Wicked. This chapter is so-called for two reasons. One is the idea of "good" and "bad" that is quite shallowly explored. The second is because of the Wizard of Oz references. Now when I first wrote this part of the fic, about a year and a half ago, I had never even heard of Wicked. The musical about Glinda and Elphaba, that is. So the Wizard of Oz references weren't intentional. They're just… there. And now, in retrospect, Wicked seems a very good title for this segment, so here we are.
In other news… It's music video season again! The wonderfully talented Flying02Fish has returned with another trailer, this time for Remember the Titans. Well, I call it a trailer – it's not really. It's more of a teaser. It is – count them – 36 seconds long, so there is NO excuse for you to not watch it. It is wonderful – she's got practically everything we've touched on so far; dead Titans, Slade taking over the world, Nightwing, crazy Batman, the Justice League, Terra, Speedy, the Clock of Eternity…
O.o It's wonderful. And Narroch did me the huge favour of putting up a link for me, so that can be found on my profile if you'd care to go check. PLEASE watch it. It's fantastic. I don't know how she does all of this editing, but wow…
Thankyou to; Dark Austral (heh, I love Roy too…); Simmie (RTT? End soon? Are you nuts? We're not even halfway through here! So don't be sad!); Kami-Elf (uh, well, there's not really the opportunity for a recap chapter between Robin and the Titans, but Marcus and Arella show up again at the start of this one. Is that, uh… good enough?); Me (the Teen Titans 2007 calendar is available from Amazon. The poster girl for November would be our lovely Starfire – lucky you; I'm December and I get freakin' Gizmo… – and I'm not answering your other question, so nyah! Maybe if you told me who you were…); Guardian of Azarath (part of the upcoming Robin/Slade fight was posted as a preview for RTT in the very last chapter of Black Magic, actually…); TheLon3Wolf8986 (yeah, Robin's a bit screwed up at the moment. Wouldn't we all be?); Quinn and His Quill (well, if it isn't Sombrero Man himself. Your theories do amuse me, BTW, although I suspect Zac has been telling you things he should have shut the hell up about… And yes, Cinderblock is a house brick…); YamiTai (nyes, evil Master of Time… what a loon… And Robin. he's a loon too…); Narroch (yes, we aren't going to talk about your review… BTW, you are aware that the audio from that vid comes from Aqua Teen Hunger Force, aren't you?); Athena's Wings (oh, that's okay. Thankyou for going all the way to an internet café just to review! I can't tell you about the gear, though…); Crazy Insomniac (back for your regular does of Robin torture? I do aim to please, my dear… Hope you like this chapter as much as the last one!); and Super Chaos (didn't I put up any pics of Robin's RTT outfit? Agh, I must do that – I have drawn some…).
Soooooooo…
Wicked
"You… will let him do this?"
"I do not have much of a choice, Angela." Marcus Vandiver did not look at her; instead opting to study her reflection in the mirror, his back to her.
"Arella." Her expression was reproachful.
"No. Angela." He corrected her now. "Angela Roth, the human. You know you are no warrior…"
"I know, but I have to… my daughter—"
"Angela." He leaned his forearm against the mirror with a heavy sigh. "I want you to return to your chamber and remove your garments. You will not be accompanying us tonight."
Arella stepped forward, her face contorted in anger. She was indeed dressed for the part – Azarathian battle armour. She looked like a warrior queen; for more extravagant now than her fellow senators. Her silver tiara slightly resembled a helmet, bird-shaped – the curved point overhanging her face in the way that her daughter's hood did. Her long fair was free, shining magnificently. Perhaps, if any of the Teen Titans themselves had been present, they would have noted her sudden similarity to Starfire – a silver collar and breastplate was matched by similar shining gauntlets on her arms and a V-shaped silver belt at her slender waist. Her attire itself was purple, again seeking to seem familiar – sleeveless, knee length, with splits to the top of the thigh up either side. A long matching cloak draped down her back.
"There is no doubt your appearance belies it," Marcus went on softly, "but you can do nothing, Angela. Nothing at all."
"I have trained. I have—"
"You have no powers. You will not last two minutes—"
"The boy has no—"
"You are not a warrior, Angela. And this… this is a war."
"And the boy?" Arella crossed the room, slamming her hands down on Marcus' desk. "Robin, who also has no powers? The one caught in the middle of all of this?"
"Robin is not like you, Angela." Marcus finally turned to her. "He has not got a choice…"
Arella straightened.
"Neither have I."
She turned on her heel with a flurry of material, starting for the door.
"Yes, you have." He slammed the doors shut from where he stood across the room, making her gasp and stop short as she reached them. "But I am making it for you…"
His own Soul Self arose and devoured him at his will, removing him from where he had been and placing him where she was.
"You're going to go back to your chamber, and you're going to take off that ridiculous armour, and you're going to stay here, do you hear me?" He hissed at her.
Arella watched him in shaking angry silence.
"Marcus," she said finally, "Azar help you, my daughter had better live to see the sun rise…"
She started out again, pushing past him; then paused.
"Where is Cordelia?"
Marcus blinked icily at her.
"I think you know where Cordelia is…" He stepped past her, adjusting one of his own gauntlets.
His robes today were black; as Jonathon's had been.
Arella gazed at his back as he drifted aimlessly back across the study.
"I hope you find what you are looking for, Marcus," she whispered finally. She left before he could turn to her, closing the door decisively.
He stared at the door in her stead; and then his gaze slid to the mirror. He gazed at it intently, as though looking through a portal into another realm, as though he could see something there that Arella could not, and…
"Oh, yes, Angela." He rested his forehead against the glass. "I think I will…"
If patience was a virtue, then Dick Grayson was not the most virtuous of people. That meant in the not-being-very-patient way; not the literal way. "Virtuous" means good – an antonym of "virtuous" being… well, bad, to put it simply.
Just because he was going to kill someone in less than fifteen minutes… it didn't make him bad.
Did it?...
Robin kicked another rock and heaved another sigh. He was restless, and he was uptight.
And he was scared.
And, much like waiting in a long queue for a super-scary roller coaster, the longer he waited, the tenser he got.
"Why are we just standing here?!" He burst out finally, his last nerve snapping.
He spun wildly to face Terra, who was sitting on the boulder she had used to transport them there, gazing up at the clear, cold winter night sky above.
There being the wreckage of Wayne Enterprises. It had been demolished years ago, for now moss and ivy crawled across the broken rubble, the twisted pieces of scratched metal. Here and there, pieces of circuits lay like snakes, half-concealed by the mud that had begun to suffocate them. Around it was a whole grey desert of other shattered buildings and cracked pavement – this part of Gotham was beyond even disrepair. Like Wayne Manor, a little of it still stood, but it was dark and dangerous, and the heavy floors sagged and creaked ominously where they struggled to be sustained by twisted, weakened support beams.
That was where they needed to go.
Terra looked at him and raised the one eyebrow he could see at him; once again she was back in the Lycra outfit he had first seen her in, with three-quarter length sleeves and legs, and leather gloves and ankle boots. Her gold hair was free, hiding the right side of her face, and she carried no weapons – being what she was, she did not need them.
Conversely, he carried all the weapons the pouches on his belt would hold; birdarangs, grappling hook, staff and the gothic silver knife. He was on an assassination mission, and something told him that he was going to need all the help he could get. He still wore all black – Lycra T-shirt, black leather pants, bomber jacket – perhaps because the one sombre colour calmed him slightly.
Or made him feel badder.
"Bad" meant in the good way.
He twisted his necklace around a leather-gloved finger as he watched her intently; the single pale blue eye he could see was searching him, hunting for some emotion behind the blank, empty mask – the same one that hid his eyes, even bluer than hers.
As though she somehow saw through it.
"We're waiting for Roy," she said eventually.
Again.
"I've told you that," she went on. "I've told you that about four times, Robin."
"Can't we just-"
"No."
"But he'd know-"
"No."
"But I don't see why-"
"No, Robin." Terra sounded irritated. "Roy said to wait for him, and that's what we're doing. He won't be long, ok? I know you're nervous, but could you just… just… go and be nervous over there?!"
He knew that she had been going to tell him to relax, but she knew that would be impossible for him to do.
"The Master of Time said the security would be tight," Robin said, trying to be patient. "Slade could have hidden cameras everywhere. The longer we stand here, the more we're opening ourselves up to be spotted."
"We're waiting for Roy, Robin." She watched him moodily kick another rock clear across the wreckage. "Look, I know what you're like, Robin. Your thought chain is spontaneous, you use your fists first, then talk later. I don't want you just running in there and getting yourself killed."
"You'd be with me," Robin pointed out.
"I can't guarantee that I alone could protect you. I'd feel more comfortable with Roy there as well."
"Yeah, but I-"
Robin was cut off by the sudden roaring of a motorcycle, and he and Terra both turned towards the direction of the noise.
"Here he is now, anyway," Terra said, standing up. "See, told you he wouldn't be long."
Sure enough, seconds later a midnight-blue-and-silver chopper had side-grounded to a halt a few feet away from them, kicking up a cloud of dust and dry mud.
"Hey, Roy!" Terra protested, waving the cloud away from her face. "I'm supposed to be the earth-mover here, remember?!"
Roy Harper wasn't wearing a helmet, and because of that Robin could see the wide grin spread across his handsome face. His appearance was dramatically different, however; he was in uniform, the same red and gold one Robin recognised from the photographs stuck to Pallais' tank. It had a high neck, unbuttoned, with gold details on the buttons down the front and the feather-like design on the chest. His gloves were brilliant yellow, as were his boots, and so was the wide belt at his waist. Slung casually over one shoulder was his "bag of tricks", containing many arrows of a wide arsenal – ranging from regular arrows to ones with exploding functions – and his bow was carefully secured to the back of his bike. He retrieved it now, holding it loosely yet confidently in one hand, much the same way Robin held his staff in the midst of battle.
And, like Robin, a black mask concealed his blue eyes.
"Sorry I'm a little late," Arsenal said, still grinning. "Bruce wasn't being very cooperative… nothing new there then…"
Robin blinked, looking from Terra to Arsenal and then back again.
"Bruce?"
Terra ran a hand through her sheet of gold hair.
"We were hoping to get Bruce to come with us, for a little bit of back-up. But…"
"He wasn't in a good mood," Arsenal finished wryly.
Robin eyes them both sceptically.
"I thought he couldn't walk without that stick?"
"He can't walk without it." Terra smiled thinly. "But he can fight very well with it as well, actually."
"Lex was there," Arsenal put in mildly. "They were playing cards quite happily, but then Bruce flipped out when I walked in. Lex managed to calm him down, so I relayed the message to him to see if he could manage to get it through to Bruce; thought it might trigger his memory. Had to leave them to it though, to get here."
"Think they'll come?"
"Lex didn't look very keen, even when I told him we were taking down Slade for good. But you never know…"
"Right."
Robin looked at them both, quite put out that they hadn't informed him about the intended-addition of Bruce into the "Taking Slade Down" equation.
The answer to that equation, inevitably, being him.
"Uh oh," Terra said with a sudden grin, looking down at Robin.
He blinked.
"What?" He asked sulkily.
Terra pinched his cheek, perhaps harder than she had intended, because he felt sure that it was going to leave a mark.
"Look at the cute widdle pouty face!" She crooned, a sarcastic yet delighted edge to her voice. "Aww, how sweet you look when you're all sulky!"
Furious, Robin pulled himself away and abruptly turned on his heel and stalked off.
"Can we just do this, please?" He called back over his shoulder, fighting to keep his voice from shaking too much with anger.
And fear.
Terra and Arsenal exchanged glances, knowing that he was far more afraid of what was to come than he would let on. Perhaps to put up a brave front.
Or perhaps to stop himself from going to pieces.
They followed him into the cold dark depths of the still-standing part of Wayne Enterprises, none of the three of them really knowing where they were going, or which direction they were supposed to be heading. However, the Master of Time had said that Slade had set up shop down in the basements of the broken skyscraper, so the logical way to go seemed to be down, and only down; it wasn't like there even was an "up" anymore…
They came to a reinforced metal door, which Terra smashed open with a boulder and Arsenal led the way through, holding a flaming arrow aloft to light the way down the staircase that stretched ahead. Their footsteps echoed on cold empty concrete for what seemed like an eternity, until finally a faint glow of light could be seen. Drawn to it, Arsenal led the other two towards it, finding that the steps ended as they stepped into a dimly lit, long, narrow corridor. They all stopped, bumping into each other in the narrow light, and looked around – the corridor they were now in stretched both way for as far as they could see, with several smaller corridors leading off it one both sides.
"Great," Arsenal muttered darkly. "Now what?"
"Where are the munchkins to show you the way when you need them?" Robin quipped dryly.
Terra scuffed her foot along the cold concrete floor.
"Don't look like no yellow brick road to me," she murmured. And then, nodding at Robin's heavy steel-soled boots; "And you're hardly wearing ruby slippers there, either."
Robin flashed her a weak grin.
"Well, yeah. Can't kick somebody's face in with ruby slippers, can I?"
"If we could focus, please," Arsenal interjected irritably. "As entertaining as your "Wizard of Oz" reminisces are, we have a job to do, remember?" He narrowed his masked eyes in Robin's direction. "Particularly you, "Dorothy", and ruby slippers or no, your shoes are gonna be pretty red by the time we're done. So let's not joke about it, huh?"
The grin slid off Robin's face like mud as he sank back into his overwhelming oblivion of fear and dread, mingled with his own determination and sense of duty.
His sense of destiny.
"Killjoy," Terra muttered to Robin as Arsenal started down the left of the corridor.
Robin did not deign to answer her, instead sailing past her and her attempts to lighten the mood. Arsenal was right – it wasn't a time to be making jokes. What they had to do – and particularly what he had to do – was serious.
Evil or not, they… he… was going to kill someone.
Murder someone.
"You know," Terra said sharply as she caught up to Arsenal and Robin, "I can't remember how many times Beast Boy said that comedy was hard, but, jeez, he was right!" She shook her head at Robin. "I'd forgotten that you didn't have much of a sense of humour."
"My sense of humour is selective," Robin replied primly.
Terra rolled her eyes, or at least the one they could see, and muttered something neither of the males could hear.
Both suspected that it had had something to do with their male-oriented hardware that she, being female, lacked.
Not that she – or any other female, for that matter – minded; entirely the opposite, in fact. And at least she had one advantage over them – she knew just where to kick them if they annoyed her.
Seeing the expression on her face – one that made him feel very nervous – Robin ducked around behind Arsenal, emerging on the other side of him so that he was between Terra and the Boy Wonder himself. Arsenal merely glanced at him, and the look said; "Oh, thanks, put me next to her,". Robin grinned guiltily at him, but did not move back. Only this morning he had slept, or at least drowsed, in Terra's grip on the cold floor of the church back room (fully-clothed, of course; it was much too cold out there to be anything but fully-clothed), and now he was too scared to walk next to her.
Mainly because she was radiating a vibe that somehow told him that she would like to kick him very hard where it hurt most; Arsenal appeared to be picking up on that same vibe and was gradually and inconspicuously edging away from her too. To make matters worse, every time they shot a nervous glance in her direction and she caught it, she would simply smile sweetly at them, a true blonde's smile, as though her skull beneath the waves of cascading gold was empty.
A Reese Witherspoon smile.
Seeing that bimbo smile – and knowing that she was far from what that smile belied – made both Robin and Arsenal even uneasier.
As though in response, Arsenal pulled out an arrow and slid it into his bow, pulling it back and holding it there with such elegance and strength that the entire movement reminded Robin somewhat of a male ballet dancer. He had never done ballet – he'd worn enough leotards in Haley's Circus to last a lifetime – but he knew how strong dancers were, and he couldn't help but think that Roy would probably be very good at it. The years of arching, first as Green Arrow's sidekick – just as he had been Batman's – and then as an independent teenaged superhero and honorary Teen Titan (known as Speedy, of course) and then, in his adult years, as Arsenal, which he was now… Roy Harper was pretty buff, no doubt about it, but there was something about his arms and shoulders, where all the real work went on, that was somehow fascinating. The muscles in his arms were firm and supple, and when he used his skill with a bow and arrow they seemed to flow like water beneath his skin, rippling like waves. His physical strength was remarkable, certainly, but there was a certain grace and elegance about him that Robin had never seen before, in Bruce or Clark or even Slade.
The only other person he had even seen such grace and strength in had been his father.
His real father.
John Grayson.
Well, aerialists had to be both strong and graceful. If they weren't, then they were in the wrong job, simple as that.
Physically, Robin knew that he too had that same grace – he was a freaking trained acrobat, after all – but at sixteen it wasn't as prominent as Roy Harper's or John Grayson's. When he fought he moved with such ease it was as though he was the very air itself, but yet it did not seem nearly so perfect as his father's before him, or as Arsenal's seemed now.
Maybe it was his shoes – good for kicking faces in as they were, they did hinder you somewhat from being at all graceful.
Looking down at them, he wasn't surprised.
"This is ridiculous!" Arsenal sighed, exasperated. He stopped and lowered his bow slightly, the arrow still pulled back, but now casually so. "That Time Master guy didn't even tell us where in this damn building we'd find Slade, and we've only got about fifteen minutes until midnight."
Robin's chest tightened at that.
"Fifteen minutes?" He squeaked. "But… we… I-"
"I can try to trace any vibrations coming through the ground," Terra interrupted him, her words directed more at Arsenal. "It might lead us to him."
Arsenal blinked.
"You can do that?"
Terra sniffed haughtily.
"Yes, actually."
Robin, despite his fate looming ominously before him, drawing closer and closer by the minute, perked up at that.
"Then what are we just wandering around for? Let's do this!"
Terra nodded and flapped her hands at them. They both obediently stepped back and watched as Terra closed her eyes and bowed her head. Her arms fell to her sides, her gloved fingers spread, and she stayed that way for about twenty full seconds or so, concentrating deeply. Despite her hatred for the telekinetic girl, dead both in this time and in Robin's present, Terra still reminded him of Raven. They both bore powers that were unbelievably strong; powers that could unleash devastation if not controlled.
And control over their powers was not an easy thing to master.
Unlike Robin's.
Even now he could still feel his body crackling with electricity, but after two full days he had grown somewhat used to it, so that he could barely feel it. And the control had come so easily to him… Too easily to him. It had taken him barely five minutes to master control over it, to use to his will. Raven and Terra, in Robin's own time at least, were still learning. Sixteen years, and they were still learning to control their powers.
He had barely used his brand-new superpower, slightly afraid of wasting it, and even more afraid of hurting someone by accident.
Killing someone.
Because he knew electricity was dangerous. He knew because it had killed him, and it had killed his friends.
And with the Teen Titans, Jump City had died too.
Those few seconds seemed like minutes, hours even, but Terra finally opened her blue eyes and smiled slightly.
"We're going the right way," she concluded. "Come on, I can lead us to him."
She started off ahead, and Arsenal and Robin exchanged a glance before following, Arsenal raising his bow again and Robin taking out his Bo staff and extending it.
Terra led them through a maze of corridors, turning left, then right, then right again, then left, then…
"How are we going to get out of here again?" Robin whispered to Arsenal. "I can't remember which way we came."
"Neither can I." Arsenal didn't seem too perplexed. "One step at a time, kid. Don't get too ahead of yourself, ok?"
Robin nodded, his brow furrowed as he turned his attention back to the cold, almost-dark corridor around him. There was nothing distinctive about it – it looked exactly the same as all the other corridors Terra had led them down.
Maybe we should have left a trail of breadcrumbs…
Eventually Terra came to a halt in front of another pair of reinforced steel doors. This one had a circuit box next to it.
"Great," Terra murmured, folding her arms.
"I'll handle this one," Arsenal cut in happily, changing the arrow in his quiver. This one seemed to be electrically charged, and Robin could see that he wasn't needed as Arsenal fired the arrow right into the heart of the circuit box. The arrowhead actually pierced the metal casing and the electrically-charged arrow shorted out the circuits.
The doors silently slid back.
To reveal the alternating field of luminous blue security lasers.
Arsenal swore loudly.
"What the hell?!" He spluttered, gesturing wildly at the laser field as the blue beams moved across the floor and up the walls in an elaborate, ever-changing criss-crossing pattern. "How is anyone supposed to get through that?!"
"They're not," Terra reminded him flatly. "That's the point."
As Arsenal mimicked Terra in a high-pitched tone that sounded nothing like her, Robin began to unzip his jacket.
Terra had done her bit in leading them here.
Roy had gotten these doors open.
Now it was time for him to play his part. Time for him to do what came most naturally to him.
Even more naturally and perfectly than martial arts.
"Jeez," Arsenal sighed, "you'd need some kind of super-ninja to get across there. Some kind of really amazing gymnast, or someone who was really, really good at acrobatics…" He demonstrated a few attempted ninja-like moves and almost lost his balance. "And as you can see, I'm not our best candidate…"
Robin shrugged off his jacket, bearing his torso in its tight black t-shirt, the Blood Diamond glittering against it. He unclasped it and held it tightly in one hand as he bent down to remove his heavy boots.
He needed all the grace he could get.
"I mean, what do we do now?!" Arsenal ranted, brandishing his bow with such force Terra had leap backwards to avoid being speared by it. "Call up the local circus? "Oh, hey, sorry to bother you, but we're trying to break into a bad guy's super-security main base but we're having a bit of trouble with the laser field and we were wondering if you possibly had an acrobat or two that weren't busy who could get across it. We'll bring them straight back, we promise – you know, after we've broken in and killed our arch-nemesis". I really don't think they'd buy it, you know."
"Someone called for a circus acrobat?"
Arsenal and Terra both turned in surprise at the sound of Robin's voice; it sounded slightly timid, but more amused.
He was standing in front of them, his arms spread out as though about to sweep into a bow, his jacket, boots, packed belt and necklace in a neat pile behind him. He was still fully clothed – Lycra t-shirt, leather pants and elbow-length leather gloves – but it was all so tight, form-fitting, that he might as well have been wearing nothing.
Exactly what he needed. No heavy, chunky boots, and no capes. He was barefoot, right on his toes so as to keep as little of his soles on the freezing concrete floor.
"Duh!" Arsenal slapped his own forehead and laughed. "Of course! Haley's-freaking-Circus, right?"
Robin nodded, stepping forwards.
Terra frowned worriedly.
"Even so, Robin, I don't think you'll be able to get through there," she said, catching his shoulder. "It's very tight, and they move very quickly-"
"Watch me," was Robin's only reply.
"Robin-"
He shrugged her off and walked right up to the first laser; the only unmoving one, in a horizontal position across the doorway. As he stood watching the other lasers, trying to deduce a pattern, working out when to move, he felt Arsenal punch him lightly on the shoulder.
"Good luck, kid."
Robin nodded vaguely, not really paying attention to him.
Then he saw his opening and sprung forwards onto his hands, arching his back over a laser beam as it came up the length of his spine and straightening up for it to miss touching his back by only a scant few centimetres. Looking around, seeing only blackness cut by startlingly-blue beams, he smiled.
A good workout.
Bruce had put him through worse things. Harder things. More painful things.
And he was still here to tell the tale.
…If only just in some cases.
He ducked as one swept through where his head had been, then cartwheeled twice in succession to avoid several more. Even the knowledge of what would happen if even one hair touched those lasers did not stop him from enjoying himself. It was not difficult for him – second nature, even. Terra could not do it, Roy could not do it, even Bruce could not do it.
But Robin – Dick Grayson – could, and that was what mattered.
He handsprung four times in a row, flipping over and over as easily as though he was merely walking. He ducked two more, bending over backwards almost in half, and then flipped up into the air again, cartwheeling mid-air and landing inches clear of the laser field. Looking around, he quickly located the circuit-box and blew it apart with a spark of electricity. The laser field faded and died and across the other side of the corridor Arsenal punched the air and whooped loudly. Robin blew off his fingers as though they were an old-fashioned pistol, grinning.
Another thing to add to To-Do List; find that Static Shock guy and hang out with him. Could probably learn a thing or two from him…
He and the Titans knew of Static Shock, of course; an African-American teen like Cyborg, with the same sense of humour as the half-robot. Only, far from being robotically-enhanced, Static had control over electro-magnetism. He tended to stick around Dakota, but Batman had whinged before that he had seen Static cruising through Gotham.
For someone as buff and spooky as Batman, he tended to whinge a lot.
"That was one sweet piece of work there, kid!" Arsenal congratulated the Boy Wonder as he and Terra approached, Terra carrying the clothing Robin had discarded to give him more flexibility.
Robin smiled faintly, shrugging modestly.
"Seriously, Robin," Terra added quietly, offering him back his stuff. "You were amazing. I've never seen you do real acrobatics before. Well, I hadn't."
"You still haven't," Robin corrected her vaguely. "That was basic stuff. As the Flying Graysons, our specialty was aerialist work. You know, trapezes and stuff." He took back his jacket and pulled it on, zipping it up halfway up his chest.
"Yeah, I... Dick told me… that was how they died," Terra said quietly, practically whispering. "Your parents… fell…"
Robin pulled on his boots without a word, then buckled his belt back around his waist.
Silence.
"They were murdered," he answered finally, his voice harder than diamonds. "Murdered, just like Bruce's. Only… the death of Bruce's parents was a fluke; they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, according to Bruce. But my parents… Their death was organised, planned out… And I was supposed to die with them…"
He took the Blood Diamond from Terra's outstretched hand and walked off ahead, clasping it back around his neck as he did so. Terra and Roy exchanged stricken glances before following him.
"Robin, I didn't mean to…" Terra trailed off. "Your parents, I mean… I didn't…"
"It's okay." Robin stopped and turned to look at them both. "You know, for the first time in my life – and probably the last, because I feel terrible for it – I'm actually… glad… that they aren't alive."
Terra and Arsenal both stared at him, speechless and wide-eyed.
"Why?" Terra asked him finally.
Robin turned on his heel and began to walk off ahead again.
"Because what I'm about to do… would break their hearts…"
He turned a corner and came to another doorway, blasting it apart as Terra and Arsenal caught up with him. He stepped in ahead of them, not wanting them to start talking to him again, apologising to him for something that wasn't their fault, and something they couldn't change.
Something nobody could change.
The past; and, indeed, this.
The destiny of the Avenger.
Murderous, bad, evil destiny.
Oh, something wicked this way comes indeed…
TT
Hey, remember last time I was talking about The Number 23? More TT-related interesting trivia!
Jim Carrey's character's (Walter Sparrow… with son, Robin Sparrow…) wife is called Agatha Sparrow. She is played by an actress called Virginia Madsen.
By odd coincidence, and particularly relevant to this chapter… Virginia Madsen also provided the voice of none other than Arella in the Teen Titans episode The Prophecy.
Weird, huh?
Yes, yes, we all know that Ron Perlman is in Hellboy, Tara Strong is in almost every cartoon ever made (Fairly Odd Parents, Teen Titans, Justice League, Kim Possible… the list is endless) and that Scott Menville randomly shows up in various games, always sporting exactly the same voice…
But I thought that was cool.
Once again, please check out the teaser trailer, found on my profile!
RobinRocks xXx