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Ch. 9: Down a Rabbit Hole
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It should have been her winning. Really. It should have been her.
But things were looking a tad bit . . . not good.
She watched from the security room, the annoyance increasing as her shoulders tensed.
Little by little she began to unconsciously lean forward in the leather chair, barely acknowledging the presence of the knocked out mall security guards scattered around her where they had fallen. Her pale hands were clenching into fists of rage and her teeth gnashed together harshly as she let a growl of frustration escape from her throat.
The two Titans were cutting through the small army she had gathered (part of the good deal with Mod) and she didn't have many more left. They were currently in the food court battling and pushing away from the cinema where she had "hidden" their friends.
Things weren't good. And if the other Hive students got a hold of this failure, she'd never live it down. Not to mention the lost opportunity at having her name recognized by the higher ups she was trying to reach.
Her glowing eyes then flickered to the screen where she watched a quick one-on-one between Robin and one of the soldiers. She followed them move for move, her muscles tensing with the thought of battle and her brain trying to read the Boy Wonder's next attack.
It came as a great surprise then, when Robin brought up a faulty punch that ended up leaving a small opening where the robot soldier took advantage and sent the Titan flying back.
As she sat there, watching him struggle to get up with his partner trying to protect him, she realized that the Titans were getting tired. Maybe they hadn't gotten enough sleep that night, or did hard training, or something of the like. But whatever it was, it was giving her the edge she needed right now.
Robin was getting impatient with the clock ticking above his head and his movements were getting both sloppy and reckless.
As for Raven, her spells were letting out small bursts of magic with an extra kick of power behind them. She too sensed the urgency of the moment and was becoming as impatient as her comrade.
And the final conscious Titan, Starfire, wasn't faring too well on her own while desperately searching for the last—Cyborg and Beast Boy.
It was perfect; they had walked into the trap without a second thought. It almost seemed too perfect, too flawless to be true. And yet here she was, watching Robin get thrown into a wall as Raven was driven back in a quick hand-to-hand battle.
Jinx's fingers tingled with fury that melted into the blast of excitement, her hand flexing as she thought of the coming adrenaline rush of her next move. It was all slowly working out in its own fashion for her, falling into place so perfectly that she was beginning to feel the victory in her veins when only moments before she could taste the defeat on the tip of her tongue. Things wouldn't, and probably couldn't, get any better than this for her.
Now was the time for her final strike.
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"Fourteen-"
"Yes, I know!" Robin interrupted Raven, ducking from a swung bayonet. Taking the opening that the British clad toy soldier left, the boy wonder took aim and swung a harsh fist straight into the metal belly, sending the soldier flying back.
"Robin-" He turned to look at the sorceress beside him. She frowned, wrapping another soldier in her black magic and spreading her hands to her sides. The magic followed her moves, mimicking them in a tug-of-war that forced the soldier to come apart into many mechanical pieces that fell harmlessly to the ground.
Her violet eyes locked with his and she jerked her head in the direction where they were supposed to go.
Robin stood there for a moment, echoes of heavy footsteps becoming louder as another fresh batch of soldiers began to appear. He really shouldn't leave her here, but they both knew it was the best tactic. They didn't have any time to waste on elaborate plans with about ten minutes left. But still, he couldn't help the hesitation that was revealed in his expression and refusal to move.
Her face was grim as she watched his internal struggle. Opening her mouth, she was about to rush him into leaving but he beat her to it as his face returned to normal.
"I'll be back."
She nodded, standing in the middle of the chaotic mess that was once the food court as Robin left her with the task of beating the soldiers and a direct order to be careful, to which she readily agreed.
Firing up her magic, she closed her eyes and concentrated on creating some form of tangible fighting substance. Raising her glowing hands, a wall of magic formed just as she had willed, seeming as if someone had built it brick by brick to stand firmly before her. Her arms began to tremble with the weight of the wall but she held firm, her lips forming the words that had long been engrained into her memory.
"Azarath Metrion Zinthos. . . Azarath Metrion Zinthos. . ."
Their footsteps were coming closer. She could feel the way their heavy footfalls pounded harshly on the ground, sending tremor after tremor into her mind's eye and causing her to flinch with every approaching step.
The wall flickered dangerously-sort of like when static went through an unclear image. Feeling this, Raven scowled, pushing forward whatever force she could muster to keep the spell solid. But this added more weight to her already major load and she nearly buckled under the weight.
"Azarath Metrion Zin. . . thos. . ."
They were almost to her. If she opened her eyes she would see how they took their bayonets and aimed at the wall, firing round after round of ammunition that got stuck in her magic like a spoon in jello. There was sweat on her brow from holding the strong spell so long and her arms trembled violently from the pressure, but she refused to give in just yet.
"Aza. . . rath. . . Metri-. . . –on. . ."
It was then her ears caught the sound of their steps and she realized that they were close enough. Gathering her reserves of magic, she mustered what power she could and forced it into her hands.
"ZINTHOS!" Raising her arms above her head, she brought them down together. The wall followed, collapsing into what seemed like a stolen tidal wave that flew up and curved gracefully as it bent to come crashing down on the horde of soldiers that dared to confront her.
True to their name, the toy soldiers fell and broke into piles of scattered cheap metals in shades of reds and blacks. There were mechanical limbs everywhere and bayonets fallen among scattered sparking limbs.
Still, even after such a one-sided victory, there was a nagging feeling like an itch in her mind.
Raven chose to ignore it, if only for a second to allow herself a pause before she would try and rejoin Robin. She was breathing hard, her arms tired from the force she had been controlling and it seemed like the wave hadn't crashed on the soldiers, but on herself. She was down on all fours, her lungs almost crushed by the force of the spell and her arms feeling extremely weak to the point of trembling with the most minimal of her weight. Some of the after-effects of the spells she did hit her harder than others, and now was definitely one of the former.
It was a quick spell but it had its bad points; now she remembered why she didn't use it much.
Well, that and it had been Malchior who had taught it to her. It had drained a lot more out of her than she had originally anticipated, and now she was worried reasonably enough that if more soldiers were to come, she barely had enough magic to hold out while Robin got back. There really was no choice, seeing as she didn't have enough in her to teleport a retreat back to the tower. Heck, she didn't have enough to teleport downstairs!
And maybe that was her mistake.
Because a few moments later Jinx slipped into the food court completely unnoticed. Usually Raven would've felt her aura in a split second, but the depletion of magic left her senses temporarily drained and her body completely defenseless.. She didn't even have a chance to turn as Jinx fired up a quick ball of magic and hurled it at the violet haired witch before her without hesitation.
It took Raven down by utter surprise from behind, forcing her to arch her back and yell in pain as the spell caught the lower of her spinal column. Even through the thick of her cloak and leotard it felt horrid, filling her nostrils with the smell of burnt cloth and flesh while sending white hot pain signals screaming through her frazzled mind.
As Jinx laughed at the display, Raven fell over like a rag doll, trying desperately in her current state to understand what had just happened. Her mind, in a final desperate attempt to spare her the pain shut down completely and left the vulnerable young woman unconscious on the cold tiles of Jump City Mall.
One down, two to go.
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There was fire.
Faces from the past, voices, places he had long tried to forget . . . all of them, here before him now in a messed up movie that played before his closed eyes with the volume down so low his ears could barely catch even the loudest of screams.
He shifted then, his silver-blonde brow furrowing unconsciously as in the back of his mind he recognized the distinct clinking of metal—this noise crystal clear.
Chains.
There was movement then, but not his own. Somewhere, a tiny random neuron decided to click into being, stimulating his curiosity as he randomly wondered, who is it?
Forcing his eyes open, he squinted as he tried to adjust to the dark of the room. It smelled moldy and rotten. Almost like . . .
"Took you long enough." Immediately his blue eyes slipped from the wall opposite him to a dark corner where he had failed to notice someone sitting.
"I almost took you for dead." The voice was laced with a thick British accent and obviously male. Something clicked in his mind as he frowned automatically in thought. A ripple of tension ran through him.
That voice . . . it felt. . . familiar somehow. . .
As he kept his gaze there, squinting into the shadows, it was only then that he realized why that voice had seemed to strike something within his mind; why it seemed so familiar.
Because it was.
When this realization hit him, at first, he didn't no how to react. What was he to say to an enemy. . . or were they former enemies now? No, that would not be right. Even if Draco had lost, he'd never consider him anything good. The halfwit always seemed to be dragging trouble around, and the last thing the blonde needed was more of that.
But he couldn't help it then; he smirked.
"Well, bloody hell." He said, laughing hoarsely in the dark. "If it isn't my ol' chum Potter."
There was clanking then, and Draco realized that Harry was shifting to sit in the small ray of moonlight that came in through a barred window to his left.
"No matter how many times I try, I can't seem to get rid of you for good." His emerald gaze was piercing, cold, and unrelenting. The blonde didn't flinch under the scrutiny; he had long ago grown accustomed to it.
"I could say the same, you know." He retorted evenly.
The face Draco had learned to loathe was there, and yet it wasn't.
As they stared each other down in the silence, he realized that Harry had changed over the time they had been apart. He no longer looked innocent and young. There was a hardness to his features, a strength of will that could only be achieved by war and the shredding of what once was hope. It was obvious in the lines in his face, the way his brow came down in a look of fury, and the fire that burned in his green eyes.
A new scar marred his jawline and his hair had grown enough to cover his ears. The robes he wore were tattered, dirty, and in a state beyond any chance of repair.
He was barefoot.
"Gave up finally?" Draco said, his old haughty drawl taking over.
It couldn't be helped really, this smugness and sense of winning over the other young man. Seeing him sitting there, in rags and chains, barefoot and probably starving, Draco relished it. Because this was the hero, the man of the hour, the one sickeningly foolish boy who felt the need to right every wrong; the name on everyone's lips.
Harry Potter.
Harry didn't answer, instead turning his gaze to the small window.
"I made a mistake is all. But I'll be out soon, you'll see."
Again with the foolish hope. Did this idiot never learn? Or did he know something . . . that Draco didn't?
"I won't ask where you've been . . ." Harry said, not moving from where he was, "I don't want to know."
"Fair enough." Draco said, looking at Harry's outlined profile in the moonlight.
"Stay on your side, I'll stay on mine." He said, sliding back to lean his head against the wall. His upper face was shrowded by the shadows then, only allowing Draco a view of the other young man's lips moving as he spoke. " I don't want anything to do with you."
Unfazed, Draco shrugged and moved back to lean against "his" wall.
"Fair enough." He muttered, closing his eyes.
If ever there was a good thing Lucius had instilled in him, it was that the hole could always get deeper so he should enjoy what he still could, no matter how dark it seemed. Because hell, he was right and currently, that damn hole was quickly becoming worse.
Ar the moment, the only thing he had left for himself was the sanctuary of sleep—or at least he hoped so. With all the random nightmares and strange dreams he had had during his short stay at Titans' Tower, he wasn't even sure his mind was his own anymore--another little concern that made his hole deeper.
But he would worry about that later.
Right now his body ached for rest. He could honestly say he felt like he hadn't slept in years, and that was his only concern for now. He didn't care that he was getting hungry, or that his left cheek was swollen as if someone had hit him when they must've thrown him into the cell, or that his right leg had fallen asleep.
Weariness draped over him like a heavy blanket.
And not caring if Harry Potter dared kill him while asleep or not, Draco fell into a fitful slumber in the darkness of the cell, with only an enemy as his companion.