'Azerath, Metrion, Zinthos...'
I pause to look at the digital clock at my bedside, 2:53 A.M. I've been meditating for four hours straight. I won't say it's a new record, but it is time that I stop. Unfolding from my lotus position, I take in my surroundings, trying to get my bearings. Meditation always leaves me a little disoriented if I continue for too long.
Truth be told, I don't really need to meditate anymore, or hold back my emotions. Sure, powerful emotions may trigger minor outbursts, but my father is gone. His dark taint no longer influences me, and yet, I stick to the same old routines.
Meditation isn't so bad to stick with; it's relaxing. It's the emotionless facade that I put up that's the killer. I can experience my emotions, happiness, sorrow, anger, love, but I don't show it. I know it's childish, but I'm afraid of what the others might say. I know I haven't been especially friendly, but this is the me they know and have excepted. What if they don't like the new me?
As I said, I know it's irrational, but it's just the way things are going to have to be. I'll never be able to express the happiness I feel when Changeling insists on including me, or the anger when he and Cyborg make me the target of their latest joke. Not the quiet bliss bonding with Starfire, nor the sorrow of unrequited love...
But I'll deal with it, I always have, and I've always been prepared to continue doing so. Nothing's changed. The only difference is that rather than my demon heritage keeping from expressing myself, it's the fear of rejection staying my hand.
Sigh... and now I've gotten myself all worked up, and I'll never be able to fall asleep. Grabbing a towel, I silently creep out of my room, heading to the gym. I'll work up a good sweat, take a hot shower, and I'll be right as rain. I hope.
I pad barefoot down the halls, still in my pajamas. Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead outside my room in these clothes, a pair of loose, dark purple pajama pants and a form-fitting, black tank top, but they're comfortable. And no one's going to be wandering the halls at this hour.
Stopping briefly in the kitchen along the way, I pause to grab a bottle of water before continuing towards the gym. Putting in my iPod as I approach the door, I close my eyes and hum to the tune as I enter. Walking instinctively to the punch bag, I continue humming, even as I open my eyes, and begin attacking the punching bag.
Without meaning to, I begin punching and kicking to the beat, letting the rhythm of the song guide my fight against my lifeless opponent. I smile at the irony of the song playing, I Need a Hero. As if I would ever need someone to save me.
When I feel as if I've beaten my opponent well enough, I grab my towel, chug my water and start heading towards the shower. When I turn however, Changeling is emerging from the locker room, steam pouring out the open doorway behind him.
His chest is bare, green skin glistening in the light, still wet from his shower. He's definitely been working out more lately. His chest is much more defined than it used to be, and his biceps have certainly gotten larger. The only covering he has is a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. The part in the fabric is midway down his left leg, just barely covering his... anatomy.
I glance up and realize he's saying something. Taking out my headphones, he starts over, a massive grin across his face.
"It's impolite to stare, you know."
Blushing, I grab at my shirt, as if to pull up my hood, only to realize that it's not there. No hood, no cloak, no salvation. I have been caught staring at the dripping wet body of the team mascot, in my pajamas, with no hood to hide my blush.
"How long have you been down here?" I ask, afraid to hear his answer.
"I was running the treadmill when you got here. I gotta say, nice fighting style. It was, dare I say, erotic?"
Blushing further, I push past him to get into the locker room, ignoring his grin. As I start to close the door, he stops me, holding it against the wall.
"You know," he says, "Your not as clever as you think."
"What are you talking about Changeling?" I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. I am definitely not in the mood to have this conversation.
"I'm talking about the fact that you can feel emotions." He says, smirking as I start to give and indignant reply, before cutting me off, "I couldn't help but notice, honestly I'm surprised none of the others have. But don't worry, I won't tell."
With a wink, he turns to leave, with me just standing here, completely speechless. How had that imbecile noticed? If anyone it should have been Nightwing, but Changeling? It's ridiculous, and yet, something about the fact the he was noticing me gave me a sort of pleasant feeling. He's nice enough, and he cares about me, but I won't let anything happen. What would the others say? Besides, what would happen if things ended badly? It could hurt the team and I will not allow that to happen just so I can be happy. And any ways, I still don't know that my demonic heritage wouldn't mess with me.
Becoming acutely aware of the sweat dripping down my body, I attempt to regain my composure as I shut the door behind me. Walking over to the showers, I grab a towel and place it on the nearby bench. Once the water is at a desirable temperature, I begin stripping out of my pajamas, glad to get the damp fabric off my skin.
Stepping into the water, the relief is instant. I can feel myself relaxing as time passes. As though all my cares are flowing away with the water running down my body. Washing my hair, I skip over conditioner, my hair being too fine-grained to handle it. After I rinse it out, I wash my face with my face wash. Then, I use my liquid body soap, lavender and vanilla scented, and a lufa to wash my body. In this manner I scrub off the sweat and dust that accumulated on my body during my workout, letting the water cascade around me, soothing my tired mind.
With a sigh, I step out of the shower, turning it off before wrapping my towel around me. In an attempt to avoid letting a chill set in, I wrap myself in shadows, only for them to dispel moments later, revealing my bedroom.
Too tired to care, I cast aside my dripping towel and climb into bed. The silk sheets feel nice against my pale skin. Sighing contentedly, I feel myself drifting into sleep, the last conscious thought of my sleep deprived brain wondering if Changeling's sheets would feel this good against my skin.
Waking up, I am dismayed to find the read out on my digital clock to be noon. Standing up, I realize I never put on another set of pajamas the hard way. Shivering from the unexpected cold, I set about gathering my clothes for the day when I catch my image in the mirror.
Staring at my nude form, I know I have a body many would envy. I, however, cannot help but pick out every flaw. I have a small scar, about three inches in length, running from my collar bone to the crest between my breasts diagonally. My hair couldn't be anymore boring, my skin is unnaturally pale, and my stomach could be a bit more firm. Worst, I'm short. Five feet and two inches.
Shaking myself out of my reverie, I set about putting on my clothes. Once finished, I walk out my door, hoping nobody's noticed my absence. Walking swiftly down the halls, I can hear the noise coming from the living room.
Entering the room, it's a mess of activity. Cyborg and Changeling are locked in a race, mindlessly pressing buttons. Terra is lying next to them, her head resting on a pillow placed on Cyborg's leg. When she first came back she was a bit upset that Garfield was no longer interested in her, but she got over it. It's been three years and in that time her and Cyborg have developed quite the relationship.
Nightwing is hanging a painting over in the kitchen, Starfire watching critically from behind, shouting instructions to her masked husband as he attempted to straighten it. Flash and Jinx are sitting at the table behind them, chatting idly as they eat their lunch.
Walking over to Changeling, I nod my head in greeting as I sit down, watching the two race for lack of something better to do.
"So, who's winning" I ask, trying to figure out the race, closing my eyes I chuckle at what I've said, "Dumb question, obviously Cyborg."
Opening my eyes, I am shocked to not see my living room rather, a large, open room filled with other people. To my left stands Starfire, looking just as confused as I must, and behind her, a long window.
"Please Friend Raven, where might we be?" Star ask as I walk to the window, hoping to see something familiar.
Paling, which is difficult for someone like me, I gasp before answering, "Star... I think we're in space." Outside the window, the planet Earth floats lazily beneath us.
"Greetings," A loud voice sounds, echoing around the room, "I am Royha of the planet Repmerdes. Welcome to the starship, S.A.A."
Up on a balcony stands a tall and gaunt humanoid with a thin body and elongated head. It also has hairless pasty-white skin, tiny ears on the middle of the sides of it's head, long arms and legs, and a very thin waist.
"I hope you are all well." It says. Suddenly Superman is floating in the air above us, looking the thing in the eye.
"What are we doing here?" He shouts, earning encouraging shouts from the others gathered.
"Ah, well, you see... We, that is, my race, have been watching this planet for many ages, ever since we first visited. The people of that time, thousands of years ago, mistook us for gods. What we saw disgusted us. Slaughter on mass scales, live sacrifices, wars brewing everywhere. We used their perception of us to attempt to change them."
"We told them to stop all the killing, to repent. We threatened horrible things should they not. Before we left, we gave them a deadline to better themselves. If things were not different by your date of December 12, 2012, they were to be exterminated... Things have not changed." It says gravely, shaking it's head in disgust.
Several people began shouting in anger, others begging for their lives. The noise stopped as soon as the Martian Manhunter rose.
"That still does not explain why you have gathered us." He says calmly, his face revealing nothing of what he is thinking.
"Yes, well, the order was given to humans. We feel that you are not to be punished for the crimes of the homo sapiens. All of you were either raised elsewhere, or are alien to this planet. Either way, you are not being held responsible for the crimes of humanity. Rejoice! For you have been spared!" It answers, obviously expecting the news to go over well.
Looking around, I recognize everyone of the people on this ship and it is true, none of them are human. Seeing the sobbing Tameranian beside me, my outrage at the being inspires me to rise up.
"And just who are you to decide the fates of every living being on that planet? Most of them are good, honest people! We care about those people! Do you honestly expect us to just sit by and let you kill them?" I shout, my own tears streaking down my face.
Sighing, the alien being responds,
"We anticipated you might react like this. Once I have pressed this button you will find that none of you... abilities, will be able to help you," The being presses a button on the control panel in front of him before continuing, "We understand that there might be those you yet care about and we are not unsympathetic towards your feelings. As such you will each be allowed one transmission to Earth to sat goodbye. If you will each step up to one of the screens..."
As it says this, dozens of screens descend from the ceiling, spreading out across the room. Dragging Starfire behind me, we each walk up to one of the screens.
"Please Friend Raven," The sobbing Tameranian says, "If you do not mind, I would like to do the calling of my husband."
"Of course, Star," I reply, trying to contain my own tears, "I have my own plans."
Crashing on my bed, I feel despair closing in as I wonder where Raven and Starfire disappeared too. It seems like Rae and I are just getting closer and now she's gone. We haven't been able to find them anywhere!
After hours of persuasion, Cyborg finally managed to convince Dick and I to get some sleep. He was right, we might miss something important during our search if we're too tired to focus. Rolling onto my back, I fight back the tears that threaten to break through.
A loud ringing causes me jump, almost falling out of bed. Fumbling for my communicator, I finally open it to see Raven's puffy, tear- stained face staring back at me.
"Rae," I cry, relief flooding through my systems, "Are you alright? Where are you? What happened?"
"Gar, I need you to stay quiet for a minute and listen to me..." She says, choking back a sob.
Meanwhile, somewhere far in the depths of Gotham's underbelly, a normally strong, confident voice quivers as it echoes throughout the cave system, mingling with the usual screeching of bats.
"Bruce..." It says, trying to maintain it's composure.
"What is it Clark? I'm busy..."