Flashing Lights and Sounds
By Jedi-and
Disclaimer: I do not own TT, nor do I own Mr. Noel Collins or Robert Candide but I DO own my own characters.
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Chapter 16: There Are More Things In Heaven and Earth Horatio...
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Alone...
A demon sits alone, being cast from the heaven that he had created for himself, by the very people he had fought so hard to protect.
And so he sat, alone, lost in a world where they would not accept him even for his triumphs. At the moment there were only his thoughts.
Oh, and the rain. It dripped from his hat, slowly at first, until the rain picked up and soaked him through to the bone, through the bandages, into his wounds, through his very essence. Poor young fool, perched on the top of the old bridge like a bird waiting for its master's undeniable return, but no one would come for him.
He stared out to the water's edge, away from the tower, trying to think, trying to rationalize what had happened, what he had done. Lightning glinted off his face before it once again faded to nothingness; saddened blue eyes stared out into the void of darkness.
Nigel Hastings, from this point on you are no longer a member of the Teen Titans.
Drivers on the bridge thought it may have been the devil sitting on the support, preying on passers by, others saw who it was and wondered if he was keeping lookout for something, perhaps a mafia cargo ship carrying drugs from Italy. They obviously watch too much TV.
The truth was he didn't know what he was doing there. So high up above water. I suppose after the numerous amounts of times he's fallen in and survived, it doesn't really matter anymore, even if he did fall in it wouldn't matter, as he was now very much on his own with no one in the world who gave a damn about a singular homeless Blacktrinian. In actuality there were hundreds like him, without homes on earth, having grown sick of endless war and fled like him. But he didn't go on a vendetta to avenge them. Instead, he put away the back ally criminals to try and make them more comfortable, to give them a better way of life, and perhaps him being a superhero might make the people who run this world acknowledge him and his race a little more. But no, the government still didn't care, and swept under the rug like every other alien race, forced to live in urban slums unless you came with valuables and a trade you could practice here on their new found 'paradise'.
It was strange. A few days ago he was inside the tower, laughing and joking with the others as if nothing was wrong, but now...all gone. Now he was an outcast, nothing more than a down-and-out fool who did all he could to save lives and ended up destroying one by mistake; a life that was never given the chance to breathe real air, never able to smile or laugh or play, a child that was never given the chance to live because of his imprudent mistake.
He hated himself for it, but he also hated other things.
Earth was a haven from the empire that once bore Nigel and his brethren. The doctor recalled in his mind the past of the empire from one of the textbooks he had read when he was younger. In ancient times the Empire was commanded by a man called Gorang Hollocus. He had planned that Earth was the perfect target to pull under the Empire's newly formed thumb. The earth was primitive and in a state of confusion, easy territory for the up and coming kingdom to swallow whole. But the ruler was a fool and a coward. In a bluff, a race that was protecting the earth for their own reasons said that a race of fierce battle hardened warriors called the Altagar were the protectors of the earth and said that they would destroy the Blacktrinian race.
Panicking, the ruler got his legal advisors to write up a treaty. Not happy with the cowardice of his superior, the military, lead by the strategist Kan t'ro, went to find this race of 'super beings' and test their might to see if they were as powerful as the other race claimed. The reports were slightly exaggerated, as the race stood no chance against them. By the time the military got back however, the emperor had signed the agreement that his race would never try and take over the planet Earth. And so was the law, which is why earth was so perfect for a man trying to escape what he once called friends and family.
But now actually on Earth, is it such a paradise? Before, when he was part of the Titans, he would get warm smiles and only the odd estranged gaze, but now that he lost his position those gazes appeared more and more, to the point that he can't even show his face out of doors during the day. Lost from his family, lost from his friends, this shell of a man had nothing left.
"HELP!"
Except maybe saving the day, he did have his obligation after all, and once the super hero bug bites, it's hard to get out of it. Turning, the alien saw what had happened, a bus loaded with children was teetering on the edge of the bridge. But then again, when is a bus that was in danger not loaded to the brim with children? Looking over at the tower he saw all the lights were off, meaning that either no one was there or they had taken an early night off.
"I'm on my way!" He shouted as he grinded down the large support beam of the bridge towards the helpless children, sparks coming off his claws even in the tempestuous weather. Drivers stopped to see this demon descend from a great height...and once again change came to strike down on Nigel, as rather than seeing a member of the Titans, they saw a villain who wanted to finish off whatever job he had started.
Nigel, or should I say Scalpel, calculated the situation quickly and determined that the bus needed to be pulled back as soon as possible, so, using the momentum that he had gained, he plunged his claws deep into the metal chassis, gaining a foot hold onto this mechanical beast. Children screamed, and drivers got out of their cars and raced over. To help? No. To try and remove Scalpel from the bus.
With all his might, and pure will, the doctor pulled, his body tensing and straining, water still dripping from his hat and ears as his gritted teeth ground under the weight. The fact he was soon attacked by a group of adults didn't really help matters.
"Hey! Someone call the cops! This guy is trying to kill people!"
A man grabbed hold of Scalpel's arm and pulled, trying to get his claws out of the bus.
"Foolish human!" Scalpel yelled as he shrugged him off and continued to pull on the bus, before five men all tackled the alien to the ground and the bus started to go over the edge. Enraged by their blindness, the ex-Titan threw them off into one another and grabbed his glaive. Taking a rope he had in his cape, he tied it to his weapon, when and where he bought said rope didn't matter as he took it and threw the glaive down into the bus, breaking the back window and with one quick tug on the rope the glaive extended, shooting through the two back, side windows, effectively creating some form of support bar. With his claws deep in the ground, he held the weight of the bus still, his arms straining under the immense weight, but with all the injuries that he had sustained less than a week ago, it was becoming difficult.
"Someone... please help them." He begged to himself as the rope slipped out of his wet metallic claws a little before he reasserted his grip, right at the end of the rope. He bent down to try and use his leg muscles to pull the bus up but he knew that it was in vain and on his own he might fail these people.
"Please?"
Nothing.
And the bus finally slipped out of his grip.
He fell, landing on the cold hard concrete, his blue eyes staring at the sky, hoping for absolution. Another group of lives he could not save.
Yet...there was no splash, and this puzzled the young Blacktrinian slightly, as he looked over the edge to see the buss surrounded by a form of energy.
Black energy.
He stared into the sky, wondering, and there he saw the dark angel herself, her cape fluttering in the wind and the rain. Even as the maelstrom got heavier she floated there, unmoving and inexorable in the eye of the storm. One of the few titans that still liked him, still respected him as a person. As a Titan.
Raven, her arm still in a sling, floated down as the bus moved up against the weather and gravity and as soon as it was close enough, Scalpel grabbed the rope that he had placed and dragged the bus onto the bridge, and in a paired effort they managed to 'save the day'.
The drivers, who had previously tried to hurt the young hero, approached him now with their hands on the back of their necks, in their pockets and so on, obviously now realizing who he is.
"Um... Sorry." The first one said. Nigel just gave a harsh glare along side a slight growl that forced the by-standers to back up a little before he then turned to leave until Raven stopped him.
"Scalpel... Are you okay?" She asked lightly, still in a slight monotone as rain blew her hood back, as well as blowing Nigel's hat off. He luckily caught it quickly before it blew off the bridge. Walking over, he pulled his glaive back from the bus with one quick and powerful tug and started to wrap the rope up.
"I don't know any more." He stated lightly, his dark eyes staring down at the short woman, probably one of the few people who could actually understand him, as she too was a demon in the world of men. Before he could refer to her more feelings, his ears twitched as he faintly heard the sound of a grappler being fired amongst the rain drops in the distance. "The Titans will be here soon." He stated, looking over to the tower.
"True, but I don't think they know you are here." Raven replied, replacing her hood.
"Maybe." He replied, doubting it. And his evidence of their knowledge was brought on radio waves as Robin called into Raven.
"Don't let Scalpel escape! Capture it at all costs!" The dark pair heard the voice of their leader over the Titan-com in her belt. Raven looked back at the alien who took her by the shoulders.
"Forgive me Raven." He drew back and hit her deep in the ribs, a punch that sent shockwaves out in the water around her feet at what appeared to be pure power (indeed, the effort made him twist his body to an extreme). She landed on her knees, her body frozen in shock, and he jumped away, using the bridge's cables as his escape route.
A moment or two later, Robin and Savior arrived to aid the goth lovely, finding her trying to breathe on the wet floor. Robin shouted in anger and fired off his grapple again, swinging off as he returned to the tower, with no hope of finding the long reaching alien now.
"Why did he..." Noel asked, surprised at this turn of events.
"He didn't hurt me." Raven, finally managing to catch her breath back, said as she stood upright, brushing her cape off. "He wanted to knock me down so I couldn't follow."
"But still, why didn't he just run off?" Noel said, the rain still trailing down his face.
"Because he knew that Robin would give me a few 'words' regarding the fact I let him go." She responded, looking briefly in the direction her friend had fled.
"So it was just for show." Noel stated, also looking in the direction he had run.
"Yes but he knew exactly were to get me in order to stop me breathing properly." She gasped a little, her breathing still a little laboured, her hand trying to aid her diaphragm to move.
"I think it's a shame he was thrown off, he's a good person at heart." He turned to Raven, who walked over to the bus driver. "What were you doing out so late anyway?"
The bus driver, who was a slightly dishevelled man, sighed and replied.
"School trip. The kids had just been to the theatre to see a play about a man who was thrown out of his own clan."
Raven stared at Savior, who shrugged.
"Irony, thy name is life."
----------------------------------------------That was some time ago. This is now.
And so we rejoin the alien who had previously escaped from his former master. He had once again scaled a bridge to overlook everything; however his choice this time was the old abandoned bridge. You could see the new Steven's bridge from it, but this one was an old rail bridge with a footpath. Trains didn't run across this bridge much anymore, not since the incident a few years ago when someone tired to blow it up in a fit of paranoid delusions saying that people were using this bridge to ship weapons.
"Strange view." He looked on at the previous bridge.
"Indeed it is." A new voice called from behind. The Titan twisted quickly and nearly fell off the bridge because his metallic claws couldn't gain any perchance on the metal work, but was luckily able to catch a hold on the side just in time. Clambering up, he saw who had addressed him.
It was a young woman, around his age, maybe a year older. She had brown shoulder length hair with deep brown eyes and a rounded face. Her attire was strange as it consisted of a black jacket with 'tails' with a grey waist coat underneath which was both covered by a black long coat. Her trousers were suit trousers with black striped going vertical and smart black shoes. The shirt she wore was a bright white shirt with a butterfly collar and a purple cravat with black stripes going diagonally across it. To finish off her attire she had a black top hat with a purple band.
"I'm so sorry!" She spoke as she offered a hand to the young alien, who quickly took it and in a paired effort, pulled him back onto the bridge. "I didn't mean to startle you." She said softly.
"What are you doing out here in this weather?" He asked, looking down at her. She had a curvy figure with wide hips and thick thighs, but her height didn't really help her out as she wasn't exactly the tallest person in the world and so she looked... stocky.
"I always come here, just to relax and watch the hustle and bustle of everyone else." She replied, looking out onto the horizon. "Why did you run away from the Titans?" She asked politely, a little shy at first. The question didn't really surprise him as he had appeared in the newspaper, so it was public knowledge he was a Titan but seeing him running away from his friends was a little disconcerting.
"I did something I wasn't supposed to, and now I'm against them rather than with." There was a slight pause.
"So you're a villain?" She asked, almost amused.
"Not yet. I'm still a hero, just not with them anymore. Perhaps this is a good time to quit." He sighed. The pair stared out towards the new bridge before she took another look at him and his non-water proof jacket, seeing how his old bandages hung from him because the rain pulled them off. He had been kicked to hell and back, yet he was still able to stand. Such is the determination of a Blacktrinian, but finding a place to rest is another matter, as he was always moving.
"Listen, you're soaked. Come back to my shop and we'll get you dry." She said, offering to lead the way. He was a little reluctant at first. She turned around to see him still standing there. Slowly she walked back, took his arm, and pulled him to her shop.
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"Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better." The young woman offered him a cup and sat down in a chair in an office, presumably at her shop. Well I say shop but I really am telling a bit of a fib, you see, this was Sophie Mathews, the local Undertaker.
"Thank you." He took the cup graciously and drank it down, seeing as it had been his first proper drink within a few days. As he sat on the sofa there, in a bathrobe, he looked around her living room. It was relaxing; it had dark green walls and comfortable oak furniture. To top it all off it had a wood fire, so that was lit and Scalpel placed his clothing near by to dry out. His medical bag, which was hidden in his cape, was also drying but its contents were drying a more traditional way without any assistance from heat as things like gel packs and the occasional drip feed solution he carried would spoil if heated. It surprised the young woman how much stuff was actually inside the small bag, but then again the wonders of pockets never ceased to amaze people.
"Do you have anywhere to go?" She asked lightly, sitting down with her own cup. She had taken off her jacket and over coat. Her grey waistcoat was simple but silky, with a gold watch chain going from the centre to one of her pockets.
There was a brief pause as they both waited for the other to speak. The rain became heavier and the clouds were even darker than before, only lit up by the lightning that arced across the sky. The crackling of the fire and the thunder was the only things to intersect the quiet in the room.
"Well you could-"
"Mind if I-"
A brief laugh between them before they both paused and started over.
"I can let you stay here for a few days; I need an assistant to do lifting for me so that would be a job for you." Sophie said, sipping her hot chocolate lightly before continuing. "I usually have a group of people who help me work, but they quit for some unknown reason, all of them. So I'm on my own now, and I'm not strong enough to lift the equipment."
"I'd appreciate the work." There was another pause. "But, why me?"
His question came as a surprise to her, but she just gave a warm smile and shrugged. It wasn't hard to understand why he asked such a question. He dealt with villains and thugs all the time. He has seen the darker side of humans, and how often that hide behind good intentions, so when someone does something like this out of the kindness of their own heart it may seem a little suspect.
"Well you've done a lot for the city, I think you deserve better than to stay out on a wet bridge and freeze to death." She replied, standing up and taking his cup out to the kitchen for a refill. In all honesty, Sophie was a kind hearted young woman. Her grandfather owned the funeral home/morgue in which she lives and works in. However, eventually his business became his fate, as with all humans, and when he died her father refused to take over the business. Her father was some big time business man, while her mother was some hot shot movie star, a gorgeous and glamorous blonde bombshell, and she didn't want to dirty her hands with such a business. So at a young age she took over the family business, against her mother's warnings, and has been successful for the past two years.
She came back in with a blanket, but by the time she got there he was already asleep. She laughed lightly and walked over to him. Lying him down in a more comfortable position, she placed the blanket over him and bid him good night. She made a mental note to call a doctor in the morning. She wasn't blind after all.
"Night hero." She smiled once more to herself and made her way upstairs to her own bed for rest.
Blissfully unaware that a greedy man had his eye fixed on her location.
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Scalpel's night, though restless, was a relaxing one. It had been his first decent night's sleep ever since he left the tower (He had tried to sneak into a pillow factory, but his metallic claws alerted the guards). His breathing that night was somewhat laboured though.
As you may remember, Scalpel had been stabbed through the back, choked, beaten, throttled, clawed at and even shot in his encounter with the White Hole. His body was a royal mess. Add that to the never healing wound in his chest given to him by Savior when he had tried to kill Myth, and you might just be able to say things were not going his way. Over the past five months he had been kicked around, thrown about and his body was generally abused in attempts to either kill him, or escape his capture.
It was better than his previous occupation, a doctor or rather mechanic for the Empire, fixing people up to go out and get maimed, mauled, or killed again. He felt some stings and pains, but his exhaustion was too great for him to take more then a passing notice of it. What finally woke him up were a pair of voices talking, and the mention of his name.
"I think he's waking up." A male voice said as he started to stir. Sure enough, he saw a man with light blonde hair, in his mid thirties, changing the bandage on his cheek.
"Huh?" He looked around to see Sophie standing there as well, dressed up in her usual uniform.
"These are some pretty nasty wounds." The man, whose badge said Dr Morrison, remarked. "Not only are they severe to begin with, you've managed to pull all the stitches, making the injuries even worse."
"Even the internal ones?" Nigel asked as he rubbed his eyes with his palm.
"I'm not sure. I'll check back in a day or so, but I can't see any signs of internal bleeding." He finished replacing the bandages. "My advice to you, Mr. Scalpel, is to stay still for the next few days. Whoever did the stitches the first time around was an incompetent, and whoever did them the second time was just unfortunate."
"I was the incompetent." He smiled. "It's hard to stitch your own chest closed when you tend to bleed over yourself." He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep again, the painkillers kicking in. The doctor looked over at Sophie, who then led him out.
You can understand Nigel's annoyance, it's like being a carpenter and then going to another person's carpentry store and saying their wardrobe is a flat pack set of shelves. Right?
"What did he mean by that?" He asked.
"Maybe I can get him to explain when he is awake." She replied, and nodded. "Thanks again, by the way."
"Hey, it makes a change; I don't often come to a funeral director's to see someone living."
Sophie groaned. All her life she had been getting this. Every time she was ill she went to the doctor's and they would ask her when her next corpse was, or asking when she was going to be embalmed. He smiled, waved and left in that order.
"Is he gone?" She jumped. Spinning on her heals she saw Nigel standing behind her as if nothing was wrong.
"Yes he is, and you are supposed to be resting." She commented, somewhat of a pout on her face before she tried to push him back. No luck really. Nigel, despite having more holes in him than a cheese grater, was still quite the immovable object. And Sophie was far from an unstoppable force.
"If I am unable to do something, ANYTHING, then I might go insane." He replied softly. "Now, how about that work you offered me?" He smiled his ever so toothy grin as she gave up trying to push him. She panted lightly from the effort, placing her hands on her knees.
"I am far too unfit to try and push you around." She stood up again, neatened the cravat she wore, made sure her cuffs were in place and grabbed her coat. "You are not doing anything until I am satisfied that you are strong enough. And...hey, didn't you fall asleep?"
There was a pause.
"A ruse, my hostess. I didn't want to spend any more time in that doctor's company. And besides, human painkillers do not have the same potency." He shrugged again. Being a Blacktrinian, he had two hearts, and so drugs moved around his system at an alarming speed, but it meant they were not as effective because of the distance they had to go.
"Well I have to go out and grab some things before I open up today. Stay in the living room and watch a movie okay?"
"Which one?" He asked her, looking a little bemused.
"Any one, just don't make too much of a mess."
He shrugged lightly after Sophie has shut the door and walked into the living room again. And so he searched though the shelf, eagerly waiting to see what was there.
He groaned. Chickflicks, more Chickflicks, a Race movie, Cannonball Run, Gumball 3000 and so on and so fourth. She's a hopeless romantic piston head. Great.
He managed to get to the back of the shelf though and found a rather interesting looking movie with two men in black suits, dark glasses and black hats on the cover. It stared a man called Dan Akroyd and John Belushi.
Oh what an exciting day he has in front of him. He was somewhat grateful though, it was his first day off in a long time and he could do with a little bit of vegetating in front of a few good movies.
We now join the kindly undertaker as she makes her way down the road, towards the shops. It was an average day there, nothing very exciting was happening, everyone going about their lives, doing this and that.
See, in the normal world, things didn't happen every few seconds, and action wasn't around the corner. Most of us know this all too well. Boredom seems to strike us when we most want to do something. It's the world's wondrous way of reminding us that we should appreciate it when things do happen. Or DON'T happen.
Today was Sophie's day. Nothing extremely violent was going to happen, just something life changing.
As I said, Sophie took over the family business of the undertakers with quite a few complaints from her rich parents and her greedy brother. She and her brother, though only being a half brother, never saw eye to eye. She liked things to stay the same and remain relaxing, while he wanted everything his way where and when he beckoned for it. Unfortunately for him, Sophie didn't comply.
There was an inheritance clause in her grandfather's will, saying that anyone would gain the property and indeed the business itself if they wanted to keep it as a memorial service directory. Only when no one claimed it would it be turned over to whom ever wanted the land. Before her brother could claim it, she jumped in and said she would run the business.
Significantly spoiled by his father, he used what political power 'Daddy' had in his pocket to try and get the land, as it was supposedly rightfully his, as if it been given to him by fate. The fact that it stood on what would be prime real estate, and that inside it was huge, didn't mean a thing, really. Really.
But Sophie never backed down and with her small time lawyer friends; she managed to beat the big movie lawyers at their own game.
"Hello dear Sister."
Until today that is.
"Ah!" She spun on her heals inside a local supermarket, nearly dropping her shopping basket. "Tony! What are you doing here?!"
She stepped back a little. They never got along at the best of times, but after this whole incident with the ownership, it had just escalated things even more. As I said Anthony Walter Mathews was the typical spoiled rich kid. He went to private schools and he now belonged to a University, You know, one in which you have to give a 'gift' of one million dollars to the dean before entry. He was part of a special club for the most privileged of students who got better food, accommodation and even grades because their teachers said so, because his father was such a valued member of the community. But it was never enough. He wanted as much money as possible and all of it right now. He owned three luxury sports cars, a limo and even has his own butlers, chuffers and maids.
Sophie, however was different. She went to public school and she has yet to attend college or university because of the undertaker business. She doesn't care for money; as to her it's worth nothing in the end. Her only car is an old Ford Boss 305 Mustang that she had rebuilt and restored from scratch. And by that I mean she had spent a huge amount of her own money and a lot of her free time restoring it to perfect working order while doing all the work herself. As for the servants, the only person that looks after her is herself.
"What's wrong? Aren't I allowed to visit my own sister?"
"Depends, why are you here?" She snapped back at him, pulling her coat a little closer to her.
"Always dressing in those dishevelled rags you call clothes. My, my, why don't you ask Daddy for a little bit of cash." He shrugged lightly, the fine leather on his jacket creaking lightly.
"I made my bed; I have to sleep in it. Going solo was my idea. Are you done? Or did you want to taunt me about my fashion sense a little more?" She glared at him, his arrogance showing through.
"Well...there was another thing, but I doubt a commoner like you would understand." He paused, and then cleaned the wax out of his ears, not even looking down at her. She growled a little. "But very well. I have found a little 'loophole'." He smirked a little.
"Loophole?" She pondered, looking up at her taller, smug sibling. Had he really devised a way to get what he wanted? That must be it. He's come here to gloat.
"Well according to the will, if the ownership of his shop was to change hands amongst the family, it must be done of the anniversary of his death. Anything other than that wouldn't count." He paused for dramatic effect. "And seeing as it's the old man's death day today, I have my 'friends' tearing your house apart as we speak for the deeds to his shop. At midnight tonight, the store is mine!"
He thought Sophie would have cowed at this, trembling before him like the ungrateful bitch she was.
She didn't. He raised a brow.
"Why are you so calm? Are you not worried?"
This time she was the one who smirked.
"There is a slight flaw in your plan."
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"Is this the place?" One of the thugs asked, looking through the window. Luckily the front room was actually at the back of the house and Nigel was wide awake, watching movies, while commenting that half of the budget of this movie must have gone into police cars.
"Yeah, the boss said that we're to go in, trash the place, grab the deed, and then come out and give it to him before the cops arrive." He said, lifting up his Black Jack to the door's little window. And no, I don't mean the card. It's a lump of various materials, usually solid leather or plastic, hard enough to knock a man unconscious. He broke the window and unlocked the door. "See? Easy!" He laughed as the door swung open.
"Oh really?" A clawed hand came out and grabbed the man's head, and with little effort tossed him against an adjacent wall. He bounced off and tried to get up...at least until he saw who had tossed him. And he read newspapers.
"SHIT! A Titan! Let's get out of here!" He shouted, the thug scrambling to his feet. The second thug stopped him.
"Look at him though, how is he even standing?" He said, as he scanned the bandages. Scalpel stared at them with one eye, the other one having been covered because of cuts above and below the eye. To prevent the wounds from opening, they had covered his eye also. Ironically, it was on the same side that had been ripped out of the White Hole.
"We can take him." They psyched themselves up. Today was the day that they took out a Titan!
"Are you ready boys?" He asked, cracking his neck. "Then let us play."
And with that, they charged him.
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Jedi: A short but sweet chapter there. I hope you liked it.