Chaper Eight - Homeward Bound
The T-Jet screamed across the night.
For Beast Boy, the past eighteen hours felt more like a week. So much had happened. So much had changed.
The other assassins were never found. Apparently, the group had a nifty talent for fading into the night, even with the FBI and the ATF on their tails. The agencies had requested that the Titans not pursue. Jurisdiction is such a sore spot with those guys.
Buckled into his seat, he scratched his mended ribs. He felt the jet bank into a gentle turn. A soft face rolled onto his arm as the jet descended towards home. Her hair was still damp from the rain. Good to see her sleeping so peacefully. No nightmares allowed tonight.
She was in her blue dress again. The buckskin had been drenched in blood from both of them. She had foregone the leg-encasing boots; her bare legs were tucked underneath her. His own uniform was ready for the circular file. Luckily he had had a secret stash of civilian clothes on the jet. Too bad healing doesn't include uniforms. That thing is in shreds. I get to pull out the old sewing machine tomorrow.
He wondered if those missing assassins knew exactly what they had taken when they had stolen Thunder Horse's kit. And if they knew how to use it. He rested a protective hand on her hip, the one he knew to be sore. He stroked it softly with the tips of his fingers. Her breath was soft on his arm.
He looked again at the paper in his hand and studied the RX in the corner. She had let him read the final note from Thunder Horse before she had drifted off to sleep:
Dawn Child –Come and visit us sometime. My wife would love to meet you. Don't worry about the buckskin. We will make another for you.
C27 is still out there. I don't have to tell you what that means. Watch your back. Don't leave home without your cloak.
As for the other item we discussed. Here is my prescription:
Watch one hundred funny movies. Not alone. I expect a full report on what you watched when I see you. Your green friend can help you pick them out.
Welcome to the Family.
CTH.
He smiled and wondered how she felt about that. His help.
Thunder Horse had had one sentence for him: "Go slow with this one."
An empath? Yep, I guess so.
He overheard Cassie explaining Compound 27 to Conner. The drug was both a blessing and a curse.
"Raven, cool!" he yelled. "You have your own personal kryptonite!"
"Shhhhhh . . . ." Gar whispered. "The Dream Police are finally taking the night off. Let her sleep."