The room was dark. Empty. As large and cavernous as it was, the slightest sound would carry, yet it was silent. Cass shook her head and turned to leave but hesitated at a slight rustle. Glad to see her instincts had been right, she strode purposefully into the room, rounding a stack of crates and coming to stop a few inches from the toe of a dark boot.
"What are you doing?" she asked with an aggravated sigh. The penlight currently focused on a stack of papers shifted, illuminating her irritated expression. Tim bit back a groan.
"I'm reading all the info on…"
"Hiding?" She interrupted. He glared at her, though she wouldn't be able to see in the dark.
"No. I'm reading the information we have on Johnny Warren."
"Looks like you're hiding." He dropped his hand to his side, plunging them back into darkness.
"Well, I'm sorry it looks that way, but I'm…"
"Reading." He had a brief inclination to strangle her, but refrained himself admirably.
"Well I am. I can't concentrate with everyone interrupting me all the time." He said pointedly. If she reacted, he couldn't tell. With a sigh, he hit the switch to the lights. They both winced at the sudden brightness. Cass stood over him, her hands folded across her chest.
"I still say you're hiding."
"Oh for…" He bit out. "Cass, can't I do research without interruption?" She cocked her head to the side.
"No. You called your friends in. Now you won't let them help. Conner wants to break something, Wond…um, Cassie is just confused, and Bart is still hurt because you didn't tell him all this time. They need something to do, but you came here to 'do research' alone." Tim dropped his head into his hand.
"Well…I don't have anything for them to do. I don't even know what we're up against. What was I thinking, calling them in without…"
"You were thinking we need help. And they were the best choice. And they are. Let them help. Explain your theories, your questions. Maybe it will help to have a brain-flood."
"Brainstorm" he corrected absently, glancing up suspiciously when she choked back a giggle. "You did that on purpose" he accused.
"Worked." He reluctantly nodded.
"Ok." She helped him to his feet and watched him as he gathered his sheets of data and reports. "I just…" she gave him a shove towards the door and he went, casting a scowl back at her and muttering under his breath.
The room the other Titans had holed up in was just as large, just as echoing, but much more inviting. The lights were all on, for one thing, and someone had done some shopping, as the crates now had old, soft-looking cushions covering them and there were fast-food wrappers littering the table. And someone had set up a whole computer system…judging from the number of games visible just as desktop icons, he suspected Bart had grabbed his from home and set it up. It really did show some good initiative...
"Tim!" Cassie glanced up from where she was writing in a little notebook. Conner and Bart looked over from an argument they were having, but didn't comment. Tim shook his head at the changes…he'd only been gone an hour or so. He indicated the table and his friends gathered around, eager to get started.
"So? What's the plan?" He'd already explained the situation to them, before taking off to research…or hide, he admitted to himself.
"Well…there isn't one."
"What? Whatdyamean?" Bart scowled at the stack of papers Tim held in his hands. "You've been gone a week…"
"Hour." Bart looked petulantly at Cass as she interrupted.
"Same thing," he muttered. "You gotta know something." Tim shook his head.
"Not really. There's not much information about the artifact that gave Johnny his powers. There are a few theories…" he rifled through the stack, "um…one about it being some kind of ancient weapon…shooting lightning or something. Here's one about the possibility of it being a Kryptonian artifact, providing superpowers like Superman's…oh wait, that one was discounted. Most of the other experts were simply baffled. And, oh. This one suggests a link to the underworld."
"Underworld?" Cass looked over his shoulder, trying to see the papers he held, even though she knew she wouldn't be able to read them fast enough to make any sense of them.
"Yeah, you know. Hell, death, demons, devils, cre…"
"Demons!" She straightened and shot a glare at Bart.
"What?"
"You said it was an expression!" He blinked, trying to remember what she was talking about.
"Ummmmm….oh, yeah. Well, it is." Seeing the others' faces turned towards him inquiringly he insisted again, "It is!"
"No one's arguing with you, Bart," Tim held up a hand to ward off Cass' disagreement. "But what, exactly, are you talking about?"
"The people here said Warren's 'cursed by a demon' and he said it was just an expression." Cass accused.
"It IS!" he insisted again.
"Okok. Calm down, both of you. Cass, Bart's right…it is an expression. But you may have hit on something there." He frowned.
"Well? What're you waiting for? Let's go kick some demon butt!" Tim smiled at Conner's enthusiasm, but shook his head.
"No. I was just thinking… if his powers do come from a demon, we probably need to get Raven in on this." He sighed… one more person he'd have to face…and one who sensed emotions, too.
"Ok. So we call her up and then go kick…"
"Conner." Cassie lay a warning hand on his shoulder. He quieted, but a disgruntled look remained on his face. They all remained silent for a few minutes, the only sound Bart's toe tapping the floor absently.
"So…..we gonna call Raven or what?" It was, predictably, Bart who broke the silence. Tim looke up, blinking. He'd gotten lost in his own thoughts and had forgotten they were all still waiting for his grand plan.
"Uh…oh. Yeah, sure. Go ahead." No big. It was just his life. His…
"What will we do when she gets here?" Cass interrupted his thoughts. Getting irritating, that, he thought. Then again, he knew nothing would get done if he kept zoning out and having mood swings.
"I don't know. Probably the first thing is find out if she can tell us if he really is getting his powers from some kind of demon. Then, if so, what her take on defeating him would be. I'm not exactly an expert on demonology, are you?" He asked the room at large, mostly as a rhetorical question, but half hoping some of them knew something he didn't. When they all shook their heads, he nodded. "Didn't think so."
"Ok, but, Tim…" Conner frowned, trying, for once and in his own way, to be diplomatic… "you've, we all have, tangled with 'otherworldy' things before. What's the big deal? What are we waiting for on this one? I mean, why do we have to wait on Raven?"
"Because this one holds a great and evil power." They all jumped as a dark shadow materialized in their midst, rising above them and then dissipating to reveal Raven.
"That was fast." Cassie muttered. No one else said anything…they were too busy watching Tim's reaction to the new arrival. It was as if they were having some kind of uber-staring contest. Tim, surprisingly, broke first. Sensing Tim's discomfort, Cass bristled and turned on Raven, only to find herself awash in memories…ones she'd just as soon forget.
"I'm sorry!" Raven started forward, he hand out, but stopped at Cass' glare. "I didn't mean…I'm afraid sometimes I can't quite control my own powers…especially in the face of strong emotions." Cass maintained her glower for a moment but grudgingly relented as she could tell Raven was sorry for inciting the rush of emotion and memory. Not to mention, Tim seemed to think she could be the to defeating Warren.
The others had observed this strange byplay in nervous silence. Unable to remain so any longer, Bart burst out, "All right, already! Come on, tell us what you meant, 'a great and evil power'! And what you think we should do to stop him." The tension eased and they all looked to Raven hopefully.
"Well…" she began.
"Robin." There were very few beings, counting some of the worst villains on Earth and beyond, who had the power to drain the blood out of the faces of each of the Titans at once. Tim sighed, rolling his eyes at his teammates' expression as he pulled out his commlink.
"Yeah?" The slight pause on the other end indicated that Batman hadn't appreciated his short tone and Tim figured he'd pay for it later.
"You're needed in Gotham. Now." When Batman used that tone, one didn't argue.
"Sorry, I'm working on something right now." Tim shook his head as Conner nearly had a heart attack at this apparent disregard for his own life. There was a long pause, then…
"This isn't negotiable. You can return to your case shortly. Have Kid Flash get you here. Now." Even Tim realized it wasn't wise to push his luck when Batman used two emphases. He cut the connection with a sharp jab, then turned to his friends.
"I guess I better go. Raven…" he swallowed bitterness, "tell them what they need to know. Hopefully I'll…I'll be back soon enough." Soon enough to actually confront his father's killer, to not simply have delegated the task to his friends. Cass lay a restraining hand on his shoulder, a worried frown marring her brow. "Ahem…anyway. Cass, watch over things here, will you?" He said this last softly, for her ears only, though he knew Conner could hear and would probably take offense. Yet no protest was made, and Cass nodded once, her eyes still troubled. "Bart?" The other boy flicked a look between Tim and the rest of the team, then shrugged. An instant later, they were gone.
"If we were being honest, we wouldn't be here now." Barbara tightened her grip on the steering wheel. It was cumbersome for her to drive, and usually when she was with others, such as Dick or Bruce or Dinah, she relaxed her "don't want to be pushed" attitude and let them take the wheel. Not to mention, they were usually using their vehicles, not hers. But tonight Dick only had his 'cycle, and she was in the mood to be in control…even if it was only the car she was controlling.
"Of course we would." Dick shot her a look…she looked as if she wanted to run someone off the road, and the tone in her voice as she answered his previous statement only lent credence to that idea. Their argument had lasted all the way from the Clock Tower to the outskirts of Gotham…which meant they only had a few more miles in which to wrap it up.
"Oh, come on, we would not!"
"Just because we've left a few minor details out of recent conversations with Bruce doesn't mean we aren't being honest! And…" she paused to wait for him to finish his disbelieving grunt. "And even if it did, we would still be here because you know as well as I do that when he calls we come. Just like little trained monkeys," she added under her breath.
"Yes, but who's to say he would have called had he known the truth?" Dick tried not to grip the armrest too tightly as she took the curve to the entrance to the Manor's drive at full speed. They came to a sudden stop, which would have had the satisfying effect of a gravel spray had the drive been lined with gravel. Instead, she had to settle for a bit of a squeal and the satisfaction of Dick looking rather green.
"I'm to say," she retorted. Dick shot her a disbelieving look. "Come on. You know him as well as I do. He knows what's going on. I may be the 'all knowing-all seeing yadda yadda yadda' but no one…no one…comes close to him on the information market. Therefore, he would call us if he knew what was going on, because he does know and he did call." Feeling satisfied that she had made her point, she moved to open her door and exit.
"Yeah, except you left out the part where he chews us out royally when he calls for what we're doing." Babs sighed.
"Well…"
"Actually, that's probably why we are here now." He glowered at the Manor.
"Thank you, Mr. Optimistic." It took her a while to get herself completely free and by the time she reached solid ground Dick had rounded the vehicle and was standing by…well, leaning against…the car, waiting for her. "On the other hand, did it never occur to you that he may not disapprove of 'framing' David Cain?" Dick appeared to consider this for a second.
"Nope." Well, there went that theory. "Come on, Babs. You know as well as I do that he disapproves of everything, even the things he approves of!" Babs simply raised her eyebrow and headed towards the front door.
"On that completely intelligible note…" Alfred opened the door before she'd even reached it.
"Good afternoon, Miss Barbara, Master Richard."
"Afternoon."
"Hey Alfred." They exchanged greetings as they entered the front hall. Alfred, for his part, seemed happy to see them, maybe they weren't in any trouble after all. Dick began to relax as Alfred led them to the library. Then he saw the suits.
"Well, crap."
To be continued…
