Elsewhere Chapter 6: It Seems So Distant, a teen titans fanfic

I was going to wait to post this until tomorrow, but then I thought since there was no update last week I'd just do it today. And you know why else this is being updated today instead of Friday...? Comic-Con this weekend! Wooo! Anyone else going?

Disclaimer: I don't own TT or The Forgotten Arm

This chapter is based on the song "She Really Wants You," another of my personal favorites.

Chapter Six: It Seems So Distant

"You will be alright again, Robin. I promise. I am here. You are alright now."

"I'm sorry."

"Robin, do not be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I… I didn't know where I was. Please don't leave me alone again. In the dark. I don't want to be alone in the dark."

"I promise, Robin, I will not leave you."

"I saw him again, Star. He was coming after me. I see him everywhere. He's everywhere, Starfire."

"Slade is not here, Robin. You know that."

"Maybe he isn't… Maybe he isn't here, Starfire. And maybe he is."

"He is not here, Robin. I promise you he is not."

"I'm not going back…"

"No, Robin. You are not."

"I love you, Star."

"I love you, too."

Robin groaned as a ray of sunlight hit his face. Opening his eyes, he found that yet again he had fallen asleep at his desk next to his laptop. Sitting up slowly, Robin grimaced at how sore his back felt from the awkward and uncomfortable position he had slept in.

It was the third morning in a row he'd found himself waking up at his desk, having fallen asleep the previous night while doing late-night research about the man called Wintergreen, and continually coming up empty handed. Robin had been doing even more work everyday than usual, trying to distract himself from his thoughts. But it wasn't really working. It was the third morning in a row he'd woken from dreaming about her.

He stood up slowly, stretching out his back and arms. Walking to the bathroom, he stripped and showered before dressing again. As he was pulling on his shirt, Robin noted the bruise on his right shoulder from where he'd been hit the previous day. Robin had foiled a would-be arsonist, but had been too preoccupied to notice the criminal's foot poised in a roundhouse kick, and had been unable to duck or block in time. His shoulder now sported a purple welt the size of his baseball, and was tender to the touch. Seeing it, Robin frowned and finished getting dressed.

That mishap hadn't been the only one of its kind. In the three days since he'd last talked to Starfire, his mind had continuously been elsewhere when it should have been on fighting. At the most inconvenient moment he'd think about her. When he should have been punching he'd think of her smile. When he should have been kicking he'd think of her golden skin. When he should have been blocking he'd think of her eyes.

Robin only took it as more signs that he was better off without her. After all, this was exactly what he'd been worried about, wasn't it? That she'd distract him from his work, that their relationship would endanger their lives. Never mind that he'd been happier and calmer when he was with her than he'd ever been before. Never mind that she'd always been there for him, even before they'd become a couple and even after he left for Coal. Never mind that she'd only become a distraction once they were no longer speaking to each other.

But even as Robin was convincing himself that she was nothing more than a distraction, there was a part of him that was panicking. It wasn't the type of panic he'd experienced when he'd been forced to work for Slade, or the type of panic he'd felt when he could see the villain and no one else was able to. No, it was a panic he'd never experienced before.

It was the panic that he'd messed up the one good thing in his life, the one thing he'd been able to count on and the one thing that he'd thought would always be there. It was the panic that he'd never hold Starfire in his arms again, or kiss her again, or even look into her eyes again. It was the panic that forever more he'd be alone.

Because while Robin knew things could always get worse, he'd recently experienced for the first time that things could actually get better. And the thought that things had gotten better, and that he was the reason they had gotten worse again, made him want to close his eyes and never open them again.

Robin sighed. He picked up his belt and fitted it around his waist, feeling all the compartments to make sure they were loaded. He found two pockets empty; where his bridarangs and freeze discs should have been, there was only air. Opening his suitcase and digging through the piles of gadgets and clothes, the corners of Robin's mouth started turning downwards.

He was out of freeze discs and birdarangs.

Robin ran a hand down the front of his face. He had been careful, so careful. He'd packed for his trip methodically, taking exactly what he'd need, no more, no less. He'd been prudent with how often he'd relied on his utility belt and other gadgets. But somehow, it hadn't been enough. The freeze discs he could live without, but the birdarangs… he'd come to count on them. And that meant calling the Tower.

His eyes flicked to the communicator on his bedside table. The white T on the yellow background seemed to mock him. Hesitantly, he reached over and picked up the little electronic device, flipping it open, turning it on, and pressing the button to connect to Titans Tower. Had it been only a few days ago, Robin found himself thinking, I would have just called Star directly. Robin shook his head and waited for someone, hopefully someone like Cyborg, Raven, or Beast Boy, to pick up.

But Robin closed his eyes in aggravation when he heard their voice.

"Hello?"

"Starfire, it's Robin." He tried his best to keep his voice steady and confident.

Even without being able to see her Robin was able to picture her trying to choose her next words. "I am… surprised to hear from you."

"I just need some more birdarangs. Is Cyborg there?"

"Oh." Robin ignored the disappointment she was trying to mask. "Yes, he is here. I will locate him for you." Robin could hear her footsteps as she walked away, presumably to find Cyborg.

Robin tried to bite down the hurt that he felt when she didn't try to prolong their conversation. It doesn't matter.

"Robin?" Robin nodded in response to Cyborg before he remembered they couldn't see each other.

"Yeah."

"How's it going, man? We haven't heard from you in a while."

"Everything's fine. Listen, I just need you to send me some birdarangs and some freeze discs. Fifteen birdarangs and twenty discs. Just send them to the Coal City post office on overnight mail and I'll-"

"I'm going to drive them up."

Robin stopped mid-sentence. "What?"

"I'm going to take the T-Car and drive up to Coal and give them to you in person."

"Cyborg, that's really not necessary."

"It's no trouble."

Getting frustrated, Robin said, "The team needs you and it'll be faster and easier if you just mail them." For various reasons, many of which were unknown even to him, Robin had no desire to meet with Cyborg.

"Come on, Robin, you know how risky it is to trust the mailman with important things."

"The mail," Robin said through clenched teeth, "Is fine."

"What if the mail gets delayed or intercepted? What if your weapons get damaged on the way? What if some fangirls see you at the post office and you get swarmed?"

"Cyborg, it isn't that big of a deal."

"Yes it is, Robin." Cyborg's voice had taken on that tone that meant there was no arguing. "What's your address?"

"Uh, 1220 Bradley Street. Room 34."

"I'll be there by two o'clock." He didn't wait for Robin to respond before hanging up.

Robin stood staring at his communicator. He bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn't even wanted to talk to them, but to see them? Robin knew full well how the visit would go. Cyborg would harass him about his mission, trying to convince him that Slade was dead and that he should just come back to the Tower. He'd try to tell Robin how much Starfire wanted him to come home, try to guilt him into it. Maybe he could convince Cyborg to send someone else in his place- Raven, or Beast Boy, even. Either of them would have been easier to deal with. But no, Robin knew that Cyborg would never go for that. Setting his comm. on the bedside table, Robin started preparing himself for what would certainly be a difficult visit and got ready to venture back into the city.

Cyborg hadn't been planning on going to Coal, but when the opportunity arrived he had snatched it up in a heartbeat. It was true that he felt bad leaving the team leaderless again- for the short time he was away Raven would be in charge, but what was a few hours?- but he knew the others understood.

Things had actually been going pretty smoothly around the Tower in Robin's absence. Cyborg, along with Raven and Beast Boy, had just gone along their normal routines. And it had gotten easier as the weeks passed and everyone had gotten used to Robin being away. Well, almost everyone had gotten used to Robin being away. But Cyborg had decided to give Starfire her space, and to leave it up to her to bring the topic up. Contrary to popular belief he didn't like to meddle, and especially now that Star and Robin were together he wanted to give them their breathing room.

So Cyborg had waited until now to intercede. And while his reasons did have to do with Starfire, they were not solely for her benefit. When he had noticed that Starfire was no longer trying to contact Robin daily, he'd casually asked her about it. And when she'd responded that if Robin wanted to talk to her, he could call her, Cyborg had realized that if even Starfire had had enough with Robin, the situation was worse than he'd thought, and if she'd stopped trying to call him, Robin's lifeline to the Tower had basically been cut.

The plan was simple, really: Cyborg would drive over to Coal, give Robin the supplies, get a feeling for how well he was holding up, and, well… try not to lecture him. Giving Robin a speech about the faults in his plan, interrogating him in a hope to get him to see the flaws for himself, would do nothing but make matters worse. It would put Robin on the defensive, in which case he wouldn't back down, let alone concede, even if he knew Cyborg was right. So instead of all that, Cyborg planned on doing more listening and watching than talking. He was trying to think of this trip as more of a reconnaissance mission. He'd take account of how Robin was doing physically- was he eating? sleeping? taking proper care of any battle wounds? more than likely not- and give a full account to the team. Well, he'd give a full account to Raven and Beast Boy. Depending on how Robin was holding up, he was prepared to give Starfire the censored version. And, if the timing was right, he'd drop hints about the need for a leader at the Tower, the way they all missed him, the way a certain Tamaranian missed him… And then he'd go from there.

Cyborg placed the box with Robin's birdarangs and freeze discs into the trunk and got into the driver's seat. He'd told the others where he was going, and had assured them he'd be back by tomorrow morning, at latest. But it was highly unlikely that Cyborg wouldn't be back tonight.

Knowing Robin, he'd want Cyborg out of his territory as fast as possible.

Robin walked down the stairs of his apartment building, using the back entrance to get to where his motorcycle was parked. Grabbing his helmet and adjusting it on his head, Robin sat down, revved the engine and pulled onto the street. He kept his mouth in a hard line, his eyes narrowed in concentration. It was hard to drive when you kept thinking about something else.

Was I really so difficult that she needed to leave me? Robin asked himself before trying to clear his head. It doesn't matter. I don't care.

He continued on for a number of blocks, looking out for anyone in need of his services. With Cyborg arriving in three or four hours, Robin wouldn't start a new search today, lest he actually pick up a trail and then be dragged back to his apartment by Cyborg. Instead he'd spend the day much like he had at the Tower, breaking up small crime and maybe doing some research on his computer. Either way, he'd keep busy.

Robin turned another corner and passed the street where he had had his chat with Scatto all those weeks ago. It hadn't been a terribly long time, but it felt like forever.

Almost as long as it's been since I've seen Star. How long has it been?

He bit his lip and sped up. Robin needed to find something to keep himself occupied for the next few hours. Sighing, he thought about how much time was being wasted today, just going after minor crooks and having the obligatory visit with Cyborg when he could be tracking down Slade. If his team wanted him to come back to the Tower so badly, why were they keeping him from doing work? Didn't they understand that the more time he spent updating them, the less time he spent getting things done?

She of all people should understand that. She's the reason I'm not getting work done right now. I can't see her if I need to focus on tracking down Slade.

Robin pulled over to the side of the road and got off his bike, stretching his arms over his head. His cape and shoes felt strangely heavy, and his gloves irritated the pads of his fingers. He shook his head and got back on his bike.

I don't have time for her. I don't need her. I don't miss her. She's too much of a distraction.

Suddenly a gunshot sounded out, making Robin jump. He cursed himself for getting caught up in his thoughts, turned his motorcycle towards the sound of people screaming and stepped on the gas.

See? Just a distraction.

Robin sped down the street, coming around a corner just in time to see a man dressed all in black- classic "robber" gear- descend the steps of a small bank. In one hand he waved a gun at the bank doors, and in the other he clutched a suitcase, presumably full of money. The robber began to get on a motorcycle, and Robin started towards him. At the sound of the R-Cycle's engine the robber turned around, saw Robin, muttered a curse, and screeched down the street. Robin followed.

The man had obviously used a motorcycle before, as he took the sharp turns and dodged between traffic almost as well as Robin did. But his constant looks behind him kept him from gaining too much distance, and Robin had soon closed the space to just a few feet.

Distractions are dangerous. I need to keep my full focus on my job, not on anyone else. Not even on her.

The voice of the robber pulled Robin back to the present. "Back off, kid!" The man shouted, turning his head just a little to make sure he was heard over the engines and rushing wind. "Stay back, you hear me! I've got a gun and I know how to use it!"

I don't need her. I don't miss her.

"Congratulations, you've just threatened to use force and therefore have increased your jail time," Robin shouted to him in response. The thief increased his speed. So did Robin.

This was what I was always worried about, remember? That if I was with someone- that if I was with her- it would endanger her and me and anyone else that got involved.

A bullet zipped past Robin's head, and another one sprung off one of his handlebars. Robin moved over about a foot and started accelerating, until finally we was almost right beside the other man, just a few inches behind him on the left side.

"Pull over and drop your weapon!" Robin shouted, trying to gain enough speed to cut the robber off. He turned his attention from the man to the street ahead of them, trying to find the right place to swing his bike in front of the other man's.

"No way in hell, kid!"

I don't miss her smile and her laugh and the way her eyes sparkle and how she's the only one that really listens and really cares.

The robber switched his gun to his left hand. "Get out of my way!"

Robin narrowed his eyes and began to pull ahead.

I don't need her to be there for me.

Robin yelled out in pain as the robber slammed the butt of his gun onto Robin's right hand, where it lay on the motorcycle handle. He heard and felt the distinct crack that meant that bones were being broken, and blood trickled down the handlebar. Robin clenched his teeth and tried his best to hold onto the handle, but the sudden shooting pain and the blood making slippery trails along the handle forced him to drop his right hand by his side. And with only one hand steering and the other broken and useless, he quickly lost control, his bike veering left and ramming into a wall, smashing the left side of his body with the impact.

The robber didn't stick around, driving away with a screech as Robin slumped on his bike, breathing heavily.

I don't need her.

God, I need her.

The T-Car hummed softly as it drove through Coal City, its sleek blue and silver body and un-cracked windows setting it apart from the other run-down if not broken-down vehicles on the streets. The deeper into Coal Cyborg had driven the worse the city had become, until every building looked to be on the verge of collapse and even the sky seemed to be tinted an unwelcoming grey. Homeless people perched on street corners, and it was hard to tell what were gunshots or cars back-firing. Cyborg knew none of Coal was exactly gorgeous, but this was by far one of the worst areas.

And of course this is where Robin chooses to live, Cyborg thought as he rounded another corner, looking for the street called Bradley. He finally found it, and drove slowly down the street until he came to a dilapidated brick building. 1220 Bradley Street. Home sweet home.

After some consideration, Cyborg decided to park his car in front of the apartment building. He figured it was between being parked in the front, where it was easily visible to both Cyborg and hoodlums, or in the back, where it was not easily visible to Cyborg or the hoodlums. Parked in the front Cyborg had a better chance of seeing any potential carjackers from upstairs. Hopefully.

He got out of the car and was about to retrieve the box of Robin's things from the trunk, but instead went directly to the front door. This way, he would have some leverage if Robin refused to talk. It wasn't much, but with things already bad, it was hard to see them getting any worse.

Entering the building and walking up the stairs to get to the fourth and top floor, Cyborg took a careful look at his surroundings. The building hadn't been cleaned for at least a year, and cigarette buds, beer cans, and other assorted pieces of trash lay noticeable in every corner. The paint was peeling from the walls and the doors, and many doors didn't even have a number on them, just an imprint where the brass numbers once were. The stairs creaked under Cyborg's weight, but he went on.

The door for room 34 was no better off than the others. It was a corner room on the top floor of the building, and Cyborg noted the room could be broken into by even the most amateur thief; the beaten-up door and shoddy doorknob would make for incredibly easy entering. Cyborg found himself hoping that Robin really had run out of freeze discs and birdarangs and that he wasn't in need of them because they had mysteriously vanished while he was out hunting criminals.

Cyborg knocked and waited for Robin to answer. The thought had crossed his mind that Robin wouldn't be home, and in all likelihood he wasn't, but Cyborg didn't know where else to go. He was about to call Robin on his communicator- although the chances of Robin answering his comm. were about the same as him being home- but to Cyborg's surprise the door opened and he was met with a very exhausted-looking Robin.

I wonder how much sleep he's been getting, Cyborg asked himself, but outwardly he smiled. "Robin. Good to see you. It's been a while."

"Yeah, I guess it has been." Robin stood back and let Cyborg enter before closing the door again. "Did you bring the things?"

Cyborg nodded. "They're in the car. I'll bring them up in a minute. I thought we could just talk first." Cyborg was doing his best to take a look around without seeming to pry. He frowned at what he saw. The room was in shambles, a bed and nightstand in one corner, a lamp in another, and a door that he could only imagine would lead to a bathroom with no water pressure. Weapons, clothing, and electronics were spread out all over the bed, and Cyborg found himself wondering where Robin slept, also noticing the window on the wall across the way that although closed still allowed gusts of cold wind into the room.

"What did you want to talk about?" Robin stood in a corner darkened by shadows, his arms crossed. Cyborg glanced over at him and for the first time noticed the bruise on the left side of his face and on his arm.

"Man, what happened? You look like you fell down a flight of stairs… on only one side." Cyborg turned on the light in the corner and then walked towards Robin, who was trying to scowl, but looked too tired and dejected to do so. "Seriously, what happened?"

"I lost control of my motorcycle and hit a wall. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine to me."

Robin sighed. "Cyborg-"

"Robin, what happened to your hand?" Cyborg had caught the glimpse of white bandages from where Robin's right hand lay tucked beneath his left arm.

"Nothing happened. I told you, I lost control of my bike."

"Then why is your left side all banged up but your right hand is in a bandage?"

"I took care of it, okay? I'm fine."

Cyborg frowned. "Robin, I'm not gonna lecture you or tell you to come home, but I'm not gonna just sit around if you're getting hurt and not taking care of it." When Robin didn't respond, Cyborg asked, "Is it broken?"

"Yeah. Three fingers."

"Damn, how'd you do that?"

Robin spoke as Cyborg grabbed his hand and began unwrapping the bandages. "I was chasing some thief and he smashed my hand with his gun, and I couldn't control my motorcycle and ran into a wall."

"Put your hand out flat."

Robin winced as he tried to keep his hand straight, but did as he was told. Cyborg re-wrapped his hand and tied off the ends. "You need to get that in a splint."

"I will when I have time. I've broken my hand before, you know."
"You've broken your arm before, not your hand. It's different."

Robin consented, "Okay, I'll get it taken care of. What did you want to talk about?"

Cyborg walked past Robin to the door. "Know anywhere we can get something to eat?"

"Yeah."

"Come on, we can talk there."

Robin gave Cyborg directions to Joe's Coffeehouse a couple miles away, and said he'd meet him there. There was a debate on whether Robin would ride in the T-Car or take his motorcycle, but Robin had insisted he take his motorcycle, even though it was damaged from its collision. He'd told Cyborg that he wanted to go back into the city after they left the cafe, and even though Cyborg had been frustrated he'd conceded, not wanting to push things.

They met ten minutes later. Joe's Coffeehouse was just what the name implied, a small diner that served sandwiches and coffee. Robin and Cyborg sat down at a table and both ordered coffee. Cyborg hadn't really been hungry; he just wanted to get Robin out of his downbeat apartment.

"So how're things going?" Cyborg asked, hoping Robin wouldn't flip out and start yelling. Instead, Robin just shrugged.

"Fine. I've found a lot of leads."

"Did they go anywhere?"

"Some of them did."

Cyborg nodded. Robin may have been willing to talk, but he wasn't going to make it easy.

"What do you really want to know, Cyborg?" Robin sat back and looked at the ceiling. "What are you really asking me?"

Cyborg was quiet for a moment, trying to read Robin. "What are you doing, Robin? What exactly are you looking for?"

Robin sighed. "You know who I'm looking for."

"Yeah."

"And you're going to tell me to stop looking. You're going to tell me he's dead."

"No, I'm not. I think you should come back, but you wouldn't listen to me even if I asked you to. But I want to know." Cyborg paused for a second. "Are you willing to let it go if you find out he's really gone?"

Robin looked at Cyborg. "Why wouldn't I?"

"What if you found out today he was gone? Would you come home today?"

"How am I supposed to know if he's really gone, Cyborg? I'm just supposed to find a body and believe that it's real?" To Cyborg's surprise, Robin had spoken these words quietly, almost sadly.

"Well… How would you know?" Robin turned away. "Is there something you're looking for? 'Cause we can help find it, if there is."

"You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me."

"Why can't you just believe me!" Robin put his hands on the table and leaned forward, finally exasperated. "Why can't you just take my word for it that I know what I'm doing and I can do it on my own!"

"Because you don't need to do it on your own. That's why you have a team, Rob."

"Well we never stopped him before!" Robin propped his head on his hand and let out a breath. "Look, Cy, I appreciate you guys wanting to help. But I need to do this on my own. I'm not going back to Jump. There's nothing for me in Jump right now."

Cyborg sighed. "Robin, everything that's happened in the past three years has sucked. I know that. The team knows that. Maybe you just need some time off, and that's cool. But don't abandon us, and don't think we're abandoning you."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Robin mumbled.

"Starfire didn't abandon you, either."

Robin looked up at him. After a moment he spoke. "What?"

"She's not abandoning you. She's just tired of worrying about you. And trust me, man. She's still worried about you."

Robin glanced down at his hands and swallowed. "Well, if that's the case… Then why did she...?" Robin trailed off.

"Robin, we both know it's not fair to either of you. Did you really think she'd just sit tight while you played hero in a totally different city? But… do you really think she's given up on you? Do you really think she's stopped caring about you?" Robin didn't answer. "She hasn't."

When Robin didn't say anything Cyborg stood and put a five dollar bill on the table. "Come on, I'll give you your stuff. It's in the trunk."

Robin got up and followed Cyborg outside to the T-Car, where Cyborg picked up the heavy box and handed it over to Robin.

"You sure you can take it on your motorcycle? I can drive it back for you."

Shaking his head, Robin said, "No, it's fine. I can strap it to the back." Cyborg waited as Robin hooked the box to the back of the bike, and suddenly a thought came into Cyborg's head.

"Didn't you say you were gonna go back into the city from here?"

Robin was putting on his helmet, and having trouble securing it under his chin. "Yeah."

"How are you gonna fight crime with that box on your bike?"

Taking a look behind, Robin shrugged and faced Cyborg again. "I guess I'll take it home first."

Cyborg nodded, and Robin was about to take off when Cyborg stopped him.

"Hey, you know, anytime you want to come back you can. Even if it's just for a day or something."

Robin nodded. "I know."

"No, I mean…" Cyborg walked up to Robin. "Seriously. Just consider it, okay? We're all there for you. And… Star is, too."

Robin nodded. And then he drove away.

Cyborg sighed before turning back to his car. A check of the clock told him it was a little before three. By the time he got back to the Tower it would be close to six. Cyborg stretched, getting ready for the long drive back home.

Robin pulled up to the curb and parked his motorcycle, tracing his fingers along the gashes in the metal before picking up the box with his weapons in it and bringing it upstairs. For some reason his room felt a lot colder and emptier than it had before. He dropped the box on his bed and tore it open, counting the freeze discs and birdarangs before adding a couple of each to his utility belt. Then he sat down on the bed.

So she still cared about him, huh?

Robin lay back and closed his eyes.

Thank you, God.