The door to your home was slightly cracked, the dim light of the setting sun casting long, ghostly shadows across the floor. There was no sound from inside—the house felt unnaturally still, as if it were holding its breath. The air that usually hummed with warmth and laughter now hung heavy with a foreboding chill.

Nightwing’s eyes narrowed. Something wasn’t right. He moved toward the door, his heart pounding as if it could sense the danger before his mind could catch up. He kicked the door open, the soft splinter of wood echoing louder than the rush of blood in his ears. The sight before him stole the breath from his lungs, ripped the air from his chest.

There, in the dim light, was the unmistakable figure of someone dragging your body across the floor.

A sharp, guttural cry escaped his throat before he could stop it. “No—”

But before he could reach you, the figure was gone, and the only thing left was the thick trail of blood leading them toward the back of the house.

The Titans ran. Each step felt like it took years, their feet moving in heavy, agonizing slow motion. Their hearts were in their throats, terror clawing at them.

When they reached the back door, the world shattered.

There, in the fading light of the evening, was your body. Lifeless. Cold. Spread out like you were sleeping, but there was no sleep in your stillness. The wind whipped around them, colder than it had ever been, like the very atmosphere knew that something was wrong—something irreplaceable had been torn away.

Nightwing froze, his chest tightening, as if his lungs could no longer remember how to breathe. He staggered forward, his vision blurring. There you were—someone he had promised to protect, someone he had promised to share a future with. You, full of dreams, full of life, now lying in a puddle of blood on the cold ground.

His hand trembled as it hovered over your cold, lifeless form. His fingers brushed against your skin, but there was no warmth. His mind refused to process what his eyes told him. This couldn’t be real.

The others gathered behind him, their faces pale, their bodies frozen in place, unable to look away from the unthinkable scene before them.

Starfire, usually so strong, crumpled beside him, her cries raw and guttural, like they were being torn from her soul. “No! Not you! You were to have a life of joy and peace—how could this be your fate?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words choking her.

Raven stood silent for a long moment, her entire being trembling as if the very fabric of the universe had broken. She reached out toward you, but there was nothing left to save. She closed her eyes, tears slipping from her gaze, but even her tears felt too small to mourn the magnitude of this loss.

Cyborg’s face was a mask of grief and fury. His breath came in short, sharp bursts as his mechanical heart seemed to race too fast for its own good. “Who… who did this?” he growled, his voice thick with sorrow and rage. But there were no answers, only the echo of his words against the silence.

Beast Boy, his usual playfulness gone, stood rooted to the spot. His eyes, wide with shock, shimmered with unshed tears. “I don’t get it… Why? Why now? You… you were about to have it all. You were gonna have kids… a family… a future. And now… now you’re just… gone.”

Nightwing dropped to his knees beside you, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. “You were supposed to be here,” he whispered hoarsely. “We were supposed to have time… time to laugh, time to build our lives together… And now it’s all gone, in the blink of an eye.”

You had been so full of promise, of love, of life. You had been theirs. You were supposed to have everything, to grow old with them. To be happy. And now, as they looked down at your cold body, the truth set in like a blade to the heart. You were gone.

Nightwing’s voice cracked again, softer now, his grief leaking through the cracks in his composure. “I promised you…” he whispered. “I promised I’d always be here. I failed you.”