Disclaimer Haiku:
Teen Titans are not
Mine. Speedy is actually
Fine. He is so fine.
A/N: This is the little fic that could, meaning it started off as a one-shot and turned into substantially more. Technically I'd like to have posted it as a one-shot still, but it really is too long for that. So it's being uploaded as a multi-chapter, but I'd like all readers to keep in mind that it wasn't originally written that way. Don't worry about the jumpy timeline. This is a story told partly in flashbacks. Just give it a chance to make sense and it will, I promise.
Additionally, though I've written this to fit in right after the end of Teen Titans canon, it was partially inspired by something that happened in The Ties That Bind, a future-fic I wrote for JLU (because that fic wasn't angsty enough). Familiarity with that fic is not necessary for this one though.
Look Through My Eyes
© Scribbler, September-December 2007.
There will be times on this journey when Just take a look through my eyes, -- from Look Through My Eyes by Phil Collins.
All you'll see is darkness;
But out there somewhere
Daylight finds you
If you keep believing.
So don't run,
Don't hide,
It will be all right.
You'll see,
Trust me,
I'll be there watching over you.
There's a better place somewhere out there.
Just take a look through my eyes.
Everything changes;
You'll be amazed what you'll find
If you look through my eyes.
1. All You'll See is Darkness
He felt like he'd tried to tackle a tree – a very large tree with an extensive root system, all covered in fragments of broken glass. Sharp pain zinged around his body, but after the first few agonising seconds the pointed edges blurred together to become a mass of dull throbbing. That didn't stop his left wrist becoming molten with pain when someone knocked into him, jarring him as they swung a punch (a fight? Here? Now?) at someone else.
Then things went quiet, but he couldn't see … anything.
Why? Why couldn't he see? He felt suddenly helpless that there were people in the room and he couldn't see who they were. He could feel their presence, heard them panting, but … who was there? Friend or enemy? He wasn't sure which he'd prefer right now.
He might've made some noise, because they stopped and talked over his head like he wasn't even freaking there.
And that sense of not-there-ness was even worse than the helplessness.
The girl was slender as a candle flame, with an elusive, glancing beauty. She looked soft and vulnerable, her clothes too big and her hair too long, dwarfing her face with its big watery eyes. She cowered when he came near, hunching up against the wall with her knees to her chest, even though the mugger was gone.
She had no purse.
It was the only clue she wasn't what she seemed, and he missed it.
"You okay?"
She nodded mutely.
"Did they hurt you?"
She shook her head. Her mouth turned up in a smile and she held out a hand to him. He took it as a sign of trust and reached to help her up.
That was when she leaped to her feet, impossibly fast, and jabbed the needle she'd been hiding into his neck. He pushed her away, but already his knees were weak and his vision cloudy. His fingers fumbled so he couldn't snap open his communicator.
He saw her smile turn hard as he crashed to the ground.
Bumblebee went from disbelief to total fury in three seconds.
When Cheshire was subdued and they flipped on the light she was ready to rip the bitch's heart out with her bare hands. Only the naked horror on Mas and Menos's faces restrained her.
"¿Él se recuperará?" She knew it was bad. Mas spoke tremulously. Neither he nor his brother did tremulous. They were livewire bundles of hyperactivity, brimming with enough reckless bravery they'd been key in bringing down the Brain. They were el major - the best of the best of the best.
His hand.
"He'll be fine, guys, but we need to get the emergency services up here," said Aqualad.
His hand
"Uh, Bumblebee?"
Beast Boy's voice snapped her back to reality. "What? Oh, sure. Yeah. We gotta do some triage."
She looked at Cheshire, cuffed and unconscious on the floor. It'd taken all of them to bring her down. A set of knives were jammed into the plaster on the far wall, and blood dribbled down Aqualad's leg from a wound in his thigh. Cheshire had been aiming for his femoral artery. Only by ripping out the faucet and pinning her against the ceiling with all the water from the pipes had he managed to save himself.
"And take care of that," Bumblebee added.
Aqualad nodded. "I'll do it." He knew her too well. She was a good leader, a good Titan, but she couldn't predict what she might do if left alone with that bitch right now…
Speedy groaned.
Ohmygodhishand.
"Get those paramedics up here – now!"
"He's been gone too long and he hasn't made radio contact in over three hours."
She brushed Aqualad away, leafing through the pages of a police report she'd discovered while cleaning up last week's pizza boxes, which was supposed to be filed last Thursday. It was for the murder of a museum security guard, still unsolved, and stained with grease and tomato sauce. Police Chief Wolfman lurved his paperwork and was going to have her wings as a trophy for this.
"I'm not kidding, Bumblebee. This feels wrong to me."
"Speedy never follows the rules. He's probably bumming dinner from that diner with the waitress who likes him. You know, the one with the big bazoomas. She always sneaks him a free hamburger. He'll be back soon."
"I don't know…" Aqualad glanced out the Tower's huge main window, as though scanning for the only teammate left to return from patrol. Up here, all they could see was the concrete decking of the helipad and open ocean. If Speedy was patrolling that, his sense of direction was worse than she'd thought. "I have a bad feeling about this."
Bumblebee sighed and glanced over the top of her report. "It's probably just gas from that lentil stew. He'll be back."
Three days later she cursed herself for a fool.
Speedy resurfaced and blinked. Automatically aware his mask was missing, he tried to reach for his face but found his arms stuck full of wires and tubes. Nearby, a faint bleeping picked up speed. He breathed in the acrid scent of antiseptic.
A hospital.
Or … some kind of medical facility, at least. He once spent some time in an army Medical Corps tent, after he and Ollie chased some lowlife to Lebanon. You couldn't take anything for granted in this game.
He still felt like crap, which was about all he could remember from before he conked out. When he moved, bandages pressed against his skin. More tubes poked out from under them, making him feel like something from a bad anime about test subjects who run amok to wipe out humanity. Or perhaps an extra in ER. Yeah. Maybe with that pretty Indian nurse soothing his brow with a damp washcloth…
Smoothing sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. Fingers running along his jaw line, smearing the blood from his cut lip like a clown's made-up smile. The smile staring back at him never flickers – not surprising, since it's painted on. He gathers saliva and blood in his mouth to spit at her, but she pinches his cheeks, shakes her head, and drives the knives on her hand deep into his shoulder –
The memory bullwhipped into his mind, and suddenly everything came flooding back. He wanted to cover his face again, but couldn't, and when he'd nearly yanked out all the wires a bunch of orderlies came to restrain him.
"God damn it, let me through!" a familiar voice cut through the melee.
He smiled. It was about all he could do, since if he thought too hard about anything else he was going to scream out loud or start laughing like he couldn't stop. "Bumblebitch. Better late than never."
"Speedy? Hey, get offa me! That's my teammate in there!"
"Miss, you really do need to leave. We've got this under control."
"The hell you're keeping us out. I'm pissed off, powered up and full of coffee. You do not wanna tell me I can't see him right now."
Same old Bumblebee – mean as a snake and twice as dedicated to her team.
First through the door when they break it down. First to see him tied to the chair. First to see the strategic rips in his clothing, the blood, to meet on oncoming whip of dark hair and shiny knives…
First through the orderlies to see him trussed up and helpless like a Thanksgiving turkey.
Suddenly Speedy really wished he was still unconscious.
"Bumblebee to Robin, do you read me?"
"I read you, Bumblebee."
"What've you got for me?"
"We haven't found anything yet, but Raven's decided to do a general mind sweep."
Bumblebee nodded at the tiny image on her communicator. Raven couldn't pinpoint minds unless she'd been in them before and had a link to follow back to its source. She'd never been in Speedy's head to heal or speak with him. She had been at pains to explain that when Bumblebee cornered her two seconds after the Titans arrived.
"It's like a phone connection. I need a wire to trace, and I need to know which wire is which in the huge tangle of all the other minds in the world."
Fury effervesced in Bumblebee at the lack of quick fix, so she just dispatched them with the order to alert her and the rest of Titans East the moment they discovered anything – and she meant anything. Bad enough things had gone so far they had to call in back-up to find one of their own, without being cut out of the loop completely.
The image flickered and the screen split to show Cyborg, expression full of concern. "How you holding up, Bee?"
She gritted her teeth. "I'm peachy freaking keen. Just tell me if you find him."
Three days. Three days since Speedy went missing, and they hadn't found a single trace anywhere, except the bow left on their doorstep the first night and the empty, blood-spattered quiver on the second. Whoever left them had slipped past East Tower security like smoke, not even appearing on the video cameras. Added to that, Speedy's communicator was offline, untraceable and presumably destroyed. It was as if he had vanished off the face of the earth.
Bumblebee refused to believe he was dead. It was too much a condemnation of her own mistakes.
Beast Boy changed back from his bloodhound shape and looked at her. "These things smell of yeast." He nodded at the quiver and bow.
"What?"
"And flour and eggs. Is there a bread factory anywhere in Steel City?"
"No. Pretty much everything's brought in from the outside. The only things Steel makes are armaments, chemicals and illegal mutants. That's why it's known as America's Cesspit."
He reverted to bloodhound, sniffed the items, and turned back again. "How about a bakery? Are there many of those in Steel?"
"The health inspectors left a couple open. Should we check them out?" She didn't have any better ideas, after combing the city and surrounding ocean before the Titans got there. The police hadn't had any luck, either – not from cops on the street, nor from those pressing criminals already custody with known grudges against the Titans.
"Uh, sure," Beast Boy said, evidently surprised she was heeding him and his nose. "I also smelled motor oil, so a bakery near a garage or car lot might be a good place to start."
Carla's Cakes, on 25th, next to Honest Moe's Used Cars and Mechanics. Titans East fought a magnetic monster there last April. Mas nearly got squashed by a flying Buick until Speedy tackled him to safety, and people said the fireball could be seen all the way from nearby Calico City.
"Titans, move it!"
"So … I hear they do wonderful things with prosthetics these days."
A lump caught in her throat. She couldn't talk, which was a first for her. She always had plenty to say; loudly, proudly, whether you wanted her to or not.
Speedy wasn't looking at them. He talked like this was normal; like they were talking about the weather, or what to have for lunch. The weather was sunny – day dawned hours ago and the breeze was sharp and acrid as ever. Lunch would probably be more sandwiches from the hospital kitchen, or candy bars and soda from a vending machine.
"Really impressive things," Speedy continued. "You'd hardly know it was fake. And since I'm a ward of the Queen estate, I have the kind of health insurance that gets you jumped ahead in line and pays for the very best, even though I haven't spoken to that bastard in months-"
"Roy -"
"Don't!" The word snapped like the tip of a bullwhip in her face, making her blink. "Just … don't. It's Speedy. Don't think this is going to slow me down. This?" He waved his left wrist, which ended in an ugly, bandaged stump. "This is nothing. I'll still be able to draw a bow."
She bit her lip. Maybe. Maybe not. Nothing was certain, except that even if he could someday practise archery again it would be a long, painful process to get there. And despite his protests, he'd probably never be Speedy again. You couldn't fight crime with a missing limb and pieces of kneecap floating around inside your leg. You couldn't keep other people safe when you weren't safe to be roaming the mean streets of Steel on your own. Steel chewed people up until they weren't much more than bloodstained gristle.
The doctors said he might need a cane. A cane.
They all agreed Speedy was the lightest on his feet. He had to be. With no aquakinesis, no superspeed, no flight, starbolts, hardware or shapeshifting, all that stood between life and death in the field were his arrows and his agility.
A freaking cane.
"Raven said she can take care of a lot of it, once she's meditated some and juiced herself up." Speedy nodded, patting his right hand in a staccato rhythm against the bedclothes. "I'll be fine. A little sore, and then there's the obvious." That stump again, waving around, trying to gesture with invisible fingers. "But everything else will be fine. She once healed Robin of everything except a broken wrist when he drove his bike into a concrete pillar. At least I wasn't that dumb."
Robin was also really light on his feet. The idea of him laid up in a hospital bed, or using a cane was ridiculous. He would survive. It should've given them hope. It only kind of did. The worst wounds were the ones you couldn't see, and they were all too aware of that fact.
Speedy's smile was just a little too bright. Though he'd demanded a fresh mask, his gaze was also too intense, too jovial to be real. He could be cheerful, sure, but not for long periods. His default state was arrogant asshole spiced with bored teenager.
"They said you refused to speak to the counsellor," Bumblebee started, since nobody else wanted to.
Titans West had retired to their guest rooms in the Tower, leaving Titans East the privacy to tend to their teammate. They knew all about psychological damage, having nursed themselves through plenty. Maybe Robin or Cyborg could give her a few pointers, because she wasn't handling this very well.
Speedy waved her away. "I don't need to talk to anyone who's just going to call me a crackpot for dressing in tights and shooting arrows at criminals."
"That's not what it's for -"
"I'm fine, Bumblebitch. A-okay. 100 per cent kosher."
Except that you were starved and tortured for three days, plus God knows what else she did to you that made the doctors huddle and refuse to discuss it like that. The lump in Bumblebee's throat was the size of a bowling ball and about as digestible.
"And I'll be even better when the results of those STD tests get back and prove I'm okay." Wave, wave, wave – she felt sick and clamped her teeth on her tongue. "Again, apart from the obvious."
He wasn't okay. He wasn't even close.
And everyone knew it.
"… lacerations on the wrists – rope burns I think…"
"… paramedics said it looked like he was tied to that chair for a while…"
"… massive disfigurement of the left thigh, but somehow the artery is completely intact…"
"… I don't think that hand is saveable; it's too badly damaged …"
"… get the rest of that damn mask off, it's hanging by a thread and we need to see that gash through to his cheekbone…"
"… smashed heel and kneecaps from what looks to be blunt force trauma…"
"… no history, so a low probability of post-trauma epilepsy, but just to make sure…"
"… severe dehydration…"
"… extensive musculo-skeletal injuries…"
"… urine and blood samples to the lab for analysis…"
"… only a kid…"
"… poor boy …"
Bumblebee didn't cry. She wouldn't let herself cry because she didn't deserve to. She'd ignored Aqualad's bad feeling, and look where it'd gotten them. She wasn't fit to be leader.
Please don't let him die … she prayed to something she wasn't even sure existed – and if even it did she didn't know if she believed in Him. He held on for three days waiting for us to come rescue him. Three whole days with that nutjob, and he came through it. It has to count for something. You can't punish him for that. Please don't let him die now-
"Bumblebee?"
She turned to find Robin, Starfire, Raven and Cyborg in the waiting room. Each wore a different expression; Robin's darker than the night sky outside. Around them clung a feeling of apprehension, even though Beast Boy had no doubt filled them in on what was happening before they arrived. More likely they were apprehensive of her reaction, and that of the rest of Titans East.
Aqualad was holding things together, though Mas y Menos looked in shock. They'd never seen something that bad before. She tried to keep them away from the nasty stuff – the murders and gang wars and basic human-human viciousness. Give them a big pink monster and they could play hero. Give them a case of spousal abuse and they had to grow up. They were only ten.
Speedy was only sixteen…
"He's in surgery," she said. "They couldn't wait."
Raven nodded. "I understand. I'll go have a word with the surgeons' team to see how I can help." She vanished in a swirl of purple shadow.
"I …" Starfire stepped forward because she was The Compassionate One and her alienness gave her leave to get things cutely wrong while everyone else figured out what to say. "I … believe apologies are usually given at this point."
"Say what?"
"I … am sorry this has happened?"
The bottom dropped out of Bumblebee's stomach. She looked away, unable to meet anyone's eyes. "Me too," she muttered.
Green Arrow didn't come. Speedy ordered them not to call him, was fiercely compelling about it, but if it'd been Batman he would've found out anyway. He would've used his freaky connections and come regardless. After Slade took Robin as his apprentice, Batman went to Jump on the pretence he was also looking for that madman, but everyone knew he really just wanted to make sure his ex-sidekick was okay.
But Green Arrow wasn't Batman, and Green Arrow didn't come to Steel City.
She put on the knives with brisk efficiency, like a chef in a swanky Paris restaurant. When she cut him, it was with clean strokes, not botched slashes that bled more than they hurt. She was an expert in causing pain while keeping her victim alive and conscious, so as to best experience it. What was the point in inventing new definitions for 'agony' when he was too unconscious to appreciate them?
"Why the hell are you doing this?" Speedy demanded. "Did someone pay you to make me talk? Am I supposed to rat on the Titans defences, or give you the new communicator codes? Because you can forget it."
She didn't answer.
When he awoke in this stinky little apartment, she was wearing the green robes and cat mask. The frail mugging victim was long gone – along with a lot of his self-respect at falling for her ruse. Although, in his defence, he hadn't expected to be kidnapped by Cheshire when he punched his alarm clock this morning.
"How are you even here? You should be in deep freeze somewhere, under government security."
She grabbed his face in the hand without knives, squeezing his cheeks together. For a moment the painted eyes stared blankly into his, until she pressed the bottom of her mask against his mouth in some weird parody of a kiss.
Then she thrust his own arrow through the back of his hand, between the tendons and bones, pinning it to the chair.
"Damn it!"
Bumblebee entered to find Speedy trying to walk, clutching the rail around his bed as his legs buckled. She buzzed to his side in a flash, propping him up so he didn't fall and smack his head on the floor.
"Get off me, Bumblebitch!" He rudely shoved her away.
Okay, so he didn't fall and smack his big fat head on the floor.
"You shouldn't be trying this so soon. The doctors said -"
"Screw the doctors."
"Your injuries were too severe, even with Raven's help. You need to give yourself time to heal -"
"I don't need time to heal."
"Speedy, don't be an idiot." She tugged his elbow, steering him back to the bed.
"Get. Off," he bit out.
"You're pushing yourself too hard. You need to -"
"I'm just trying to get to the freaking bathroom!" He glared at her with unrestrained disgust. "Is that okay, or do I need your permission to pee?"
She dropped his arm, flummoxed. "Uh…"
"Jeez." He pushed past and hobbled to the little side door that led to his private bathroom. His legs trembled, and she wanted to help him, but something about the way his spine stayed ramrod straight made her stop.
She could see strips of skin through the hospital gown, both too pale and too red, with fading welts where Raven's magic was still taking effect. It'd been too much all at once. Neither his body nor Raven's could cope with that level and potency of magic sustained over a long period. The procedure drained him each time she came back to heal a little more, though he was getting stronger each day. At least he wasn't asleep and drooling this time.
Bumblebee stared around the room while he was gone, taking in the grimly cheerful 'Get Well Soon' cards and vases of flowers. There were at least six, plus all those that had wilted and been thrown away by the nurses. Strictly speaking flowers weren't allowed, since they brought in germs and even the best Steel City medical facility couldn't cope with a superbug outbreak. However, news travelled fast that one of the city's poster boy superheroes was in the hospital and the rules had been bent.
Bumblebee felt out of place, too healthy and useless compared to the doctors, nurses and patients. Including Speedy.
Especially Speedy.
Three weeks and he was still here.
Three weeks and he still refused to talk about exactly what happened.
Three weeks of pressuring authorities, trying to figure out how Cheshire got loose.
Three weeks of trying to understand why – why him? Why had Cheshire come after Speedy? Was it intentional, or would any Titan have sufficed? Could it have been her in this bed, or Aqualad, Mas, or Menos? Why had Cheshire come to Steel City? Why not Jump? Why here, why Bumblebee's team, and why hadn't she known about the breakout before it was too late?
Bumblebee cursed herself for not being able to do more, cursed Cheshire for causing this, and cursed Speedy for what'd happened to him. It was ridiculous, and she knew it hadn't been his fault, any of it, but … but. There was no but. She wanted him to let them help him. She wanted to just make it all go away so they could go back to being the victorious Titans, part of the team who vanquished the Brotherhood of Evil and made the world once again safe for the little guy.
How could they make the world safe for the little guy when they couldn't even keep their own guys safe?
So yeah, she was mad at Speedy, but not at him. It was … complicated.
But then her relationship with him had always been complicated. They were teammates, and would go the mat for each other in a heartbeat – all Titans East would. Some days she thought they were even closer than the original Titans, because the originals didn't have to prove to the world that they weren't just some cheap knock-off. Yet despite gladly jumping in front of bullets, risking their necks and watching each other's backs against the scum of America's Cesspit, she and Speedy still fought like kindergarteners. She was too by-the-book for him and she was too l offhand for her. How could she not get mad at a guy who treated rape victims as gently as newborns, then went home and ogled her own panties in the drier?
He was trying hard to be the same old arrogant, obnoxious, insufferable pretty boy he'd always been.
Bumblebee felt like a small child who'd been given its comfort blanket, only to discover the silky edging had come off.
Her head snapped around as if on a piece of elastic when the door opened, and she kept it there despite the Speedy's glare. Raven had done good work on his face. Only a few thin lines where there should have been scarring.
Well, at least he'd got the pretty boy part right.
Mas and Menos made terrible stalkers. Speedy could hear them jabbering behind the concrete pillar, and twice one shoved the other so he staggered into view. Speedy crept up on cat feet and scared the bejeesus out of them, enjoying the way Mas leapt into his brother's arms at the same time Menos tried to jump into his, so that they both ended up in a heap on the floor.
"Is there some special reason you two are tailing me?"
"Estamos siendo disimulados!"
"Estamos protegiendo los protectors!"
"Say what?" Speedy scratched his head, and then thought better as it mussed his hair. "Do you two just not speak English, or do you choose not to speak it on purpose?"
"Gozamos el hacer de su trabajo de cerebro duro."
"Usted lo dejaría conseguir perezoso si hablamos ingles."
"Whatever. Just buzz off, will you? I'm trying to patrol here and you're scaring away all the bad guys."
"Comprobamos el lado del oeste de la ciudad."
"Todo es reservado."
"Todo está agujereando!"
He'd heard that word before – you couldn't live with two hyperactive ten year olds without learning that 'el agujerear' meant boring. It usually came before they ransacked his trick arrow supplies, his CD collection, his magazines, or all three. He still wasn't sure which pissed him off more.
"If patrol's so boring go back to the Tower. Bumblebitch and Aqualad are on surveillance duty tonight. Either one of them should have plenty of chores for you to do."
Their fearless leader and second in command were equal in their ability to find hard work in the most innocent situation. Aqualad liked the satisfaction of making a difference, which had inspired him to battle the ocean's evildoers and clean up the seas before taking his fight to dry land. Bumblebitch … well, she just hated seeing others have fun doing nothing. There was a reason he gave her that nickname.
Either way, they'd find something for Mas y Menos to do and get them off Speedy's back for the rest of the evening.
"Sigue siendo temprano!" Mas protested, pointing at his watch and the waxing moon.
Speedy ground his teeth. He didn't need this. "Go home. Clean your rooms or something. I don't know. Just leave me alone."
They went into a huddle. Speedy tried to sneak away, but they zipped in front of him.
"Iremos a casa," Menos announced.
"Pero le contamos con detrás antes del 'bedtime', hombre joven," Mas wagged a finger at him.
He swiped at them with his bow, not intending or expecting to make contact. "Buzz off."
"Adios!"
"¡le veremos más adelante!"
"Yeah, yeah." Speedy didn't bother to watch them leave, instead firing off an arrow so he could slide down to the next building. The rooftop there was lower, but gave a good vantage point for the surrounding streets.
Once there it was easy to see the girl being chased into the alley by a guy who would've looked at home under the credit 'Ugly Mugger #3'.
"Hero time," Speedy grinned, glad for the entertainment as he swung to the rescue.
It'd been too quiet around here since they got back from squashing the Brotherhood. All the bad guys were gone, and the petty crooks too scared to come out of hiding. Speedy hated those who preyed on the weak, but he couldn't help but appreciate that tonight's patrol was more exciting than the usual pickpockets and cats stuck in trees.
To Be Continued…
Side-flings, Homages and Downright Rip-offs
Police Chief Wolfman lurved his paperwork and was going to have her wings as a trophy for this.
-- Side-fling to Marv Wolfman, who penned the original New Teen Titans comic on which the cartoon series is based. His Titans book ran from 1980 to 1996, and in it he created characters such as Nightwing (the identity, not the character), Starfire, Raven, Cyborg, Deathstroke (i.e. Slade), Jericho, Trigon, Brother Blood, Terra and Doctor Light. He also created Blade, Black Cat and Bullseye for Marvel Comics, plus his Crisis on Infinite Earths storyline (with Titans artist George Perez) won the 1985 Jack Kirby Award for Best Finite Series, and even in today's cut-throat market is still hailed as one of the best comic series ever written. Not bad for someone who started out as a fanficcer in the 60s.
"I have a bad feeling about this."
-- A line in practically ever Star Wars film. You know when you hear this line that everything is about to turn to shit.
He once spent some time in an army Medical Corps tent, after he and Ollie chased some lowlife to Lebanon. You couldn't take anything for granted in this game.
-- As Batman found out in Death in the Family, wherein he and his then-Robin Jason Todd took a trip to Lebanon to find Jason's erstwhile-thought-dead mother, only for her to sell him out and watch the Joker beat her own son to death with a crowbar. Take nothing for granted indeed.
Perhaps an extra in ER. Yeah. Maybe with that pretty Indian nurse soothing his brow with a damp washcloth…
-- That would be Dr. Neela Rasgotra, Speedy; otherwise known as actress Parminder Kaur Nagra.
She couldn't talk, which was a first for her. She always had plenty to say; loudly, proudly, whether you wanted her to or not.
-- A riff off a similar from Kevin Smith's film Dogma.
"Hero time," Speedy grinned, glad for the entertainment as he swung to the rescue.
-- This bit of dialogue is a side-fling to Batman: Return of the Joker, wherein another teen hero got into serious and life-altering trouble after playing hero alone one night.
I'd be lying if I said looking at a lot of fanart didn't help me to come up with the concept and imagery in this fic. Credit in particular for this chapter goes to gaff1229 . deviantart . com / art / TT - Speedy - in - Trouble - 30732993 and igadevil . deviantart . com / art / Cheshire - Loves - Speedy - 45206845