"What are you thinking about?" Rob Zombie Living Dead Girl
First off, I just wanted to say thanks to all my readers, for their loyalty, and waiting patiently while I finished Starting Over. That really did mean a lot to me. I have been asked repeatedly by people through anonymous messages signed ;), to write a macabre Teen Titans story featuring Raven and Robin. I am willing to work with you, because you have requested and I will deliver. Now, for the disclaimer; I do not own the Teen Titans, or the lyrics that this work is based around. Now that that is out of the way, sit back and enjoy.
Take it Easy, -N.
He couldn't believe that she was gone. She meant so much to everyone and now, she was dead, and here he was, attending her funeral service. He couldn't even believe how it had happened. It wasn't like she was killed by Slade, or that one of their enemies had finally gotten lucky enough to bring her down, no, it was a person who was too drunk to stand up, much less be behind the wheel of a car.
He would never forget that night. They had gone out to celebrate her birthday, the big 21, something she was finally free to look forward to, now that her father was truly gone, locked away in some hell dimension for all time. So, so it being her birthday, they had all agreed that she chose where they went, what they did, and who they'd be doing it with; naturally, that didn't fly with the others.
The first shocker was how she had dressed. They had all expected to see her in her usual outfit; black leotard, boots and cloak. That day, she was sporting a black leather skirt, a skirt! And not just any skirt, a leather one that fell to mid-thigh. He remembered what had happened when Kori had tried to get her to wear one years ago; they had spent over two months replacing all the windows and fried electronics that her little outburst had caused. Her boots had been replaced by three inch stilettos that made her legs seem much taller than he remembered, but what was icing on the cake was the shirt she was wearing. It was a simple wife-beater, proclaiming in black letters, 'Screw Stacy's Mom; I've got it going on!' He knew then that the day was going to be, at the very least interesting.
When they had gotten over her new attire, the problems seemed to start in full force. Gar had complained about the food she ordered for them at her favorite restaurant. He'd be lying though if he said that watching him trying to swallow something that was cut from some critter wasn't entertaining. When it came time for them to go to the club she had always wanted to visit but they never did, the guy had the nerve to demand that they try and find something less 'Raven'. Kori, still smiling, had begged and pleaded that she be allowed to go home one hour in; her reason being that the crowd and the music of the club was moving her well out of her comfort zone. Even Vic had wanted to leave, worried about leaving his car alone in the neighborhood, afraid that someone would be stupid enough to try and do something to the vehicle. He could see the anger boiling in her eyes at them, and it was only after pouring a couple of drinks down their throats that he had managed to convince them to stay.
As for Raven though, when it had come time to leave, at closing time mind you, they had to physically remove her because of how badly she wanted to stay and, quote the dark bird, "keep partying". While they were there, she had insisted that he dance every song with her, and when they were leaving, she had pinned him to the wall, simply stating that, "she wanted her birthday kiss, now". He knew it was the booze talking, that she would have never acted that way if she was sober. Still though, he had willingly obliged her, and after they parted, his head almost exploded when she pulled off the wall and wrapped her arms around him.
"Rick, there are two very important things that you need to know about me tonight." At her statement, he laughed; he couldn't believe that she was acting this way. Raven, the most stone-faced person he had ever met, who it was a personal victory to make smile on any type of occasion, was acting like any other 'buzzed' girl in the city; flirty and approachable. She would make his life hell for months, if not years when she found out about this, but it would be worth it. If anything, it would give him something to smile about later.
"And what would that be?" When he cocked his head to the side, she giggled causing his grin to turn into a full blown smirk. It was nice to see her like this, but still, he knew it wasn't right. When she sobered up, he knew she would hate his guts, but right now, it was too hard not to flirt and play along with her. It wasn't often she could be partnered with this word, but the way Raven was acting made her look well, cute. No, desirable.
"First, contrary to popular belief, I never lock my bedroom door at night," she pulled his face to her so that he was forced to stare at her, and he saw her eyes glowing with something he couldn't quite identify. "And secondly," she jumped into his arms wrapping her legs around his waist and ignoring the laughs from their friends, gently rubbed her pelvis against his. "I'm not wearing any underwear tonight." She slowly climbed off of him then, and almost purposely walked away, with a slight pop in her hips. He couldn't help but stare. That was when the night went straight to hell.
If he hadn't been thinking about what she had said, what she was offering, he would have seen the silver Lincoln. Instead, he watched horrified, as it slammed her across the pavement. He could do nothing but move towards her as she flopped across the road. Dimly, he remembered seeing the car come to stop on top of a fire hydrant and the man rolling himself out of the vehicle. He was finally running when her body came to a halt. With a gentle urgency, he lifted her into his arms, and saw that their friends could only stare at what had just happened. Ignoring the blood that was slowly pooling around him, he held her close. She was gone, he knew that, and he was to blame. He did something then that he swore he would never to again in his life. Something that he had promised he would never do since his parents were laid into the ground. He held the small broken bundle close, not bothering to hide the tears, refusing to let her go even as the police arrived to take her away.
As he stood over her now though, he was shocked that she looked so peaceful. In life, she was always so withdrawn, so forlorn. It was like she didn't know any other way to live since she had freed herself from her father. Now though, she looked truly calm, like people always say at these stupid things, she really did look like she was sleeping. He found himself staring at her, her hair combed, washed, and styled perfectly around her face; you would have never known that her skull was caved in from striking the concrete so many times. Her skin, it was always pale, but now had an almost ghostly white tone to it. The dress she wore seemed to only make it worse. For a moment he laughed, knowing that were she still around, she would have never allowed them to put her inside it. Then, reality struck him, she really was dead. And the white strapless number that fell over her body only seemed to remind him of what she looked like at the morgue.
He was the only one brave enough to have gone to claim her body. Victor was withdrawn, that was to be expected. He treated Raven like the sister he never had. When she had died, he just stood in shock over them. Even when he screamed for the man to get help, he had just stood there, frozen in disbelief that such a thing had happened. Garfield, he didn't even come out of his room after it had happened. He had been crushing on Raven for years, but she had repeatedly told him, she only liked the guy as a friend. When it happened, he had knelt beside him, crying. Kori, she had been the worse. When it happened, she seemed to refuse to believe that Raven was gone. The girl cried non-stop for days, saying that Raven would be back and that she would wake up and everything would be as it once was. As for him, he had gone to collect her from the hospital, to bring her home where she belonged.
When he had arrived, he gagged on the stench of the bleach and formaldehyde. They had placed her in a separate area away from all the others. They had cleaned her, and he was grateful when they asked if he wanted a few moments alone. As he stood by her, fingering the paper sheet they had pulled up over the incisions, he did what he wished he could have done to her in life. With a shaking hand, he traced her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin was. It was then that he again lost it, the legendary self-control that the city envied him for having. He screamed as he tore the room apart. Tools flew through the air and tables were tipped over. He slammed himself against the tiled walls, and punched his reflection in the mirrors, damning himself for not being able to do something that night. Whenever a nurse or doctor tried to come in to stop him, he screamed for them to leave, and they willingly complied. When it was over, the walls were cracked and all the glass was broken; he sobbed quietly at her side, ignoring the blood pouring from his hands. "You can't be gone. Raven you just can't be fucking gone. The team, we need you." I need you.
As he walked away from her and took his seat with the others, he couldn't stop thinking about the events that led up to this moment. When the mayor lifted his bulk off the chair he sat at, Richard couldn't help but feel disgust at his words. The man spoke of how she was loved by the community, at how everyone understood and cared for her, how he even thought of her as his daughter and how she would be missed. How Raven was the little sister to everyone in the city, and that they all felt their loss. He figured that maybe the bit about her being missed was true. She was almost unstoppable in a fight; no matter how bad it was, her gifts always gave them the edge they needed to win. Everything else the man said though, those were lies. Everyone knew it; he was just the only one willing to admit it.
When she wasn't fighting to save their precious city, the people ostracized her. They gave her a wide berth, as if she had some sort of fatal disease. Even amongst the team, she was treated differently, like they were afraid that she would finally give in to her dark urges and kill them all. He was the only one that ever greeted her openly. Who would always ask how she was doing and genuinely mean it. He was the one who would listen to her frustrations, would go the extra mile to make her feel wanted, and most importantly, provide the shoulder that she frequently needed to cry on. That was the one thing he regretted though, that he had gotten himself stuck in the 'friend zone' with her.
He watched then as each of his remaining teammates rose and said a few words about how they would miss her. They spoke true, he knew that much. About how they loved her, and how they would miss her, that they were saddened by her untimely demise. But still, how could they give up on her so easily! She had died before and come back, this would be no different. She just needed some help this time, that's all.
When it came time for him to speak, he didn't hesitate at what he had to say. "You all make me sick," he made sure to gaze into the crowd, at their shocked and disgusted faces. He knew she would have been angry at him for taking pleasure at their reactions, but still though, it felt good to be calling them out. "You all act like you were her closest friends, that you understood her best. But that is the biggest load of horse shit I have ever heard. Unless she was busy protecting your precious city, you wanted nothing to do with her. I cannot begin to tell you how many times she wished that she could just die, so that she wouldn't have to deal with your staring. Well, now she's gone, and this," he waved his arms at the countless roses and lilies, the pictures and lit candles, even the news reporters who were covering the service. He stopped gesturing then to point his hand at the gaudy ice-sculpture the city council had commissioned of her. "This three-ring circus, this travesty, is at an end. Just leave, and let her rest in peace," for the time being. He turned away from the crowd, ignoring their grumbling and went into the crypt. With a shaking hand, he touched that flawless face once more, and with a shove, slid the lid in place.
The others had filed in behind him, hearing the stone scream into place. Victor was the only one who spoke; he was the person who had no problem saying what needed to be said. He was always grateful for the man's ability to break the silence; this time though, this time was not one of them. "Rob, Richard, man, I know that you're upset she's gone," he barked out a laugh. That is the understatement of the freaking century.
"You cannot even begin to understand what I am feeling right now Cy." He was chuckling now, but really didn't care. Let them think he was crazy. He could deal with that. What he couldn't live with at the moment, was all of them there. They presence was stifling, and he needed to be alone, with her. She just couldn't be gone, she had to be back. Life wasn't life when she was gone; it was like some sick cosmic joke. "You want to know how I feel." He turned from where her body sat to the others. They all were standing close to each other, as if taking strength from the other's presence. In their eyes he could see the sadness and mourning for Raven as well as the concern they felt for him. It was to be expected, he figured; he was acting anything but normal. How would he react if one of them were acting the way he was?
"I feel like I failed her. Not just that, 'I should have been able to save her,' kind of failed her. I'm talking about the kind of failure that includes not talking to her ore, or getting to know her better. Hell, I even mean the kind of failure like 'not taking her out on a single fucking date.' I failed her as a friend and a human being. Hell, we failed her!" He looked at them all, and was slightly pleased when they hung their heads. Out of shame or guilt, he didn't really care. Just so long as they started to feel an iota of what he was suffering through.
He turned away and knelt down before her stone. He needed to think, and she always helped him with that. She gave him insight, and helped him dissect his problem. She helped him looked at his situation from all the angles, not just his one singular train of thought. "Rob, we gotta get going, we're going to miss the wake." He didn't even acknowledge the statement with a noise, he just pointed at them to leave. If they wanted to give up on her, fine, he could figure this out alone. He wasn't done yet. He had walked into hell to get her back. Bringing her back from the dead actually seemed like it would be much easier to accomplish than his previous endeavor. For now though, he just needed to think.
He didn't know how long he had kneeled before her. His body was sore, but he didn't care. She was gone, that was all that mattered now. He knew he would figure out how to get her back, he just couldn't think of it, yet. Sleep was pointless; he knew he would see her face then, that she would haunt him with promises of how she loved him that she would give herself to him. Then he would wake up, and the cold painful reality would set in, and she would still be gone. He wasn't even sure if he was still awake, everything seemed to blur around the question in his mind, 'How can I get her back?'
He didn't care that another person joined him at his silent vigil. He was just grateful that they had not acknowledged him, that they cared enough to place a single rose on the white marble, and to not break silence with useless words and meaningless sobs. Then he felt it, the figure beside him placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hello Richard." The voice rang out like a blade against a whetstone; cold and precise, always to the point. He would never not know who that was.
He didn't even feel the urge to fight, she was gone, that was the only thing he cared about; attacking the man who had caused him countless amounts of grief seemed meaningless. He wasn't even surprised that the man was still alive. He could still be dead for all he knew, that the person before him was just his mind messing with him, again. Still though, it felt nice to know that even one's most hated enemy would respectfully attend their funeral. "Slade," he turned back to the sealed stone, willing it to open, for her to rise and tell him that this was her first and only attempt at humor but knew it wouldn't. "Thanks for coming." Tearing himself away from his vigil, he turned and looked the man over.
If Slade hadn't spoken, Richard would have never known it was his most hated rival. The armor was gone and replaced with a plain black suit. Even his mask was gone, a mane of white hair and a single blue eye stared back. Even as he mourned the loss of Raven, he couldn't help but think that this was probably the only time he would ever have a remote chance of beating the man. No, respect Raven; wait til he's outside the gates. Then bust his skull in.
"Richard, stop skulking around, we both know that she wouldn't stand for it." He laughed; the most evil person he had ever met was telling him how to act, was saying that he knew the woman he cared about more than him. It was absurd. And probably true.
"Well then, what should I do?"
"Move on with your life. There is nothing you can do, and you know that she would be disgusted to know that you are spending your life mourning in front of a stone."
"There has to be something." He turned back to the rock, and the hand returned, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, something that could possibly be interpreted as compassion. He heard the footsteps recede then, but still, the voice seemed to remain, to echo in the halls.
"My boy, I know many things, but even I don't know how to raise the dead. Something like that would take a deal with the devil." 'A deal with the devil.' He thought about it, and it didn't seem so bad. Except, he wouldn't be making a deal. If he was going to do this, he would be taking, not dealing. He wouldn't promise anything in exchange, he would take what he wanted, and that particular devil would be grateful that he let him live.
"Richard?"
Yes, it would be simple, he would call the creature, and get the information that he wanted, forcefully if necessary.
"Richard, what are you thinking about?"
He turned then, and realized that he was standing. Raising a hand to his face, he felt the light stubble on his skin, and figured he had to have been there for at least one day. The sun was down, and he could see the moon glowing brightly in the sky, casting shadows on the stones and crypts. He couldn't help but think that, in a dark way, it was almost beautiful, the stark white and black against each other. She would appreciate the view. "Richard?"
He turned; half-expecting to see Slade standing beside him, but instead it was Kori, still wreathed in black and puffy-eyed from the service however many days ago.
"Hey," he turned away from her and walked out of the chamber. When she followed, he sealed the room, giving the tomb one last look as the door slid shut. He stopped for a moment, listening to the locks spinning into place. They would be easy enough to hack and open, he hadn't lived as the apprentice of the world's greatest detective and escape artist without learning a few things. The two walked in silence, and when they reached the gates, she spoke again.
"Are you all right Richard?" It was then that he smiled; it felt like he hadn't done it in centuries. He noticed her discomfort at the smirk he wore. He figured, let her wonder, he had a plan and wanted to get it done. As soon as possible.
"I'm just fine Kori," she followed him to his motorcycle, and seemed uneasy, and again spoke.
"What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing," he slammed the kick start down hard, and with a vengeance away from the cemetery. "Nothing you have to worry about." He headed towards one of the city's storage lockers. Years ago, he had found an object that would've protected the team, if he had ever had cause to use it. When he found out about Raven's heritage, he was grateful that he had found it. Richard knew it would have killed him to use it against her, but he had it to protect his team. After all, the only thing that trumps magick is stronger magick. He knew that Bruce would never approve of him having it, but unlike the dark knight, he never shied away from the occult. Growing up Romany had that effect on people.
When he arrived, he rolled back the steel door, and moved quickly to disable the security system, the last thing he needed was a fireball lighting up the night sky. Searching through the countless boxes, he soon found what he was looking for. The dagger was plain looking he supposed, if someone overlooked the obsidian blade and the marks etched onto it. Sliding it carefully into his belt, he felt the whisper of power that the weapon promised him, and he steeled himself with it. With this, his quest seemed so much more easily accomplished. Now, he just needed the devil. But he would be considerate when he spoke to him; he was many things if not considerate of people's feelings. The creature would have a choice. He could either give him the information he wanted willingly, or he would tell him as he stood on his black, broken wings and cut his still beating heart from his chest.
This is simply a test run to see if my reader(s) want(s) this. I have a full story lined up, and if at least one person writes a positive review, or selects 'story alert' I will publish more. In fact, even if you thought it sucked, still send me a review.
Take it Easy, -N