Got something a little exciting for y'all today… A BRIEF FLASHBACK CHAPPIE, WOO-HOOO! The little section(s) I'm including in this chapter that provide(s) a short glimpse into the past is a small token of appreciation from hearing your wonderful comments (not that every chapter I post doesn't represent the same magnitude of said appreciation, because they do [all of 'em], though this one was made a tad more special [wink-wink])- and, of course, it's also my way of letting you guys know that I am in fact listening to your comments… ;-)

So I hope I'll get to hear even more of your suggestions after this; 'cuz believe me, I do appreciate the little bits of praise I'm getting for this fan-fic (makes the writer side of me get all moony, warm and fuzzy inside, lol), BUT I DO ALSO GREATLY APPRECIATE SOME CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM AND ESPECIALLY ANY REQUESTS ON WHAT READERS MIGHT WANNA SEE! It's a part of my strong belief(s) as an aspiring writer that the door oughta swing both ways between the reader(s) and the author- whether it's for a best-selling novel (I wish [sighs dreamily]), or a simple online piece of fan fiction (gotta start somewhere, right[?])… THAT MEANS HOWEVER MUCH Y'ALL ARE WILLING TO GIVE ME, I AM CERTAINLY WILLING TO GIVE BACK AS BEST AS I CAN! :-))

… Not to mention it provides a perfect ploy to make you guys leave me more reviews (smiles mischievously). Again, I do enjoy getting likes and favorites- so please, keep 'em coming- but I'll admit I have recently become a bit of a review junkie… :'-(

Terribly addicting disease, it is.

Just terrible!

Really, it's quite traumatic.

Like those Shingles commercials, an unadulterated-kind-of-painful!

*Ring* (Answers cell phone…) Yes, this is Elien, here.

*Raven's voice*: You're a worse staller than Robin's been on occasion in these past few chapters! Get on with the story!

*Me* (Seeing a long shadowy bird claw reaching out of the phone towards my face): Okay! OKAY! Fine, I'll get on with it!

*Large scary black bird claw disappears & the phone line goes dead*

*Me* (Staring at my phone like 'WTF'!?)

… Please enjoy this new chapter, while I change my cell number… :-P

Chapter V: Keeping Score While Taking Names

Ravager POV-

I know what people see when they look at me- or rather, who they see. They don't see me for who I am, as my own individual self. No, they see a reflection (a shadow) of him… A lonely girl playing dress up in his suit… his mask… and for a time, his shoes in the old figurative term. Really, I had already expected as much. Actually, for a while I even enjoyed it, when I first started wearing the uniform.

I was Daddy's little girl.

Or at least I wanted to be… Never did earn his trust… his respect… his praise.

Then again, felt like it was all I had to hope for while growing up.

My mother wasn't exactly the best role model. She was a runner- like Cinderella, I used to think- where she'd lug me from one make-shift home to the next, leaving behind a bunch of ex's. In my little girl imagination, they were a bunch of frog princes that Mom simply kept claiming not to have been 'the right fit,' like her Cinderella role was reversed and these guys were the ones required to try something on. Luckily, I found out at what would be a less traumatizing age that what all of these supposed frog princes were really trying on was my mother, and the only thing green about said frogs was the green in their pockets- which they gave her in exchange for their 'fitting sessions'. By the time Mom and I finally settled down somewhere near Queens in New York, she did have the decency to keep a workplace with her other recent girl friends who shared similar cheap aspirations, while she and I had our own little piece of shelter at a run-down apartment building. At that point, I was close to fourteen and did whatever I could to avoid coming home- not necessarily due to being ashamed of my mother's occupation (though, I'll admit it might've played a small part), but it was mostly because of how obsessed she was over wanting to hole me up in there. And it didn't feel like she was doing so in a maternally protective sort of way, like she wanted to keep me hidden from the world's cruelties; instead, it felt like she wanted to keep me hidden from the world in general.

I found out why on the day that she actually brought a man home with her- a strange and mortally wounded man with a patch over his right eye. Mom and I never really bonded that much, ever since I learned how to basically take care of myself at a very young age (and especially after I learned how she's taken care of herself over the years). But we did gradually start patching some things up a little better while we also patched up said man, who I later discovered was indeed my father.

Long story short: I saw him as my way out of the gutter. Though Mom did care for me in her own odd way, the role(s) behind that whole maternal title never did suit her. Some people just aren't meant to be parents; and I thought since my mother was content enough where she was, perhaps my new found father could give me something different in life. I followed him, tried to please him, but no matter what I did it was never enough. And so, when my chances of earning an apprentice-ship had sailed, he ran out on me and I was completely on my own.

Looking back, I never truly had a real family. And I guess that's partially the cause of all the bitterness and rejection I felt afterwards. It seemed as though there was nothing left to hold onto, except my hate that left a heavy ache inside I couldn't get rid of.

I thought the cure to that might've been proving myself, by doing what my father couldn't- by putting an end to his adversaries, the Titans. Again lucky for me, I found out that the answer to my problems would never rely on what I do, but who I am.

I am not Daddy's little girl. Not anymore.

What I wear may show me as a part of my old man's legacy… but not his malice… his diabolical plots… and especially not his life.

My father's blood still runs through my veins, along with my mother's. The uniform I chose to keep is a reminder of that, but I've come to acknowledge my time with them as an entirely different life. After meeting the Titans and realizing I could pick my own destiny, I decided right then and there that I had the ability to pick a new life for myself- a second chance to start over.

And the day when I felt I could officially start over is a day I'll always treasure. It was a day when it seemed as though I was briefly a kid, again- and this time the whole world was like a playground… For me and the new friends I would make… and the new family I would finally have…

After all, that was the very day I met Joseph:

I'm pretty sure he's seen me, probably the same way I've seen him these past few months (after settling matters with the Titans)- which has only been in my dreams, up till now. The first time I dreamt of him, I was confused at who he was. I mean blonde hair, big green eyes, dressed oddly and playing guitar as if he were a bohemian… No one would ever guess that we were related.

Funny thing about having precognitive powers in your sleep, though: when you're sharing a dream with someone else who has his own special mental powers, you kinda feed off of what's going on in each other's mind during said dream. That's how we discovered our tie to one another. And I was hell-bent on meeting him face to face since then.

I had only recently discovered my precognitive talents and, honestly, they're really far too subtle to even brag about or have control over. As I've implied before, whenever they do occasionally occur, it only happens in my sleep; so it took some time to track my fellow mystery dreamer down, despite the help in records about him that I'd gathered from the Titans' network- considering he'd been made a recent member not too long ago.

Following the clues seen in my dreams and the little bit of information I had on him from the records, I eventually tracked him down… And that is why I am now standing here, right in front of him, seeing him in person for the first time. Aside being a tad shorter than I originally pictured, he looks exactly the same as he did in my dreams. Or would that be our dreams?

My throat's feeling kinda dry all of a sudden. What do I say to him? There are just so many things I wanna know, so many questions I wanna ask. Where can I possibly start? Should I ask about what happened to his mother, or is that subject a little too touchy to begin our conversation with? Maybe he's used to expressing feelings more physically, what with his condition and all. But would a hug be awkward, or too forward maybe?

At least he's smiling at me. That's a good sign, I guess.

What's he reaching for in one of his pockets, though? A small writing pad and a pen, eh…?

Well, I'm glad one of us remembered that I don't know much about sign language. Oh, he's giving me the paper now… I'll admit, I was afraid that this might feel strange and uncomfortable to him, seeing me in such a familiar uniform. I mean, after all, Jericho's looks- unlike mine- are a far cry from any paternal resemblance. Must take more after his mother, then. Good, I'm happy for that- pretty sure he is, too.

He's still smiling at me.

I'm smiling, too, now that I've seen what he wrote on the paper: 'It's great to finally meet you, Rose.'

Looking back at him, I know what I want to say this time: "It's great to finally meet you, too. Brother."

…

"I know you're gonna keep asking, but I'm givin' ya the damn-honest truth!"

Ravager came out of her short reverie at hearing the apprehended suspect's voice shouting through the speakers hooked to the hidden mikes inside the interrogation chamber. It almost sounded like she was standing right next to the man, but that was to be expected since the speakers were directly above where Ravager stood- in front of the four inch one-way plexi-glass window that looked into said interrogation chamber.

The darkness and soft humming of computers within the monitor room seemed to entice Ravager as well as the others around her into a pensive daze of sorts. Then again, the fluorescent lighting coming from the chamber through the plexi-glass (along with the ranting suspect's voice in the speakers) was enough of a stark contrast to keep them all awake and alert, while both teams listened to the argument between their leaders and the agitated man.

"I mean it," the guy exclaimed, shifting nervously in the chair with his wrists still cuffed to the table. "I don't know nothing about what you say you've seen. I'm just a delivery boy at best. I drive the truck, pick up the goods from one place, drive some more and smuggle those goods into another place. That's it! That's all I know- I ain't got nothing to tell ya's about any scam!"

Robin stood by one corner of the table, with Huntress at the opposite end. She leaned one hand on the edge and glared the henchman directly in the eyes. "So you mean to say that you have absolutely no idea as to why you're hauling crates of anesthetics, spices and children's snacks between here and Bludhaven?" The man glared back at Huntress and the two were momentarily locked in a stalemate, until he suddenly appeared to lose his nerve and redirected his gaze to the table's surface.

Robin, then, seized this subtle display of vulnerability by taking it as an opportunity to trick the guy through a different approach. "Even if what you tell us is true and you don't know anything about why you're smuggling this stuff, you must have at least been curious over what all of it is being used for." He walked from his spot at the corner of the table to stand on the side across from the henchman, so they would be face to face.

"Ah… I juh—just…" The man sighed aggravatingly. "Lookit, I'll admit that I've seen some shady crap in my time and that I definitely haven't dealt with cargo as strange as—" he nodded while rolling his eyes and shrugging his shoulders (like he was trying to avoid naming the smuggled items), "—yeah, the groceries your girl here just listed."

"She's not my girl," Robin replied simultaneously with Huntress, who gave the same response: "I'm not his girl." The two leaders glanced briefly at one another from the corner of their eyes. Luckily, the man couldn't tell with Robin's being covered by the mask.

Huntress noticed the suspect was now directing his attention the tension between them, showing that this new curiosity was starting to gradually make him become less intimidated.

She couldn't have that.

"You seem to like avoiding the subject of what we found in your truck, Mr. Froman." This time, Huntress leaned one hand behind said man's chair and he immediately went back to avoiding any eye contact. "First, I 'list' what exactly we found- while all you do, right then, is look away." She slowly circled around him in order to get the tell-tale sign that he was feeling intimidated once more by having her at his blind spot; sure enough, his shoulders went rigid. "And then, as you point out my list just now, you still can't look us in the eye and you don't even bother repeating the items I named."

Even standing behind him, she'd detected that the man had gulped before answering. "I don't know what you're talking about." Huntress shifted her gaze over at Robin, exchanging a look with him. One thing that had not changed between them was how they could wordlessly communicate during missions when analyzing the current situation. Robin stared back evenly, keeping a poker face, but all Huntress really needed was the subtlest nod (unnoticeable to the man he stood directly in front of, who was too focused on worrying about where she was- still in that blind spot behind the chair).

When she saw that nod, Huntress knew she'd been confirmed- after whatever Robin saw cross the man's face- that she had hit a nerve. "Oh, c'mon now, Froman…" Huntress lowered her head so that she was speaking just behind the guy's ear, knowing it could help shake him that much more by causing the skin there to crawl. "Let's not get wrapped up in this merry-go-round thing, again." The man called Froman squirmed in his seat and sniffed, as she circled back to her original spot at one corner of the table, while Robin also returned to his at the other end.

Now, Robin was the one leaning one hand on the table's edge, speaking calmly. "You don't have to tell us who did what and where," he explained. "All we want is a name." Robin was reluctant to settle with that- but from what he'd gathered, this guy honestly didn't act the part for a mobster that might know any more than what he already mentioned. Like Froman said, he was just a delivery boy at best, nothing more.

"Just a name, and then I'm done?" The man asked.

"Yeah or two, if you're feeling generous," Huntress swiftly replied in her cynical manner.

Robin leaned a bit closer into the guy's peripheral vision to get his attention. "Just. A name," he emphasized, and even though this Froman guy would never be able to notice, Huntress could tell that- despite how his face was turned toward their suspect- Robin's eyes behind the mask were really projecting another warning glare directly at her… A subtle way of reminding her not to push it, or in more basic terms, shut the hell up.

Huntress maintained her poker face, but her own eyes became two sharp glinting points that would've pierced straight through Robin's head. She knew things were different between them now and had accepted that, but a small portion of her was hoping that they had finally reached a middle ground once again, ever since he too came to the decision to step out on his own as she did. And this same small part of her was still hoping that she wasn't wrong to think so…

…

Huntress POV-

It really does bring back memories. Honestly, I'm not sure if I could say that things are any better than they were in those days. On one hand, there's a lot more freedom and convenience; on the other, however, it seems as though I traded a set of problems for another set of different ones. Still, I guess I'd prefer where I am now as opposed to where I was in Boy Blunder's world- or the old Bat's world, that is.

Some ancient legends say that before Adam met Eve, there was a Lilith- another daughter who became a creation-gone-completely-wrong and so was erased from the family tree. In a world reigned by the Dark Knight, I suppose one could say that I was this version of Lilith. Before Robin ever officially got to know Batgirl, there was just me. Then, of course when the old Bat began to see me as a bad influence, he basically alienated me and started focusing more on training Babs (not that I resent her for it, especially considering I could still take on the bat-eared red head any day).

Robin understood me, though, kept in touch whenever he wasn't under his mentor's watchful eye. Our relationship had almost naturally developed with little to no effort, mostly on the terms of being two growing teenagers who each just wanted a distraction from the scars that ran deeper than any flesh wound. Both of us saw our parents die right before our eyes… at a similar age in childhood… under somewhat similar circumstances. Certain details were different, but the pain he and I carried was equally raw. It happened in our homes- his parents' circus, my parents' estate. It was when we were young and helpless- he watched in the audience, I watched behind the closet door. Gang violence was involved- his parents fell to their deaths due to tampered equipment, mine met theirs by getting massacred point blank. We know the culprits responsible, too- he's had it out for Zucco, while I still have it out for Mandragora. That's where our similarities (and ultimately our short-lived romantic relationship) had ended.

He did have it out for Zucco, wanted that bitter-sweet taste of revenge… But not anymore. Robin decided to play it wise like his mentor and follow the code.

In my case, I've allowed only one particular exception as to when the code becomes more of an option instead of a necessity. Mandragora is that one exception.

Once Robin's mentor realized this, my one little exception along with my harsher fighting tactics made me an outcast to the Bat family.

I don't think anyone could fathom how odd it feels for me to be working with Robin, again. He and I were fairly close, once. Now, it's as though I'm in alliance to someone from the past I hardly knew rather than an ex-boyfriend I used to read like an open book.

Conversation after this reunion of ours hasn't been much of an improvement, either:

"Brings back memories already, doesn't it?" I say out loud, leaning against the outside wall of the warehouse as Robin approaches (having just finished sorting things with the local authorities). "Scouting and apprehending and taking names, while the old Bat's busy somewhere else… This time, though, we get to follow our own orders."

Robin's scowl doesn't phase. "Don't compare us to each other like that." Despite his reply, he surprisingly leans against the wall next to me, keeping the distance between us at arm's length. "We both may have gone our separate ways, but we're not the same. And I don't want you referring to our days with him, especially around my team. Those days have been over for a while now."

"Still going by the same protocol, I see." My eyes flutter closed, resting for a minute. "You may have left, but you haven't completely chucked his rule book out the window just yet." I tilt my head ever-so-slightly and peek one eye at the spikey haired know-it-all beside me. "No time to linger in the past, right Robin? He did say it was a sign of weakness- just like relationships, emotions… I'm sure breathing too loudly was somewhere on that list, too."

Before my eye closes again, I notice how Robin has now grown stiff in my periph. "That right there is one of the main reasons why we're not at all the same." He says after a beat of silence. "I respected the rules back then, unlike a certain someone."

Eyes still closed, I merely smile to myself and crack my knuckles.

"And yes," he continues. "There are several rules I haven't let go of, but some of them are what I now look to as guidelines rather than actual rules. You never had any regard for them even when you worked alongside us. You tolerated but hardly respected any of his standards, save for one you actually agreed to- at least that's what I had thought."

The smile has left my face and I sigh, exasperated. "Are we really going back to that subject again?"

"You started it," he answers bluntly.

I take a deep breath, and then open my eyes; not looking at Robin, I keep my gaze upward towards the night sky. "Look, if it's any consolation, I haven't found him yet—" I pause for a second, feeling hesitant over my next choice of words, "—but it's given me time to think about the decision I'd made the day I left."

"No, you didn't just leave." Robin quickly adds. "You completely turned your back on us. You took the ultimate code that makes a hero a hero and threatened to toss it aside. Then, you just walked away without any real explanation."

Too quick even for me to realize what I'm doing, I face him almost nose to nose, glaring. "And what made you leave, Boy Wonder? More disagreements with the old man…?" I lean in closer still, my breath on his face as I narrow my glare. "What makes you think that those disagreements were any more justified than the ones that made me leave?"

"At least my intentions weren't as dark." He counters, glaring right back at me, unphased by our close proximity. "I left to prove to myself that I could stand on my own- you left to find revenge."

My glare wavers a little, and then I quickly remind myself to keep a poker face as I lean away from him and stand up straight- still facing him, just not nearly as close. "You should know better than to think that was the only reason I left, Robin." Even I recognize the heaviness in the low steady tone I've just spoken. I clear my throat and do my best to summon back my normal voice. "And like I said before, I've had time to think about it."

"So… what?" He watches me as I return to leaning my back against the warehouse wall beside him. "You're telling me you've changed your mind?"

Instead of looking at the night sky like before, I redirect my gaze to the ground. "Not exactly," I pause a moment, trying to choose my next words carefully. "Having a team to set an example for has given me second thoughts. I may be busying myself with these missions, but I'm still looking, Robin." I turn my head to look him directly in the eye, this time. "I won't stop until I find the man who annihilated my family." With that being said, I go back to staring at the ground. "What happens when I do is still a decision I haven't made yet. I'm hoping it'll come to me when that time approaches."

There's another long pause after that and I'm thinking we've officially reached the end of this conversation. Though, as I start moving away from the wall and take the first couple of steps heading towards my teammates, I can hear his last reply- so low, I'm not quite sure if he meant for me to hear it:

"I hope you make the right decision."

I know I keep apologizing for the late entries, but it still feels like I can't say sorry enough; especially since I finished most of this chapter in a single day, but took FOREVER to fill in the rest for various ridiculous reasons…

Again, click favorite and/or follow if you enjoyed! Leave reviews and suggestions to feed and quicken the creative mojo!

School has started for a lot of us (as for me, I'm an English majoring SENIOR IN COLLEGE, BABY! WHUH-WHAAAT!), but I hope that when y'all start getting bored typing up assignments on your computers and need a little entertainment to perk ya up, you'll tune into any upcoming entries from your humble fan-fic servant, Elien for some kick-ass Titan drama. As you can probably guess from this chapter, the juiciness is just around the corner and even I can hardly wait to see what happens! ;-))

Best wishes to all of y'all who are still with me on this ride! Stay in school, don't do drugs and all that shiz… And keep your ears to the ground for me while I work on the next few chapters, which I guarantee will be an absolute doozy topped with a delicious icing of more fluffy Rob/Star moments… (Wink-wink)