Author's Notes: Okay, I know it's been forever since I updated this, and I apologize. The main reason for the long delay was school, and then when I finally had time to work on it again, the story wasn't flowing. As such, I'm not particularly happy with this next segment, but I'm also tired of re-writing it. C So it's getting posted. Hope it's all right with everyone!
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The group of young vigilantes stood, shocked and silent, at the sudden disappearance of their leader. The room was heavy with disbelief as the stunned spectators found themselves at a loss.
Victor was staring, wide-eyed, at the place where Robin had stood. He still clutched the device, his hands now trembling as he stood riveted, unable to break his gaze from the empty space before him.
Someone spoke. A soft voice, tinged with doubt and grief. Starfire's voice.
"Robin…"
And with that, the atmosphere shattered. Cyborg gave a tremendous yell of frustration and anger, surging forward on his older self. "What the hell did you do?"
Victor saw him coming, his haunted eyes shifting to the rage-filled face of his younger self. He did not move.
Cyborg smashed into Victor, slamming him against the wall and cuffing his neck with a metal fist. "What did you do to Robin?"
Suddenly Victor's mind was clouded again, fear and anger pushing their way forth in his emotions, just as they had when Robin had tried to take the device. "No!" Victor shouted, grasping at Cyborg's fist with his free hand and raising the device with the other. "No!"
"Cyborg!" Beast Boy yelled, bounding across the room, his form changing into that of a tiger in a smooth motion. Extended claws slashed at Victor's arm as the device was aimed at Cyborg's face and starting to glow again…
Beast Boy felt the impact of his own clawed hand against flesh, smelled the blood as it sprang forth from the wound, heard the hard pang of metal as he struck the device from its owner's grasp. It clattered to the floor, now scarred with three long claw marks and a spattering of crimson, the glow immediately dying.
Cyborg fell a few steps back at Beast Boy's sudden attack. Victor gave a cry of pain and literally crumpled in front of them, clutching the wounded arm tightly to his chest and curling into himself as he fell to his knees.
Unaffected, Cyborg was immediately at Victor's throat again, hauling the larger man halfway to his feet. Victor hung limply, almost sobbing, as the Titan shook him forcibly.
"What did you do to Robin?!?"
Raven was suddenly across the room, yanking her hood down and glaring angrily at Cyborg. "Stop it!" she hissed, looking about ready to throttle the enraged teen herself. Emotions were running high and rampant, and she wasn't coping well with having to feel the strong effects. "His condition is already unstable, and you're making it worse! You're not going to get anything out of him that way."
For a moment, Cyborg looked as though he were debating the idea of flinging Raven halfway across the room. Instead, he gave a disgusted snort and dropped his older counterpart. Victor hit the ground on his knees and folded over, arms clinging into his chest, his head nearly touching the floor.
All was silent again, save for Cyborg's heavy, angered breathing and Victor's muted sobs.
Raven knelt beside the man's nearly prone figure, her face and eyes hard with emotion. She stretched out a hand and placed three fingers on his forehead, murmuring. Her eyelids fell closed as a barely discernible aura of black sparked beneath her hand.
Victor whimpered and his shoulders slumped farther forward.
Raven remained motionless, but her murmuring became audible. "…control it, Victor…you need to get past this…this isn't who you are…"
Whimpering.
"…then tell me who…"
Silence.
"…find it…"
Sobbing.
"…find it…"
Cyborg was standing, ignoring his surroundings, his human eye glaring away into space as he breathed heavily, angrily.
Starfire didn't seem to have the strength to hover anymore as she stood where Robin had disappeared, her knees looking to collapse, a painfully forlorn look etched on her face.
Beast Boy crouched, one arm extended slightly, spattered lightly with red. His free hand held it near the elbow, as though it pained him somehow. His wide eyes darted nervously from Raven, to Cyborg, to Starfire, to the cold device on the floor.
Terra stood behind them all, blue eyes seeing, and disbelieving.
Raven murmured.
Victor choked on a sob.
Raven stiffened with a subtle movement, her violet eyes opening halfway and the white behind them dying as she pulled her fingers away from the larger man's forehead, the black aura between them swiftly dissipating. And it was in the next instant that Victor slumped forward, a breathy gasp escaping his throat as he hit the harsh floor in a dead weight.
Beast Boy's and Terra's eyes widened simultaneously.
Raven was suddenly on her feet and step backward from the prone body. Her cloak shifted once, as though her body shivered underneath, and she took a deep breath.
Terra extended a hand, hesitant. "Rae…?"
"He's dead." A cold blank snapped back into Raven's demeanor, and any evidence of her close proximity to the man's moment of death was gone.
"What?" Beast Boy gripped his arm tighter.
Cyborg was immediately on top of Raven. "No! We need him! We need to know what he did to Robin!"
The dark-haired girl glared up at him narrowly. "We wouldn't have gotten anywhere. He was mentally unstable. Even when I probed his mind, I couldn't help him focus his thoughts."
A pair of green eyes slowly turned in their direction as Starfire pulled her gaze away from where Robin had disappeared. "Nightwing…now Robin…and future Cyborg…"
"Why…how could he…just…die?" Beast Boy's voice sounded almost shaky. He glanced down at the reddish stain that had seeped into Victor's sleeve, at the crimson droplets that clung to the metal of the device, at the same spattered liquid that covered part of his hand.
Raven gave him a look, and behind the ever-solid emotionless mask was something…comfort? "It had nothing to do with what you did, Beast Boy," she answered calmly.
After a moment, he nodded, mute.
"No, no, no, no, NO!" Cyborg let forth a cry of frustration and slammed a metal fist at the nearest wall. He took no satisfaction in the resulting noise. "We need to know what he did!"
"Raven?" Starfire's voice sounded timid in comparison to Cyborg's shouting, and she still seemed distracted, glancing continuously back to the place where Robin had stood. "Perhaps you learned something when you entered his mind…?"
The dark haired girl shook her head. "Nothing."
Terra crossed to where the device lay on the ground. She knelt beside it, grasping the smooth metal surface gently with long, thin fingers. Glancing up, she surveyed her teammates. "If we can't find out how it works, then we'll have to figure it out for ourselves…"
Cyborg glanced at her, a strange look in his eyes. He moved to stand beside her, and practically snatched the device from her hands. "Figure out how to work it? Even if we could, it's already broken!" He gestured furiously at the long gouge marks in the metal from Beast Boy's attack.
The green-skinned boy's brow furrowed and he grimaced, showing fangs. "He was about to zap you with it!" He glared at Cyborg, angered by the accusation. "What was I supposed to do? Let him disintegrate you like he did Robin?"
"At least then it would still be in one piece, and we'd have a chance of getting him back!" Cyborg retorted, disregarding logic.
"Enough!" Raven's eyes burned white as she glared in the larger teen's direction. "The fact of the matter is, Robin is gone and we need to get him back. We have the device, and even if it's not operational right now, we can find out how to fix it." The light faded from her eyes and she surveyed the room, addressing the remaining teens with a low, commanding tone. "In the past twelve hours, we've found the future persons of both Robin and Cyborg. Now both are dead, and our Robin is missing. Events are moving quickly, and where time travel is involved, there's no telling how much of it we have left until something else happens. Time itself as become an adversary—and it's something we can't afford to waste." She focused her eyes on Cyborg. "Right now, Cyborg, you're the closest link we have to figuring this out. You're the best with machines, and apparently it was your future self who invented this device. If anyone can figure out how to fix it, you can."
For a long moment, he was silent, looking back at her, silently fighting to control the anger that boiled within him, knowing she was right. Finally he looked back down at the device, gripping it tighter in his metal fist. "Yeah…" he strode stiffly towards the doorway. "I'm on it."
The four remaining titans watched as the door slid closed behind him. Starfire glanced around, seeming nervous. "Will he not require assistance in analyzing the device?"
Raven took a slow breath, replying softly, "It's probably best to let him work alone right now. When he needs us, he'll tell us."
Beast Boy blinked, his gaze shifting to the still, prone form of Victor. "What should we do…about him?"
Instead of responding to the smaller boy, Raven directed her gaze and her answer to Terra, focusing purposefully on the blonde. "We give him a proper burial."
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Late into the evening, Cyborg's anger had given way to frustration. He sat in one of his computer labs, staring at the large screen, eyeing the device from time to time and all the cords and plugs that connected it to his computer.
It hadn't been nearly as hard to decode the device as he'd initially thought it would be. In fact, he'd come quite long ways to understanding the device and its workings in only a few short hours. It was, in short, a time-warp machine, hardly surprising under the circumstances, and he'd been able to isolate and confirm several temporal equations. At the moment, however, he found himself stuck on one particular problem, although it was not the analysis that was really bothering him.
He was still angry about what had happened earlier. It had been his future self, after all, that had attacked Robin. And then, he'd managed to get himself into the same situation, forcing Beast Boy to attack and ultimately damage the very device that they needed to remedy the entire situation. Cyborg wondered absently if the damage done to the machine was causing the information and equations he'd figured out to be incorrect. He glanced at the deep gashes in the metal, more frustration rising. He decided not to think about it.
He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see Raven standing nearby, looking serious.
"What?" he asked, the word coming out a little sharper than he intended.
"You need to calm down, Cyborg," Raven stated bluntly.
"I am calm!" he snapped defensively, not in the mood to hear a lecture about controlling his emotions.
"It's not your fault."
For a moment Cyborg was silent. Then he turned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You feel responsible because it was your older self who caused this. And therefore you're associating yourself with the actions of a person that you believe you will become, and drawing the blame. You hate him and what he did, and in so doing, you hate yourself."
"Oh, thanks Raven, I'm glad I have you to write the textbooks on it for me, so I can understand it better."
"He was not you, and you are not him. If there's anything I've learned about so-called 'destiny', it's that I choose who I am." Raven gaze was direct, but not glaring. "With the demon living inside of me, I have no choice but to control who I am, and who I will be. I have known all my life the possibility of what I have the potential to become, but I also know that I have the power to change that. To change myself." She breathed. "Everyone has that ability, Cyborg, but few of us know the possibilities of our futures. You have just been granted that knowledge."
He turned slightly, looking up at her, silent.
"That knowledge is not a curse. It's not something that has been thrown to you by an inevitable fate to make you feel miserable and hateful. It is an advantage. Don't treat it as something that condemns you to become someone that you don't want to become. Use it. Embrace it. Understand it. And then…change it."
Cyborg drew a deep breath. He exhaled slowly, lifting a hand to his head and letting his eyes slide closed in exhausted defeat. "You're right," he admitted softly, heavily. For a long moment, the two dark figures remained suspended in silence, until Cyborg regained his calm and gave a half smile. "Thanks, Rae."
"Don't mention it," she turned to leave.
"And thanks for coming all the way down here to…cheer me up."
Her retreating figure moved towards the kitchen. "I didn't come down here just to cheer you up. I came to get some tea before I go to bed, and your unstable emotions were disturbing my frame of mind."
Cyborg rolled an eye and turned back to the computer, trying to remember that he was grateful. He knew that Raven meant well, even if she did have a funny way of showing it.
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Terra shifted in her bed to lie on her side, slightly inclining her head so as to catch a glimpse of the clock on her dresser. She let out a soft groan as she saw the time—almost 2am. She'd been trying to sleep for over three hours now, but it just wasn't happening.
She always had trouble sleeping when something was bothering her. It was annoying—she just wished she could sleep for a few hours and forget all about the problem. It was bad enough something had to eat away at her all during the day, why did it have to keep her awake at night too?
With a soft frustrated sigh, Terra rolled out of bed and onto her knees, rubbing at bleary eyes. Lifting a hand, she groped for the lamp near her bedside and switched it on, blinking in the sudden light. She sat on the floor, her back leaning against the bed, head tilted back onto the mattress, thinking.
She and Raven had buried Victor earlier. It had been simple, of course, especially with her abilities, but for some reason it had left her feeling uneasy. They had decided not to mark the grave.
Her thoughts turned to the other titans. Beast Boy and Starfire had watched the burial, including their presences not so much to show respect, but as to not show disrespect. Cyborg had remained in the tower, of course, working continuously on the device. He was probably still working, even now.
She felt like such an outsider. But then, wasn't she supposed to? She wasn't on this team to be a part of it—that part of her function had always been perfectly clear. So why did she feel so nervous about what had happened? Was she having doubts? Or was she just letting foolish hopes get in the way of her assignment?
Terra closed her eyes again, already bored of staring at the same spot on the ceiling. Slade had already given her so much—all of what he'd promised, and more. She owed him this much at least, didn't she?
And now there was the problem that was keeping her awake. Robin had disappeared—definitely not part of the plan. How was she supposed to keep an eye on him if he wasn't here? What if he never made it back? Even worse, what if he did, and something like this were to happen again? The thought had never even crossed her mind when she accepted the orders Slade had given her. Keep an eye on Robin, make sure he didn't get hurt. Simple enough, until accidents such as this were taken into account.
Today, she hadn't done anything about it. She hadn't been able to—none of them had. But it put her objective into a new light—what if Robin ever did get into a life-threatening situation? Just what exactly was she expected to do in order to keep him from getting hurt?
Shifting from her position beside the bed, Terra got down on hands and knees and reached under the headboard, pushing a shoebox out of the way and latching onto the battered shoulder bag that she knew was there. Dragging it from its hiding spot, she shook it free of dust and unlatched one of the side pockets.
There it was, just where she always kept it. A small communication device, not unlike the ones the Titans used. Only instead of being yellow and black with a large 'T' on the front, this one was a little smaller, more square, and marked with an 'S'.
Terra ran a hand over the communicator lightly, turning it and watching as the dim light from her lamp made different reflection patterns on the shiny metal surface. Should she tell him? He'd given it to her and instructed that it only be used in an emergency. This wasn't so much an emergency as it was an extremely unexpected turn of events.
Sighing, she placed the communicator back in the bag and shoved the whole thing under the bed again, making sure to place the shoebox and other various items in front of it. Robin's disappearance was bound to be something he wouldn't want to hear. She also didn't know enough about what was going on to be able to offer any kind of decent explanation to him. And besides, it was two in the morning. Satisfied with her excuses, Terra resolved to tell him later.
But she still wasn't going to be able to sleep. Getting to her feet, Terra shoved them into some slippers and crossed the room to pull her bathrobe out of the closet. Putting it on, she moved to the door with the intention of heading down to the kitchen. Maybe if she ate something, or got some hot chocolate, she'd be able to sleep.
As she moved down the hallways that were still a little unfamiliar sometimes, especially at night, she saw a light coming from under one of the doors. One of the computer labs, to be precise. Just as she'd thought—Cyborg was still working.
Terra halted at the doorway, uncertain, looking in through the opening at the flickering shadows that outlined the large teen's frame.
He glanced up, tired recognition lighting his expression slowly. "Oh, hey Terra."
"Hi," she said, surprised to see that his foul mood had turned. Emboldened by his calmness, she crossed the room to stand beside him as he turned his attention back to the screen. Looking at his face, it was easy to see how tired and haggard he was, even in the dim lighting. The human side of his face was positively drooping, and the flesh around the eye was puffy. "You know, you should probably get some sleep. You look awful." Terra never had been good at subtlety. She was usually too forward and blunt for her own good.
Cyborg heaved a sigh and blinked his human eye blearily. "I know, I know…but I'm a lot closer to figuring this out than I thought I would be. Look, I've even managed to identify the proper time signatures." He didn't seem to notice that Terra looked almost as sleep-deprived as he did.
Curious, Terra leaned closer to the screen to see what he was pointing at, forgetting that she had just told him to quit working and go to bed. And maybe if she focused on something, she wouldn't remember how tired she was.
Cyborg was indicating two different patterns that looked likes a series of lines, connected and broken, crisscrossing in some places, or running parallel in others. Both patterns looked like nothing more than big scribbles at first, but as she inspected it further, Terra could see that the two sets of lines were different.
"See, this time signature is us," Cyborg tapped the pattern on the right side of the screen, "And this other one is the older me."
"Time signature?" Terra repeated.
"It's kind of like a fingerprint, showing which timeline you come from. If that makes any sense." Cyborg tried to explain as he began typing more commands into the computer. "You know how there are all these theories on alternate time lines and parallel universes?" Without waiting for her response, he continued. "Well, the term 'parallel universe' is just a fancy name for an alternate timeline. See, we make choices everyday, like what time to get up, what route to take to work, and all that. One choice leads to one set of events, which lead to more choices. The basic theory behind parallel universes is that in one timeline, you make a choice to go the movies on Thursday night, while in the other universe, you decide to stay home and play video games on the same night instead. So the events that happen are different, which just goes to say that the timeline is different."
Terra had never been the intellectual type. She would rather do something than sit and think about it, and she'd never paid attention to scientific things, much less the complex theories that Cyborg was delving into. But so far he was using simple parallels for explanations, and she was able to follow what he was saying to a certain extent. "So," she ventured, "Our other Cyborg is from a different timeline."
"Yeah, but he not only came from a different timeline, he came from a different time completely. He's from the future of a parallel universe."
"This time signature shows what time and place he's from, then," Terra replied.
"Yeah. That's another thing that's weird about these. They're always changing a little bit. As you make the choices, you follow a certain timeline. And the different choices lead to different timelines, so as you choose which timeline you're following, the time signature changes to show exactly where and when you are."
Suddenly Terra thought she understood. "It a record of your history. Your time signature shows where you've been, and when. But it's always changing because you're still moving through time."
"That's right," Cyborg glanced at her quickly, slightly surprised. "You catch on quick." Turning back to the computer, he continued. "Although, there are basic structures in the time signature that will remain the same, because some timelines start out the same way, until the split off when different choices are made." To prove his point, he indicated a point in one of the time signatures on the screen that was exactly the same on the other. Three lines merged together at the same point, as another crossed between them diagonally. "See, these two parts in the print are exactly the same because there was a time when that older Cyborg was in the exact same time and place as I was. In other words, he and I followed the exact same choices. But the prints are different now, because and some point in his life, he made a decision that I didn't, or vice versa, and eventually we wound up living in different timelines, even though we're the same person."
"So wait, the time signature must indicate who you are, too, since different people are faced with different choices?" Terra asked.
"Well, kind of," Cyborg replied. "Although there's no biological data in a time signature, so you can't really tell who the person is. It basically just shows the timeline that the person followed, with some unique patterns to indicate what choices you've made. But even though different people make different choices, they are sometimes led to the same timeline. And of course, people's choices will affect others and pull them into the same time universe."
Now it was getting a little more confusing than Terra would have liked it to, especially at two in the morning. "But that would mean there's one universe for each choice presented to each person who has ever existed."
Cyborg nodded. "That's how the theories go. An infinite number wouldn't be big enough to hold all the potential parallels and timelines that supposedly exist." His face suddenly became a little sheepish. "But I'm kind of skipping over all that stuff, and just focusing on these two timelines."
Terra just nodded, trying to let all the information sink in.
Cyborg was tapping at the screen again, indicating the time signature of his older self. "I'll bet if we were to test Nightwing's body, it would have basically the same time signature as this."
"Even though he's dead?" Terra's eyebrow shot up, skepticism in her voice.
Shrugging, Cyborg responded. "Time leaves its mark, dead or alive. It's called aging."
"Then inanimate objects have the time signatures things, too, even though they don't make choices?"
"Their time signatures are based on the choices made around them, and which universe they are pulled into. And the signature will keep changing, because even a dead body or an inanimate object will continue to age and decay as time goes on."
It was interesting, if more than a bit mind-boggling, but Terra felt she had enough of a grasp on the subject understand what he was doing. "So you have all this information on where and when he came from, and where and when we are now," she said. "What do you do with it?"
"I want to be able to trace the path one of those wormholes took," the larger teen answered. "Because our priority right now is to find Robin. I was hoping that once I was able to isolate and interpret these time signatures, I'd know what to look for in the path going from one to another."
Terra narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to comprehend.
"Like you said," Cyborg continued, explaining quickly, "The individual lines and patterns in the time signature show where and when you've been. The whole signature together is like a point on a map, showing exactly where and when you are, you know, which timeline you're currently following. Our point in the timelines and multiple universes is here, in our signature. The other Cyborg's point in the timelines is there, in his signature. The route that he took to get from his point to ours was the rift, the wormhole that he made with that device."
"You're trying to track a path through time a space," Terra realized, a hint of incredulity in her voice.
"The wormhole is the path," Cyborg nodded once, "It's not hard to open—we already have the device to do that. The trick is to be able to control the path when it opens. I don't know which way it went when it hit Robin. We know that he left from our point in time and space, but we don't know where he ended up. I wanted to isolate these time signatures so that I would know what I'm looking for, so that I can recognize the time signature that Robin ended up in if I can find it."
"And if you do find it?" Terra prompted.
"Then I can use it to program a path from here to there. If I have both the starting and ending points, I can tell the wormhole which way to go. Which means we'll be able to follow Robin to wherever he went and bring him back safely."
"I hope so," Terra said softly, her intent genuine, even if it was for ulterior motives.
Cyborg glanced up at her, seeing the highlights in her face and hair from the monitor's weak glow. He gave a small smile. "I hope so, too."
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The basement of Ms. Malcolm's home, where Nightwing's body had been discovered, was empty, having been cleared out long since by the police department and hospital workers. It had taken a little over a full day for the body and all shreds of evidence to be discovered and removed, and of course it had needed to be cleaned afterward.
Now, however, it was deserted, along with the house under which it rested. Finding a dead body in their own home would be enough to unsettle just about anyone, and the unfortunate Ms. Malcolm had been no exception. Thoroughly frightened and traumatized by the experience, the elderly woman had left her residence with the intention of not returning for at least a week.
It was quite a good thing that she had done so, although she would never have a chance to see or understand why. Unknown to anyone, something was happening in the very same room where the dead body had been found.
In the center of the basement—in midair, to be exact—a light began to flicker. It had no source, as the electric lights were not functioning and the daylight had long since passed away into night. But nonetheless, a light was flickering, pale and sickly in its purple hue, somehow seeming bright and faint at the same time. It sprang to life in an instant, only to die away in the next. Then it would come again, in a slightly different place than before, and sometimes more than one light would erupt at once. It was much like a miniature, silent display of purple lighting bolts, erratic and exquisite.
Alone in their deserted existence, the strange lights continued to flicker.
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