Hello, guys! Nope, I'm not dead yet. I'm sorry for not updating like promised before leaving. But I've returned, and I'll do my best... I hope. By the way, I've become a second year in high school, and am in the dormitory, meaning I have next to no internet access. But like I said, I'll do my best.
You can totally skip this, because it's irrelevant to the story, but New Zealand was great! I ate too much sweets, the classes ended at like three o'clock, and I ran around laughing.
Anyway, straight to the point.
Oh, and but the way, I'm thinking of removing the summary all together. Tell me what you think.
Almost forgot. I obviously do not own the Teen Titans, but I totally own Wolfe, the Commander, Thompson, Mr. T and all the others.
xxx
He watched the fluid drip down with frustration. It was too slow for his taste. The terrorist's fifteen minutes were more than up. He had killed all those people, embarrassed Wolfe, turned Robin's fury to him. Not only that, he had ruined his favorite shirt. There would be no such thing as mercy waiting for him when he got to him.
"Mr. Thompson, gather all men. We're paying Mr. T a visit." He smirked.
"But sir-"
"Go. Now."
"Yes sir." He looked around to find someone to help him, but upon finding none, he answered and left.
"Why would you refuse pain killers?"
At the sudden question, Wolfe raised an eyebrow.
"What? Why are you so curious about it all of a sudden, Beast Boy?" Cyborg had been curious about the same thing, but had decided against asking in case it was a private matter.
"Well, I mean, it's obvious that he's going to go after this Mr. T. So... if he is, wouldn't it help if he wasn't in constant, agonizing pain?" Wolfe smirked.
"I didn't know you cared about me so much. I'm touched, Mr. Beastboy." He teased, putting a hand on his chest and continued before any could interrupt. "I'll explain it in simple words so that even someone like you may understand." He continued, ignoring the self dignified 'Hey!' "Pain killers ease pain, yes. But in order to do that, they affect a part of the brain that recognizes pain. And it makes one's muscles relax. Meaning, if I were to go into battle with pain killers in my system, it would ensure my death. My body would be too relaxed and my mind too muddled to think straight. On the other hand, some pain is quite a good motivator in fighting. Well, that and I don't have time to wait for it."
Robin had to agree to that. He knew that unless it's too much to bear, one is better off without some painkillers in his system. Especially when everyday is a battle and every fight might as well take your life. Of course, he couldn't say this to his teammates. Never. He was their leader, someone who was strong enough to carry all their pain and worries. Even though he couldn't, he had to look as if he could, or the team would fall to pieces.
Thompson chose that exact moment to step in.
"They're ready, sir."
"Of course." He reached to the tube attached to the back of his hand and before the paramedic could complain, pulled it off. "Let's go."
He walked toward the exit before he turned around to face five teenagers, who had followed him. He stared at them, an eyebrow raised.
"You can't possibly leave us here while you go and save the hostages. We're not kids!"
"Um... Again, Beastboy, not the point here." Cyborg corrected him once more.
"Please, let us help the ones in danger." Starefire asked, ignoring Beastboy and Cyborg completely.
"I already told you. No."
"But-!"
"You should stay here." The Commander finally spoke, cutting Beastboy. "Did he tell you that he's being monitored? He's being monitored by many of the government officials. If he makes even one little slip, they'll fire him."
"Yeah, so the guy'll lose his job, so what?" The green boy puffed.
"Nothing. Except that the definition-"
"Commander!" Everyone jumped. Wolfe had never raised his voice before. Other than to warn them of the bullets raging the Titan's way. "That is enough." One could practically hear anger rolling off of him.
"Wolfe-" He tried to calm him down, speaking softly.
"You have done far enough, Commander. Just... assign a few men to watch the Titans in case they decide to run off on their own." His voice was strained as if he was trying his hardest to control his anger and refrain from killing everyone in sight.
"And you," He turned to the Titans. "I know how much you want to help. But please listen for once. I know you are capable. The world knows that. You needn't prove yourself." He sighed. They were never going to listen to that. "That and I need every men with me. And I have no idea what the terrorists will try to do out here while we're gone. It's important to save the hostages, but it's even more so to keep the civilians safe."
"Yeah, as if we're going to fall for that." Beast boy said, his head raised high.
"Look. For once, just for once, trust someone else to be capable enough to do a job. And trust me when I say that you'll only get in the way." He left before they could recover from his blow.
As he stepped out of the tent, he saw a few men standing in line. There weren't much men left, but it was no matter. Truth be told, he and Thompson would be more than enough to take them down. He had seen him in hand to hand combat and he was impressed. And that doesn't happen much.
"Mr. Thompson!" The young man sprang to his side. "You're coming with me. Tell the others to follow close behind. Except for those assigned by the Commander to assist the Titans. And they can forget what I said earlier about captors. Tell them to shoot away."
"Yes, sir!" Hearing the answer, he turned to check if he was ready for battle, but turned his head at the young agent as he spoke again. "But... what about me, sir?"
He turned fully to him. "You're going to stick close to me. As you can see, I'm not in the best condition. I'm going to need someone to watch my back."
"I... I'll be the one to do that, sir?" He gulped, nervous.
"Yes. I've seen you fight. You will be enough."
"Yes, sir!" He beamed hearing the best praise he could ever get.
He picked up a kevlar vest lying on the ground as he saw the young man run off. He wasn't so bad. He may even make it to his department in the future. His face scrunched up in that. He shook his head and looked down at the vest. But then he smirked. Since when did he need extra protection? He had never needed any and he wasn't going to any time soon.
He dropped it and straightened up, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He inhaled the thick smoke and sighed it out back again. The strong, nose-pricking smell seemed to drive out another scent, one that he had lived with for far too long.
He wondered if he was doing the right thing. Showing up in front of Robin, telling him his true name. Just seeing him at all. He cursed the Commander for doing this. He probably thought he was doing him a huge favor. He wasn't. He was scared out of his mind. Never in his life, had he been allowed this kind of emotion. Now that there were no restraints, he was so scared just to feel something.
He was brought back to reality as the cigarette stub fell on his hand, bringing a searing pain he didn't know had existed. He looked down at his hand, astonished. He was trained to never feel anything. Love, remorse, guilt, pain, all except hatred, anger and loathing. Actually, he had been encouraged to feel those.
But now, he could feel the cold wind finding way into his bones, feel the throbbing of his wound, the sudden pang of guilt that he had brought this tragedy upon the innocents. It was absurd. A few years, no, even a few hours ago, he would have laughed at the notion of him ever feeling this way.
It was stupid, he knew, oh, he knew so well, but all he wanted to do was to curl up and cry. Cry, until the world ended, until someone came and rescued him from this pit less hell, from this world of agony.