Disclaimer: Any of the characters you recognize, I don't own. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this for free. I'm not as dumb as I look, trust me.
And stop writing this? Not take it seriously? Perish the thought::piles of composition notebooks behind her fall in what would be a very interesting cascade if the authoress weren't trapped under them:
… I have a feeling I'm about to make some people very upset… :sweatdrop:
Tale
He knows their routine better than any of them, rightfully should. It would be a disgrace to his dad's name if he didn't. It had required him to take an extensive review of every 'woulda, shoulda, coulda' that wrote the stories of their lives to begin understanding the rationale, reasoning, and rhyme's meter they followed. Admittedly, it had taken him a while longer than he would have liked to admit (would ever admit) to put it all together, but the point was that he had.
His eyes were the first open, his feet the first to hit the roof, with (rarely) or without (more commonly) his mind's knowledge. His feet carried him to the same place, and his body sank to the same spot of the cold roof in the early morning. His prayer carried his plea for forgiveness foremost, his concern for both his atypical fathers and family falling after easily.
(Alfred had been the first to discover the then newfound 'habit' when he caught him attempting to sneak back into the manor from the lawn at 3:00 in the morning, shivering through his pajamas and hastily grabbed robe, had been the first to encourage it, though not necessarily under the same conditions.)
Cyborg was always the next to stumble his way to the top of the tower and emerge against the chill atmosphere. He never acknowledged him, never even turned around, didn't have to because he knew who it was. He would end up kneeling, eyes closed as tightly as his own. Cyborg asked for forgiveness, but then they all did because just their day to day gave life to things they could do nothing but carry out and seek atonement for when the last of it had been put to rest for the day; the strength Victor used to rise in the morning and move through the day and do his job was asked for after respect was given for his parents.
They welcomed the dawn together, Starfire with her silent prayer in first her tongue, then theirs joining Cyborg on the eastern edge, he and Beast Boy with only their shared amnesty pleas on the western, and Raven between them.
Robin knew their routine better than any of them because he'd taken the time to watch them, picked up the puzzle pieces they sometimes dropped and figured out how they fit together.
(If Cyborg's movements were too deliberate during a battle, Starfire watched them too closely even after checking their injuries then and there afterward, Beast Boy gazed after the world outside the window a little too intently on the ride home, or Raven went out of her way to avoid physical contact once they were home, he didn't give any indication that he'd noticed.)
Then he'd taken in the completed pictures without laying that which he wouldn't have displayed of himself.
(If sometimes in the morning, he stayed on the roof with them those few extra moments they felt they owed, had attacked a little too quickly and a little too hard in the fight the previous day, then he didn't acknowledge it or the stray glances he'd be spared until the next fight when the cycle would repeat itself.)
They never recognized each other, as an unwritten understanding. Until they sat around the breakfast table, they'd never stepped foot from their bed, had still been dreaming as peacefully as could be expected of them until they'd awakened and picked up the task of cooking their meal or been gently roused by the aroma of it, and they'd all communed and said their good-mornings.
He knew their routine, from their rise in the morning with as much normalcy as they could tolerate without finding themselves abhorrent to falling gratefully dead in their beds after they'd finally exhausted themselves so thoroughly over the course of the day that they didn't have the energy to care and live at the same time. He knew better than any of them.
It was Raven who first noticed Cyborg hadn't even made it to the table that morning.
"Any news yet?" Robin questioned as Starfire floated quickly toward the sofa he sat on.
"No." Starfire shook her head sadly. "I don't understand; he's never done something like this before."
Robin's scowl deepened. "I know." Sighing, he quickly rose, moving to the semi-circle of terminals and selecting his workstation. He pulled up the radar display of the active trackers. A few moments of swift typing brought the screen up on the large window panel before them.
Four red dots on-screen blinked methodically in a tight cluster labeled with the coordinates of the common area.
Robin typed in a few commands, and the area enlarged to include all of Jump City. Cyborg's symbolic little red dot remained mysteriously absent. Robin spun around in his chair. "Raven, did he take his car?"
Raven nodded, but didn't speak.
Robin sighed dejectedly, glaring at the floor in frustration. "Great. So he can be anywhere, now."
"What about the Titans East?" Beast Boy questioned quietly.
"…I don't know." Robin turned back to the computer, and quickly activated the link between their tower and the one in Steel City. The screen buzzed, snow dancing over it as it often did when it first established a link, but after a moment's time, the communication system failed to make a connection and the screen remained a blanket of gray. Starfire felt her heart sink as Robin disconnected.
"Maybe they're preoccupied with something else?" Starfire attempted in answer to the unspoken question.
Robin shook his head forcefully. "No; even if they weren't there, the system would have automatically connected us to Bumblebee, just like theirs would have connected them to me. Speedy, Cyborg, and I revamped the systems both of our towers now operate on together; we would have gotten through to at least one of the Titans members, and there's no reason whatsoever I shouldn't have been able to get Cyborg. The only possible explanation is the system's off-line. And if they didn't take it off-line themselves, then that means we have a problem. They wouldn't just take the system off-line; period."
"… What if Cyborg was with the Titans, and they did encounter trouble?" Starfire's voice trembled.
"Or maybe we can't find Cy because he doesn't want to be found," Beast Boy muttered. Robin scowled defiantly and returned to his keyboard. The tracking area enlarged.
"There!" Starfire pointed frantically toward the blinking red dot beside which 'Cyborg' was neatly scrawled. "But how do we get there?"
"The T- ship is overkill. Even using one of my cars, we'd have to get to my place first, and I don't want unnecessary attention higher up. Starfire and Raven could go alone, but …" Robin mused aloud. "Raven, do you think you can take all of us –"
"Don't."
Robin paused mid-sentence. "What?"
Raven's wide-eyed gaze was still frozen to the screen. "We can't follow it. We shouldn't."
"You mean you don't want us to try and find him?" Robin's eyes narrowed in question.
Beast Boy shifted uncomfortably in the silence before he stood. He stalked around the couch and to the exit. "I'm going out."
"Where are you –"
"I said out," Beast Boy cut Robin off sharply. "I'll be back. I just need to think." He kept his back turned as he stepped out of sight.
Robin watched in confusion as Raven quickly followed. Robin stared as she disappeared from sight after him.
The alarms abruptly went off, the common area glowing red as the screen contained in the window panel blinked back to life unauthorized. An earsplitting beep accompanied the rapidly blinking red dot that appeared on screen.
"That's not Cyborg," Robin groaned as another window appeared in the top right corner. "Let's roll," he muttered, sliding from the chair and picking up his bo-staff from the table as he sprinted toward the exit. He halted as Starfire appeared before him.
"Robin, we've no idea what's happened to Cyborg or the other Titans, and now Beast Boy and Raven –what if whatever happened to the others –"
"We don't need them!" Robin snapped, scowl distorting his features. He exhaled sharply as he watched the expression on her face change to utter fear.
"…That's not what I meant. You know that's not what I meant. Look… Cinderblock is a small problem, but he can create big ones. We'll find them; we'll find out what happened to them." His voice softer, he soothed, "I promise. They're our friends."
Midnight black against the blue-gray sky, the large bird silently sailed over the buildings to the square's empty park as the rain threatened again to fall with a warning clap of thunder that rolled over the city. The bird dived for the park, wings tucked into its sides, and it suddenly and inexplicably disappeared into what appeared to be the solid ground. Wings still firmly pressed against its body as it soared through the tunnel that led from the nearly invisible hole along the surface, the passage narrowed and the black bird pressing gently against the rocky sides before it widened again as it reached the small canyon beyond. It soared near the stalactites before landing gracefully and fading away.
Beast Boy, frozen, appeared in its place, Raven behind him as her eyes lost the black glow and returned to their natural violet color.
The air echoed silently around the cavern.
"What if it doesn't work this time, either?" Raven was already approaching the statue-like figure at the center of the cavern.
"… We go from there." Raven kneeled before the statue, reaching inside her cloak. She pulled from it three small vials.
"All I wanted was a chance to think; like usual, you know?" Beast Boy chuckled and quietly came to rest beside Raven, reaching across her to remove the already wilting tulips from Terra's feet.
Raven carefully sat the three vials before her, opening the first carefully. The thick liquid within moved like gelatin as the vial was tilted; she held the vial in her left hand, carefully trailing a thin streak of the dark green substance along her first two fingers of her right hand. Still kneeling, she placed her fingers to the ground before her, and drew a careful circle between themselves and Terra, replenishing her ink as she ran out.
Inside, she drew four careful characters, circling them in a smaller sphere. She replaced the vial near the other two. Raven looked expectantly to Beast Boy. Hesitantly, he grabbed the third vial and stood. The top rolled to the floor, making its way toward the fresh design on the floor before Raven quickly scooped it up. With a sheepish and apologetic smile, Beast Boy turned his back to her and retreated. Staring at the ground, he held the vial over the floor and gently tilted it upward.
A thin strand of bright red powder trailed from it to the floor as Beast Boy quickly enclosed both Raven and Terra. When the last of the powder had spilled from the vial, he didn't step back into the boundary of the circle he'd drawn, instead taking another step away and kneeling.
His desperate gaze met Raven's.
The last vial was opened, and Raven let the clear liquid pool around the characters she'd drawn, flowing to the boundary of the small sphere, the gelatin like substance from the first vial holding it back.
Beast Boy quickly closed his eyes. He heard, faintly, Raven chanting, and felt the hair along the back of his neck stand as he realized he couldn't distinguish in what language it was rolling off her tongue, was only sure that it wasn't English; wasn't human.
"Please let this work," he mumbled inaudibly, swallowing air around the lump in his throat and feeling his body tense painfully.
Raven placed her palms in the middle of the four characters she'd drawn, careful not to disturb the rune she'd created as she continued chanting, the liquid sliding under her hands. The green flushed bright white as the floor around her began to glow, the light running to the boundary of the enclosure. It traveled up Terra's body, encasing it in the same glow that radiated blindingly around Raven.
Beast Boy felt himself struggling against the annoyingly persistent sensation that his body was falling apart as he squinted against the light.
It had to work this time; it had to…
He tumbled backwards, his feet flying from under him as the light increased suddenly, and he held up his hands in a shield against the violent red radiance. His feet grew damp, and he peeked through his fingers just enough to see the clear liquid turning red as it rushed to the ends of the cavern in torrents.
His flesh screamed as the liquid touched it, and his body was suddenly alight with pain, but he couldn't find his voice to scream. He tried to breathe. He fought for air, but he was drowning in the empty cavern.
Everything went black, and he was blinking, sightlessly.
Rapidly, he blinked again, finally opening his eyes to the familiar sight of the cavern, all traces of whatever had just happened vanished. He watched Raven sway on her knees for a moment before she fell to the floor.
"Raven!" Beat Boy screamed, rushing to her. He turned her over, lifting her into his arms as he knelt. "Raven?" Wincing, she slowly opened her eyes and let them roam. She turned to her left, closing them again as her body tensed in frustration. She pulled from his arms at length, but stayed at his side as she stared at Terra.
"Now what?"
"We try again," she answered. "My books are useless, as is everything I know. I guess the only thing now is to attempt journeying back to Azarath and seeing what I can find in the Records…" She rested one hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry; we're not giving up. We'll find a way. No matter what we have to do, ok?"
He shivered at the last phrase as he remembered the sound of her voice moments before. "…You wouldn't use his power,would you?"
Raven didn't move as she replied, "We'd both let her die first."
"You're hurting yourself," was out of his mouth before he'd realized it. "Whatever you're doing… it's too powerful. You can't control it."
Raven stared back at him defiantly. "You don't want me to stop trying."
"No," he said and frowned. "Yes. I mean…" He shook his head as if trying to clear it. "I can't ask you to keep doing this."
"It's my decision."
Beast Boy finally stood, extended his hand to help her up beside him. "… Thank you." Her head tilted downward in acknowledgement, and he turned to Terra, his mouth forming words that lacked the volume needed for them to carry farther than Terra's deaf ears. His hand rose gently to brush against Terra's stone cheek.
He'd expected the cool, rough surface of granite that had become familiar under his palms. His fingers were touching cold skin. The light still radiating around her brightened from an invisible glow to a soft, dull white. Eyes widening, Raven stared past the questioning glance she was spared, and hastily pulled her hand from his. Beast Boy placed his now free hand to the other side of Terra's face, cradling it as he felt her cold skin warm under his palms.
"What's happening?" he asked softly, but Raven didn't respond. His hands moved down to her waist; her clothes had been torn, and through the frayed lengths she still wore, he could fell the warmth of her stomach lighting down his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face into her searing hair. His skin heated, white hot nails digging into his skin until he was too warm, but he didn't let go. The glow encased him, and they became a blinding white that Raven protectively shielded her eyes against as its intensity grew.
"Garfield!" Raven's cry startled him, and he fell from the base, pulling Terra with him.
Raven caught him with a black structure, and he fell to his knees of his own accord, cradling Terra's warm body against his own. Beast Boy was wary as he embraced her, carefully scanning her body. Her lanky arms and legs were lankier than he recalled, her form thinner and her already torn clothes weren't enough to accommodate her. He sat in silence, and Raven stepped back from him respectively.
"Home," Beast Boy finally managed to tell Raven. "Let's go home."
Raven nodded and enshrouded the three of them in a black raven again that melted through the ceiling and disappeared from sight.
Even from a distance Starfire could distinctly make out that Robin was pissed. The two officers before him, though at least fifty good pounds heavier than Robin, cowered inwardly under his gaze, shrinking into themselves as he stared past them and to the transport vehicle Cinderblock was slowly being ushered into. He mumbled something she didn't think was actually directed to the two men, and they cringed as he reached for his utility belt and turned from them. As he approached her, Starfire made out the yellow plastic casing of their communicators tightly gripped between his gloved fingers. Reflexively, she turned away slightly as he got close enough for her to see the blood on the front of his uniform his left hand idly played over.
"Robin?"
"What aren't you telling me, Raven?"
Starfire flinched. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around her middle as she leaned back against the sturdier and slightly clean brick wall of the alley she'd waited in for the last few moments as Robin had tied up the last loose ends of their encounter.
"That's a long list, Robin. You're going to have to be more specific," the communicator in his grip bit back.
Robin took a deep breath as if centering himself, his enunciation as precise as his reply. "What aren't you telling me about Cyborg?"
There was an audible sigh on the other end. "He blocked his tracer. A few years ago."
"He what?"
"So we couldn't find him," Raven explained. "He didn't tell me how."
"And what we found back at the tower?"
"Decoy." Robin's brows creased. "Look… Cyborg wouldn't block his tracer just because he wants to be alone. It was never about that. It's… insurance."
"Insurance for what?" Robin scowled at the communicator, and Starfire was sure that Raven could have heard it even if she hadn't been able to see it.
"For our safety," she replied, her voice slowly rising from the deadpan she'd been using. "He said… if he gets into trouble that he can't get himself out of, he doesn't want us trying to come to the rescue."
"That's stupid."
"We all do stupid things, Robin."
He swallowed back a yell as he replied, "He's being selfish, pig-headed, and stubborn. Don't you get it? He's saying we can't take of ourselves; that he doesn't trust us to take care of ourselves, even if his life depends on it."
"Sound familiar?" Raven asked calmly.
"He doesn't trust us, Raven!"
"That's not true. And I'm done having this conversation with you."
Robin stared dumfounded at the communicator as Raven's face, frozen with anger, disappeared from the screen.
"She's right."
Robin turned sharply in the direction of the whisper, gaze softening marginally as he finally registered that Starfire had been standing there the entire time. He cursed himself mentally.
"I'm sor –"
"Don't apologize to me." Green eyes rose to meet his, and Robin felt the adrenaline he'd been running on suddenly drain from him, leaving him weak. "Don't apologize to me like I am a child, Robin. I don't need that anymore."
"Star –"
"Raven is right." Starfire hung her head. "He cares about us, Robin. You know he does. Sometimes, we're blinded because of our feelings, and we do stupid things."
"I … know," Robin sighed.
"Yes. You do. He made a mistake. You know what that's like." No question was added afterward, and Robin turned from her gaze without verbalizing the unneeded answer. Starfire pushed herself from the wall and moved to stand before him.
"Take off your shirt."
Obediently, he reached down to the divide under his belt between pants and shirt and looped his fingers under the hem. He pulled, flinching as the material scraped over his chest. Slender fingers wrapped around his hands, and his shirt was maneuvered the rest of the way off without discomfort.
As it slipped over his head, he looked up to watch her face and lifted his hand to brush what he thought was a tear away from her cheek in one swift movement, only to have another raindrop hit his own shoulder. Gently, but firmly, she led him under the cover of a tattered green canopy, overhanging a broken door in the side of the brick wall, and pushed him to his cycle's seat.
"Not here," he said before a look from Starfire told him to close his mouth. Thunder rolled in the distance threateningly as Robin sat frozen under Starfire's skilled hands, wiping away the blood and the dirt in timeless moments. Robin stared at the little bit of sky that peeked in between the top of the next building over and the canopy impatiently.
The bandage was refused as he replaced his shirt and pulled her down behind him on the seat. Once she'd secured her helmet, she leaned into his back, wrapping her arms around his middle and squeezing him gently in an ok, and the cycle beneath them roared to life.