Redux 3: There Goes My Hero

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter Two:

"Oh Azar, I'm so sorry… I didn't see you, this is so embarrassing…"

Groggy, almost bloodshot from fatigue, green eyes awaken from the darkness, looking up into the bright, crystal blue sky. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with his body outside of the feeling he'd been sleeping for quite some time. "Where am I?"

Drifting his eyes over to his side, the sight of a woman standing next to him catches his attention. Sitting up, he dusts off his overcoat, curious as to whom this mysterious woman is. "I'm sorry, I'm still getting used to this." Revealing two open palms, she continues her odd stream of thought. "I just got the hang of this whole thing and I'm not too sure…?"

A hand on his head, the headache begins to set in although it's cause is beyond him. "Hey, relax, you didn't kill me, right? Although it feels like you took a good shot." Standing up, he finally gets a chance to meet this woman eye-to-eye, although given the six or so inches over her, that's more figurative than literal.

The curly-haired woman with the odd blue hue offers a shy look, pale white face glowing red with embarrassment. "Well I was trying out this new… ability I've been learning and I didn't know you were… napping… behind the bushes…"

Letting go of his head, Gar points out the jewel on her forehead as well as the blue robe around her shoulders. "Jewels and robes, defying fashion are we?"

"It helps center myself when I'm practicing my craft. You know it's the middle of June, right? People don't wear trench coats, especially when they're sleeping in the park."

Eyeing up his brown duster coat, Gar replies back with a bit of mock-hurt in his voice. "There's nothing wrong with my coat, it makes me look cool when the wind takes it."

There doesn't seem to be any anger coming from Gar, none that she could sense at least, the smile on her lips comes more out of relief than happiness, at the moment. Then again, this guy's kinda quirky. "I'm sure. So, are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah, just took a little air to clear the brain." Seeing the smile on her face, Gar asks coyly "I don't suppose my mystery woman has a name, does she?"

Offering one hand with a bracelet, the robed woman offers the taller man. "Rachel Christina Roth. And you are?"

Although his hand seems much larger than hers, for him it feels like the perfect fit. "Garfield Mark Logan, pleasure to meet you Ms. Roth."

March 15, 2011

The three-quarter moon seems so large when it's rising over the skyline of Jump City, Luna's pale light drowning out even the Jewel of the West's maze of skyscrapers and streetlights. For the gathered assembly of young men and women in the Titans Tower, the situation isn't quite so beautiful to their dismay.

With Nightwing, Cyborg, and Raven tending over him, Garfield "Watchman" Logan lies motionless on the bed, machines beeping and reacting to his lack of stimuli. While technically "alive", there doesn't appear to be any sign of consciousness from the vigilante, none since the needle struck his spine hours prior.

"Well, the good news is Gar's still alive, he doesn't appear to be in danger." Reading aloud the results from his scanning array, the good bit of news should help with the situation… until he fires off the bad news. "Bad news is he's not responding to medication and he's pretty much comatose. Whatever that needle injected him with did one of hell of a job knocking him out."

Nightwing, always the astute leader of the team, asks his friend for any sign of a suspect. "Any idea who might've fired the needle? Fingerprints, inscriptions?"

"No prints and the needle's just like any other one you'd find in the city." Rubbing at his chin, Cyborg looks to the green man lying helplessly on the bed. "If they wanted to kill him, they could have; the needle proves that. Question is why didn't the shooter use a bullet?"

"We'll be asking the shooter that, and then some. In the meantime, we need to find a way to bring Garfield out of his coma." Cool eyes behind the mask turn suddenly to the woman sitting next to Gar; this will be both delicate but necessary of him to ask. "Raven, you used your psychic abilities to enter my mind once, could you do that with Garfield?"

"I don't know if I can reach him in this state. When a person's awake, it becomes easier to travel through their consciousness."

"We have to at least try, for his sake."

Nodding in agreement, the empath of Azar grounds herself, closes her eyes, and begins to chant three whispers of words all-too familiar to the men around her.

Somewhere in the Bay Area, the assassin known as the Black Ghost moves through the secret HQ of the Illuminati. With several criminals cheering him, and several others criticizing his leaving the battle early, the cool-as-ice hitman marches towards the front as though surrounded by nothingness.

"Ah, here he is, the man in black that always leaves his mark." Stepping forward to meet the young assassin, Dr. Light grins proudly at the youth's accomplishment. "I take it your little diversion paid off?"

Removing his helmet, the dark-skinned killer before him also grins in accomplishment, albeit it less evil than Light's. "Adonis's animal distraction was all that I needed. I doubt the Titans suspect someone who appeared to cowardly flee from a fight would hang around a wait for an opportunity."

"Hah!" Eyes still wide and full of glee, Dr. Light looks behind to the other leaders in his group. "Hear that, men? Unlike that crazy zealot, this man has a bright future."

"Yeah yeah, puns an' all doc, we know." Boomerang steps up now, flanked by Firefly and Atomic Skull. "Listen kid, we got ourselves a little proposition for ya, if you're willin' to pay an old man an ear?"

There's nothing but business now, no need for self-gloating. "What do you have in mind?"

"The four of us have a bet heating up." Firefly's remark seems emphasized by his ever-present flamethrower.

"And they say I use puns…"

Ignoring the master of illumination, Boomerang finally lays out the deal. "How'd you like to be involved in a three-way gamble? Firefly, Atomic Skull, and myself all put wagers down that says our choice can beat the other to the task. Whoever wins gets half the profit, the other goes to our choice in the draw."

Removing the double-bladed sword from the sheath, Black Ghost merely stretches it across his shoulders, lazily enjoying the proposition and what it stands for. "Very well. Who do I represent, who is the target, and how much is on the line?"

Pushing the pyromaniac and the man from down under aside, Atomic Skull warns the sword-weilding hitman. "Listen kid, don't be too cocky. Just because this is a bet between men doesn't mean it'll be easy."

"Oh come off it you big hothead, we're tryin' to have some fun with the young lad."

Dr. Light interjects, moving his arm around the man's shoulder to guide them away. "Atomic Skull wagers the Baptist can do it; he says the man's tougher than he looks. Firefly's putting money down on Daiyu, the Black Jade of the Bulletface Gang. You can guess who Boomerang's picked, right?"

"Yes sir. Now, as for the target and the price?"

Smiling proudly, though nowhere near happily, the proud leader's point is as clear as a whistle. "There's three million dollars on this bet, win and you get half… that is if you can kill the Watchman."

"It's no good; I can't reach his mind from here." Sitting back in her chair, breathing slightly faster from the rush of adrenalin, it seems her attempt has stalled or failed altogether. "There's something blocking me."

"I thought you connected directly to the person's soul when you entered their mind?"

Shaking her head, her breathing is still tense but easing now. "There's still limits to how much you can do; it's their soul. When I tried to make contact, something kept me from reaching his consciousness."

"Whatever was in that needle must be deliberately keeping him unconscious instead of just being a side-effect." Offering a reassuring look of his own, Cyborg has doubts of his own but right now his friend needs assurance. "The blood results will be done soon, we'll know for sure then. In the meantime, it's getting late."

"We'll know what we're up against once the results in." Letting out a yawn of his own, it seems Cyborg's comment on the time finally must've reached the team leader. "I'm turning in for now, let me know if anything happens during the night."

"If it's alright, I'd like to try it one more time. I'm used to being up late anyway."

Exchanging glances between the two men, it doesn't seem to be any trouble letting her stay. It's the team leader that makes the call for the pair. "Stay as long as you need to. No one moved into your room while you're gone although all that's there is abed. When you get tired, feel free."

Her own tired smile appears more out of gratitude to an old friend than that of someone she used to work under. "Thanks. Good night.'

"Are you INSANE?! How can you possibly agree to WORK with those goddamn masks?!"

Working out of his loft in Downtown, Arthur Void scowls at the idea of some gun runner bossing him about. Then again, business is business and if people want to keep making money, they'll need to put their attitudes away. "I worked with masochistic drug barons, I'm working with a psychopathic gun runner, I also happen to sponsor a nationalist Chinese Triad who won't reveal his true name, working with Dr. Light on this matter is hardly impossible to fathom."

"Consider what you're agreeing to, Void! If you agree to that freak's offer, you'll be putting Daiyu is harms way. Do you really want Mao's Triad to turn on you if she happens to lose her head?"

Still looking sour as he types away on his iPhone, the game of Sudoku occupies his attention even as his subordinate decides to go off on a rant. "She's a big girl with sharp knives, she can handle herself. Besides, there's half a million dollars free from the Illuminati. That might be small change for someone like me but consider it free future imports."

"Void, I'm telling you, they will betray her the moment she moves in on Watchman. I'm not giving up my best killer over some twisted sense of competition."

Looking away from the game for the moment, Void looks to the phone on his desk. The gun runner will be pissed for this but the CEO doesn't stop from calling towards the speakerphone. "Your best killer or a woman you've come to love?"

"What did you say you son of a…"

"You heard me, Bryson, I said a woman you've come to love. Don't make threats, scarface, or Mao just might find out why you've been keeping Daiyu by your side these past few years."

Another attempt at entering his mind, another failed attempt in the books. This is becoming annoying to the goth, her attempts at cracking his mind seem to be blunted by something and she isn't given the dignity of knowing what's stopping her. Checking the coast is clear, she phases out of the room, moving to the roof for somewhere microphones and cameras cannot follow.

Tapping the earpiece, she calls for assistance to the problem. "Raven to Watchtower."

It's not the baritone of Mr. Terrific that answers, in fact it's much deeper. "Watchtower here, go ahead Raven."

"You're not Mr. Terrific."

"Mr. Terrific is off duty until the morning. What is your status?"

"The Watchman was injected with some unknown substance which has left him unconscious. He's in a comatose state but appears to be stable."

"Can you send us the data on his condition?"

Wrapping the cloak about her body; the March air isn't too warm no matter how close spring approaches. "We'll have a complete read by morning. For the record, the Titans don't know I'm working with the League so I'll need to copy the data covertly."

"Understood, transmit when you can and we'll analyze the data. Watchtower out."

Sighing in the cool air, it only takes a matter of concentration to return her back to the medic bay. Still no motion, only the idle sound of heart monitors and other instruments.

"Haven't seen this picture before, have I Gar?" The dry joke directed to Gar goes unheard by the vigilante. "Although last time your throat was split in two… you were almost dead…"

Returning to her seat next to the bed, she takes in a few breathes to calm herself some more. No matter how many times they've been through this, seeing a close friend in the medic bay from fight-related injuries never gets easier. With no one around though, it gets easier to say the things you want to say.

"You've been on your own for four years now, it doesn't seem like a long time but it has. You left so suddenly, we didn't even have time to react to it all… Starfire cried at first, she didn't know why you were leaving to fight criminals when we could've done it together…"

No reply, just beeping, just breathing…

"Since you've left, three Titans died. Starfire, Argent… Jinx… Nightwing's still getting over Star; he tries to hide it but you can tell it still weighs on his mind… I miss her too."

As much as she'd like to pull up the hood, there's no point. It's not like he's going to get up and crack a joke about her getting emotional at a time like this. "I even miss Jinx, although probably not as much as you miss her. If you heard the things she said about you, that ego of your's would blow up like a blimp… She was starting to really like you, like that girl Kristine you wrote about… And then you lost her too…"

Wiping something out of her eye, the will inside keeps her from letting loose but that might not hold for much longer. "And now you're really back, you're not going away again. No more asylum, no more prisons… You're really here, just like how it used to be. You brought down the man who drugged you, that much you've accomplished and you haven't even been back four months. You've already started fighting the Illuminati; we couldn't even bring Dr. Light to justice for killing Star and Argent… You'll beat him too, won't you? You'll beat him and the gun runners, the CEOs… you'll bring Ripper in too…"

Finally, that will to resist gives way to a dam that bursts with fear, not of the present, but of the unknown. "Gar, what have they done to you? Why did they do all of this? They took you from us, they killed those who loved you, they threw you in the asylum… and now they'll take your life… and yet you just won't give up… you won't stop… even when you died, you still came back, you wouldn't stop then, what could stop you now?"

"Look, I'm fine; it's just a boo-boo, that's all."

Checking out his head, it's obvious that cut isn't a "boo-boo" as he'd put it. "I thought you said you were feeling better?"

"I was, I just didn't know I was bleeding, that's all."

Scowling, the robed woman checks the gash on the back of Gar's head, looking for the best place to apply her "abilities." "You must be one thick-headed nut to not notice you're bleeding."

Wincing as she puts her hand to his head, he mutters aloud. "And you must be one crazy lady, shooting black magic all over the place."

"Complain again and this black magic won't seal up the cut."

Begrudgingly, the vagrant abandons his argument, content to feel the pulses of energy spreading across his scalp. The hair on the back of his neck bristles more out of odd sensations rather than tension, a fact his back attributes in the positive to peaceful firings of endorphins. "Wow, that feels funny."

"It wouldn't feel good if it wasn't meant for healing."

"True." Once the work is done, she moves from behind him, checking out his expression at her work. "How do you feel? I've never tried that on an open wound before."

"Feel great, saves me a trip to the doctor's. You're awesome, you know that? You can heal things, use magic, and really rock the cape-look…"

Again flush of red courses through her face, forcing her to turn around slightly to hide the blush. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"No, no, not at all. Appreciate the healing work; normally people just walk over me in the park instead of helping me."

"Which reminds me…" Rachel's wanted to ask this but said wound disrupted that attempt. "… why were you sleeping in the bushes?"

Looking back into the park, Gar wonders that himself. "Not sure, I don't normally sleep in public like that. Matter of fact, I don't know how I got here in the first place…"

Grin returning to her face, an idea sprouts up inside her head. "Well, since you just woke up, are you hungry? It's too late for breakfast but how about lunch? I still owe you for waking you up like… well, you know."

There's an attempt by Gar to be polite but there's a curious sound in his stomach protesting his decision. Offering a grin of embarrassment himself, he accepts her deal. "Guess I was hungry after all."

A/N2: I'm sure you're wondering just what the hell's going on... The facts will be revealed coming soon.
Still, a three-way plot coming up: A bet between the Illuminati leaders which assassin's better, Gar in a coma, and Gar... well, not sure where (or what) he's at this moment.

Trivia:
- Lot of Redux 1, 2, 2 1/2 references, hence why Raven's "speech" is somewhat OOC for her.

Rhetorical:
Raven's speech there wasn't planned, it just happened. Gar to me is the epitome of what drives a hero (justice, courage, selflessness) who doesn't embrace it's code (no-killing, honesty, integrity). I think, since she's come to know him as The Watchman instead of just Beast Boy, she's finally gotten started to open up to him as a man rather than a boy. Problem is the plot keeps getting in the way. It's obvious she loves him but Gar has a mission... and so does she.