Bound in Darkness

Veiled Wounds

Starfire gently took his hand in hers, unable to find the right words. Her heart swelled with nothing but love and concern for him, and she wished she could take away all the pain he had endured.

"Perhaps we should go eat breakfast?" An attempt to get his mind off things was made, though, she wasn't sure if it would be successful. Starfire herself understood what it meant to be held captive and tortured for the use and amusement of others.

"Yeah." Richard looked at her, and in that moment, Starfire saw the vulnerability behind his usually strong exterior. His walls were crumbling, or, perhaps they already had.
The Titans gathered around their large dining table for their celebratory breakfast, laughter and chatter filling the air. The recent victory over Slade and finally having their leader, Robin, return home had lifted their spirits, but as Starfire glanced over to the man, she could see that something was amiss.
They all sat, each person filling their plate to the brim with lovely foods prepared by the two biggest foodies in the team. Garfield had his own provisions that were vegan and animal-cruelty free, just as he liked it. Victor partook in having an excessive amount of meat mixed with a sprinkling of some eggs and toast. Starfire and Raven both only took what they deemed necessary, each of them having a warm cup of tea as their desired drink of the morning.
Robin sat at the table, his eyes glazed over, lost in a world of his own. He picked at his food, barely taking a bite—preoccupied with self-doubt and haunting thoughts. He was incapable of getting rid of that lingering feeling that, deep down, perhaps he was a bad person.

"Robin?" The table quieted down as Starfire spoke, the rest of the Titans noticing a look of concern etched across her face. "Are you alright?" She asked softly.

He glanced at her for only a moment, but his eyes quickly returned to the plate of food in front of him. "Yeah, I'm fine." He mumbled, trying to put on a brave front. The joyous occasion had taken a sour turn as all of the others, too, had stopped eating their food.

"You can talk to me." She said gently, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "Us, all of us. Whatever it is that's troubling you, you don't have to face it alone."

Richard, with a quick motion, removed his hand from her grip and stood from his seat. "I don't need to talk about it!" He exclaimed. "I'm fine. I'm just... not.." He sighed. "Just leave me alone." Dick waved his hand, as if to dismiss any other comments. Without another word, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving the Titans behind. The quartet watched as he exited the kitchen, dragging his feet on the way back to his room. His outburst, while it had happened before, stunned the others into silence, and they exchanged worried glances. Robin was in no mood to explain himself or to be vulnerable in front of them. Or in front of anyone. Ever. After the ordeal with Slade, vulnerability was the last thing he wanted.
Starfire wanted to go after him, but she was aware that he needed his space, even if it broke her heart to see him in that way.

In his room, Richard paced back and forth, his frustration boiling over. He couldn't stand the thought of being weak. Of showing his fear. That vulnerability. He was supposed to be the leader—the one who always had it together, but it felt as if he was falling apart. He punched a hole through a wall in frustration, a release for the overwhelming emotions inside. The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the turmoil within. He had to be strong. He had to keep everyone safe. He couldn't fail. Not again. Not this time, and that meant burying his own feelings deep down.

As he stood there, Dick's anger gradually subsided, and a wave of sadness washed over him. He was tired. Tired of pretending that everything was okay. When it wasn't. When it never had been. He was tired of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders with no one to lean on.
He did have people to lean on, though, he simply refused to ask for help. That was his greatest weakness, perhaps. The inability he had to talk to those around him and get what he needed to off his chest.