5. For Old Time's Sake
The night was pleasantly cool after the heat of the day, full of well-known scents and familiar, whisper-quiet sounds. The large green owl glided over the starry sky, its soft feathers cleaving the air soundlessly, its large eyes darting around, seeking, probing, searching.
The ugliest city in the world can be beautiful at night, when the darkness covers the filth and squalor and the lights shine from below like a Christmas tree, multicolored, some blinking, some moving, some permanent. Even the sounds and smells were subdued; a cool breeze would blow away the stench of smoke and refuse and despair, bringing in the fresh tang of the ocean, renewing both air and hope; the sounds muted and less defined, listening to them like looking through a mist.
His eyes caught something. A commotion in an alley… He swooped down, senses alert, body tingling with barely suppressed anxiety, only to feel the almost metallic taste of disappointment again. Just another drunken brawl. He flew silently over, making sure there were no knives or broken bottles involved, then soared up to resume his search.
Landing on the roof of an apartment building, he transformed into a panther for a few seconds, sniffing the dark air, ears twitching while listening to the muted sounds of the night. He switched into his human form and pulled the communicator from his pocket.
"Any news, Bolt Bucket?"
"Nothin' yet, Greenbean. Quiet night so far."
"Just when I don't need one!" he grumbled, closing the communicator and putting it back in his pocket.
He scanned the streets below him, his brow creased in a concerned frown.
Not that I expected to run into him right away. He can make himself very difficult to find if he wants to.
Allowing his frustration to get the better of him, he pulled the communicator out of his pocket again, flipped it open and barked into it.
"C'mon, Dick! Answer, for cryin' out loud! It's important! D'you think I'd be calling you just to say hello?"
Static hissed softly back at him. He closed the device angrily and put it back.
His communicator's probably off. Maybe he's not even carrying it any more. It's languishing somewhere in a drawer, together with the few bits and pieces he took with himself when he left.
His frown deepened. His nervous fingers played with the wedding ring on his other hand, twisting and turning it, sliding it up and down.
It's one of the few things I remember from that time. One of the few sensations I felt. Pain, loss, defeat… It almost made me snap out of my… indifference.
Only a small cardboard box of private things after so many years of life together. That's all he took. That's all he had.
He sighed, struggling to fight off the melancholy, but it had been part of him for so long now that he almost forgot how. His hands closed into fists as he tried to awaken anger in himself.
You don't measure these things by how many cardboard boxes you take with you. He had much more. He threw it all away. Why?
He felt the wistful tendrils embrace him again.
What was there for him? Kori was gone, and he was left… alone. I guess I could've understood him, guided him through his pain and sorrow, helped him find a way out. But I was too wrapped up in my own denial to realize it.
He sighed deeply again. His fingers started playing with the ring again.
Rae, my love, I wonder if you ever understood how much you meant to all of us. How much your silent, subdued, calm, but fierce and unwavering friendship bound us all to you – and to each other. It may be that getting a smile to appear on your face was my own, personal Holy Grail, but that doesn't mean the others weren't overjoyed to see it the few times that I succeeded.
His frown cleared as he thought of her. His mind went back over what happened only a few hours ago.
"Rae?" he whispered softly as he entered her room.
A single violet eye shone at him from the bed, a pale, delicate hand lifting towards him, the fingers stretched, almost groping for him. He walked over, laid beside her half-upright on the bunched-up pillows and allowed her arm to wrap itself around him and her head to rest on his chest.
He let her nestle in his embrace, feeling her relax immediately as soon as he touched her, hearing her breathing calm down and her scent lose the note of apprehension she felt rising in her whenever he wasn't around. It was ecstatic and soothing, arousing and calming, joyful and agonizing. It was all his feelings rolled together and lit up, then buried into his chest to burn his heart until it was cold ash.
"Gar…"
His arms curled around her tightly.
"Promise me one thing."
He looked down at her.
"No. Wherever you go, I'll follow."
"Gar, please…"
"Hush."
He felt wetness on his chest. He kissed the top of her head and hummed softly to her.
"Someone's here to see you" he whispered.
She looked up. A spark of anger coursed through her and flared in her eye and her voice.
"You know I don't want anyone to see me like this!"
He chuckled at her. "I see I should keep angering you. It brings back who you used to be."
Her arm clutched him, her eye flashing dangerously. "You want to bring back my rage? My hatred? You want to bring back him?"
He kissed the top of her head again and looked down into her furious eye. He smiled, brushing away her anger. "I want to bring back you. I want to bring back the girl that walked the edge of the abyss unafraid, trusting the love and kindness in her heart; the one that had the strength and courage to fight off her father's influence all her life, the one that managed for years to keep her soul clean of his taint. I want to get you back on your feet, back on that razor's edge where you were all your life. I want you to look over that edge and see the sun rise in the morning, the new day bringing new hope. I want to bring my Raven back. I want you."
The anger in her eye died down and she pressed her face into his chest again.
"Do you think she's… still there?"
"I know she is. I know you are."
She sighed and lowered her head. His hand traced the scar, the fingers touching lightly it until they reached her chin, pulling it up gently until she looked at him again.
"Let's not keep Jinx waiting."
The sounds of sirens wrenched him out of his remembrance. Blue lights flashed, converging to one spot. He shrunk into an owl and flew up, his eyes following the police cruisers.
He reached the bank at the same time as the cops. The criminals were already bagged up in nets hanging from the streetlights, as if a giant spider had wrapped them and left them there for a late night snack. He chuckled and looked around.
He unfurled his wings and soared up, following a shadow swinging over to a roof. Nightwing was difficult to track, his dark uniform losing itself in the murkiness, his movements quick and precise yet flowing and stealthy. He overtook him and flared his wings as he landed a few feet in front of him. Surprised, Nightwing tensed into a defensive posture and then relaxed as his eyes recognized the coloring of the bird landing in front of him. Garfield resumed his shape.
Nightwing frowned at him. "What is it?"
Changeling cocked his head to the side, as if surprised by the rudeness.
"Good evening to you, too."
"If I wanted to chit-chat with any of you, I would pay you a visit" Nightwing said coldly, replacing his weapons back into his utility belt. "I'm busy, if you don't mind."
"I do mind."
Nightwing's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, waiting for Changeling to speak.
"I need you back at the Tower" Changeling said matter-of-factly.
"Still the jokester, I see" Nightwing snorted, then pulled out the grapple gun and pointed it at a distant roof. "See ya around, I guess."
Garfield gripped his arm, staring into his mask.
"She's back."
The grapple gun went down slowly. A few seconds of silence passed.
"Don't lie to me!" Nightwing hissed between his teeth, lifting the grapple gun again. "She's gone. I can't feel her any more. You're lying, trying to get me to go back to the Tower, to convince me to join you again."
Changeling swept the arm with the grapple aside and moved to stand in front of him. "I'm not lying. She needs you, Richard. Please."
Nightwing pushed him back in disgust, his voice hard and cold. "I thought you loved her, Gar. I thought you, of all people, would have respect for her memory. I see I was wrong. Let me go."
Not even Nightwing's lightning reflexes could have detected, let alone blocked or avoided the backhand slap that exploded on his face. He staggered back, lifting his hand to his stinging cheek, staring in amazement at the maddened Changeling. His mouth was twisted in a snarl of rage, the fangs protruding dangerously, the hands bent into claws, the pupils two small black dots in an ocean of green fury.
Richard's hand removed his staff and let it spring into its full six-foot length, but Garfield's anger was ebbing away already.
"I'm… sorry" Changeling said, the words forced out of a slowly relaxing throat. "But you shouldn't have said that. Self-control was always her thing, not mine."
The staff collapsed and went back into the belt.
"If she's… If what you say is true, how is it that I can't feel her?"
"Long story. Now follow me and let's get you to the Tower."
"I'm not going back there, Gar."
Changeling looked at Nightwing coldly. "You are. Of your own free will, or against it."
Nightwing's eyes narrowed again. "What's going on? What are you not telling me?"
"I told you, it's a long story. Vic will fill you in. Please."
His hand gripped Nightwing's arm again, tried to pull him away. He resisted.
"Wait. Is Kori there?"
"She's coming back from Tamaran. She'll be here in a couple of days."
Nightwing tensed, his feet planting themselves firmly onto the concrete surface of the roof. "I'm not going."
Garfield fought back with difficulty another surge of anger. He glared at Nightwing, trying to keep his voice calm and reasonable.
"I need you, dude. Raven needs you. After me, you were the closest one to her, even more than Victor. You were her friend, her brother. You know that. Doesn't that mean anything to you any more?"
Richard's gaze dropped. "I can't face Kori. I can't… afford to see her again."
Changeling's eyes widened in understanding.
"It wasn't Raven" he breathed, his voice soft, almost disbelieving himself. "It was you. All this time I thought that we broke up because of Rae, but it was you! I was… I was so wrapped up in my dreamworld that I didn't realize it!"
He stared at the suddenly silent, motionless Nightwing. He took a small step closer and leaned forward, into Richard's face.
"You were so scared… so terrified by what happened, by the way it affected me, that you pushed her away. You were the one that made her give up and go to Tamaran. You couldn't bear the idea of Kori getting hurt, and you had me as a daily reminder of the agony you would have to go through if anything ever happened to her. You were… a coward."
Nightwing remained silent and motionless, except for his fists that were clenching and unclenching slowly. The eyes behind the mask were unreadable, the face an expressionless carving in hard rock.
Garfield passed a hand over his brow, pulling back. "Sorry, Dick. I shouldn't have said that. It's not true, I'm just… worried about her. I'm sorry, please, don't get angry at me. Don't let Rae pay for my mistake. Please."
"Tell me what's wrong" Nightwing said in a flat, tight voice.
"I… prefer Vic to tell you when we get there."
Nightwing stepped closer and gripped his shoulder.
"What is it, Gar?"
He looked down, trying to keep his voice emotionless. His jaw muscles hurt, his throat was closed, his breath labored as if he had run a hundred miles. His hands shook. He bunched his fists, trying to control it.
"She's... not well. Vic says she's got… less than a year left."
He felt Nightwing's breath catch, the hand on Changeling's shoulder now squeezing it painfully. Richard's grip slowly relaxed and he spoke.
"Sorry, Gar. Didn't know it was that – it was so important. I'll be there."
"Thanks" he whispered. They both lifted their heads, startled, as a soft but insistent buzzing came from Garfield's communicator and a device on Nightwing's belt. They studied the incoming information, frowning.
"Overload" Nightwing groaned. "Why now?"
Suddenly Changeling grinned at him. "Need a temporary sidekick?"
Nightwing grinned back. "For old time's sake?"
Changeling nodded. "For old time's sake."
Nightwing's grin widened and he clapped Changeling on the back. "Titans, go!" he said softly as they ran off together to meet their opponent.