I do not own Teen Titans.
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Chapter 2: Memories
He had been standing in a trance for what seem liked hours, but in reality was only fifteen minutes. Slade had brought him into an office and told him that Bruce would only be a few minutes, but that clearly wasn't correct. It was like a doctor's office. They tell you that the doctor will be in soon, but thirty minutes later, you're still waiting. Victor sighed, and just then, Bruce Wayne walked through the room.
"Welcome aboard, Victor. It's good to finally meet you. Richard has told me some great things about you." Bruce crossed the room in a few great strides, his hand extended out. Victor was taken aback at his size. He looked to be around six foot three, just an inch below Victor himself. He recovered quickly though, and gave Bruce a strong handshake.
"It's great to meet you too, sir," Victor said shakily. He felt a little sick here, standing in front of a crime legend. He let go off Bruce's hand, who showed a brief smile.
"You've got a good grip, I like that." Bruce walked around his desk and sat down in a large leather chair, placing both hands on the desk. "But please, don't call me sir. I hate being called sir," He added.
Victor nodded. "Alright, Bruce, er… Mr. Wayne, I mean." Bruce looked dead serious for a moment, but let out a booming laugh a moment later.
"Bruce is fine, Victor, Bruce is fine…" He mumbled as his laughter died, then began to search through a stack of papers, the top one with a picture of Victor on it.
Victor let out a large breath of relief. Bruce looked like a very menacing man, and he was known for being ruthless. Victor didn't want to start off on the bad side of someone that looked so menacing. Aside from his height, Bruce was built. He had very defined facial features, with dark eyes. His hair was pitch black, except for a streak of grey that shot through it on the side. Add his looks with the expensive looking black suit that he was wearing, and Bruce Wayne looked as tough as can be.
"Slade said that you took the interview well, and even handled the job he handed you with ease. Stealing that money from the Tortella's couldn't have been easy. You must be as good as they say," Bruce said.
"Well, the interview wasn't so bad, and taking that money wasn't that hard. They only had two guys guarding it, and neither was very tough."
"Don't be modest… Taking down two guys at once is a decent feat, and so is handling your interview with Slade as well as he said you did. Slade Wilson has a way of intimidating people." Bruce leaned back in his chair and stared at Victor, who couldn't help but smile after that.
"I admit, Slade did have a frightening kind of aura coming off of him, but I just shrugged it off. I knew that I needed to stay cool if I wanted to be working for you."
"And you will be working for me. First thing, in fact. Richard is busy getting ready what you need. He'll brief you." Bruce stood up and walked over to the door, and Victor followed, shaking his hand as Bruce extended it once again. "We look forward to having you as one of our best," The crime lord said, then let go. Victor went through the door and into a dim room, where Richard stood over a table.
"Oh, hey," Richard mumbled with a glance over his shoulder. "How'd it go with Bruce? He didn't freak you out, did he?" He asked.
"Naw, it was fine… What's going on right now? I didn't expect to be doing a job so shortly after becoming part of the… gang, or whatever." Victor walked over next to the table and looked down at the items on it. Two baseball bats, two butterfly knives, and some rope.
"Bruce likes to initiate his newcomers with a task right away, to prove they're serious. In his eyes, if you don't back out right away, it shows courage, dedication. The man loves bravery," Richard said with a laugh. "You are in though, right?" He added. Victor smiled.
"Yeah, of course. What are we doing?" He asked. Richard handed him a bat, then tossed him a knife.
"We, as in just the two of us, are going to put a scare into a couple of guys, brothers, that own a bar downtown, called Quencher's. They're supposed to give Bruce fifty-percent of the cash they make in their underground gambling ring, but they haven't paid in two weeks. Us two get to rough them up. Fun, huh?" Richard flashed an excited grin at Victor.
"Oh yeah, fun to the max," Victor said, chuckling. He pocketed the knife and spun the baseball around in his right hand. Richard picked up his own supplies, including the rope, and headed out the side door, into the back alley.
"You wanna drive the car there? I was gonna take my bike, but I'm not in the mood." Richard pointed over at a corvette in the open garage at the end of the alley.
"You, not wanting to ride your bike? Who are you and what have you done with Richard?" Victor joked. His friend laughed, tossing him the keys.
"Just drive the car, Vicky!" Richard yelled, still laughing, then dodged the stone that Victor picked up and threw at him in retaliation. Then they both climbed in, and drove off.
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The bar was in downtown Jump City, and looked right at home with the rest of the place. It was a rundown place at the end of the road, and didn't look to have many customers. It sure explained why they did the gambling ring for the extra cash.
"It's real simple. We're just gonna go in, hit 'em a few times with the bat, tie 'em up, and leave. In and out, five minutes, tops." Richard briefed Victor on the way up to the door. It wasn't really necessary.
"Rich, I know what I'm doing here. It's not like I haven't done a job before," Victor said impatiently.
"True, but this is different. Now that you're officially part of Bruce's group, people are gonna remember your face. There might be a hit out on you if you start posing too big a threat. Believe me, I've heard rumors out there about people wanting me dead," Richard said, with something that almost sounded like pride in his voice.
"Hell, who wouldn't want you dead? With that cocky attitude, I can't believe someone hasn't killed you already." Richard gave him a glare, and Victor laughed.
"Har har. Just take it seriously, okay? The money is worth it, but trust me, things are going to be more dangerous now. I just hope that they haven't hired another gang to protect them. We don't need a gang war on our hands."
Richard stopped at the door, cracking it, and Victor peered inside. There were only a few people in, sitting at the door. One guy was clearing off a table, and the other stood behind the bar. 'They must be the owners' Victor thought. Richard opened the door slowly, and they both walked in. Richard tossed the rope on the floor and raised the bat.
"Hey, Quencher brothers, got a minute?" Richard called out over the music. The few customers inside looked over, saw the bats and rope, and jumped out of their seats, running for the door. Victor stepped aside and let them out. No point in hurting innocent bystanders. That was against his beliefs.
"Something you two want?" The brother behind the counter asked. Richard glanced at Victor, a questioning look on his face. How could they not know what they wanted? They must have been dumber than they looked.
"Yeah, actually, there is. We're here to collect the money you owe Bruce Wayne," Victor replied. Richard looked over and nodded his head, as if to say, "Good job."
"You can tell Wayne to go fuck himself. We cut a deal with another gang, and they'll be protecting us from now on. We don't need him or his henchmen." The other brother, the one clearing the tables and clearly the older one, had turned around to speak.
"If you got another gang protecting you from everyone else, that's fine, but you still owe Bruce Wayne two weeks worth of gambling profit. Cough it up, or you're gonna regret it," Richard said, twirling the bat.
"Well, you're not gonna get it, so I suggest you leave," The one behind the bar said. Victor saw him start to reach under the counter. "Go!" He yelled. The other brother hurled a glass at Richard and ran. The one behind the counter whipped out a shotgun and pointed it at Richard, but Victor was way ahead of him, already at the counter and swinging his bat into the gun, knocking it out of his hands.
"I'll handle this one, you get the other!" Victor yelled. Richard was way ahead though, rushing across the room in no time, right towards the door the other had ran through. Victor turned his attention back to the one in front of him, who was reaching back down for the gun. Victor slammed the bat onto his back.
There was a ruckus in the other room, that much was clear. Victor could hear a struggle, and shortly after, a bang. Was it a gunshot? 'No doubt' he told himself. "Get up!" He yelled at the man on the floor, who got up slowly and put his hands in the air.
"Drop it." Victor growled and looked over. Richard had his hands up. His right shoulder was bleeding, and the brother behind him was holding a pistol to his back. "Drop it now, or he dies." Victor slowly put the bat on the table.
"We just want our money. No one has to die here. And I think you should know that, if you do kill him, Bruce Wayne will stop at nothing to take you down. Killing him would be suicide," Victor said seriously. In front of him, Richard twitched his head downward. Victor got the idea.
"We have protection, we can handle it," He assured Victor, who grinned.
"Then you obviously don't know who you're dealing with," Victor said. Suddenly, Richard ducked down to the ground, and came back up with a punch, striking the man in the chest and sending him reeling. Victor threw his fist out and struck his own target, knocking him back.
"Hey!" A strangled cry came from Richard at the other end of the room. The man had somehow knocked Richard down to the ground and was pointing the gun at him. Victor knew he would shoot, and in an instant, he had taken out the knife, opened it, and threw it across the room. The blade planted itself right into the man's neck, who dropped the gun right into Richard's hands as he clutched at his neck.
"Nice throw, man!" Richard congratulated. "Woah, woah, woah!" Richard jumped up and pointed the gun at the gun behind the counter, rushing over. He had the bat in his hand, but dropped it immediately. "Pay the money," Richard said, then pistol whipped him, knocking the bartender down, unconscious.. "Let's go," Richard said.
They left the building in a hurry, climbing into the car. Victor started it and drove away, as Richard held a hand to his shoulder.
"That bastard got me good. He already had the gun out when I got into the room. They turned out to be a lot tougher than I thought. But damn, you saved my ass. Thanks a lot, I didn't think you were so…"
Victor tuned him out. This wasn't how it should have been it all. Killing people wasn't part of what he did. He tried to avoid it if at all necessary, and even if the person who he killed did deserve it, he still didn't. But he had to do it, right? 'Yeah, right' he reassured himself. He had to do it…
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"Awake now, eh? Better wake yourself up good before we get this case back to Bruce. I don't even know how you drifted off so fast…"
Victor awoke in the passenger seat of the car, and the first thing he did was look to make sure that the briefcase was still in the back seat. It was. He yawned, stretching, and remembered his dream. Then he recalled the job that they had just gotten done with. He didn't do the killing, but he felt just as guilty. He could have saved them, somehow.
"We've still got a few minutes," Victor said, looking at the road they were on. "I'll be alert, don't worry about it." Victor reached back and grabbed the case, putting it on his lap and resting his head on the seat. Then he began to think of the dream…
He was nineteen, and it was his first job with Bruce Wayne's group. It also marked the second time he had ever killed a man. The first time, he was only a kid, and he was forced to shoot his own father when he tried to kill him. He had never really gotten over that day, and for that reason, Victor tried to avoid killing, unless he absolutely had to do it. It just caused too much pain.
"You're not still mad at me, are you?" Richard asked. When Victor didn't reply, he continued. "Look, I know that I got a little carried away, but she could have killed you. I was trying to save your life. I didn't just kill her for fun." Richard sighed. Victor always got a little down when Richard killed someone. Maybe he didn't like to see death, or maybe he just hated seeing his best friend commit cold blooded murder. Richard wasn't sure.
"I know, you did what you had to do. You know me though. I don't like seeing people die like that. But hey, I'll forgive you in time, just like I always have." Victor spoke in a monotone. He wasn't really in a good mood.
"Well, erase that shitty sound from your voice. We're here." Richard parked the car in the garage behind the bar, climbed out, and locked it once Victor followed. "Give me the case," He ordered. Victor tossed it over the car to him.
"You think he's gonna want us to do more tonight? I'm actually kind of beat," Victor said, yawning again.
"You're beat? I'm the one whose been stuck on Japanese time for a month, hardly sleeping. If anyone needs a night off, it's me," Richard jabbed his thumb to his chest, and Victor smiled.
"Maybe so, but still, I feel dead tired. I just want to go home, eat some dinner, and sleep in tomorrow. Since you've been gone, I've been working my ass off. Bruce can give you the next solo job, or hell, he can let Slade and his guys handle it."
"Like Slade wants Bruce's hand-me-downs. I recall a conversation they had when I was fourteen, when they had only been merged for a couple of months. Bruce was always offering to allow Slade to take some of the bigger jobs that Bruce had set up, so that Slade could establish him. But Slade always spat in his face, like it was a disgrace that he needed Bruce's help to establish himself. He's always been stubborn like that, stupid old-"
"Not talking about me, are you?" The evil sounding voice came from in front of them. Richard and Victor looked up. Slade was standing in the doorway, a grim look on his face.
"No, we wouldn't dare do that." Richard grinned at Slade, who shoved his was past, stopping for a moment to turn back.
"You should really speak better of your elders. After all, I am better than you. Have some respect, Robin." Slade put an extra dose of venom on the last word, and Richard grimaced. Victor looked at the two of them. Why had he called him Robin?
"Get out of my face," Richard said. Slade's lips curled, and before Richard could get out another word, Slade had turned and walked away. "Asshole…" He mumbled. Richard led the way into the back of the bar, going through the first door and into the room where he and Victor had prepared for their first job together. Richard set the case onto the counter.
"I had a dream in the car," Victor said.
"Yeah? What was it about?" Richard didn't sound very interested as he grabbed a bottled water from the mini fridge and downed it.
"It was about our first job together, a couple years back. Remember?" Victor asked. He had no doubt that Richard did remember, as he cleared his throat awkwardly every time it was brought up. This time was no different.
"Yeah, I remember. The Quencher bros and all that. What about it?" Richard asked impatiently. Though the topic had only come up a few times, he hated talking about it.
"Just remembering it. His face when the knife hit him, the story in the paper about the other one's suicide… Sometimes I just can't get it out of my head," Victor said sadly. He sat down in a chair, tired.
"Listen, we all have something in our past that bothers us, something that makes us feel guilty and scared. But don't let it make you hate yourself, let it motivate you to be a better person. You aren't the only one with this kind of issue," Richard assured him.
"Is that so? Tell me then, Richard, do you have this type of problem? Something from your past that haunts you?" Victor asked curiously. Richard didn't look at him, rather, he looked at the gun on the table in front of him. Slade's gun. "Does it have something to do with what Slade said? That name… Robin?" Richard shifted uncomfortably when his eyes met with Victor's.
"It's in the past now. It doesn't matter," Richard said simply, turning around and walking out of the room and into the bar.
Victor sat in his chair for a few minutes, trying to figure out what could have possibly happened to Richard in the past. Robin… what could it mean? A nickname? His real name? He wanted to know, but this wasn't the time. Victor just wanted to get this briefcase to Bruce, go home, and rest.
Looking down at Slade's gun, he gave one last thought to what Slade could know that Victor didn't. He sighed, dropping the thought, and walked through the doors and out into the bar.
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I've been watching a bit too much of the television show Lost lately. Felt like throwing in some memories from the past. Let you get to see what happened to them before now. Anyways, next chapter up in a week or two. Hopefully I can make it a wee bit longer. We'll see. Still trying to get some more ideas on this. If anyone wants to suggest some stuff, I'd like to hear it. If not, that's fine too. So, I'm off. Review if you wish too.
Next chapter: Robin and Victor run into a few old friends; Logan, Kori, and Raven. But when they speak to Bruce, they find that someone has been killing off well known members of the gang. Could Richard and Victor be on the death list?
"I'm in a glass case of emotion!"
-SinFire