"It is easier for a father to have children, than for children to have a real father."-Pope John XXIII

A Hero's Father

Father's day, like its opposite, Mother's Day, was a sort of taboo thing for the Teen Titans. It wasn't necessarily that they hated holidays like this; after all, who were they to take away someone else's joy? It was simply that all of them had tricky parental situations, and never really liked to dwell on all of that pain and remorse.

Still, whenever the holiday came around, for it always did, each Titan had their own way of...dealing with it.

~#~#~#~

When the week of Father's Day approached, Robin was packing up his bags and loading up his motorcycle, off for Gotham with a few days to spare. It was a long trip, one he made in a few days nonstop, but it was a trip he made at least twice a year.

His first stop was a flower shop.

He slipped into his faded civilian clothes and stepped into the same flower shop he went to every year, buying his usual vase of summertime flowers and heading out to the graveyard at the outskirts of the city. The graveyard was in a small churchyard at a quaint little church, and from there, Robin wandered the well beaten path until her found a set of gravestones under the shade of a nearby tree.

Here lies Jon Grayson; a loving father and caring husband.

It was a simple message, one Robin often pondered over each time he read it. It seemed so silly that a person's whole life could be summed up into such a...generic phrase. And yet this was the message scrawled across both of his parents' gravestones, albeit tailored slightly for each. With a heavy sigh, Robin gently laid the vase down beside the stone. He stared long and hard at the graves for a moment, before sighing again.

"...hey Dad."

The sun drifted back towards the earth while Robin stood there, speaking in quiet, gentle tones. He paid little heed to any passersby, his sole attention focused on the two people he loved and missed with every fiber of his being. As the last of the sun's rays began winking out of existence, Robin left the cemetery, ducking into an alley to don his cape and mask. Just like that, Richard Grayson was gone once again, and the Boy Wonder had returned.

His gloved hand snatched up a bird-a-rang, and with the push of a button, the hooked ends of the weapon shot up into the sky, snagging onto a building and pulling him up. The wind ruffled his hair as Robin ran from rooftop to rooftop, a slight exhilaration brewing inside of him.

Gotham was bathed in city lights, glittering under the night sky. It was a breathtaking sight, one he'd always hold near and dear. Though he never visited often, he still knew his way around the city like the back of his hand, and before long he was once again atop the ever famous building that contained the bat signal's lamp, face-to-face with the caped crusader himself.

They didn't talk, at least, not about their personal lives. Instead, what little conversation flowed between them was of Batman's current case, and Robin quickly fell into step beside him, as if he'd never left. For the first night in three-hundred and sixty five days, Batman had his Robin, and the two patrolled the streets just like old times.

This was a more recent venture Robin had started, having dropped by the year prior in the same manner. He'd finally realized that, although the old bat often pissed him off to no end, he still loved him like a father. No, Bruce was not his dad, and could certainly never replace him, he was still the next best thing.

And that was good enough.

~#~#~#~

Starfire was new to the whole 'Father's Day' thing. On Tamaran, there was no equivalent to the earthen holiday, but she had still been incredibly fascinated by the tradition. She had first learned of it from Cyborg the first year the Titans had formed, when Robin had disappeared for nearly a week.

Ever since, she'd found her own way to celebrate, by baking a feast of traditional Tamaranean dishes and singing along to some of her planet's folk songs. Of course, no one seemed to wish to eat her scrumptious dishes, but Starfire imagined that it was due to her friends' great sadness they all experienced on this day. She was well familiar with humans' tendency to forgo food when saddened by something, so she often shared the feast with Silkie and stored the rest as leftovers.

Then, she'd go flying. Flying always made her feel closer to her home planet, and although she loved earth, she still sometimes missed Tamaran. Especially on days like this, where memories of her now parted parents drifted across her mind. Of course, she still had her K'norfka, Galfore, and in recent years the young alien princess had gotten into the habit of sending her beloved guardian gifts. They were sent weeks in advance of course, Cyborg had been most wonderful at figuring out when to send her gifts so they would arrive on the appropriate date.

Yes, Father's Day was a most agreeable holiday in Starfire's mind; it allowed her to take a moment to remember the good times, something Starfire loved to do.

~#~#~#~

Father's Day sucked. Cyborg hated the holiday. It was a painful reminder of who he was and why he was that way. Sure, he was slowly beginning to be comfortable with who he was, but he still had not forgiven his father.

He cursed as his wrench clattered uselessly onto the floor. It was a bit of a stretch to reach it, but within seconds his robotic fingers had snatched the metal tool up and he was back to work on his car. Working on the T-car was always Cyborg's way of dealing with stress, stupid holidays like today included. It wasn't like there was anything else to do; Robin was in Gotham and crime was at an all time low. It seemed to happen on holidays like today, as though the criminals themselves had decided to celebrate.

Dumbass criminals.

Cyborg continued his internal grumblings as he toiled on beneath and around the T-car. Every speck of dust was swiped clean, every inch of the engine inspected, every tire bolt tightened. She was an image of perfection, as always. Usually, Cyborg would stand back and admire his work, but today he cursed the universe for allowing him to have nothing to do.

The cybernetic teen set about cleaning the garage; scrubbing the shelves, sweeping the floor, organizing his tools yet again, and wiping the lenses of the security cameras. He decided today was as good as any to test the security systems in the tower. After all, he needed anything, anything to distract him from that inevitable phone call.

It was always the same. Always a lame excuse, a stupid apology. There would be questions about how he was doing, and if he wanted to meet up sometime, and how totally proud of him he was.

Cyborg never answered the phone. And he always deleted the message.

Maybe one day he'd pick up. Maybe one day he'd be able to forgive and move on, but right now the pain was still too great. His father had a lot of hurt to make up for, and Cyborg wasn't about to just let it go for the sake of some dumb holiday.

And yet, despite the angry bravado, he always found himself staring up at the ceiling in his room at night, and he always whispered, "Happy Father's Day, Dad."

~#~#~#~

Some days, meditation was easy to come by. Like today. There were no drills, no alerts, and best of all, no teammates to annoy her. Raven knew why of course; it was Father's Day. The stupid, accursed earthen holiday to celebrate fatherhood. She could understand the idea behind the tradition, but for those like Raven with fathers that weren't so worthy of such a title, the day was a bore.

Sure, sometimes she felt a little left out. But Raven was used to such emotions, having been 'left out' of a lot of things growing up. It was normal. Typical. An average day in the life of Raven. Still, she occasionally felt a tinge of sadness of days such as this. She had never known what it was like to have a father figure, and the closest parent figure she had was Azar.

"Azarath, Mentrion, Zinthos."

She knew the others pretty much shared her sentiment for the holiday. Or, at least, they didn't particularly enjoy it. After all, every single person on the team had some sort of complication with their family life, whether from death, fallout, or having a demonic entity as a father. It was one thing they all had in common.

With another deep breath, Raven quietly exuded a calming emotion over the tower, something she always did on days like this. Even though Raven herself could care less about today, she knew her friends could use a little bit of peace and tranquility.

As she continued with her meditation, she subconsciously reached out to her door with her powers, checking to see if it was unlocked. Satisfied, she receded further into herself and focused on her own inner peace, humming her usual incantation quietly to herself.

~#~#~#~

A few weeks before both Father's Day and Mothers' Day, Beast Boy could be found drawing. He was always in some random secluded corner, scratching away at his sketchbook with a pencil. He hid in the rafters, in storage rooms, in his own closet, on the roof, and even out at his rock. It wasn't that Beast Boy was actively avoiding his friends, he just needed the peace and quiet for concentration.

The sketches would take maybe a day or two depending on whether or not he colored them, and then the shapeshifter would disappear into town to the post office, where he'd mail the drawings out. He did this, every year without fail.

It was the least he could do, after all.

At first, he had no idea if the handmade cards were getting to their intended destination. Beast Boy wasn't really sure he wanted to know, at least in Mento's case, but he continued to send them anyway. Then of course, after fighting the Brotherhood of Evil and reconnecting with the Doom Patrol, he got letters back. Mostly as thank you's, though Rita always sent a long letter asking how things were.

Mento, however, just sent back a stiff 'thanks' sort of letter, but Beast Boy knew he appreciated the sentiment. Plus, it was one way to distract himself from what was to come; the heart wrenching memories of his biological parents, followed by the nightmares of watching them fall to their deaths. Sure, he had those nightmares every once in a while outside of Father's Day or Mother's Day, but on these two days they came without fail.

Beast Boy's fingers brushed the ancient journal he held with great care. It was the only tangible thing he had left, given to him by Rita not long after they'd learned of Beast Boy's history. How she'd gotten it, he never knew. It was a beautiful gift nonetheless, and every year at this time Beast Boy found himself reading it.

The journal was written in both Swahili and English, filled to the brim with a wealth of scientific data and observations from both his father and mother. There were even hints of knowledge of the serum that saved him enclosed within the worn leather cover. It was a treasure he kept close to his heart, something he'd let no one else see. He read the journal until the sun disappeared under the sea, and slipped it into a safe place.

Ever so cautiously, the changeling made his way to Raven's door. With a quiet knock, it slid open and he stepped inside.

He wasn't sure when he started sleeping in her room, but at least twice a year he found himself slipping under her covers and allowing her to chase the darkness away. He vaguely remembered a time when the nightmare was so vivid, so real, that he woke up screaming with tears burning on his face. Before anyone else could make it to his door, Raven's soul self had arisen from his floor and swooped him through the wall and inter her room. There he stayed, while she had wiped the tears and murmured softly to him while he drifted back to sleep.

Wordlessly, Beast Boy settled beside her, fidgeting with the blanket. Her pale hand appeared in his line of sight, gently draping over his own. Not once did they speak, instead they shared a silent understanding, basking in the comfort of each other's company.

Yes, Father's Day made him sad, but Beast Boy was glad things ended up the way they did. He would never have become a Titan otherwise, and he loved every second of it, sadness and all. After all, life was what he made of it, and Beast Boy was certain that his life was the best.

Author's Note:

Well it's late, but here's a little something for Father's Day. Enjoy!

Thanks for the support!

-vixensheart