Disclaimer: I do not own the Justice League, Teen Titans or any associated characters.

Hello everyone, it's been a while, hasn't it?

In all honesty, this story was always meant to be finished whenever it happened, I had to wrestle the original file off of a crashed computer... and after re-reading my horrifically shitty writing of that first chapter, it took a while to come back to it and write another.

I do hope this next chapter has improved in comparison to the original from 2012, or I will be vastly disappointed in myself.

Nonetheless, I give you all... Chapter 2 of BAD TOUCH.

BAD TOUCH

~*Chapter 2: Death Is Coming, Soon*~

~)0(~

. . .

It was almost as if… as if every single living thing in all the vast universe had hushed at the same instant. Collectively straining to hear the next words to spill from their mouths, as if this well-suppressed tale of woe was, in fact, a vitally important piece of information none could truly live without knowing the last skerrick of.

The proverbial 'meaning of life', as it were.

At the same time, Roy couldn't have given half a damn.

This story, this… this shared memory of theirs had been kept secret -hidden away even from themselves through repression- for so damn long, it was almost like trying to carve out the darkest pieces of your soul and put them on display.

Well, maybe that was a tad melodramatic, he mused internally, but it was accurate as hell.

The whole Slade situation had them so on edge, nervous, anxious and on-guard even to this day; it was like past, present and the bleak, bleak future were all tangled up in a big old mess of dark threads inside their chests, constricting their lungs until they couldn't breathe.

And there wasn't anything they could do to pick at it, maybe gently unravel it… no, no this was one occasion that demanded you take great fistfuls of the darkness and tear it out in a great mess of visceral memory, pain and confusion. Tear it out, throw it down, lay it bare.

"To explain this all to you, we need to go back to when we were still teenagers and ignore the crap that's still happening, cause I swear it'll all make sense eventually." With a soft sigh, Roy released the pent-up tension swimming within every cell of his very being, in a verbal torrent akin to an overstressed dam bursting free of it's concrete constraints.

"You really don't have any idea how we lived back then. I mean, sure, when one'a you lot deigned to come down and check on the kiddies -and make no mistake, no matter what your excuse, we knew exactly why you were there- we always managed to muster up some cheerful smiles and fabricate stories of game nights and stuff. You'd listen, rough up someone's hair, tell us we're doing good… and sometimes we needed that, you know? But reality was, the minute that door closed behind you Leaguers, everyone on the Titans would just about collapse with a sigh of relief that we'd successfully kept you lot in the dark once more."

That admission definitely garnered more concerned expressions than frowns, probably thinking back over the numerous visits wherein the 'adults' in the room should have at the very least sensed something was not quite right at Titans Tower. On the other hand, they'd had that whole happy-team facade down to an art, so it wasn't hard to see how they might have been fooled into thinking all was good, well and downright sickeningly wholesome for the teen heroes.

"Like we said before, couldn't let you break us up, we're stronger… safer, together. If that meant spending a few hours once a month placating you all that everything was a-o-freaking-kay for the Teen Titans… so be it." The vigilante shrugged, "Worked, didn't it?"

Several mentor expressions clearly denoted that this would be a topic of conversation at a later date, somewhere not so public, and at a time when a tale of tragedy was not hovering over all their heads like some sort of ominous thundercloud.

At this point, even Red Arrow was starting to wonder if maybe he was stalling, because that was certainly what it felt like from his end… and must have shown to the others, because it was then that someone took his hand briefly, squeezed supportively, and let go. It simply stood for, we are with you… and that was all he needed to hear to hurdle headlong into, well… the one night when everything changed.

"Titans Tower was both our home, and a perpetual prison. Ain't no way to sugarcoat it, really… loved the place to bits but we could never really feel safe there after Slade started doing his creeper thing.

It actually wasn't until Cyborg came along that we really, finally, felt comfortable sleeping in something other than a giant could-be-hard-to-explain-to-our-mentors clump of teenaged Titans… in the Armoury. Which, just for the record, gives you a hell of a sore everything come morning."

Something related to the memory seemed to have amused the archer, because he huffed out something that sounded like a gruff chuckle, faint smile flickering on his lips -there and gone in a split-second.
"You know, no matter how many times Wally would prod me of a morning and say, 'Is that one of your arrows, Roy, or are you just happy to see me?', we would all always laugh until we cried. Sure, it was stupid, almost painfully so… but we were so stressed. Gotta enjoy the little things, you know?"

"Heh, well, like I said… Cyborg was a gift from the technological gods. When Vic came along, he took one good long look at the security systems we'd rigged up, tutted like a disappointed great aunt, and did a complete overhaul. Fixed the system from top floor to sub-basement with all manner of bells, whistles, alarms, tripwires, remote-activation detonators… it was a fortress he'd crafted for us. Heck, you needed a triple-coded password just to get to the bathroom!" Roy chuckled wryly, the sound softly echoed by those surrounding him.

As if a switch had been thrown, the vigilante archer's expression darkened. "But there's always a margin for error in every system… and Slade has this grating habit of being able to not only find, but also exploit that kind of thing. One in a million shot? Look for Slade."

The red-head huffed out an angry sigh, "Well, somehow that bastard managed to get into the Tower on one last occasion after all these fancy upgrades had been added in. Nothing compared to today's security tech, but back then it should have been enough to make even the Bat!clan spend more than a few minutes trying to figure it out. Still, he got in. We were… what? Sixteen at the time, maybe?"

The moment the tale had begun to get serious, the current Titans had begun to move.

First, Wally sunk into his chair at the JLA conference table and rested head in red-spandex-clad hands, like an old man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He seemed to find comfort and strength from being in the presence of his two sets of teammates… but yet, at the same time, not quite enough.

In counterpoint, Tempest manoeuvered himself further away from the table, and therefore his former-mentor Aquaman; maintaining a position just out of physical reach of all but their standing teammates. All the Titans knew that feeling… they had since they were young children, unable to find a word that expressed how it made them feel. Well they had one now.

It was like being, for lack of a better description, Unclean.

As though your skin were covered in something invisible, it made it crawl and no amount of scrubbing could ever permanently wash away that feeling. And the very last thing you ever wanted to do was to brush it off on another by accident, or even vindictive design.

Logically, that made little sense. They knew empirically that there was nothing there, that it was psychological… or well, in this case, psychosomatic; and yet this mindset lingered between them.

Donna moved about the conference table and seated herself directly on Wally's lap. Forcing him to forgo his former head-in-hands routine and pay attention to her; she gripped tight to one of his hands and downright dared anyone to say anything about her positioning.

There was nothing overtly sexual in their interaction, that much was violently obvious to the casual observer; it would be quite difficult to misconstrue the situation. Her presence calmed down the nervous super-speed jiggling of his knee; and his solid form beneath her radiated slightly-above-human warmth, kept her grounded in the here and now.

Nightwing hovered in the shadows of the room. Many began to question internally how shadows could exist in such a well-lit environment, then glanced not-as-discreetly-as-they-might-have-assumed towards Batman, and concluded that those of Gotham and Bludhaven must bring their own with them for dramatic effect. As it stood, the acrobatic leader of the Titans remained close by both Tempest and Red Arrow; silent support, yet not touching as he seemed to sense that was not what they needed right now.

When all the movement had quieted down again, and with a quick glance over his shoulder at Dick, Roy began to speak again. "Anyway, so at the time of the final incursion… at the Tower, most of us were crowded into the main Computer Room. See, Starfire had just sent us a transmission from her Tamaranian Battlecruiser… apparently her people needed her again and she was running off to do whatever it was her jerkwad of a dad decreed, without stopping to think that maybe after all this time he really didn't have her best interests at heart. What with the selling her to slavery the last three times she went back. You'd think Kori would have learned by now, but no. Unfortunately she also refused to let at least one of us go with her to this whole she-bang in outer space, so there was no one to dig her out of whatever grave her family would drop her in 'for the sake of the people' this time; it worried us, but we wished her well anyway and committed her image to memory. You know, just in case.

Okay, so maybe we weren't so magnanimous. We waved her off and rolled our eyes at her naivety… when really we probably should have been worrying about issues a little closer to, well, home. Quite literally.

It was only as the screen went dark that I noticed we were missing a couple of team members -Wonder Girl and Robin. That didn't necessarily set off any internal alarms or anything, both of them had been agitated and wanting to talk to someone from what we could get outta their rigid body language over breakfast… and the morning working-kinks-out-of-everything-massage session -which was not as kinky as it sounds."

.

Oliver Queen was aiming some pretty severe parental disapproval in Roy's direction after that particular phrasing. The younger archer pretended not to see it.

"But, most importantly, no matter what bug was up their collective butts… they were together wherever they were right now, which meant they were supposed to be completely safe." He spat out a dark, aborted laugh. "Yeah, right. The 'buddy system' we were so damn proud of as a failsafe means of protection? Might as well have slapped a giant-ass neon sign to the roof of the tower proclaiming 'two for one special on borderline-neurotic, sleep-deprived teenage superheroes', and really get the message out there to all those sickos in the world like Slade, for all the good it did us."

Roy slammed his tightly clenched fist against his hip, knuckles white. "Sonovabitch was already in the fucking Tower, watching us… just laying low in the metaphorical long grass and patiently waiting for one or two of us to split from the main group; like some sorta predator stalking prey. Which wasn't really likely, there's not many activities that we did by ourselves in those days. An example being that we'd long ago taken up using the Common Shower Room to avoid being ambushed in our rooms… just one long row of showers with no windows, and no creepy-ass cubicles fully-grown men might be hiding their skeezy selves in, you know?"

"Of course, we never ever took clothes off in that room -or any other- until we'd completed a thorough sensor sweep for bugs or lingering surveillance devices. We learned the hard way a long time ago that when it comes to Slade, if you think you're being too cautious, you're obviously not being cautious enough." Red Arrow huffed out a breath, clearly out of oxygen after that practical marathon of words, studiously avoiding looking at anyone in particular in the interim before he began speaking once more.

"It actually wasn't until a few minutes later that we realised something might actually be really, terribly, fucking-apocalypse-level-of-OhShit!-wrong… because it was then that the computer flared back on rather violently, going completely crazy. Vic had programmed it to go off it's technological head if any of the original Titans were alone for more than a few seconds -which sounds odd, but it saved our butts a few times, I tell you.

Sure, there were occasionally times where there was an awkward moment shared between us all… like if someone was trying to wrap a present, or fell asleep somewhere awkward and out of the way while their assigned buddy continued to mess with something routine and not in the least exciting to overcome stressed exhaustion.

And in case you were wondering, yeah, there were a few occasions when a Titan alone meant that they were having Alone Time, you know? We were teenagers, so sue us.

Might have been a bit embarrassing to have the whole squad kick down the door on you, but better than having Slade interrupt… or try to get in on it.

Hell, we even learned to do that together in those days, the key was to not make eye conta-... whoa, Diana, that was totally not what I meant-... well no, I did mean it, but less suss than it sounded and a lot more 'it was going to happen anyway and we might as well just do it within the same sensor-swept area so as to avoid awkward ambushes'.

But, aside from that one little side-track that we'll all bring up in therapy thirty years from now, back to the actual freaky-happenings of the time. It was on that day, as the computer was flipping out, that we realised something that made hearts slide into the pits of our stomachs… it was the communicators."

There were several blank looks from the listening mentors. Who all appeared on edge, several making vague attempts and gestures at their mentees, and being subtly warded away. Hawkgirl was patting Wally on the arm, and Green Lantern looked to be plotting the violent murder of someone. He wasn't a marine for all those years so some creep in a damn mask could prey on kids… it was written all over his face; John Stewart was a man to fear when you messed with people under his protection.

Batman was staring at him intently, unnervingly. Like he knew where this was headed, but only wanted confirmation before he broke the sacred Bat law of 'Do not Kill'. This was mirrored by Wonder Woman, a being far more used to removing threats to the innocent on a more… permanent level. In all honesty, Aquaman was not that far behind them in these dark thoughts of future deeds, if the way he was sharpening his hook stood for anything… and Green Arrow seemed to share this mentality, fingers running over the arrows in his quiver continuously, as if taking arsenal inventory for rapid-fire later.

Superman and Manhunter just watched, like two stone statues that breathed, listening intently; probably hearing everything they didn't say; how his heart skipped beats with the anxiety building in his chest, or the creak of costume as many in the room fidgeted, clenching fists or shaking slightly. Yet they appeared outwardly unaffected, only nodding when the silence lapsed too long, as if in encouragement to continue the tale.

Like now.

"I… um, w-well, it was the communicators."

Where had this come from? This stuttering? The tightness in his every muscle?

Breathe, Harper, just breathe and it'll pass. Keep talking. Roy told himself, and tried again.

"He was tracking us through them, Slade I mean. Tried to manipulate our systems into thinking they were somewhere they weren't, but even we weren't that stupid. The very minute we saw that the computer map showed Dick and Donna on completely opposite sides of the Tower, it set off our internal alarm bells.

For one, Donna was always the most cautious of us all, and secondly, there was absolutely no way in hell Dick would have broken a rule he made, and enforced, unless something was really wrong. Anyway, according to the computer, our tiny wonder woman was in the Library, and batboy junior had apparently made his way to the Roof, alone.

Which was the biggest, 'Something is Very Wrong Here' neon sign possible for this situation; because none of us ever went up there alone anymore. Slade liked to try and ambush us up there all the time; so we generally avoided the place, and all other large open spaced areas like it, as if they contained the last traces of the medieval plague itself.

Well, unless necessity forced us to go up to the Roof. Like, say, when we -as a group of highly-alert teen heroes- had to go up there to meet with our oblivious mentors on their weekly fly-by pit-stop check-in. Pasting on giant, cheesy, shit-eating grins to assure you all that nothing whatsoever was wrong… and also because we knew while you were here, Slade wouldn't try anything.

Turns out, though, that the communicator thing was not the ONLY reason the computer was flipping out. Took all of three seconds to work out that someone had activated the mother of all electromagnetic fields in one of the Training Rooms, meaning we were only getting intermittent -if any- video feeds from the area. Bastard was jamming the frequencies, if you prefer that lingo.

We couldn't see in, and whoever was in there couldn't call for help. In a word: Slade.

The proverbial shit had hit the fan, and none of the remaining Titans were exactly sure how messy it was going to be until we got there… sometimes, I almost wish we hadn't… but we had to."

A shiver coursed through the assembled Titans, from one to the other, like a crowd doing a very subtle, non-verbal, 'wave' at a sports-stadium.

Roy paused his gruff diatribe, callous manner of describing the situation subsiding into silence as a dark expression clouded his features. Donna appeared uncharacteristically close-to-tears and avoidant, while Wally had her hand in a death grip almost as tight as the white lines his lips had been compressed into.

Nightwing was doing a rather wonderful impression of being made of stone, or whatever it was Batman made his stalwart Robins out of.

Therefore, it seemed that in this sudden crescendo of silence, it was Tempest who took it upon himself to impart the next part of the story. Despite seeing the chance to ask of his mentee some vital questions about the occurrences at Titans Tower those many long years ago that seemed to simmer under skin and tongue, they fizzled out to nothing when he beheld the soft, haunting pain in those beautiful purple eyes that looked on the room with sadness.

"I wish I could tell you another story, one where what must be said was never a reality… one where the world was not shattered for us in a moment of madness; but that would be a fallacy, and I will speak nothing but truth. All that is asked, is that you do not interrupt while I speak, nor that you would do so of the others should they choose to tell their parts… for it is hard to speak of these events as it is. And the telling shall not occur twice."

The deliberate evasion had the entire Justice League on guard, but in disjointed unison they all inevitably bowed their heads to acknowledge an acquiescence to his small request.

"Then, I shall tell you truly what it is I bore witness to, not so many years hence…" the Atlantean Mage said quietly, distinctively eyes looking somewhere just over their heads, as if back to the time he now described in calm intonations.

"Deafening, would be the word I would use to describe the alarms that shrilled through the Tower. Like the building itself was screaming, crying out for someone, anyone, to notice that something was terribly wrong within… that it's children were in grave danger; and we knew, we responded as fast as we could.

Cyborg immediately began running diagnostics through all the systems while Kid Flash enacted a floor-by-floor search at incredible speeds to ascertain where we might find the missing. Wally reported that his way was blocked to one of the lower Training Rooms, at the same instant that Victor, himself, came to this conclusion through technological means.

Speedy was already in the process of frantically trying to force the cameras and communicators to work; both seemed to only return static. The hissing white radiation of the stars brought only a heightened level of panic, whilst Cyborg strove to valiantly overcome this 'jamming frequency' being broadcast through the Tower. It was decided that myself, Speedy and Kid Flash would try a more… physical course of action, in the meantime.

To be exact, no words were exchanged between the three of us, but the primal growl that Roy released as he stalked towards the door and ran in the direction of the elevator was not to be misconstrued, and it resonated with me somehow. I found myself following along behind without any thought other than a fervent prayer to whoever was listening… that we would not be too late to help our lost teammates.

Wally flickered alongside, then ahead and out of view, reappearing more battered each time. Having raced along ahead down various flights of stairs, trying to vibrate through the thick metal of the Training Room doors to no avail. They had been made to withstand a full-on assault from Starfire's starbolts at maximum power… therefore they were simply too dense for him to shift through without injury."

Garth paused, clenching a fist tightly as if this might express what he could not find words for.

"Never had I previously known a single ride in an elevator to last as long as it did that day… and, as the others would tell you, I was normally quite taken with the machine. There was something about the simple pleasure of misusing the device to travel up and down for the sheer sensation alone. I never did thank those partnered to myself through the implemented 'buddy system' for their endless patience in the undertaking…"

There was a generalised grunting of assent, several Titans waving fondly dismissive gestures that clearly stood for 'no problem', before the Atlantean continued.

"When finally we reached the third floor, where all Training Rooms were located, as it was the most structurally sound portion of the building… Wally met Roy and I at the elevator. Vibrating in and out of view in his urgency, neither of us had the opportunity to do more than blink before we were moved, finding ourselves aligned in front of the very large metal door we sought to enter."

At this lull, Red Arrow once again broke into the telling with all the subtlety of a tornado in a trailer park. "The 'Training in Progress' light was on, rather deceptively. It was a nice touch, but we weren't stupid…

I did try to override the keypad's lock-out using our emergency override code, but that was immediately rejected for reasons I cannot fathom because it's supposed to have worked on everything. Hey, I was no Robin… and I didn't have a hack-attack arrow in my arsenal at the time. Of what I did have, even my strongest C4 arrows -which I may or may not have 'accidentally acquired' from a certain mentor's quiver when he wasn't looking- didn't do more than make a few scorched dents in the giant metal door.

Garth and Wally alternately threw a few punches, a both took a good old crack at trying to decode the encryption set on the lock… but nothing was working. Vic was still back in the tech room, trying to fight for control of the computer systems in the Training Room we were locked out of; then deal with the fallout from that attempt. See, it's the damndest thing… bastard booby-trapped the systems to release a virus that raced through our systems like wildfire, the minute it was accessed.

It took out everything. Any and all electronic item or technological operation in the Tower went totally haywire, and Cyborg couldn't stop it because he was down for the count too. We were on our own for this, with the Tower against us, and a madman with a Teen Titan fixation holding two of us hostage in a locked room. To be honest, the whole situation didn't feel good."

The archer laughed self-depreciatively, "You know, back then, at the time all this bullshit was going down… all three of us pretty much thought it was a bonafide miracle, some sort of heaven-sent pure luck that the massive malfunction triggered the Training Room Doors to open. Now, though… now we know it was all in that psycho's initial plan. We were meant to be standing there when it opened onto-... onto…"

Frustration actively seeped out of the archer, culminating in his snapping an arrow in half and tossing the wasted weaponry at a nearby purportedly-innocent pot plant, before the miniature plastique explosive in the tip did it's duty.

Flash looked at the small-scale explosion with a sort of detached interest. "I give you a Nine out of Ten for the BOOM, a Three for Storytelling… and a Negative Five for Anger Management."

The speedster hums, taps his free hand's fingers on the table at a rapid pace, and ceases with a sigh. "Nah, that's not really fair… we were all there that day. Some of us were more affected than others by what we saw him do."

Wally frowns, mentally revising that statement. "Well, no, we were all affected equally… but I healed pretty damn fast in all definitions of the word, and some of the rest of us never did. Not to say it doesn't linger in memory like a wad of evil used chewing gum."

"Um, Donna… you know I love you to bits, especially after all that alone time together, right?" The superhero waggled his eyebrows at her, she raised hers in response wondering where this was going. "...but could you maybe hop up and go, I don't know, hug Nightwing for like a minute or ten? If I'm gonna tell the next bit I just-... I need to pace, I need to be DOING something… or I'll explode or something!"

Without a word, Troia floated up and off of the speedster's lap and over to Nightwing, as the Justice League watched on with grim expressions pulled tauter than what should have been physically possible.

Wonder Woman's expression was torn between stony terror of what she suspected, and the desire to flip the meeting table, fly over to her little sister and crush Donna within the protective safety of her arms… goddess-enhanced so that Diana may never allow the world to hurt her again. However, she felt that this time her protective, sympathetic advances might be rebuffed. The Titans had imperceptibly closed ranks here, and the Justice League was outside looking in to slowly-clearing secrets and truths long kept hidden…

For her part, Donna slipped her arms about the waist of the still, shadowed vigilante.
Nightwing was watching his mentor in an almost… curious manner, from behind his mask; and most importantly, the visibly growing aura of dark intent that surrounded the World's Greatest Detective.

Hawkgirl had abandoned her seat and wa precariously balancing on Green Lantern's lap, trying not to swipe him with her wings, in an attempt to remove herself from the impending doom wreathing the human superhero.

Superman had a brave face on. The Kryptonian was, of course, horrified for the Titans in a round-about styled way, but was slightly more concerned with not being the victim of an accidental provocation. Because the last time he'd seen Bruce like this… it had been just after Jason had died, and the Joker almost didn't make it out of the revenge confrontation alive.

Yet, no one spoke.

Green Arrow and Aquaman each exchanging glances in the silence, as Wally paced laps of the room to gather together his thoughts.

. . .

J'onn was unobtrusively trying to pry just a little at each of the Titan's minds, as if to gauge the emotional states of each of those involved in the retelling of something obviously traumatic.

It was done of concern, and an offhand affection for the younger team.
On Mars, thousands of years past in the glorious days of the planet's prime, when the children had laughed and played without fear at all times of the long, long days and nights… if something like this had occurred, this sullying of innocence, it would have been sensed immediately through the bonds shared by parents and offspring. Words and such subsequent, painful retellings would never have been necessary to describe what had happened, or almost happened; the bond would have allowed them to see it.
The Perpetrator would then be dealt with by the telepathic force of several hundred thousand angered minds, all seeking vengeance as protective instincts flared. That was how his world had worked, a telepathic consensus that protected, nurtured the oh-so-rare young ones…

Earth was his home now, but still the whole concept of humanity -especially those of the Bat!family- continuously managed to confuse his Martian sensibilities.

For children to hide such a secret, as he sensed was tearing them apart at this very moment, for no one to have noticed before this very moment; for parents and siblings to turn a blind, ignorant eye to such suffering… even if only emotional, which was downplayed on this world far more than on his own, it went against his own nature.

However the more he reached out towards their minds, J'onn noticed a general stonewalling of his well-intentioned probing, stemming directly from the Titans; a shield built to protect themselves, and to keep trespassers out.

Trespassers like himself, and the world at large, it seemed.

The Martian Manhunter actually started, blinking in surprise as a dark voice interrupted his thoughts.

"We'd prefer if you didn't do that, J'onn. The sentiment is well intentioned, but there's a wall for a reason…" Nightwing mentioned, looking directly at the alien.

J'onn found his mouth parting to respond apologetically, but was cut off as all present noticed that it now appeared that Wally was ready to speak; and so, he allowed the unspoken apology to fall into silence. Mind full of confusing thoughts about these humans and their strange ways.

. . .

Gently, the tendrils that signified the careful telepathic touch of J'onn's mind with his own, receded with only the lingering impressions of sympathy confusion and positive intent.

Wally's body trembled, mind racing, a half-dozen conversations all occurring simultaneously in his head. With a firm shake, the speedster managed to clear all the periphery, non-essential thoughts buzzing in his mind, until only the memory of those doors opening remained in vivid detail.

And gods, how he wished he could shove it right back into the dark box of repressed memories he'd locked it in all these years. With a deep breath, he turned to face the others in the room.

"I suppose, at this point, you're probably all wondering exactly what it is we saw when the door opened… and the honest answer is, something that will haunt my nightmares for years to come."

~)0(~

To Be Continued...

...so, there's more of the mystery... after all these years, if anyone was still patiently waiting.

No idea why midnight felt like a good time to start messing about with a new chapter extrapolated from old ideas but hey, 4am is still a good bedtime, right?

Let me know what you think.