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The Replacement	By : aranel Category: DC Verse Comics > Teen Titans Views: 1646 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Replacement
- 1
Pairing: Nightwing/Robin
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I pretend to own any recognizable characters within this work of fiction. They are the sole property of DC and I am just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

It was chilly, which was nothing new for this time of year. The city had been rather quiet so far, which made his job just a little bit dull. The interest of proper stalking could be rather diminished with nothing to stalk. Or rather, when the stalked had nothing to do.

Circling the city lazily was getting them nowhere, and he was all about ready to pack up for the night when the other settled unto a rooftop to wait. Vaguely intrigued, he decided five more minutes couldn’t possibly hurt, and settled himself as well, binoculars at his side.

It didn’t take long. The shadows moved to the far right, and he pulled the binoculars up to his face, peering through them to witness the rendezvous.

The first form was his prey, and easily discarded. The second, emerging figure he recognized immediately. There was no mistaking the graceful glide of that particular body through any sort of matter. Tapping the side, he zoomed in, and watched the younger smile. The other smiled back, and smoothly closed the distance.

Well, he’d been expecting them to be friendly toward one another, he supposed. After all, it wasn’t as if the original held any particular grudge too long. Just random, jumbled pieces that he forgot more often than indulged. The hair ruffling was reminiscent, but he’d been expecting it. Blinking hard, he forced himself to concentrate.

The pair came together, sort of dancing about one another, in the way they moved to the ledge, what appeared to be playful banter crossing the expanse between. Tapping the side once again, he was able to focus on their faces, reading lips.

‘Can’t hide up here forever.’

‘Who’s hiding?’

‘If I didn’t know better I’d accuse you. But, we both know better than that, don’t we?’

He supposed the younger hummed, as he craned back his head, leaning on both hands.

The original smiled, and invaded the space, pressing into the replacement, drawing him close. He zoomed in closer as their mouths met, idly wondering when the formula had changed.

He had to pan back when it got too involved he couldn’t focus properly. Panning back proved to be both beneficial and aggravating. It was a bit…disconcerting to see them together that way. And yet strangely, not off putting.

He wondered if it was because he’d always entertained the idea, or whether it was so because he knew the younger cape really had no right to be there at all. The smaller one, the replacement. The one who shouldn’t belong, but seemed to fit so well. At least the costume had changed.

At first, he’d been wary of that. He’d not been naïve enough to believe he’d not been replaced. If the original could be replaced, everyone else was fair game. And yet, some part of him had wanted it. Had wanted to see the pain and despair still in tact. Wanted to know it’d been difficult, if not nearly impossible to move on.

The first sight of Robin left him feeling empty almost immediately. He’d known there’d be a Robin. There was always a Robin. And yet, so much emotion had rushed so quickly to the fore, he hadn’t been able to process any of it. So he’d decided he’d stake him out. This new Robin. Find out how he worked, and played. Who he was, and whether he paid the cape any honor or not.

It wasn’t so much that there was a new Robin that made him hate the replacement so. No, new Robins were inevitable. It was the fact that this one seemed…coddled.

He’d been following him for two weeks straight, in his spare time. The kid could handle himself well, appeared to be more intelligent than he’d initially given him credit for, and had an enviable right hook. All of this was fine. It was the array of toys that made him just a little jealous. The access to areas he’d never thought possible. The speed with which back up arrived, even when uncalled for.

His replacement was kept under constant surveillance. Heaven forbid little wing sneezed improperly. And off to the rescue someone would come.

Alfred visited little Robin’s nest twice weekly. And although the kid didn’t realize it, Batman himself made a swoop once a week. Robin was usually in bed by then, and he’d peer in through the skylight, feel better about himself and be off.

He’d seen the new Batgirl, swing by every so often. Usually the little wing didn’t notice. Pitiful really. Sometimes, when she came through the door, or met him on a rooftop, they’d smile and chat, and she’d squeeze his shoulder, pat his back and be off. Likely reporting to the Bat that precious replacement was still all in one precious piece.

As if that hadn’t been enough, this was the veritable last straw.

He couldn’t really give name to the feeling, or why exactly it was there in the first place. Jealousy, possessiveness, rage…all mixed together in one simple, unexplainable package. It was more annoying to admit it as there, than to indulge the feeling. Watching them together only made it worse.

Where did the replacement get off, affixing himself so carefully to the original. Who said he could attach himself at all. And why, of all people, was the original encouraging him?

As far as encouragement went, Dick had always been…an iffy source for him. Almost as if, he wanted to side with his own replacement, and yet, there was something holding him back. As if, connecting too well would ruin some unwritten stratagem he’d never gotten the chance to learn. He’d never stressed, but he’d given support. He’d shied away, and offered explanations. A good many things that had done more to confuse than reassure. And yet, he’d always felt drawn to him. As if the original had answers he needn’t necessarily figure out on his own. Many times in fact, he’d been tempted to ask, but his pride had gotten in the way. His replacement didn’t seem equipped with that particular block.

No, his replacement seemed thoroughly adept at receiving what the original offered.

He tapped another button, clearing the image via night vision, as they moved into the shadows. For kicks, he added the thermal scanner. The pair appeared like radiant vestiges of day. It grew hard to tell them apart as their bodies came together, and so he switched back.

Unsure of which he preferred, he leaned forward, careful to keep below their horizon, even if he had height advantage.

Blankly, he watched. There was something more than a simple coming together occurring here. There was passion. A consuming, all encompassing type of passion. Feeding one another parts of what little soul remained, as though recycling could lead to redemption. Bodies clinging so closely, if not for the subtle uniform differences, and colorations one could be concerned over the strange, many limbed entity.

So close, the original held the replacement, so tenderly. Body a wave of emotion and instinct against the smaller one wrapped about it. And that smaller body held no less tightly, head thrown back in ecstasy. Mouth open wide and panting, hands clinging to dark hair, strong and gauntlet covered.

He watched them, in mild fascination. Did the Batman know? He couldn’t begin to wonder how much this sort of camaraderie could achieve in opposition to all Batman had strived to contrive. All that he’d managed to achieve, jeopardized by something as blatantly simple as emotion. And the emotion of a once Robin to a new. Surely, this was against every rule in the Bat handbook.

Tactical strategy alone couldn’t combat what he was witnessing. This was a mental upheaval. This was mutiny in the making. This was unbelievably rich.

As he watched them unload their troubles, work through their aggressions, and spill their relief over one another, he couldn’t help but be smug. For all Batman preached, he couldn’t control his creations. The element of one Robin meeting another was a variable he couldn’t control. The past, present and future, simple chess moves on the gameboard of his own creation. One that was rapidly changing before his very eyes.

The original, and the replacement’s replacement. How uncannily delightful.

They moved sluggishly now, warm in the aftermath, and he drew back once more. Watched them clean themselves up and depart. For a moment, he didn’t know whom to follow. Lost in the instant where emotion met transaction. A single moment of fruition had him back on track, and he stood, packing things away.

He’d follow the replacement. After all, every replacement had the right to know their predecessor. And the little wing was making happy with the wrong predecessor.

There were definitely things he could teach him.
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The Replacement