Disclaimer: see chapter one
A/N: Although I'm glad to know that I have four people who appreciate this story, it would be nice if there were at least a couple more. My fellow authors, would you mind telling others of my story? I, in turn, will try to tell them of yours, if you like. Also, there are events in this chapter that conflict with the canon timeline of the show. However, since some of the characters in this universe (Now officially the "Allies and Enemies" Universe) were created and used long before season five came out, I have taken creative license, and decided that the fifth season never happened here.
Dear Brian and Alex,
I wanted to say goodbye in person, but I was afraid that if I did, you would convince me against my better judgment to stay. However, I feel this is truly for the best. I wish I could stay, but I had a—well, I guess feeling that I needed to move on, and that worse might, no, I take that back, would happen if I were to stay. Call it intuition, I suppose, or a higher power trying to get my attention and move me on to where I'm needed. But for whatever reason, I felt an irresistible pull that insisted I leave.
Brian, I left a gift for you under the tree. From what I know of you, I'm positive you'll love it. Perhaps you're wondering what this gift is? Well, you won't find out until Christmas, if I know your mother. As for how I got it, I stopped a robber while I was at the mall, looking for the right thing to get you, and the manager of the store I was in at the time told me I could have anything I wanted that I could see. My eye fell on this immediately. Enjoy it, and think of me whenever you play with it.
Alex, the gift I left you isn't in a box, or bag, or a package of any kind. You seemed to me to be the kind of woman that doesn't like to depend on others, even for protection, however grateful you may have been that one time. I made arrangements with a local martial artist and weapons expert; her address is on the attached sticky note. You have free lessons for the next eight months. I'm not telling you how I convinced her—it's too embarrassing to even think about for long. My cheeks are red as it is, and you're not even here to see me!
Anyway, I sure will miss you guys! If you want to write me, I'll be in Jump City. Yes Brian, Jump City, as in the home of the Titans. I'll send you the specific contact information once I arrive.
A fond farewell, Elm.
By the light of a small lamp, the writer of the letter scribbled an address, presumably the one belonging to the martial artist, then set the pen down on the dining room table, switched off the light, and got up. He walked out the front door, staff in hand. He only looked back once, then pulled the hood over his head and disappeared into the night.
A group of teens sat around the table. Just one look, however, would tell you that they weren't your normal bunch of friends. The one girl in the bunch had long, long pink hair; the braids in it pointed up and back from her head. Her eyes were the exact same shade as her hair, and her skin was very pale.
One of the boys was extremely large, and hairy all over, which happened to be the exact opposite of the boy sitting next to him, who was a midget so small he could be mistaken for a bald five-year-old, if one didn't see the perpetual smirk on his face, or hear his loud-mouthed insults. He wore a large, metal pack on his back.
Another of the companions was totally silent, just sitting there in his black cape with the hood up (making him look rather like a bat), between two guys in red body suits who could have been identical twins and kept calling each other "Billy," and the last one's head was covered by a green helmet that extended into a single lens over both eyes..
But it wasn't just their appearance that spoke of how not normal they were.
Though the little diner was bustling, full of diners and waiters, there was no one within ten feet of their table. Everyone was giving them a wide berth, as if there were some invisible line they dared not cross.
That, with the mingled looks of fear and anger, led to the obvious conclusion that they were more than they appeared to be.
The newcomer that walked in the door took all this in at a glance, then shook off the snow that had built up on his grey cloak and gripped the staff he held in one hand just a little more tightly. Otherwise, he gave no sign that he'd noticed the tense atmosphere, and moved to walk past the table where the group sat, ignoring the ten-foot radius that no one else was crossing.
Immediately, all conversation in the diner ceased, including the one the group of teens was having, and several more teens in red body suits appeared out of nowhere, blocking his path. "Where do you think you're going?" one of them demanded loudly in a southern drawl, crossing his arms over his chest. The stranger didn't answer, only trying to step around them, but even more of them appeared, this time completely surrounding him. The one who'd spoken up originally reached out and lightly shoved him. "What are you, deaf? Answer me!" The other teens just watched, waiting to see how this played out.
This got a response from the stranger. Though he spoke softly, every word was clear and enunciated. "I'm just trying to get past you."
The red-suited teen sneered. "Why didn't you just go around like everyone else?"
The stranger stared down at him, countering with, "Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"
The teen opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, gaping like a fish. "Don't you know who we are?" he finally managed to say. "We're the HIVE Five."
The stranger looked around slowly, as if counting. In fact that's exactly what he was doing, because the next words he spoke were, "I count a bit more than five of you."
"So, you're a wise guy, huh?" The look-alikes all narrowed their eyes and took on threatening stances. The rest of the diners backed off even further, to the walls, exiting the building entirely if they could.
The stranger shook his head, then spoke even more softly. "You don't want to fight me."
"No, I really think I do," was the response, and the teen lunged, only to be felled by a lightning quick strike of the staff.
His copies stared for only a moment, then charged en masse.
Jinx stared in amazement as this single stranger single-handedly defeated her teammate Billy Numerous, knocking out one copy with a knock on the head, then flowing smoothly into a blow that incapacitated another. Soon, he was surrounded by a small pile of unconscious bodies, but once the last one dropped to the floor, it disappeared, along with all but one of the others—the original Billy.
Jinx shook her head and sighed, putting up a hand to stop Mammoth, pint-sized Gizmo, goggle-eyed See-More, and silent Kyd Wykkyd from leaping to the attack. After all, Billy had picked that fight himself; so really, he'd only gotten what was coming to him.
Cautiously, she approached the stranger, halting when he held his staff up in a defensive position. She held up her hands to show she had no weapons, and adopted a non-aggressive posture. "I don't want to fight," she said. He relaxed a notch, but he was still as tightly wound as a rubber band. Any little thing might set him off.
Jinx spoke softly, in a soothing voice, and smiled reassuringly. "I'm sorry he attacked you. He can be like that sometimes. But as I said, I don't want to fight. In fact, I'd like to be your friend." Slowly, with each word, the stranger loosened, unwound, and slackened the death grip on his staff.
"You …don't?" She shook her head. A sigh of relief issued from behind the hood, and slowly, hesitantly, he reached up a hand to lower it, revealing the shy expression on the face of Elm.
As when he met Alex, his stomach growled before he could say anything else, bringing a red tinge to his cheeks. Jinx beckoned him, inviting him to sit with the group, including a recovered (but highly subdued) Billy Numerous.
As Elm dug in to the food, wolfing down one pizza slice after another, and Kyd Wykkyd watched impassively, the rest of the group moved slightly off to have a private conversation.
"What are you playing at, letting that pit-sniffer eat at our table?" Gizmo objected once they were out of earshot. "Especially after he took out a teammate like that?"
"Yeah. He beat up on me, and you invite him over?" one Billy piped up. "You said it, Billy," replied another. "Thanks, Billy."
"Cut that out. Now, first of all, you attacked him without permission, Billy. Can you really blame him for defending himself?" The Billys all looked at each other, one of them scratching his head, but they couldn't come up with an answer. "And another thing. Someone who can take one of us out single-handedly could really be a useful addition to the team. Don't you agree?" Gizmo folded his arms across his chest and said 'Humph.' The Billys all merged back into one from shock, Mammoth put his chin in his hand, and See-More tapped his lens thoughtfully, then shrugged. "You're the leader," he said. "It's up to you." One by one, the others agreed, albeit a little reluctantly in Billy's and Gizmo's case.
They filed back to the table just as Elm downed his third pizza. He looked up as he heard their approaching footsteps, tensing slightly in anticipation of a possible attack, but relaxed when Jinx smiled again. "How would you like to join the HIVE?"
Reflex. That's what everyone said, every single person who helped me learn to use my weapon. I needed to learn the right movements, not with my head, but with my muscles and instincts. Of course, that was easier said than done. At first, I was slow and clumsy, half the time hitting myself instead of my opponent, and despite lots of practice, I didn't seem to be making any progress. I despaired of ever learning to be a fighter.
Then one day—"Oomph!" Without conscious thought, I'd feinted a downward strike, and my teacher moved to block it, only to get caught by my sweeping kick that took her legs out from underneath her.
I froze, staring at her with my jaw dropped, she staring at me with a smile on her face. That moment seemed to last an eternity, or at least a few years. She blinked, and I snapped out of it. I reached out a hand to help her up, and she gratefully took it.
As she stood upright, she clapped me on the back in congratulations. "Looks like there's nothing more you can learn from me. Just keep practicing. That's all you need to do."
My shock came back full force, and she laughed at my stunned expression. Another eternity passed before I snapped out of it—again.
"Are you sure?"
"Yep. Positive."
I cocked my head, thinking. Even if I didn't need any further training, I knew someone who did. Alex. She could undoubtedly make use of such training, and would most certainly enjoy the challenge it presented.
After running that thought around my head for a few seconds, I asked, "Would you do me a favor, Ma'am?"
"That depends." The crafty gleam she had in her eye caused me to shift my feet.
"Depends on what?" The gleam intensified. No doubt about it, she was after something.
"On what the favor is, and what you're willing to do for it."
The rest of the entry has been scribbled out, making it completely illegible.