Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Heroes ❯ Five Little Monkeys ( Chapter 6 )

Blowfish: Hey, everybody! You're probably still rather prepared to kill me, as it has been ANOTHER update after a month. Ah, well, school's still a bitch. Blame the educational system! Jk, it's totally my fault. However, I'll probably be a bit quicker with the next update or two, as I've been getting loads and loads of ideas. Expect lots more action and plot thickening in coming chapters. Anyway, I got reviews! I love you guys. I would still write this little piece of crap if no one reviewed it, but reviews are so nice and encouraging!

 

RockPunx: Cookies AND pizza?! (drool) Here's your update!

 

ninmenju-shin: Nah, it ain't Peter Parker (but you still get brownie points for a good guess). RaeBB tastes like chicken? Hmm…I always thought it had more of a tangy flavor… RobStar fluff is like chocolate-chocolate chip cookies: Overly sweet, yet strangely satisfying. I don't have the SP2 soundtrack (maybe I should get it), but that song sounds cool. And as for your RaeBB prediction, you are PAINFULLY on target. Half of that is practically word for word of what I'm going to make him say. You're good. Hope you like this chap, it's got some serious action. Don't worry, I like long reviews; they have so much more to respond to! (And no, I've never seen the rose thing before. I'm so deprived. )

 

Eilian Rhoss: I'm glad you liked it. Sorry this took so long to put up, I hope you like it as much as the last one.

 

Grumbumble: Yes, it was quite painful (scratches fractured tibia). Ack, you guys are vicious. I see what you mean about the food thing—then again, I'm pretty sure two-thirds of this site is made up of teenage girls. We just can't NOT talk about food. Glad you liked the RobStar fluff, because there'll be more than enough in their date (next chap; sorry guys). I was wondering how many people would pick up on Vic and Sarah…or rather what will be going on. I'm glad you like “AoTT” so much (I'll get the next chap together as soon as possible).

 

YOU WANT TO READ BLOWFISH'S OTHER TEEN TITANS FIC. YOU WANT TO READ BLOWFISH'S OTHER TEEN TITANS FIC. YOU WANT TO READ BLOWFISH'S OTHER TEEN TITANS FIC. YOU WANT TO—

 

Chimpy: …Are you sending subliminal messages?

 

THIS IS NOT A SUBLIMINAL MESSAGE. BUT IF IT WAS, IT WOULD BE TELLING YOU TO CLICK ON BLOWFISH'S PROFILE. CLICK IT. CLICK IT. CLICK IT. CLICK—

 

Chimpy: Stop it!

 

SORRY.

 

Broken-Mask: Ladies and gentlemen, may I present: OUR FIRST WINNER! YAY! For knowing those useless tidbits of information, you get lots of cookies!!! The “Pete” line was a quote from Fairly Odd Parents, and Sarah is from the comics! (Note: If anyone can tell me what link Sarah had to Vic/Cyborg in the comics, they will receive an INSANE amount of cookies.) Thanks, I love to know people like my work.

 

Exiled-Knight: I will NOT forsake this story. Definitely not. Besides, if I did, I would leave you guys a notice or something. I'm glad you liked the “shadow-bird” parts, those were the parts I was really hoping you'd all notice, as it's starting to slowly bring the whole thing into one storyline—or at least that's my intention. Hope you like this chap.

 

WolfosTerrence: Heh, that was probably my fav line too.

 

The Gemini Sage: Checked out your C2, it was cool. Do you take songfics, cuz I just posted one. Ooh, you're probably pissed at me for taking a long time, aren't you? TT; Don't be too mad, though. Yeah, the dating thing will rear its ugly head in this chap quite a bit with our poor little Terry. Mwhahahahahahahaha. Glad the fluffiness didn't annoy you (I've always loved fluff, but some people just hate it; go figure). Don't worry, major BBRae-ness on the way!

 

Jays Arravan: I'm glad you like it. There will be quite a bit of BBRae drama coming, so I think you'll be happy.

 

Buhnana munkey: Huh. I didn't notice that word-spacing thing. I'll have to write that down so I don't forget to fix that. (Must've been some damn glitch in the spell-check; Word can be so annoying sometimes.) If you've seen Napoleon Dynamite yet, tell me if it was good, because I was thinking of going to see it.

 

Taiba: O_O; Wow, this was a while ago, huh? Guess I won't be getting any honorable mentions, eh? Ah well, no biggie.

 

fierytopaz: OUR SECOND WINNER! You get a cookie for the “Pete” line! I know what you mean about going all crazy with excitement; I do that when watching a good TT ep, actually. I'm glad you liked Raven's ordeal from chapter 4, it was meant to be like that. I thought Raven being locked away in Rae's head was just the creepy element I needed to make it that way. And no, the Titans aren't going to shirk their heroic duties while I'm around! I'm REALLY glad this is on your top 5, that means a lot to me.

 

Kit Kat: You do actually give me a lot of ideas with your reviews, and it really helps when I can't come up with any. Thanks for the candy! (gobbles down candy) We will be seeing more of Bryan and Sarah, that you can be sure of. Raven's gonna kick some serious ass in this chap. And Jerome is going to have quite the influence on Terry, as you'll soon find out. He won't go punk, but you're headed in the right direction. EXILED-KNIGHT TOOK ALL THE CANDY?! I'LL KEEEEEL HER!

 

Exiled-Knight: Damn you, Kit Kat!

 

Kit Kat: MWAHAHAHAHA!!!

 

Chimpy: …Oooookaaaay…

 

Blowfish: Uh, yeah. Anyway…

 

Disclaimer: You know the drill by now. I don't own Teen Titans. (Insert silly “but if I did” phrase here; the author's too lazy today.)

 

“talking” `thinking' flashback

 

Blowfish: Here it is! Chapter six of “Heroes”!

 

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Tyrone and Lars were heading down the street. If anyone had noticed them, they would have noticed the fact that both of the teens were dirty and unkempt, and neither looked like they had been eating a lot lately. Lars was muscular but thin, and Tyrone was tall and lanky. However, if a kind, caring bystander had it in them to ask if they were okay, the boys would have probably made a rather rude gesture involving their finger.

 

Everyone in the neighborhood knew this, so they simply stayed out of their way. Neither of them was particularly strong or violent, but they were involved with some bad people. People that nobody wanted to mess with. So, nobody interrupted Tyrone and Lars's stroll. Lars looked a bit pale.

 

“So, this stuff is good, right?” he asked his companion.

 

“You bet, man,” Tyrone said. “You're on a cloud for most of the day. It's like crack on well…crack.”

 

Lars nodded. “Cool. That other stuff was kinda weak, ya know? Wore off after an hour.”

 

“This stuff's different. New to the market, I heard.”

“And Geppetto sells it?”

 

“Heh, you know old Gepp. Pulls all sorts of strings to keep his customers happy. That's where he got his name.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

Tyrone's gaze landed on his depressed friend. “Yo, you crashin' at my pad tonight?”

 

“Pssh. Like I've got anywhere else to be.”

 

“Ma asked, so she'd know to pull up the couch.”

 

Lars smiled. “Thanks, Ty. You're ma's real good, man.”

 

“Yeah…maybe too good for me.”

 

“Aww, are my favorite boys feeling down in the dumps tonight?”

 

Lars and Ty snapped around to meet their dealer, Geppetto. He was a young man with way too much stubble, and he was always clicking that damn lighter of his. The boys were momentarily spooked, but Ty rebounded quickly.

 

“'Sup, Gepp?”

 

“Eh, the usual.”

 

“Got the goods?”

 

“That depends. Got the green?” he chuckled. Ty and Lars scowled and emptied their pockets. Geppetto surveyed the contents with displeasure. “Things keep like this, boys, you're gonna owe me. Big time.”

 

“Just hand it over.”

Geppetto pulled out a bag of strange-looking powder. Lars grinned and reached for it.

 

“I hear that stuff's bad for your health.”

 

Geppetto spun on his heels and pulled out a .38. There was no one there. Was he hearing things? He glanced back at his customers. They looked as if they were ready to soil their boxers. They must've heard it too. `Then again, maybe we're all high…' he thought, pocketing his gun.

 

“If only.”

 

Now Geppetto was scared. That had been what he had been thinking, hadn't it? “Who's there?!” he yelled.

 

The ground a few feet away, the ground had turned the color of pitch. It bulged, then rose and took the form of a huge, black bird. Geppetto shot off several bullets, but they went straight through his target. Lars and Ty were no longer scared, but in a state of paralyzing terror. They were cemented to the spot, it seemed, unable to run.

 

The bird twisted and shuddered, and then turned blue. A beak became a hood, wings became a billowing cloak, and talons shrunk and shriveled into hands. Beneath the hood appeared a pair of deep blue eyes, followed by a grinning face. The being put its face close to Geppetto's.

 

“Boo.”

 

“AAAAHHHHH!!!” he shrieked.

 

“You've been a bad man, Charlie,” it chuckled. “Come. Your fellow criminals are waiting eagerly. Your friends can't wait to see you again.”

 

“W-what are you talking about? How do you know my name? Where is everybody waiting?”

 

“I know the names of all who wrong others,” it said. “And your friends are waiting where all evil people go. Remember where you sent them when you were cornered.”

 

Charlie was shocked. How could this thing know…

 

“Shit! Cops!” Charlie, AKA “Geppetto” yelled His friend, “Octopus” turned to the other dealers present.

 

“Someone ratted us out,” he whispered. The other dealers began to eye one another.

 

“Hey!” one of them yelled. “I bet it was the new guy!” He pointed to a young man who had recently joined the drug ring. His eyes widened.

 

“No…I wouldn't…c'mon, Ock, tell `em. I wouldn't rat you guys out!” Octopus looked at him in disgust, and nodded to Geppetto. Two seconds later, the new guy had a bullet in his brain.

 

“Wait a sec…” one of the others said. “Gepp went out earlier today.” Everyone turned to look at Geppetto, and began advancing.

 

“You bastard!” he yelled, shooting his accuser. The others were stunned, and this time ran towards him. He shot all of them. He was in a state of pure panic. He even shot Octopus. “ROT IN HELL!” he screamed. “ALL OF YOU, ROT IN HELL!”

 

He was completely convinced now: Satan must have sent one of his servants to take him to Hell. `Oh God…'

 

“Yeah, you'd better start praying,” the being said. “Because you've got a lot to own up to, Charlie.”

 

Charlie dropped to his knees. “I'll do anything! I'll help old ladies across the street for the rest of my life, for Christ's sake, just don't take me!”

 

Its eyes remained expressionless. “Do you know what's on 5th Avenue, Charlie?” Charlie paused, looking through his mental map of the city. 5th Avenue…the baker's, the bar that served really good schnapps, and…

 

“The police station?” he supplied weakly.

 

“Yes. Go there. Tell them everything. Now.”

 

He nodded, and then ran as fast as he could towards the bus station. He needed to get to 5th Avenue as quickly as possible. The cloaked figure sighed and turned to the boys. This time, they had wet themselves.

 

“Go home,” it said, picking up the plastic bag of powder. “I never want to see you within fifty feet of this stuff again.” They nodded, and ran away. The being pocketed the bag. It would go in the furnace later.

 

“Well, nice job Raven,” she muttered. “Along with practically threatening eternal damnation, you made a couple of teenagers piss their pants.” She sighed and rose off the ground, flying over the district.

 

`Twelve muggers, three dealers,' she thought. It had been quite a productive night. She hated being the bad good guy (if that made any sense), but crime had gone down a lot lately. Perhaps word had gotten around that this new vigilante would not be messed with. That was what she had been aiming for. She checked her watch. Quarter to eleven on a Thursday night. She yawned. She was seriously tired. Her apartment building came into view.

 

Raven landed on her window sill and used her powers to unlock it. She stepped inside and yawned again. She unlatched her cloak and got out of her leotard in order to slip into her sweats. She flopped down on her bed and found herself wide awake despite her exhaustion. `Heh, Robin and I always were the insomniacs,' she thought.

 

She knew that that wasn't the only thing keeping her up, though. She had resolved earlier that night (after seeing a news report about the crime rates) that she would take to the streets by day. A big step, but it was one she was all too willing to take. She didn't mind cleaning up the scum at night, but the cops needed more help—whether they wanted it or not. She was starting her day patrols tomorrow, and she was quite tense.

 

`I can do it,' she thought. `I will do it.'

 

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`Cause the remedy

 

Is the experience

 

It is a dangerous liaison

 

It's the comedy

 

That is serious

 

This is a strange enough new play on words

 

It's the—

 

Terry's CD player beeped and died. `Damn thing's outta batteries,' he thought. The Friday morning sun beamed down on him as he walked down the street. While walking down Carmen Ave. and he stopped by the jewelry store and looked in the window, where he saw a very handsome, well-dressed boy staring back at him. He grinned at the fact that none of his friends would have known.

 

That boy was him.

 

Jerome had gotten Sharon, a girl in another dorm, to give Terry a full makeover. His hair no longer stuck out everywhere, but had been gelled into submission. He had also finally fixed his glasses so they weren't crooked anymore, and Jerome and Sharon had chipped in to buy him sunglasses that clipped onto them. He had also donned a pair of fashionable gray slacks, a baby blue shirt, and to top it all off, a leather jacket.

 

`Man, I am a STUD!'

 

Jerome had also gave him a newfound confidence in his flirting abilities. With Jerome's help, he would get Karen on a date in no time. She would be stunned by his charisma and would certainly fall for him. `Ahh, I can see it now…'

 

“Oh Terry, I had no idea you were so FINE!” Karen exclaimed, jumping into his arms. “You're so strong, and handsome, and manly!” she sighed dreamily. “I know I never said it before, but I love you! I have always loved you! I've been waiting for a kind, understanding man like you my whole life! I need you like the dawn needs the sun; oh Terry, would you accept me as your dearly beloved, your angel?”

 

Terry grinned. “Of course, baby! You know I would never turn you down.”

 

`That's how it's gonna be…oh yeah…'

 

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

 

Terry was ripped from his fantasy by three gunshots and the sound of breaking glass. `What the hell?!' he thought. He was panicking now. Shattered glass lay all around him. Then it hit him.

 

`You fucking IDIOT, you're in front of the jewelry store!'

 

“FREEZE, SKINNY BOY!” a man shouted. He and his companions were wearing ski masks and carrying assorted guns. People were screaming and running everywhere, but Terry could only stay frozen, as commanded. “EVERYBODY ON THE GROUND, AND NO ONE GETS HURT!” the leader yelled. Everyone just kept running around. The man was getting very agitated.

 

BLAM!

 

Everything was still. The people, the birds, the cars; not even the wind disturbed the silence. The gun had been shot into the air, but it had sufficiently frightened everyone enough to stop them in their tracks.

 

“Now,” the man said in a sinisterly pleasant tone. “I'm going into that store with my buddy over here.” He gestured to one of the other men. “The rest of the fellas are gonna stay and keep you nice folks company. And here's an idea: Let's play a game. Whoever stays still doesn't die. That sound fun?”

 

No one budged.

 

“Good! I can see you're already getting a head start.” With that, the two robbers disappeared into the store. Terry was sitting on the ground now, trying to keep his body from shaking. He could only think of all of the things he would miss if he died now: He would never have a date with Karen, he would never get a chance to tell Rae how much of a friend she had been to him, or get his chance to spit in Warren Connery's face, or get to drink, or grow old, or have kids, or—

 

“What the hell?!”

 

Terry's head turned to the source of the cry. The robbers were backing up from a huge shadow-bird that was emerging from the ground. Their bullets were absorbed harmlessly into the great ebony beast. It rose into the air and spun around and around; then something came out of one of its talons.

 

A boot.

 

It collided with the face of one of the men, sending him flying into another robber. The bird landed on the ground—no longer a bird, but a female form. She straightened up to her full height, which was quite pathetic compared to some of her opponents. A grin was visible beneath her hood. She said nothing, but put up her hand, waving all of her fingers toward herself—a gesture that, in this situation, could only mean one thing.

 

Bring it on.

 

The thugs charged, throwing down their guns in favor of fists. The woman rose her hand, which was glowing with black energy. Two of the men were engulfed in the same energy, and with a wave of the woman's hand, they were flung against the brick wall. The other men would have run, but were held in place with the dark aura—needless to say, they were given the same treatment as their cohorts.

 

The other two men came bursting through the door of the jewelry store, bags full and weapons drawn. One was already taking aim at their adversary with his AK-47. Terry felt a new sense of confidence. He had to help this woman, whoever she was. Just as the robber was pulling the trigger, Terry jumped up, using all of his momentum to slam the man's jaw with an uppercut. Several rounds were fired into the air, and the man was sent crashing to the ground. The other one spun around.

 

“You brat! I'll kill y—" Before he could finish his sentence, he was sent flying through the broken window into the store with a broken nose. Terry grinned at the woman who had delivered the punch.

 

“Nice uppercut, by the way,” she commented.

 

“Thanks. You kicked some serious ass back there,” he replied.

 

“Hmm.” She rose off the ground, ready to fly, but felt someone tugging her cloak. She turned to find Terry holding onto it sheepishly. “Yes?”

 

“Uh…well, this may seem impolite to ask, since you saved my life and all, but…who are you?”

 

She paused. “The name's Raven.” With that, he let go of her cloak, and she floated away.

 

But not before Terry whipped out his camera and took several front-page-worthy pictures.

 

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Karen Popper was going shredding papers. She wasn't in a good mood. Connery had been a real slave-driver these past two nights. He wanted information on this new vigilante, and he wanted it fast. He was being a total jackass to everyone.

 

`Not that he's not usually a jackass…' Karen thought. She put the last of the papers in the shredder and sighed. `Well, that's done. Better get to work on this vigilante. I wonder—`

 

“RAVEN'S BACK!!!”

 

Karen nearly jumped out of her skin. Terry was dashing down the hall and he stopped by her.

 

“GUESS WHAT!” he yelled ecstatically.

 

“…You went to the Starbucks at midnight again, didn't you?”

 

“NO! LOOK!” he squealed, shoving pictures in her face. There was a blue-cloaked woman flying in all of them.

 

“…She's flying. Cool, but I'm still missing the point.”

 

He calmed down and beamed. “The point, my darling, is that I have just busted the vigilante story wide open.”

Her eyes widened. “WHAT?!” Now other people in the office were crowding around, eager to hear what Terry had discovered.

 

“Do you remember the Teen Titans?” he asked.

 

“Of course,” she said. “They were a group of teen superheroes that protected the city ten years ago, right?”

 

“Mmm-hmm.”

 

“Remember what happened to them?”

 

“Yeah…they weren't able to save some kid, and they broke up. But what does this have to do with…” Karen trailed off, as if something had just been made plain to her.

 

Terry held up the pictures for all to see. “It's Raven. The Teen Titan. She's back. I saw her!”

 

Everyone was chatting incessantly. This was the best! The story of the year! The century! Connery would finally back the hell off! There was cheering, and several people patted Terry on the back, or even hugged him—even Karen. Terry blushed. Suddenly, another photographer, Harold, appeared. He made his way over to Terry and Karen, looking urgent.

 

“Hey guys! Come downstairs quick!” he whispered. They followed him to the couch in the lounge downstairs and gasped.

 

Rae was sitting on the couch, head back, snoring quietly, with countless post-it notes stuck to her with various messages, like “kick me”, “I'm with stupid”, etc. People passing by snickered and stuck more to her. Karen chased them off, swearing under her breath.

 

“God,” she muttered. “We just can't act like adults around here, can we?”

 

Harold sighed. “She's really tired; I mean, not even Terry's yelling woke her up.”

 

Terry nudged Rae's shoulder. “Rae. Yo, Rae. C'mon, wake up.” Rae opened her eyes and stood up groggily. She blinked a few times and surveyed herself.

 

“…OK, who made me the local post-it woman?”

 

“Some assholes in printing,” Karen said. “You okay? You look beat.”

 

Rae stretched and yawned. “Long night. Sat down once I got in here, and I guess I just checked out.” She paused, and looked Terry over. “Lookin' good, kid.”

 

Terry smiled. “You like it?”

 

“Wow,” Karen said. “I didn't even notice that `til just now. Nice.”

 

“Thanks!”

 

Rae yawned again. “Ah well, back to work.”

 

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“Are you sure?” Gar asked Vic over the phone.

 

“Positive,” Vic answered.

 

“Goddammit, Rae!” He put his head in his free hand.

 

“Chill, Gar. We just need to talk to her.”

“If you remember, Vic, she's not the easiest person to persuade.”

 

“Yeah, but we've gotta do something, right?”

 

“Right. I'll call her. Make her meet us later.”

 

Vic could sense the anxiety in his friend's voice. “It'll be fine, Gar. I promise.”

 

“Thanks. I know it will, I just…I don't want her hurt. We had too many close calls when we were kids, and she's probably rusty…Dammit, Rae!”

 

“Just stay cool, OK? I'll catch you later.”

 

“Yeah. Bye,” he said hanging up. He dialed Rae's cell phone. No answer. He growled and dialed her home number. Five rings and…

 

“Hi, you've reached Rae Roth. If you're selling something, I suggest you hang up. If not, then you know the drill.” There was a long beep. Gar sighed.

 

“Rae? It's Gar. I wanted to meet you at the park on Saturday. Could you call me back later? `Kay, bye.”

 

Gar put down his phone and stretched across the couch with only one thought on his mind.

 

`Raven…'

 

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It was dark. Then again, that was the way he liked it. He used to hate the dark, but now? He loved it. It beckoned to him, in a way. The man's contemplation was interrupted by a knock on the door.

 

“Come in.”

 

His assistant came in the door. “Good day, sir. I have the video you wanted.”

 

“Good. Pop it in, will you?”

 

The assistant put the video in the VCR. The TV in front of them flickered to life. On the screen was a cloaked woman beating up a bunch of robbers. This went on for a few minutes, and the screen went black.

 

“That's all?” he asked.

 

“That's all, sir,” his assistant replied.

 

“Mmm.” He picked up the remote and turned on the second TV. Images of a black-clad man appeared. He had a blue bird on his chest, and swung from buildings with a grappling hook. This tape also ceased after a few minutes. The man rewound it and played it again. He did the same with the other tape.

 

“Have you ever heard `Five Little Monkeys', Sherman?” he asked, addressing his assistant by name.

 

“Can't say I have, sir,” Sherman responded.

 

“It's a little song that children sing,” he said, turning to the screen with the black-suited man on it. “It goes like this: Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and bumped his head. Momma called the doctor and the doctor said, `No more monkeys jumping on the bed.' It really is a very cute song.”

 

Sherman was feeling increasingly nervous. “It sure is, sir.”

 

The man smiled a dark, twisted smile. “Five little Titans jumping on the bed. Two fell off and bumped their heads. Momma called the doctor and the doctor said…” He clicked the remote, and both TVs turned off.

 

“'No more Titans jumping on the bed.'”

 

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Blowfish: I hope you liked the ending. (I was trying to make it creepy and suspenseful, but I think the monkey song may have killed it. Eh.) You can all guess what's going on there in your reviews. Not that I'll tell you if you're right. That would spoil the story! Anyway, I'll see you all later. And remember:

 

REVIEW! (It makes the author feel all warm and fuzzy inside.)