I decided to make a little connected oneshot story about the Teen Titans' pasts (because there aren't enough of those already…). I like connecting their pasts to one another, just because it's sort of challenging. Some of the connections will be really vague, but some will be quite cleverly incorporated- if I do say so myself (you'll probably disagree, but-meh- we can't all be winners!)
This is my first TT story (so I obviously don't own the show). Let me know what you think!
"It's important to Mommy," she said softly, chuckling a bit at the sour expression on her son's face.
"But it's a girl's present, Mommy! I can't go around wearing jewelry! Eddy'd tease me for weeks, and that's not to mention what Rose would do!" Little Richard pouted.
Natalie chuckled, "Alright, I promise you don't have to wear it as long as you promise you won't ever lose it."
The six-year-old rolled his eyes and mumbled reluctantly, "I promise."
"Promise to keep it forever?" she asked.
He looked up this time, staring right into his mother's face, and, seeing an honest sincerity and earnestness that almost frightened him, he nodded, repeating his words in a reverent whisper.
"Thank you," she said, a smile lighting up her somber expression, "Now, Mommy going out to perform! Wish me luck!" She bent down to peck him on the forehead as he dutifully remained still before making a gagging noise before running off.
He was running to the front row, reserved for the children of the performers, when he ran smack-dab into one of the clowns.
"Sor-" He started to apologize before freezing at the sight of the repulsively ugly clown. It leered at him before loping out of sight. Richard shivered, unable to get the image of the jagged lines along the clowns cheeks to leave his mind.
He sat down in his seat, cheering as the show started, and standing tall as his father performed.
His mother was next, and she began on the thin line Richard had yet to be allowed to try. Her graceful cartwheel was executed flawlessly, but just as she was about to land her feet, the rope jerked violently, throwing her off course mid-jump.
A screech pierced the night air as Natalie Grayson fell from the tightrope. Big Richard, his father, desperately grabbed for her hand, jeopardizing his own balance in the process. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as he managed to wrap his knees around the bar while keeping a firm hold on his wife's feet. The crowd cheered.
In the distance, though, Little Richard was gazing up at his parents fearfully. He knew they were good acrobats, but Little Eddy's dad had been in a similar situation yesterday and he was still in the hospital with a broken jaw and a fractured skull, as well as several complicated medical terms Richard had yet to look up, only picking up on "neck" and "spine."
His fear seemed unwarranted however as his father began to gently swing his mother toward the platform to the excited murmurings of the audience. Big Richard knew the danger was far from over and proceeded with the swings cautiously, much to the relief of his son.
One… two… thr-!
Just as he was about to let go of his wife's hands, a loud crack broke through the tense silence of the tent. Odd, was the thought running through the minds of several of the circus performers, that sounded like the crack of a whip.
Little Richard was the one of two that night to see the luminescent color that marked the presence of most of the clowns in the tent as it faded back through the hole where the tent pole stuck into the night air.
Why would someone climb the tent? The thought entered and exited his mind instantaneously as a far more important image burned into his retinas.
His parents were falling.
Later in his life, he would find out that he had stood still, shocked beyond all comprehension, as chaos erupted around him. The animals had somehow managed to get loose, the ringmasters were in a tizzy attempting to evacuate people in an orderly fashion, or at the least manage not to be trampled themselves, and all the people in the tent were screaming. Richard had eyes only for his parents lying motionless on the hard, unforgiving ground.
Later in his life, he would find out that a madman called the Joker had entered as a clown for the night for the soul purpose of destroying the great Grayson team, merely for his own amusement, or so he would be told, though no one would ever know the true reason. He had used the whip to snap one of the strained ropes holding up his father's bar.
Later in his life, he would always comfort himself with the tiny, inconsequential- yet so significant- jewel his mother had made him promise to keep forever, the small jewel in the shape of a little bird holding the three stones that represented his family: one green, one red, and one yellow. He would always hold to his promise, and he would never forget.
"What's your name, son?" the man all in black asked.
"R-" he paused, unsure if he wanted to answer.
"You can choose a new one if you want to," the man said, holding out a black-gloved hand to the small boy.
Richard looked at the small jewel in his palm, the last relic he had of either of his parent. He studied the pattern for a long moment.
"Robin."
Constructive feedback, please! And please let me know of any typos; my keys are sticking, and it's really bugging me.
Next up: Victor Stone- aka Cyborg.