Part 1 - Before the Jobs

When he was born he was assuredly christened with a name, one that held the poise and respect that his parents had hoped for him, the type of name that would make people stop and give a second thought on what they would say to a person holding such an esteemed title. That's why when he first landed on these shores the first thing his boss did was call him the Greek freak on account of his large size and formidable presence, it was an honor in a way, but dehumanization seemed to be a rite of passage into this thing as he would soon find out.

"Ey, freak. Come 'ere I got something to tell you.", the shit-eating grin that was displayed on his boss' face was the kind that made him miss his homeland, but the opportunity that was being offered to him here, the promise of millions if it was all done properly, it was far too much to give up on just because he did not like his boss. Most people hated their bosses, and one that offered him such prosperity could afford to be annoying every once in a while.

"What do you ne-", he was snapped from his sentence with a gun being thrown into his hands. It was the first time he had ever seen such a piece of machinery in his life, and this one was much more imposing than others given its large size. "This here machine gun, freak, consider it a present. One you are going to use for me right now."

His boss was fairly low-level in the New York mob to the point where his name was not even worth mentioning by those above him. Most wouldn't even know that he operated an outfit as it was typically on such a small scale, mostly scams and petty theft, but this felt like something completely different; if his tone wasn't giving it away, the gun surely did.

Before more of an explanation on what was happening could be given, the sounds of gun-fire could be heard a very short distance away; in fact, it was so close that everyone in the room scrambled for some form of cover, with the greek being the very last to find anything to hid behind he had to settle for a small barrel that covered roughly twenty percent of his large mass. This was not the ideal situation for him to be in, especially given the fact that the pops and bangs seemed to be getting louder with every passing second as if at any moment the doors would swing open and bullets would search for meat as they whizzed in each direction.

"What the fuck do we do?"

"Just don't piss yourself."

While the two men discussed tactics in a way, the doors finally did indeed swing open. Instead of bullets, however, it was simply a large group of men that descended into the small room-- almost too many, as there seemed to be more of them at this point than there were of people under the boss's employment. Before anyone could speak, a single bullet met the boss to the head, and a few of his higher-ups were soon found to meet the same fate-- yet the greek seemed to be spared, at least for this very second.

"Who are these three?", one of them asked. "Low level, probably just shields. I've not seen any of 'em before.", another shouted from way in the back. "So what do we do with them?"

The conversation seemed to drag on as they discussed in vivid detail all of the things that they could do to put the freak and his associates on notice. Then there was a brief silence as a man walked up towards the Greek and inspected him for an awkwardly long amount of time, almost as if he was greatly savoring the time spent there.

"How long have you been working for Victor, kid?"

Stammering a little, he tried his hardest to respond stoically as not to give away the fact that he had most likely already pissed himself. "A-about six months, he took me in when I was fresh off the boat." the large wet spot gave away most of what he had attempted to hide, but the man didn't seem to worry too much about that and instead continued to take long pauses as if to be in deep thought.

"You picked the wrong man to start with, he owed a lot of people money. Was probably milking you for far more than he should have just to keep up with the debts. Have you done any jobs around these parts yet?" there was another shifty silence while the Greek decided to try thinking forward a few steps as not to fuck anything up.

"Jobs? Like, work? No... I've never done a job before. Outside of for my... former boss."

The less said, the better. He had done a bit of work here and there, but nothing substantial that could lead back to him. The man grabbed the greek freak's arms and gave them a squeeze, it was kind of weird but nothing that hadn't happened at least once before.

"You should give the jobs a try. Find yourself a proper family, one that can take care of you. Today was your lucky day because I require someone large and strong like you. For a single job, of course."

This part wasn't too complicated, as the other two men had just been disposed of moments before while the gentleman was speaking, he knew what would happen if he turned down the offer. It seemed innocent enough, at least, just a single job and then he was free to begin searching again for something new... maybe he would even leave New York and start fresh somewhere else, but no. 

The Big Apple would be his home for a very long time and learning about jobs would be what eventually landed him in the family of Dick Grayson, but first he would have to die... for a few seconds.

"What's your name anyhow, kid? 

"You can call me the freak, the Greek Freak."

Part 2 - The First Job

"MEN, GET READY. THIS IS IT..."

He really shouldn't have been trying to escape a hailstorm of bullets by running on the edge of a building, but when you're surrounded like he was it wasn't that easy to think on the fly. Yet because of this all it took was a single bullet, just one, to knock him right over that very edge that was supposed to protect him, and now he was plummeting three stories to his death.

"Wake up, we're almost there. You having a good dream?"

"Just thinking of all the different ways I could die, I suppose."

"Cheer up, we're just stealing some jewelry. Nothing too crazy should happen."

That right there is when the craziest thing happened...

Part 2 Cont. - The First Job

There were two men in a dimly lit room, one who had just been with Greek a few hours prior pulling off what was supposed to be a simple heist, and the other, a tall and lanky individual; the one who had saved him a few days ago from what should have been his swift and painless death, the kind of luxury that he would be dreaming for right about now.

"So I sent that guy into the job you asked me to, the one you said you didn't want them to come back from. Why not just kill him and get it over with when you had the chance? Why this whole 'job' business?"

The smaller man posed the question in the most polite way possible as to not upset his boss, the crazed man who ran a middling operation on the outskirts of New York-- the Greek couldn't seem to get away from these big fish in small pond types. That would all change soon, of course, but for now, it all felt so impossible to him.

"It has been a boring few weeks. I needed something to amuse myself, so tell me then, what happened?"

His shakes were obscured just enough that the handler did not see it coming, the person much smaller in stature pulled out a gun and painted the wall in front of him with the blood and brains of his now-former boss. This business moved quickly, and that one simple job that was made for the amusement of one man would now act as his demise.

Part 2.5 - What Actually Happened

"Wake up, we're almost there. You havin' a good dream?"

"Just thinking of all the different ways I could die, I suppose."

"Cheer up, we're just stealing some jewelry. Nothing too crazy should happen."

That right there is when the craziest thing happened, the car spun out of control and both the short man and the Greek Freak both held tightly to their seats as they could feel themselves flying through the air. What would happen when the car landed was anyone's guess at this point, but for now all that either of them could think about was how this could be their last ride... and then, there was silence. No large explosion or loud sounds, it was as if the car itself had landed atop a cloud or a pillow; the doors on both sides opened and the Freak kicked himself out of the wreckage. Bleeding a little from his head, he was home free, but the guilt of leaving someone to die consumed him and so he ran back and dragged out the short man.

It would take a few minutes, but eventually, he would wake up and stare directly at the Freak. His worried eyes glazed over a few times until finally, he realized what had just happened. Being saved by the person you were tasked to kill takes a toll on your mental state, and having shards of glass in your ass will do terrible things for your physical. 

"So, what is your name?" the Greek asked as he plucked the glass from out of his new friend's body. 

"I am Edgar, and what is yours?" before the pleasantries could continue there was a loud rumble from the car and then a small explosion, it wasn't nearly as loud as he had expected it to be, but the fireball that was now consuming the sky would have surely done a number on both of them had they not moved away from it.

Deciding that it would be best to continue their conversation elsewhere, both the Greek and Edgar stood up and in great haste made their way to an underpass that would act as some form of cover. Deciding now that he was in some sort of debt to the Freak, everything was explained to him in vivid detail-- from the fact that this job was a suicide mission meant to end in his assured death, all the way to the location that his boss operated out of.

The deal was then struck, Edgar would kill his boss and allow the petty thief to escape under cover of the night. Once it was all set in motion, he headed out on his own, once again not belonging to anyone. All of this excitement almost made him forget that his car was just hit, and he would finally be given a reason as to why and by who, as a large van pulled up beside him.

"Fuck, can nothing be easy in this country?"

As if to answer his question, two men dressed in pure gold hopped from out of the car and grabbed him by both arms. It took a lot of extra work for them to force him into the car, but eventually with enough maneuvering and fighting; and also hitting him in the back of the head with a butt of a gun, they were able to coerce him inside.

Edgar was too far away now to help him, having already left to go handle his agreement. This left him in quite a precarious situation, but as with everything that he would go through in these early days, every situation had a way out. Once the hood was taken off of his head and his eyes fought with the light for a few seconds, he was able to take in just how dire this situation truly was.

"Welcome. Make yourself at home."

Part 3 - Welcome Home

Welcome Home

When the Greek would sit there in his home late at night in his twilight years and reminisce about his childhood and the origins of how he came to lead such a complicated life, the stint he spent in the House would be one of the most transformative times and yet one that he would never revisit; not even in memory, as it would burn the will to live right out of him if he wasn't careful. Even here and today, not much could be explained about what he experienced or saw, but the fact that it changed his trajectory could not be overstated. 

"Are you alright, man?"

"Is he dead?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to poke him."

"Why in the fuck would you..."

Before their conversation could end in a poke or otherwise, the large lumbering hulk of a man opened his eyes and let out a small guttural roar that could be heard for at least a dozen yards away from the pile of garbage he was currently resting on. His height was massively disproportionate to the two arguing lads that stood right beside him, but their eyes seemed to be focused more on the jewelry behind him rather than him.

"Is that... yours?" 

"What d'ya mean is it his? He was laying on it."

"What's that mean? You never slept on something that wasn't yours?"

Their conversation was altogether unimportant to the Freak that was more focused on finding out how he made it away from those men who had kidnapped him and less on their constant bickering. When he walked away from the situation, both of them took it as a sign that they were free to do whatever they wanted to the pile of riches hidden in with the garbage. Their happy yips and haws could be heard by the Greek Freak even when he made it two blocks away and to a building that he faintly remembered; why did he end up back here out of all places? Did his own mind know something that it was barring even from him? He'd never heard of amnesia before, but at this very moment he was experiencing it in spades.

Stepping over some police tape and pushing open a door that was riddled in bullet holes, he made his way back into the building that he worked in all of those months ago, before the raid and many weeks trapped with people that he thankfully could not remember anymore; the only memories were marks and scars on his body, but those were easier to ignore than thought would be. Sitting down on the last chair in the building, and coincidentally the only thing without any bullet holes, he looked down at the dirty ground and placed both of his hands onto his head. 

How did things get so complicated?

Knowing that there would never be an answer that pleased him, he stood back up and brushed off his now dusty body. He would need to more forward or else get stuck in the past, which was just not an option for someone who came to the land with nothing and refused to leave without having absolutely everything. Again there were noises just outside of the house, and the Greek decided that instead of sitting here in his own filth that he would go investigate.

That's when he found his very first job-- one that would be for his eventual Crew Leader, DickGrayson. Walking towards the man that was kicking up quite the fuss, he noticed that they were attempting to do something, but what? His inquisitive mind couldn't help but give it a closer inspection.

"Whoa-- who, who the hell are you? You scared me! I've not seen anyone around this place in a few months now, so why in the hell would yous be here? I'm about to send you to hell if you don't answer in the next five seconds!" 

"I do not know why I am here. I do not remember, but I want to leave and you are going to let me."

"Now who in the hell do you think you are? I don't have to let you do anything!" the man had a proclivity for the word hell, and his brain didn't seem to be all the way there, but there had to be a way to leave this chance meeting without the need for any sort of blood shed or further argument. That's when he slowly reached into his pocket, which had been jingling every few minutes as he walked, and pulled out what he had hoped was a gun.

"Wow-ee! That's shiny as hell! Can I have it?" while it wasn't the route that the Greek expected; that surely wasn't a bad thing, and so he quickly handed over the necklace that looked to be studded in diamonds and sighed a breath of relief, looking around to see if there was anyone else around that he could pawn this crazy man off on, he didn't seem to have much luck.

"This is a mighty fine necklace. I think I'll give it to my dog! Say, have you been around Brooklyn for very long? I like you, and I don't wanna see you slumming it in run-down houses like this hell-hole! You should go over to them Titans and see if they're still looking for people." 

While this old man was the last person he would have expected to receive good advice from, every broken clock is right once per day and this adage seemed to be very apt right about now. The Freak would follow his advice and make his way to the Titans headquarters, where the first day of his life would begin.

Part 4 - Titans