GROWING YOUNGER
"Oh, but I was so much older, then! I'm younger than that now." Bob Dylan
THE LEADERSHIP TRAP
"I'll be back in five minutes," Robin said to Starfire as he passed through the common room from the gym on his way to his room and a quick shower.
Three minutes later, he was suiting up.
Robin had changed so often into his uniform and so fast, it was just rote by now: boots, belt, gloves, snap the cape.
Done it a million times. Done it since I was eight in rain, in snow, in darkness, in the back seat of a speeding car, in a tossing airplane, in the corner of a shipping container, in the cabin of a speedboat. Done it and done it, and done it. Done it so much that now I feel more at home in the uniform and more like myself in it than in anything else. Why do I ever bother to wear anything else?
He didn't, much.
He stepped out of his room in exactly four and a half minutes, the extra time spent on a little more hair gel, a luxury he now allowed himself. He was hoping for a while alone with Starfire, before the others, particularly the two guys, finished at the gym and started to fill the common room with their noise. Those two would play video games and laugh, argue about who won, eat something, then complain about lights out, but still go to bed or to re-charge.
But, of course, not him, not Robin, he'd be headed out for some wandering around the city.
What else did you do at night? Sleep? What a waste of time—and very over-rated!
So he would hang around the common room for a while, long enough to be friendly, long enough to reassert his leadership, check on things and keep tabs on any developing problems.
Like his wearing the uniform, the other parts of his life had adapted, had metamorphosed to fit his persona. Others might live in the day; he lived at night. Oh, he did things during the day, sure, but his real life began when the sun went away. He had learned to work sleep-deprived from the first, with naps caught in any spare moment. No choice about that. Gradually the daylight even bored him a little, and he had become a creature of night. It was when he came alive; when things happened; when he was free; he laughed to himself,
Feels like I turned into a vampire at eight or nine. I'm pretty sure I didn't, but sometimes it feels like it!
Of course, that was the exact opposite from Starfire, who needed sunlight as fuel. He had to remember her special requirements. Add that to the infinite list of things he had to keep in mind.
Returning to the common room, he sat down beside her, and she smiled at him. Then she leaned into him as she sometimes did now. It felt natural and very good, too. He could feel himself relaxing a little, and quickly he reassured himself,
It's okay to take a few minutes. Just a few, though.
Like anyone, like normal people, (though he was far, far from normal), he assumed without thinking about it that his up bringing was normal.
Consciously, of course, he knew even as a kid that other eight-year olds didn't dodge bullets or swing off of buildings. Others didn't go to school with almost no sleep and be expected to make nothing less than straight A's.
The rules he had learned to live by were straightforward, and he simply accepted them. If he was injured, well, that was how life was. Whining was NOT allowed. You went on, regardless. You worked through pain, exhaustion, frustration and fear which, (even if you felt), you never, never, never expressed in any way.
Wounds were simply part of the work, period. He rarely thought about his scars, and if he did, it was with a bit of shame for he felt that each marked a moment he could have been quicker or he could have been smarter. So he felt he had gotten what he deserved, or probably less than he deserved, since he had survived.
At barely fifteen he was what he thought normal was, and yet he was really like no one else at all.
The gentle pressure of her shoulder against his returned him to the moment. Then, unexpectedly, her thigh touched his.
Wow, that felt like electricity. Does she know what that means? Of course she does, she's sharp. That was no accident.
As if to confirm his idea, Starfire turned towards him with a whisper,
"You are well, Robin?"
"Oh, yes, I am very well," he replied. Even better since that little jolt! And I wouldn't mind another, thank you very much!
"I am so glad; you seem to work all the time, while the others play."
He smiled at her and let his hand sort of fall—nothing really—into hers on the sofa between them.
She looked surprised at his touch, and then he felt his hand being lifted up. She had begun to float, just a few inches off the sofa.
"Happy?" he asked.
"Yes, I cannot completely control it, you know." She pulled herself down using his hand (but not letting go of it) and slipped under his shoulder, with the words,
"This will help."
He could feel some pressure from below pushing up on his shoulder from time to time, but it was not uncomfortable—just a bit like having a small helium balloon under his arm.
Well, it's certainly a different sort of cuddle, but nice, very nice.
Their time was cut short by the noisy entrance of Cyborg and Beastboy squabbling over who got to pick the video game, and both turning to Robin as the final authority.
"Okay, leader, you pick—you."
He sighed inwardly.
When do you two grow up?
But he didn't say it.
He had to keep up the role; he always had to keep up the role.
Even of the other Titans, none had been completely subsumed by a role as he had; all of them were simply themselves, their powers were what they were, their identities the same, and any attempt at average human life was virtually impossible for them anyway.
But for him, it was the complete opposite. He could have walked away at any time and just been a regular person, though it never occurred to him. The others had no choice. He did, but had never considered it. He worked so long and so hard at living his superhero role that there was almost no—
What's my real name again? Sure I remember, but it almost doesn't matter, mostly I'm Robin.
His myth, his act, his daily reality.
And then, of course, there was the responsibility.
How did I become the leader of a group any one of whom could break me in pieces? I am the leader, for heaven's sake. The leader, and not a power of any kind to my name!
He had to make the plans. He had to make the choices, devise the strategies, and give the orders. All the while knowing he was the weakest and the most vulnerable of the group.
"You know," he said in a low voice to Starfire, under the shouting as the other two argued over who got which character in the game, "there's a story about lion tamers."
"Tell me this story, Robin, for I have seen these shows." She looked eagerly up at him.
"Well, the trick is never to let the lions know that you aren't the biggest and strongest lion in the rink. If they ever figure out that you are just a little guy with a noise maker as a prop, you're toast!"
"Toast?"
"Just an expression for: you're going to be attacked and maybe killed."
She glanced over at the other two and then at Raven brooding a bit in the corner.
"Ah, and you feel you are that lion tamer?"
He smiled,
"I just have to keep them convinced I'm the toughest, that's all."
"That should be easy; you are."
"No, sweetie, I just have a good act and a very loud noise maker."
And he quietly got in another quick hug before he hoped the others would notice.
And all the while, Robin was trying to keep his own team together, he also knew that the other superheroes of the world, were looking over his shoulder and expecting him to make some major mistake.
Not that they want me to fail, I'm certain of that. At the same time, I know that there is very little room for mistakes. A major failure could and probably would result in the Titans being forced to shut down. And who would be responsible for that? Who else?
He walked everyday under that shadow.
When he worked with Batman, he was allowed mistakes; not many, of course.
I caught hell for even the smallest one, but I had the excuse of being younger, of being the sidekick. Now,there are no excuses at all. If I'm going to do this thing, it has to be done right! Everything better be perfect, and if it isn't, well, guess who has to face the injured person or maybe even the dead body?
And then, too, he really was young. Oh, he never thought about that at all. He took it for granted that he was thirty, even if he wasn't more than half that. He had to act like he was, and he acted it so well and for so long that he had forgotten by now he wasn't.
Copying his mentor perfectly, he never cut himself any slack, not for youth, not for inexperience, not for the mistakes of his teammates, not for his lack of superpowers.
Of course, it made for a great leader. (Even if a sometimes grumpy one. ) The others could never say he asked them to do something he wouldn't do himself, nor could they ever feel he was harder on them than he was on himself—that would have been impossible!
He expected himself to do it all without any of their special gifts. Indeed, perhaps it was simply his relentless drive that made the team a success.
He had stopped being a child at eight, without even realizing it.
But now, he was not only leader, he was the authority figure, parent and father to a group of misfits without even the slightest right to be a teenager himself. He had to enforce the rules, from bedtime to practice sessions.
And he had to do it with a group he really wanted to be friends with, at the same time he actually had to act as the ultimate authority.
On top of all that, each member of the group had different issues, anyway, and all were teenagers themselves! The truth was, he had set himself an impossible challenge—beyond the powers of anyone! The miracle was that he had done it and kept doing it.
ALIEN: FIRST SIGN
Of all the team, Starfire was really the easiest for him to manage. She obeyed him without question, with none of the challenges he got from Beastboy or Cyborg. Also she was relentlessly cheerful, unlike Raven, who demanded careful handling because of the darkness he felt, rather than knew, she held at bay.
Still, the others were human, or partly human, like him; Starfire was not, and occasionally, just occasionally, he would think, in his analytical way,
She is alien. So what is there that I don't know about her—there must be a lot of things, of course, but what do I not know that is important—that could one day affect the team? And when will I find it out-in some crisis when it could even be lethal?
Other more immediate concerns would come up, and since even he couldn't keep everything on the front burner, he would forget that particular worry.
Anyway, she is so sweet, so kind, so happy. What's to worry about?
Then one day, he began to find out what alien meant; and it wasn't cute, like enjoying mustard or wanting to celebrate weird holidays.
He was sitting in the common room, watching a movie and just twisting his foot back and forward. Starfire was at his side, while Robin's arm casually draped over the back of the sofa.
Maybe, maybe I'll just drop it down and get in a little snuggle. No one will even notice.
She liked to be close and he thought it was pretty good too, when he noticed her looking at his foot, and then he noticed that she was looking very intently at his foot, and then he noticed that her eyes were following every move, and then—then he started to feel really uncomfortable, though he wasn't sure why; just that old pickling on the back of his neck he knew from years of experience he better listen to, and:
HER PUPILS WERE DIALATED AND HER HEAD WAS MOVING JUST A LITTLE, BUT SHE WAS VERY STILL, TENSED AGAINST HIS BODY AND he felt, somehow, that he better hold that foot really, really still—and he did.
It took a few minutes, longer than he expected, before she looked back at the television screen and relaxed against him. Moments later they were joking about some silly car chase on the screen, and all was fine. But—but—he didn't forget.
ALIEN: SECOND SIGN
Just to confuse things more, he had begun to notice how much he really did like her. She followed him around some when he was just doing computer work or repairs to his R cycle; little touches were wonderful. Just a look, just an accidental brush, was so—well-amazing.
And she was beautiful—
Of course, I'm don't really notice that! I am noticing how strong and muscular she is. I'm calculating how effective she can be in battle. I'm not looking at her lean waist or at those long legs that seem to go on forever. Absolutely not!
He knew he was merely assessing her abilities as he should and wondering if the two-thousand pound weights she was lifting were actually heavy enough to improve her strength.
For that matter, is she enough like a human to improve with exercise?
He realized a good leader must not make assumptions, so he asked,
"Starfire, I don't know, so I have to ask. I know your strength comes from the sun, that you are solar powered."
"Yes, Robin."
"Well, can you, do you improve with practice?"
"I do not understand the question exactly. Anyone improves with practice in almost any activity, do they not?"
"Yes, yes, but what I am asking is a little different. Humans build muscle with activity. So if I lift heavier weights, for instance, I become able to lift heavier weights more easily over time. Does that work for you?"
"Oh, I understand. Yes, some, but I think not as much as humans can. My strength improves when I get more sunlight and as well as when I am happy. So although I like to train with the others, and especially with you, it is not so necessary for me. It is almost as good for me to sit in the sun and look at," she looked at him, and hesitated, "at what makes me happy."
He wondered what made her happy, for about two seconds, then knew exactly what she had not said, and felt happy himself.
"Okay, I understand. And I like to train with you, too."
That afternoon, they were in the gym, doing a little sparring together.
She had already explained, long ago, he remembered her words,
"I will practice the sparring with you, but I will not use my full strength. Perhaps this restraint is offensive to you, I do not know, but it is not meant to be. I simply do not wish to hurt you in any way."
"I understand, Star, and thank you," he said, as politely as possible, "I appreciate that."
He really wasn't sure what the rules were exactly. Perhaps she was making a great gesture of consideration, or perhaps she was just stating facts, he didn't know.
And they could practice fighting, if he rolled with her jabs, never allowing them to connect. If he re-directed or deflected every blow, they could enjoy it. She never flew, of course, so if he flipped away, she stayed flat on the ground allowing him the advantage. Even if he urged her to be more aggressive, she never really did, though she would sometimes pretend to.
But a lifetime of fights can't be wrong; he knew she was not using even half, even a quarter of her strength.
"Come on, Star, come on, try to hit me," he urged.
She nodded and lunged at him, almost caught his ankle as he sprung away. But then she stopped, stared at him for a moment. Her face simply collapsed as she turned and rushed out the door.
He had to race down the corridor to grab her just before she flew out the window,
"Hey, hey, what's wrong, Star? Are you okay?"
She was shaking a little and was she? Crying? Tears?
He had his hands on her shoulders, but slipped his arms around her, almost before he knew it, certainly before he thought about his leadership role or much of anything else. She was bothered—
Have I pushed her too far, somehow, asking her to try to hit me? Okay, she does cry. I knew that, but it is something that really feels human and normal, so it's reassuring in a way.
But to her he said,
"Come on, tell me. You can tell me."
"Oh, Robin, when I saw—I was afraid." She was even trembling a little in his arms.
"It's okay, just tell me and we'll fix it. That's my job, to make things right."
"You must fix this—you are very accomplished."
"Well, I'll try, I promise you that."
"Your skeleton— flaws, weak spots. Just calcium! " She was almost sobbing, "Very dangerous. You must add something strong to it. I will be much happier when you have metal or unbreakable ceramic covering your brain and the back of your neck."
Even Robin had stop for a minute.
What on earth—maybe that was the wrong phrase—no, definitely that was the wrong phrase! Whatever this problem is, it has absolutely nothing to do with earth!
But as always, analysis was his default mode,
"What do you mean you saw my skeleton?"
"In the sparring, I could see it, of course, naturally."
"No, Star, I honestly want to know what you mean."
"I had told you already. What is there to question?"
He knew these questions were not communicating at all, so he tried the best of all ways to talk with her, her emotions,
"Star, you know I really like you."
"You are my dearest friend, Robin." She twisted around in his arms and very, very lightly pressed her head but with no weight at all just barely touching on his shoulder, though she had to bend a little to do it.
"Then you know I am not asking this to be a problem for you. I honestly don't know what it is you are talking about."
She looked surprised and asked,
"You do know you have bones—is that the right word?"
"Yes, I know that."
"Well, then, what else do you question?"
"Star, I think you are talking about something that I can't see."
"Robin, don't be silly. This is important. You must put protection in your skeleton—it frightens me. You are—you are very—valuable, and it would take me only one bite here," she put her hand gently at the nape of his neck, "to paralyze you and then perhaps one more, perhaps not even one more, to kill you."
He stiffened, shivered, and his heart started to pound, as he realized what the lovely, sweet, beautiful girl in his arms had just said. She almost nuzzled her head into his shoulder, but quickly drew back as if she had forgotten for an instant how fragile he was.
"Ah, my dear Robin, so you have heard me—I can feel your heart beat faster and I am so glad, so happy, now you see the danger. Perhaps you had just not thought of it with your many duties. There are other places, too, but here," she touched his neck again very tenderly, sending another shiver up his spine, "this is the first that you must tend. It is so dangerous!"
She slowly and carefully picked them up in her happiness and floated a few feet from the floor.
"I am so glad—so glad now—for you will be safer, and that is all I wish for, Robin."
SWINGIN' ON A STAR?
Mixed—even for him—love, and then—what? —something else.
Oh, he was loved, but what the hell was it that loved him?
It looked human, sort of; it felt delightfully human; it had hugged him, had touched him, had snuggled against him and yet, and yet—it wasn't human.
It felt not just human but beautiful, like the loveliest, sweetest most tenderhearted of girls.
It/she had a funny quirky way, was fiercely loyal to him, completely devoted, never forced anything on him, floated with happiness when he came near and yet, and yet, and yet—
It would take her only one bite, she said, —one bite to paralyze and kill him! She wasn't joking; she meant it, and he knew it. And he could not remember her hand on the back of his neck without a shiver.
He had, he feared, just found out which lion was the biggest, even if it licked him, fawned on him, followed him like a kitten and seemed to want nothing more than to protect and adore him. He remembered the limerick about the young lady who smiled as she rode on the back of the tiger. He had absolutely no desire to return from the ride inside with the smile of the face of the tiger.
But she's even more beautiful than regular humans. She has the body of a goddess with that beautiful golden skin and those huge green eyes and that tumbled red hair, and that happy disposition.
Was it completely selfish of him to think that finally super strength and flight, the two qualities he had most envied in his friends, could also be completely at his disposal?
And for once, for once, I'm not alone. Maybe, maybe I have been gifted, in the craziest of ways, with that unconditional love everyone seeks.
Starfire truly loved him; he was coming to believe. Her constant attentions, her little moments of joy when he came in a room, her immediate response to any danger she thought might approach him, and though she was always quick to take his orders, still she turned towards him in any fight, to see if he needed help or if she had done what pleased him.
Frankly, it was intoxicating. And so, over the next five days, he found himself living on a heady mixture of incredible attraction, fantasy about their future, and wonderment at his good fortune, but spiced with a heavy dose of fear, which, when he acknowledged it to himself, made him feel guilty both for the fear and for not trusting her.
It's not, he said to himself, one day, sitting on his bed, and putting on boots yet again, not that she isn't great, or even sexy, and it's not that I haven't been around meta-humans and aliens before. Good grief, I grew up with all that. And except for having to be careful around Kal— just a little— he never intended to hurt anyone, of course. He's really a good friend,but once or twice he put a friendly hand on my shoulder, and I felt my knees buckle. Of course, he took it off right away and apologized. But, that's not the same as getting really involved. That's not the same as being—boyfriend and girlfriend—that means close up—really, really close up and—that's scary—that's scary even with a regular girl! But with her! Even the best lion tamers don't climb in bed with the lions! Especially after just telling the biggest lion that I don't have anything but an attitude! Not my brightest moment.
But he was Robin, always Robin, and that meant he had to keep trying, keep understanding, so he chose a quiet moment on the rooftop, to ask again. He took her hand, almost amazed at his own bravery, but then told himself,
This is not at all about being attracted to her. No, it is the best way for a leader to get important information from her.
Hetook a deep breath and began,
"Star, I've been thinking about the other day, when we were training, and you got upset. You remember?"
"Of course, I remember. It was frightening."
"Well, could you tell me a little more? I mean, why did it happen then? We've sparred before."
"Before I was always holding back, but when you told me to try, then since you are battle leader and I want to obey you, I did not."
"When you grabbed at me, you weren't holding back, is that what you mean?"
"Yes, so naturally, I saw you."
"But what did you see? That's what I don't understand. You saw me through the whole session, didn't you?"
"Perhaps I am not using the right word, but I cannot think of how it is said on earth. Strange, there seems to be no word in any earth language I have learned that exactly fits. You know that when attack, real attack happens, there is that moment of seeing. No, that is still not the right word."
"I know it must be hard to explain; I'm sorry."
"The weaknesses, how to hurt and how to kill. I became so frightened for you." She was looking at him with wide green eyes, and seemed very sad and very serious at the same time.
He suddenly wanted to hold her close and he did, though he noticed that her arms went around his waist without really touching him at all.
But he was still Robin, always.
I have to know; I must, even if I don't want to.
So as softly as possible, he asked,
"Did you think you might hurt or kill me?"
"No, never, never—never. I would fly into the sun first! No, I knew you were not so strong as I am, but I did not know how bad it was until then! When I saw how easily-how deficient your body- is—not protected."
"Okay, I think what you are saying—tell me if I'm right—is that when you really fight, for real, no play, no holding back, you have a moment, a time—when you know how to hurt, how to kill and so you can see inside the opponent-—the bones, the blood vessels, any weaknesses."
"Yes. Of course."
Now, now what? I know a little more, not all, certainly, but more, and I've got her in my arms. She says, (Oh, he didn't miss that!), she would kill herself before she would hurt me."
He had buried his face in her hair by now and was breathing in her warm, wonderful scent like fresh sweet fruit.
That makes it a little safer. And she's the most loving, happy, cheerful person. She's beautiful, and she adores me.
He had left the moment and was off in a delightful fantasy of the two of them on a desert island with lots of time and, somewhat improbably, a very comfortable sofa on the beach.
His thoughts were interrupted by Starfire.
"Robin, may I ask you a question, now? It is about a thing humans seem to avoid, and perhaps it is impolite, but I feel I can ask you."
He was immediately nervous.
Oh, no, she's going to ask me something about sex, of course! But what can I say, besides:
"Sure."
"You are nervous, I can feel it, so I will not ask."
"No, Star, go ahead, I'm your—friend—you can ask me anything."
"How long do humans live?"
He tried not to breath an audible sigh of relief.
"Oh, well, average life span is about seventy or eighty, but sometimes people live into their nineties."
"You mean earth solar cycles?"
"Yes, earth years."
"That is unfortunate, but I understand. No wonder that it is avoided. I have seen articles written about those number of years, but I was not sure it was really true."
"Is it different for you, for your people?"
She pulled him towards her, but so carefully.
Will she ever touch me again without treating me as if my body were made of very, very fine thin glass? Well, maybe. Right now she must be feeling like she has fallen in love with a Christmas ornament!
"It can be—if there is—strong attachment—to life or to something—or-"
She lifted her lovely face to him, stared into his eyes with her green slightly glowing eyes.
"Or?" he asked, and he didn't move away.
"Or someone."
And suddenly, the grave, serious leader role fell away from him like a rotten shroud, and he felt himself the laughing daredevil he had been when he began this life; when he had played prankster to Batman's darkness; when he would take the leap that was far too dangerous and make it; when he would make a bad pun to draw the fire, dodge the resulting hail of bullets and allow Batman the clean take-down; when he could say silly, campy things and join in the laughter.
He laughed at himself.
How had he become so serious?
A moment of knowing, of seeing. No, not his skeleton. Though it did involve mortality.
I have one chance to live this life, and I better do it now!
He kept holding her, allowed himself to just sink into those green eyes, and stretched up a little toward those lips, but enough of experience remained to ask first, before leaping literally into space,
"Do you mind if I kiss you, Star?'
"Oh, no, no. I know it is a sign of closeness, and I have only one wish."
"What do you want, my Star, my starry, starry light?" he asked as he threaded his fingers through those tendrils of red hair falling about her face.
He felt ready to swing through the universe and snatch the sun, moon and more stars for her if she wanted them.
"To be closer to you, always. I am living for you, now."
He felt his eyes stinging a little, as he leaned into her and placed his lips on hers. She was even very careful of his kiss; as if he were so delicate she could barely touch him.
But that's fine and safer for now, anyway. Soon she'll learn, just as she's already learned so much and so quickly. Teaching her will even be fun! Maybe lots and lots of fun! I may even get to crack the whip a little, and she'll play along, knowing it's all an act anyway.
And he realized, with shocking clarity that he had just embarked on the biggest, most dangerous challenge of his life, a challenge that would take all of his skill, all of his courage, all of his heart!
Again making a dangerous daredevil leap with a silly pun on my lips!
Oh the joy of life!
And since he knew, deep within, that one day he would fall, anyway—well, now he had someone who could fly to catch him!