Hi. May I just state that I feel miserable? Blech…sorry that I didn't respond to anyone's reviews this time around. But I'm really tired, and really sick…anyway, I finally got around to posting this. Please enjoy it, even though this chapter is horribly dark. And, if you wouldn't mind: Can nobody yell at me at sucking at updating? I promise, after today, you can expect updates a lot sooner.

Chapter Twenty: Pride Cometh Before A Fall

Slade-

A chill hung in the air, suspended in the everlasting darkness that loomed like the frightening creatures that children often see in their dreams, the beasts that make them scream out loud and awake, searching for comfort from a parent or another. However, in this misery, there is nothing to ease the pain, the undeniable and frozen realization of being alone in the world.

But then there are times where some people are meant—destined—to reside the shadows. They have the ability to embrace the cold, and slowly build a wall around them, a fortress created from their reputation among others. Some people are intended to acknowledge the evil that resides in our world, understand it…and become it; to destroy life, to play God with those others around them, to have their name whispered with awe and fear in areas all through the world.

And when he was done with this insignificant excuse for society, the rumors would never end, there was no doubt about it. Nothing could go wrong—not when four of the Titans were hospitalized, in no condition to stop him, and Holocaust, his reckless partner, was in the middle of something he couldn't even begin to comprehend. As for Robin…?

Slade had checked the tracking monitor awhile ago, and, observing that the boy was somehow detained in Wayne Manor, couldn't help but laugh slightly. Robin was a fool to run to his "father," partly the reason that he had punished the Boy Wonder by attacking Starfire. Now, of course, he was trapped with Batman, no doubt arguing. Slade knew of the rift in the two's relationship, the very thing that had caused Robin to leave Gotham and come to Jump…

…Right into Slade's waiting arms. The villain smirked behind his mask, the derisive grin quickly transforming himself into a disdainful sneer. He wondered how the Dark Knight would take it, should it be revealed that, in a way, he had put his own son in danger of being captured and blackmailed into criminal activities.

How pathetic.

Hollow footsteps sounded behind him, as metal connected against the floor of the lair, and a small band of robotic drones emerged behind him, finished with their task, and Slade felt a small feeling of glee come over him. He was in complete control…over Holocaust, Robin, the Titans, the citizens of Jump City, the list went on and on…

Just how he liked it.

Turning sharply on his heel, the mastermind retreated to his worktable, scooping up a black cellphone that rested on the cool surface; his fingers moved over the numbers rapidly, punching out a number. The other line rang for a few seconds, but eventually there came a click on the other line, signaling that the recipient of the call had picked up.

"'Lo?"

"Did you take care of the girl?" Slade asked sharply, not one to waste precious time. There was a crackling sound as Holocaust sighed happily.

"Yup. She's dead."

"Good…"

"Anything else you wanted?"

"The meeting."

"Oh, lovely." Another sigh, this one sounding a bit more weary and exasperated. Slade ignored it, as usual. "Where is it?"

"The coast line, outside the city."

"Yup…any specific time?"

"A few minutes before dawn. Don't be late," He warned.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Holocaust said sarcastically, and he hung up. Slade mimicked him, crushing the phone in his grip. He wouldn't need it anymore.

Holocaust-

Cheap juke box wound itself out of old, faded speakers and about the patrons of a small corner bar in Jump City. It was the only noise about the place, aside from the small clink of glasses against one another, as a lone bartender served his customers.

Normally, it would have taken him only a few seconds to transport himself to the area where he and Slade were meeting…but the time was only 8:45, and Holocaust wasn't all that eager to wait around for his partner(Did he mention how much he hated that word already? Being "buddy, buddy" with a crazy dictator was driving him absolutely nuts! Ironic, how he was the one that wanted to team up in the first place…well, that was life) for—roughly—ten hours.

Well, he had needed time for his little… "errand."

The fire demon sat in one of the darker areas in the bar, a full glass of beer beside him, but his eyes were fixated on the gun he cradled in his hands. Right now, the weapon was his best friend in the world…heck, maybe it'd even be an artifact later on, going down in villain history…

As the firearm that killed Slade Wilson.

Holocaust was going to go to the meeting, hear the man's plan out, then shoot him and be done with everything. Sure, it'd been fun to dispatch the Titans one by one, but Holocaust was getting tired of messing around with pesky teens. He was looking for the next big thing…a murder of someone important, preferably a hero that well known. Anyway; he'd have to look into it.

The demon picked up his drink and, carefully lifting the bottom part of his mask, took a large gulp; at the same time, a man sitting at a nearby table caught a small glance of a disgusting face beneath the stranger's mask and his stomach twisted with sickened horror. Holocaust saw this and shrugged, not bothered in the least. It didn't matter; he'd burn the whole place down before he left.

Being an arsonist definitely had its benefits.

Slowly, his eyes returned to the sleek surface of the gun and he—almost lovingly—touched it, turning it over in his grasp, before he clutched it with decision.

It didn't matter what he'd heard in the gossip; no one in the entire world was immortal, it was impossible. Even for a bastard like Slade.

Raven-

It was worse than she thought.

Not long after Holocaust had departed, the girl had quickly begun to send her own healing powers throughout her body, to see what the extent of the damage was. If she could heal others, why not herself?

Faint blue magic crackled through her blood stream towards the broken lung, while Raven waited tensely. Her powers were still severely weakened after mending Beast Boy's bones and her demon outburst, and she couldn't be guaranteed that her energy would hold out for much longer…

Just breathe…just breathe, she had told herself while her limbs trembled with the combined effect of fear and exhaustion. If she could just hold on…

That's when she found that the damage had gone much farther than she had expected; the metal beam that Holocaust had used not only damaged her lung, but had punctured a hole in her stomach…her mind was so faint it was hard for her to put two and two together, but the real terror of the situation struck her soon.

She was internally bleeding…

More tears fell, quick and hot and the ground trembled a little beneath her aching body. It didn't have as much of a dangerous reaction as before, only because Raven was fading fast, crumbling before the gates of death.

I can't die…please, I…I can't go…

Modern medicine research showed that she had…maybe an hour, maybe two hours to live? That was unless she got surgical help…but nobody knew where she was…

"Pull…yourself together…" She whispered, voice cracking and trailing off. Raven could help herself…she was more than the average human…she had to be all right…

At that very moment, her healing magic gave out, little by little, as the demoness slipped into unconsciousness…

Live! Live! LIVE!

"I…c—ca…"

Glassy eyes closed.

Robin…somebody…help me…

Alfred-

"Ow…my head…"

Alfred jerked out of his light stupor, his head slipping off his hand where it had been resting, and he turned to look over at Robin who was stirring on the couch. The boy rubbed blearily at his temples and looked about himself carefully before catching sight of Alfred, who immediately smiled.

"Ah, Master Dick; you are awake?"

Robin stared at him in obvious horror.

"I fell asleep!"

Apparently Richard's mind wasn't clear enough to remember that his own father had…oh, what was the phrase? 'Punch his lights out?' That sounded appropriate.

"No, err…Master Bruce…"

Alfred didn't bother to finish his explanation: The enraged expression that appeared on Robin's face was enough of a signal that he recalled what had happened only too well. The butler shifted uneasily, not sure he wanted to deal with Master Dick's temper.

"Where's Bruce?" Robin snapped, trying to shove himself up as well as maintaining a threatening look on his face, but it was a little difficult to be intimidated when the boy winced out of incredible pain, clutching at his head, and fell back on the couch. Alfred took a cautious step forward, wary for any sudden attacks (the throbbing lump on the back of his head had taught him what Master Dick and his friend were capable of) peering at the teenager's face.

"Richard? Are you all right?" He didn't bother with proper titles in situations like this.

"I feel like got smacked in the head with a fifty pound weight."

Oh. That summed it up for the most part.

"Would you care for an ice pack? Or—" The British man gestured at the tea tray he had prepared by Master Bruce's orders. "—Some green tea, perhaps?"

Robin managed to crack a small smile and accepted the cup of tea, deeply inhaling the steam.

"Thanks."

The boy paused momentarily and craned his neck to see around the entire room.

"Where's Bruce?" He asked again, though his tone was no longer angry, and Alfred felt a secret sense of relief. Master Bruce had told him to keep Robin at the manor no matter what, but the butler hadn't been quite sure how easy a task that would be for someone his age.

"On duty."

"Ah."

Alfred could sense the boy relax some more, and wondered why.

"Is there something the matter, Richard?"

"What? Oh…" Robin shook his head slowly from side to side. "No. I just…nothing's the matter."

Alfred nodded thoughtfully, as if he didn't quite believe it, taking a cup of tea for himself while Robin massaged his injured head between gulps of tea.

"How long have I been out?"

"Half an hour, maybe? I haven't been watching the time."

Robin shrugged.

"That's okay…Hey, Alfred, do you think I could eat something?"

The butler smiled kindly.

"Of course. What did you have in mi—?"

The elderly man never finished his sentence, for he was interrupted by a sharp gasp from Robin. The teen's eyes went wide and his mouth gaped open in the likeness of a scream…but no sound came out. Alfred became aware that Robin had stopped breathing.

Robin-

"Robin…somebody help me!"

The scream resonated within his brain, shattering all self—control. Images blurred in his mind, of Raven lying in her own blood beneath the bows of trees, red staining her cloak in the twisted likeness of crimson flowers… but there were other strange visions bursting forward, flooding him, as if they had been contained behind a wall, and the makeshift dam had finally broken…Slade kicked in him in the stomach, Holocaust screamed in fury and agony, there was silence where there should be life--he was flailing crazily in water as liquid poured into his lungs while he tried desperately to kick for the surface…no good, no good—sadness swept over him, hospital rooms had blood running down their walls in waterfalls, a gun exploded as bullets were fired followed by a thud as they hit a body, a coffin trapped him, darkness—slowly, all killing him…

"HELP ME!"

"Raven!"

"Richard!"

Hands were on his shoulders, shaking him lightly. There was a last flash as Slade's masked face leered at him, before Robin was released from the strange spell that had overtaken him. Alfred's kind old face was watching him with concern, and his wrinkled hands were still placed firmly on Robin's shoulders. But what he had just seen kept repeating itself over and over again in his mind.

"Raven! Raven, she's hurt! Alfred, we've gotta go! We've gotta find her!"

The teen hero tried to stand, but the butler pushed him back down. Robin blinked in confusion and attempted to get to his feet once more, but Alfred gently pressed him down.

"W—What are you doing?"

Alfred looked apprehensive for a moment, biting his lower lip in indecision, before he explained quietly:

"Master Bruce didn't want you to leave until he came home."

"WHAT! Why?"

"He wanted to speak with you, preferably if you were calmer…and, he is a bit worried you may do something…err, rash," Alfred concluded bluntly, looking rather abashed. Robin, on the other hand, felt perfectly furious again.

" 'Rash?' Rash? God damn it, Alfred!" The boy roughly shoved the elderly man's hands off him, practically leaping to his feet. "My friend is out there! She could be—she probably has been attacked! She could be dying right now! I have to help her, and to hell with Bruce's stupid orders! We have to save her!"

Alfred's gray eyebrows knitted together in surprise.

" 'We'?" The British man asked uncertainly. Robin, still breathing heavily from his outburst, nodded mutely, determination evident on his face. Alfred still seemed to hesitate.

"You want me to help you?"

Again, Robin nodded, a look of utter desperation on his face. Still, Alfred nothing.

"Please, Alfred…disobey, just once. I promise I'll take the blame…please…"

The butler was practically gnawing on his bottom lip by now. Then, he nodded shortly.

"All right. I'll get my coat."

Robin grinned broadly.

-----------------------

"Do you have any idea where she might be yet?" Alfred asked urgently, increasing the pressure on the gas pedal in one of Bruce's multiple cars; the butler had considered using the Batmobile, but he already felt guilty enough about not following his orders. Robin, seated beside him, didn't appear to hear his old friend's question at first—the boy's eyes were closed tightly, and his legs were folded beneath him in a halfway meditative pose; his thumb and forefingers together to show wholeness and emptiness, a traditional symbol that Raven often used. Robin been hoping that if he tried to empty his mind, it might make it easier for his friend to mentally contact him again.

So far, no success: Alfred could tell from the way that Robin's shoulders sagged, though the youth continued to maintain his position.

The old man still didn't quite understand what was happening. The two of them—a elderly butler, and a rather obsession/compulsive teenager, no offense to Robin, but he'd heard plenty of gossip—were charging off into the night in a car that, technically, didn't belong to either of them, trying to find a demon girl that could possibly dying, and the only sliver of hope they had of discovering her location was to drive in circles and meditate.

It was a cynical outlook and seen from an outsider's view, was perfectly ridiculous. Exactly what made them both so sure that they were going to triumph in this "mission" of theirs? The unfortunate odds were that either the girl was already dead, or severely wounded, and if they ever found her she'd most likely have died by that time.

"What are places she might have gone to?" Alfred asked, trying to narrow down their search. Robin made a muffled sound, something between a groan of frustration and a curse, and answered, not moving at all:

"I don't know. Some place dark, some place quiet where there aren't a lot of people."

"Hmm…"

"Any places around here like that?"

"Abandoned warehouses, the docks, old buildings scheduled for demolition, alley ways, broken subway stations—"

"I get it. How about a place where…it's kind of peaceful…and you can see the night sky, maybe…or somewhere to rest without being looked at funny?"

"Bars, restaurants, café's, bookstores, the park—"

Robin jolted forward, a gloved hand scrambling for his seat belt to yank him backwards.

"There were trees, Alfred! In the vision she sent me! Head for the park," Robin ordered, leaning back into his seat, fists clenched tightly. Alfred nodded, eyes set upon the road ahead.

?-

The computer screen flickered brightly for a moment, reflecting in the darkened bedroom, causing one sleeper to snort; the laptop user winced and carried it carefully into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them, before they continued, hacking with precision into old police files. It was something they often did, to learn more about criminal psychology, a personal interest. It was weird, fine, they'd give it that. But they couldn't be positive…trust was a nice thing and all, but it was truly hard to come by in the modern world. Besides, they couldn't shake an odd feeling that had been growing on them ever since the meeting…

"Search topic?" A female voice slid from the laptop's built in speakers; the tone was soothing and there was no evident aggression, but it might have been thunder to the sneaking figure, and the user winced again and turned the volume down to a minimum.

With slow, careful typing so as not to miss even a single letter, they typed out a single name:

R-I-C-H-A-R-D G-R-A-Y-S-O-N.

And files, consisting of newspaper clippings and police reports, popped up all over the screen.

Raven-

Maybe she was delirious. Maybe she was losing it. Or maybe an absolute miracle was occurring and she just didn't know it, but through fogged eyes she saw Robin and Alfred's faces, melting in and out of mist, both looking frantic with worry. A pair of strong arms was carrying her, and Robin's voice was faraway as he whispered, "Raven…hold on…"

There was something wrong with her…it felt as though hands were clamping onto her body, dragging her downwards, into the ground and when she tried to yell, her voice was blocked by a heavy palm covering her mouth. She was drifting…drifting, and slipping into one more vision…Raven didn't bother to resist and pull out of it…she'd grown so used to the violent future being shown to her in segments, like some maniacal version of a movie playing and pausing itself repeatedly, as if to let her digest what was to happen…

She was drowning, her limbs so heavy that it felt as if she was dead, and merely just a corpse flowing along with the water in which she lingered in. Even though her eyes were closed, somehow she could still see what was happening about her…pale bodies of others drifted beside her; some had their mouths open, as if they were cheering or screaming when they were swept away…some reached out with white fingers, stretching and groping at nothing…men, women, children, animals…and in the very distance, a black shape began moving to the surface; all she could make out was that the person was wearing some sort of mask…?

Robin-

He hadn't said a word the entire time that the doctors carted Raven off to the emergency room—How could he? The fear, the undeniable dread was clawing upwards into his chest: an animalistic terror seizing him, as he considered the fact that it was quite possible he would lose everyone he cared about…

In a sense, Robin had already lost himself.

The memory of his friends' bloodied, mangled bodies made him shudder, and he wrapped his arms around his chest tightly…

He was the only person in the waiting room, aside from a snoring old man; Alfred had gone to the front desk to fill out medical forms, and had instructed Robin to stay where he sat—basically, the old man was asking the impossible. It was all the Boy Wonder could do not to run through the doors of the building and hurtle away into the blissful arms of night. He was going nearly insane, waiting for so long! Why did the stupid doctors have to take so long to find out what was wrong with Raven?

Even worse: Robin wasn't permitted to see any of the other Titans. They were still in critical condition, and no one on the hospital staff was willing to take the risk. The teenager was reduced to pacing, back and forth, back and forth, scuffing the floor with his boots; He was surprised he hadn't worn a hole right through the marble.

The clock seemed to be moving at an impossible rate, sometimes speeding by between his feverish glances, and yet creeping along tediously like a snail as well…Robin yawned widely, and returned to his chair, rubbing at his eyes behind his mask…he was so tired…the time said 11:00…12:45?…2:33…the hours stretched on for an eternity…

" 'Hell is empty'…"

" 'All the demons are here'…William Shakespeare…The Tempest…"

"Sharp as ever, I see."

"I…I don't understand."

"You will…you will…"

Wait.

The Tempest…Robin stood abruptly, pondering hard; The Tempest was Shakespeare's telling of an island attacked by a violent storm…wasn't it? A tempest…a tempest was like a hurricaine, with the combined forces of wind…and water.

But Slade had said to think about Holocaust, back in the graveyard. Holocaust dealt with fire, right? Water didn't make any sense—or did it?

Yin and Yang, fire and water…what better way eliminate flame than to extinguish it with its natural opposite, right? But if Slade was going to kill his partner, he'd have to something more than just dump a bucket over the demon's head, no doubt about that. How did that work?

"We don't know what happened! All we know was that nothing appears to be taken, and that the thief could possibly be a convicted pyromaniac."

Alfred had assumed that nothing was taken…but Bruce's warehouse had nearly been burnt to the ground, correct? How could anyone tell if something was missing or not? …If Slade was going to murder Holocaust, he'd make it more complicated than the typical kill…that meant he was planning to take something else than the fire man's life…

What would have a powerful effect in the area of destruction?

"He said to 'think Holocaust,'" Robin murmured, kneading his face with his knuckles. "A holocaust is fire…but also the taking of many lives, especially Jews, right?"

That sounded about right…but the taking of many lives…?

Oh no.

Heart thudding wildly in his chest, Robin took off running towards the hospital's exit. Slade hadn't been taunting him, trying to frighten him with that quote…the madman had been giving him hints about his plan…

And Robin hadn't even seen it.

Holocaust-

The pearly dawn peeked at him over the roving waves of the ocean, gray clouds bearing the feeling of a coming storm…something to look forward to, he supposed.

Holocaust fiddled nervously with the gun in his pocket, orange eyes darting this way for a sign that told him Slade would show, and not stand him up…

"Holocaust."

The fire demon spun, then relaxed as he saw the one—eyed mastermind stalking towards him. The two were standing on the edge of a narrow, rocky cliff that jutted over the tumultuous water. It made the villain from Hell shudder slightly, to be so close to liquid, though he didn't let Slade see this.

Acting casual, he fixed his gaze upon Slade and said confidently:

"So, ready to finish your plan?"

"Without a doubt," the man said simply, watching Holocaust with a strange look in his eye. It didn't ease the demon's feeling of apprehension.

"Do you have it?"

"But of course!" Holocaust replied, still attempting to act as if he thought nothing were wrong, nor that he had a gun in his pocket.

Don't worry, he told himself silently. Just talk, shoot, and walk away. Simple as that.

With a flourishing, sweeping motion, the demon drew back the folds of his trench coat, revealing a body completely clothed in black; packets of francium were laid within the ragged garment, hidden well from the questioning eyes of the public.

"Just like you asked," Holocaust said proudly; Slade's eye was glaring with immense, smug satisfaction, and he began clapping slowly, sarcastically.

"Well done…I admit, I am impressed. But you see…" His sentence trailed off for a moment, and Holocaust's uneasiness slipped up a few more notches.

"This little adventure you've been on was pointless."

Slade let these words take effect on the demon, watching with pleasure as the criminal's fury and confusion swelled to a roaring crescendo.

"What! What are you talking about!" Holocaust all but roared, brandishing his fists in a bit of a childish manner. "I—you said you—the francium—it was fuel for the—"

"Oh, I know. In that, you are correct; francium was indeed required for my plan." Slade was walking in slow circles about Holocaust's frozen form, like a predator playing with its prey.

"But what you didn't know, is that I already had an ample supply of francium stored with me…and while you have been out on your foolish quest to retrieve the chemical, my drones have been placing it all about the vital parts of this city—" Slade waved a disgusted hand behind him at Jump City, standing only a few miles away. "—Which will bring it to its knees."

Holocaust shook his head, as if not wanting to believe it.

"No—I was helping you—"

"Oh, you certainly were; eliminating the Titans so they wouldn't get in my way…that was quite a performance, I will admit."

The fire demon was close to losing it.

"I—I'm your partner! I—"

But Slade was shaking his head, as if he were talking to a kid.

"Wrong again, Holocaust. I don't work in partners, much like yourself. I prefer to be in control at all times…in that sense, we are rather alike. But don't be too upset," He added slyly, as Holocaust fumbled for his pocket, ready to whip out the gun and fire. "I've saved the most important job for you."

One—two—three bullets blasted from the gun and struck Slade's chest. The masked man glanced carelessly at them, as if they were only a minor irritation and before the fire thrower's horrified eyes, the holes in Slade's chest began to disappear…

"I…I…"

Holocaust seemed to have run out for air, and he couldn't seem to do anything as Slade leaned forward so that their masked faces were inches apart.

"After all…every bomb needs a trigger…"

It took only a simple push.

-----------------------

Holocaust sank beneath the waves, his screams unheard as his body writhed and burned beneath the surface; the francium, activated by the water, began to explode, bursting forward in small blasts, and it caused him additional pain.

A single chunk of the chemical fell from his coat and on a small, metallic box shape placed on the sandy bottom of the ocean…the form erupted, the metal being eaten away by the francium, and, in the one second left in his life, Holocaust watched the clock tick backwards…

3…2…1…

-----------------------

"Mama?"
Angela Manson's eyes flickered open to see her little six year old daughter, Rachel, watching her with puzzled eyes; two tiny, chubby arms clutched her stuffed bear tightly, as the child whispered:

"Why is it raining in the house?"

"Huh?"

Now that Rachel mentioned it…water was spewing from the ceiling, out of the fire extinguisher, and soaking the carpet and furniture. All along the walls of the small house, water pipes splintered and began shooting forward jets of water.

"C'mon," Angela yelled, and, bending, scooped up her daughter and ran out the door into the cold, early morning.

Everywhere, fire hydrants were shaking with pressure, as water leaked out all over the streets. People all along the street poured out of their houses along with their families, each as bewildered as the Mansons. Angela turned this way and that, hoping to find an official city member that might explain what was happening, but a small hand pulling on the hem of her nightdress caused the woman to look back at her daughter, whose dark eyes were transfixed on something.

"Mommy, what is that?"

Angela looked…and paled. People were screaming, running…

All she could manage was a hoarse whisper.

"Oh my God," Angela said almost inaudibly. "Oh my God…"

Robin-

Robin stumbled over the top of the hill that separated Gotham and Jump, and came to a standstill, masked eyes white and unbelieving as he watched the colossal wave smash into a halfway flooded Jump City. There was a collective shriek of a million voices cried for help, before they were silenced beneath gigantic wave after wave…

It didn't seem to stop, as more and more of the city was pulled away, cars and pieces of broken homes riding along crests of white foam. Glass panes from skyscrapers shattered beneath impact, breaking in half…

And all Robin could do was watch, held in place by his own terrible guilt. Rain drops began to seep from behind the sky, falling upon his still form as the assault of waves grew fewer and fewer…before they stopped entirely.

The crumbled city before him…once his home. Once the place that he guarded with his life…

Too late.

Too late…

To be Continued…

There. Done with another chapter. Hope you liked it; I got the ideas for the wave bomb thing from that big tsunami that took place awhile ago and killed all those people…you'd be surprised what kind of destruction water can create…

Rebel-Aquarius