Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans.
Coyote – Chapter 4
A/N: If you see any Titans' history here that you don't understand, please see the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter.
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The tempo of tower life continued to move and flow over the next few days: perfecting the GRALO, transforming into any small furry animal that would allow Gar to curl up in the empath's lap, getting her used to contact, picking out films for her pop culture education...
"Movie time!" he called out, bowl of popcorn in hand. But she wasn't on the couch. She was nowhere to be seen.
That's weird. She's usually punctual to a fault.
He carried the bowl with him, munching on his snack all the way. Rapping on her door yielded only silence.
"Rave? You there, hon?"
He pushed the door open. The scent of Nag Champa incense permeated the air of the darkened bedroom. Empty. And when did she become such a slob? The bed was unmade, and bits and pieces of her uniform were scattered around the room. A glove here, a boot there. She must have been in a hurry after combat practice today. I must be rubbing off on her.
The usual stack of books on the desk was missing. My little bookworm. Must be in the library.
And there she was, head quite literally buried in a book, fast asleep. Her MP3 player earpiece hung loosely on the side of her face. Its tiny speaker was silent. With great care, he moved it from her ear to the table. Batteries are dead. She must be getting ready for next semester. The open book under her left hand was a history of Native American peoples. Catching up on the new family tree, I see. Under her right was a mostly blank sheet of paper; a pencil was resting between her fingers. Notes? Practicing American grammar? She was shocked when she first found out that Azarathian comma rules aren't exactly what we use … The title "What I Want to be When I Grow Up" was printed in her neat hand across the top of the page. Must be practicing for one of those dumbass end-of-summer essays. I'll bet she never had to write one of those -- Curious, he brushed her hair out of the way. What does she want to be . . . maybe a veterinarian? Could use a physical--
Her answer was a single word:
Alive.
His mouth twisted at the sight of that one word. He reached down and stroked her hair. For her, that one thing might be the hardest thing of all to be.
He just breathed over her for a moment. Time to steal another smooch. He rested his lips gently against her temple.
She stirred. She feels me over her. He gently lifted her face off the page; a deep red line marked her cheek where it had drifted off the book. Her eyes opened as he leaned her face into his chest.
"Well, hello, sleepyhead," he said. "Did you have a good nap?"
She rubbed her cheek in that groggy just-woke-up fashion that was so strange on her face. "I think I fainted," she replied. Her words slurred their way out of her mouth.
"Bad pain moment?" he asked, using their code phrase for the attack of old pains that seemed to come and go with the tides.
She nodded and winced as he tried to help her to stand.
"Well, I've got an empath-sized bottle of aspirin downstairs with your name all over it if you—"
She doubled over, clutching her side and hissing through clenched teeth. He caught her before she could hit the floor. His look of concern was replaced by alarm. The communicator was in his hand before he knew he had picked it up. I need help on this one.
"Vic!" he yelled. "Vic, come in!"
Cyborg's voice came back from somewhere in the garage. "I read you. What's up, green-genes?"
"Meet me in the infirmary ASAP. We have a sick bird on our hands."
"On my way."
He swept her up into his arms and carried her to the elevator. She was conscious but not completely; sweat poured off her forehead, and every step he took produced a low moan from deep within her chest. Reminds me of what happened when we first met Charlie, he thought, walking as fast as he dared. Why does this keep happening? And why is it getting worse
Cyborg was already there, waiting for him. He set her down on one of the beds as Vic started to hover over both of them.
"What happened?"
"I found her in the library. She'd passed out already, and when I helped her up, she started to fall again. She's in pain, Vic."
"Injured?"
"No, remember what she said about pains she's cured staying with her? I think they're starting to resurface." His fingers traced a path across her forehead. "I think they've been trying to for a while."
Cyborg looked at Raven, then Gar, then Raven again. "Can you hear me, witch?"
She grunted a reply and opened her eyes long enough to plead silently with him for help. Her knees curled up to her chest.
"What hurts? Can you tell me where?"
"Everywhere," she hissed, and even that hiss was with great effort.
He looked at Gar. "I'm not sure what to do. If this were regular pain we'd just take her over to St. Luke's –"
"That's the last place an empath needs to be: a hospital. That'll just make it worse."
"Let's see if Doc Rovin does house calls."
"What about Charlie? He might know how to handle this."
"He's a time zone away from here, but I can give him a call. See if he has any advice."
The animals buried in his DNA could sense the agony boiling through her. This has got to stop. It has to. Leaning over her, he placed her hand against his chest. His memories rewound to the canyon and replayed the pain she'd had there. He spoke to her, hoping his words would sneak past the pain. He could hear Vic's voice on the phone in the background.
"I'm still here," he whispered. "Feel me. I'm here." He tried to replace the gnawing worry in his gut with the sheer affection that he thought might help; fear was only going to make things worse for her. When she's like this, she can't shield herself; she's wide open. He had spent enough time with her to know that fact too well. Another reason why a hospital is a really bad idea.
"Okay, Charlie, okay. See you then. We'll do that." He hung up. "We're in luck. He's in San Diego for a conference. He's arranging a chopper flight here and should be with us in about three hours."
"Three hours? What are we supposed to do in the meantime?"
"He's calling Doc Rovin himself with some recommendations. He'll be here in half an hour with some painkillers."
"Did he say what might work for this?"
"Not to me. As long as it's not more of that joy juice he gave her last time. I don't trust that stuff."
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The report Cyborg had been waiting for from S.T.A.R. labs on that very joy juice laid on his mind like the weight of ten T-shaped towers.
I asked them for an analysis right after we got them out of that hyperbaric chamber. Still waiting on it. Still waiting on what else it might do to her. And I won't let him use it again until I know more about it. That Compound 27 is pretty nasty.
He watched Gar watching her. Neither of us can stand to see her like this. But what is going on with him?
His organic brain tapped into his electronic circuits automatically, replaying old situations, times when others had acted like Gar. So protective, to the point of being fierce. Like Wally. Gar wasn't quite there yet, but . . .
Like Wally. Oh, God. Wally. Not again.
Her moans were more intense now; they were starting to melt into low screams. Doc had better get here soon. I can't take this. It's like watching someone die.
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"I don't think I've ever seen anyone soak up that much morphine before it kicked in," Doc Rovin observed as he checked her pulse again. He walked out the door to join Vic and Thunder Horse. "Especially with no visible wounds. Tell me about this again? All this sword'n'sorcery stuff always gets me confused." He leaned against the wall outside the infirmary where they had gathered for a hasty conference.
Charlie crossed his arms and sighed. "It is no 'sword and sorcery', sir, I assure you. To me, it is very natural. She is a healer. She takes on the pains of others. But they are staying with her, and by the looks of things, intensifying." He turned to Cyborg; bitterness stung the edge of his voice. "What are you people doing to my cousin? These are no ordinary pains she's been taking in. She's not some kind of machine, you know. She wasn't meant for this kind of abuse."
"I agree with that," Dr. Rovin nodded. "Next time, I'm not sure the morphine will keep up with that level of pain."
Cyborg took a deep breath before answering. He looked through the door at the empath, who was by now deep in a drug-induced stupor. "Doc, Doc, both of you, trying to stop her from healing is like telling Kid Flash to stand still. We couldn't stop her if we tried. If we're out on mission –"
"Maybe she doesn't need any more missions." Charlie's eyes narrowed. "She is just a child. She won't live long enough to grow up, at this rate."
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He could hear them talking; even with their hushed tones, he could feel the sharpness in Thunder Horse's voice. That one little word in her fastidious handwriting on that one little sheet of paper flashed through his brain: Alive. He shook his head. What do we do now? This is all she knows. This is all she has.
That stale, sterile hospital smell of the infirmary made his heart hurt. She should be upstairs now, sleeping through the credits of the bottom half of a double feature. Not here. He crouched down to the floor and shifted into a cat. The top of the medical bed was an easy jump from the floor. Curling up next to her and purring felt as natural as holding her hand. Right now, it's all I can do.
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"Give me one reason why I shouldn't take her with me right now," Charlie challenged, his nose inches away from Cyborg's.
I do not like this guy gettin' in my face. "She belongs with us. We're her family. She's got no place else to go."
Dr. Rovin held up his hands and slipped through the door. "I'm checking on my patient. Not my fight."
"I'm her family, too," Thunder Horse retorted. "Why else would you call me?"
"Because . . . because I don't know any other empaths. I don't know what else to do for her." Steel shoulders hunched in defeat. "I don't know what to do."
The medicine man backed off. "And you hate to see one who is like your sister suffer," he replied in low tones. Pointing at the sleeping cat with his chin, he continued. "And so does your other friend, it seems."
Steel finger rubbed against metal chin. I know Gar's a caring guy, but this is a bit much. One human eye blinked. It's like peanut butter and mayonnaise. They just don't fit. Even if she doesn't know what she's doing, she must be doing it. He chewed his lip. Maybe it's the pain, making her want someone to care –
He steered the doctor down the hall to where he knew he was out of range of his changeling friend's hearing. "Maybe you should take her, at least for a little while."
Plus, there's what she said about the BRU leader, about how he wanted her to join him. Even his infrared eye twitched at the thought. She needs to be someplace safe while we finish the investigation; he may try for her again.
"Why the change of heart, Stone?" He leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"Girl's not had a vacation in – well, don't know if she's ever really had an extended one. You're right, she needs a break. She's been going on about maybe going to go visit you, anyway. She's got about six weeks before classes start up again. What do you say to this? She goes with you for a month and gets some rest." And Gar gets clear if he needs to. "She's an adult, really. She can decide what she wants to do once she's recovered."
Charlie regarded him with a thoughtful frown. He stood up straight and offered his hand. "Deal. Tonight?"
Steel gently enclosed flesh and sealed the bargain. "Before she wakes up, I'd say. So she can wake up someplace peaceful. Can you get her out on the chopper?"
A nod: "Karen and I can get her whatever she needs. Don't bother packing anything."
"Done. One condition, though."
"Being?"
"No Compound 27. At least until you hear from me."
"But that may be the only thing—"
"Non-negotiable, Doc." And I hope she'll forgive me for this later.
"All right. But what about Beast Boy? He seems kind of . . . attached."
"You let me handle him." He handed Raven's tiny communicator to Charlie. "Give this to her so she can call me if she needs to bite my head off."
"Pilamaya aloh," Charlie replied, accepting the small device. "Thank you very much."
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A/N:
Doctor Rovin is the one who 1) did Bart's knee replacement and 2) took the tissue samples of everybody in BEAST BOYS AND GIRLS. Those tissue samples are the ones stolen by the BRU in "Deeper". I think both DeTroyes and Pliskin MacReady on the RBSU forum have both pointed out that the face of Dr. Rovin in the comic book is based on Geoff Johns' face.
If you've not followed the Titans since the 80's, I guess I have some 'splainin to do about Wally.
When Raven first re-formed the Titans, Wally West (Kid Flash then, Flash now) did not want to join. But somehow, he found a good reason to join. That reason wore a blue cloak and meditated a lot. The Justice League member Zatanna later told him that she had manipulated him into falling in love with her to pull him onto the team. She had done so out of desperation, even though she knew she could never return that love because of her required emotional suppression. He has loved her and hated her ever since, and lots of other heroes have had problems trusting her after that incident as well.
But she had her own reasons for it, as were revealed in Legends of the DC Universe #18 . . . and I'll talk more about that later.