6. The End of the Beginning

"Nothing serious" Cyborg said without being able to keep a note of concern from his voice as he carefully bandaged Changeling's back. "Some second and third-degree burns, but only superficial. You'll probably have some scarring left, though." He frowned as he said it, his mentioning of scars immediately reminding him of what he did not want to think about. Of what he had to think about. "You two could've called the rest of us, y'know" he continued gruffly, trying to smother the feeling.

"It was just Overload" Changeling grumbled, his mind elsewhere. "I had to keep him busy while Dick threw a grounded net over him."

"Y'all look like you've been 'keeping him busy' by having him break out the barbecue" Cyborg growled back, finishing his bandaging.

Changeling grinned at his friend, lifting his right hand and rotating it, opening and closing the fist. "It'll heal, Rust Brain. Just like this."

Cyborg's hand grasped his shoulder, his voice still quiet but with an obvious note of anger in it. "An electric bolt could've stopped your heart, Grass Stain!"

Garfield looked away. "There ain't much left to stop" he whispered almost inaudibly.

Cyborg's audio receptors were sensitive. The hand on Changeling's shoulder tightened its grip to a painful level as he snarled his response. "You may not care about yourself any more, but do you have any idea what it would do to her?"

Changeling paled, then blood rushed to his face. "I morphed into a dinosaur! It would take a lot more juice than a bolt from Overload to kill me!"

Cyborg fought down the desire to shout at him. He forced his voice and his words to be calm and reasonable. "You're two years behind in training, Greenbean. Don't take unnecessary chances. Please."

Shame ate at Changeling. He knew he screwed up, but an unreasoning rage still had him in its grip. It was unfair, they had given so much, sacrificed so much… He took a deep breath and buried it all deep into himself. It would not help, not now.

"I know. I know why I did it, also" he finally said, looking at Cyborg. "It took me back, like it was before, when we fought together. When we were all… when she was…"

"The past is gone, Gar. We need to think of the future" Cyborg said softly.

Garfield nodded, unable to speak. He rose, put on his Doom Patrol uniform, touched Cyborg's shoulder with a grateful hand and left the infirmary silently. He didn't see Cyborg's wistful smile that followed him as he walked out, or hear his voiceless sigh.

"Like before…"

It was like before.

He felt his eyes behind the mask sting.

We worked perfectly together, he thought. All that training and all those years that we fought side by side, they can't be just swept away. He knew exactly what I was going to do, I knew exactly how he was going to act.

He sighed deeply.

And then he just had to go for a stupid, childish stunt. Just like he always did. Just like before.

He remembered the mixture of concern and – shamefully – gladness that he felt when Garfield morphed into a green triceratops, only to receive Overload's bolt, keeping the monster's attention on him and allowing Nightwing to cover it with superconductive, grounded netting that sucked out all of its electricity. He remembered how he had already opened his mouth to chew Gar out for his carelessness, just as the painful familiarity of the situation fell on him like a ton of bricks, leaving him standing there, motionless, mute.

He ran his fingers through his hair.

Was I really a coward? I thought I was sacrificing myself for Kori's sake, but was I? Was I really trying to spare her the pain or was I just running away from my own fear, too scared to face it? Is Garfield right?

He stood up and walked around the Ops room, his fingers touching the furniture and equipment, trailing alongside it, feeling the well-known contours again, knowing every bend and nick.

The door hissed open, letting Changeling in. He greeted Nightwing with a grin.

"Hey. Sorry to keep ya waiting."

"No problems. What does Cy say of your burn?"

Changeling's grin widened. "He reamed me out for being careless and bandaged it. No big deal. His words hurt more than Overload's bolt."

Nightwing chuckled. "Still your Big Bro, isn't he?"

Garfield's eyes clouded and the grin dropped off his face. "I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for him" he said quietly. "He… held me together."

Richard was thankful that he had his mask on. That was my job, the thought seared though him. He wondered if Garfield implied the rebuke intentionally.

Probably not, he mused. I'm just good at blaming myself, seeing things that others don't.

"Y'know, I kinda expected you to give me a good dressing-down. Like you used to" Changeling said, his grin appearing shyly again, still apparently unaware of the effect his words had on their once leader.

He cleared his throat, seeing that Nightwing was not replying. "I'm gonna go check how Rae's doing. Vic will bring you the files, so you'll know what to expect" he continued, his face darkening into a frown again. "I'll bring her over in an hour or so."

Nightwing nodded and grunted. Changeling left the Ops room, barely glancing at him, consumed by his renewed concern for Raven.

He certainly didn't mean any of that as an accusation, Nightwing thought. But I couldn't help feeling them as such. I was their leader, after all. It was my responsibility.

His jaw set. He pushed the anguish from his mind.

I have a job to do. No more moping, no more running away.

She was sitting up, propped on the pillows, clutching the big, ugly felt chicken close to her. He went over and sat beside her, taking the toy and putting it down beside the bed.

"Do you have to leave for so long?" she whispered as he wrapped her arm around him and put her head on his chest. "I'm… I don't like it when you're not around."

"Is my terrible half-demon so afraid to be alone?" he said teasingly, glad to see a spark of red flash in her eye.

She saw his smile and relaxed, her anger evaporating as she understood what he was doing. She gave him an affectionate smile and shifted a bit to embrace him better, allowing herself to feel happiness for the first time since… an eternity.

He held her close and buried his face in her hair.

"It tears my heart out when I leave you" he confessed, his voice muffled. "But I have to do it." He gazed at her as she lifted her head to look at him. "I brought Richard."

She lowered her head on his chest again. "Please, Gar, I don't –"

"I know. But they're our friends, and they care as little as I do about how you look."

She gripped him tighter, silent.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against her forehead, over the jewel. She shivered. His hand pulled her chin up.

The touch of his lips was gentle, hesitant, almost afraid. She wanted to pull back, but she was not able to. His lips pressed a little harder on hers, his breath smelling of almonds and berries. Her eye closed, her other senses sharpening unbearably, the accelerating thumping of his heart deafening her, the warmth of his body so close burning her, his wild, animalistic scent around her, the electrifying but strangely comforting feeling of his lips on hers…

Her mind slowly blanked out, releasing the grip it had on the world, uncaring for anything except to feel the touch of his lips, the gentle probing of his tongue, the slight scrape of his fang, the soft caresses of his hands. She felt the waves close over her head, just like so many times before, as she let herself drown in his love, forgetting about everything else, focusing only on feeling him and listening to him and touching him –

You were always just a common slut, dear daughter.

Her eye flew open and she gasped, pulling back, ashamed, terrified of what she almost did.

Her hand tried to push him away as she clawed and fought, desperate to get out of his embrace. His arms tightened around her. He could see and smell and hear what was happening to her and he spoke to her gently, calming her fears, soothing her turmoil.

"It's all right. It's OK. That's your father speaking. Don't listen to him. I love you. Don't worry. I love you. I won't let go. Stay. Be with me. I love you."

Her panic subsided and she relaxed slowly, the crooning drone of his voice and his gentle fingers going through her hair making her fear ebb and her shame return to where it was buried. Her breathing slowed down and she sighed deeply. Her eye felt moist.

"I'm sorry" she said quietly.

"No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have…"

She put a finger to his lips.

"I may have destroyed him" she said, the pain in her voice making him wince. "But his influence is in me. He has… sullied me, tarnished me. It will take some time to cleanse his filth from my soul."

The unspoken words burned between them.

Time that we do not have.

Forcing herself to ignore it, she gave him a quick kiss and nestled closer in his arms.

"Just hold me for a while and then let's go meet Richard."

Raven felt tired. Her ravaged body could not keep up with the demands her mind and soul were placing on it, but she forced herself to sit and listen through yet another séance of fruitless searching for options. She shot down all of Nightwing's suggestions with a feeling of almost perverse satisfaction. She realized that it was again the influence of her father that made her react so and tried hard to push it away from her mind, trying to focus on the good side, seeing her friends gathered around her, doing their best to help her. A sense of peace finally crept in, but it also brought exhaustion.

Both Nightwing and Changeling sensed it. They looked at each other and exchanged nods.

"I'll take Rae to her room" Garfield said. He scooped his wife in his arms and carried her out of the Ops room. Four pairs of eyes watched them leave.

"It's late. Let's call it a night, Wally" Jinx said, getting up and offering her hand to Kid Flash. He grinned at her and took it, springing up from the couch.

"Now y'all just keep it quiet, willya?" Cyborg drawled, a smile appearing on his face. Jinx sent him one of her trademark smirks, turned and left the room with Wally in tow.

"Those two…" Nightwing chuckled.

"Worse than Gar and Rae?" Cyborg asked quietly, looking through the panoramic window. He turned his gaze to Nightwing, his eye calm, his face expressionless. "Worse than you and Kori?"

Richard's hand went to his face, peeling off the mask, crumpling it between his fingers as his fist clenched. Cyborg watched him, silent.

"Gar said she was coming" he said hoarsely. It was both a statement and a question.

"Late tomorrow or early the day after that" Cyborg answered neutrally. Nightwing smiled painfully, understanding. His friend could not decide if he wanted to comfort him or shout angrily at him. He lifted his eyes and met Cyborg's gaze.

"Thank you."

Cyborg shrugged. "What for?"

"For doing my job."

Cyborg looked out of the window again. "Someone had to."

He squeezed his eye shut. He didn't want to rub it in, but it tumbled out of his mouth before he was even aware of it. He opened his eye again and looked at Nightwing.

"I didn't turn out to be so good at it."

Richard shook his head. "Not much you could've done" he said to the floor. "I didn't leave you with too many options."

"True. But still…"

Nightwing smiled and looked up. "You kept Gar alive."

"He's my lil' buddy."

Cyborg continued looking through the window. Nightwing looked down again. Cyborg's head lifted and he looked at the ceiling, as if listening to something. He stepped over to the console and typed a set of commands into it.

"Leo's here."

Nightwing frowned, in spite of himself. Cyborg saw it. He strode over and bent to bring his face closer to Nightwing's, his voice hissing softly through his teeth.

"He's here because of Raven. He's her friend. I don't give a damn if you're jealous of him or not. If you start a fight with him, I'll finish it. Is that clear?"

Richard's brows went up. "Do you really think I'd do something like that to Rae?"

"I don't know what you would or wouldn't do any more, Richard" Cyborg said coldly, but he pulled back and his glare softened. "Just don't do anything stupid."

Nightwing snorted, then sighed. "I think I used up my entire lifetime allowance of stupidity."

Cyborg's huge hand went for his shoulder and squeezed it. The elevator dinged quietly. They turned to the door.

It sighed softly open and Red Star's large frame pushed through. He strode straight for Cyborg, embraced him in a bear hug – he was only an inch or so shorter than the half-robotic giant – and kissed both his cheeks soundly.

"Victor Silassovitch! It is good to see you, my friend!"

"Ugh!" Cyborg said with revulsion, trying to wipe his cheeks. "Do you have to do that every time?"

Red Star chuckled. "You Americans and your strange customs! I am not… what is word? Hitting on you? Just greeting you warmly, like two friends should!"

"Yeah, well, next time keep it down to a handshake, willya?"

With another chuckle, Red Star turned to Nightwing. "Richard Ivanovitch! I am glad to see you!" he offered Richard his hand.

Nightwing fought off a twinge of unease and allowed himself a warm smile, grasping Leonid's hand in a strong grip. "Good to see you too, Leo! How was your trip?"

"Long and anxious" the Russian said as he walked to the couch and lowered himself on it. "But I am not here to talk of me. How is Raven?"

"Unchanged" Cyborg said, his voice flat. "Do you have any news?"

Red Star sighed deeply. "None good. My people are still looking at files Garfield Markovitch sent, but so far they all agree that there is nothing that can be done."

"Tell them to keep looking."

A smile appeared on Red Star's face, but his brows came together. "I did that already."

"I'm sorry, Leo" Cyborg said, looking away. "I didn't mean –"

Red Star waved his apology away. "No need to say sorry. We are all on edge."

"We are. Maybe we should all get some rest."

"That is good idea. Where is my room?"

"It's the same you used last time. I'll take you" he said and rose. Red Star got up, nodded to Nightwing and followed Cyborg out of the Ops room.

Nightwing remained sitting on the couch. He closed his eyes, tried to order and systematize his thoughts, to classify and pigeonhole his feelings, to break it all down, analyze it and rebuild it back.

It didn't work. It never did.

He shook his head to clear it, got up and went to his room.

Changeling had to sleep fully clothed, same as last night. Raven's hand grasped his uniform again, falling asleep in his arms while he carried her to her room, and he was unable to pry it open and release himself without forcing it and waking her up. He sighed softly, grinned into the darkness surrounding them and made himself comfortable beside her, kissing her forehead lightly. He soon drifted off to sleep himself.

Morning found them in much the same position, sleeping on their sides, his arms around her, her hand clutching at him. She was laying on her insensitive left side, so she suffered little discomfort, but she realized he would be having pins and needles all over from being in the same position for such a long time. The thought of her causing even such a minor unpleasantness to him was enough for her grip to relax, her fist to unclench, her hand to release him.

He didn't move, except to tighten his grip on her. Thinking quickly, she gently pushed his left side away and made him lie on his back while she pillowed her head on his shoulder and placed her hand on his chest, feeling the slow rhythm of his breathing and the beating of his heart. A deep satisfaction suffused her. She was able to return a tiny grain of care and loving for everything he did for her. It made her feel less… inadequate.

I don't deserve him. I don't deserve his love, nor the friendship of the others, nor their affection, compassion and care. I'm just… not good enough.

Suddenly her lips pressed into a thin line. Her eye glowed in anger and defiance.

Shut up, father. Go away. Leave me. Chew the dregs of your miserable existence by yourself. Suck the bitterness of your empty soul on your own. I will not join you. I will not be like you. Ever.

The feelings of weakness and insufficiency left her. She sighed softly, again able to feel the joy of having him close. It was a hard, heavy feeling, weighing on her soul, making her eye burn. She lifted her gaze without moving her head, looking at his face as he slept, trying to engrave it into her memory and never forget it. His heartbeat echoed in her mind, his warmth enveloping her. She felt tears slowly coursing down her face, but she sensed that a part of her father's taint was being washed away with them. It would take a lot of tears, a lot of pain, a lot of suffering to eradicate it completely, but it was a start. She remembered a famous quote from a famous man. It was quite fitting.

Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.

She had hope again.

"Sestrenka! I have missed you!" Leonid roared as he lifted her in his hands several feet in the air, like a toy. Garfield winced and stepped forward to restrain the large Russian, but he was suddenly struck by the realization that Leonid's actions were both genuine and premeditated. Red Star was unashamedly happy to see her, that was obvious from the tone of his voice, his breathing pattern and his scent. But he was not going to allow Raven's state and appearance to subdue that happiness. It would only remind Raven of it, and make her conscious of it, and turn a joyful moment into an awkward and painful reunion.

Trust a Russian to know how to fight sorrow, he thought, smiling.

Red Star put Raven down finally, then gently removed her hood. Raven instinctively lowered her head, trying to hide the scar. He put a thick finger under her chin and pulled her head up.

"Do not hide it, voronyonok. It is badge of honor. Wear it with pride."

She frowned at him. "With pride? How –"

"Beauty is not on surface" he cut her off, still smiling at her. "Garfield Markovitch knows so. Your friends know so. I know so. Do not be only one to have problems with this concept."

Her eyes flashed. "How can you say that? I'm disfigured!" she said angrily.

His eyebrows went up. "You are? I do not seem to notice. I see soldier who was wounded in battle, but came out of it victorious. I see price of that victory on your face and your body. I see what everyone here sees, what only a durak could not see. I see mark of resolve, and bravery, and sacrifice."

Raven snorted and rolled her eyes, waving her hand in disgust at Red Star. The smile dropped off his face and his arm lifted, intercepting her wrist, her small, delicate hand engulfed almost completely in the Russian's paw. A fierce frown formed on his face.

"I am soldier, ptichka. I have been in many battles. I have seen friends – good friends – being wounded. Being killed. Some have minor wounds, but they lose their courage and will to live. They wither and die soon. And others – blind, armless, legless – they fight. They snarl and spit into face of Destiny. They do not give up. Our lives, our loves, our friends; they are worth living for. They are worth fighting for. They are worth suffering for. Because world will be sadder place for those we leave behind when we are no more. Ty ponimayesh'?"

She glared angrily at him and wrenched her hand from his grip, but made no move to put her hood back on. Garfield let out a deep breath and hid a grin. He looked around, noticing his friends reacting similarly. Cyborg turned around, his back to them, his shoulders shaking slightly. Jinx's smirk was turning into a grin, Wally was looking with extreme interest at the ceiling and Richard was trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face, the corners of his mouth slowly curling up.

Raven noticed it also, and she pounced on the chance to direct her anger elsewhere, since Red Star appeared immune to it.

"Are you all finding this funny?" she growled at them, her eye blazing. Changeling chuckled, then wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"It is. We are used to you reaming us out. I don't recall anyone giving you a well-deserved dressing-down."

"Well deserved?" she asked dangerously as her eye glowed white. "You allow yourself too much, Garfield!"

He just kept looking at her, the grin still on his face. The glow in her eye died down, the unscarred part of her mouth turning up, a chuckle shaking her shoulders.

"I guess it was deserved" she admitted, then frowned again. "All right, you had your fun. Knock it off already!" she grumbled to everyone and limped to the couch, sitting down on it. Garfield sat beside her as their friends sat around them or went about their business in the Ops room. A new day began.

"I don't get it" Cyborg frowned. "Your back's healing fine, a lot faster than normal, but still far from the healing rate that your hand had. There was a lot less damage. I expected it to be almost fully healed by now."

"Wish I could help you, Rust Brain" Changeling said as he shifted to allow Cyborg better access while he changed the bandage. "I have no idea what makes me tick!"

"Maybe it depends on which form you're in when you receive the wound, or if and how many times you morphed after receiving it, or who knows what else. We should really look into it."

"Let's leave that on the back burner, Bolt Bucket. I have more important things to think about right now" he grumbled as he scratched under his wedding ring.

"How's the hand?"

"Still itches."

Cyborg gave him a strange look, his eyebrow raised. "That's your left hand that you're scratching."

Changeling looked in surprise at his hands. Cyborg was right. It was unimportant in any case. He shrugged, dismissing it. "Then I guess it's fine."

Cyborg grunted, smiled and mussed Changeling's hair. "Don't forget that we have to change those bandages tomorrow again."

Garfield nodded morosely and rose to leave. Cyborg grinned at him. "Can't stay away from her long? Don't blame you."

Changeling looked back at him. "I left her with Jinx. Listen, Vic. I don't want her to be alone even for a second. I want someone always to be with her if I'm not there."

"Good thinking. We'll set up some sort of shift system so she can always be with someone." He gave Changeling a piercing stare. "You plannin' on goin' somewhere?"

"Not if I can help it. But if anything pops up, I'll be all over it."

Cyborg grinned at him, then his face became serious. "Just take care of yourself if you do. Never forget that it would be less than worthless to her if her healing came at a… high price."

Changeling smiled, nodded and left the infirmary.

Even though Raven had rested a while in the afternoon, exhaustion was claiming her again. She fought the drowsiness, treasuring every moment she could spend with her friends. She didn't want to go to her room, not yet, not until she could still force her eye to remain open and her mind to understand what was said. She snuggled more comfortably in Garfield's arms, her eye going from one familiar face to the other, finding comfort and reassurance in the sight.

They all chatted quietly or watched an almost whispering TV. It was a subdued evening, much quieter than what was usual in the Tower. She realized it was for her sake, and the knowledge hurt a bit, but she resolutely rejected the insinuations of her father's influence and instead released herself to the happiness of knowing that her friends cared for her so much.

Cyborg got up and walked to the console, frowning at it and typing a set of commands. He grunted at the result and sauntered over to them, touched Raven's shoulder affectionately and whispered something in Garfield's ear. She could not hear what it was, but she could see Gar nodding his head, without changing the rhythm of his breathing. It was probably nothing.

Sleep crept over her as the nestled in his embrace, the feeling of safety and peace, of being loved and cared for filling her soul. She fought the fatigue yet for a few moments, but soon she lost the battle and her breathing became softer. Garfield noted it immediately and allowed her a few minutes more for sleep to strengthen its hold on her, then caught Jinx's eye and rose, carrying Raven's slight weight easily. Jinx gave Wally a quick kiss and followed Garfield to Raven's room.

After a quick whispered exchange, they laid Raven on her bed, with Jinx beside her to keep her company if the need arose. Changeling left the room and went straight for the Tower's roof. Once there he sat on the ledge, his feet dangling over the rim.

The sky was cloudless and the night calm. He looked up, searching for a specific star. It was easy to find, being the second brightest in the Northern sky, and it had been shown to him previously. He remembered it clearly. The constellation was Lyra and the star was called Alpha Lyrae, better known as Vega. Impossible to see from the Earth, several planets orbited the star, but he was interested only in one.

Tamaran.

He watched and waited, patient. It was quite a while before he could discern a small green star among all the others. He focused on it, nodding to himself in satisfaction as he noticed it slowly getting bigger and brighter. Knowing that it was still early, he continued to wait calmly.

Cyborg showed up on the roof and strode over to him. Garfield simply looked at him and pointed with his hand. Cyborg looked up, saw the green twinkle and smiled. He patted Garfield's shoulder and left the roof, leaving the changeling alone again.

The green star was quite bright now. He smiled to himself. His waiting was almost over.

After a few minutes, he stood up, his eyes never leaving the green star as it grew ever brighter. His face split into a happy, welcoming grin as the star finally resolved itself into a tall, fiery-haired girl with blazing green eyes that landed softly on the roof, her smile as radiant as the glow from her eyes.

"Hi, Kori. Thanks for –" he started saying, but she enveloped him in the hug whose power he remembered well, his ribs bending under the pressure, the air forced out of his lungs. He would be nursing some nasty bruises tomorrow. He didn't care.

He hugged her back as hard as he could. She still smelled of peaches and strawberries, and also of some Tamaranian fruit – zorkaberries? He could hear the excitement and gladness coursing through her, sense the joy and happiness that she always embodied, feel the boundless optimism and enthusiasm that saw them all through many dark times. It washed over him in an unstoppable tide, sweeping away all vestiges of his self-control, snapping the iron-hard grip that held his suffering as if it was a rotten twig, ripping open all the wrappings that kept his anguish drowned, chained and subdued. Tears filled his eyes and his head fell on her shoulder, sobs wracking his body and convulsing his chest, dragging out all the bitterness, sorrow and despair that had gathered inside him during the last two years.

She held him in her tight, viselike grip until it all went out, like pus from an infected wound. She didn't move, didn't speak, she just was there, a pillar to lean on, a friend in need.

He pulled himself together, stammering "I… I'm sorry, Star, I…"

Her glowing green eyes held him in their gaze.

"You do not need to do the apologizing, friend Garfield. There is none of the shamefulness to have the concern for the one that you love. The greatest warrior must sometimes do the letting go of his sorrow and hurt."

He nodded and stepped back a bit, studying her with a smile. She was taller than he, just as tall as Nightwing.

"You look good" he told her as he noticed the changes on her face, lines of heavy responsibilities and sleepless nights, tiny creases of smothered sorrow and regret, jaw muscles bunched in resolve and hard determination.

"I give you much of the thanks for the words. How is friend Raven?"

"She is sleeping now. Her… state tires her quickly."

"It is understandable. Have you been getting enough of the rest?"

His smile widened. "Of course I have. As long as I am with her, I can sleep well."

Her smile was just as dazzling and joyful as he remembered. He felt a warm feeling in his chest and a lump in his throat. He coughed a bit to clear it, then offered her his arm.

"Let's go say hello to the others."