Authors Notes: The story has not been published a day and I've already made alterations. Lol. It's mostly clearing up some spelling and grammar errors I didn't notice the first time around. But one thing I have cut out is a piece from the original chapter 1 as in this chapter I've expanded it to a more 'showy' detail instead of a 'telly' detail.

I've also moved some of the concepts like masking to this chapter as it was more suitable here.

Garret and Harry are original characters.

[Edit 03/February/2025] Altered Garret a little to make him more sympathetic.

Chapter Two

Mask Justice

The back of the van was dim and reeked of soil. Tools adorned the walls, some still had soil from many jobs stuck to them. Harry had left to go meet the buyer and Garret had driven halfway across town to a secluded multi-story car park with plenty of security cameras on watch.

Garret laid on the mattress and pillow he kept in the corner of the van and red his comic books by flash-light. Some might say twenty-eight was too old to read comics, but they were one of the few things that offered Garret any comfort in this uncaring world.

A cubbyhole in the corner of the van was stuffed with unopened envelopes. A lot of them read 'final notice' or 'payable immediately.' But Garret only had eyes on the strip cartoon in his hand. The adventures of Jax the rabbit. A mischievous, green rabbit similar in design to Bugs Bunny but of a more simplified design. The comic was also gory as all hell. Unlike a loony tunes cartoon where the characters were merely dazed by Bugs or Daffy Ducks antics, Jax actually hurt people and didn't much care if they died. He was an agent of chaos all of his own.

In the comic strip a rich man with a big belly, this was Max Abillion, had torn down Jax's forest in one night and turned it into a golf course. Jax's hole was now one of the golf holes and was in the process of being filled in by Max Abillion. Jax rose up out of the hole with a small clump of dirt on his head and a manic grin on his face. The only truly unrealistic thing about this was that Max would never do any of the manual labour himself. He'd leave it up to a lackey or an employee. Jax engaged the billionaire in multiple antics that saw Mr. Abillion collect bruises and black eyes.

Garret wished he could do that to rich bastards. They had so much money, while he barely had two penny's to rub together. There was apparently a lot of money in gardening, but all his customers were stolen by a larger company. All Garret wanted to do was break even. Not build record profits. The owner of 'Johnson and Johnson's gardening experts' got to live in a large house while Garret slept in his van. Nobody wanted to hire him because people gossiped, told their friends bad things, or blamed him when things went wrong.

In all honesty, he wasn't even that interested in gardening. It's just where he was told the money was and so where he'd put a lot of his time effort and energy learning it.

Now he felt cheated. Cheated by life. Cheated by college.

He put his comic down and sighed.

The sound of a shutter door slamming echoed in the multi-story carpark. That was the sound he heard time and time again. Doors slamming in his face without even a howdy-do. He was told his prices were too expensive. But Johnson and Johnson's charged the same rate. They both did the same job. So what was the problem? He was just as good a gardener and landscaper as they were. But no. Garret now had to prove himself to get the higher wage.

He banged his head against the mattress. Life was so unfair!

That's when uncle Harry had come into the picture. He'd just been released from prison and some mysterious benefactor had contacted him about the Edge City job. Who this benefactor was Harry didn't say, but being strapped for cash Harry offered him to help rob the grave.

But with the money that was promised he could start again. As long as he was careful the I.R.S. will never suspect a thing.

There was a noise at the edge of his perception. It sounded like war drums. Someone must have the TV on somewhere. He put his earphones in his ears and listened to music on his Ipod.

The warehouse where Harry was to meet his client had long shadows within during the day. At night it was practically impossible to see. The door creaked as Harry entered the warehouse. "Hello!" He called out.

A light came on illuminating a single chair with very long legs.

"Sit down." Came a thunderous voice that seemed to come from everywhere.

Harry gingerly walked towards the chair and sat in it. He nervously shuffled and looked around the shadows.

"You have it?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah." He extracted the sack from his inner coat pocket.

"Show it to me."

Harry undid the lace and pulled from it a wooden mask. He held it up and turned it in the air so the guy with the voice could get a good look at it. "Is this what you were after?"

"Put it on." Said the voice.

"Huh?"

"I said, put it on." The voice was very insistent.

Harry lowered the mask and looked into it, unsure. He looked around again. "It... it's just that... this things been sitting on a corpse since nineteen-ninety-one, I don't know if I want to..."

"Put it on, Mr. Harry Blowinski." The tone of the voice suggested there would be consequences if he didn't obey. "Or you don't get the payment."

Harry looked down into the boat shaped interior of the mask. He slowly rose it to his face. A cold chill went down his spine. He held his breath as the mask touched his face.

He opened his eyes and looked through the masks eyeholes. "Satisfied?"

"In a way." The voice said.

There came a crack and Harry felt pain shoot through his left leg. He fell to the floor yelping in pain, landing on the mask. "You bastard!"

"Where is the real mask?" The voice asked coolly.

"Get screwed! AH!" Another shot went through his other leg.

"I have so many other targets to choose from. Arms. Torso. But feet and hands are more difficult to reconstruct." He paused while Harry squirmed in pain. He rolled off the mask. It had collapsed inwards and had divided itself down the middle. "Now I'm going to ask you again. Where is the real mask?"

The wooden mask laid where Harry had left it. In a box, hidden within a secret compartment in the van. The edges of the box glowed ominously green. Emerald rays scanned across Garret as he sat with his eyes closed bobbing his feet to the tunes that were pumped into his ears.

Garret's eyes snapped open. This song really got his blood pumping. It was about attacking the rich and Garret acted out the motion of what he was going to do to some of them. He collapsed to the floor. If only he could. But he had neither the skill nor power to do anything like that.

Superman and Batman. Pah! If they really wanted to serve the people they'd stop the rich getting richer. Batman especially should go after Wayne Enterprises and it's owner Bruce Wayne. Yeah, and punch Wayne in the face. He didn't even run the company. He did nothing but collect a pay-check and squander it on cars and women. He didn't give back to his community at all. If he did then the homeless situation in Gotham would vanish overnight. Even here in Jump City Harry had driven through some very rough neighborhoods where the homeless and impoverished lived. Crime was a persistent issue, but it was all down to mere desperation surely. Those Teen Tyrants that protected the city weren't needed. Crime would simply end altogether if you just target the rich people and make them pay their taxes, and give those taxes to the poor. It was that simple. Why couldn't people see it?! Why wouldn't they demand it?! Because they were stupid, that's why!

"We could make them see it." Garret turned his head at the voice. It had no source. In fact, it sounded like it was coming from inside his own head. He settled back down to return to his music when he saw a glow appear briefly in the gap of the box the mask was hidden in.

He went over to it and opened the box. There was no glow now. He extracted the mask and turned it over in his hands. Harry said if he didn't come back in an hour to chuck this thing out into the bay. But Garret wasn't sure about that. He'd stick this thing on E-bay instead and make a bundle if it was as valuable as Harry said it was.

The mask looked Nordic in design with a metal bar running down the centre of the face. It was riveted to the wooden face. The mouth looked like it was either smiling, or grimacing depending on how you held the mask, like it was both a comedy mask and tragedy mask built into one.

An old warped mirror hung from the inside of the van. Garret looked at himself long and hard. The thin beard and unkempt hair indicated the need of a hairdresser, but even that was too expensive for him.

Garret wiped the inside of the mask with his sleeve and rose the thing to his face to see what it looked like while worn. It was barely an inch from his features when pain shot through his pours. It was like his face was being pulled on, and the mask tried to collapse in on itself to get him. It took strength to pull the thing away. He stared, bemused. Was there some chemical on the surface of this mask that reacted with his skin? Did... Did...

A golden, green shimmer went across the inside of the mask. All of Garrets anxieties drained away. Everything will be fine. Everything would be just fine. Just as long as he put this mask on.

He raised it back up to his face.

Garret snapped out of his daze when the mask jumped out of his hands at the last inch and was sticking to his face like it had tar inside it. He became aware that the thing was wriggling and writhing like it was alive. He was too surprised to react when it spread over his face and head like it was living putty. He reached up and scratched at it with his nails but his fingers couldn't get a grip. The wooden texture softened to a more rubbery feel.

"AGHHH!" The mask was contracting and crushing his head. He felt it reach into every pour. It flattened his ears and even closed over his eyes.

It sounded like a firework display had been set off inside the van. Then came a whirl of shining lights and power. The van rocked from side to side. A couple who were passing spotted the van. Looked at each other and rolled their eyes before moving on. They didn't notice when green light shot out from all the windows and green electrical sparks raked over the surface of the van. Smoke billowed out from all sides and the whirling noise died down.

Finally the van fell still.

Sitting on its own, in the middle of a well lit, white car park manic laughter sounded from the vans interior.

The back doors burst open with smoke and something darted out faster than a speeding bullet.

"Ooooh. Ahhh. So interesting." Raven shook her head as she watched the large TV screen in the towers main living area. What was on display was a recording from last Christmas that Beast Boy had made. He'd filmed everything from Cyborg opening his presents, to Starfire's cooking. There was even the Christmas fight with a mutant Christmas Tree. Beast Boy had turned the camera around to wave at the audience, then Raven had smacked him across the head to make him focus on the fight.

This was supposed to be movie night, but Beast Boy had wanted to show off his editing skills. It proved a lot to be desired. They say any skill starts at low level, but frankly even an art college would reject this project. But it kept Beast Boy quiet for a while.

"Oh yeah, I remember that punch." Cyborg cheered when he appeared on screen. "I gotcha good! Booyah!"

Starfire was happy to see herself on screen and waved at herself while her TV counterpart waved at the audience.

Next came footage of Robin training in the gym and Robin was engrossed. "My foot work is out by a few seconds." He mumbled to himself.

Frankly, Raven didn't see the point watching a home movie of something that happened merely a few months ago. It was still clear in her head, she didn't need to relive it. That Christmas had been a complete disaster. The food was awful, the music was so loud it was just noise, and Beast Boy's new found hobby made Raven want to strangle him. She regretted getting him that camera to start with.

The camera had turned to Raven, she was sitting in the corner of the table wearing a green, paper crown and red tinsel around her neck. Raven's face fell at what she was seeing. Her eyes looked up into the camera and had a 'piss off or I'll gut you' look to them. Her frown and staring eyes made her look either bored, or utterly miserable.

The camera zoomed in on her and had to refocus. "Hey, Raven. You okay?"

"I'm having a wonderful time." She'd said flatly.

Raven looked down and pulled her cloak around herself. Her hood also flew up over her head. She couldn't bear to look at herself. The thing was, she actually meant what she'd said. She had been having an absolutely wonderful time with her friends, watching them all enjoy this disaster of a Christmas. But on the surface she looked like the kind of person you wouldn't invite to the next Christmas party because her gloomy energy brought the vibe down.

Unfortunately, the surface is only what people ever see. People always want to make snap judgements about you based on your surface energy. Raven looked gloomy and depressed, so be kind and don't invite her to the next one. Then that'd leave Raven wondering what she'd done wrong to get uninvited. If she didn't meditate on it she'd only end up obsessing over it.

Thing is, its not something Raven could fix try as she might. No matter how deeply she dug into magical literature there was no spell nor curse that 'disconnected ones mind from their face.' So what was wrong with her?

She spent hours trying to work on her facial expressions in a mirror thinking it was all about practice. She tried to learn how to smile. To show concern, joy, contentment. But Raven either forgot to do it at the appropriate time, or had trouble telling if what she was pulling looked natural, or looked like a predator trying to lull prey into a false sense of security. She'd practiced on Starfire and Beast Boy, and a little on Cyborg. They all wondered if she was having a stroke.

Her face was like a dim lightbulb. Power was being sent to it, but only bits of it turned into useful light. If only it was possible to change ones face like one changes a light bulb. But then, there was the time Starfire and herself had briefly switched bodies, and still that curse had followed Raven into Starfires form. Typical. The first time Raven's face had behaved naturally and she hadn't been in the driving seat.

Raven had just resided herself to this cursed fate. She was going to be stuck this way forever and she just had to live with it.

The movie stopped and a red siren blared. The sensors in Jump City had picked up a disturbance.

Raven sighed. She really needed ten minutes of meditation right now to clear her head before heading out on a mission. But there was no time, so she'll have to make do.

She pulled her hood so far down her head that her face was masked in shadow. Her gloomy eyes gained an intense 'bitch face' look and she mentally prepared herself for battle.

The T Car rolled to a stop and the five teens exited the vehicle. They stood in a rain of what looked to be giant bits of green confetti.

Beast Boy plucked one from the sky. "What the heck happened? Was there a parade?"

Cyborg looked over his shoulder at the piece of paper. "It had to be an expensive one. Look. It's a twenty dollar bill."

"Sweet!" Beast Boy went to pocket the money but Cyborg plucked it from his hands.

"B.B." Cyborg wagged his finger at him. "We don't claim stolen property."

Beast Boys ears drooped and he grumbled. "It's only twenty dollars, sheesh!"

Further down the road were the fallen doors of Jump City national bank. The doors looked to have been blown in by a battering ram. The presence of a deposit van laying upside down with its wheels still spinning indicated that.

"My bet is Cinderblock." Beast Boy said, "This seems his style."

"Cinderblock has no use for money." Robin said, activating a flash-light and peering into the darkness.

"My money is on those Hive Five guys." Cyborg said. "Seems their style."

"It's too direct an approach for them." Robin said.

Cyborg looked around the street. "Funny how the streets clear so quickly for us."

"They know to stay outta the way, and let the professionals do our job." Beast Boy said striking a pose. Raven rolled her eyes at the display. It was more like they knew chaos was about to erupt.

Robin turned back to the team. "Raven, Beast Boy. Stay outside and keep watch, call us if you see anything unusual. Starfire and Cyborg, come with me. The perpetrator might still be in the vault."

"Oh man." Beast Boy leaned against a wall and stretched his back like a cat while Raven's eyes scanned the area like she was the Terminator. The area was quiet, real quiet. Raven wasn't bad company, as long as you didn't try to talk to her. Of all the people Beast Boy liked pairing up with Raven came a close second behind Cyborg. Cyborg was like an older brother to Beast Boy, but Raven... He didn't know what it was about her, but he felt a kinship with the strange half-demon girl. She had the vibe of a monster trying very hard to be a human being. Or a human-being, that is seen as a monster, trying to convince the world she is not the monster they see her as, if that made sense.

Beast Boy had been through something similar when he'd first discovered his ability to transform. People were frightened of him, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't convince some people that he was harmless and good.

Beast Boy leaned his head back and groaned. Raven glared at him like a co-worker might look at a lazy retail team member. If there was any trouble Raven would spot it easily and Beast Boy would instantly leap into action.

"See anything unusual?" The words had not left Beast Boys mouth when the wall behind him exploded in a shower of debris. Beast Boy was thrown into Raven's stomach and they both fell in a heap together.

A spinning tornado like thing whirled around like the Tasmanian Devil. There came a cartoonish sounding noise of a car brake and the tornado dissipated. Within was a man in a black hoodie. Barely contained under the hoodies hood was a green head the size of a beach ball with bowling ball sized red eyes and a really tiny nose. He was grinning, literally from ear to ear with jaws that contained white teeth the size of baseball cards. He hefted a large rucksack with a dollar sign on the side.

"Rejoice, for the revolution has begun!" He spoke with an unearthly echoing tone to his voice like a man from another dimension. He teeth slid over each other so his grin was lopsided, giving him a cheeky look. He wiggled his eyebrows, hefted the money bag off one shoulder and onto the next. The momentum appeared to start up another mini tornado and the big headed man zoomed off into the distance.

"That unusual enough for you?" Raven asked. Beast Boy nodded.

"I guess we all lost the bet."

Both had their communicators to their mouths in an instant.

"Found him!" They both said at the same time.

To Be Continued...

Authors notes: Who is the voice in the warehouse? Ahhh... ;)

Jax the rabbit is a reference to the Amazing Digital Circus, which one of the episodes inspired this whole story.

One of the common traits of being autistic is an inability to read faces and express your emotions through your face. It can also characterise itself as total disinterest in how you come across to other people. Often times accidentally being rude without realising it, then being deeply sorry but being unable to express it convincingly. Something that describes Ravens behaviour, beliefs and needs.

Autistic girls tend to be good at something called masking. That's when an autistic person tries to emulate a functioning face. This process can be very exhausting as it can be a game of 'What expression suits this situation, and is this too much of it?' You have to do manually what a neurotypical person can do automatically. All so you can pass as normal.

Why is Raven apparently so bad at masking? Some autistic girls and most autistic boys are bad at masking and the reasons are not fully understood. But part of the reason could be down to environment. I've always had this head-cannon that 2003 Raven's childhood on Azarath was lonely and full of mistreatment because of her heritage. So she was socially isolated and singled out. But also Raven's preference of books over TV would hinder the development of a mask as to build one you need to be able to examine faces and expressions in order to copy them. TV is a great resource for that, but with books it'll be impossible to do.

Cheers

-TimeLordParadox