Little Bird's Vengeance Chapter 32 Old Questions

Steve finally found him. After Bruce and Jane had begged off any further research that night and gone to bed, Tony had retreated to his workshop and Red had made his way to the kitchen, and the coffee pot. Steve watched for a moment as the teen took a sip from his steaming mug, and skimmed through another page in his big stack of papers. "Red Robin?" he said at last, stepping into the room.

"Hmm?" Red said absently, not looking up.

Steve fidgeted, but it had to be done. "We need to talk."

Red looked up, and put aside his files. "Okay," he said. "Coffee?"

"No thanks," Steve declined, taking a seat opposite. "It's about that skirmish the other day."

"What about it"

"I was wrong not to listen to you," he admitted bluntly. "It was a mistake, it got you hurt, and I'm sorry."

Red just shrugged. "It's okay. No big deal."

"I- but-" Steve tried to start.

"Captain Rogers," Red said firmly. "You got it wrong once. Everyone does. It's not about being perfect; it's a matter of recognising mistakes – which you've done – and learning from them. Understand?"

"I guess," Steve sighed. "Leading the Avengers is a very different dynamic to my Howling Commandos during the war."

"I'm not surprised," Red acknowledged. "I'm guessing they were all quite similar, right? Once you got past the different specialities and backgrounds and little eccentricities, I'm guessing they were pretty much the same in terms of base skill and temperament and motivation. You were all soldiers, there to defeat the big bad Nazi bullies. Am I right?"

Steve frowned, thinking it through. "Well, yeah, I guess so," he accepted. "But the Avengers are very different, is that what you're saying?"

"Exactly," Red nodded. "You are an army captain. Thor is a prince of his people and thunder god. Tony is a gifted inventor with an erratic streak the size of the Atlantic Ocean. Dr Banner has anger issues and a fairly massive guilt complex. Clint and Tasha are spies, and assassins if needed, but they're still very individualistic. You're not very similar, and that's going to cause you a lot of difficulties, but it's also a strength when you know how to wield it."

Steve swallowed. As Tony had pointed out, Red did know a lot more about leading a team than he did, but it was fairly galling to admit to a kid that he needed their help. "How do I do that?" he asked. "Can you…give me some tips?"

Red smiled. "Sure. It's not that hard to grasp the basics. First, knowledge is power. Not just your enemies; although it's certainly useful to go into a fight knowing your opponent's Achilles heel. But your team's strengths and weaknesses and limits. How fast can Iron Man go, and for how long? How many megavolts can Thor produce with his lightening? Does Hulk's strength increase in direct proportion to the deterioration of his emotional state, or are there other factors? What are they; and is there an upper limit?"

"How can you know this kind of stuff" Steve interrupted. "And why would you want to?"

Red cocked his head and looked at him speculatively. "Bart's upper speed limit is unknown," he said, and Steve frowned at the non-sequitor. "It's faster than we have the ability to measure, which is enough for all practical purposes. Yesterday, he couldn't fly a Quinjet. But because I know how fast he can read and understand, say, a flight manual, I could tell him what he needed to do to get the necessary knowledge when I needed it. Knowing that, my team mate's capability saved several lives yesterday. It also means that if I needed something retrieved from the other side of the world, I just have to describe it and its location and I know he can get it for me. Knowing I have that ability on my team can be a much greater tactical advantage than simply having it, but not knowing I have it. Understand?"

"I think so," Steve said. "It isn't quite about having the raw data but knowing what people can do and using that."

"Exactly," Red nodded. "As for how to get information? You just need to talk to them. Tony, Clint and Tasha can probably tell you straight away everything you need to know, Dr Banner and Thor can give you some pointers, then ask Tony; he can work out some tests for how to get your answers." He paused, and took another sip of his coffee. "Then you've got to learn how to take advantage of that extra knowledge. Work out the best strategy for certain situations and how to adapt as needed. Train together as a team, one-on-one, whatever works. We Titans will be training together while we're here, so you can see how we do it. For example, I spar with each of them twice, once with them handicapped power-wise, once without. That way, they fight as though I were of equal power and learn how to win in that circumstance, and I learn how to fight someone who outclasses me."

"Makes sense," Steve nodded, understanding what Red meant. He took a moment to absorb the information and think through all the interactions between the Titans he'd seen so far. "Earlier, you did something with a bullet?"

Red smirked. "Tasha didn't think they could defend themselves," he said. "All three of them can move faster than a bullet. When they heard the gunshot, they sped up their reactions and thought processes to…sort of…buy time. Bart says it's like the world stands still, and he's separate from it, and he moves among the still people. Kon and Cassie say it's like everything slows down around them. I mean, they can move fast without speeding up their senses, but that doesn't help unless they already know what to do. So they sped up, and found the source of the gunshot. The gun was in my hand, pointed over my shoulder directly at Kon. We sometimes bounce bullets about the place in case we ever land in a gunfight, so he knew to let it rebound rather than catch it. Then it headed to Cassie, who was fast enough to raise her arm so it bounced off her cuff. When it had an empty flight path for a bit, Bart could get in front of it, and bring it to his speed, until it was no longer going by its own velocity. Then he stepped back to where he'd started, making it look like the bullet disappeared. Now, before we started working together, a stunt like that would have ended badly. But because we've worked together and trained together, we know how to act in certain circumstances, and to play with those circumstances."

Steve nodded. "What else?" It was true that the Titans had worked like a well-oiled machine, except when Cassie put her foot down on Red running around while injured. Knowledge and training had to be part of it, but surely there was something more.

"That's it, really," Red answered shrugging his less-injured shoulder. "There's not much more you can do. The rest is just a product of experience, practise, saving each others' lives from time to time. It comes of its own accord. Be patient."

Steve nodded again, slowly. "I see," he murmured. "Thanks, I appreciate that."

"No problem; I don't want another mess-up either. Speaking of, we'll have to discuss how to get our teams working together sometime," Red smiled over the top of his cup. He drained it and set it down. "Oh, about limits. There are four different types. The first limit is what you can do comfortably. Most people in the general population stop there. Next level is what you can do safely. Then there's what you can do without immediate risk of fatality; and finally, what you can do at the near-certain risk of being killed. I tend to skirt the third, on the verge of the fourth, but you've probably noticed Cassie would prefer I stuck to the second."

"Yeah, which you're not doing now," the amazon girl said from the door. "Rob, you're meant to be getting some rest."

"I've got work, Cassie," Red protested mulishly.

"Is it something that's likely to pop up before tomorrow lunchtime?" she asked, amused.

"Possibly."

"Thought not."

Steve laughed at their quick, easy back-and-forth. There was no bitterness, no anger, none of the conflict that marked his own disagreements with Tony. Where their arguments were a battle for dominance, the teens' was marked by the obvious concern for their own priorities, whether that was the wellbeing of the team or the completion of whatever goals were currently before them.

"Look, I'm not patrolling, am I?" Red pointed out.

"True," Cassie agreed. "For that, I won't tie you to your bed. I'm just insisting you go there."

"I've just consumed a stimulant," Red protested, pointing to his coffee.

"You've been immune to that stuff for years," Cassie disagreed. "Bed. Now."

"Yes, mother," Red huffed, draining the rest of his cup. He gathered his papers and stood. "Night Cassie, Steve."

Cassie watched her teammate leave and dropped into an empty chair. "How long have you been leading the Avengers?" she asked.

"Few months," Steve shrugged.

"Rob giving you some pointers?" Steve shrugged again, abashed. Cassie smiled. "His way works, for him at least. I inherited the framework of his leadership, so trust me, he knows his stuff. But there's one thing you're always got to remember with him."

"What?" Steve asked, ever so slightly nervous.

"He has his own priorities," Cassie said simply. "One of which is ensuring he can stop or even kill any of us if necessary. And almost certainly you as well. Not that he would, if he didn't have to, but no matter how strong and powerful we are, he knows some way around it. Having someone who can do that is necessary, because we can all be compromised one or way or another, although he hates having that knowledge. But he's still human; still as vulnerable as any of the people we protect. He just shields it with layers of protection. He's quite likely one of the most dangerous people in the world." She stood again. "I should make sure he actually has gone to bed. Goodnight."

Steve stared after her long after she'd departed. Everything Red counselled made sense. But with Cassie's warning, it was hard not to wonder how much data gathered to strengthen the team could also be used to destroy it.

AN: Sorry this is late; I've had a really bad week.

Also updating today, we have Family Ties. Next week, more here, and more Family Ties.

Usual request for reviews, etc.

See ya next week,

Katara