It ended on a Friday.
But then everything wrong with his life had happened on a Friday. His entire family's murder. Friday. Getting beaten within an inch of death by Harvey Dent? Friday. Getting an 89% on the 4,000 word essay due for English Lit (that he only got one day to work on)? Okay, that one was on a Thursday, but his point still stands. Getting fired by Bruce? Friday. He'd get to that soon enough.But forgive him for having a pathological hate for the last day before the weekend.
And as if to add to his humiliation, it was the Joker! He'd cracked a joke about it before they got on the case, that the weekend hadn't started until at least one super criminal broke out of Arkham.
He wasn't laughing now. Part of that was due to waves of agony ripping through the entire left side of his body, originating from his shoulder. Dick had been shot.
Nothing new, except for it had been a 3 centimeters from his heart. And that he'd stopped breathing for 5.2 minutes. And of course, that he'd passed out and fallen three stories.
The other part wasn't even the physical pain. It wasn't even the bullet that shattered his heart (that had missed of course, he wouldn't be on his way to Jump City if it had made it to its destination). It was Bruce.
Apparently, Dick had been in a medically induced coma - courtesy of his favorite butler - for the past three days. When he'd finally opened his eyes, the first thing he'd seen was Bruce's ragged face. Not exactly the perfect way to greet the day. His eyes were bloodshot, face pale, and stubble kissed the man's jaw. But it was his expression that had made Dick wary.
The thirteen year old had lived with Bruce for five years now, so he knew how to analyze his guardian's characteristically inexpressive faces. This one had been different. It looked worried and relieved and regretful all at the same time. *Was the opposite of regretful, gretful?* he'd thought, brushing off the look he'd seen as his cocktail of sedatives inhibiting his deduction skills.
He never found out what the opposite of regretful was, however, because as soon as his guardian-father-figure-mentor gave him some water, Bruce got serious. Well, more than usual.
Bruce's voice started out quiet, just a murmur, and rose only just below normal speaking volume.
"I almost lost you tonight."
"But, you didn't." He'd said, not knowing where his mentor could be going with that. "I was sloppy. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"No. It won't." Bruce's voice dropped back to murmur, but Dick understood what he said after that loud and clear. He was benching Robin. Permanently.
Dick had shot up, yelled no, despite his pounding head begging him not to. Bruce had clearly meant for it to be a calm, logical talk. That wouldn't happen. It became a battle of wills, never before tested, both screaming at the top of their lungs to get their point across.
But Dick refused to let Bruce win the fight. He'd always stood down, been a good little soldier - with the exception of the Cadmus incident -, but this was too far. Robin didn't belong to Bruce! It didn't even belong to Dick! It was his mother's name for him, one Bruce had no right stripping from him. If he took it to the grave with him, so be it. He would still be his mother's Little Robin. Her Putin Prihor. It was a connection to his past.
He'd gotten angry, almost hysterical, positively indignant that Bruce would think of doing this. He thought his guardian of all people would understand the value in the name. But Bruce was only that, his guardian, not the father he'd always secretly thought of him as. And Batman only symbolized, only inspired fear.
He'd felt a needle prick his arm, and then no more.
The next time he'd woken up, he was in his own room in the Manor. His chest was heavily bandaged, restricting his motion significantly. Dick could sense no other presence in the room, and he could tell because of the lack of draft, his doors and windows were closed. He didn't dare open his eyes, for he knew Bruce must be watching through the security cameras. Instead he inconspicuously drew the extra miniature computer from underneath his pillow, and without looking, activated a looped video feed from the previous 5 minutes. When he was finished, he finally cracked open his eyes.
Dick moved quickly. He snatched a black duffel bag from his closet, and shoved some civvies and a couple of Robin suits in.He chose only that which Bruce hadn't seen him wear, probably didn't know he had, eliminating the chance of tracker. He grabbed some tech, deactivating all trails that could lead back to him. Sunglasses, energy bars, energy drinks, clothes, a LOT of extra gear. What was he forgetting? Toothbrush, duh!
As he messed with the lock on the window, he wondered who he'd tell. Definitely Roy and Donna. As far as he had heard, they were having some issues with mentors as well. But, he wouldn't tell the Team. He trusted them with his life, but it would get back to Batman somehow. Besides, they could never understand what the mantle meant. Wally might, but he would try and talk him out of it, to give Batman another chance. He NEEDED to do this. He couldn't live with a man so ignorant of the meaning of Robin.
Dick had slipped out the window, hiding in the shadows. He'd begun to second guess himself, it was the middle of winter. Where would he go, Jump City? He'd heard that was nice this time of year. But what would he do, a thirteen year old kid with five years vigilante experience? *No*, he thought. *I'm a Flying Grayson.* The mantra had kept him going, and by the time he finally looked back, Wayne Manor was out of sight.
So much for a fun weekend.
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Roy considered himself a pretty well adjusted kid.
Getting rescued from being cryogenically frozen for three year by the Justcie League? Check. Trying to maneuver with one less arm than he was used to? Been there, done that. Meeting a clone three years older than him? Why not? He thought he handled the weird looks those even weirder teens (seriously? Gills?) pretty well. But meeting a Wondergirl and Robin that weren't twelve and ten years old respectively was pretty weird. Not that Robin was much bigger than he had been. And, now that Donna was fifteen (just his age), their awkward crushes weren't so . . . Awkward.
But the way Ollie kept staring at him, made him feel even more uncomfortable than when his legal guardian gave him the talk. Everyone kept shooting him sympathetic glances. He didn't even know who half these people were. And when they looked away, ugh! As if he hadn't seen them gawking.
At least Ollie was open about it. What really unnerved him were the two redheads. The well meaning speedster nephew (Walter, or something?) was always asking him if he remembered this or that. Which, no, he didn't, now could you let him eat his chili dog in peace? He felt bad, but dealing with the hyperactive teenager took an energy he didn't have.
But the other one was flat out sad. Not pathetic or anything, he was just kind of despondent. Red Arrow. His clone. He wondered if that was his arm just glued onto another person. The thought freaked him out. But the man himself freaked him out even more. He was always either super depressed, or really angry. Was he like that? But he felt like if the guy wasn't such an a-hole, they could get along, maybe even be brothers.
Bottom line, Roy was sick of the attention, he got it enough in public (a millionaires ward missing an arm was big news). He missed the old days, just goofing off with Dick and Donna while the League went to meetings. He missed being a sidekick, a partner(1). But he probably wouldn't ever be Speedy again. Not without both arms.
So when Dick (who was practically his little brother, emphasis on little) called him, telling him to get his butt over to a specific table in a specific cafe in a specific town (Jump City), he welcomed the distraction. He nabbed the Arrow Car (because after all, a guy's got no game riding the bus), and managed to drive to Jump.
He walked into the Cafe, 'Jump's Java', and over to the table by the window, where two ebony haired teenagers sat, menus conspicuously hiding their faces. He slid onto the booth on the opposite side. As soon as his butt had finished scooting, the menus fell flat, in perfect harmony.
"Roy!" They cried in unison, but there wasn't much force behind it. Dick - or Robin now, he supposed, if the shades were any indication - was pale and shaky, a look that was really unnatural, and when he moved Roy caught a flash of heavy bandages on the thirteen year olds chest. Donna - Wondergirl - looked rattled and just plain sad. Not Red Arrow sad or anything, but dejected.
"What happened to you brats?"
They got quiet. Robin bowed his head, and Donna put her chin in her hand. "I left the Amazons. And Diana. I wasn't ... respected."
"And you, bird boy?"
"B pulled me from being Robin, after I got shot. We had a pretty big fight, and I. . .umm, bounced."
"I guess we're just a group of rejects then," Roy said offhandedly. "Why'd you call us here Rob?"
Dick perked up at this. He produced a laptop, seemingly out of nowhere, typed in a few commands, and slid the high tech computer towards him. Robin grinned. "Jump City: Home of the Jump City Jaguars, two-hundred-eighty-seven-thousand people, and an inane number of psychos. Not comparable to Gotham, but in desperate need a superhero. Preferably a team of them. And seeing as we don't have anywhere else to go..." Dick trailed off.
"I'd love to, but I can't even hold a bow anymore, much less shoot an arrow on one," Roy tried to keep his tone from being too bitter.
Donna smirked. She stood up and pointed at the window, faking surprise. "Was that the Flash?!" the Amazon screeched, effectively distracting the other patrons of the coffee shop.
Robin lifted something up. It was mechanical and silver and . . . An arm?
This might just work. Dick smirked. "Been working on this baby for a while. It'll analyze the melanin in your epidermis and replicate the tone AND it was built to imitate your specific muscular frame. Try it!" Dick kept his voice low, but his enthusiasm broke through anyway. Roy took the arm and examined it. Dick lunged over and attached it to his stub of an arm.
He yelped. That had stung, the metal had clasped his skin, and he felt something connect with broken ligaments of his arm. But, the pain was fleeting, and he had to admire the workmanship. The tiny panels on it seemed to burst into color, matching his admittedly pasty skin perfectly. It felt like a natural extension of his arm. He flexed the fingers curiously, watching in wonder as the color reached the tips of his phalanges.
"Whoa."
He looked up at the younger boy in gratitude, about to say something when the ground began to shake violently. There was a muffled thump, but still so loud Roy thought his ears would begin to bleed.
A huge - presumably - alien ship had smashed into the street just outside the coffee shop. It had absolutely demolished the building on the other side by landing on them. A foreign, lumpy figure broke through the reflective surface of the ship, headfirst as if he had been thrown. Whatever had the strength to throw something that huge. . . Well, Roy hoped the pleasure wasn't his.
They exchanged a look. Roy could just picture Dick's eyes, conveying the words 'I told you so' by rolling his blue orbs.
"Got a suit?" The youngest member of the trio asked.
"Always," the Amazon replied.
"Under my clothes." Roy said.
"Equipment?" Batman's little bird asked.
"In the Arrow Ca-" Roy was cut off as the Arrow Car bounced towards after being thrown by a new, distinctly humanoid figure, with a red light blinking under the hood it wore. The archer opened the trunk, which was sideways, like the rest of the car, snatching the familiar weapon with his unfamiliar hand. "Huh. Right here."
"Now all we need is a name," Roy added, sliding on his mask and gripping the bow. God, it felt good.
"The Titans!" Donna cried immediately, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt, revealing the silver bulletproof gauntlets, dodging flying debris.
"How about the 'Super-Asterous-Teenagers-of-Jump-City'? It has a nice ring to it," Robin suggested, somersaulting over another hurtled car, throwing an exploding disc at the oncoming figure.
"How about the 'Teen Titans'?" Roy asked, as they formed a circle, backs facing backs.
Speedy notched an arrow. Wondergirl lifted her fists. Robin gripped a bird-a-rang.
"Titans, Go!" Dick cried as they leapt into battle, testing out the cry, and as if practiced, they sprang forward, maneuvering around each other perfectly as the aliens swarmed them.
The Boy Wonder paused after landing a punch on his attacker. "Nah. I think mine was better."
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It started on a Friday.