Title: Define 'Normal'
Pairing: Robin x Starfire (possible other pairing)
Rating: future M
Warning: language, content, dark, possible OOC (to people's POV)
Genre: romance, angst, drama
Summary: loved by many, Robin only hated. Hated by the world and everyone else, Kori only loved. As their lives entwine, their past not only destroy them, but beliefs on their own normality as well.
Credits: MARS by Fuyumi Soryo (I take absolutely no credit on the plot, except of the writing idea, omit the drawing) / Teen Titans
Define ' N O R M A L '
stage o2
"You missed that one kick?"
"Uh huh."
"And you slipped."
"Yep. And fell."
"Then you lost consciousness."
"'Guess so. Hey, don't forget that the cycle rolled on top of me and I had to do a hundred spins halfway 'round the burning track."
Richard Grayson sent his friend an irritatedly sarcastic glare.
"Speedy, I don't think it's appropriate to talk about what just happened that casually," he told him, "this is a serious thing we're talking about."
He watched as the red-haired raked his untamed locks with his fingers.
"My hair is a serious thing we're talking about. Ah, jeez... I'm gonna start lookin' like you."
It wasn't everyday that Speedy was seen without gel in his glossy red hair. Truth be told, he seemed a little Richard Grayson alike, except for the eyes and hair color, that is. Being cooped up in the hospital for nearly two weeks did his cool feature quite a lot.
"This is a serious thing we're talking about!" Richard repeated, "be serious for once!"
The red-haired spat.
"If it's that serious, I should've died."
Richard frowned.
"Now, you're just being sarcastic."
Speedy cocked his head to one side.
"Am I really?"
Richard covered his mouth with his right hand to suppress the upcoming scream. Speedy rolled his eyes and continued sipping his chicken soup laid on a bed tray.
He had dodged Richard's sober questions with the warmth of his supper. The poor lad had been annoying him with stupid interrogations for the last thrity minutes. He just wanted to finish his soup.
"For God's sake, Speedy, answer me straight!" Richard growled.
Speedy looked up from the steam rising on his spoon.
"You called?" he sipped innocently.
The black-haired seethed.
"If you hadn't fallen off your motorcycle and made it alive, I'd've strangled you to death right now."
"All right. But I warn ya... it's not right to kill a patient who nearly had his death bed."
"Jesus..." Richard brushed his messy black hair with his hand and held them up in defeat. "I give up. I don't care. This is useless! Just say whatever you want! At least let me do you a favor for no reason."
Speedy looked up.
"A favor, you say?"
Richard nodded.
"Just so I have a reason for visiting your sorry ass."
"Hmm... how 'bout you leave me alone and let me finish my broth? Your breathing the steam away with your useless questions."
There was never a time this idiot was serious to him. It really killed his patience. Literally.
Richard was about to stand up and pounce on him with retracted hands until Speedy raised a free hand to stop him.
"Okay, like, chill," he told him, "settle down and sit."
Richard glared at him.
"Are you going to be serious to me now?"
"Hey, since when was I ever serious to you?" Speedy smirked and added a quick "just kidding!" in reflex before Richard took a punch out of him.
With a sigh, Richard crouched to rest his elbows on his knees.
"You know, I don't think you'll be out for a short time," he told him.
Speedy leaned against his pillow.
"I know. I figured."
"This could ruin your career."
"I know."
"What are you supposed to do now?"
Speedy didn't answer. Rather, he simply handed Richard his tray for him to put on the floor.
"I don't know yet. I've been trying to think about that for the last three days and nights."
"Oh? And what about the rest of the days?"
Speedy gave him a sly smile.
"Too busy flirtin' with the sexy nurses. Gives me a great time to relax a bit, you know? And, hey... guess what, Rob?"
Richard stared at him. He watched Speedy's expression with vacant eyes. The feeling of uneasiness brushed through the walls of his stomach. Speedy's sly grin softened.
"At least... now, you'll be number one."
"But what about you? What about the whole gang?"
Speedy shrugged and closed his eyes.
"Ah, well. I'm retiring as of now for this cause," he replied, "what do you expect me to do now that this stupid incident happened?"
"It wasn't stupid!" the black haired bit back an angry yell, only to start an argument, "nobody expected that to happen like you didn't yourself. Just because you missed that last acceleration doesn't mean that—"
"I lost a leg, Robin," Speedy spat, "what else can you expect me to do? Sure I can still race with one real leg and one fake leg but if it'll cost me another accident, losing my other real leg... I can never ride motorcycles again."
Richard hesitated before asking, "what do you mean?"
"You know well what I mean and I'm not repeating it again," Speedy confirmed, "I'm retirning. Don't worry about me. All I have to worry is you now. At least I've stopped worrying about me only to worry about you now."
Richard pursed his lips.
"Besides," Speedy continued, "even if I wanted to continue racing, I can't with this body. I've lost half of what's left of my endurance for speed. You're the only one left in Jump City who can match up to mine."
Nobody could deny a serious person. Especially when it was Speedy being serious. Especially when he was being serious about racing.
Richard's gaze ran down to the clear white floor.
If he hadn't persuaded him to switch to the last round of time, he wouldn't have been this way. It wasn't the first he had persuaded Speedy to do something he thought Speedy really could.
Was he just too confident?
Speedy was his older idol, next to... nobody else. He had always been there with him when racing took a hard slap on him or when everyone was just pissing him off.
He was the only one to stop him from doing dangerous things. Because he told him that racing was one of the greatest way to forget everything.
He was right.
He did forget about everything...
Had Speedy forgotten about the dangers of his life when he began to race?
People who fall off their bikes so easily were those who had too much negative things in his mind. Speedy fell only one and half way of the course.
He was never one to think so negatively when racing. What had he been thinking about?
"I'll tell you one thing," Speedy mumbled, cutting off his self-tension, "It was both... painless and painful."
Richard looked at him.
"When you fell?"
The red-haired nodded and beamed.
"When I fell off my bke, it was like I was soaring in the air. Like I was flying. But I wasn't flying too high. And next thing I know, everything was dark."
Richard clenched his hands.
"How did it feel like?"
"How?"
Richard nodded. Speedy sent him a contented smile.
"Like I was dreaming."
"Hmm," Richard lowered his eyes. He'd felt that... more than once. Half of him liked it. Half of him didn't. Maybe it was because he didn't give a shit about anything before he met anybody. Maybe it was because he didn't care about living anymore. Maybe it was because he wanted to die. Because he was alone. Now that that feeling happened again, and to Speedy, yet... he felt it again.
Speedy wasn't there to race with and against him anymore. He was finished. He was done with racing. He was done with being intoxicated from the speed of air.
Richard Grayson was, again, alone.
"Robin."
Richard's eyes shot up as he looked at Speedy.
"Yeah?"
Speedy grabbed an extra pillow from behind him and threw it at his chest.
"Quit lookin' like that," he told him. "I can still read your eyes behind those shades, you know. I'm not dumb."
Richard didn't reply. How was he supposed to support Speedy from now on when we wasn't in the course anymore?
All he could do now is support him and hope that he could get out of the hospital soon.
"Hey, I said quit lookin' like that," Speedy told him, "I'm sick of people talkin' 'bout dyin' an' accidents."
Richard shook his head.
"No, it's not that... I was just trying to imagine what it would be like to die."
"Stop bein' so veto," Speedy frowned, "besides, you wouldn't be caught dyin' on anythin'."
"Whatever."
"Oh, and one more thing," Speedy added, "don't try to do anything reckless that'll cause you in a condition as worse as mine."
Richard shrugged.
"Ain't gonna happen," he answered quietly, "besides... nobody that stupid would cry over my death."
I'm sure of that.
"Hell, I would," Speedy responded, "But I ain't gonna cry like some wimps, I tell you, maybe just a teeny-weeny, iddy-biddy teardrop and that's it. Trust me, I will worry about you like a father and his son out on huntin'."
Richard forced a small smile.
"Sure." But how can you? You were just near your death-bed. How can you worry about me instead of yourself, you idiot?
"Oh, hey!" Speedy yelped loudly, causing Richard to face-fault. "I just realized!"
"What?"
"How'd you find this hospital? You never were good 'round this neighbourhood."
"You're welcome for the comment," Richard spat and searched around the pockets of his jacket. "I asked a person... some girl I saw out in the park nearby yesterday. I was supposed to visit you yesterday... but I didn't. So"—he took out a crumpled paper-ball—"she drew me in a map. I had it memorized yesterday with one look."
He chucked the ball at Speedy to show him his evidence.
"You may still need this, you know," he told the black-haired.
"Why?"
"Because you might forget where this hospital is again," before Richard could spit at him, Speedy studied the quick sketch. "Wow, neat doodlin'. Like a pre-schooler... heh, you sure you asked someone your age?"
"Uh, yeah. It was some weird depressed looking girl. Didn't have time to thank her 'cause she ran away from me. I think she's in my school. Some weirdo, probably. Anyone who's scared of me are from my school or anywhere near my neighbourhood." Richard shrugged.
He watched as Speedy turned to the back of the paper. The red-haired's humourous smile faded. He sent Richard a frown. The tension came back.
"If you were trying to be serious with this visit, you could have at least told me the reason why," he loured solemnly.
Richard was bitten back by his sharpness.
"What're you talking about?"
"This is just a joke right? You're just kidding, right?" Speedy asked, "we've had this talk already. I thought you're problem was almost fixed. Were you just pretending? And what the fuck is a Starfire?"
What the hell...?
He watched as Speedy crumpled the paper back into a ball and threw it at his glasses. With a suspiscious glance at his friend, Richard grabbed the ball and opened it.
"Oh, how dreadful this evening is!"
There was a strange loud clatter somewhere inside the kitchen room, as Raven flinched for the tenth time, reading a book in the living room.
"Star, could you shut up in there?" she grouched.
"I am sorry, friend Raven! This—Oh, no!—there falls friend Raven's dinner on the tainted ground!—Oh, no!—there flies friend Raven's edible cow meat!—oh no!—a fly is in friend Raven's food!"
Oh, God. Not again.
"There's no use cooking when you don't know how," the gothic chided.
"But I must exceed such a difficult task! I must cook until I am as weary and as mastered to it! Oh dear... there is another fly on friend Raven's stickered pots."
"Look! If you want me to order food again, I can do that!" Raven hollered.
"No, no, no, no, no! I must pass this mission!" Kori Anders cried and yelped as another clatter eroded from the kitchen room. "Oh dear... I do believe we will need... more implements for cooking ware... I believe I have... broken another one..."
"Listen; just leave - me - alone, would ya?... no.... no... NO!.... I said I can take care of myself! I'm seventeen for God's sake, you old man!—yeah, I can call you that whenever I want!—you can't stop me, old man! There I said it!.... NO! I already told you—NO."
With an angry yell, Richard slammed the receiver hard on its nest, causing more cracks to come out from the recent clefts that had appeared before.
"You stupid moron," he gritted and fell down on his bed. A large piece of mattress on a corner side beside the phone, which was laid on the floor.
Why does he still call me when he keeps telling me to get the hell out of his house?
"Get in, get out. Get in, get out. Get in, get out," he mumbled as he took off his shade. He took a pillow and pressed it on his face.
He supressed another scream he so wanted to yell out. Lately, that's what he'd been doing all his life.
He had just been stalked by another bad day. One short visit from his friend turned out to be a bummer. Why was Speedy so worked up anyway?
It was just a simple note behind a drawn map. What was so bad about it? Anyone could make a silly mistake.
Was that so bad?
Girls always left him notes about anything. Mostly love notes. Varieties containing a piece of paper with the words 'I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU! PLEASE MAKE ME YOURS' or a ten paged letter about everything he did that day (the thought sent shivers down his spine).
He never took them seriously.
Besides... he was just an object to them. Right?
Girls here. Girls there. Hell, even girl's twice his age wanted to be known by him. Because he was the Richard Grayson adopted by him.
He'd never been in a relationship. Never been in any real relationship.
But it didn't matter. He'd never been in true love. Never known true love. But it was okay.
So long as he had speed, it was all he needed. There was nothing else in the world that mattered but the adrenaline pumping. Nothing else that matters in his life.
Higher than any illegal drug... racing was even better.
Nothing else mattered.
Nothing else.
The phone rang again. With a sigh, Richard picked it up.
"Yeah - what?" he grumbled. "Oh... 'ey, Garf. Uh... yeah... oh... no thanks. Too busy... uhh... doing what, you say? Uh... sleeping... oh shaddup, just because I got nothing in this hellhole doesn't mean that I can do anything better but sleep. Shut up! Yeah... yeah... good luck... sure... bye."
Nothing else.
"Who'd cry over my death anyway," he mumbled to himself. "Everyone? Sure. Then they won't have their 'Richard Grayson' to make them cooler to hang around with."
I've never known true love. Nor should I care. It's not like it's that important. It doesn't have to be. Everyone doesn't have to know true love, right?
It's just a feeling. A simple emotion that lets you dream of things that might happen.
Racing was all that matter. Nothing else. Nobody else.
Speedy had just ditched him. It didn't matter anymore.
Everyone always ditched him. Because he's so tough, he don't need nobody.
"I shouldn't care about anyone." Not anymore.
He grabbed the paperball from his trouser pocket and unfolded it. It was now a complete wrinkled mess. He could barely see the map the girl had drawn to him.
But when he turned it to the other side, no wrinkles could ever smudge out what was written on there.
' I cannot stand the world.I cannot stand myself.
I am losing it.My reasoning will disappear soon.
I beg to die.
I am slowly forgetting my sanity.I wish to die.I wish to kill myself.No.I am certain I will kill 'myself'.Because Starfire is already dead.
My humanity is next. '
"Just give and take. Give and take. Get in, get out. Get in, get out," he told him self.
I shouldn't care about nobody. I shouldn't worry. Not even this girl.
Throughout the whole night, he re-read the simple paragraph... wondering if the fading crimson blot that blurred the word 'Starfire' wasn't what he believed it could be.
-
tbc.
A/N: I do not have a beta, nor am I willing to make this story any better. Please enjoy my sporadic updates (cry)