Hello, wonderful people. Cop has returned, and with her first ever official sequel. So, all of you who read Silver Wing—you already know what's going on and probably just want me to shut up and get to the story—and if you haven't read Silver Wing, I suggest reading it first. Not only because this story might not make a lot of sense by itself, but because it makes me happy when people read my stories. So, read Silver Wing first if you want this story to make sense.
I don't own Teen Titans, or the poem Porphyria's Lover by Robert Browning. I'll explain now that I'm putting an at the end of lines containing parts of that poem—you'll see them fairly often.
This concludes what has to be my shortest author's note ever. So, without further adieu, I give you Porphyria.
Porphyria
Chapter One—Wandering
"It's been three days, Robin."
Robin looked up into Cyborg's concerned face. He frowned, debating what to do. This was becoming more and more common, but then again, he'd never been gone for so long before.
In the months since Raven's abduction, Beast Boy had become distant. He rarely spoke, he barely ate, and the only time he ever seemed focused was when they were following a lead on Raven's whereabouts. Leads that, unfortunately, always led to another dead end.
About a month ago, he'd started disappearing. The first time they'd sent out a frantic search party, fearing the worst. Starfire had found him sitting outside the Titan's favorite pizza place, apparently unaware of his surroundings. After that, he'd leave at least twice a week, but never for very long. Eventually they stopped looking for him altogether—but they always made sure someone was still up for his return hours later.
Cyborg was right, it was high time they started to worry. Robin knew that Beast Boy need time to sort things out, but it had gotten out of hand. It was only a matter of time before he got himself hurt, or even killed.
Now Starfire was standing beside Cyborg, anxiously awaiting Robin's decision. She'd wanted to search for Beast Boy after he failed to come home the morning before, but Robin had held her back. He'd told her that Beast Boy needed space, and that he'd be fine, but now…
His mind made up, Robin caught Starfire's unwavering gaze and nodded.
"Let's bring him home."
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The rain was cold and forgiving. It didn't judge him, didn't blame him for what happened. The sky just kept on raining, unaware of the turmoil raging inside the young man lost in the downpour.
Two months. Two months since she was taken. Two months of guilt, fear, and sleepless nights. Two months of wandering around in a daze, wondering what had happened to her, and if she was even alive.
A part of him vaguely wondered how long he'd been sitting there. The sport was fairly secluded—no one had come to bother him yet. He remembered the time he'd seen her sitting in this very sport. She'd been reading on this bench, off the beaten path and partially shielded by the sweeping branches of an ancient tree. Raven had been lost in her own world that day—now Beast Boy was lost in his.
He still hadn't figured out why coming to these places helped. Maybe he'd managed to convince a part of himself that if he stalked her old haunts, she'd somehow wind up there with him. Then again, he was probably crazy—the rest of the Titans obviously thought so.
"Beast Boy?"
Starfire had appeared before him, worry written all over her face. In an instant, reality flooded back to him in its brutal entirety. He was completely aware of his surroundings, no longer viewing the world from that indifferent third-person view. This world was an uncomfortable place—he was cold and wet, and shiver wracked his body. His right glove was missing, exposing his silver fingers. He numbly realized that he always lost his right glove on these little expeditions.
"Hey, Starfire," he said, turning back to his friend. He did his best to smile at her, but his half-frozen face wouldn't obey.
She frowned reprovingly, then took his human hand and forcefully led him away from the bench.
"You must not do any more of this 'running off,' Beast Boy," she said firmly. "You may injure yourself."
"I'm fine, Star," he responded quietly, looking down at his feet as they walked.
"Still, you have frightened us all," she explained. "You were gone for three days."
This time, Beast Boy looked up in surprise. He hadn't realized just how long it had been. That explained why he felt so terrible.
"Sorry, Star," he murmured, as sincerely as he could muster.
"I know." Starfire stopped and turned back to her friend. "Beast Boy, I must ask you not to do this again."
And as Beast Boy made a promise they both knew he wouldn't keep, a girl was waking up.
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The rain set early in to-night.
James slammed his car door shut and madly dashed across his sprawling front lawn, trying to get out of the deluge. Within moments he was standing at his front door, too busy shoving his house key into the lock to pay any attention to the carvings in the oak. He entered a dark hallway and sighed happily, glad to be home. Kicking his shoes off as he ran, he bolted up the wide, spiral stairs, running his hand along the ornately carved banister. This stairwell opened up into another hallway, with a balcony that overlooked the first floor.
Pausing a moment, James rested his forearms on the railing, leaning out into the open air. His shoes were lying at odd angles, a few feet apart, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the strange site. This time he took a moment to admire the carvings on the railings—they perfectly matched those on the banister, doors, and every other piece of wood furniture in this mansion.
A dull thud sounded from behind him, and he quickly turned to the door across the hallway. The corners of his mouth perked up in a crooked grin—so she was awake. He approached the door and listened outside to the movement inside. The door creaked as it opened, and James entered the room, still smiling. He beamed at his beloved, sprawled out on the floor.
Even when bound and gagged, she was beautiful.
TBC
Well, how's that for making sense? Mwahahaha.
Ehem. Sorry about that momentary lapse in sanity. You aren't supposed to understand James yet, but you will. And the line about the rain, at the beginning of the last section—that was from that Robert Browning poem I mentioned earlier. Like I said, you'll be seeing a lot of those lines.
Okay, I have to get ready to leave for State Convention (yay for newspaper), so please review, and I'll work on the next chapter ASAP.
Child of a Pineapple