Author's Note: So I thought I would give a long one because of how long its been. I would have rather made this a lot shorter by simply telling the moment as something that happened, rather than as a story. Do you know what I mean by that? But if I used the story option, I could express more emotion. I may redo this one because it deals with a strong issue: the outside reflects who we are. So if you have any thoughts let me know. Thank you for reading!

Uniforms: Those Loud Colors

(Version 1)

Eyes wide, pupils shaking, irises glossing under the span of light from the overhead lamp, he looks deep into his reflection. It is handsome. It is somber. It is sad. In the stillness of the moment, he gazes down the mirror: the purple DOOM PATROL jumpsuit replaced by a thick layer of black leather wrapped around his form. That's all it is: a black layer of leather.

"My name is Rita, child. Oh, please stay awake for me."

He catches glimpses of sight: the open night sky, swinging to her, then back to the sky. In her arms, he swings to see the night sky once more, then peaks to the ground... all goes black. Soon, the sky emerges once more from the cloud of black fog swirling between his empty thoughts. Her hold on him clasping tighter as she runs, she looks back down to him. Out cold once more. Fear hurts her, makes her desperate, she to increase her speed unitl his eyes weakly open once more. He looks back back to her, her mouth unhinged, hastily gulping down air, high above him... then back to black.


His voice hinges weakly as he peeks over his shoulder and down his back, those solemn eyes soon drooping to the floor. "I don't think I zipped the back up right."

None answer. The cheery purples, the dull blues and navies, and the lively reds, bright greens, and blinding yellows are loud, overlapped in neat, folded piles, although the five are not. Arms slinging around their waists, they slouch, shoulder blades high, no longer able to recognize who stares back in the reflections.

Uniforms were meant to unify—to unite. Usually, teams bounded themselves together by wearing in the same colors in which they often wore in pride. Pride in unity is what they stood for. By this principal, the public questioned why the Titans had rejected the idea of uniforms in the past. Last week after the brutal retaliations dealt by the press, they remained silent in the security of their own home, all seated upon the couch as if the option did not exist. Words went unsaid; however, they did not need to be.

With the courage brought by a deep breath, her eyes peep from her shoulder now turning to the center. Her long purple boots draping from her shoulder, she makes her way to Garfield, now slouched against the tall mirror's feet, his small fingers swirling his mix of clothes upon the floor. She manages a smile—faint, but assuring—and taps the zipper, fixing it back into place.

"It's supposed to stretch as I do." His voice is weak—solemn. His eyes flooding to the floor, he does not meet her. "…but it still feels like I am in a wetsuit..."

"I am afraid the wetsuit feel comes with the fabric, friend Beast Boy."

It's tight, scale-like. By its look, it was easy to move around in. A black hood unfolded from the neckline, scooping down to the back as it fell. In the flash of the light, pride's color, gold, that encases the noble "T" pinned upon the chest shines. In addition, a pristine golden belt clasps around the waist.

Choking, he speaks up, "Do you feel uncomfortable?"

Slightly sighing under the blanket of silence, she slowly runs her hands down her frame, feeling her curves that carve into her body and the black fabric that exposed its shape, presenting it like a highlight against the white wall. "On Tamaran," she begins, fingers still fidgeting with her friend's collar, "purple is the color of righteousness, strength, and justice, as well as royalty. Warriors wrap themselves in these colors for bravery while the brave fight in their bare selves. Black is a forbidden color. Oh," she pauses, "I am afraid I feel much farther from home." She stutters, "d-due to these clothes."

Well, don't wear it." He whispers, shaking his head.

"Rita? What's wrong?" Mento runs to her, the two others behind him, they to be suddenly hit by the image of the green child in her arms. Perplexed, they become.

"Mento. This child. I-I" She gulps down a breath. "He needs help. Blankets? Warmth? Do we have any blankets?"

"Lawrence. Get the emergency fire blanket in the OPS Room!" Mento order, Lawrence to be handed the child from Rita's arms and to run into the depths of the base. "Rita, who is that child? Why is he green? And where did you find him."

"By section seventeen *huff* in jungle. Parents dead. Too young to be by himself," she gasps for air, hands upon her knees. "Hurt. Knocked against the outlook's rocks. Fought off a cat."

"A cat?!"

"Powerful kid," she straightens her back to look her leader in the eyes as the sweat drips down her face, her expression scared, shrouded in angst. "Green for nature. Shape-shifter like me. Only into animals." Into her eyes he looks, her thoughts to overflow into his no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

'He needs help. No. He needs help. He needs help. No. He needs help. He could be a part of the team. No. He could help us. Like we help him. He could help us. He needs help. We need help. He is like us. He is like me. Please, he needs help.'

"Mento!" Lawrence emerges, hushing the moment into stillness, and sets down the small child in DOOM PATROL's uniform, waking from his sleep state. "Blankets are gone. All we have is this spare uniform."

Intently, Beast Boy watches Cyborg, his paces so slow and steady, join the he and Starfire in the mirror.

"It stretches alright." Cyborg crosses his arms, back upright, firm, and strong.

"You look most wonderful, Cyborg." Starfire smiles.

"That's the metal pieces." He drives his chin to his shoulder, the cold of it seeping through the fabric. "In this get up, I look strong, bulked—like a human. Well, except for this side of my face. The leather masks what's truly missing." He swallows his breath.

"Nothing's missing." Raven steps in, her face stoic, mouth in the form of a straight line, brows pushed upward. Her hands bundle and clench the hood around her neck as he elbows drop to her chest. "There's a hood." Her voice hinges. "Like mine…at least."

"…nothing is missing…" Starfire murmurs. Slowly, her chin rises, her eyes to meet her reflection once more. Then, she nods to her Cyborg friend. "…nothing is missing…"

Into the depths of his reflection, Beast Boy looks once more, pushing down the memories that choke his mind. Together, the four turn in towards each other, and then out to face their leader. He is quiet—hasn't spoken since the hour's beginning. Although his back is turned, his emotion is as loud as the colors scattered upon the floor now. In his mirror, he meets their gaze, following it to his chest and to the red tunic in his arms. To them, he carries it like a wounded child. His arms are wide open, draped in Robin's attire of red, yellow, and green. His shoulder blades are high and aligned with his feet that stand two feet apart as he slouches.

Head held high, Robin retrieves a brave voice, meeting the others in the mirror. "…nothing is missing…" And to the wounded child in his arms, he looks. Beast Boy's eyes widen.

"How does it fit?" Her voice is most kind. She sits on her knees so that she can match his small height, smiling to assure him of her friendliness. In the uniform, his is bold and quite dashing. Mento towers over the two, looking down at the child with hesitance, still able to manage an intimidating scowl. The child beckons.

"I really like the purple." His voice is shy, but cute, winding up as his eyes rise to meet the team that stands before him.

"What's your name?" Mento speaks.

"Uh...Beast!" He's a bad liar.

"Well... Beast..." Mento scorns, parting his team as he turns away. "I am afraid we cannot be with an imposter, so until we know your name we—"

"Wait!" Beast hesitates, fastening his hands awkwardly around his waist. He stands insecure, afraid. "...I'm a maybe Beast is name..."

"You certainly don't look like a monster."

"I can change into any animal. Doesn't that make me a beast?"

"Show me."

And to the team of four, the beast-like boy shifted into the cat he fought with the week before. The boy stretches away, his cute cheeks becoming whiskers attached into an awful snarl, sharp with fangs, his small legs and body growing in tremendous length. All four are strong. His massive body eclipses Rita's while the tail lashes through the air like an excited whip. To Mento, he looks, and then proceeds to where he stands. His arms cross as if pleased although his expression does not hint it. Before him, the beast sits in adherence. Eye to eye, Mento is with the yellow-eyed beast.

As the memory of the recent tragedy makes contact to Mento's mind, he beckons back wearing a solemn expression. The child shifts down back into the size of the boy.

"Garfield, is it?"

"I would prefer another name."

"I understand." Mento's mind flashes to the child's memories. "Wear this uniform, Beast Boy. It will protect you so you no longer have to think about what has happened. The purple here is the future. It's light, cheery. Always keep that in mind. Here, the black represents the grave past. Your uniform wears it so you don't have to. Understood?"

CRACK! Four jump! Shards fall from the frame of the mirror, carrying pieces of the Titans' reflection to the ground, clanking as they shatter into dust. They whip around to see a still Garfield ready to throw another box by the gesture of his hand. He slings it over his head.

"Oh something is definitely missing." He sneers in the thick blanket of silence.

"That mirror was missing Raven, Cyborg, Starfire, and Robin. I am missing. Look at this reflection." He points to another mirror, the four others to follow into the reflection. "Where's DOOM PATROL? I can't find them in this leather...I can't find the moment I joined their team...the moment I first transformed into a Rex"

"It's just a uniform, Beast Boy." Raven comments.

"Let him speak," Robin ensures.

"You see? It's much more than that. Raven, I can't see myself. Where's the goofiness? I used to wear a stupid mask. What can remind me of that? What can remind me of DOOM PATROL in this get up? I can't even find Azarath in you. Yes, you have a hood... but where's the cape? The boots?"

To his question, her gaze descends to the floor. Insecure, she rubs her wrists.

"I do not have Tamaran in me as well."

"Now, look at me!" Playfully, Beast Boy struts to another mirror, hands gripping the sides of the leather suit like a child trying to get out of his church clothes. "...Nah... this not me... that's what is missing, guys. Ha-ha! Look! I am hot! I look sexy in this leather. And you guys do too!" He spits out his tongue, "Bleh." Furiously, he runs his hands to his hair, it to grow into a haystack. Chin rising, he flips his hair and gives a wink to the mirror.

"Ha-ha! You're not finished yet, green bean!" Cyborg tackles him to the floor. "You need the goofy expression. This wise talking isn't you either."

"You wanna go, bro?" Beast Boy bites into the fun.

"Let me fight the elephant! Bring on the elephant!"

Laughing, Beast Boys shifts to the animal, stretching that black suit to ridiculous limits, it to be no more than a thin layer of a cloth strapped around the green elephant.

"Boys! You will rip it!" Raven warns.

And it happened... she averts her eyes before the explosion of black leather. In little pieces, it sprinkles like black snow onto the boy left in his underwear. Red cheeked, he rejoices, dancing like a child in the snow. In a fit of happiness, he slides to the ground, wraps his arms around his own clothes, and tosses them to the air. Those loud colors—the cheery purples, the dull blues and navies, and the lively reds, bright greens, and blinding yellows—soar through the air with each throw. A blast of electric blue and Cyborg's suit shoots into the air, revealing his true self: metal and all.

"Take this, friend!" Starfire blasts her pile of clothing to the boys.

"Hey!" Raven's forces a field to rise, sparing herself from the up-splash of clothes.

And it happened, the room erupted into a fight, battled with colorful clothing flying left, right, up, down, to, and fro. Loud colors drowned the loud room! Through the piles of abundant clothing, the Titans rolled, threw the black to the air, tackled another into messes, and laughed like children. Uniforms were torn, clothes were switched, and mirrors were shattered. In forts, they sequestered to find a moment to breath. By the hour's end, the five found themselves lying on another, watching the remaining pieces of cloth peacefully glide through the air.

Beast Boy somehow found himself Raven's leotard (his boxer poking out underneath), Robin's cape, and some beanie he found on the floor, Cyborg in Robin's mask, Raven's cape, and shreds of the black suit tied around his legs, Raven unwillingly strapped in Beast Boy's DOOM PATROL shirt as well as Starfire's top and gloves along with Robin's gold belt, Starfire in her mini skirt, Robin's shirt, an ugly green hat, and Raven's boots, and Robin in Star's belt securing DOOM PATROLS' pants while his green gloves remained on his hands. In addition, strips of the remaining suit strapped to his chest.

"So what should I tell them?" Robin asks, crushing Beast Boy underneath.

"A 'no' would be most appropriate." Starfire chimes from next to Cyborg.

"Yeah. Not like we have anything to return though" Raven agrees.

"Yep." Cyborg laughs.

"Yeah." Beast Boy smiles at the DOOM PATROL gloves he managed to save. "A no to the uniforms would be 'most' appropriate."

Author's Note: So I thought I would give a long one because of how long its been. I would have rather made this a lot shorter by simply telling the moment as something that happened, rather than as a story. Do you know what I mean by that? But if I used the story option, I could express more emotion. I may redo this one because it deals with a strong issue: the outside reflects who we are. So if you have any thoughts let me know. Thank you for reading!