Author's Note: Here I am again. I've discovered two very important things while up here at college. One, I really can only write when I'm alone. Two, I'm almost never alone. Except on the toilet or in the shower and even then people can just walk in. But we're figuring it out, slowly but surely. I have a 4.0, so there's a plus. You probably don't care too much but at least it shows I've not just been sitting around doing nothing. On the bright side, we're almost there. This, another chapter, maybe an epilogue, then we're finished! Ya! Then we get started with something new with probably similar themes, but I could attempt another direction. If you have opinions, let me hear them. Next story's looking to be on the dark side, but it plays nicely in my head. Abyway, after a year of waiting, here's chapter 18 to anyone who's still there! You people are wonderful!
Disclaimer: I remain unsuccessful in my attempt to own anything… We'll get there eventually.
He'd done the right thing. Facts were facts and that was a fact. The world was in danger and when the world is in danger heroes do what it takes to save it. Sometimes that meant slaying dragons or ogres and sometimes it meant solving deadly riddles. He was a hero and Zinara a deadly riddle if ever he'd seen one. It was his duty, to himself and the universe, to solve what she was planning, how she was planning to do it, and why. So he'd gone and asked, gotten the answers they needed, and brought them closer to success. It was the right thing to do. So then why was he sneaking around like the ground was covered win eggshells and the Stasi was after him? If he'd done the right thing then why did he feel so guilty? Why did he find himself hoping against all reason that the tremors that had shot through the Tower like a cold shiver had only been felt by himself and Zinara? What was he so afraid of?
The door to their living room slid open, causing Robin to flinch at the sound and hesitate at the threshold. The room was dark, darker than usual. Like a starless new moon. It took him a minute to realize that the silver night-light wasn't absent, just being blocked and filtered by the same, grey film that had separated the Safe Room. The Tower was growing some new, coiling appendages out from its stem. No, growing wasn't quite the right term for it; the floor of the room sloped towards the spirals' base like water pulled into a cyclone. The Tower was shifting, pulling matter from the existing structure to form its new one. 'Well, that's disturbing,' he thought despairingly, stepping into the room and letting the doors close again. 'At least it can't get any worse from here.' The lights flooded the room, blinding and disorienting him for an instant, then settling as a fine powder of sulfur ash over the one thing that could have made his day any more awful. There sitting on the back of the couch, legs crossed, hand holding up the rooms general remote, face blank, eyes focused right on him, was Starfire. And she was so far past angry it was terrifying. There is no deadlier riddle than woman, and She cannot be solved.
"Hello Robin," Starfire said icily, mouth barely moving, eyes unblinking. "I trust you have been very productive since I politely asked you to sleep."
"Star, let me explain," he said submissively, holding up his hands like they could defend him.
"There is nothing to be explained. I asked you to sleep and you did not. I asked you not to talk to our prisoner until morning when we could all assist and you disregarded my request."
"I didn't mean to ignore you or make you feel like I don't care about-"
"Oh, so you did not intend to forsake what I told you to do for what I told you not to do?" She'd either developed a taste for the human female trait of verbal mockery or was honestly trying to lift him out of the hot water. Robin couldn't tell. "You were coerced?"
"Well, no, that's not what I mean, I-"
"Do not try to confuse me with you human idioms!" She brought the remote control down onto the edge of the couch forcefully. Cyborg had specifically designed their couch to withstand the great impact of Titans playing video games and to maximize "durability, cushiness, and style", so it was a pretty sturdy work of art. Starfire's hand left a half-foot dent in the titanium frame, ripped the red over cover, spilled the fluffy white stuffing, and crushed the remote into two pieces. They clattered to the floor as Robin flinched and the lights flickered. Her face remained impassive. "If you are unable to say what you mean, then perhaps you should refrain from saying anything at all."
A 'Yes ma'am' tugged at his throat, but he held it in. "Starfire," he tried gently, like trying to calm a raging mare. "I'm not trying to confuse you, and I understand what you're saying-"
"So you did not understand me before? Was there a flaw in my English?"
"No, no your English is fine. I understood you."
"No, you did not!" She got to her feet, landing hard on the ground, but not daring to move any closer to him for fear of what she would do. "You did not understand because if you had understood my request you would not have done this!" Robin looked away, ashamed. The casualties of our actions are never who we'd like nor whom we intended. Her voice was trembling with either rage or tears when she spoke again, but Robin couldn't bring himself to look at her long enough to figure out which. "You would not have ignored my feelings if you had understood what they are. You would have waited for us and you would have been safe."
Robin looked up at her hesitantly, her pinched lips and bagged eyes inflicting more pain than any blow she could deal. He made a motion as if to move forward. With a look she held him at bay. "I didn't realize-"
"No you did not," she cut, still not moving her gaze. He felt like an ant trapped under a magnifying glass in the sun, slowly being burned away by her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry? You did not understand. You were stupid. Untrustworthy." He almost winced, almost leapt to his own defense. That would have been stupid, stupider than neglecting her in the first place. Robin was clearly in the wrong, his only hope was to apologize and pray for redemption.
"I'm sorry I hurt you," he said earnestly, still not moving from the door.
"Not that you talked to the siren before we were ready?" He couldn't bring himself to respond to that one. In his mind he had done the right thing and the fact that the Tower had broken before he'd finished the interrogation only justified this belief. Things had been set in motion, things they needed to stop, needed to comprehend. If Starfire thought that was wrong then she was right, he didn't understand, nor could he. Justice has no emotional ties; it is unbound by love or loyalty. Sometimes, in order to attain it, one has to cast off those ties too. What he'd done in talking to Zinara may have been insensitive, stupid, maybe even cruel and irrational, but it wasn't wrong so he couldn't be sorry. Starfire saw it in his eyes and let out a sigh, relaxing her shoulders. "Are all human males so contradictory?"
"Just the arrogant pigs."
Robin jumped about a foot in the air, spun wildly trying to locate the voice and find his belt at the same time. Over in the kitchen area, leaning casually against the cabinets, watching the entire interchange with a disappointed look, was Cyborg. "Sleep loss made you dull, man," he said calmly. "Should've listened to your girlfriend."
"How long have you been here," he demanded, embarrassed both by the fact that his private spat was, in fact, quite public and that he'd failed to notice the giant, glowing, blue cyborg until he'd spoken. So much for the superiority of trained senses and a disciplined mind.
"Since a little before Starfire came storming in here to wait for you a couple hours ago," he answered indifferently. "Bad move, man, seriously bad move. If you'd really thought that starting a few hours earlier was that important, you could have come and gotten us! We could have interrogated the harpy together! But you had to go it alone. You always have to go it alone."
"Ummm, she's half siren. Not a harpy."
"I know that. It's called me trying not to swear."
"I thought you were asleep."
"Yeah, Rob, like I'm gonna get more than a few hours sleep while my best friend sits in our interrogation room 'cause he's possessed or something? You really are certifiable."
"Look, I didn't want to disturb you guys, ok? You're under enough stress and deserved a few hours of peace and quiet."
"Whatever. We all know that's not why you left us out of the loop."
"You're my friends. It's perfectly natural for me to want to let-" Starfire grabbed the couch with one hand and sent it flying across the room. It crashed into the wall between the boys, shaking the Tower again and spraying them all with cement dust.
"That is not natural," she shouted, fully extending her arm towards the new spires protruding from the Tower. "It is not natural for friends to fight friends. It is not natural people to hear things or for someone to not be himself. It is not natural for women to come out of men's chests or for stones to become flesh or for buildings to grow or teammates to ignore each other! None of this is natural! It is dangerous."
"Starfire," Robin said, voice strained and eyes looking at an undeterminable location. "We don't have time for this!"
"We will make the time! We must solve our problems before we attempt to stop anything."
"Yeah! Robin, you need to-"
"You stop talking!" Cyborg fell silent, eyebrow raising in restrained indignation. "If we hope to fight the siren then we must stop fighting each other. She is a danger unlike anything we have fought. We do not know what she can and cannot do, why she does what she does, or if she can disfigure us as she's disfigured Beast Boy. We do not even understand how she exists yet you hope to defeat her. Robin, it was foolish for you to seek her alone. What if she had attacked you? What if she had done something you did not anticipate? What if you had underestimated her and she was able to use your body as she uses Beast Boy's?" Robin opened his mouth to make his own case, but she raised a hand and continued. "She knows more about us than we do about her, you wanted to 'even to odds', I believe is the phrase. These things I know. It was still foolish. You put yourself in danger, danger you would not allow us to protect you from. Can you not understand we were worried? Do you not know we cannot afford to loose anyone else to her? We are not such frail creatures that we cannot fight for our friends, Cyborg and I, but what would our Team do without you? Or worse, fighting both you and Beast Boy. You should have come for us first. You should have trusted us, Robin. It saddens me that you do not."
"Starfire, I do trust you. I trust all of you. It's just..." Robin looked around desperately, trying to find what exactly it was that he meant to say. He couldn't be wrong, he just couldn't, but neither could she. Cyborg gave him an expectant, patronizing look as Starfire's bright eyes shined in anticipation of conflict resolution. He let out a long, pained sigh, dropping his protesting hands in defeat. "You're right," he muttered.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," pushed Cyborg, cupping one ear with his hand.
"You're right!"
"And?"
"And I shouldn't have gone in there alone."
"And," asked Starfire sweetly, but with an edge that told him 'say the wrong thing and you might just die'.
"And I should have gone to sleep when I was told. And," he continued, preempting them both of them. "If I couldn't sleep I should have talked to you because you would have understood and indulged me like you always do and then we could have all gone as a Team and taken care of it together."
"As things are, we'll just have to make due with the information we insensitive renegades gathered on our own." Everyone jumped at the sound of Raven's voice, each person looking in a different dark corner for the empath. Somehow, she managed to step out from behind all of them, her cloaked figure emerging from a darkness no one could really say hadn't been there the entire time. She tugged her hood into place and moved toward them, seeming to glide instead of walk. "We put it together and we might just stand a chance in saving the world before it ends this time."
"Where have you been," demanded Cyborg, hand over his heart like she'd just dropped a toy spider onto his shoulder. Raven's mouth twisted into something that might have resembled an ironic, guilty grin, her eyes hidden in shadow.
"I've been to see Beast Boy... and Garfield." They were all quiet for a minute, trying to process what she'd said, then gave up and asked her simultaneously.
"Huh?"
"Come again?"
"Please, there is a difference?"
Raven raised her hands, that forsaken, creepy, mockery of a smile still playing on her lips. "We have a lot to discuss and not a lot of time to do it." They all glanced at each other, none quite content with the situation nor able to truly believe it was anything but neglectful to continue dealing with personal issues until after the present crisis had passed. If it passed.
"Then by all means," said Starfire, taking the initiative to walk stiffly past the broken couch and sit down at the kitchen bar. "Let us 'get started'."
Zinara stood looking out at the blue black of sea-night, pensive. She'd changed from Beast Boy's unflattering green top and shorts into an outfit made from the remnants of her draped prison. Flowing, almost glowing white cloth swept about her body like a steady tide from a golden torque about her neck, similar golden bands fastened just below her shoulder securing sea foam sleeves that slid along her arms and pooled on the floor. Her hair, still long and wild, seemed more in place, gently caressing the contours of her face and neck then spilling down her back. A frail form looked more like a spider's web than twiggy sparrow, thin but impossibly strong and dangerous, as the mismatched avian and human parts folded into one, almost divine entity. Perhaps it was the anticipation of the moment itself, like the tremble of fearful cold just as the dawn pulls all light inside, was responsible for these changes. Much of her current position shouldn't have been possible or seemed discontinuous, but then so much of Zinara was discontinuous. It was this impossibility she used to define herself. Am almost smile swelling then receding in her golden eyes; she loved the romance of it.
She surveyed the dark as a painter stares at a blank canvas, seeing what it would become in a vision far more real than anything she could remember. The creator, rain of a new world, standing at the cusp of heaven, wearing the chains of the past as a crown, ready to pour glorious change across the people. Of course, at the cost of her own life, all energy must come from somewhere and only a true God can create life without spending it. However, as much as this price frightened some, it exhilarated Zinara. After all, what nobler, what more virtuous, more romantic and idealistic way was there to die than in the name of true belief? What better way existed to prove how selfless she was being, how pure and honestly good intentioned? Soon her dream would break across the world, bathed in the light of a new dawn and a new life. There was no denying Zinara also found the sheer poetry of it appealing. Finally, the time had come. The stillness before the freedom of chaos. Perfection.
Yet even now something tugged at her, some thorn caught in her flesh binding her to the skeptical. At this point there should have been no fear or regret, no notion other than pure satisfaction. Unadulterated success and bliss. Such was not the case, and it confused her. Her life had reached its zenith, shouldn't that have been enough? That which she had sought for so long, had tied her very being to, was at hand. Shouldn't she have felt... certain? But no, she wasn't certain. She wasn't sure or confident or anything she thought she'd be. No, the feeling in her gut was one she'd sworn to forget, one she had refused to feel since setting out on this quest lifetimes ago. Fear. Why? The black gazed back, unwilling to yield its answers.
Garfield stared at her from behind, leaning against a coiled shell of a pillar, arms folded. Unlike her, he felt nothing. No anxiety, no restraint, no second thoughts. For him this was just the first of many a radical and dangerous steps toward his ultimate goal. A goal she couldn't understand, nor wanted to. Perhaps that was what frightened her. She who had planned and lived this life was no longer steadfast and he who wanted it solely for his own gain was sure. A monster, as Robin had called him. Garfield was no monster, he was just free. Free and innocent, able to both help and remain faultless. Zinara had offered him that and he'd accepted... all of him had accepted. That was all there was to it. Robin was understandably worried and to manipulate her into inaction he'd made up stories and lies. To believe otherwise was to admit that she was on the cusp not of genesis but of genocide. All her efforts to make the world better for everyone had brought nothing but pain and what she thought to be the climax of achievement was merely a façade for world destruction. She couldn't do that. Couldn't continue existing forever with no purpose or worse, to serve as an example of the redeemed villain who'd turned from devastation at the last minute. Zinara wasn't evil and she had no evil intentions. Garfield though... Was Robin right about Garfield? If he was... then...
"You're awfully quiet," his low voice observed, almost startling her though she was aware of his presence. "Savoring the moment?"
"Yes, in my own way," she answered, turning to peer over her shoulder. Zinara had little experience with what could be called physical attractions or handsome men, but in the shadow and grey light, clothing rugged and features set, eyes intense, she couldn't help but feel girlish. Here was her knight in shinning armor, as the idiom goes, the man who'd rescued her, who'd listened to her, trusted her and shown her kindness. Her mind had shown her much more, things they could do together once the quest was complete, happily ever after past the sunset if she dared believe. If nothing else, he could miss her when she'd martyred herself and tell tales of her strength. In her prison these dreams as much as if not more than those of final success, pulled her through. Just looking at him steeled her resolve, living proof neither she nor he should ever be condemned for being different. He couldn't be evil. "And you? What are you doing in these final hours?"
"Planning for what's next." Short, emotionless, but in Zinara's ears it rang full of promises. She shook a loose lock of dusty brown hair out of her face and turned towards him, smiling coyly.
"You never make plans. What are you really doing?"
"Beast Boy never makes plans," Garfield corrected, his mouth twisting in an empty mirror of hers. "I'm not him."
"What do you mean by that? Of course you are. The Half-Heart doesn't change things, Garfield; it just splits them up. You know that."
"Yes, I know that. I also know what happens after. I know what happens to the original." Zinara turned back to the window sharply, her smile faltering.
"Well aren't you the clever one," she hissed playfully, though it came out sharper than she'd intended. "Shouldn't you be congratulating me right now? I am on the brink of Utopia, one I've worked for my entire life. I'm about to make everyone's lives better and you're off making plans."
"You think you'll make their lives better?"
"I made yours better." There was a low chuckle like a growl.
"That you did. Before I was just a little voice in the back of his head, a little ignored voice I might add. Now I'm out in the big bad world ready to do some damage."
"You make it sound so…"
"I'm not him, Zinara, and I never was."
"But I did you a favor, right?"
"Me? Yeah, you did me a huge favor. Gave me a life really." Zinara smiled to herself, fingering the neck of her dress thoughtfully. He straightened and moved behind her, shifting maybe. She didn't look to see. "Beast Boy though," he said conversationally, his voice much closer now. "Maybe not so much as far as he's concerned." Her breath caught like he'd hit her, her lips parting in speechless shock. "Why do you care? What's the sudden interest, Zinara? You've never wondered about this kind of thing before."
"It's just…" she started hesitantly. In all truth she was a little embarrassed about her insecurities, but if she couldn't share that with Garfield, then it would just stay locked up inside her, souring her victory. She didn't have anyone else to turn to nor would she let her destiny be tainted by a silly thing like fear. "Robin came to speak with me before it started."
"Ah, Robin. So the Boy Wonder has a name now," Garfield mocked, picking up a lock of her hair and twisting it.
"He said things… about you, about our plan. Bad things."
"And you believe him?"
"No! No, I don't."
"Then what's the hold up?"
"I just…" There was something in his voice, a careless, cold edge that made her pause. Something that made her feel cautious. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled it gently back, exposing her throat. "Garfield! What are you-"
"I can smell your fear," he said mildly, pressing his nose to her skull. "Now be honest with me, Zinara. What's got you worked up into such a tight little stress ball on your big night? It's not stage fright, is it?"
"Let go of me," she bit, clawing at his hand and pushing him away. He let go and backed up, grinning sadistically. "What do you think you're dong?"
"Reminding you of your purpose. You have one reason in this world and I think that if you have any issues that might hold you back you should resolve them now."
"What's gotten into you? You never used to be like this." Garfield gave her a long, disdainful look.
"I've always been like this. Whenever he's needed me I've always done what it takes to ensure his survival. But he's always been frail, weak. He lets himself be hurt. Sometimes I think he even seeks it out. This world is too dangerous for him; you know that as well as I do." Zinara flashed a fierce look in his direction, then, clenching her jaw, turned away to pout. Garfield gave a snort, reaching out to caress her hair. She didn't respond. "It's too dangerous for all of us. Zinara, don't tell me you've forgotten that? Don't tell me this new time has tricked you." She shifted uncomfortably, still refusing to look at him. He grinned, reaching down to clasp her avian hands, bringing his chin over her shoulder. "It's the same world."
"I know that."
"Maybe rationally. But you've met your first human since you last tried this. Robin is tricky and very good at what he does. He's a predator and people like you and me are his prey. Anyone the humans perceive to be unacceptably different is his prey."
"He's doing what he thinks is right. I can't fault him for that."
"You can when he's wrong."
"What if he's not wrong!" Zinara flinched at the truthful ring in her own voice and pulled away. For an instant she stared into Garfield's eyes, then, ashamed, looked away. "I'm scared, Garfield," she said with a gulp. "I'm afraid of the possibility that Robin's right." Garfield sighed, patronizing her.
"Did he offer any proof?"
"He offered you. He said I'd turned you into a monster. That I'd made you do things you would never have done without me." Her voice trembled just a little and her owlish eyes swung up to meet his pleadingly. Garfield snorted, amused.
"I am a monster. By letting me out you did push Beast Boy into a style of life he'd barely perused in his worst nightmares. The guilt is unimaginable, something you can sympathize with, I assume."
"If that's true then why would you have me keep going! Why would you tell me to do to this entire world what I've done to you!"
"Because it's necessary!" He grabbed her arms roughly, bringing her close to his face. For a moment he stared at her intently, eyes burning with an animalistic drive she'd never seen before. Then he relaxed, slackening his grip and rubbing her bare shoulders with his thumbs soothingly. "Pain is a part of change and if the new is to emerge some of the old must fade away. Both Beast Boy and I knew that when we chose to help you, and we did choose to help you. We're going to create a world without pain, you and I. Things may seem dark now but…" He raised one hand and brushed its back across her cheek, smiling manipulatively. "It's always darkest before dawn."