Pettins

By Megan

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. And the title is a non-word from the online comic, "Two Lumps."

Notes: I likses my drabbles lots. I likses kitties more. Robby-poo kinda acts like Batman in this. Why God, why? Oh yeah—it was going to be slash, but then it didn't get there. Oh well, I like it how it is.

"Why did you leave the scene Cyborg," Robin asked, trying to sound as concerned as possible. His exasperation with the cybernetic teen was evident, however, in the rasp of his voice and the way he positioned himself quite close to the other boy. Cyborg knew that if Robin had truly cared, he would interrogate from the corner, with his cloak pulled tightly closed, offering the emotion with as much caution possible. The boy wonder was not one for obvious displays—his approval and affection for the team came in subtle packages, such as days off or trips into the city that don't involve alarm bells chasing their heels, repeated by sirens on the mainland, a noisy bubble of urgency.

Cyborg looked away, fidgeting as much as his body allowed. He had no explanation for abandoning the fight, other than an odd, capricious moment of futility. At some point, watching Johnny Rancid tear apart the streets of Jump city for the third or fourth time made him realize how…cyclic their work had become. Person commits crime, we throw person in jail, person gets out and commits the same crime, we throw them back…. "I had an epiphany, I guess."

His leader went rigid, his irritation running cold. He took a step back, realizing that he might not like the answer to his question. To any of his questions. "What…kind of epiphany?"

"I don't think there are types, but…I just realized how…how futile it all is. Not to say I think that now, no, I think what we do is awesome, boo-yah and all that. But for that moment…I couldn't find any reason to keep fighting Johnny, or anyone, if they were just going to come back and attack the city again and again and again." He sighed, the feeling creeping back upon him.

He watched Robin in his peripheral, how he didn't fidget, didn't bite his lip or play with the edge of his cape, even though he was obviously struggling to absorb and answer the unasked question. "What we do is right," he said, though his tone was pained, as though he had to rip them from a deep part of himself. "Even if we lose sight of our purpose, or the good that we really do, we're doing the right thing. We cannot operate too far outside of the law. We can't…" the last words tore free of him slowly, with great struggle, "We can't be like them, even if it seems like a…a good idea." Robin took a deep breath, and unknit his brows. "We have to do better. We have to be better."

Cyborg didn't understand why Robin put himself through the obvious labor of an explanation, when he'd never asked for one. Cyborg already knew those things, he'd simply told Robin why he left the battle. "Not always," he said anyway. Robin had begun the discussion, and Cyborg was willing enough to finish it. "No one has to be right all of the time. And today, I guess it was my turn to be wrong. I know you're mad at me—"

"I'm not mad, okay!" The boy wonder exclaimed defensively. "I'm not mad," quieter, this time. "I'm…I'm not mad." Cyborg gazed at him straighforwardly, letting him know that the display of temper had not gone unnoticed, nor the way he refused to reveal his true emotion. "What were you doing, anyway?" It was an obvious deflection, and Cyborg was almost pleased at his ability to get under the boy's skin. With Raven, the understanding between the two birds went both ways, but Cyborg had invested time and concern into his observations of the boy wonder, where Robin had kept his end of the relationship settled firmly in a rivalry between friends.

He decided to indulge his leader in his defense mechanism, decided to see how much he could make the boy wonder squirm with emotion and details of his wandering. "I walked away, somewhere quiet, not too far away. Somewhere without people. I found a cat." He shook his head at the memory, realizing just how much he'd have to give up to force Robin into the open.

Robin, however, had little idea what he was dealing with. When Cyborg had taken the bait of his query, he'd thought himself safe. He allowed himself to step closer once more, to lean against a counter opposite the other boy. They were in the garage, far below the rest of the team. The boy wonder had little fear of eavesdroppers, knowing that he could trust Raven to keep the others away, and to keep her empathy under control. After they'd defeated her father, Raven had found time to teach him several ways to control their bond, so that he would gain the privacy she had been privelaged to since it was formed. Those tricks, however, seemed little defense against Cyborg's observational skills. Somehow, the boy always seemed to know exactly what would make him least comfortable. Robin was sure the opposite was also true, and that Cyborg could put him at ease with a mere word, but either way he felt manipulated. He wasn't sure if his friend was conscious of the manipulation, and therefore, didn't call him on it. Of course, he wasn't sure he wanted to point it out to Cyborg, for if the boy knew that Robin was still easily manipulated even when he knew it was happening, it might give him further power over the boy wonder. Even as he'd thought of it, however, he'd moved closer to his friend.

"So, I found this cat, and it was just strolling around some of the debris. When it saw me, it rolled onto its back, like it wanted me to pet it or something. So I…" Cyborg trailed off, partly to note how close Robin had gotten, mostly because he was embarrassed. "Man, don't take this the wrong way, but I just…I tried to pet it, but these hands of mine aren't exactly made for petting things. They're not warm or soft or anything, and just…I forget sometimes, 'cause I can't feel them." Robin took a step back again, and Cyborg sent him a beseaching, disappointed look. He froze, mask shifting around his widening eyes. Tentatively, he moved back to where he'd stood a moment before. Once he was settled against the counter once more, Cyborg continued. "So I reached down to this little cat, didn't want anything from me but the one thing I couldn't give…and as soon as these cold hands touched it, the thing yowled, twisted out from under my hand, and shot off. At first I was terrified that I'd hurt it, and I tried to find it to make sure, and—" Robin held up a hand to interrupt.

"Cyborg, it's okay. You…it's not your fault that…" Robin didn't know what to say, but Cyborg was touched that he was trying to say something. He felt a bit of triumph, that he had managed to worm his way deep enough into Robin to pull him so far from his shell. He looked down, to see how much further he could draw the boy wonder out.

Upon seeing his friend slump, slightly, Robin heaved a frustrated sigh. There wasn't much he could say, to justify the motivations of a cat. At the same time, he wasn't sure what he was meant to do. Comfort was in order—surely—yet how to give it? Could he even give it at all? Would Cyborg see it as a sign that his manipulations, purposeful or not, were working?

With another sigh, Robin threw himself upon the mercy of any higher power that might give it to him. "Here," he said, crossing the space between them and lowering his head.

Cyborg looked up and blinked, startled by the mass of black spikes assaulting his vision. "Wha…what?"

Robin opened his cloak a bit, to cross his arms. "Here—you can…you can pet my hair, if you want. I mean, cats are too stupid to think about how you feel or anything."

The cybernetic teen almost laughed, but he was far too taken aback by the offer. "But…what about your hair? Aren't you afraid it'll get messed up?" He knew he was pressing his luck, that his window of opportunity was closing with each wasted moment, yet he had to be sure that Robin was doing this of his own free will.

"Jesus Cyborg, just pet my hair already!" He snapped, proving Cyborg's thoughts correct.

With a lopsided grin, Cyborg complied, lifting one large, gleaming limb to run his fingers through the boy wonder's hair, and massage his scalp with the cold digits. Robin didn't seem to mind their frigid tempurature, but rather, enjoyed it. A sigh of relief escaped his chest, followed by a delighted hum deep within his throat.

Cyborg couldn't feel Robin's hair, but those vibrations were enough. The knowledge that Robin wasn't hurt, or made uncomfortable by his touch made up for the cat in the deserted streets, and the fact that Cyborg might never be able to touch another cat ever again. Robin could be more guarded and fickle than ten-thousand cats, yet here he was, almost purring beneath Cyborg's cold, nerveless hands.

Almost reluctantly, after a few moments, Robin stepped away from that hand. He did not move too far from Cyborg, or draw his cape completely closed. He stood waiting, anxious to return to his defenses, but unsure what reaction his friend would have. "So…um…you better now?" His hesitance was echoed in the question.

The smile never left Cyborg's face. "Yeah. Thanks man. I know that was…hard for you."

"It was…nice." Robin admitted, though his discomfort remained.

Cyborg decided to let him go—back to the sublte compliments and concern, back to the defensive leader status. "Why don't we take everyone out for waffles, I think IHOP is still open."

"Sure, that's a good idea." Robin relaxed, the cape fell closed, cutting him off. Yet, for the first time during their conversation, he smiled. Cyborg, briefly, had another epiphany—Robin liked the way he was, and he was glad that Cyborg didn't force him out of his shell too often. He was glad to be in control, or at least, to think he was. He shook his head, slightly amazed at the sort of people he now lived with. "I'll meet you upstairs?" Robin asked, having seen the thoughtful look in his friend's eye.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right up," he said, waving a bit with his still-raised hand. As Robin exited the garage, he noticed several stray hairs caught in the joints of his fingers. He picked them out absentmindedly, working up the resolve to get up and follow his leader upstairs.

Before he could move, Robin turned back. "Thank you."

Cyborg could only sit in bemusement, watching the caped figure disappear from the room.

This thing mutated so many times…my characterizations are always so WEIRD. Ah well, I love this thing, and I hope you do too Jean!