Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, nor do I claim rights to any of the affiliated characters.
Warnings/Notes: Please be advised that this piece is not meant to coincide with everything we've seen in the "Aftershock" episodes of season two, nor the series finale. It is a continuation meant to provide background on the character of "Laura," which Terra has chosen for herself.
Choices
It was a ceaseless, unbearable pain.
From the moment stone became flesh, she had no thoughts aside from the ache building steadily in her bones. Humanity came in flashes of ash and agony, restriction melting away into the soft sinew of ordinary people. Shock forced the first breath from her lungs, a sharp, choking inhale which carried a moan into the prison of stillness. She could hear her voice reverberating through the chasm of her catacomb, oozing life into her as the cries became louder, more desperate.
"No…" She pleaded, lifting a hand numbly to move a curtain of hair from her eyes. "This can't be…" The last of the earth relinquished its hold and she battled for coherency. Fawn feet and heart palpitations were making her an outsider in her own skin, an entity, once foreign, free again among the living.
She surrendered to the dizzying rush of consciousness. His name was on her lips, lingering on sharp tongue canvas with no master of the brush. The need to see him, all of them, overwhelmed her. She didn't know this place yet, not really. It was vaguely familiar in the same way their faces were as they passed through her mind, suddenly assigning colors to eyes, names to bodies. Jump City. The Titans. She swallowed thickly.
In the first few moments on the cold dirt she became aware of how deeply she yearned to be one with it again. She did not want to battle with sadness and anger, did not want to think about refusing to face them, even now, after all this time. How long had it been? She sat up a bit straighter. It didn't matter. She needed the world to be still and silent, needing everything to stop spinning so that she could forget what it felt like to hate herself.
Especially now, as her eyes began adjusting to the darkness and holding back tears, she was uncertain of where she would go or what she would do. The only thing she knew for sure was the need to be gone – to vanish – because nothing was ever really going to fix things.
"Need a 'and me ducky?"
She shuddered involuntarily, trying stubbornly to work feeling into her tingling, uncooperative limbs. Just the thought of this man's presence was intrusive. She had not put two and two together to realize that he, and the jeweled cane he kept at his side, had freed her from life that was not life anymore. The only thing she cared about was getting out as fast as possible.
"Suit yourself." He snapped, his tone clipped and even as he turned to hurry off into the night.
"Wait!" She called out, gathering herself to her feet, searching for something to steady herself against. "Who are you? Where are you going?"
"Not important love." He called over his back to her, not even pausing for a second glance.
"It matters." She challenged determinedly.
"Not ta' me."
She forced herself forward a few steps, struggling for her balance as she did so. In the dim light of the outside world she could make out a tint of red. Was he possibly Starfire's father, her child now grown with kids of his own? How long, she wondered again, how long had she been sleeping, alive but not alive, existing in the way that does not move, not touch, nor affect anyone. "Then why did you…why did you…do this for me?"
"For you?" The laughter in his voice snaked its way under her skin, he had almost stopped to look back at her, "Mustn't ruffle our own feathers dearie," he chided, "I did it fa' me, because I could."
She clenched her fist in anger. He reminded her of Slade. Always condescending, always possessive without being loving, or compassionate, or positive, degrading her with pet names as if she were his – as if she were anything to him.
"There's always a reason!" She pressed on hurriedly, catching the sleeve of his jacket in her hand, propelled forward by anger and curiosity.
"See 'ere!" He jabbed the cane into her stomach, glancing sideways at her without turned around until she had doubled over, fingers still loosely grazing the fabric of his clothes, "What grown people do is not a child's business, matter o' fact, this is no one's concern but me own. You run along now dearie before I really give you something ta' whine about."
She straightened up, recoiling from the sudden grasp of his hand over hers, "At least give me a name." She probed, "where you're going, something!" A sudden fear that the man might know Slade, or come across his body in the rubble and dust with an urge to bring it to life, wrapped itself around her.
"Name's Moddy." He sucked on his teeth in disgust, beating her eager hand to her face to brush blonde tresses behind her ear, "Going ta' the outskirts of town."
"I'm coming with you." She decided aloud, shocking even herself with the announcement. Then, because it seemed so foolish to say nothing more, "I've got nowhere else, no one else."
He pondered this for a moment, "I run a school of sorts." He posed, "You'd be attendin' lovey, I can assure ya that."
Her elder had closed the gap between them a few long moments ago, but the impact shook her to the core now. All at once she was consumed by dark eyes resembling Slade's, by a creeping sense of ownership, almost like a father's. She wanted to recant, but if she went with him…maybe he would take her far away, keep her hidden, make it impossible to know them again, or anyone else in Jump City. She swallowed nervously, weighing the need to hide with the need for independence.
"Mustn't keep the teacher waitin' poppet." She hated him.
Blue eyes met brown in the stillness of nightfall as she opened her mouth to reply, "Whatever you say, I guess."
But most of all, she hated herself.
Author's Note: The "skeleton" of a story I will probably make more in depth later. At this point I had just watched "Aftershock" for the first time in years and was compelled by the idea. Call me crazy…or a Moddy fangirl, because I am.