Issue #2– Gifts
Warm beams of lazy sunlight drifted through the windows of the highest floors of Titans Tower. The main lounge, which housed the plasma screen TV and the two Game Cubes Bart had broken (too much high speed Street Fighter button mashing), was quiet except for the heavy steps of a large robotic man. He walked across the floor carrying a box brightly colored green and tied with a big red bow. After he set the box on the table, he pulled up a chair, rested his chin in his hands, and just stared at it in silence. The red mechanical eye on the left side of his face whirred and clicked as it focused and refocused, running information to his brain.
He sat like a statue and didn't even move when the green monkey pawed outside the window. It muttered something that could have been profanity, and then it fumbled with a latch. "You know, you could have given me a hand," Beast Boy said, transforming back to human.
"Sorry."
Gar shrugged, and he went to the refrigerator for a Kool-Aid Kool Burst, which the Titans had found oddly addicting. Raven of all people had brought them into the tower. As he walked around the counter, one eye stayed focused on his friend who still didn't move. As he popped the top off his drink, Beast Boy noticed the box. "Well, well, well, what's this? Peeking in our Christmas presents a little early are we, Cyborg?"
"It's another present from our secret admirer."
Beast Boy rolled his eyes. For the past couple of weeks, somebody has been leaving colorful packages on the Titans' doorstep. They always included a tag, something gushingly sweet like: Dear Titans! Here's a gift for being such 'super' people! No pun intended! Ha! Regards, Your Secret Admirer. When the first package appeared, they had all been naturally suspicious. After all, in their line of work, it wasn't unusual for some misguided psychopath with a bad gimmick to decorate a shrapnel bomb as a birthday cake with Sesame Street characters. In fact, Beast Boy was pretty sure the Toyman had done it once. So Victor—Cyborg—ran all sorts of tests on it. Eighteen hours later, still hesitant, he announced the package as 'safe.' And when they opened it up, to all of their horror and surprise, the Teen Titans found…
…a pair of reading glasses.
Not even good reading glasses but the cheap, two-dollar kind one buys in the jewelry section of a department store. Superboy had tried them on, said they weren't even good enough for his Conner Kent disguise, and the glasses were tossed in the closet where the Titans kept all of the brik-a-brak one collects while superheroing.
The next weekend, a similar thing happened. Another package appeared at their door, another gushing message, and another series of tests. Again, the package came up clean, and this time they opened it and found…a pair of false teeth.
"So, what," Beast Boy had said, "is this supposed to encourage us to keep taking a bite out of crime?"
Now it had happened again, the third week in a row. This time the tag read: Dear Friends—The Super Friends! I thought of you when I saw this, and I had to pick it up. Tootles for now! Your Secret Admirer.
Beast Boy slurped the last of his drink. "You know, I hate to say this, but I miss the days when super villains were obnoxious and dangerous, not just obnoxious. Back when they would send you something you would never use like a toilet seat warmer, but at least they would have the decency to lace it with anthrax first."
"It may not be a villain at all. It could be some misguided fan."
"Hey, I hadn't thought of that. Fans get pretty crazy. One time a Space Trekkette sent me pictures of her entire body painted green. As in, everything. Nothing left to the imagination."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"One, I think she was about fourteen. Two, I don't know how she got green dye or the camera up there."
Cyborg chuckled.
"So why don't you just open it already? You know it's harmless, right? It's probably just another dumb gag."
"There's just something about it, though. I have a feeling. There's something suspicious about it, like an aura. Something that just feels wrong."
"You were one of those kids who never even peeled back the paper, weren't you? Here, give me that." Beast Boy leaned over Cyborg, who didn't lift a finger in protest, and savagely ripped at the paper surrounding the box. He tore it to shreds, making it unsalvageable for regifting, and he peered into the box. His mouth fell open, and his eyes widened. "Oh my god…"
"What is it?"
"It's terrible. It's horrible. It's…" He reached inside. "A plastic horse!" Beast Boy screamed and writhed on the table as he made the horse trample over his body. "Oh no! The ribbon…tied around…its neck! It must…mass…it must increase its mass…crushing…sternum…can't breathe…tell Bart…I…stole…Mortal Kombat from him…" Beast Boy went limp, and his tongue slid out of his mouth. A tiny pool of drool formed on the table.
"You're funny."
"I know." And then Beast Boy started the charade again.
So imagine the looks on the faces of the other Titans, sans Robin who asked to be left alone, when they opened the door to find Beast Boy writhing all over the table at the mercy of a toy horse.
"Okay, is anybody really surprised?" Bart asked. Nobody raised their hand. "That's what I thought. Did we get another present? Let me see!" Bart zipped to the table and sat next to Beast Boy. He took the horse, and he looked it over. "Wow, it looks like an American Cream. That's the only heavy breed to originate in America, you know."
"Actually, I did know that." Beast Boy grinned.
"It's a plastic horse?" Conner asked, floating over to the table. Bart held the horse out to him, but instead, Conner picked Bart up by a belt loop, letting the smaller boy dangle as he looked at the toy. "I don't get it."
"I don't think we're supposed to," Cyborg said.
Conner set Bart back on the table, and he, Cyborg, and the rest of the Titans engaged in a discussion about their bizarre secret admirer. "Maybe it's somebody who wants to join the Titans. Like Green Arrow, or something."
Bart tuned them out. The gifts were clearly senseless items, not meant to mean anything. And besides, he had a super wedgie to work out of his underwear. As he wiggled and squirmed on the table, Beast Boy nudged him.
"Hey, where's Tim?"
Bart sighed. "He's being all shut off and brooding."
"He has a lot on his mind."
"I know. I realize that. We sort of got into it earlier today. I kind of yelled at him for being difficult. I felt bad about it, so about an hour ago I went to his room. He just kind of stood there as I gave him a hug, and I told him that I was sorry and I realize he's working through things and not trying to shun us. He didn't really say anything."
Bart sighed again. "I can't tell if he's mad at me or not."
"I doubt Tim's mad at you," Raven said. Her voice almost made Bart jump. There was just something about it. "You do make him sad though."
"What? How do I make him sad?"
"We all do. But you and Conner especially. Whenever he sees you, his heart wells up with happiness for a moment. But then he washes it away with a deep sense of loneliness and hurt."
"Huh? That doesn't make any sense!"
"Actually, it does." Beast Boy leaned back on the table. "Think about it. His dad just passed away. So did that girl Robin. He hasn't said anything about her, but you know the Bat Family—they had to at least know each other. When people you care about go away, especially suddenly and senselessly, it makes some people feel detached. Some people don't let themselves care about other people, not truly, because they never want to feel that kind of hurt again."
Bart just nodded.
"That was very insightful, Gar," Raven said.
"Eh, it was just spoken from experience."
Just then, an ear-splitting siren went off, shattering the air, and making the hair on the back of their necks stand on end. Before anybody could say anything, the doors slid open, and Tim walked in, in full Robin costume fastening his cape around his neck.
Beast Boy nudged Bart. "And I thought you were the speedster."
"What's going on?" Robin asked.
"Somebody's on the island," Cyborg replied. They all went over to the wall, and it flickered as the rocks and coastline of the island came into view. There, in the distance, was the very small silhouette of a man waving his arms. If you squinted hard enough, you could make out the rowboat beside him.
"Zoom," Cyborg ordered.
The camera zoomed in, focused itself, and the man's features became clear. A collective hush, mixed with muffled gasps, filled the room.
The man was thin, tall and lean, like the frame for a scarecrow. He had a long chin, a slim nose, and a messy shock of hair on top of his head. A messy shock of hair that was green. His lips were crimson red, twisted into a grin which revealed menacing teeth as white as his skin. There was something wicked about the twinkle in his eye.
"Is that who I think it is?" Bart asked.
Robin bit his lip. "It's him. It's the Joker."
