Puppets

Victor Van Heiring

Is Marionette good or evil? Good question…you'll have to continuing reading to find out. The real only importance I decided to give to her is the fact that she'll either help Robin or Slade. That's why I decided to blur the lines in the last chapter. I would like to thank all my faithful readers for reviewing—I hope I'm writing a good story for you. Like I said in the beginning, this is the first I've let anyone read besides Alex.

Now, onward!

PS: Liobit…you really are a wonder…

DISCLAIMER: Blah! As if…

CHAPTER TEN: Mercy

Robin had a tough head to get into. He was attached to a routine that was so flexible and hard to track, that the only thing you could be certain of was that he spent his nights researching. Otherwise he was training, hunting down bad guys, doing more research…or whatever. He could be spontaneous every then and again…

The only real other thing you could be certain of was—if his communicator wasn't working or wasn't being answered, he was with Slade.

It was 'common knowledge'.

And sometimes they hated this little bit of 'common knowledge'—or, at least, Beast Boy did when the slade-bot sent him hurtling through the air like a baseball. He collided with one of the plain walls and crashed to the floor before his vision returned. Luckily, he didn't fall down the empty elevator shaft instead…

Needless to say, when the team tried to contact Robin and ask what was taking him so long (was he lecturing the guy or what!), he didn't answer. Assuming it had something to do with Slade; they gathered together and headed toward the mall. And not only did they find trances of the madman, but they found the secret society of AF blasting the place to smithereens. The battle was quite intense.

"Dude! Do I look like a punching bag!" Beast Boy exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. Brushing himself off, he waited for the robot to advance…and watched in disappointment when it turned around and casually strolled off in the other direction.

He wasn't that bad at fighting…was he?

"Come on! I'll show you something to be afraid of." He taunted. It was then that he heard the familiar Hi-ya! of Robin somewhere behind him. Originally, he thought it was behind the wall (yeah, stupid thought) but then the echo kind of ruined that idea

So, left with only one possibility, he stepped to the edge of the elevator shaft and stared down at the dim light below. Someone—or someones—were having a little fun down there…

The other someone sounded familiar too…

-M-

OW!...Again—OW!...

"Are you stupid or something!" She shouted, adjusting what was left of her mask. "Where on my mask does it say Hit Here! You've got your head screwed on backwards. You preach one thing and do another!"

He made a face, shaking out his sore right hand. She suspected he broke it in the last punch. "You're really confusing, did you know that? Aside from Slade, you're one of the few people who actually try to connect my thoughts and actions."

"I see no connection. Your brain is dead."

He simply shook his head and started forward again with a spare bo-staff. Her blade fell when they were on the second floor, falling from her hand when he dislocated her arm with his first staff. Now she was dagger-less and whip-less and there was nothing left up her sleeves aside from…air. She was fine with fighting with her hands and feet, but he could out-do her there without any questions asked.

He definitely had the high ground.

She tried to flip backwards when he swung at her head, narrowly missing the staff as is whisp-ed just beneath her body in mid-air. Landing, however, didn't turn out quite right when he came with a follow-up kick. Ribs breaking, she bent forward into the blow and fell to her back when he hit.

Lying still on her back, she tried to breathe past the pain.

"Give up." He murmured silently. Walking toward her head, he stopped and pressed the tip of his staff to her throat. "You're through."

"I either leave you on my own." She choked. "Or you kill me."

"I already told you—I don't kill people."

"And what of your greater adversary?" In the corner of her eye, she saw something move. "I know you can't defeat him, he knows you can't defeat him, and you know you can't defeat him. If only you would kill him…"

"I told you!—"

"You said you were a hero…that you believe in what is right and wrong." She echoed quietly. "You live to save the people, don't you, because you really have no one else to live or die for. You're friends are still friends, but you trust them less then anyone, otherwise you would have revealed your face to them already. Well…your friends aren't on the line anymore—the people are, and every time you engage him in battle and fail to defeat him, one of those weak people get hurt. Someone's attacked, a building is destroyed…What poor little people…"

"I know that already…" He answered softly. "That's why I'm here."

"But you let them get hurt—over…and over…and over again…You can't defeat him now. You might not be able to defeat him for years to come…"

"I just can't give up—and I just can't give in and join him either."

"You boast about how strong you are…If you were truly that powerful, then his influence won't work, regardless of what he does to you. Why don't you prove to the people you love so much how strong you are? Why don't you prove it to him?"

He was hesitant again. She knew how it felt to be left with the thought of 'Is it right or wrong? Do I do it, or do I leave it?'

When she was a little girl, she lost her older sister, her parents and her sanity all in one foul swoop, and because kids are kids people always assume that everything a child feels or thinks is short-term. Well…it isn't. Bad memories last longer than the good ones and everything that they hate and fear will cling to their subconscious forever. That's why it's much worse to hurt a child than an adult, because they will suffer the most and the longest—like he did. He was compensating his anger and sorrow towards the loss of his parents with a hate towards the type of people that killed them.

"I don't know what you're surrogate father told you before you left." She whispered, referring to the Dark Knight of Gotham. "But you're not a kid anymore. Have a little faith in yourself."

Without word, he lifted his end of the staff and turned away. Off into the darkness, he began searching for a way out.

"You're leaving?"

"I still refuse to kill you." He answered, not bothering to stop or look at her. "You've got ten minutes to high-tail out of here. Now get, before I forget how to be merciful."

She didn't say anything. It was a wonder to watch him struggle and continue moving on anyway, much as though he taught himself to never take his own wants and needs into consideration.

For a moment there, she respected him more than Slade and Dane put together. Perhaps she was one who that was out of place. Maybe it was her job to buckle down and start "right-ing" the "wrongs".

Too late for that.

"I'll take it from here." He said from behind her as she stood, brushing off her arms, she retreated into the shadows. "You can either tag along for the rest of the ride or vanish from the city. You're choice."

"I need to see how this ends." She answered quietly, cringing from the pain in her chest. But the answer was said more to herself, because she did need to know how the epic tale ended.

Stepping backwards, she hid in a darkened corner and watched as Slade followed the boy. Robin knew he was there.

Robin knew it was too late to do anything.

-R-

He wasn't in tip-top condition anymore after the battle with Mary, but he wasn't tired enough to throw the cape in for the night. Besides, he knew something bad was going to happen at any second now. The girl would have persisted on talking more if she had to keep him there any longer.

He stopped of his own accord and turned to face his enemy. Sure enough, Slade was there, tall and menacing, hands behind his back…It became routine now to see him at the worst of times, like a bad omen before a storm. Slade was there to keep him in shape. Slade was also there to destroy him.

"What took you?"

-S-

"What took you?"

The way he acted was different—the way he spoke to him was different too. He was tired—not just physically—and depressed, and the way he stood gave a mature air to his posture. He was acting like someone who'd had the worst day of their life and truly believed that nothing else could possibly go wrong.

He was in for a surprise.

Or was he?

Slade wasn't exactly there the entire time Marionette talked (and fought) with him. The most he saw was up to the part where he pushed her over the second floor railing—a wonderful cliff-hanger as he left to prepare Dane's little surprise. After that, the first thing he returned to see was Robin arguing against killing people—"I already told you—I don't kill people."—what a weak opposition. But he was different…Obviously whatever Marionette said to him was starting to take effect.

Hopefully, it was to his advantage.

"I had other business to attend to." He finally replied. "But now I'm free to chat."

"Since when did you chat?"

He shrugged. The boy still had a sharp tongue.

"Fine." The said boy twirled his favorite weapon and waited patiently for his opponent to make the first move. "Be that way. I'm here to fight, that's all."

"Then perhaps both of us can have our way?" Slade shifted, now circling with the boy as they prepared to attack. "Fight first—then talk? You're rash, but I believe you have nothing to say against that suggestion?"

Robin growled.

"No? Good."

Then they were at each other's throats. Slade had his own staff in hand before Robin could complete the downward strike toward his head, swiping upward to catch the youth in the ribs. Winded, the teenaged hero was sent flying back and landed in a stumbled crouch before rising to his feet again. He held a hand instinctively over the broken rib in defense but lowered it almost as soon as he realized his mistake.

Never show your weakness to your enemy.

At least he wasn't as slow as before, Slade mused to himself. But, as it is for every mortal being, there's always room for improvement…

Too bad that bat had to get in the way.

-BB-

He must have been insane. The moment he heard Slade's voice, his brain flew out the window…not that he used it much, but revenge sounded like a better idea than running for help. And besides—what about that other girl? Suddenly her voice dropped and then…him.

Standing at the top of an empty elevator shaft and staring down worriedly at the near pitch-black darkness scared him half to death. How could Robin possibly see down there?

So, jumping head first (and he meant this literally) into the doom below, he morphed mid-air into a vampire bat before he could plummet into the ground. Pulling out of the risky dive, he screeched to gain his bearings and headed toward the tallest figure he picked up on his sonar.

Good grief—he was lucky Slade missed with his staff. The man nearly decapitated him.

Strange enough, it wasn't Slade that hit him. It was rock—a very large and heavy rock…

Wounded, he transformed back into his humanoid form as he hurtled through the air. Colliding with the far wall, the most he saw before the stars around his head disappeared (and his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting) was darkness. Then—

"AH!"

It was the maniac killer girl—Marionette or whatever she said her name was. She stood before Beast Boy like a disappointed mother, hands on her hips.

"Vermin? Here?" She shook her head, the corner of her lip (which he could see) curling up into a grin. She looked a tab bit scarier with a busted mask. "Perhaps I should exterminate you?"

Slade had lost interest in Beast Boy the moment Marionette shot him down with whatever it was she threw at him. The madman and his fearless leader were fighting again in the back ground, both at each other's throat…

"No…CLAY speaks of you as a youth. Therefore, you have seventy-two hours to kill me before I can kill you." She backed up a couple of steps, stretching her sore body as she watched him rise. "Come, lovely. Show me strength. Show me cunning."

He had no idea who—or what—CLAY was, but being given three days to knock her senseless before she would even 'try' to kill him…not a bad deal. Why couldn't more criminals be as insanely fair as her? Not like Mob, who liked to hypnotize the hell out of anyone and everyone.

"Ummm….I don't know about cunning…" He admitted meekly. "But strength I can do!"

And with that, he morphed into a gorilla…

-V-

That's all for now! I hope you enjoy.

Signing out,

Victor Van Heiring