Disclaimer: I don't take things that don't belong to me. But I do borrow….like so…
[A/N] Yep. Long, long time. I lost my angst muse. So I shot a few bunnies. Totally fluffy, adorable, fictional bunnies. They ran away with my plots. Had diabolical plans. Had to be stopped, you see. You don't see? Oh well. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited or put this on their story alert. It means a lot.
Chapter Four
His cheek was cold. No, not just his cheek. His entire body was cold, pressed against the cold cement where he had fallen. The world seemed to shift sideways whenever he opened his eyes, and somewhere in his mind he recognized that he shouldn't even be able to open his eyes after a fall like that. But that voice became overpowered by another, a voice with only one thing to say, "OOooww."
He felt like he was in some new remake of Body Snatchers, a film outlawed in the Tower after the Titans had met Brother Blood. His arms detached themselves from the wet concrete and pushed his numb body off the ground. Groaning, he wobbled for a few shaky steps before he fell into the familiar rhythm of walking.
Looking up at the roof where he had fallen, he wondered how he was still alive. The drop was at least 50 feet and he wasn't even trying to break his fall. Another odd thing. Why hadn't he tried to catch something, or land correctly? A sick feeling began to brew in his stomach, and as he walked along the sides of the warehouses it crept into his bones. What was going on?
*CRACK*.
"What the-?!" His whole body jumped. He knew that sound. And the faint flash of light coming from a couple alleys down. The sick feeling spread.
He tumbled toward the alley stepping just out of the lamplight and froze.
Before him there was a large, lumpy figure surrounded by red. His body moved closer of its own volition. The lumpy thing wasn't really lumpy, more like…hairy. Green and hairy. It was a green, hairy…wildebeest? He reached out toward it. Oh…G-
*BANG*
His hand snapped back to his side. If this was…He had to hurry.
But it didn't matter. By the time he had reached the next lamppost, there was another puddle of red and blue and...grey.
"No..." Why hadn't he been there? Why were the Titans out without him?! He shook his head as he ran for the next light, hoping, praying he would get there in ti-
*BANG*
He was so close; he could see the shadowy figure and the flash before a cloaked figure fell down from the sky.
"Oh G-" He only paused for a second by the violet bulge, knowing he couldn't help her now. His ears pricked with a familiar clicking sound. A pistol cocking.
"MURDERER!!" His mask stretched to its limits as his eyes widened. He had never heard Starfire sound so full of rage. But when he saw her, she was backing away from the light, her body contorted in fear. Not for the first time that night, Robin wondered what in the hell was going on.
Though the gun pointed at Starfire did quell his curiosity for the time being. A soon as the arm holding the offensive hunk of metal came into view, he struck. His outstretched foot kicked the gun out of the strangers hand at the same time the trigger was pulled. The hand recoiled into the darkness, melting away. Robin took a defensive posture, waiting for an attack that never came. He only broke free from his stance when he heard a small moan. His head whipped around and his eyes found the source.
"No." He seemed to be saying that word a lot these days.
He hadn't been fast enough. Or strong enough. Or anything enough. He just plain wasn't enough. And his friends had paid for his weakness. Starfire was paying for his weakness. She was just laying there, at the edge of the lamplight. Her hair fanned out beneath her, providing some comfort against the cold stones. Her legs were bent at the knees and her arms were stretched out. She looked as if she were just waking from a dream and was reaching out towards him. Her body was lax, calm.
But her eyes. Her eyes. They showed the agony her body could no longer display.
Robin knelt down beside her, touching her face, trying to wipe away the salty rivulets making their way down her cheeks. He tried to comfort her, cooing that it was going to be alright, knowing otherwise. Because while he could wipe away the tears, there was nothing he could do to stem the flow of blood coming from beneath her. He couldn't find the source. The blood was just pouring from her, and before he knew it, his hands were covered in it. He could feel it soaking into his rubber, staining.
He was so lost in his own utter failure to save her that he almost missed the rasping noise she was making.
"Friend Robi-" A funny gurgle followed. "I knew…I knew you would not…" More of the gurgling sounds. For some strange reason her mouth twitched slightly upward.
Oh God. She knew I would fail. She knew I wouldn't save her in time. GOD! No! No! There was still time, right? She was still speaking. She could make it. No. She would make it.
He reached down, intent on picking her body up, but she stopped him.
"No..Robin…I cannot feel…" Her breath caught on those last words, and Robin felt like his heart had stopped. Her eyes just looked up at him. The agony entrenched forever in their emerald gaze.
He froze, waiting for her to finish, to blink. When she just lay there, he shook her. And when she made no sounds, he grabbed her up close to him, smothering his face with her crimson tresses. He just breathed her in, his mouth stretched open in a silent cry.
A cold laugh jolted his heart back into beating. It echoed in the empty warehouse district. No, not empty. Desolate.
He gently laid the Tameranian back down and rose. This time his cry broached the surface.
"Who are you?! Show yourself, MURDERER!!" He growled, his hands stiffening around his staff, despite the slippery texture of his gloves.
The slight thump of steel toed boots reached his ears, and seconds later the figure he had called stretched forth from the shadows, swathed in its dark nature.
"murderer?" The voice was cold and detached as it whispered to him. Another small chuckle fed Robin's rage. "I suppose.."
Robin threw himself at the stranger. Hitting, kicking, striking. He felt the blows connect. Each and every one, but the figure in black wasn't going down. He didn't even look like it hurt. He was going to have to do something quick, because even if the figure wasn't getting tired, he was. He could feel every muscle aching, every bruise beginning to form, and worst of all, he could feel the stabbing pain in his chest every time he glanced at Starfire's body.
He ran at the man, twisting his body and positioning the butt of his staff so it would, at the very least, break a few ribs. The man caught it. Robin's eyes widened. The man knew what he was going to do, and he caught his staff. Still in shock, he wrenched it from the figure's hands. He struck again. And again. And again. And every time, his staff was caught inches before it reached its target. Even Batman didn't catch his staff every time. Who was this person?! Who knew his every move?
Even in shock, after finding Starfire dead, his training kicked in. His brain went into overdrive and his body reacted to the physical threat, all the while his teeth had to restrain his tongue from unleashing ridiculous pun after ridiculous pun. Something told him that those remarks would not disarm or deceive this opponent. So, Robin adopted one of his mentor's tactics, silence.
His adversary chuckled at this new approach. "They do say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."
Robin remained silent, trying not to let his shock show through.
"Next, I suppose, you'll be dishing out bat-glares of your own. Typical."
His next strike met air as the man shifted into the darkness. Robin could feel him circling. He was reminded of a documentary he had watched with the Titans on lions. He searched the shadows for any signs of movement, and when that didn't work, he shut his eyes, listening to every drop of water, every rustle.
Nothing.
Not.
A.
Thing.
This was really starting to creep him out. Even Slade made some sort of sound, faint as it was. Hell, even Batman made sounds, you just had to know what to listen for. He began to think that his opponent wasn't human at all. But then, he never did understand how anyone could murder and still be human.
Murder.
The word brought a cold fury to him. His insides clenched up, and he could feel his rage take over. Starfire was dead. Beast Boy-dead. Cyborg-dead. Raven-DEAD. He would take his guilt, his pain, his grief and use it. He'd done it before, and he would do it now.
Robin's eyes shot open at the exact time the cold steel of the gun scraped the pavement. His opponent was armed. But then, so was he.
The darkness swirled around him, clouding his eyes, bringing forth things he didn't want to remember, faces he didn't want to see.
"I'm going to KILL YOU!!!" Robin shouted, breaking free from stance, and letting his emotions guide him.
"This should be good." The dark hand reached up for his mask as Robin let out a battle cry.
"RRAAAAGGGHH-" He lost his air around the same time the mask clattered on the ground.
He looked up in shock, as his face peered out across the darkness at him. This had to be a trick. Some sort of sick, twisted trick.
"What? No longer feeling suicidal?" He watched himself laugh and raise his gun. "That's too bad. 'Cause I am."
*BANG*
*BANG*
*BAN-
[A/N] Christmas Miracle? I think so. Yeah. So..again..sorry about the delay. Also, I just got off of school and got my wisdom teeth surgically removed (yay for stitches in my mouth and awkward bruises…). No, I'm not taking any hydrocodone, so there's no excuse for any weirdness or anything. (though I am starting to wonder about those antibiotics…)
And yes, if any of you noticed, I did use Barbara Gordon's encounter with the Joker as inspiration for Starfire's death scene in the dream. Yes, I realize the Joker is not in the dream, nor is Batgirl paralyzed at this point. I just like the idea of foreshadowing. So I borrowed. Anyway, thanks for sticking with me!! Hopefully you still will.
Lemme know how I'm doing. What you like/what you hate/anything helpful.
-Victory.