Chapter Twenty-Seven: Who I Was and What I Became

The sound of ocean waves was as soft and soothing as a lullaby as Trigger sat beside Leng's grave. It was marked only by a large flat stone, bearing a simple inscription that Trigger had carved: Here lies Leng, a true friend.

"It's been nine days since you died," Trigger said, pulling his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. "I keep expecting the Titans to throw me out, but weirdly enough, they seem to like me." He looked at the stone and imagined that Leng was sitting beside him, the sunlight flashing off his glasses as they both looked out at the sea. "It's still strange to have people want me around, you know? You're the only one that ever really did..." His eyes prickled and he stared hard at the waves until the sensation was gone. "I wish I'd been able to save you," Trigger murmured.

He could almost hear Leng's voice, full of barely suppressed laughter: I guess you'll have to keep yourself out of trouble now.

"Not likely," Trigger replied with the ghost of a grin. "I'm not backing down until Slade's head comes off his shoulders and his blood drips down my sword." He knew that Leng would have frowned to hear him say this, would have advised him that murder wasn't the answer, and Trigger would have argued right back with him, protesting the case of vengeance. They would have gone back and forth until Leng would give up, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. Trigger would have asked whether Leng thought he should have become a lawyer.

Tears were sliding silently down his cheeks before he realized it, and he wiped them away on the back of his wrist. He missed Leng terribly, still blamed himself entirely for his death.

"It'll take a long time to heal," came a voice behind him.

Trigger didn't move. "It's rude to sneak up on people," he answered tonelessly.

"We've been looking everywhere for you," Raven replied, folding her legs into a sitting position though her body remained floating a few inches above the ground. "What are you doing out here?"

"Talking with Leng," Trigger replied. "It's still...it's hard to believe I won't see him again."

Raven nodded sagely. "Grief hurts," she responded, her voice surprisingly gentle. Trigger looked at her, turquoise eyes locking onto purple. "Sometimes it feels like you're burning alive and the next second it feels like you're drowning."

"And sometimes it's just the emotional equivalent of watching paint dry," Trigger added. "Why did you want to find me?"

"The team and I have something to ask you," Raven said, standing. "Come on." She turned on her heel and walked back toward Titans' Tower, leaving no room for argument.

Trigger touched Leng's headstone in a silent farewell and stood stiffly, following her. Their footsteps formed a soft, steady beat that underscored the melody of the waves as they hissed across the rocky sand of the little island that the Tower stood on.

"Any word on Slade?" Trigger asked hopefully.

"If there was, we'd all be out looking for him," Raven answered, her voice returning to its normal emotionless tones. "And like Robin promised you, you would be the first to know." She glanced over her shoulder and, had Trigger not been so certain that she had the emotional capacity of a lump of plastic, he would have sworn that he saw a glimmer of humor in her large purple eyes.

The rest of the Titans were waiting in their living room, standing in a half-circle around the couch.

"We were beginning to think that you'd run out on us," Beast Boy called with a grin.

"You could have just transformed into a dog and tracked me down," Trigger retorted. The shapeshifter's smile broadened.

"Sit," Robin invited.

"I think I'll stand," Trigger said.

Cyborg loomed toward him. "Sit, my dude."

Trigger sat.

"We've been thinking over the last few days," Robin started, gesturing to himself and the rest of the team members, "and we've come to a conclusion."

"A world record, given how long it takes you to decide on what to watch," Trigger replied, his mouth quirking.

Starfire giggled.

Robin's mouth tightened as he tried not to smile. "The point, Trigger, is that we've reached a decision that we want you to hear."

Trigger frowned. "How can I give you an answer if I don't know what the situation is?"

"We think you do," Cyborg said. He grinned.

"I think I don't," Trigger responded.

"We want you to be part of the team," Robin said.

Trigger felt like he had been hit in the face with a pole. "You...what?" His voice came out as nothing more than a whisper. "You want...me?"

All five of them—Robin, Raven, Cyborg, Starfire, and even Beast Boy—nodded firmly.

Trigger could think of nothing to say but "...Why?" He clamped his jaws together to keep himself from falling back into his usual pattern of snark and sarcasm: this was a dream, and this was a good one—he didn't want it to sour and end just yet.

"Why not?" To his astonishment, it was Beast Boy who spoke. "You're determined, you're strong, you fight for what you believe in, and hell, you're our friend."

"I put a knife in your back," Trigger said bluntly.

"Yeah, and all that's left of it is a scar," Beast Boy replied. "We've all got scars, dude; it's just a matter of how we choose to look at them. Besides," he said, dropping his voice and leaning in closer, "ladies love a guy with battle scars!"

Trigger gave a startled laugh.

Robin reached out a hand. "This is yours if you want it," he said. In his palm was a small, circular device with a T set into the cover.

"One of your communicators..." Trigger could do nothing but stare at it.

"Well?" Starfire bobbed anxiously up and down in the air, her fists pressed under her pointed chin. "Will you become part of the team?"

Trigger watched as his own arm reached out and lifted the communicator out of Robin's hand. "I'd be honored to," he said.

Starfire gave a squeal of joy and flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly before letting him go and flying a celebratory loop-the-loop.

"That's settled, then," Robin grinned, clapping Trigger on the shoulder. "Welcome to the team."

"But you might want to think about changing that uniform," Cyborg said, eyeing the brown and gray suit that Trigger wore. "Slade gave that to you..."

There was a moment of tense silence before Trigger lifted his head and looked Cyborg in the eyes. "I'm keeping it," he said firmly.

"Why?" Raven asked curiously.

"Because," Trigger said, grinning broadly and looking around at the five beautiful faces of the Titans, of his friends, of his teammates. "It's a mark of who I was and what I became."

THE END

Author's note: So ends Trigger's story. I want to thank each and every person who read this, and for the wonderful reviews that all of you have left me. I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Thank you so much.

All my love,

UndiscoveredSpecies