Ch ???: R|||n

                                    

                                          
Third Person POV
In a certain house of four lives a mother, a father, their daughter, and their son. The daughter and son had just arrived from school.
Holding her older brother's hand, the energetic girl shouts to her parents,
Girl: "We're Home!" With joy.
Her brother simply smiles at her while their parents meet them at the front door with a smile of their own.
The parents seem to greet their children and ask the boy a question. The boy answers back as the girl vigorously nods her head.
Girl: "All my friends said he looked super cool when they saw him waiting for me outside of my school!" She exclaims, "Even at school they sometimes talk about you." She says to her brother while giving him a nudge and waggling her eyebrows.
The boy laughs it off and ruffles his sister's hair. The girl stands there with a goofy smile as she allows this to happen.
Girl: "But I said that they can't have him." She giggles.
The mother seems to ask her a question yet she has a look that says she already knew the answer. 
Girl: "Because he's all mine!" She exclaims as she wraps her arms around his waist. Because of her height that's as far as she can reach.
The brother smiles at his sister's childish antics, they always had the ability to make him smile. They were each other's other half. While the boy was calm and reserved, the girl was always the one who brought all the energy. She was the exact opposite of him.
The two parents giggle and look at their children lovingly, they know that their daughter is very attached to her brother, if not possessive, and her brother is just as attached.
They knew that as long as they had each other, they could get through anything.
Perhaps that was foreshadowing, but none of them had thought about it at the time, who would? The thing that was at the forefront of each of their minds was what was for dinner.
They were a happy family, each of them would agree that they wouldn't trade the world for each other, as most families would hopefully do as well.
Then there is a boy who watches this family go about their lives through a window. This window to him was like a snow globe, behind the glass is a beautiful sight. And behind the glass he'll never be.
As he watches the faceless father and mother he thinks to himself,
R|||n: "I've forgotten what my parents sound like."
Despite the pain, the boy shows no emotion. In the dark room with one window he stands and watches. Then as he looks at the faceless boy he thinks to himself again.
|obi|: "I've forgotten what I sound like."
But he knows a silver lining. He remembers his sister, it seemed like that was enough for him.
Then he looks away from the window. He knows that there is no point in dreaming. He knows that all this brings him is pain, the familiar pain of fleeting memories.
Yet even after knowing all of this he still desires to see his family. A Desire he knows that will never be fulfilled.
He tried one pointless attempt to see them again, and it ended up with him waking up in a different body.
So all he can do now is continue to live, and force the idea that he's doing this for his sister into his mind.
Because if he doesn't, then what's the point?
He walks deeper into the dark room until the window filled with light and happiness is no longer in sight.
Once he's far enough away, he looks back. There is nothing in front of him, nothing behind him, nothing around him. 
Seeing as though he hasn't woken up yet he continues to walk, like he always had. Walk and walk until something changes, whether he did it himself or the world decided for it.
And perhaps this world agreed, for a small light appears before him. A light not even the size of his pinky. He hears a voice.
Natalie: "Thank you, for everything."
One phrase that made all his work worth it. A phrase that was told as it began to snow. A phrase that belonged to the one he held dear.
Although he knows that this is all a dream, although he knows that anything he does here is pointless, he reaches out for the light.
Then it breaks into five pieces.
Each piece speak in its own voice, familiar voices, yet he can't seem to pinpoint who they were.
A voice that hides its true feelings
|||io: "Thank you."
A fulfilled voice paired with a single tear
||l|s||: "Thank you."
A quiet whisper that is almost missed.
||s|: "Thank you."
A once defeated, yet happy voice.
|a|||l: "Thank you."
And the voice of someone indebted to the boy.
|||||||: "Thank you."
He hears these voices, but can't seem to understand them. He struggles to understand why they felt so powerful.
He always thought that this simple phrase was special, but only special because it came from a certain person. So he can't comprehend why he feels what he felt back then with these unknown voices.
Happy.
He is so confused that for the first time in his four years as Robin, he breaks his emotionless face and... 
Then he is finally released from the dream.