These Black Eyes

by P0ST

The ongoing adventures and experiences of the Teen Titans, as witnessed through the eyes of a silent newcomer.

153. J part 1

153. J part 1

His fingers danced gracefully over the piano keys.

Chords formed a weepingly soft rhythm from the shadows.

The piano is old…but its strength and size speaks of something archaically majestic. It shines beneath the layer of dust and soot in the corner of the decrepit room.

He's dwarfed by the instrument. And yet his fingers are patient as they seek out all corners of the playing field.

The tune rises, falters, and gently dies in a beautiful fashion.

And when it is over, he leans back, exhales, and hugs his small self.

Alone…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Dear Diana,

I am all right.

Less than twenty-four hours ago I returned home from an exhausting ordeal at the hand of Fate…literally. Jinx—the former Third Apprentice of Slade and rogue of both state and the Hierarchy for International Vendetta and Extermination—had me handcuffed to her in what ended up being a true adventure in the physical, mental, and political sense. There are too many things to simply sum up in a single letter to your Highness. And I can only imagine that the Justice League has enough troubles of their own to ever possibly be concerned with our neck of the woods.

To keep things brief……the Titans have quite an ordeal on their hands. And things haven't felt this stressful since the day Slade was still alive.

There has been a terrible tragedy at our Prison. Something that has involved casualties of both inmates and guards unsuspecting of their bloody doom. Well over a dozen lives perished when an enormous explosion ricocheted through the Omega Wing of the Northern Structure. The result of this was a running amok of hundreds of the most notorious convicts of this part of the country—but eve worse is the release of far more problematic supervillains.

Thankfully, the intervention on behalf of the Titans and I managed to suppress and recapture most of these eccentrically evil individuals…but a few still got away. Jinx is still on the loose now—if I haven't already given that impression. Also escaped from our clutches is Mammoth, Fang, and Killer Moth. It may be fortunate that only so few got away from our hands……but it is still unacceptable. There were many lives lost at the prison…and many of the Titans—myself included—feel that we owe it to them to retrieve these criminals back and project a legitimate sense of security back over the people of this City.

Also if we don't do anything about it, Commissioner Decker will have our genitals in a tin can.

Which explains why I'm making this letter short. In under an hour, Robin, the rest of the crew, and I will be embarking upon a public service speech thingy over at the Police Department. Commissioner Decker and the Mayor wants us to assure the people—via JCN Broadcasting—that we'll be doing all we can to track down the villains and get this prison debacle organized.

And the one thing about all of this that bothers me is that……well……I feel personally responsible for letting one of the villains go. Only because I did let one of the villains go.

Jinx is free because of me. And I don't feel bad about it. I almost feel as if I did the world some sort of strange favor through an obtuse action like that. Why, Diana? I wish I could explain it to you. My head is spinning with things like at the end of a horizontal roller coaster. I don't know how things started moving so fast……and yet I get the feeling as if they've been moving so fast all along. My vision is blacking out in my sleep and turning red around the edges. I'm experiencing someone else's dreams. I'm getting chills everyday.

Something terrible is going to happen.

Hopefully……not to anyone save for myself.

In expectations of a warm future,

Noir

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"……………"

Silence.

Robin sighed.

Knock Knock Knock

Robin stood up.

He quietly shut the bedside table, hiding the picture frame.

He walked over to the door of his room.

He pressed the side panel.

Schwiiish!!

Starfire stood with her hands clasped together. She smiled subtly….ever so pleasantly. "Robin…is it not time for our departure?"

"That it is, Star…," Robin sauntered out along with her. The two trotted down the hallway. "Let's go round up the others."

"Certainly, Robin. But….may I ask……..was there important business of yours to attend to in your room?"

"…..," Robin glanced back. A beat. He turned around. "Nah. Nothing at all."

And they entered the elevator.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"I know it's gross. But think about it, dude!! In sometime in his life…Christ had to have defecated!"

"Come on, Beast Boy….," Cyborg shook his head. "Let's not talk about that sort of thing."

"Why not?!?! Tell me you don't think about the Almighty Savior pooping once in a while!!" Beast Boy cackled. "I mean….yeah, he was the Son of God and stuff…but he had the body of a man! Jeez….if he ate and broke bread….then the stuff had to have gone somewhere!"

Cyborg groaned and ran a hand over his face. He looked my way from across the entrance hall of the Tower. "Noir….help me out here, dawg."

I simpered and hand-signed: 'I'm agnostic'.

"The Hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Beast Boy's making a point," Raven said.

"I am?" Beast Boy giggled.

She glared momentarily from over the pages of her book and went on. "To assume that Christ was incapable of physical and bodily functions is a testament to the overtly sanctified ambiguity of his persona. If you ask me, when Christians ignore the fact that Christ was capable of defecation, urination, and ejaculation…they ignore the fact that he was flesh and blood. And the fact that he was flesh and blood only underlines his purpose here on Earth to die agonizingly for all of our sins."

Beast Boy whistled. "That's pretty deep." The green elf smiled at me. "I was just gonna make a 'holy toilet paper' joke."

I simpered.

"Say Rae," Cyborg smirked. "I don't think I asked you. What religion do you follow?"

Raven flipped a page in her book. "Sylvia Plath."

"Ah."

Tempest raised his hand: "Um……excuse me?"

"Yes, Flipper?"

"Who's Jesus Christ?"

"………."

"………."

"………."

"……….," Beast Boy blinked. He looked Cyborg's way. "Allright….where's our Veggie Tales collection?"

Cyborg shrugged.

The elevator doors opened and Robin and Starfire walked out.

I stood up at attention.

"At ease," Robin muttered.

"Way ahead of you dude," Beast Boy spoke. "We're in the domain of animated cucumbers and holy fecal matter."

"…………..yeah," Robin blinked. "Anyways…enough lounging around." He droned: "We have an event to attend."

Raven nodded and folded her book away.

"Say Robin, you alright man?" Cyborg pointed. "You seem kinda…..I dunno………out of it."

"…………," Robin said.

"Robin has been busily occupied with nothing in his room!" Starfire pleasantly announced. "Hehehe! Though he is most humble and meek in dismissing his behavior, I am quite sure that he has the most glorious plan drafted for today's Titan itinerary and—"

"No need for narration, Star," Robin grumbled. He walked off through the entrance of the Tower. "Come on, guys. Let's move."

"………..," we all stared at him.

"What's his problem?" Tempest blankly asked.

Starfire held her hands together with a sympathetic expression on her face. "Robin is……quite typically troubled when villains escape our surveillance. The fact that so many miscreants have escaped the prison and the H.I.V.E. Academy at Bludhaven troubles him greatly. He is rather……..rather….."

"Obsessed?" Tempest raised an eyebrow.

Cyborg chuckled.

The Atlantean looked his way. "That sound funny to you?"

"No," Beast Boy smirked. "It's right on, dude."

Tempest shrugged. "I don't see what's the big problem. I mean….Robin does all that he can! He does more than he can! And yet he still bangs himself in the head when so much as the littlest thing goes contrary to our plans. Was he always this way?"

"Heh….," Cyborg got up, flipping the 'key' to the T-Car in his grasp. "…does the Sun set in the West?"

"Actually, when you're a half-mile deep underwater, the refraction of all the liquid tends to—"

"Thanks, Flipper. Make love to Captain Nemo's corpse or something. Like Robin said, we gotta move."

Beast Boy chuckled and followed the exiting Cyborg.

Tempest looked at Raven funny. "Did he treat Noir like this when he was still new?"

Raven hung the hood of her cloak over her head. "Noir doesn't ask obvious questions," she left.

"Well, I guess that makes sens—heyyyy!!"

The dark girl was gone.

Tempest sighed and scratched his head. He looked at me. "Is it just me, or is everyone today one sponge short of a coral reef?"

"………"

"Noir??"

I snapped out of it. The chill in my arm that was suddenly there was suddenly not there. I looked dazedly in Tempest's direction.

"You okay?"

I smiled bashfully.

"Let's get this over with, man. I need to take a day-long swim….even if it means scouring the rivers for signs of Homicidal Butterfly….or whoever the Hell it is we're searching for again."

I nodded.

I walked side-by-side with him out the Tower.

Sighing.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

VRMMMMM!!!

Robin blazed by on the R-Cycle.

I watched tiredly from the back of the T-Car as Robin's motorcycle sped ahead of us on the land ridge.

As we road into Town, I was sandwiched between Raven on my left and Tempest on my right. Beast Boy was in the far right of the rear compartment. Starfire was in the front passenger seat. Cyborg of course…..

"Man….suddenly he's quick as the wind," Cyborg smirked.

"Eh….he just wants to be alone," Beast Boy gestured with a bored hand. "He always wants to be alone."

"Beast Boy, that is an erroneous statement," Starfire glanced in the rear view mirror. "Robin's social mood takes on a spirit of enthusiasm whenever he and I engage in a leisurely convers—"

"You don't count, Star," Beast Boy winked.

She pouted. "Why do I not count?"

"You're like Robin's replacement hip!"

"………..huh?"

"Beast Boy??" Cyborg glanced back once. "Whatcha getting' at, man?"

"Who here will deny that Starfire and Robin are like two peas in a pod nowadays?"

"I'll deny it," Tempest raised his hand. He smirked. "I'll deny anything."

"He will," Raven droned.

I smiled…only slightly.

"We are two components of Terran seedlings?" Starfire blinked.

"No, Star….," Beast Boy shook his head. He leaned his head forward and practically spoke into her ear: "Don't you think that you two are…..oh…..kinda sorta close?"

Starfire instantly—betrayingly—blushed a deep red-on-amber skin. "Cl-Close? Why….B-Beast Boy, whatever could you mean? Robin is on his R-Cycle and here I am presently positioned in Cyborg's 'Baby'!"

Cyborg laughed.

Beast Boy giggled.

Tempest raised an eyebrow.

"What is it th-that is so amusing?" Starfire stammered.

"Just never thought I'd see the day," Beast Boy folded his arms with a smirk. A beat. "The alien naiveté becomes a strategic device of avoidance."

"Avoidance??" Starfire blinked.

"Your innocence shall always floor us, Star," Cyborg spoke while steering. "But come on. Stop faking it. You and Robbie are close and you know it."

Starfire folded her arms and pouted. "Hrumph! On my planet, friends do not make such unwarranted allegations!"

"I think her ears are turning crimson," Tempest pointed.

"Hah hah hah!"

"Hehehehe!!"

Starfire bit her lip. "Cease! Desist! I did not intend for this discussion to take such a…a….Koriand'r-centralized turn!"

"You're flusterrrrred!" Beast Boy pointed.

"I am not the flustered!!" Starfire barked.

Cyborg glanced in the rear view mirror. "Is she flustered, Raven?"

"She's flustered, Cyborg."

"Ha ha ha!!"

"Ohhhhh," Starfire covered her face with her hands and practically curled up in her seat with embarrassment. "X'Hal….Why can I not possess human melatonin??"

I reached forward and patted her shoulder assuredly.

She glanced back at me. "Noir….are you one to relate?" murmured the Tamaranian.

I shrugged with a smile.

"I bet he is," Beast Boy smiled mischievously.

"He is," Raven droned out the window.

I glared at her---

Beast Boy leaned across Tempest and shouted in my ear: "SUPERGIRL IN A LEATHER BODYSUIT!!"

"…..," I looked at Beast Boy. I chuckled breathily.

Beast Boy's ears sank. "It didn't do nothing!"

Tempest shoved his head out of his face, teeth gritting. "Tell me about it."

I shrugged.

"You're not doing it right," Raven droned.

"Huh??" Beast Boy blinked.

"????"

Raven cleared her throat. "Supergirl walking home Sunday morning church."

I shook my head and was about to smirk…when I felt my face doing something different.

"Whoah!! He's blushing!!"

"!!!!" I glanced in the rear-view mirror.

Shit.

"I'll be damned….," Cyborg chuckled.

I swallowed.

I was blushing even more.

"There ya go!!" Beast Boy smirked. "Kara all prettied head to toe in a summer frock!"

Dammit, don't say 'frock'!

I shook my head and groaned.

"And a cute hat with flowers on it!" Starfire added.

Not her too!! ARGH!!

I bent over and hid my face with my hands over my dark head.

"Hehehehe!!" Beast Boy doubled over. "Excellent!"

"Hehehe! Spread the fluster!" added Starfire, no longer the center.

"Wyrd as all get out," Cyborg shook his head. "Way to go, Raven."

"It's not me. It's Noir's head."

"Hehehe! I'd say!"

"Who's Supergirl?"

"Shut up, Flipper."

"Okay…."

Slowly, agonizingly, I glared at Raven.

She blinked calmly at me. "What? I'm not the one who fantasizes about carrying books gentlemanly for a country girl."

And since when did I ever tell you---aw crud.

My ears burned.

And I swore I saw a curve to the edge of Raven's lips.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Robin arrived at the front of the Police Department early. They were still setting up a 'stage' of sorts with portable platforms for the televised event. Only a meager crowd had formed at that point, though more promised to show up later. Workers busily finished constructing the last of the stage while JCN broadcast vans gathered on one-side and police and security officers gathered on the other. There was a general buzz of voices in the air that gave the Autumn afternoon an ample ambiance. The air was thin and vulnerable to knives from the oncoming cold front.

Robin cut off his bike and pushed down a kickstand or two. He dismounted, removed his helmet, and took a deep breath.

A beat.

He shivered. His teeth grit. There was a sometimes a disadvantage to wearing tights out in the open….

Robin didn't have much time to either freeze or brood.

A set of footsteps.

A hoarse clearing of the throat.

A voice:

"When I said the Titans, I meant more than just one pimply wonderhero…"

Robin sighed. He swiveled around and more or less slurred: "Hello there, Commissioner."

"……," Decker was decked in a trenchcoat over his normally disheveled business shirt and tie. He glared at Robin…but not quite in a menacing way. Decker was always about 'glaring' anyways. "Don't look so sour, kid. I'm not here to castrate you. Today is one of my lazy days."

Robin hugged his upper body and leaned against the steep steps of the police department's steps. "Good. Maybe that means this day will last longer."

"Hmmm?"

"More time to gather thoughts and evidence on those we're after….," Robin slurred. A beat. "And console the citizens of this City, of course."

"Of course."

A beat.

Decker shuffled down a few steps and produced a cigarette. He lit it calmly, took a puff, and blew. "You look cold," he said without looking.

Robin breathed out of his nostrils. "I am."

"Want me to get a sergeant out here to give you a lap dance or something?"

"You forget who you're talking to."

"I forget nothing, kid," Decker puffed again. "Least of all how prompt you seven were in answering the call to the prison."

"………," Robin glanced at the man. "Does that mean you're proud of us?"

The Commissioner grumbled. "It means that my crew is getting raggedy-ass-slow. And security isn't what it should be. The prison had no excuse for being as vulnerable as it was three days ago. What with the multiple strikes by Slug and Reload, Viper, and Cinderblock…..it should have been well fortified by now. Over forty people have died at this prison alone in the last twelve months. Forty, Robin…."

A beat.

The man groaned and sighed forth a stream of lethargic smoke. "And to think I once barked up your teenage asses….."

"…….," Robin stared at him. A beat. "Yeah…..," he looked downward.

Decker blinked at him for a moment or two, then glanced away.

Silence.

"I don't know why I'm so cold all of the sudden….," Robin suddenly opened up. "I grew up in Gotham for crying out loud."

"So I've heard," Decker smirked.

Robin gestured to a wall of air in front of him. "It's barely even early winter…and yet…..there's something chilling…..s-so very chilling about today."

"Stage fright?"

"No…," Robin leaned back and sighed. "Just……change."

"………"

"………"

"………change?"

"I'm not ashamed that we let so many criminals get loose. We bagged the rest of them, after all. A good eighty-five percent of them, in fact," Robin said. "What I regret is that…..I have no clue why they got loose to begin with."

"Ah."

"Cyborg and I have done some studies on the multiple prison reports you've supplied us….and we can't imagine what caused either the explosion or the supplication of the villains' gear."

"Assuming it wasn't Jinx…."

"Exactly…," Robin nodded. "Jinx has a lot of friends in mysterious places, so it would seem. From invisible assassins to hackers. But nobody…..NOBODY could have gotten into the Omega Wing without someone or some system noticing it." He stared at the Commissioner. "You'd know that, wouldn't you?"

"I'd sure hope so."

"Sure, the prison may have had a lot of gaps in its security net….but it would have been utter suicide for someone to set up a bomb in the Omega Wing."

"Perhaps it was Suicide," Decker flicked his cigarette down to the steps and clamped his shoe over it. "Many would-be-suspects perished in the blast. Prisoners and would-be-traitorous-guards alike."

"We've thought of that too," Robin nodded. He scratched his chin in thought. "But it's pointless and unethical to start pointing fingers."

"Heh….speak for yourself."

Robin momentarily glared before going on: "I feel….I-I feel like I've been in this place before."

"Have you now?"

"Yes," Robin nodded. "Helplessly clueless. Vulnerable to some sort of invisible, coldly plotting evil. I feel that this prison explosion is just the beginning of something. Like the first link in a chain. I'm….I-I'm almost reminded of the Sakura Scraper…."

Even Decker seemed to shudder at that. "The beginning of Slade's last bombing run…."

"…..," Robin nodded.

Silence.

Only the distant sounds of crewmen setting up the last of the stage.

"I don't want any of the Titans falling for the same sort of trap again….," Robin mumbled. "….I'd give anything. Even my own life."

"Now wouldn't that put a damper on my daughter's schoolgirl crush," Decker muttered.

Robin did a double take. "Y-You're a father, sir?"

Decker smirked. "Nope. Just seeing if you're awake. Shits and giggles, kid."

"…….," Robin stared off and shook his head. "Sometimes I can't believe you lead a police department."

"I can't believe you wear a cape."

"Touché'."

A beat.

"Yeah….," Robin rubbed his arms again. "It's c-cold." A beat. "But somehow…..it's not as cold as it can be."

"Good," Decker scratched his neck. "That means you can get your ass onto camera in about twenty, right?"

"S-Sure."

"Then that's what you're gonna do," Decker turned and made to walk across the steps. "Then you can go home and have your tree house detective party for all I care."

Robin reached out for him. "Commissioner!"

"The Hell is it now?"

"Maggie Sawyer…….Maggie Sawyer in Metropolis….," Robin's eyemask narrowed. "Has she made any comments on possibly handing the Headmistress over to you?"

Decker sighed. A beat. "Things are a little sketchy as it is. Maggie has always been a bit razor-edged and dominant about whom she interrogates ever since Turpin bit the bullet and all. But….." A beat. And the Commissioner's face lightened up ever so slightly.

Robin smiled at that. "Got it. I look forward to updates."

"I ain't no damn newsletter."

"Go to your policemen, Commissioner."

"Go to Hell," he walked off.

Robin finally managed to chuckle that day.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

When the rest of us arrived, the day was still cold. The sky was a pleasant autumn blue. The City's building faces seemed all the clearer in their granite greatness.

And a huge crowd had formed in the blocked-off street. Reporters, citizens, and city officials formed in a large mass up to a solid line of tape where police officers kept them from advancing on the stage. But there was no sign that the people would do anything drastic. They were patient….patient to hear…

Patient to hear the Titans.

Robin stood a distant ten feet away at the base of the steps leading up to the temporary stage. It was 'temporary' because the rest of the Titans were definitely separated from him and squished together in the thin space left over between the back of the stage and base of the steps.

"I can barely stand up straight back here, man," Cyborg grumbled. "I sure hope Robin and the Commissioner have us walk up there soon or else I'm gonna start having things to complain about on TV."

"Like what?" Raven droned.

"…………El Nino."

"If you must speak, say something constructive.

I hand-signed to Cyborg: 'That is my motto.'

"It is not, dawg!"

I smirked.

"Augh!" Cyborg lost balance.

Bump!

"Eek! My grebnaks!"

Cyborg winced. "S-Sorry…."

"Envatta s'tal thriel…," Starfire blushed.

"…..," I looked over at Beast Boy and Tempest.

"I'm telling you, this is it, dude! I'm gonna let you stand closer to the center of the group. That way….you'll get all the camera attention you can possibly get! Remembering that Robin's gonna be in the foreground of course…."

"And the point of all this is……what?" Tempest asked, eyebrow raised.

"Dude! Weren't you listening to me? Until now, the only chance you've had to make yourself known to the people of this City has been through scant photos taken at crime-busting scenes and editorials by old farts in the newspaper on our vigilantism! But television is it, man!! After today, you'll no longer be a newby in the eyes of the City! People will see you on the news and say: 'Hey! That's Tempest! He's a Teen Titan! Wow, we should write fan newsletters and stuff about him!' And imagine all the girls who'll flock at your feet from hereon out! I mean….you've got the hair and body and—everything for it, man! You'll be the Titans' poster boy! I can show you off and get someone to buy me a moped!"

"You sure do look awfully far ahead," Tempest smirked with his arms folded. "If I remember right, we're all here for Robin to give his speech on protecting the City and stuff. You forget about that?"

"Dude….I don't forget things," Beast Boy winked.

"Where's the double-sized shower I was promised?"

"Uhhhhh---huh?"

Tempest planted his hands on his hips. "When I came back from Atlantis, you promised you'd remind Cyborg to renovate the lavatory in my quarters into a king's sized shower stall! Or was that forgotten?"

"Stick to non-boring things, dude. THAT'S what I'm not forgetful about!"

Tempest sighed. "I don't know why I shouldn't just drown you sometimes…."

"It's because I'm cute."

"No….it's because you can turn green and grow gills on the fly!!"

"Hehehehe!!"

I shook my head.

I glanced over at the crowd.

The people were somewhat difficult to spot out individually from where I stood. I did have a good-sized stage blocking my perspective, for one thing. For another…I expected nothing special. And indeed—as I lethargically gazed upon them—I found nothing special. Just gray bodies in gray suits performing gray broadcasting jobs or gray interview jobs or gray reporting specials. The audience looked like a standing sea of craning faces with mountains of JCN Vans looming in the hairy horizon. I wanted to throw up.

Somewhere behind all that……there is the City I want to save.

So I didn't think much else of it.

And then I saw him.

Just the head first.

A few feet below the rest.

Horrendously blonde.

I raised an eyebrow.

I looked again.

Somewhere in the back of my mind's black eye, I expected to see something or someone I half recognized. Like the breath of autumn laughing back into my lungs and out again.

A short figure……

Shuffling through the crowd.

Young……very young.

Clean, smooth blonde hair.

Nothing.

I blinked.

The Hell was that??

I was confused in confusion itself.

And it was around that point that someone signaled Robin. And Robin signaled us. And we signaled our own feet to move over and up the stage.

The broadcast was beginning.

I straggled behind…

-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a special JCN New Bulletin. We now go live to the front of the City Police Department where Commissioner Decker is currently speaking to a gathering crowd about the recent events at the City Prison. It's reported that Robin and the other Teen Titans are to make an appearance and perhaps even a speech. Harry, over to you."

"Thank you, Marilyn. Behind me you can see a stage that was set up with a podium and everything—all stuff we typically see from Commissioner Decker and the other City officials when a special announcement is to be made. But I've had it confirmed for me this afternoon that—indeed—the Titans will be making an appearance, most likely to address the crowd on the subject of the recent explosions and escapes at the City Prison. As you all may well know, five highly wanted convicts made their escape in a single morning following a huge blast in the Prison's Omega Wing that cost the lives of nearly two dozen people. The five high-profiled escapees include Jinx, Fang, Killer Moth, Gizmo and Mammoth. Now Gizmo was turned in to Metropolitan Police yesterday for reasons unknown. Hopefully this is going to clear up somethings—"

"Harry, we see Decker ascending the podium now."

"—that's right, Marilyn! Ray, see if you can focus in on the Commissioner. We're gonna switch over to the man's microphone and get this address with the best clarity possible……"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"Yesterday, a yet-unfinished-chapter of the Prison Explosion Debacle finally came into play. In pursuing the escaped suspect Jinx, the Titans discovered an Academy of the Hierarchy for International Vendetta and Extermination in Bludhaven. Shortly upon that discovery, the Academy experienced a terrible battle from within…the results of which have given over to the hands of police authorities in Metropolis terrorists in training such as Disruptor, Deuce, Charger, Gizmo, and the Headmistress of H.I.V.E. herself."

Voices in the crowd muttered.

Shock and murmurs.

We stood in the shadows silent.

Robin cracked his gloved knuckles. His eyemask gazed at the floor. "….."

Under a strobe of flashbulbs, Decker continued: "This marks the first major fall of H.I.V.E.'s Western foothold in our region—even the entire country—in decades. Furthermore, suspects that were accosted at the scene are currently being questioned as to the nature of H.I.V.E.'s leftover fortresses in this hemisphere as well as for possible information regarding the terrible tragedy that took place at the Prison three days ago."

Decker—his temper and potty mouth greatly withheld—then turned and gestured towards the Boy Wonder on the sidelines.

"To best fill you in on the recent endeavors made to track down these criminals—plus the new straggling strands of H.I.V.E.—we have Robin of the Teen Titans here to address the crowd and JCN Broadcasting. He and Raven were there to see the crumbling of the Bludhaven Academy. And it was also they who personally tracked down Gizmo and brought him and the others to justice. Robin….you may take the stand."

The Boy Wonder nodded. A deep breath. A shuffling of feet….

….he walked over to the podium.

There was no cheering. No hormonal howl or cat call from some youthful member of the crowd. Everyone there was mature, anxious, and waiting….

A few voices cleared and more flashbulbs went off.

Robin was initially silent as he found himself—much to his chagrin—having to stand on the tips of his boots to display the better half of his torso above the podium.

Starfire did her best to suppress a giggle.

Tempest smirked.

"Ahem…..," Robin's voice hoarsely crackled over the speakers. He swallowed and gained his strength: "Ladies and gentleman. Citizens of the City one and all. When the Titans and I rushed upon the explosive scene at the Prison, we were shocked, horrified, and disgusted. The fires and the destruction we witnessed in between combating this region's most notorious terrorists filled us with dread and remorse. Please believe me when I tell you that our hearts have always and will always go out to the families of victims perishing needlessly in our land on a week to week basis. It is the sort of pain like that as of recent that moves us to fight our ways to the heart of the matter. Right now, many of you may be thinking that we missed the heart of the matter with the Prison…and such may be why a tragedy has taken place. The fact of the matter is, we Titans never miss. But on occasion….villains don't miss either."

Camera lens focused. Reporters aimed microphones. Eyes stared fixedly forward.

Robin continued without stopping: "The perpetrator of the prison bombing remains nameless. But like all perpetrators, nobody remains traceless. I am convinced that there are five major traces. Gizmo as one…but he's since been found and is back in our custody. Jinx is another. And as much as her escape was publicized—being that many suspect her of the bombing—people may not be surprised to learn from us as they've already learned before that she's still on the loose. But we've found something far greater than the pink sorceress herself. We found H.I.V.E."

Robin shifted in his stance and continued with a gesture of his glove.

"H.I.V.E. is just what it sounds like. A cove. A cove of villains. A central hub of evil. And for whatever reasons, this hub has all but caved in on itself. A powerless Headmistress and a student body of terrorists in disarray suggest a tremendous schism taking place in the criminal underworld today. I am convinced that this is all related to the prison bombing and escapes. There is something at work in this City. There has almost always been something at work in this City. But at the same time….there has always been something to counter such insidious developments. When Slade threatened this City over and over again, the Titans were there to answer to him and eliminate his terrible plots. When Dagger raised his ugly head, his legacy was cut short. The Titans have sweat and toiled to put these threats into submission. And we have succeeded. Slade and Dagger are dead. And as of recent—most of the prisoners who tried to escape are back where they belong. The only traces left are Fang and Killer Moth. But soon they will face their reckoning. For we don't sweat and toil for nothing….we do it out of the respect and admiration of this City and its inherit life and goodness. We won't let these villains get away. We will chase them down. We will lock them back up. And we will ensure that this entire region is safe and secure from anxiety again…."

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

To tell the truth, I had read Robin's speech ahead of time. Supposedly Tempest and Raven had as well. I didn't really know for sure. I didn't really care.

I was blacking out. Not so much in the manner of being asleep. But instead…..

"…….."

I folded my arms and gazed past Robin's shoulders, past the crowd, past the flashing(stabbing!)cameras. Past the gray of the City beneath the cold blue of Autumn.

I wonder if she'd really mind if I carried books for her sometime.

"………."

I shook my head and snapped out of that.

A sigh.

My black eyes blinked.

And….

I saw him again.

"…..?????"

I leaned forward.

I narrowed my black eyes under my shades.

And….

In the crowd.

Moving through.

Short blonde hair. Smooth.

Small stature.

Eyes……

My lips parted some.

Green eyes?

A blink.

Who……is that???

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"…already have confirmation of sightings as far out as Barrymore. And as it stands, the Titans and I are discussing a plan to branch out and search each location to learn more of Fang and Killer Moth's last locations," Robin continued as he gazed out at the crowd. "We've dealt with these two before. Sometimes together. Sometimes apart. But both have one thing in common. They always….ALWAYS leave traces of themselves behind. And the Titans will be quick on their trail…."

As the Boy Wonder spoke, he became slightly aware of a small figure moving slowly, liquidly through the crowd. A figure that was uniquely different. Uniquely…..small…..

"We have the assistance of Commissioner Decker and the Police Department in this investigation." Robin's head turned ever so slightly towards the center of the crowd. "Also the state troopers have agreed to lend the highway patrol….in order to….m-make up for……th-those hurt during…..the…….Jinx pursuit……" The Boy Wonder's eyemask was narrowing. He was being distracted by something. His voice lingered off.

That 'something' turned out to be a boy. A twelve-year old boy. A little thing peering out from behind the crowd. He was a stranger. Something or someone that didn't belong there. And yet……and yet….

The Boy Wonder's lips hung open a bit in mid-speech.

A few people started mumbling.

Raven and Cyborg exchanged glances.

The boy came into full view. He was dressed in a modest polo shirt and khaki shorts. He couldn't have been more than four and a half feet tall. He looked up….stared directly at Robin….and smiled.

With green eyes.

Robin stared back.

Green eyes……

And.

"!!!!" Robin gasped.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Dizzily, the Boy Wonder nearly collapsed over the podium.

Starfire jumped. "R-Robin??"

Decker shifted uncomfortably.

There were mutterings of confusion and shock from the crowd.

I leaned forward, my brow furrowed.

For a second there, we all swore Starfire was going to rush over toward the Titan's Leader side, but instead she stayed put.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Robin was standing up straight again.

He was panting.

Sweat ran down his brow.

He stared out into the crowd and…

….and there was no one. No one out of the ordinary.

Robin swallowed, ran a hand through his hair, and uttered: "E-Excuse me….," he cleared his throat and simpered. "I think I put my cape on too tight this morning."

Chuckles arose from the crowd.

Smiles and nodding of heads.

The faces were still again.

The flashbulbs resumed.

Robin took a deep breath and continued: "A-As I was saying before I…er….l-lost myself. Ahem. The Titans will not be alone in tracking down these wandering miscreants. We have the assistance of law enforcement between here and Metropolis on our side. In fact, Commissioner Decker just got done talking to Maggie Sawyer this morning regarding the Headmistress of H.I.V.E. in custody and—"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Starfire had her hands cupped together. She smiled pleasantly now….relieved.

Beast Boy leaned in towards Tempest: "You think he was having an aneurysm?"

Tempest leaned back. "You think I care?"

"Heheheheh."

Silence again.

The whole time…..The whole time I was staring into the crowd.

"……."

The boy could no longer be seen. I couldn't spot him anymore behind the towering bodies of the reporters and other adults in the crowd.

I exhaled strongly through my nostrils.

Where did he go?

Silence.

And where……wh-where have I seen him before??

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Later….after the press conference and back at the Tower….

"I swear, man. You've been looking dazed all morning," Cyborg said as he paced leisurely with Robin through the hallway on the seventh floor. "Like you missed out on a month of sleep. And just what's your excuse? Noir was the one chained to an escaped convict for over thirty-two hours of nonstop annoyance! Heh!"

"……..," Robin found himself gazing out a window at the beautiful Autumn day as they passed by.

Cyborg's human eye blinked as he stared down at him. "Robbie?"

"H-Huh?" Robin looked up with a thin eyemask. He shook his head. "I-I'm sorry. Could you…..I dunno…repeat what you last said?"

"You okay, dawg?" Cyborg paused in a thoughtful pose. "You don't look so good. If I knew better, I'd say you were in good need of a shot. Be it a shot of morphine or a shot of sunshine….I dunno."

"Yeah….I……I…..," Robin gazed out the window again. "……………….y-yeah……"

Cyborg was silent. Suddenly, his hand was touching Robin's forehead. "Hmmm…….nope. That ain't it. Guess only a psychiatrist could go deep enough to see what's wrong with your skull."

Robin pouted. "Very funny."

"Heh….I hope so."

"What do you mean?"

"I've had my hand on your forehead for a full seven seconds and you still haven't batted my wrist away like a good Boy Wonder," Cyborg lowered the appendage in question. "Why don't you go get some sleep, man? I'd hate to be the one to break it to you first….but you need it."

"Yeah…….Y-Yeah….maybe I should," Robin said….still gazing out the window.

"So you actually agree with me?"

"Something wrong with that?"

Cyborg shrugged. "Just seeing how dazed you really are."

"Yeah….I guess I…..I-I-I just guess I was stressing too much over the speech earlier," Robin mumbled as he ran a gloved hand over his face. "It must have taken more out of me than I imagined."

"Heheheheheheheheh…."

Robin frowned. "Now what's so funny?"

"You admitting to stressing too much over something…..that's all."

"I'm entitled to a little honesty every now and then, aren't I?" Robin grumbled. "Sheesh. What is this, a review?"

"Now don't start whining on me," Cyborg pointed. "You're beginning to sound like Flipper."

"Heaven forbid," Robin said. He gazed off into space for a good ten seconds until he seemingly realized it and took another ten sluggish seconds to look at Cyborg and suddenly ask: "H-Have you seen…..Starfire?"

Cyborg blinked at that. "Um….yeah, dawg. She's up with Raven and Beast Boy making 'grilled tofu cheese deluxe'. I tried talking them out of it….but when Raven joined in—heh—what could I say? She's practically more nuts than you lately. Which makes me wonder…," he smirked and planted his metal hands on his hips. "Just what did you two do while pursuing Jinx and Noir alone."

"What's it matter to you?" Robin grumbled.

"……," Cyborg leaned forward. "Should you even ask by now?"

"…….oh," Robin remarked. A beat. He leaned back a bit with a wider eyemask. "Oh……"

Cyborg glanced around with an innocent, off-beat gaze.

"Whatever…," Robin gestured. He stretched—but didn't yawn—as he turned towards the far side of the hallway. "….this day was too cold from the get go. I'm taking you up on your advice."

"C-Cold?"

"Cold," Robin walked forward…..and nearly bumped into me.

I jumped back.

Robin was dizzy. I almost envisioned him falling over. Instead, he balanced himself and looked up liquidly at me. "Noir…..where are you off to?"

I simpered. Indeed, I was dressed in denim on denim. Jacket, jeans, and white t-shirt. 'Strolling' material.

"I honestly can't blame him," Cyborg shrugged from behind Robin. "With that tofu nightmare happening upstairs, I should probably be heading out too. I hear Flipper's taken to the Bay to drown his head out for a while."

I hand-signed.

Cyborg interpreted with a smirk: "He says he's been out in the fresh air with Jinx too much to enjoy being out in the fresh air."

"Whatever….," Robin waved. "Just……….watch for cars."

Robin sauntered off lethargically down the hallway.

Cyborg and I watched him.

"………"

I turned and gazed at my android friend. I hand-signed.

Cyborg replied: "I dunno. I think puberty is finally kicking in."

I stuck my tongue out.

Cyborg chuckled. He walked off. "Cya, man. Don't go cheating on Kara out there, you here? With a face like that, you're only bound to!"

I walked off with my hands in denim-laced pockets.

Save your flirting for Raven……

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Robin locked the door to his room. He turned around and—clad in a white t-shirt and sweatpants—shuffled over to his bed.

"I suppose one nap in a year wouldn't kill me….," he muttered.

He all but collapsed onto the mattress, gazed up at the ceiling, and sighed.

"Why do I feel………..n-numb…..all over?"

Silence.

He groaned. His hands tossed the covers open and he slid his body in. He turned over to his side and….

A pause.

The Boy Wonder's hidden eyes lingered on the drawer of the bedside table.

But his hands didn't.

"I have more 'real' things to obsess over….," he mumbled to himself.

His hand reached up and over to the lamp.

-click-

He was bathed in the darkness of his windowless room. And it wasn't until the shadows truly enveloped his figure-snuggling into the warmth of the lonesome bed-that he finally peeled his eyemask off and shut his naked eyes to oblivion.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Time flew as did the City beneath my feet.

And yet it was all at a leisurely pace.

I walked slowly through the City, staring more at the asphalt and sidewalk pavement than anything. I didn't realize the sun had fallen and the early Autumn evening had descended until it did, surprising me. I gazed up and caught glimpses of stars through the vaporous breaths echoing out of my nostrils.

Yes.

It was cold that day. That night.

But as of late….I was getting used to shivers.

Red Aviary……

My black eyes narrowed as the world became comfortably dark, save for a passing pair of headlights or the occasional streetlamp adjacent to my urban stroll.

I walked and walked and walked and walked.

And my head went through loops.

I thought….

That……

That boy……

My black eyes narrowed.

Where have I seen him before??

My feet shuffled against the sidewalk.

Passing headlights glinted off my the dark lenses of my shades.

And did I just imagine it……or……did Robin see him today as well?

My lips pursed.

This afternoon……at the press conference……

A beat.

I saw a crack in the pavement. A familiar crack.

Then a familiar smell.

"………"

I slowly looked up.

My gaze narrowed.

A black marquis. White plastic letters. A sheet of glass.

A funeral home.

I took a deep breath.

Not just a funeral home……THE funeral home.

I stood there silently with my hands in my pockets. Gazing at the front of the old building. Its brickwork foundation haunting me. The thin alleyway to the rear parking inlet yawning a few steps away.

"…………"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"……………"

I stood in my dark and ornate suit, holding the door open. I smiled subtly, sympathetically as I waited for the old couple to shuffle their way slowly inside the parlor. They were silent and sluggish in their movement…as if they half wanted to be there. I almost questioned their admiration for the body being laid to rest…but didn't comment on it.

Not like I could.

Once they were entered, I gazed out momentarily at the bright sky of a gradually-warming April above the City skyline. I took a deep breath and—like a good little usher—wandered inside after the last of the attendees to oversee the service.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Henry Lyons. Born on January 2, 1930. Died on April 6, 2004. Father of three. Grandfather to nearly a dozen. Catholic. A veteran. An all-around American.

There were a lot of old people that day. It always felt……twice as peaceful when an old person only has old people to attend his open-casket showing. Death is surrounded by the walking-dead……to put it roughly. The faces in the pews are almost twice as wrinkled as the one lying before them. And I learned from my life as an usher that death is a very relative—and close thing. Yesterday is merely a the tip of my tongue……the edge of my toenails.

I appreciated meditation a hell of a lot more each day.

But there was one 'young' person there.

Sylvia Lyons. Age twenty-nine. Daughter of Henry and his second wife. And supposedly the heir to his lifelong fortune because of wyrd family rearrangement stuff. This was no Brewster's Millions situation by any means……but Sylvia did have a prospect of enjoying quite the lucrative bonus of the bloodline. But she appeared to be a modest rumor, and many of those in attendance of the service gossiped about her philanthropist ideas with the funds.

But what was I to know? I was just an usher. A mute usher with ears……

I'm always on the receiving half of the globe.

The service was already halfway over. The doors to the inner parlor were shut. My elderly co-workers Bartholomew and Ariel were seeing to the proceedings inside. I stood 'on guard' outside as it were, boredly giving the guestbook a look-through once or twice. Counting those who had attended and comparing it to the invites. I leaned my chin boredly on my hand while listening to Sylvia's eulogy.

"My father never told me much about his days in Korea……only that if it weren't for the Hell that he went through, he would never have met my mother. And though the two wouldn't marry until their reunion fifteen years later……I am forever glad for it. Because otherwise I would never have been given the chance to walk this world and be honored with my father's wisdom and patience and admiration for all people good and giving."

I couldn't help but smile to myself. After many a service ushered, I grew a knack for interpreting the eulogies I heard for earnesty and honesty.

And Sylvia had both. I didn't doubt for one second that she was going to donate the money inherited to someone or something else. Some people truly are born selfless……

"If my mother was here with me today, I knew she would be a walking fountain of tears. We all know how she couldn't resist a good sob story every now and then—"

Chuckles. The lasting bells of the elderly.

"—but she is in a place where there'll never have to worry about sorrow ever again. And now my father is there for her to teach what endless joy and happiness really feels like."

I took a deep breath and gently closed the sign-in book.

There is no sorrow in oblivion……

Just then, the door to the funeral home opened. Fiercely.

I glanced up. I blinked under my shades.

In walked a scraggly looking young man with black, spiky hair, a super-tight black tank top, and grimy black jeans with chains hanging off the 'belt'. His eyes were hideously lined with dark shadow and he looked ready to bust his head through the brick wall of some pathetic bar or something.

It took a great deal of effort on my part not to sneer or chuckle at the utter patheticness of it all.

Uh……no……uh uh, pal.

He approached the parlor doors.

I walked forward and held my hand up.

"Out of the way, punk," he snarled.

I kept my cool. I folded my hands, smiled, and pointed at the guestbook--

He shoved me back. "I said……move!!"

I clenched my jaw, cleared my throat, and forced another smile as I—gently—took him by the shoulder with my left, flesh arm and--

FWOOOOOSH!!! He twirled his arm free of my grasp. "This is none of your business, shades!! Rrrgh!!" he pivoted his body and kicked me hard in the gut.

WHAM!!!!

"!!!!" I flew back.

CRASH!!!!

The parlor doors exploded from my flying body.

People in the pews gasped and shot up. A few seniors nearly had a heart attack. A woman on a breathing tank coughed and wheezed.

I rolled painfully across the floor as the creep whipped out a luger from his belt.

BANG!!! BANG!!!

He fired to shots into the ceiling. Fiberglass and plastic rained down.

"Listen alive, you crusty eggs!! The rich bitch goes with me!!"

Sylvia—standing by the casket—leaned forward with her eyes squinting. "Johnny?? Johnny, is that you??"

"Damn straight, babe!! Get down here! Now!!"

Sylvia frowned. "Didn't I tell you it was over between us? Now here you are dishonoring my father! Who do you think you are??"

Cl-Click! 'Johnny' cocked his pistol and aimed it at the young woman from afar. "I'm the grim reaper today!! Now come with me!! Your head's worth more than all of these euthanasia guinea pigs combined!! You're going to earn back all the worthless months I spent trying to win your cold heart, shit-for-brains!!"

More and more attendees gasped. Others sobbed.

Sylvia raised her hands. "Okay, Johnny. Okay……," she slowly walked down the aisle from the podium and strolled towards the man in leather and denim. "Take me. Leave everyone else alone. It's just between us two, got it? I wish it wasn't……but it is……"

"Oh……you'll be wishing for a lot of things by the time the day's over, girl," Johnny winked evilly as he grabbed her forearm and yanked her towards him. "You'll be wishing for a lot."

I struggled to get up.

WHUMP!!!

The man pressed me hard against the wall with a boot beneath my chin.

"That's as far as you go, handsome."

I frowned up at him.

"J-Jordan??" Ariel and Bartholomew came running around the corner with the balding manager. "What's going on in he—EEP!!"

Johnny aimed the gun at them with one hand while grabbing ahold of Sylvia Lyons with the other. "Keep away or her head gets blown away."

I motioned emphatically for my co-workers to comply.

And they did so……even though my manager muttered all the way towards crouching on the floor with hands over his head: "Just what do you want from her?"

"Something that was due me for a long time," Johnny said as he paced himself and Sylvia out towards the entrance of the funeral home. "You got the keys to the hearse outside, old man?"

My manager's eyes bulged. "Th-The keys?" A beat. "The hearse?!"

"Eh, screw it," the man smiled with a snarl. "I'll just hotwire the sucker!! Ha ha ha!! LET'S GO!!!"

Sylvia panted as she was yanked out the door and towards the street outside.

Everyone immediately started trembling and muttering.

Bartholomew stood up and gently paced his way to the windows of the front parlor. He peered out. A beat. He looked back at the manager and shuddered: "He's doing it! He's taking her along with the hearse!"

A car engine sounded from outside, announcing the worse.

"Perfect……," the manager grumbled as she struggled to his feet. "Just perfect." A beat. A breath above the worried sobs. "Bart……go call 9-11."

"On it!"

"Ariel, check up on the guests. Make sure nobody's hurt and calm them down."

"Y-Yes, sir."

He looked my way. "Jordan?"

A beat.

"J-Jordan?"

Another beat.

His aging eyes narrowed.

I was gone.

He frowned. "Now where the Hell did he go?"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

SCREEEEECH!!!!!

The hearse screamed out into the street, forcing both a semi-truck and a service van in opposite lanes of traffic to screech to a stop.

"Ha ha ha ha!!!" Johnny shouted while driving the wheel with one hand and aiming a gun to Sylvia's neck with the other. "I've always wanted to make an exit in one of these things!!!"

Sylvia panted. "You're a psycho, Johnny. A complete psycho! I should have listened to what my brother said about you in the first place!!"

"That was before I was famous, babe!!" Johnny smiled. "Now if you play nice……you and I can get this set of wheels pawned in some place and that—combined with your fortune—could get me the oomph I need to start busting heads of people who've been really annoying me!!"

"If you think……even for a second that I'd do anything to help you after what you've done to my father—"

"You know what……why don't you just shut up, bitch?!?!" Johnny frowned. "Before I decide to make this a roadkill romance."

"…………………"

"Heheheheh……look out, everyone!! Death on wheels! Hot and on the go!! Ha ha ha ha!!!"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

VRRRRMMMM!!!!

The hearse bulleted madly down the city street below the rooftops.

FWOOOOSH!!!

On smoking feet, I ran up the brick wall of an alleyway and onto the ledge.

I squatted—clad fully in my usher's uniform—and took a deep breath.

"……………"

SWOOOOOSH!!!

I blurred forward.

I ran with smoking feet from building top to building top.

As I rushed parallel to the hearse throttling its way through traffic below, I unclipped my belt and tore it off.

I unbuttoned my dress jacket while running. I tossed it off behind me. A few seconds later, I tossed my tie off into the wind.

I hopped up onto a higher building tier, all the while pulling my long black ponytail out from the back collar of my white shirt.

Not a moment too soon, my shirt was gone too. As I ran—now shirtless—I undid the band to my ponytail, stretched it out, and fastened it around my forehead like a bandanna.

Up ahead was an intersection, and the hearse looked to be making a mad right turn. Up ahead was also the event horizon of the rooftops.

I angled my dash to the right some—panting—and reached a murking hand out towards a TV. antenna.

CLANK!!!!

I ripped off a metal 'branch' of three feet in length, twirled it like a sharp edged staff, and ran straight towards the edge of the roof just as the hearse swerved through two lights and went right.

I gritted my teeth.

You didn't sign in, you bastard.

SWOOOOOSH!!!!!

I swan-dove off the edge of the rooftop and plummeted six stories. My hair beat behind my upper body like a miniature, black cape. If flipped in mid-air, kicked my murking feet off the building side across the street, vaulted up into the air, flipped again, and landed with the smoke-encased staff stabbing deep into the back of the leather-plated hearse.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

CLANK!!!!!

The vehicle lurched.

Sylvia gasped.

Johnny lurched at the wheel.

"What the Hell??" he muttered.

CL-CLANK!!!

He glanced behind while driving at seventy-miles per hour.

"Did I forget a zombie in the back or something—"

SMASH!!!!

The glass plate behind the driver's seat shattered.

Sylvia shrieked.

Johnny all but lost control of the wheel.

"Aaack!! What the—"

A pair of smoking, ghostly arms encircled his neck from behind.

"Snkkkkttt---"

A dark head leaning forward. Black shades. Smoke dancing out from under the lenses and wisping over clenched teeth.

YANK!!!!

"Aaaugh!!" Johnny screamed in terror as he was yanked back into the coffin compartment of the hearse.

Sylvia looked at him, bug-eyed. She stared ahead.

The hearse was driving straight into a storefront.

"AAAAAAAAH!!!" she covered her face.

The same dark limbs reached past Johnny's kicking legs and gripped tightly to Sylvia's shoulders.

SWOOOOOSH!!!

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

SWOOOOSH!!!

Sylvia suddenly found herself standing on solid ground besides a cross-walk sign.

Teleported.

"Nnngh……," she dizzily slumped down with her back to a lamppost.

"…………," I stared up from where I stood next to her.

The hearse soared by itself straight into the building side.

Well……not technically 'by itself'. Johnny was still inside.

SMASH!!!!!!!!!

And Johnny's body ricocheted through the back compartment of the hearse as it came into a smashing halt into a wall of glass and granite.

CRUNNNNCH!!!

HISSSSSSssssssss………

A beat.

Crinkle! Crinkle!!

On a sea of broken glass, a dazed Johnny stumbled out.

"Nnnngh……," he moaned. "……well……I got the driving part. But I don't remember the 'drinking'."

He was belatedly aware of my figure marching towards him with the antenna branch in my grasp.

"You………," he pointed with a snarl. "Who are you—"

WHANG!!!

I slammed the staff into his ribcage.

"NNGH!!" he twitched. He tried to pull out his pistol--

SWOOOSH-CLANK!!! I spun-kick my foot into his wrist, knocking the weapon a dozen feet away. SWOOOSH-WHUMP!! I spun with another kick into his forehead.

"Augh!!" he stumbled back.

I seethed.

That's who I am.

He snarled. "NnnnnghhhAAAUG!!" he flew forward with a sudden fist to my face.

SMACK!!!

My head turned from the impact.

My shades flew off.

"………," I slowly tilted my head towards him. Glaring. Naked black eyes smoking.

Johnny's face gasped in terror. "Whoah!!"

Whoah is right.

WHACK!!!!!!

Without so much as moving my legs, I uppercutted him fiercely with the metal bar. His body flew back twelve feet from the murk-empowered blow and he landed, crashing through a newspaper stand. SMASH!!!

"Nnngh………death should have……t-taken a holiday……," he mumbled……and was out cold.

I took a deep breath.

Respect the dead before the dead loses respect for you.

I checked up on Sylvia before—CLANG!!—dropping the bar to the floor and walking away in stealth mode as sounds of police sirens emanated closer and closer to the chaotic scene.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Quite ironically, I got my paycheck the next day. When I came to collect it, the manager—of course—gave me an earful for disappearing so suddenly on him and my co-workers when the doomed hearse was stolen. And shortly thereafter, the manager caved in and blessed me for being such a fine usher and never disappointing him ever and a bunch of other stuff that I simply shrugged and smiled at before walking away with my earnings.

It was the start of a new month. And that meant 'reward night' for me. Ever since I moved into the City, it was a tough experience to earn a living. Granted, I didn't give myself much. I lived in a rathole of a room in the Norman Apartments where I survived solely on winning the trust of families throughout the compound through the works of 'black eyes'. I scrimped on funds so that I'd have enough to eat every day (or every other day). All that seemed to matter to me was being alive the next day to continue ushering or meditating in the mornings.

But at the first of each month during that lifestyle, I had a 'reward night' for myself. And I decided for the fourth night in the row to visit the Downtown Buffet. It was a fourth-story restaurant with an all-you-can-eat buffet for $11.50 an evening. Not bad……especially for a deprived twig such as myself in those days.

I ascended via stairs for the sake of exercise. I had on a pair of black work slacks and a plaid jacket I had earned at a thrift store four weeks earlier. It was the nicest 'casual wear' I had at the time. I made it in line for the restaurant……and it was there that I saw all sorts of people. The faces that I was used to on 'reward night'. True Americana, they were. Much like the kind you find at your neighborhood Wal-Mart……only I'm not ashamed to call it 'Americana'. In all of its obesity and countrified or citified slang or groups of wailing children and inefficient mothers and fathers and half-English-speaking entities all around. Half of the people smelled, half of the people smelled bad. The fact that there was a smell was what attracted me to that place. It wasn't dead and it wasn't dusty. It had life.

After twenty minutes of stomach-growling buildup, I limped through the register and chopped a limb off figuratively to pay the meal price. I had to my disposal—ever arriving fresh from the loud and clattering kitchen—huge platters full of roast beef, smoked ham, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, corns, green beans, casserole, fried chicken, steak strips, black beans and rice, and various sorts of jello and puddings and slices of delicious pie.

And what did I choose?

Salad. Caesar. Rich with carrot slicings and dressing.

I carried the tray and my plate over to a barren table miraculously placed in a remote spot far away from the rest of the loud, boisterous eatery. There was a discarded front page of the City Newspaper on the desk. I leisurely glanced at it through dark shades as I sat down.

'Johnny Rancid Kidnap Plot Stopped By Ghostly Vigilante'.

'Police and Teen Titans Still Baffled At New, Mysterious Do-Gooder'.

I smirked.

Who's Johnny Rancid?

The guy I just beat up?

Whatever……

I brushed the paper away and put down the salad.

I ate slowly…relishing in every bite. Feeling restored from something other than hastily heated, canned goods. I knew that I had plenty a plate ahead of me……but I was determined to make a night out of it. It was my 'reward night' after all.

After the first plate of salad was gone, I decided to indulge in my first luxury in months.

I pulled out of my pocket a fresh pack of cards. I ripped open the plastic sheathe, opened the box, and pulled the deck out.

Pushing my tray out of the way, I shuffled the cards expertly for a good minute and a half and then laid them out for a relaxing, brain-numbing game of solitaire.

I smiled.

I had lost the old deck I had during an impromptu midnight fight with a gang of would-be-rapists two blocks down from the Norman Apartments. What can I say? They were in my………'territory'.

So I played solitaire. So I digested Caesar salad. So I forgot about how ugly the world was.

And I smiled some more.

I was halfway through my available deck when he first dropped by. At first, he was just a short statue with a blonde head. Then, gradually, he was a close shape. Closer……closer……closer……

Finally—in the middle of twirling a seven of hearts between my fingers—I glanced up.

A boy looked at me. At standing, he was at about eye level with me sitting. An eleven year old, blonde thing……he smiled at me. A pleasant smile.

Green eyes.

"……………," I simpered. I shrugged. I went back to my game.

A minute or two passed……

The figure came closer.

I had an a four of diamonds in my hand.

A chair shuffled……suspiciously close to my lonesome table.

"………………," I looked up.

The boy was sitting down. Across from me. Barely two and a half feet away. Staring.

"………………"

"………………"

"………………"

Finally, I mouthed slowly: 'Can I help you?'

The boy slowly shook his head. He smiled at me. A calm smile. And yet……hauntingly full of a sense of 'admiration'. Idol worship? I don't know……

I took a deep, annoyed breath and tried fumingly to continue my card game.

And that's when I noticed through the peripheral of my dark vision a flurrying of fingers. A half of a sentence.

I jerked to attention. I stared at the boy intently and realized he was speaking to me……with sign language.

'---you just yesterday,' finished his sentence.

"…………," I blinked. I gently lowered my cards down and gestured back.

'What?'

He smiled gently and repeated: 'I saw you just yesterday.'

I replied: 'Saw me when?'

'In the street with Johnny Rancid.'

A beat.

I smirked.

I gestured: 'That was not me.'

The boy giggled……only, it was a giggle without a giggle. A breath without a voice. 'Sure you were not,' he hand-signed.

"…………," my black eyes narrowed and my neck craned.

I saw a scar on his little neck. A thin, diagonal wound that stretched its way up from the lower end of his throat to halfway up his larynx.

A knife wound, most likely. Someone was only half finished in slitting his throat.

Interesting………

But I shrugged it off at the time.

'I am telling you, that was not me,' I hand-signed to the……mute. 'Besides, what is it to you?'

'Curiosity,' was his reply.

"…………"

He suddenly held a hand over his mouth in a silent gasp. 'I am sorry. Were you eating?'

I looked at my empty plate of salad. I looked at my card game. I looked at the blonde kid.

'Yes. I was.'

'I see. In that case……,' and the eleven year old got up and walked away.

I took a deep breath.

Finally alone.

I returned to my cards.

Gathering the strength to smile again.

Until……

The chair scooted out and in again. The familiar blonde shape……

I looked across the table.

The boy sat down with a plate of sliced peaches, fruit salad, and crackers.

'I think I will eat with you so that you will not be alone,' he cutely hand-signed with a beautiful smile.

"……………," I glared at him.

He ate.

"……………"

He ate.

"……………"

He ate.

"……………," I leaned back with a sigh and folded my arms. I found myself staring at him more intently. The way his blonde hair was short and had that typical……I dunno……'greased cliff hair' thing which seems so popular among kids nowadays. He was a small thing……even for his age, which I again judged was around eleven or twelve. There was something undeniably……harmless and innocent and warm about him. Suddenly I couldn't help but wonder—

'Where are your parents, kid?'

He finished eating a spoon full of grape, watermelon, and raisins from his bowl. He swallowed with the aide of water, used a napkin properly, and eventually signed back: 'That is a good question. Where are your parents?'

I smirked with an eyebrow raised. 'I was asking you. Why change the subject?'

'And now I am asking you. See? Is it not simple?' And he "giggled" again.

I took a deep breath. 'You look like you could use a mother.' A beat. I added. 'Or a concussion.'

He swallowed some more and returned: 'Come on, now. You really are not that violent.'

I chuckled breathily. 'Oh, I can be really violent. Believe me.'

He then hand-signed with startling immediacy. 'Like with Johnny Rancid?'

"………………"

He stared at me. He added: 'Or the rape gang near the Norman Apartments?'

A beat.

'Do you call that violence?' he asked. With a smile he finger-danced: 'I call that bravery.'

A beat.

My black eyes narrowed under my shades.

'Who are you?' I caved with a gesture.

He leaned back proudly from his fruit salad and replied: 'Now who is changing the subject?'

A beat.

I smiled.

I slowly stood up. I gathered my cards. I put them in my pocket. I gathered my tray.

His green eyes rounded. His fingers blurred: 'Where are you going?'

I replied: 'Someplace where nobody will…'—middle finger—'…up my evening.'

I shuffled off, my peripheral vision collecting the reflection of my shades of his hands signing: 'But I needed to ask you something—'

I left the eatery behind me in a huff.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

I took my time walking home to the Apartments that evening. I gazed around the dark streets and alleyways of my route, as if expecting to find some sort of crooks to do in for the better good of my neighboring citizens.

There were none.

And I felt obscenely disappointed.

I reached the Norman buildings. I slowly marched up the creaking, old steps. Each floor was layered with rooms full of clattering noises. Spouses yelling at each other with muffled exclamations through the walls. TV's and radios blaring. Other mysterious noises that would have haunted my dreams if I didn't know I was a swordsman who could cleave a brick wall in two.

As I came increasingly closer to my floor, things became gradually friendlier. A few straggling tenants crossed paths with me…smiling and waving with an exclamation of 'hey, black eyes!' or two. I smiled at a few of them, trying to pleasantly nod or reply with a wave of sorts.

But I felt twice as much dead that evening. Reward night had bitten me in the rear.

I reached my floor. Two kids were playing tag in the hallway. Little ones. At one point they circled around me as if I was a tree to hide behind. I chuckled breathily and made to chase one or two of them before they both ran off—giggling—towards an apartment door where their mother called for them in Spanish. She took one look at me and smiled with a curtsey, saying something I didn't understand but I assumed was mostly good.

I saluted back with a smile, sighed, and turned around to head into my room.

I ran into Molly along the way. Janice's former roommate and a single-mom.

"Jordan. Hey…," she walked towards me. "Say, the guys from downstairs—you know the Johnson brothers and Albert Veracity?"

I nodded.

"They wanted to talk to you about………uhm……some bad stuff happening a few blocks away lately," she murmured.

I raised an eyebrow.

"I can't talk too much about it right now. But people are hearing rumors. Ya know……about the street bots."

My eyes narrowed.

"They say Slade is on the rise again. His first time back since this City was taken over and stuff months ago. Everyone's afraid of what might happen if Slade's henchmen visited the apartments again……"

I nodded.

My memory wasn't bad.

"Anyways. Talk to Veracity and the Johnson's about it sometime, please? We all would l-love your protection. And……er………wh-when I say 'talk'……I didn't exactly mean-----"

I waved a friendly hand with a smile.

"Okay……uhm……cya," she waved and walked off.

I headed towards my room, my head full. I shuffled in slowly. The door could never shut tightly enough. One might consider my dwelling place vulnerable……but I didn't have much worthy of stealing. Besides…anyone within so much of a stone's throw from the Norman apartments would know that my room is the last they'd want to mess with.

After slowly bathing myself in the vast boring wasteland of my dusty abode, I shuffled with a sigh over to the bed. I bent down, slid under, and opened the wall panel where Myrkblade and its hilt were hidden. The thunder of a passing L-Train shook the building's foundations and nearby neon lights glowed annoying in through the windows. I ignored it all as I picked Myrkblade up and walked over towards the panes where a fire escape loomed.

CHIIIING!!!

I pulled Myrkblade out with one hand and produced a sandstone from a satchel with another. I encased Myrkblade in smoke and began sharpening it absent-mindedly, passing the time as I gazed out of the window towards the streets and rooftops beyond. In thought.

I exhaled through my nose. I thought of the infamous 'Slade'……a word that instilled fear into the hearts of every neighbor around me. A name that had haunted them before on various occasion. One occasion I was there to witness……when Janice's former boyfriend Ricky summoned some of Slade's minions through his own gang to launch an assault on the rooftop population of my building.

Heh……'my' building. Somehow that Freudian scared me……

I stared out the window. My black eyes braving the intermittent, neon pulses. Beyond the electric canopies, I somehow spotted it. Standing alone against the black horizon. Situated on an island in the middle of the Bay.

A huge, shimmering 'T'.

And I zoned out…………

…………until a shuffling noise alighted from the opposite side of the room behind me.

The sandstone paused.

My shoulders tensed.

……………………another shuffle.

SWOOOOSH-THWIIISH-CHTUNG!!!!!!

In a blink of an eye, I had spun and tossed the blade across the room……effectively embedding it into the wall across the way and pinning the intruding figure by his shirt.

A young, petite intruding figure with blonde hair and frightened green eyes.

"………………," I panted.

The boy from the buffet restaurant struggled. In a ridiculously futile fashion he tried yanking himself from the blade and running away……until he found himself under the dark scrutiny of my condescending gaze. He blushed, bit his lip, and looked away.

I clenched my fists. I groaned inwardly, marched over, and pulled the blade out of the wall.

YANK!!!

He slumped down—halfway sitting—and examining the fresh hole in his shirt's shoulder.

CHIIIIIING!!! I sheathed the blade. A sigh……a pause……a helpless smile. I held a hand out to him.

He simpered and took it as I raised him to his feet. His head was barely above waist level.

I slung Myrkblade and its sheathe over my shoulder and hand-signed: 'Did you follow me all the way here?'

He bashfully scratched the back of his head for a moment before replying with a finger dance: 'I guess you could say that.'

'Why?'

'Curiosity.'

I rolled my black eyes. I hand-signed: 'What part of the middle finger do you not understand?'

He frowned. 'Do not be mean. Super-heroes are not supposed to be mean.'

I felt like laughing.

He sensed it. I guess people who can't talk have a 'humor-wavelength'.

I gestured: 'I am no superhero, kid. Go home and turn on the news.'

But he smiled and hand-signed. 'I am home.'

I made a face.

He lovingly spread his arms before gesturing: 'People……people are my home.'

"……………," I blinked.

Yeah………

I walked back and sat on the window sill. 'Well, this is my home. And I did not invite you here. Now I have better things to do than waste my time exchanging fingers with long-lost jailbait like yourself. Either you get out of here or I might do something I will regret.'

'Like what?'

"………………"

'Like what??' he bravely repeated.

I scratched my head. I folded my arms. "…………" I sighed.

He 'giggled' again.

'What do you want from me?' I asked.

'Are you Noir?'

'Noir?'

'I hear people on the streets in this part of Town call the new vigilante the Black Eyes or Noir.'

I smiled.

He leaned his head to the side.

I hand-signed slowly. 'What is it to you?'

'It is a lot of things to me. I bet it is a lot of things to many people. At least, it could be.'

'What do you mean?'

He paced around my room with a happy expression, as if he was finding something absurdly beautiful about it that I couldn't.

'This place is a lot safer because of you,' he hand-signed. 'I bet.'

'Yeah. And?'

'I bet the whole City could be safer too.'

I stared at him.

A beat.

He sat on the edge of my bed.

Hey……MY bed!

I almost stood up—

But he hand-signed:

'Ever thought of being a super hero?'

I raised an eyebrow.

He hand-signed as he gazed out the window at a familiar Tower. 'Ever thought of joining the Titans?'

I couldn't help but smirk.

'I tend to think more about eating cyanide ice cream.'

He almost seemed to pout at that. But still: 'That is too bad.'

A beat.

I leaned my head to the side. 'What is your name?'

'My name?'

'Yes.'

The boy seemed to think about that for a second. Naturally, such hesitancy would make me question the person's honesty. But with him………

I felt inclined to trust……

He smiled at me. 'I know what you can call me.'

'Very well, what?'

He folded his three middle fingers under his thumb and—with pink curved outward—performed a half loop with his hand.

'J'

I nodded.

'Pleased to meet you, J. Now get the Hell out of my apartment.'

But suddenly he was yawning. And suddenly he was stretching his arms. And suddenly he was lying on my bed in a fetal position.

MY bed!!

'Hey!'

I jumped up, teeth gritting. I waved. I shook my fist. I practically performed a rain dance.

He didn't budge.

I growled mutely and hand-signed: 'Drop dead!!'

He smiled and returned: 'I do not mind if I do.' That conveyed, he turned over, snuggled against the mattress and the dusty wall, and was out like a light.

"………………," I clenched my fist……sighed……and unclenched it. I slumped back against the window sill with a hand over my face.

Why can't I smash in a cute face for once?

I had no clue how to sleep that evening.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"…………," I stared at the front of the funeral parlor for a few added minutes. I felt a shiver up my metal limb. I took a breath.

Red Aviary.

I sighed.

I turned and walked down the sidewalk under the fall of night.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"Robin!!" the voice called out for him.

The thirteen year old panted as he streaked down the rusted catwalk. A sky of crimson stretched overhead. A mud-brown sea boiled beneath him.

"I'm coming!!"

Feverish breaths.

Dark echoes.

Putrid mud leaking down the metal supports of the catwalk that groaned around him.

She was a distant speck. Black and burgundy. Being swallowed up by the brown.

"R-Run Robin!! Please!! Hurry!!"

"No!!!" he shouted. "You must run!! Get away!! Get somewhere safe!!"

"Robin!! Stay back—"

"Wait for me!! I can save you!!!" the young Hero sweat. "I can save you!!!!"

The catwalk groaned beneath him.

He nearly lost his balance.

He leaned against the side railings of the catwalk, panting for breath.

The bleeding sky boiled above him.

The lighthouse.

The beam.

Slicing.

Slicing.

The factory was falling apart.

Her speck was going with it.

"No……," he shuddered.

"Robin!!" she shrieked.

Everything fell into the putrid mud.

Disappearing.

Laughing away into oblivion.

"No!!!" he pulled at his face with black gloves.

"Run………r-run………"

And she dissolved.

And the catwalk disappeared.

And everything was red……red………red.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" the young Robin fell to his knees. He wept. He sat at the edge of the bay. Standing over the rock bluffs. Cold. Chilled to the bone. Paralyzed.

"Why didn't you run??" he shook all over. "Why didn't you r-run?"

And.

Cold.

And.

Silence.

And…

……

………

…………"Robin……"

The Boy Wonder gasped.

His eyemask twitched.

'This……This isn't the end?'

Something stabbed hard into him. Something unnatural.

'Something wrong.'

'No……something right……'

Trembling, he craned his neck.

A dark speck rose from the waters of the bay.

A gasp escaped the Boy Wonder's lips.

'This is so right.'

'And this is so wrong.'

She walked up towards him. Her black bangs drooping. Her eyes hidden.

'Robin……'

There was a green light. Warm. Inviting. Like a supernatural blanket. It melted around his shoulders, replacing his cape and uniform with emerald fury.

He throbbed all over.

His lungs were on fire.

And……

He reveled.

She walked up to him.

She walked up to him.

Her face tilted up.

Chocolate brown eyes.

Thin lips……into a smile.

Robin's face was pale. His eyemask as wide as could be allowed him. And something melted and something cried as her hands lifted up and cradled his face.

"Do you feel me, Robin?" her voice echoed the laughter of the Sun and chased the Red Sky away. "I am real……"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Robin woke up. But he didn't shoot up into a sitting position. He didn't gasp. He didn't sweat.

He simply……woke up.

Softly….as if from the gentle descent of a feather. He slowly shifted up into bed. His true eyes shadowed by the darkness as the evening entombed the world outside his room.

He took a deep breath. He brought his legs to his chest and hugged them in silence.

"…………"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Knock Knock Knock.

"………….."

Knock Knock Knock.

"Nnngh….," Starfire turned in bed that night, disturbed by the sound. Still, her slumber was pleasant—howbeit interrupted. She curled up under the pink covers of her circular, Tamaranian bed and exhaled. "Mmmmm….em'bratta slorvax de X'Hal……"

A beat.

Knock Knock Knock.

Starfire's brow furrowed. Finally she stood up, her hair a tangled facsimile of the fiery-red smoothness that it was during the day time. "Haaftu?" She blinked dazedly, cutely. "Haaftu ven saat'm?"

Knock Knock Knock.

"Ah yes….Terra Firma….affirmative," she shook her head. She slowly pushed the covers off and hovered limply towards the door. "Just a minute!" She yawned, rubbed her green eyes, and pressed the panel to her door.

Schwissh!

"H-How can I be of assistance to you, nocturnal friend of visitation?" she mumbled rather impromptu. A beat. She blinked and her thin eyes widened somewhat. "Robin! I…..I-I was not expecting you."

"………," he stood at her door with his hands hanging by his side. Fidgety. Still dressed in a white t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Is there something I can help you with at this hour?"

"………."

Starfire's eyes narrowed. "Is there…..something the matter?"

Robin bit his lip. He slowly stepped inside. Starfire watched as the Boy Wonder wandered halfway across the room, paused before the windows, falter, pause again, and drift over towards the windows….gazing out finally. Still. Contemplative. And yet…..nervous.

Starfire's face lit up in concern. "Friend…..you look….distressed…." She floated over towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "….please….tell me what ails you—"

Her sentence was cut short at the feel of his bare hand against her wrist. Slowly—Robin turned around and his hand traveled up her arm to her shoulder, up her neck, and gently cupped her cheek.

Starfire's lips parted as she felt the Boy Wonder's hands suddenly cup both sides of her face.

He leaned towards her….at a relatively safe distance. His eyemask peered into her green-on-amber visage and there was an expression on his face just short of breathless wonder as he uttered: "Warmth….."

She blinked.

"Such….s-such warmth…..," the Boy Wonder shuddered. His fingers lovingly traced the contours of her face. Gently…as if afraid to break her.

Something happened that Starfire had never seen before. A tear squeezed out from under Robin's eyemask.

"How…….how could I have f-forgotten…..?" the young man breathed.

Starfire shakingly gripped his wrists. "R-Robin??"