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Deeper - Chapter Six – Body and Soul

"Wake up."

Cold, wet grit against her calves. Her hands. Her face. Fuzzy darkness tinged with magenta behind stone-heavy eyelids. Every breath was a chore. Damp crawled across her back, her breasts, her thighs, and her hair.

"Raven. Raven." A voice was trying to penetrate the darkness. A wet nose nuzzled her forehead. She pushed it away.

"Krypto --" she muttered.

"Wake up. Raven, wake up," the intruder insisted.

Her left eye peeled open to reveal a world of blur. She gasped and pulled back, her hands searching for sheets to pull over her. She found none. Instead, she found a terrier.

A green terrier.

"What?"

"Shhhh . . . it's just me. You've been out of it for a while. Rest a minute. But not long – we're in trouble. What do you remember?"

"Ummmmm . . . flying . . . water . . . dark . . ." She shook her head. This was worse than groggy. This was empty. She searched the air with her fingers, sensing . . . nothing.

"Did they get you again?" He sat up and waved one emerald paw in front of him. "Quick – how many feelings am I holding up?"

Her eyes crossed, then closed. She rubbed her chin with the back her hand. This sickening feeling, the one that sometimes haunted her dreams, was familiar. "None. They did indeed get me."

"Ok, so the escape pod is out of commish. We can't just jump home."

She pressed her fingers into her forehead. She didn't even know where she was, let alone know how to navigate out of here. She concentrated harder so she could examine exactly where they were. White metal walls curved over them. Circular doors enclosed each side. She was draped across a hard metal bench that was sprinkled with dirty sand; the silica clung to her damp dress. Or what was left of it, anyway.

"The doors are sealed," Beast Boy said. "I've already checked them out. This place is airtight. I couldn't get out of here as an ant!"

She rubbed the underside of her aching ear. Something tugged at the back of her mind, but she wasn't sure what. Something was terribly, terribly wrong here.

More of the chamber was coming into focus. Gauges lined the wall next to the heavy door, which had a wheel in its middle. A rack of face masks occupied the opposite wall. The air had a metallic undercurrent flowing through it.

What is this place?

The something tugging at the back of her mind took on a face. And it had Bart's face.

Kid Flash. Of all people . . .

She struggled to sit up. Gar shifted into an orangutan to assist her.

"What are those gauges measuring?"

"They said something about pounds per square inch. Another talked about atmospheres, whatever that means."

"Air pressure. Oh, Azar."

"What do you mean?"

"Something Bart was trying to get me to think about. Limits on my ability travel."

"And?"

"The hypothetical question of where I could not escape from is no longer hypothetical. I cannot simply leave. And we can't just walk out that door, even if it were not locked. And I am sure it is. That is why no one is here to watch us. We cannot leave."

"Raven, you've got to be more clear on that. That makes no sense."

"We're in a hyperbaric chamber, my friend. I've seen the one at S.T.A.R. labs before, but I never gave it much thought until now. We are breathing pressurized air."

"Like we're SCUBA diving?"

"Yes. I think someone has found the only way to keep me under lock and key. Once this drug in my system wears off, anyway. If we leave now-- "

"We could get the bends. Or worse. That's weird. We're not even under water! I don't think so, anyway."

She felt crimson anger creeping into the margins of her vision. She clenched her hand into a fist. "Why do I get the feeling history is trying to repeat itself? Were we not being pursued by these same people this time last month? That almost ended badly."

"Yes. It had potential to be bad. Very bad." He scratched his ribs as he stared at her fist.

"Garfield, they are not doing this again." Her head was starting to clear, but she was still a little lightheaded. Thank Azar we figured out where we were before this drug wore off. "But we cannot leave the usual way."

"So the Rave express is out of order, eh?"

"Indeed. It is time for Plan B."

"Plan B?"

"Something Bart tried to tell me." She stood on wobbly legs, reaching out to the bench to steady herself. She padded over to the gauges that were measuring their life support. Her eyes traveled over the numbers, committing them to memory. She tapped her fingers against her lips and once again felt the damp fabric of her ruined dress clinging to her. She shivered from the chill it created. I could use that hot chocolate right now, she mused. She shook her head. Why is that I always have these strange thoughts when I am in danger? I had better focus on the problem at hand. What is it Cyborg is always saying – work the problem?

"What did he say . . . what did he say . . . " she muttered to herself. She chewed on her thumbnail as her brain nibbled away at the situation. Something else deep inside that same brain began to stir from a long slumber as her mind began to whirl.

The emerald orangutan shifted into a parrot and flew across the room to land on her shoulder. "Well, what did he say?"

"Like place to like place. We can still travel. We just have to make sure that our destination is the same pressure as where we started. Then we can worry about getting out of there." That strange something began to worm its way out of its nesting place.

"Ummmm . . . I hate to tell you this, sweetie, but I don't know of any other place that we can go to that's this pressure."

"Of course you do." I thought the drug was wearing off . . . The worm was crawling down her spine and into her chest. She shivered again as she tried to fight it off. "The chamber at S.T.A.R. We just have to tell them how to set it up."

"But how are we . . . no, no, hell no, don't tell me you're thinking what I think you're thinking. You're still weak. What if your soulself can't find its way back to us?"

"I was able to last time." She pressed her fingertips into her breastbone. A pressure was building up in her throat and her lungs. What is wrong with me? I've got to get out of here before I ... "I am willing to take that chance. If I know where I am going, I may be able to move us out of here, even with the drug in me. I am not as disoriented as last time."

"Unfortunately, I don't have any better ideas. Nobody's here now, but I don't want to stick around for anyone else to join our little party."

A hiccup rumbled in her chest. Something was trying to break out. Something new. Something big. Her fist unclenched. She pushed the heel of her palm into her thigh to stop it.

"Just watch over me, Gar," she replied to the parrot. "You know that I am weaker when I'm separated."

The bird raised his feathers in a salute. "Always a pleasure to watch you, ma'am."

She lowered her eyebrows at him. "I'll still be conscious, you know."

He squawked and rested his beak against her cheek. "You can trust me. Really."

She tapped his head with her finger. "Of course I can. But I have to go now."

She felt the bonds between body and soul loosen and dissolve. A soft white glow flowed through the chamber; her soul was white again. A bright echo of herself stepped away from her body and passed through the top of the chamber. "Take care of me," it sang as it lifted away from them.

Her body leaned forward and caught itself by pressing its palm against the door of their tiny prison. Another hiccup shook her body.

"Raven?" the parrot asked, flying off her shoulder to look at her face. The light through the porthole darkened across her temples. They were no longer alone.

She felt so drained. The filters in her mind that kept her feelings inside had slipped away with her soul. The last vestiges of control were gone. That mysterious worm in her chest decided that now was the time to escape. And from deep within her erupted shrieks of --

The light ascended through the ceiling of the chamber and into the wider room beyond. It was some sort of laboratory, but she could not linger to study its details. Her body was once again suffering some sort of indignity inflicted upon it by outside sources, although she was not entirely sure that it was Compound 27 causing the problem. She did not remember it making her feel so giddy.

She moved up and through two other floors of the building and cleared the roof of the structure. Hard white stars shone overhead, and the full moon was low on the horizon. Think, girl, think. If this is the same night, then that is west. And dawn is coming soon.

Points of origin were so vital. She needed to know where they were, so she rose ever higher and higher into the air for a raven's-eye view of the area. How far could he have taken two unconscious people in that time? Or three, if he took his fallen associate? Did he have air support? Or did he move us on the ground?

The building turned out to be a four-story complex set far back on a stony beach; the waves of the sea gleamed beneath the moon. A mountain range rose behind it. Still on the west coast, then. If this were New York, I would not have a problem. I still do not know the lay of the land here.

How to find where I am? Think . . . think . . . and what is going on with the rest of me? The drug wove a veil between her two halves . . . but something in her was shrieking with --

Laughter.

Of all the times he had tried to make her laugh, he had never expected that she would think of something as serious as this funny. She hugged her sides as if she were trying to contain it. She failed.

The shadow at the porthole was even less comical.

Beast Boy shifted himself into a tiger and stood between her and the door. He rose up on his hind legs and growled at the shadow. It didn't matter that he might not be heard – Gar was angry. Angry at being trapped like this again. He could understand why Raven was clenching her fists. Vulnerability sucks. What he couldn't understand was why she was acting like she'd just polished off three martinis.

He could feel her behind him, trying to stifle a horrible attack of the giggles. He tried to ignore that very strange sound and focus on the outline of a darkly veiled face.

Am I north or south of San Francisco? For as often as I look at the stars, I should be able to tell . . . would that someone send me a sign . . .

An asphalt ribbon hugged the coastline below. Wait. Road. Roads mean . . .

She dove down to the earth below, thankful that her soulself did not feel the chill of the wind. My body is cold enough for both of us. And there, reflecting the silver disk in the sky was the very sign she had asked for. Thank the Great Spirit. Thank Azar. Whoever is listening, thank you, thank you. I am in –-

"Big Sur," Raven was muttering over his shoulder amongst her giggles. "We're in Big Sur. Where do I go from here?"

I really hope he can't hear me, Gar thought. Without turning his face away from the door, he replied, "Go North, baby, go north. Just follow the coastline to the tower! And make it quick – we have company."

Did he say go north? She marked the location of the building in her mind, burning the picture into her. Then, keeping the sea to her left, she roared through the sky, back to the tower, back to Victor, back, back, back . . .

Give him an eyepatch and he might be Deathstroke's cousin. There was something else haunting about him, but he wasn't sure what it was. But his soul was etched in his shadow. Proud. Determined. And wanting.

And scary as hell.

"You okay back there?"

A voice crawled over the speaker. "She's not the one with something to worry about. Not yet, anyway."

I thought these guys couldn't talk, Gar thought, his mind rewinding back to their original information on Black Rose. Maybe he's the one . . . the leader. The very one that hurt me. Hurt us.

The growling in his throat froze. Her friend wasn't moving.

"Beast Boy?" she called out.

"He cannot hear you," the man sneered. "He's dreaming. He's food. Food for people like us."

She staggered to the tiger and slapped her palm against the window. "What do you want with us?"

"Not him. Just you. I just want you. I need fresh blood. New spirit. The rest of my little tribe is gone. Dead by their own stupidity. I need more. More like me." He pressed his palm to the window, as if to reach through to her. "More like you."

She jerked her hand back – it was like brushing a steaming tailpipe.

I cannot feel him on my own, she thought. He is pushing onto me.

"Do you want to attack me again? Make me afraid again?" Fingers of energy were dancing across the leading edge of her brain, seeking a way in. But they were not finding it. "What this time? You've already tried driving us into the ground. What? My father? He's dead. He's gone. Sebastian? The boy half my age that wants to mate with me?" She howled with laughter at him. "Don't even try it. He's nothing compared to not being able to feel . . . not being able to live. Nothing compared to feeling like you're beyond saving." She didn't know why her whole past suddenly seemed so . . . absurd. Like it should never have happened. She choked out the rest with a gravelly voice. "It's nothing compared to feeling like the universe is going to self-destruct just because you're having a bad hair day."

Why am I talking like this?

He raked his fingernails across the glass. "I, too, am beyond saving. But I don't feel like I need to be saved. I just need you, little sister. I need others that feed like me. I need my tribe."

Faster and faster flew the light, rising higher and higher to feel ahead. Victor, dear friend, help me find you. Help me get home.

Sand and surf and stone below. The East was growing less dark as the moon sank into the sea.

The tower gleamed ahead, a bright tall "T" against the sky. Was Cyborg there? Please, someone be there . . .if he is out looking for us, I will have to reach out for his mind . . .

She sailed through the steel and glass of the exterior, finding the command center. No Cyborg here. Kid Flash was there, though, leaning on his elbow, fast asleep at the console. Victor must have called him in when we disappeared; it would take him no time to get here.

"Bart, awaken!" She heard her own ethereal voice vibrating through the room.

"Gaaaaah!" He started awake, shrinking back for a moment before he recognized her.

"Where are you guys? Cyborg is out looking –"

"We've been taken. Time for your Plan B, Bart."

"Tribe?" She pressed her hand into the tiger's paw, squeezing it in her fingers to wake him up. "Why me?" I cannot get his signature . . . I cannot see his face . . . who is he?

"I brought you here to this place so you could hear me out before you ran from me again. We are two of a certain kind. I once knew all the feelings in the world, just like you. But they were shut off. Stripped from me. Only one thing could get through: fear. Without feeling, I began to starve from the inside out. Only fear could penetrate the mist in my heart. I could taste only it."

"What –"

"A drug. Like the one coursing through you now, only more powerful. Someone tried . . . tried to help me with it once." He leaned into the door and pushed his forehead into the glass. "But it was far stronger than that someone thought. If I give you enough of what I have taken, it will make you like me . . . like my own child."

"Don't," she said, her word punctuated by short rippled breaths. "I have had enough of that for a lifetime. Twenty lifetimes."

"Be like me. When I can't find the fear, I have to make it. I have to reach into minds and drag the fear out so I can feed. That is why I stretch out the kill, why fear is my weapon."

She wished she could transform herself into a tiger. She growled her mirth at him. "Why kill at all?"

"Because it gives me back my place in this world. A purpose other than to feed. And it helps me to feed. They go hand in hand." His fingers stroked the door. "As we should, my child. But I do not understand why you laugh at this."

Neither do I.

Bart stared at the light next to him. It was just an outline of the Raven he knew, mostly her cloak. She had spooked him at first, but it wasn't taking him long to get used to talking to her other self.

They had gotten tattoos together, after all.

"What was the pressure again?"

"The gauge said three atmospheres. Does that help?" She sounded so distant, even though she was standing right there. Well, almost.

He spoke into the phone again. "Ok, they're getting set up. Vic'll meet you guys there. Glad you already 'member where it is. Go find yourself." He stopped to think about what he had just said. "Uh, yeah. That's it. Go find yourself."

"Azar bless you, Bart," the light called as it slipped through the walls and back into the fading night.