Chapter 13: Frayed Ends.

Jericho sat on the roof, watching the stars. He had a lot to think about. Most of his energy was devoted to worrying about whether or not anyone picked up on the identity of "Joseph". He hoped it had been missed, but he doubted it. He spotted a green hawk swinging up to the roof from across the water, and Beast Boy landed, taking a few steps to absorb the momentum of flight.


"Hi, Jer."

Find anything?

"Nope. The guy's vanished again."


There was an awkward silence between them for a few moments.

"I hope you don't mind me saying it, but he's your father, isn't he?"

Jericho sat up in shock. Oh crap. No use denying it, though.

How did you know?

Beast Boy gave a small grin. "These ears aren't just for show, ya know."

Jericho winced as Beast Boy looked about to continue. Here it comes, he thought, grimly.

"Cool." Beast Boy punctuated this with a shrug.

Jericho frowned. What?

"What you want me to say?"

Iā€¦never mind.

"Look, dude, I know you must be a little edgy talking about this, and it's your secret to tell, so I won't spill."

Thank you.

"However, if you ever do want to talk about it, I'd suggest telling Raven."

Why her?

Beast Boy smiled slightly. "It's not my secret to tell, dude. But trust me, she'll understand."

Jericho didn't understand, but he got the feeling he didn't have to.

Thanks. Good night.

"G'night, dude." With that Beast Boy climbed down the stairs to his room, leaving Jericho to think, considerably less gloomy than before.


It had been three weeks. Three weeks of 'normality'. Killowat had eventually come down off his energy high, much to his chagrin. A new villain had plagued Titans South, a raggedy man with pan pipes- apparently he could control rats, and for some reason he thought that qualified him for supervillainy. He had been proven wrong quite quickly. Jericho looked around at the team gathered in the common room. Hot Spot and Killowat were arguing, again. This time it seemed to be something to do with which incarnation of Deep Purple was the best, or something like that. Deep Purple. Maybe that was some kind of code. Herald was watching the two with amused indifference, and Argent was giving Jericho that look again. He wasn't entirely sure what she was thinking when she looked at him like that, but something told him he'd like the answer. As he looked around his base- his home, and saw his friends- his family, they were now, he felt that joining the team was the best mistake he'd ever made.



And that's all, folks. My first story, finished. I might refine it someday, but nothing major. Anyhoo, thanks to Comicbookfan for starting this contest, and I hope that someone reads this and thinks "I can write a better story than this crap with my eyes closed." If you think this, then talk to Comicbookfan and prove your mighty writing skills. Bring it on, chumps.