Dick squeezed the narrow shoulder he was gripping, recognizing Duo's tone as the, "hey, we're just not going to mention how much I'm about to break because if we acknowledge it, it makes it that much harder to hold it together" for what it was.
"Being dead does put a crimp in the plans," Dick said easily, trying desperately to keep things light. His lips quirked up at the robot's question. Clearly an AI.
Then he squeezed once more. "Alternate self-versions suck." Because that wasn't Duo, or didn't have to be Duo. If there was one thing Dick had learned in his multi-dimensional escapades, it was that the future was completely maliable.
And dead, injuried, or zombie-fied versions of yourself couldn't be thought of as yourself, or you'd lose your mind. Living with that shadow was no way to live.