Disclaimer: Do I really have to do this for every chapter? Sigh the Teen Titans don't belong to me. Yadda yadda.

A/N: Time for the rest of the team to make their entrances. They may be a little OOC and angsty but that's just because they haven't discovered the magic of friendship yet. Also for some reason I hate writing Robin in first person but I love writing the others in first person so POV will jump around in this chapter tell me if it confuses any of you.

The Rest Begin

Dead. They were all dead. ! Oh God, I am going insane. Joking was one way to save yourself from pain, but inner monologues and maniacal laughter were borderline crazy.

Who am I kidding? Borderline? This was 'hitched a ride in a pick-up truck, hopped the border, got a job as a gardener, and sent the money back to mi familia with a warning not to drink the water' crazy. My team was dead, killed by an old guy, a monkey, a disembodied brain, and a Frog. Good Lord, how did we lose to someone French? Aren't their military tactics supposed to be like totally medieval?

And now I'm crazy. You know how I know that I'm crazy? Because all I can think after my TEAM, my FAMILY, died is "Guess the Doom Patrol wasn't that great at patrolling doom." And that isn't even a funny joke; it's not even a clever pun. It's just… disturbing.

And I laughed.

I think I'm gonna go throw up now.

This isn't the first time my family died. But at least my parents weren't killed by a Frog. Nope they died in a boating accident.

Accident, such a funny word. I probably could have saved them, so is it really an accident? Will people say the Doom Patrol's deaths were an accident? I hope not. I think I might really go insane if people say that… If they say it wasn't my fault.

Joking is one way to save yourself from pain, but do I really deserve to be saved? After all, I didn't save anyone else.

I think I might be cursed.

Not by some prophesy, just that I'm cursed to be constantly sore.

Take right now, for example. I am minding my own business, sitting in a mall food court, sipping some disgustingly sweet tea, and people watching. At the same time I am suffering from an intense eyesore and the biggest migraine in the history of all time.

The eyesore is easy. That stems from the abundance of miniskirts and pink. Great Azar! There is so much pink.

The migraine isn't so simple. I can't merely close my eyes and will it away. When I close my eyes the voices only get louder. And do you want to know what sucks the most? These aren't even voices I can tell to shut up, because humans (especially the miniskirt clad humans of the teenage variety) can not control their emotions (damn hormones).

That's right, I hear emotions. Well actually it's more like I feel them.

Feel them, hammering away at my skull.

I should become a hermit. Go far away where I won't have to feel all these people. Instead, I stay and try to find some reason that they deserve to live, to have a future that extends past my 17th birthday. Because maybe if I have a good enough argument Daddy Dearest will let them have a future. Yeah right.

All I know is that if I do find an argument, a reason to save Earth, that reason will not have anything to do with shopping malls, or pink, or least of all teenagers.

I think I might be cursed, but I know this world is doomed.

Well this is just great. My life is over. Done. Finished.

Everything I ever trained for destroyed. And that Bastard doesn't even have the decency to let me die.

Woah, pause and rewind, I did not mean to sound so emo back there. I don't want to die. Dying would suck. I also didn't mean to call him a bastard. I mean, I love my Dad, he saved my life. Not to mention my cool new metal body.

Complete with emo-slice-proof wrists. Guess the Old Man has some foresight.

It could be worse. I could have… umm… cancer. Yeah, now that would suck. Hard. There is no upside to cancer. All that happens is that you get sick, go bald, and die. Well, I already have one out of three, but being bald isn't that bad. Especially if you're black like me, now bald, white, teenagers on the other hand cannot pull off the look with as much swagger; most just come off as skinheads.

I once heard a tasteless joke that cancer comes with your own robot. Well in your face, Cancer, I AM my own robot.

I am a member of a courageous race.

I am scared.

I am a powerful warrior.

I am so weak.

I am able to carry in my skin the light of the stars.

I am afraid of the dark.

I am a survivor.

I am alone.

I am a fighter.

I am fleeing.

I am good.

I am leading Death to an unwitting planet.

I am a princess.

I am no longer a prisoner.

A/N: Like I said angst. Also I haven't read a lot of stuff with Galtry in it so I am basically making up his character as I go along. I hope there are no diehard Galtry fans waiting to slice my thought. Also don't forget to review!