All-Purpose Disclaimer

Teen Titans is a registered trademark of DC Comics and Cartoon Network Inc. All trademarked characters, locations, themes and ideas are used without permission in a work of fan-created fiction. The following has been done without profit and purely for entertainment purposes. All original concepts, characters, themes and ideas within are the copyrighted property of the author, not to be reproduced without prior consent. Additional information used in creating Teen Titans: Avatar courtesy of Titans Tower Online.

In the muted light of a filthy alley, a strapping teen shouldered his broadsword and wiped the sweat from his brow. His mousy brown hair clung to his forehead, and the denim tatters hanging from his broad shoulders were soaked through and slowly turning red. Down at his feet, a growing pile of broken mechanical components settled into pooling hydraulic fluid. He squinted down the darkened alley and smeared the blood away from the corner of his mouth, forcing his ragged breath into something more calm and orderly.

Next to him, Stripwire grimaced as he held his split side together with one hand. A spent sidearm dropped from the other as he watched the last of their mechanical foes fall from his leader's last blow. He touched a metallic disk in his ear, scowling intently behind a pair of dark goggles as the two of them caught their breath. "Jason, we're getting slaughtered out here. One of the big ones broke through the line on Third. Magnum's down, and Juice isn't sure if he's dead or just unconscious."

"I know," was all Jason said.

"Jason, we're dying." Though two years Jason's junior, Stripwire displayed a calm far greater than Jason's. "We need to-"

Jason whirled upon him, twisting his features with rage. "I KNOW!" Anger spent, his voice dropped alongside his shoulders. "I know, Strip." He heaved a breath and returned his death-grip to the hilt of the sword. The stylized 'S' on his chest glittered under the streetlight. "Sound the retreat. Get everyone back to Sanctuary. There's only one, so I'll handle it. If you don't hear from me in an hour, I'm probably dead."

"And the contingency plan for that will be…?" To hear Stripwire speak, one might believe he was talking about a rained-out ballgame, not life-and-death.

His leader considered this a moment. "Queenie's in charge if that happens. She'll know what to do."

Even Stripwire's implacable calm broke. His eyebrows shot up from the goggles, and his mouth twisted down. "If I might point out," he deadpanned, "That is a poor strategy."

The pavement beneath them began to vibrate in slow, ominous pulses. Dumpsters and windows began rattling, first softly, but with growing volume. Between the roaring beats, Jason's sharp ears picked up the telltale whirr of machinery. The sound pierced his memory and froze his blood, bringing with it a collage of haunting images. "It's the best I've got at the moment," he growled. The tip of his blade swung to rest in front of his face, trembling with anticipation and dripping with oil and fluid. "Get going, Strip. Hurry."

There was a 'but' forming on Stripwire's lips, but he took one look at Jason's determined face and knew it would be wasted breath. "Do not die, Jason." There was a beat before he added, "Queenie is not fond of responsibility."

"Reason enough, I guess." The joke helped calm him some, but it was not enough to lift the deadly intent from his eyes as Stripwire retreated. By the time the boy's footsteps faded, the pounding and whirring had grown to a constant, ear-splitting howl. A shadowy silhouette emerged at the far end of the alley, rounding the corner with slow, inexorable steps on thick legs bent backward. The creature's massive torso pivoted and raised gorilla-like arms as it zeroed in on Jason. As it began ostrich walking toward the teen, it passed beneath the alley's streetlight. Its metallic surface was pitted and scorched with his teammate's efforts. A glossy black screen glowered at Jason from between its massive shoulders.

A thunderous battle cry rattled from Jason's hoarse lungs as he charged. Green fire leapt from the mechanical creature's arms, bracketing Jason's assault. The dumpster to his left melted, then exploded, beneath the erratic onslaught, raining garbage down upon the two combatants.

As Jason's sword tore into the mechanical creature, it dawned on him for the third time in as many weeks that these could be his final moments. The thought of death hadn't frightened him since his mother's last breath had rattled his name. But it wasn't just his death on the line; All of Sanctuary was counting on him. He needed answers. He needed help.

His sword ripped through the robot's torso as the creature slashed his chest. Queenie's voice echoed in his head, speaking aloud two simple words that drove him to an enraged nausea. Two words he could no longer ignore. They were his last hope.

Teen Titans.

Teen Titans
Avatar

by Cyberwraith9

Sanctuary: Reinforcements

"Ah!" Robin squalled as a disk of icy metal pressed against his bare flesh. "Why is it always cold?"

Looking around her stethoscope, Doctor Katherine Brown gave her patient a withering glance and pressed harder into his ribs, savoring the hiss that escaped his clenched teeth. "It's a tradition of cruelty that stretches back all the way to Hippocrates. Doctors for thousands of generations have been secretly spreading misery to sate their forbidden lust for human suffering. Now, are you going to hold still, or do I need to sedate you?"

"Aren't you supposed to be nurturing?" Robin groused.

Brown countered, "Aren't you supposed to be a superhero?"

"Point. I'll take that sedative now."

"Don't be too hasty." She removed the stethoscope and pulled away, moving to her desk in search of a new instrument. "It's a suppository."

A snicker arose from Cyborg, the room's only other occupant. Robin rolled his eyes, and for the fifteenth time that day he recounted the events that led him to such a humiliating situation. When he informed the Titans of his close encounter, the general consensus (following the uproar and disbelief) arose that he needed to go see an expert. There weren't many specialists on extra-terrestrial biology that were also on friendly terms with super groups. As a matter of fact, S.T.A.R. Labs was the only game in town. And when Brown, the head of S.T.A.R.'s Jump City facility, heard of a chance for a firsthand exobiological data collection, Robin thought she was going to reach through the phone line and pull him straight through to her lab on the spot.

That's why Robin currently occupied Brown's personal office, sitting on a padded table covered with butcher's paper and naked from the waist up. His patience was gone and his muscles were jittery from four hours of deep-tissue scans, humiliating tests, and more pictures of sensitive spots taken than he'd care to think about. He no longer cared about the alien wreck they were already calling "Fallen Songbird" in his honor, or the lump of ET nestled in his chest. He only wanted to go home and check on his recovering friend. "Are we done here?"

"Almost," Brown assured him. She drew a small syringe from a cabinet and examined it briefly, giving it an experimental flick. "I'd just like a physical sample of your blood to compare to the scans I took."

"I want to see the invasive camera again," Cyborg piped in. He leaned against a sensitive piece of billion-dollar equipment and examined a long, flexible fiber-optic lens, which had thankfully been sterilized since Robin's uncomfortable and degrading ordeal. "That was fun."

Doctor Brown braved the space between Cyborg's grin and Robin's fearsome glare. A tiny smirk arose as she produced a small medicated swab and began cleaning the crook of Robin's elbow. "I think the red stuff'll do, thank you."

Robin breathed a sigh of relief that was cut short by a nine-note number emanating from his utility belt. He plucked the yellow communicator from his waist, shifting and inadvertently bumping Brown's needle away. "Go."

"A new case came in," Raven deadpanned over the comlink. "Another rash of tech thefts." She noted Robin's nakedness, and added, "Nice pecs."

Cyborg tossed the camera aside, all business now. "Joker's locked up, and we returned whatever didn't explode."

"Not him. And not just LexCorp," Raven countered. "We need Robin to start analyzing the data the police sent us."

"We'll head out now, Raven. See you in a few." He replaced the comlink on his belt and gathered up his armored tunic. There was time enough for an inquisitive glance in the doctor's direction before his face vanished behind the heavy red folds of cloth. "What's the final word?"

Doctor Brown rubbed her chin as she considered her words carefully. "All my scans show is that it's attached itself to your nervous system via a series of tiny filaments. There's a slight increase in your metabolism, suggesting that the creature feeds off the nutrients in your bloodstream."

"It's alive?" Cyborg grimaced, repulsed. "What kind of creature is it?"

"Tough to say," said Brown. Holding up a hand, she said, "It's about the size of my fist, and it's covered with an exoskeleton that, thus far, has proven impervious to all of my scans. I've requested some equipment from our Metropolis branch, but it won't get here for a few weeks. We should get some answers then."

"And the craft?" asked Robin.

Brown shook her head. "Nothing we recognize. Our exolinguists are analyzing what we think are the craft's logs. As near as we can tell, it's some kind of escape pod. There wasn't much left of its pilot, but we're looking at that as well."

Robin nodded. "So what do I do in the meantime?"

She shrugged. "Eat when you're hungry, sleep when you're tired. So far, it's looking like you'll go down in history as the first human to contract a space tick."

It was tough to ignore the deep-throated chuckle rumbling from Cyborg. Robin reattached his cape to his shoulders, hooking it into the hidden clasps at his neckline. "Great," he muttered. "Let's go, Cy, before I break any more records."

The techno-teen moved to follow as Robin stalked toward the door. He snuck a smile at the doctor as he walked past and called after the Teen Wonder, "Don't worry, I'll drive real slow. And we can pull through a drive-thru if you want. After all, you're eating for two now."

Brown smiled as the two teenagers made their way out of her office. "I suppose the blood sample can wait until…" Her thoughts trailed off unfinished as she glanced at the syringe in her hand. The stainless steel needle was broken halfway to its base, and she was certain it had been intact when she first unwrapped it. "What the…"

Despite their earlier joviality, Robin and Cyborg were unusually quiet on the ride back to Titans Tower. With no disaster to race off to, Cyborg was forced to drive the speed limit, which made the trip to the Titan Transport Tunnel juncture that would take them underground that much longer.

Cyborg linked his subconscious subroutines to the T-Car's autopilot system, allowing his computerized mind to steer the car while leaving his higher brain functions free to converse. "You okay?" he shot sideways.

"Fine," Robin grunted.

There was more silence as the city blocks rolled by. Cyborg risked a glance over at his friend with his organic eye. Were Robin to slouch down any more, he might disappear inside the luxurious leather interior and not return until Cyborg's meticulous weekly detailing. There was a nigh-visible cloud of gloom hovering about his head. Even his black, spiky hair drooped with the weight of his misery. "Seriously," Cyborg said, "You're never this quiet unless something's wrong. Or if you're skulking. Or researching. Or just…Okay, so you're always quiet. But this is a different kind of quiet. What's wrong?"

Robin turned with a look of incredulity on his masked features. "Vic, I have an alien chest-burster nestled in my ribs. My mentor is furious because I took on his arch nemesis without so much as notifying him. My best friend is lying in bed, sleeping off a brutal attack I could have prevented if I had gotten my act together." Folding his arms, he slumped even further. Cyborg noted with a splinter of humor that he did not, in fact, slip into the seat. "How much more wrong do you need?"

"Okay. Sorry," Cyborg muttered. Another pause, and then, "You aren't going to get all moody again, are you?"

A sharp hiss of air exploded between Robin's teeth as he sat up. "Fine. I'm done."

"Good." As an afterthought, he added, "Because it was starting to feel like Raven in stereo around the Tower."

There was a beat before Robin began to chuckle, slowly at first, but then with greater force. Cyborg found himself infected by the muted mirth, and the pair shared in a round of laughter that melted the tension and stress away. The moment didn't last long, but thankfully, it didn't have to.

Robin's chortles trailed off in a satisfied sigh. "I guess you're right," he admitted. "Starfire's been up and about for the last three days, Batman's always angry about something…" His knuckles rapped smartly against his rib cage, and he added, "And bug boy here seems fairly harmless."

As long as his leader was in a good mood, Cyborg decided to push his luck. "Hey, Robin."

"What is it?"

"Why'd you want me to come with?" The decision for Robin to see the doctors at S.T.A.R. Labs was unanimous. What wasn't quite so unilateral was just who would be coming along. Naturally, everyone wanted to be there for Robin (though Raven maintained that hers was a morbid curiosity and not concern). Starfire nearly blew a hole in the wall when the Teen Wonder refused her attendance based on her health. He solved the matter by limiting his escort to one, and had then selected Cyborg to be that escort.

Robin became somber at the question. "When all is said and done, Vic, we don't know what this thing will do to me. I could already be dying of some alien disease, or mind controlled without even knowing it."

"C'mon, man…"

"That's why," Robin insisted stubbornly, "You have to be ready to take control of the Titans. In case anything happens to me."

"Dude." Cyborg was simultaneously touched and mortified at the awesome, slightly disturbing honor Robin was bestowing upon him. He shook his head and gripped the wheel tighter. "Not gonna happen, Fearless Leader. Won't be an issue."

Robin said nothing to this. He called up the dashboard keypad and stared intently at the monitor. There was no doubt that the conversation was ended there. "Coming up on Juncture Twelve. Street's clear."

Cyborg's mental relays sent the silent command to the empty street ahead of them. The road lifted in the middle of the intersection as all four streetlights turned red, in case civilian traffic came toddling through. Flashing yellow lights revealed themselves atop the newly formed wedge of road raised to reveal a ramp leading underground.

Slowing the vehicle, Cyborg was about to guide them down into the ramp's inky depths when a person bolted from the sidewalk and halted right in front of the juncture. There was barely enough distance left for Cyborg to slam on the brakes in time. The T-Car's bumper rumbled to a halt mere centimeters short of slamming into the pedestrian's kneecaps.

"Yo!" Cyborg's door flew open as he lumbered out of the car, quickly followed by Robin on the other side. He rounded the hood of the car with thunderous steps, taking his look at the near-victim. "There's better ways of getting an autograph."

"I don't want an autograph," the stranger said sharply, never letting his eyes drift from the T-Car's hood or his feet from their blockade formation. "I want your attention."

Silently she crept through the dull passages of Titans Tower and toward her mission objective. Stealthily like a cat, and quiet like a mouse, she moved with no more evidence than a puff of air. She moved as a shade would; drawing no notice, leaving no trace. It was vital that she not be caught, lest the other Titans discover her and force upon her punishments of unspeakable magnitude. Capture was not an option. Failure was not an option. The fate of-

"Kory, what are you doing out of bed?"

"Eep!" The cry squeaked from Starfire's mouth, even as a string of Tamaranian curses sang in her head. Guiltily, the alien pivoted in midair to face her warden, a blue-eyed blonde who, as of late, had been applying a disapproving scowl to her features with such frequency as Starfire might apply lip gloss to her own. "Uh…heh. Tara, I did not hear you approach."

Terra's expression became a mix of irritation and subtle amusement. "Kinda like I didn't hear you leave," she countered, pointing out Starfire's floating feet. Stealth came easily to one who didn't need to walk.

Starfire chuckled nervously as the soles of her shoes settled onto the tile. "Ah, yes. I merely wanted to-"

"-check to see if Robin's back," Terra finished for her. "He isn't, so get back into bed." She made shooing motions with her hands as she tried to herd Starfire back down the hall.

Something snapped inside Starfire's usually sociable nature. She stomped her heel on the ground as storm clouds appeared in her stunning emerald eyes. "I do not wish to return to my room!" she whined. "I have already recovered my mobility, and these bandages have erased nearly all evidence of my injuries." She gestured to the remaining bandages plastered to her skin, poking out between her violet uniform. At that point, they were there simply to contain the topical jelly generously provided by S.T.A.R. Medical to act in tandem with her impressive natural recuperative facilities. Combined with daily sessions with Raven, she had been assured that no scars would remain. "Why must I remain here?"

"Hmm, let's think." Terra brought a finger to her chin in mock-thought. "Because Doctor Brown told you to get plenty of rest for at least the next week. Because Raven told you that moving around too much would ruin her voodoo. Or because I said so. Pick any of those."

Before Starfire could reply, the Tower's PA system crackled to life. "Everyone," Robin's voice sputtered through invisible speakers, "Report to Ops. We've got some things to discuss."

"Robin has returned from the Lab of Stars!" Starfire nearly exploded with joy and relief. But then her face fell into a confused slump. "Yet he seemed abnormally somber, which would suggest a diagnosis of unfavorable results." That confusion blossomed into panic. "Robin is going to mutate into a horrible creature with tentacles and claws and drooling fangs and-"

"Kory!" Terra hurried to calm Starfire before the Tamaranian exploded with worry. She grasped Starfire's shoulders gently so as not to aggravate her injuries, and said, "Robin sounds fine. It probably has something to do with that case the JCPD forwarded us."

Hearing this helped Starfire calm down, but it didn't totally dispel her despair. "I must journey to the Ops to ascertain this for myself."

"No," Terra said, holding fast to Starfire's shoulder. "You need to journey back to your bed. I'll-"

A cold green fire blazed in Starfire's eyes, replacing her gentle gaze with glowing points of boiling danger. "I am going to see Robin," she said. "Should you wish to stop me, that is your own, and very poorly made, choice."

Terra swallowed a large lump in her throat and backed away. "So like I was saying," muttered she, "Why don't I walk you up there?"

"Thank you," Starfire gushed, "That would be wonderful!" The light of her eyes faded to a dull glimmer as a smile split her stern mouth beneath.

Starfire ignored the soft sigh of relief smothered on Terra's lips as the two young women walked to the stairwell and began ascending the two levels between them and Ops. She didn't care that she had frightened their rookie, or that every move she made lit her skin on fire. All she wanted to do was to see Robin, and to find out what the doctors had told him.

She had seen the way Robin moved throughout the week as he tended to her at her bedside, wrapped up the lasting details of the Joker case, and coordinated S.T.A.R. Labs' efforts with the ill-timed crash. Every move he made was weighted down with a secret guilt he hid behind that weak smile he conjured up for her. Even without looking into his eyes (something Starfire wept inwardly over her inability to do), she could tell. What was worse, the way his shoulders dropped just before her door finished closing behind him, when he didn't think she could see him, told her the effort was all for her. His guilt was her fault, and that tore into her worse than any cut ever could.

'Why does Robin blame himself?' Starfire wondered silently. 'I was the one who failed him. If Joker had not overpowered me…If I had not been so weak…'

The doors opened, chasing away the wisps of stray thought in Starfire's mind. Instead, her heart shone with joy at the sight before her. "Robin!" She shot forward through the air, pushing away the pain and the guilt and the anguish that had hung over her far too long, and tackled Robin in a hug.

Robin stumbled back a few steps and caught the projectile girl. "Starfire! Take it easy, okay? I'm glad to see you too."

She looked down into his white, soulless eyes held wide with concern. She stared into them, and the empty voids stared right back, dampening her delight. "I…uh, of course," she muttered, releasing him and pulling away, embarrassed and disappointed.

A throat cleared behind them. Turning, Starfire was caught off guard by a strange sight: Someone she didn't recognize was in the Tower. He stood slightly taller than her, and almost as broad at the shoulders as Cyborg. A crop of unruly brown hair clung to his scalp, matted and poorly maintained, and wrangled together with a dirty black rag into a ponytail. He wore a muddy blue denim jacket, with shredded jeans and a black T-Shirt stretched over his muscular form. A crude, graffiti 'S' was painted on the shirt, peeking out between the lapels of the jacket. Strangest of all was the hilt and pommel stone hovering over his shoulder, held aloft by a thin leather strap traversing his broad chest.

"A visitor?" Starfire asked, staring curiously.

The rest of the Titans gathered around. Cyborg seemed distasteful of the stranger's presence, but he simply stood by with folded arms and said nothing. Raven, too, wore a look of distaste, but that was true for any new person she met. Beast Boy and Terra exchanged first questioning glances, then helpless shrugs; neither of them knew what was going on. With no one else to turn to, Starfire looked at Robin, who merely nodded in the stranger's direction.

The stranger didn't even flinch as all six Titans focused intently upon him. He squared his shoulders and spoke evenly, giving each of them a hard look. "My name is Jason Hawke," he told them, "And I need your help."

To Be Continued