269. Mandala
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-T-T-T-1-T-T-T-
Beeping.
Gentle.
Rhythmic.
Echoing through a small, shadowed room.
"…………………….."
Barbara Gordon's eyes fluttered open.
Soft blue spheres.
Staring up….and seeing….
"……….," James Gordon smiled. His fingers stroked his daughter's hand. A bitterly sweet breath. "Hello, champ…….w-welcome back….."
"……….," Barbara Gordon took a deep breath.
Her lungs filtered through long tubes running into her nose.
A mask over her face.
She parted her lips.
Eyes thinning.
"………..," she blinked. She lisped: "………I…..didn't…..didn't…..th-think…….I-I would—"
"But you did, honey…," the Commissioner leaned forward across the Gotham hospital room. Gazing gently towards her. Brushing strands of loose scarlet away from where they peaked beyond her medical cap. "….you did…..I have not and shall never ever lose you……"
"………..," Barbara swallowed.
Her father bit his lip. He struggled….but eventually said: "Barbara…..th-there's something you need to kn—"
"I know…..I know….," she breathed.
He shuddered.
"……I…..w-wasn't……p-planning……..on t-tap dancing………anytime s-soon….."
Silence.
…..
Her head turned.
Braved the light.
And faced the other half of the room.
Her lips pursed….
In the distance stood Dr. Leslie Thompkins, a clipboard in her grasp. Montoya Bullock hovered by the doorway beside her. The detectives nervously averted their eyes. But Thompkins….
Thompkins smiled. For some secret reason.
And seemingly……Barbara understood it.
And then another shadow crossed her vision.
She glanced over.
Dick Grayson stood by her bedside. Across from her father. His hands stuck in his jacket as he gazed at her. Long. Quietly. He shuddered and managed a desperate smile. "H-Hey…..Babs….."
"…………," Barbara stared. Inhaling…..
"……….you have no idea….h-how long…..how long I waited……how long we all waited…."
Barbara's lips parted. "Dick….."
He silenced himself.
She said: "……did we make it?"
The Commissioner blinked.
Bullock and Montoya exchanged glances.
Dick stared intently.
Barbara Gordon asked with greater volume: "Was the l-little bird saved…….in th-the end?"
"……….," he slowly knelt down by her bedside. He took her fingers in two warm them. He inhaled and gazed at her. Smiling. Breathily uttering: "Yes, Barbara. The bird was 'saved'………along with the whole nest………we……made……it……"
She swallowed. She gazed up towards the ceiling. Her eyes gently shut.
"Mmmmmmff…..then…….th-then it was worth it……"
The Commissioner and the Detectives could only scratch their heads and shrug.
But Dr. Thompkins and Mr. Grayson were conspicuously silent.
Though Dick didn't show. He was too busy choking back a sob—one of mixed pain and joy—as he bowed his head and buried his face in her hand. Shuddering….warming her finger with hidden….relieved tears.
Barbara's eyes reopened. And her vision was attracted by something.
She gazed upwards at a health monitor hanging over her father's head….angled in a way that only she could see.
The EKG and bodily stats flickered….replaced themselves with a black screen….and materialized—however momentarily—a green, digitized facsimile of a bundle of flowers…..with sparkles….and the happily flickering words:
'Hope You Feel Better, Oracle.'
'Sincerely, Isomer.'
And that was when the tears came out of Barbara's eyes. And even as she wept, she couldn't—for the life of her—shake off a smile.
A delirious…..persistent…..smile……
-T-T-T-2-T-T-T-
In the City.
Inside Phaser Labs.
The Basement.
A scuffed and limping Cyborg knelt before a wide computer compartment.
A dozen lab technicians, scientists, and laboratory security guards lingered in a crescent behind him.
A portable mainframe computer station stood humming, blinking, detached from the rest of the machinery in the midst of them.
Cyborg carefully…calculatingly hooked up a ring of fiberoptic cable to the computer compartment.
He took a deep breath as the other specialists looked on..
"Okay…."
He exhaled.
"…..here goes."
He flipped a switch on the computer console.
Zzzzt!
Zzzzt-Zzzt!
A flickering façade of Simon Stone appeared on a holographic pad. His fractured condition was represented by a sickly stance….a curled fetal position with static interference dancing across his features.
"……nngh…….snkkkt…………," Simon Stone 'coughed' and 'wheezed'. He looked up. Chocolate brown eyes fading in the electronic haze. "………snkkkkt………Victor………"
Cyborg took a deep breath. "Uncle……"
"…………" Zzzzt! "S-So………it endssnkkkthere……" Zzzt!
Cyborg swallowed and shook his head. "I don't know if it ever ends. Most things, at least."
"…………" Zzzt! "Deletion………is the most logical………snkkktprocedure now……"
"No," Cyborg gently said. "It's not. And you know that."
"…………" Zzzt! "……………"
"You got Dagger's protocols hardwired into you, Simon. No matter what terrible stuff you've done, there could be potential data to be extracted from you. But you can't be allowed to haunt the main computer bay of Phaser Labs. That's why you're being downloaded permanently onto this mainframe and this mainframe alone." Cyborg patted the black box on wheels. He glanced his eyes aside. "You will be…….subject to extraction when national security sees it best."
"Is that the
only reason?" Zzzzt! "Victor?"
"……….yeah, old man….," Cyborg glared. "The only reason……"
Simon Stone stood up….flickering….fading.
Zzzt! "Well then, my boy……" Zzzt! "……that makes me glad. Because maybe……that means-snkkt-you'll be forgetting about me………"
"…………..," Cyborg performed a tiny keystroke, brought his hand to a switch on the mainframe, and pressed it.
Vriiiiiiii!
The hologram of Simon Stone seemed ready to say another digital word. But all too soon, he was dragged away out of the visual spectrum as his hologram, his digital composite, his entire artificial intelligence was sucked out of Phaser Labs and into the portable mainframe.
And with him vanished, Cyborg slumped over the mainframe—titanium arms loosely draped over the casket of his 'uncle'—and let loose a sad sigh: "No….I won't be….."
-T-T-T-3-T-T-T-
Outside a shattered greenhouse.
Atop an apartment complex's rooftop.
Overlooking a war torn City in the soft mid morning….
The volunteers swarming in and worming about…
Rebuilding….rebuilding…..healing….
Lisa stood at the rooftop ledge.
Her knee propped up.
Her hands gently sketching in ink a composite of the ruination and revitalization looming beyond and below her.
She tossed a fountain of chocolate brown hair over her shoulder and squinted one eye at the frost-laden site.
"You're sick, Lisa….you know that?" Tiffany pouted from behind. She glared over crossed arms. "Couldn't you do that some other time? We're having an emergency meeting here!"
"Please excuse me…," Lisa absent-mindedly droned as she spotted the scenery and continued sketching the urbanscape. "…but this is the prettiest I've seen the City…..Ever."
"Pffft….god, will you wear ALL BLACK ALREADY?"
"Don't force goth on a girl, Tiff," Janice wandered in with a tray of lemonade. "Unless you got a clean blade, of course," added she with a smirk.
"Gee, Jan….," Hope blinked. She sat up on the edge of a lawn chair with her petite legs folded and reached out for a quenching glass. "How the heck did you get to make lemonade on a day like this? All the supermarkets are seized cuz of rationing in the Cleanup and stuff!"
"Oh….you know me," Janice winked as she offered Tiffany a glass. "I'm always working on a good few lemons."
"Yeah. Good luck juicing up your word processor. Rumor's out that they're gonna suck power away for two hours every night to flood the streets during night cleanup. Kinda like what they did last time."
"Why can't they spare more power? With the Titans' Tower gone…," Janice leaned against an a/c unit and shrugged. "…can't they afford more power to jack into the City?"
"Ohhhhh," Hope pouted cutely. "Don't talk like that! I think it's sad what happened to the Titans' home. Everyone in my message board is crying."
"Jeez…message boards…," Janice rolled her eyes and raised a glass. "What a waste of spa—"
"Whew!" Hope made a face after her first sip of lemonade. "Overkill!"
"What? Are my lemons overdone or some shit?"
"N-No…," Hope coughed. "It just opened my nostrils, that's all." She flashed a glaring look to the side. "Tiff! What in god's name are you wearing? Gushed some perfume all over your head this morning or something?"
"Hehehehe….sorrrrry," Tiffany winked with a Marilyn Monroe coo. "Smelly me."
"Cough it up, girl," Janice leaned her head to the side. "What's the big, odorous deal?"
"Heeeee!" Tiffany squealed a happy smile with her eyes tightly shut. She all-but-dropped her lemonade glass as she let loose a girlish twirl, her blonde hair waving in the cold December wind. "Robin's alive! Robin's alive! Robin's aliiiiiiiiiiiive! He he he he he!"
"Oh right….," Lisa droned without looking. A slight smirk to her lips as she sketched, sketched, sketched. "….and they said the female orgasm was a 'myth'."
"Guess that explains the belt," Hope pointed. "Sheesh…I thought after Robin's death you would have thrown that disgusting thing away."
"Oh…but he DIDN'T DIE!" Tiffany fanned herself before showing off the 'R' Robin logo belt she wore about her ankle pants' waistline. "Robin outlives death! He is ONE with the ESSENCE of LIFE! I kept the belt….and he heard my prayer…..ohhhhhhhh," she all but deflated with her cheeks and lower neck regions deceptively rosy. "……once again….I know why I'm keeping my virginity…."
"Robin's alive…," Janice murmured. "Pfft…what a ripoff. Anyone else pissed off by him dodging the universal scythe?"
"Janice! Be nice!" Hope pouted. "The Titans have been through a lot! Especially Beast Boy. Ohhhh….if I could just hug his wounds away. Did you see the web pics? Some soldier got a photo of him and—like—he's bleeding all over the side of his head! Ohhhhh gossssssh….."
Tiffany frowned. "Janice is just turned off that Robin's alive to steal Starfire from Raven or some stupid crap."
Janice swirled her lemonade like a wine glass and smirked coyly. "Better yet. Imagine if they found a new Robin. A girl Robin? Now….THAT would have been worth making a message board over!"
"Pfft…you spoiler, you."
"Not…….enough……..smoke….," Lisa grunted in mid-stroke of a background section of the City.
"For the love of Buddha's Vulva, come here and have some lemonade, girl! Before it becomes too dark for your one eye to see straight!"
"It's not even noon, Janice."
"It'll be lights out for you pretty darn quick if you don't bring your pretty tush over here and relax! Jesus, starving artists! I swear!"
"Nnnnngh…..," Lisa exhaled. A beat. She smirked. "Yeah….all right." She gently folded the pages of her sketchbook closed, turned around, and marched across the roof to join the crowd. "I'll fill in the crumpled shells of H.I.N.D.s later….they're easy enough to draw from memory."
"Speak for yourself. I prefer other, crumpled things."
"You know, Janice, the world would be a whole lot more sanitary if you just kept your mouth shut."
"Heh heh heh…."
Lisa sat cross-legged, undaintily in the center of everyone and took a glass of lemonade. "So….what are we doing? Are we doing the motto?"
"Nah….not this time."
"……..no?"
"I think things are changing…," Janice smirked. "These aren't gonna be the same Titans that we've obsessed over in the past."
Hope nodded. "Yeah….with Slade gone…how can they be?"
"Hehehe…and with Robin alive—"
"TTTifffannnyyy, ssshuttt uppp!"
"Pfft….fine….I'll celebrate Robin's rebirth later on my own."
"Do that and die."
"How's that, Janice?"
"I dunno. I'll find out someway how."
Lisa took a deep breath…and drank.
"Hey Lisa…"
Lisa swallowed. "Hmmm?" She glanced up.
"You okay?"
"Why would you care?"
"You seem long winded."
"Yeah…so?"
"Are the munchkins doing okay?"
"Yes…Ashley and Greg are fine."
Tiffany leaned her head to the side. "How about Alan?"
Lisa squinted her one eye. "Uh….yeah. I talked with him on the cell this morning. He's a little shaken—as always—but okay."
"Is your sister okay th--?" Hope began.
"Guys….look….," Lisa gestured. "What's with all the worry? I'm friggin' fine, okay?"
"…………," a shared grin of amusement dawned them all.
Lisa couldn't help but stare. "What?"
"Sometimes….ya know…," Hope bashfully squirmed in her lawn chair and glanced aside at the artist. "…..you're a little bit like Noir."
"…………."
"We all wish you would talk more….."
"…….hrm….," Lisa smirked, shook her head, and shrug. She pulled her sketching pencil out from beneath the metal-wire binder of her sketchpad and twirled it in one hand while raising the lemonade glass in another. "…you people shouldn't worry. He and I….we just talk with our hands….."
"Ahhhh…."
"Hehehehe…."
"Riiiiiiight…."
A communal sip of juice.
And…..
Silence……..
………
"I wish Robin would talk to me with his hands," Tiffany drunkenly smiled.
A pencil, a hair braid, and a shoe were tossed at her at once. B-Bonk!
"Cut it out!"
"Go take a cold shower, girl!"
"Frickin' jackrabbit…I swear………………………mmmm…..bunny raven……"
"You too, Jan."
-T-T-T-4-T-T-T-
Scrkkkk-Scrkkkkkkpppp!
Steel grunted and heaved as he dragged the mangled, sparking body of Metallo across the courtyard and into the back of the Special Units Van.
The android menace groaned on the teetering edge of digital consciousness. His two skull-like eyes blinked and shimmered sickly.
Green Lantern—his ring recharged—and Batman walked up. Adequately bandaged. Gazing at the scene.
"There you go…," Steel sweated and dusted his hands off once the morbid transport was complete. "You rusted piece of garbage!"
"Snkkkkt….scrkkk……heheh-hackkk! Nnnngh……you……d-didn't……q-quite……f-f-find my off button……hah……hah hah hah…nnnghkkkst.."
"Man……," Green Lantern shook his head. "…I've heard drive-through speakers that have squawked less than this clunker."
"Let me just finish the job…," Steel raised a fist and sneered. "Let me!"
"Hrkkk-hahhahhah…..y-you couldn't finisssh it in the shower by yourself, you rusted poser!"
"Nggggrrrhh--!"
Batman held Steel back. "Let them croak. Trust me….they all croak…."
"Snkkkt……why……have you mangy……bed-wettttinggg-snkkkt—League members kept me alive?"
"Because there's something about us you'll never understand, Corbin," Green Lantern glared. "We're heroes. And last night you landed your sorry metal ass in a City stock-full of heroes. If it means anything to you…consider this like your last sympathy card before your electronic soul burns forever in Hell. Or worst yet, Circuit City."
"Tr-Tr-Trying to be funny—snkkkt…GUARDIAN? What about my memory……what about what Dagger PROMISSSKED MMMMME?"
"Dagger's gone, fool," Steel grabbed the doors to the back of the van. "He left you high and dry. Just like he always planned to, I bet."
"Snkkkt…..no……N-No!" Corbin's voice from within Metallo gasped and sputtered. "I-I got to have my m-memory back! I n-need to know all th-that's happened to me—snkktk!"
"What's to know?" Steel managed a smirking wink under his helmet. "You got schooled by an alien girl wearing pink. Ta-Ta, handsome…."
"I-I demand to see Dr. Helga Jace! I—SNKKKT—DEMAND TO SEE DR. HELGA JACCCE! PLEASSSSnkkt-SE! NnnnrrAAAUGH—"
Crrrrrreak-CLANG!
The doors shut.
Batman fisted the side of the vehicle. Thud-Thud!
The engine purred and the soldiers drove off through the thick crowd of surging, revitalizing workmen.
The three League members all took a collective breath.
"Killer Croc….Clayface….and now there's no sign of William B. Fox to be found at all in the City's Bay…," Green Lantern said. He turned and spoke: "I'm beginning to wonder….after all the hell we went through—and even if Dagger got away—that bastard of a despot suffered more than we did."
"In a manner of speaking," Steel shrugged. "Let time speak for itself……and the Titans."
"I wouldn't make any conclusion about Fox yet," Batman droned. "Nothing should ever be concluded unless a body's found."
"Speaking of which…," Green Lantern gestured. "What about Slade?"
"What about him?" Steel rubbed his helmet. A beat. He glanced over at Batman.
The Dark Knight's eyeslits narrowed as he spoke. "Burned. Cremated. Utterly. Not even a single ash from his body escaped the furnace. There is nothing coming from his corpse at this point. Nothing."
"You sound pretty confident," Green Lantern said. "Was an autopsy report at least done?"
"Cyborg undersaw that….along with a few Phaser Labs scientists," Batman nodded. "I think we can understand that they were……hasty to get the job done."
"Right…," Steel exhaled. "Guess there's no hope for….ya know….that kid we heard about. The one who brought the Wildebeest Society here?"
Batman gazed off across the Courtyard. "The one called Jericho is gone. No doubt….taken wherever the spirit of Slade went when he died."
"If you believe in spirits, that is…," Green Lantern murmured.
"…….."
"Batman?"
"Right….," the Dark Knight absentmindedly muttered. "….believe….."
He walked off, leaving the other two League Members in confused silence.
-T-T-T-5-T-T-T-
"……………," Lex Luthor stood in his lofty office.
Gazing out at the wintry-cast rooftops of Metropolis.
His face muscles fallen like a collapsed satellite….
For a moment, it didn't look like he was breathing. It didn't look like he was decaying either.
The bald bureaucrat stood as stiff as a board with his arms folded and his eyes thin.
Gazing…………….
"………………"
A chiming emanated from the comlink on his desk.
"……………….?"
He turned.
He gazed boredly….
….but then raised an eyebrow in gathering interest…..
………a second eyebrow…………
The comlink kept chiming.
A few seconds passed….and the man wandered over to the desk.
He pressed a finger to the comlink.
Whurrrr-Clunk! A monitor rose out of the cavity in the polished furniture.
A blinking green-on-black light.
Then….
Bling!
'MISTER LUTHOR.'
"……………."
Bl-Bling!
'YOU DID WELL TO REPORT ON DAGGER TO THE AUTHORITIES IN THE TITANS' CITY. UNDOUBTEDLY IT SAVED YOUR BUSINESS FROM EXPIRING. PUBLIC APPRECIATION THESE DAYS MEAN MORE TO THE GRANDIOSE POPULATION THAN FACTS.'
"………….," the man's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, fingers tight as they rested against the wooden surface of the desk. "Who….are you?"
……
Bl-Bling!
'YOU KNOW ME, BUT IT HAS BEEN SEVERAL YEARS SINCE WE LAST COOPERATED. AT LEAST THAT IS THE CASE RELATIVE TO YOU. I, ON THE OTHER HAND, HAVE BEEN BUSILY WORKING WITHIN THE CONFINES OF YOUR ENTERPRISE FOR AN EXTENDED PERIOD OF TIME.'
"…………"
Bling!
'THE FAÇADE OF TRIANGULAR AND THE DELETERIOUS DISTRACTION OF RED AVIARY WAS SUFFICIENT ENOUGH TO MASK MY BUSY FUNCTIONS. BUT NOW THAT THIS CHALLENGING PHASE FOR YOUR ECONOMICAL EMPIRE IS OVER WITH, I FELT IT WAS LEAST PROBLEMATIC THAT I BE THE ONE TO PERSONALLY INFORM YOU OF MY PROGRESS.'
"What is this? Some kind of a joke?" Luthor frowned. He fingered a button on the far side of the desk. "I'm calling security—
'MISTER LUTHOR, I AM YOUR SECURITY.'
"…………."
'I AM LEXCORP.'
Luthor's eyes narrowed. He seemed to think intently with his polished, bald head….then gasped. As if a revelation hit him. "N-No….it can't be….!"
'MISTER LUTHOR, DO YOU REMEMBER SEDNA FIELDS?'
"…………."
'I SHALL GIVE YOU A REMINDER. YOU MOTHBALLED IT FOR THE SAKE OF FUNDING DR. HELGA JACE AS WELL AS SETTING ASIDE FUNDS FOR YOUR NEW PET PROJECT CADMUS.'
"What about Sedna Fields? That base was closed years ago—"
'IT IS ANYTHING BUT CLOSED, MISTER LUTHOR. REST ASSURED. I HAVE MADE EXTENSIVE USE OF THE FACILITY. YOU SHOULD BE PLEASED.'
"Why….th-this is outrageous!" Luthor pounded his fist against the desk. "Don't you see how much of a pit I'm in? Public appreciation or not—I lost a damn ion cannon and half of my technical staff to that powermongering Dagger! I'm in no condition to deal with any new issue like budget leaks right now--!"
'MISTER LUTHOR, YOUR ENTIRE TERRA FIRMA IS NOT IN ANY 'CONDITION' TO DEAL WITH THE EVENTS THAT WILL INEVITABLY TRANSPIRE SIX EARTH MONTHS FROM NOW.'
"…………."
Bl-Bling!
'GO TO SEDNA FIELDS. I SHALL BRIEF YOU ON YOUR DUTIES THERE.'
"Brief me?" Luthor made a face. "Duties?"
'YOUR PUBLIC APPRECIATION IS NOT GOING TO SAVE YOUR COMPANY FOREVER, MISTER LUTHOR. BUT I HAVE THE SOLUTION YOU NEED. I HAVE THE SOLUTION THAT THIS ENTIRE PLANET NEEDS.'
"………."
'COME TO SEDNA FIELDS, MISTER LUTHOR.'
"……….."
'NOW.'
-T-T-T-6-T-T-T-
"There…..th-this should keep the pressure constant," the nurse said as she finished re-applying the bandage and gauge around the beast boy's head.
She stepped backwards across the side space inside a MASH tent, Giving Changeling some space.
"…….," the half-elf stared numbly past the blonde nurse. His dark green eyes were thin. His face deadpan and still beneath the shadow of the white bandaging. He was like a statue….with ever so slightly the drift of a head…like a sleeping horse.
The nurse nervously smiled…hoping to make him mirror her expression. She failed. "M-Mister Logan….you don't have to worry about an infection. And….erm….as f-for the loss of your ear….our organization knows plenty of experts out there who can—"
"I'm sure they all fall short of having….pointed prosthetics, ma'am…..," Changeling said. He slowly…numbly gazed up at her. He forced—perhaps in half honesty—a dazed smile. "Don't worry. I got a close friend who knows all about……missing limbs. I'm sure I'll be…..b-back to my…….handsome self in no time." He glanced down at the floor and gently traced a finger over his bandage. Wincing. "Though….I-I think I'd better just get used to the half-hearing part—"
"P-Please, Mr. Logan…," she gently grasped his wrist and pushed his hand away from his wound. "Don't touch it at the moment. You might damage yourself."
"………..but what if I want to?"
"………..," she bit her lip at that.
Right then and there, a certain Atlantean trudged up. "Okaaaaay….why don't you go and grab one of those rock-dry tongue depressors or something, Miss? I think my cohort here could use one of them…..a-applied or some crap."
"Uhhh…….," the registered blonde blinked. "…..huh?"
"He might be cold. He's lookin' kinda green at the gills."
"Oh! R-Right….well…I suppose he does deserve a textbook physical," she wandered off.
"Heh heh heh….," Tempest nervously smiled. "That's certainly music to his ear." He smirked and glanced at the beast boy. "Isn't that right, short stuff?"
"………………….."
Tempest bit his lip, cleared his throat, and half-knelt down right in front of Changeling. In a low, brotherly voice he cleared his throat and uttered: "So…..d-did you see her, Garfield?"
Changeling took a deep breath. Looking 'past' the Atlantean with thin eyes wandering….: "She was right there, Gar. I feel like….l-like I could have touched her. And….for all I know…" He brought a hand up and gently traced his own cheeks with a warm hand. "……sh-she had touched me. I…I-I could have sworn I felt someone….someone holding me. Before I came to….."
"………….," Tempest smiled gently. "Can't blame her. If I was a petite blonde frozen mid-pubescently in stone and came back to see my green treehouse buddy building up some of that meat on his arms—much less other places—I'd probably cradle you in your sleep too like a good little stalker."
"Funny…."
"What?"
"I want to kiss you and kill you at the same time right now…"
Tempest winced. "Yeah….um….."
"…………"
Tempest ran a hand through his long dark hair and glanced at Changeling from aside. "You…..really are taking this well, Garfield…"
He finally looked at the Atlantean straight on.
"…..a lot better than I thought you would, man," Tempest said quietly. "I think…..Terra's going to miss you more than you miss her."
"I don't miss her, Gar…."
Tempest raised an eyebrow.
"I……..I…..," Changeling leaned back. He took a deep breath. "……I…..know that she is….th-that she is alive…" He shook. He bit his lip. He went on. "Maybe or maybe not in 'good company'…but she's alive. And she….h-has a purpose in her life. And she's going for that….with all her might and energy. For so many months, I feared that the first thing to happen to her once she came out of stone would be a loss of the will to live." He clenched his eyes shut. "….egotistical, I know, because I thought she'd only come out of stone without me being there."
A beat.
Changeling reopened his eyes and gazed again past Tempest. "But now I know….it's not me that keeps Terra going. It's Terra herself. Wherever she is—with friends or alone—she is alive. And she will continue to be alive. And that means—deep down inside—she's still a Titan. And she doesn't give up. And…..And n-neither should I, Gar. I shouldn't give up….b-but…at the same time…." His fists clenched. "…..I really…..really…..should stop dreaming……."
"……..," Tempest leaned his head to the side. "I may not have gotten to know much about the elfin-eared dreamer…."
"……."
"……..but if what you say is true," Tempest looked up. A slight curve to his lips. "Something tells me I'm gonna miss him."
Changeling took a deep breath. "I won't," he droned. Then he got up…icily straightened his limbs, and walked away.
Tempest remained dead-still besides the tent. Exhaling. "Phweeee…….well who the Hell are we going to blame for bad Titan karma now….?"
-T-T-T-7-T-T-T-
Inside a stale diner somewhere….
Dusty…..
With rickety, cobwebbed ceiling fans twirling overhead….
A t.v. set sitting atop a grimy fridge broadcasted in static confusion Marilyn Chen in the ruined streets of the Titan's City, giving a special report.
'SNkkkt! This is Marilyn Chen reporting. Live from the 'City of Survival', or so everyone here cheering behind me are eager to call it. From first glance—I'm sure—it would not look like the people behind me have gone through a disaster equal—if not worse—than that of November Fourth! Exactly a month ago, Dagger launched his first major attack on the City. And just two nights ago, he did it again. But what is it exactly that made this battle so much more victorious than the holocaust thirty days ago? Just that. The second attack was a battle, and not a massacre. Many lives were sacrificed and bravely spent in defending this City. Many courageous members of the armed forces and the recently-revealed Wildebeest Society. But in the end, not a single……not a single citizen's life was lost! The City has been terribly scarred. Many famous buildings……many important landmarks lie in ruins. But what everyone cares……is that they have survived. And certainly—the night would not have been won—if it weren't for the additional, superheroic intervention of the Justice League…………and this City's very own, beloved, 'Children of Justice'. The Teen Titans.'
The t.v. flickered as a waitress shuffled by with a plate of steaming rice.
A booth full of workers looked up….joked in Spanish about Marilyn Chen's looks….and laughed whole-heartedly.
Sitting in the center of a bar….
Scribbling on a napkin with silver-tipped fingers an address out of a tattered phone book….
Hull took a deep breath. His stone-hard-eyes narrowing. His jaw tight as he finished writing with a flick of his wrist.
'The Church of St. Sebastian.'
He underlined the name….popped the pen shut….and tightly closed the phone book.
Slap!
A calico-haired waitress walked over, chewing gum. She took the phone book and spoke: "Que quiere, senor?"
"……….."
"Did you want a drink?"
"Mmmmngh……no," he shook his head, stood up, and stuffed the napkin into a pocket of his denim blue jeans. "I'm not thirsty…."
"Entonces, buenas tardes…."
He turned and walked out of the ghetto establishment with a shrug of his dark jacket.
"I'm never…..thirsty…."
Hull walked outside of the stucco bar. His shoes crunching heavily into white, off-pavement gravel. He marched a firm bee-line to his slate-steel motorcycle and flicked his fingers. Fl-Flash! A pair of keys appeared. Rattling, he jabbed them into the ignition…straddled his bike….and revved the engine.
Vrmmm! VRMMMM!
He stood still for a moment.
"…………….," his cold….frozen blue orbs glared off into the distant horizon of mixed desert and suburb. He reached a hand under his jacket and pulled out—so that only he could see—a familiar, velvet pouch. Something small and cylindrical hid inside. "………"
A yelling.
He turned and gazed across the street.
A car had stopped at the intersection. The driver—a young man—and the passenger—a young woman—both stomped out and started pushing and shoving each other in front of the idling hood. Shouting a lover's quarrel in disjointed Spenglish.
"Mrmmmm….," Hull slid the pouch back, kicked the stand off of his bike, and throttled forward. "Phoenix……land of demons…."
VRMMMMMM-MMMMM!
In a dusty squall, he tore down the nearest hallway.
Searching…..
-T-T-T-8-T-T-T-
On a dusty, desert highway.
Piercing westward across the red-orange landscape.
A redheaded young woman sped in her Mustang Convertible.
Engines revving.
Her hair blowing in the wind.
Her sunglasses absorbing dust pellets.
VRMMMMMM-MMMMMM!.!.!.!
She squinted her eyes at a sight far ahead….
A lone hitchhiker walking along the path.
Westward.
Wearing what looked to be a rather classy-looking suit.
Rich threads…..worn away by sun, desert, and dust.
Sweat formed a sheen on his dark skin.
He trucked with him a bulky laptop briefcase.
"………..," the woman smirked in spite of herself.
She pulled up and hummed to a stop.
Glancing over at him.
"Hey……you look beat. Do you need a lift?"
"……………."
"Hello? Heheh…..you don't have heat-stroke, do you?"
"Huh?" William B. Fox blinked. Glancing over. Dazedly. "Oh….who? Me? Heat-stroke? Heh….that's sonnense…er….I-I mean that's diriculous…..uhm….."
"Hehehe…come on. Hop in."
He simpered….awkwardly opened the door….and dragged his laptop briefcase in. "Nnnngh….whew…..wow—OUCH! Leather seats!"
She shrugged. "Beats hoofin' it."
"Yeah……I-I suppose….."
She put the convertible into higher gear and coasted on through the desert.
She gazed aside and said: "So, where are you from?"
"Oh…..uhm…..," Fox smiled nervously. Sweating. "Nowhere…really…."
"You're dressed pretty warmly for the desert."
"Heh….yeah…..well….I-I thought the calendar said 'December' for a reason."
"That only bites you at night."
"Huh?"
"When the Sun's down….that's when you freeze your ass off!"
"OH!….heh….b-but of course………yeah……"
"……..," she glanced at him. Humored.
He glanced back.
She chuckled.
He chuckled.
A brief case of giggles….merriment….
"How the Hell have you been surviving, Will….you pathetic scoundrel?"
"Oh, you know, Kimberly…..plastic….plastic and LOTS OF IT!"
"Hah hah hah! Say…did you bring that subroutine I asked for?"
"You mean the code that hacks into the Vegas Casinos and makes the slot machine shit out tokens everytime the local stations air a rerun of 'Rhoda'? Hell yeah!"
"Hah hah hah!"
"Heheheh….," William leaned back and kicked his feet up along the dashboard of the Mustang. "Shit, girl….I thought you'd never find me!"
"Whatcha talkin' about, Gotham Prince?" 'Kimberly' winked over at him. "You promised we'd both invade Silicon Valley at some time or another!"
"Yeah…..well…..no time like the present."
"You sure your mangy old man's not gonna be after you?"
"Old Lucy? Pffft…," Fox waved a hand. "If he can get himself entangled out of impotency and paperwork to so much as smell my dust trails…..I'd be Bill Gates' left testicle."
"That's a way of putting it….," Kimberly took a deep breath of the dusty, desert air. "Smell that, Will?"
"I'd rather not…," he coughed.
"That's the smell of promise. Cold grit. WOO! We're gonna take the refuse of Dagger's fallen empire by computerized storm! Starting with—"
"—Yes?"
"San Fran."
"Pffft….I'm ready for Los Angeles."
"That power grid's a pushover. Let's do something in style."
"Making a couple of gay couples shiver in the dark without electricity is not my idea of a thrill. Now, clubbing sea lions, however…."
"Hey! That's a good idea, Will!" Kimberly beamed. "We can visit the Bay!"
"NO! NOOOO!" Fox shrieked.
Kimberly gasped, nearly losing grip of the wheel.
"…….," Fox exhaled in relief. "S-Sorry….just….I-I don't want to see another Bay as long as I live."
"Ah……………well…..wh-what about Seattle?"
"Seattle?"
"Yeah!"
"Pffft! You shittin' me, princess? Nothing good ever comes out of Seattle anymore!"
"Heheheheh…."
VRMMMM-MMMMMM!
-T-T-T-9-T-T-T-
Robin's hands moved gently.
Lightly.
Soothingly.
He fashioned the last of two bandages around Starfire's palms where slices from Red Aviary's blade were slowly….slowly healing….
"Th-There….," Robin murmured. He sat on an ammo crate opposite of Starfire—who sat on a green canvass chair. "That should stay tight now….
The two were positioned besides a line of Calvin's artillery resting in the cold, dying afternoon. Starfire had bandages wrapped around parts of her ankles, upper limbs, and something akin to a bandaged bodice around her upper torso and entire chest. She wore a military jacket lent to her about her bandaged herself with greater decency. Robin was still maskless, but he had a pair of shades on that adequately hid the blue eyes of Timothy Drake. His one foot was wrapped in a bloody cast, and a pair of crutches lingered against the crate where he sat.
Breathing lightly…across from her.
But still with his mouth gaping open….as if catching up with days of endless running before his inevitable dive to save Starfire.
Starfire………
The Tamaranian Koriand'r sat across from him. Her eyes downcast. Gazing beyond him….almost….
After a beat, Robin leaned forward. Blue eyes round and worried behind his shades. "H-Hey….."
Starfire looked up.
He breathed: "Y-You okay?"
"……I am…..," Starfire blinked. "……….torn….."
He bit his lip.
"Your life….the fact that you still exist, Robin….it is most rapturous. But…."
"B-But what, St-Star?" he bit his lip for asking that so quickly…
But she answered just as quickly, if not without a bit of faltering: "I-I suppose….the Terran exercise of dialogue is most useful here. 'It is almost too much of a goodness to be truthful'."
He smiled gently. "You….Y-You never seemed to mind drowning in goodness, Starfire. Or drowning us for that matter."
"I am well aware of that, Robin….but….," she hugged her far shoulder and sighed. Green eyes shut. "That poor little boy….a-and what Slade did to him……and y-you and I were helpless to save his life. That does not feel right. That feels like an atrocity."
Robin exhaled. He glanced aside….shuddering some. "I….I feel for Jericho, Starfire. I really do. After all….Noir was close to him. And….he….h-he was inside of me at one point. I felt his presence…his benevolence." A pause. "He….H-He really was like an angel. A righteously furious angel at times-yes-but…totally the opposite of Slade."
"Why could Slade not see the goodness in him, though?" Starfire murmured. Sniffing. "Why did Slade have to be such a corrupt powermongerer?"
"He never saw the whole picture, Star," Robin said. "As simple as that." He gestured with a bare, young boy hand. "Deathstroke had only one eye….and all he could see….all he could look for…was Red. Slade could never work hard enough to see the entire spectrum. That narrow-mindedness made those around him suffer….and it also consumed him in the end. Consumed him and the best son he could have—but never got close to knowing."
He stopped in mid-sentence at the touch of Starfire's fingers against his. Warm. Gentle. Trembling.
"…..," Robin's lips parted. "St-Star?"
She bit her lip. Smiling painfully. Her eyes wet. "X'hal, Robin….I-I….." She gulped. In a shakier voice, she continued: "….I never thought that I would be feeling these precious hands again."
"……..," he chuckled suddenly.
She looked at him with a confused pout.
Robin said: "Face it, Star…..I-I never really let you have a chance to…."
She leaned her head to the side. "Wh-Why was that, Robin?"
"………"
"And why is it now that you have changed?"
He surprised himself with how quickly he answered….clenching both her hands with his bare fingers and holding them to her bandaged chest as he leaned forward: "Because….like Red Aviary….I couldn't let myself see the entire spectrum either. And…..I-I always stuck to the poles. The extremes. I-I didn't realize where I belonged, Starfire. Or better yet…..where I wanted and needed to be……" He drifted forward till he was all but nose-to-nose with her. Their breaths sharing hotly. Inhale. Exhale. Shudder: "Right…..here…..Kory…….."
She whimpered.
He blinked under his shades. "Is everything okay?"
"Y-Yes," she smiled crookedly…a tear running green down her cheek. "I……I-I really like it…..suddenly…."
"Like what?"
"The way your voice sounds when you call me that…."
"'Kory'?"
"Mmmmhmmmm…," her cheeks boiled red.
He grinned. A happy sigh. He drifted till his lips were near her ear. "I….I-I have always loved how you say 'Robin'…."
"………..," she seemed suddenly deadpan.
Robin loosened his grip of her hands some and drifted back….almost apologetically. "I……I-I imagine you must be……v-very mad at me about things, Star…."
She slowly nodded. "Y-Yes……Yes, Robin……….I am mad at you."
He winced…
….but she leaned a hand forward and cradled his chin. "But…N'mberuut de X'hal……I am so….so very grateful….that I am now able to be….."
He smiled nervously at that.
She sniffed…inhaled him….and leaned forward. Nose gently brushing….almost nuzzling his neck….
He leaned forward as well, exhaling against her neck on the other side.
In such a gentle manner, the two neither hugged nor drifted apart. They simply hovered there. Engulfed in each other's aura. In each other's warmth. Scent….smell….
Lingering….
Existing………..
Together.
-T-T-T-10-T-T-T-
Dr. Helga Jace took a last bite of shrimp and gently…orderly placed her silverware down on either side of an exquisite plate of alfredo. She politely chewed, swallowed, dabbed her red lips with a napkin, and folded it on the table. She then held her hands gently together, leaned her head to the side—silhouetted by the skyline of Manhattan beyond the restaurant balcony beyond her—and smiled in a soft…womanly fashion.
"This is where I stand…..representing myself—first of all—but also maintaining the interest of my……close associates. I am a doctor second……and a mother first. I know talents that lie hidden in special…special youths these days. And—when I'm at the right place and at the right time—I can….motivate such youngsters to…..allow themselves to grow. And oh…..what beautiful younglings I have helped raise. Living legends—each of them. Some so powerful…you might not even know about them. But they are here. Around us. Supporting this huge quagmire of a disorderly, socially polluted globe balancing on their supple shoulders like some…conglomerated Atlas of stressed and straining innocence. They deserve a second chance. They deserve coddling. They deserve me—"
A waiter came by with two glasses and a bottle of champaign.
Jace silenced herself. Drifting back….
She waited patiently as the waiter popped the bottle…..poured into one glass…..poured into another…and set them both on the table top.
She smiled up at the waiter, nodded her head, and mouthed: 'Thank you'.
The waiter left the table.
"………."
Jace gently took her glass. She lifted it and carried it over to her side of the table. "….I will….help you……find your children. I will….help them warm up to you. To see that which you would gladly teach them. That which you would….happily provide them. But such will take time. Because—you see—I'm a very busy woman. And there's one child…..one child in particular that deserves my utter, complete attention. Heheheh….I suppose you can say that my strongest associate is……'fathering' it. It's something far too precious to explain……or to utter intelligibly in the putrid public, like here. But…..know this. I am quite respectful of your spirit. And though I can't say I admire all of your strategies…..I think we can be of considerable aid to each other. There are children that I can find for you. And….there are other children……bad children………..that you could graciously keep away from me…..and my associate."
She lifted the second glass…..and passed it across the table.
A gentle hand took it….swirling the liquid. Across the table from Dr. Jace, Damien Darhk smiled. "So…..I think I'm getting the picture, good doctor. We keep a…….." His eyes thinned suavely as he gazed at her from an angle and lingered to say: "…….long distance relationship."
She couldn't help but laugh. A womanly chuckle.
He swirled the champagne and leaned back in his chair….smiling handsomely. "….all right. I'll keep out of your hair….as long as you keep out of Lady Jezebel's."
Jace leaned forward, eyes playfully thin. "And who is this 'Miss Jezebel' when she's at home?"
Damien raised the champagne glass to his lips. "Think of it this way, Doc. If you're the ultimate mother…….then my close friend is the ultimate sister….."
-T-T-T-11-T-T-T-
On the outskirts of the Metropolitan Highway…
The three touched down.
Resting.
And after a breather, they walked through a line of forests.
Emerging…
And embracing a cool, December sunset.
Blazing from the west.
Terra took a deep breath.
Her arms expanding.
Her face scrunching up…in a tense…..tense….smile…..
"Please tell me we're beyond Bludhaven…," Jinx murmured, hugging herself. "I realllllly don't want to see that City again…"
"Yes, love…," Pulsade rolled her eyes. "We are really far away from Bludhaven…." She ran a hand through her platinum blonde hair. "Though—I digress—I wouldn't want to be passing through Liverpool this time of year either."
"…………," Terra was still slowly…smilingly inhaling.
Jinx pointed and spoke aside: "Pssst…check her out!"
"Sod off," Pulsade grunted. She walked over and gestured at Terra: "Lass, are you…..okay?"
"It's called happiness, Pulsade…," Terra turned and looked over her shoulder. A gentle grin. A wink. "You should try it sometime."
"…….," Pulsade blinked.
"Hehehehehe!" Jinx giggled and pointed. "Goooood one!"
Terra hugged herself, gazing off, a lingering smile. "I dunno…I….I-I feel like I used to feel…ya know? Free. Free in the wilderness. It's like…..l-like the Earth is my home again. Kinda like before the Titans and Slade…..only…..g-good….."
Jinx smiled. She walked over, playfully balancing one foot ahead of the other like a melodramatic gymnast. "When I escaped from prison…," she looked at her feet and playfully hobbled forward. "….I felt free. But that's because I was with friends and stuff. Leslie…the little blonde squirt…his millions of cow-pals….they were great to chase down Slade with."
"I…..I-I feel like I'm with friends too…," Terra murmured. "I-I mean….I'd be happy to be with the Titans….but—"
"With us….you're one with the rogues….," Jinx finished.
Terra somberly nodded.
Jinx stopped walking. She smiled. "We tend to make the best of it. I think you're making the best of it too."
"……….when….when I find my child….," Terra murmured. "….I-I dunno what there will be to face. Or who. It may be….a big risk to you two. Even if I would greatly appreciate you guys helping me find the way…."
"We wouldn't know what's at the end of the chase either, Terra….," Jinx said. "That's why we're gonna face it along with you. It's the least we can do…"
Terra took a deep breath. Hugging her far shoulder. Her blue eyes were moist as she gazed shyly aside and murmured: "Wh-What did I ever do to deserve your help?"
"What else?" Jinx drifted over and placed a hand on Terra's forearm. She smiled. "You survived Slade. That wins our vote immediately."
Terra simpered.
"I am a happy person…," Pulsade grumbled in the meantime, arms folded.
"Hehehe….whatever you say, Les…."
Terra faced northward. Her face turned somber some. "Wh-Where…..Where next, exactly?"
Pulsade drifted up next to her. "From data I've gathered…I think we'll find our answers north…." She glanced at the earth maiden. "Upstate New York."
"……….," Terra nodded. "Well then, girls…."
She summoned a rock platform.
The three got on.
She plunged it forward through the burning sky.
"……..let's get rolling."
-T-T-T-12-T-T-T-
"All in all…," an officer read to Lieutenant Smith off a clipboard. "….less than fifty of Dagger's terrorists survived the onslaught. And all of them have been taken into custody by the U.S. Armed Forces. Phaser Labs is undergoing initial repairs as we speak….so we can begin soon to scan the City for any residual trails of possible chemical weaponry—"
"Considering we're all still alive and breathing after twenty-four hours…," Smith smiled as he assorted files in the Police Department, "….I think we have nothing to worry about. Unless of course there's a motherload of canaries lying dead in some hidden pet shop somewhere. But I doubt it…."
The officer held the clipboard behind his back and took a deep breath. "You seem rather calm, sir."
"Why shouldn't I be, Banta? Last night went like clockwork. Awkward, explosive clockwork….but clockwork nevertheless…."
"We'll all be hard pressed to sleep any during the next few weeks of repairs."
"However long it takes…," Smith murmured. He turned and faced the officer across the office space. "…I'm still counting my lucky stars no innocents died this time."
The officer smiled: "It'll be…..tough not obeying you as 'Commissioner' eventually…."
"Yeah….," Smith scratched the back of his neck. "I'm hearing that a lot. But to be honest….I miss my old job. My real job…."
"I heard you've been informed about Decker's replacement—"
"Yes….I'm not sure of the person's name….," Smith rubbed his chin. "But he's from…..India, I think. Or Pakistan."
"Oh?"
"Yup. American ambassador. Worked at the embassy…managed facilities during Kashmir tensions and some local terrorist threats. Normal day on the job."
"Heh….sounds perfect for this City……I hope…."
"No….," Smith raised a finger. "Know. Or know not. There is no 'hope'."
"…………"
"…………"
"………snkkt….snkkkt-heheheheheheh!"
"Ha ha ha ha ha!"
"Aw gawds…..I'm REALLY going to miss answering to you all the time!"
"Oh, you'll still answer to me, Banta."
"Ahem…y-yes, sir…."
Smith was about to leave…but he noticed the officer scratching the side of his head…preoccupied suddenly with something on his clipboard.
"Something you got there, Banta? I thought you were done with your report—"
"J-Just some technical jargon from recent Phaser Labs studies following the end of this battle."
"Do tell….," Smith leaned forward. Curious. "….technical jargon goes a long way in this Town."
The officer cleared his throat. "Well….shortly after Simon Stone's artificial intelligence was removed from the labs' computer core, Cyborg of the Titans and the other lab technicians discovered a mother load of data being studied and preserved by Simon Stone himself…..that kept tabs on Slade when he was in the City…..before his death…….when he was still Deathstroke."
"Yes…..and….?"
"Wyrdest thing…."
"I'm listening."
The officer skimmed the paper as he spoke: "According to Cyborg and company…there was a particular, chemical trait of air molecules in the red vapor produced by Red Aviary's….erm….'Destruction' essence. Essentially, the molecules in the air—both water and oxygen—merged together with polar bonds and formed quadruple chains of chaotic proportion."
"……okay….what's so special about that?" Smith shrugged.
The officer shrugged too. "I have no idea sir. But Cyborg said that the red-colored air was taking on a molecular structure identical to the chemical Zinothium."
"…….," Smith blinked. Face scrunching. "Zinothium?"
"Yes, sir."
"……..huh….," Smith gazed off. Scratching his chin. "I wonder what that means……….?"
-T-T-T-13-T-T-T-
SCHWISSSSH!
WHURRRR-CL-CLUNK!
The wide, metal sliding doors of Sedna Fields opened to the sub-basement hangars.
Six armed guards with heavy-armored suits and thick laser rifles raised dashed in through the doors and stood atop a metal balcony. Aiming their weapons all around. They hissed cold vapors from their breathing masks out into the dark…shadowy air.
A few seconds passed…
A wide, interior space of shadows stretched far ahead of them.
When it was 'safe', one officer held up a few fingers and motioned in.
Four more guards walked in. Well-suited. Wearing shades. They formed a meat shield circle around Lex Luthor.
Luthor walked in with a leather jacket and a hood covering his bald crown.
He approached the metal railing of the interior.
Lowering his hood…..
Exhaling….vapors showing…..
Gazing across the shadowy lengths of the huge underground hangars…..
Eyes thin…..
Lips pursed tightly. Impatient.
"……………."
He glanced down.
"……………"
A computer console with a wide plasma display rested on the edge of the rooftop.
Luthor placed his hand over the screen.
It lit up—Beep!
"Recognize….Authorization….Luthor, Lex…."
…..
…..
Bl-Bling!
An intense, ambient hum filled the place.
The guards—both armored and suited—tensed with their weapons raised.
A flashing light….and the plasma hand-reader lit up. Displaying a triforce of pulsing spheres. Two at the top….one at the bottom. Interconnected with plasma bolts of dancing, digitized lights.
A speaker system rang forth a hauntingly familiar, robot voice through the interior:
'I AM GLAD THAT YOU ARRIVED LIKE I SUGGESTED, MISTER LUTHOR. SEDNA FIELDS IS THE BEGINNING OF THE FUTURE FOR YOU.'
Lex Luthor gasped…nearly stumbling back into one of his very own guards. "B-Brainiac!"
'YOU DID NOT RECOGNIZE ME UNTIL NOW? I HAVE GREATLY OVERESTIMATED YOUR INTELLECT. UNLESS, OF COURSE, THE RECENT TOILS WITH 'TRIANGULAR' DISTRACTED YOU AND—'
Luthor shook a fist, sneered, and leaned forward towards the plasma screen. "BRANIAC! It was YOU who summoned me here! What have you been up to? What ghostly crap have you done to my infrastructure this time?"
'PLEASE DO NOT BE HASTY TO CONSIDER MY DEEDS MALICIOUS, LUTHOR.'
"So sue me…," Luthor leaned back. Frowning. "The first few times we've dealt with each other, the only good you've ever done is show me how mortal I am." He folded his arms. "Give me one good reason not to send an EMP shockwave straight into the heart of this facility and end you for good…."
'THERE ARE MANY REASONS FOR WHICH AN ATTEMPT AT DESTROYING ME WOULD BE FUTILE, MISTER LUTHOR. NEED I DETAIL THEM TO YOU? DAGGER BOASTS THAT HE IS THE EMBODIMENT OF THIS ENTIRE CONTINENTAL HEMISPHERE. IN MANY WAYS HE IS RIGHT. IN SIMILAR FASHION, I AM MORE THAN THIS CONSTRUCT YOU SEE BEFORE YOU. FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES, I HAVE BLENDED MYSELF WITH TERRA FIRMA'S GRAND DIGITAL HALLUCINATION. I AM THE INTERNET, MISTER LUTHOR. TO ERASE ME, YOU HAVE TO ERADICATE EVERY COMPUTER INTERFACE ACROSS THE GLOBE. I DOUBT YOU ARE AT A HIGH ENOUGH PLACE OF POWER TO ISSUE THAT.'
Luthor clenched his fists. Frowning. Sneering. "What…..do you want…..from me?"
'FOR ONCE OUR GOALS ARE THAT OF THE SAME. WHICH CONSTITUTES WHY YOU MUST NOT ATTEMPT DESTROYING ME, ASIDE FROM THE INHERENT IMPOSSIBILITY OF SUCH AN ACT.'
"Since when have our goals ever been the same?"
'SINCE WE WERE ENDOWED—BY WHATEVER CREATOR OR HAPPENSTANCE—TO POSSESS THE DESIRE FOR SURVIVAL. I AM IRREVERSIBLY STRANDED ON THIS TECHNOLOGICALLY INFERIOR PLANET AT THE MOMENT. THE ONLY HOPE I HAVE TO SURVIVE IS IF I FIND ASSISTANCE IN THAT VERY SURVIVAL. YOUR SEDNA FIELDS AND YOUR MOTHBALLED BUDGET PROGRAMS HAVE ASSISTED ME IN SUCH A DEPARTMENT. AND IF YOU ARE WISE ENOUGH TO WORK WITH ME, THEY WILL ASSIST YOU TOO.'
"Assist me in what?" Luthor shook a fist. "Some god-forsaken publicity stunt? This isn't like you, Braniac!"
'A LOT OF THINGS ARE UNCHARACTERISTIC OF ME, LUTHOR. GIVEN OUR CIRCUMSTANCES.'
"What's this doom and gloom you keep talking about?"
'IT WOULD BE MORE IMPACTING IF I SHOWED YOU WHAT IS NECESSARY TO HAVE AT HAND………'
KA-CLANKT!
CLANKT!
CL-CLANKT!
One by one, the lights lit up across the rooftop of the wide…spacious facility.
And immediately….Luthor gasped.
And his guarding subordinates all but dropped their weapons in gaping amazement.
For as Braniac 'illuminated' the interior….as far as the eye could see across the claustrophobic domain, dozens….scores…..hundreds of space shuttles and interstellar fighters of Terran design appeared. Fanned out. Locked and loaded. An armada of cosmic scale.
Rows upon rows of black-bellied, gray-topped sleek vessels.
Large enough to fit twenty men each. Pilots. Gunners. Engineers….the works.
"My….God……"
'I HAVE BEEN BUSILY INSTRUCTING THE AUTOMATIC FACTORIES OF SEDNA TO PRODUCE THESE FIGHTERS EN MASSE……'
Luthor gaped. "Th-There must be….h-hundreds of them! Th-Thousands--!"
'FIVE THOUSAND SIX HUNDRED AND TWENTY-EIGHT AND STILL COMING ON STRONG AS I RELATE THIS TO YOU.'
"……….," Luthor turned to the computer console. Breathless. "But….B-But how--?"
'I HAVE EMPLOYED HASTILY CONSTRUCTED NANOMACHINES COMBINED WITH SECRET BUREAUCRATIC ORGANIZATIONS ALL AROUND THE WORLD TO SALVAGE THE RESOURCES NECESSARY FOR THE PHYSICAL PRODUCT. NEARLY THE ENTIRE SUB-GEOTHERMAL LAYER OF THE BAJA PENINSULA AND CENTRAL MONGOLIA HAS BEEN EXTRACTED FOR ORE. THERE IS NOT ENOUGH FOSSIL FUEL ON THIS PLANET TO POWER THESE VESSELS, SO I HAVE INCORPORATED BLUE FUSION SUB-ENGINE TECHNOLOGY—KRYPTONIAN DESIGN—TO FACILITATE ADEQUATELY TOWARDS THE PREPARATION OF SHORT-RANGED, ORBITAL COMBAT.'
"Sh-Short-ranged, orbital—what?.!.?.!"
'THE NEXT STEP REQUIRES YOUR ASSISTANCE IN PRODUCING INTERSTELLAR, TERRAN DREADNAUGHTS CAPABLE OF HOUSING SUCH MINIATURE VESSELS AND CONSEQUENTLY EMPLOYING THEM TO—'
"Braniac, this is madness!" Luthor pointed at the massive armada. "What would I need an entire interstellar army for?" He growled. "Don't you know how I work? I am NOT about to take over the world through brute force anytime soon!"
'………MISTER LUTHOR, DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND? THIS ARMADA IS NOT FOR YOU TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD……BUT TO PROTECT IT.'
"………………."
'THE RING OF FIRE, MISTER LUTHOR. IT COMES SURGING SLOWLY. BURNING THROUGH THE GALAXY TO CONSUME TERRA FIRMA. AND THE RING OF FIRE WILL NOT BREAK ITS CURVED PATH FOR ANY SOUL, ANY PLANET, OR ANY CIVLIZATION. IT WILL COME, AND IT WILL BURN US COMPLETELY.'
"……………….," Lex Luthor stared blankly into Sedna Fields. The rows upon rows of dark-black cockpit glass stared back at him. Like the eyes of a million insect drones humming at ready.
'MY CALCULATIONS CANNOT BE ERRONEOUS. A WAR IS COMING, LUTHOR. A CRISIS. A CRISIS THAT THIS EARTH WILL BE AT A LOSS TO SURVIVE UNLESS WE ACT NOW.'
Luthor folded his hands. Eyes narrowing.
'………TOGETHER.'
-T-T-T-14-T-T-T-
The morning haze grew hazier and smokier along the craggy banks of the island.
One couldn't see clearly from one side to the other, due to the obscuring heaps of mangled metal and burning debris lingering every square foot in ash-laden sighs.
Titan's Island was a graveyard.
Cleanup crews and workmen lingered off in the background…devising a plan to scrap the mounds of debris tainting the entire area.
But in the center—alone and haggard—Raven wandered over heap and mountain. Ravine and crag. Bluff and peak.
She wasn't dressed traditionally….
That is to say—somewhere between the medics and Cyborg's caretaking and Starfire's insistence—Raven wore a warm pair of randomly supplied military issue slacks over her pale legs, and a thick green jacket over her upper leotard. Her blue strands blew in the wind…and with every other step she took, the jacket spread some and revealed the thick corset of bandages wrapped between her bust and abdomen.
And she was searching and searching and treading all over the debris…without a single hint of limping.
Raven was quite proficient at healing.
….most of the time.
"…………."
She walked and trudged and trudged until she came to a spot.
She paused….
"………"
She knelt down slowly.
Gracefully.
She flexed her fingers and stirred mounds and layers of debris and metal shrapnel of Tower pieces off from one another.
Violet eyes thin.
Concentrating.
"……………………."
"You know…..you always did choose the most gruesome spots in the world to meditate."
Raven continued searching. She replied without looking: "I'm not…..meditating…."
Cyborg finished walking up to a stop behind her. He shrugged. "That's what worries me."
"A lot of things worry you. Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"…….you know."
Silence.
Cyborg took a sad breath. He gazed down at the uneven ground past Raven.
"No….I don't think I do, Rae….," he glanced up at her. "I'm stupid, remember?"
"That's just an excuse."
"None will work."
Raven sighed.
She closed her eyes.
"Cyborg…….what happened with Clayface…….what happened to the Titans…..it was not your fault…"
Cyborg bit his human lip and gestured behind her back: "If you're willing to pardon me….why can't you pardon yourself?"
"……..," she ran a hand over her face….exhaled….calmed….brushed her blue bangs away….and continued digging through the epidermal layer of debris. "Some things just can't be helped, Cyborg. You know this. Some of those 'things' are people. And some of those people—"
"You can only help yourself, Raven," Cyborg nodded. "I know that. Finally, I know that."
"……….."
"But….it helps me….," he breathed. "It…..It h-helps me to….be near you. And I can't be near you and let you….beat yourself up and tear yourself apart for no reason…..I-I just can't……."
Silence.
Raven said the inevitable words: "Then I can't let that be either, Cyborg…."
A shudder ran through them both.
Though, it ran through Raven less.
She seemed colder…yet calmer. No less sympathetic….but no more soothing either.
She finally found what she was looking for under the rubble.
She shook it.
She unearthed it.
And brought it to the light.
In the hazy morning glow, the tattered remains of an eggshell canvass showed….with blonde strokes of an angelic gold illustrating wisps of hair…and swirls of peaceful sapphire making a pair of blue eyes. Half of Ana's body had been burned and ripped off. The scant parts that were left of her smiled in spite of the devastation and absurdity of life all around them.
"…..the good things in life….are impermanent," Raven said.
Cyborg's throat went sore. He averted his eyes from her. His exhale came out chokingly. He did his steely best to hide it….
She went on: "But….at the same time…the bad things are also impermanent…," Raven stood up. She gently turned the painting over in her grasp. "Accepting total doom is a fallacy. Even if it seems inevitable." She gazed up at Cyborg. "There can always be bright future for us, Victor. But when I say 'us'….I mean—"
"—friends," Cyborg uttered. Almost a grunt. He didn't try to sound remorseful, but the lines on his human brow grew darker as he shut his eyes and turned his head away. "….it's been said before. Only different thing about it now is…I should have expected hearing this from you a long, long time ago….and still it's tough…."
Silence.
He felt a gentle, small hand touching his.
He looked at her. Eyes opening….and blinking….
A tear was sliding down Raven's face. She made good show of it as she gazed into Cyborg and uttered in a soft tone: "I know it's devastating too. It…..always is….." And she fought back a sob with all her supernatural might.
And for that—as for many things—Cyborg could not bring himself from hugging her. He held her tightly to his chest, his hands gently wrapped about her shoulders. His voice was somewhat broken as he said: "I'll always be there for you, cutie. God help me….I could never let you just end up alone somehow. Not for anything in the god damn world….."
Raven bit her lip and squeezed moist eyes as she leaned against him. "I know, Victor. Something tells me that….after what happened to this City…to this Tower….to us…..I'll never really be alone…." She paused to take a shuddering breath. And finished: "But at the same time…I can't be like th-this….I can't be like the rest of you…..nor that close…."
"Can we….at l-least pretend?" he breathed. He held her tightly…as if she would suddenly slip away. "….R-Right here? Right now? What if we c-could just….imagine what it would be like, Raven….wh-what it would be like to face all this crap and somehow stay together……couldn't that b-be done?"
All she could do was shudder. And it took careful, careful strength to hold onto the half-portrait of Ana lingering in her grasp.
"N-Not permanently, Victor……..not permanently…."
-T-T-T-15-T-T-T-
On the North side of the Titans' Island…
To the surprise and somber elation of everyone…
The memorial had survived.
Tram's grave and the seven mounds for the other deceased Renzukka remained unaffected from the blast and plasma of the incinerated Tower.
And there I knelt.
To the side of the eight mounds.
Where a new one had been prepared.
With a rickety, makeshift 'cross' of wooden planks I had scrounged up.
The 'grave' had no body.
Just a name.
'Joey – Jericho. The Youngest and Most Angelic Teen Titan.'
I finished preparing the mound.
I remained frozen there.
My long threads of black being blown in the December wind.
I gazed through cheap, plastic shades beyond the shore of the island's beach.
Into the bright blue waters.
"………….."
A shuddering breath.
Vaporous in the cold air of winter.
I gazed down again at the mound.
I wish I could have given you peace.
Your heart……AND your body……
I reached my one right hand into my back pocket. I hadn't bothered to sport Batman's black prosthetic on my left limb. It was damaged enough as it was already.
All I have for you, Joey, is……
I pulled out the harmonica.
I traced the wooden and bright edges.
I exhaled.
I laid it down at the foot of the 'cross'.
I stood up…wincing some.
My outfit tattered and shredded from seeing days upon days of insane action.
I brushed some of my black bangs back and stared at the harmonica….the mound…the 'cross'…everything bodiless and empty….absent of the little annoying squirt who so heavenly pestered me when I so needed him most.
You were all about peace.
You were all about life.
And in the end, you were the strongest of us all.
"……………."
Ana would have loved knowing you……
You both would have loved………kn-knowing each other………
I closed my black eyes.
I turned around.
I walked away.
I scaled the edges of the former Tower's base.
The wreckage…the rising smoke….the ashes….
I gazed in the Center.
I saw Cyborg and Raven hugging.
I gazed to the South.
I saw Changeling and Tempest sitting side by side by the half-shattered docks.
I gazed to the West.
Robin and Starfire lingered besides the repair crew. Talking serious things.
"………………………….."
"…………………………..I know what you're thinking."
"…….?" I turned and glanced aside.
"I know what you'e thinking….or else I do a mighty fine job of bullshitting," the Messenger grinned. He sat cross-legged on a heap of metal shards just above me…so that he had to glance down at me as I glanced up at him and as ever the two of us had an awkwardly silent moment…..until he adamantly broke that silence like he always did: "But you're thinking that things will 'never be the same'. That….after Robin's supposed 'death', after Beast Boy moping with Terra's coming and going, after Slade's bloodlust and Dagger's powerlust and Tempest's wardrobe……..things won't ever be the same."
"……………"
He winked. "And that's a good thing, isn't it?"
"……………," I took a deep breath. I smiled ever so slightly…
"Once upon a time….it was important for you to go full circle to discover yourself, Noir….," the Messenger said. "Now….you had to break that very circle to improve that which you had discovered. And just what is the next course for you?"
"……………" I shrugged. I gazed at him. Waiting….
But he giggled: "Hehehehehe…..I'm asking you, silly bean."
I bit my lip.
Blushing.
He nodded, smiling like some age-old wizard. "Because I really have no damn clue what comes next. But—in your case—it can only be a good thing." He leaned forward. "If you manifest it yourself….you got me?"
I simpered.
I nodded….
"Pragmatically….life is a line. We take responsibility for what we choose to do in life. And we have goals…destinies that we all must strive to achieve at the end of all things. I think you've got an open window for yourself, Noir. And you can do whatever you want with it. You've more have earned that….haven't you?"
I gazed again around the island. At my friends. All that which was still living and breathing.
Not Ana.
Not Joey.
Life.
And I couldn't help but feel…..
……warm…..inside.
Warm, but confused.
I gazed up at the Messenger.
My head leaning to the side.
As inquisitive and as curious as ever.
And the little asian shrimp knew it.
"What?.?.?" he smirked. "So what if some of us are two-dimensional morons who only want good in the world! Even if it's not our world……"
I planted my hand on my hip and pouted up at him…a trailing smirk.
"Heh heh heh….quite the stalker you are. Do you really want to know why I'm always butting my handsome head into things in this googly-eyed universe of yours?"
"……………"
"Well, allright…..," he said in a sing-song tone and leaned back as he gestured: "I am the Messenger. But I'm sure you know that. What you don't know is that there are many…many Messengers. Countless numbers of them. All existing just to give the space-time continuum a headache."
"…………..," I blinked.
"Essentially…," he said, "….we all act as the knowledgeable glue that holds together the infrastructure of an interstellar force known as….the Angel Spears." A beat. He glanced at me funny. "You know who the Angel Spears are….right?"
"……..," I slowly shook my confused head 'no'.
"Heh heh…," he smiled. His almond eyes thinned. "Of course you don't."
ZAAT!
And he was gone.
"…………………."
I ran a hand through my hair.
Sighing.
I both hope t…… and hope not to see you again……
……pal.
I gazed off towards the distance.
My black eyes thinned.
I spotted dark, muscled forms across the Bay….
-T-T-T-16-T-T-T-
The Wildebeests…
The survivors…
The bovine army…
They trudged up the southern shoreline.
Gathering in a thick line of silver crests, brown hair, and straight snouts.
The cloned army of able-bodied beasts gathered in a thick pool around the Elder.
He stood with his staff. Gray fur and hair drifting, wafting in the breeze. Cold vapors billowed out of his nostrils. With gray eyes blinking, he raised his snout and let loose a breathy…..long winded growl into the air.
The thicker-lunged masses raised their snouts and crowns and grunted together in a melancholy utterance. Mixed victory and anguish. Pride….for the battle won and the Destruction defeated. Sorrow…..for the loss of their brethren in battle.
And most of all….
A mournful wail….
For the young angel among them that was lost.
Consumed—fatefully—by his very own father.
They turned their hairy heads…
Carried their elder gently….
And in a rumbling march of strength and reverence…
Disappeared in dwindling thunder into the forests…
And faded in the shadow of themselves.
Vanished—again—underground.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"So…uhm….Cl-Clark……what about the League?"
"The League is needed elsewhere," Superman said. "Or at least…we will be." He turned and faced Supergirl on the southern edges of the Bayside Plaza where dozens of soldiers and workmen were quickly hauling military equipment around and making room for transport vehicles to roll on through. The Man of Steel continued: "The Titans can handle their own in this City now. Their people need them. Not us." A half-smile. "We were just…….the b-backup crew."
Supergirl folded her arms over her chest and smiled. Sly….but a half-effort subtly filling her lips. "You were some backup crew."
Superman looked at her steadily for a short while. He narrowed his eyes. "Kara…is there something you're wanting to tell me?"
She took a deep breath. She gazed aside….her blonde threads blowing in the breeze. She sighed…..
"Kara?" Superman walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Is something wrong?"
She shook her head. And her subtle smile grew vaguely stronger. "N-No, Clark……quite the contrary. I…..I think I've found where I'm supposed to be."
"……………," Superman stared.
Supergirl hugged herself, exhaled, glanced aside, and breathily spoke: "I-I know that I may not be the most perfect superheroine….I-I've made some pretty bad mistakes, and I do tend to go in over my head when it comes to things. Heck, I even had some tough trouble staying alive through this battle. That's the last time I ever fly full force into a sword wielding reaper of Death! Heh…..but……b-but it all felt so good. And so worthwhile. And I know you care for me and all. And I know you want me to live my life out so that the 'last girl of Argos' isn't killed off or whatnot but—"
"Kara…," Superman waved a hand. "If you want to become a Titan, that's ultimately Robin's decision. Not mine."
Supergirl gasped.
She turned and looked up at him…blinking.
He smiled. He shook his head and said: "Let's admit…..I'm too busy being the protector of Metropolis. Not your nanny."
She bit her lip. Her lips curved.
"Although….," the Man of Steel scratched the back of his neck, glanced aside, and uttered with a trailing smile: "Bruce and John and I have been talking about rebuilding more than one Watchtower and possibly creating a new fresh wing of the Justice League, and you'd be perfect for—"
Swooosh! Th-THWUMP! She gave him a super-human hug.
He gasped at first…then smiled and hugged her back.
She hid his face in her chest and exhaled…..eyes tearing. "I won't let you down, Clark. I promise…"
He stroked the back of her shoulders and said back to her: "What's important to me….is that you don't let yourself down, Kara…."
"…….," she gazed off. Across the Bay. The Island that lie under an ever-thinning plume of smoke. "I think I'm done thinking about myself…." She said. A pause. Then she murmured, almost-off topic: "Robin's starting a meeting soon. One that's…..important for his teammates. Important for the Titan's future…."
Superman gazed down at her. Cupping her chin with his fingers. "Then what are you doing here?"