Slam.
Robin didn't even care now, if anyone heard that. If anyone stormed into the room, wondering about the slammed window, and caught him, half in costume, exposed for all the world to see. He didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered.
He'd failed.
And it hurt him deeply. He'd never failed before. He'd always been able to find a way to win, to figure things out, to work things out, so that in the end everything was as it should be. But today he'd failed. He'd screwed up big time and now everyone he cared about was going to suffer because of it.
Whatever, he thought darkly. I don't care.
Robin angrily tore off the rest of his uniform, going through the red t-shirt and the green spandex pants, stripping down the hated uniform that had brought him nothing but grief from the moment he'd first put it on. He changed back into a white t-shirt and jeans he kept in the apartment. It was rented out in the name of Dick Greyson, and the landowner, a young lady named Bridgett Clancy, didn't care that he was never around as long as his payments were made on time. It was a temporary shelter, one he'd never had to use before now except to store some personal junk he hadn't wanted lying around the Tower for his teammates or his enemies to find.
He burned his costume then and there, in the small one-room apartment. Burn it down and burned away his old life. Robin was gone and dead.
And so would Dick Greyson follow, without a doubt. Already he could tell there wasn't going to be any aid for Jump City. They were cut off from the outside. The police were, predictably, no help at all, not even the special forces squads who aided in the capture of metahumans and monsters. They were no match for Tartarus. No one was. No one on this side of the dark shield, at least. So everyone was hiding in their homes, off the streets, afraid to go out for fear of being attacked and killed by Tartarus. There were no mention of the Titans. Or if it was, it was in hushed whispers in nearby alleyways, some people wondering where they were. Others, knowing they'd already been beaten.
Angrily Robin blinked the tears from his eyes, wiping them away with the back of his hand. He'd been too weak. Slade had been right. Ravager had been right. He'd been weak.
His fist lashed out, slamming hard into the wall, but again he didn't care. Didn't care he might've broken his knuckles (a distinct possibility), didn't care the neighbors might've heard, might've said something. He just didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered.
Starfire...
No, he angrily pushed that thought of his mind. She was as good as dead now anyway, and he'd brought it on the Titans with his pride and ego. She'd been nothing but kind to him and he'd brought nothing but suffering to her. She'd've been better off if she'd stayed on Tamaran as a Princess and left the Titans forever.
Clutching his bloodied fist to his chest, Robin sank down onto the tiny sofa and stared at the wall.
Stared for a very, very long time.
Robin cringed when he first heard it. Even though he knew it wasn't really there. It echoed in the back of his mind. He pressed his hands to his ears, but of course, that wouldn't stop it.
Laughter.
The Ravager's cruel, mocking laugh. A laugh that mocked him, mocked everything he'd fought for, everything he'd suffered for. Mocking his life and everything he'd ever valued. Robin cried out in defiance, but the laughter couldn't be silenced. And with that laughter came a slew of other sounds equally painful. Voices. All in his mind. He could even identify them.
"You'll never make it out there like this."
"You want to go? Then go."
"Hope your plan included getting fried.".
"But you do lack patience."
"You did not trust us.".
"Another year or two and you might actually pose a threat."
"You're just a stupid little kid!"
"Better luck next time, kid"
"You can't even touch me."
"You cannot defeat me."
"Feeling outmatched, Boy Blunder?"
"You killed my father."
Growling darkly, Robin sunk deeper into the couch, staring at the wall through the hate-filled eyes. Sunk deeper into the couch, and deeper into despair and darkness.
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Titan's Tower was a disaster, the whole place was a complete mess. Boards of steel and bars of iron littered the whole place. Every so often, there came the screech of metal against metal, generally followed by a crash and a cry of frustration.
Cyborg grunted, leaning against the heavy beam for support as he panted hotly for breath. Once again, he hadn't been able to lift it. It was too heavy, and with his leg still broken and his power supply low, he hadn't been able to muster enough superhuman strength to move it. Angrily he pounded his fist against the bar. His room was underneath it, and he couldn't get to it.
"... move damn you!" he cursed aloud, again throwing himself into the task, digging his fingers into the steel and pushing... pushing... lifting...
... and then dropping it with a pant for breath as his power again nearly gave out.
A beep caught his attention, and he lifted up his right arm to see what it was.
Power Cell Low. Five Percent Power Remaining. Suggest Recharge or Shutdown
"Damn..." he muttered. Power was running low. He wouldn't be able to maintain this sort of work for long. Yet his re-charger was underneath that overturn wall of metal, and without that he was up the creek without a paddle. He couldn't get at it. His strength was at bare minimum and he couldn't risk a sonic shot, he'd be completely drained in no time.
"C'mon Cy you can do this," he said to himself, trying to boost his admittedly poor morale. "You don't need a team. You did fine as a superhero on your own before you even met that spiky-haired little bastard."
Something of an exaggeration. Before meeting any of the Titans, Cyborg hadn't really been a hero. He'd been a freak, or so he'd viewed himself. A construct of science who would've been far happier if the car accident that had taken his mom's life had done the same to him. But no, his father had saved him, grafted mechanical parts onto his body to keep him alive and then enhanced them to make him superhuman. All out of love. A love that, at the time, Cyborg had not returned. He'd hated his father. They'd long since reconciled, but Cyborg had never been able to completely put to peace who and what he was.
But he'd done alright out on his own. Cyborg had it in him to help the little man, and now that he was a merge of man and machine he was a very big man. He'd met up with Beastboy in Jump City a year or two before the Titans had formed, and they'd spent most of their time saving lives and stoppin' crooks. Small-time stuff, really. Nothing big until they'd met Robin and the Titans had formed.
The mechanized man stumbled down to the other side of the room, hoping to find another entrance in. Unfortunately, no such luck. He gave a tentative push against another block of iron barring his entrance but his internal sensors warned him before he pushed himself too far. No, this wasn't an option either.
It'd be so much easier of Beastboy was here. Or Starfire. But Cyborg was alone now. He didn't know where the other Titans had gone. They'd all felt the sting of loss when Robin had left. Starfire especially. He'd seen it. She'd floated off and he'd lost sight of her. She must've visited the Tower, though, her room had been picked clean, and Silkie was gone. Wherever she was now, however, Cyborg couldn't say. Nor Beastboy and Raven. They were pretty banged up after their ordeal. Physically and mentally. So had Cyborg, but nothing like what'd happened to them. He'd never seen Raven so... lost.
"Focus, Cy," he thought aloud. "Worry about your buddies later. If you don't get that power cell..."
... there won't be a later.
Cyborg finally found a weak point in the steel walls of his old home, and with great trepidation reared back his hand and slammed his fist hard against the side, using all the force he could muster. His power level dropped considerably, but to his relief he'd cleared aside a small hole. Slowly, he pushed aside the sides to widen the hole and nearly cried in joy as he finally made it large enough to step back inside of his broken room.
A cry of joy that quickly changed to a wail of anguish.
Everything was smashed. Everything was broken. His powercells was soaked in water and sparked slightly as his movements disturbed them, they'd be useless by now. And his recharger had a bar of iron slicing right through the center, a dull inert grey. He already knew what was coming, but hooked himself up to the main cord and tried to power it up. His hopes died then, as it stayed inert. And it didn't change no matter how much he pounded his fist against the 'on' button. No power.
"No..."
Power Cell Low. Three Percent Power Remaining. Suggest Recharge or Shutdown
An idea came to Cyborg. An idea born of desperation, but he tore open the machine with his bare hands, ignoring the scrapes he put on his already damaged hands and ripped it down to it's bare circuitry. There. He could see the machine was still working, Titan's Tower's generator (buried deep under the island) was still running, it just couldn't transmit power through his re-charger. Hastily, he went to work, improvising tools from his hands and using whatever scraps were around.
In the end, it wasn't pretty, but it worked.
The only question now was for how long. He wasn't re-charging, strictly speaking. He was being fed power directly from the generator, a long number of cords jammed roughly into his chest compartment. But the instant he broke contact now, he'd lose power and automatically shutdown. Essentially, he could continue on like this, but he'd never make it more than a few feet away from the wall. The tubes weren't long enough, and there were no replacements within reach.
He was trapped.
Cyborg sighed and sat down on a overturned crate, resting his arms on his knees as he hunched over, sighing softly. What was the point? His power supply was gone, his energy was low, his teammates had abandoned him. So the great mechanized teen sat, ankle deep in water, and waited. Waited for his power to fail and for his cell to die. Even the generator couldn't keep going indefinitely, and sooner or later it'd give out.
Waiting for his miserable existence to end.
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Many miles out at sea, far away from the city of Jump there was a small rocky island by the name of Blackrock. So aptly named because it was just that, a stretch of black semi-volcanic rocks that jutted out of the sea into a large formation. It had no real landmarks atop of it. The closest thing it had to a sign of human touch was a crudely drawn sentence in English that said for visitors not to harm a certain giant moth larva that had only recently returned to the island. Nobody bothered with it. It wasn't exactly a tourist trap. However, it lay within the border created by the darkshield, and thus nowadays it had a new inhabitant. Well, two really.
On the shore rested a peculiar moth larva, no longer the fearsome giant that the original sentence had mentioned. Now it was a harmless and overly cute pink and beige... thing. But even it seemed morose, sensing, no doubt, it's mistress' discomfort. Not that a casual observer could tell such was wrong.
To a casual observer (had one been present) seeing what was happening, they might likely be confused but not concerned. Starfire floated up and down along the face of one of the larger black rocks, cheerfully singing a Tamaranian song to herself as she blasted away at the rock with her starbolts, slicing away at it. Finally, nodding in satisfaction, she floated back to admire her handiwork.
"There!" she proclaimed in an overly cheerful voice. "Our home looks beautiful once again, does it not!" she asked aloud, though no one was present to hear but Silkie.
Starfire had drawn a great huge 'T' into the side of the rock, not unlike Titan's Tower.
A casual observer would thus be confused. A closer, more keen-eyed observer, however, might've noticed the unusual shine in Starfire's eyes. Might've noticed how her smile seemed perhaps a smidgen too wide, her gaze a tad too bright. An explanation would've been obvious. If it was not, then another bit of evidence would perhaps have been another rock a little ways away having been carved into a crudely drawn planet with the Tamaranian symbol for 'Tamaran' etched into it. Or the final bit of evidence, a number of small caves, barely big enough for an individual to fit inside placed along the top length of the 'T' shape. And in each one of them rested a puppet. Puppets made years ago by a demented magical toy called the Puppet King, who hoped to use them to control the Teen Titans. His plans had, predictably, backfired, but Starfire had elected to keep the toys in her room as keepsakes. The puppet of the Puppet King was in the evidence locker back at Titan's Tower, and by now no doubt deep underwater.
Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran had gone over the deep end.
Starfire smiled happily, giddy with joy. Her homes were both restored, and now even within less than a day's flight of one another. She could visit anytime she liked. And all her friends were back! She was as joyous as a newborn receiving a bucketful of sugar.
Finally she noticed the day was darkening (that strange glowing thingie (the darkshield) made day and night less distinct), and made her way into the tiny cave she'd made in the great rock, curling up inside of it after bidding Robin a good-night. Curious how he hadn't responded, but she'd see him in the morning, after all. At least everything was as it should be. So she curled up and slept, in her home with all of her friends.
Her home being a pile of rocks in the middle of the ocean, and her friends being wooden puppets.
Yup. Everything was as it should be.
And thus we come to the final two Teen Titans, who were, paradoxically, the most upset and the least affected by the events of the past few days. They had found themselves a quiet hiding spot in the woods just northwest of the city proper, where they could hide undisturbed from the world in general and from the minions of Tartarus. And even from the citizens of Jump, truth be told.
They couldn't bear to hear their cries for aid.
As it was said, Beastboy and Raven were at once the most upset and the least affected by the changes of the past few days. Raven was empty, she admitted this herself quite freely as they walked along through the forested landscape towards the very edge of the darkshield. She'd lost Anger, had it torn from her body by an outsider and with it a good chunk of herself, not just her magic. But in another sense she'd never felt so free. Without anger and her unpredictable power surges, she could finally, at long last... feel.
And she didn't know what to make of it. Everything was so new and strange to her. Raven had experienced emotions before, she wasn't as cold as that. But it was like a man with difficulty seeing anything but a blur with everything suddenly coming into sharp focus.
Beastboy was in a similar confused state. On one hand, he'd just lost his family, and he couldn't help but think back to the first time he'd lost someone close to him. The time when both of his parents had perished in a boating accident he felt he could've prevented if he'd been quick enough. But so far he hadn't said anything, hadn't offered one complaint, just grudging trudged alongside Raven in near-silence like a loyal dog. Which was unusual for Beastboy, since he was usually far more animated.
Suddenly, Raven pitched forward, her foot having caught on an upraised tree root, and she fell forward onto the ground in a heap, grunting in pain as she felt a sharp pain shoot up her leg. Beastboy, who'd wandered ahead, bounded back to her in an instant, helping her up. But another sharp pain convinced them that it wasn't a good idea, and Beastboy helped her into a seated position against the very tree that had tried to trip her.
"You alright?" he asked, gently inspecting her leg for injuries.
She nodded, not entirely sure how to respond to the question. After all, her entire life had been turned upside down in the past twenty-four hours and now, apparently, she'd gotten injured by a damn tree. And, even more frustrating, she couldn't get angry at it. Or anything. She was devoid of anger. Incapable of the sensation.
Beastboy gently tested her leg, sliding his gloved hand along the length to test for breaks in the bone. "Nothing feels broken..." he said, pausing when she hissed in pain. "You might've sprained your ankle though. Here, I'll carry you," he said, offering her a hand.
Reluctantly, she took it, her fingers brushing against, and then she blinked as a thought occurred to her.
"Where're we going?"
It seemed Beastboy hadn't considered that either, and he plopped down beside her, legs folded in on one another as he rested his head in his hands and gave a quiet moan. "I don't know," he finally replied. "I just don't know anymore."
Hesitantly, Raven reached out and gently folded her arms around Beastboy in what she sensed was a much-needed hug, gently cradling his head against her shoulder. There was nothing romantic or sensual about the gesture, just one friend giving another much needed comfort. Beastboy had given Raven the same sort of comfort when she'd had her heart broken, she could do no less for him.
But as she embraced him, she felt something.
Startled, Raven leaned back, her eyes wide with curiosity. Beastboy too, though his look was tinged with confusion by her suddenly drawing back.
"What's wrong?"
She took a long time before she responded to that. "... nothing. For once, nothing is wrong."
And that served to confuse Beastboy further.
"I can... I can feel," Raven elaborated, doing her best to explain. But how could she, how could anyone understand her when they hadn't lived through what she had their entire lives? "I can... I can experience emotion," she finally settled on. "There's no more danger, there's no more reason to hold myself ba-..."
Her voice caught in her throat as a sudden implication came to her.
And to be fair, she was a nineteen year old girl, half-demon or not. And victim to the same sorts of hormonal instincts and feelings that every young woman feels at one point or another in their life. But hers were tempered and shaped by feelings of the heart. Feelings she'd long tried to suppress for fear of endangering her friends and teammates. And especially Beastboy, who had so faithfully stayed by her side through thick and thin, who'd helped battle her inner demons (literally, in some cases) and stayed with her despite how deeply she had scared him. She'd suppressed her feelings, pushed them down so deep she hadn't even realized what they'd blossomed into until right now.
Hesitantly, Raven leaned forward again, and, with little hesitation, leaned forward to steal a kiss from the startled Beastboy, who just turned a rather interesting shade of green, tinged with a crimson.
A kiss. Her first.
"Raven... I..." Beastboy started to say, but she cut him off with another kiss, wanting to feel more, wanting to experience the joyous sensation of her lips against his, wanting to feel the warmth that filled her body as they embraced. Beastboy protested at first, of course. He was a flirt yes but also a gentleman (well, most of the time, the rest he was as roguish as they came), he'd never have take what wasn't freely offered unless she was absolutely sure. But then he relaxed into the kiss, and returned the embrace hesitantly, sliding his arms around Raven's shoulders. The pain in her ankle was all but gone (perhaps she'd just bruised it, instead of sprained it) but right now she didn't care.
She just wanted to feel.
Beastboy's pointed ears were twitching and his cheeks had gone from faint coloring to a full-blown blush as the two of them reluctantly broke the kiss, leaning back and looking at one another in newfound light. It was if they were looking at one another for the first time.
"Raven, I..." Beastboy started to say again. "I don't want to take advantage of you," he managed to stutter out. "I know you're not yourself, I would never..."
She cut him off again, but this time by pressing a finger against his lips to quietly shush him.
"You would never take advantage of me," she replied softly, drinking in his features, her lavender eyes wide and brimming with emotion. Gently, she leaned forward again, brushing her hand against his cheek. Sensations so new and alien to her, yet so wonderful...
"You're not yourself," he repeated, gently placing a hand on her arm to stop her.
... and she realized how she was acting. Like a child, almost, with a fancy new toy. So eager to play with it. Ashamed (and that too hit her full in the face for the first time) she dropped her hand back to her side. "I... I'm sorry Beastboy."
He change on a heartbeat as well, seeing how badly he'd upset her. "There's no need to be, I know you're not yourself after what happened. But we'll fix this."
"But I don't want to fix this," she said, trying to fill her voice with anger... but failed miserably. She could feel anything now... except that. Anger, hatred, jealousy, bitterness, all were denied to her. They'd been stolen away by Malchior's black magics. "And this is me! This is the real me, this is who I am this... this..."
And in that instance, he understood her. Probably no one else on Earth and very few in Azerath would understand Raven, but Beastboy understood her. And he could feel her pain as keenly as if it was his own. All his life Beastboy had tried to fix Raven's problem, to make her normal, to make her smile and laugh and be happy, and now he had the opportunity, and she was even offering encouragement.
So what was holding him back?
Beastboy gently drew Raven in close, pressing his forehead against hers in a surprisingly tender gesture. He could feel the hollow depression where her chakram had once rested.
"Are you sure?" he asked softly.
"In my entire life, I have never been more sure," she replied, her voice equally soft. "You remember what I told you about my mother?"
He did.
Two years ago, during a thunderstorm. Raven had been scared, Beastboy had been around. She'd opened up a little of her past to him, told him more about what had happened to her mother. How she'd been used, forced against her will by Trigon to birth his child. Raven herself.
"When I was told what happened to my mother, I swore I would never let it happen to me. That I would be the one to choose whom I would love. And... I..." she blushed faintly, still terribly shy. "I love you, Beastboy."
Their lips met at the same time, their bodies pressed against one another's as they gave simultaneous gasps and moans into one another's mouths. Two young people who'd been hurt and abused and broken, trying to chase away their inner pain and demons in the heat of the moment. Ah, to forget about yesterday, to forget about to tomorrow, to be totally in the here and now. That was what they both sought. They acted on instinct, letting their hormones guide them.
Raven slid off the top of Beastboy's spandex uniform, somehow managing to do it while letting only the briefest moment pass when his lips weren't joined to hers. And Beastboy reached in front of Raven and undid the clasp of her cloak, letting it fall to the ground beside them both.
Ah, to forget.
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Author's Notes:
Bridget Clancy ran the apartment where Dick Greyson lived in Bludhaven, so I moved her in the Teen Titan verse to Jump City with the same role. Most of the voices Robin heard came from previous Titan episodes, save the very beginning and end. The idea of Cyborg stuck to a generator comes, of course, from 'How Long is Forever' where his future counterpart suffered a similar fate. Starfire going over the deep end was partially inspired by her reaction during 'The Quest' and Raven's reaction during 'How Long is Forever.' While the fates of Robin, Cyborg and Starfire are as dark as they come, hopefully Raven and Beastboy's revelations helped keep this chapter from being overly dark. Now, no doubt, you can guess why I aged Beastboy (the youngest Titan, far as I can tell) to eighteen. There will be an omitted lemon chapter for those two. By request only, of course. Next time: The Titans are broken and beaten, but does a spark of hope yet exist for our young heroes?
Ray1: You are not the only one with that suspicion… which leads me to believe I wasn't as subtle perhaps as I'd wished I was. Ah well.
Toddfan: Everyone always underestimates the jokster of the team. And they always prove 'em wrong. Go Beastboy!
Blackbird: They were in a rush, but yes no doubt they'll come to regret that. As for Robin, well, you'll see soon enough. But it won't be easy for him… or any of the Titans.
TDG3RD: I try to be fair to the whole team, give no one more spotlight than another in any story I write, but glad you enjoyed Beastboy's latest act of heroism. As for Robin, yes he's going to have quite an interesting time now.
Anwen: Well I try not to.
Comet-hime: Glad the story has you so enthralled, Lady Comet. As for the clone, she's coming in at the end, no real impact on the story. So sorry.
Yomiori-Wolfdemon: No, you're not, and I am really tired of everyone guessing that. Arrrgh. All my plans ruined!
ViciousAssassin: What a mouthful. How Long is Forever was indeed a basis for my story. And yes, a key element of the episode was that the future is not written in stone. However, methinks some things are unavoidable. As you can see, some things are already different, like the Tower. As for Cyborg joining Titan's East… how? Darkshield, if you recall. The Titans have no where to go and no help to call on. Romance at the end, yes, but I inserted some here as well, as you can see. Is that enough to satisfy you for a few chapters?
Metal Dragon: I'm not a personal fan of Beastboy myself, but I do know he's got a knack for surprising people. I try not to follow the usual formula, but when I do, I try to toss in twists to keep the audience guessing. As for Robin, yes he's stubborn and thick-headed. However, that darkshield is a tough nut to crack… and it does extend under the ground, I mentioned that a few chapters back.
Gianluca DeDuonni: Yes, yes I did. I know it's all the rage these days, bringing back Malchior/Rorek/something like that. But as you yourself said, it fit. A powerful opponent for Raven. Tartarus is their dark side, they need powerful members. Jinx just didn't cut it.
Finn Mac Cool: While I considered such, no, they had no hand in it. It was unforeseen and now they're keeping Blackfire in the dark about it so she doesn't go on a rampage. As for the bomb, as you can see, not their true intent. They don't just want the Titans dead… they want them broken, physically and spiritually. Evil in the extreme. And yes, that line was her daddy's. Appropriate, don't you think?