"I'm sorry about the way I acted in the medbay." It's a simple statement but honest. Nightwing isn't one for pomp. Garfield scratches at his neck.
"You know I'd never purposely hurt you, right?" he asks. Nightwing nods. Once. Evenly. The silence that follows indicates that the conversation is over but neither teammate moves.
"What do you want to say?" Garfield asks, when the skin of his neck starts to sting from rubbing too much. Nightwing clasps his hands behind his back. His face holds the same expression it does when he's strategizing.
"I've been putting my foot in my mouth lately but you know that I love this team," Nightwing says. Garfield removes his hand from his neck, lips parting. It's as close to an 'I love you' as anyone on the team (outside of Starfire of course) is going to get.
"We're family; you don't have to walk on eggshells around me."
"It's not 'purposeful actions' that I'm afraid of."
"Yeah man, I caught that from the last time we had this conversation and I get it.. I get it. But you gotta understand me when I say that these were special circumstances and I have had control of the Beast for years now. There have even been times that I've transformed into him without hurting any team member."
"Have you ever considered turning into him more?" Nightwing asks. The question spews out of his mouth right when Garfield finishes his sentence. The titan's team leader was always one for efficient time use.
"Have I-What?"
Garfield opens and closes his mouth a couple of times. What was Nightwing up to? Was he trying to assure his own security?
Nightwing shrugs, crossing his arms.
"You said it yourself. The Beast has come out before successfully. Why was this time different?"
"Raven's brothers."
"Raven's brothers can only manipulate what is already there."
"I already told you that that wasn't-"
"I'm not accusing you," Nightwing interrupts, sticking up a hand. "But the Beast is a part of you, whether you like it or not," Nightwing says, pausing to gauge whether Garfield was going to object to that statement. The changeling gestures for him to continue.
"You remember what happened when Raven did not allow herself to be afraid?" Nightwing asks.
"Yeah but I can't exactly satisfy the Beast's desire to punch you in the face."
"You're welcome to try but I can't promise I'll make it as easy this time," Nightwing grins, challenging the changeling in good nature. Garfield huffs but his fingers tingle slightly at the sound of competition. "But in all seriousness, maybe the Beast isn't after me so much as he is after what I represent."
"What do you represent, a stress ulcer?"
Nightwing ignores the joke, opting to keep his body tight and face pointed like an arrow. "A barrier to his autonomy. To your autonomy. Being the team's leader was smooth and clean when we were all lost teenagers with no idea of the limits and extremities of our own abilities. But as self-actualized adults, capable of reading our own bodies?"
Garfield felt like a bunch of thin threads were tangling up inside of him as Nightwing was talking, eventually squeezing around his trachea.
"I don't want the Beast to be the thing that forces me to leave the team."
"Changeling, what are you talking about?" Nightwing asks, eyes widening. He takes a step towards the green man whose eyes are reminding him of the scrawny young boy who used to follow him around like a puppy. "There will always be room for you on any team I'm on. I'm only saying you should listen to what the Beast is asking of you. Maybe it's something that you need," Nightwing finishes, putting his hand on either one of Garfield's shoulders. He waits the couple of minutes it takes for Garfield to swallow thickly and nod his response before letting go of his shoulders. Garfield feels Nightwing pulling away before he suddenly uses one hand to grip the side of his neck firmly.
"I've never been good at unknown variables," Nightwing says quickly, before sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. His hand falls off of Garfield's neck and dangles limply at his side.
Garfield has a flashback of when they were sixteen. Robin leaning into his personal space, veins bulging from his neck. Pure anger radiating off of him as Garfield scrambled to piece together scattered pieces of his memory. Feeling like everything was falling through his fingers like sand. Raven. His teammate. His friend. Hurt. Not understanding how his own hands could do that to her. He feels stupid when his eyes start to sting.
Nightwing's words feel like applying salve over a bone deep cut.
Garfield can tell by the way Nightwing quickly averts his eyes that he is reliving the same memory. In an uncharacteristic manner Nightwing scurries off like someone is pulling at his non-existent tail.
Garfield is left with the urge to call his therapist.
Nightwing is so consumed with his thoughts on Garfield that he doesn't see Starfire standing in his way before he bumps into her.
"Oh Star," he says, placing his hands on her arms. She shimmies out of his grip.
"Star?" he asks, reaching out for her again. She takes a step back.
"Let us get some coffee," Starfire says, pointing her chin towards the doors of the common room. She doesn't wait for his response as she moves briskly towards the doors. Nightwing sighs, running a hand through his hair.
He walks behind her like his feet are made of metal. She's already scooping coffee grounds into the k-cup by the time he catches up with her in the kitchen. She doesn't look at him when he sits on a stool at the island across from her.
Her long red locks are up in a messy bun, not even a smidge of makeup on her face. She loves makeup. Nightwing doesn't care whether she wears it or not; he's smart enough to know he has no right to comment on it. He also knows that the only time Starfire doesn't wake up and do her makeup is when she can't because they're on a mission or when she's not up for it emotionally. He sighs again, shoulders drooping a little as he exhales. She immediately snaps her head up, eyebrow raised. His breath catches. She grunts, slamming the keurig shut.
"You will apologize to friend Raven. And friend Garfield. Although I trust that you have already seen the fault in the way you've been communicating with the latter," she says evenly, moving her mug into place. Nightwing crosses his arms over his chest.
"Star-"
"There is no room for objection. We support our family."
"We can't play judge, jury and executioner as the people who have been chosen to protect everyone in the city. We can't discriminate against who receives our help and who doesn't."
"So you believe her decision would have been different than that of the American court system?" Starfire asks, lips pinched up. The milk she was pouring into her coffee is now frozen over her mug.
"What I believe is that we will never get the chance to know what a jury would think because Malchior will never have the opportunity to present himself in front of one."
"You have avoided my question," Starfire says, slamming the milk on the table so hard that it sloshes over the rim a little. She turns her back to Nightwing, going to the cabinet for sugar.
"We have to show mercy. It's the only thing that separates us from them."
Starfire turns around so fast he barely registers it. A few strands of hair fall out of her bun, her eyes glowing slightly.
"Mercy? So you'd rather she have tolerated his verbal abuse and-"
"We deal with verbal abuse everyday. If we killed everyone who cursed us...Kori listen to me-"
"Are you even listening to the words you are saying? That man abused our fifteen year old friend when she was at her most vulnerable. He made her believe that her family did not love her." Starfire's voice cracks, her eyes grow wet. "She did not consent."
Nightwing's words die on his tongue as his love's shoulders start to shake. A couple of tears slide over her bottom eyelids.
"She did not consent. Richard-" Starfire whimpers, placing a hand on her own forehead. Her eyes look big and...scared? Nightwing feels the urge to shield her. Just as quickly as the tears appear, Starfire brushes them away, squaring her shoulders.
"That dragon was alive for centuries. He had every opportunity to be a better being. My love-" Starfire pauses, reaching over the island to grab one of Nightwing's hands. "You must understand that not everyone's soul is redeemable. Yes, some people do evil things because someone else puts darkness in their heart. But for some monsters, hurting others...killing others...bringing a six year old boy to the brink of death...it is a thrill. It was a thrill for Malchior."
"I know this Kori. We've been in this field for how long? You know I know this. I know people can be evil and cruel and disgusting," Nightwing says, placing a hand over their interlocked ones. "But how can I punish criminals for taking lives if I don't honor the sanctity of life myself."
Starfire removes her hand from his.
"What about honoring your friendship? Respecting a woman who has saved your life and healed your wounds. Do you really mean to tell me that her life holds the same value as the life of that dragon?"
Nightwing doesn't say anything. Starfire takes a step back.
"We will not be agreeing on this," she mumbles, searching Nightwing's face.
"I'm sorry Star. I can apologize for yelling at her. I can apologize for disturbing her as she was recovering...I can't look past what she did. She's my family. But I won't."
Starfire brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You speak a lot of mercy for someone who refuses to show it in instances such as these."
The words hit Nightwing squarely in the chest, causing him to lean back on his stool.
"I can show mercy but I will not sacrifice accountability for it."
The common doors open and Cyborg walks. His gait is a little quicker than usual.
"There are visitors at our front door."
Starfire, who has been holding Nightwing's stare, takes a few moments before turning to Cyborg.
"Enemies?"
"A man and a boy. Bringing us baked goods."
Nightwing turns on his stool.
"Baked goods?" he asks, tapping his fingers against his biceps. Cyborg shrugs.
"I don't know man but the bad guys don't normally show up at our front door with cookies."
"Never underestimate the-"
"Enemy. Yes we get it," Cyborg says, rolling his eyes. "So what do we do with them?"
"Let them in," Starfire says. Nightwing shoots her a look. "Or do you propose we send a small child away from our door?"
Nightwing looks at the alien princess.
"Call the rest of the team. We talk to them outside."