A/N: : Hopefully, this makes up for my long absence. If it doesn't, well, damn. So, to whoever likes to make guesses, about the story, make a guess about the road Robin could take. Read you, maybe, in the reviews.
Also, thank you for your sincerity Miss Geek. I am sorry to see you go. I don't really why know you lost interest, is it because of the storyline or because of the lack of updates? Anyway, the second option I could try to do better regarding how much I update. I want to make this story as best as I can, and thats exactly why feedback helps me to achieve it.
On with the story!
-Well then? Have you looked at the file Officer Grayson?- The room around me feels tight, the air is heavy. I know what can happen to Karen, Bumblebee, my friend. She must identify me, but then again I only four people recollect how my face looks without the mask.
-Yes, Ofc. Lt. Troy.- I say meekly. I don't know why she asks me, it is not as I was going to send Karen to prison right?
-That's quite all right, now, Officer, give us a recap about what happened.- She says with confidence, and that makes me quite uncomfortable. I take my eyes off her and land them on Karen and her lawyer. Karen is starting into space with no emotion whatsoever and her lawyer on the other hand is looking royally pissed. Her smug face is gone, and I finally take in her appearance. She is formally dressed on a dark grey suit with a black button-up shirt. As I stare at her, she decides to move her head in my direction and looks me dead in the eye. She has really hard icy deep blue looking eyes, and this three seconds are enough to get chills down my spine. It's like as she could be inside my mind and poke every memory or feeling. Weird.
-Right, well. The defendant was actively promoting an anti-government message on social media and on traditional means. She also has been suspected of spreading misinformation of our regimen on newspapers and current conventions. At the time of her apprehension, she was one of the main leaders of today's anti-regimen manifestation. Also, she apparently engaged on an undercover mission to overthrow the actual government for the looks of the evidence.- I recite the file as I lock eyes with my boss. She doesn't look at all happy, it is as she was proving a point against this lawyer. I mean, she has been properly patient with her, first with the Mes kid and now with Karen.
-Much appreciated Officer Grayson. As you can imagine Mrs. Roth, I can not possibly let free Mrs. can I offer a bail. As you should already now, the article no. 114 of the Criminal Code of Jump City, establish that anyone who acts with the intention of overthowing the one in charge of government, will receive fifteen years of prison and no bail, nevertheless the circumstances, intensity of the act or age or gender of the aggressor. What Mrs. Beecher did, completely covers the description of the crime. And if this is a violation of the first amendment, I am sure one of our judges will determine it. Believe me, Mrs. Roth, I will pick my best prosecutor to deal with this case and ask him to give it all of his attention. You can show yourself out, and you Mrs. Beecher wait here.- Ofc. Lt. Troy said all of that with a mask of calmness but that did sound as a threat. The lawyer appeared to be unfaced, except when she quickly squeezed Karen's arm. I waited on the corner for the lawyer to stand up. She let her arm fall and stands up. She glanced at my direction and settled her gaze on my eyes as I feel something tug at my insides. She is turning her back and from the door says;
-Mrs. Beecher, please remain silent. If someone touches as much as a hair and tries to make you say something prejudicial, remember it is your right to not talk. I wouldn't put it past this place. And Ofc. Troy, I will be seeing you soon, and it is Roth-Worth.- She walks out the door, and I return to face a defeated Karen. She hasn't look up to Ofc. Lt. Troy since I entered the room a while ago.
-Officer Grayson, please take Mrs. Beecher to cell no. 3.- She says, and just like that she turns to her work leaving no room for a doubt about her intentions. I see Karen with sadness, because truly, her crimes would be punished horribly, and not only with prison. I take slow steps to get to her chair and before I can touch her she snaps out of reverie and begins to make her way to the door. I open the door for her, and I immediately stop. The lawyer was waiting outside the door.
I step aside to give her space, just in case she needs to enter Ofc. Lt. Troy. She is about my same height, maybe being a little taller than me, and she doesn't move. I stand petrified, with Karen by my side, but as the seconds go by I move towards the registration area. I notice I have both Karen and the lawyer on my heels, so I just try to stay ahead.
Reaching the register desk, a guy, presumably the responsible officer, barks at me to give him the file of the defendant. I want to facepalm me immensely. Meanwhile, I was flustered by the lawyer I forgot the file at the Ofc. Lt. Troy office. I turned around and faced the prim looking lawyer and poor Karen.
-I need to go for the file, stay her Mrs. - Before they could say a word I bolted to my boss's office. Passing many officers I reach the door and there is already a hand on the file I missed. Ofc. Lt. Troy merely offers me a faint smile and gives me the file. Now I allow me moving at a slow pace before I reach the registration. Karen is my friend, but I cannot arrange anything to prevent her entering that cells. The crime was carried out; the law is at the moment irrevocable, the lawyer made her points, but it wasn't enough. I reached the desk, delivered the officer the requested file and he turned to fill other formats on the computers.
I glanced towards Karen and the lawyer, and I found them seated across the station, on a bench that needs maintenance and they looked, despite their size, incredibly small and lost. Karen was crying discreetly while the lawyer was hugging her. It's is dreadful, but the law remains the law. Don't get me wrong, I have conflicting feelings about it, but after all I'm with law enforcement. Also, I'm quite sure, my boss, won't put Karen through unnecessary pain. She is a good person.
After observing them for some time, I turn myself to the register officer. He transfers me Karen's file with the newly admission car attached and delivers me a card thats displays a black sticker with Jump's City law enforcement logo and the number 3 printed on. Sighing I walk towards them and I stop a few feets away before quite reaching them. I note how Karen slowly backs away from the lawyers hug and stands up. The lawyerstops her gently and whispers something in her ear I can't really hear. She lets go of Karen and looks at me again in the eye. I don't thoroughly grasp why she continues scrutinizing me so much, but it is making me awkward around her. I escort Karen through a narrow hallway onto the cell area and gently move around her. I navigate through the cells to find number 3 and swiftly pass the card through the electronic lock. The lock presents a little green tick and it unlocks the cell as it slides one of the steel doors to the left and Karen slowly steps inside.
What I am concerned with is that Karen must fathom something about me. I mean, if she knows, it is likely Slade heretofore knows about me. But I'm in fact quite standard looking. Black short hair, normal face, generic looking skin shade, average, if not lesser height. No tattoos, no piercings, neither distinctive scars. Every so often I wonder if I'm completely ordinary looking, that I can disappear on a crowd and take refuge in masses. Because that would be critical if I solely choose to wear a mask, and it would be great if I can just wear a mask and not add, at least at the beginning, 40 pounds of a tactical suit.
I roll to the cool side of my bed. It is around 2 am, or at least that is what my phone shows. Even though it has around 30% of life, I clutch it, carefully so the charger doesn't disconnect and begin searching for my team. Stalking is an ability I possess a certain amount of experience only titan I know that has or had in fact social media is unsurprisingly Garfield, Beast Boy. I open his account, but as every day I see that he hasn't uploaded anything new since 6 years ago. The last picture was of us, and the comments keep on piling. I'm going to read the hate comments again, because honestly I deserve them. I scroll through the comment section, and I catch myself stopping at one in particular. 'So much for having someone who protect us from evil' He or she is right. I decide to open the replies, and there are some comments supporting this person, 'Who needs them, we needed them years ago and we managed' 'Screw them.' 'They destroyed the infrastructure and then leaves it to the taxpayers to fix, Wilson has actually bring the city up from its knees.'
Only if they knew that their Wilson provoked all of our fights, and meanwhile we crashed one building or too, we avoided thousands of dollars on damage from Slades plans.
To prevent myself from answering rather rudely, and also avoiding getting caught by my IP address I throw my phone to the floor. I sit up quickly and peek to see if in my childish tantrum I broke my phone. I see that unfortunately, yes the screen has a gash at the bottom, but other than that, the phone appears to be fine. I stand from the bed, take my phone off the floor and reconnect it to the charger.
I'm getting feed up that for every follow-up I need to run upstairs, grab the file, ran downstairs, ask for Ofc. Lt. Troy a small corner on her desk to put down the file and my computer, ask permission to use her scanner and printer and her stapler. The first days were alright, but I find myself asking for something all the time. I look up to see her tires eyes and I ponder if I should ask if I could take her phone charger off the floor plug and connect my laptop because it has 2% and it dying. And I want to finish this last report.
Shaking physically my head, I found her staring at me. I feel my face redden, and I helplessly show her my laptop charger. She struggles to no let out a sigh and moves her eyes down to the floor plug and disconnects her phone charger and yanks my laptop charger from my hands and almost violently plugs it.
-Maybe, Grayson, you should take the office next to mine.- She lifts her eyes to mine and slouches in her chair.
-Absolutely ma'am, but it is occupied. Are you okay Lieutenant?- I found myself asking. I know Ofc. Lt. Troy is a hard almost ice woman but usually she is polite towards me, even sweet on a motherly manner.
-Do you remember last week's case? Karen Beecher?- Oh no. Karen said something on me, and she is trying to cover for me.
-Yes, ma'am. Is something wrong regarding myself?-
-No, Grayson. It's nothing about you. It's her lawyer.- OH. That's a relief? Thankfully it is not about me. That means either Karen has my back or she doesn't knows.
-Oh. Did she theatened you? She sounded thoroughly upset the last time.-
-Grayson, relax. She indeed promoted a complaint against me. It is the second time.- She unlocked a drawer on her desk and handed me the official complaint. It stated in bold letters that Ofc. Lt. Troy has violated the criminal detention protocol by not letting the defendant retain a lawyer at all times. I look up and stutter.
-I mean, you only asked her to leave the room at last because she was reactive, it wasn't as you had her lawyer outside the room and interrogated Mrs. Beecher alone. With all due respect, you didn't deserve this complaint ma'am, you one of the most methodical officers around.- She just gives me a little lopsided smile.
-If this goes to the Control Unit, where this kind of complaints are dealt with, I know you are going to be on my side.-
-Of course ma'am. Whenever.-
We both returned to our work, and I'm quite satisfied she knows I will back her up. I'm part of her team. We worked silently for most of the day until the infamous lawyer came around and demanded to speak with her client. Ofc. Lt. Troy just looked at me and as I was standing up she grabbed my arm and restrains me gently. She proceeded to recite the guidelines to speak with temporary station detainees. As the lawyer accepts she departs, and leaves us in the room and I proceed with my work, digitizing the damn follow ups.
-What are you doing honestly?- I'm not surprised the attorney has the nerve to speak to me, but I don't think she is interested on my digitized follow-ups.
-Working on follow-ups?- Is my initial instinct to reply. I look up from my screen, and she is grasping one chair and with her other hand rest on her hip.
-Seriously, Richard Grayson.- I feel a little unsettled. That is indeed my name, but something in the way she said it lifts a red flag.
-Yes,...Mrs. Rorth?- I say firmly and her face breaks on a sad and angry grimace.
-Mrs. Roth-Worth, Robin.
A/N: As always, hope you like this chapter. Feedback is always welcome.