Firestorm
Teen Titans/Batman: The Animated Series
Amos Whirly

Chapter Fourteen: Those Who Walk in Darkness

Stately Wayne Manor was quiet in spite of its numerous house guests. Not surprisingly, Bruce had retreated to the depths of the Batcave as the reunited Teen Titans milled around the first level of the mansion.

Cyborg was in the kitchen, talking to his wife on the telephone. From the tenor of his voice, Nightwing immediately assumed that he was downplaying his involvement in the battle.

Alfred was bustling busily around the stove and pantry, preparing a voluminous buffet of cold cuts, salad, and soups. He stopped short, though, when he spotted Nightwing leaning on the doorjamb, watching him.

"How may I help you, Master Dick?"

Nightwing straightened and moved into the kitchen with a grim expression on his face. "Warm milk."

"Warm milk, Master Dick?"

"Yeah. With lots of cinnamon."

Alfred regarded him silently for a moment before smiling gently. "Of course, Master Dick."

In a few moments, Alfred had fixed a steaming mug of warmed milk, smelling of vanilla and coated with a heavy layer of cinnamon and nutmeg on its surface. Nightwing accepted the steaming mug from Alfred with a nod and left the kitchen.

Cyborg hung up the phone and watched him go.

"Did I miss something?" he asked Alfred.

Alfred smiled again, vaguely. "It's somewhat of a tradition, you see, Master Cyborg. When Master Bruce was a child, he often had nightmares. I would always fix him a cup of warm milk with cinnamon when he awoke, and it would always calm him down. Well, naturally, when Master Dick came to us, also plagued with terrible dreams, Master Bruce would have me fix him a cup of warm milk as I did when he was a child."

"And Nightwing's having nightmares? I'm still missing something."

"I am assuming, Master Cyborg," Alfred chuckled, "that the milk is not for him. Rather, for a young woman who, I understand, is going to have some difficult issues to come to terms with."

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Nightwing paused on the stairwell at the sound of a quiet laugh in the living room. He peered around the doorjamb and smirked at the two figures sitting on the couch. Raven and Beast Boy seemed deeply involved in some conversation and did not notice him watching.

Raven had rebandaged the bullet wound on Beast Boy's arm, and she had shed her warm cloak, leaving her only in the white robes that fluttered around her lithe frame.

After only a moment, though, Raven turned her head toward him. "Do you need something, Nightwing?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head and looked up the stairs.

"Something smells good," Beast Boy hopped up from the couch and sniffed at the mug of warm milk.

"It's not for you," Nightwing pressed his index finger against Beast Boy's forehead and pushed him away. "It's for Star."

"How is she?" Raven asked quietly.

"Quiet."

Raven sighed and folded her arms across her chest as she looked down. "I should have done it."

"Done what?"

"Taken care of Blackfire. I could have, but I didn't. I thought it would be better for Starfire to handle it on her own."

"Yeah," Beast Boy scratched the back of his head, "but I didn't think that she'd actually kill Blackfire. I mean, I didn't think Star could kill anybody."

"Anyone can kill," Raven countered darkly. "It's just the aftermath that's hard."

"Aftermath?" Beast Boy cocked his head, his dark green hair ruffling with the motion.

"Dealing with the fact that you've taken someone else's life," Nightwing held Raven's gaze. "And not just anyone, in Star's case. Her own sister."

"I don't get this," Beast Boy let his shoulders droop. "Blackfire may have been Star's sister, but she was trouble. She was trouble the first time we met her, before she was a homicidal maniac. She would have come back again if Star hadn't done something."

"And Starfire knew that," Raven glared at him. "That's why she did what she did. But I'm sure it didn't make it any easier." Raven turned her glare to Nightwing. "Don't let her stay alone."

Nightwing nodded and started up the steps, leaving Beast Boy and Raven to return to the living room.

He stopped outside the upstairs den and pushed the door open. Starfire was sitting on the balcony, staring at the night sky. The wind caught in her fiery hair. Her green eyes were distant and sad.

Nightwing cleared his throat and sat down beside her. "Here," he offered her the mug of milk.

"What is this?"

"It'll make you feel better."

She accepted the mug and sipped it hesitantly. "This is good. What is it?"

"It's warm milk," Nightwing leaned back. "I'm not sure what Alfred puts in it, but it always made me feel better – when I was – upset."

"Thank you."

They sat in silence for a long time, watching the clouds, watching the moon, watching the lights from the city reflected in the gloom of night.

"Is this what it feels like?" she suddenly asked.

"Hm?"

"Is this what it feels like?" she turned to him, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "To feel a darkness so deep within your soul that you cannot escape it? Is this the darkness that the girl-bat spoke of?"

"No, Star. You shouldn't feel darkness."

"But I do," she set the mug of milk down and hugged her knees to her chest. "I feel darker than the skies of starless space. This darkness within threatens to overwhelm me, and I do not know what to do." She choked on a sob, and the tears began to fall.

Automatically, Nightwing scooted closer and pulled her into his arms. She folded into his embrace and cried into his chest.

"It's not darkness you feel, Star," he whispered. "It's – sadness."

"Of course, I am sad. I have killed my sister. My flesh and blood. My beloved Blackfire."

"You did what needed to be done."

"Have I not shown that I am as evil as she was? By destroying her utterly, I have displayed my own lust for—"

"Star, stop it," he pushed her back and looked into her tear-stained face. "You couldn't be evil if you tried." He hung his head for a moment and then looked at her again. "Why did you do it?"

"Why?"

"Tell me why you killed Blackfire?"

"Because," Star whispered, tears still slipping from her eyes, "she was dangerous. She had threatened all of you the first time she came to earth. And this time she actively tried to hurt you all. I knew," she hiccupped. "I knew if I did not stop her this time, that she would come back again. And she would be more violent the third time. And I might actually – lose – my friends. I could not bear for that to happen." She took a shuddering breath. "So I chose to accept this darkness upon myself."

"That's not darkness, Star. Darkness would have been letting her go."

"I do not understand."

He shifted and crossed his legs, focusing on the grain of the wooden floor of the balcony. "You don't have any darkness inside you, Star."

"But you do?"

"I do."

Star picked up the still-warm cup of milk and offered it to him. He stared at her blankly before chuckling. "See?"

"See what?"
He took the mug from her, set it on the floor, and gathered her hands in his own. "You're the one who needs to be comforted, and you want to comfort someone else. That's not a sign of a dark person."

"Then what are you doing here, if you are not comforting me, Dick?" she gazed steadily at him. "If the desire to comfort is indeed a sign of the lack of darkness, perhaps you are not as dark as you think you are."

"That's different, Star."

"Please, explain."

He took a deep breath and squeezed her hands. "Do you want to know why I never took you to the circus?"

She moved closer to him, wiping her eyes. "Yes."

Nightwing licked his lips. "I used to be in the circus, Star. My family and I were trapeze artists. Do you know what that is?"

"The graceful people who fly without wings," Star whispered incredulously. "You were one of their number?"

He chuckled at her awe. "Yeah. Me and my mom and my dad. One day, just before a show, I walked into the tent and saw a man leaving with a knife."

"A knife?"

"He'd cut the ropes."

"The ropes?"

"The ropes that we swing on."

"And he was cutting them?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he wanted revenge on the manager for firing him or something," Nightwing shook his head. "I heard the argument that they had. I knew he was trouble, and I should have said something. But I didn't. I tried to tell my parents, but we had a show to do." He clenched his jaw. "The ropes didn't hold. My parents fell. And I did nothing."

"You would have stopped them if you could have," she patted his knee. "I know your heart."

"Do you?"

They held each other's gazes for a moment before Starfire looked into the heavens. "I remember a day, long ago, when I was a child and when Blackfire was too. We were home, on Tamaran, in a field of snordfar. We lay beside each other in the grass and watched the clouds. She was happy then, not seeking wealth or power or vengeance." Starfire leaned against Nightwing again. "As I watched her yesterday, I could plainly see that she was not my sister. She was not the person I had loved and admired as a child. She was corrupted, twisted, and evil. I—I had desired to keep her the way I remembered her when I was young – a beautiful warrior with integrity and kindness – but I could not deny her dreadfulness when I beheld her yesterday."

She sipped her warm milk, now cooling.

"I am still sad."

"You're going to be. But – But it will get better." He took her hand. "And I'll be here for you."

"Thank you for sharing your darkness with me."

"I promised, didn't I?"

"You did." She watched him for a moment. "I cannot stay here."

His jaw twitched. "Why not?"

"I have responsibilities," she stood and leaned on the balcony railing. "I have duties I must attend." She turned back to him. "Blackfire was the heir to the Tamaranian throne. When she was arrested, she forfeited that right. With my coming of age a few years previous – Dick, I am the ruler of Tamaran."

He climbed to his feet and leaned on the railing beside her. "You're the Queen?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"It was not important. But I must return to Tamaran, Dick. I must return to my people."

He reached out suddenly and took her hand, holding it tightly and watching how the moonlight shone on her white skin.

"I let you go all those years ago, Star," he whispered. "I won't let you go again."

"I must. I cannot stay on earth, though my heart yearns to be with you." She leaned against him, laying her head on his shoulder.

"You're right. You have responsibilities."

"I must return home."

"Then, I'm going with you."

She drew back, startled. "Go with me?"

He drew his hand down the side of her face and cupped her cheek in his palm. "When I watched you leave, it felt like everything I knew died. I've been alone ever since you left, Star. I don't want to be alone anymore."

"You would – truly – you would come to Tamaran with me?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," he leaned closer to her. "I love you, Starfire."

She gasped softly as he kissed her, and she folded into his arms as he surrounded her and pulled her closer than before. When he released her, she did not attempt to move. She lay in his arms, cherishing the solid beat of his heart beneath her ear.

"I no longer feel so sad," she whispered against his chest.

"Good," he smiled. "I'm glad."

"Are you?"

"Yes," he leaned against the balcony rail. "I'm happy."

"I have a problem, though."

"Yes?"

"Whom shall I say that I love? For my first love was Robin, the courageous boy who taught me how to live. My second love was Nightwing, who risked his all to help me. My third love was Dick Grayson, who shared his darkness with me. Whom is it that love?"

"That's a good question."

"I shall say that I love them all," she concluded with a chaste kiss to his lips. "For they are all you. A part of each of them remains in you. And I could not live if I could not love them all."

"So does this mean you'll marry me?"

"Most certainly."

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A/N: Not done yet. One more chapter. Sorry, I lied in the last update. I meant to update sooner, but I had a little issue called a final exam. . . . .