"Matron!" David hollered. "Robin's fighting again!"
"Again?" she said. The towheaded orphan nodded so violently she was sure his head would bobble right off. "I'll be right there, dear." Matron, whose real name was Elizabeth, closed her desk and followed David.
As usual, a crowd of children had gathered to watch Robin fight. This time the bane of the plucky five-year-old's wrath was a chunky eight-year- old by the name of Norman.
Elizabeth reached over and picked up Robin. "Fight's over," she said. "Go back to what you were doing." The children scattered as one of the other workers took the wailing Norman by the hand. Robin didn't say anything, but gritted his small teeth and kicked Elizabeth's thigh. She didn't say anything either until they were in the safety of Elizabeth's small office.
She set him down on her desk. "All right, Robin," she said. "What was it this time?"
The little boy looked down. "He said my mother was a hooker," he said in a tiny voice. Two big tears rolled dripped from his scarred eyes, fogging up his thick glasses. Elizabeth stroked his dark hair away from his forehead. "It's all right, little one," she soothed. Robin locked his skinny arms her neck and sobbed. She let him cry for a little while, then set him back on the desk. "I'll get you cleaned up, and then it's up to your dorm for you, Robin." He nodded and bravely withstood the sting of hydrogen peroxide. Elizabeth patted the top of his head and sent him to his room.
She sighed as she put away the brown plastic bottle. Robin was a holy terror; there was no doubt about that. But there was something about him that saddened her. Maybe it was just his appearance- his wide blue eyes strangely devoid of lashes, the scars crisscrossing his temples, the thick glasses, his startlingly pale skin against his black hair. He was one of the smallest children in the whole orphanage, and yet one of the toughest. She sighed again as the phone startled her out of her thoughts.
"Hello. Saint Patrick's Orphan's Home," she said. "Elizabeth Newton speaking."
"I'm calling about the mentor program," a deep male voice said.
Elizabeth twined the phone cord around her fingers. "That's wonderful, sir," she said.
"But only if I can have a certain child."
"Which one?" she asked, the cord cutting off her circulation.
"The small boy with the glasses."
"Robin?" she said.
"Is that the boy's name?" the voice asked.
"Yes," Elizabeth said. "He has no last name; the state gave him Patricks, the last name given to foundlings."
"I would like to have Robin Patricks to mentor, then," the man said. "My name is Nikolai Laren."
*****
Robin folded his arms across his skinny body. "No," he said flatly. "I don't want to go."
"Why not?" Elizabeth asked. The little boy was perched in the chair across from her desk, his legs dangling above the floor.
"He's an ax murderer," Robin said.
"And you know that how?" Elizabeth challenged. He opened his mouth to argue and then snapped it shut. "See? Just go once, Robin. Promise to be on your best behavior."
"Okay," the child answered sulkily. Elizabeth took him by the hand and led him into the main office of the orphanage.
"Mr. Laren, this is Robin Patricks. Robin, this is Mr. Laren," she introduced.
"It's nice to meet you, Robin," Mr. Laren said.
The little boy stuck out his tongue and hid behind Elizabeth's skirt.
"Robin!" she exclaimed.
"It's all right," Mr. Laren said with a wave of his hand. "It's natural for him to suspicious of me."
Elizabeth knelt in front of the boy. "Be very good, Robin," she warned. He nodded, his glasses slipping down his nose. She adjusted them for him and patted his cheek as she sent him out the door.
*****
Robin was silent as they walked down the street. Nik smiled. He'd expected that. The little boy was fierce, that was certain. Perfect for the task he wanted to the child to someday assume. "Have you ever heard of martial arts, Robin?" he inquired.
The boy started to shake his head, then his eyebrows knitted together and he nodded.
Nik nearly laughed at the child's obstinacy. "Then I'm sure you know it's a way of fighting," he said. Robin perked up. "Good fighting, though. Fighting to protect, not to damage."
"What does that mean?" he asked.
Nik took Robin by the hand. "You'll see," he said. He pushed open the glass door to the dojo, a blast of air conditioning slapping them in their faces.
Robin stared, wide-eyed. The dojo was one large room, with mirrors and a wood floor. There were posters and trophies everywhere, describing different tournaments and competitions. "What is this?" he asked, poking a gold trophy.
"I am going to teach you martial arts," Nik said simply. "You will understand later. But now- you will learn."
*****
Robin slid his glasses up his nose and parried his mentor's blow. "Ha!" he shouted. "I got you this time!"
Nik grinned. "Not so fast," he said. He shot out and whapped Robin straight to the floor. "I believe I win that one."
Robin made a face and popped back up, attacking and launching back into the fight. At twelve years old, he had progressed rapidly and flourished under Nik's attention, training, and praise. He still wasn't very tall, and was incredibly thin for his age. But his scrawny body hid a tough fighter's heart. "Ha!" Robin shouted. "I win!"
Nik laughed. Robin had managed to pin him down. The boy shouted in victory, his voice cracking and his glasses slipping. "You did indeed," he said. "I believe you are nearly ready."
"Ready for what, Sensei Nik?" Robin asked.
"You will see," Nik said, his tone mysterious.
*****
Nik stepped into his friend's office. "Are you here?" he called.
"Of course, Nikolai." The answering voice was as calm and gravelly as ever. It hadn't changed a bit since their college days, when they competed in the same dojo. Nik walked further into the shadows. "Is your pupil almost ready?"
"Almost," he said.
"Good," his employer purred. "He has done well in these past years."
"Sir," Nik began. "Do you think you could tell me what you have planned for the boy?"
The man glanced back at him, his face blank beneath his mask. "Perhaps," he said. He stood, stretching his long legs encased in metal. "I could not simply kill him. I want him to suffer."
"Kill?" Nik stammered. "Suffer?"
"Yes," he said coolly. "I want him to suffer like he made my Lark suffer. I want him to suffer until he dies." The man retreated into the shadows. "His thirteenth birthday is approaching. This Tuesday, in fact. On that day, I want you to bring him here. I will officially adopt him- under a different name, of course. I will train him even harder. He will become physically my equal, my heir. And then I will fight him to the death."
"Robert," Nik whispered. "Why would you kill the child? Who is Lark?"
"I have not heard that name in a long time, Nik. From now on you must call me.Slade."
*****
Robin blinked. "What are you doing here?" he tried to say, but there was a hand over his mouth.
"Be quiet," Nik whispered. "I'm taking you away from here. Just trust me, Robin." He picked up the twelve-year-old boy easily. Too tired to argue, Robin drooped back to sleep.
He awoke for real four hours later, only to find he was on a train. "Where am I?" he yawned.
Nik was watching anxiously out the window. "We're headed to Oregon," he said. "You'll be safe there."
"Safe from what?" Robin asked. "Why did you take me away from the orphanage?"
"It's for your own good, Robin," Nik said, his voice strained. "Just trust me."
"But Elizabeth will be worried," Robin objected. "Can't I write and-"
"No," Nik said, cutting him off. "You cannot tell anyone back home where you are. I can't risk letting you be found."
Robin opened his mouth to argue again, but Nik was resolute. Robin curled up on the bench to sleep again.
*****
The train's final stop was at a town in western Oregon. Nik left Robin with his sister Samantha, who lived in a small house downtown. "Stay with Samantha," Nik instructed. He thrust a letter into Robin's hands. "Read this after I've left. It will explain the things you need to know." Then he walked away, leaving Robin in a strange town with a strange girl.
Robin flopped on his bed in his new bedroom. Samantha was very nice, considering her prodigal older brother had randomly shown up, left a teenage boy with her to look after, and then vanished again. He slid his finger under the flap of the envelope and pulled out the letter.
Author's Note: Ooh, cliffhanger!! Don't worry, I'll write more soon!
Know-it-all-san, you are a meaniehead party-pooper and deserve to be whipped with wild onions. I know quite well the so-called "real" history of the Teen Titans. In case you noticed, I did use some "real" facts. Okay, so the only one I really used was Cyborg's last name Stone, but that's okay. Some of the original comic book stuff was a little too.well, not me. (Beast Boy's name is GARFIELD?!?! Someone, please shoot me.) However, I am not writing about the comic books. I'm writing about the new animated show, where the only real cemented facts we have are that Raven has issues with her freaky-looking father, Cyborg used to be fully human, and Slade has hair that looks an awful lot like Robin's. So I am coming up with my own material. So *pppbht* on you!! But Kittengrl39, you are my new best friend!!! You are so sweet to stand up for me!! I dedicate this chapter to you! Thank you for your defense and for your kind compliments! I am greatly in your debt.
"Again?" she said. The towheaded orphan nodded so violently she was sure his head would bobble right off. "I'll be right there, dear." Matron, whose real name was Elizabeth, closed her desk and followed David.
As usual, a crowd of children had gathered to watch Robin fight. This time the bane of the plucky five-year-old's wrath was a chunky eight-year- old by the name of Norman.
Elizabeth reached over and picked up Robin. "Fight's over," she said. "Go back to what you were doing." The children scattered as one of the other workers took the wailing Norman by the hand. Robin didn't say anything, but gritted his small teeth and kicked Elizabeth's thigh. She didn't say anything either until they were in the safety of Elizabeth's small office.
She set him down on her desk. "All right, Robin," she said. "What was it this time?"
The little boy looked down. "He said my mother was a hooker," he said in a tiny voice. Two big tears rolled dripped from his scarred eyes, fogging up his thick glasses. Elizabeth stroked his dark hair away from his forehead. "It's all right, little one," she soothed. Robin locked his skinny arms her neck and sobbed. She let him cry for a little while, then set him back on the desk. "I'll get you cleaned up, and then it's up to your dorm for you, Robin." He nodded and bravely withstood the sting of hydrogen peroxide. Elizabeth patted the top of his head and sent him to his room.
She sighed as she put away the brown plastic bottle. Robin was a holy terror; there was no doubt about that. But there was something about him that saddened her. Maybe it was just his appearance- his wide blue eyes strangely devoid of lashes, the scars crisscrossing his temples, the thick glasses, his startlingly pale skin against his black hair. He was one of the smallest children in the whole orphanage, and yet one of the toughest. She sighed again as the phone startled her out of her thoughts.
"Hello. Saint Patrick's Orphan's Home," she said. "Elizabeth Newton speaking."
"I'm calling about the mentor program," a deep male voice said.
Elizabeth twined the phone cord around her fingers. "That's wonderful, sir," she said.
"But only if I can have a certain child."
"Which one?" she asked, the cord cutting off her circulation.
"The small boy with the glasses."
"Robin?" she said.
"Is that the boy's name?" the voice asked.
"Yes," Elizabeth said. "He has no last name; the state gave him Patricks, the last name given to foundlings."
"I would like to have Robin Patricks to mentor, then," the man said. "My name is Nikolai Laren."
*****
Robin folded his arms across his skinny body. "No," he said flatly. "I don't want to go."
"Why not?" Elizabeth asked. The little boy was perched in the chair across from her desk, his legs dangling above the floor.
"He's an ax murderer," Robin said.
"And you know that how?" Elizabeth challenged. He opened his mouth to argue and then snapped it shut. "See? Just go once, Robin. Promise to be on your best behavior."
"Okay," the child answered sulkily. Elizabeth took him by the hand and led him into the main office of the orphanage.
"Mr. Laren, this is Robin Patricks. Robin, this is Mr. Laren," she introduced.
"It's nice to meet you, Robin," Mr. Laren said.
The little boy stuck out his tongue and hid behind Elizabeth's skirt.
"Robin!" she exclaimed.
"It's all right," Mr. Laren said with a wave of his hand. "It's natural for him to suspicious of me."
Elizabeth knelt in front of the boy. "Be very good, Robin," she warned. He nodded, his glasses slipping down his nose. She adjusted them for him and patted his cheek as she sent him out the door.
*****
Robin was silent as they walked down the street. Nik smiled. He'd expected that. The little boy was fierce, that was certain. Perfect for the task he wanted to the child to someday assume. "Have you ever heard of martial arts, Robin?" he inquired.
The boy started to shake his head, then his eyebrows knitted together and he nodded.
Nik nearly laughed at the child's obstinacy. "Then I'm sure you know it's a way of fighting," he said. Robin perked up. "Good fighting, though. Fighting to protect, not to damage."
"What does that mean?" he asked.
Nik took Robin by the hand. "You'll see," he said. He pushed open the glass door to the dojo, a blast of air conditioning slapping them in their faces.
Robin stared, wide-eyed. The dojo was one large room, with mirrors and a wood floor. There were posters and trophies everywhere, describing different tournaments and competitions. "What is this?" he asked, poking a gold trophy.
"I am going to teach you martial arts," Nik said simply. "You will understand later. But now- you will learn."
*****
Robin slid his glasses up his nose and parried his mentor's blow. "Ha!" he shouted. "I got you this time!"
Nik grinned. "Not so fast," he said. He shot out and whapped Robin straight to the floor. "I believe I win that one."
Robin made a face and popped back up, attacking and launching back into the fight. At twelve years old, he had progressed rapidly and flourished under Nik's attention, training, and praise. He still wasn't very tall, and was incredibly thin for his age. But his scrawny body hid a tough fighter's heart. "Ha!" Robin shouted. "I win!"
Nik laughed. Robin had managed to pin him down. The boy shouted in victory, his voice cracking and his glasses slipping. "You did indeed," he said. "I believe you are nearly ready."
"Ready for what, Sensei Nik?" Robin asked.
"You will see," Nik said, his tone mysterious.
*****
Nik stepped into his friend's office. "Are you here?" he called.
"Of course, Nikolai." The answering voice was as calm and gravelly as ever. It hadn't changed a bit since their college days, when they competed in the same dojo. Nik walked further into the shadows. "Is your pupil almost ready?"
"Almost," he said.
"Good," his employer purred. "He has done well in these past years."
"Sir," Nik began. "Do you think you could tell me what you have planned for the boy?"
The man glanced back at him, his face blank beneath his mask. "Perhaps," he said. He stood, stretching his long legs encased in metal. "I could not simply kill him. I want him to suffer."
"Kill?" Nik stammered. "Suffer?"
"Yes," he said coolly. "I want him to suffer like he made my Lark suffer. I want him to suffer until he dies." The man retreated into the shadows. "His thirteenth birthday is approaching. This Tuesday, in fact. On that day, I want you to bring him here. I will officially adopt him- under a different name, of course. I will train him even harder. He will become physically my equal, my heir. And then I will fight him to the death."
"Robert," Nik whispered. "Why would you kill the child? Who is Lark?"
"I have not heard that name in a long time, Nik. From now on you must call me.Slade."
*****
Robin blinked. "What are you doing here?" he tried to say, but there was a hand over his mouth.
"Be quiet," Nik whispered. "I'm taking you away from here. Just trust me, Robin." He picked up the twelve-year-old boy easily. Too tired to argue, Robin drooped back to sleep.
He awoke for real four hours later, only to find he was on a train. "Where am I?" he yawned.
Nik was watching anxiously out the window. "We're headed to Oregon," he said. "You'll be safe there."
"Safe from what?" Robin asked. "Why did you take me away from the orphanage?"
"It's for your own good, Robin," Nik said, his voice strained. "Just trust me."
"But Elizabeth will be worried," Robin objected. "Can't I write and-"
"No," Nik said, cutting him off. "You cannot tell anyone back home where you are. I can't risk letting you be found."
Robin opened his mouth to argue again, but Nik was resolute. Robin curled up on the bench to sleep again.
*****
The train's final stop was at a town in western Oregon. Nik left Robin with his sister Samantha, who lived in a small house downtown. "Stay with Samantha," Nik instructed. He thrust a letter into Robin's hands. "Read this after I've left. It will explain the things you need to know." Then he walked away, leaving Robin in a strange town with a strange girl.
Robin flopped on his bed in his new bedroom. Samantha was very nice, considering her prodigal older brother had randomly shown up, left a teenage boy with her to look after, and then vanished again. He slid his finger under the flap of the envelope and pulled out the letter.
Author's Note: Ooh, cliffhanger!! Don't worry, I'll write more soon!
Know-it-all-san, you are a meaniehead party-pooper and deserve to be whipped with wild onions. I know quite well the so-called "real" history of the Teen Titans. In case you noticed, I did use some "real" facts. Okay, so the only one I really used was Cyborg's last name Stone, but that's okay. Some of the original comic book stuff was a little too.well, not me. (Beast Boy's name is GARFIELD?!?! Someone, please shoot me.) However, I am not writing about the comic books. I'm writing about the new animated show, where the only real cemented facts we have are that Raven has issues with her freaky-looking father, Cyborg used to be fully human, and Slade has hair that looks an awful lot like Robin's. So I am coming up with my own material. So *pppbht* on you!! But Kittengrl39, you are my new best friend!!! You are so sweet to stand up for me!! I dedicate this chapter to you! Thank you for your defense and for your kind compliments! I am greatly in your debt.