And now for the little bit of nonsense that very few people will read. Even fewer people review, I'd guess, but I'll get over the lack of feedback. If I don't know what most people want to see, I'll go along with those who review. This chapter is one I find more interesting, but that's just me. Perpetual thanks to dr.evil99 for helping get BB just right for a scene in this chapter- no hints just yet, for all people who still are kind enough to be reading the author's drivel. Read and review- you'll burn calories. (Really. You will- just not very many.)


Chapter Seven: Action
.Right Night.
It was a Friday night. The Titans had been about to stop a light practice in favor of a movie. They didn't know who stopped reaching for street clothes first, but instead they went out to the T-Car. Victor had installed a few special switches- the car went from plain rich-kid's toy car to a vehicle worthy of a quintet of heroes with a quick code. Today was Robin's day for the passenger seat, and Starfire let Beast Boy take the middle seat. She didn't even pretend to notice a reason for it, but Raven still knew. Starfire was very fond of trying to gently force her friends to get along.

"I think we're ready," Robin announced.

"I agree." Raven put her hood up.

"I'm in." Cyborg started the car- they'd be fine.

"Let's do it." Beast Boy was ready.

"Hands in," Starfire urged. Five hands met between the two front seats. "One- two- three- TITANS!" All yelled the last word- Kori had been insisting on the routine for a week, a conclusion of practice and an excuse to be louder than needed. No one else but Garfield had yet admitted to liking the custom.

"Let's go find ourselves some trouble," Robin said with a grin.

.First Fight.
They found it. In a town like Forston, finding a problem that needed a solution wasn't at all difficult. Three men in ski masks were breaking into a charity's office, cutting into the windowless building through a patch of wall without reinforcements. Building materials that would stand up to a plain hardware-store metal saw weren't used in the grittier portions of the town Robin and the rest quietly exited the car, and took a minute to pick their targets through a few nods. Beast Boy and Cyborg were back-up fighters- for three grade-B thieves, it wouldn't be very difficult.

Robin, Raven, and Starfire ran forward. "Titans, go!" Robin yelled when he was a few feet from his target, the man barking commands on the bedraggled front steps of the office. The man turned, caught by surprise, but still managed to start fighting Robin off. He was better than Robin had expected, but Robin was still confident that the guy fighting for the better reasons would win.

Raven broke left, confronting a man armed with a lead pipe. She disarmed him quickly with a few rapid-fire blows to his right collarbone, then kicked the pipe back towards Beast Boy. He tossed it down a sewer, where it wouldn't be used for any other break-ins. Raven kept fighting, using hand-to-hand delaying tactics and waited for an opening for her favorite combination of lights-out non-lethal blows.

Starfire took the right. Her target stopped to take a second look at the girl in the costume. He was unconscious before he considered the fact that she might be a threat. She saw Raven's man go down. They had found a good trio of thieves- nothing had gone wrong. Robin was doing well, and about to land a final blow when-

Beast Boy tackled Robin, who knocked the would-be robber's head against a support beam when he toppled forward. After rolling away and narrowly avoiding a fall off the thin porch of wooden slats, Robin was about to yell a sharp rebuke when a knife-wielding man that had been jumping from above gained his footing back and began slashing. Beast Boy shoved him again, getting Robin out of the path of the swinging knife.

Raven, Robin, and Starfire took the man with the knife out quickly, with a few supporting punches from Beast Boy as Cyborg covered the man's only escape. He wasn't stupid enough to run at the last of the heroes. Cyborg left the robbers with their hands neatly cabled around the support beam in an interlocking chain of bright plastic loops, with no knives anywhere near them.

The Titans had won their first fight. Robin couldn't help smiling, even as he asked through formalities as he dialed up the local emergency dispatcher. Cyborg had assured them that the communicators could patch onto any viable phone line, if radio contact was impossible. "Any casualties to our side?"

Raven saw it first. "Yes. We're heading back to your place, because you have a nice first-aid kit, and Beast Boy's riding shotgun." She grabbed a clean wrap of cloth from the T-Car's glove compartment. No one else had seen the need for a roll of gauze, but Raven was a cynic. Cynics prepared for the worst, and weren't all too surprised when a teammate had a bleeding gash down an arm. "I'll take care of him."

.First Aid.
Climbing out of the car once the Titans reached Victor's house, Garfield had never been so nervous in his life. Rachel, with her monotone and very regular threats of bodily harm, was going to take care of his arm. No one else seemed nervous. Richard had already made a few awkward apologies. Garfield wasn't mad. He had tackled his teammate with no warning- but only because if Victor had done the same thing, Richard would have a few injuries to add to the team's casualty list.

Rachel only rolled her eyes when Gar began a litany of apologies, deciding a pre-emptive confession just might lessen bodily harm. She had appropriated Victor's bathroom. He not only had disinfectant and gauze, he also had sterilized packets of suturing needles. She had asked him why his medicine cabinet had restricted surgical-grade items the time she had sorted through needles while looking for smelling salts. He only said something about his mother. That was enough- she had stopped prying. Nothing was expired, his dad never used the stuff, and she could use it without having to go through medical catalogs and questionnaires.

Finally, she interrupted him when he was apologizing about something or other- he was talking so quickly that she couldn't make out one word in ten. "Look. I may not be the nicest person on earth, but I know how to stitch people up." He looked a little too reassured. He looked likely to start- there he went, happily telling her a few of his more recent jokes. "But, as I stitch you up, if I keep hearing about video games, jokes, or some movie or television show you think I should see, I'll stitch your mouth shut, too."

He was quiet for the entire process of unwrapping the crude bandage from his arm. The cut was deeper than she had guessed, in a quick estimation on a dim street. She took out a brown washcloth and cleaned off what she could of his arm. The cut went through his shirt. Great. Just to make this a little more awkward- "We have two choices. I can either cut the arm off this shirt, to make sure I don't sew it to you and get fibers stuck in the cut, or you can take it off." Cuts on the upper arm were pretty bad about shirts, but his uniform would be fine with a bit of clever stitching.

"Um, I'd rather not need to buy another shirt." It could be a little hard to replace, with an odd style and color pattern.

She didn't say a word. She just helped ease the sleeve over the offending gash on his right arm, letting him do the rest. The cut was longer than it had looked, seven inches at least and staying pretty steadily around an inch deep, some parts going a little deeper. She washed off the rest of the blood before taking out a dangerous-looking spray bottle labeled ANTISEPTIC. "This will make sure there is no chance of infection."

"That's going to sting, isn't it?"

"A little." She shook the bottle. "Might want to brace yourself- the others are hovering around outside, just waiting for you to scream as I finally dismember you." Giving him another second, she sprayed the cut. It wasn't too deep, and the few muscles cut usually healed without too much help, in her experience.

"Hey- that didn't hurt." He was more than a little surprised.

"No, it didn't. Some people get pretty sensitive to the stuff, so it's best to give a warning. This has a nice spray- larger droplets can hurt." She put it away, looking through the extensive cabinet. For a cut that long, she'd need two forty-centimeter packets, and a pair of scissors. Green sutures were appropriate, and were thinner- they would feel less foreign and heal better. He didn't have bulging biceps to pop the thinner sutures. "I'm not completely qualified with anesthetic, but there is some local in here. So, it won't be exactly right- you'll either feel the stitches a little, not feel your arm for about an hour after I'm done, or decide to do this sans any of this- it's basically like Novocaine for your arm."

"I'll take it. I trust you."

She looked at the selection a little longer than was completely needed, counting under her breath to calm any trace of surprise or other useless emotions. No one had said that they trusted her before- not that it made any difference. It was either her, or finding some doctor in the hospital where too many questions were asked and fees were much higher than the cost of supplies. Besides, the worst she could do was make his arm numb for more than necessary. "This is going to feel weird," she warned. She took a small package, about the size of a band-aid, from a small basket. It looked like a Q-tip, albeit it one with flattened ends that came in a sterile package.

The anesthetic was translucent white, and cool to the touch. She moved carefully, spreading an even coating over the interior of the cut without touching the end to the actual wound, and then for a half-inch around all outsides. She was concentrating only on her task, and for a few careful minutes, she forgot to scowl.

She carefully prodded the edge of his wound. "Can you feel that?" The monotone was fully present, but the scowl was still less pronounced. She was used to bandaging and sewing, all small things done to heal people.

"No. Are you going to be a doctor? Because you'd be really good at it. I've never seen a teenager that could do something like that- have you practiced at a veterinarian's office? Because I know one girl who did- she'd practice stitching on dead animals in the back room, and that vet let her, but you're good at humans. Did you go to the county medical examiners? With all the gang members that end up dead, you could probably get a few for stitching." Remembering he had asked a question or three, he paused.

"No, no, and no. Now, could you please try being quiet? I haven't done this kind of stitching for a year and a half." The statement was odd- she had been doing this kind of work when she was fifteen, and probably for some time before that.

She took out the needles, ripping open the paper casing. He gulped. Two curved needles were connected to a long green thread. They were thicker than conventional sewing needles, and did not look friendly. "Relax. They're curved so it hurts less, and this helps whoever is sewing make the motion even." She took one needle in each hand, then made the first part of her stitch.

Within a few deft movements, she had an odd-looking knot in the center of the cut. She moved the stitches closer to his hand, until a line of the knots stretched evenly across half the cut. She cut the string with her scissors, dropping the needles into the small trash bin labeled SHARPS next to the soap dispenser. "Nearly done," she said, opening the second pack of needles.

He watched her. He didn't feel a thing. It was a little disconcerting to watch a needle go through his arm, but she did know what she was doing. The stitch wasn't too deep, or too close to the skin. She was done within another two minutes. He knew that she had done it before. Rachel knew about equalizing the pressure of the wound, but didn't feel like preaching her knowledge.

She cut the last stitch. "Don't get this wet for at least twenty-four hours. After that, you can wash it off with mild soap and water twice a day. I'll be seeing you just about every day, so I'll know when they need to come off. They'll be off in somewhere around two weeks. If your arm is really sore on Monday, don't be stoic. Tell me. Your foster mom's a nurse- let her know about your stitches, and she can watch for a fever, discharge, swelling, or redness." She wrapped the stitches in gauze, just for the moment. She would spare Victor's car, and wouldn't confuse his foster mother. Shelia would know how to care for stitches.

"Thanks, Rachel. Who knew we had a doctor in the house?"

She paused- she had been on her way out the door. The harshly bright light she had used to make sure she missed nothing in the cut left her face paler than ever, skin nearly translucent. She toned down the light, and the sudden change in lighting either tricked his eyes- or her lips had twitched into something suspiciously similar to a smile. "No problem." That was a little too close to friendly- back to business. "Besides, would you rather go to a hospital?" She left before he could respond, bringing the topic back to business. He could hear her politely shoving herself past the other Titans and enter the other changing room, an unused closet.

She was changed by the time he got out of the bathroom. That wasn't much of a surprise, when he had to survive a hug by Kori while keeping his arm safe and out of her reach without crashing the limb into the wall. Victor was glad that hospitals were left out of the equation- with as many hospital visits as Gar made, that probably wasn't the best place for him to be with a wound he couldn't explain.

Richard smirked. "What?" Gar asked. He didn't see any problem with the gauze on his arm. They'd see his stitches tomorrow. Saturdays were for soccer- he could run without hurting his arm. He'd just take a few painkillers.

"Looks like somebody couldn't wait to get his shirt off. Or did she ask you to?"

Rachel's response was to walk out of the room, down the hallway, and slam the door on her way out of the house. Kori frowned. Victor was about to say something, but Gar was the guy being insulted, and had a very angry look on his face that didn't look like his usual easy-going nature.

"Look, Robin. I got this cut making sure you didn't get stabbed in the back. A seven inch cut that goes up to one and a half inches deep means either taking off the sleeve or ditching the shirt for a few minutes. And, in case you didn't notice, until you said that, Rachel was actually having a pretty good day. But, of course, you had to be your immature little self and try to get a reaction. Well, congratulations, you got one. Now she's gone, will be more closed-off than usual tomorrow, and probably won't be civil to me for a week, just to prove your point is invalid."

"I could take you down," Richard said, eyes narrowing. He was not used to being snapped back at. Usually, the response to such a comment was awkward sputtering on his current victim's part.

"You might be able to, but you won't." Victor said. "Because I'd be on you first. The grass stain did well tonight, and taking on the small guy is never very noble. Taking on the injured small guy that saved your hide? Not done."

"You will stop being such a chlorrbag," Kori said, glaring in her most regal way.

Richard didn't even bother trying to figure out what a "chlorrbag" was. He backed down. "Okay, okay. Anyone up for pizza?"

"We lost part of the team. Vic, can I get a ride home? I think I might want a little back-up when I talk to Shelia." Gar wasn't taking it. Before the Titans- he would be rapidly retreating. Now- he knew he was a part of the team. He had pretty good night vision, if nothing else.

"Can I also come with you?" Kori asked. "I wish to meet your mother of foster."

"I'm going to pizza," Richard said.

"That's nice," Victor said, as if talking to a small child. "I guess you don't want to come. Well, I could drop you off at your uncle's place, Angelina's, or Gar's." Richard's glare didn't change. Victor wouldn't try to change the fearless leader's mind. "Okay, option number four- you go on your own. Richard, look. You're a good leader for battle tactics, but you really could work on your people skills. You've alienated a girl who was opening up a little bit, threatened a teammate, and made me mad." Victor didn't see any sign of a forthcoming response, so he and Gar left.

Kori lingered for a minute. "Richard?"

"Want to go for pizza?" he asked, seeing an opportunity to prove his point.

"I'll go with you for pizza when the entire team is present, or when you wish for me to be there with you. Right now, you don't want my company. You just want to show off some part of your ego. I shall see you tomorrow, at soccer. Maybe, if you apologize to friends Rachel and Garfield, we can go for pizza after that. This is a team, Richard, and you're part of it."

Kori walked away. She didn't look back. Richard stood there for a few minutes before he remembered to change into street clothes, pick up his back pack, and walk home. He would think about it, but he wasn't making any promises.

.Meet the Foster Parents.
Shelia Young took the appearance of three teenagers on her doorstep at eleven o'clock P.M. very well. She wasn't even fazed by Gar's gauzed arm, which showed beneath the t-shirt he had been wearing when he left her house with a light backpack earlier. "Oh, hello! Come in, come in!" It was easy to guess names- she had seen Rachel, and Richard was consistently described with a scowl. "Kori and Victor, right?"

Only after a few introductions did she tap Gar's shoulder. "Garfield, you were not injured when you left this afternoon. I do hope that you've had medical attention?"

"The gauze was just to make sure that the last bits of anesthetic didn't get all over Victor's car," he explained. Shelia was already un-wrapping it. She was a licensed nurse practitioner, and had seen her share of stitches.

"Did you go to one of those clinics? These are full-grade materials, and somebody's done this before. New people doing something of this delicacy always bunch the first few, or start at an end and mess up the pressure." She tapped the cut. He flinched. "Good, not too much anesthetic. Your pulse is going strong, and you don't feel like a corpse- you'll have an aspirin before bed."

"Rachel did it. Victor had the things at his house. His mom's into medical research." Gar had put the clues together- his mom had a lab, and medical supplies. It wasn't that hard. "Victor, it was just deduction. I wasn't snooping." The small defense was enough for his friend, and the matter was forgotten.

"So, this has to do with the secret that isn't illegal. You were in before two in the morning and did get help, so whatever you did or someone else did to get you this cut, I trust you." Shelia left the gauze off- the stitches would be fine. "Now, which of you want ice cream? We have a fresh half-gallon from the store."

"I'm going to try calling Rachel," Victor said, taking out his communicator. If his mom was that trustworthy, she could catch a glimpse of it. "Rachel? Are you there?"

Across town, in a bedroom with all the lights out, Rachel Roth had her head buried in the pillows. It didn't work. It never worked. She could still hear. But she wasn't trying to avoid the voice coming through his communicator. She could still hear other sounds.

"Rachel. This is Victor. Your com is on- I hear the static."

She couldn't pick up. What if he heard the background noises? She was safe in her room. She couldn't leave. She had to wait for the sobs and the pleading to stop. She had to wait for her father to become bored. Once he left for the night, to find some ritzy dive, then she could take care of her mother. She had heard a few tell-tale sounds. She would be doing stitches again, but this time it wouldn't be relaxing. The antiseptic that her father kept in his cabinets stung wounds, and the only anesthetic sprayed on in biting gobs of slightly-rancid gel. The sutures were the same quality as Victor's mother's were, a small favor. She'd probably need the gauze, too-

"Rachel," Kori's voice said through her link, only adding to the background white noise. "We were wondering if you could join us. Richard is not here, and no one else agrees with what he said. That was rude and hurtful. Will you not speak to any of us?"

She knew who was next, and wasn't surprised when a fourth source of background filler was added to the radio waves. "Rachel, Shelia would love to meet you. We have ice cream- we saved some for you." He spoke again, after a few seconds of dead air. "Rachel, if you don't want to come, that's fine."

There was enough static. They would not be able to hear the background noise that filled the house on nights like this, after all the neighbors' lights were out. "Hey, guys- I can't do anything tonight. Something came up. Christiana isn't feeling well- it's the pregnancy. She's only five weeks in, and it's getting to her." A lie. But- it was better that they think this than the alternative. They would hate her, if they knew the truth. They'd have to. Heroes always did the right thing, and she never got this right.

"We'll see you tomorrow, though?" Victor asked.

"Yeah. You'll see me tomorrow. Christiana needs me- I have to go." She clicked off her communicator. She would be at soccer, after a night of trying to make things right. She could blame any fatigue on the fight. It already seemed like weeks ago, feeling the nervous thrill of her first real fight. Her words were true- the pleading stopped, a few doors slammed, and a car roared off into the night. She stood, padding downstairs in worn slippers that were already traced with blood. Her mother needed help.

On the grittier side of town, three Titans shrugged. They had only heard Rachel- no background noise would go through. "Who wants seconds?" Gar asked, wielding an ice cream scoop like it was Excalibur.

"Me. I'm surprised you have anything normal in this house, with your tofu obsession."

"I will partake in the second dishing of the iced cream."

"Coming right up- and who said that this ice cream wasn't vegan?" Gar grinned. Victor had already enjoyed the first dish, even if he now did have a rather amusing expression on his face. "Come on, it's good for you. Besides, the chocolate is made with real soy milk and sugar." He was ready for Victor's retort, and Kori just laughed at the two of them. It was nice, having a normal night- maybe, all five Titans could be there for a reprise.