Scars

Starfire, Age 16-18

Set before Masks.

Requested Sunnyvalley.


I believe it really started the first time I saw Robin without a shirt.

We were sixteen and it was my very first trip to the beach. Raven had grudgingly taken me to the mall of shopping to aid me in my search for the appropriate article of clothing she had called a swim suit. She directed me away from the triangular shaped clothing she named bikinis to the more 'modest' one pieces. I found a pink floral one suit, which had a frill at the front between the breast and the back of it was cut away to resemble the bikini from behind.

I tried it on and it was deemed acceptable by Raven. Which was good, because at that stage I was still becoming used to the varying degrees of modesty humans insisted on. She insisted that I buy the woven sunhats too, although I now know it was because she did not wish to be the only one on the beach wearing one.

Cyborg organised the food, Beast Boy organised the games, running around in a pair of red shorts of board and a white substance on his face which I later learned was called zinc, and Robin grudgingly agreed to come, wandering out with a pair of green short of board, a white long sleeved shirt and his ever present mask.

At the time, I was not sure why he went bright red when he saw my new outfit, nor the stammering he underwent when he first tried to speak to me. Hindsight tells me it was because of his growing attraction for me.

We had a pleasant lunch at the beach, playing the various beach sports like the volleyball and the Frisbee with Beast Boy acting as the dog, while Raven sat under the shade of an umbrella and read a book. Cyborg demonstrated how to build the sandcastles and I had a most enjoyable time burying him in the sand.

So much water. My planet does not have vast stretches of open land, so I was most entranced by the waves. Robin explained to me they were caused by the gravity pull on the moon as it went around the Earth, and I nodded, giving him the precise mathematical formula of the gravitation pull required to create such waves.

Mathematics is, after all, universal. Force, motion, mechanics, it is all the same.

After he stammered about that while I stood in the water and watched it swell around my toes, he asked me if I wished to learn how to surf.

"Surf?"

"We get on a board and ride the waves. It's easy, I can show you."

I was confused. "Why would you wish to… ahh… it is the fun, yes?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's also a good test of balance skills."

"Very well, show me this surf."

Robin flashed me a grin. "Stay there," he said.

I turned my gaze back to the water, wondering how one would surf.

When Robin returned to me, he was only carrying one board. "We'll have to share," he said. "It's better to partner when you're just learning."

I nodded and then turned my head to look at him, my voice dying in my throat. He had removed his shirt.

It was the first time I had seen him so unclothed. My eyes automatically skipped over his chest.

Warriors on my planet often went without their shirts, even on some occasions without their pants. They proudly showed off their warrior physique, their various battle scars.

Robin was… quite well defined for so small and not yet mature human. I had not realised how much his uniform hid. Shapely chest muscles, defined stomach tone, his arms appeared to have abundant limb strength, but I knew that from the amount of time he spent using his arms to propel his body around.

There was a scar on his shoulder. A circular one, puckered and red, it looked to be still healing, perhaps a year old. There were other ones too, a long white line below his left nipple, a small burn on his stomach, but it was the one on his shoulder that drew my attention.

"Star?" Robin asked, frowning at me, and I suddenly became aware that he was talking.

"My apologies," I replied, flushing.

"What were you thinking about?"

I hesitated, then reached out to place my fingertips against the scar.

Robin shuddered and moved away from my touch, his expression darkening.

"My apologies," I said again. "Does it pain you still?"

Robin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No. More, the memory of it. Don't worry about it."

I would later discover that scar was a bullet wound from the Joker and the Batman had 'fired' Robin because he had been injured. I had not understood that, Robin was a warrior and a leader. Such injuries are commonplace.

Robin and I spent an enjoyable time doing the 'learning how to surf', which mostly consisted of my sitting on the board and Robin doing the paddling behind me while I kept my balance. At the time, I had not seen him laugh so much every time I fell from the board.

Robin never seemed to like his scars. I think he saw them as a burden, or a weakness, but I saw them as strength. We never discussed them until we became a couple two years later.

It was during one of our first make out sessions. He was becoming a little more daring, I suppose. More relaxed into being in a relationship and being intimate with me. Gloves, belt and cape always came off, my gloves included and we were starting to kick off our boots as well. Robin did like my legs. He liked to run his hand up the outside of my thighs on his way to my breast.

My back was to his bed as he kissed me, his hand over my breast and I ran my fingers across the small of his back, inside of his shirt, before I slipped them up higher, fingers to his curve of his spine. His shirt was riding up, our stomachs brushed together.

He broke away from my mouth, slightly panty and gave me a lopsided smile. "Do you want me to take my shirt off?" he asked.

Oh, to run hands along him without having to fight his shirt. "Yes, please."

He flashed me an unsure but daring grin. "Do I get to take yours off too? Or is that against the mask rules?"

I swallowed, my stomach suddenly all fluttery. "If you wish."

A wider grin now, as he crawled backwards until he could kneel between my legs and yanked his shirt over his head. He grabbed my wrist, eager, and pulled me so I was sitting so he could dig his fingers under the hem of my top. I lifted my arms so he could pull it off.

I could tell where his eyes were, even if I could not see them and in truth, my eyes were on his skin as well.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured his hand coming up to cup my breast over my bra.

I looked at his shoulder. The scar on it had faded since I had last seen it, now it was just a circular wound, a slightly different colour than the rest of his skin. I placed my fingertips against it, and this time he let me without drawing away. Although, that could have been because he was concentrating on my chest.

"Robin?" I asked.

He lifted his head. "Yes?"

"What is this?"

He turned his head and looked at his shoulder. "Gunshot wound when I was fifteen."

"Oh." I let my fingers drift down the front of his chest until I reached the long scar below his left nipple. "And this?"

"Um… knife wound from Two-Face."

I dipped lower to the burn and Robin stiffened. "This?"

"Acid burn from Poison Ivy… why do you want to know?"

I curled my hair around my ear and ducked my head to press my lips to the scar on his shoulder. "They show you are most courageous. You have more on your back." I knew because I had felt them.

"Um… yeah…"

"May I see?"

He looked confused. "Um… I guess so."

I lifted from the bed, floating around him so I could see his back. Robin lifted one leg to bend before him so he could drape his hands over it.

More scars on his back, mostly thin and nearly invisible white lines. Some deeper scratches or cuts, although there was another burn which he said was an ice burn from Mr Freeze. I ran my fingers over his back, tracing every line. This one was from a training exercise, where he had fallen through a window. That was one was from a lucky shot by Scarecrow. Another was from Penguin's umbrella.

There was a scar at the base of his neck, hidden in the hair line and I ran my fingers over it before I parted my hands to run them down each arm, pressing my chest against his back. He leant back into me, tilted his head back until it rested on my shoulder. "Do you like scars?" he asked.

"I like your scars," I said. "A warrior should display his scars for he has earned them."

"Oh. I always saw them as a weakness."

"They are not. You should proudly wear them for they are a part of you. You are strong and victorious and you are not afraid. I admire that about you."

He seemed embarrassed. "That's what I admire about you," he said. "You always see things so different from anyone else I've met."

"Do you have more?"

He chuckled. "I do, but they're in the mask free zone."

I was disappointed. "Perhaps another day then."

He reached back to take my head as he kissed me. "Perhaps."


Author's Note:

Things in the works: Control Freak Kiss, Chili Popcorn, Alternative Epilogue.