Hey guys, here is the first chapter of the next story. If you don't know what's going on, look back to my first story The Beginning of the Start. Thanks for all those who kept with me during that story, I'm glad people liked it enough to want more.
Chapter 1: A Titan's Return
The soft pitter-patter was defined in the quiet tower. The drips fell and echoed as the splash impacted the cold, metal roof and off of the wet glass. It was dark and gloomy, but nobody complained. Sorrow still lingered in the T-shaped tower. The past two days had been hell for them all. Dragging their feet around, stuck in eternal silence. Every once and a while, sobs could be heard, quietly muffled, but heard by all; there had almost been a silent agreement that they would all lie in their respective beds and stay awake. They didn't know if it was right for them to sleep. Nobody needed to ask to know that nobody had slept during the previous days.
Now they were entering the third, and it was beginning to be too much for them. Though they stayed in silence, a couple of the members decided to try and move on, already Dick Grayson had gone out to buy a new house with his wife, Starfire. They had asked their daughter to come along, but she hadn't left her room since that uneventful day. When they had arrived after the trip home, she had jumped out of the jet and sped towards her room, locking it shut and turning her defenses on. It was clear Nightfire didn't want to be disturbed.
Raven and Beast Boy were the only ones who seemed to be taking the loss harder than Nightfire. Garfield had to carry his wife from the jet to Raven's old room, for Beast Boy's room was turned into a storage closet once he and Raven moved out years before, plus nobody could vouch for the safety of that room; they were afraid of contracting cancer or be crushed under all the junk and old pizza's in the room. When asked why Cyborg never cleaned it out so that it could be used efficiently, he merely stated that the pizza had challenged him to a duel and he never got over the loss. When Nightwing tried the same thing, he had embarrassingly admitted that that was one mighty pizza.
Raven and Garfield, though, didn't lock themselves in their room the entire time. Garfield would occasionally come out and grab some food to deliver to his wife, who was meditating, trying to find her son's body in the wreckage that was once Slade's lab. Even though they had recently had the funeral the day after they returned, she was still searching for something to put in the coffin.
They remembered that day vividly. How the coffin was slowly lowered into the soft, malleable ground on that jejune day. Everything seemed dulled and grayed, though the entire team remembered it in sharp detail. It was the only time that Nightfire had exited her room, and she immediately returned to it once the last shovelful of dirt was pounded on top of the pile, burying the empty casket. Now they were slowly moving into the awkward time after the funeral, wondering if it was OK to talk about or even mention Spencer. Was it OK to mention him? Was it OK to joke? When will it be OK again to laugh or play or sing or dance? Will it ever be OK or will it infinitely be wrong? When will life return to how it should be? Will it ever?
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Spencer jumped over the massive barrier as if it was a running fence. Stretching his legs outward to clear the dark, massive Shadow wall, he cleared it with ease, landing solidly on his feet and continued his running non-stop. This was his realm, and he could do anything here. Granted, this world of his was dark, scary, constantly moving, shifting with the changes of the upper world, the real world… The world he needed to return too.
Spencer looked around his shadowy surroundings. From what he saw, he guessed that he was probably somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Great. He was hardly making any time at all. He still had to make it to California and the Shadow World didn't have a Panama Canal, so he obviously couldn't use that. The Shadow World could only be traveled as if the world was made up of only land, especially since the water in the upper world made the shadows all jerky and whacky constantly made things more difficult than they had to be. Spencer had to be sure he was extremely careful anytime he crossed any body of water. It wasn't that he couldn't handle the nausea, trippyness, rocking, headaches, vomiting or fainting that could possibly occur if he didn't stay focused, but the explosive diarrhea was what made him wary of traveling over shadow water. Not to mention that, unlike the land objects which were always solid in the Shadow Realm (though they were still pretty trippy and shaky), water from the physical world would not always be solid in the Shadow World. Often Spencer would find himself running across solid Shadow and then the next he would be drowning in the black goo he called Shadow Shit.
Spencer's right foot suddenly sank into the ground and he tripped over himself, he leg stuck in the ground. Pushing himself up, Spencer looked at his encased leg. More Shadow Shit. He growled in frustration and pulled at his leg as it slowly moved out of the dark, muddy pile.
Why can't Shadow Water be like normal water? Why can't it just be like any normal liquid? Is it that hard to have something so simple? And why does it have to spread itself out all the time? It gets on my nerves.
Pulling harder, Spencer managed to pull his leg free. He looked down at his leg and grimaced at the disgusting goo slowly slide down his leg, forming a small, thick pool of the stuff around his foot. Shaking off the rest of the goo, Spencer turned around and sped off toward something solid. Anything solid.
It wasn't until another 20 minutes did he finally reached the coast of what he assumed to be New York. He really wanted to go back to the surface and rest after all the Shadow shit he had gone through, but he pressed on. He estimated it would take around 45 minutes until he reached California if he Shadow traveled, but by the time he reached the tower, he'd be dead tired. He grunted and continued forward.
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Nightfire lied silently in her bed as she sniffed and wiped her nose. She had been crying for two straight days. Her eyes were red and sore and she felt light-headed. The room seemed to move on its own as she lay still in her prison of sorrow and tears. Why did he have to die? Why did he have to be the hero? Why didn't he realize that a hero is only good if he was alive to be a hero?
She moaned and pressed her face deeper into her pillow. She wished that it would smother her, the slow, painless, comfortable death would seem welcome, but it was impossible. Her alien side would not allow it, she would start breathing through her skin or something, she didn't know how it worked it just did, and she could hold her breath for a hell of a long time, so it wouldn't matter anyway. She looked at her alarm clock – 4 am. Great. Everyone was sleeping, trying to get over the painful memory, except her. She couldn't get passed it. It was like a giant mountain that she could never fly around, go around, or punch through, it was just there. Towering over her, imposing its will and sorrow over her like oil on a bird, she just couldn't get rid of it on her own as it encased her body, making movement impossible no matter how hard she tried. She just wished that he was back.
A small breath of air. Nightfire swung her head up quickly, intent on listening. She got out of bed and tiptoed to the wall where she heard the sudden noise. Pressing her ear against it, she listened closely for the sound.
Sobs and chocks were heard from the other side, a silent crying from the other room. Nightfire closed her eyes to remember… yes, it was Raven and Garfield's room. One of them must've been crying. The soft sobs of whispers of "Why? Oh Why?" determined that it was, indeed, Garfield crying. She listened carefully at his stifled breaths of air as he choked on the very air he breathed. It was all very choppy, he seemed to be drowning in his own tears, though he remained for the most part silent, as to not wake the Tower. Or maybe it was out of shame? Shame for not protecting his only son. Shame for crying. Shame for being bested during their greatest victory.
Nightfire reached her hand up to her cheek. She felt the cold, salty tear slide down her face, silently curving toward her mouth. The salty tear left it's taste in her mouth as it formed with the rest of the liquid in her mouth.
She was being selfish. She hadn't even left her room and hadn't even though about Spencer's parents. They were obviously the ones to take it harder than she ever would. But yet they tried to go on. They tried to fight through the hurt and the pain and use it to make themselves stronger, better people. They were not going to let Spencer's sacrifice be in vain… and she was. She felt a sudden wave of emotion engulf her as she felt disappointment. It just didn't feel right. She buried her head in her pillow again. Why do I always feel so sorry about myself? She sighed, these past two days have been crap.
With a mighty crash the tower shook, Nightfire rolled off her bed and slammed against the floor, knocking her knee against the hard, wooden bedpost. She stifled a yelp and grasped at her knee. She winched at the pain in her knee as she got to her feet, but she had to ignore it. She held her knee tightly as she felt the warm drip of blood rush from the gash that was formed. Like her mother, her powers mainly deprived from happiness and other emotions, and being depressed made her weak.
She pressed her blood covered hand on the door sliding button and limped out into the main hall. It was a disaster, the couches from the other side of the room had flew all the way to the other side where the hall was and were scattered, half-buried in the walls. A thick, black mist emanated from a large crater in the center of the room, the cracks extended all the way to the kitchen and all the glass and windows had broken, the TV had a huge gash in it and electricity cackled from the hole of it. Shattered glass littered the floor and encompassed the whole room. It was smoky and the air seemed to cackle with energy. She had only experienced this kind of power once before… but it was impossible.
In a clatter Nightfire turned around as she leaned heavily against the doorway. She winced at the sight. Usually she was very comfortable with her friend's in their nightwear, but seeing Victoria (aka Tech Girl's) parents both with towels wrapped around themselves was too much for even her. Oh God… the images. She shook her head of the images and returned to look at the figure as he slowly stood up. He was stumbling to get up, he looked exhausted and dead-like. Nightfire tried to summon her energy balls, but she couldn't. Her emotions were too confused for her to do anything. The mist slowly cleared and she heard a yelp from Raven behind her. Breathing heavily, trying not to fall down as he leaned on his own knee. He flipped his purple hair out of his eyes and stared at the group before him.
"Sup guys," Spencer said.
Hope you guys liked it. Chapter 2 will be up when I get to it (duh). Please read and review and don't be afraid to give out ideas, it does actually help :D so yeah. Again, Read And Review, peace out guys.