23. Bad Publicity part 1
I blurred over rooftops.
The night air kicked at my long hair and bandanna.
I gritted my teeth as I ran up the side of a skyscraper, dashed around it, and leapt off and onto a lower building beneath.
In such a frantic fashion, I zoomed on murked feet through the heart of the City.
"Noir! Get your fuming butt over here!" Cyborg's voice echoed from my communicator. "These guys aren't playing around!"
"Cyborg," Raven's voice interrupted. "Watch your Six!"
"Ah!!"
There was a sound of gunfire from Cyborg's end.
I gasped and pushed myself to the limit. Landing on the street. Blurring around traffic. Jumping and leaping from street lamp to street lamp. Streaking a black bullet towards my destination.
In due time, I came upon the construction site. I leapt over the high fence, perched on the flimsy aluminum structure, and scanned the area from under my shades.
In the moonlight, I caught a limousine and two cars in a clearing besides unfinished skyscrapers. Two briefcases were spilled open on the dirt. One was a mother load of green bills. The other was a collection of suspiciously white packages.
I frowned.
The sound of gunfire startled me.
I looked to the left and saw Cyborg squatting behind a metal crate. He was drawing fire from two thugs with uzzis on the other side of the construction site.
He needed help.
I studied the scene. The aluminum fence stretched past Cyborg and the crate and went past a metal scaffold of construction. On the top of a scaffold was a pylon stretching outward. Just below the pylon was a bundle of lumber tied to a cord.
There we go…
I smirked, dropped down from the fence, and landed in a kneeling position.
I cracked my neck.
WOOOOOSH!!
No sooner, I had leapt to my feet and was running alongside the fence. Before it made its curve towards Cyborg, I used my blurring momentum to carry me on the very wall of aluminum. I zoomed sideways along the wall, passed Cyborg, approached the scaffold, jumped onto the metal structure, zoomed over the edge of the pylon, jumped down, unsheathed Myrkblade, and slashed the cord holding the bundle of lumber in check.
SNAP!!!
RUMMMMBLE!!
The planks of wood groaned against each other and spilled out over the two gunmen.
The thugs gasped and tried to run away, but were pinned down by the wooden debris and put out of action. One crook who was stuck under the pile struggled to reach his gun. I walked by and casually kicked the gun away. He gasped and tried to avoid my glare as I quickly dashed away from the restrained thugs and checked on Cyborg.
"I'm all-right," the android groaned. "Those guys were real itchy trigger fingers. It's amazing that I didn't get hit once!" He looked at me with firm eyes. "In case you haven't guessed, there was some illegal interchange of drugs going on here. Not the usual back alley crap. The big stuff. Raven and I intercepted at the nick of time, but we had no idea these creeps were armed to the teeth like they are! Thanks for coming on your Tower Watch, Noir."
I shrugged and smirked slightly. I motioned to the incapacitated thugs.
"I know," Cyborg nodded, standing up straight. "Good job…but there're more of them here somewhere. Damn…what a perfect time for Robin to take Beast Boy and Starfire away on a mission!"
I looked around and made a bird symbol with my hands.
"Raven?? Wasn't she with you?"
BANG!
A gun sounded off from behind us.
Cyborg loaded his laser rifle and I held up Myrkblade. We both poised ourselves and faced the center of the construction site where a richly dressed man and his two machine-gun armed men smirked at us.
"Wel well well…look who decided to show," the rich man said. He was a stout fellow in a business suit. His hair was long and jet black. Reminiscent of the Hollywood cliché of drug cartels. "Please…put those weapons away. With as frequently as you use them, someone's liable to get hurt."
"The feeling's mutual," Cyborg frowned, waving his laser rifle at their machine guns. "Isn't that overdoing it?! I'm sure you've all heard of Ten, Twenty, To Life!"
"Since when was Life ever a factor in your 'heroic' calculations?" the rich fellow smirked. "You have no solid proof of our wrong doing. And yet you Titans are determined to beat our skulls in for every waking breath that my friends and I have."
"Cut the talk!" Cyborg growled. "You think we don't *see* your drug exchange in the briefcases over there?!"
"Are you so sure of what you see, Mr. Cyborg?"
"I said cut it!!" my team member shook. I reached a hand to his shoulder to steady him. It seemed my place.
"Temper Temper, Blue," the villain folded his arms. "You have got to learn to control your emotions."
A voice droned from the background: "Stop stealing my advice."
The three looked up just in time to see a telekinetically charged metal pylon soaring down at them.
WHAM!!!
The object slammed into the ground by their feet and exploded in obsidian energy.
The three were thrown off at three different angles.
Raven levitated down to the ground. Her eyes stopped glowing bright gray. "I hate boring conversations."
"Cute," the lead villain winced, clutching his side. "Is this the pain you want of us?"
"Shut up!" Cyborg then gestured at all of us. "Teen Titans! Go!"
All three of us charged the thugs as soon as they got up.
One gunman raised his weapon.
Cyborg zapped it out of his grasp.
I leapt in and swiped the crook's legs from under him with Myrkstaff.
Cyborg jumped and landed with a fist to the man's chest, knocking his breath out.
The other thug started firing.
Gunshots filled the air.
Cyborg and I ducked to escape the bullets we knew were streaming at us.
Raven flew in and shieleded us with a dark field.
"Thanks a bunch," Cyborg grunted, poised himself, and leapt over the shield at the gunman. The two started struggling over control of the machine gun.
"Noir!!" Raven pointed behind me, dissolving her shield. "The leader's getting away!"
I swung my head around and caught sight of the dark haired talker making a run for it.
I gripped Myrkblade, got to my feet, and blurred after him.
One and a half seconds later, I stood in his path.
He didn't seem shocked. In fact, he grinned at me.
He grinned at me??
There was no time to think. I hit him in the stomach with the butt of my sword's hilt.
He doubled over in pain.
I then did the finishing blow, spinning about and contacting the broad side of Myrkstaff with his backside.
He tumbled forward to the ground and was out like a light.
The gunshots stopped.
Cyborg had won his wresting match.
A job well done.
I took a deep breath and sheathed Myrkblade.
"Wait a second," Raven suddenly uttered. "Cyborg…how could you have survived?"
"Excuse me?! Raven, this is no time for—"
"Seriously. I saw that man shoot you five times! Something isn't right here."
I turned around and looked as Cyborg picked up the weapon, aimed it at the ground of the construction site, and fired once.
BANG!!
Nothing happened, save for the sound of the blast. The dirt beneath was untouched.
"Blanks….," Cyborg mumbled. He looked at the two struggling under the lumber pile. "All of them?"
"Yes…," a voice beside me mumbled. "All of them."
I looked over in shock as the leader stood up, winced, and removed his black wig to reveal a partially bald, brown head of hair. "Hit it, Ray!"
CHUKUNG!!
One spotlight…two spotlights…three….
Hidden set teams with lights started illuminating the construction site from atop the metal pylons and buildings across the street. The ground lit up like a stage and a nearby aluminum wall fell down, revealing a huge throng of people. An audience.
And there were t.v. cameras. The evil villain—now a sauve spokesman—was walking up to the lights with a microphone that he produced from his jacket and started saying:
"Behold! And see for yourselves, dear citizens! The rough and unmerciful vigilantism of your so called 'beloved' Teen Titans!"
Cyborg sweatdropped.
Raven frowned.
We were numbly aware of stage hands wandering onto the site and helping the four thugs onto their feet and out from under the lumber pile.
"They have no regard for justice! No impulse to negotiate! Their sole intent is a meatheaded excuse to pummel suspects senselessly and without logic!
The audience behind the cameras muttered and gasped amongst themselves as the man's footage was broadcasted live. The side of a news van a few yards away read 'JCN Broadcasting'.
"If you have read my articles in the paper and my well-researched publications, you would have been sufficiently warned of these tolerated criminals and their despot dreams!" He spun around and gestured at the three of us. "But this is the only way to capture it in true color! This is the only way to show the Titans in the flesh! In all of their disgusting light! Through drama! The real thing! And I, Blake Glover, have brought to you the truest portrayal of the villains you illogically entrust your security to while you sleep at night!!"
Cyborg had stepped over to the briefcases. He picked up the drugs and scanned a bag of it with his arm sensor. "Why this….th-this is only baby powder! What the—"
"Of course, the only way to make them crawl out from the urban woodwork was to stage a scene that would gather their attention!" Mr. Glover cackled at the cameras with his mike. "And fancy how they love to flock to scenes of the most grotesque and banal nature!"
"Hey! Yo!" Cyborg dropped the 'drugs' and placed his hands on his hips. "Your men were firing those stupid toy guns of yours at us as soon as we came to the scene! We thought we were in danger for our lives! And we also had reason to believe innocent people could be hurt if we let those gun-toting actors be! How can you blame us for taking action?!"
"And taking action involves dropping a load of heavy lumber on my companions, I do suppose! Or knocking the breath out of our lungs! Or slamming our backsides so hard, something's liable to break! Oh no, ladies and gentleman," Glover faced the crowd beyond the cameras. "These are not wielders of justice. These are monsters! Freaks of modern enforcement! And I swear to you…none of them is any more vicious than this one HERE!" He spun around…..and pointed at me.
Honestly….I nearly fell down.
I blinked at him from behind my shades.
"Yes! The newcomer! A demon with that sword of his! What will keep him from slicing a suspect's head off on any given day when he just so happens to be in a bad mood?!"
I opened my mouth and lifted a finger--
But he went on: "Does it not strike you as odd that this darkest and evilest of Titans is still a mystery to us?! That he hides from us his true self, as if it could protect him with an imaginary shroud of anonymity?! Go on, Titan! Tells us your name!"
He thrust the mike hard into my face.
I stepped back and looked at him.
He stared at me…grinning through sweat.
I clenched my fists when….suddenly Raven stood between me and the journalist.
She glared daggers at him. "Leave him alone."
"Or what? Care to display to the viewing audience again your violent control of foreign objects?!"
The crowd muttered.
Raven glared.
Cyborg stepped up to the plate. "Hey…do you not know when to stop pushing it—?!"
"No," Raven said, a hand up. "We're going back to the Tower."
Cyborg blinked. "But—"
"This is useless. We're heading back. Now." And she literally tugged on my shoulder and forced me to walk from the scene with her.
The crowd mumbled in curiosity and shock.
Glover grinned. "That's right, you Titans! Run away when the truth shows its ugly head in your face! Run away when you know the time is coming for you to stop this maniacal charade and leave enforcement to the police!"
Cyborg glared at the journalist….at the crowd…at the whole site. He shook his fists at his sides, sighed, and swiveled around to join us in the peaceful retreat.
"Don't be fooled! Your day is indeed coming!" the man swiveled about and faced the crowd once more. "And I, Blake Glover, will see to it!"
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Last night at approximately ten thirty pm, local journalist Blake Glover staged a televised mockery of the Teen Titans during one of their nightly trips through the heart of the City's criminal districts. Reports show that he and a few colleagues performed a fake delivery of illegal substances to attract the attention of the Titans, upon which they engaged the vigilantes with fake weaponry and provoked a confrontation. When asked for his reasoning behind the act, this is what Mr. Glover had to say:"
"The Titans are the real menace to our society! Not criminals! The most hardened and deranged nightmares that threaten our lives each day owe their psychotic existence to the Titans and their brash way of dealing with the dredges of the criminal threat. What our city has been witnessing over the past two years is a piece of the world wide hysteria and proliferation of masked heroism and martial law that has so undermined the principals of justice our forefathers died to maintain! There can be no stable civilization if random, power-endowed freaks among us are granted the ability to prance around as they see fit in ridiculous costumes and punch random suspects' faces in! I am determined—with every fiber of my being—to put an end to this deadly charade of theirs and return justice of the City back into the hands of the police and federal law enforcement! The Titans will fall!"
"Earlier that night, Blake Glover singled out the newest of the Titans—whom witnesses are claiming goes by the costumed name of 'Noir' as stated by teammates upon the scene—and this was said during the controversial broadcast:"
"And I swear to you…none of them is any more vicious than this one HERE! Yes! The newcomer! A demon with that sword of his! What will keep him from slicing a suspect's head off on any given day when he just so happens to be in a bad mood?! Does it not strike you as odd that this darkest and evilest of Titans is still a mystery to us?! That he hides from us his true self, as if it could protect him with an imaginary shroud of anonymity?!"
"In light of Glover's accusations, JCN Broadcasting caught up with the police commissioner and asked for any statements regarding the newest member of the Titans, possibly named 'Noir'. Though he had very little to comment, the commissioner had this to say:"
"Let Mr. Glover say what he wishes. But as long as I've been in the service, I've not had a single reason to doubt the trustworthiness and service of the Teen Titans. Any new member to their flock is welcome in my eyes. And until this quiet rookie does something to obstruct justice or overstep his boundaries, I have no problem with him."
"Who is this Noir? Is he a sign of a dark edge to the Teen Titans never before seen? Blake Glover swears that he is destined to reveal a weakness in the vigilante system of the local scene. It remains to be known if his efforts are fruitful, or if the City has reason to doubt the very heroes that has made it famous. Until then, this is Marilyn Chen. Good night."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Thank you for coming on the show, Mr. Glover."
"Thanks for having me."
"So…all this hubbub over the Teen Titans. It isn't another publicity stunt, is it?"
"No sirree. As always, Gary, I'm on a mission."
"Oh are you now?"
"Yes. And both you and your audience know that—when I'm on a mission—I don't stop for anything save for the successful revelation of truth."
"I remember you and that case concerning the retired greyhounds."
"Pfft…that was charity work compared to this."
"And the City Disposal System?"
"Elementary."
"You do say…"
"I do say, Gary."
"Might I add, you're quite the proud man, Mr. Glover."
"Not much to be proud of yet. As long as I've been a journalist, the vigilantes of this nation have troubled me. The case of Gotham City is the most archaic of all. We all know what a proverbial rape of the justice system Commissioner Gordon has allowed to run amok in that hellish, urban sprawl. Here in our town, things are much more innocent. But it is in the youth of a community that the nightmare begins to bloom. A nightmare carried on the shoulders of creatures of the night who congregate on rooftops and hunt our very neighbors down like prey."
"But what of armed criminals? Terrorists? Madmen? Their numbers are on the rise and our police system can only handle so much. Surely you can't deny the impact the Titans have had on our security…being that we're so far from Metropolis and other major hubs of heroic defense!"
"'Heroism' is a word, Gary. Surely neither you nor the audience here can deny that the Titans have dragged our City out of some rough scrapes. But it's all out of the frying pan and into the fire. I'm aimed on proving that the very existence of supervillains is dependent on the agitation and continued aggression of vigilantes worldwide. And now with the latest newcomer, the Titans have dug us all an even bigger hole."
"That's the second time as of late you've mentioned the latest member of the Titans. What's his name…..'Night'? 'Noose'?"
"Noir, I do believe. He brings a sword to the team….a team that already comprises of laser blasts, claws, bolts of alien flame, explosives, and destructive telekinesis. This rookie is not the sort to negotiate. In fact, I don't think he can talk at all. His sole purpose is to cut a path for his team members to dive in and finish the gruesome job. He is an assassin. A ghost. The truest form of the nightmarish manifestation of the Titans that we have yet to see unfold if we so much as let them play out their childish games of cowboy and outlaw throughout this respectable city of ours!"
"Quite heated words to discuss. But before we delve deeper into your theories, Mr. Glover, we must take a break for our sponsors."
"By all means."
"When we'll be back, Blake Glover will talk about the upcoming Law Enforcement Convention and the speech he intends to make in front of a wide audience of officials from throughout this region…"
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Cyborg switched the T.V. off, sighed, and typed madly away at a keyboard.
Raven stood directly behind him. She looked at the now-blank screen at the end of the Tower's Main Room…and then glanced at Cyborg. "Pardon the expletive…. but….. what the hell?"
"Rather, *who* the hell," Cyborg mumbled in reply. He jammed down on the space bar. The balding journalist's face popped up. "Blake Glover. Journalist for fourteen years on the JCN Broadcasting staff. A hard-hitter known for his blatant criticisms of just about everything that moves in the postindustrial world. He's been a conservatist, a liberal, a religious man, a liberal again, and back to conservatist to restart the cycle."
"What's he at now?" Raven asked.
"The heck if I know! Annoying!" Cyborg leaned his chin on two titanium hands and sighed with a slump. "Of all the tails to yank on in this crummy world, he had to pull on ours." A pause. "I wonder if he's had many girlfriends in his life."
"What's that got to do with anything?" Raven glared.
"I was making….a joke."
"It still doesn't change the fact that we're getting bad publicity," Raven muttered.
"Well….you and I can be thankful. He's choosing someone else to castrate the hardest," Cyborg remarked.
A beat.
They both turned around and looked at me.
I squatted on a tabletop, absentmindedly playing solitaire with a fan of poker cards placed down in front of me. Upon feeling their gaze, a part of me woke up to reality slightly and forced me to sigh.
"Why him?" Raven asked, looking at Cyborg. "Just because he's new?"
"Easy to gang up on the newby," the android replied. "In general, that goes for all of us. I'd love to see him flock over to Metropolis and try bashing Superman and the rest of the JLA in front of news cameras. But obviously he's too cowardly. God…people make me so sick sometimes."
"You have to admit, he did get us good."
Cyborg looked up strangely at her. "What are you meaning to say?!"
"I can see now how we could have been more cautious with busting that 'delivery' at the construction site," Raven remarked. "Perhaps we have gotten so used to facing blatant criminals that we've stopped pausing to cautiously weigh the evidence."
"Perhaps…," Cyborg sighed and swiveled around to lean forward on his knees. "But that doesn't excuse how wrong he was for what he did. If it was the police and not us who got fooled into reacting to their blank guns, he'd probably be having less to smile about right now."
"He's got nothing to smile about yet," Raven said. "Let's just keep doing our jobs…regardless of whatever intimidation he might press upon us."
"Heh…," Cyborg smirked ever so slightly. "That's easy for you, Raven. Some of us are too emotional. We let it get to our heads."
She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Then I'll help you." She looked over. "Both of you." A pause. She blinked at me. "Where are you going?"
I packed the cards away into a deck, slid them into my pocket, and gestured on word without looking.
"'Out'," Cyborg read aloud.
"You sure that is wise, Noir?" Raven said.
I looked at her…wounded.
She said nothing.
I walked depressingly off towards the elevators, and left the scene.
Once I was gone, Cyborg looked down to the ground and sighed. "He's letting this all get to him."
"He can handle it."
"And just how do you know that?"
Raven looked off through the night-shadowed windows of the Tower.
"I don't."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
I wandered into town under the familiar shroud of night.
I rested my hands in my jacket pockets.
I kicked at the gravel on the roadside and took it easy.
How about the Bay Side Plaza again??
I sighed and shuffled on.
As the minutes rolled by and the population and crowds increased around me, I tried to regard the world through my shades and only found shadows that were once inviting to me but now seemed fake and insignificant. Everything was blinding. From the headlights of passing cars to the ever increasing neon of the Plaza's stores and theatre marquis just ahead.
And the ambiance of the voices of high schoolers and late night party goers lacked the joy and vitality it once had. It was all so depressing…and yet so real at the same time.
Things change after your spirit…your very name is wounded.
I stood around at the edge of the plaza for a while, looking at traffic, not daring to come out of the woodwork. Everyone around me was in peace and happy. And yet, I couldn't summon forth a feeling of pride from within like I could do in the past. I no longer felt responsible for their peace of mind. I no longer felt the fruits of being a hero.
Was I mistaken all along??
I sighed and leaned my head back against the building side.
Was it bound to……last only this long?
I exhaled.
And fade?
I looked out into the street. A family stood on the sidewalk. The mother and father were arguing over the contents of a map.
Probably tourists.
But their little boy was unguarded. He played with a rubber ball innocently by the bottom of his parents' legs. At one point, the ball bounced off his sneakers and rolled off into the street.
….and he went after it.
I stood up straight.
My eyes stared, unblinking.
The boy picked up the ball. He stood in the middle of the street. There was a scream----then---a screeching of a semi truck.
The screeching sound became louder, for in two thirds of a second I was already across the street and grabbing the kid up from the asphalt in mid blur. I barely squeezed us by the careening vehicle in the knick of time and sat us on the sidewalk on the other side, panting.
The sudden rush and excitement frightened the boy, and made him cry in my arms.
As the semi-truck settled, the parents ran desperately over to our position. They were followed by an anxious crowd of onlookers.
The mother was first: "Jonathan!"
I stood up and let her sweep the child into her arms. The boy sobbed into her shoulders.
"Oh my god!" the father exclaimed. "He was nearly hit! Sir, I can't thank you enough—" He took one good look at my face.
I smiled at him. But the smile left as the man stumbled back in sudden shock.
"Um….h-honey?," he tapped his wife's shoulder.
The mother was still soothing the child in their embrace when she looked at me and shared her husband's apprehension. "Y-You…."
I blinked at them from behind my shades. I was confused.
So were other people.
"What's wrong?"
"Didn't he just save the boy?"
"Ma'am? Who is it?"
The parents' eyes bulged. The mother exclaimed, "It's….It's that assassin talked about on T.V.!"
My heart fell. I looked around and noticed everyone recoiling and giving me a second glance.
"Why….he is a Titan!"
"He's the Titan!"
"The newcomer!"
"The one that journalist spoke about!"
"You mean, the mean one?"
"The one who doesn't talk!"
"The one with the sword!"
"Back off!"
"Don't hurt us…please!"
I held my hands up harmlessly and stood up.
As if the move appeared threatening, people darted away from me…especially the parents with their child.
I breathed deeply—quite freaked—and attempted to walk off.
"Where do you think you're going?!"
"You have questions to answer, Mister!"
"Yeah! Is what Mr. Glover says true?!"
"Just who do you think you are?!"
"Don't think you can frighten us, sir!!"
I gulped. I had to get out of there. These people weren't reasoning. They were a crowd. And crowds turned to mobs on a dime. No matter how heroic the martyr in question may be.
I walked back across the street towards the sidewalk that would gradually take me home.
But people were following me…and stragglers in the distanced formed a perimeter of innocent curiosity that only further hindered my escape route.
I spun around, considering the use of my powers to blur through and over everyone. But any sudden display of my gifts would only worsen the situation. I was not about to make the crowd panic on the part of my own panic.
"Ha ha ha ha!!" guffawed some beer-guzzling saphead in the background. "Look at him! He's afraid!"
I panted. I hurried my pace to get away. But I was getting more and more crowded. Maybe they all weren't hostile. Just intensely curious. But one thing people were quickly forgetting was that I was a human being, not a questionnaire with legs. Howbeit, a few irate people shoved me here and there and that's when I knew it was time to get out as soon as I possibly could--
SMASH!!!!
My whole body shook.
Everyone gasped.
"Ha ha ha ha!!" yelled the drunk from a distance. "Go home, you freak!!"
A glass beer bottle had been thrown against my head.
I winced and raised a hand to my scalp. A small, warm sensation trickled down my forehead, and I knew that I was bleeding. My body turned numb. I didn't know what to do. Evidently, neither did those immediately around me. People who were taunting and interrogating me just minutes before were now fearfully shuffling away…as if expecting me to whip a sword out of my pocket and slash them to bits.
Amidst the dizzying, bleeding confusion, I reached forward for an invisible hand. Imagine my surprise when a pair of fingers wrapped around mine. I looked painfully through my shades and saw the form of a man helping me through the crowd and swiftly out of the street and into an empty alleyway. He pulled me close and had a look at my forehead.
"Hmmm…we need to do something for that," the stranger said.
I winced and tried to get a good look at him.
He was vaguely familiar. Tall, dark-haired, physically fit. When he faced me, he smiled ever so slightly: "Do you remember me, sir?"
I blinked from behind my shades.
"Daniel, remember? Renee's husband. We had a cup of coffee together once."
I mouthed 'oh' and nodded my head. That only made it hurt all the more. I about doubled over in the pang of pain.
"Better come with me," he said, walking off and motioning for me to follow. "Don't worry…it's better than a Steak N' Shake this time."
Who was I to argue?I followed the citizen off into the night.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"I've read some of the stuff Blake Glover writes," Robin said, his face on the Main Room's monitor. "Imagine every code of honor we've ever believed in being ripped to shreds by some mangy journalist's word processor."
"Believe me, I don't want to imagine," Cyborg called over from the kitchen area, fixing himself a midnight snack. He looked up at the monitor every now and then to maintain the long-range communication with the team leader. "That guy pisses me off enough just by showing his face, much less writing some thick-headed crap." He walked over and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. "Robin, I tell you what. You and I both know it's lonely when you and the others have to go on a mission and leave the rest of us here. But the timing with this thing is absolutely terrible. Come back as soon as you can, man."
"Believe me, I'd love to," Robin's face said. "But Starfire, Beast Boy and I are hot on the trail of Overload. We think he might be sucking energy from a nearby power plant. A plan is already devised to catch him in the act. And if we succeed and the electricity-loving freak is put back into prison, then we'll make way for Home without a delay. I promise you…we'll face this Glover creep together and prove ourselves to the citizens we protect once and for all."
"But this is what I'm afraid of…," Cyborg paused in the middle of pouring himself some soda and leaned against the kitchen counter, looking up at the distant monitor. "In trying to 'prove ourselves', we might do greater damage than Glover all by himself. I hate to say it, but the man's a genius. He knows how to ensnare us and make us look bad just for attempting to preserve justice. God knows what he gains from all of this. Heh…maybe it arouses him or something."
Robin tried not chuckling at Cyborg's comment. It only half worked. Still, he kept his cool and said: "Well, do me a favor, Cyborg, and have yourself, Raven, and Noir keep out of Glover's hair."
"And what of the City?"
"By all means…don't stop for a second to answer to the call for justice!" Robin insisted. "What Glover's trying to do is intimidate us. And I'm not about to let us cower before some two-bit journalist with nothing better to do than steal prime time T.V. You will bust every criminal and foil every robbery or drug transfer that you find, regardless of what this man alleges. For that is your job. Our job. And our purpose."
"Right, right…," Cyborg smirked. "'Keep up the good fight'. One of these days, I'm gonna read you like a book, Robin."
The Boy Wonder smirked. "Don't count on it."
The elevator doors opened from behind, and Raven stepped in. She didn't look too happy.
Cyborg took notice of it. He looked up at the monitor. "Guess I better be letting you go."
"It is late," Robin nodded. "The three of us are gonna get some rest. The sting to catch Overload takes place tomorrow. Any messages you or Raven or Noir want to give to the others before I sign off?"
"Yeah…," Cyborg gave a thumb's up. "'Kick his butt'."
"Beast Boy will like that message at least," Robin said. "Anyways. Over and out."
-BLIP-
Cyborg looked slowly over at Raven. "Trouble?"
She nodded slowly, a communicator in her grasp. "Yes. With Noir."
The android took a step forward. "What?? What happened to him??"
Raven held up a finger. She calmly—but solemnly said: "He is all right. I just got done listening to his message in morse code. He's all right…but it wasn't a good night on the town for him."
Cyborg sighed and looked at the floor. "I knew it…"
A pause.
He looked up again. "What happened exactly?"
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Well, I think it's absolutely awful…," Renee said, sliding a fresh bowl of ice across the table in front of me.
I nodded thanks to her, opened the washcloth, put in a few ice cubes, folded the cloth, and reapplied it to my aching scalp.
I sat in the kitchen of their modest apartment. Renee paced about, a cup of coffee in her hand. Daniel leaned on a counter behind us.
"It's a good thing you're healing up and all," she said. "It wasn't a big cut, I suppose."
I shook my head slowly…but winced.
Renee looked down at the tiled floor.
"Picked a bad night to go out on the town, I'd say," Daniel remarked. Then he chuckled, "But who am I to lecture to a hero?"
I smiled at him…then returned to my deadpan expression with a sigh.
"That man is being way too hard on you guys…," Renee said. "How can a journalist know what you Titans go through? The sacrifices you make?"
I shrugged.
Silence.
"Do the others know you're okay?"
I nodded and pointed at my communicator.
"Ah…of course," Renee sipped from her mug and then smiled. "It's good to have friends in all this."
"I hear JCN's ratings have gone sky-high," Daniel emphasized, interrupting the tangent. "No doubt they're watching the jack roll in from this controversy they're arousing. Glover is no more than a figurehead for income. Just you wait and see. All in good time, he'll fade away. Along with his words. He won't cause any harm."
I sighed, stood up, and paced over to the window. I dropped the washcloth into the sink and stared out silently.
They could tell I was agitated.
Renee wandered over to her husband's side. The two hugged and looked at me.
The wife said: "Mr. Noir…Daniel and I….w-we meant what we told you in the past. It's much truer now…"
I slowly turned around and faced the two across the kitchen from me.
"We have and always will be grateful for what the Titans did for us…," she said, leaning into her husband's embrace. "And you must realize, it's our opinion that matters, sir. Not that of some two-bit reporter or a broadcasted questionnaire accumulated by biased, media-driven mobs. It's the people you think about and look out for every day of your sacrificed lives. That's what really counts. And, I'm sure, that's what will drive you to continue being virtuous…no matter how mean these journalists might get."
I stared at them.
"We believe in your strength, sir," Daniel added. "If anyone can face off to these allegations, you're able. Look inside yourself and see the truth that you know is there. The truth that you know guides you each night. The same truth that makes Renee and I happy to be alive and happy even today."
Slowly…gradually…I smiled. I bowed my head at them momentarily and mouthed: 'Thank you'.
They chuckled and one of them said: "Stole the words from our mouths."
And I shrugged.
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"Sir…look at these," a photographer dumped a pile of photonegatives onto the desk.
Blake Glover swiveled around from the computer in his office, put on some glasses, and looked closely at the pictures.
A beat.
"When were these taken?" he asked.
"Two and a half hours ago."
The journalist looked up.
He grinned.
Cracking his knuckles, he swiped the pictures up and went back to the keyboard…typing like mad.
"Looks like we have a busy night ahead of us before it becomes time to print, Avery."
"Should I contact the head editor, sir?"
"I'm way ahead of you."