Disclamer: Still don't own anything except Ryce…The rest are still copyrighted to DC and to the authors of the Legendsverse. Sorry I take a year and a day to type things. Just realize its been exactly 3 months...which is weird...and completely unintentional.
In life the roles we play are not always easy. You don't always get to be the star of the show nor do you always get the credit which you deserve. In fact, more often than not, you may perceive that you are never on the receiving end for the recognition of all you do. No one ever applauds those who keep the show running behind the scenes. Dave Stathis understood this concept well…and as a much younger man may have rallied against the injustice of it. However, these days he simply resigned himself to the aforementioned fact, and instead of fighting made himself a sandwich at 3 in the morning.
Dave Stathis a Captain of the Jump City Police Department had joined the force with the over eager enthusiasm of a young puppy. Through the years he had worked his way up, keeping his shoulder up against the stone and his feet steady on the ground as he had in every other aspect of his life. Trying his damndest to not allow the job to jade his realistic but non-cynical views of life. Such a level headed mentality and hard work ethic had never failed to serve him in the past so when he started moving upwards he saw no reason to change it. Even when he found himself pulling the weight of others and doing the jobs of those too lazy to do it themselves, he kept at it. After all, it had gotten him a job…a beautiful wife…two once angelic little girls…a three bedroom ranch house with fenced-in yard…his work ethic had gotten him the American dream.
Dreams end though. We wake up. We wake up and all the pleasantries and rosy words are devoured by the disease that is reality. Devoured just as quickly and mercilessly as his beautiful wife's body had been by that tiny little lump that doctors had reassured her to probably be "nothing too serious." But soon the tiny lump became a slightly larger but still small imperfection and "nothing too serious" had become "we still don't think it's anything serious but let's run some tests…" So it was only a matter of time that even that became replaced by "We are sorry but…" Hard work meant nothing this time. And soon Dave Stathis was left alone with two small girls. He kept his head for them…kept the resentment at life in check and his shoulder against the stone.
Standing in front of the sterile cool glow of his refrigerator light bulb Dave gave a sigh. If only the favor were ever returned. A glance at his elder daughter's closed door and a scratch to his pajama pant clad thigh, his eyes narrowing at the dull barely there slip of light beneath the door. Probably chatting online again…he caught her talking to this guy on there the other week…claimed to be a 14 year old boy from a school system across town…Qrtbck230 was his moniker. He could be as he said Stathis supposed…he could also be some 45 year old guy luring unsuspecting little girls down to the park. This assessment of course earned him nothing more than a rash of nasty looks and screams about "ruining her life."
Thirteen years old and nothing but an protective father to guide her, he was not quite surprised by the fact that the girl spent most of her time doing the exact opposite of everything he said… but it was the way her face twisted into that god damned smirk that knocked him for a loop. Dave tried so hard to not allow himself to actually dislike his own child…but day by day it was growing all the more difficult. He loved her unconditionally that was unquestionable.
But somewhere along the way, sometime after his beloved Judy had wasted away, this sweet innocent child that once rode on his shoulders wearing mouse ears and a grin had become an inconceivably bitter and defiant brat. His Becky (Just the other day, a venom filled snap "It's Re-Beck-Ca! Are you really this stupid?! Gawd!") had faded into this? Shaking his head he leaned into the cool brightness of his fridge, not wanting to dwell upon it anymore. At least he still had…
The caterwauling shriek seemed to rise up from the very earth beneath their home's cracking foundation. Flesh creeping and eyes wide, the officer attempted to straighten, bashing the back of his head on the fridge shelf above it. A curse of pain and surprise as milk tilted, splashing its contents unto the bread to make a soggy mess. Eggs went flying to the floor to shatter in intricate yellow flowers. Nearly slipping into the mess he had created Dave sprinted out of formerly still and clean kitchen into the dark hallway. He did not know exactly what he expected to find nor why his entire body seemed to scream instinctually that this cry seemed so much more than that of simple nightmare. All at once…the air felt electric and his eyes were hot in his skull, a feeling he knew from years of plunging into chaos and danger unknown. Every hair on his neck standing, he ripped open the door at the end of the hall plunging into its yawning mouth like a mad man. The open window sucked the door nearly shut behind him and he tripped into the black, his five year old Darcy still screaming in unrepentant terror.
"Darcy!? Darcy's what's wrong!?"
Eyes tried to adjust, tried to make sense of the melding shadows cast by dolls and toys around the room. Confusion lapsed his mind as he tried to feel for frilly edge of the child's bed, hadn't he plugged that damn night light in when he tucked her in 5 hours ago? That green superhero she was so damn crazed about…Beat Boy or something stupid like that...as it stood he could use it right now the light from the hall barely granting him any headway. In the dark his hand brushed something sharp and a small curse fell from his mouth. Before he could gather a guess as to what he had pierced his hand on, the little girl somewhere above his head sobbed from her mound of blankets something finally somewhat intelligible.
"Cuh-Cuh-clos-clos…"
Closet?
"Darcy…"
"Monster Daddy!! Monster!"
Eyes still unused to the dark reactively darted towards the general direction of the child's closet, his tone already growing weary, "Darcy...honey…there is no…"
For moment his voice seemed to catch. His pupils were adjusting and the shadows splayed across her bedroom wall seemed to take a more definite shape. Demonic and large it swallowed the pink bunnies his wife had years ago painted by hand. His eyes widened in the dark and followed the trail of that shadow to its source above his head. Perched atop the closet door was a splotch of solid darkness not shadow but surely flesh, two pin pricks of mismatched blue light glinted back down at him, cat like and strange. His skin seemed to tighten over his body, as this thing whose shadow did not match its body stared with a sort of bored detachment down at the man and child. I am not seeing this his mind hissed trying desperately to find reason for this hallucination…I am not seeing this and those sounds coming out of it that actually hurt to hear were not really there. Then it smiled…it had fangs.
"What are you doing?"
A scream ripped its way out from both the father and daughter as light spilled into the room from the hallway. Dave twisted around to find himself now under the gaze of Becky (Re-Beck-Ca to stupid old men who didn't listen) who stared at both her father and sister with the kind of vicious annoyance that only girls after the age of eleven seem capable of. Open and shut, Dave felt his mouth bobble, like a particularly dim goldfish.
"Buh- Buh-Becca…dere…dere's"
"Spit it out Darcy!"
"Monster!!!"
A fresh round of sobs and tears began and Dave's eyes darted back to the closet where a beam of hallway light had fallen. Searching for the cat like orbs that a moment ago glared with hellish intensity.
Nothing.
Becky had walked from the doorway into the room now, in the back of his mind he could hear her snapping at the younger girl for being a big stupid baby. That there were no such things as monsters and how the hell was she supposed to get any sleep around here with this racket (sleep my ass some distant voice snapped in his head). A headache threatened to overtake the man and a hand reached up to pinch tightly at the bridge of his nose. By now Darcy was yelling back angry and indignant at being called a liar and a baby. Wet fingers slid across his face and he pulled them away surprised to find blood smeared across his skin.
"Ewww! Daddy's bleeeeeeeeding!"
Dave glanced up to see both girls pulled away from their squabbling long enough to notice the deep cuts tracing across several of his finger tips. To see a red streak of it marking his face. For one brief and shining moment concern flashed over Becky's face and Dave was sure he could see that little girl in mouse ears lurking somewhere behind it. But soon enough it was swallowed up in contempt, a slim hand reaching out and harshly shoving the smaller girl on the bed.
"Good going you nitwit…you went and broke your stupid baby light and dad cut his hand on it!"
Little eyes darted downwards and followed her father's and sister's gaze which came to rest on the shattered glass inches from the man's hand. A green face pulled back into a cartoony happy grin was cracked right in two, a purple and black clad leg the only other discernable thing amongst the purple, black, and green glass shards. Shaking her head from side to side violently as more tears streaked down her face the child said, "Nuh-uh! Da monster did it! It came in through da window and broke Beastboy daddy! It said shhhhh and broke Beastboy into a million bajillion pieces!"
"This is so friggen' stupid!"
Before the girls could dissolve into a quarrel again, before their father could scold the older one for her language, the door into the hallway slammed shut pitching the room back into black. A terrified squeal from one girl and a harried snap from the other, "It's the wind you dolt!" With a sigh Dave stood, careful to not wipe his bloodied fingers on his pajamas, an unmarred hand grappling against the wall for a switch. Bright light flooded the room, once again ending any fighting between the two sisters. From her tangle of bed sheets Darcy blinked up at him eyes red and swollen from tears, an arm showing just the slightest sign of fleeting baby fat clutched tightly around the neck of a doll of the same green person shattered amongst the floor.
Beastboy….not Beat-Boy. One of those metas that lived in the tower out on the bay.
A quick glance at the closet once more (and what did you expect to see there his mind chided, still rather embarrassed that he allowed himself to be so caught up in his youngest's ramblings) and he strode across the room to shut the window that had probably caused all this commotion.
"Bec…Rebecca…don't call her names. It's time everyone went back to bed…there's no monsters…no boogeymen. The window must've knocked something into your nightlight Darce…and it broke. It's okay now."
Darcy's expression conveyed her disbelief at this assessment but nodded anyways. After all the light was on and the monster had gone out the door. Rebecca gave no nod, but her eyes rolled in her head like loose ball bearings before she shot a look of pure venom at both her father and sister, "Whatever." Not giving her father the time to even react she whipped about and walked from the room letting the door slam shut behind her. Stupid baby…stupid old man. She would bet ten bucks that he slept on her floor tonight so the little pain wouldn't cry anymore…god how stupid. She could already hear him settling in down the hall, the slip of light beneath the door flicking off.
Walking past her open bedroom door to the kitchen she grumbled her annoyances to the empty room…luckily Darcy hadn't gone and screwed up her conversation with Tommy…better known to her father as Qrtback230. A glass of water before she turned in for the night, now that stupid Darcy had gone and woken up. By the time she had filled the plastic cup from the sink she could hear her father's rumbling snores.
A creak from behind her…and without skipping a beat the young teen snapped, "Get back in your room Darcy!" In the hall a door creaked shut sharply. That was more like it. With a dramatic sigh she tossed the cup in the sink, ignoring the remaining water that sloshed all over the counter top before ambling back towards the hallway to her room. She wasn't quite sure when Darcy had become such a pain in the backside or when her father had become such a loser but it had happened…and so she counted down the years until birthday 18 and she was free of their nonsense.
She was so caught up in her inner ranting that she walked straight into her bedroom door. Rubbing her offended nose she gave a small snappy curse before turning the knob and throwing it open. Stupid door...she left it open why was it shut? Stupid old house with its stupid broken doors. She'd tell her father in the morning to fix it…though god knows when he would bothe….
Eyes widened when she entered, seeing the small scene before her. Clothes lay strewn about, closet and drawers open, one pulled right off the tracks onto the floor. The homework that had been so neatly piled unto her desk had been knocked to the floor, sheets of paper lying about haphazardly and out of order, some even torn and crumpled. Somehow it seemed a small bomb had been detonated between the time it took her hands to turn the faucet on and her tossing the unfinished beverage down the drain. A glance to her night stand revealed the outfit set out for the next day to be mostly MIA, the only thing remaining in a tangled mess by the over turned chair was the last straw. A breeze from the open window set a sleeve of her favorite blouse (now wrinkled into a ruined ball) flopping about. With a cry of rage she ripped the door back open behind her.
"DARCY! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY ROOM!!?"
Outside the ranch style home within the bushes, a hand cast a stained sleeveless under shirt to the side. It fell with a light whisper over a pair of torn and large jeans heaped carelessly on the dewy grass. This task done the fingers set to work on the clasps of a pair of brown boots, the nails of it still slightly torn, dark stains dyed purple in the early morning moon here and there amongst the cuticles. The girl was crouched low; her new clothes though baggy in some places and a little too tight in others fitting her body a great deal better than the discarded garments pilfered the night before. A lock of blond hair fell over the grayish haze of her left eye, obscuring it and half of her bent frames from view.
She'd almost been caught…had definitely been seen by two, but judging from the shouts emerging from the home behind her hidden form none in the house were really the wiser. Maybe the child, but no one would believe her anyway. Bi colored eyes darted to the pile of trinkets beside her, attracted by the humming pulsing glow emerging from one of the objects. The slightest of cringes flickered on her face.
Finished with her boots she gathered the pile, an inhaler in the pants pocket, a camera lifted from the home behind her, hung on a strap about a slim neck. Resting beside the camera was an ornate Celtic knot that hung on a delicate chain the dark silver contrasting heavily with her pale skin. The rest, silly little odds and ends shoved into whatever pockets would hold them save for that luminous marble casting an angry reddish glow about the grass.
Sighing in resignation the sickly looking girl picked it up, pinched between two fingers and held the strange little orb up at eye level. Moments ago spiraling swiftly around it were silver rings which now tapped and strained with urgency against the digits holding them in place. In this silence a low growling, felt more than heard, emitted from the glowing light. The girl answered it with a series of growling garbles of her own, her voice soft and unmistakably apologetic before glancing back with interest at the window she just exited,
"The older one? Yes…yes...understood…"
The red glow had faded into a less violent orange, the rings no longer insistently battering on her fingers. The voice emerged again, calmer this time in quiet and understandable though accent tinged English. "Until then you wait…y'know the rules love…wait for him and until then obs…"
"Observe and minimal engagement…earn their trust…obey the rules…yea yea I know the deal by now."
"Don't be smart with me girl…now go…"
As soon as the conversation began it ended, the pulsing marble's glow fading from orange into a swirl of smoky white and grey. Soon it was no more than a slight glimmer and it too was tucked away into one of her many new pockets. The blind eye roved over towards the house once more, its pale hue contrasting heavily above the purplish crescents forming under her eyes. Exhausted or not the teen stood, far more steady after the few hours of sleep afforded to her on the beach the night before. Then without another word she turned and left the yard, boots clicking softly on the sidewalk, heading back to the bay. Tomorrow was Tuesday, she'd know where to find one of them, and then the game would begin again.
Pawn To F3.
"Robert?"
Half lidded blue eyes glanced lazily over to the woman kneeling beside him roving over the pink bikini she was currently clad in. His head turned ever so slightly on the lap of the girl cradling it behind him. The young man sported a pair of plain blue jeans and a tee shirt with a stylized "G" marking it. His blond hair mussed at the moment as the red haired orange tinged young woman cradling his skull ran her fingers through it. Robert Candide, Gauntlet of the Titans, playboy extraordinaire surrounded by a harem of women, all vying for his affections and attentions. Yes, life was indeed good for Gauntlet.
"Yes Kitten?"
The pretty blond crouched at his side gave him a look of vapid awe that dictated to him that she was mere seconds away from swooning. Any thought the girl may have had to speak flittered away in watery staring. A smile and a sigh, it was to be expected, his sheer awesomeness often left all around him speechless. He opened his mouth awaiting another grape from Starfire's hands when a yowling noise caught his attention.
A smile like a parent indulging a particularly simple but sweet child made its way across Gauntlet's face as he turned once again to look in the opposite direction. Sitting in the corner another young man, slightly older than he sat grinning blankly. Dressed in all white with strands of spiked hair the same hue poking out from beneath a pointed dunce's cap, the youth gave a laugh and went back to swinging a cat around by its tail, oblivious to its yowling.
"I'm Noel Collins and I'm the biggest idiot ever!"
Robert sighed and shook his head not unkindly as a chorus of laughter sounded from the women surrounding him. Yes, life was good...and so he turned his gaze back up again awaiting his grape and the opportunity to gaze up into the sparkling worshiping eyes of…
Beastboy.
"Dude you awake?"
"AHHHHHH!"
"AHHHHHH!"
Green limbs flailed for balance as the startled meta stumbled back away from the living room couch. Knees caught the edge of the coffee table sending him tumbling head over heal towards the floor below. Instantly the purple and black clad youth shifted, limbs shrinking and suit absorbed into his already curling body. By the time he hit the deck his shell plated body merely rolled across the carpet, leaving a dizzy though non-concussion suffering armadillo to amble crookedly away.
Heart hammering away and the Gauntlet half way activated Robert shifted ever so slightly to glare at the green armadillo with exhausted eyes. Such a beautiful dream…such a wonderful dream…and now? Awake again. With a rather out of character and cranky grumble he turned back away, intent on fading back into sleep only to look up and see a pair of bright green eyes peering down at him from the arm of the couch.
"Marvelous! You are awake friend Robert!"
"No I'm not…"
"But a storm is coming!"
As if this somehow emphasized her point Starfire gestured to a baseball hat fit snugly onto her head with one hand while lifting a baseball bat up with the other. Robert did not want to know what baseball and thunderstorms had to do with one another nor did he want to know why despite everyone else slipping into sweet comatose exhaustion how Star stayed so chipper.
"Robert?"
"Robert Candide isn't here right now…please leave a message after the beep…beep."
The past week had been nothing short of grueling for the Titans it seemed. Every five seconds the alarm had to sound. A Slade copycat on Wednesday followed by not one, not even two, but three armed robberies…none of them having any connection to the other except for a chorus of "Hey it's Bob and Frank!" when they shoved the last group into the back of the SWAT truck. Thursday of course brought great news when some lunatic with water based powers decided that even though no one else could see it the city was indeed on fire and he had no choice but to explode the sewer system up unto the street to "save the day!" Three hours of chasing him (somewhere along the line he also decided his clothes were on fire and needed to be shed) and then another twelve to clean up and fix the damage his repulsive mess left behind. Each day seemed liked this...robberies, nut cases, and all around pains in the ass seemed to have crawled out of the woodwork to maim, streak, harm, and them all of sleep.
Then of course there was also all the "little things" around the tower that needed to be done. Cooking, cleaning, fixing whatever it was someone had broken with a cannon this week. Somehow, someway the schedule seemed to have gone awry often ending in arguments about whose turn exactly it was to repair the fourth wall and who had to cook dinner and why it was that ALL of Noel's shirts had been turned pink (which Robert still swears had nothing to do with him….almost…sorta…). Add unto this the daily 5 a.m. training session regiment that their 'fearless leader' had made mandatory after that incident with Mumbo down at the pier (which for some reason Victor STILL wouldn't give details about). You pretty much were left with a group of young men and women who were going on about 2 to 3 hours of sleep a day and an unhealthy amount of energy drinks. But the alarm had been quiet today…no frantic calls, desperate screams…and so Robert had tentatively decided to take a little nap.
"Robert we must go and play the bass of ball before the storm has moved out."
A muffled groan that sounded suspiciously like go away from the pillow the young man had buried his face in. With a flick of his wrist yellow energy flowed out into the air and tried to make a sound proof barrier between himself and the orange tinged alien. A look of disappointment overcame her features as she knocked tentatively on the shell surrounding him.
"Pleeeeease?"
"It's base not bass…Why the sudden interest in sports and weather patterns Kor?"
Starfire gave out an "eep" of surprise, not noticing as two of her team mates entered the room through the door through which a rather cranky green armadillo had just shuffled out of. The speaker, a white clad meta, raised a single brow up towards his hairline as she turned a little too quickly and gave a nervous laugh. Noel Collins, Savior, watched as she shifted her weight from foot to foot and switched the baseball bat from hand to hand. The slightest of pink rose in her cheeks as she gave a shrug, before quipping.
"No reason dear friend! Um….You're not wearing your headband today!"
"It's being bleached and don't change the subject," eyes quickly darted to glare at the still energy surrounded form on the couch, before coming back to Star, whose sheepish mannerisms involved into outright twitchings. She had set aside the wooden bat by now and was twisting her fingers in and out of each other.
"Nothing wrong with exer…"
"It's from that stupid book she's been reading….The one with the sparkly vampires...apparently when they're not incessantly whining they play baseball in the rain."
"Raven!"
The violet haired woman, who had moments ago entered the living area with her boyfriend, merely sipped her tea. Without a glance up at the red faced Star she settled herself down onto a space of couch not obscured by yellow energy.
"If you insist on reading that vapid Twilight nonsense than learn to take the ribbing from your peers Kory."
"But the writing is…"
"God awful and dramatic."
"The character Edwar…"
"Would look like sleep deprived crack addict in the real world and nothing you say is going to make that book, its author, or characters appealing to me."
"There are over a hundred of rooms in this tower…why must everyone gather in the one place I'm sleeping?"
Both Raven and Starfire ceased their bantering to glance over at Robert whose attempts and soundproofing seemed to have been in vain. Gauntlet deactivating and energy dissipating, the young man clutched at his temples and glared at the two with sunken eyes. A look of sympathy from Star and one of cool indifference from Raven, who sighed and went back to sipping her tea.
"You do have a room to sleep in Robert."
"Someone broke the fourth wall again and there is a draft now."
"Well considering no one but you will enter your room since it looks like the site of some natural disaster…you were the "someone" who broke it and you can fix it."
The tired glare shifted over to Noel's direction. The white clad meta was currently opening and closing cabinets in the Titan kitchen, apparently searching for something. Whatever it was did not seem too encompassing however as he found time to listen and comment. Sitting up ever so slightly to get a better glaring point Robert grumbled, "Unlike Kory I do not run solely on the joy of being alive…I spent all night on the phone with tech support to fix Tim's computer…"
"Which fried when you and Garfield decided to pirate that game off of Limewire…everyone is tired Robert…my sympathy for you is limited."
"You're capable of sympathy? Isn't that a human emotion?"
Ignoring this slight completely Savior continued rummaging through the rather barren kitchen. Seeing that the bickering had stopped Star turned back towards the couch to find Robert already rolling over and falling back into a doze. With a slight frown she gave a hesitant smile and opened her mouth to speak. Raven still not even glancing up said, "The answer is No Kory." Before disappointed could be voiced Noel returned to the living room frowning, "We have no food...how do we have no food?"
"We have a box of meat flavored baked goods under the counter Noel…they are most delicious."
"…..Those are dog biscuits Kor….dog biscuits for Silkie."
"...but Silkie is not a canine."
Star could only smile in bemusement at the young man's sigh, head cocking to the side ever so slightly as he pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. Sensing Noel's patience thinning Raven took it upon herself to change the subject away from Kory's eating habits.
"Nigel is doing a grocery run Noel…He'll be back soon enough."
"Nigel…"
"Yes Nigel."
"The same Nigel who came back on the verge of a nervous break down with 27 tubs of Crisco, 53 rolls of paper towels, and an ear of corn last time we sent him?"
"…Yes…."
"…red round fruit…"
The grey toned alien stared at the piece of paper on which Starfire had written and then back at the produce before him. This was the problem with letting ten people write out a food shopping list as they happened to think of things…especially when two of said people had a limited grasp of Earth customs and foods…and some of them paid no heed to details. Compounding this problem was sending HIM here to decipher it all. With gentleness one would never expect from such lethal looking hands the blacktrinian picked up an apple in one hand and a tomato in the other, frowning at them both. Both red….both round…and he was relatively sure both fruit…he wasn't even going to consider those tiny red spheres bunched into a basket at the end (cheeries or something).
Finally he grabbed a bag of both and tossed them both into the cart, trying to hide the look of frustration crossing his face. Grocery runs conducted without the aid of either a team mate or his significant other were always stressful…people tended to stare at large grey skinned aliens picking through the produce and the security guard at the door never quite believed that the metal encasing his fingers did in fact NOT come off and was not going to be used to eviscerate the other patrons. In fact grocery runs might have been one of the worst tasks ever to be asked of him…well besides cleaning out the med-bay and taking inventory…which he realized with an inner groan he had yet to do today as well.
Another glance at the piece of paper in his hand and the notes upon it all in varying degrees of illegibility, as he pushed the already heavily loaded cart in front of him. Absently he pushed it straight into one of the shelves, the bang echoing in the store around him and sending several bags of oranges plummeting. Catching them deftly, careful to avoid slicing them in half, he looked up red faced to the small crowd watching him. An older man shaking his head in disapproval, a nervous looking mother quickly pushed the cart containing her toddler away, and a teenaged girl sitting on the edge of a bin of pumpkins smiled not unkindly in amusement. Well at least a mess had been avoided and finally something on the damnable list made sense and with a slight smile he began tossing the ingredients in as he passed them.
"Guacamole ingredients….limes…onions…already have tomatoes and…"
Black and blue eyes narrowed in annoyance at the scrawl of Robert's hand writing and he stopped dead. Nigel may have not been the most astute when it came to Earthern terms and expressions…but he knew enough to know that there was no way that this was right. That not a single sign had this phrase on it and this was just another way for his blond team mate to amuse himself while making the blacktrinian's life just slightly more difficult.
"Alligator pears. What in the name of…"
A slim hand pointing to his right flooded his vision, startling him slightly. Following the direction the digit pointed him towards he saw a display of dark green lumpy fruit. The pear shape was unmistakable…and its skin did closely resemble that of the aforementioned reptile.
"Avocados…"
"Hm?"
Turning his gaze away from what he assumed were Robert's "alligator pears" Nigel looked to his side to the owner of the pointing hand. The smiling girl from before, still perched atop the pumpkin bin stared back, the slightly amused grin not yet gone from her face. She could have been no more than 17…perhaps even younger. Blond hair pulled halfway back into a clip of some sort the rest in small intricate braids falling down her back, the beads clicking slightly at their ends as she tilted her head at him.
The doctor in him automatically took note of her slight, almost sickly frame, the dull haze over her left eye, which despite his being sure of its uselessness kept up well enough with its bright blue working twin. The mismatched eyes unnerved him somehow, All at once, a sense of familiarity flooded him though he'd be damned if he knew why. He was sure that he'd never seen this teen before in his life, but sitting there holding his stare somehow made him doubt himself. Breaking away from his gaze, she dropped the pointing hand and gripped the edge of the pumpkin bin again, nodding her head over at the display slightly.
"Alligator pears are avocados…no one really calls them that though…whoever wrote the list out is busting your chops."
"Oh...well thank you. That makes my job easier."
"No problem."
Making his way over, he could practically feel the girl's eyes watching him, surely with that tiny Cheshire cat grin on her face. Absently tossing the oddly textured fruit into the cart he gave a glance backward to find the pumpkin bin abandoned. With a look this way and that he found that she had vanished from sight. For the better he supposed…helpful though she was, something was giving him the creeps about her…something seemed off.
The girl with the mismatched eyes was soon enough forgotten. Within 15 minutes Nigel could already feel the frustration and confusion winning out over his patience, picking at its fraying edges like an old sweater. Next on the list was "Star's favorite mustard"…how specific…there were 19 different brands...each with at least 5 different flavors and at least 2 of those flavors had varying degrees of "flavor-ocity." He was pretty sure that these condiment companies were now just making up words with the lone goal of driving him insane. It was mind numbing…with an annoyed noise he grabbed 6 of the differing types at random and tossed them into the cart.
Next, please? Juice? Well, he thought, this says juice and look at the happy little clam on it…that was simple.
A soft whimper brought him out of his slow spiral into can goods induced hell. Barely a sniffle that by most would have gone unnoticed as they continued their food stuffs rounds. Most people didn't have ears like satellite dishes though, and what was a whisper for them came to him in stereo. Dark eyes glanced over his shoulder slightly and down, seeking the source of the pitiful sound.
It didn't take long however, as the black and blue orbs locked on to the small child that had wandered into the aisle some 10 feet behind him. Pig tailed and thumb sucking, she could have been no more than 5 or 6 years in age. Wide glassy eyes brimming with tears she gazed about the shelves, the hand not preoccupied with providing her with a thumb to suck, pulling at the left pig tail ever so slightly. It didn't take a genius to recognize the look of a lost child. With a sigh Nigel pressed the cart to one side and took a step forward, kneeling down to her eye level. Poor little tike, busy and frustrated as he was he couldn't just ignore her.
"Are you lost my dear?"
Eyes brightened ever so slightly as the sound of an adult voice, the child turned in his direction nodding her head. That is until she finally saw the man talking to her. Nigel never quite realized his mistake. He gave her a kind and gentle smile, and all the tot saw was teeth.
Sharp…pointy…fanged…teeth.
The shriek she emitted reached pitches that sent Nigel stumbling backwards with his own caw of surprised. He brought his hands up, one to catch his fall and the other in front of him palm facing out as he tried to reassure the screaming little girl of his harmlessness. Even if the hand was not a sharp metal claw, it probably would have done nothing. Being as it was? The girl screamed again at an even louder decibel and fled the aisle before he could get another word out. All of this in a matter of a split second and that grappling hand looking to steady the off balance alien? It found purchase on the handle of the cart, the momentum of his stumbling rocketing it forward on its wheels straight into a display of ketchup. Over tumbles the cart…over tumbles the ketchup…over tumbles Nigel right unto the floor.
Food. Shopping. Sucks.
A low growl began to vibrate in the back of his throat, metal encased hands clenching into tightly balled fists. He was done. No more shopping...clamoring up unto his feet he glared at the scattering, rolling, and splattered items that once resided in the overturned cart, it's one wheel spinning in the air. It's mocking me his mind snapped as he bent to gather what was salvageable.
It didn't take particularly long to launch the cart back upright or to toss all its contents back in. Checking between the list and what he had regathered, mentally checking off each item…frowning at the feeling that he lost something. Strange eyes scanned the cracked linoleum that covered the floor, seeking whatever it was that was nagging him. They finally came to rest on a pair of worn brown boots. Eyes trailed up to the skinny style jeans that looked a size to big for the legs they covered and at about hip level saw the hand offering the canned juice with the clam on it. With a sigh of defeat he took it from the teenager's hand and tilted his gaze upwards to her face.
"Having trouble still?"
"You could say that…"
"Would you like some help Mr. Scalpel?
"Oh so you …know me…" he only realized how lame this comment had started once it had already left his mouth. The teen with the mismatched eyes gave a small laugh and nodded her head, the beads in her hair letting out those light clicking sounds once more.
"No offense…but you are a 6 foot tall grey skinned alien super hero sir… you are kinda hard to miss."
Sir? He really wasn't that much older than this girl…he pondered the formality. Before he could question it though the same hand who had returned to him this can of juice plucked the grocery list out of his grasp. Spectacled eyes scanned the page darting every so often to the cart with either a nod of the head or a bemused smile. Normally Nigel may have found the presumptuous girl to be a bit pushy but glancing at the mess of items in his cart, part of him welcomed the intrusion.
Finishing the list she set to work whisking the multiple bottles of mustard from the top of his hodgepodge pile and tossing them back onto the shelf. Without so much as a second glance she snatched up 3 bottles of the same brand and flavor and tossed them into the cart in their place. The juice was also placed back, much to his annoyance. He may have not been all that well versed but he could read.
"It says juice right there."
"Not all juice is the same Mr. Scalpel…that's clam juice. Trust me I'm sure the others don't mean clam juice."
"Oh…"
A faint blush sprung up on his face, he supposed the little clam character on the label wasn't just some cutesy mascot.
"Don't worry about it…simple mistake. Any one would be fried after reading that list…in some cases it looks like a fairly average monkey wrote it out. Hmm Juice…I'd probably go with Cran-Apple Peach."
Hearing the suggestion, an image of Tara complaining that they were out of her favorite juice flashed before him. The five letters had been her hand writing as well…good thing this girl and his team mates had similar tastes he supposed.
"Well…where to next?"
He stared at her blankly for a moment, not comprehending her question.
"I offered my help didn't I? Let's see you did okay on the produce, you even got all the herbs right…and you've got…what is this?"
"It says beef…For barbecuing…this was on sale."
"…this…is a cow tongue…"
"Cows are beef."
With a look of mild disgust she pinched the butcher package between two fingers sure to hold it at arm's length as she tossed it unto the shelf beside her. "Not everything on a cow is um….barbecue worthy Mr. Scapel. I'd go with burgers…or ribs…," she said steering the cart away from the abandoned package of cow tongue whipping a hand absently on the ill fitted pant leg. Catching up to her in a few short strides he smiled a bit sheepishly down at her as carried on, consulting the list every so often and tossing in another item.
"Please…just Scalpel is fine. Thank you again Miss."
"Ryce…"
"Excuse me?"
"I'll call you Scalpel…you call me Ryce."
"This is robbery…"
"The economy is bad."
"That's not the point!"
"Doesn't the city pay for your food anyway?"
"…also not the point Ms. Ryce."
The teenager sighed and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose to keep them from toppling unto the pavement below. Nigel in the meantime had taken to staring mouth agape at the receipt in his hand, which's end was dragging on the ground behind him. Never before had the blacktrinian realized how much food they actually consumed…or how much it cost. He could hear the girl chuckling at his expression softly behind him and turned back to face her.
"Thank you again for your help…I keep my sanity for another day it seems."
"Your welcome N...."
The ringing communicator cut her off, the volume actually cutting above the noise of the traffic on the street before them. With an apologetic grin he reached into a pocket, clawed hand remerging clutching the basic yellow com emblazoned with a T. Her eyes widened ever so slightly and he saw a flicker of excitement glittering there. Now he understood. A fan. That explained the formality from before. The look on her face more befitting of an impromptu meeting of a movie star than a glance at a Titan communicator. It was endearing in a way.
"Scalpel? You there"
"Yes Robin…just finishing up and heading ho…"
"We have a crazed animal loose down town…meet us at 33rd and Vine."
"Can't animal control handle this?"
"It's a 2,000 lb rhinoceros that is shooting a corrosive agent that eats through steal….no. The whole team is needed I think."
Somewhere in the background his ears detected what could only be Robert's protests at being dragged out of bed again.
"Robin…I have over $600 worth of food here…"
"I'll handle it."
Looking up away from the miniature image of their team leader on the screen Nigel found Ryce leaning on the cart piled high with packages, "I'm sorry?"
"I can have them send it all over later tonight for you...unless you want to take it all with you and hope it doesn't get acidic rhino goo on it."
"Scalpel who is that?"
"Just a friend Robin…I'll be there in five minutes."
With a flick of his wrist he snapped the yellow intercom shut. Ryce was by now walking her fingers up and down the edge of the cart nonchalantly humming softly to herself.
"You can have them sent over? Really?"
"Yup…no problemo."
"Let me give you the addr…"
"Giant T…middle of bay…almost as hard to miss as 6 foot tall grey alien."
He couldn't help but chuckle. Coming out of another person the light sarcasm might have sounded rude, but the girl managed to make it friendly. He supposed he should have more doubts about just up and leaving over half a grand of food with a complete stranger, but just as he felt off put by her earlier, he felt a strange amount of trust now. In fact, he could not help but chastise himself for how uneasy he had felt around her originally. Giving her a broad grin he nodded, "Very true…thank you again Ryce." He was just about to run off towards 33rd when he heard her stutter out behind him
"Mist…uh…I mean Scalpel…I was wondering…if you could…um…"
Glancing back he saw her standing beside the cart, ears bright red, eyes cast down. She had a camera in her hand…and a pen. Not thirty seconds later he was off, in good spirits despite the "lovely" task which lay some 6 blocks east of him. Not every day a citizen of Jump not only didn't cringe away from his appearance but actually asked for an autograph.
"Food! Glorious food!"
"Dramatic much Gar?"
The green tinged meta didn't respond to Victor's deadpanned assessment, instead taking it upon himself to start rummaging through the packages they had carried inside. He was so hungry he didn't know where to start…fry up a tofu burger maybe? That would take too long. Perhaps some chips? Not hardy enough. Then maybe…Eyes widened and his mouth set the faucet to on.
Pie.
Hands never quite got the chance to snatch up the large apple pie taunting him so lusciously from the counter top. A metal composed elbow crashed down on the crown of his head when he was mere inches away from its crusty-appley goodness. Wincing eyes tried their best to glare up at Cyborg who only grappled his smaller shoulder and pushed him back away from the bounty of feasting before him.
"You are covered in mutant rhino spit…DO NOT touch our food."
"But I'm hungryyyyy!"
"Stop whining…go shower and someone will make dinner."
"Who? The only one's who are any good are Tara and her hands are crispy and Sophie who is still at the police station!"
As if to make his point further their near impossibly skinny team mate wandered into the kitchen area. Ice blue eyes narrowed into slits at everything, arms held out delicately in front of her. The lanky limbs ended at the moment not in hands but in wads of cotton and gauze from which tiny stumps of finger tips would wiggle every so often. A sympathetic look from her boyfriend went unrecognized as she merely grumbled out something ornery and probably crude before plopping herself down in a chair. Following her, sighing and looking rather battered, bruised, and burnt himself Nigel reached out to check the bandages he had wrapped nearly an hour or so ago.
"Tara…Tim did warn you that it was corosi…"
"Shut. Up. Nigel."
"Hey! Nigel ya even got all the stuff for my famous barbecue sauce? I thought I forgot to write the ingredients down…man we gotta send you out more often!"
"Wow…Nigel…how did you manage to figure this list out? Hell you even knew Raven's favorite tea…I can't even find it half the time."
Pulling away from the glaring match with his blond team mate, Nigel turned to see Noel staring uncomprehendingly at the scrawled out mess that was the grocery list. Victor had already busied himself with storing the odd array of ingredients that the blacktrinian man had seen the young woman toss into the cart earlier. It struck him suddenly and oddly… he realized before he opened his mouth he was going to forgo mentioning the teenager. He couldn't imagine any reason as to why but he had no desire to bring her up…in fact felt compelled to purposefully omit her entirely.
"Who is Ryce?"
"Huh?"
Sophie Matthews stood in the door way peering curiously at the piece of paper in Noel's hand. Eyes exhausted looking, dark circles marking their sockets and her full cheeks. A pang of sympathy raced through the taller alien's face. For days running between a morgue and police station…it was no wonder the poor woman looked near ready to collapse. And for such a grisly assignment too…
"Who is Ryce? They left a note on the back of that list."
For the first time both Noel and Nigel noticed the unfamiliar handwriting looped quickly on the back of the list that had been thrown back into one of the bags. Turning it over Noel read aloud, "She's right…'Thanks for signing my camera Mr. Scapel ("Mr. Scalpel?" Garfield snickered behind them)…hope everything makes it to the tower okay' and there is a little heart and the name Ryce."
"Heheheheh…looks like you have competition there tubby…"
"Knock it off Tara," Beastboy muttered from his position at the sink, which he appeared to be all but bathing in. Tara seemed to ignore him as she granted an unkind grin to the heavier set woman in the door, who merely returned it with a dark look of her own.
"Don't be ridiculous Terra…Ryce was a young woman who helped me figure out this turkey cut list you all gave me…just a nice kid…"
A frown line creased Noel's brow as he stared at the slightly rushed, but undoubtedly feminine script on the list's back. Eyes glanced quickly to the slew of packages on the table…he had gotten everything. More than everything in fact, a big step from a single ear of corn and enough vegetable shortening to clog half the arteries of Jump City. "It's chicken scratch Nigel. This Ryce girl…she knew ALL the stuff on this list?"
"Well…yes…"
"Even Vic's super secret barbecue recipe? The one he keeps locked in a safe in his room…That doesn't strike you as odd?"
"She was a fan Noel…just a nice kid who practically turned purple when I gave her an autograph. That's why she knew it. And there is nothing "super secret" about Vic's sauce…Robert posted the recipe on the interknit weeks ago. You're paranoia is showing my friend."
"Even still…"
"Shh!"
The plus size heroine cut them both silent with her shushing gesture. Moving with surprising quickness, she crossed the room from where she had thrown her bag carelessly to one side. Snatching up the remote from the counter she pointed and clicked. Instantly the television's volume began to climb. On the screen a young blond woman in a pants suit was already halfway through her news segment.
"…and as of this time there are no leads. Captain David Stathis of Jump City had only this to say…"
Instantly the image of the young woman cut away and was replaced with a scene filmed at a news conference from earlier that day. A middle aged gentleman in a police uniform was standing at the podium.
"Right now all we can ask is that the citizens of Jump take some precautions. Lock your doors at night…keep your kids in after dark. If you notice anyone suspicious especially around our schools please contact the authorities as soon as possible. That is all we have for you at this time."
Flashing lights and questions fell on him in a tsunami of caws and shouts. His face clearly showed signs of his weariness at whatever this case contained. Noel could sympathize…he knew that look too well. Once more it cut away and the screen was filled with the same young reporter from before.
"Authorities are not commenting any further than this. We have heard that the bones found last week are allegedly from a 10 year old child…when questioned on whether or not the JCPD is going to involve the Titans in their investigations we were informed that cooperation between the two teams has already been set into motion. Back to you Charlie."
"Damn it…"
An out of character look of disgust ran across Sophie's features. Not that any of them could blame her. Being a mortician could desensitize you to so many things…but night and day staring at the mutilated and broken bones that once belong to a child? It would get to anyone. What had originally started as a simple case of missing kids had taken such a ghastly turn. It wasn't until the bones were found that the police force realized that these reports were no longer indicative of runaways. The trauma to the remains had made tracing much of anything impossible.
"Any closer to a lead Sophie?"
"No…it's just so hard to even tell how the poor kid died…the remains were lying out in the woods for so long, EVERYTHING has been at it. I won't even tell you what we found in her chest cavity."
"I'm eating pie here so that would be awesome if you didn't."
Arms cleaned as much as possible, Garfield frowned up at Sophie from the table, fork plunged into the confection. His only returned response was a half absent nod from the mortician as she made her way across the room to lean against her battered significant other.
On the still loud television screen, the report had long since ended moving on to another news conference. The man on the screen all but the police officer's opposite. Cleanly shaving and smiling…a handsome young man in his mid thirties with soft brown colored hair. Standing behind the podium with him was a pretty young waif like woman in a light blue dress. The perfect politician wife in every way, from the bright white smile to the subtly dependent way her fingers grazed the man's arm. Noel watched with mild interest, listening as the young man addressed the crowds regarding budgetary concerns and educational funding. Without so much as batting an eye, a strand of the shimmer looped around the remote behind him lifting it away from Gar's non-pie shoveling and outstretched hand.
"I'm listening to this Gar wait one minute."
"Why? Who's the suit?"
"Assemblyman Harry Nearson…this is probably going to be Jump's mayor this time next year. He's the political sweetheart of the month people from both sides of the aisle are singing his praises. You haven't notice all the campaigning? His office has called us 4 times this week alone for photo ops. The only way we got him to stop calling is to hand the phone to Rob."
"Is that who Rob was quoting 'Bonanza' to on the phone last night?"
"…I can only assume so."
Gar nodded his mouth too full to do much else before he returned his focus to pie, every so often offering Tara a spoonful as well. A glance at the digital clock fixed into the television set and the headache Noel was nursing began to pulse. So late and still so much to do…food had to go away…those dishes from 3 days ago looked capable of crawling out of their sink…he had to straighten and mop down the training room from this morning…he was going to watch something on television with Raven but god knew that was out. Eventually he supposed there would be time to sleep. With an inward sigh he straightened up and made his way across the room. A shimmer strand flicked a dish towel away from the sink as he moved flinging it over the back of the couch.
"Rob you are still on dish duty…wake up."
From the other side Gauntlet groaned miserably from under the dry towel covering his face. At least he'd gotten 15 minutes of sleep this time around.
It is mind boggling the lengths young teens will go to just to prove a parent wrong. Some of the most intelligent and logical falling prey to some near instinctual urge to rebel against something that they know is in their interest. Rebecca was a young…but she wasn't stupid by any means. She knew deep down that this was a stupid idea. It was only now, standing in the street in the middle of the night that she truly came to see just how stupid it was. A breeze ruffled her skirt slightly, carrying with it the chill of the approaching autumn as she shuffled away from the closed coffee shop behind her.
Qrtback230, more affectionately known to her as Tommy from PS 23, had asked her to meet. Meeting an internet boyfriend alone had set off every alarm her father had ingrained in her head since he had brought her the desktop PC several years ago. But apprehension had fallen away quickly after a fresh round of fighting that afternoon with her father. The subject matter had been banal and silly, but those qualities had melted away with magnificent ease in the heat of her self righteous anger. The door slammed shut the police officer did not even know the thirteen year old had long since clamored out her window.
But Tommy hadn't come. Upwards of 17 times she had checked the time and place on her phone, each time reaffirming that it was in fact Café Martine that he agreed to meet her at. She'd waited until closing and no Qrtback230. Once they had kicked her out she had waited outside an hour more. Now it was dark and late and she sure as hell wasn't waiting for the bus. Hot tears had already begun to build in her eyes, fueled by a cocktail of anger, humiliation, and anxiousness. Shuffling feet kicked up a candy bar wrapper watching as another chilly gust sent it flying down an alleyway.
"Becky?"
A startle squeal erupted from her lips before she could quiet herself. Strangely silent with no protest at the use of what she often deemed a babyish nickname she turned and peered into the dark alley. The shadows were too thick to make out any shape. Again the voice called out to her.
"Becky? Snowflake1291?"
"Tommy? Is that you? What happened I thought you said nine?"
A smile crossed her features…he had come after all. She walked into the open mouth of the alleyway still smiling.
She knew she should stop this. Knew she very well could at that. She didn't though. She sat in the dark of the alley opposite chewing a stolen candy bar that tasted more plastic than chocolate. Artificial sweet gunk smeared her fingers, licked away with slow deliberation, not knowing when the next opportunity to eat would be. She should've grabbed something better from the blacktrinian's cart…should've known that American chocolate would suck here too.
Fingers clean she stared back at the scene before her. The blue and grey eyes the same from before but different, the pupils slanted and reptilian in a way, old and young, and above all else sad. She should stop this and save the girl…she knew she should. But she made no move to. Ryce's face dragged down into a deep thoughtful frown. It was for the greater good…there were rules to be followed, even if she questioned their logic. Even if she felt physically ill by allowing this to occur. Her father had warned her of the sacrifices ahead…she steeled her mind against what her father would call her silly human heart.
She let the girl be taken.