Okay, quick AN. The genre of this story is Romance/Drama/Angst/Humor. Yeah, weird combo, but I figure if it works with Bailey's… Anyway, this is a growing-up story, and Robin-centered. Warning: yes, there's important character death in here.
I figure the Titans are 18-19 in this story. Yes, Terra's dead, and everything's as canon as I could make it…I just messed with the intra-personal relationships. Of course, by canon storyline I mean Teen Titans storyline; Batman the Animated Series, Justice League, Batman Beyond, and Justice League Unlimited are, of course, severely screwed with. But who cares?
Yeah, it's RobinRaven. There's some nice one-sided RobinStar, as well as some StarBB and flashback-hints of RobinBatgirl and BatmanCatwoman. Deal with it.
BTW; I'm not the one profiting from either Teen Titans or Justice League. Or Batman. So I don't own them, okay?
The Teen Titans needed a new name; that much was perfectly clear. With Cyborg, it eldest member, only two weeks from turning twenty, the 'Teen' part was fast becoming obsolete. Though this did not escape our clever heroes' eyes, no one dared mentioned it. Their imminent adulthood was taboo in the Tower, the eternal playground of the five adolescent guardians of Jump City whose painful childhoods and turbulent development had left them more confused than the average, dizzy young adult.
The painful truth was apparent to the eyes. Beast Boy, for one, had left his soft, rounded days behind, and was a tightly wrapped package of musculature. Though certainly not tall, he had grown enough and was powerful despite the boyish haircut and charming, open face. There was even a surprisingly… charismatic glint in his green eyes, a suaveness that became all the more unsettling when one recalled the crude boy that he used to be—and sometimes still was. Cyborg, predictably, had remained almost the same—he had always seemed like a slightly smaller adult, anyway. At 1.90 m, he towered over most people, and his hard jaw and broad shoulders portrayed a seriousness only betrayed by the constant twinkle in his human eye. The always-observant big brother to the end, he played his role masterfully, while still managing to find time for his two obsessions: the T-car and Wonder Girl.
Starfire, too, had remained mostly unchanged—tall, waif-life and delicate—no amount of mustard seemed to be able to affect her complexion--, with small breasts and narrow hips, she had been called to model in magazine covers more than once. Her long, red hair and slender legs had won her alone quite a following in the media; everyone loved the silly, fun-loving sweetheart of the TT. Raven, on the other hand, had filled out very nicely; with full breasts, round hips, and pouty, pale lips, she had changed from Goth-girl into a seductive demoness of lavender hair and a 1.72 stature. Still brooding, still mostly silent, still mostly unfeeling, Raven had nevertheless secured a deep friendship with all the Titans—a certain bird in particular.
But of all the Titans, it was Robin that changed the most. The puny circus boy was gone, and instead there was a young man all but fully grown. Though his shoulders had drastically broadened nearly overnight, the lithe grace of an acrobat was still apparent in his supple body, which thrived with understated musculature. His voice had deepened as expected, but rather than the thundering rumble that came from Cyborg's throat, Robin's voice was full of undertones and all the startling subtlety of velvet. His face's angles had sharpened around his always-present eye-mask, and if you looked closely, you could find a rather unsettling resemblance to one Bruce Wayne. With every passing day, the red, green, and yellow of the Robin ensemble seemed to fit him less and less, while the black in the uniform seemed to become him. With his hair slightly longer and his smile slightly rarer, it was obvious that the boy Robin was slowly, but steadily, giving way to the young man who would be Nightwing.
Perhaps it was because of this that Starfire found it harder to look at him that particular evening, as they all sat around the kitchen table, engrossed in a game of poker. Though the Boy Wonder's grin was as cocky as ever, his comments just as good-naturedly sharp, his laugh as easy, the vision of Robin seemed to be over posed by the shadow of her memory, of that trip into the future in which she had met the Nightwing that could have been. Though confident that that particular future could not come to pass now—it was too late---, it still scared her, simply because it was an omen. Things were changing, and she was rather doubtful that it was for the best.
Desperate to relax and get her mind off useless insecurities, she inquired, "Friend Robin, was yesterday not the fifteen?"
Without turning from his cards, he answered her, "Yes, Star, it was. Why do you ask?" He pushed a couple of chips to the center of the table, opening the bid.
"I see your five," Cyborg, started, shuffling the cards in his hands, "and I'll raise you ten."
"Agh! You suck as a dealer, Rave." Beast Boy complained playfully, ignoring the glare the girl shot him. "I fall."
"I seem to recall you mentioning some event of great importance that was to take place on the fifteen of the present month. Oh, it seems I fall as well, Friend Beast Boy." She added, without so much a glance at her cards. To Starfire, winning was not nearly as important as solidarity and friendship.
"Don't blame the dealer. Someone as…cluttered as yourself is bound to have bad luck for this type of…games." Raven said, her monotonous voice betraying a hint of amusement. "I call." She threw a pile of blue chips into the pile. "Wonder Boy?" Robin threw a couple more chips in, and revealed his cards.
" Two pairs. Sevens and Queens. Event…on the fifteen? Are you sure, Star?"
"Shit." Cyborg dropped his hands. "Three Jacks."
"One down, one to go. Rae?" Robin turned to his right, addressing his friend, his hands itching for the very becoming pile of chips on the table.
"Straight flush. Hearts." She laid the cards down with a nearly imperceptible grin that made Robin smile back, despite his loss. Gracefully, she lunged across the table and dragged the money home.
"Dude, that's what, the fifth round in a row? Is she cheating?" BB muttered, his eyes staring longingly at the gigantic pile of soon-to-be cash resting on Raven's right.
"As I was commenting, Friend Robin, I distinctly recall some sort of…charity gathering to take place in Gotham City."
"Charity..?" Robin concentrated. The answer came instantly. "The ball. The Arcaham Asylum for the Criminally Insane Charity Fundraiser Ball, sponsored by Wayne Enterprises. Shit! I can't believe it… I completely forgot! Br—Batman will kill me!" An irrational fear had gripped him, and he found it hard to breathe. Bruce had stressed the importance of his—rather, Richard Grayson's assistance to the ball. The Batman had clearly stated the importance of Robin not neglecting his Richard persona, lest he became a being with no past and regretted it if he ever decided—or was forced—to hang up the costume. And as Richard Grayson, adoptive son and protégée of multimillionaire Bruce Wayne, his presence at the ball was, more than required, expected. Robin had assured the Caped Crusader that he would show up, and it was this promise, rather than the actual sin, that worried him. He hated letting either Batman or Bruce down. Completely disregarding the cards and chips in front of him, he banged his forehead against the table. "I'm." Thump. "A." Thump. "Dead." Thump. "Bird." Thump.
"Chill, dude! What would Batman care if you showed at some frilly-nice dance for rich people? I mean, if there'd be some robbing or stuff going down there last night, we would've known about it. 'Sides, ain't Gotham sorta his territory?" Raven shook her head at Beast Boy's attempts of cheering Boy Wonder up. She knew better, even if no one else did.
"Friend Robin? Please stop hurting yourself. There is nothing to be gained by the senseless killing of neurons." Starfire's timid words cracked a smile in everyone's faces, save Raven's, and they even made Robin stop banging his head—she sounded so genuinely preoccupied he'd feel remorseful to continue. He left his face pressed to the table anyway. Beside him, Cyborg began cleaning up. Taking an empty bag of nachos and a couple of dishes, he stood up.
"BB's right, Bird Boy. Too late to be sorry; I'm sure it's no big deal. Besides," he added, returning to the table and gathering the cards, "Batman hasn't called to yell at you, right? There you go—no problem."
"Hey! Watcha doing, dude? Gaming time's not over!" Beast Boy protested Cyborg's actions.
"Please." Raven addressed the green boy dryly. "Haven't you lost enough money already? By the way, I'm expecting my winnings before dinner tomorrow night, and I do take personal checks, so no excuses."
"I'll let you know," Beast Boy shot back, "that I still have a few aces up my sleeve."
"You have been cheating, Friend Beast Boy?" Starfire asked. "Why have you not won more, then?" Beast Boy face-faulted, and Cyborg chuckled.
"It's an expression, Star. He means he's not done playing."
"Oh, wonderful! What shall we play next, then?" she exclaimed eagerly.
"Hmmm…How about strip poker?" Beast Boy suggested rather avidly.
"Forget it. You're never getting me that drunk." Raven said, standing up to leave the room. She paused at the door. "Uh, again."
"Strip poker? What is this?" Star asked, staring directly at Robin with a too-innocent smile on her lips. Raven rolled her eyes; Star's constant struggle to 'secure Friend Robin's companionship' had been going on for years, and she, for one, did not buy this wide-eyed innocence act anymore. For one thing, she asked the same question every time Beast Boy brought up the game. Thankfully, Robin didn't even look up from the table. Raven frowned.
"Forget strip poker," Cyborg said, before somebody—Beast Boy in particular—answered the question. "How about a nice round of Death-or-Alive Extreme Beach Volleyball?" Though admittedly not his favorite game, Star seemed to have developed a rather…endearing attachment to it.
"I call the green controller!"
"I desire the purple one, Friends!" Both Titans were out the door in a blur. Cyborg chuckled again, and followed, leaving both Birds alone in the kitchen. Robin, for his part, was now mourning the waste of a perfectly legitimate excuse to visit Gotham City---he rarely did, nowadays, and it made him ache. He was startled to find that he missed the dark city; for all its corruption, Gotham was---a pair of cool hands on his neck broke his train of thought. Though startled, he didn't move as they began to slowly rub the tension off his shoulders.
"You should call Bruce, and apologize. It'll be fine." Raven's voice came from close to his right ear. She was right; he should call Bruce and—Bruce? Hadn't he said Batman? "C'mon, Boy Wonder. I'll walk you to the Communications Room." The warm breath and the gentle hands moved away, and Robin sat up, watching Raven leave the room. She paused at the door, and he stood up, feeling strangely comforted and only slightly confounded by the uncharacteristic physical display of affection.
They didn't say anything as they walked down the stairs and into the seventh floor landing, but that's the way it was with Robin and Raven. Though they were close--perhaps closer to each other than to the rest of the team--they weren't quite sure why or how. They just were, and while they could talk about mostly anything—except for their pasts—they chose not to quite regularly, and it suited them just fine.
They were almost at the Communications Center when a very loud beeping announced an incoming call. Robin swore as he ran to the controls, sure it'd be Batman ready to sermon him. With Raven beside him, he flicked the 'Talk' switch, and was surprised to find not Batman, but Batgirl on the line.
Barbara Gordon looked a mess. Her blonde tresses, always so immaculately styled, were in disarray. Her eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with watered down mascara, and her lips a pasty white against her tearstained face. She trembled even as she sat in front of the screen.
"Babs...what's wrong?" Robin was shocked to see his old girlfriend in such shape. A sinking feeling began in the pit of his stomach. It intensified when she sniffed for answer.
"Rich…" Babs never called him anything other than Dick--she knew how much he hated it—, especially not when he wore his uniform. Identities were not a matter of triviality in Gotham, and both of Batman's protégées had learned to keep them separate. "Rich, it's…" she sobbed again.
"Tell me what's wrong, Babs. Are you okay? Did something happen to you?" he pressed carefully, but she shook her head, actively crying again. "Is it your father? Or Alfred?" she shook her head again.
"Rich…it's Bruce." She finally croaked out, making Robin stumble. He felt Raven's hand on his shoulder, steadying him, but he was too shocked to be thankful for it.
"What about Bruce?" Robin's voice was tight, stretched, completely unlike his usual tones. Batgirl sobbed again, a wave of fresh tears coursing down used tracks through her cheeks. "Barbara, tell me, what about him?" His brain already feared what she might tell him, but all his instincts rebelled against it. Batman—Bruce was strong and powerful and brilliant. Nothing could get to him. He was the best. Better than Superman, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, the entire Justice League combined. The very idea—it didn't fit—against the grain, completely--Bruce couldn't be—
"He's dead, Richard. Bruce's dead!" Barbara finally sobbed out in her broken voice, a hysterical fit that surely wasn't her first of the day taking over her as she crumbled into herself. Robin felt all the blood leave his body, his hands felt empty, and his lips felt cold. He didn't know how he managed to answer.
"...are you sure?" He hadn't prayed in years, and found his skills to be quite rusty.
"Of course I'm sure! I saw the--- I saw him myself!" she exploded.
"I'll be right there Babs. Don't worry," his voice was completely foreign to his ears—dead and dry, hushed and dusty. "I'll be there before you know it." He didn't wait for her to acknowledge him, only flicked the monitor off and stumbled back, the emotional blow manifesting itself physically. Raven hugged him from behind. He felt her cool arms around him, felt her cradle him unto herself, rocking their bodies softly. He closed his eyes, trying to push the unbearable pain away, desperately fighting to replace it with the comfort of Raven's softness. She turned him around so that they were face to face, her arms enveloping him still. He pressed his face to her neck, his arms reaching around her and holding tightly; she was an anchor, driftwood in a sea of pain and confusion, and he struggled to hold on, to make himself smaller so as to better fit into her embrace, to disappear into her and God, it hurt! It hurt too much for conscious thought, and Robin's mind was gone, and he was in auto-pilot now.
Two tears managed to escape his eyes, before he pulled away. Raven didn't completely let go of him, her hands still on his shoulders. "I need---I need to get my stuff, and tell the others. I—I don't know how long I'll be…I'll take the R-cycle, I think. I'll be in Gotham in two hours—I need to—to tell the others, first. They--"
"I'll tell them." Raven's quiet voice interrupted him. "You just get your stuff ready, I'll take care of the rest, ok?" Robin nodded, still too raw for coherent speech. He left the warm cocoon of her arms, grimacing at the cold wall that seemed to slam into him the minute he stepped away. He continued walking, nonetheless. At the door, he turned, "Thanks, Rae, I—"
"You're welcome, Robin." Her voice was soft, almost tender. He tried to smile at her, but only managed a very small lip twitch. She recognized what it was meant to be, anyway, and nodded. As Raven watched Robin walk away, she was filled with a deep, deep sadness. The potted plant in the corner sighed and died.
Half an hour later, Robin was ready to go. He had changed into regular clothes, his mask, boots and utility belt the only elements from his uniform present. In a rucksack he carried a change of clothes, his communicator, his wallet, some money, his toothbrush, deodorant and precious little else.
The rest of the Titans awaited him in the common room, uncharacteristically subdued. Robin hated the pity in their eyes, but was thankful for the genuine sorrow and concern that glistened in them. He was surprised to see that Raven, too, had an overnight bag with her. His face must've reflected the question, for Cyborg said,
"We agreed someone had to go with you, Rob." The giant's voice was quiet. "I already called Aqualad, Speedy, and Wonder Girl, and they've agreed to come help us out for as long as we need; don't worry, I didn't tell them…what's happening. B, Star, and me will stay here and wait for them, in case something happens, but we'll join you and Raven as soon as we can." He laid a heavy hand on Robin's shoulder, giving him an affectionate squeeze. "You gonna be ok, Rob?" Robin nodded wordlessly.
"We're real sorry, dude. Bats was definitely one of the coolest people around." Beast Boy clapped him on the back, rather awkwardly, unsure as to how to behave. Star only stood in the background, quiet and still. They stood in uncomfortable silence, each one hesitant. Death had touched them once, long ago, but it had been a common burden. There had been no wrong attitudes, no expectations, just reactions. Now…they had nothing to guide them.
Finally, Robin walked away. Raven followed him, but not before assuring them that they'd call when they reached Gotham. Hurrying to catch up with her friend, Raven steeled herself. As unfamiliar as emotions were to her, she was convinced she was the best one to accompany Robin, and though Star and Beast Boy disagreed, Cyborg had thought so too. The matter had been quickly settled after that.
The truth was Raven was feeling very queer. Her heart ached for Robin; that much was to be expected. But there was something else, something deeper—she felt her heart breaking with him, and the urge to be with him, to share this brusque pain was so overwhelming, she was afraid she might not be able to control it and the Tower would burst into flames---she had already killed two plants and destroyed half the china. She couldn't understand it. Shaking her thoughts off, she climbed onto the R-cycle. Settling behind Robin, she clung for dear life as he sped off.
TO BE CONTINUED
Red Notes:
Some of the more experienced readers might detect certain recurrent themes; Batman's death, mainly. Rest assured that I will strive to stay off familiar paths. And don't worry, I'm in no way dropping BB, Cyborg, or Starfire from the story.
I'm basing the whole Gotham Family—Bruce, Batman, Batgirl, Alfred, etc.---off the Batman movies, mostly, with a little bit of JL and Batman the Animated Series thrown in for kicks. I don't think it matters, since none of them are Teen Titan material, anyway.
I know Raven might seem a little OC in this chapter, but have a little faith; everything will be revealed in due time. Or fixed, at any rate.
By-the-by, I'm shooting for three, four chapters tops for this story; depends on whether or not I decide to throw in a subplot concerning Batman's murderer. Any opinions on this matter are, more than welcome, encouraged.
Feedback is always treasured; reviews make my day.
Next up: Raven falls down the rabbit hole and into Wonderland---or rather, Gotham—when she catches a glance of Robin's home world. Robin contacts the JL, and the search for a cause of death is on while he is forced to confront the extent of his relationship with Bruce. Beast Boy frets; Cyborg's busy, and Starfire goes into a very uncharacteristic angst attack. Oh, yeah, and somebody falls flat on his ass.