Every Dog Has His Days, a teen titans fanfic

I do not own Teen Titans, nor do I own the characters from the show, comics, or any variation thereof.

On a planet called earth, in a country called the United States, was a young man who sat beneath a looming overpass, his only company the sound of the lumbering mammoths above relinquishing their sweet, life-giving tonics upon the earth in a heavy downpour. The young man, nearing his 19th year of age, sat there in his blue jacket, black cargoes, and black, worn out tennis shoes. He sat there listening to the accompaniment of the rain and the thunder in God's sweet symphony. The air was especially brisk that day and he had to occasionally wipe his running nose with the damp, blue sleeve of his thin jacket. He just sat there under the bridge, no cars passing over him for a good half-hour now, allowing the soothing sound of the rain splashing on the ground in a faint, repetitive patter to calms his nerves and relax his mind.

It was a quiet day in Jump City. The pungent odor of ozone was omnipresent to the sensitive nose, signaling an approaching storm. The luminous ball of burning gas was snuffed out by the dark, gray whales that swam across the blue ocean high above the city. Those who had the foresight to bring an umbrella along with them opened the man made pilei and held them over their own heads as the gatekeepers of the heavens opened the floodgates of the sky and released the tears of the gods upon the earth. Several miles across the bay of Jump City stood a looming tower, keeping watch over the iron citadels of the city opposite it. Within the tower was an amalgam of odd persons, a team, if you will, that devotes their lives to protecting the lives of those who reside in the city, and, on several occasions, the world. This team sat quietly in their tower, watching as the heavy storm clouds make their way over the city.

"I guess it's going to rain today." A moderately low, female voice said, breaking the silence that took residence in the air around them, permeating into the depths of each individual's mind. "Of course, you didn't need storm clouds to tell you that." It said as the hooded keeper of the voice turned to look at a green dog whimpering in a corner. "Guess somebody's afraid of thunder." She said smiling coldly. The green dog morphed into a pointy eared, green human in a purple suit with black legs and sleeves. The green shape-shifter scowled at the young girl wearing the blue hood, a small, sharp fang protruding from his mouth as he did so. "Excuse me?" The changeling asked indignantly. "I am not afraid of thunder." No sooner had he finished his sentence was the tower shaken by a colossal crash of thunder. "WELP!" The changeling shrieked as he jumped to the safe haven behind the couch. The hooded girl stared at the green boy, smiling. "My mistake." she said coolly. "There's no way you're afraid of thunder." The green changeling looked at her sheepishly. "Heh." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Obviously."

The young man sat under the overpass with his head resting soundly in his hands. His wavy brown hair was now damp from the rain water splashing, blowing, and sprinkling into it. His clear, blue eyes stared at the cold, concrete ground, watching as streams of water of raced down a small incline into a drain. The young man watched as the water went across the ground and down into the sewers below, where it would flow until it made its way back into the ocean or into a water treatment facility, where it would eventually evaporate and restart its long cycle. The young man, though he was present in body, was not entirely present in mind. He closed his eyes, deep in thought.

"Look, Dad! A cow."a young boy with messy, brown hair exclaimed as he pointed towards the large mammal grazing in a large field. His father turned to catch a quick glimpse of the brown animal as their vehicle sped past. "So it would seem." The boy looked up at the sky and saw large, dark clouds filling up the blue dome above them. "Daddy," the boy began. "Why are those clouds black and not white like the other ones?" The boy's father looked up at the dark clouds. "Well," the father began. "Those clouds are rain clouds; so that means it is about to rain." The boy looked up at the clouds and scrunched his eyebrows together, processing the new information. "Dad," the boy finally said. "Where does rain come from?"

The green changeling watched as the hooded girl left the large room adjacent to the kitchen through a pair of sliding doors. He turned to see the faces of three others in the room with him, one with a smile on its faces, another with a look of concern, and one who was preoccupied with going through information in what appeared to be some sort of government archive. The green changeling looked at the face of his closest friend, which was sporting one of the largest smiles he had ever seen. The green boy looked at his friends face, half-human and half-metal. He looked at the human eye, full of a paralyzing amount of jest, which the green one could swear he could see even in the red mechanical orbital that adorned his friend's dark face. "So," the large, metal halfling began. "You're afraid of a little thunder." The green shape-shifter's face was one of indignity, but before he could refute his friend another powerful roll of thunder crashed against the tower's walls, which, at the sound of, the green shape-shifter transformed into the form of a miniscule mouse and shuttled under the couch. As the thunder passed, the green changeling came out from beneath the couch and morphed back to his more human form. "Don't be ridiculous." The green boy said. The half-metal, dark skinned teenager stood up laughing, which became so uproarious that it blocked out even the sound of the rain pounding against the large windows overlooking the bay and the city on the other side of it. The green changeling looked at his cybernetic friend, glaring at him with his large green eyes. "Would you cut it out!" the green changeling shouted, but such an attempt was done in vain, for the cyborg kept laughing. After the changeling had said this to his friend, another voice spoke up, this one soft and female. "Yes, friend Cyborg. Perhaps it is not a good gesture of friendship to make mockery of friend Beast Boy's fear of the Thunder." Beast Boy shot his head around to look at the owner of the voice. "I'm not afraid of thunder." He shrieked. The young girl who had spoken up on the behalf of 'friend Beast Boy' leaned back and put her arm up to shield her face at the unexpected outburst from the green teen. "I am sorry, friend Beast Boy. I merely assumed that you were indeed afraid of the thunder based on your behavior in response to the loudness and magnitude of the thunder." The girl said. The half-robot teen, aptly named Cyborg, who had been keeling over with laughter, stopped long enough to witness the exchange between the two, which only sent him into another fit of laughter. Beast Boy, now fuming at this point, began to storm out of the room, only to be scared senseless by another clash of thunder, forced to take refuge under the refrigerator in the form of a small, green cockroach.

"Well, Simon," Simon's father said. "High in the sky lives a race of sky elephants, who disguise themselves as white, puffy clouds. The sky elephants live their days flying around and playing and doing whatever it is that sky elephants do.." Simon looked at his father with eyes full of awe and wonder, listening to him with every ounce of adolescent vigor he had. The father looked at him with his soft, piercing, green eyes with laugh lines on either side of them and continued to tell his son the story of rain. "... and when they sky elephants are finished flying around and playing and doing whatever it is that sky elephants do, they come down to the oceans, where they guzzle and guzzle and drink and drink all the water from the oceans." The small boy gasped as he thought about the entire ocean being drunk by flying elephants. "And when the elephants are finished drinking all of the water from the oceans, they go back up into the sky and continue flying around and playing and doing whatever it is flying elephants do, until..." The man stopped speaking and looked back out at the road. The small boy looked at his father intently, expecting him to finish telling him why it rained. The boy waited for a whole ten seconds before he could take no more of the waiting. "Until what?!" The boy asked, nearly shouting. The boy's father looked over at him, with a look of mock surprise. "Was I saying something?" Simon's father teased with a broad smile on his face. "You were saying that the elephants drank all of the water in the oceans and went back into the sky, until... but I don't know until what!" Simon said, clearly exasperated by the fact that his father could have so easily forgotten telling him such a crucial piece of information. "Oh ,riiiight." His father said thoughtfully, dragging out the word. "Well," he began again. "The sky elephants drink all of the water from the oceans and go back up into the sky and fly around and play and do whatever it is that flying elephants do, until..." he said, pausing for dramatic effect. He looked down at his son, who was looking up at him with a pleading look in his eyes. "Until," he continued, "they need to pee. And then they pee and they pee until the can pee no more. And that, Simon, is why it rains." Simon furrowed his brows thoughtfully, stroking his barren chin as he had seen his father do so many times before when he was thinking. "Gross." He finally said. Simon's father looked at his son from the corner of his eye, keeping his eyes on the road as he did so, but eventually reached a point where he could not contain himself any longer. The boy's father burst into a fit of laughter, only to be brought back to reality by the shrill voice of his young son screaming out to him, "DADDY!" The father looked out onto the road, only to see a large Ford F-150 veering onto their side of the road and come directly at them, until suddenly... Thunder crashed and woke the young 19 year old from his reminiscence, once again feeling the crisp, cold, wet air on his cheeks, Jack Frost nipping at his nose.