(Jason's POV)

As soon as we got to the Batcave Dickie fell unconscious. I quickly caught him not letting my baby brother hit the ground.

"Damien go get Alfred." Bruce panicked and took Dickie from me.

He carefully took off Dickies cape and shirt not wanting to further injure Dickies broken arm, and laid him on the table.

Dickies stomach now against the table, Bruce grabbed the first-aid kit.

Who attacked my baby brother...Well, let's just say whoever it was they're not going to get away with it.

Not on my watch.

When Alfred came down he immediately helped Bruce clean the wounds on Dickie's back.

The whole thought of Dickie being in this state made me angry as hell, and I storm out of the cave up to my bedroom, in a (probably) futile attempt to calm down.

(Damien's POV)

Seeing Dickie injured like this really pissed me off. How could someone do this to a little kid?

I watch as Alfred and my father stitch up the wounds on our baby birds back.

Seeing Dickie like this made me think... He's too young to be doing this.

He is a brave kid, and he shows it every day. He's been through so much, and I can't stand to see him like this. It's just too much...

Even if dad told him he wasn't allowed to do missions or be Robin in general he would probably kick our asses... Yeah he's a kid, but seriously he can fight. Never underestimate him. If you do, well... Then you have a death wish. Granted he won't kill you... But still...

I know he wants to grow up already, but he should be a kid while it lasts... Once you've grown up there is no going back. Your stuck as an adult forever.

I watch as Alfred puts a cast onto Dickie bird's arm, and I stand at Dickie bird's side. I brush his bloody bangs out of his face.

Why is it always you? Why do you always have to be the one to suffer? Why...?

(Bruce's POV)

After Jason stormed out, Timi following him and Alfred telling Damien he would make cookies and Damien rushing out of the room; I was left with Dickie. My youngest.

The one who's in this mess because I couldn't say no to him about joining in the fight against evil.

I bring my hand to his cheek. He slightly leaned into the touch and I smile a little.

"We're here for you now, my baby bird. I promise whoever did this will pay dearly."

(Timothy's POV)

I ran after Jason who stormed out of the room. I'm glad he did because it gave me a reason to leave. With Dickie in this state I couldn't bare it. I was about ready to slaughter the man.

The fact that I couldn't prevent this from happening... It made me feel useless, and I hate it.

I follow Jason to his room. He doesn't close the door so I know that means I can come in.

I could tell how furious Jason is and I sit on his bed. Anger is radiating off him in waves.

He threw a few breakable objects across the room that shattered against the wall causing me to flinch slightly.

This side of Jason scares me, and I think he noticed.

"Sorry Timi." He says and sits beside me.

"Don't be. I'm just as furious as you." I say and place my hand on his shoulder.

"I wish I could have prevented this." He says weakly and I nod, feeling the exact same feeling.

"But we didn't know so we couldn't have." I answer.

"What if Dickie doesn't tell us what happen?"

"Have you met Bruce? Don't worry the bird will talk, I just know it. Bruce is like... Well, you know. He has his ways."

----Dick's P.O.V.--- Also Time Skip.----

The first thing I know when I wake up, is pain. And lots of it. And I mean a lot of it. My body feels incredibly heavy even though I'm already lying down. I feel like I was forced awake from how tired I am. I try to move my hand, but it only twitches.

Dick?" Someone asks. I groan in reply, not bothering to move anymore.

"Hey! Dick's awake!" The person shouts. I groan and open my eyes.

"Shut up Tim..." I mutter. My eyesight is way too blurry to make out where I am, but I'm guessing i'm at the Batcave by how dark it is. Although it might just be dark because my sights blurry... I might never know.

"Dick... Are you okay?" Bruce asks.

"Yeah..." I mutter, pushing myself up, just to end up a epic fail, my arm falling back down under me. Thats when I notice my broken arm is in a cast. I'm expecting someone to laugh at me, but I don't hear anything. I look around as Bruce helps me sit up. Everyone's there. My eyes land on Jason, and he's lounging on the wall, looking away with a pained face. I look at everyone's faces, and see a similar emotion to all of them. I hate that look. The look of pity. But there's something else... They blame themselves too? Great. Just Great.
Such a disaster.
Heavy on the dis.

"Don't look at me like that." I whisper. No one answers. "I hate that look."

"Sorry..." Damian mutters.

"Don't be!" I shout. They look at me surprised. "I hate it when people feel sorry for me! I HATE It! So don't even look at me like that!"

"But-" Tim starts.

"Don't." I interrupt. I look to Jason.

"Surely you don't feel sorry for me, right Jason? You wanna laugh at how I epicly failed. Right?" I plead. He avoids looking at me, instead taking an interest at the floor. I growl, and jump off the medical bed, much to everyone's surprise, and leap down the platform, completely ignoring the immense pain in my back that's threatening to paralyze me, and the crack I feel in my ankle, breaking that bone too. That guy knows how to throw a kick. But I keep going. I can't stand the way people look at me like that. Its just like back then... After my parents died... The looks of pity. They were everywhere. People looking at me, pitying me, acting like I'm about to burst down in tears, at any second, they were waiting... They were waiting for me to cry... They were waiting for me break down. I know it! The looks. Why can't I ever escape them? They always follow me! I don't wanna be looked at like that again! Not again! Not by my own family! Not by my brothers. Sure we aren't actually related, but we're all just like brothers whether we want to admit it or not. Why do they have to look at me like that too? Why? I can't stand those looks, and it only makes it worse when my own family pities me. Sure i'm injured, sure its bad, by why? Why do they have to look at me like that? I can't stand it...

Tears threaten to spill out my eyes, just as Damian jumps in front of me, and I run straight into him, and he wraps his arms around me, hugging me tightly but being careful of my arm and back.

"Sorry. You hate being looked at like that, don't you? I won't look at you like that anymore." He says. I nod, and push my face into his chest, trying to keep the tears in.

I'm Robin, I don't cry. Robin's don't cry. They fly. They soar.

Damian leads me back to the medical bay, and I sit down quietly, letting Bruce help me get into a comfortable position.

"Dick. What happened out there? You weren't even supposed to engage the helicopter. So how did you even get injured like that? The team found you bleeding out in the snow." Bruce explains.
I think about what to say. Do I lie? Do I tell the truth? Do I only tell some of the truth? I decide to tell the truth.
"I have no idea." I lie. Lying is good. Lying is very good.
Bruce narrows his eyes at me. "Your lying."
Lying is bad. Lying is very bad.
"I don't want to talk about it." I mutter, looking down.
"Dick..." Bruce warns. I flinch slightly at his tone, but say nothing. When he realizes I'm not going to say anything, he sighs.
"Fine. Don't tell me yet. But you will tell me eventually. I need to know Dick. I care about you. Your my son."
Lies. All lies. Deception... Nothing but deception. I can't trust Bruce. I can't trust anyone. I can't trust anyone's lies.
Okay. Where did those thoughts come from?
After a little while of silence, Bruce decides to speaks up. Uttering words I never wished to hear.
"Well. You need rest. Which means your on bed rest until further notice, no patrol for 3-5 months, you'll also be staying home from school. I'll probably tell the world we're on vacation and when we get back its because you broke your arm. That should at least get a long time off for you. Same goes for you three. But you can't be seen outside for a little while unless your on patrol, do I make myself clear?" Bruce lists. Protective? Check. Daddybats coming out? Check. Completely unreasonable? Check. My jaw has officially reached the Earth's Core.

"Wha... Wha-What? You cant do that! 3-5 Months? No way! I'll go insane! Bruce you can't do that!" I argue.
"Can, Will, Have. And no visitors for a month." Bruce states.
"Bruce! That's not fair!"
"Its for your own good." He says softly. "Also because of how bad your injuries are you'll be on bed rest for the rest of the week, no exceptions unless it's to necessary like showering or going toilet. Other then that, you'll stay in bed."
"No! There's no way! I won't be able to stay on bed rest for an entire week without moving! That's just asking the impossible!" I argue. Bruce gives me the DaddyBats Glare.
Damian's hand rested on my shoulder, and I turn around to look at him slightly. He shakes his head. I sigh and I can feel my will cracking.
"Fine." I sigh, my walls breaking down. "But don't expect me to be happy about it." I grumble, pushing myself off the medical bay table to get to my room, the second I land on the floor, I immediately feel the effect of trying to run away earlier by my now broken ankle. I wince, and the next thing I Know i'm falling... Arms wrap around me, before I hit the floor. My body is lifted up, and I feel myself being carried.

"Lets go, Little Bro." Jason tries to laugh.

"Damn you. I'm not that little and you know it." I grumble.

He snickers at me, mood finally lightening. "That's a lie, and you know it."

"Why don't you just shut up for once?" I ask. He just smiles at me, but shuts up nonetheless, and carries me to my room. I feel myself being put down gently on something soft. But by the time I realize, I'm already half asleep. The last thing I hear is Jason muttering to himself. "I will find the person that did this to you. I swear."

------*Time Skip*---------

I don't know how long I sleep for, but honestly I don't care. I just wanna go back to sleep. I can feel the burning fever I have, and my head is pounding like its being hit by a hammer constantly, and my body is hurt in many ways. My back is probably the worse. My body was hurting so much more then last time I woke up. That's when I realized last time I was on pain meds. But its worn off now. Leaving me to suffer miserably. There's just So much Pain.
I can my will cracking, and my sanity slowly diminishing. I can feel the push I have towards that man. The push to take him down. It's consuming me little by little. And I want nothing more then a rematch. But I suppose what iterates me the most is the fact I know he was holding back. Like he was facing a six year old who couldn't even throw a punch. W
He was greatly holding back... Dammit...

I want nothing more then to disappear into the shadows, with all I hold dear.

So, that's exactly what I'll do.
Eventually...

---Jason's P.O.V.---

After putting Dick down on his bed to rest, I walked back down to the Batcave, where Tim and Bruce were having a conversation, a stern look on their faces.

"Yo." I called. Bruce turned to face me.

"Dick in bed?"

"Like a light. He was out before I even got to his room."

Tim snorts. "Figures." He mutters. I feel anger rise up in me, but I try to push it down, - for Dick's sake. We wouldn't get far with trying to figure out who did this to him, if we have to worry about me and my anger.

"Who do you think did this?" Damian asks, stepping out of the shadows.

"I don't know. Robin can handle a lot of things, even villains with superpowers, but judging from the injuries, no powers were used. It was just hand to hand combat, with a sword at one point." Bruce mused through the options of who it could be.

"Could it have been an assassin? Someone from the league of shadows?" Damian asks.

"No. They go for the kill. I studied Dick's slash. It was aimed perfectly. To paralyze the target to give him enough time to get away, so he couldn't call for back-up. Not only that but to do some serious damage. Clearly." Bruce Explains.

"Well it clearly wasn't the joker. Anyways, I don't know anyone with that kind of skill. The only people I can think of, are The League of assassins, Talons... Or... Mercenaries?" Tim suggested.
"Possibly. It could even be a new villain on the rising." Damian added.
"Well, no matter who he is, we have to do something." I interrupt. Tim snorts.
"No kidding. Great detective work there." Tim laughs. The urge to punch his lights out is overwhelming.

---Flashback. Still Jason's P.O.V. ---

"Dammit! That guy was overwhelmed! Your underwhelmed! Why is nobody ever just whelmed?" Robin shouted, throwing hands up in frustration.
"Well he should be overwhelmed. He was up against me, Red hood, after all." I chuckle proudly. "And besides he's just an everyday thug. It's only natural he would be overwhelmed when going up against me. I've handled much worse so facing him was barely even a challenge."
"Well, you should have just been whelmed! For all you know if could have been a trap! For all you know, He could have been an assain in training!" Robin rages.
"Gee Kid, didn't know you cared so much." I laugh. His head snaps at me with speed that should give him whiplash, but doesn't. He glares at me. I notice he's trying his best impression of the Batglare.
"I don't! And I'm not a kid!"
"Yeah you are. Kid, your practically an eight year old!" I laugh, watching his glare intensify.
"I am not an eight year old, and you know that." He growls.
"Yeah yeah, your what? Eleven? Twelve?"
"Eleven..." He mutters. My grin grows bigger at his submission.
"But I'm perfectly whelming!"
"Sure you are kid, sure you are..." I muse, before zip lining away from my little brother. I laugh as he screams as many curses he can of think of at me.
"Damn you Hood! You Damn devil monster!" He screams.

--End of Flashback. Still Jason's P.O.V. ---

The urge to punch his lights out... Is whelming.
I sigh and try to call down my frantic heart beat. I can't lose it, - not yet. My little brother is upstairs suffering from pain and self-doubt, confusion and possible fear, and all I can do is get angry about it.

Time passes by quickly as we discuss about who it could have been, a slight tension in the air, I'm still slightly angry, but frankly I don't really care.
I forget about my anger as League Members begin to file into the Batcave through the Zeta Beam.
I stare at the members that fill the Batcave. Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, The Flash, and Black Canary. I raise my eyebrows at the amount of leaguers standing in the Batcave with concerned faces. Bruce doesn't say anything, instead waits for one of them to say something.
"How's Robin?" Black Canary asks, stepping forward finally breaking the silence. Bruce sighs.
"No point in lying. He's not doing good at all. His injuries are incredibly serious. Not only that, but many of his bones are close to breaking as well. Too much strain on them will immediately break them." Bruce explains. I raise my eyebrow again. He never said anything about that before.

"That's... Horrible..." Black Canary grimaced.
"Any idea who did it?" Superman asks.
"Not yet. Robin's only woke up once, and he refused to tell us anything."
"Give it time. Since he's only just woke up, it must be effecting him the most now. His mental state of mind must be all messed up. Im pretty sure the blow to his head didn't help either." Canary says softly. Her face looked somewhat distant, probably remembering the blood running down his head, and well everywhere elde when he came back.
Bruce sighs. "Your right. He just needs some time to sort his thoughts out. He'll probably come around eventually."
"Although, If he doesn't... Well, I'm sure he will, but just in case I'd like to have a therapy session with him about it sometime."
"It'd be for the best." Bruce agrees.
"Don't you even have a lead to who it could have been? You know, by the Fighting style?" Green arrow asks. I decide to jump in.
"We have a few theories. Nothing solid yet. We won't know for sure until Robin says something." I say.
"What are your theories?" Wonder Woman asks.
"Whoever they were, they could sword fight and not many villains do that. And that slash could never have been done with a knife." Tim starts.
"So the main suspects would be assassins. The league of shadows, Talons, or Mercenaries." Damian finishes, once again stepping out of the shadows. The flash shivers.

"See! This is why I hate it here! Your like a family of ninjas! But worse! Not only that, but the strongest one has a hate towards me." The Flash moans. I scoff and raise my eyebrows again.
"I think Batman has a slight hate to most people. So try not to worry about it." Wonder Woman says.
"Hang on a minute. I hear something." Superman interrupts. Everyone quiets down.
"I think... I think I can hear Robin's heartbeat increasing..." He mutters.
That's all it took. Me, Damian and Tim were sprinting through the Batcave and manor. Damian bursts through Dick's door, with me right behind him, and Tim still in tow.
The second my head looks past Damian's, I see a teary-eyed boy with tears streaming uncontrollably down his face. He looks up at us in shock, and hiccups, before beginning to wipe away his tears.

Tim hugs Dick to his chest not saying anything, but giving him silent support. I sit down on the chair beside his bed, whereas Damian sits at the end of bed, looking conflicted. He clearly doesn't know whether he should help or keep a distance. Dick hiccups again, and I look up at his grieving face. Looks like the last fight, really did mess up his mental state of mind. Seems like the nightmare he had this time was way worse than before.

Dick...
Why do you always have to be the one to suffer?
Why can't you just let us in?
Just please... For once... Let your guard down...

Authors note.

Yo people. There is something I have to tell you. It's very important. I didn't create this entire chapter by myself. How Jason, Tim, Damian, and Bruce felt were not written by me. There were written by my Friend raven-123 SO! Head-ups to her, alright?

*Cheering and clapping*

Woop woop!

So yeah, thank you so much for your head Raven, its deeply appreciated.

And I Think thats all. Until next time people!