Hello everyone. This is my first Young Justice fanfiction, coming out of my usual haunt, the Teen Titans Cartoon fandom. I've been working on this for months and finally channeled my inner teenage boy so here we go.
With this fic I am borrowing a bit from the comics and the Teen Titans Cartoon to flesh out some of the plot (I'll explain below in the author's notes but check the notes ahead if you are unfamiliar with the Green Lanterns and some other DC Comic lore).
This will be a minific of perhaps three chapters.
December 7, 2011
no doubt a date that will live in infamy...
Set in Season 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice. It is owned by Cartoon Network, DC Comics and Warner Brothers and in some fashion they share the rights. I just play in their world a little bit, taking a slight diversion from the Teen Titans fandom.
A kiss is just a kiss... that's what he'd heard.
One night Robin finds out that no, a kiss isn't just a kiss at all.
Sure, it happens. I know it happens. It's just not supposed to happen to me: Robin, the Boy Wonder. Or to the other me, Dick Grayson.
Holy Colles Fracture Batman, this bites!
Yeah, normal people break their wrists, not me. Worse yet, it happened at Superboy and M'Gann's, I mean Conner and Megan's school, so we can't exactly take me out of the cast too ridiculously early even when we accelerated the healing. What was worse, we all saw it coming but we couldn't react in our civilian identities. Watching Wally start to go to move me and return to his previous position, hoping everyone missed it, trying to look nonchalant (hey is chalant a word? No one ever says it, better look it up, that whole whelmed thing was embarrassing considering it is a word after all...)
That Mal Duncan had it in for Conner, we all knew that going in, but man I never expected that his jock minions would take it out on me. All and all it's okay; these things happen. Probably good for me. It makes me feel almost, I don't know, normal? It's High School, fights happen. I don't get to feel like a normal teenager much.
Plus, it beats getting rubber malleted by the Joker.
Mal ended up being super cool. Nice guy, I think he and Conner just got off on the wrong foot. Aaaand seem to be staying that way. There are a lot of nice people at Happy Harbor. Not that I'd transfer. Scratch that: not that I'd be allowed to transfer. Bruce wouldn't let me and Babs would prevent it. Somehow. She's getting possessive in a flattering and confusing and not-so-subtly-I-think-she-likes-me-sort-of-way. Well maybe.
What do I know? I'm a fourteen year old boy.
So there I was that night: I found myself bored, as in nothing to do, lacking a purpose, an activity, something to amuse myself... well, sorta... The very fact that I can be bored amuses me. Being bored itself... not so much. Robin isn't patrolling with Batman. Ugh, third-personning again, that cannot be healthy... Anyway, patrolling would be no problemo with the wrist. Again, got the whole accelerated healing thing going for me with help from our friends at the League; plus I'm a former acrobat, I don't need no stinkin' use of my left wrist to fight crime.
And really Bruce, budget meeting at the Watchtower Seriously? You were so with Selina: you trained me as a detective, why try to lie to me?
So I was at Mount Justice (what, and stay at the manor and perv on Selina? Ick, she's like thirty-two!). Red Tornado had given everyone assignments to test our individual skills. Part of the skill testing is to work with him one-on-one to sharpen our close range fighting. He won't work with me 'cause, and I quote, 'He. Might. Harm. Me.' His mechanical voice cracks me up. Not that I'd laugh in front of him though. Can't they get his speech more, I don't know, flowy?
As for the other part of this stuff there was all this paperwork to assess our individual 'aptitude'. Why now? Why more? Worthless use of time. Why didn't those jocks break my right wrist so I wouldn't have to write? Or both wrists? Now that would have been something awesome. Milk it for all it's worth. Girls at school taking notes for me, offering to tutor me, feed me – okay, that could be interesting but not in the caf – but you get the idea, helping me even more...
Focus, Dick, priorities (Bruce get out of fu-, I mean, get out of my head)... slight ADD moment, sorry-
It seemed like a lot of that 'What Color is My Parachute?' crap, the sorta thing the guidance counselor gives you. Tells you what career is the best fit with your personality. Seriously? We're heroes already – we have a career path, don't we?
So I went along with it, it chased the boredom for about twenty minutes. My future. Whatever. Not like we don't hear it all the time. Our friends asking us what we want to do. Babs, man Babs really seems intrigued. Gets up in my grill, ya know? I respond back in any way, then I'm so denied. If another girl starts talking to me, Babs gets surly. What is up with that?
And 'civilian adults', how they are with me, now that's another amusing thing; all the 'free' advice they give Dick Grayson. People hand it out all the time, like they have great insight. Like at Bruce's parties: 'Run Wayne Enterprises (obvious, duh), be a polo player (huh? Have they seen me ride?), become stock broker, how about a consultant, you'd be a great gigolo (ha ha – how wildly inappropriate Mrs. Cuthbert, even if you are kinda hot. I think. For like, I dunno, 40?).
Then the not-so-subtle digs, ya know, like that line in that old movie Caddyshack, 'the world needs ditch diggers too.' Bite me.
By the time I'm done with all the paperwork, I check the intranet and my teammates, or 'the unwounded' as Wally call them – jerk – to see what they are doing; their up to their own stuff and I found myself going stir crazy. Just a different way to say bored.
Not that I really wanted to hang with the others. No, I was cool on my own. I decided to do a little monitoring of the good ole' JLA transmissions, to keep in the know. I was the alleged leader when I wasn't on the disabled list.
I did a hundred one-armed pushups in my room as I listened to the JL chatter. I barely broke a sweat. Sweet.
I switch to crunches, elbows to the side, not locked behind my head... there is some chatter about some spacecraft that they'd been following since it came out of Sector 2828, the Vega System. I stop to get the system's location. Not too far really, twenty-six light years out, about five times further than from us to Alpha Centuri, our closest star system.
I remembered that place. Guy Gardner always rants about that place. Well, he rants about everything, but he was all super-ranty about this place. Something about they won't let the Green Lanterns in there. A whole bunch of alien races are in that system, like at least one for every planet, which is highly unusual.
Bruce had explained to me the real reason the Green Lantern's weren't in there was that it was beyond what the GL's could deal with so they didn't try. The Lanterns, or rather the Guardians, turned a blind eye, no matter how heinous things were. He said it would be best all that stuff they had in the Vega System stayed there; too much technology on a plane that was dangerous in more 'subtle' ways: rumors of genetic manipulation, eugenics, even planet and star-destroying weapons. And all those races? Many were rumored to be genetically engineered from a couple of the indigenous 'peoples'. There are supposed to be some kind of 'Mad Scientist' race there doing all that. Sounds awful. But maybe they're okay with it.
Bruce said most of it might be folklore from the other planets in Vega or rumors. But then again, Bruce doesn't 'do' rumors... so it must be true.
I was sure this Vegas or Vega place must be nasty and it's residents are hideous... so I hope what happens in Vega stays in Vega – or goes back and stays in Vega I mean, or whatever.
I listened in but what was coming out of the Vega System was that far away and it could head anywhere even if it was coming in this general direction. It was Green Lantern jurisdiction, or some other policing group in outer space if whoever starts causing trouble.
As the night went on, the amount of chatter increased. It was apparently a Gordanian vessel from the Vega system. I checked the JL data bases. Oh those Gordanians are some big uglies.
The chatter was getting heated as a ship approaches Alpha Centuri, but vectors away. It was only 2.35 light years from us; that was fast. It appeared to be following a small comet. Odd.
I had to figure out what was going on with that comet... its trajectory made no sense for a celestial object. A one man – or one whatever – vehicle? Cool. Or probably ick if it is one of those Vegans. Was it friendly or a hostile? Still that little and above light speed? Huh. Or again, cool.
The reports keep coming in... Whatever it is, it's fast and the Gordanians were keeping up with it. Could it be heading here to Earth? The JL wasn't saying anything about that.
There is hardly a break before the Justice League reports verify the Gordanian and the 'probable single manned vehicle' enters our solar system and it appears that the JL has gone on a secure frequency. A new one that I can't access. Now I wish I had access to the Batcave. Damn. At least I had general broadcast info, but still, I was out of the loop.
What happened next surprised me. The Gordanian vessel didn't end up venturing further than the asteroid belt. Whatever they'd been following, maybe it didn't make it. I wondered if the League is going to engage the Gordanians anyway, or let the Lanterns. I kept listening as the minutes ticked by and just assumed the excitement was over when the Justice League mentioned that the Gordanians had left our Solar System without incident.
Still, I had an itch, a feeling. The story wasn't over. I did a sweep of the area surrounding us for fun; not about this, but about anything. I was suffocating. Listening to the reports had my blood up more than I had realized.
I flipped over and checked on a hunch the meteor, meteorite and comet activity. Not just the Space website. There are the more reliable sources, with more complete information, the things that the public doesn't know about and I keep checking those.
I watched and waited. The itch grew, I couldn't shake the feeling. Butterflies in my stomach, no, that sounds lame... and girly... but there's something out there, or there's going to be.
I reminded myself it's all right to follow my instincts... "Bactarimos kerel gogyatar", my mother would say: and I do have good luck when I follow my instincts.
As I pop off my hard cast and put on my uniform, there is something that comes up on screen in our immediate area. It's small. Blue ice? (yuck.) Space junk again? But it's too slow...
It was definitely small, under two meters by under point five meters broke through the atmosphere and slowed. That made no sense. I figured it was two separate things that looked like it was one thing on the same path.
Plus it was too small for anyone to care about it. Trajectory placed it close, but sensors didn't have it hitting the ground. Odd.
Maybe something, maybe not, I figured.
Not that anyone's making any efforts to investigate, at least no one was talking about it when I was listening in. And at this point I was beyond intrigued. This was my investigation, my hunch; No one was going to stop me from being involved.
Well, if anything was there.
Either way: I decided to head out. Solo patrol. Awesome.
To Be Continued...
Thank you for reading and reviews always appreciated.
For those who haven't read me before, I try to explain what isn't everyday knowledge in my story; salient information above the story, less important but interesting facts afterward:
"A Kiss is Just a Kiss" is the unofficial title of "As Time Goes By", written by Herman Hupfeld in 1931, made famous as the song sung by the character Sam (portrayed by Dooley Wilson) in the 1942 film, Casablanca.
Colles Fracture: Is a common fracture of the wrist that one gets from bracing yourself when you fall down; it is a fracture of the end of the radius (the forearm bone on the thumb side of the hand). It has an obvious presentation clinically (extended and shortened wrist) and a unique way of being set (in a Colles splint - imagine that).
In the DC Comics, The Green Lanterns Corps are an intergalactic police force which keep peace throughout the universe, patrolling it as dictated by the Guardians, a race of immortals residing on the planet Oa. Oa in the center of the universe. There are 7200 GL's, two for each of the 3600 Sectors of the Universe. Each Green Lantern is given a power ring, controlled by the willpower of the wearer and it can form any weapon or construct the Lantern imagines. Guy Gardner is one of the human Green Lanterns and is rather surly.
In the DC Universe, the Vega Star System in 26 light years away. A light year of course is the time it takes for light to travel in one calendar year. It is roughly 6 trillion miles. Vega in Sector 2828 and our solar system in Sector 2814 in the Green Lantern titles.
In the real Universe, the Alpha Centauri System, and it's twin stars A and B (the majority of solar systems have two to three stars rather than our single one, Sol) are roughly 4.5 light years away.
"Bactarimos kerel gogyatar" - A likely horrible translation of Kalderish to English, meaning 'He has good luck when he uses his instincts'.