Chapter 7- He Took Him

Herald could not suppress the rising panic that bellowed forth from within him, threatening to breach his lips and become knownst to all those around him. The apprehension caught in his throat, restricting him to wheezy flitters of breath. He made to reach for his gullet, but when he caught sight of his arms and hands, he halted all further movement. The fabric of his sleeves had been singed and torn off, exposing his charred, reddened skin. The same could be said about his legs and parts of his torso. Some areas were worse than others, but the cruel inflammation would not let up in the slightest. Argent hadn't been kidding when she'd described just how bad of shape he was in. With a dreadful realization, Herald's mind finally registered just how close he'd been to death.

He had practically been on the brink of leaving this wretched world - and onto the path of discovering a new one.

The leader's suspended breath finally relinquished, allowing him the luxury of oxygen once again. With his mind somewhat more clearer than before, he felt an unfamiliar sensation, as if the evening breeze caressed his cheeks and the area around his-

His eyes.

Immediately, Herald jerked his hand upward, ignoring the jagged pain that erupted all over his body. His fingers grazed over the cloth that was positioned over his eyes, relief instantly flooding through him. The trumpet player could tell that parts of his grey mask had been seared and damaged, but so long as his eyes were fully concealed, he could tolerate his dreaded attire and put on a replacement later.

While Herald wasn't as obsessed with keeping his identity a secret as perhaps the more reclusive members of the Titans (such as Robin), he still didn't feel comfortable revealing it unless it was on his own terms. He knew that obscuring his eyes wouldn't keep people from figuring out who he really was, but the eyes were a special part of anyone's anatomy that could expose so much with so little. He knew that his identity wasn't one to fret about - he wasn't on some hit-list nor was he related to anyone noteworthy. Before the Teen Titans, he was a nobody, an indistinguishable face that was easily glanced over and forgotten in an instant.

But it was still apart of him. The eyes were a powerful thing; they told stories of nameless souls with a mere gander. They conveyed what words couldn't, memories that should never be spoken of. Because of that, Herald kept his previous pain and suffering to himself, partially out of selfishness, and partially because he was too afraid to let go and move on. Doing so would mean that those instances had in fact occurred and had not been part of some distorted reality. Some nights, when the nightmares plagued his mind at a fervent pitch, he would convince himself that they had been only that - nightmares, instead of a cruel tape forever stuck on replay.

As nighttime quickly approached, Herald could not tear his gaze away from the rubble and debris of the Tower. An empty void now filled the area in which the building should've resided. Scattered amongst the forest-floor were the remains of the edifice-chunks of smoking chaffs and unrecognizable furniture. Their equipment, their belongings - everything had been reduced to nothingness.

And on top of all that, Jericho was missing.

No, not missing, but stolen from them.

Kidnapped.

Not out for a midnight stroll, not strumming his guitar to raise their spirits, not even preparing to jump out and surprise them. It was all perfectly clear now. Jericho had been kidnapped.

And that one word was enough to send a chill up Herald's spine.

As the pieces of the puzzle finally came together in his mind, the leader's face twisted from shock and confusion to bitterness and malice. He grit his teeth, narrowing his eyes at the last spot Amerston's cronies had stood.

"They took him," Herald darkly declared, his tone icily detached. The team around him jumped a little at the sound of his voice, all lost in their own foreboding thoughts. Herald paid no mind to them as they inched closer, longing for answers on their missing comrade.

"The attack, the explosion…" he hoarsely recalled, "the Tower. It was all a ploy to get to him. We were distracted, off our game-they could see right through us. When the moment was right, they struck, and they struck hard."

"Destroying the Tower was just a bonus," Hot Spot bitterly acknowledged, causing Herald to whip his gaze toward him.

"They. Took. Him," he repeated, glare unfaltering. The revelation allowed the conversation to dip back into silence, the only sounds coming from the ominous breeze and rustling of the branches. The colossal trees cast dark shadows over their drawn-out faces, encasing them in a shell of desolation and hopeless defeat.

How could they have let this happen? What kind of a monster was ruthless enough to destroy their home and kidnap one of their own? To wound his team, to injure their egos - blood had been spilled.

And blood must be repaid.

Herald desperately tried to get to his feet, heels digging into the dirt as he made little progress. The rest of the team immediately reacted, shouts of protest spouting from their mouths as they made to reach for him.

"Get away from me," Herald maliciously hissed, yanking his arm out of their grasps. Agony sputtered over his skin, making the leader bite back a groan. He had to ignore it, he had to ignore them all. His best friend was in trouble.

"Herald," Argent spoke up. "You're in no shape to get up on your own. We needa get you to a hospital right quick."

The trumpet player glared at her. Hadn't she heard a word of what he'd said?!

"They took him," Herald repeated his earlier announcement, as if that would somehow clear things up.

"Yes, and my bloody skin's the color of silver," Argent sarcastically noted. "We can keep on declaring facts, but that doesn't make 'em go away."

"Then we need to find him!" Herald barked, "We need to rescue him!"

"Hey genius," Hot Spot spoke up. "In case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly a functional team right now. We're hurt, you can barely sit up-" he motioned toward the remains of the building, "-and the Tower is fucking non-existent! We can't just mosey-on-down to wherever he's being kept and declare they return our friend!"

"He's not your friend!" Herald shrieked, tearing his vocal chords further. "He's not any of your guyses friends! You never cared about him, I'm the only one who meant something to him, and now he's gone! I have to, I have to…" he let out another disgruntled screech as tears began to form in his eyes. No, no not now! He couldn't cry, not in front of them.

Kole, who had been sternly quiet during this ordeal, painfully whispered, "How could you say we never cared about him?"

At that, Hot Spot turned to Herald, stone-cold eyes glazing over him as he spitefully proclaimed, "Because, he's not a leader."

He knew that the blow shouldn't have stung - he'd been saying that since day one - but to hear it from the people who had believed in him, who had cheered him on, well, it hurt. And to see the disapproving look in their eyes be cast upon him made him realize that the hurt all went back to him. This was all his fault, and not only with the recent incident. His leadership had gotten them into this mess, had brought Jericho into the filthy hands of Amerston.

He couldn't do this anymore.

"He took him," Herald choked, "And you guys are gonna get him back." At that, his tense muscles finally relaxed as he fell back onto the floor, black dots invading his vision. He could hear the others call out, but their sounds were muffled as the familiar feeling of being underwater overtook him. The trumpet player stared at Jericho's communicator, still in the grasp of Kole, and blacked out.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for my prolonged absence, and for this pitifully short chapter. I started writing more, but it didn't flow right with the tone of this scene, so I decided to split them into two separate chapters.

Guys, thank you so so so much for your incredible reviews and heartwarming words. I'm really glad you're all enjoying this story, and I'm even more thankful that you have the patience to put up with my agonizing periods of absence. Thanks to all the guests out there too; I'm a friend, I'm not sure if I'm actually supposed to know who you are, but I thank you very much for your kind and thoughtful words. Once again, thank you all for supporting me and this story. I know it's kinda a train-wreck, but in all honestly, I'm happy where this train-wreck is headed.

Next update should hopefu- ah,who am I kidding. With finals coming up, I'll consider myself lucky if I post anything before June starts. Not giving up on this story though! You can count on that! :)