Author's Note: I would like to note that this chapter is a little odd... Larkin's past with Raven may seem irrelevant now, but it is necessary to explain his feelings towards her, and to understand that the malice that exists between them now stemmed from a love neither expressed for each other. No more will be said. You'll understand later.
To Heather: Yeah, I suppose Raven is a little poetic in that speech. Due to my lack of interest in revising this chapter, you may find more infamous typos and poetic speech. Normally, I try to revise things before putting them up, but I was too damn lazy this time. Oh well.
To Yuna: I'm glad you're enjoying the sequel. At first, I was unsure if whether or not a sequel was needed... I had left the ending of Dangerous Minds open FOR a sequel, but had never intended on writing one until Heather wrote her captivating tale. I love to find people keeping track of a story and its sequel, it shows loyalty to a story, and it proves that it must be worth reading. Returning readers are often a favorite of mine.
To Shannon-of-tamaran: I am always glad to see new readers and people who can jump on the band wagon without having to have read the prequel (unless you did and didn't review/I forgot). It shows that this story is as interesting as its predecessor, and that it's easy to understand solo as it is with its prequel. I also admire your courage. Normally (and I must be honest), I'm hypocritical and don't read sequels unless I've read the first because I'm afraid of being confused. Because of this unusual fear, I try and make my own sequels (when I write them-- I tend to shy away from them) as clear as possible so they can be read as a stand-alone as well as a sequel.
Also, thank you all of you who are reading this and not reviewing. Often times I stick with a story and never review until the end. I don't review because it isn't good, but more because I would have nothing of value to say other than "write more!" (which, by the way, are one type of reviews that somewhat bother me, especially when it's the only two words in the review). Or, it may be because I'm lazy. Basically, what I'm saying is, I appreciate that you're reading this story. Unlike in the past, I won't beg you to review-- I find it doesn't help much anyway. All I ask is that you stay with the story awhile until it meatens out a little more and just enjoy it. So thank you to those anonymous readers I will never know.
In short, thanks everyone. Thanks Heather, thanks to people like Yuna who liked "Dangerous Minds," thanks to people like Shannon who have not read DM, but are enjoying this story, and thanks to all who read this for enjoyment and do not wish to leave a comment. I love you all. :)
Chapter Two: 12:00: Deadly Deadline
"Raven?"
Starfire stared in wonder at her stoic counterpart. Raven's eyes were closed, her face gaunt and expressionless. She had only turned away from her for a moment to close the door to the roof, because the clock's announcement of the hour had disturbed her. Now, the telekinetic seemed lost in thought.
Starfire waited patiently for her friend to respond, but Raven remained silent.
"Raven, are you damaged?" Starfire asked, worriedly. An eerie feeling fell over her and she had a very odd premonition. Something didn't seem right. "Um, I will be downstairs participating in the ritual of watching the television, so if you have need of me, you may find me there... Um, goodbye..."
And with that, she rushed out the door as quickly as possible, leaning against it once inside and breathing heavily. It had seemed strenuous being in Raven's presence, as if all the energy and happiness were being sucked out of her. It had even felt difficult to breathe. Starfire couldn't explain it.
She heard a rumble of thunder in the distance and hoped Raven would have the sense to come in before the storm.
12:00
By noon the storm was attacking full force. Starfire was snug on the couch watching Cyborg and Beast Boy play video games, a little confused as to how it was done.
"And how is it determined who wins the battle?" she asked.
"Whoever kills the other first," answered Cyborg, pulling his controller to the side as he avoided a blow from Beast Boy's character.
"But is it not the person who relents in killing the other out of honor and respect?" said Starfire, looking worried as Cyborg countered Beast Boy's attack and knocked him to the ground.
"Haha!" Cyborg declared. "One more shot, and you're mine!"
"Star, it doesn't work that way," said Beast Boy, concentrating on the screen. "It's kill or be killed."
"But I have noticed in some Earth cultures fighting is an honor, as it is in Tamaran. One does not aim to kill his opponent, merely demonstrate his great skill."
"I swear, when she talks, she sounds like someone else..." Beast Boy muttered, squinting his eyes to focus on the screen.
"Let's put it this way, Star," Cyborg said, as Beast Boy's character hit him to the ground. "Do you fight to show your skill? Aw, man that was a cheap shot!"
"Was not!" said Beast Boy, grinning as he'd hit Cyborg down a second time as he tried to get up, thus winning the game.
"I fight to maintain justice," said Starfire. "But in this game, you seem to fight and kill merely because it entertains."
Both boys looked at the bemused alien girl blankly.
"And your point is...?" said Beast Boy.
Starfire sighed and shook her head, once again confused with these sadistic Earth customs.
"Relax, Starfire," said Robin as he came over to them from the training room. "There are some things better left unknown."
And then the door slammed.
All heads turned as she walked mechanically down the stairs, soaking wet and dripping water in a puddle as she went. She made her way past them towards the elevator, looking like a zombie, seemingly unaware of all the confused eyes upon her. When she reached it, she seemed to snap out of her trance somewhat. She turned and blinked at them.
"Hello," she said. "What are you looking at?"
"Where are you going?" Robin asked.
"Out," she replied, simply. Robin frowned at her.
"In this weather?"
"I've been in it this long, haven't I?" she said, with a raise of her eyebrows, almost daring him.
Robin was stunned. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. "I..."
"Look, I'll be back," she said, seeming to warm, which only made them more uneasy. "I'm sorry for being so cold I..." she looked away and her eyes seemed to flash with something... alien. She looked up again, her face devoid of emotion as usual. "I have to clear my head a little."
"Raven," said Starfire, eyes wide with interest. "You were saying, up on the roof, about..." but Starfire trailed off at the confused frown on Raven's face. She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly and quickly.
"No, Starfire," said Raven. "I believe we finished our conversation on the roof."
"You were concerned," said Starfire, bemused, "about–"
"A quick mental sweep and my concerns have been put to rest," Raven interrupted sharply. "That's why I didn't respond to you... up on the roof... A mental search of the city and any surrounding suburbs. He's gone. Put your fears to rest." She addressed the rest in an almost bored fashion. "I'll be gone about an hour. I need to get my head together. The search drained me." She smiled at them, and Starfire noticed Beast Boy even shiver at the unusual expression. "Don't worry, I'll be back before you even miss me." And with a sweep of her cloak, she was gone.
Everyone stared at the closed elevator doors.
Frowning, Robin seemed to finally find his voice. "Well... that was... odd..."
"Most peculiar," Starfire agreed, nodding.
"What's with her?" Cyborg said, shaking his head in bafflement.
Beast Boy stared blankly at the elevator for a moment. "Yeah... Hey Cy, wanna rematch?"
Cyborg glared at the changeling with a twisted half-smile. "You bet your ass I do," he said.
The two Titans now engaged in mortal combat, Robin stood, still staring pensive at the elevator. Starfire watched him in intrigue.
"You are concerned?" she said.
"When's the last time you saw Raven smile?" he mumbled. "I mean, really. And not try and hide it."
Starfire struggled to remember as she bit her lip. "I do not recall any recent occasion of this phenomenon."
"That's what disturbs me..." said Robin. And without a word, he turned on his heal and retreated to his room, leaving Starfire to stare in wonder at his retreating back.
Abby Clarke stared at the number of the white door in front of her. 297. She wasn't entirely new to the nursing profession; she'd served in the ER and OR of Jump City Memorial her first two years after school. But this was her first rotation in a mental ward of any sort. And something about Sun Oak's Psychiatric Hospital bothered her. Maybe it was how all the patients seemed eerily deranged. More than your average schizophrenic or hypochondriac. Their criminal ward was especially creepy. She remembered the room of a man by the identification of Dr. Light. He mumbled incessantly about the cold and always wore about a million blankets, always shivering despite the sweat that always covered his brow. His eyes were perpetually bulging out of their sockets. Terrified of the dark, he was one of the only rooms on the ward allowed to keep his light on.
Abby knew that life in Sun Oak's would be different. But she'd never expected this. She'd minored in psychology in college, so she'd arrived slightly prepared for what she may encounter. But there was no way she could ever have prepared herself for the little boy laying in that room.
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
The boy was already awake, sitting up in bed and rolling his head around on his shoulders, groaning off the extra fatigue Haldol often left on a patient. Dr. Taylor had warned her to be careful...
"Good morning, sweetie," said Abby slowly, giving the boy her biggest smile. She held up the tray so she was sure the boy could see it. "I have your lunch. I hope you don't mind peanut butter and jelly."
The boy stopped rolling his head. He straightened his neck and looked directly at her. It reminded Abby of something straight out of The Exorcist. The boy's skin was deathly pale, his mop of brown hair was greasy and tangled. His eyes were dark and deep; undecipherable. But he seemed to look straight through her.
"Who are you?"
What? Abby thought. Did he speak? To me?
"I..." she stuttered. She could have sworn Dr. Taylor had said the boy never acknowledged another's presence unless he was viciously tearing them to pieces with censored words and descriptions. "My name is Abby. I'm a nurse here."
The boy seemed to frown. "Nurse? I'm in a hospital?" he gasped. "Oh God, what happened? Are my friends here? Oh God, my head!" The boy moaned and closed his eyes, the blue veins sticking out prominently on his eyelids.
Abby took a deep breath and bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement. He was responding to treatment! This was excellent! And he said he had friends! She wanted to jump right into it, but decided to wait. She swallowed her joy and put on a neutral face. "You are in Sun Oak's Psychiatric Hospital. You were found wandering by the city zoo, agitating the animals, and were dragged kicking and screaming into this hospital, muttering nonsense. You are now in the isolation unit because you haven't responded well to social interaction. I've been told that psychiatrists who've come to speak to you have been scared away. Is this true?"
The boy looked confused. "You speak as though I've been here a long time..." he said. "I couldn't have been here more than... a day at most, depending how long you knocked me out for."
Abby laughed at his sense of time. "That's probably just a side effect of your illness, sweetie. You've been here six months, from what I've been told, terrifying doctors and administration alike with your raging nightmares."
The boy's eyes widened in fear and he shivered, his face looking more pale than before, if that were possible. "S-six months? Oh God..." he said, running a hand through his hair. He stopped short. He pulled his hand back in front of his face and looked at it in disgusted awe, as if it were covered in blood. His fear seemed to heighten. "Get me a mirror!" he shrieked in a high, panic-stricken voice.
So jolted by the demand, Abby gave a small yelp as she looked around the room. "I can't..."
"Just get me a mirror, dammit!" the kid shouted.
"OK!" said Abby, unsure of what else to say. She ran out of the room and to the doctors' lounge where her purse resided in her locker. She sifted through it a moment before she found a compact mirror. Sighing with relief, the petite brunette ran swiftly back to room 297.
There, the boy looked so gaunt, she would have sworn he was dead had he not been staring at her with anxious eyes. Her hand shaking (though she didn't know why), she handed the boy the mirror, counting every blue vein that popped out on his white skin.
Trembling, the boy opened the compact, looked in the mirror, and screamed.
The whole hospital heard his anguish.
The staff paused in their work a moment, then continued when the scream did not relent. It was like rain to them. Periodic and repetitive. They were unmoved.
"Whoa, calm down!" said Abby. "Relax."
The boy seemed to be hyperventilating.
"RELAX!"
He jumped at Abby's order and looked at her in surprise, as if she were the last person he'd expected to do that. She smiled, sheepishly.
"I may be small, but I have a big voice," she said. "Now, can you tell me your name so we can locate your parents?"
The boy was still shaken, but he nodded. "Ra... Ra..."
"Ray?" Abby offered. The boy could only nod, unsure of what else to do. His eyes were closed tight to hold back the tears.
"I never knew a mind could be so cold..." he sobbed.
Abby didn't know what to do. So she tried to keep detached. "Ray, can you tell me your last name, or your parents' names so that we can contact them and let them know you're alright?"
"No," said Ray, fighting the tears. He stood resolute and looked at Abby stoically. "No." He was firm. "I have no parents. But you can do me a... a favor..." Something was fighting his thoughts... like something was poking the back of his mind. An incessant annoyance, constantly prodding him. Like Chinese Water Torture.
"Yes...?" Abby prompted.
Ray tried hard to keep hold of his train of thought. Already he was beginning to be confused. "Tell... tell my friends..."
"Tell your friends...?"
"I..." Ray closed his eyes tight, as if fighting some unseen demon. He shook his head to clear it. "Tell them I love them," he said. He'd meant to say something else as well, but he couldn't quite recall... that annoying thing poking his mind...
"I'll be sure to do that," said Abby. "Could you tell me who your friends are?"
"T... Teen..."
"Teenagers?" said Abby with a raise of the eyebrow. "Are you in a gang, Ray? Did they hurt you?"
"No!" said Ray, adamantly. He took a deep breath and calmed down. "No," he repeated. "My friends... They're the T-Teen Titans."
Abby raised her head, her mouth slightly agape as she nodded slowly. "Uh huh..." she said, contributing this statement to the boy's delusions. "Sure, Ray, I'll be sure to tell them."
"It's important," Ray said, his eyes piercing. "You must... have them see me. Right away. Tell them I'm here."
Abby smiled. "Well, Ray, the Teen Titans have a very demanding schedule, I can't be sure that they'll–"
"You have to get them here!" said Ray, panic-stricken. "It's a matter of life and death!"
"OK, OK, I'll try," said Abby, trying to remind herself that the boy was deranged. She bit her lip and looked towards the door, then back to Ray. "Listen, Ray, I'm going to get your doctor, alright? His name is Dr. Taylor. He's a very nice man. He'll know what to do with you."
Ray could only nod, fighting the demons that plagued his mind and memory. What were these shadows that stretched over his consciousness, constantly changing as though controlled by a dark wind with a cruel purpose? He couldn't grasp a single thought long enough; it too quickly dissipated into thin air like mist by a waterfall.
As Abby left, he took a deep breath and tried to sort out his thoughts.
Raven, he thought. I am Raven. Raven.
It was as though she had to keep reminding herself of the simple piece of information. She was Raven, of the Teen Titans. Ray was a pseudonym. They already thought she was crazy. It was best not to enforce it...
But why was she here?
She cried at the effort it took to search for an answer. The claws of devils scratched at her mental wall, anxious to be released, like dogs barking at the door. But where did these shadows come from?
Struggling, she finally managed to retreat into her mind, her body relaxing.
It was a charred ruin of a psyche. The landscape was indiscernible. But it was not her mind. It couldn't be...
But wait. There was her pattern of meditation rocks floating serenely by the doorway to her emotions. This was her mind. How had it become so distorted?
Larkin.
The name was too familiar. Somehow, he must have found a way to switch their essences. If she was in Larkin's host body, then that meant...
It was easier to sort through her thoughts when she was literally absorbed in them. Though pieces of her mind were falling down around her, she still found clarity floating on her meditation rocks. If she was going to solve this, she had to do it internally.
She looked around at the destruction. How had he managed to damage her mind so?
As she had told Starfire, the mind and body were cosmically linked, like two perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. Somehow, Larkin had found a way to link his mental deterioration to his physical being, probably by channeling all his pain physically. Which explained the scars on his arms... With each scar, he had focused on one part of his mind, linking his mental issues to his body. Closing her eyes, she could see her arms. That scar by her wrist was for the memory blanks... and the scar below it for the damage to his extrasensory perception. That one was the deepest. By doing this, he had made sure that when he left his body, he would leave behind his mental injuries as physical. The scars would act as an anchor, storing the pain until it built up so much it would release its vengeance on any mind that came to the body, whether or not it was the one who had caused the scars.
Complex, but plausible. The scars were the root of Raven's sudden madness.
Repairing the damage was out of the question. The damage was too intense. Raven gasped as a tower of her personality collapsed and knocked over a childhood memory... For a moment, she was frozen, devoid of thought, trying to recall what she was there for. And where was she?
My mind! her mental voice shrieked in reply. This is my head! I have to stop this before it goes to far!
As she calmed down and ordered herself to focus, she caught a glimpse of her emotions through the portal near the meditation stones. They were clamoring in confusion, Anger, Sorrow, Fear and Regret fighting to be free and flee from their deteriorating home. Raven fought to control them. Not now, she had to concentrate. She would deal with each in turn later.
Examining the rate of destruction, she noted that Larkin had to have been floating outside his body for a while for the mental pain to have built up in his scars so much. If she was not out of this body within twelve hours, give or take...
A part of her Dream Center went up in flames, letting smoke bats and cotton candy bunnies fly away off into oblivion.
Better make that ten hours, she thought.
Suddenly, as if it had just come to her, she remembered the dream she'd had before she'd awoken in Larkin's body. And his warning.
The clock sings eleven, I'll steal your breath.
Your lungs, your heart in your beating chest...
The clock sings eleven, I'll make you bleed.
Pain will be when it sings thirteen...
She last remembered speaking with Starfire about it on the roof when her clock had gone off...
11:00 AM.
The first line must have referred to the morning hour... he'd stolen her body. But the second couplet...
She recalled her dream, unwillingly at first. The encounter had been so devastating, she'd tried to suppress it. But with her Dream Center falling apart and the disarray of memories, even her suppressed nightmares were rising to the surface.
If she did not find a way out before 11:00 PM, she would have no mind left. She would be forever condemned to live in that Hell. Over and over and over again.
He walked through the park, taking in the colorful coming of death that was the fall. The scent of decaying leaves was particularly strong, mingling with the fresh aroma of the falling rain, washing away the dead things and the secrets they kept in their graves. Rivers of orange and red lined the gutters of the street, the brown sodden leaves blocking the drains.
No one was around in the park in the rain, except for the random homeless man trying to shelter himself on a bench with a soaked piece of newspaper.
Larkin paused a moment in his meandering to observe this peculiarly futile behavior. The corner of his new mouth twitched into a strange smile. He stretched his fingers, looking down at them, impressed with the strength he could feel resonating from his protege's body. It invigorated his mind, healing it of scars of the past. He had not been in such a healthy body in a long time. And it was like being reborn. Such physical refreshing strength... young and vibrant, full of potential, full of life...
And, of course, her wonderful Talents were now hidden in the back of his mind, waiting to be unleashed.
Larkin's smile broadened at the poetic justice. The trade had been more than fair. The damage she had so coldly inflicted on his mind for the power that lay in hers. The mind and body had so many intertwining spider webs of energy linking them together, it was easy to snip a few and keep a few others intact. Raven's powers, generally part of her mental self, was bonded particularly closely to her physical self, which left stealing them quite easy. Getting rid of the rest of her had also been simple. In her sleep, when her mind was open to anything, he'd snuck in, subconsciously prodding her mind, telling her to open it to him at 11:00 on this particular day... a day of conquest. And what a wonderful conquest indeed.
Larkin had always dreamed of having the power of Azarath in his hands... Although he had originally intended it to be not so literal. His plans for using Raven as a pawn had been so perfect that had she not gone exploring his mind that one day, she would have been his at this moment, working against the very team she'd tried so hard to keep together. But it was no matter now. Raven would soon be no more than a blabbering idiot, trapped in her own mind and a head that wasn't hers. And her friends...
Larkin laughed out loud. Yes, Raven's friends. Would they suspect the change? He hadn't really intended on killing them, although he had told his former student that in order to alarm her. But in truth, Larkin was a strategist, not a murderer, and he sought for the solution that was in his best interest. Robin and the others were fit, young soldiers of justice. Well, the justice part would soon change. All that was needed was a little altering in personality, easily done by a man with Larkin's talents. A psychic liposuction. First, of course, their wonderful leader... They will follow him. And if they don't, a similar fate awaited them.
It was all too easy.
Perhaps... Larkin laughed at the thought. Perhaps they will even grow to love me. He bit his lip as he considered his reaction to such reckless decisions of emotion. And perhaps, I should love them back. It had been a long time since Larkin had truly loved anyone.
Raven, at one point, had actually been the recipient of this distorted emotion.
He smiled at the thought of it. He remembered clearly when the poor shuddering child had appeared on his door step...
It was a few hours after sunset. Larkin's apartment was finely furnished with modern art adorning his walls and yellow and black furniture, situated above a busy street in Piccadilly. He was preparing dinner for his son, Jordan, who had just recently come to stay with him. His mother had finally died in a car wreck a few weeks earlier, and the boy refused to speak. Larkin was watching the closed door to his son's room, contemplating what to do with him, when he'd heard a crash in the hall.
Frowning, he went to the door and noticed a neighbor screaming at a young girl, shivering from his wrath.
"Don't you know your sort aren't wanted here?" snapped his neighbor. "That was a new telly!"
"I... I don't know what you mean, I didn't do it!" the girl said with an American accent, her voice a quiet wisp. "I couldn't have, I was out here..."
"Oh yes you did!" the neighbor growled fiercely. "We've seen your sort up here before, that crazy Larkin fellow sees 'em all the time. You're another mutant freak from the experiment labs. You and your sort–"
"We have another one here, Bill, I see," said Larkin's other neighbor, a woman in her mid-thirties in a black cocktail dress holding a champagne glass. "Listen here, lass, I have a friend over, alright? He's not very impressed when microwaves and every other appliance suddenly decide to glow black and blow up, you hear? So why don't you run on back to where you came from, and leave the rest to me, alright?"
"But ma'am..." the girl stuttered, her voice deathly pale. The lights flickered and she shrieked with fright, closing her eyes tight to try and stop it.
"You see? There she goes again!" said Bill.
"I've seen enough!" Larkin declared, stepping out of his house.
All fell silent at the sight of him. Regal and proud, he stood like a king, illuminating the hall. His gray hair was gelled back, but he was far from old. Though it sported a few lines, his face was strong and wise, his stance reinforcing his majesty. His build was powerful, with toned but worn muscles. A scar decorated his left cheek.
Finally, the woman found her voice. "Larkin, we've had enough of the riffraff you attract. I'm telling the landlord the minute the phone she broke is fixed that we want you out!"
"You tell him that, Caroline," Larkin said, sarcastically. "Ask him if he wants to lose half of his monthly income by kicking me out. No one else will pay the price I do for this apartment." Larkin's countenance softened as he turned to the girl hugging her knees in the hall, on the verge of tears. He kneeled down next to her and spoke in a soft voice.
"My child," he whispered. "Come now, don't cry. You must realize by now that these things are triggered by your emotions. Fear, anxiety and sorrow can bring about some pretty powerful Talent."
"T-talent?" the girl stuttered. She frowned. "Not in this world."
"Talent, yes," the man said, nodding. He offered his hand. "Now, my child, come with me. I don't have much, but what I do have will suit you. My name is Charles Larkin."
"I know," said the girl. "I've heard your name many times where I am from. I have come in search of you."
"They always do," said Larkin with a warm smile, adding a soft sparkle to his gray eyes. "What is your name?"
"R-Raven," the girl replied with an innocent smile. Larkin nodded, his eyes warm and inviting.
"Raven, my songbird," he cooed. "Come now, my child. Let us escape from these prejudice and jealous eyes." He cast an accusing glance at his neighbors who scoffed and returned to their apartments.
The girl nodded eagerly and took his hand. Her hand was small and pale... She couldn't be more than ten years old. And she had come to seek him out. She would be the youngest of his followers. And yet– and he felt it as he took her hand– she was powerful beyond belief.
When in the comfort of his living room, she relaxed and opened up to him like a book of spells waiting to be read... and used.
Her name was Raven of Azarath, part demon, part human, with powers beyond her understanding and control. Her father was one Trigon, a man Larkin had heard much of and indeed, almost admired, in his study of Azarath. He nodded, fascinated, not letting on that he'd ever heard of her father. She was angry and passionate, young and full of emotions that needed to be locked away if she wanted to keep her powers in check. This would be done in time.
From there, he proceeded in helping her understand her powers and control her wild emotions. Because she was a vivacious child, passionate about everything, this latter lesson was hard learned.
"Raven," said Larkin to her one day. "You have to learn to stop feeling."
Raven looked startled. "How can you do that?" she gasped. "I don't want to be a zombie without emotion..."
"It will not take away from your personality," Larkin promised. "I have seen into your Emotional Portal. They are disarrayed and mingled, melding with every part of you, and therefore evident in everything you do. You are, by nature, an emotional person. What you need to do is learn to separate your emotions internally, and then close that portal so none will escape."
"But..." Raven began to protest, looking horrified.
"Do not question me," Larkin ordered. "You will do it, or I shall do it for you!"
"But... why?"
"Do you not wish to control your powers?" Larkin asked. Raven nodded. "Good. Because Raven, in this world, your powers are a menace. They have been put in the hands of a child who is not ready for them. Right now, you are young, your powers undeveloped. But by the time you are a teenager, they will be stronger than napalm, burning everything it can, your emotions as its fuel. Eventually, you could singlehandedly destroy the world."
Raven's tiny mouth was in a tiny 'O' by the end of Larkin's little speech.
"Why would anyone want this burden?" she gasped.
"To destroy," said Larkin. "It is the nature with you and your people. With your father."
"My father..." Raven's eyes narrowed angrily, and the room for a moment glowed as black as night, threatening to explode. Her eyes glowed red and Larkin jumped up and backed away.
"Raven!" he commanded, before she got too far. "Raven, control yourself!"
Suddenly brought back to her senses, the ten-year-old dropped her demonic face, breathing hard. "I'm... so... sorry, Larkin!" she breathed, choking back a sob.
"You see?" Larkin hissed angrily. She nodded.
"But I can't do it. You do it for me. I can't close off my emotions."
Larkin nodded, understanding. She was too weak.
Tenderly, he put a hand on her shoulder, needing physical contact to enter her Emotional Portal.
And so began his molding of an assassin.
Afterwards, Raven was eager only to learn more, devouring the power Larkin fed her like candy. She was no longer excited or furious by revenge. At least, not outwardly. Her talkative self disappeared and was replaced with a taciturn, gaunt ghost that floated about Larkin's apartment like a waif, absorbing his teachings.
To keep her emotions in check, and to remain healthy, she needed daily meditation in which she visited each emotion in turn, making sure they were released in a quiet, harmless way– mainly talking with them. She also used this meditation period as a time to hone her senses, working harder by the day. Each day, she would do battle with Larkin and his followers on a neutral mental plane. It was forbidden to enter another follower's mind. But Larkin and Raven were close enough that they were constantly in each other's heads. It was an intimacy Larkin refused to share with his other followers.
And eventually, it was a mistake that led to his own destruction.
Larkin had loved the child more than his own son. And yet, he had never intended on helping her. Raven had discovered that he'd wished to use her for his own devices, however she never learned the reason. Challenging Trigon on her own, no matter how powerful, would have destroyed her. And Larkin hadn't been ready to lose her. To Trigon or anyone else. Overprotective, he'd always intervened when a mental battle became too heated.
However, he did often wonder what a battle between the father and daughter would be like... Was there any possibility of Raven defeating this beast? If so, Larkin would never allow it. Trigon was a god in the demon world. He had done so many admirable things– admirable by demonic standards, at least. Larkin was continuously awed by his cunning and mental strength. His daughter had inherited the latter... but whether or not the former resided in her waited to be seen. She was a bright child, but she was naive.
No, a battle between Trigon and Raven must never take place. To lose either of them would be a terrible tragedy.
Raven, to him, was a prized possession. She was his best weapon against his enemies, and she would protect him from harm with her incredible abilities borne of Azarath demons. She would learn to listen to his every word without question, and eventually her morality would fall away and she would become like him and take his philosophies: No one else matters but yourself. At least, this is what Larkin had hoped would happen by sharing his mind with her. Unfortunately, it hadn't turned out that way.
She found out.
She learned that he wished to change her, to shape her into an invincible soldier to use to achieve his own means. Whether he loved her or not meant nothing to her.
And in a display of pure treason, the fatal blow to his heart, she banished him to the head of his own son.
Jordan had been an interesting case. An experiment gone horribly wrong, he had worked in developing Jordan's mind parallel with his work with Raven. Though the boy was a few years younger, Larkin pressed him to try harder, believing he could reach Raven's potential.
But a human's mind can only take so much, he learned.
Larkin was one of the rare humans born with the mental capacity of a demon and therefore, developed the lust for power of a demon, and a demon's morals.
Somewhat ironic that in most ways, he was more demonic than his half-demon protege. Although, Raven outshone him in demonic cruelty when she banished him with a cruel punishment. Since, his love for her had dissolved into indifference and he'd plotted his revenge. At first, he'd hoped to spare her life, and merely turn her friends against her. But now, she had crossed a fine line between indifference and hate. This time, she had banished him to a life of Hell. And she would pay dearly.
Smiling at the thought of his child, his Raven, his songbird, he continued on his stroll through the park, absorbing the crisp air any way possible.
It was so good to be free again...
"There you are."
The man in Raven's body froze at the voice. Taking a deep breath, he turned, looking impassive.
"You followed me," Raven said to the Titan before her.
"You have startled us," replied the red-head. "I was concerned for your well-being. You are acting peculiar."
Raven smiled. "What's peculiar about me, Starfire?"
The alien nodded at Raven's expression, her own face blank. "That," she said. Raven's smile disappeared instantly. "Why are you so... joyful? I am happy for your positiveness, my friend, however I do not comprehend... what has caused this change in you? I feel strange about you... like I should either embrace you with love or run away from you shrieking as though pursued by a Snarkhap. Who is this person you have become?"
As his amusement heightened, Larkin could feel Raven's powers resonating in the back of his head, reacting to his emotions, waiting to be freed. Having years of experience, he calmed them with minimal effort. He reached out a tentative probe to her oblivious mind, curling around it like a cat, finding her triggers that would make her more comfortable, more susceptible to suggestion and coerceon. Her tense posture relaxed, and she frowned, as if she forgot what she had been so concerned about. Larkin smiled in triumph.
"Starfire," he said soothingly with Raven's voice, warmly. "I have a home. I have a family. I have a purpose. Why shouldn't I be happy?"
But the girl was unsatisfied. She tilted her head and looked curiously at her friend. "But this is unlike you..."
"It is," said Raven, slightly irritated that she was still asking questions after his probing. It must be her alien mind, damn thing. Still as easy to manipulate as a human, none the less. He decided to use more words to convince her. The probe would calm her soon enough. "I've decided to turn over a new leaf. I was meditating one day when it hit me. I don't tell you all often enough how much I really need you. Thank you, for being there for me, by my side. And you. Starfire, you are the epitome of friendship. When Larkin came and tried to destroy Robin's mind, you trusted me. Thank you."
Starfire blushed, modestly. "Y-you are my good friend, Raven," she said, her voice as tiny as a mouse. "I would always trust you."
Raven grinned what seemed to Starfire quite a wicked grin indeed. "And that, beautiful Starfire, is why I love you all so much."