Aftermath: Once the rest of the Titans had returned (Omega had tried to insist that they finish their vacation, but of course, not one of them listened), they assembled in the conference room for a debriefing. Omega and Kitten both shared their versions of what happened, and the group reviewed the sketchy news reports and videos, of which there weren't many. And most of those were of very poor quality. Nonetheless, at super slo-mo, it wasn't difficult to more or less follow the action. Kalibak hadn't even been able to land a decent blow; Omega had basically pounded him into mush with almost ridiculous ease. After the clips were over, and information shared, they turned to look at him.

He couldn't meet their gaze, but looked steadily at his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry. I completely and totally lost control. If Kitten's future self hadn't contacted me….." He trailed off.

"Dude," said Beast Boy, "remind me never to get you mad at me."

"Omega?" Robin began, "Look. This….isn't, like, the end of the world for you or anything. I think I speak for us all when I say we've all had times when we really wanted to just plain hurt someone, badly. You have more power than most, so you have to exercise more self-control than most. Do you think you can do that? If you don't think so, or if you aren't sure, tell us now. There are ways we can help you."

Omega took a deep breath, a human gesture he'd learned, as he really didn't need to breathe. "I believe I can, Robin. It won't be easy, though. But I have made a beginning. And I believe that I have," and here, he reached under the table, to take hold of Kitten's hand, "sufficient incentive now." She smiled back at him.

Hooo, boy, thought Robin. Kitten and Omega. Who'd have thunk it?

Omega addressed Raven. "Raven. I'm…sorry I hurt you. I understand you, uhm, fainted? Or something? At my, my outburst. Will you accept my apologies?"

"It's alright, Omega. A certain someone was trying to persuade me to wear that piece of string that passes for a bathing suit anyway, so, frankly, that gave me as good an out as any." And she glared, albeit fondly, at Hank, who smiled sheepishly. "I still think you'd look good in it," he said.

"Maybe in private. Maybe. But don't get your hopes up."

Robin's communicator chimed; there was someone at the front door. He pulled up the feed from the outside security cam, and saw Killer Moth standing at the front door, impatiently tapping his foot. "Uh, Kitten? Your dad's outside."

Kitten and Omega looked at each other. "Uh oh," they chorused.

…..

Robin escorted Kitten and Omega into one of the private conference rooms, one with a flat screen TV in it. Killer Moth was already there, sitting in one of the chairs, watching the news cast footage of the "mysterious newest member of the Teen Titans" as she froze the parademon. The clip ended shortly thereafter, as Kalibak walked up behind her and swatted her aside. They all saw Omega launch himself at Kalibak…..and the clip ended, as the thunderclap of impact shattered the camera.

Killer Moth swiveled his chair towards them. "Well?" he said, "Who wants to go first?"

Both of them opened their mouths, but Omega got his words out first. "Mr. Moth, please. It—it was all my fault, really. If it hadn't been for me, Kitten would've never rushed into danger like that. I accept full responsibility for all that transpired. I am to blame, not her. She was only trying to help; I was the reason she was there in the first place. The blame is mine."

Killer Moth stared at him for a few moments. "Young man, I admire your desire to absolve my daughter of any and all responsibility in this matter, but I know her—and you—far too well to think that you in any way had any part in persuading her to rush into battle by your side. Let me guess what really happened: you sensed trouble, told her to go home, or stay safely at the Tower, she agreed, and then followed you anyway. Am I close?" Their expressions told him what he had already guessed. "That's what I thought."

"So I guess now I'm grounded for life, huh, Dad?"

He sighed. "No, Kitten. You aren't."

"I'm not? Uh, I mean, thanks, but….why not?"

Killer Moth got up and approached his daughter. "Honey, this is gonna be hard for me to say, but it still has to be said, regardless. Before I begin, you do know that you'll always be my little girl, right? You know that, don't you?"

She put her arms around him, even as he put his around her. "Yeah, Dad, I know."

"Won't matter if you're ninety years old, if I'm still alive, every time I see you, I'll see that beautiful baby girl your mother and I brought home from the hospital that wonderful day. And no matter what path you choose to take, whether supervillain, superhero, or plain, ordinary citizen, it doesn't matter; I'm gonna be there for you one hundred ten percent. For as long as I draw breath.

"And I know I haven't been the best dad in the world, either. I wish—well, I wish lots of things had been different."

"Stop talking like that," she said, her face still buried up against him. But her voice broke.

"But the simple truth is, you're no longer a child. You're a young woman now, a young lady, and you can—in fact, you have to—start making your own decisions. And, -and this is the hard part, for me, at least—you have to start becoming—no, you have to start taking responsibility for both the rewards and the consequences of your actions. I can't make your decisions for you anymore. Although you'll always be my little girl, you're no long a little girl. I can't protect you from the big bad world any longer. If I ever could in the first place." And he hugged her all the tighter, as though never wanting to let her go. "It's not gonna be easy for me, but I have to at least try, at some point, to start letting go, letting you become your own person, so I hope you'll forgive the old man if he sometimes slips back into his old habits…."

Tears were running down her face. "Daddy…."

"Uhm, I'll be right outside," began Omega, feeling as though he should give them some time alone, but Killer Moth cut him off. "You'll do no such thing, son. Come over here." And he released Kitten, and turned to them both. Took each of their hands in his own. "I think every girl's father has this fantasy, sort of, that, someday, before long, before he gets too old or something, some nice—no, make that some really terrific young man will come along and sorta take over where he left off, protecting his daughter, loving her, taking care of her as they travel down life's roads together. I don't think that actually happens very often any more, if it ever did in the first place, but maybe something like that has actually taken place here. Maybe, just maybe, someone has come along." And he gave Omega a sideways glance, placing Kitten's hand in his. Kitten blushed even redder than her by now usual coloration.

"Really?" asked Omega. "Who?" They both looked at him. "Oh." He rubbed the side of his face, another gesture he'd learned from humans. "Uhm, I knew that." And the laughter that resounded throughout the room was like a healing balm on everyone's hearts.

….

After a while they sobered. Killer again spoke. "But I didn't come here just to make a Kodak moment. I remembered something that might help in what I assume is your ongoing investigation into Kitten's transformation."

"Really?" Kitten asked, "You know who did this to me?"

"No, no, all I have is a suspicion, but I think when you hear what I have to say, you'll understand why I think there's a high probability that this individual may be the one you're looking for. Or at least may know something." He held up a flash drive. "This is all the info I could easily locate on him…." And he offered it to Omega.

"If it's alright with both of you," said Omega, "why don't we share this data with the group as a whole? They may have valuable insight."

"Good idea."

It felt a little strange, thought Robin, to have one of their (former?) enemies, well, actually two, if one counted Kitten, sitting at the same conference table as the rest. Killer Moth had given him the flash drive, and he'd placed it in an especially well-protected computer to read it. Killer Moth was, after all, a known villain, and Robin saw no reason not to exercise a little caution.

Killer Moth had the floor. "When I was studying for my doctorate at the Sorbonne, in Paris, I had a professor. His name was Dr. Herbert Quincy DeVille. He was easily the most brilliant man I've ever known, and he was exceptionally hard on his students. He cut us no slack whatsoever. Some of us nicknamed him 'Dr. Devil' due to that, and the coincidence of his name, but there was no denying his genius. Not everybody could keep up with what he taught. I was one of the lucky few who didn't either flunk out or drop the course entirely to avoid that.

"He held numerous degrees, too many, in fact, to list, but some of the ones I remember are advanced degrees in biology, microbiology, virology, physics, genetics, mathematics, etc, etc. Plus climatology. He was known, and somewhat notorious, for his unique and controversial views on global warming: he was in favor of it. I remember someone asking him once, at a conference somewhere, if he thought global warming was man-made or not. His response was, and I quote: 'If it's not, it ought to be.' He saw the overall increase in the temperature of the Earth's environment as an increase in potentially usable energy. He was of the opinion that mankind should be looking for ways to adapt to a warmer planet, and maybe even profit from it."

"Well, all that's…..unusual, I admit," mused Robin, "but I don't see how it ties in with what happened to Kitten."

"Dr. DeVille was of the opinion that humanity was on the very cusp of the next stage of human evolution. He was involved in mapping the human genome, and had done some impressive work in that field. But what brought him to my mind so recently was two things: one, he believed humanity should take control of its evolutionary destiny, and…."and here he paused, drawing a deep breath. "…an off-the-cuff remark I once overheard him make. I thought he was joking, and maybe at the time he was, but…..he told someone, a colleague of his, that, if he had any say in the matter, he'd give human beings prehensile tails. With a poison stinger on the tip. He thought such a modification would be useful."

There was dead silence around the conference table. Kitten brought up her tail, and they all looked at the barbed stinger on the end.

Killer Moth continued. "I'll admit, it could just be sheer coincidence. However, he did drop out of sight of the public some years ago, and no one's heard from him since."

"That," began Robin, "would have to be an awfully improbable coincidence. Yeah, I see why you brought this up. How long has he been, uh, gone from the public eye?"

"Well, let's see," Killer Moth thought, scratching his head, "Kitten was three at the time, so it must have been about fifteen years ago. Frankly, I never kept all that much track of him—it's not like we were personal friends or anything-, but I did always admire his intellect, and followed his academic publications as much as I could. Then, like I say, they just stopped all of a sudden. And nobody I've spoken with seems to have any knowledge of his whereabouts."

Robin narrowed his eyes, a gesture his mentor would've found familiar. "Hm. I'll check with the League, see if they have anything on a Herbert Quincy DeVille. In the meantime…."

"Uh, Robin? I know I'm a supervillain and all, but would it be permissible for me to get a look at the retrovirus responsible for my daughter's mutation? I, uh, do know a thing or two about biology, and maybe, just maybe, I could help. After all, I do have a personal stake in it."

"Omega has those files. I…don't see any harm in allowing you to just look at them. Omega? Will you take care of that? I need to place a call to the Watchtower."

"Of course, Robin." And he led Killer Moth and Kitten down to his room. While he was pulling up the data on the retrovirus gleaned from the electron microscope photos he'd taken, Killer Moth looked around the room. Everything was in order, neat and tidy, the bed made and straight. Kitten had told him that had been where she'd slept while she was recuperating, and she'd finally confessed that once, and once only, she'd insisted Omega stay in that bed with her one night, even though he didn't really sleep. She'd sworn to him that they hadn't had sex, and, strangely enough, he believed her. With anybody else, he probably wouldn't have, but something about the alien warrior just seemed to inspire a certain amount of confidence in him. Strange. In a weird sort of way, he actually trusted the alien as much or more than he did his own daughter.

But, being her father, he couldn't help but wonder just how long it would be until they did Do the Deed, in one form or another. He hoped it wouldn't be too soon. After all, they were both rather young…..

And yet, Stacey and I were young once, too. Oh, darling, I miss you so.

"Mr. Moth? These are the photos of the retrovirus I was able to glean from one of the mutated mosquitoes I found in your house."

Killer Moth sat at the terminal and looked at the picture on the screen. Omega couldn't really tell, given the human's altered biology and appearance, but it seemed to him that he turned a shade paler than usual. "Omega? Do you mind if I minimize this and do a quick web search? I need to confirm something." After Omega assured him it was alright, he opened another browser window and swiftly googled up several academic and medical websites. He searched them thoroughly. Omega and Kitten exchanged looks: what could he be searching for?

Finally, he spoke. "Holy Christ. There's no doubt. I know now what virus the retrovirus was engineered from. And it's not good."

"What? Daddy, tell us!"

Killer Moth pulled up both screens, showing a side-by-side comparison of the altered virus and another one, presumably unaltered. "It's bad, honey. Really bad. We can all thank our lucky stars that the retrovirus that you were infected with was specifically tailored to you, and you alone. I know you don't like what happened, but it could've been a whole lot worse."

"Why, Mr. Moth? What virus pattern was used to create this retrovirus?"

Killer Moth drew a deep breath. "I've checked and rechecked. See those protein chains?" And he pointed to the two browser windows. "They're the key. They're not identical, but they are close enough to indicate one's unmistakably related to the other. I was hoping I was wrong but….."

"But what, Daddy? Tell us, for crying out loud!"

"The retrovirus was mutated from Ebola Zaire."

To be continued…..?

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