A/N: Okay, so again it's been a while since I updated. For which I apolgize. Going over a month without updating is too long, even with chapters of +10.000 words. And to top it off this chapter didn't even get to the point in the story I thought it would. I could've slapped the scene on the end of this, but by the time I got there I already had more than 12.000 words and I figured: actualy it would make for a better opening scene. Especially concidering the other scenes that would follow. (It was also the scene that would've gotten this chapter it's name, but due to the change I went with a different song and band for this one. This one seemed fitting enough for what happens here.) It could list some excuses, but they wouldn't do. So thank you if you stick by the story and cope with my slow update-speed. It's more than I have a right to ask for.
Before we get started, as per usual, I'd like to thank all those who reviewed the last chapter. Getting a fresh review always makes my day. And just know, if you have some criticism, sock it to me. I want my writing to be as good as possible and you need to hear about things you can improve in order to get there.
So thank you, JasonVUK, for your splendid review. Yes, the Red God thing is neigh. I'm glad you're liking the story so far. Hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
Jimmy1201, thank you so much for that great review. I'm glad you liked the fight between Robin and Deadshot. I did my best with that, as Deadshot is one of my favorite batman villains. Regarding the War-thing. I admit it's all a bit confusing. Perhaps it's good to point out that I'm deliberately writing it as a tad confusing for now. But perhaps I'm going a bit too much overboard. Here's to hoping this chapter will clear up some things, at least. Again, thank you so much. I hope you enjoy.
UnlikelyPFfan, your favorite fanfiction has been noted and put on my on 'to-read' list. (Perhaps as a break after ending arc 2.) Thank you so much for your comment. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Sorry for it being so late.
CleoArrow, thank you, as usual, for a marvelous reply. Deadshot's backstory, how I understand it, is (mostly) how I depicted it in the last chapter. Also, I lol-ed at your comment about Ra's. :p Again thanks for the splendid reply, hope you enjoy the chapter!
PsychoNinjaWolf, your amazing comment was both flattering and motivating. Don't worry, you've said more than enough wonderful things. You have my sincerest thanks. I hope you love this chapter too!
Justsomeotherguy, thank you for not just some other reply, but for a kick-ass one. I'm glad you appreciate Deadshot's writing. He's one of my favorite batman-villains, tbh. (I'm so going to check out 'suicide squad' and hope Will Smith'll do him justice.) I'm also glad you like my Starfire. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. It means a lot to me.
And Based Bobcat, Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I don't know for sure if RWBY is almost out of hiatus, but I heard it would be coming back soon. So here's to hoping. I'm glad I could surprise you with the Lazarus pit. And yeah, I like Deadshot's character a lot, I just had to add his origins. Also, glad you like my Starfire, like justsomeotherguy. Cool factoïd this time. Sane Joker moments are something I'm going to have to read up on in the future. Again, thanks so much for reviewing!
Also, a big thank you to everyone who answered my question. I'm still doubting whether or not I'll do it, though. Because it would take a while and lately I really want this story to be finished more than anything else. So I'll see where it goes after Arc 2 is finished. But thanks everybody!
I also wish to take a moment to thank the 6 new followers/favoriters. Thanks a million guys! I really appreciate it.
Disclaimer: None of the rights.
Chapter 33: (Don't Fear) The Reaper
Alternate title: Blue Öyster Cult
He was deep beneath the humongous den belonging to the strange creatures he kept seeing everywhere. Far below the erected smooth, tall stones. He did not have words to describe the creatures' habitat. Yet every time he ran through the bright lights and the strange sounds, he felt deep in his bones how it differed from what was normal. There were hardly any trees there. There were no hills. No caves. No grass. Only rock. All different kinds of rock and metal. These creatures, clearly abound in this world, were strange. He did not like them. Their off den made him uneasy. As did the way they panicked and cowered so easily. That would be fine, prey was prey. And prey cowered. It ran. But then again others of them, they attacked. He remembered, times past, he'd fought some of them down in the burrows made of the strangely smooth rock. An orange one shooting the same colored fire, a white and blue one with what he could only describe as blue fire and a brightly colored one with a branch made of metal. He'd fought them again inside one of the den's chambers. It had been a vast one, big and empty. The fight itself had been brutal and he had been very hungry and very enraged at the time. Why he'd felt that way, he could not remember. But what he did remember was more of those strange creatures showing up and pointing things at him. He remembered the thunder roaring and the pain that followed. And he remembered one of the creatures, one he'd been conflicted to eat for reasons he did not understand, clambering atop of him as his chest's pain increased and the world went dark. But when he came back, he felt all better and the creature still sat atop of him. And from one moment to the next he'd decided to not eat it anymore. Stranger creatures, surely.
And now, in this, a natural cave, there again he met more of them. They came at him all covered in black; all with a single long and sharp nail. He swatted them aside, of course. With the help of three of the creatures he could have sworn were dangerous to him, until a him inside his head that was not him told him to trust them. He did not understand these creatures, any of them, one bit. Not the ones that reeked of fear as they scattered topside when he barged through. Not the orange, the blue and white and the multicolored one. Not the black ones with the long nails and not these three helping him. Were they prey? Were they hunters? Were they against him? Were they trying to be a part of his pack? He did not understand one bit. And what he did not understand, he mistrusted and disliked.
And yet, what he understood least of all was the one dangling from his teeth. The same one that had clambered atop of him way back then. The blue thing that was not her flesh was clenched between it's teeth. Only moments before had she been lying on the ground; unmoving. He'd roared and swiped to keep the black creatures at bay and drive them back, until they were all down on the floor and stopped moving themselves or fled the cave. But now he'd pulled her back up and found himself wondering why it was he tried so hard to protect her.
She was not like him. She was one of the creatures he disliked. And yet, he felt loyal. It was as if she were the leader of his pack. It had been by her command that he had kept calm later on with the orange one, the blue-and-white one and the multicolored one. It had been her, and only her, he'd wanted to follow and obey. And now, though he did not understand the creature he was taking into his arms, he knew he wanted nothing more than for her to be safe. He regarded her limp body lying in his green, front paws. He stood on his hind legs, not far from the long green body of water the voice inside him that was not him had guided him to. The creature with the greyish skin looked so helpless… so weak… he feared it was dead already. In any case he could not see nor hear it breathe. And yet, the him that was not him uttered it's promising whispers. She could be fine again. She could live. And all he had to do was to follow it's guidance, to accept it's wisdom and to place it's trust in him.
He let out a soft growl, squeezing the non-responsive female slightly tighter in his arms. What choice did he have? A sound caught his attention however. His ears and eyes sprang into action immediately. The alfa of the creatures which the him that was not him told him were on his side drew near. No matter what, he did not like these three. His growl let as much as that be known. Perhaps they were not against him. Perhaps they too wanted the female with the greyish skin to live. But trust them, he did not. He would do as the voice inside him commanded, but he would never like them.
The horseman of war removed his hood as he neared the gigantic beast. The spread out torches across the cavernous room lit it's massive built eerily as the shadows of flickering flames danced over all. The monster cradled the girl in it's arms. Weather she was dead or not, he could not tell. But he figured she was. It was written after all, the inner zealot told him so. That is why the Red God of War had brought them here. All five of them together, here at the waters of life and death history would be written. The last chapter of it as a matter of fact. The final binds would be sealed and Death, the final horseman, would be made flesh. It was the beginning of the end, and 'oh glory' for he was to witness it all.
As he neared the growling and snarling green hulk of a beast, he contemplated his time at the Ahnenerbe institute. Ahnenerbe... the Nazi occult division of world war II had been an… interesting time for him. Whilst he didn't truly care about the mere politics and social agenda's that drove the war, he had admired the sheer war itself. Back then he'd applauded the revolutionary use of mechanics in war. Machine guns. Rockets. Gasses. And the German's tidy efficiency in it's colonization, imperialism and even it's extermination of countless people had at the time seemed like such an impressive and neat advance in the art of warfare.
Only decades later had he realized the foolishness of such convictions. It had been nothing more than a bureaucratic parody of war. A great brutality doing it's best to pose as a necessary and standard procedure. It masked the true beauty of it's utter chaos and inhumanity. To him it was no more attractive then a working girl wearing excessive make-up as if it were some desperate attempt to hide her intentions that failed miserably. Let alone the fact that it laid the groundwork for further construction of the abominations he saw today; drones fighting drones, machines fighting machines… Wars turned into video-game, devoid of their very being.
But still: joining Ahnenerbe had been a great way to find new ways of extending his life. After Himmler had turned the organization from it's original intent to find proof of biological Aryan superiority into a research facility for the occult he'd had all the money and manpower to research anything he needed. The Lazarus pit, the body of green liquid next to them, was one of his most important studies back then. And the pit on which the Ahnenerbe base was built had rejuvenated him well, until the allied forces forced him to disappear into the night. A shame too, as it happened right after a major breakthrough. Months before he'd already figured out how to manipulate the chemicals into a horrible weapon; whilst the substance could heal almost anything, proper adjustments to the formula allowed it to cause pretty much any disease or illness known to man. And mere hours before the allied drove him and his fellow researchers out into the night, he'd figured out how to manipulate the substance; allowing it to be carried around and still retain it's power, rather than having to bathe in the great pits themselves. Their hasty retreat had left him with hardly any of the serum, and the decades that followed had drained the short supply leaving him to find new ways to rejuvenate himself. After all, Lazarus pits were rare at best. And he'd always considered going back into the hidden Ahnenerbe base to be suicide, after it was locked up and it's defenses activated. So the one place he could get more was the one place he couldn't get to. And yet, with the apocalypse looming, War knew he had no choice but to return to that tomb, for his second most prized object of study. Youth be damned but this artifact was irreplaceable in the coming Armageddon. And yet claiming it was a worry for later. After all, his faith in the Red God of War had been rewarded with the most infatuating 'now' there had ever been, and the rest would be provided should his resolve endure, he was certain of it.
He was at arms length of the green hulking monster and the crippled or dead half-demon now. And so he slowly stretched out his arms and almost tenderly claimed the mask of Komaï still lodged on the beast's face.
"Don't worry." He spoke in an encouraging tone of voice. The monster blinking as the filter was removed from his mind and the in-clarity of reality returned to it. "It's just that we'll be needing this. But don't fret, she still has the necklace, when the time comes you'll be able to find us." Cupping the mask in one hand, he placed his other on the monster's chest. "Don't worry." He continued. "The Red God is still with you. He'll guide your steps now, even without the mask. And follow him in this and him and you will be bound forevermore, as will she and you." He gestured towards the broken figure in it's arms. "You'll be inseparable. Two parts of one whole that will bring forth the finality of our world; together until the end of time, which we'll bring forth together."
The confused monster looked down. It's breath heavy and deep. It's gaze transfixed.
"You know what to do." He encouraged, stretching his arm out towards the long rectangular Lazarus pit.
He took a few careful paces backward, never taking his eyes of the two. Slowly the monster turned it's back to him and tread down in the pit. The green liquid reached it's waist. Raven hovered above the surface by inches. Her sleek hair already dipped.
The mask inside his hand whispered to him in words he couldn't make out, but he sensed their meaning. Their guidance was welcome, as always. "Pestilence." War whispered. The man in the gasmask showed no signs of hearing him, but War knew well enough he had. "Fill me a flask of the water." He demanded. He did not know exactly why; youth had become a meaningless concept to him. Long it had driven him, but now it seemed trivial. However, he knew better than to discard the Red God's whispered wisdom.
No sooner had he spoken the words or Pestilence moved towards the edge of the pit to obey the command. In the meanwhile, however, it seemed the monstrous beast simply stood there, not dropping the girl into the lake of revival.
"What are you waiting for, you mongrel?!" He asked, not entirely sure where the anger came from. But this close to such an important moment, his patience grew weary. "She's dead already! We all want her back! Deliver her to us. It's the only way you can keep her!"
The beast's back still facing him, it slowly turned it's head. The General could see one piercing eye and felt it's linger cut through his soul. The gaze, fearless as he was; overcome with zeal, was enough to make him shrug back. The old man could sense the creature's melancholy however, as it turned it's mighty head back; to stare down at the girl. And then, in one swift move, it pushed her limp body into the water.
Wild horses couldn't drag War away from the scene.
When the gigantic zeppelin emerged from the dark stormy clouds, Robin was actually glad to see it. He feared he might have frostbite already, his body not being as well protected against extreme temperatures like the girl carrying him through the air. To be inside, out of the extreme cold and the thin air would be a blessing.
And as he barely managed to squint as they flew towards the monstrosity bearing the Joker's own face, Robin couldn't help but notice the clouds as they swerved around the airship. Their unique patterns confirmed the gnawing suspicion he'd had growing in the back of his head ever since he saw the oversized balloon of death. The reason why Mr. Freeze hadn't been able to locate the source of the icy storm was that the source hadn't actually been inside Jump City. The zeppelin had always been at the center of the anomalous ice-storm: cloaked by it's thick clouds. After they destroyed the dispersing mechanism for the Joker's gas the machine creating the icy weather had to be next, to end the suffering in the city below.
But still, it dawned on him that if the ice-storm had been the Joker's doing all along, it had to have been in motion for longer than he'd expected. The anomaly had picked up even before they'd had the trouble with the brotherhood of evil. And yet, the Joker had just incorporated professor Chang into his plan and had rolled with it. Quite typical, Robin reflected, of Joker's ability to reign in chaos. And that truly was a terrifying strength.
Speedy had asked him once, back in Gotham, if he could think of anything more scary than the Joker with superpowers. The incident seemed like a lifetime ago. A threat involving an alien meteor had almost blessed The Joker, quite accidentally, with the ability to shoot a fire-like substance from his hands. Luckily the crisis had been avoided due to the quick work of both Green Arrow and the Batman while Speedy and himself had been left to do some creative crowd-control. Robin remembered his own reply quite well. "Yeah." He'd said. "The Joker without superpowers." And he remained convinced of that to this day. After all, if there was anything the Bat had taught him to survive in world of superpowers, it was to be creative. And in a very perverse and twisted way, the Joker was like that too. He never relied on powers like flame-hands or ice-beams or laser-eyes or super-speed. Instead the green haired, pale-faced psychopath kept evolving, ever-changing. You never knew what tricks the dark prankster had up his sleeve. And exactly that not knowing, that chaos, was what made the Joker so fearsome.
Nearing the blimp's hind pulled him from daydream. As instructed Starfire had flown to the starboard side of the large cabin's stern. Zeppelin's hadn't been Dick's major field of study, not by a long shot. But from what he could remember reading about them, it would be around there, close to the engines, that they would probably find the gas-dispersing apparatus now threatening the entire city below. This close the massive size of the zeppelin was even more impressive. To think the purple-suited maniac had hidden it right underneath his nose all this time. Even the passenger compartments and connected engine-cars and bridge were extreme in size, let alone the balloon itself.
The only sounds he heard were two kinds of roaring, ever-intertwining. Both the high-up stormy winds and the blimp's engines fought valiantly to deafen him. So much so that he didn't even hear Starfire shoot the laser-beams from her eyes. But he did see the glass shatter. For a second it seemed the shards would fall inside. But the change in air pressure within the cabin changed that quickly. It was only by the orange girl's quick reactions that they both avoided severe cuts. They were inside before long. And once in, the air was still too thin for his liking. So they pressed on quickly until they passed through a thick door and closed it behind them.
Feeling he could finally breathe again, Robin would later be ashamed to admit that only then he started taking in his surroundings. The insides of the barge were classy to say the least. The two of them stood in a long hallway sporting oak columns, crystal chandeliers, a red carpet and opposite to the windows made of thick glass; humongous portraits in majestic gilded frames. Each and every one of them, as far as Robin could see, depicted the Zeppelin's mad captain himself. The Joker laughed at them in different outfits and different poses. He could see the maniac dressed as a count of old, as an old sea-captain including a parrot on his shoulder and many more. The closest by, however, was him sporting a white captain's uniform. He had three colorful medals pinned to his chest and despite the evil and disturbing grin on his face, the clown-prince of crime managed to look vaguely respectable and honorable in the picture.
"Captain Joker here." The raspy, yet quirky disembodied voice ringing through the air snapped Robin out of it. He located the origin of the sound quickly. The intercom it was emitted from seemed old and cracked; it's khaki-ish bullhorn hanging high up in the corner behind him. It was connected by tubes running into the wall up top and besides the wall to the bottom; reaching an ancient looking intercom Robin figured one could be used to signal the bridge. "Just making sure everyone is doing their best to get the place in tip-top shape for when our special guest arrives. Remember to show him the full extent of our hospitality when you see him! We've been working very hard to make Joker Airlines the top of the top. You should truly be proud of how high up we are in the world today." His voice turned from praise to malevolence in a mere second as he continued. "So don't fail me today, because it's a long, long way down if you do."
When the uncomfortable laughter started, Robin beckoned Starfire to follow him. She too seemed impressed by the lofty hallway. He, however, tried to block it out; there was work at hand.
Three-finger-John practically stampeded out of the dark alleyway. Conversation had gone on long enough. If they kept debating and planning for much longer, they'd never get things done. Now that hell was clearly let loose on the city, they had the best chance they would get in a long time. And he wasn't about to let it go to waste just because Julius kept advising patience. He'd left them behind like squabbling children huddled around the campfire. Julius had tried to stop him, even going as far as to chase him. But John had always been faster. After all, he'd had more practice. Where Julius could stand and talk his way out of almost any situation, John had been running from problems and the law ever since his parents had abandoned him at the age of ten.
It would've been a lie to say he emerged into the light. The entire frozen city's grid was now starting to falter. And the streetlights had gone. Though the white snow still left him with a glow underneath the reflection of the moon and stars. He left the dark alleyway with a metal garbage-can in his hands. He raised it overhead as he crossed the street, heading straight for his goal. The canister left his hands and flew straight for the, up until recently lit, pharmacy. As planned it crashed straight through the window, shattering it into a million tiny fragments. He only hoped the ruckus it caused, along with the wild scream he let out by now, would be enough to frighten the on-duty pharmacist off. He needed those drugs. And he needed them now.
"Raaagh!" John shouted as he jumped inside through the shattered window, pulling a lead pipe from his trousers with his good hand. "Raaagh!" He repeated once inside, giving the petrified man behind the cash-register the most evil look he could.
It worked. Swearing in disbelief the man hurriedly took off; dashing inside a private part of the building and closing the door behind him. After that it didn't take John long to find the drugs he needed. But he did his best to keep making loud and worrying noises until he was out of earshot. He took the small bottle of pills with his maimed hand and darted out of the store as quickly as he'd entered.
He'd done it! He'd gotten the drugs. His heart flew as he darted towards the alleyway. He felt like the king of the world, high on the rush.
At least, he did. Until he realized it wasn't his heart that flew, but he himself entirely. Launched through the air he quickly lost his sense of balance. But not direction. For after a few seconds it became painfully clear what direction he was headed. And indeed he smacked down on the ground, barely being able to shield himself and the bottle with his arm. Behind him he could see a small plateau of earth sticking out above the snow. What was the meaning of this? Had that caused his flight? And what had caused that? Had he just been drinking too much again? And could he get another drink? It would do wonders for his smarting body.
Apart from the last question he had, the answers came to him soon under the guise of a young, blond lady in a blue dress. She was still far off, but advanced in a determined stride.
"You think you own this city?!" She shouted madly. "You think just because there's not cops around that you can just terrorize this place?!"
"What the..." He uttered, clambering up.
"You think you can just steal?! Because there is no law?! Because no-one's around?!"
She was close enough now to see the mad glint and confused rage in her eyes. John found himself incapable of saying anything in the light of this child's fury. The fact that she raised two blocks of earth next to her with the flick of a hand didn't help much either. For the first time in his life on the street, three-finger-john's legs failed to get him the hell out of dodge.
"Well I am here now! And for as far as you're concerned:…" She moved her arms, still advancing at her steady pace, and the boulders came straight at him.
He turned and finally made a break for it. The boulders crashed right before he could get away, however. They came down right next to him. And with such a force that their trembles made him lose his footing yet again.
"I AM THE LAW!" The blonde shouted.
John scrambled like he'd never scrambled before; running on pure adrenaline and fear. He turned his back to her, dropping the lead pipe immediately. He knew by instinct this was a force it would do nothing against. However, he clutched the drugs tight as he sank his good hand deep into the snow and pushed himself up by hand and feet. Before he could rise, however, another pillar of earth arose. It hit him square in the chest and catapulted him backwards. With a painful thud he landed on his back. He closed his eyes in pain. When they reopened he saw the blonde girl, standing over him and staring down.
"I have to stop you." She told him. "I have to stop scum like you from doing just what they want."
She made a fist and before he could say uncle a boulder twice the size of his head started hovering above his head.
"Whoa!" He uttered frantically. Still clasping the bottle with his three-fingered hand, he opened the other to show he wasn't a threat. "Can't we talk about this?" He asked, borrowing a page from Julius' book.
"No more talking." She said. "Talking just makes things blurry. I need things to stay clear. To stay whole."
Even though he couldn't see her face, he could hear the distress, underlying sadness and reluctance in her voice. But that didn't do him much good.
"I need my face to stay whole kid!"
"What? No. No, no." Her voice rang back.
The stone moved out of the way, now hovering next to his face, though still in close proximity. But at least he could exhale now. As soon as he'd done so, he allowed himself to focus on the girl's face. Her eyes were red, as if she'd been crying recently.
"I'm Terra." She managed. "I am… I want to be… a Titan. I will not be confused anymore! I am going to take you in."
Her voice was strained beyond description. I seemed to John that she was trying to convince herself more than him. But at least it didn't seem like she was going to kill him for now. Wounding him probably lay in her realm of acceptable options. But he was still going to open his big mouth. Somethings just had to be done.
"Oh I remember you now, you little punk." He said. "You're that psycho-girl that betrayed her friends and tried to take over the city! Let me tell ya, I dislike the Teen Titans; bunch of stuck up pretend-heroes. But I utterly despise traitors. You turned on your friends? The ones who took you in! And now you're going to get high and mighty and call me out for being trash?! That's rich!"
Only too late did he regret his words. Perhaps it had been a prior misjudgment. But he saw something inside the girl snap. She turned and squatted down, hovering above his stomach. The fury in her eyes was impressive. But it was the stone layer forming around her right fist that caught his attention as her left kept him on the ground.
"I am not that person!" She screamed as her fist got into position. "Not anymore!"
"Then prove it." A familiar voice rang from the dark alleyway nearby. It was enough to stop the fist from launching, as it hovered dangerously in the air. "For you do not look like a good guy from where I stand."
Even in his dire situation, three-finger-john found himself turning his gaze towards it. He could honestly say he'd never been so happy to see Julius as he emerged from the shadows. It was clear he'd been running.
"Beating 'im to an inch of 'is life when 'e is down does not make me think of you as a Teen Titan." The old man continued.
"I am the good guy here!" The blonde on top of him uttered, somewhat erratically, as if in defense. "He's the bad guy!"
"I suppose that depends on your point of view, non?" Julius said, nearing with baby-steps.
The girl on top of him shook her head. "No." She said. "It's simple. It has to be."
"Why?"
"Right and wrong. Good and bad. Black and white. It has to be simple."
"Why?" Julius repeated.
"Because I need it to be!" She shouted. "Because there has to be some way out of all this confusion inside my head! He has to be a bad guy, I have to be one of the good ones. Or I might never figure out who I am!"
John realized that for once Julius too didn't know what to reply. Which wasn't a comforting thought, what with a psycho ready to crush his head and all. And what was worse was that he recognized his friend's look. It was one of empathy and pity. Sure, don't mind old John having his head squished like a watermelon. Just worry about the executioner instead!
Well. If Julius wasn't going to say anything, he'd do it himself. "You look like a Titan to me alright." He interjected. "Stuck up like the rest of them and just as removed from the world from living in you giant tower."
"What did you say?" She asked, returning her focus to him.
"You heard me. You have to be pretty removed from reality to think you're always a good guy. What you really do is pick your mates and stick by them through thick and thin. And you couldn't even do that, could you now?"
"You..." She threatened.
"'e is not completely wrong." Julius intervened. "For instance… Sometimes I want to strangle 'im myself. 'e can be a very… infuriating man."
"Yeah, thanks Julius."
"But 'e is not a bad man. 'e as a good 'eart and I stick by 'im because 'e sticks by us."
"He's a thief!" She objected. "It's easy to see what's wrong and right."
"Is it?" Julius challenged. "What is it that you think 'e stole?"
"Drugs!" She shouted back. "It's simple, black and white! He stole drugs! He's the bad guy! He's going to jail!"
"'e took 'ydrocortisone. It is not to get 'igh."
"What?" The girl gasped. John noticed her eyes fall on the bottle in his hand.
"It is not even for 'im."
He could sense the doubt creep over her.
"That's none of her business, Julius!" A strange sense of pride swept over him.
"It is for Sara. One of us outcasts."
"Julius! I swear to God, shut up!"
She eyed the Frenchman with suspicion now.
"She is a doll. Ten years old. Very bright. And she 'as allergic reactions."
John could see the cogs turning inside the blonde's head, slowly, as if she awoke from a daze.
"She stays with you guys?" She asked.
"And others aussi. I mean 'too'. Others too. As my friend John 'as said…" The man gestured towards him. "We pick our mates and we stand by them. We look after our own."
"Us knows us." John grunted in a deliberately vicious tone.
Like hell this brat would understand the hardships they went through. To hell with her.
"Why isn't she at home with her parents?" The girl asked, a tad more fiercely now. "Did you kidnap her or something? And why break into a pharmacy? Can't you just take her to a hospital?"
"Her parents?!" John felt the rage come over him instantaneously. "She ain't going back there! You can't make her!"
"I..." She tried, clearly shocked.
It didn't matter to him. "You don't know what she went through! And you ain't making her go through it again! To hell with them! And to hell with hospitals! They'll just find out who she is and send her back!"
"The world is not so black and white." Julius tried in a soothing voice.
He knew that tone. And he knew to shut up when is friend spoke in it. It meant something important was coming.
"I think you are trying to divide the world in pure good and pure evil to cut the evil out of yourself, non?"
She was shaking now. He could see it. The cold had him shivering himself, lying in the snow and all. But this was different.
"I am not convinced such concepts exist."
"Pure evil exists." The blond offered weakly. "I've fought it. I've felt it… I've felt them when they… And I've been it. … I..." She tried to speak again, but bit down, her features contorting in the stress.
They gave her the time to continue. Julius probably because he had people-skills. For as far as John was concerned, this awkwardness was a bit too hypnotic to interrupt.
"I… I need to cut it out. I was pure evil. I don't want to be it anymore."
"You never were." Julius offered. "Pure evil? Non, ma chère. We've all done bad things. I 'ave too. So 'as John, mon dieu: so 'as John."
"Again, thanks Julius. Much appreciated!"
"But maintenant you try to do the right thing, oui?" Julius continued, pretending not to hear. After another short silence, he went on. "If you want to know what it is I think? I think you 'ave been confused a bit. But what will 'elp is not to make a division in the world where none exists. It is better to accept you are not perfect. You are not black. You are not white. You are grey."
"What I've seen… experienced… it has to have been done by those pure evil."
"Because it is easier to accept that way?"
"Yes." The blonde spoke in a soft breath.
"But then, what you 'ave done was done by someone pure evil too." Julius countered. "And it is that which you cannot accept because 'ere you are trying to do the right thing."
"No I… It's supposed to be simple."
"Non. It just is what it is. And I need you to accept that you are not black or white in this. I need you to see it now. Because if you do not, Sara will not get the medicine she needs."
"So I have the choice between locking up a thief and letting a girl die or allowing a theft and saving a life?" She uttered a miserable chuckle.
"I can understand this is confusing. Why not come with us; you can see for yourself?"
Julius' words called John into action immediately. This display of sympathy had gone far too long. Just because Julius was feeling poorly about how they'd acted towards the Titans earlier that night didn't excuse this. He could tell what the Frenchman was thinking, and he couldn't allow it.
"No Julius!" He shouted. "No way. We look after our own, we don't endanger them! No way in hell we're taking this psycho back with us!"
"John!" Julius voice was uncharacteristically stern. "Bring Sara the medicine now!"
The Frenchman's display of dominance was enough to stun him. And in the shock his eyes turned to the young girl standing over him. The look in her eyes was a shock in and by itself. All fire had gone out of them. All that remained were tears and a blank stare. She seemed more lost than ever.
"Uh." He said, transfixed on her face. "Yeah sure."
He scooted away slowly and scrambled up. He took a few seconds to shrug off the excess snow on his jacket and pants. It did nothing to dry them whatsoever and the cold winds still bit like hell. With one last look to his compatriot and the strange blonde, both locked in a wordless and empathic stare, he took off and finally dashed into the dark alleyway.
He still didn't like the idea of that girl coming back with Julius. But that would be a bridge he'd cross then. Right now, the Frenchman was right; he had a little girl counting on him. His legs carried him as fast as they could.
Harley sat in the bridge polishing the new, wooden baseball-bat in her hands. She realized she was pouting as she did so. But with reason. After all, this overgrown toothpick made a poor replacement for the hammer she'd lost on the way up. It left her in an uncharacteristically foul mood. As she looked up, leaning back in the chair with her feet resting on the giant round table, she found that even her puddin's especially jolly mood did nothing to lift her own. They'd waltzed back into the bridge after collecting a few more 'toys' for if Brat Wonder were to show up.
Huh… Brat Wonder… She'd always defended her puddin' when others called him insane. He was just a misunderstood genius and, if treated right, a big old softy at heart. But even she, in this very moment, doubted his sanity in the deepest of her being. It wasn't that what they were doing was so out of the ordinary. Trying to destroy a city was a nice pastime for them as any and boy did she know how a creative mind like Joker's needed a challenging hobby. It was just that usually, they tried to destroy Gotham. And so not only the 'where' was off tonight, but also the 'why'. Bat-brain deserved to go down; his smug brute antics had pained her Mr. J more than plenty to warrant his demise. She remembered, back in the days that she was a psychiatrist, that for a while she believed the only way Mr. J. could be healed was to put his demons to rest. Of course nowadays she was convinced her puddin' could be cured with love too. But that never stopped her from supporting him in his road to putting his dark-clad demon behind him. Or six feet under. Whatever worked.
But why the kid? He'd been a nuisance over the years, sure. But had it been enough to warrant this night? All of it? Of course she didn't mind if the spiky-haired kid got killed, he had been a little bugger. But did they really have to go all the way across the country for this? Was the little brat so special now? Were they going to have to worry about another obsession? Wasn't the dark knight enough of this kind of stuff already? And if this was just a ploy to upset Bat-brain, why did her puddin' drop the ball so many times when he could have killed the boy? The random explosives in their tower still upset her greatly…
And now, for once, her puddin's smile actually aggravated her. He knew something. He had something up his sleeve that he wasn't telling her. It was all a big joke and he wasn't letting her in on it; hogging all the fun to himself. She loved him to death, but sometimes he could be a real jerk.
"Boss!" One of the goons operating the computer-screens at the side of the bridge dragged her back to the world. "You should take a look at this!"
"Well what is it?" Her puddin' asked curiously.
She too got up from her seat.
"It's Robin. And the girl! The orange one." The goon continued in a stressed tone of voice.
"Where?!" She shouted.
This was horrible news. She hadn't been naive enough to think Boy Blunder wouldn't find his way onto the last laugh. But the gas-dispensers were not even close to operational. This way Mr. J would never be able to make the entire city die with laughter. And yet, as her eyes shifted to him, the man didn't seem worried at all. Surprised, yes. But if anything he was amused, cheerful even.
"The cargo hangar ma'am." The goon replied, without tearing his eyes off the screen. "They've just taken down the men inside! And now… Robin's doing something at the helicopter you came in with."
Harley remembered the vast, metal box of a room well. Whatever business could they have there? Her puddin', so it seemed, wrestled with the same question.
"What in the devil are they doing there?" He asked joyfully.
"It seems… It seems he's doing something to your portable EMP-gun, boss."
"Huh." Her puddin' responded, pondering the implications. When he continued his voice was optimistic. "No clue what he thinks he can do with that, he can't shut down the dispensers with it… But no matter. We might not know what he's up to, but we can damn well be sure he's on his way towards my gas-machines. Let's fix that shall we? Computer guy!"
"Yes boss?" The goon replied.
"Can we open the floor in the cargo hangar from here? You know, the way we came in? Make 'em drop straight down?"
"Uh..." The goon stumbled over his words. For the first time he turned. She could see the rather young but scarred and worn face wearing a puzzled look. His exceptionally thick brows accentuating his confusion. "Boss, our men are in there… Unconscious."
Mr. J returned a blank stare. "Your point? Better for them to go without realizing it don't you think? What are you, a monster?"
"No… I..."
"Can we do it?" The Joker asked, stressing each word.
"No. No boss, we can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"Can't. You can only open the floor from the safety room inside the hangar."
"Ah blast… Would've made for quite the show! Fine, we'll do it the old fashioned way. Harley?!"
She sprang to attention instinctively. "Yes puddin'?" She asked. "Should we inform the good doctor Crane?"
"While you're at it, send him over." He spoke slyly, slowly making his way over to her. "But why don't you get Bud and Lou and let them out for a walk?"
She giggled. "Sure thing. Brat Wonder won't know what hit him." She said, smacking the wooden bat into the palm of her hand.
She turned on her heel to leave before he could speak again. But it was his voice that made her turn back around.
"Oh and Harley..." Mr. J added, his voice as sweet as honey. "Why don't you take the other one with you as well?"
She eyed him as if he were insane. Or at least, more insane than otherwise. "The other one?" She croaked in a high-pitched voice. "You mean..."
"Yes." The Joker grinned darkly. "Our other guest. The ace in the hole."
"But..." She protested, the uneasiness building up rapidly within her very being. "Why me puddin'? Why send me to get that monster?"
"Because..." He said, closing the distance between hem. "He knows you're the only one he can't eat, without losing his paycheck."
His fingers found her cheek and stroked it gently. She felt the blush creep up on her. "Oh chucks..." She uttered, forgetting everything else in the world for just an instant.
"You can do this for me, can't you, Harley-girl?" He asked. "You can stop Robin from stopping me?"
Looking into his piercing eyes, deep inside those darkened sockets, accentuated by the dirty white make-up on the rest of his face, she found herself unable to resist.
"Yes." She answered. "Yes I can puddin'!"
She practically sprinted out of the room, desperate to prove herself to him. To make him happy and to ensure their future together, by stopping this little brat once and for all.
And the last thing she heard when she was halfway down the hallway outside the bridge was the Joker going: "And for God's sake: someone get me my piano!"
Starfire followed Robin as he strode through the chique and eerie hallways of the Zeppelin. Like him she too wanted to end things tonight. And with the danger hanging over Jump City like the sword of Damocles sooner was preferred to later by far. But, even with all this at stake and the uncertainty of the safety of her friends, some questions burned inside her; aching to be spoken.
"Robin." She called out.
The boy didn't slow his determined pace.
"Robin!" She tried again.
"What?" He asked, not looking back and still not slowing down.
"Robin!" She spoke a third time as she grabbed his arm and forced him to face her.
The look he gave her was one of bewildered confusion. She thought she understood. After all were they not soul-mates? She recognized his driven zeal. It was one of his appeals. But sometimes it was one of his more annoying qualities.
"I must ask you something."
"Can't this wait?" He asked. "The Joker could be ready at any time now. We have to stop him."
"It could wait for whatever it was you were doing at the flying contraption."
"You mean the helicopter?"
"Yes that. What was it that you took from there?"
"This." He said, offering something that looked like a small black box. "It came from the weapon Joker must've used on Cyborg."
He turned and started walking again. This time, she walked by his side. She took the small, dark object in her hands. It's feel was smooth and cool, clearly made from some metal alloy.
"You believe you can use this for the saving of Cyborg and to reawaken him from the coma?" She asked as she eyed the object.
"Maybe. It's the bit that creates the EMP 'spark', if you will. The rest of the gun just shoots it outward. This machine has a ridiculously small range, but if if I reverse the polarity and place it against Cyborg's power core in his chest, I should be able to spark him back to normal. Only…"
"Only what?" She wondered.
"Only I'll need a sample of 'Overload's' specific energy-signature."
"We can find him after, correct?"
"Yes."
There was something in the way he said it. She noted an underlying concern and decided to press on it, despite his haste.
"Something about this does the bothering of you." She stated bluntly. "It's as clear as a Glorknork on a solar eclipse."
"It's just strange that he spent all his time getting Gotham's worst to come here and try to kill me, just to use one of our 'local' enemies and use it in his weapon. And what does that mean for Overload? Are we going to have to worry about him too? Where has he been all this time? What other part does he play in this?"
She wished she knew. If only she could offer a piece of advice to support him. But she could not. Instinctively she knew he was on to something. He had that look she'd come to recognize. When the cogs turned relentlessly in the back of his head. But for what revelation, she was too far removed from his past.
As they turned a corner, still finding no opposition, she reflected on this side of Robin being brought out tonight. Sure he'd always been driven and tended to become very serious when the stakes were high. But this was different. It showed her the Robin she knew hadn't always been the Robin she knew. He came from a world less… goofy.
It was hard to believe, yet undeniably true, that he'd once been even more dead-serious about things. Perhaps the Batman's tutorship had something to do with that. She'd never met the caped crusader herself. But just as the Joker was known and feared by all, so was the Batman known by all. And, if truth be told, also a tad feared. There was just something dark and mysterious about the Dark Knight that spoke to your deepest worries. It was as if he'd made an aura for himself. One made of pure night. And it was impossible to separate him from it in your mind's eye.
Batman and Robin. She'd heard the tales. There was still much of Earth's culture, or many cultures to be precise, to be learned. But she'd learned of the dynamic duo before long. They'd made a legendary pair, hailed as heroes and feared by criminals. And the more she learned of the seemingly inseparable pair, the stranger it seemed that he'd never once contacted him, in all the time she known Boy Wonder. He'd never said why he'd left Gotham behind, nor his tutor. And she'd always respected his not telling. But in her way she'd pushed him to pick up contact again. To see him sitting lonely in his dark study, brooding with the bat-shaped communicator in his hands, just like he'd been doing earlier this night before all the crazy mayhem had been unleashed, was too much for her heart to bear. She could not stand friends not being happy. And the idea of friends falling out of touch, going as far as to avoid contact even when longing for it was alien to this alien.
And their separation was especially problematic tonight. For all the support she could be to Robin. For all that she knew about him. And for all that she could do to help him figure things out. … It was not what he needed in this night of rendezvous. The boy walking beside her was a Robin from the past, walking between shadows of déja vu's. He needed his link to that time. He needed a support she could not give. He needed someone who knew him in a different way and could thus help him figure things out… It was worth one last shot.
"Robin?" She tried.
"Yeah?" He asked as he took the small black device from her and pocketed in his belt.
She stopped walking, and luckily he did too. They came to a stop in front of a large painting of the Joker dressed like an Earth-astronaut, looking off into the sky at the moon and his helmet clenched under his arm. Robin eyed her and obviously noted the concern on her face.
"What is it Starfire?" He asked.
"Before you say this is not the time, I wish for you to consider." She tried.
"Consider what?" He asked.
"I know not how this crime's clown prince thinks. I haven't the gorfiest of an idea why he does what he does. So I can not do the helping of you figuring it out."
"What are you getting at, Starfire?" He asked, frowning.
"l am just saying I understand you feel alone in this fight." She let the words sink in before continuing. "But you need not be."
He was smart enough to understand what she was getting at, without having to say it. "Wow." He replied solemnly. "So you don't think I can take down the Joker, lead us to victory, without… him?"
"No! That is not what I am saying. But would it be so unwise as to ask the Batman for his advice? Can you not just call him?"
"It won't do any good to call him now, Starfire." Robin sighed. "Trust me."
In for a penny… She'd come this far and despite him not saying yes, he was taking it better than she'd feared. "Can you not just call him and bury whatever it is between you two just for this night? You seem willing to do everything else it takes to defeat the Joker."
"No, you don't understand why it wouldn't do us any good. I've..."
His words fell short and she could see the epiphany appear on his face. It was slow, like a glacier taking a peek behind the peaks, creeping up ever slowly.
"Son of a..." He uttered. "Starfire! You're a genius!" He declared, looking up from his dazed state of mind and peering straight into her eyes.
"Why, what for?" She asked
"I know now!" He said. "I know what part 'Overload' is playing in this tonight. I think I get it now, I know where he is!"
"Where?" She asked, her heart going out to the salvation of their friend.
"Gotham." The spiky-haired teen replied.
Her heart sank. The Dark Knight's city was on the other side of the country. And without a proper mode of transportation, those being blown up along with the rest of their tower, it might as well be a world away. It would take a while before they could even take an airplane over there. Even if they could stop the snowfall tonight. The planes wouldn't be able to fly for many hours, perhaps even days. And even if they were to get out of town and drive to the next, it wouldn't be tonight that they restored Cyborg. Let alone the fact that they'd have to track down Overload in Gotham, if he even really were there. On that matter, she wondered.
"How do you kn..." She started.
But a movement caught her eye and interrupted her. Her leader caught her gaze and turned quickly. Now he too saw the clown-mask wearing goon in green dungarees. Though the mask hid his face, it was obvious that he saw them and that he was shocked. Him dropping the wrench in his hands was simply an emphasis. In his left hand the man was still holding the doorknob used to enter the hallway; frozen in time. The sounds of the room he'd opened up to them was unmistakable. The heavy clanks of machinery. The sounds of steam and whistles. It was the machine-room they'd been searching for.
Suddenly the man jotted into action, doing his best to disappear back into the room. For all she knew his voice carried throughout the blimp.
"Titans!" He screamed.
But he never reentered the room. The blast of orange energy from her hand made sure of that as he lay a few yards further down the hallway.
"Let's go!" Boy Wonder shouted, gearing into action himself.
She could barely keep up with him. But they did manage to arrive at the door together. As they peered into the brightly lit room filled with machinery they noticed it was filled with something else as well. The green dungarees were everywhere. Their clown-masks eyed them maliciously as they advanced slowly, some slapping the crowbars or wrenches and metal chains in the palms of their hands. Though she was certain she could count them, she wasn't sure she could do it while they walked towards her in their threatening manner.
Her Robin turned to her. "I think we can take them." He offered.
"I believe you are correct." She replied.
And from that shared moment on, words became irrelevant. Robin readied his last, already battered and at one edge ripped staff in his one good hand. Her hands and eyes started glowing. They rushed in as one. Their cries of war were primal.
From the darkness bubbled a single experience. It was not even close to a thought. Like a new-born baby there were only the most basic of senses and the inevitably accompanying understanding of being. But concepts like 'self' and 'other', 'in' and 'out' were not yet present.
It felt like an eternity, floating in the darkness. Simply feeling and being. No memories. No ideas. No sense of self-preservation. The first complex thought, after what seemed like aeons, was the realization of weakness. Self-preservation seemingly a faraway illusion. There was only surrender to the darkness… both inside and outside.
Inside and outside… Both were darkness, true. But a concept arrived; kicking things into gear. She was thinking now. Understanding the experiences, the senses. She realized their impulses didn't just run to her brain. They were telling her things. Important things. Urging her to undertake action now. To do important things!
Like breathe!
In opening her mouth she found that she had one. And with it, as well as the lungs that acted on instinct, she tried to gulp in the substance she started to remember as air. But she didn't remember it hurting so much. Those very same lungs cramped and protested now. This was wrong. It wasn't supposed to hurt!
Inside and outside… Both darkness. But different. Hers was her own. Raven's darkness. It would always be with her. But the darkness around her was different. It could go away. If only she opened her eyes.
And so she did.
The world was green and troubled and it stung her open eyes. All the while her lungs kept protesting as hard as they could. But through the coldness she now recognized as a liquid, clinging to her and covering her. She could see the blurry face looking down at her. It jogged her memory instantly.
The Beast! It's teeth, it's eyes, it's fur… It was undeniable. She could feel it's hands upon her pushing her under. The liquid in her lungs was about ready to send her into shock by now. But not before the realization sank in that this was the dreaded moment. Her fears come true; the book had not lied. The beast was drowning her. As her body started shaking in retaliation to the liquid in her lungs, she felt herself drift back to the darkness from which she'd so briefly emerged.
And yet… There was one thing keeping her from going.
A poet might've described it as love… or even a will to fight and live.
But it wasn't, not really. Perhaps love played it's part. But only because death denied such a thing.
And she would not take any more of that. She would not be denied. This was unfair and it would not stand. What stopped her from giving in was nothing short of unfiltered rage. This would not be how it ended! Not by it's hand! Not like this! Not now!
She gave into the darkness. But the not the one rushing in from outside.
Even though he knew he was safe, under the Red God's protection, the horseman of War took a step back as the green liquid inside the Lazarus pit jetted upward. It was a like a geyser, enveloping the hulking behemoth that had once been Beast Boy. And when the water settled, dripping back down, it revealed the sacrifice struggling for it's life.
It was more beautiful than he could ever imagine and felt truly blessed to witness her becoming. Her four red eyes shone fiercely. Numerous dark tentacles born from the shadows beneath her cloak wrapped itself around the beast's arms and legs and midriff. Both struggled for control, displaying their awesome strength. And he, War, was neigh on weeping to see Raven have finally become Death incarnate. Death made flesh through rebirth. The final angel was reborn. And the Red God of War would have his way.
She ended the struggle by tossing the beast of creature across the pit. Even with the liquid slowing him down, the impact it landed on it's back against the wall with was impressive. It roared as it got back up, emerging from the green substance, and charged for her.
Giant black claws appeared from thin air and struck him down. One hit from the left. Another from the right. When she brought her hands up, the shadowy claws arose from the water and smacked him upwards; leaving him to fall back on his back. It leaped to it's feet and proceeded to jump for her. But a black wall summoned between them put an end to that. One second later, however, The Sacrifice punched straight through it; shattering it completely.
War watched as Death incarnate retaliated. The dark tentacles unleashed like a hundred whips; striking relentlessly. And yet the monster advanced through the onslaught it grabbed her by the shoulders. Large disembodied dark hands returned the favor; but squeezed it's neck instead. The horseman of War watched in silent shock as the two were locked once more; their combined six eyes looking at each other. Until finally, four of those eyes started fading, and two disappeared completely.
She didn't feel like herself instantly. Rather she slowly crept back into control of her body and mind. And when she could finally call herself herself again, she could see the predicament she and Beast Boy were in. Raven allowed the rage to escape her body. And as the dark hands on the Beast's neck faded, so did it's grip on her shoulders. Carefully and slowly she felt the tension die. The idea that neither could actually kill the other grew in the back of her head. And she realized she'd followed it without certainty; taking a rather large gamble but for now at least it seemed worth it.
With the adrenaline still pumping through her veins, she could feel her chest heaving as much as his did. And her heart was thumping in overdrive. But before long his body shrank and grew less hairy. Within instants the boy she knew so well stood before her, looking as tired and empty as she felt. Their hands found each-others' elbows and gently grabbed them as they steadied eachother. Their foreheads locked. Her hands moved up to his chest as his trailed over her arms up to her shoulders. In his arms, she remembered dying. The light going out and the void claiming her. But now she was back. And the experiences and memories flooding back to her all at once were overwhelming. Before worries or objections, walls or second-thoughts had a time to resurface, her deepest emotions ran rampant and vocalized her thoughts.
"I love you too." She said, the tears streaming down both their faces. "I love you too."
Their lips met; an embrace within an embrace. And for an instance, standing in the pit of green substance, she felt at peace.
Until they were interrupted.
"Touching!" A familiar voice called out.
They both turned to face the known deviant.
"Immortus." Beast Boy grunted. She recognized his voice as a mixture of fatigue and pure wrath.
"Hardly." The bald man in the hood replied. "Call me War. And these are my fellow horsemen; Famine and Pestilence."
He went on, gesturing to the two figures flanking him. Both wore the same hooded robes. One of them had a giant gas-tank on his back and wore a matching gas mask. The other, Famine, wore the Mask of Komaï.
"And..." He continued, now looking her straight in the eyes and smirking. "Death."
She felt her hands clench into fists and her brows furrowing into a frown as she returned the stare.
"I have to say though. Your fight was a bit anti-climatic." The bald man went on, gesturing theatrically. "But then again, I'm glad you didn't kill him. After all; we'll need him later."
"You creep!" Beast Boy shouted, trying to move through the pool towards his nemesis.
Her hand shot out and stopped him. Something inside her told her this was not the time for clobbering. It was the time to get answers. And if they could just get this egomaniac to keep blabbing his mouth, they'd finally get to the bottom of it all.
"What do you need him for?" She asked.
"What do 'we' need him for, you mean." He corrected her.
She disliked the way he said it. And she was even less fond of the deep and hidden thing inside of her telling her he was right.
He seemed disappointed, and yet totally relaxed, as he went on. "Really now Death… I'd hoped your ascension, your rebirth, would've opened your eyes. Not only to your role in all this. And to your alliance. But also to the beauty of our cause. No matter though. That will come later. The Red God of War always provides." He paused, seemingly enjoying the look of confusion and dismay on her face. "And that, my girl, is why 'we' need our Sacrifice. You know of what I speak… Of whom I speak. You need only look inside yourself and face it. And you will, when the time comes. Both of you will play your parts, willingly."
"Are you insane?" The green titan by her side demanded. "We'll never join you!"
At that, the villain had the audacity to snigger.
"You already have." He smiled. "You've lost, Sacrifice. You've already chosen to serve a greater purpose. Perhaps you don't see it now, but the bonds have been made. The pieces have moved and the game has been played."
"Nothing's changed." She challenged.
"Oh no?" He asked, clearly aware of something.
With a devious smile on his face he turned around, facing the tunnel leading out of the chamber. He stepped aside, allowing both Beast Boy and herself a proper view of the entrance.
"What the..." The changeling beat her to it.
Walking with dignity, three horse-shaped creatures emerged from the dark tunnel. One was a sickly pale steed, ravaged by dry and raw skin, horrible rashes and many dark discolorations. It walked up to the one known as Pestilence. The second was a thin, white mare. One could count all of it's ribs and see all of it's bones, barely hidden by flesh. This one walked up to Famine. And most glorious of the three was a proud, strong steed. It's body Bordeaux and it's socks and mane made of flame. It came to a stop next to General Immortus, who patted it's noble head.
"The legend said these would only be summoned once the four of us were complete." He spoke. "What does that tell you, Death?" The three of them climbed effortlessly atop their mounts as one.
"We won't let you unleash Armageddon." She threatened.
If the man was bothered, he didn't show it.
"You do well not to let anything bad happen to that necklace." He said, turning his attention from his horse to her.
She looked down and found Beast Boy's late mother's necklace around her neck.
"Just in case you get any ideas about stopping us by destroying it."
"Why wouldn't I?" She bit back, ignoring the fact that it was one of Garfield's only keepsakes to a loved one. She dared not look at him as she said it.
"For one it would be rather ungrateful to destroy the thing that helped you surpass death by becoming it personafied." He spoke in a jovial tone. "Who knows, perhaps it'll take away your rightful place as Death incarnate, born flesh into the world, and return you to the realm of the dead all in one. But mostly, you'll need it to find us."
Something inside her told her this was true. She hated it, but couldn't ignore it. And yet another question burned inside, before they could undergo action. "Why do you want us to follow you?" She asked.
"Both of you will have to be in the right place in the right time." He answered honestly. "You'll have to join us to play your parts."
"So why on earth would we do something as stupid as follow you?"
"Because people will also suffer if you don't, you have my promise on that. That, and I have faith. Besides..." He grinned maliciously. "Who else could hope to stop us?"
When he started to turn his horse around, she realized it was now or never. Pointing her arm to a thick, stone pillar to the left, she shouted: "Azarath Metrion Zinthos!"
The pillar broke off, shaking the integrity of the cavern. And it was sent flying straight for them. But before it impacted, Famine's body expanded and contracted. Her lower body remained seated on her mare, but the upper part stretched outward and expanded into a rubber-blanket like shape, catching the pillar and catapulting it straight for Beast Boy and herself. They could only barely dodge it by ducking, or rather diving down. The stone pillar crashed somewhere behind them in the pit. It's high velocity impact was more than enough to make her stumble.
When she reemerged from the liquid, it took her a few seconds to rub the excess out of her eyes and reacquire her sight. With drops running down her hair and face, she could see Beast Boy rubbing his own eyes. The dark tunnel was now filled with a green gas, no doubt it was Pestilence's doing. The horsemen had all disappeared. It didn't take the green titan long to come to the same conclusion. And he even noticed something before she did.
"Dude." He remarked. "Is the water draining?"
She looked over and found where the pillar had impacted. Indeed there was a hole in the floor of the basin. The green substance around them disappearing into cavernous void below. This was a strange place if she aver saw one. She cupped some of the fleeting green water and examined it more closely. As it slipped through her fingers, her eyes wandered to all the ninja's lying on the ground. She hoped they were unconscious. Beast Boy too seemed to notice them.
"Did..." He started. "Did I do that?"
"I think this is a Lazarus pit." She said, attempting to distract him. It worked to some extent as he turned to her. "I remember Robin talking about them."
"How did we get here?" He asked.
"I was shot." She replied, wading closer to him. "I think I died."
She could read the worry in his face.
"You saved me." She assured. "You brought me down here and brought me back."
"I don't know what I did..." He gasped.
Trembling as they did so, his fingers ran through her wet hair. His hand stopped at her neck, his fingers resting at the back. She could feel his palm on the side and the tip of his thumb cradled behind the lobe of her ear. She relished his touch, both careful and strangely determined. It was as if he were checking she was actually real. Her fingertips found his cheeks to do just that and ran over it gently.
"How did it… The Beast… How did it know what to do?" He asked.
She feared a sinister and dark answer to that question. But dare speak it, she did not.
"Tell me we belong together." She demanded instead, well aware her voice was shivering. Their foreheads locked once more. "Tell me you are mine and I am yours."
"Raven..." He breathed.
But she was not finished. "Tell me that this is right. This moment. And tell me we can never be separated. That we are one; bound."
"I am yours." He said. "And you are mine. And nothing in the world can ever break us apart."
She kissed him passionately, feeling a strange hunger for his reassuring words. The grips of both their hands intensified. And all the while she didn't close her eyes, nor did he, as they laid their souls bare.
But there was a sound that caught her attention after their lips parted. She turned to her right and saw the figure emerge from the gas-filled hall. Dread returned full force when she realized what it was.
"What is it?" Beast Boy asked, looking down the same tunnel after she did.
"You…" She started. "You don't see that?" She asked, never taking her eyes off of it.
"See what?"
He really couldn't see, she realized. It was only her that could see the white skeleton of a horse standing their. It's empty eye-sockets in it's skull looking straight into her soul.