Hello my beautiful, wonderful, patient and forgiving readers...
I know I promised to finish this story before the summer began... unfortunately I was unable to keep that promise.
It's because this last chapter is turning out so dang long... It's still three chapter's worth of material to cover, and no time to write! But I promise you, FF and BB/Rae fans, I am not dead, and I will see this story to completion... eventually.
Now, obligatory disclaimer: I'm TwistedPremise, and I don't own anything even remotely related to the Teen Titans or their intellectual property. I also don't make any money off this activity.
The next week seemed to drag on forever for Changeling.
Nightwing's "physical recovery" program- designed to bring a Titan who's body had atrophied while injured back to ideal levels of physical form and combat proficiency- kept him in the gym nearly half the day, every day, in addition to his normal individual and team-based training. It seemed like all he did all day every day was work out.
In itself, that wouldn't have been so difficult. He enjoyed training… when he was in shape and it mostly consisted of maintaining his condition. This wasn't that. Apparently, whatever afterlife forces that had seen fit to restore his body hadn't protected it from waning during his week-long recovery, and it was going to take several weeks of intensive workouts to restore the muscle mass and conditioning he'd lost.
His nights were similarly busy. He took on more patrols- his "thank you" to the rest of the team for covering his shifts during his time working on the movie script and while in the coma, which left him out of the tower and exhausted.
He was also responsible for writing a mission log for the events of the past month, a chore that Nightwing normally handled for team missions but now fell to him because he was the only Titan with all the information. There was just one problem:
Changeling hated writing mission reports… hated them with a passion. Normally he'd just write a bad one and let Nightwing fill in the gaps, but the team leader was being particularly stubborn about this one.
"No," Nightwing didn't even look up the third time Changeling found him in his office.
"You didn't even look at it this time!" Changeling complained, not caring that his voice was embarrassingly whiny.
"Is it more than five pages?"
"Yes."
"Increasing the font size doesn't count."
Changeling just grunted, slumped his shoulders and turned on his heel, drudging out the door.
Anal-retentive busybody, he whined internally. It's not like anyone but the Titans could read it, and we all know what happened.
Well, mostly. He amended.
Changeling would never admit it, but the problem with this report in particular was that he kept getting distracted when writing it… distracted by the stuff he wasn't putting in… the parts about Raven, and the Beast, and Raven and the Beast…
Changeling shook his head as if to dislodge the line of thought through force.
Not going there, not going there, not going there….
Changeling wouldn't admit it, but this week had felt painfully long for another reason… He hadn't seen Raven since the rooftop with Jericho and Ravager.
He'd have blamed her for avoiding him, actually, but he'd been so busy recently it was hard to tell whether she was actually in her room more often or whether he was just missing her.
Actually, there was no question he was missing her, but that was beside the point.
Raven had been particularly scarce of late, in his estimation, and he wasn't sure whether that was good or bad. On one hand, he hoped it was because she was preoccupied with other things… things which would pay off for them both in the near future. One the other hand, he really wanted to see her.
Part of him just wanted some validation that she hadn't changed her mind… he was still coming to grips with the idea that they were actually dating (a weird, not-sure-what-kind-of-dating-this-is dating, but a relationship nonetheless).
Part of him wanted to know how her research was going… for obvious reasons.
But mostly… he just wanted to be with her.
Like, chilling-on-the-couch, not-doing-much-of-anything-while-she-read-books-in-the-common-room with her, or entertaining-Starfire-with-cute-puppy-forms-while-she-sipped-tea-and-tried-not-to-smile with her.
Heck, right now he'd settle for begging her to help him with his mission report.
He paused as he reached her door in the hall, hopelessly wishing it would open and reveal her standing there, giving him an excuse to follow her to the kitchen for second breakfast (which was totally a thing, Mary and Pippin said so), but alas it did not.
And he knew from experience the past five days that knocking wouldn't change that. The only time Raven emerged was for training, after which she'd grab a quick snack and disappear back into her room, or to Jump University's library (which had long ago agreed to borrow ancient tomes from museums or other schools for Raven's perusal).
Sighing, Garfield turned and made his way to his own room, resolved to bang his head on the keyboard and hope that the keys ended up producing a passable mission report.
At least that should keep me from thinking about her….
Nightwing just shook his head, chuckling as Changeling exited the door. Ten bucks says he comes back with one word on each page and says it's "spacing."
He didn't even bother looking up as the door hissed open. "Changeling, I told you, if you didn't want to write a full report, you shouldn't have pulled a secret month-long mission solo."
"I'll take that into consideration next time."
Nightwing's head popped up to find Raven standing in front of him, a slight smirk quickly resolving into her passive mask.
Part of him felt chagrinned for guessing his guest wrong. Though, given that I haven't seen Raven out of her room except for patrol or training, literally anyone else was more likely. "Raven, good to see you out and about. What can I do for you?"
Raven's good humor visibly faded… that is to say, her stoic expression hardened.
"What is Grief Protocol?"
Nightwing's mask shifted with his raised eyebrows. Oh-oh…
Raven must have sensed his apprehension. "I read the mission reports. Cyborg's mentioned it but didn't explain what it was, just the sealed file number… which apparently doesn't exist in the Titan's records-"
That's because it's in my personal, secured hard drive locked with my rotating passwords. Even Cyborg can't identify or access it without my directions.
"-And Starfire's report mentioned specifically that when you arrived to the warehouse your first priority was to get close to me." Raven's eyes narrowed on her leader. "Batman had you prepared for if I went rogue. What is Grief Protocol?"
Nightwing sighed and reached for his belt. "These."
Raven looked incredulous. "Handcuffs?"
Nightwing nodded, unable to look her in the eye. "In the event that you lose control of your powers, are coopted by a hostile entity, or otherwise endanger civilians, I'm supposed to knock you out and/or put these on you." He clicked them open to show her the silver lining on the interior of the cuffs.
"Pure iron shell means you can't affect them with magic, carbon fiber interior means you can't just break them off."
"But how would that-"
"Supercapacitor battery inside emits an initial shock to knock you unconscious or distrupt your focus."
Raven fell silent, and Nightwing's whisper betrayed his shame at what he held in his hand.
"Subsequent pulses and a constant low-voltage current prevent the subject from focusing or resisting arrest until they can be permanently detained." Nightwing continued, as though reading from a manual… a manual he was ashamed to have memorized.
Nightwing finally looked up at Raven, fearful for what he expected to see. "You probably read that I ordered Cyborg to prep the safe room."
Raven's far-off gaze was unreadable.
"Raven you have to understand, if I had known what you were actually doing, I'd have never-"
Raven seemed to snap out of her daze, but not to glare at her leader. Instead, she pursed her lips, frustrated, but clearly not at Nightwing. "You did the right thing."
Nightwing was confused. "I- I thought you'd be more upset about this…"
Raven waved her hand dismissively. "It's a taser and mild electrical stimulation to prevent mass genocide. I'm not worried about it."
Nightwing couldn't help but notice the way Raven's eyes were dancing across the floorboards, like her mind was racing. She's frustrated, he realized. She came here looking for something, and this wasn't it. "Raven, what's going on? Do you need help with something?"
That seemed to snap her out of her thoughts. For the first time since entering the room, Raven's tense façade broke. "No," she pulled a chair back and sat, massaging her temples. "No, just…. curious."
Yeah, and Harley Quinn makes a great therapist, Nightwing resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Raven's next question surprised him. "What if the Safe Room were destroyed, or I broke free?"
Nightwing gulped, getting some sense of where this conversation was really coming from. "Raven, if you're worried about going rogue, I know you'd never-"
"How would you stop me?" Raven insisted, still not looking at him behind her hands, still kneading her furrowed brow. "If you wanted to stop my powers without permanently harming me for an extended period of time, how would you do it?"
There was something in her tone… not fear, not desperation, but still like desperately trying to solve a riddle of personal interest…
"Raven, where is this coming from?"
Raven tensed, and the extra chair next to her cracked in half.
"Okay, okay…." Nightwing placated. I don't know why this is so important now, of all times, but she's obviously rattled… "I don't expect that to ever be necessary, Raven, I don't have anything but short-term solutions for any of the Titans- I can't let myself start distrusting the team like that…"
Not like him, he amended.
"…but if you really want to have that conversation, I can put in touch with someone who does."
Raven looked up, and Nightwing saw a spark of hope deep in her eyes.
"Tell me."
It was an exceptionally dark night in an exceptionally dark city. Raven suppressed a shiver as the breeze blew across the gravel rooftop, some fifty floors above the twinkling street. She stood stoic, resisting the urge to pull her cloak tighter around her.
She remembered this city. She remembered hiding in its shadows, hunting for scraps and sleeping behind its dumpsters. She remembered fleeing from every stray sound, even the rats scurrying in the trash. She remembered the feeling she could never wash off, the pungent odor of the filth and grime that pervaded its aura…
And she wasn't just referring to the state of its alleys and parks, either.
The grime had settled into its people, then. The entire city reeked of fear, of madness, of depression. It was largely a city without hope, then, and that's what had drawn her to it.
If there's anywhere too far gone for me to corrupt further, she'd reasoned, it's Gotham.
She remembered leaving, swearing to herself that she'd never return… but she was desperate.
Five days and nights of research had turned up nothing. Every book, every memory, every spell…. Nobody knew how to block outbursts of demonic magic. Sure, Iron was immune to her spells, and the occasional villain might have been able to block her conscious spellcasting abilities (Mumbo came to mind), but there was nothing- no material, no spell, no rune she could find which could block her from releasing subconscious bursts of energy.
She remembered many such outbursts of energy last time she was here… the fear and desperation rippling out when a baker had found her rummaging through his dumpster before she could teleport away…
She remembered the eyes that watched her back then. The aura that seemed to know exactly where she was, at all times, no matter what. While he never revealed himself, she always knew when his glare was on her, even though he never showed himself.
She felt that feeling again now, and straightened. I am not that girl I used to be, she reminded herself. He is an ally, and I have every right to be here.
She kept her eyes forward, resolved to wait, standing in the shaft of moonlight until he finished his appraisal.
It didn't take long.
"Raven," a deeply-graveled voice acknowledged from somewhere behind her and to the right.
"Batman," she returned.
"Nightwing says you have questions."
So much for pleasantries, Raven noted, aware of the irony. So that's how everyone feels when talking to me.
She nodded, confirming for the hundredth time that there were no towers nearby with vantage on their meeting. I don't much care for this conversation becoming public knowledge.
"What's your contingency plan for me?"
There was a pause…
"What makes you think I have such a plan?"
There it is, Raven knew in that moment that the answer was here, if only she could get to it.
"Nightwing has a plan to subdue every member of our team," she observed, remarking without ascribing the idea any positive or negative value. "He calls mine 'grief protocol,' likely because the most plausible reason he'd have to use it is if I suffered some form of tragedy and sought revenge on the villain."
She let her reflection hang in the air, the clinical reflection belying the sensitive nature of the topic.
"I know he has them for the rest of the team, has since we started working together. He built them into the Red-X suit."
"Then perhaps you should ask him for such a contingency plan. I have more pressing concerns-"
"I don't think you do."
The boldness of her assertion startled even her, but she maintained her impassive posture as she felt his aura shift behind her.
"I have a city to tend to."
"I'm well aware of your night job," Raven called out. "I also know that you took time away from it to keep an eye on a young girl who just wanted to hide in your city's shadows after she was turned away by the League."
The silence was thick, cold as the Dark Knight processed her acknowledgement… and the unspoken accusations that came with it.
"I think you were doing your research," Raven continued, "even then. You were watching me, looking for signs that I was dangerous, looking at ways to stop me if I ever became a threat."
She let her clinical, disinterested tone harden. "I want to know what you found."
His retort was quick this time. "And why would I tell you, if such a technique did exist? Why would I compromise a potentially crisis-averting tactic by revealing it, thus enabling you to undermine or avoid it?"
A fair question, Raven acknowledged. In truth, she wasn't certain she could answer it satisfactorily enough for the League's most cautious and secretive member. But I have to try.
She turned to face the statue of a man, spreading her arms to show herself unarmed- an admittedly symbolic and meaningless gesture.
"Because you owe me, you and all the League. Not just for when I first arrived on Earth, but for outsmarting the man who had you chasing his string for months."
Batman was about to retort when she continued.
"Because no one knows me better than I know myself, and if I know your plan now I can help you tailor it to guarantee success should it become necessary."
She caught his surprise spike before being suppressed, and she knew her willingness to help him had the desired effect.
"And because nearly two weeks ago I proved that it will never be necessary."
That was it… that was everything she had to work with… and Raven could only hope it would be enough…
The Dark Knight was not so easily moved.
"If you have a debt with the League, take it up with Zatanna and Superman. I'm a part-timer, Zatanna was the advisor to the league for your case, and it was Superman's villain who put you in the crosshairs."
And thus, one argument died.
"The advantage of surprise is more valuable than any advice you are likely to give me-"
-that's two down-
"-and all you proved in Jump is that while you didn't take any casualties of you own free will. You could always be compromised, in which case a contingency may be necessary."
And that's three.
Raven felt despair sink in as she realized she'd leave empty-handed.
"However," Batman continued, "Nightwing vouched for you, and I take his recommendation very seriously. He made it clear that he trusts you, and that this is of particular importance."
Raven's eyes grew wide, and she tamped down on hope lest she risk damaging something in front of the Caped Crusader and losing any chance she had left. Could he really…
"I don't like meta's in my city, I don't like revealing contingencies, and I don't like unanswered questions," Batman growled. "So tell me why you need this information and go back to Jump so I can get back to my patrol, and if I'm satisfied with your answer I'll send you my file on how to contain demonic magic."
Raven was so shocked with his acquiescence that she almost missed the question she was supposed to answer. Let's see how little I can give away here…
"It's personal."
"Not good enough."
Raven sighed. He really didn't leave any options here, did he?
Of course he didn't, she mocked herself. He's Batman.
"I'm looking for a way to temporarily prevent the expression of my energies," she explained. "Over time, I've learned to express subtle things, but I've reached an impasse of sorts…"
The blank stare of white lenses in a black cowl revealed no sympathy to her struggle.
"The incident with Deathstroke showed me that I'm still emotionally vulnerable, able to be manipulated. Obviously, that's dangerous, but so is any exploring of my emotions without safeguards. I need a way to prevent outlashes or stop them from destroying anything while I experience more… intense… emotions."
Raven fought back a blush as she tried not to think of exactly what type of "intense emotions" she was preparing for.
"You should have led with that."
It was only because Raven had a lifetime of experience expressing herself in shades of monotone that she picked up the subtle grin in the dark man's voice.
"So you do have a contingency" she confirmed.
"Of course," he dismissed. "An individual with your capabilities… I've found the greater the power, the greater the Achilles heel. Even Superman has Kryptonite."
"Besides a taser?" Raven quipped.
"That was a first draft," Batman confirmed, "a stopgap while I researched more permanent arrangement. Should you ever go rogue, the League needs a reliable and humane way to stop you and hold you for questioning."
"And you found one that doesn't involve a panic room?" Raven let some incredulity creep into her tone.
"Panic rooms are unreliable and inconvenient," the Dark Knight replied. "Even Arkham isn't inescapable, I prefer a more flexible solution."
"So what is it?"
The Batman's glare lowered. "Not yet. You've answered my question, now get back to Jump. Once you get there, prove it by loading a file onto the Titan's network… the training video from one month and 13 days ago. For some reason, Nightwing has that file stored somewhere even I can't reach it, I want to know why."
Raven blinked at the sudden change in the conversation. Does he monitor all our video? Does he read mission reports for all the Titans? Does Nightwing know?
The Dark Knight seemed to read her mind. "I only monitor Nightwing's development and information critical to League operations and security. And he suspects, I'm sure, or he wouldn't have hidden the video."
Raven tried to remember what video might be in question… and then it came back very clearly. Hard to forget shirtless Garfield sparring with Nightwing…
Raven actually smirked. "I can't imagine why Nightwing would want to secure footage of Garfield kicking his ass in unarmed combat."
Raven actually felt Batman's surprise (though to his credit, it was entirely imperceptible on the exterior).
"That, I have to see." Batman turned and strode for the edge of the roof.
Raven couldn't help but grin as she pictured Nightwing's response to that video getting out… and then she sobered as a though occurred to her.
"What if I can't get the video?"
Batman crouched on the parapet, looking over his shoulder at her.
"Then you'll have to explain to Mr. Logan why exactly you'll be restricting your make-out sessions to the panic room."
Then he leapt from the ledge, and Raven heard the rustling of fabric as his cape stiffened and carried him into a glide over the streets of Gotham.
Raven, for her part, could only hope her bright blush faded by the time she made it to Jump City.
Cyborg had a certain routine to his mornings.
Barring an emergency boot-up, he liked to warm up (literally, his systems physically cooled to preserve battery life while asleep) with a diagnostic, a sweep of the Tower's systems to ensure full functionality, and maybe a review of his emails before venturing to the kitchen for breakfast.
Suffice it to say, waking up to see Raven standing in front of his recharging station was not part of that routine.
"GAGH!"
"Good morning to you too, Cyborg."
"Geez, Rae, sorry, but you know that's like, the second-most common trope in horror movies, right? Waking up to find somebody staring at you?"
"What's the first?"
"Huh?"
"What's the most common trope?"
"Oh, right. It's a chick investigating mysterious noises in her underwear."
Raven scoffed. "Typical."
Cyborg shook his head to dislodge the early-morning grogginess. "Okay yeah, so, aside from trying to give me a heart attack, why are you waiting for me to wake up, again?"
"Do you still keep a hard copy of all the training footage you take?"
Cyborg groaned, it's too early for this. "Yeah, all backed up to my off-line drive and the Titan's network, why?"
"Nightwing's got a file hidden I need."
That woke Cyborg up. "Wait, 'Wing's got a video he doesn't want available to the network? You know which one?"
Raven handed him a slip of paper with a date and time scrawled on it. "Remember the day Changeling sprayed Starfire with ink? It's the sparring session between Nightwing and Changeling."
Cyborg's flawless memory ensured he knew exactly the incident Raven was referring to.
"Of course 'Wing would pull that one off the server," Cyborg mused. "Oh, I am so re-uploading that one, and I'll lock it so he can't pull it anytime soon…"
Raven merely nodded, satisfied that her work here was complete.
Cyborg mentally pulled up the file and resubmitted it to the Titan's file servers, watching the progress bar race to 100%...
"So, Rae," Cyborg's tone smoothed over, a false attempt at subtlty. "What's the big deal with this video to you?"
He glanced away from the progress bar to see that he was too late. Raven was gone.
Raven reappeared in her room just in time to hear her communicator chirp. She flipped it open to a message from an unknown source.
Instructions and materials are on their way. ETA 5 minutes.
Four minutes later, Nightwing pinged her communicator.
"Morning, Raven. Radar's picking up a bogey incoming, it's the Batwing's ID signature. I take it this is for you?"
Raven nodded. "I'll meet it on the roof."
The pitch-black jet was just in sight when Nightwing came out the stairwell and joined her.
He shrugged when she looked at him sideways. "Never know whether he's on board or not."
Raven nodded and watched the jet approach.
"What did you offer him?"
If Nightwing was surprised by her question, he didn't know it.
He didn't answer, either.
"What did he ask you for, Dick?"
Nightwing sighed. "Bludhaven's organized crime has started spilling over to Gotham. He wants me to take Star and try and beat it back… three weeks, six tops."
"And why Starfire?"
"Because he wanted me to do it solo, I refused, so he agreed to only one person- to watch my back."
Raven felt a pang of regret. "You didn't need to-"
"I know him, Raven," Nightwing shook his head. "He doesn't trust anyone, he was never going to give you what you needed without something in return."
And here I thought I was doing the bargaining on my own, Raven mused. He played me…
"Besides," Nightwing continued. "I should really be thanking you. Star will be thrilled when I tell her we'll be going on a six-week date to a new city, living undercover as newlyweds…"
"She'll hug you to death," Raven quipped. "And once you explain it's a mission, you'll be lucky if it's accidental."
The Batwing reached them then, hovering over the landing pad.
A small package dropped from a hatch at the base of the plane, and the jet accelerated again, banking to return to Gotham.
Raven debated taking the package to the privacy of her room, but curiosity got the better of her. She tore the nondescript packaging tape with one fingernail, folding back the lids to reveal…
"Raven, why is Batman sending you a bag of sand and a bar of iron?"
There was a label attached to the bag, and Raven pulled it up to eye-level to read the tiny font.
As soon as she did, the bag fell to the roof, glowing black.
It can't be…. Raven gasped. I thought there wasn't any left in this dimension…
It shouldn't have been possible, but Raven couldn't deny what she saw, what she felt…
In her shock, Raven could feel a bolt of uncontrolled energy being released…
But the only thing glowing black was the sand in front of her…
It is… she realized. The ashes of a man possessed by a demon and burned alive…
Helldust.
A/N: And that's it for now... Mwahahaha. I know, not my most compelling chapter, but hopefully you guys enjoyed it! It was fun to write "omniscient Batman" squaring off with "self-aware Raven" though I think that's the last of my greater Justice League cameos.
As usual, I live for reviews, absolutely can't get enough of them, so do your worst! If you enjoy my writing, please go check out my two other TT stories on my page and let me know what you think about those, as well!
Happy Fanfic'ing
-TwistedPremise