“I was angry with my friend

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.”

-William Blake

Starfire cupped the base of the snowglobe and twisted the sphere around. Tiny bits of delicate sparkling glitter drifted around the angel inside of the glass globe. She gave half a smile and watched the confetti “snow” spiral past the angel’s tiny wings, its iridescent hue glistening in the glow of her room. Indeed, it had been a very merry Christmas when Robin had given her such a remarkable gift.

The girl stopped smiling when she remembered those last events.

Robin, battered, bleeding, and with more horror in his voice than ever before, had screamed at all of them. He had seen their enemy and he had fought his friends. But once again, terror had vanished leaving only its mark of fear upon Robin. They had to pin him down and even chain Robin to the bed to keep him from breaking out. With a rage of fury, he had broken out to track down Slade despite the feverish illness that plagued him to no end. Once again, Robin was trying to be the lone hero and bring down the enemy all by himself.

You grabbed my arm, Robin. You hurt me so much, she thought sadly.

Why was it that when enemies fought you could always find the strength to get up and fight?

But when your own friends attacked you, shouted at you, and accused you of doing wrong. . . you could feel the pain slicing right through your body and heart down to the depths of your soul.

Starfire’s exhausted head landed on her pillow with a soft thumping sound. Her beautiful red hair spread out all over the blanket like a shimmering bolt of bright crimson silk. Starfire curled up into a little ball on her bed and closed her eyes.

Robin, why do you wear a mask? Not the mask over your eyes; that I understand. You told me that once you had to conceal your identity from your enemies. But why do you mask your heart from us?

What secrets are inside of you that make you run away from us, just to fight Slade?

A slight tapping noise made Starfire bolt up from the pillows. “Come in,” she said softly. The door slid open slowly.

Robin stood in the doorway, his posture slumped and his expression masked as always. But the lines around his face and the way his mouth was twisted told Starfire that he was not at all at ease.

“Starfire? Can I come in?” he asked. His voice was not at all like the vehement angry tones he had been using all night. It sounded like another Robin was inside of him, a Robin that wanted to curl up into pillows and close all eyes and doors, just like Starfire had just felt. This was a Robin that was vulnerable, concerned, and even overwhelmed with fear.

“Of course,” she said softly, moving to one side of the bed and making room for him. The masked boy took a seat so that the mattress springs creaked slowly when he sat opposite her. Starfire studied his face that was now plastered with many bandages from his fights; the struggling hallucinations he had just put up with.

Robin’s gloved hand came to Starfire’s arm. Unlike the fight in the pouring rain, he now laid his hand against her skin ever so gently like touching a piece of porcelain.

“I’m sorry, Starfire,” he said in a low voice that was trembling with emotion. “I’m so sorry I lashed out at you like that.”

“It was not your fault,” she insisted at once. “You and I did not know that only you could see Slade. You were angry-“

“-and stupid and rash and acting like an idiot,” Robin finished up. He suddenly stood up and began pacing the room as he always did in a whirlwind of thought. He shook his head and clenched his teeth.

“Damn,” he muttered. Robin began to pace around the room like a caged tiger. “I’m never going to learn from my mistakes. I just keep running in circles and hearing his voice, I never learn to listen to my team-I’m not acting like a leader should-“

“Robin, stop it!” Starfire suddenly shrieked, throwing a pillow aside. Robin was startled to see her spring to her feet while her green eyes were aglow with rage. Her own hands clenched up tight with righteous fury. But somehow, the churning fire inside of her was different than his.

“Stop hurting yourself like this,” she begged. “Stop it, Robin, I beg of you. I know that some people are always chasing dreams, but you,” here she walked straight up to his face with her hands clasped together tightly.

“But you are chasing your nightmares,” Starfire said. Robin was startled to see her emerald pooled eyes now begin to fill with hot tears of frustration that would soon start to spill over.

“Do not do it, Robin,” Starfire begged, her lower lip quivering. “Do not chase your nightmares.” She lowered her head, trying to hold back the crying tears that wanted to break out.

No, the Titans are there to fight, not to weep. Don’t cry, little girl. Please don’t weep.

Robin realized that there was something he wanted to do, something he had wanted to do for a long time even before this madness of the chase inside of his mind had ever started. Starfire felt his gloved hand come gently under her chin and tilt her face up to his. His fingers felt warm, firm, and flexible. His breath had become calm and soft again. This was the Robin that she knew and the friend that she trusted.

“What can I do to you make you feel better, Star?” he asked.

A fleeting memory caught the end of Starfire’s mind. Raven had gone into Robin’s mind. She had been able to probe out the depths and realize that whatever was real to Robin was real enough to do harm. But reading minds can be like reading magic and spells out of deadly books; once powers are mastered, they may cause great damage.

“I wish to see as Raven did,” she confessed. “I wish to see inside of your mind, into your heart and your eyes.” Robin’s lips remained sealed and Starfire felt her heart take a deep plunge. Robin would never allow her to do that. She was asking for the impossible, to truly probe out his mind and into the utter darkness that lurked within him, that very black river of thirst that made him chase after Slade . . .

“Starfire, if you truly want to see the world through my eyes then I will show you,” he said wearily. His answer caused Starfire’s eyes to wide and her mouth to open in surprise. But his gaze was steady and he nodded.

“I trust you,” he admitted. “But I'm warning you: once you see inside of my mind,” here his voice grew into a foreboding warning of danger. “You may not want me as your friend.”

“Robin, nothing you did can ever make me stop caring about you!” Starfire said in alarm. “Not even if you are angry with me,” she added, recalling his fierce outrage.

“Then, are you ready?” he asked. Starfire nodded.

“You have to take off my mask, Star. My eyes are the windows to the soul.”

Robin felt her small nimble hands come to his temples and the cloth of his mask slowly peel off. The night air blew against his skin around his eyes, and he knew he had been unmasked.

Even in the warm glow of the lamp that night, Starfire felt another force tugging inside as she realized that she was looking at Robin, another Robin that night.

His eyes were the most brilliant dark sapphire blue she had ever seen. It was not the perfect serene blue of a summer’s day or the azure of lapping water that swam in the oceans. This was the darkest most elusive part of midnight wrapped up in his eyes that let out its small blue shifts of light when he turned his head. In them lay the shadows of fear, adventure, and mystery. Thin slits of lighter blue darted in between the darkness like small glints of clarity for his mind.

With his jet black hair, sharp features, and dark eyebrows, his eyes were the most dazzling jewels of light and dark that she had ever seen. Starfire was startled, entranced, scared, spellbound, and even hypnotized by his eyes.

And then, Robin leaned his head even closer to hers, the dark blue and shimmering green eyes locked into each other. His hands were laid upon hers and Starfire felt a calm sinking feeling close over her body. She realized her own eyelids were getting heavy and she allowed them to close and her mind to dip into the darkness.

Starfire, this is my mind, these are my memories and thoughts.

This is the darkness I kept shutting out from you. This is the night you find the man behind the mask.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flashback

A little black haired boy of no more than five was jumping up and down on the wooden square shaped platform.

“Watch this, Daddy!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands in excitement. His father nodded and waved below. Taking a deep breath, the boy leaned forward.

“Careful!” Mary Grayson called from bellow as she looked up on her son. The child’s small but nimble fingers gripped the handle of the trapeze bar. Holding on, he swept through the air like a small sprite and without a trace of fear in his small tingling body.

He released the handle and tucked in his small body into a perfect ball. With the skill of an experience gymnast, the child whirled into a mid-air summersault and landed on the ground, his hands stretched out. “Ta-da!” he sang.

His father clapped his hands together and laughed showing his even fine white teeth. “Very good, son. Metropolis is going to enjoy our act tonight.”

He ran into the waiting arms of his mother and ran a hand over the smooth silken texture of her circus cape. “My Richard, my little Robin,” she murmured, stroking his head and gently kissing him on his rosy cheek. “You’ll always be able to make your dreams fly,” she said.

His blue eyes widened. “Really, Mommy?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, dear.”

“I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, little Robin,” she said, saying his special nickname with affection.

Flackback

“What a crowd!” one of the clowns whispered as they peeped through the curtains. The ten-year-old boy could scarcely control his own emotions as he looked at the throngs of people crowding in to see the circus that night. Dressed in his dazzling costume of bright red and green, Richard was ready to thrill the audience beyond their wildest dreams.

“Are you scared at all, Richard?” the clown asked, looking down at him. The boy shook his head fiercely. “I never get stage fright, and I’m NOT scared of heights,” he said. To the contrary, a wonderful tingling sensation was spreading from the top of his head down to his very toes.

The clown laughed and rumpled his black hair. “Good thing, because guess who’s here tonight!” He pointed to a man in the audience and the boy squinted to see.

“That man is Bruce Wayne. He’s one the richest men in all of Gotham.” The clown’s whispers could barely keep out his excitement. The boy looked carefully at the millionaire.

He didn’t look like other rich men that had drifted in and out of the circus tents. Other men were old, fat, money- makers that wore thick overcoats and puffed on smelly cigars. They were always flanked by women with too much makeup who would coo and make simpering remarks to Richard. They’d pinch his cheeks and call him “a little darling” and make him want to throw up all over their shiny shoes.

But that man was clean-shaven, neat, and didn’t look at all like a stuck up prig. He was smiling and Richard knew that his smile was real. Children have a gift for knowing when adults are lying through their teeth or really being honest. Suddenly, Bruce was looking straight at the yellow curtain that was allowing a generous amount of the boy’s head to stick out.

Now the smile was looking right at Richard and he gasped. The wealthy man raised a hand and waved it, his eyes also fixed on the boy. Alarmed, shocked, and even a bit frightened, the boy closed the curtain and ducked his head back.

“I told you, Mary, I told you that we’re not going to tolerate that raving lunatic anymore,” John began in an angry voice.

“Whatever threats Zucco has, I’m not going to let him harass Mr. Haley anymore. If that two-bit con man makes one more threat on an honest business . . .”

His wife quickly hushed him up and adjusted the collar on his costume before smoothing her own cape out.

“Shhh! Lets forget about it for now,” she insisted. “Do you want to spoil this night for our son?”

“Places everyone!” the ringmaster announced. Richard ran up to his parents and began to climb the ladder.

“Dad, did you know that Bruce Wayne is here tonight?” he asked.

“Course I know he’s here tonight! The most elite group of Gotham’s finest is here, and we’re going to give them the best show on earth!” his father said with a friendly slap on the boy’s shoulder.

“Don’t get Richard too excited or he won’t be able to perform the axle spin,” his mother warned.

“Mom, I can do it,” he insisted. “I’ll let Mr. Wayne know he’s come to see quite a show.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it, little Robin,” she said softly.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen of Gotham City," the ringmaster's voice echoed from the microphone. "Prepare yourselves for the greatest acrobats you have ever seen! Prepare yourself for the finest trapeze artists on the East Coast! I give you, THE FLYING GRAYSONS!"

The act began and the audience “oohed” and “ahhed” while the Flying Graysons whirled through the air, their costumes dashing and their smiles as stunning as the tricks they performed.

Richard’s heart was hammering hard and blood rushed out of his head as he spun in the air and grabbed his father’s outstretched arm. He wasn’t scared at all, not a bit. It was the thrill of the unknown, the wonderful joy of flying, of hearing the audience cheer and the ringmaster announcing his name:

“Richard Grayson, the youngest trapeze artists of them all!”

Yes, that was the reason he loved it all.

Imagine being able to fly without wings. . .

He loved everyone moment of it.

Now came the great finale when his parents would cross over in midair, and he would be able to take the death-plunge, the one that everyone would be left thunderstruck as he twisted through the bars. Yes, he smelled the sawdust in the air, felt the heat of the lights on his body and his tunic sticking to his skin with sweat. He heard the drumroll below now pounding his ears and in time to the pounding of his heart.

He did not expect to hear the sound.

SNAP!

It was the wrong music to end the great night. It was the wrong cord, the wrong colors in the rainbow world he had painted. No, he didn’t hear that noise because it means something was VERY wrong!

There was a scream and the next thing he knew, his mother’s outstretched hand had vanished. The once firm tightrope was now twisting in the air like a snake uncurling and the acid was burning into the ropes. Richard’s own mind was burning with white-hot rage and ice cold fear. His eyes were playing magic tricks on his mind.

“RICHARD!”

He leaned over the platform and saw them falling-not flying, but FALLING down down down. . .

With nothing to hold onto. He stretched out a hand and felt only the cool air between his fingers.

“MOM!”

The drumroll has stopped.

“DAD!”

The audience is on their feet.

“NO!”

Bruce Wayne’s eyes widen and in his mind, he sees another nightmare happening all over again. “Dear lord,” he thinks in his mind. “How many more children must lose their parents?”

He runs to the center of the ring, but the parents’ souls have ascended while their bodies are on the ground. They are still as lifeless puppets and mute as the shut up music boxes.

“MOM!” comes the cry again. The boy scrambles down the ladder and his feet nearly slip on the sawdust. He keeps running and kneels down beside the bodies.

This isn’t right, this isn’t how the act goes. They’re supposed to get up and perform. There are supposed to be magic tricks and sweet sticky cotton candy and popcorn and games and more songs.

The boy shakes his father’s shoulder. He rests a hand on his mother’s head.

“Mom, it’s me. . .your little Robin,” his faint voice comes out. "Mom, please, lets try to fly again," he begs.

The world is spinning in front of his eyes. He sees the beautiful colors of the circus, the lights and the sounds all spinning in his head. Then they all plunge into the most frightening horror of them all. It’s not a haunted house and it’s not a roller coaster. It has no colors or light in its path. It is known as black, for it sucks up all the wonderful feelings that the trapeze boy has ever felt.

It is called fear.

Bruce Wayne runs to the boy but the darkness takes the first hit and the child falls to the ground, unconscious.

THREE WEEKS LATER:

“I don’t care!” he shouted, stamping his foot on the polished wooden floor. His voice echoed around the handsome but gloomy room. “I don’t care about thick carpets or freezing crystal chanticleers or tons of books or ANYTHING!” he screamed out the last word with fury.

He took a breath just as the millionth wave of pain was washing over his breaking heart. “No matter what you try to do, no matter how much you’ll promise be my guardian, you’ll never be able to give me what I want!” he shouted at Bruce Wayne.

No more flying and no more magical circus games. Little Robin has lost his wings. He can’t fly. He can barely move. And now, he’s stuck in a gilded cage with nowhere to go. He has no nest to leave.

“You want your parents back,” Bruce said quietly. “And you’d give up all the money in the world to have them with you right now.” The wealthy handsome playboy’s face was solemn, his deep blue eyes full of wisdom and sadness.

“I know, Richard. I know what it is to lose loved ones.”

The boy threw himself on the four-poster bed with his fingers curled up tightly into the silk sheets. He buried his face into a large white pillow and every fiber of his body started shaking with rage.

“It’s not fair. . .” came the moaning voice. “It’s just not fair. . Mom. . Dad. . .”

There was a soft creaking noise as Bruce slowly sat down on the edge of the bed. A large warm hand rested on Richard’s shoulder, the thumb touching his neck. It was the gentle touch and the prodding concern of taking the boy under other wings. He saw a reflection of himself as a child again, torn apart with fear, rage, and a thirst for revenge. He saw it in this once lively and animated trapeze artist, now an orphan and alone.

“If I could have given up my life to save them, I would do it,” Bruce said with his own voice choking with sadness. “I’m sorry, Richard.”

There was a moment of deathly silence. Just then, muffled sobs were heard from the pillow and the red swollen eyes looked up at Bruce.

“Thank you.”

TWO YEARS LATER

Months of training. Rounds of lessons. Maneuvers mastered, techniques perfected, and careful conditions laid out. He followed it all.

The Robin had learned that the gilded cage was really a hoax, a mask to cover up the man inside. For within the bored looking playboy was a child, just like him. There was a child shouting out into the night and trying to find a way to fight off the fear and pain.

And now, he had been taken under the wings. Not the wings of an eagle or a dove but the wings of a dark elusive creature of the night. It was a creature that most people feared and loathed, the very reason Bruce has chosen it for his destiny. Richard had been following a bat to find a way in the darkness.

Bruce took him to a small table in the room. Only the light of a single candle spurted and drove off the darkness.

“Raise your right hand and repeat after me,” he said. The boy did as he was told.

“I solemnly swear to avenge the death of my parents and to fight for justice and truth.”

“I solemnly swear to avenge the death of my parents and to fight for justice and truth,” the boy announced to a tee.

He continued to recite the rest of the vow in a tone of great courage and seriousness. Before this night he would have been bubbling over with excitement for the ceremony. But now, there was nothing macho or glitzy about this oath and the role that he was ready to take up.

Yes, there would be publicity stuns and mysteries to drive the press wild. There were cool gadgets and tricky rules to play by.

But that was not why he was taking this oath. He was doing it for one reason alone: to ensure that no one else would have to feel the pain that he once felt in his lifetime. It was a cause that he was willing to drive his mind, his heart, and his soul into doing.

“By the power given to me, I will defend others in the name of righteousness, trust, and loyalty.”

“I will uphold the law and not take a life without cause. I will defend the weak and protect the innocent.” He looked up at his guardian with a face of dignity.

“Now, you are my partner, my alliance, and you have my trust,” Bruce said. He took out a uniform that made the boy’s eyes grow wide with delight and awe. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The uniform was tailored so much like his trapeze outfit, yet sleek and perfectly fitted to his body. It not only had a bold red tunic and yellow lined cape, but also combat boots and green trim with matching gloves.

He changed into the new clothes and stood before Bruce. Already he felt taller, stronger, and more confident that he had felt in a very long time. He felt like a man.

Bruce held up a black mask.

“Now I, Batman, do declare you, Richard Grayson, my partner in the crusade against crime.” The black fabric touched his skin and he blinked, realizing that the mask was on his face. Bruce had one last thing, the right touch to this restored enthusiasm that had come after so long.

He pressed a hand to Richard’s chest for a moment and then let go. The boy looked down to see a beautiful shining piece of gold in the shape of an R on his uniform.

The warmth of the gold and its bright glint made a new feeling of pride and a great sense of happiness that he had not felt in a long time. He straightened up before his guardian, now not at all afraid of the darkness or the dangers that lurked inside.

He was ready to become a detective, a crime fighter, and a partner.

“Welcome. . .Robin, Boy Wonder of Gotham City.”

FLASHBACK

The bo staff smacked Robin under his jaw with a painful cracking noise. He was sent sprawling across the ground where he finally came to a stop. The only sound was his gasping for breath and the eerie sound of gears cranking in the massive room.

“Get up,” Slade commanded as he walked over to the boy. Robin did not move at all.

“I said, get UP!” Slade shouted this time. He grabbed Robin by his black hair and yanked the boy to his feet. At the pain of nearly having his scalp ripped off his head, Robin gave a yelp and barely managed to stand on his shaking knees.

Slade pointed the staff in his direction. “Again. We are going to repeat this stance until you have learned it correctly.”

“I can’t,” Robin wheezed, his voice weak. Black and blue marks were raised on his face, a deep cut on his lower lip just barely healing where a thin trickle of blood was finally beginning to dry. Robin tried to moisten his chapped lips and parched gums but there was little he could do to relive the pain.

“It’s past midnight, I can’t think straight anymore,” he pleaded.

The masked man simply raised his wrist to which a peculiar remote was attached. He pointed to a massive screen where stats and scans of blood vessels were being displayed along with codes and names of the Titans. Robin looked on with a mortified look on his face.

“Then think about your friends’ bodies exploding with tiny probes,” Slade said in a cold voice. “While they all writhe on the floor like sick bugs.” The threat was enough to send Robin’s adrenaline rushing through his body.

Robin grabbed his staff and charged. “You, you MONSTER!” he screamed at Slade, charging with utter rage. “I’m going to kill you!”

Robin continued to get blocked, but he kept lashing out at his master. The bo staffs smashed and pounding noises were heard. Robin’s grip was giving out but he continued to push with the last bit of his strength. Even as his weapon was snapped in half by Slade’s blow, Robin’s clenched fists kept trying to attack him.

A powerful blow smashed into the back of Robin’s head and the hand pressed down on his head, slamming his body against the ground. Thousands of tiny stars winked inside of his head.

“Down boy,” Slade said coolly, as if he was taming a puppy. Robin’s face was burning with shame and anger. The cold metal of the uniform pinched against his skin and the leather was sticky against his arms and legs. Reeling from the nausea and sheer exhaustion, Robin took a gasp of breath. Slade locked his hands behind his back and took a slow long pace around the boy.

“Come now, Robin. I know you better than you know yourself. You had no problem with asking for my alliance as Red X. I was generous, I gave you my consent, I made you my apprentice. What more could you want?” the probing questions came with hints of mockery on Robin’s ears.

Robin was lost for words. His mind and body were not allowed the freedom that he once had before. Now, for the sake of his friends, he had become a slave to his enemy and an enemy to his friends. No longer the leader of a team, he was now being slowly worn down under Slade’s iron grasp. Should he so much as do the slightest thing to displease his master, the rest of the Titans would die a slow and painful death. And it would all be his fault. Robin knew that he could never forgive himself if anything happened to them at all.

And so, he put up with the training, the long hard hours of work in the dark machine filled room. He put up with the smuggling and stealing of valuable weapons. He did it all and was now on his knees, trying to find some source of sanity in this personalized hell of his. The only thing that kept him going was that very threat of the Titans’ annihilation, which was intertwined with his own servitude to Slade.

“I . . . never . . . wanted . . . this. . .” he whispered softly. But his voice was still capable of being heard.

“You wanted this, Robin. You are getting everything that you wanted; the ability to succeed in your powers, the chance to fight me one-on-one without disruptions, and of course. .”

Slade waved a hand around the room.

“Of course your friends are not here to distract you.”

There it was, the dose of bitter medicine forced down Robin’s throat. He had shut out his friends in such haste; he hadn’t even regretted losing their trust. And now, he had to bear this suffering in silence without them.

“Somehow, I will stop you,” Robin said in his mind. His shaking hands remained on the ground, his arms refusing to support his body for much longer.

But he shook his head and refused to accept it. He had taken an oath to protect others, and that was just what he was attempting to do now. Robin would rather die right there and then at Slade’s feet than lose all chances of ever rescuing the Titans.

“I will find a way to get them back.”

END FLASHBACKS

Starfire opened her eyes and looked at Robin.

”Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.”

-William Blake

His once deep blue eyes were now almost bloodshot from the restraining tears. The corners of his mouth were pulling down as much as his dark eyebrows and she could tell that he was screaming inside.

The dam was going to burst any second.

“Star. . . I want my parents back,” his voice was cracking. Robin swallowed the bile in his throat and tried to keep his head up, tried to keep himself as strong as he could. “I want my parents more than anything else.”

Without a second to spare, her own heart just broke into two and she fell against him, sobbing to her heart’s content.

“I, I had no idea,” she cried as the shining tears falling onto his red tunic and leaving small spots. Robin had horrors within him that she and none of the other Titans had known.

Yes, Raven had struggled with her father and Starfire had come as a stranger to earth. Cyborg and Beast Boy were once human and had lost control over their bodies. But Robin was a different story:

He had lost the people that he loved.

This was something that he would never be able to accept completely, no matter how hard he tried. And yet he had continued to suffer in silence and work as hard as he could to keep his team intact. She had seen in his mind all those sad songs that he had masked just to remain silent and aloof. Starfire was sure she would melt again if she had to see Robin suffering at the hands of Slade, being humiliated and bruised by his master just to save his friends.

Starfire’s fingers curled into Robin’s cape and her head rested on his shoulder as she continued to cry. Words were pushing out of her mouth, a river of emotions overflowing from inside.

“I am so sorry, Robin,” she sobbed. “Please, forgive me for being angry with you. I did not know how hard you have fought, how much you have lost. Forgive me, my friend,” she begged in pleading tones.

Robin felt the rush of emotions wash over his body. Mingling mixtures of fear and yet relief were running through his body. Suddenly, an odd quivering sensation was forming in Robin’s eyes and nose. A feeling thick as syrup but sharp like needles was slowly oozing through his veins. It was spreading into his arms, his legs, his chest, and his mind.

No, not this. I haven’t ever cried before. Damnit, I’m the leader of a team, I can’t cry! I mustn’t!

Starfire’s arms remained firm and secure around Robin’s neck. Her hand came to his own face, her thumb gently smoothing over his skin. Soft lips gently pressed to his cheek and the tears continued to fall like the bits of diamond-like dust in her snowglobe.

How could one single girl make him feel so scared and yet so safe?

“Koriand’r is your real name. But I call you Starfire,” he thought to himself.

Then it occurred to Robin like a bolt of lightning illuminating the sky in the midst of a pounding thunderstorm:

Starfire

Star

Fire

Light

Your name means light, and you have been my light all of this time.

Stars sparkle in the nighttime to light the way. Ice wraps around my heart and keeps me from you, but fire brings warmth and a glow that I see in your smile. You have been there to light my way. You can help me find myself when even I am lost in the darkness.

“You are my star . . . you are my light,” she heard him say in a voice that was beginning to break. Now the last of the mask had dissolved away and somebody else was talking.

Robin’s arms wrapped around Starfire and he clung to her, the mingling pains spilling over and the tears finally seeping out of his eyes. Those were the very tears he had been struggling to fight for so long. He never wanted his enemy or his friend to see him cry, but now a great burden had been lifted from his heart. Now Robin was sobbing as well, the tears able to fall free with no mask at all over his eyes or his heart.

Starfire would never let him just go into the darkness, alone and forgotten. Even when they had to fight each other, she would not accept him as an enemy. She was light. She was there to help him find clarity when his anger overruled him. She was there to reach out and take his hand and find that light, that shimmering glow of stars in the sky and the warmth of a fire that roared away at howling snowstorms.

Little Robin, you are never alone.

“Robin, no matter what Slade can find to scare you, no matter how much he wants to make you afraid,” Starfire continued to say. “He will never know that you will always be loved and you shall always be my friend.” Her hand gently touched the battered but still existing R badge on his uniform.

“Do not ever forget this, Robin! Please, do not ever forget!” Starfire begged him.

“I won’t forget it,” he answered, his hand gently smoothing through her red hair. “Thank you, Star,” he said a voice that was praying for the both of them. “Thank you for being my light.”

The two Titans remained in that embrace for a long time that night. Many times they had saved each other in battle, but now, they were saving each other in a fight that raged within. Fear, anger, and tension had ripped them apart, but there were bonds that would not be broken.

Robin knew that there were ties not even the man dubbed Deathstroke could severe. His greatest enemy, his worst nightmare, might be able to probe out his terror. But he could not take Robin from his greatest happiness for anything in the world.

Robin and Starfire fell on each other’s shoulders and they cried together that night.

“It is better to have loved and lost

Than to never love at all”

Lord Alfred Tennyson