Hehe. This is going to be fun…for me at least. Sorry for the wait. I had no clue that it would take this long. The reviews were a nice surprise. I didn't know anyone read stories under 1000 words long. Cool. Anyways, stick with me. We're not going to see Slade till next chapter, but he'll be worth it.
So, to keep you all encouraged, here's an excerpt from next chapter:
His black silhouette stood unnaturally strait against the shower of burning debris. Sweat and blood stung her eyes, blurring her vision. "Cyborg!" Amber called out, praying his horrible stillness wasn't due to a dead power supply.
Her mistake was realized as a cold, cultured voice replied, "Hardly."
Standard disclaimers apply: Don't own. Don't sue…what a freakin' chore!
(Line Break)
The cry was quick and clipped. The blackness that greeted Amber's vision made her panic, till her eyes began making out the familiar shapes of her own room. In front of her was the wide window, to the left was her reading couch, and to the right was her bookcase. Amber choked out the breath she had been holding. Everything was as it should be. The sheers over her window moved gently with a breeze, the pale gray of early morning was creeping through the room, and the sheets of her bed were again twisted around her in impossible knots. Business as usual.
Amber sat grinding her teeth, patiently waiting for the shakes to pass. The dream itself didn't bother her as much as the effect it had on her body. She pressed her cool palms into her hot, sticky cheeks, willing the heat away. The sweat on her neck and back were chilling, and her pajamas stuck to her body. Altogether unpleasant enough, but it was also frustrating. Amber hadn't had an episode in almost a year. In the back of her mind she had hoped…she had thought… well, she was wrong.
"Damn," she muttered, falling back into her pillow. The wall clock glared down "6:13" in garish green script. She could just about kill for a shower, but the running water might wake the others. Let them sleep. If she showered now she would just have to shower again after practice. She had wanted to get the training room to herself anyway.
Amber rolled over to get out of bed. She realized too late she was closer to the edge than she thought. She rolled off the bed with a squeak, landing on the floor in a tangled mess of limbs and bed sheets. Grunting and pulling, she kicked her way out of the offensive bedding. Rolling away from the mess, Amber tried to sit up. There was a sick sounding 'crack' as her head connected with the bed frame.
"AH! Mother f…" She gripped her throbbing head, scrambling to her feet. She aimed a kick at the pile on the floor, running her toes into the bedpost. Amber yelped, hopping on her one good foot and grabbing the other. And, somehow, she wasn't really surprised when her foot came flying out from under her as she slipped on the now neglected sheets, and fell hard to the floor with a shower of creative and violent expletives.
Amber lay sprawled ungracefully across the wooden floor, staring at the ceiling. A painful throbbing pounded through her head and foot. She coughed out a defeated sigh. She didn't even have the leftover grace that god gave Beast Boy. It was already a very long day.
Amber got up, a little more sober, running her hands through her sweaty chocolate locks. She usually slept in a braid, but hadn't last night. She was paying for it now. Amber grimaced, pulling her fingers free from the hot tangles and walked carefully to her mirror.
Her impish, heart-shaped face was flushed, and her usually sweet pink lips were starch white. It was a small shock every time she saw herself now (even when she wasn't sporting drawn cheeks and puffy eyes), but it was the woman in the mirror that caught her off guard. When she arrived at Titan Tower two years ago, she had been a scrawny, fresh-faced eighteen-year old girl; the woman in the mirror was twenty. Her body was fuller now, her jaw-line and cheekbones were more defined, and her nose now seemed to fit her face. But, it was her eyes that had shown the most change…She hated it.
Amber closed her eyes against the disturbing image. It had to happen. Everyone grew up sometime; she just didn't feel like it yet. What was left for her post Titans anyway? The League? Fly solo? The League had certainly not expressed any interest.
Six months…in six months she would be twenty-one, a legal adult. In six months, she would be on her own. It wasn't that she couldn't take care of herself; she was more than capable. But, what was her purpose? What was she supposed to do with her gift in a world that wouldn't understand or accept it? Worse yet, what if they did understand it?
Amber shook her head. These thoughts weren't going to do her any good, nor would they make her any better at what she did. The League be damned, she could forge her own destiny. She could design her own purpose, be her own protection. Training would make everything all better.
Amber exchanged her pajamas for a black yoga ensemble and sports camisole. Pulling her hair into a loose messy bun, Amber made her way down the dark halls of Titan's Tower, leaving even darker thoughts behind her.
(Scene Break)
Another hour found the rest of the Titans sitting, more or less peacefully around the breakfast table.
"It looks great Star! But, uh…what is it?" Robin asked, giving the oozy, puce lump an experimental poke with his fork.
Starfire squealed, delighted with the compliment. "It is warfles, the traditional morning meal of the Tamaranian court." Star beamed, looking proud and cheerful even for her.
"It doesn't look like any kind of waffles I've ever seen," said Cyborg, cringing as his own crusty blob ate his fork out of his hand. Next to him, Beast Boy seamed unconcerned. Ignoring his utensils, he up-ended his plate into an unnaturally large mouth, swallowing the thing whole.
"Kinda' tastes like tofu," BB belched happily. Cyborg gawked, shock and revulsion mixed over his face.
"Juuust let her tell you what's in it," Raven deadpanned lightly, sipping on her lonely cup of tea. She, of course, had made her standing on breakfast very clear.
"It is not waffles, friend Cyborg, 'warfles'. I have spent three weeks harvesting the secretions of the heglorp worm, and the m'nflorp fungus must cultivate 75 years before being scraped from the rump of the kordung warfle to be shipped billions of light years to earth. I am overjoyed that you enjoy this delicacy of my home planet, friend Beast Boy." Starfire went chibi with delight.
Beast Boy seamed suddenly three shades greener, gaping at Starfire wide-eyed and open-mouthed. BB sprinted from the table, gloved hand over his mouth, disappearing behind the sliding main room doors. Cyborg and Robin stared after him with matching looks of horror. The boys flashed Starfire identical forced smiles.
"Look, Red X!" Cyborg shouted, striking his very best startled-pointing-hero pose. All heads snapped to face an imaginary enemy in the kitchen as Cyborg dumped his warfle onto Robin's unwatched plate. Robin and Starfire turned back with questioning looks, Robin raising a suspicious eyebrow. Raven observed with an air of mild humor.
"Whoops, guess not. Trick of the eyes, or somethin' like that. Hooo! I'm full. Thanks for breakfast Star. Bye," Cyborg darted, leaving a dumbstruck Robin with Starfire, Raven, and a heaping plate of warfles.
(Break)
With the main room out of view Cyborg slowed his pace, releasing a sigh of relief. He almost felt sorry for Robin, till he decided it was just another game he had won. The thought of holding it over Robin's head later greatly improved Cyborg's mood. His stomach, however, was complaining loudly over missing breakfast.
"Man! Maybe I should have tried Star's cookin'," in the background Cyborg could hear Beast Boy heaving, "orrr, maybe not." But, that didn't change the fact he was hungry. Cybernetic human's need food too. "Maybe Amber's got somethin'," Cyborg's stomach agreed. Amber always kept a supply of powerbars and ding-dongs for the rare occasion Star or Beast Boy were allowed to cook.
But, where was she? She was always at breakfast, come hell or Star's cooking. If it was something nasty she would just say she was on a strict diet, which was true (though the ding-dongs were her and Cy's little secret), but Amber was always at breakfast. Unless…she was in the training room.
"Ahh, man…" Breakfast would be a little while in coming. Amber only trained through breakfast when she had trouble sleeping, and there was only ever one reason she had trouble sleeping. Cyborg rubbed his temples. He had been so distracted with warfles he hadn't noticed her missing. It had been months since her last episode, almost a year. They all thought she had found the right therapy. Whatever the case, powerbar or moral support, Cyborg had to see her. It was almost time for training anyway.
(Break)
He could hear her before he opened the door. Thwack, thwack, thud…KRACK. Cyborg sighed. Amber on the punching bag was not a good sign. He depressed the button. The doors opened on an airy, wide-open gym. Weights and aerobics equipment occupied one half of the room. Mats, weapons, targets, and combat equipment lined the walls of the other half. To the right and near the center, Amber was punishing some undeserving 'whack sack'. Thwack, thwack, thud, duck, KRACK!
Cyborg just watched. She was rarely so involved with an exercise. She was in the zone, and he could observe without her noticing.
She wasn't exactly the fragile, graceful, willowy type. Sturdy legs and solid shoulders made her less than delicate. Her powerful body made for devastating hits…when she could land one. Her fighting technique was not typical. She moved more like a ferret than a woman, opting for swift, indirect hits, usually delivered with a curve. It was not the most effective mode of combat (being easy to read and easier to block), but the uniqueness caught unfamiliar opponents off guard. She could prove to be distracting.
Amber wasn't really a bombshell, not like Starfire or Raven anyway. But she did have her own variety of charm. Her powerfully built body was graced with sweeping, feminine curves that set her apart from her teen counterparts. Her strange, swirling combat was pleasant to watch, and her button nose crinkled when she was concentrating. But, it was the eyes that held the attention. She was the kind of girl that could make or save a sinner.
"You going to train or what?" Amber finished off her combination, let the bag sway slightly, and let loose with a random flurry of basic left-rights. "Did you need something?"
Cyborg mentally smacked himself, "Star made breakfast. Care to join us?"
Attention on the bag, Amber chuckled lightly. "Nooo thanks. Raven told me what was in it."
She continued whacking at the defenseless bag. Left, left, knee, duck uppercut, dance. It was a smooth, fluid combination she had been practicing all morning. She liked the flow of boxing, even if she would never be truly efficient with it (it wasn't her fighting skills that got her on the team). Compared to eastern martial arts boxing was even primitive, but it had its place. It was a good workout, a great stress reliever, and (according to Beast Boy) it was also an aphrodisiac. Suggestions like that always earned him a solid crack on the head.
Cyborg watched a while longer, noting her flushed face and unprotected stance. She wasn't training, just venting. Judging by her 'glowing' skin and 'rosy' cheeks she had been venting for a while. She wasn't going to stop on her own, either. He might as well just state the obvious.
"So the nightmare's back," Cyborg asked/stated.
Amber's uppercut missed and rolled, mashing her wrist into the bag with a crunch. Spears of pain forked up her arm, and through her shoulder. Amber yelped pitiably, hopping in a circle and gripping her wrist. Cyborg winced. The juvenile display would have been funny if he didn't know what that felt like.
"Gah, shhhhh…mother fu-udge cake," Amber choked, folding over her crippled hand. That was funny.
"Eeek! My virgin ears," he laughed, "You cuss worse than Robin."
Amber glared from behind loose bangs, "I don't cuss in front of children," she growled. Cyborg knew it was just a semi-playful swing at his age. She was only two years older, but she gave him a hard time about it when she was annoyed, or when he was acting particularly silly; like when him and BB would drag out the old 'stank ball'.
"Come on," he said sympathetically, "Lemme' see that." Cyborg pried her arm from her full-body grip. Amber bit down on her lip, gritting out something about an insufferable prick that had broken her concentration.
Cyborg sighed. Her hands were shaking horribly, and the areas around the wrist tape were bruising. Under the tape it was worse. The mashed wrist would need ice, as would her red, swollen knuckles. He didn't even know what to do about the bleeding between the fingers, and he had a sense the left hand wasn't much better.
Cyborg fixed her with a scolding look, "You know, we need these hands."
Amber threw back a humorless laugh, "Ah, yes. Whatever would you do without me?" Cyborg graced her with a rebuking gaze that left her feeling like the younger Titan. He began unwrapping the other hand, and shook his head.
"You know Robin's gonna kill you, right?"
Amber sighed, "Honestly Cyborg, I hadn't noticed. I was just swinging." Cyborg nodded. He knew she wasn't the self-mangling type. She couldn't have felt anything with the tape that tight anyway. She must have been distracted.
"Next time you feel like swinging, get someone else to tape you."
"You offering to get up at six to tape me?" Amber smirked.
"Throw in a ding-dong and you got a deal…shit," Cyborg pealed away the last of the bloody wrapping. It was, indeed, little better than the other hand. "It's times like this I wish you could just heal yourself."
"But, then what would you do?" Amber joked, but the dark mood of the tallest Titan wouldn't be lifted. Spinning her around like a toddler, Cyborg steered her to the sink by the shoulders. Amber might have been older, but he had a good head+shoulders over her.
Cyborg cranked on the cold water. Amber hissed as it hit her sore hands. Pink water circled the sink lazily before disappearing down the drain. She really had overdone it. If she were Cyborg she would be angry too. Amber searched her hands with her mind's eye, looking for any true damage, but all injury was topical. She would be able to freely use her gift without too much discomfort. Maybe Robin wouldn't even have to know.
"So…how bad was it?" Cyborg leaned against the wall expectantly. He wasn't going to let this pass. Her wrist was turning black with the fresh blood-flow. He had been right; Robin was going to kill her.
Amber didn't answer immediately, occupying herself with rubbing off the dried blood. It was hard to explain, especially when she had been trying to ignore it. The dream had been essentially the same as before, besides the weird, new ache in her neck. But, her mind…
Amber turned off the water, and just stared at the dripping faucet. The dream itself wasn't dangerous; it was what the dream meant, it was the first slip in her defenses. But, her 'condition' was more progressed than that. Her mind was in more disorder than it should be. She could feel the trigger building up, coiling for release.
Slowly, the words formed themselves in Amber's mouth, "I think…I might want to break out the collar." Saying it out loud was like swallowing battery acid. The familiar shame was quick in coming. She couldn't even look at him.
"WHAT," Cyborg started, "I thought it was just the first dream. You need the collar!" Cyborg's voice cracked.
"Just for battles Cy…and maybe sleeping. I don't think I'm really dangerous yet," Amber finished weakly.
"Really dangerous! YET! Amber, HOW BAD?"
"How do you want me to answer that, Cyborg?" she shouted back, "Do you want me to remind you what will happen if I have a meltdown, or do you just want to get me MY DAMN COLLAR?" Amber turned her head away. She could feel tears brimming in her eyes. She hated feeling out of control, she hated feeling useless, and she hated being a liability.
The collar could keep her gift in check, keep her from killing people, but it was an extreme measure. Wearing the collar was painful and inconvenient. Amber only wore the thing when an 'episode' was eminent. Before they tried meditation therapy, she would have weeks of dreams before she felt volatile enough to wear the thing. Raven's meditation techniques had been working. She had been dream and meltdown free for so long, she thought she was over it. She should have been over it. Now (once again) she was a liability, and now she was more unpredictable. Amber was truly ready to blow. What if next time she had no warning at all? How long would it be before she actually killed someone?
Amber turned her back to Cyborg, focusing her attention on drying her hands. Whatever the problem, he didn't deserve this. Hot, shameful tears spilled over her cheeks. She didn't deserve him.
"Cyborg, I…" but she wasn't able to finish. Damn her uncooperative vocal cords.
"Hey, it's OK," Cyborg cooed, pulling her into one of his 'famous' hugs. Amber melted. Nothing felt as safe as being enveloped in a massive pair of consoling arms. His metal chest felt cool against her hot face. Amber brushed back the tears, and gratefully returned the gesture. Liability or not, she was loved here.
"Aaaam I interrupting something?" a cocky tone floated from the doorway. The pair broke apart, blushing. Robin leaned casually against the doorframe, a smug smirk plastered across his masked face. Cyborg sweat-dropped.
"Shouldn't you be yackin' warfles with Beast Boy?" he scowled.
"What!" Amber shot him a look that said he had better be joking. He hadn't mentioned her BB being sick.
"Now I'm sure he's fine," he threw his hands up in surrender, "Just a little lemon fizzy and some crackers he'll…" Cy's stomach interrupted loudly. Robin's smirk widened to a grin.
"Long time till lunch, Cyborg."
"Oh, like you actually ate it," he shot back, punctuating the point with Robin's own stomach growling. Amber laughed. The pair was just fun to watch.
"Come on guys. I've got a couple of Powerbars with your names on 'em." Amber went to depress the open button on the doors. She was brought up short by a gloved had gripping her elbow.
"What the hell is this?" Robin voice was quiet and deliberate, "What the hell happened?" Concern bled through the harsh question. Amber went stiff. Robin's change from cocky Boy Wonder to forbidding commander was chilling. His back was ramrod straight, his shoulders squared. Every visible feature of his young face was sharp and unyielding; narrowed, white eyes demanded she answer. To see this side of him was comforting and disturbing. The condition of her arm would be complicated and sensitive to explain.
Flashing red lights blared to the sound of alarms and groans. The awkward tension eased.
"This can wait," Robin said dropping her arm. Cyborg let his muscles release.
"Yeah, breakfast too."
"And a shower," Amber grimaced. Now she really did feel nasty.
"Later. Titan's, GO!" and cocky Boy Wonder was back, sprinting down the hall in a blur of obnoxious color.
Cyborg rolled his eyes, "Does he really have to say that. Like we don't already know from the blazing lights and sirens that we have a mission."
"Is my collar ready?" Amber's face went neutral, watching after the retreating Robin.
Cyborg looked at her with a measured pause, "It isn't juiced. It's ready, but it will need charging."
"Guess I shouldn't have left it where silky could get to it," she grinned slightly, "It's in your workshop?"
"Yeah, top drawer on the right. Charger's on the work bench, behind the candy wrappers and chewed pencils."
"I'll catch up."
"Ok, but hurry. It's just not a party with out you."
Cyborg ran to catch the others, turning out of sight around a corner. Amber stood in the center of an empty training room alone.
"Yeah. What's a party without the team nurse?"
(Finish…for now)
(A:N)
Yeah, I'm sorry, waiting sux. The whole conversation with Cy was like pulling teeth.
Now, I know some of you have a thing against OC's, but I kinda had a problem pairing Slade with a girl that hasn't fully finished puberty yet. So I didn't use Terra (who's dead and just makes things more twisted), but Amber should be pleasant enough. If she starts seeming too Mary-Sueish, just give me a swift kick in the ass. I hate Mary-Sues.
Next chapter's going to be fun, so it will be quicker in the coming. Review if you like it; review if you don't like it. So I know what I'm doing right…or not so right. KISSES!
P.S. Anyone want a clubbing scene? Yes? No? Anyone?