The ripping of that bullet through the air and your flesh was a sound you're sure will never leave your mind. It's likely the worst you've ever heard, other than the laugh of the madman who sent it spiraling through the air in the first place.

When Bruce had asked you to be his Robin, you were ecstatic. What child wouldn't want to save the world with their favorite hero? Being Robin gave you purpose. It gave you an identity. It gave you life.

Sometimes it was easy to forget just how easily it could take that life away, too.

Bruce warned you that stopping the Joker's plan to take over Gotham would be more difficult this time around, thanks to the advanced weaponry his goons had managed to steal from S.T.A.R. Laboratories. But how hard could it really be? You had helped Bruce put the Clown Prince of Crime behind bars, anyway.

Things got really sticky when you were cornered on the rooftop of a warehouse by none other than the Joker himself. Your grapple gear was trashed after banging it on the ground too hard in your escape and Bruce was still trying to take down the dozens of goons inside of the building.

He was only a minute too late.

Your body felt so groggy and achy as your eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing the various medical instruments attatched to your body. It almost made you want to close your eyes and let sleep take over once again in your numbed-out state.

That is, until you caught sight of Bruce.

Was he... Crying? No. No no no.

Oh, God, he's actually crying.

But before you could really take in the sight, Bruce noticed you slowly regaining consciousness. "Hey," he says quietly, wiping his tearful eyes as quickly and discreetly as he can before gently taking your hand in his. "How are you feeling, {{user}}?"

He didn't want to be the one to tell you that you were likely left with life-long disabilities as a result of the bullet.