Jesus said: "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do." -Luke 23:34

Judas took a rope and walked the scorched ground through dying trees. And every knot in the trees seemed an eye, and every branch, an accusing finger. The coin weighed heavy in his purse, just as the guilt weighed heavy on him. The betrayer. Judas saw nothing in his despair but suicide. And so, he slung his rope high upon a branch and swayed gently as a cool breeze rolled in. Alone.

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Superboy growled, "You turned into the man you swore you'd never be!"

"You hurt us!" M'gann shouted from behind Superboy, apparently, she had crept closer while Conner had been yelling. She had tears in her eyes, threatening to fall at a moment's notice. Whether they were because of Dick or formed in anger would forever be a mystery.

"I didn't mean to," Dick choked out, once again pulling at the hand that was slowly killing him. Black spots were dancing across his vision. If he was going to die, it was most certainly going to be by his own hand. Soon.

"No," Conner butted in, with metaphorical flames bursting from his eyes, "Shut up. You hurt us - whether you meant to or not means nothing. Your apology doesn't get to be a fucking justification to make yourself feel better!" He roared, lifting Nightwing up and slamming him onto the ground. A painful crack filled the air and everyone froze for a moment.

Did Superboy kill Nightwing?

Superboy stood, releasing Nightwing as he backed up a few paces. His face remained stoic as he kept his back to his Team. He was doing the right thing, no matter what they thought. He did what he had to do. A wet cough broke the silence, stealing the eyes from Conner and back onto a crumpled form.

"Superboy! What did you do?" M'gann gasped, horrified, "You went too far!" She cried, rushing forward to check on her wounded friend but a hand placed itself in front of her chest.

"No," the man in question started, "He went too far when he had our teammates lie about killing each other. There is nothing he could ever say or do to remedy that."

M'gann didn't speak. She brought her hands together and finally let the tears fall. "Maybe there's nothing he could do, but should we let him at least try?" She offered, a small placating smile appeared on her face.

"No."

"I didn't mean to," A wet, pained voice began. Nightwing. All eyes turned to him, the room filled with a mix of horrified and smug faces. "I would have done anything for them-" He moved to sit up, slowly, holding his ribcage. He sucked in a breath to keep from crying out. Something must be broken. Well deserved.

"-Except save them!" Lagoon Boy finally spoke up, always making himself the center of attention. Butting into things when his input was never desired, "They are dead Nightwing! You didn't do enough. You say you would do anything, then why don't you go die as a penance to your sins!" He screamed, and his outburst ignited something within someone else, Artemis.

"You lied to me," She said stepping forward in front of the group, "You lied to me, Kaldur, M'gann, Conner. You lied to everyone. The list could go on for all eternity. Your Five minutes were up a long time ago, Dick, and I think it's time you left." Her arms crossed over her chest, cutting off the last of the feeble bond they shared. What little remained, was cold.

"Artemis," Nightwing began, having made it onto his feet once more, albeit a little hunched. He was tired of this. They weren't listening. They weren't understanding, and they never will. He was their scapegoat, their easy way out. They all drew the long sticks and Dick didn't even get a chance to pick. Maybe it was time he became the monster they claimed him to be. Maybe it would ease their pain after he was gone. They wouldn't need to feel guilt over pushing him to suicide if they thought it was justified. It's time for him to go, permanently.

The so-called leader of the Young Justice Team sighed and rolled his shoulders, standing as tall as he could muster, "I know," he said, "You're right, Conner. I only came here to make myself feel better. You figured it out, but before I leave this cave, let me impart some wisdom upon all of you."

The Team remained silent. Perhaps they think this conversation will end faster if they were quiet. Perhaps they thought it would get Nightwing out of their hair faster. They were right.

"I know what it's like to be hurt, '' Nightwing began, "To be betrayed. You want to make them pay. Every fiber of your being screams at you to do something, anything, to make them feel the same hurt that you do, and it's okay." He paused, mostly for dramatic effect, but also because this would be one of the last things he'd say to his Team. Former Team.

Nightwing started stepping backward, slowly, towards the Zeta tube as he spoke again. It looks like Batman wouldn't make it in time to save him after all. Sorry, Wally. "I'm not going to judge you for being angry. It's okay." He said again. This would be the easiest route to take. Their minds had already been made up before Dick even arrived to apologize to them. "You've been hurt by those who should have protected you. You're allowed to be angry." He turned away from the Team and stalked closer to the Tube.

"You all were my mission," he paused, taking in a deep breath, "and the mission always comes first. Feelings were never a factor in that equation. The mission must always succeed." Dick paused in the threshold of the Tube and felt his world come to a halt. It wasn't rough like one would expect, it was rather soft, like a boat bumping into a harbor - like coming home. Only, it was a darker, twisted version of home. It was the realization of a life about to end.

"I'm going to miss you guys."

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To whom it will concern,

If you knew I was dying, would it change you? If you knew I was dying, would it change anything? I thought that if I acted like it didn't matter, then it wouldn't.

But I've come to realize that death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what died inside us while we lived.

-Richard Grayson

Dick crumpled the paper and threw it into the wall in front of him. This wouldn't work.

He took his coat and walked out.

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"You know, little bird, out of all the Batlings, I hate you the most." He spoke slowly, in an uncharacteristically neutral tone. His voice lacking its strangely high pitch and the usual unhinged laughter. "You should feel honored."

His chains held tight and Nightwing knew he wouldn't be getting out of this anytime soon, which was bad. Especially with the sudden change in Joker's personality. That paired alongside the injuries the man had already inflicted upon him, things were not looking good for Dick.

"You see," the Joker's breath hitched and he swirled around the table Dick was strapped to, "The second Robin -bless his heart- never quite had your," He waved his hand around, picking out a new tool, "spunk." He began to giggle, "This is why I'm going to have so much fun torturing you." A mischievous grin crossed Joker's face. It took him a moment, but he finally picked up his choice of weapon, and a deep separated chuckle rose from the back of his throat, his insanity finally revealing itself.

It was a crowbar.

"Let's see if I can make you sing more than your replacement did."

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He woke to the pounding sound of someone banging on his window. Grabbing the gun he kept on his bedside table, Jason crept forward into his living room, keeping his weapon at the low ready. It was three in the afternoon he discovered after a quick glance at his wall clock, too early for any guests, not that he was expecting any, especially with him being dead.

He approached the window cautiously, but dropped his gun and rushed forward once he saw who the intruder was.

Dick.

He unlocked the window and Dick climbed in, panting heavily as if he had run here with the Devil on his heels, which worried Jason slightly. He was in his costume, and if a hero ran away from something on patrol, it couldn't be good.

"Hey Dickhead," Jason started, following as Dick roughly pushed past him and headed for his couch, laying down, "What's up? If I'm being honest, I never thought you were going to show up again. You were being really ominous with all your talk about tomorrow," He shrugged his shoulders and moved to stand over Dick, arms crossed.

Dick looked exhausted, with deep bags resting under his eyes. His hair was pointing in every direction and probably hadn't been washed in a few days. Not to mention he had a massive purple bruise over his entire throat. Someone had strangled him. Maybe the Devil really was on his tail?

"Dick," Jason waved a hand in front of his face, leaning over a tad, "You okay? Where'd you get that bruise?" He asked, slowly moving his hand to inspect the bruise, not wanting to startle his brother. It was bad. Dick was lucky to be alive if Jason had anything to say about it. Whoever did this was trying to kill him, no doubt.

Dick shook his head slowly, and a blank expression settled into his features. "Just some thugs Little Wing," He finally looked at Jason, "You know how it is."

Jason would never admit it to any living or dead soul, but his heart broke a bit at Dick's words. Words he could clearly see as lies. He could tell something was horribly wrong with his brother, Jason just didn't know how to go about asking the big question. Might as well treat it like a bandaid and rip it off quickly.

"Dick, are you going to kill yourself?" Jason held his breath in anticipation, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer to that question. What would he tell Dick? That death is horrible? You still have so much to live for? Jason had died, he'd been dead, and then suddenly, he was waking up in the Lazarus pit. There was nothing after death. At least, there wasn't for him.

Dick sat up suddenly, almost bumping heads with Jason, "No, of course not. What makes you think that? I could never do something so selfish." He spoke, oddly neutral compared to his usual chipper tone.

"Right," Jason said, questionably, throwing in an awkward chuckle. "Of course you wouldn't. I don't even know what I was thinking." He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, "Y'know, in case you ever do feel like that, you can come talk to me. I'll listen. You know that right?" He looked to Dick, "We may fight a lot and get into stupid arguments, but I'm still your brother. I still love you, okay?" He looked to the ground, "I know I'm just making things awkward, but I wanted you to know that you can always come to me for help. I'm here, okay?"

"I know, Jay, and I love you too," Dick began, standing up off the couch and moving towards the window, "But it is time I head out, Bruce is expecting me to be back soon." He smiled softly, with sad eyes, "It was nice seeing you Jaybird." He stepped out of the window, "You'll see me tomorrow."

"Bye, Goldie."

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Batman rushed into Mount Justice with vengeance in his step. Tim and Wally appeared behind him after a few moments, sporting the same, deep anger, although Wally was practically boiling if you were to compare the two. As they walked, their names echoed in the Mountain, alerting its inhabitants to the impending doom that awaited them.

"Team, mission area, NOW!" Batman yelled into his wrist gauntlet, which projected his voice into the cave's main speakers. He walked to the center of the room, where the computer resided, and typed in a few override codes, codes that Nightwing himself had created. He was granted access to the security cameras and all their feed from the last twenty-four hours. This was something that Bruce, as a father, should have done a long time ago.

Wally walked up beside Bruce as Tim continued to lurk in the back. He peered over Bruce's shoulder, jaw clenched tight in barely suppressed rage. This was it. After Tim burst into the Manor screaming about how Dick was in trouble, he was finally going to really see how his "friends" treated his best friend. Tim had been as pale as a ghost when he got them, and Wally had nearly shut down because he had thought Dick was still in the Manor. But he wasn't. He wasn't at the Manor, he wasn't at the Cave. He wasn't with Wally. So where did he go, and what was he planning?

"How bad do you think it's going to be?" Wally asked hesitantly. He knew what Dick was going to attempt, even if Dick himself had no idea. Wally could see the signs. He saw them the first time he got a good look at his friend after coming back to life, and it hurt.

Tim shook his head and stepped forward when Batman didn't reply. "It's bad enough that I don't think Dick will be coming around to see anyone for a while," He paused and spoke quieter, "or ever."

Wally whipped around, venom on his tongue. He knew what Time was hinting at. "Don't you dare say that!" He pointed a finger at the little weasel, "You're his brother! You of all people should know better than to say something like that!" He heaved, so full of emotion. He was carrying too much, he needed an outlet. The weight was becoming too much. Wally needed to punch something, to scream.

"Wally," Bruce interrupted, "It's time, we have to watch it. We have to find Dick."

"I know," Wally swallowed thickly, grinding his teeth. God, he knew. Ironically, Bruce pressed play right as the Team walked in. At least Wally had something to hit now.

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He didn't even finish watching the video. As soon as he saw Conner slam Dick into the ground, he'd whipped around and slammed his fist into the half-Kryptonian's jaw. It felt good, watching Conner fall to the ground in surprise, sporting a broken nose, but it didn't ease the growing dread in his gut. Wally ran out of the cave after that, he ran straight to Gotham to start his search for Dick. He ran up and down every street, every building. He even went back to where Haley's circus had stood and Dick's parents had fallen. It was worth it to try. Dick always chose the weirdest spots to hide when he was upset.

But Dick wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere. Wally couldn't find him. He began to panic and the dread in his gut dropped like a lead ball. What if he didn't find him in time? What if he was too slow?

His phone vibrated in his pocket as he ran, but he knew it would be Bruce or someone from the Team. He didn't want to talk to them right now. It wouldn't be BRuce, he was out looking for Dick too. It had to be the Team. Dick didn't have a phone in his Nightwing suit. So Wally ran. He ran for hours, well into the night, and yet he still couldn't find his best friend. Finally, he stopped at Gotham cemetery, the only place he had yet to search. His hopes weren't too high.

He walked slowly, approaching two gravestones he knew all too well. After years of coming here with Dick, listening to him talk, he felt as if the Grayson's could be his own parents. They were always happy, Dick would say. But how happy could they be with Wally right now? He couldn't even find their son. His best friend. They did everything together! They fought crime, had sleepovers, ate pizza, and pulled pranks. Then Wally had to go and die, and Dick- Dick wanted to kill himself.

"Wally, I didn't get soaking wet walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. Open the door, I have soda!"

Wally kneeled on the Grayson family grave and whispered, "I'm so sorry. You trusted me to watch out for Dick. He trusted me, and I failed. I don't know where he is. I can't find him."

"Best friends are a rare breed and you Wally, are the best of best friends."

"I'm not going to stop looking for him. I found him once, on top of Wayne Tower, and I'll be damned if I can't do it again. I just wanted to stop by here first and talk to you guys. You should know."

"Look, I got more caffeine in my blood than water. It's going to take a lot more than one bullet to keep me down Wals."

He smacked his cheeks, hard. "I'm going to find him. I promise." He would not fail.

Wally stood up, brushed off his pants, took out his phone, and unlocked it.

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Judas swayed ever so slightly in the breeze, back and forth, side to side. His body would not be recovered. No one was looking for the betrayer, and so, his body swayed. Back and forth, side to side. The wind, being ever so kind, slowed for a brief moment, and placed a chaste kiss upon Judas' cheek, just as he had done to Jesus. The rope that held him up was strong, but the coin in his pocket would eventually grow too heavy, and down fell Judas' body. It crumpled into a broken pile, and the wind picked up once more. This time, it blew strong, forcing the sand over the body, burying it deep beneath a dune. It would never be found. Damnatio memoriae. 

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Well, guys, I'm still alive, although a lot of you probably thought I had passed on or something. I didn't. Life's been pretty crazy since I got back from my deployment in February. (It lasted 386 days. Too damn long). I turned 21 last month, neat, right?

Out of all the chapters, this one was the hardest to write. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I restarted it. Jeeze. But I made it. This is the second to last chapter. There is one more. The funny thing is the last chapter was the first one I wrote. It's been done since the story began, lmao. I was just working towards it. 

Anyway, I'll leave y'all alone now. As usual, let me know your favorite lines, scenes, paragraphs. What did you think? Hopefully, you like it. I would hate to disappoint. 

Til next time,

Rachel