Sixteen - First Partner

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Clamping her palms to her ears only did but so much. Vivid dreams were apart of Bee's routine since arrive at the HIVE. They weren't really a nuisance, usually nonsense. And when she dreamed of Paola and Yasmina, of Uncle Drew and her cousins, Charlie and their grandma, well, that -

It left her heart sore in the morning, but it was a nice reminder that it still worked.

Tonight, lost in the dream world, the thuds were a fist pounding on a window that didn't exist and she felt herself drifting towards it.

Hands grabbed for her and twisted her limbs every which way.

"No!" she gasped, fighting to free herself.

Something cold and solid slammed against her head, sinking her further into this nightmare.

When she pried her eyes open, all she saw were shadows, seven of them, circled around her.

The tallest lifted her by the neck and flung her into the air. Rough gravel and jagged rocks pierced her skin. A gash erupted down her back and her ribcage ached with newly-formed cracks.

"Help…" In the darkness above her, something was sailing down toward head. A pillar.

With a struggle, Bee threw herself to the side, and a powerful crash sounded behind her. She rolled too far and fell over the edge of a cliff…until a hand reached out and grabbed her.

She looked up to see the impassive face of her father. Flame licked her feet. She cursed, twisting away from them trying to save her soon-to-be-burning flesh.

"Dad! Help!"

The roles were reversed now: her hanging by a thread while her father watched, emotionless.

Karen lacked the strength to scale up his extended arm, which kept her hand in a death grip, taunting her.

"I'm sorry!" she gasped. "I'm sorry!"

Her words were useless.

Her father let go.

As the flames descended on her, her eyes snapped open, and she sat up in bed.

Her keen eyes darted around the room, passing over her dresser across from the bed, the tiny closet at the foot of her bed, and the door centered in her boxy room. Just to the left of her headboard was the wall where a window, or even a poster would be. It remained blank. Nothing was here.

Shaking slightly, she pulled her scratchy sheet around her. Her eyes closed, pretending everything was normal.

A voice whispered in her ear: "Submit."

And the cold metal banged into her head again. Only this time she was fully awake.

"Submit," the robotic voice repeated.

It felt like an extra layer of skin was forming under her own, like she was being explored, learned, studied. Like she was a blueprint meant to be read.

Her mind zoomed through the events of the last few weeks: of class competitions, of missions, of scores. All the important stuff. She dwelled on the details - how the protein packets at lunch had been gross all week, Blood's request to test her size manipulation in the lab again, possibly pushing her limits. And her secrets: the life she knew before, her family (for the love of God, why twice in one night?), and the thoughtful look in a certain pair of black eyes. A pitying look.

No! We don't think of this. We don't.

"Submit." The voice went from robot to honey.

Bee forced her eyes to open. Breathing raggedly, she crawled out of the bed. The tile was just what she needed to bring her back into reality. When she made it to the door, she struggled to lean against the wall. At least she was standing.

She was not safe here. Not at all.

Never mind her lack of shoes, Bee padded down the hall, as close to running as she could get. Each turn into a new hallway, her urgency grew. She was not looking the other way this time. If Brother Blood deserved her loyalty, she'd prove the Atlantean wrong and shut him up for good.

She always took a deep breath before she shrank. This time, she eased her way under the office door at the end of the hallway. This room was unmarked and very difficult to find, as there were dozens like it. If someone stumbled in, they might not even guess they'd reached the headmaster's workspace. Blood had never even invited her here.

Inside, she marveled once again at the simplicity of the room - so unlike her father's grandiose dressings. This room was even duller than when the Headmistress had occupied it. Empty but for the essentials. No room for play here.

Under the desk, she found absolutely nothing. Great. A wild goose chase. Bee shrunk back to her smaller size, prepared to leave, when she saw it.

On the back panel of the desk was a red circle, no bigger than her minimized fist. She gently poked it, and the circle flipped over, revealing a USB.

Not a bad hiding spot, but not particularly good. Trap, she thought, before dismissing it. It wasn't like she had time to doubt. She plugged the USB into her tablet, the one Blood had passed out to students for easier communications.

The file took way longer to download then she had guessed it would. As the seconds, then full minutes ticked by, Bee wrapped her arms around herself, too afraid to move.

What was she doing? Was she really going to ruin her relationship with Blood over speculation? Some chump, some do-gooder, had told her she had reason to defect over this. Well, she knew Blood was one of the worst villians. That was why she admired him - his need to tear off the largest piece of the pie for himself. It was what she wanted. And now she was going to throw it all away, mess it up like she'd messed things up with the Headmistress. And her father.

She dug her nails into her arm.

Footsteps. No… they were too far away.

Her tablet beeped. She tucked the USB back into its hiding spot and hurried out of the room.

When she was safe under her covers, Bee opened the file.

Oh. My. God.

He was going to...no, that wasn't possible.


The front entrance of the dungeon was blocked off with a red bar. A dozen of Blood's assistants milled about, talking in hushed tones. How odd. Usually just two were on duty, given how rarely someone was imprisoned here. Blood did not keep anyone down here long. It was merely a waiting room before the sadistic punishment fell on your head.

Bee tried to peer around the nearest cloaked member, but the woman glared, straightening her posture. She remembered Jinx calling them all nuns, since everything about them was inscrutable excepting their loyalty to Blood. At least the old teachers had histories and identities, however hidden. To Bee, they were just no more robotic than Blood's henchman.

The huge cloak puffed her chest out. "To class."

"I've got a permission slip." She didn't.

"To class," the woman repeated, her anger sharp as a switchblade.

Bee stepped back. "What happened to Hydran?"

"Traitor," the woman hissed, tipping her head back. Her eyes were black, the pupils large. She looked like a bird of prey going in for the kill.

"Uh…"

Blood appeared, flowing smoothly between teacher and student as if he'd been there all along. "What's all the fuss?" He chucked her gently under the chin, his hand disappearing into the depth of her hood.

The teacher's wrinkled brow smoothed. "My lord, we were combing every corner for the prisoner's possible exit in order to ensure your safety and security."

Our security, thought Bumblebee. Not just his.

Blood locked eyes with her in his peripheral, then turned to his devoted henchwoman. "Clear out." His voice was cold.

The teachers went silent, then filed past Brother Blood and Bumblebee in a single line. The young villainess pressed into the wall to avoid brushing against any of them. They all skeeved her out - nameless faces who wouldn't hesitate to devour her for one misstep.

Stalking ahead of her, Blood's head swiveled to each cell he passed. He didn't seem to be resuming his underlings' work. It all was a show and when his eyes landed on Bee, she braced herself for the scene change.

"What a waste," Blood murmured. "One boy of dozens. Wouldn't you agree?"

Bee pursed her lips. "Can't say I miss him," she placated, striving for neutral.

"It comes as a shock, though. Most students wouldn't miss this opportunity, no matter the chance."

Is that really what you think? she wanted to ask. Do you really believe all people want to be at your mercy?

Instead she slowly entered the dungeon, her words slower still. "I'm not sure he was the right fit," she explained. "He never seemed quite as committed."

Blood smirked as he circled her. "Not like you?"

"No one's like me." Resorting to arrogance, her shield.

"Glad to be rid of the competition, are you?" He leaned down, invading her space. "Who's next to be ousted from the academy?"

"Are you - ? What? No!" Her cheeks burned with annoyance.

Blood laughed, a shallow, papery noise for such a grand person. "I'm kidding, Bumblebee."

"I know."

"And you do know you'll be looking for that connector for the rest of the term."

There was no threat, which was worse.

He caressed her cheek, and she felt a shaking sense of deja vu.

"Take care of yourself," he murmured, voice like pancake syrup. "You are the most important one."

His words were like a blow to the head, a shot through the heart, and a kick in the stomach all in one. Bee felt her eyelids lower and her neck slacken. A bit of peace washed over her. She felt closer to him, wondered why she was so suspicious and cold. He was so kind to her.

Blood dropped his hand and strolled out the door. "Get to work," he calmly commanded.

Only when he was long gone did Bee collapse to the ground, taking in huge breaths of air as she had earlier that morning. She lifted her tongue. Normally, a tiny blade rested there for a multitude of purposes. Today, she rolled around the connector.

The question in her mind for the last eighteen hours resurfaced: Why had she still not given it to Blood?

Why did Garth just leave her with it when he could have pursued the piece before running off?

It was long past time to go.


It was like running from her own shadow.

Bee climbed up on the roof, uniform partially hidden by a nondescript gray sweatpants, the only civilian clothing item she owned. It was pointless and made her cringe when she'd looked in the mirror an hour ago, but what was the point?

All she had was herself, not a single memento of the past as she scrambled to catch the train to her next life. After classes, her eyes had followed Billy, drinking in her last time with him as they walked back to the dorms and he bragged about how great his powers were becoming. She'd wanted to tousle his sandy hair, thank him for all he'd done to protect her in his selfish-dumb-boy kind of way. Instead, she socked him on the arm and promised they'd hang out together on their next day off.

Now, she was never going to see the academy again. But about a mile out from her usual flight route, she felt a bit dizzy, so she stopped in a field outside an oil factory and ate a pear. She started trekking along some train tracks when she felt it.

Just a dull headache at first. After years of injuries, she'd learned to wait out the worst of migraines. (Someone once told her that was masochistic. She couldn't remember who said that.)

The ache spread through her body, but she hadn't even woken up sore. Perhaps yesterday was only hitting her now?

Ten minutes later, she hit a railroad sign and all but collapsed on the tracks.

Far off, a train was coming for her.

Sighing, Bee pushed herself off the ground and spread her wings. Haltingly, she floated over back the way she came, north up the train rail. And just as she'd expected, the aching eased, the pressure lifted off of her. As if resigned, she continued the trip back "home". Bee was shaking, not from the pain, but the anger.

A force field. Blood had built a mental roadblock to ensure no one would run from him again.

How long would she belong to a person like this? Forced to bend others to her will when all she'd wanted was freedom?

(Yes, she'd wanted power, which was why she wasn't in a foster home or something. But not like this. She couldn't clip someone else's wings.)

Her flight crossed over the ocean and she looked out to the east, where the Titans tower stood tall and proud. When she first tested her wings, months and months ago, she used to curl up mentally. The sight of it made her feel small and transparent. Her selfishness for the path she'd chosen in life was never more apparent when she looked at the tower. She could block out the past, but not the future - the gravity of her decision hit her like a ton of bricks. That tower was the new her - bigger than anything and deserving of the space it took up.

Dropping down into a city festival, she snagged a shirt from a stall and pulled it on as she turned a corner.

She went into a silly-looking pizza joint and sent a text.


Hydran showed up quicker than she expected. In the festival crowd, he didn't look out of place in his sunglasses and blue bodysuit, but it still put her on edge.

"Could you be any more obvious?" she seethed.

He looked around, seeming to stare straight through the other teens ogling him. "I don't wear civilian clothes. They irritate my skin," he shrugs.

She sighed, picking at her pizza. As much as she hated HIVE food, she couldn't eat this. "I looked at the file. Analyzed it again and again since you left. There's probably a lot more details hidden."

"What do you know?" Hydran asked.

"He wants a public call for peace. Collecting super's weapons. Using them as his own in order to force everyone into his cult. No choice."

"I did not remember all of that."

"I gleaned some of it." Because she knew Blood. Now better than ever.

"I worry."

"He can't do that," she mutters into her palm. "He can't give them no choice."

She has been hanging onto her freedom by a thread, always looking for the day where she will be a tool again, a weapon, or a slave. Well she wouldn't be Blood's.

"Hey." Garth - not Hydran, she reminded herself - didn't reach for her, only tapped the table gently. "He won't get to do this."

She shook her head. "I didn't want it to go this far. I didn't know..." But she should've known.

"Bumblebee, it's not too late for you to choose. It never is." He paused. "If you need a place to stay, I could connect you with accommodations, too."

She laughed bitterly. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm ready to fill out a Titans application or even go solo vigilante. I just want to stop Blood from - from - from getting away with using and twisting our minds up."

Garth nodded. He slowly pulled out a communicator. Circular with a T emblazoned on it. When he saw her irritated look, he smiled sheepishly. "You don't have to be a Titan to borrow this."

She rolled her eyes but pocketed it.

"Just say 'Aqualad' and it will ring."

"Not Garth?"

He shook his head. "That's my birth name. I used to assist Aquaman. You know him?"

Aquaman wasn't particularly well-known in the Carolinas, but she remembered some headliners. "Sure."

Aqualad said, "You should go back to the academy now if you insist on keeping your cover."

Her mouth went dry. On one hand, Blood would surely know she tried to run. On the other, what would happen to her if she tried to hide in the little dome he'd put around his students?

"If you're scared…"

"I'm not." She sighed. "I just need to figure out a way to lessen his control on me." If she couldn't destroy the man himself, that is. Otherwise, she'd never get to run away.

Aqualad nodded. "Meanwhile, we can exchange information. Do you have access to any other private documents, computers, spaces, et cetera…?"

"More than most students, but probably less than most of the bizarro-nuns."

"How confident are you about securing everything within the week?"

"Uh..."

"Four weeks?"

She didn't want to stay there too long, but she didn't want to fail. "Not very. He acts stupider than he really is. That flashiness is all a show. You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but he's always two steps ahead. And I've got everyone's eyes on me." It sickened her that she still felt a bit of pride over that.

"Then we'll need a big distraction," Aqualad mused, folding his napkin. "I can't go back in, but maybe...an official Titan could?"

Bumblebee launched to her feet, startling the crowded fast-food restaurant a bit. "No. I'm not going to be a ten-minute hero before you guys throw me in jail."

She was so stupid! Here she was thinking because a Titan felt a little sympathy for her she'd be free to come and go as she pleased. With "good guys", you paid no matter what, no matter how much you suffered already.

"Bumblebee," Aqualad soothed, his face that of an older, wiser man. "It doesn't have to be like that."

She cautiously sat down, but shook her head. "I can't be a puppet or a slave. Not for no one."

"And you have my word. If anyone, Titan or not, tries to persecute you, I will stake my reputation on your honor. You hear?"

She leaned away from the table. "Why? Why would you do that?"

"Because…" He frowned, and she could immediately sense he was struggling to conceal some private truth. "Because it's what you need. Besides, I owe you."

Owing she could understand.

"Very well." She folded her hands on the table, relaxing as the room had starting to mostly ignore their presence. "That would be fine. Send someone in. But they can't know about me."

Aqualad shook his head. "No, I won't reveal my sources. Not until it's necessary for you to take an obvious stand."

Right. Eventually she would have to come forward and out herself as a traitor. She'd have to leave the protection of Brother Blood, a mentor and somewhat friend, and throw herself on the mercy of superheroes she didn't even know.

She couldn't remember when, but eventually, Aqualad left her there, staring at her borrowed communicator. Waiting for instructions.