A/N: This is an alphabetical summary of Robin. There are (many) angst pieces, some drama, a couple romance (but not many. I tried to stop myself), and even some humor. Enjoy my thoughts on Robin, and his thoughts on life.

EDIT (December, 2009): I've fixed this one up a bit, but essentially it is still the same. I hope you like the new beginning.

Disclaimer (for the entire story!): I don't own anything; not Teen Titans, not Batman, and not any of the lyrics that are used at the beginning of each piece. End of disclaimer.

Time Line: Season I

Red Breast

The North Wind doth blow

And we shall have snow

And what will the robin do then,

Poor thing?

He'll sit in the barn

To keep himself warm

And hide his head under his wing.

(poor thing)

Angel

"May you find some comfort there."

"Why are we here again?"

"Because, friend Raven, we were unsuccessful in saving the life of this man, and as such, it is our most tragic duty to accompany the family in their mourning."

"...Right."

"This place is boring. I wanna go home."

"Shut up, B. Be respectful."

My face doesn't change its position while my friends whisper around me. A voice in the back of my head mutters something about agreeing with Beast Boy, but I shut it out. The priest at the head of the room continues speaking about the deeds of this man; how we came from ashes and how we will return to ashes; and how he is finally at peace and where he belongs. On and on he goes, as does my friends murmuring. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This church brings back far too many memories. Memories that should stay buried far away in the Gotham Graveyard.

"Ashes? What does he mean by ashes?"

"Shut it, Beast Boy."

If I think about it long enough, I can hear their laughter: her spring giggle and his deep chuckle. If I squeeze my eyes shut hard enough, I can see their smiles. They come back to haunt me sometimes: when I'm tired, when I've been knocked out for the count, or in my sleep. Sometimes, when my team's happy, I can feel them around us, as if they're drawn to any pleasure in my life.

Right now, there is no pleasure. So they are not here.

"Please, why must everyone wear such a dull and dreary colour as black?"

"And what's wrong with black?"

"Uh... Nothing!"

That makes me happy, that their presence isn't here. I don't need another angry memory to taint theirs. I don't need another chorus of weeping, and sobbing, and spiteful glares in my direction. I don't need any more hatred to compromise their love.

I can't blame this man's family for wanting to hate me, though. It was my job. And I did fail. The man is dead - I am alive. I could've done more. I could've been more.

"Dude... Something stinks here."

"Are you sure it's not you?"

"Hey!"

"Shut it, Titans," I say; and by calling them that, I have given them an order. All of them paste stricken, guilty expressions on their faces, and bow their heads. I sigh and tune everything out.

I'm not really mad at them. People deal with grief different ways. My team needs to talk about it - even Raven does, to a certain degree. Me? I'm happier to wallow in my own misery until reality pulls me back up.

I figure I've got about another hour of wallowing. After that, there'll be another call, or another disagreement to settle, or another Earthen lesson to teach. Life never stops. The circle keeps turning.

I glance out the stained glass windows and wonder how long this is going to take. I've become soaccustomed to happiness these days, that I've forgotten that every day used to feel like right now - alone and shadowed. Now that I have to handle this pain for a couple of hours I don't think I can't bear it.

Funny. I never thought that would happen.

My gaze falls to the Titans and I take in their lowered heads. Now that I've forced them to listen to the ceremony, the misery is creeping up and stealing into their faces. They're dark and lonely and angry at themselves for not saving someone. Just like I am.

After the funeral, we'll give our condolences to the family, who will stare at us with grief-stricken eyes and hate us for not being enough. Years later though, they'll appreciate the gesture, and we won't be weighed down with the guilt. Then we'll go out into the sun and I'll buy them all pizza and poke and prod until they're back to normal.

This isn't the first time this has happened. And it won't be the last. But life has to keep going, and I can start them off. It's the least I can do. After all, they gave me a family.

I wonder if they can feel their parents smile down on them too.

- - - ANGEL - - -