I Already Have A Father ...

Author's Note: I don't own the Teen Titans ... however, Thomas is mine ... mkay?

Curiosity Killed The Secret

"And ... that is ... how ... kinetic energy ... can be ... transferred ... into ... heat! Have you all got that down?" The room filled with groans and grumbles. Physics lessons always dragged.

"Miss? Miss? I have a few questions on that course work you set us last week," The teacher, a young, dark haired woman who wore thick black glasses and fitted feminine suits, poked her head up from her desk and looked toward the voice. A young, blonde girl had her hand up. She had been christened Lucee Summers, and was currently the girlfriend of Thomas Grayson (hey, spelt it the American way this time!), and future prom queen. She had a pair of shinney pink shades rested upon her loosely tied hair, and wore a silver leaf pendant around her neck. The teacher, Miss. Roberts, removed her glasses and placed them on her desk.

"Well Miss. Summers, perhaps me and you should talk about that after class?" Lucee nodded and smiled in appreciation and Miss. Roberts addressed the rest of the class. "And remember, any of you finding it hard with your course work in my lessons should come to me. It is my job remember, any queries you may have and I'd be happy to go over them with you," A few faces then looked immensely relieved. Thankfully, Thomas heard the nicest sound of the day. The bell rang through the speakers and everyone placed their notes and equipment into the bags, ready to leave. "Remember! Any questions!" Miss. Roberts said, over the rushing of eager bodies escaping her class.

"Luc? I'll meet you at the canteen kay?"

She pecked him on the cheek with her smooth lips. "Kay Tom."

Thomas smiled briefly toward the teacher who nodded and he walked to the canteen, greeting friends on the way.

When he'd finally purchased his meal, which consisted of a tuna-salad, an apple and a raspberry yoghurt, he'd already been accompanied by his three closest friends. His best friend, Robert Hunter, a tall, well built jock with a new girl on his arm every time he greeted Thomas, was sat predictably with another woman. This time it was a tall, dark long haired beauty queen named Sarah. Thomas barely knew her and didn't really consider her a 'friend'. Robert had his heavy hand draped around her shoulders and she was desperately trying to pry it away from her as it was weighing her down. Thomas laughed to himself at this. Robert, was a self centered pig who was generally the nicest guy Thomas had ever met. The others were Grace Williams, a green eyed, medium built fitness fanatic who hoped to one day run in the olympics and Andy Houseman, another generally nice guy who wore is heart on his sleeve. He had olive coloured eyes, tanned clear skin and dark chocolate coloured hair. "Hi guys," Thomas said, sitting down with them.

"Yo man. Where's Luc?" Robert questioned, Sarah still unsuccessfully trying to remove his arm from her shoulders.

"Talking her course work over with Miss. Roberts,"

Robert whistled "Mmm, man that Miss.Roberts is hhhhott!" He received a sharp slap on the chest from Sarah. "But, of course looks like a dog compared to you babe,"

Thomas shook his head, taking a fork out and poking his unwanted salad.

"Hey Tom you look tired. Everything ok?" Grace asked concerned, placing a pasta chunk into her mouth.

"Yeah man is Daddy still keeping you up?" Robert said.

Thomas smirked and threw his scrunched up napkin at Robert who playfully tossed it back. "Nah, not really," He lied.

'C'mon, there must be something on this guy'. Dick racked his brain for any clue he'd missed on Slugsby. He smacked his leg in frustration and sighed, leaning back on his large black leather chair. 'Bruce would have known what this guy had on his toast.' Dick thought, mentally torturing himself without the knowledge he so desperately craved.

"Penny?"

"Yes Sir?"

"Get Jayne here pronto please?"

"But sir, you've got a meeting with the mayor in twenty minutes. I don't think you'll ha-"

"Wait wait wait ... err, what did you just say?" His attention fully fixed upon the secretary. Her eyes wandered. He'd forgotten. This wasn't going to be pleasant. As usual, her neck would be on the line for 'forgetting to inform him' of the mayor's meeting.

"Err, meeting with Mayor Brown ... 1 pm?"

"Penny!" Dick reached for his brown jacket collecting information and equipment, ready to meet Mayor Brown. "It's quarter too now! How could you forget to tell me!"

She rolled her eyes. "I'll get you a car."

"You wanna come in for a drink Tom?" School had ended and as usual, Thomas had walked his girl home.

"No thanks darl, I'm kinda beat,"

"Ok," She smiled. It worried her that he wasn't getting enough rest and an opportunety to let him sleep didn't arise frequently. She decided to pursue this. She placed her hands on his shoulder's and turned him around before kissing him on the cheek. "Well! You better get going! If your tired, better rest that beat little head of yours!"

"My head little?"

"You know what I mean! Now Thomas, I'll see you tomorrow! Bye!" She ran inside the house, blew him a kiss and slammed the deep red door shut. Thomas was stood, dumbfounded at the foot of her front garden. scratching his head.

"Woah."

"WHAT!! What do you mean there is no improvement on the Slugsby investigation Grayson?"

Dick stood in front of Gotham Mayor, a tall thin man in his early fifties, with light blonde, almost grey, thinning hair.

"Well I, sir, I just haven't found anything new yet. But I'm working on it,"

The Mayor poked Dick's firm chest fiercely, sending his body slightly swaying backward. "WELL!" Poke. "Get," Poke. "A," Poke "Move on!"

"Sir, with all due respect, I am trying to,"

"Trying! I want results Grayson!" Dick lost his nerve.

"Look Mayor Brown, as I said, with all due respect, I haven't ever failed to bring a criminal to justice under your seat of Mayor and Slugsby will not be any exception, I can assure you,"

Mayor Brown softened. He looked at the man in front of him. He'd known Dick through all of his career and he liked him. He observed the man in front of him. He did look tired. The colour grey seemed to consume and invade his pale skin and he looked agressive. Very unlike the Richard Grayson he knew. "Alright Grayson. But the public are getting anxious. They want results too,"

"I know sir. I know."

"Dad," Thomas growled. Dishes and coffee cups were piled in the sink. Papers and document were scattered on the floor and laundry was dotted randomly over furniture. He threw his school bag hard on the wooden floor and slammed the door hard. He wasn't getting any rest soon. On his father's desk was a note. He picked it up.

'Tom. Gotta go and work late in the office. Nothing in fridge, fix up some fries in freezer. Err, sorry about mess.
Dad.'

Thomas's face darkened and he scrunched up the note and aimed for the bin. Direct hit. He went to the sink and let the water run, splashing onto the dishes. Then he decided to tidy up some of the paper on his father's desk and the floor. As he tided, underneath the paper was a upside down photo frame. He looked cousiously at the turned frame. He reconsigned that frame instantly. He placed a hand over it, picking it up gently. He turned it over. His mother starred back at him. It was a grey photo of his mother when she was modeling. Her long hair hung loosely over her smooth, glowing skin. Her eyes were directly looking into the eyes of the on looker.

"Why'd you have to die Mom?"

He gently took the photo in his palm and decided to place it back where it belonged. On the dressing table of his mother's. In her room. In his father's room. He walked up the stairs, into his father's room. He was never allowed into his father's room, even when he asked, he was never granted permission, but this was important. He had a reason. He opened the door slowly. The curtains were closed and the room was dark and stuffy. The bed wasn't made and on the walls were dozens of pictures of happy family moments. Moments like the time he and his mother and father went the forest and his father had pretended to be a big gorilla, chasing the three year old boy in and out of the trees. He smiled at the photo and turned. Clumsily he tripped on a pair of creased jeans that belonged to his father and the photo fell out of his hand, smashing to the floor, close to his father's bed. He sighed and went to pick up pieces of broken glass.

"Oww! Shit," Thomas winced as a small splinter of glass embedded itself into his finger. He placed it into his mouth, stopping the deep blood leaking from it. As he did so he noticed a small cardboard box under his father's double bed. It had a piece of black shinney material hanging off one of it's sides. Curiosity consumed Thomas, and he reached for the box. Inside was what looked like some party costume and odd photos. As he sat looking at the photo's he saw five teenage people, laughing and joking. One boy was small and looked green. Another looked like some kind of robot and another dark haired girl looked angry at him, and not amused to having her photo taken. But Thomas was concentrating upon a red headed, strangely dressed female and a dark haired masked boy. His mouth went dry as he looked upon the legendary Teen Titans. His father had talked about this often in his stories when he was small, but why did he have a picture of them under his bed? Then he looked hard at the red head and the masked boy. "Dad?" He said out loud, even though there was no one to hear him. "Robin? The boy wonder?? No way,"

Then his eyes wondered to the black shinney material that had been draped over the box. He grabbed it, opening it carefully. He looked in disbelief at the trademark 'R'. His eyes raced and his heart pumped hot blood around his body. A bead of warm sweat fell down his brow as a smaller piece of cloth fell onto his lap. He gently dropped the costume and placed his hand on the cloth. His hands shook as he turned the cloth around to reveal two white eyes looking at him. A mask.

"See sir, heh heh, I got it for you!" A skinny man dressed in old, dirty clothes and worn boots, stoked his hands in front of a stronger, smartly dressed well built man.

"Very good. I am impressed. Now, get out of my site before I do something you'll regret,"

"Huh? I d-ont understand. What about my money!"

"I'm warning you Slugsby. Get, out,"

"Wilson! You dirty rotten fuc-BANG!"

Terry Slugsby, the thief who Richard Grayson had been hunting for months would finally be found. His body, floating in the Gotham City sewage line. Dead. Smoke, steamed from the fired weapon held by the large man.

He taped the body with his foot. No movement. "I have no time to waist on people like you Slugsby. Grayson however," He turned to a large screen, dotted with twenty or so separate television screens. Each screen flickered once or twice, until finally showing images of Richard Grayson, through his life. Pictures of his days as Robin, Nightwing, and Gotham's number one detective. "You wasted all of my time for far too long. Now, it's my turn to end your time. Finally, Robin, Slade will be haunting your nightmare's once again, My bird."