A Different Kind of War

Chapter Two

First Impressions

Annoying/Pointless Author's Note: If you are unopposed to RobStar you must read Super Chocolate Bear's A Strange Business. It is absolutely wonderful, probably my favorite Titans fic.

The long hand on the large white clock on the wall began to move slowly and ground to a halt at the number 6. A bell clanged loudly, and with several loud groans the few conversations that people were actually having ceased.

The quiet was deadly, and seemed to sweep through the room quickly.

The children in the room, at first glance, were entirely unremarkable. There were the grinning pretty girls, the goths, the starving-artist types, the more athletic types, the world-haters, the folks that looked pretty average and many many more people that could not possibly fit into such neat categories.

Then one began to look harder and noticed several things. First, there was only one person smiling, a red-head girl who had actually worn her name tag. (The name Kori was written on it in curly hand-writing and surrounded by flowers.) Those surrounding her regarded Kori coldly, a few chuckled, no one smiled back, and still more people looked at her as though she were a porcupine in a sundress that had risen through the desk.

Next, though spotting the occasional pregnant teen was not that uncommon in these times, but there were over five girls in this class of thirty that had suspicious bulges beneath their stomach. Two or three glanced at the growing being within them nervously, two girls gazed upon he or she tenderly, stroking it and wearing the tiniest of smiles when--presumably--they felt their children kick.

The final girl, with midnight black hair, stunning eyes, skin that indicated the pregnancy was taking its toll or she was very unhealthy, and a name-tag with Rachel printed neatly in black ink, ignored it completely and elected to stare at the wall instead.

Very few people are lucky enough to be happy in school, though many pretend to be. Here, with the exception of Kori, no one was even pretending that they hadn't been drug here against their will and better judgment. Here, several people looked downright suicidal and homicidal, and that is said in the most literal terms of the words.

A boy sitting in the back, dark hair and large light blue eyes that still appeared harsh somehow. He had no name-tag, he considered himself above such things that were such an obvious insult to his intelligence, but if you were willing to go through a lot of trouble...

He turned in no work, gave every single test they gave him back with little strips that were made into wads of paper missing, and spoke to no one;which madefinding out his namerather difficult. Still, if you could look through the school records, you would find he was called Richard and little else, though no amount of hostility could hide the way he shook sometimes.

Another boy, chocolate skin and cocoa hair, sat slightly to the left and directly in the middle of the class and was glaring at the wall as though it knew something vital and refused to tell him. Victor was written in large neat letters and every few minutes he would look at it as though he was tempted to tear it off, but really didn't want to make anyone angry this early on.

At first glance he was a perfectly normal and healthy teenager and had ended up here by sheer accident. However, at the end of the hour he would rise out of his seat and everyone would understand. The left side of the body didn't move at all, completely dependant on the much-more-muscular right leg to haul it along.

The next person of any relevance here was slumped forward on the desk, drool dripping in a manner similar to that of a waterfall off the side of the desk and forming a little lake at the foot of the desk to the blatant disgust.

If his chest wasn't currently plastered to the desk, one might have seen a name-tag with Garfield written in barely readable scrawl with a doodle of a hippo beside it. A head full of thick brown hair with bright green streaks in it, teeth with braces, and scrawny frame.

The final person that we really give a damn about was a skinny blond girl glancing around the room nervously, large bags under pretty blue eyes. Every few minutes her eyes would start to glisten and her upper lip would quiver, and she would shut her eyes and furiously shake her head. Terra was written in wobbly letters, but covered by arms clamped tightly over her washboard and slender chest.

The bell rang, and they all looked to the front of the room where a crazed-looking redhead stick-man walked in. "'Ello duckies. I'm Mr. Mod and you're here to learn a lesson."

It was not going to be a good day. Not for anyone, not by any stretch of the imagination.

"Kori."

"Yes, Ms. Diane?" Kori grinned easily, despite the fact the woman had shown her only minimal kindness.

"Under normal circumstances you would be quartered with other girls."

Kori's face fell and she looked toward the floor. "But my circumstances are not normal." Her smile remained, but lost every hint of true happiness.

"I'm sorry," the teacher answered, and meant it. "But the mothers of some of the other girls...We explained it wasn't contagious...You know they're mostly pregnant so we have to be very careful...I'm sorry...At the insistence of several parents, you will be quartered by yourself."

"Of course, it is no trouble. I will just go retrieve my things."

"I'm very sorry-"

"Really. I am fine. Where is my new room?"

"It's three doors to the left of the main office. Really, it's very nice. It has three beds, a lovely view, you won't have to share a bathroom."

"Yes," her voice sounded dead. "I'm sure I'll love it."

It was something about those quivering green eyes that made her want to cry. "If another girl has trouble adjusting and her parents don't object we can just-"

"I will not wish for another girl to have trouble adjusting. I will just go get my things and their mothers can worry no more-"

"Okay, Kori. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, Ms. Diane. Sleep well."

Shoulders slumped she began to make her way towards the room where every potential friend would be sleeping.

The pillow was soft. The mattress was thick. The blanket was nice. The sheets were new. This she had realized the second she lay down on her back staring directly at the bunk above her so as to not have to look at the bulge in her stomach.

Maybe I can convince myself it's a strategically-placed tumor.

This idea was, of course, completely absurd and she almost chuckled, but halted herself instantly.

She shut her eyes carefully and breathed slowly, not daring to speak out loud though it did help her meditate.

A group of three girls say on one bed and giggled happily and she looked at them moving about all leaning back on pillows and complaining about their asshole boyfriends who disappeared just a soon as they found out.

"It's just so creepy," A brunette with long hair began speaking, "I mean, there's a kid in there."

"Really? You sure you're not just gaining weight?" For a moment all of the girls grew silent with horror, but the second speaker grinned and spoke again. "Gawd, I'm just kidding."

Though it really wasn't that funny (at all) they all shrieked with laughter as the discussion came to make-up and the limited selection of pretty clothing they had now.

By all rights, Rachel could have asked them to be quiet, but it was much more interesting to listen to them talk than to grope for sleep she knew wasn't going to come tonight.

Over the side of the bunk a waterfall of blonde hair and blue eyes appeared.

Rachel had to fight off the incredibly odd urge to grab that hair and pull, though she couldn't stop her face from being contorted into a grimace.

The girl looked guilty for a moment, then spoke. "Uh...Hi..."

"..." Rachel was not in the mood.

"Well, all the blood is rushing to my head so I'll hurry...Um...you know the baby...?"

Rachel almost laughed at her expense, but settled for sarcasm. "The one in my uterus?"

The brilliant hue of Terra's face was not entirely from having been upside-down for almost a minute now. "Yeah...Is it okay if I ask you a question about it?"

What does it feel like when it kicks?"

"It never does."

She seemed disappointed and bewildered. "Never?"

"Not once."

"Okay, I get the bathroom first in the morning." Garfield spoke up mildly and looked around the room for people who objected. Alas, he didn't have to look very far.

"Not unless you're going to get up at 6:30." Richard answered without any sort of hesitation.

"Dude! No!"

"Yes. Don't call me dude."

"Classes don't start 'til ten! Come on!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"No."

"Dude, seriously."

"No."

"Dude! You can't just keep saying no!"

"No."

"Asshole."

And within minutes of that utterance Garfield was out cold on the floor--black eye adorning his face and many bruises sprinkled over his body--and Richard was slumbering peacefully.

"Anger issues much?" Victor spoke mildly, though despite this he had waited until Richard was sleeping.

No one else said anything, but they all made a mental note to avoid the violent runt with the odd eyes.