Author's Note: Both good and bad news. I've got a new job, so I'll be a productive member of the family again. But that also means less time for writing, which in turn means shorter chapters and more time between them. Sorry.
Robin lifted his head as Cyborg walked into the room.
"How is she?"
"Alive. But that's about all she is."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean there is nothing!" Cyborg snarled at him. "No alpha waves, no brain activity except for life support, nothing! Only the vegetative nervous system is active!"
He took a deep breath, tried to calm himself down. "Sorry, Richard. I'm just…"
Robin got up and placed his arm on Cyborg's shoulder.
"I know, Vic. But you must fight it. Don't give in. Don't give up."
Cyborg walked with heavy strides to the couch, sitting down on it and looking through the panoramic window, without focusing on anything. He lifted his metallic hands in front of his face and studied them carefully. They were shaking slightly.
"I didn't know I could do that" he mused.
"Vic, is there anything that can be done? Anybody that can help her?"
"I don't know. She appears to be in a deep coma, just like that girl they brought the day before. Same readings, same symptoms. Both are alive – barely. Both are little more than vegetables."
He took another deep, shuddering breath.
"The girl is in a more advanced stage. Rae told me that trouble would start in a couple of days. I'm not sure what she meant, but from what I could see I expect that her organs will soon start failing, one by one. I may be able to counteract it for a few days, but… it'll be a losing battle."
"And you think Rae will go through the same thing?"
Cyborg nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Robin sat beside him, trying to focus on the problem, to analyze it, systematize it, observe and measure it, break it into components and put it back together, seeking a solution; just like he did with all problems that he faced. He barked a sarcastic laugh at himself, realizing how futile it was.
Cyborg looked at him, scowling.
"What's so fucking funny?"
"I am."
Cyborg shook his head. "What now? What do we tell Gar and Kory?"
"Tell them they're in a coma and that they're not in danger."
"Lie to them?"
"Goddammit, Vic, what use would it be?" he exploded. He pulled himself together, rubbing his temples.
"It's not a question of use" Cyborg said quietly.
"Yes, it is. They can't help. The only thing it would do is depress them and make them suffer."
"She is their friend, just like she is ours. They are entitled to the truth."
Robin looked at him coldly. "I am not getting into moral debates with you. Tell them whatever the fuck you want."
They sat down, silent for a few minutes, both struggling with their inner turmoil.
Robin broke the silence. "We should at least go through the motions. What do we know?"
"I just gave you the medical information. I have little else to offer. You spoke to Raven. What did she say?"
"From what she told me, the guy is a demon. I'd say we need help from someone that knows demons."
"Sure, I'll just stroll out and pick a demonologist off the street" Cyborg growled.
"You're not helping."
Cyborg opened his mouth to shout at him, then snapped it shut, realizing Robin was right.
"What's up with Rae's mirror? It was on the floor beside her. It's part of it, I can feel it" Robin said, looking at him. "You and Gar went through it a few years ago."
"Rae said it was a portal into her mind" Cyborg replied. "What we saw inside confirms it. But it means we can't – must not use it."
"Why not?"
"Didn't you hear what I said? She has no mind right now!"
Robin stared through the window. "The guy never left her room?"
"Positive. I've checked the surveillance footage, including the IR cameras and all sensors in the hallway and around the Tower. If even a puff of air left that room, I'd have found it."
"Maybe he entered her mind through the mirror and made her this way?"
"Wouldn't explain the other girl."
He rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired. "Do we have any info on her?"
"Lots, all of it irrelevant. Name is Sue. Nineteen years old, working as a librarian, co-workers call her sweet but shy. School grades above average, but not much. Her parents and relatives check out fine. She's just your normal, common garden-variety teen. No indications of any hidden powers, possessions, strange behavior – nothing."
Robin turned to him. "I have a feeling science will not give us the answer. We need to look elsewhere."
"Magic?"
"We are dealing with demons."
"Well, that's kinda outside of my field of expertise" Cyborg pouted.
"Then we have to find someone who does know."
"Who do we know that uses magic?" Cyborg asked.
"Jinx. Maybe Argent."
"They're just users. They don't delve into it like Rae does. What about Mumbo? Mother Mae-Eye?"
"No. Mumbo's just a parlor magician. Mother Mae-Eye is a simple witch, a refugee from a fairy tale."
"Slade?"
Robin's eyes narrowed. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"You two went literally through hell together" Cyborg smirked.
"That doesn't make either of us a demonologist!"
"He certainly knows more than I do. He died and lived again. He was buddies with Trigon!"
"No" Robin said, shaking his head. He looked at Cyborg. "Trust me, Vic. Not because of how much I hate him. I know he can't help. He would just make us waste time, and we don't have much."
Cyborg sighed again. "I know. I'm grasping at straws. What about Zatanna?"
"She wouldn't touch Raven with a ten-foot pole. Don't you know the story?"
"You told it to me yourself. But still, doesn't she feel some responsibility?"
"Vic, she turned away a desperate fourteen-year-old when Raven came to beg them for help. Do you really think she'll lift a finger now?"
Cyborg's chest constricted at the unfairness of it. He got up, walked to the wall and smashed his fist into it, punching through the concrete and armor paneling.
"There has to be someone!" He looked at Robin. "Batman?"
Robin sighed. "He may have something in his files. I'll ask him."
Cyborg's eye suddenly widened. "Wait! Kyd Wykkyd?"
Robin's eyes snapped up. "He certainly looks like a demon."
"Can we get him to help?"
"We'll make him." Robin's eyes flashed as he turned to the console.
"What, right now?"
"Why waste time?" he said as he punched a set of keys.
The main screen lit up, showing Gizmo's face. He was half-turned, talking to someone, when he realized he was on.
"Who's pestering –" His eyes went wide, then narrowed in anger. "What the fuck do you pit-sniffers want? This is a private channel!"
"We need to talk to Kyd" Robin said calmly.
"Oh yeah? Well, lemme tell you something, snot-muncher. The Kyd don't talk to no one. And even if he did, he wouldn't waste his fucking time –"
A black arm pushed Gizmo off screen. Kyd's face appeared on it, his red eyes inscrutable.
"We need your help, Kyd" Robin said. Kyd just shrugged his shoulders.
"It's important!"
He cocked his head, one eyebrow up.
Robin swallowed. "I can't tell you. It's… private."
Kyd shrugged his shoulders again.
"We can pay you. A lot."
He looked at them for a moment, then slowly moved his head from side to side.
"Look, it's really important to us. We need your help. We can tell you when you get here. You have my word, we will not act against you."
Kyd's hand went forward to cut off the communication.
"It's Raven!" Cyborg shouted. Kyd's hand froze.
"She's in a coma. We need your help."
Kyd watched them for a few moments. Gizmo's indignant spluttering could be heard in the background. Kyd nodded.
"Can you get here quickly?"
Kyd nodded again and cut them off.
Robin turned away from the screen, heaving a deep sigh. He jumped up and back, startled, as Kyd materialized in front of him.
"That's… convenient" he stammered, recovering from his surprise.
Kyd cocked his head, expectant.
"Um… yeah. Follow me." Robin started for the infirmary, Cyborg and Kyd in tow.
They reached the infirmary. Kyd walked in, looking first at Sue. He placed his hand on her forehead, held it there for a moment and then frowned. He went over to Raven and repeated the procedure. His frown deepened as his head moved from side to side.
Robin's fists clenched. "Don't tell me that. I don't want to hear – to see it!"
Kyd put his hand inside his cloak and removed it, holding something. He then placed what he was holding in Raven's hands and turned to Robin, shaking his head again.
Robin looked at Raven. In her hands there was a black rose.
"NO!" he shouted. "There must be something!"
Kyd looked at the floor, then back at Robin. His hand went to Robin's shoulder, squeezing it in sympathy. He then swirled his cape around him and disappeared.
He found himself in a grey, featureless plain under a grey, featureless sky. The line of the horizon ahead was ill-defined, the greyness of the ground melding with the sky, almost indistinguishable.
If this is my mind, I must be a very boring guy, he thought wryly. Where to now?
There were no landmarks. Any direction was as good as any other. He got up and tried to release his power to levitate up. Nothing happened.
Great. Just fucking great.
He started walking. The ground was hard but elastic, with the consistency of rubber. No footprints remained on it.
After a while, his doubts surfaced.
I may be walking in circles. Does it matter?
He kept walking. There was not much else to do.
I am wasting a lot of time with this. I should get somewhere, see something soon.
He started dropping things behind him as he walked. Bills, coins, keys, anything he could find in his pockets. After a while, he found the courage to look behind and saw the straight line of debris that he was leaving.
So far I am going straight. But I'm not getting anywhere.
He kept walking, his despair increasing, his doubts multiplying.
Maybe I should turn, go a different way? To the left? To the right? It's all the same! How do I know? How do I decide? If only someone could show me, give me an answer…
He suddenly stopped, the realization hitting him like a blow. These were his doubts. His questioning. His indecision and ignorance.
His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He had a path. He had a goal. He knew what he had to do. There was no reason to question himself any more.
Looking ahead, he saw a mountain range in the distance. It wasn't there a moment ago. It was the only thing that stood apart from the featureless ground and sky around him, the obvious place to go.
But I will need days to get there. I don't have days. Unless…
He willed the mountains closer. Nothing happened.
Of course. I am being an idiot.
He willed himself there. Suddenly he was at the foot of the mountains, looking up at their towering peaks.
Glancing around, he saw a path leading up into the mountains. He followed the path with his eyes to its highest point. It was obvious to him that he needed to follow it. He willed himself to go to the farthest place on the path that he could see. Nothing happened.
Why am I not surprised? he sighed.
He started walking upwards, following the path. A sense of urgency invaded his mind. He sped up until he was trotting up, his breath regular, measuring his strides. Two strides inhale, two strides exhale.
Soon he could feel himself tiring. The path was uneven and his rhythm was constantly broken by the need to jump, step aside, slow down or speed up. This depleted his stamina even further. Somehow he understood that he must not stop. If he stopped, everything would be lost. He had to endure.
He breathed through his mouth now, his breath coming in quick gasps. His legs were hurting, the muscles protesting at the unending ascent he was forcing them to fight. His heart hammered in his chest, his mouth and throat dry, but he willed himself on.
The path turned to loose, crushed stones. It was not gravel, rounded and smoothed by ages of wear and erosion. The stones looked and felt like shards of obsidian, sharp as broken glass, unpredictable in their reaction when his weight was on them. Several times the stones rolled under his foot, making him almost lose his balance and fall, sapping even further the little strength he had left.
He clenched his teeth and plodded on grimly, his breath ragged, sweat dripping into his eyes, making them burn. He was not able to run any more. He was reduced to slow, painful walking, concentrated only on continuing to move forward and up, up and forward.
A stone twisted under his foot, then slid under it. His balance lost, he fell on his hands and knees, the sharp, jagged edges of the stones cutting deeply. He dismissed the pain, only allowing himself the realization that he must get up and go on. Nothing else mattered.
He couldn't feel his legs any more. He painfully gasped for air, the atmosphere already rarefied by the height. His heart thundered in his throat and his temples. Red mist floated before his eyes. He fell to his knees.
He couldn't get up, but he could go on. He crawled on his knees, leaving a bloody trail on the viciously sharp rocks. At first, he welcomed the pain, because it made him aware of himself again, but soon even that was denied to him. His legs were completely numb, his hands torn but unfeeling, his eyesight dark but for a single reddish, lighted circle, barely wide enough for him to be able to distinguish the path in front of him. Blood drummed in his ears for a while, before even that sensation was pushed away, ignored to save strength for the only thing that mattered, to keep walking, crawling, moving up any way he can.
The path suddenly disappeared and he toppled over the summit, rolling downhill, the loose obsidian rocks slashing at his body and face. He smashed into a pillar of rock jutting out of the ground, stopping his fall. He was lying on the ground on his back, his legs still twitching, trying to keep crawling, climbing, moving. He realized he'd made it; he reached the summit, he conquered. But his body did not understand it yet, still trying to move him forward.
He closed his eyes and tried to relax. He felt a soothing sensation wash over him, taking away the tiredness and pain. He opened his eyes and tried to get up.
Bracing himself on the pillar that stopped his downhill roll, he got up and fought a wave of dizziness and nausea. He checked himself, slightly surprised to find that all his wounds had disappeared. He was as good as new, except that he was exhausted, physically and emotionally. But he did understand that he would be unable to rest until the tests were concluded.
He looked down and saw the path ending at the foot of the mountains below. He willed himself there. This time it worked.
He passed under a stone arch towards a circular depression ahead, about a hundred feet in diameter. Two figures were waiting for him there.
He approached and recognized the waiting figures. They were the two muggers he killed a few days ago. They were not healed from the butchery; a better way of describing it was that they were put back together. Randomly.
The ripped-off arm of the first one appeared sewn to his neck in a rough fashion, while the head was still impaled on the tire iron and the iron was embedded into his body below the sternum. The legs were bent in strange shapes, broken in several places, but they held him upright somehow. There were several holes in his body, made by ripping teeth and scything claws. The second one looked almost normal, except for the ruined head, completely crushed above the upper jaw. He held his knife in his right hand, while from his left hand the skin of his face hung, the eyes opened and staring upwards in death. They stepped towards him, their intention clear.
"I will not fight you" Beltheniel said as they approached. They ignored his words and lunged at him. He retreated warily. They followed him with a single, obvious purpose.
He was confused. He would not – could not fight them. It meant giving in to his rage, releasing the evil he had inside. It would destroy everything he tried so hard to build. He couldn't simply run from them; it wasted time while Sue's and Raven's bodies slowly died. And if he allowed himself to be killed, that would leave Trigon as the undisputed owner of his body, mind and soul, with predictable, although unimaginable consequences.
The knife stabbed at him, the teeth in the impaled head clacked at him. He danced back, avoiding them, his mind working furiously. Two sets of eyes were on him. Strangely, their dead eyes were rolled up, staring at the sky, but Beltheniel knew that they were looking at him, gazing at him with hunger and hatred, wishing to see him bleed and suffer, wanting payback and revenge.
They split up, trying to catch him in between the two of them. He retreated as far as he could, but there was an invisible, impenetrable barrier now encasing the circular depression. Running away was definitely not an option.
Dodging the whistling blade of the knife placed him closer to the arm that jutted out from the neck of the first thug. Nails raked his face as the hand tried to grab his hair and hold him for the second mugger to cut him with the knife. Beltheniel jerked away and rolled between them over his shoulder, jumping up and retreating again.
They came at him from opposite sides again, making it difficult for him to keep them both in his sight and avoid their attacks. He stepped aside to avoid the grasping hand, just to feel a scorching, freezing pain in his chest as the knife raked over his ribs, slicing skin and muscle, fortunately not penetrating further. Blood welled out, dripping onto the elastic ground.
Frustration and pain fueled his rage. He kept it in check, but he knew it wouldn't last. Another slash, another wound and he would lose his grip, his fury exploding, his demonic form falling on his opponents and crushing them; intent as they were on his death, they were weak and easily destroyed. He could almost taste the desire to rip them into pieces so small that nothing and no one could put them back together.
Did they know they had no chance? Did they realize that if he transformed into his demon form he would annihilate them? Did they have any mind left to comprehend, or were they just mindless automatons, zombies reacting to the emotions that were graven into their souls at the moment Beltheniel ripped them from their dying bodies – fear, rage, hatred?
Again, the realization hit Beltheniel with the power of a physical blow. He bent over, overwhelmed by shame for what he had done. Breathing shallowly and quickly, he stepped back and straightened up, raising his hands to them, his shame bringing out compassion and directing it towards them.
"Please forgive me" he whispered. "I release you."
The two figures stopped, swayed, collapsed. Their souls whirled over the mangled bodies for a second, then disappeared.
Good work, Beltheniel.
"Shut up, Samael. If you're not going to help at least don't hamper me!"
Why would I want to do that? I have a vested interest in your success.
"Somehow I could picture you eating popcorn and enjoying watching what I had to go through. It was not a pleasant thought."
I confess it was… entertaining. Demons are certainly onto something with this mortal-baiting they like so much.
Beltheniel sighed. "Look, I'm busy. I still have a few small tasks left, like defeating an Arch-Demon and so on."
Of course. But the reason I am speaking to you is to let you know that I owe you one favor for successfully passing your tests. Think about it and choose wisely, as they say.
"One favor? How about banishing Trigon?"
Sure, if that is really what you want. As I said, think well and choose wisely.
"Just get me to where Sue and Raven are, please."
Right away. That one is free of charge.
His vision darkened, then he could see again. Sue and Raven stood before him, just as they were in real life. Sue ran to him and embraced him.
"Bel! You're here!"
"Of course I am. I couldn't leave you. I never will."
He looked at Raven. "Both of you are so… physical. I mean, I can feel her body, even though I know this is only her soul" he said, puzzled, hugging Sue close to him.
She smiled. "We're in your mind, Beltheniel. You see us as you want to see us."
He looked at Sue. "As long as we're together. Nothing else matters."
Raven frowned. "Look, I know you two are happy to be together, but there is still a small issue left that we have to solve."
"I know" Beltheniel told her. "I think this is what Samael meant when he said that this will be as much a test for you as it was for me. I passed my tests. It is your turn."
She sighed and looked down. "I don't know if I'll be able to do it. My powers… they don't work properly, maybe because I am in your mind, not in my body."
"If there is one thing I learned from what I went through, it is that there is always a way. Don't lose heart."
"I hope you are right. We'll see soon enough."
Four eyes opened in front of them; four rips in the fabric of reality, flames of scorching hellfire blazing in them.
Indeed we will, dear daughter.