A/N: Brief mention of suicide.  I mean really brief.  But if you are uncomfortable around the word then don't read this.  I don't want to freak anybody out.

I'm sitting in Bruce's limo.  The funeral just ended.  We're driving to the mansion to have our own little 'something' for Dick.  The only family's in the limo are the ones that know Dick for who he really is.  Oliver and Roy.  Barry and me.  Bruce and Jason and Tim and Alfred and Damian... we caught him after he ran off.

Alfred's driving.  Oliver is sitting shotgun.  I'm sitting in the row behind with Roy and Bruce.  Behind us is Damian and Tim and Barry.  And Jason is sitting on Bruce's lap.  He's kinda big to be doing that, but it's okay.

I don't know why I'm paying do much attention to detail.  I guess I'm trying not to think about Dick.  I wish I could have done something.  I wish I could have....

Oh great, now I'm crying.

Bawling would be a better word actually.

I had seen Robin bawl.  Well it was more like crying.  I had only seen it three times though.   The time with the new trapeze, his parents anniversary day and he was stuck as Robin in the cave, and that time when I broke my head and he wouldn't stop crying over me....  But Richard, I had seen Richard cry many times.  Many, many times.  He would always turn to me when he cried too.  He was so sweet!

I stifled a giggle thinking about Dick's reaction to being called sweet.

I had seen Robin giggle.  Better word would be cackle.  He did that a lot.  The times when he hopped into battle, the times when he was trying to freak me out, and the times when we sparred and he won(every time, you won Robin)..... But Richard, he didn't cackle.  He had a genuine laugh.  A laugh that he would do every time I made a joke.  A laugh that sounded like a happy child with no  care in the world.  Though you had to know Dick well enough to know that he wasn't happy.  He was broken.  All he did was act strong.

Strong.  The perfect adjective for him.  I can't be strong, not at all.  And strength was what I admired in him.  And strength was what I needed now.

I had seen Robin be strong many times.  So many times.  The team thinks they know him, and they do, in a sense.   But, if they really knew him, then they would know that he was far from happy.  He acted strong all the time, in battle to prove himself worthy, when we played games, when we sparred, when he was insulted, and just in general.  In general.... but Richard, he wasn't as strong.  He cried everyday, every night.  And his feeling would cascade down like a waterfall.

My feelings are cascading down in a waterfall right now.  I don't think Roy cares that I am soaking him.  With my tears.  Roy was my brother, how could he care?

Brothers.  That's what we were.  Roy and Dick and me.  Brothers.   I remember one time when Dick started crying and Roy and I helped him get over his tears.  Suicide.  We helped him to get over that too(A/N: told you the mention of it was brief!).

I looked at Bruce and wondered how he could take this.  Tears were streaming down his face.  Not as heavy as mine, but then again.  Batman.

I suddenly remembered a poem.  Yes, a poem.  Dick had told it to me.  It was by Robert Frost and titled Nothing Gold Can Stay.  The poem basically meant, if you knew it, that something will start out innocent, and soon that innocence would die.  It reminded me of Dick.  He was so innocent till age 9, when his parents died and he started fighting.  He was golden at ages 1-8, but he lost that.  Dick was gold to me altogether, but I had lost my gold.  Dick.

"Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leafs a flower,

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf,

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day,

Nothing gold can stay."

I said this to Bruce, tears streaming down my face in bunches.

"Wally..." Bruce's voice faltered,"That was one of Dick's favorite poem's."

"I know..." I'm bawling and I can't stop.

Nothing gold can stay.