Realignment
A vengeful sidekick wakes up in a world different from his own. Five years later, what should have been a one-time alliance grows into something more as Starfire sets out to piece together the mystery of Red X's past. Their not-quite friendship becomes more than what either of them bargained for, but the more Starfire learns about the masked thief, the harder it is to stay away. Red X/Starfire, Robin/Starfire.
Five years ago
He wasn't in Gotham.
Or, rather, he was – it just wasn't the Gotham he knew. This wasn't the city where he'd been born, bred, and buried. It was . . . brighter somehow. Less run-down, less seedy.
Not that it wasn't still crap though. The air still stank with smoke and shit, garbage still lined and covered the pavements, the back alleys still brimmed with scum and street rats. He still recognized every crumbling building and each derelict street, and he could still find all the secret passages and holes in the wall he had grown up exploring.
But he knew Gotham City like the back of his hand, and this wasn't his Gotham.
For one thing, the abandoned building where he had woken up in wasn't a smoking pile of debris. It should have been – after all, the Joker had shot the bomb with his own gun. In his experience, death and destruction tended to follow psychotic clowns with explosives.
And yet . . . he had woken up relatively unharmed. Still bloodied and bruised, but not as he should have been after the fight. The Batman and the Joker were nowhere to be seen, and nothing in the building indicated that either of them had been there to begin with. It was almost as though last night's events hadn't taken place. As though that goddamn train wreck of a confrontation, that disastrous realization of his carefully laid plans, had never happened at all.
Perhaps it hadn't.
A quick tour around the city confirmed his suspicions. Though he recognized the area, there were a number of things that threw him off – a little boutique where there should have been an empty lot, a restaurant that had closed down ages ago, a convenience store with a different name. . . . His safehouse too was gone, as bare and empty as the dilapidated warehouse he had found himself in. Buildings that should have been destroyed – those that he had destroyed himself in his attacks against Black Mask – were intact, and there was nothing to show for all the months he had spent cleaning up the city.
The newspaper he had stolen from the park was the final nail in the proverbial coffin. The date was all wrong – nine years, eight months, and six days too early.
So I'm a time traveler now, he had thought. Whoop-de-fucking-doo.
Except it wasn't that. It had taken him some time, but eventually he had been able to hack into the Batcave's database. What he found left him reeling, his stomach churning with dread as he combed and read through everything he could.
This wasn't just time travel, he realized. This was something else entirely.
It took him a while to plan his next move. He allowed himself a moment to marvel at how utterly batshit crazy his life had become, before going to nearest clean diner he could find and considering his options. He couldn't stay in this place, of that he was certain. Not when there was another Batman running around, probably with another young impressionable idiot in bright spandex trailing after him.
But where would he go? Back to his Gotham?
Not fucking likely.
There was no way he could go back there, not after everything that had happened. He never should have returned to Gotham in the first place. Going back had been a mistake, and he had no intention of repeating it any time soon.
Let the Batman deal with the Joker – let that piece of filth live and hurt and destroy if that was what these so-called heroes wanted so badly. Let the Batman have his shiny new Robin and his army of child soldiers. Let them pretend that Jason Todd was nothing more than a failure, a torn costume behind a glass case.
It didn't matter now. There was nothing for him in Gotham. Not anymore.
And this place? This cleaner, happier Gotham?
There was nothing for Jason here either.
Part 1
REACQUAINTANCE
Chapter One
Present
Starfire couldn't quite keep her feet on the ground. She couldn't help it – the anticipation made her feel lighter than air, and that alone made it impossible to stand still.
"Calm down, Star," Robin had said during breakfast. "People will recognize us if you keep floating like that later."
All day, he had had to hold her hand just to tug her back down, and more than once he had joked about not wanting to see her fly off without him. Their friends had exchanged glances each time, making comments about them being "so sweet that I'm gonna puke if y'all don't get a room."
Starfire had long since grown used to the teasing, but such things still made Robin uncomfortable. She had feared that Cyborg and Beast Boy's remarks would sour his mood. To her relief, they had not, and she could tell that he was as excited as she was about their evening plans.
Even in the two years since she and Robin had – to use her friends' words – become an item, they rarely had time for themselves. Dates and romantic overtures were not uncommon, but they were often interrupted by sudden criminal activities and overtime mission research.
Not so tonight, as Robin had assured her. Tonight would be different. Tonight would be special.
"Don't worry about a thing," Cyborg said before they left. "We got this. Go on and enjoy your date."
"Speedy offered to cover your patrol route," Raven said. "He'll be here in a few hours. We'll call the rest of Titans East if there's trouble."
"Which we won't need to," Beast Boy insisted. "Dudes, seriously, it's just one night – what could go wrong?"
And so their evening went on as planned, with Starfire trying to assuage Robin's worries about their night off. Though they had no ongoing case, Robin tended to worry about unexpected missions. He could never bring himself to sit one out no matter their plans, despite her and her friends' assurances. It was the only explanation she could think of for how restless he grew as the night wore on.
"I am sure our friends will contact us if they are in need of aid," Starfire said after they had finished their appetizers.
Robin shook his head. "I'm not worried about that."
"Then please, Robin, what is the matter?"
"Nothing," he said, smiling softly at her. "Everything's perfect."
But Starfire didn't miss the way he fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt. He kept pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, as if to ensure they were still fixed firmly on his face.
She had wondered then if he was simply uncomfortable because of their location. Robin had taken her to an apparently posh restaurant, fancy and elegant for Earth's standards. Perhaps he was unhappy with his attire – a monkey suit, Cyborg had called it. Perhaps he was unsettled by the stares they were getting – though why they were being stared at, Starfire couldn't tell. Was it because of Robin's sunglasses? Had Starfire blown their cover somehow?
"Is it the food?" Starfire whispered. "Does it displease you?"
That made him chuckle. "Well, I was expecting a bit more on our plate for what we're paying, but it's all right."
"Indeed. Are all swanky food so . . . small?"
"Swanky, huh? Beast Boy told you that, didn't he?"
"Yes . . . is that not the appropriate term?"
"They prefer to be called 'high-class'."
"But they are not of a great vertical extent. The restaurant is only one floor."
Robin snickered, weaving his fingers through hers on the table. "That's not what I meant," he said, then patiently explained Earth's strange colloquialisms.
Starfire thought that was the end of Robin's unease, but his agitation returned as they finished dessert. Their conversation had died down, and she found it hard to keep her spirits up when he was so obviously on edge.
"Are you sure there is nothing the matter?" she tried again as they stepped out of the restaurant.
"I'm fine, Star. I promise."
"You have been most troubled this evening," she pressed. "Are you unhappy with our date?"
His face softened. "I can never be unhappy with you, Star," he said, squeezing her hand as they walked. "I'm just nervous, that's all. I'm sorry if I ruined our night."
"It has been lovely, Robin. I am merely concerned that you are so distressed. Please, why are you nervous?"
He paused in his tracks, his hand slipping off of hers. For what seemed like a long while, he didn't say anything, his jaw working silently as he stared at something she couldn't see.
"There's a circus in town," he said at last, slow and hesitant. "It's their last night. I was thinking we should go and check it out."
Starfire blinked at the sudden change. She had half a mind to point out that he was avoiding the subject again, but something in his demeanor stopped her. Robin hadn't been this nervous about their dates since those first few weeks after Tokyo. Why did he seem so tentative now? What is it about this circus that made him so anxious?
"What is a circus like?" she asked timidly. "Is it dangerous?"
He finally turned to her, eyebrows rising in surprise. "What? No, of course not – well, I mean it can be but – no, it's not like that, it's –" he broke off, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. "I'm not explaining this right," he muttered. "A circus is – it's like a carnival."
"Oh! Carnivals are fun, yes?" She smiled sweetly, remembering the last time they had been to one. The memory still made her heart flutter, and not even the thought of her sister's visit could mar it.
"Yeah. Fun." Robin mumbled, and Starfire faltered. He must have seen it because he hurried to add, "It's great, Star. There's exhibitions and performances and – we're not exactly dressed for it, but you'll love it. I know you will."
He grinned at her and she was quick to smile back. Gone was his enthusiasm from this morning, but he was trying. X'hal, he was trying. Surely this circus would not be as bad as it seemed?
They made the rest of the trip in silence. A lot seemed to be going through Robin's mind, but at least Starfire would finally see the source of his discomfort. As they neared their destination, she began to hear the sounds of laughter and music, and soon she saw a large tent and bright lights.
The sign read Haly's Circus, in large, shining letters. The unmistakeable air of merriment that radiated from the tent excited Starfire. There was still some tension in Robin's shoulders, but there was something else too. Wistfulness, perhaps. A pensive longing that reminded her of those days when she thought of Tamaran or of those rare instances when he spoke of his father.
"It is beautiful," she said, beaming at Robin.
He laughed quietly. "You haven't even seen the inside yet."
"But I am certain it is." It had to be, to inspire such a reaction from Robin. "We will have a wonderful time, I am sure. I cannot wait to see these exhibitions that you speak of!"
"About that," he said, tugging her down to the ground again. "Before we go inside . . . I was thinking – there's something I need to – I . . ."
Starfire waited as he composed himself. Posture straightening then slouching then straightening again, breathing in and out through his nose, clearing his throat as he looked for the words to say.
"This circus is," he began, "it's – it's important to me. And I – I think it's time I tell you about that. About me and . . . who I was before. Before Robin."
Suddenly she understood. She took his hands in hers and leaned as close as public decency would allow.
"You do not have to tell me," she said gently. "I understand that you have secrets you must keep, that they are not yours alone to divulge. I shall not do the pushing on you if you do not wish to reveal them."
"But I do want to tell you," he whispered, his tone just as soft. "I want to tell you everything. I trust you more than anyone. More than anything. And I – it's about time I show you how much I mean that."
Starfire didn't know what to say. It took all her resolve to keep herself rooted to the ground. Heart thudding in her chest, she could do nothing but stare as Robin lifted her right hand to the edge of his sunglasses.
"Robin –" she started.
"Go on," he said encouragingly, a nervous smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Will you do the honors?"
Before she could answer, before she could lift the sunglasses and see his eyes for the first time, his communicator rang.
With a groan, Robin pulled away. Starfire frowned as he pulled his beeping communicator from his pocket.
"Hate to interrupt your date," Cyborg said, his face grave. Starfire could hear the clash of metal in the background and the high-pitched cries of panic in the distance. "But we need backup."
The site that greeted them was utter chaos.
The Titans were scattered everywhere, struggling to fight against armored humanoids that towered over even Cyborg. A silver helmet covered the enemies' faces, and they didn't seem at all affected by their friends' efforts to subdue them. Hulking limbs brushed off each attempt as though they were flies, and they could leap from block to block in a single bound, leaving gaping craters in their wake. Red lasers shot out from their hands, not unlike Cyborg's own sonic blasts, burning holes into the pavement and tearing through buildings.
None of the Titans seemed to be faring well against the new villains. There was too many of them and they were too scattered about. The most that their friends could do was evacuate the area – no matter what they did, nothing could stop the monsters. Even Starfire's starbolts barely slowed them down.
"Where's Titans East?" Robin yelled above the din as he evaded another blow.
"We can't contact them!" Beast Boy cried. "Our communicators are fried!"
"But you were able to call us!" Starfire said, shooting yet another ineffective starbolt at the nearest robot alien.
"There was an electro-magnetic surge when these things arrived!" Cyborg shouted. "It knocked out satellite signals coming in and out of the city. We're on our own!"
Robin gritted his teeth in frustration, but there was little else they could do but fight. Starfire stayed close to him, covering his back as he did hers. They moved with the same synchronized adeptness as they always did, and so when Robin suddenly signaled for her to fly higher into the air, Starfire didn't hesitate.
She zoomed up, high enough to see the roof of the Tower. There, she found a lone robot, though this one did not resemble the others. It wore the same armor, but it was slighter and slimmer, with long black hair flowing from its helmet. Fists clenched, Starfire zoomed towards the figure. Just as she was about to aim her eyebolts at it, the robot turned, its raised hands crackling with white bolts of energy.
What came next happened so fast that Starfire had no time to dodge, no time to think. There was a flash of light, a flare of pain, and suddenly she was falling. She knew she needed to fly, needed to move, needed to brace herself before the unyielding concrete slammed into her body – but she couldn't. Her limbs felt weightless, immovable. A wave of numbness washed over her.
She wasn't sure if she was still falling or if she had stopped or if she was even awake at all when she heard it – a voice. There was a metallic edge to it, and a part of her knew that she should have recognized it, should have known who it was. But the voice sounded too far away, and she was tired . . . so tired. . . .
Before her world fell into blackness, she could have sworn she heard it say, "You're safe now."
Starfire wished she could believe it.
