Bright Line
Chapter Eleven: Consequent
Richard:
I hope you're feeling better. If something happened that you need to talk about, you can call me. You need to learn to be more responsible, but it wasn't my intention to upset you. I'm sorry you were sick.
Happy birthday. You should visit; Alfred misses you.
He didn't sign it, but he didn't need to. Robin knew. Just like he knew that while Bruce wasn't apologizing for him getting the flu (it drove Robin crazy when people responded to "I'm sorry" with "It wasn't your fault" when it was obviously being used to denote sympathy rather than apology), he was, on some level, apologizing for upsetting him. If he'd figured out how to interpret the man years ago, maybe they wouldn't have had so many problems.
This whole day was stupid; a useless waste of time, but the others wouldn't listen when he told them that there were more important things than his birthday. He'd slipped into his room to check his email before the "party," and was glad that he did. Even though it was slightly irrational because Bruce had no reason to apologize; if the results of their last ill-fated conversation were anybody's fault, it was Robin's. For the life of him, he still couldn't figure out what had made him break down like that. Raven had said that sometimes it didn't take much to send you over the edge when you had a lot of other things to deal with, but that didn't make any sense. Robin never cried.
He read the email twice, trying to figure out how much of it he should ignore. Bruce was obviously worried about him: he was only going to tolerate avoidance for so much longer and Robin did not want Batman to show up in California demanding to know what the problem was. The last line of the email kept catching his attention. He hadn't been home since September. It was almost like going away to college, except three years too early, and most people didn't preface college with yelling a lot of things they didn't mean. Robin could remember being on the plane for exactly twenty-three minutes when he realized exactly how much he didn't mean it, but of course by then it was too late.
He couldn't go home. It wasn't home to him anymore.
A sharp knocking on his door. More like hammering, really. "Oh, Fearless Leeeader? What kind of pizza do you want, are you sure we can't give you presents, and do you care if me and Terra are a little late tonight?"
Sighing, Robin closed the email, wondering why it was hard to be quite as annoyed with Beast Boy as he would have normally been. "Whatever everybody else wants, no you absolutely cannot get me presents and you guys can skip the whole thing if you want." He let the door slide open.
"One of these days, I'm going to prove that you're actually a robot cleverly disguised to look like a fifteen—whoops, sixteen—year old guy." Beast Boy poked him, as if expecting Robin to explode. Strangely, the touch didn't bother him. "Anyway, thanks. It's just that Terra asked me to go out with her, and she's hardly ever the one to ask to do something, and you didn't seem to mind so I thought…"
"Beast Boy, it's fine, really," he said, forcing a laugh. "I just want to get this over with."
"Yeah, we know: you hate people making a fuss over you. In other words, you're certifiably nuts." He started walking casually down the hall, and Robin followed, reasoning that he'd get dragged out of his room sooner or later, so he might as well skip the protesting.
"Sorry; I don't think it's contagious." Robin didn't like it, of course. There was a difference between earning people's respect as a leader and having them fawn all over you because it happened to be your birthday. In a way, it was almost like a loss of respect, and he was really starting to wish that he hadn't told them, on the first night that they'd gone out for pizza together when they were all sharing birthdays and favorite colors and whatever else Beast Boy could think of to ask everyone.
And besides, something about…well, it was the first time he'd had a birthday away from home, and it made him feel like he was doing something wrong, for some reason. Like how he'd felt at Christmas (which had been ridiculous because Bruce wasn't even religious and probably didn't care at all). It was almost guilt but not really.
"So…we're gonna take off, if that's okay, but we'll be back real early, alright?"
He nodded. "Sure; it's fine."
At that point, they reached the living room, and Raven's sharp voice indicated that she knew exactly what Beast Boy had been asking him, and that she wasn't happy. "I really don't see how it's fine. You think you can just leave as if this isn't important at—"
"It's not important," Robin interrupted curtly.
Raven rolled her eyes but smiled at him. "We know, Robin."
Covering the phone with his hand, Cyborg broke the silence to ask if they'd figured out what kind of pizza they wanted. As far as Robin was concerned, he could close his eyes and point to something on the list of toppings if he wanted to.
After demanding vegan pizza and enduring an incredulous look from Cyborg ("Why do you care if you're not even eating it?"), Beast Boy turned to Terra, who was leaning against the counter with an odd expression on her face, in clothing that was substantially less casual than usual. "You ready, babe?"
"Yeah!" She turned to Robin with a grin—a grin that looked…manufactured, somehow. "Thanks a ton, Robin, I knew you'd understand! We'll be back later, guys."
"I can't believe you're doing this," Raven muttered. She looked from Beast Boy to Terra, seeming to consider something. "Well, actually, I can."
Honestly, Robin was relieved when they finally left, because he'd take any excuse to have this day noticed just a little less. And besides, it would be just like Beast Boy to set up some kind of prank, and at least this way he was otherwise occupied.
Once the more hyperactive members of the team were gone, he realized why Starfire had been so quiet since he'd entered the living room. She was standing over the sink, studying something as if it might be the cure for cancer. And then, she shifted her weight and Robin saw what the something was. It was a wriggling, green mass of some translucent substance, and he could have sworn there were gray lumps in the middle that looked suspiciously like live animals…then he looked away and decided that he needed to forget that the most recent five seconds of his life had happened.
"Umm…Star? What's…that?"
A happy giggle forced him to turn back to her, though he kept his eyes on her face and not on whatever monstrosity she was holding. "Since such occasions as the anniversary of one's birth are celebrated here, I thought it would be appropriate to make some homemade glorg for you!"
"…Glorg?"
"The stuff she made for Terra when she first came to live with us, remember?" whispered Cyborg, who'd since finished ordering the pizza (Robin was starting to be very, very glad that Cyborg had ordered pizza).
He did remember. Sushi mixed with ice cream, she'd said. Robin didn't really trust a girl who'd spent her entire life starving when it came to the suitability of Tamaranian cuisine.
"Robin, might you wish to sample my cooking?"
He wondered if there was any possible way out of this one.
He'd had to eat the glorg. It was exactly as horrifying as he'd expected it would be. Robin had thanked Starfire, said it was delicious, and tried not to think about the fact that the gray things had seemed to be alive.
At the kitchen table, Raven was talking with Cyborg about an article she'd read yesterday, with Cyborg twirling a pizza crust along the edge of his plate. He was just enjoying the quiet, and hardly noticed when Starfire slipped around the couch to sit next to him.
"Has the anniversary of your birth been pleasant, friend?" There was something in her voice that wasn't normally there, and when Robin looked at her he could have sworn that he saw something…more than the bubble of happiness and unconquerable smile. Something confused and vulnerable and wondering.
He nodded. "Yeah, thanks again for the glorg—it was really…great." Reminding himself of countless nights of going without food and sleep, he managed to suppress the shudder.
She hesitated, then reached out to touch his shoulder briefly. "Is everything alright? You have not been yourself lately, and I have been concerned." She was halfway into the sentence before Robin realized that he hadn't flinched at the contact, and remembered that a few weeks ago, he would have.
It took him a moment to formulate an acceptable response, and he glanced briefly over at Raven, who'd obviously heard the question and smiled at him, almost imperceptibly. Then, he realized that Raven knew the answer, knew it before Robin even wrapped his brain around it. "Yeah, things have been tough lately…but I'm alright, now." It was one of the first true statements he'd said to Starfire in months, and she was more than smart enough to tell the difference between truth and lie—her expression proved that.
"That…is good to hear," she said, the relief filtering through her words like a physical entity. She scooted away from him self-consciously, looking in the direction of the kitchen table, quick enough that anyone who didn't have Robin's vision would have missed it. Robin wondered what she could have meant by that. Then, she broke the silence and interrupted the thought. "Might you wish to partake in a movie now that we have eaten?"
"Sure," said Robin. He could pretend they weren't doing it because of him, and besides, just being together with the team like this was…nice.
It took five minutes for the three of them to convince Robin that he had to choose the movie, even though he really didn't care as long as it wasn't one of those things that Terra liked to watch. Finally, he gave in and decided on Star Wars; he'd seen it, but Starfire hadn't, and she seemed quite eager to see how humans portrayed life on other planets.
Then, they couldn't find the remote.
They found three of them—just not the one for the DVD player. As usual. "I swear, if Beast Boy put it in the fridge or something…" Cyborg muttered as he overturned couch cushions. "About time he and Terra came home, too."
"It's fine," said Robin placatingly, smiling as Starfire poked her head under the couch.
The door slid open just as an excited squeak from underneath the couch indicated that Starfire had probably found what they'd been looking for. "I have located the correct remote for use of the DVD player!"
The look on Beast Boy's face indicated quite clearly that he couldn't care less about the correct remote for use of the DVD player. He waited a few moments, with Terra hovering behind him half-hidden, and then spoke, "Guys? Terra has something to tell you."
"About time y'all showed up," Cyborg said cheerfully. "We were about to give up—"
But he shouldn't be cheerful, he shouldn't, because Beast Boy had never looked like this in all the months Robin had known him. He looked like someone had crumbled his world into tiny pieces and stomped on them. And when the next words came out of his mouth, Robin wasn't at all surprised.
"Guys. Seriously. This can't wait."
Robin was up before he'd finished the sentence, because it didn't really matter what the words were: he'd known it was bad. Part of him was almost relieved. He didn't know how to react to situations where immediate planning wasn't absolutely required—and it was hard to get used to just sitting around doing nothing. At least this was something he was good at. Though the magnitude of Beast Boy's look was starting to convince him that he didn't really want to know.
"What happened, Beast Boy?"
"It's alright, you don't have to get up," he replied softly, taking Terra's hand and leading her over to stand in front of them. Robin was too perplexed to even point out that he was already up, so the statement had been redundant. "Like I said, Terra has something to tell you. All of you."
Terra gulped, standing there with bloodshot eyes and her shirt smeared with dried tears. "You guys, I…umm…I need to tell you something."
"Yes, we gathered that," said Raven. Behind him, she tapped him on the wrist, motioning for him to sit—somehow, the others had all ended up on the couch, waiting. He did, trying to keep his emotions in check so she wouldn't realize how worried he was, because even if she sensed it from Beast Boy and Terra, Robin didn't want to add to the problem. Sitting next to Raven helped a little, anyway. He couldn't tell if she was using her powers to calm him or if he just felt that way because it was Raven.
Robin watched Terra twist her hair around her fingers, face pale and splotchy, gulping down a breath of air as if she were a second grader about to give a book report that she hadn't practiced. When she finally spoke, the words started out senseless and only got worse. "Sorry. And umm, first of all, I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. I really do like you guys, and I didn't want to hurt you, or whatever, and I'm sorry."
Cyborg nodded encouragingly, from his seat next to Raven. "It's alright, kiddo; just tell us."
Terra looked straight at the floor at the base of the couch, somewhere between Cyborg and Starfire's shoes. "Well, it's about…Slade."
Robin's heart stopped beating.
Oh god. Oh god, oh god, that's what it was, that's what it was all along, she's been hiding this the whole time and I didn't see it, I couldn't see past my stupidity and my mistakes and my weakness and it's all my fault, everything—
He felt Raven's hand in his, firmly, grounding him and pulling him out of the broken record in his head that kept accusing him of failure, of negligence—and Robin almost wished that, just for that moment, Raven could be telepathic so he could just tell her what he was thinking, what it had to be…but she wouldn't allow his emotions to overpower both of them.
And she was right. He had to hear the whole story.
Terra didn't say anything else, so Starfire broke the silence from her position on the arm of the couch. "What about Slade?"
Leaning forward slightly so a curtain of blonde hair dropped over half of her face, Terra made a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob.
"Tell them, Terra," said Beast Boy humorlessly. Coils of ice wound themselves around Robin's stomach.
"I…I lied. Slade was…I did…" She sniffled and swabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. "I've been working for Slade. And I did…stuff with him. Like, really bad stuff. Like, did stuff you know?"
No. He didn't want to know. Because if he knew, it meant he'd failed on every level. Failed as a leader, an investigator, a friend—failed at everything. It had to be something else. Please let it be something else...
Beast Boy looked from one occupant of the couch to the other, apologetically. "What she means is—"
Raven jerked her hand away and was on her feet before he finished.
"I know exactly what she means," she spat, and Robin was glad that he couldn't see her eyes from this angle because he knew they were red. "That's it. You did, didn't you?"
"Umm…did what?"
"You slept with him," said Raven, and all the panic came rushing back as soon as she got the words out. "You slept with him, didn't you, you dirty whore. And you weren't sorry. You weren't sorry at all."
"Was too!"
"Now you're a lying whore."
Terra started to say something, but Raven hit her squarely in the face.
Robin didn't have time to wonder why she hadn't just used her powers, because Raven didn't hit people physically, wasn't a very good conventional fighter and didn't need to be, and why she was hitting her at all and why he wasn't stopping it . He couldn't focus on that right now, was too distracted by the horrible truth, the one that had been right in front of him for months now, because Raven was right about what Slade had done to Terra and it was all his fault.
Finally, Cyborg hauled her off of Terra, dragging her back and pinning her arms. "Raven! You have no right to accuse her of something like that!"
"The hell I do. I knew she'd done something. I knew it." She tried to twist out of Cyborg's grip with no success, and when he wouldn't let her go she said something else that made Terra cry even harder than she'd been crying, backing away to hide behind Beast Boy between strangled sobs. Raven had known something, and Robin had known, too, but they hadn't figured it out in time and now all of this was happening and Raven was going to kill Terra if he didn't do something because he could feel her powers burning just under the surface with a fire that terrified him—and Cyborg and Terra were talking and Starfire was getting upset but he couldn't focus, and why could he feel Raven's powers, that wasn't normal…
No. That was not the point. He had to set this right. So Robin pried himself off the couch and got between Raven and Terra, cringing at Raven's red eyes. "Stop it—Raven, stop it now!"
Raven immediately stopped struggling, upper arms resting limp in Cyborg's huge hands. She stared at him, the red vanishing into violet, expression returning to something that might be called neutral.
Taking a deep breath, Robin continued. "This isn't Terra's fault; it's mine."
"Robin, what the—"
"It is. I'm a horrible leader not to have known this would happen, not to have protected her." He took a step back, trying to address all of them at once, watching as Cyborg cautiously relaxed his grip on Raven. "Guys, I know how Slade manipulates people. That's all this was, and I didn't stop it when I should have." Turning to Terra, he felt a growing lump in his throat at her terrified face. "I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve this. It's…it's all my fault."
Terra opened her mouth, closed it, and put her face in her hands.
"Robin, this is most certainly not your fault! In truth…"
Starfire didn't get to finish because Beast Boy cut her off, stepping away from Terra slightly as he spoke. "Robin's right. He did the same thing, Raven, the same damn thing. He lied to us, he stole stuff for Slade, he even fought us. And I don't see you hitting him, huh?"
And it was true. It was. Everything Raven said—it all applied to him, it applied to him so much more than to Terra, because Terra hadn't known any better like he did, he'd been arrogant, selfish, horrible…
Raven managed to lurch one of her arms out of Cyborg's grasp, reaching out to grab Beast Boy by the shirt and barely missing, fingernails raking his forearm. "If you ever compare Robin's sacrifices to that whore fucking Metal-Face again…"
"And you will not speak about Terra in such a manner!" Starfire screamed, taking hold of Raven's wrist and staring forcefully down at her. Green glow met red as the seconds ticked away, and finally Robin was too nauseated to stand there any longer and watch it.
"Guys," he heard himself say, through some kind of hazy film—maybe that was the mask, or maybe it wasn't. "I—I need to leave."
Somebody protested. Robin didn't register who it was.
"We'll handle this as a team when we can all address it rationally." He looked meaningfully around the room, grateful that he seemed to be regaining control of his voice. "Without hitting, screaming, or name-calling."
"You can't just go leader-mode on us now…"
"I just did, Beast Boy." Addressing Terra now, Robin tried desperately to think of anything that might comfort her. He settled on the truth. "Until proven otherwise, this is on my shoulders, and you're still one of us."
"I'm sorry," Terra moaned.
"It's okay. Cyborg, take her to the infirmary and get her face taken care of. I want her contained there and kept away from any computer, though. No offense, Terra. Everyone else, drop it until tomorrow."
"I'm not dropping anything until—"
"Raven. Tomorrow." He didn't really know where the words were coming from, but he was immeasurably glad that he had them, at last; that he felt like he knew how to handle this again. Even if handling it meant doing nothing and making everyone else do nothing. Even if he was well aware that this was an act that he couldn't keep up for much longer.
He made sure that Raven had herself under control before motioning for Cyborg to release her, and tried not to think about how it hurt to have her glaring at him like that. How he thought that he could feel her anger, almost inside his head—and didn't like it at all.
Cyborg led Terra away, solemnly—Beast Boy only got two steps before they stopped him, leaving him staring down into the kitchen table, bracing himself with his palms. Robin looked from Raven to Starfire, decided that they weren't likely to start killing each other after Raven had just sworn to him that she was in control, and left the room without a word.
"Hey, wow, don't get upset over me, you guys. It's just a cold, or something. I just think it would be better if I had an early night instead of going out."
"What's really so bad about Slade, Robin? I know we fight him and I know you all say he's bad and stuff, but how do you know? How can you be sure? What's he done that's so horrible?"
"You know. It. Having…having sex. Does it hurt when you have sex, you know, with a guy?"
But there's no shame in the silver medal, now is there?...
It was all his fault. How could he not have known? How could he not have seen? The nervous looks, Raven's suspicions, the strange conversations that didn't belong, the uncalled for giggling…everything. And Robin, of all people, should have known what hiding something like that looked like. He was a failure. And this was inexcusable.
Slade had corrupted Terra, and he'd just stood by and let him. Just like he'd let him… Robin shook his head, not allowing himself to be distracted further. He'd spent thirty minutes wallowing in self-pity, and that was thirty minutes too long. Now, he had to focus on attempting to possibly fix what he'd broken, starting with Raven's outburst.
Raven wasn't in her room: he'd knocked on her door and said he needed to talk, and even if she was angry at him, she would have answered. So Robin knew that the next place he should look was the place that everyone generally went when they wanted to brood: the roof.
He was right.
She wasn't exactly trying to hide, leaning against the wall a few feet from the doorframe, cloak pulled around her like a shadow. Raven didn't make any sign that she'd noticed his presence, but he knew that she was just waiting for him to say something. If he'd come up here, he had a reason, and she'd be expecting one.
"Attacking a team member is very, very out of line, Raven."
"She's not a team member," Raven muttered slowly.
This was going to be exactly as difficult as he'd expected. "She is until we decide otherwise—together. I don't recall appointing you the sole authority on who stays and who goes."
Raven avoided his face, looking deliberately at the sky. "She betrayed us, Robin. She goes."
"I distinctly remember saying that we would discuss this tomorrow, and not before then."
"So why are you up here?" The wind blew at her cloak, and she adjusted it to rest more securely around her shoulders.
He sighed, moving to sit a safe distance away from her, in preparation for what promised to be a long argument. "I came here to tell you that physical and verbal attacks are not acceptable ways of handling this situation, and are not the ways I expect you to handle it tomorrow." Really, he didn't like saying this to her. But he had to. He was the leader. Nobody else was going to say it—and if they did, Raven wouldn't listen.
She was silent for a full minute while Robin sat there, waiting for a response. Finally, he got one, though not the one he'd wanted. "You really do think you're the world's whipping boy, don't you?"
"…What?"
Raven shrugged. "What Beast Boy said. About you doing the same thing. You didn't. Terra making this choice is not the same as you being blackmailed into it."
"No, I was worse because I knew better and she didn't. And that's not what I came up here to talk about. Lashing out and hitting her was—"
"Impulsive and injudicious, yes, I know, and I'm sorry, and I'll go make nice with the wh—with Terra, if that's what you want, and we'll all learn a lesson about friendship. It still wasn't the same thing." She was finally looking at him, voice much calmer than he'd expected it to be.
"You mean you…"
"Contrary to popular belief, Robin, I do make mistakes. It didn't help that I was drowning in your emotions at the time."
"…Oh. Well…don't do it again, okay?"
Strike the point about this being exactly as difficult as he'd expected. Though he was strangely glad that it hadn't been, more than he ought to be at simply resolving a disagreement easily. It was…he was starting to realize that part of his relief had something to do with the fact that it was Raven, and that he wanted to be able to tell her things without worrying that she'd stop speaking to him for days. And realizing that he could. It was…something about it was just…
A crooked smile interrupted his thoughts. "I'll try. Fearless leader."
It filled him with a kind of warmth that he suspected didn't have much to do with the ungodly hot weather in California.
"…It still wasn't the same thing."
"I never argued that it was. I argued that I was worse," he said.
Raven sighed heavily, turning so she was facing him. "You were blackmailed into stealing, fighting us, and being raped—to keep us alive. Terra gave Slade information about us because she felt like it."
He had to make her understand. "Terra didn't know any better! She's never even lived around people before us—she has no clue how to distinguish good from bad. Who knows what he said to her to get her to do what he wanted? Whereas I failed to do my job. It was not the same situation: Terra's mistake is my problem."
The laugh that followed sounded very odd coming from Raven. "Do you even realize what you're saying? Her mistake is your problem? Would you say this about anyone but yourself?"
His mouth opened but he couldn't think of a response, so he shut it.
"Alright, you like logic, let's forget about Terra and talk about you." Raven paused as if collecting her thoughts. "What happened to you never happened, okay? And...you kinda like Slade, even though you know he's a bad guy. He's...interesting. He makes things clear. Everything's simple when he's there, and you like simple. So you just do what he says." She looked straight into his eyes, even though maybe she wasn't aware that she was, but Robin wasn't looking away. "And when he tells you to steal, it's not like they can't afford it, so—well, you steal. And when he tells you to tell him secrets about your friends, you find out what he wants and you tell him. And when he asks you to spread your legs, it's easier to spread them than to argue, so you do."
It made him sick, really, even if it was only a hypothetical situation. Because Robin could never be like that, even hypothetically; it was too disgusting to even entertain for an instant, and his hands were starting to shake and he didn't like it. "Okay, okay, no more details necessary, thanks."
Raven nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do you really not see the difference between that and what you actually did do, Robin? Because if you don't, I think you're right—you shouldn't be a leader."
He did see, slowly, and he wished he'd seen where this was leading sooner so he could have stopped it, but now the logic was staring him in the face and he couldn't stop it, because if there was one thing Robin didn't do, it was cling to a clearly irrational belief. "I—okay, so it wasn't the same thing. I…don't know why I thought it was, but I guess—what Beast Boy said—it—"
Raven touched his wrist briefly. "I know."
Most other people would have put more words on the end of that sentence, or at least asked him to explain his, but Raven didn't and that was…comforting, somehow. Of course, he couldn't let her keep attacking Terra. "You have to see, though, that there were mitigating circumstances. She's not some evil villain who's been plotting to kill us behind our backs this whole time."
Raven snorted. "I don't think Terra's capable of plotting, actually."
Point. "Then don't you agree that this had to be at least partly Slade's doing? You already agree that she couldn't have orchestrated this if she tried. She's been isolated all her life, and he's an evil genius. Terra has no idea what I did—"
"What Slade did."
"That, too," he sighed. "In any case, she didn't know, and Slade manipulated her—you know he did, Raven. Yes, it's bad. But she's not evil. And you're not going to treat her like she is."
"I said I wouldn't." She leaned back on her forearms, seeming much more relaxed. Robin hoped that was because she'd already decided to leave Terra alone.
"No, you never actually said you wouldn't," said Robin. "No more hitting, no more yelling, no more calling Terra a whore, or any other epithets you can think of. Okay?"
"You never let me have any fun."
"That's a promise, then?" She wouldn't have joked about it if she didn't consider the matter closed.
Raven nodded reluctantly. "Sure—if you promise to try and steer clear of the It's-All-My-Fault Realm."
Well, as long as she was bringing up his failures… "Speaking of things that are my fault, I guess this makes the disk irrelevant."
Shaking her head, Raven sat up straighter and rolled her eyes. "It's your birthday, Robin. Can you maybe not talk about torture tapes?"
"Fine. I'll talk about it in three hours when it's no longer my birthday," he said evenly.
"I'll look forward to it," said Raven.
They both fell into silence after that, and though he didn't exactly know what she was thinking, he could feel her emotions like the warm breeze on his cheek. Not the intense, physical force that he remembered from the conversation in her room; this felt…less deliberate, not so much a conscious act as it was just something that happened. Robin didn't try to label them. There were some things that couldn't be labeled, and he realized that he didn't want to. He looked up at the stars and didn't even care that he knew all their names.
It's my birthday today! Reviews are the best presents. ;)