PREVIEW: On the Darker Side of Angels (Teen Titans)
(Sequel to: SINKING INTO SLADE and A HERO'S REDEMPTION)
Rating:
PG-13
Disclaimer: I own the words on this page and the USE of Troia in Teen Titans. Otherwise, I'm just borrowing from DC Comics
Author's Note: I couldn't resist. Now that I've built up all this Slade stuff, the relationship with Troia and the Titans (especially Robin) and introduced a potentially LETHAL villain known as Dark Angel, this had to be done. It absolutely HAD TO. Enjoy this preview.


ONE YEAR LATER...

He hadn't seen her coming.

She was fast, too fast, and through his V mask, he had a hard time tracking her movements, but instinct told him where to block and punch. A side kick was millimeters from connecting with his jaw, but he spun away at the last minute and heel kicked, his assailant blocking it with accuracy as his foot connected with metal.

Metal?

Flashes of images appeared in his head, and he smiled wide, recognizing why this "villain" seemed so familiar to him. He hadn't seen her in over a year, but he could tell, she'd gotten better. Way better. Almost as good as he was, but there was no comparison.

Troia couldn't hack it like he could.

He faked a right cross and went in with a left, catching her off guard. The blow sent her reeling into the side of a wall. Laughing, he held out a hand, and spoke. "Need a hand?"

"I almost had you."

"Donna, you weren't even close."

She accepted his grip, and he pulled her up, noticing details he hadn't seen before. Instead of her usual, red clad garb, it was replaced with a jumpsuit of black, starry outlines dotting everywhere and giving her an unearthly glow. A tight, sterling silver choke collar rested against her throat, star earrings in her ears, and her bracelets were new, engraved with stars and longer than the originals, now coming almost all the way down to her elbows. She was taller than she had been, shorter than him now by a few inches, and she had a more bright and cheery disposition that he hadn't seen in her before.

He was sure she was surprised to see him as well, now clad in a suit almost entirely of black, the outline of a great blue bird stretching from the middle of his chest to half way down his shoulders, the fowl's wingspan reaching to mid-bicep. His hair was no longer gelled; instead, it was shorter in the back, longer pieces falling in his eyes and over his new mask. A metallic utility belt rested on his waist, and the absence of his black and yellow cape made him look taller, stronger, more imposing. Metal gauntlets encircled his wrists, a token of the past, and he watched her smile sadly when she saw them.

"Looks like we both can't shake the past, huh?" She held up her wrists. "I got a pair of those too. Shackles. Just like he shackled us, right?"

He didn't want to think about it too much. Changing the subject, he gestured towards her, admiring her new uniform. "Nice clothes, Troia. I kind of miss the red and yellow though. And I keep wondering if you'd get lost on a starry night."

"Camouflage, my dear Richard. Camouflage." And she winked back at him, doing a once over with her eyes after. "And what about you? What am I going to call you now? Obviously you're not Robin anymore. By the way, nice digs yourself. Very macho. Compliments your abs a lot better than the red and green."

"Nightwing. You can call me Nightwing."

"I'll call you an idiot first. Why haven't you kept in touch with us?"

Us. Knowing full well who exactly she meant, he just shrugged, trying not to show regret. "I've been busy. Gotham doesn't protect itself when Batman and I aren't patrolling. And the new girl we've got, Batgirl? She's still a novice on cape and cowl duty. She can't hack it like we can."

Troia nodded, understanding. "You know that's a load of bull right?"

"Completely."

"Listen, Rich, this is probably the time where I'm supposed to go into one of those 'we need you' sort of speeches, but I'm going to cut to the chase." Her eyes subtly got harder, and she clenched a fist. "Slade's back in town. This time though, he's different. There's no fun and games when it comes down to it. He's changed, and it's not for the better."

Slade. The name still enraged and enflamed his anger, even after all this time. "What's he done now?"

"For one, he's not... afraid, to kill."

Time stopped. "Kill?"

"When you left, about two months later, Cyborg calls me on my Titans communicator. They wanted me back, give me another start. He said that they had made a mistake, and they just needed time to cool down. They wanted me back and, since I was in Star City, visiting Ollie at the time, he encouraged me to go. So I did, and I was surprised as anyone to see a couple new faces with Starfire, Raven, Cy and Beast Boy. One of them was a boy about our age, maybe a little less. Jericho was his name. He was mute, thanks to some accident that we couldn't even guess at, and he had the power to jump from mind to mind, taking control of other people's powers. We never knew his history until Slade came into town."

Nightwing was concerned. "What happened?"

"Slade was Jericho's father and he... killed him. Something had slowly been happening to Joe, and we never knew until it was too late. He'd been inhabited from souls that were slowly driving him insane. He finally just ran straight towards Slade's blaster just to end his life. Slade... was so different after that. It was like he didn't have anything else left to lose. After Joe, he also killed Phase and Caracol, two recruits we gained from the H.I.V.E. Academy."

"Besides the Slade angle, what does this have to do with me? Why did you really come here, Troia?"

She sighed, most likely recognizing how sharp he really was and how well he knew her. "We want you back, Rich. Raven's been the leader for awhile now, but she's no you. The Titans need someone who can be someone they could look up to, someone who knows their strengths and weaknesses and can put them to good use. We need someone who can keep a relatively level head, and grace under fire. We need you, Nightwing. Now, more than ever. So the real question is, are you going to help? Or am I going to have to drag you back there kicking and screaming? What's it going to be?"