IX: Not-Dick

"I'm not threatening you, I'm making a promise," I say.

Yeah, yeah, it's cliched. But the thing is, you don't take your threats as seriously as your take your vows. When I make a promise, I tend to keep it--- especially when it involves bodily harm.

Just another thing I learned from the Bat. I learned so much from him, it's actually kind of scary. I mean, what kind of sane man trains a nine year old to fight? And then takes him out into combat situations? In freaking Gotham!

Yeah, I guess my past is kind of scary.

Would you believe me if I told you that I love him?

But you're not thinking about my relationship with the Bat. You're thinking about what I just said, and what it means. Looking in your eyes, I see the wheels turn in your mind. Great, rusty, rumbling wheels.

"I look forward to it," you say.

Such pretty violet eyes you have. Sometimes I wish that I could just tear them from your head and keep them. It'd spare the world some trouble, wouldn't?

Oh, don't mind that side of me. That's not-Dick. Not-Dick sometimes likes to say things like that. He's a little crazy, if you ask me.

"Is that some sort of challenge?"

If it's a challenge to fight, you're going to lose. You know that, don't you? You'd better. I trained you. Don't forget that the people on Azarath are total pacifists.

I trained you. Me. Any attempt at fighting me... I know you like the back of my hand. I'd be able to block any move you made before you could make it.

And don't bother trying to say that you could do the same. You're not as competent as I am when it comes to hand to hand. I hate to say it, but it's God's honest truth.

"It's not a challenge, it's the truth."

You're mocking me.

I don't say anything. I don't have to. There's really not all that much to say, is there?

We know each other so well. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't need to take off my mask for you to see my face. You probably know all the angles, the way my skin feel. What my eye color is.

It's blue, by the way. Glacier blue. You did hear that, didn't you? Did your psychic powers or empathy or whatever get that?

"What's the matter, Robin? Bat got your tongue?"

Aw, damn. You mocked me. Again.

"What's the matter, Raven, Beast Boy controlling your tongue? Or maybe Trigon?"

Zing. Ooooh, that hurt, didn't it? You totally deserved that. You know you did. Mocking me. Mocking me. I trained you.

"I guess the stress of Batman's mind control training's getting to you. Making you cranky. It's hard work, being a myrmidon, isn't it?"

Oookay, straight back at me. But whatever. I guess the third mockery really is the charm. Well, you know what? That's fine. It's totally fine. I'm cool.

'Cos you know what? You can feel free to mock me.

After all, who's going to be smashing your face in to save the world?