Blanket Disclaimer: Poison Tonic LX does not own the Teen Titans or any characters therein. Don't sue her, please, because if you do I won't have a home anymore…-Ralph, the muse
"So you guys are superheroes?" The Original asked as he picked up a piece of cheese pizza.
"Unless there's something we don't know." The Sorceress nodded.
The Original nodded wordlessly, poking his pizza as his gaze flickered around nervously.
"Dude, they aren't coming back today." The Comic Relief said, laughing. "Bad guys always take at least a day to regroup."
"You don't know them like I do." He muttered darkly.
"No, we don't. Who cares? I don't make it a habit to get to know pricks." Excluding the Kid, of course, but he thought it might not be a good idea to mention that for the time being.
The Original opened his mouth to say something, but just shook his head, poking his pizza again with a deep sigh.
"You gonna eat that or poke it 'til it disappears?" He asked, arching an eyebrow at the boy.
"No. You can have it."
He snorted. "I don't want it." He said, picking up the slice, tearing off a piece of it and shoving it into the Original's mouth before anyone could stop him, holding the boy's mouth and nose shut. "Eat it, and quit acting like a paranoid—"
"Friend Rush!" The Dolt gasped. "You should not force him to eat if he does not wish to do so!"
"He's acting like a stupid little kid who didn't get his way." He said.
"If New Friend Maxwell wishes to behave like a child, let him do so. It is not your job to make him eat." She scolded, forcing his hands away.
The Original coughed as he swallowed the pizza. "Thanks." He rasped.
"You are very welcome, New Friend Maxwell!" She chirped, beaming at him.
"Heh." The Original blushed and took a bite of his pizza as if trying to keep himself busy.
"You seemed to be doing pretty well for yourself against those other guys." The Kid commented.
The Original shrugged. "I guess I've gotten used to the way they fight. They are based off of me, after all, and I've fought them often enough."
"Based off of you? Is that why they called you 'Prime'?" The Kid asked.
The Original grimaced. "Well…basically." He said, obviously uncomfortable.
"You fight pretty well, for someone so paranoid." He said.
"Red, quit giving him a hard time." Cyborg said, chortling.
"Fine, fine. I'm just saying…"
"They've been chasing me for a while now." The Original said, going back to his seemingly habitual poking of the partially eaten slice of pizza and beginning his nervous glances again.
"Such is life." He said with a shrug. He was quite used to being chased—he couldn't see what the big deal was. "Besides, who better to keep the baddies away than a team of supers?"
The Original gave him a sharp look. "You guys shouldn't interfere anymore. This is my fight and you'll just get hurt again!"
Cyborg threw his head back and laughed loudly. "We're superheroes, Maxie. Getting hurt is second nature to us! Definitely nothing new. Besides, it's worth it to help out a friend."
The Original blinked.
"Which brings me to my next point." The Kid said, leaning forward. "How would you like to be a Titan, Maxwell?"
The Original jerked back. "What? No! Why would you think I would want to be a Titan?"
"Well, it's rather obvious you like helping people, seeing as how you're so worried about us getting hurt compliments of your little clones." He said.
"No! I can't be a Titan! I have to keep moving around or they'll catch me again and more people will get hurt!"
"First off, not all Titans stay in Jump City." The Kid said. "And second, it's like Rush said: who better to keep those guys away from you than a team of superheroes?"
"No! I'm not going to be held responsible for anymore people getting hurt!"
"We're the ones asking you to stay." He said with a roll of his eyes. This kid was seriously way too uptight. "We'll take full responsibility for our actions, if it'll make you feel better."
"No, it won't! It'll still be my fault if you get hurt, because they're after me!"
"Of course, because, being superheroes, we've never been the targets of a group of super villains before." The Sorceress drawled.
"This is different! These guys are seriously—"
"A bunch of weirdos." He nodded in agreement.
"Dude, it'll be okay. We're totally used to this sort of thing. We wouldn't ask if we didn't know what we were getting ourselves into." The Comic Relief said.
"But you don't know what you're getting yourselves into!"
"Let me guess: some nutcase kidnapped you or something because of that thing you do with your hands. Then he decided to make an army of clones using your DNA, at the same time making them stronger, faster, smarter, etc. Am I right so far?" He asked.
The Original's mouth twitched. "Yeah…"
"Okay." He smirked. He loved pissing people off. "So then you somehow managed to escape, because you don't want a lot of super-you's running around causing havoc and taking over the world and all that good stuff." His smirk widened for a second before he gave the Original a mockingly innocent look. "Don't be shy about correcting me if I'm wrong."
"You're right." The Original grumbled.
He smirked again. "Of course I am." He said, as if that should have been obvious the entire time, then continued. "So, luckily for you, whoever is in charge of whatever company is cloning you isn't ready to let you go just yet, so he's sent a couple of your super clones to 'retrieve' you, thus causing you to run all over the world so as to get away from him. Still right?"
The Original sank down into his seat. "Yes…"
"Okay, then. So where's the part where we don't know what we're getting into?"
"The part where the super clones are vicious, bloodthirsty, and have no mercy whatsoever."
He rolled his eyes. "Which part of 'causing havoc and taking over the world' did you miss? Being vicious, bloodthirsty, and having no mercy whatsoever comes with the territory. And I'm guessing they have no consciences, either?"
"Right. Which is why I can't stay here!"
He threw his hands up into the air. "Fine! Go then, you coward! Keep running until they catch you or you die, whichever comes first! And when you die, let them use the rest of your blood to make more clones. Without you around no one will have so much as a chance of figuring out how to destroy them, so let the enslaving and eminent destruction of the planet rest on your shoulders, and yours alone, since no else is going to give a flying flip about some paranoid idiot who won't accept help from anyone even if they do try to care!" He stood, slamming his hands down onto the table angrily. "Go on then, Prime! Start running, and stop wasting our time! And don't come crawling back when you figure out you really do need help!"
Even the Kid was giving him a shocked look by this point, not to mention the expressions on the faces of a few of the other frequenters of the parlor.
"I've lost my appetite." He said, agitatedly mounting his bike. "And I really hate stupid people!" He snarled at them as he started it up, and jerked his helmet over his head before taking off down the road with a sharp screech of his tires.
(THE RUSH)