Agent X

The Incurable!

Presents

All For Me

A/N: Second chapter follows in continuity with the first. Please read and enjoy. Constructive criticisms are welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans.

It was a road up to the sky. A tunnel. The windows formed the cobble stones of the floor, walls and roof. There was even a light shining through at the end. But the more he looked, the more that pathway seemed to close itself to him and he was banished to just stare up at the ordinary rooftops of the concrete skyscrapers far above him.

He couldn't really say that he hadn't expected to go like this, but neither had he expected to go at all. It was painful. At the edge of his blurred vision there was a constant presence of blue. It would move out of sight, then reappear, then remove itself again. And as it went the bouts of pain subsided.

Occasionally he could here a choked "Why?"

Cyborg… my dear friend, why?…

Where he lay he could feel the grit of the road digging into exposed skin, but it was comforting. It was one of the few sensations he still had, other than the tingling of his torso, the presence of cool hands, and the electric agony throughout his entire body.

The scene surrounding Cyborg seemed surreal. Everything was blurred at the edges. He could hear, better than see, a sobbing red mess clinging to the solemn colours of red, green and yellow. The girl had her head buried in the boy's chest so her desperate weeping and hiccups were muffled. The black haired boy was shaking with a more silent grief, small silvery tears escaping through his mask.

She went about methodically and unceasingly attending to his wounds. Fusing circuits, stopping blood flow and healing the gashes with a cool periwinkle glow. It was a routine that they all knew was useless. But still she didn't stop, and no one attempted to stop her.

Slowly Cyborg wondered how one battle could go so wrong. As his gaze shifted, some distant part of his mind projected the image of an extra, green titan, head in hands and mourning in front of one of the scorched hotel entrances. A strange thought occurred to him. The battle hadn't gone wrong at all – it went completely right.

It seemed that his subconscious was faster than the rest of him. It took a second or two to process the thought before it fully registered. He guessed blood loss was making his circuits slow. Nevertheless, he felt the sudden truth inherent in the statement. This was his chance.

Cyborg, Friend, don't go…

Cyborg was no fool. He knew that throughout the course of his service to the Teen Titans he hadn't been idolised as much as the others. He didn't need it and it had never really bothered him. What had mattered was that the Tower and his baby were up and running, and that the rest of the team were okay. They were a family, and treated each other as such.

But truthfully, he had always believed that he would get his chance at glory. As much as he had tried to deny it, the thought that once he left this place he left forever was a silent fear. He would become the Lost Titan, forgotten by the city and the people he had spent his life protecting, a brief legacy of Cyborg fading quickly.

Now opportunity had been handed to him on a bloodstained platter. By her.

He struggled through the darkening recesses of an unfamiliar mind. Refocused. Her purple hair and cowl were the first things he could make out. She was leaning tentatively over him, touching the warped metal of his chest.

All he needed, he needed from her. He didn't want comfort . He didn't want consolations. He wanted the immortality of recognition, and only she could give it to him. He didn't want to have such a meaningless end, on such an ordinary day, with just a routine battle. He needed acknowledgement, and so, he needed her.

But she had started to fade away.

"Please… wait…" was all Cyborg managed to sputter forth before he was gasping for breath. All she did was glance at him and then continue nonchalantly about her work.

After a moment she paused and returned her gaze to his face. He was still looking at her. There was a short and silent battle before she slowly, warily, daintily placed her hand against his forehead.

She had been expecting his skin to be a warm contrast against the rest of his metallic exterior, but found that that was not so. The glass was warm, but he was stonily cold.

'Yes?'

He heard her voice ring throughout his mind. It was clear, but the effort it took to concentrate made him feel light headed. His life was pooling on the ground around her.

'There… there's something that I need to ask. Raven, this is... important to me. All I want. I - I don't want to be gone forever. I just - for something special, I need more than this, please... let them know I was different...'

Some part of him realised he was rambling and he tried to focus through the haze.

Cyborg, no… Cyborg, I don't want you to go…

Her eyes were still focused on his, her hand a source of burning warmth against his forehead.

'You. And if it's you, then I'll be worthy. You… then I'll know that I was something… that this isn't so inconsequential.'

A distant part of him already knew the answer. But it was drowned in the blood covering her feet and calves, and lost in the haze he struggled through.

'...something, please… please,'

This was his chance, he had to believe.

'All I need.'

The eyes. Her eyes. That's all that swam before him. Though whether it was real or imagined, he couldn't tell. Had he already died? But no, he could still feel her calm presence in his mind.

So he spoke, the words gargling out and tasting like copper. He looked up waiting for the answer, and when it came the realisation struck that he was destined to oblivion, in more ways then one.

The eyes were gone

She couldn't do it.

"Raven, please…

Cry for me"