FYI, Slade will not make an appearance in this story. It's not that I don't like him, because I do; it's just because I think if I wanted him to be in the story, I would've put him in earlier on. Now it's kinda too late…so I apologize to all my Slade-anticipating reviewers.
Chapter 8.
There was a tense atmosphere in the air for the Titans the morning after Terra's arrival. And it wasn't because of Terra herself; everyone had made her feel at home once again. It was because of the duty that lay before her that was so troubling.
Thanksgiving was the next day, so when Terra went into the Main Room she wasn't surprised to see Cyborg and Beast Boy peeking into the refrigerator, trying to find stuff to eat for the feast.
The Teen Titans Thanksgiving Feast was a big deal, for everyone that was called a Titan came to the Tower, where they brought out this special table that was really long and elaborate. Cyborg built it himself, but it didn't look mechanic. It looked like it was made by a blacksmith.
Starfire and Cyborg seemed to be in charge of the cooking, Raven with cleaning the Tower up, and Robin and Beast Boy making the invitations and making sure R.S.V.P.'s were done.
What would Terra's role in the holidays be? She didn't spend any during her time with the Titans previously.
Beast Boy heard a shuffle, and looked up from the door of the fridge.
Terra looked up at him, with a grim smile. She was wearing a blue, fuzzy sweater with really long sleeves that accented her eyes perfectly, and the little cleavage she had to its possible effect. She wore blue jeans and clean blue and black Vans.
The changeling gave her a warm smile. She really tried to look presentable, even if it was for a man who no longer considered her his daughter.
He had changed, too. He was in an All-American Rejects T-shirt, torn jeans, and Nike Shox, with red and blue colors.
She leaned against the bar table and grinned. "So, are you two deciding what we're eating tomorrow?"
They nodded.
"Terra, you aren't allergic to any foods, are you? Like, nuts or anything?"
Terra shook her head. "No. I'm not allergic to anything, at all."
"Okay, great. How do you like turkey made? We kinda like to have it blackened, and then we smother it with gravy…" Cyborg almost drooled.
"Yeah, I like it blackened and smoked," Terra replied, nearly laughing at Beast Boy's disgusted face.
"What is wrong with you people!" he sighed, smiling despite himself.
BBB
"I'm not scared," Terra thought aloud as she and Beast Boy approached the Jump City Treatment Facility, "So why are my hands shaking?"
She held up what her long sleeves revealed of her hands, and her fingers were indeed trembling.
Beast Boy grabbed both of her hands and held them in his, placing both by his heart. It felt warm to Terra's touch.
"You feel that?" he asked. "Do you feel my heartbeat?"
Terra flattened her hands against Beast Boy's chest, and she did feel a heartbeat—a very rapid one, at that.
"It's beating so fast," she murmured.
"I'm nervous, too, Terra," the changeling admitted. "But I know we'll be fine. You'll be fine. After all, you are the strongest girl I know."
Terra couldn't help but smile.
"How can you be so nice like this?" she asked. "I feel like I'm never enough for that."
Still holding her hands, Beast Boy carried them up to his lips, where he kissed each finger, then both of her palms. Terra's heartbeat flooded her chest; a sensual chill rising up her spine and rebounding back to her toes. Her breathing became ragged despite herself.
"You are always enough for me," Beast Boy whispered.
With strength and newfound reassurance, Terra and Beast Boy walked through the doors to the reception desk.
"Hello, how may I help you?" the brunette lady asked kindly.
"Hi, I'm here for an Omar Markov," Terra replied.
"He's in room D5, sweetheart."
"…Thanks."
They walked to the elevator, rode two floors up, and found D5 to their right, with MARKOV tacked on the door.
Terra took a big sigh, and knocked three times.
"Who is it?" a deep voice called through.
"Dad, it's me," Terra replied shakily. She bit her lip and breathed again.
The door swung open, and a muscular figure yanked Terra from Beast Boy's grasp into a big bear hug that came off as totally unexpected.
Omar didn't look like a drunk. He had brown hair and a square jaw. He did not have a pot belly to be seen, he was tall and seemed to go to the gym quite often, for he had the bulky arms and narrow waistline of a weight-lifter.
Maybe he really did heal.
After a few minutes upon Terra's tackle, he finally released her and ushered her and Beast Boy into the suite, which was basically an apartment-like complex; it had a kitchen, a bathroom with a shower, and a nice bedroom with a balcony and a cable color TV.
"Sit down, both of you," Omar invited.
Terra sat down on the stiff, Victorian-like chair just across from him, while Beast Boy sat on the couch, watching them. He tried not to look too obvious that his sole purpose was to protect her, but he was scared.
Terra sat up straight, with her hands folded in her lap, eyes on her father. She did not smile. Her eyes lacked joy or light.
Omar sat back, crossing one leg leisurely, smiling. "So, how are you, Terra?"
"I'm fine, sir," she replied quietly.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" Omar asked, his voice a little edgy.
Terra bristled. "Dad, this is my best friend Gar Logan," she replied using his full name, "Gar, this is my father Omar Markov."
Beast Boy shook Omar's hand. "Nice to meet you, sir," he replied.
"Likewise," Omar returned. His tiny black eyes focused on Terra again. "And how are your powers?"
"I have them under control, sir," she replied.
"Good. Have you been to your mother's grave?"
"Have you?"
Omar's jaw tightened as did his fist. Beast Boy kept his eyes on it, ready to pounce. But Omar relaxed.
"No."
"I thought not." Terra gasped slightly. That was the wrong thing to say. "I-I mean, I'm sorry to hear that."
Omar didn't let it go. "Don't you even care about your mother, young lady?"
"Dad, please. I-"
"Don't 'please' me!"
"Dad, I haven't really had the chance to see her grave. It's so far away from here."
"You have enough time to spend with your freak friends, but you don't have time to see your mother's grave? Terra, she possessed your sister element of nature!"
"I know, Dad. I know. I remember her just fine." Terra sighed and rubbed her temples painfully.
Beast Boy was shaking with anger already, and they haven't been there for ten minutes. But he couldn't jump in yet, he knew. If it got too much, then maybe…
"I guess you're too busy hanging over guilt," Omar grumbled. "After all, it was your doing."
Beast Boy stood up. "Shut up! You can't talk to her like that!"
Omar stood up as well. "Nobody asked you for your opinion, Jolly Green Shrimp!"
Terra didn't tell Beast Boy to stay out of this. She didn't tell her father to be quiet and quit acting like a big baby, coming to see her only to look halfway successful in the staff's eyes, seeing that he had family.
"Dad, don't you remember? We discussed this already," Terra explained slowly, so he caught every word. "Mom was sick. She was in pain. She ordered me to relieve her of her pain. That was the last thing I wanted to do, but I also didn't want her to hurt…"
"You had no control!" Omar boomed.
"Killing someone using my powers isn't rocket science, you know," she barked.
"Ha! You admit it! It was easy!"
"I'm not talking about my abilities, Omar! I'm talking about my emotions!"
There was a loud cracking sound as Beast Boy blinked. When his eyes opened again, he found Terra sitting up, eyes wide with her mouth agape, one hand on her cheek. Omar looked angry.
"Don't. Call. Me. Omar," he hissed.
Terra was silent for a few moments, in complete shock, as her face registered. Then, it became resolute. She lowered her hand, revealing the slight bruise. Beast Boy gasped.
"You haven't really been benefiting from this, have you? This facility, the Alcohol Anonymous meetings," Terra murmured calmly. No fear, no anger.
Omar was silent, too.
Terra stood up, and Omar and Beast Boy followed her. She opened the fridge, where she found a twelve-pack of Bud Light. Just what she expected.
She grabbed a can, and held it up, looking at it. "I see that nothing's really changed with you." She shoved it back in, and gave him a calm look. She looked so tiny compared to his height and build. And yet…to Beast Boy…she grew up into a young woman in five seconds.
"Your booze still matters more than your own flesh and blood," she stated.
Omar said nothing.
Terra shuffled past him, and grabbed Beast Boy's hand as she walked out of his room, down the elevator, and into the lobby.
She walked up to the receptionist. "Ma'am, Omar has a twelve pack in his room. You might wanna check it out," she said.
She didn't wait for a reaction. Still holding Beast Boy's hand, she walked through the doors and out into the crisp, afternoon air of November.
They got to the end of the block before Terra stopped walking. She looked up at Beast Boy, whose eyes were sad.
She grabbed him; he grabbed her. For a long time, on the corner of Smith and Valley, they stood like that, two souls with too much emotion at once.
Well, there you have it. Wow, I think I developed some in this chapter here, in my writing…but that's up to the ever-criticizing Balkoth to figure out. He/She always gives the best constructive criticism.
Any suggestions for the next chapter? Somehow I feel like there should be another element besides the Thanksgiving dinner.
