Blood. That's what he saw. It covered his hands, it ran through his hair, it seeped through his clothes. The darkness of the warehouse only gave the blood a sickening black color, gleaming brightly in the little light there was.
"Wally..." His light, raspy voice came out painful, followed by deep breaths as the boy tried to breath. The boy's lips started to move, trying to form more words, but no sound came out.
"Dick..." The other voice was a soft whisper, nearly a sigh. It cut off anything the boy below him was trying to say, despite its soft tone. It seemed like his throat collapsed on itself as he held back a sob. "Dick," he repeated the name slowly, pronouncing each letter like it would keep the bird alive. "Stay with me, Dick. Keep your eyes open. Come on, stay with me, don't leave me!"
Shaking fingers reached for his own ear, pressing the hidden device. "Kid Flash to Young Justice."
An eerie silence met his ear. It seemed like there was no way to contact them. Or maybe no one cared.
"Wally to Young Justice?"
Still no answer.
"Wally to Justice League?" His bottom lip shook as he looked at the dying figure resting in his lap. The bird's lips were stained with his own blood, trembling as he realized that this was the end.
The speedster's voice suddenly became small, woven with worry and grief. "To anybody?" But no one answered to that. Why would they? They haven't answered him yet. But he couldn't let himself stop. "Please?"
Silent tears ran down his face. They streamed down his cheeks, they gathered at his chin , they dropped onto the small Bird. Their tears mingled together as both of them cried, scared for each other.
"Wally..." The boy whispered his name again, his eyes staring into green ones. But Wally could already feel his chest slow down, coming to an agonizing stop, his spirit finally resting. His friend watched as his eyes glazed over, the soft, cheerful, happy spark disappearing in the endless blues.
"Dick?" Wally couldn't accept it. He wouldn't. He was Richard Grayson. First Robin, son of Batman. He was unbeatable. He was immortal. He was... he was like a god. "Dick, it's not funny. Wake up!"
The boy didn't move. His head just rested on his chest, a small trail of thick red liquid leaking from the corner of his mouth, staining his partner's yellow suit.
He shook the body violently, watching for a reaction. Not a twitch.
"Don't leave me alone!"
But he knew it was too late. It was only logical. A stab to the chest, a break to the lung. That was bound to kill a person. But yet, he couldn't just die. Not him. Not Robin.
"Please Dick," sobs threatened to take over his body, "I don't want to be alone."
But green eyes met dead ones, and he knew there was no going back. No possibility that things might be as they once were, coming in after a mission, taking about how that was a close call. There was no chance because no matter what they did, he was gone. He was dead. And soon, he would be six feet under. And the worst part?
Wally was alone.