Shadow Preachers ▸Titans

Chapter 2

"Jesus Christ."

The phone bounced off the couch and landed on the floor when Noa threw it in the opposite direction. She glared at the device for a few seconds before leaning over to pick it up. Dick had muttered something about being home by midnight as he shuffled out the door that morning. For some reason, seeing the small hand on the clock tick past the number one caused her stomach to turn. She had the courtesy to wait until it was half-past-twelve to start calling him, but the more she called without an answer, the more worried she became. She stood from the stiff couch and began pacing the width of the living room. She waited for the minutes to tick by until she deemed it appropriate to call Dick again.

On the surface, Noa realized there wasn't much to be worried about in his new life. He'd supposedly given up the Robin mantle a year ago and never went back. Unfortunately, no matter how many times she told herself that, she couldn't ease the panic that was twisting in her stomach. It reminded her too much of the time in Gotham when she wasn't old enough to join Bruce and Dick out on the streets. She'd wait hours for them to return home safe and sound. At least back then she knew Robin would always have Batman to watch his back. If Dick wanted to go out now, he'd have to do it completely alone.

"Maybe that's what he wanted all along," Noa thought to herself.

Without giving herself the time to think it through, she retrieved her suitcase from where she'd hidden it underneath Dick's bed and pulled out her Halo uniform. Laying it on the couch, she started to undress.

The front door opened as Noa went to unbutton her pants, her shirt already lying on the couch. She instantly realized why Dick had gotten home late. The obvious spots of blood on his face and hands left very little to her imagination. Her confusion quickly turned to anger as he stared back at her.

"You fucking hypocrite."

"Noa—"

She didn't give him time to finish his plea. Picking her shirt off the couch, she chucked it across the living room, hitting him square in the face. "You're a lying piece of shit, you know that?"

With a sigh, he threw the piece of clothing back to her. "Can you put that on, please?"

"Fuck you," Noa said, her voice still dripping with animosity.

"Noa, please."

"It's nothing you haven't seen before, Dick. Or, did you forget about that, too?"

"I—"

"Let me jog your memory then. We screwed that night and when I woke up, you were gone. When I finally worked up the courage to give you a call, you told me, and I quote, 'I'll never put the suit on again as long as I live.'" She huffed a breath. "Guess I shouldn't be completely shocked, though. Like Bruce always said; a man never changes, they only get better at lying."

"Noa, will you please let me explain."

"You don't need to, Dick. Don't you know by now that I get it?" Noa asked, finally pulling her shirt on over her head. Slowly, she began pacing the length of the couch. "You put on the suit to go after some scum-of-the-earth dirt bag who was positively guilty of committing some heinous crime. You beat the crap out of them to make sure they never do it again. Maybe there was a child involved or a mother or just some innocent victim, I don't know. What I do know is how you felt because I've been in that position countless times. The only difference now is that you're suddenly trying to convince yourself that we're wrong for doing it."

Dick slammed his suitcase on the kitchen table. "We are!"

Noa stopped mid-step to peer over at him. His eyebrows were knitted together tight and his lips formed a taught line as if he was trying to hold back whatever words caught in his throat. It was only when he looked at Noa that the tension eased. "We always were, but Bruce... he was really good at convincing us that weren't."