify the leader of the ring and his biggest buyers. The team was in and ready to go in twenty minutes tops.
But then there were ambushed, and they realized why it had been so easy. Artemis and Kid Flash had gone down first, neutralized by tranquilizers. Then Aqualad, caught in the back of the head by a lucky thug, who was immediately knocked out in return by Superboy. Miss Martian had been thrown face-first into a pile of hallucinogens, and she was struggling to control her psychic powers through whatever she was experiencing.
Still, by that point they had mostly won, Robin and Superboy easily using experience and brute strength to disarm and disable the grunts. Finally, Robin delivered a swift kick to the back of the head to leader of the operation, catching his gun on the way down in order to prevent it from firing accidentally.
It was so easy.
But then Robin heard that laugh, the one that chilled his bones to the core, the one that filled his nightmares, and his breathe caught in his throat.
It was THAT MAN, he had known before he had spoken, and he was slowly walking toward Young Justice, applauding their performance mockingly. He was talking of how he had known within moments of their arrival that he'd had intruders, how he'd quickly directed most of his security to vacate their storage area and surround the room to take them by surprise. How the idiot Robin had just disarmed was merely a fall guy, recruited to disguise his presence in the operation.
It had been so easy.
He never left his position directly behind Robin. Superboy was growling but not moving, so Robin knew that he must have been threatening the rest of the team in some way.
But Robin still held the gun.
The boy, younger than his friends but also more experienced, having seen much more of the darkness in this world, felt his hand tighten involuntarily around the cold, unforgiving metal. His thoughts, unbidden, flew to Wayne Manor in Gotham City, where Alfred Pennyworth and Dr. Leslie Thompkins kept silent watch over Bruce Wayne, just as they had for the past three months, who was trapped in his own mind in a coma as a result of a fall taken while spelunking. They soared to three months, one week, and two days earlier, in a dark warehouse near the Gotham dockyard, where THAT MAN had put the Batman into a persistent coma. Where a broken bird had been caged and forced to watch until his transmission to the Justice League had finally brought Superman down to round up the grunts, although THAT MAN had been long gone by that time.
Three months, one week, and two days earlier, when the great Robin the Boy Wonder, protege to the infamous Batman the Dark Knight, had regressed to eight year old Dick Grayson, unable to help as yet another father fell before his eyes.
But now, Robin was not helpless. Now, Robin had the gun.
It would be so easy.
THAT MAN couldn't see the gun from his vantage point. All Robin would need do is turn, aim, and pull the trigger. He had never handled a gun before, but he knew the theory behind it. Keep both eyes open. Line up the barrel. Brace for recoil. Slowly squeeze the trigger. Aim for the chest, not the head; the head is too small a target, where if you hit the chest you will most likely hit something vital. Robin was fast enough. He had the advantage of surprise. It would all be done in five seconds flat.
It would just be so easy.
THAT MAN would be gone. His team would be safe. His father would be avenged. His dreams would be safe from the burden of guilt, the fear of THAT MAN returning to finish the job.
Robin spun on his heel, cape fluttering around him, and leveled the gun. THAT MAN halted his speech-Had he still been talking? Robin hadn't noticed-and froze. It was comical. Mouth open, body tense, surprise and not a little bit of fear in his eyes. Time ticked on for several seconds, and a bead of sweat rolled down THAT MAN's forehead, over the bridge of his nose, and dripped off the tip of his oversized proboscis. Robin was peripherally aware of Superboy staring at Robin in shock, though he did not move to intervene, and Miss Martian's frantic, halted mental whispers, No, don't, but the only thing that mattered now was THAT MAN in front of him.
And then he started laughing, a stilted, forced chuckle, and spoke too quickly of his hidden bombs and how he would gladly take all of Young Justice with him to the depths of hell, but his eyes darted back and forth between the exits and the gun and the son of the man he had possible KILLED who held his very existence in in clenched fist, and he was so obviously bluffing, and Robin grinned cold and unforgivingly just as THAT MAN had that night and-
So very easy!
-almost too quickly to see slipped a batarang from his belt and flung it straight ahead, and THAT MAN was suddenly lying unconscious on the cement floor of the warehouse.
Hours later, once Young Justice was debriefed and injuries had been tended to, M'gann spoke of how she had felt Robin's rage and truly thought he would have killed THAT MAN. Conner spoke of how he would not have blamed him, nor even told the League what had happened if he had. They asked how he had held back, even though the gun had been RIGHT THERE and so very very tempting.
The truth was that as tempting as the gun had been, Robin knew that Bruce's parents had been killed by a gun. That Batman would have fired him from being Robin as quickly and easily as Robin had fired the gun. That what would hurt the most would be the numbing disappointment and forced distance he would have received from Bruce and Alfred. Because even if it was SO EASY, Batman would never. Bruce was never. Robin knew all this then, and he knew all this now. But Conner and M'gann did not know this, they did not need to this. So instead, he smiled softly and gave them a simple answer.
"It was easy."
AN: So I hope you all enjoyed my second foray into the Young Justice fandom! Please let me know what you think!