Hey. I know I said this would be up Saturday, but I went to see GREENDAY Friday night (totally worth it) so I woke up really late on Saturday and from then on my weekend was a mess (including a power surge that cost me half the chapter---let this be a lesson to you all: you can never hit the 'save' button too often).
Don't forget to read the Red Notes at the end—they help turn my ranting into a half-smart idea.
And a tiny little warning: this chapter's lime-scented. In case anyone minds.
Dedication: To all the wonderful people who reviewed Chapter 1, as well as my twisted little ficlet "Asleep at the Oar"---you are such the best!
Disclaimer: If I owned them, they'd be weirder. Weird's nice, isn't it? I don't.
Excerpt from the Gotham Herald.
BRUCE WAYNE FOUND DEAD
NOVEMBER 29, 2004. GOTHAM CITY. MILLIONAIRE CEO OF WAYNE ENTERPRISES, BRUCE WAYNE, WAS FOUND DEAD IN HIS BED YESTERDAY MORNING. THOUGH THE CAUSES REMAIN UNCOMFIRMED, IT IS WIDELY BELIEVED THAT GOTHAM'S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR DIED OF A CARDIO-PULMONARY ARREST. THE NEWS TOOK MANY BY SURPRISE, AS THE ELUSIVE EXECUTIVE WAS ONLY 48 AND ALLEGEDLY IN EXCELLENT PHYSICAL CONDITIONS. A MEMORIAL SERVICE IN HIS HONOR WAS HELD AT GOTHAM MEMORIAL GARDEN YESTERDAY EVENING, WITH OVER 500 GUESTS COMING FROM ALL OVER THE WORLD AND DIFFERENT LABOR FIELS. GUESTS INCLUDED THE PRESIDENT, LUTHOR CORP'S LEX LUTHOR, SEVERAL WORLD LEADERS, INCLUDING … THE MAYOR AND MOST OF THE CITY'S OFFICIALS INCLUDING COMMISIONER GORDON. THE SEVERAL TIMES 'MAN OF THE YEAR' IS SURVIVED BY HIS ADOPTIVE SON, RICHARD GRAYSON, 19, AND SELENA KYLE, 42, WIDELY RUMORED PARTNER TO THE LATE MULTIMILLIONAIRE, PHYLANTROPIST, AND HUMANITARIAN. FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ON BRUCE WAYNE, SEE INTERNATIONAL PG2, ECONOMY PG1, PEOPLE PG1
And from the Wall Street Journal.
WORLDWIDE UNCERTAINTY: DEATH OF MAGNATE WAYNE THREATENS ECONOMY
AT ONLY TWO DAYS FROM THE UNFORSEEN PASSING OF BUSSINESS GIANT, BRUCE WAYNE, SPECULATION CLOUDS THE AIR. WITH THE OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENT OF WAYNE'S WILL STILL PENDING, MANY EXPERTS TRY TO GUESS WHO WAYNE ENTERPRISES'S NEXT CEO MIGHT BE. MANY AN EYE HAS TURNED TO RICHARD GRAYSON, ADOPTED SON OF THE LATE MULTIMILLIONAIRE, WHO IS LIKELY LEFT AS SOLE HEIR OF THE WAYNE STATE. AT THE PRESENT TIME, W.E. BOARD OF DIRECTORS HAS CEASED MOST OPPERATIONS AND REMAINS SILENT. THE UNCERTAINTY HAS PUT MANY COMPANIES IN JEOPARDY, AS WAYNE ENTERPRISES IS, TOGETHER WITH LUTHOR CORP, ONE OF THE TOP DOGS IN THE WESTERN ECONOMY FOOD CHAIN, AND THE MANY MARKETS IN WHICH IT DABBLES DEPEND ON GREAT PART ON ITS ACTIONS. STOCKS HAVE DROPPED .6 ALREADY AND …
In the Daily Planet.
SUPERHERO SIGHTININGS ACROSS THE WORLD LEAD TO SPECULATION
NOVEMBER 29, 2004. METROPOLIS. SUPERHERO SIGHTINGS WORDLWIDE REACHED AN UNKNOWN LEVEL LAST NIGHT, WITH CONCERNED CITIZENS ACROSS THE GLOBE NOTIFYING AUTHORITIES OF THE STRANGE PHENOMENON. SUPERMAN, WONDER WOMAN, THE FLASH, GREEN LANTERN, AQUAMAN, HAWKGIRL, THE TEEN TITANS, AND THE MARTIAN MAN HUNTER WERE ONLY A FEW OF THE DOZENS THAT ALLEGEDLY CROSSED THE GLOBE TOWARDS AN UNKNOWN DESTINATION. THIS 'MASKED MIGRATION' CAUSED PANIC IN SEVERAL COMMUNITIES, AS MANY FEARED ANOTHER EXTRATERRESTIAL INVATION, SIMILAR TO THE ONE ATTEMPTED NEARLY FIVE YEARS AGO. SO FAR, THE JUSTICE LEAGUE HAS REMAINED SILENT, AND INVESTIGATION CONTINUES.
Such were the news Raven awoke to two days after she left the Tower with Robin. Had it really only been two days? So much had changed since then…and her visit to Gotham had unsettled her tremendously.
Batgirl had clung to Robin since the minute he arrived, never leaving his side. She seemed small and fragile in the shadow of the Boy Wonder, quite unlike the confidently strong young woman Raven had met hardly a year past. In some ways, she could understand; the world had shifted unexpectedly under Barbara Gordon's feet, and she couldn't find her balance now—it was either cling to the boy she had loved, the only vague resemblance of her mentor, or fall into the void.
No, it wasn't Batgirl that puzzled Raven, but Robin. He wasn't the same boy who had heart-brokenly clasped at her in the communications room, but a man in complete control of a volatile situation. Not a whimper, not a tear, not a stutter had crossed him from the moment they had stepped off the R-cycle. In the space of two days, he had contacted the Justice League and the directors' board of Wayne Enterprises, erased all evident tracks of Batman's death in complete secrecy, arranged for Bruce's funeral, avoided and/or answered the overwhelming quantity of reporters that plagued the house and phone, and accomplished a million other tasks Raven couldn't keep track of, the last of which had been the superheroes' own service for the Batman.
Raven shuddered just thinking about it. The night had been moonless, death black, the lake a mirror of sable still waters as they stood on the cliff. So many superheroes had come to honor the Caped Crusader…the entire Justice League, for instance, as well as those who flew solo—though they were quite few nowadays, with the League spanning nearly thirty members. The image of them was tattooed into her brain. She remember how they stood—strong, beautiful, immortal, yet so bitterly powerless. She'd been there, stood as their own beside her fellow Titans, feeling the startling surge of belonging and the devastating wave of grief that swayed the heroes and drew their faces in the iridescent torchlight. Never before had they buried one of their kind, she realized.
They were crazy times, the ones they lived, and superheroes and villains had only arisen for the last twenty years. Thus, never before had a superhero died of natural causes. Killed in battle? Heavens, no! Not the great ones, at least.
And Batman, the Dark Knight, the Caped Crusader, the best of them all…he had been the first to go. She realized the impact this had on the superheroes; she could sense the doubt flickering, growing inside all of them, herself included. It had been a rude awakening. The gods were gone. Vigilantes, avengers, rescuers, crusaders, idealists…they were as one tonight.
Only two stood alone. Robin, for one; his normally excessively cheerful uniform of red, green and yellow looked painfully somber. He stood upright, feet apart, shoulders squared, chin up. The mask shadowed his features, and the night finished the job, making them completely unreadable. But his rigidity betrayed him; Raven could see his pain as it surged through his body, tightening his muscles and veins. He stood closest to the edge, in sight yet apart from the mass of heroes.
The other was Catwoman, the only villain—if ever was she such—to have guessed the significance of Bruce Wayne's death. She had already mourned Bruce as Selena Kyle, and now she mourned Batman as Catwoman. She stood in the back, broken but upright, beautiful in her misery like none Raven had seen. Raven thought she understood; the woman had lost not one, but two lovers at the same time. The other heroes seemed to know that, and acknowledged her right to attendance by leaving her be. They all knew, even if they kept it silent, what transpired between the Cat and the Bat, the tragic love that had gone on forever and was even rumored to have sprung a child.
Raven half-listened to the eulogies Superman and Wonder Woman offered, her concentration focused on Robin. She knew Superman had asked him to speak as well, but she didn't know if he would. She doubted it; with each word, he seemed to sink deeper into sadness. No—anger. It puzzled her.
Robin surprised her when he took the stage after Wonder Woman was done.
"Batman…"his voice was weak. He cleared his throat. Better. "Batman was everything any of us could hope to be. He was strong, intelligent, capable, perseverant and dependable. His lifelong ambition was a world of peace and overall, justice, and he strived to achieve it everyday. I believe he came as close to accomplishing it as any of us ever will. His legacy," here he paused, seemingly uncertain. He began again, "His legacy must not be lost. Let us honor his memory by upholding his ideals for as long as the opportunity is available to us—which is to say, for as long as we remain on Earth. May his untimely end serve as a warning to all of us---"here he seemed to take heart, speaking truly for the first time since his monotonous, robotic speech started, "—we are heroes. Not gods—not gods." With that, he walked away, back to the solace of the cliff's edge, leaving a confused mob behind him.
The Boy Wonder's address had been crisp and dry, hardly what one would expect from Batman's protégée. Raven, however, saw the logic in it---it was none of their business what Robin felt towards his mentor's passing. In fact, she suspected he wasn't even sure himself. Why share, then?
When the ceremony was over, Raven nearly flew out of her place in search of Robin. She saw him from afar, talking quietly to Catwoman. The older woman ran her fingernails tenderly down the side of Robin's face, and walked away. Immediately after, Superman was at Robin's side, placing a heavy-looking hand on his shoulders, which Robin promptly shrugged off. Raven had no idea what transpired between them, but she sensed the same numbing anger emanating from the Boy Wonder as she had before. Abruptly, Robin excused himself and walked away. Raven followed.
She reached him just as he got to the foot of the cliff.
"Robin!" she called to him, and he turned. His face scared her; it was white and dead, its every lined coursed with fury. "What did the Man of Steel want?" Whether he would've answered she never knew, for in that moment, the rest of the Titans reached them. Starfire was at the head of them, and she wasted no time in throwing herself at the Boy Wonder's arms.
"Friend Robin! I am most sorry—this must surely be terribly upsetting! All those heroes…please, tell me how I might help you deal with this painful situation!" Robin looked annoyed, and he answered.
"I'm good, Star. Thanks anyways. I'm kind of tired, so I think I'll just go to bed."
"But Friend Robin, you must share your feeling with us, your friends, so that we might help you administer them appropriately." Robin looked ready to burst, and Cyborg intervened.
"Let him be, Star. He's tired." He tried to gently pull her off the boy.
"Star, I just want to sleep, ok?" Robin forced, desperate.
"No! Look, Friend Robin, I realize how painful this must be, but if you don't talk about it with us, it will only worsen. As your friend, I cannot allow you---"
"Let him be, Star."
"---cannot allow you to suffer thus. I will not let you go until you talk to us about your inner feelings." To prove her point, she grasped his wrists tightly and glared at his masked eyes. Without a word, Robin yanked free and stalked away.
"Friend Robin, stop! I know what it—Don't go! Friend Robin, stop walking, or I might be forced to---" Robin took no notice.
"Let it go, Starfire. He'll be alright." She looked ready to cry, and let Beastboy swing an arm around her shoulders.
"Let's get some sleep, Star. Tomorrow we'll talk with him." The green man promised. The beauty nodded sadly. What she said next, Raven didn't know, because she discreetly took off after Robin, leaving the other three Titans to their own devices.
Raven found him in the study, sitting atop the desk, facing a wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor window, gazing angrily at the dark dark night. He turned instantly when she walked through the door, but didn't greet her. His mask was off, revealing his stormy green eyes. Breathless, Raven walked to the desk and sat beside him.
"Want to tell me what's wrong?" her voice was as blunt as ever, as she tried to avoid flinching at the jaded orbs she had never seen before.
"Nothing is."
"Yes, I believe that." She immediately regretted the comment, but he seemed unprovoked.
"I didn't think you would." Silence.
"You mask is off." Seemed as good a start as any. "What should I call you?"
"Anything's fine." He offered no explanation, and they were quiet for nearly ten minutes, before he said, "Go get some sleep, Rae. You can't fix what's not broken."
"You spent ten minutes thinking up that phrase?" Again, she cringed. If she wanted him to talk, she needed to stop attacking him. Fuck it. "And by the way, I wasn't aiming to fix."
"No?"
"I was shooting for breaking." She held her breath. If she'd done her job right, he might just open up a notch. Not that she had any idea what to do if he did, of course, but still…
I was shooting for breaking. Her words struck a nerve. He really didn't feel like discussing the issues at hand…but he did feel like a chat. Breaking. He knew there were a lot of things in his head just waiting to be cracked and spilled. It occurred to him that, with Bruce gone, only two people knew anything about him—the real him, that is,—Barbara and Alfred. It saddened him, and suddenly he knew what he wanted to say.
"I wasn't always Bruce's son, you know. For over half my life, I was a member of the Graysons—the number one acrobat family this side of the big pond." He knew it wasn't what she expected, but it would have to do. "We used to tour the whole country, never staying anywhere more than a couple of days, a week at the most." He felt himself smile. "I learned to fly before I learned to talk. It may not seem like much to you—flying being a natural-born ability and all---but to me…I can't describe it. Rae, it's the best thing I know. It's so...liberating, exhilarating…" Was that a smile that twitched her lips? "…Like I'm not even myself. I'm greater, larger, impossibly…I don't know. I feel it, in a smaller degree, when I race in the R-cycle. But it's not the same. It's better; better than anything, even sex. When I fly---I feel so powerful, like nothing can ever touch me. I feel eternal." He had lost perception of what he said, and now shrugged, embarrassed. A small inkling of laughter startled him, and he turned to Raven. She was smiling; he had never seen her smile before. It occurred to him that he wouldn't mind seeing her smile more often.
"Anyway, the point is---I was an acrobat once. I was an acrobat still when we passed through Gotham City. Bruce Wayne was there, in the public. So was Two-Face." His voice lost its elation, but none of its intensity. "I hardly remember that day—it's all just a blur of faces and voices and sounds and feelings. I dream it often, but it's different each night. All that matters is—that day we fell. My family died, crashed, plummeted to the ground so horribly…I can hardly describe it. They're dead. I survived. I flew away, safe, and Bruce Wayne took me in. I never knew why he did.
"Maybe he was lonely. Or maybe he felt sympathy for me—his parents, too, were murdered by a criminal. Did you know that?" Raven shook her head, enthralled. "Not many people do. They where returning from the movies once, and they took a shortcut through an alley. A man held them at gunpoint, robbed them, shot both his parents, and left him alive and alone— only Alfred was left to him. That's why he became Batman---he had gotten a wide-eyed look at injustice and crime, and he couldn't bare the thought of it. So he created Batman to satiate his thirst for justice, to rid himself of the itch for revenge.
"Of course," his voice hinted at bitterness, "he never told me that. Alfred did."
"Whatever the reason, he took me in---he told me nothing of Batman, however. That, I discovered on my own. Only then did I become---did he make me" he corrected, as if by habit, "Robin, the Boy Wonder. And I could fly again." He couldn't suppress the smile that split his face.
"I'd be lying if I told you I didn't relish the opportunity to get even---I'm afraid that, at first, I wasn't in for the principles. But slowly, revenge got swept away, and I felt like fighting for---" he stopped suddenly. Raven panicked—No, don't stop now, not when I'm so close!
He turned to face her completely, and hesitated once more, before continuing, "I felt like fighting for other people. I felt like making sure no one's wings were cut like my family's were. You understand? It became a choice---I had no obligation to anyone, not even to myself; I had no extraordinary power I had to compensate for, no superhuman abilities meant to be put to good use. I was human, only, and I chose to put myself forefront. I wasn't fighting for me anymore, and it gave me a rush.
"Sometimes, I wonder whether I made the right choice. I had to give up so much---we all did. You know how it is. And what do we get in return?" He left the question hanging in the silence. "And now Batman's dead." And so we come to it.
"Bruce---he loved few things in the world. Barbara, Alfred, the Batmobile, me---and Selena Kyle. Rae, you have no idea how it was, how much he suffered for her. It broke your heart to see them together; fighting, dancing, dinning, fleeing: whatever they were doing, whoever they were being. Even before they knew who they were—Batman and Catwoman, Bruce and Selena---they seemed perfect for each other. All four of them. Sometimes, Bruce wouldn't come home all night. Babs and me, we'd worry—but we liked to think he was with her. We liked to think so for two reasons---one, because Bruce was like our father, and we wanted him to be happy, if only for awhile. And two…it gave us hope that maybe our lives wouldn't be doomed by our career of choice.
"But now I'm not so sure. I talked to Catwoman today."
"Yes, I saw you." She hardly noticed it had been her to speak.
"I…I got the distinct impression that, given the opportunity, she would've done things differently. And I know she loves being Catwoman as much as Bruce loves…loved being Batman. Maybe love is not the word…need is more like it. What I'm trying to say is…I guess I'm wondering if it's worth it. I don't want to end up like Bruce did---alone. He had me, and Alfred, and Barbara…but he never really let us in, you know? He couldn't. None of us can, really—not completely, anyway. I don't want to reach the end and notice all I turned away…." Unexpectedly, he chuckled feebly. "I'm sorry, Rae. I realize this is a lot to handle…I didn't mean to dump it on you all at once. I wasn't even planning on telling you this, but I guess I got carried away…you're an exceptionally good listener, you know?"
"I did ask, didn't I?" She smiled slightly, imperceptibly, almost shyly.
"Yeah, I guess you did." He smiled back, feeling uncharacteristically foolish---like a five year old in love with his kinder garden teacher.
"Look, Rob. The truth is I'm not sure I understand what you're saying. I mean, I understand what you're saying…I just can't relate to it. I was not given a choice, you see? My powers, the dark, everything…I was born with it. I am what I am—nothing more, nothing less. The only thing I could decide was how to put my powers to use: for good or for evil. And it wasn't much of a choice, to be honest. It's been hard to keep the choice, but still…for me, it's been worth it. Fighting criminals, working with the Titans…it's what's kept me on the right side of the line." You've kept me on the right side of the line, her eyes said, and maybe Robin read that.
"All I can tell you, Rob, is this---don't rush your choice. I imagine things are…messier up there than they usually are, because whether or not you're willing to admit it, you've been through a lot these past days. There's no need to make a decision now; you have enough time to think it through. And whatever you choose---Robin, listen to me, whatever you choose---you can always come back. I promise I--we won't turn you away." She swallowed, momentarily debating her next words. "And---and we'll….I'll let you go." The look he gave her then shook her to her very center, and it seemed her entrails were being knotted into each other. The lamp in the far corner of the room flashed and went off. Raven prayed Robin hadn't noticed.
"Thanks, Rae." His eyes were soulful, beautiful, morose. He held her hands, squeezing them affectionately. He still looked broken, though. "Superman talked to me today, too. Twice. He…he wants me to…Rather, he thinks I should take up Batman's mantle."
"Become Batman?" The thought had entered her mind, of course, often in the past few days, but she had no idea how she felt about it.
"Yes. He believes I have the necessary skills and that it would be, I quote, 'a fitting tribute and token of gratitude to the man that raised me'." They sat in silence, until Raven couldn't take it. She told the truth.
"It would be."
"Yes, it would." Pause. "In fact, I was supposed to announce it during my eulogy." That's why it felt so forced, so dry, Raven realized. "But I didn't. Superman's mad, and the rest of the League is confused and expectant. They don't want Batman to die. If Batman dies, what is left to them? What hope have they to hold?" Raven nodded fervently; he had read her mind. "It's not about continuing Batman's legacy---I could do that as Robin, couldn't I? It's about preserving their immortality, remaining unconquered…And instead, I told them the truth: they're not gods. We're not gods. Me, least of all---I'm human. How the hell would I…" A tear escaped his eye. "How could I…I mean…I can't be Batman! I don't want to be Batman! Batman's death, buried, gone…and, God, how I wish he were here now! I can't, I'm Robin, only Robin." The tears were coming fast now. "Not even that---I'm Richard, Rich, Dick…not Bruce, and certainly not Batman." His voice was breathy now, desperate, "God, never Batman."
"I'm sorry, I am…The man gave everything to me---he was my father, for Christ's sake! I owe it to him, I know I do…but it's too much, I won't, I can't, God; never Batman!" Raven had her arms around him by now; she felt so frightened by Robin's tears that the reaction had been primal, unbidden, immediate. She didn't know if she did it to comfort him or to hide his painful face from view; she hoped it was the former, because the latter didn't work—she could still feel him shaking in her arms, his tears wetting the front of her leotard, his beautiful velvet voice muffled and nearly undistinguishable against her neck, and it tore her from the inside out. She felt something wet leave her eyes, and realized that she, too, was crying---the first tears ever to leave her eyes, and they were for him. Robin. She realized they pained her, he pained her so thoroughly, so completely she couldn't hold it inside herself. The books in the far shelves cascaded to the floor, and she only held him tighter, wishing she could take his grief away and unto herself.
Raven felt desperate---he was broken now; she had broken him like she said she would. Only she didn't know what to do to put him back together, didn't know how to fix him…if only it'd been Cyborg, or Beastboy, or Starfire that cried. Then she could give them a pat and bully them into feeling right again and she wouldn't care if she'd fixed them right, just as long as the pieces fit nicely enough. But this was Robin, and he had to be perfect; she couldn't just stumble through it, pink Raven wouldn't let her---his anguish was her own, his heartbreak, his guilt, the devastating suffering that ravaged his soul…she felt it all. And she had to stop it, had to, not because it was hurting her—she didn't mind---but because it killed her to know he was feeling this way.
What she really wanted to do was take his broken, battered, worn body away and give him another----her own, even. Anything to make this stop.
Raven did just that--she gave him the only comfort she knew, the only certainty she felt. She pulled away from him, only slightly, and gently took his face in her hands, tilting it upwards to meet her own. The minute their lips made contact, she felt something burst within her---or was that within him? His mouth was like fire—hot and dangerous, provoking to the point of insanity. Suddenly, he was in control, pulling her unto his body, her skin against his own. His hands, everywhere at once, they frantically clutched at her, fighting to bring her closer still, ridding their bodies of the bothersome layers their costumes presented.
She felt like she was drowning in him; her ears where roaring with the sounds of her body, his body, their joint moans and calls, the room being completely destroyed around them. The wooden desk beneath her felt frigid in comparison to the hot sultriness that were their bodies, its surface ridiculously unyielding against the wonderful malleability of him, which seemed to fit exactly against her, filling every nook and cranny.
He not only made love to her; there was sorrow there, and regret, anger, even rage in his passion---so many emotions she knew next to nothing of. He made her gratitude and desperation and utter, overwhelming loneliness. All his guilt, his fear, his sins—he purged them through her in a single night of sweat and tears. She took it greedily, never hesitating, never doubting. It was not sex, not about sex, anyway—the night was her gift to him: redemption. Hope. A chance to let it all go and start anew.
"Rae, I'm flying." That was the last thing she heard--whispered, kissed into her ear---before she fell asleep on his chest, near daybreak.
Outside the door, Starfire was crying.
She'd come looking for the Boy Wonder, convinced that only she could help him. She'd been in the office before Raven had and had pleaded with Robin, begged him for his troubles. She had been denied politely over and over again, until she had to leave because her heart was breaking.
Why wouldn't Robin talk to her—she'd thought then--her that was his closest, most trusted friend? Why did he deny she who he obviously loved—or would love eventually? Why refuse her that loved him so?
Starfire's only comfort had lain in that Robin hadn't let anyone else in, either. She would be the one to help him, she had been sure, and then he'd see…He had to love her, there was no other way around it; only she could save him from becoming the tortured Nightwing that he already half was. Yes, she had thought to herself, I will be the one; no one else can possibly offer the comfort he yearns.
She knew that Raven's presence over the past two days meant nothing. She'd heard the demoness complain—to Cyborg, mainly—that Robin was aloof and unreachable, set on doing everything himself, hardly ever at the mansion. Starfire knew they'd made—or Cyborg had, at any rate—the wrong choice. It still seemed illogical in her mind; how could Raven—cold, unfeeling, ignorant Raven---help her Robin?
Her pairing up with Robin was logical in Starfire's mind; he was handsome and strong, she beautiful and supple. His voice was smooth and syrupy, hers was crystalline. He was human, earthy, musky---she was alien, ethereal, soft. He ran—she flew. His soul was darkened, his heart heavy and hidden---and she was just the thing to change him, to bring love and life back to his heart. She could save Robin from himself, from Nightwing.
And then she'd heard Raven come in through the other door. She'd peeked through the crack in the door, saw them exchange a few words and then sit quietly for what seemed ages. Foolish girl---you'd thought he would grace you with the confession even I was denied?
She had almost left when then something went wrong. Robin began to talk, and talk, and talk. Starfire could not hear what he'd said---only little snippets of words. But when he started crying in Raven's arms, it'd been painfully obvious she had lost. But why Raven? What did Raven offer, what could Raven give that Starfire couldn't? Raven was awful, harsh, dark---she knew nothing about feelings, she knew not what it was to feel! Even the dark girl's reach for Robin's lips seemed stiff and forced—mechanical, even.
Spellbound, she'd watched Robin take Raven in his arms, watched as he made love to her hungrily, desperately, intensely. Her ears had been buzzing with wretched cries when she'd heard the worst of them all---Richard! His name. His true name. From her lips, like hellfire, poison, death. It hurt like nothing else---more than being denied, more than the sex, more than standing here and watching her doom with her own eyes.
She'd lost. Not because Robin would talk to Raven, not because he would cry in her arms, or kiss her, or make love to her time after time. She'd lost because it wasn't Robin doing all those things---it was Richard Grayson, a stranger. It hit her physically; she slammed back into the polished wood and slid down to the floor with a painful thud. Her long, perfect legs drawn against her body, her wildfire hair soft around her, she sobbed and cried until her entire body hurt and shook in a fashion completely foreign to her senses. Her thoughts were erratic, half-formed and unaccountable; she didn't know what hurt and why. Through the haze, her brain numbly told her to get up, go to her room. She could cry if so she wished, but no here; they'll hear me. They'll come. Go.
Starfire stumbled down the hall and to her room.
Red Notes:
So…I feel I should confess: this is only half of what I'd originally planned for chapter 2. Actually, this isn't even what I'd planned for chapter 2—Robin and Raven weren't supposed to get this close this fast. But it sort of flowed out when I was writing, you know? I thought it fitted pretty well, so I let Muse get away with it. However, there's still a lot more to this chapter that I had to cut out and save for chapter 3; I felt the emotional load was already too large, and putting anything else in would diminish its impact. In other words, expect more Star angst, and a hell of a lot more Beast Boy and Cyborg in chapter 3. Of course, Robin and Raven won't be left out.
The Superhero Thing-y: I thought the superheroes would probably get together for their own memorial service in Batman's honor. The actual funeral, after all, was meant for Bruce.
Superman: I never really liked him. Period. (I do, however, love Smallville—more specifically, Tom Welling)
Concerning Raven's Character: Hopefully, she didn't seem nearly as OOC in this chapter. I know she still seems a little too…openly friendly, but trust me—it won't be so bad once she's had her chance to rant. (which, incidentally, will be the first scene of chapter 3) Besides, you have to remember that it's all in her POV; we get to see how she thinks, and that might lead us to loose sight of how she actually behaves and what she actually does. (unless, of course, you're a lot smarter than I am…which really isn't all that difficult)
Robin's Breakdown: Yes, it seems that's all he does lately. But remember: he's been an upright man throughout this whole ordeal. We just don't see it because…well, frankly, it isn't terribly interesting to write. (Imagine having to read through him doing aaaaaaaall he had to get through to prepare for Bruce's funeral and whatnot) And I don't think it's really all that OOC---remember the circumstances.
Robin's Reluctance: I thought it was pretty logical, him not wanting to become Batman. I mean, Batman's cool and everything, but he hasn't exactly lead the happiest life, has he? And who has more insight into it than Robin? Anyway, this will be further dealt with in chapters to come. Meanwhile, feel free to express your opinion: at the end, should Robin become Batman? Why or why not? (I sound like a Lit Comprehension Exam)
Starfire (in general): Yes, I do think she's THAT annoying. But I warrant her reaction at the end is genuine, or at least, likely. Here's the thing (and this is a plot secret, saved for those who actually read my notes) I think Starfire's in love with the idea of Robin and the possibility of making him happy (saving him, it you will), as opposed to actually loving HIM and therefore wanting him to be happy…does that make sense? I confuse myself, but hopefully you're smarter than me and got it. Anyway, again, this will be further dealt with in chapters to come (chapter 3, mainly) And yes, I realize having her watching them is a little sick…but she's not 'watching' watching…she's in shock. It's different.
Beast Boy and Cyborg: Yes, they have their own plotlines. Have a little patience.
Thanks for reading so far. Please review; it makes my day. As always, any and all opinions are welcomed and cherished, whether by review, email, or whatever. You already know what's coming in chapter 3, so…I guess that's it. May the Golden Dragon of Unity accompany you (yes, I just saw Mulan 2)
---Red Room Flare (aka Fée)