A/N: Um . . . my reference to the Author's Note in Chapter Three . . . That should have been Chapter Five . . . . I can't count. I'm a communication major.

Firestorm
Teen Titans/Batman: The Animated Series
By Amos Whirly

Chapter Nine: "Promise"

Barbara looked up as someone knocked on the spare bedroom door.

"Come in," she called.

The door swung open, and Bruce slid into the light inside the room. "You all right?" His voice sounded less dark outside of his cowl.

"Fine," she answered cheerily, rubbing the bandage on her left forearm.

Bruce moved toward her and sat on the bed beside her, twining his fingers and hunching his back.

"She didn't say what she wanted, did she?" he asked.

"No," Barbara shook her head, her red hair bouncing with the motion.

Bruce tapped his thumbs together, deep in thought.

"Have you found anything on the last Titan?"

"The computer is scanning," he responded. "Tim's watching it. I wanted to check on you."

"Thanks for your concern," she blushed slightly and stood. "I'm fine."

He watched her move toward the window. She was walking stiffly.

"You sure?"

She turned back and smiled. "I landed crooked, Bruce. That's all."

He rose and stood beside her, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder as they stared out the window together.

"Where are the Titans?" she asked.

Bruce chuckled at the back of his throat. "Beast Boy is giving Alfred a lesson on cooking with tofu."

"Oh, boy. And Cyborg?"

"Trying to convince Alfred to cook something with meat."

Barbara absolved into giggles and leaned against him. "Poor Alfred."

"Don't worry about Alfred, Barb. He knows how to handle hungry young men."

Barbara searched his face for a moment. "Where's Starfire?"

"She went to find Dick."

"And where is Dick?"

She watched a muscle clench in his jaw. He did not answer.

"Bruce," she whispered, "you can't stay angry at him forever. Just like he can't stay angry with you forever."

A small, sad smile crossed his lips. "That's where you're wrong, Barb. I taught him never to forget."

He was obviously deep in thought. Starfire watched his stiff figure perched on the railing on his balcony, the wind tossing his long dark hair, his blue eyes intense and focused. She approached quietly, though knowing he was very much aware of her presence.

"Yeah, Star?"

She jumped at his voice, crossed her arms, and leaned against the railing beside him.

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"Of what? Of Raven?"

"Sure."

"Nightwing—"

She stopped as one of his hands closed over her own, and she looked up at him. His blue eyes gazed unflinchingly into her face.

"Star," he said softly, "Dick."

"What?"

"Dick. My name is Dick."

She looked confused.

"It's not—You shouldn't call me Nightwing when I'm not in costume."

Starfire stuck out her lower lip and narrowed her eyes. "You are asking me to call you Dick."

"Yes."

"Not Nightwing."

"Right."

"Not Robin."

"That's right, Star."

"I am terribly confused," she tilted her head, her luminous green eyes distraught. "When I first arrived here, you told me to no longer refer to you as Robin but as Nightwing for that was now your name. Now you say that I should not call you Nightwing but Dick because that is your name. I do not understand this apparent lack of certainty concerning your person."

In spite of himself, Nightwing chuckled at her distress and swung his legs to the other side of the rail and stood up. "It's the whole superhero alter ego issue we've discussed before."

"So what am I to call you?" she wailed.

He chuckled again, took her arm, and guided her back into the manor. "Dick when I'm dressed like this. Nightwing when I'm not."

"I will do my best, Ni—uh—Dick."

He sat on the couch in his room and smiled to himself. "It's good to see Beast Boy and Cyborg again."

"Most certainly," she sat beside him. "I have missed them tremendously. You have as well." It was not a question.

"Yeah. I have."

"You seem ashamed to admit it."

He fell silent.

"I have been thinking," she laced her long, slender fingers together on her lap, "about our encounter with Warp all those many years ago."

"Warp," Nightwing murmured. "I remember."

Starfire drew her shoulders closer together. "Do you remember what I told you of my journey to the future? How the Titans had split and grown distant and sour and unfriendly?"

"What are you getting at, Star?"

"Warp told me that history cannot be changed. I thought that by coming back, by reuniting with all of you back then, that I had. We were together again, and the future I experienced could not have been accurate. Now I see, though, that history truly cannot be changed."

"What do you mean?"

She looked up at him, tears forming in her emerald eyes. "We are separated. Distant. Out of contact with each other."

"Starfire, stop," he leaned forward suddenly and set a hand on her knee, taking her other hand and forcing her to look at him. "Those two situations are completely different."

"How?"

"There's a big difference, Star, between growing apart and following different paths. And that's all that happened. We all chose different paths. We haven't grown apart. We've just – moved on. Cy wanted a family. Beast Boy wanted nature. You had to go back to Tamaran."

"And what of you? What did you want?"

He leaned back.

"I don't know," he admitted softly.

"I fear for Raven," Starfire wrung her hands. "For in that future I saw so long ago, she had lost her mind. The lack of friendship for her drove her mad. I am terrified that she will not be—not be—" Her voice trailed away.

"Star," Nightwing's eyes were closed, "I'll tell you right now the main difference between this future and the one you saw then."

"What?"

"You weren't there."

She furrowed her brows.

"When you chased after Warp and got sucked into that time portal, you left the present and were taken to the future. You weren't around in the past to affect our present, and in the future we fell apart." He smiled slightly. "You were the one who always kept us together."

"Then, it truly is my doing that the Titans have separated. This is a most grieving revelation."

"Star," he took her hand again, "we haven't separated. If we had, we wouldn't be talking to each other. We wouldn't have been willing to come together again. All we knew is that you asked us for help—," he hesitated before he continued, "and that we'd do anything you asked us."

"Anything?" she suddenly turned to him, her eyes hopeful.

"As if I could say no," Nightwing seemed to have taken an extreme interest in the carpet.

"Then, may I ask you something?" she squeezed his hand.

He closed his eyes.

"Would you share your darkness with me?"

He turned to her with a confused expression. "What?"

"I spoke with the girl-bat," Starfire did not release his hand. "She told me that human heroes oftentimes possess an element of darkness in their lives that dictates their actions."

Nightwing watched her eyes and slowly smiled.

"I ask you now, Dick," Starfire leaned toward him, "would you share this darkness with me? Would you allow me to truly be your friend?"

"You are my friend, Star."

"You are no one's friend," she countered. "You hide within the darkness of your heart and refuse to touch or be touched. You detest the Mr. Batman for his control of your life, but you have become very much like him."

"Friends are weakness."

"Friends are strength," she gripped his hand with both of her hands. "You knew this once. Do you not remember? The five of us were friends, and together we triumphed."

Starfire felt a thrill of hope as his hand softly squeezed back.

"You need not bear this darkness alone," she breathed with tear-filled eyes. "Share it with me."

He did not speak. The silence in the room was unnerving, but she waited patiently until his fingers squeezed again.

"I never took you to the circus," he whispered.

A knock sounded, and the door opened. Bruce stood in the shadows of the doorway, his expression, though unseen, undoubtedly grim. "I've got a lead."

"On Raven?" Nightwing sat up straighter.

"Yes. Pack your winter coat."

Bruce disappeared from the doorway, and Nightwing stood, though not relinquishing his hold on Starfire's hand. He pulled her up beside him and looked seriously down at her.

"We'll talk when this is over," he brushed the side of her face with the back of his hand. "I promise."

She nodded and followed him out the door.