Legal Disclaimer: If they were mine I would have so much money that my hobbies would include skiing the Alps and catamaran sailing, not writing fanfiction.
Universe: Fleshing out the cartoon canon some comic canon and some Batman and Justice League canon, too.
Timeline: Sequel to Origins,before the 1st episode (Divide and Conquer)
Summary: As Robin trains his new team they attempt to deal with both each other and their enigmatic new leader, and Robin has his own issues to work through while meeting a spunky alien girl.
Series: Part 2 of a planned series.
Pairings: none… yet
Content Disclaimer: Nothing is sacred in the DC Comics universe, because there IS NO DC Comics universe. Anything is fair game. This fic is a blender of everything that has come before, cartoon and comic, for everything DC, in order to give plausibility, coherency, continuity, and integrity to the Teen Titans cartoon show.
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.
Semisonic, Closing Time
Columbus weekend
Saturday night, 11 pm
Robin pointed down towards the street, down towards the six gang members making ready to rob a jewelry store.
"Titans, go."
The three titans took off, Raven levitating, Garfield in eagle form, and Victor jumping off the moderate two-story building, landing with ease. Robin stood on the roof and watched them go, muscles tense, a birdarang at the ready. When they reached the street they regrouped, Victor flanked by Raven and Garfield. They marched purposefully towards their destination as Robin watched, eye mask thin, anticipating, as the trio approached the jewelry store. Three of the gang members were staring into the display window, drooling, obviously high. They hadn't noticed the would-be heroes approach.
Yet.
"How many were there?" Garfield whispered.
"I counted five," Victor replied in low tones.
"I only see three."
"There were six," Raven deadpanned.
Victor cut her a sideways glance. "And how are you so sure?"
"I sensed them," Raven answered, slightly irritated. Now they were barely a half a block away. "Let's just… get this done."
"Ok dudes, what's the plan?"
"Plan?" Victor asked, surprised. "Robin didn't give us one."
"Six assailants armed with small firearms attempting to rob a stationary location," Raven parroted back to them.
Victor winced. "Oh. I guess he did."
Garfield nodded once, decisive. "Right." But then he hesitated. "So, what do we do again?"
"Nnnnngh," Raven brought a hand to her temple in irritation.
Then suddenly one of the missing gangbangers emerged from an alleyway. "Hey!" he shouted, instantly getting his buddies' attention. The three at the window whirled around and two more came out of the alley.
"Shit!" Victor exclaimed.
"I don't do that on command," Raven deadpanned.
"What now?" Gar hissed, wrong-footed for having so suddenly lost the element of surprise.
"Get lost, freaks!" A gangbanger called out.
Victor shook his head. "Can't do that."
"Yeah!" Garfield chorused, willing to follow Victor's lead.
"You're in our territory, freaks," another gangbanger spat at them. Then he aimed his pistol square at Victor's chest. His friends followed suit. "Now get lost, or get ventilated." The clicks of cocking guns and the off-switching of safeties echoed down the street.
Meanwhile, back on the rooftop: "If they don't screw up they don't learn. If they don't screw up they don't learn. If they don't screw up they don't learn…" Robin chanted to himself while shuffling three birdarangs in each hand. His grapnel hung loose and ready, just in case.
And back on the street, Victor glanced sidelong at Garfield. "I think these dawgs need a fastball special."
Garfield laughed aloud, his eyes lighting up. "DUDE!"
Then before the gangbangers could react — or Robin could groan — Garfield leapt into the air, curled into a ball, turned into a wolverine, and was bodily chucked into the three gangbangers staring wide-eyed in front of the display. Right before the moment of impact the wolverine turned into a triceratops and careened through the window, taking the gaping gangbangers with him... along with most of the building front.
"Booyah!"
Raven glanced sideways at him. "Are we supposed to destroy the building?"
Victor's face fell. "Uh… Oops?"
Just then Garfield stood back up. His human form appeared above the rubble of the display, priceless necklaces hanging off of him, four bracelets on each arm, and a tiara perched skewed atop his head.
"Look dudes, I'm Wonder Woman!"
Victor quirked an eyebrow and Raven groaned.
Back on the rooftop Robin massaged a temple. "Where's Donna when I need her?" he all but whined. At least the transmitter Victor was wearing was functioning properly, he reminded himself. That was something at least.
"SHOOT THE FREAKS!"
In all the commotion our three heroes had apparently forgotten about the other three gangbangers.
"Whu-oh!"
"Yikes!"
"Nnnnnngh."
Gunfire erupted in the street and the three heroes scattered, diving for cover.
"Raven!" Victor yelled from behind some trash cans. "It's all you girl!"
"Azarath Methrion—"
CLANG!
"Huh?"
KLING — CLANG!
The three guns were swiftly birdaranged out of the gangbangers' hands.
"Aww no fair, man!" Victor yelled up to Robin's rooftop.
"Yeah dude!" Garfield echoed. "We so totally had it covered!"
Back on the rooftop Robin grit his teeth, barely resisting the urge to smack both hands to his forehead. He settled for an exasperated sigh. "If they don't screw up… it'll be a miracle."
Suddenly the unmistakable sounds of flesh pounding flesh grabbed their attention. The three of them looked over in time to see a lone dark-clad figure—
"Hey!" Victor pointed. "Who's kicking the shit out of our badguys?"
Robin was instantly serious. "Who indeed…" And he swung in on his decel cable.
Raven and Garfield stood beside Victor as they watched the mysterious figure drop the first gangbanger with the element of surprise.
"Uh, dudes? Did Robin, like, bring in a wringer or something?"
The second fell after a few well-placed punches.
"I dunno, man." Victor gave the fight an appraising look. "But he's got some good moves."
"Uh, shouldn't we be helping?" Raven pointed out.
Just then the last remaining gangbanger managed to pull a knife. However, he barely had time to affect a scowl before Robin swung in and landed his boot to the kid's head. The gangbanger crumpled and Robin landed atop him, holding him down with one foot until he was sure the kid was unconscious.
The glare he leveled at his three 'teammates' was unmistakable.
"Yo, look, Robin," Victor began, hands raised in an unconscious gesture of passivity. "We stopped the badguys and foiled the robbery. It's all good."
Robin's eyes were thin. "No. You willfully destroyed private property and left yourselves wide open for attack. He—" Robin jammed a thumb and the dark-clad figure skulking in the shadows, "stopped the badguys." That glare was now fully leveled against the mysterious stranger.
"Yeah, dude!" Garfield piped up. "You got some killer moves — who the heck are you?"
Robin turned on Garfield. "All that jewelry had better find its way back inside the store or else you're looking at grand theft and felony B & E."
Garfield simpered and swiftly began stripping the jewelry from his person.
Then Robin turned back to the stranger. "But that's a fair question." He folded his arms and gave the shadow a scrutinizing gaze.
"We are who you think we are," said Raven, addressing the stranger. Then she muttered: "Or at least, we're trying to be."
"I thought so," the figure spoke at last in a man's voice as he finally stepped forward into the light. "Word spreads in this part a town. A bunch a teenaged freaks start bustin' up gangland robberies, could only mean one thing. The Titans're back in town." The stranger, an African-American in his early twenties, wearing black cargo pants and a black long sleeve tee under a denim vest, looked at each of them in turn. "Though aside from Robin here none of you look much like Titans."
"Pffft, that was the old team, dawg," Victor replied with a dismissing wave of a hand.
"Yeah, dude! You're looking at the new Teen Titans."
The stranger arched an eyebrow. "New Teen Titans? For real?"
"As real as it gets," Victor said with a grin.
"You still haven't answered the question," Robin reminded everyone, and not without a fair bit of Bat-flavored menace.
The stranger blinked. "Huh? Oh! Oh, right. Yeah. Sorry 'bout that. Name's Duncan. Mal Duncan."
Garfield stuck out a green hand, which Duncan accepted. "Garfield Logan, pleased to meet you."
Robin quietly groaned, closing his eyes in frustration. "Codenames," he muttered. "Why haven't they picked codenames…?" Then he proceeded to busy himself securing the unconscious criminals, seeing as he seemed to be the only one who remembered them.
Raven glanced sideways at him before returning her attentions to the stranger.
"Your sister was… attacked?"
Everybody did a double-take, Duncan more so than the others.
"How the heck did you know that?"
Raven blinked.
"Uh… Yeah. Yeah about a month ago. She was coming home from a late-nighter at the hospital when a bunch of punk bastards tried to jump her. She got home all out a breath and babblin' on about how a group of ragtag sci-fi rejects saved her life. Take that and add the weird business at the Met last month and the crazy rumors spreadin' down at the club—"
"Club?" Garfield couldn't help but ask.
"I'm an assistant manager at a dance club in Farmingdale, Gabriel's Horn."
"Cool!" Victor exclaimed.
"Yes very fascinating," Robin interrupted just a shade above condescending as he emerged from the rubble of the storefront. "But you're a long way from Farmingdale, and I doubt they teach street-fighting in management school."
"Hey, in this neighborhood you'd be surprised at what you can learn in school." Duncan held their gazes meaningfully for a second before the moment was broken. "But naw, I didn't go to management school. I just got a head for the books, ya know? Anyway I started as a bouncer — that's how I got to know most of the regulars. Well some of them still chat me up when they see me makin' the rounds. There the ones who've been talkin,' tellin' me about how all the gangs are suddenly on the lookout for a chorus of freaks who been makin' trouble all over the map. Anyway, between that and what my sister's been sayin', I figured I owed it to my personal curiosity to see if there was anything to it."
"Personal curiosity," Robin repeated, slow and toneless. "Is that why you carry mace and knuckle-dusters in your pockets?"
Everyone looked stunned, but Duncan recovered quickly. "Hey man, now you're gettin' personal."
"Dude, how'd you figure that?" Garfield asked, incredulous.
"The red welts on his right hand," Robin pointed out. "And smell the air. I doubt they were carrying it." He pointed to the three unconscious gangbangers bound together in a jump line.
"Hey you really are some sorta genius detective or something," Duncan appraised approvingly.
Robin scowled. "Don't change the subject. Were you down here looking for us, or were you looking for a fight?"
"Hey pal, you don't go lookin' for fights in this neighborhood — they find you."
Victor grimaced, a show of solidarity. "Heh, I'll bet they do."
"I think what Robin was trying to ask," said Raven, sensing the growing undercurrents of hostility and trying to smooth things over, "is if you're a career vigilante."
"Dude, is that why you were looking for us? You wanna join the titans?"
"Hey I ain't no vigilante," Duncan defended. "Just a concerned citizen out for a stroll who happened upon a spot of trouble and thought he could lend a hand, seeing as the kids in trouble just happened to fit the bill of the ones that helped my sister when she was in trouble herself."
"You're strolling pretty from Farmingdale," Robin pointed out.
Duncan matched Robin's glare.
"He's telling the truth," Raven informed them.
Robin spared a glance her way. She blinked passively at him. Belatedly Robin sighed.
"What were you doing out this far from Farmingdale at this time of night, dressed for a fight?" he asked tiredly.
"Any of you ever been to Farmingdale?" Duncan asked by way of reply. "Ain't no way I can afford to live there, not on what I make. I live near here, with my sister. I gotta take the train into the Island, which is dangerous enough in and of itself without the half-mile walk through these streets to and from the station."
"So the knuckles and the mace are for protection?"
"Hey look at my face, Boy Wonder. It's a good walk from the station on the Island to the club. You try being of minority color and take a midnight stroll through ritzy white communities, see how far you get before the cops pick you up. The mace and the knuckles mean I'll get me a lotta explainin' to do down at some precinct but a knife or a gun could get me shot by itchy-fingered white cops. So yeah, they're for protection all right. From both sides."
Robin was silent, his lips pursed into a thin line. Raven stared on while Victor looked thoughtful and Garfield studied his shoes.
"Call the cops," Robin said at last. "Then get yourself out of here and home to your sister."
"Dude," Garfield suddenly spoke. "I went through a plate glass window. Why didn't the alarms go off?"
"They cut the building's power and phone lines," Robin informed him. "That's what these three were doing in the alley," he finished, pointing to the relevant criminals.
"And let me guess," Victor added. "No one in this neighborhood calls the cops for anything."
"Bingo," Duncan concurred.
"Call them," Robin directed again. "And then get home. Let the police pin it on the 'freaks.'"
"You sure, man?" Duncan asked, suddenly personable.
Robin nodded. "There's a pay phone down the block."
Duncan hesitated briefly but then shrugged. "Hell. The boys ain't never gonna believe this." And he took off at a jog towards the phone.
"And you three." Robin's voice was suddenly ice cold, reminding them all that they were still in trouble for the way the bust went down. "The lair. Nine tomorrow."
"Same Titan time, same Titan channel," Garfield droned, affecting all the melodrama of a child just sent to his room.
Robin was not amused. "Don't be late."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Raven deadpanned, smirking only slightly. Then she spread her arms and a raven cried and the three new titans disappeared in a vortex of bird-shaped obsidian.
When they were gone Robin sighed heavily and hung his head. "None of us were ever this green," he muttered, momentarily entertaining fond thoughts of his old teammates.
When the moment passed he collected his spent birdarangs and whipped out his grappling launch, which he fired at the nearest rooftop. Someone had to make sure that the wide-opened store was safe from would-be looters until the police arrived.
The following evening
7 pm
"Dude, psych just hasn't been the same since you left," Gar said around a bite of pizza.
"Yeah," Raven agreed as she sipped her soda. "It's quieter."
Victor laughed and Gar smirked. Dick Grayson just shrugged. The four of them were sitting at Omega's eating pizza.
"And behavioral psych isn't the same without you being the class clown," he retorted, tit for tat.
"Have you caught up with the work yet?" Victor asked.
"With psych? No — Cabrini's got me writing five-page essays on every chapter I missed."
"Dude, seriously?"
Dick nodded. "I've only got two more to go," he said hopefully.
"On top of the homework you missed," Raven pointed out.
Victor winced. "Rough, man. What about that criminology class?"
"Historical overview of American criminal law," Dick supplied. "That I'm caught up with," he confessed with a mixture of relief and pride.
"More essays?" Raven asked.
Dick shook his head. "Quizzes. Incredibly nit-picky quizzes."
"Ouch," Gar proclaimed.
"Hey I'll take a quiz over an essay any day of the week," said Victor.
"So what else, dude? How's the other classes treatin' ya? How's real life been — any good parties? Gone on any dates?"
Dick was laughing half-heartedly by the end of Gar's litany of questions.
"What?" Gar asked. "Dude, we've barely seen you these past few weeks and out of all us here you consistently stand the best chance of gettin' with the ladies, so spill!"
"Speak for yourself," Victor groused, and Dick continued to laugh.
"Sorry, Gar," Dick spoke through his laughter. "I'm lucky if I can catch a few innings of the playoffs while doing homework."
"Studying not conducive to the social life?" Victor asked rather rhetorically.
"Fancy that," Raven droned, though she was smirking slightly.
"Psssh, we all know you could care less about mingling with humanity," Gar grumbled at Raven. "But some of us enjoy it, and one of that some isn't getting his due. And that's just sad, dudes."
"Gar's right," said Victor. Then to Dick, pointing: "you need to get out more."
Dick laughed uneasily. "Hey, I'm just glad I had time for pizza tonight."
"Dude, this is the first time we've had pizza together in two weeks! And it would have been three if we hadn't a kidnapped you to celebrate your succeeding on those finals. The work is killing you dude — by starvation!"
"Look, when I'm all caught up with psych, then I'll have time to hang out again."
"I'll drink to that!" Victor raised his soda.
"Here, here!" Gar chorused, raising his own and 'clinking' it with Victors.
"Save me from their inane banter," Raven added to Dick as she too raised her cup.
Dick couldn't help but smile. "Aw, guys, I'm touched," he said sarcastically, raising his glass to theirs.
"If it were me, I'd be... rather disturbed, actually," Raven informed him.
Dick smirked. "Yeah, that too." Then he slurped down what was left of his soda and glanced at his watch. "Eh, I gotta jet."
"What?"
"Already?"
"Sorry guys. Gotta meet someone."
"A lady?"
"In yer dreams, Gar," Victor negated.
"Professor?" Raven offered.
"I'll see you later," Dick called out as he left the table.
"Don't make it too much later!" Gar called after him.
Dick winked, tossed out a wave, and disappeared around the corner.
"That dude's headed for one serious burnout," Gar appraised quite seriously.
"Well, at least he's busy with his own stuff," Victor pointed out. "It ain't gonna be pretty when he's free to hang out and we all scramble to make excuses."
"I just don't get why we can't tell him the truth," Gar lamented.
"Because Robin said so," Raven reminded him.
"Yeah, well, I still think it's pretty shitty," Gar continued. "He was the first normal person to ever be my friend and the main reason I managed a B in algebra, and this is how I pay him back?"
"I know what you mean," Victor added. "He's the one who got me in on the beta test for that prototype mobile security system in my apartment and he introduced me to the local Wayne Tech biomechanical engineers so that I don't have to go all the way back to Metropolis if something happens to my systems."
"We all like Dick," Raven deadpanned, pausing just long enough for the others to shoot her a double-take. "And we all owe him a great deal."
Gar blinked. "Uh huh."
"Damn straight."
"And that's why he cannot know," Raven proclaimed. "What if word got out that a normal, non-superpowered individual was friends with the Teen Titans?"
"You mean aside from him being the most envied person on the face of the Earth?" Gar rebutted, not really serious.
"He would become a target," Raven continued as if he hadn't spoken. "We're going to be making enemies soon, enemies who will stop at nothing to bring us down. The more we distance ourselves from Dick, the safer he'll be."
"Aren't you forgetting that he's Dick Grayson," Gar argued. "Do you have any idea what would happen to whoever or whatever messed with him? There's nothing that the Wayne fortune couldn't buy if old Bruce wanted it — heck! Gotham street rumors are that he's Batman's benefactor!"
"And if you paid closer attention to the news out of Gotham," Victor interjected, "you'd see that the man's an affable if slightly air-headed billionaire playboy who throws wild money at charities and hires all the right managers to run his company sky high so that he's got the time to go trippin' all over the world and wrap his fancy sports cars around telephone poles. If the Bat really does use Wayne Tech gadgets, he's getting them from someone inside the company itself right out from under the boss man's nose."
"Moot point, dude," Gar retorted. "However you dice it, the Bat's gotta be indebted to Bruce Wayne. What do you think's gonna happen if his ward goes missing? Batman's gonna be all over it like flies to honey — and hello! Who's Robin again? He already knows that Dick's our friend. That makes Batman, Batgirl, Robin, and the new Teen Titans out after the baddie!"
"You're also forgetting who Bruce Wayne's friends are," Victor pointed out. "Remember he had that affair with Lois Lane that one time he was in Metropolis to negotiate with Luthor Corp? And who's she buddied up with?"
"Superman!" Gar exclaimed.
"Damn straight. And not only that, but when Wayne Enterprises stopped playing with Luthor they went out the west coast and started lots of joint ventures with Queen Industries, and you know who's pockets Oliver Queen's been lining."
Garfield blinked and Victor groaned in frustration.
"Green Arrow!" he exclaimed. "Don't you read the paper?"
Gar blinked again.
"Oh, never mind!"
"No wait! Dude, I remember now!" Gar declared excitedly. "I saw on Tabloid TV that Oliver Queen endorsed the Green Arrow and Speedy cuz they made the city safe for cowardly billionaires like him."
"Well did you also see that Queen kicks in funds to the Justice League every once and a while, whenever he think that humanity needs to show more appreciation instead of letting Atlanteans and Amazons foot the bill all the time."
"Dude, that's right! So—"
"So the minute Bruce gets word that something happened to Dick all he has to do is make two phone calls from the office and Superman, the Justice League, and the Bat clan — and ergo, us — are all over that badguy's ass!"
"Dick Grayson's gotta be, like, the safest dude on the planet!"
"Damn straight!"
"And are you willing to stake his life on that?" Raven spoke at last, the words quiet. Chilling.
Both Garfield and Victor looked over at her in surprise, as though they had forgotten she was there.
"Suppose it is as you've… deduced," Raven elaborated. "The combined forces of those looking for Dick could find him in a few hours of being alerted. But think of what could happen to Dick in that time. A few hours is more than enough time for a villain to make his life... most unpleasant, if not—"
"All right already!" Gar interrupted forcefully, his green skin suddenly washed out to a mottled aquamarine. "We get the picture. Enough already."
"I was merely making a point. One that had clearly eluded the two of you."
"Well we get it, alright?" Gar defended. "You don't have to go into grizzly detail about Dick winding up in pieces in the East River or nothing."
"Then you understand," Raven concluded. "Every time we associate ourselves with Dick Grayson from this moment forward… is a danger to him. He's my friend too, but if distancing myself is the only way to keep him safe then it doesn't seem like that hard a thing."
"Yeah, well, I didn't see you volunteering to stay in tonight," Gar groused as he stood from the table.
"Hey, where you going?" Victor asked him.
"Somewhere," Gar declared petulantly.
"But—"
"I'll see you later." And he stalked off, leaving Raven and Victor alone at their table for four.
Victor sighed tiredly and ran a hand over the human half of his head. "Great…" he lamented on the tails of that sigh. "Perfect. Wonderful."
"He'll be at the lair tonight," Raven reassured him.
"Yeah," Victor agreed. "This whole thing is too important to him for him not to be."
"He needs to prioritize better."
Victor sighed again. "He's oddly protective of Dick. Ever since he decided to become a hero."
Raven couldn't help the smirk. "Empowerment will do that to a person."
"Well, we've a few hours before we have to meet up again. That should give me enough time to stop by my apartment first." Victor stood from the table. "See you in a few."
Raven blinked, passively watching Victor's retreat. Finally she stood and telekinetically gathered all of their trash atop one of their trays, which she then carried to the trash.
It was dark when she left the pizza shop, the air crisp and cool and smelling of fall. She always loved this time of year — even in the muted seasons of Azarath. The changing leaves that die in a kaleidoscope of colors, leaving the trees barren as the chill of winter eventually sets in like the blanket of snow it rides in on. Fall was the gentle time, she knew, like tucking yawning children into bed by dying firelight in the exact temperature that induces contented sleep, feelings of safety and protection, of being wrapped up in loving — if imaginary — maternal arms.
Raven shivered slightly, hugging herself, watching her breath fog before her face. Yes, she thought, fall was gentle, preparing the world for winter's soft repose. The complete opposite of springtime, so like waking unnaturally to the suddenly harsh light of day, all pleasant dreams suddenly ripped away by intruding consciousness. Springtime that melts winter's protective snows and lays bare what had safely lain in hiding, exposing the carcasses of downed trees and flecks of leaves that didn't decompose, like throwing back the doors on all the skeletons in the closet. It's the harshness of spring that jars the world to activity, allowing it to maintain the fevered pitch of summer that dogs the Earth relentlessly until the chill of fall slows everything down again nto the gentle time, and allows the leaves to turn.
"Winter kept us warm," she murmured softly, quoting. "Covering Earth in forgetful snow." Then she dropped her arms and inhaled deeply. The scent of decay wasn't yet in the air, but soft anticipation was. Then suddenly her muted expression tipped upwards in a smirk. "And I will show you something different from either your shadow at morning striding behind you or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust."
The smirk danced, self-satisfied, as she contemplated the slight staleness in the air. For Raven, fall wasn't about change. That was what spring was for. No, fall was about endings, endings as real and tangible as the stopping point of a circle. And fall was about preparations, the way nature prepared for the snow without planning for all the flooding when it inevitably melts. The seasons are circular while time is not. Raven knew this perhaps the best of anyone. Time, being linear, has a beginning. And as such, it also has an end. Raven knew that better than anyone, too. But for now, she can ignore it, the way the cascade of changing seasons ignores the constant march of time.
"Is this what you meant, Azar, when you said that time was paradox?"
A cold, empty gust of wind was the only reply.
Raven sighed and began the walk back to campus. She needed a few moments meditation before she'd be fit to rendezvous with her teammates again.
Poetry credits: Raven quotes form The Wasteland, I. The Burial of the Dead by T.S. Elliot.