Chapter: 14
Livia didn't get the chance to stop and take in the magnificence that was the Watchtower, nor was she able to identify any of the Justice League members as Tim pulled her after him weaving in and out through the crowd of people. She didn't know where they were going if they were meeting with Raven or searching for Constantine or both. And Livia didn't know what to expect upon meeting this mysterious and distant relative. Would it be familiar, a sort of familial warmth upon meeting Raven…or would they feel removed from one another, strangers rather than family? Though in all technicality Raven wasn't really family, she wasn't a Baudelaire not even by blood. But they were connected in some way by their family tree and lived completely different lives because of that technicality.
Baudelaires typically did not meet up or interact with each other. It was a kind of superstition, taboo, too much chaotic energy within one place could mean catastrophic consequences. The fear of Klarion's return, the fear of witch hunters discovering a group of the family together, the fear of the curse activating and killing a large portion of the family if they remained together, it meant a lifetime of solitude. As soon as a child came of age, they were sent off on their own, it meant safety…it meant the best chance at survival. Through the centuries the Baudelaire family endured Klarion's curse alone, apart, until they dwindled. Dying off one by one until only Livia's branch of the family tree remained. Drained or poisoned by their magic, killed because of jealousy or fear…or even by their own hand. What once was twelve families that made up the Baudelaire line declined in one fell swoop to four, the four families that survived the initial ritual to steal Klarion's magic. Of those four only Livia remained…and she was in essence breaking that one rule of tradition by meeting Raven.
Even if Klarion's curse did not touch Raven, it felt wrong to disregard what was centuries' worth of prohibited interaction. But…it was also necessary. Perhaps a little childish, but necessary all the same. With the Baudelaire necklace back, Livia could try and enchant the pendant into an amplifier, a magical enhancer, for her mental abilities. So, while initially childish, Livia had invented a possible means to defend herself from these seemingly lost hours…if there was an external force controlling her—contributing to these deaths in some way—then Livia would be protected, her mind impenetrable to external magic. So perhaps disregarding centuries of rules was worth it. Besides, the curse was broken…Livia was free from death by her own magic, Klarion had no control here or throughout this interaction to get her necklace back, but still, that sense of foreboding remained.
Nerves about asserting her demands to Constantine…and perhaps nerves for meeting someone new. And perhaps a small part of Livia was worried everything would blow up in her face…leaving her lost forever with Klarion walking in her skin, or Constantine holding true to his threat of performing an exorcism—or worse—if even the slightest thing seemed out of place. But Livia couldn't focus on that, not with two mind readers coming to meet her and not when she needed to get her necklace back. So, Livia shoved that fear and nervousness to the back of her mind, strengthening her mental protections, as Tim guided her through the crowd.
They veered off from the main room, turning down a hallway, the sounds of the potluck fading away into the background. Tim let go of her arm and together they continued down the corridor until Tim reached for a panel, placing his hand over it. A scanner buzzed before a door appeared out of the wall, sliding to the side to reveal an opening into what looked like a meeting room. Consoles scattered the far end of the wall, huge windows exposed the starry black void that was space, a glimpse of the moon hanging in the corner glass panes with a long table spanning what remained of the room. They stood in silence, for a moment before Livia meandered over to one of the chairs that lined the table, sitting tentatively on one of its arms,
"He'll come…right?" Livia questioned, flattening the flowy tunic she wore along with leggings to hide her new tattoo. She didn't know how long that would last with her friends, and especially with Darren, but Livia knew hiding it from her family would be much easier than her very observant vigilante friends,
"He'll come," Tim confirmed, he sounded so certain…so at ease. Though there was a certain restlessness to him, in the light tapping of his foot, the pull at his lip with his teeth…the overall fact that he remained standing which made Livia feel as if she should stand as well, though she remained seated,
"Will she come?" Livia asked,
"She'll be here," Tim assured her, "Raven's probably talking with friends right now, catching up,"
"Oh…right," Livia murmured. Then realizing that perhaps Tim had friends he wanted to speak with, "I—uh—thank you for doing this. I'm sure you'd want to spend time with your friends instead of haggling an asshole magician with me,"
"Oh…no, I see plenty of them as it is," Tim muttered quite bitterly, a slight grimace crossing his face. Livia frowned at that, wondering what might be causing such a reaction within his inner circle of hero friends. But Livia also knew not to push such situations and didn't want to pry though she also dreaded the vast silence that would overtake the room if she left things off there,
"There are two Teen Titans, right? How does that work?" Livia wondered instead. Tim raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift in conversation but answered nonetheless,
"Yeah. I lead one group and Damian leads the other, think team Alpha and team Beta,"
"Which one is Alpha and which one is Beta?" Livia questioned, a slight teasing grin on her face as she waggled her eyebrows. Tim rolled his eyes, a smirk alighting his features,
"If you ask Damian, he'd say it's his team…but my team knows better,"
"Of course," Livia replied, chuckling lightly,
"Though I wish…," Tim started before breaking off, shaking his head and then starting once more, "…I sometimes wish Damian hadn't piggybacked off what I was doing." It seemed to Livia that Tim wanted to say something else, and curiosity prickled and perhaps some slight concern, but Livia wouldn't push the matter, not right then and there,
"Isn't that kind of your guys' shtick?" Livia mused. Tim raised an eyebrow in question, "I mean you all started with the same role, the same alias." Each of the Robins had been that exactly: Robins…following similarly in the same footsteps of the brother—or Stephanie—that came before them. The same identity, mantel even with the slight differences in methods, fighting styles, and mentalities. They had the same starting point, and they each moved on and grew in their own way,
"Not all of us," Tim sighed, Livia, opened her mouth to speak when a voice rang out from behind them,
"Well, well, well, seems you've decided to hold my merchandise hostage!" Livia gave an unreasonably undignified yelp as she scrambled to her feet, whirling around to find Constantine standing in the meeting room, hands in his trench coat pockets…and he did not look happy or amused,
"We're holding your merchandise hostage?!" Livia hissed, jabbing a finger in Constantine's direction, "Please, if anything it's you and your blackmailing assholery that is doing the hostageing!"
"Hostageing?" Constantine mused, raising an eyebrow a smirk quirking at the corner of his lips,
"Yes! Hostageing!" Livia snapped, crossing her arms, "Do you have my necklace?"
"Do you have what I asked for?"
"No," Tim stated levelly, speaking up for the first time, "We don't,"
"And here you go getting the capes involved in our quaint little you scratch my back I scratch yours mojo," Constantine grossed, "You know if you'd just done what I asked, you would have your necklace back by now,"
"Would I?" Livia demanded, "Have you even bothered to try and fix it? Or was it just a lie to see if I'd go through with giving you Darren's blood?"
"Why do you need it?" Tim's question was sharp, seeming to echo throughout the room, "What do you have need of an Anchor, or rather, an Anchor's blood for?"
"What's it to you?" Constantine scoffed, seeming unruffled by their confrontation,
"That Anchor happens to be my family, I won't let you use him regardless of what you're after magically and you manipulated my friend into almost acting behind our backs just to get what you want using a trinket, an heirloom, as a bartering piece…you'll tell me or you'll get nothing," Livia jerked her gaze from Constantine to Tim at that, surprised. Was Tim merely putting up a front that they had what Constantine wanted or was Tim truly ready to haggle with the magical detective over Darren's blood, "And if you need even more incentive to talk, I'm sure Batman and Zatanna would be very interested to hear what you're dabbling in especially if it involves working with an Anchor." Constantine chuckled at that, his grin bitter and his expression less than impressed,
"You don't scare me, little hero, I've faced worse than you, or Batsy or even little Zany," Constantine's grin turned into a sneer, his expression darkening, "It is none of your business what we magical folk dabble in nor how we conduct our business with our own kind…anyway, isn't magic outside your jurisdiction little Bat?"
"Well thankfully it is well within mine," a new voice stated, thin and monotoned…yet steady and sure. Livia along with Tim and Constantine shifted to look towards the doorway, finding a young woman standing in its frame. With purple tainted shoulder length hair and pale skin; there was no resemblance to any Baudelaire witch that Livia knew of…but she could tell without a doubt that it was Raven Roth who stood before them, her face half hidden behind a deep purple cloak two equally purple irises gazing out at the trio blandly.
As Raven stepped into the room, the door sliding shut behind her, the energy in the air seemed to shift…becoming thicker, heavier, like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm. Livia could feel it with every fiber of her being, the hair on her arms stood up, chills snaked their way up her spine…she felt electrified…volatile as if every cell in her body was supercharged with magical essence. It was as if two magical fronts had collided, with catastrophic results creeping closer, slow, and yet fast…equally as damaging as it was welcoming. An unending, infinite paradox. It felt eldritch…euphoric…ethereal…untimely—unnamable. Constantine seemed to sense the shift in the magical atmosphere, even Tim seemed touched by the degree of the shift in the world's metaphysical axis. Raven remained unbothered, or if she was perturbed by the interaction of their magical fields, their essences, she refused to show it. Instead, Raven simply pulled down her hood fully, her gaze resting firmly on Livia as if pinpointing the source of the disturbance,
"Whoa," was all Livia could get out, she was still reeling from the impact of their interacting magics…from the fact that this was Raven Roth, someone connected to her family through marriage. A sort of—not really—relative who escaped Klarion and his curse…though as Livia eyed the diamond-shaped ruby gem at the center of Raven's forehead, Livia knew the depth of demonic interference they each shouldered. Different and yet similar, two sides of a very dangerous coin, "You really do have your own demons to deal with."
Livia couldn't break her gaze from the ruby red gem…feeling the waves of rage, agony, and desperation that resonated from the stone. A prison of a very different, entity. Klarion was not always Chaos Personified…and even though Livia's family thought the Witch Boy was a demon, that wasn't quite what he was. Klarion is—or rather was—an Ancient, a dark Ancient at that, so similar to a demon and yet so remarkably different. If there was order there also needed to be chaos, a balance. But what was trapped in that gem, that was something different, that was a true demon…and like Klarion who was and wasn't a demon, it needed a host to maintain its form within reality. Livia could sense a story there, still eyeing the totem on Raven's forehead, with a very different solution to her own quarry with the demonic, though not one she could hear now…and while she wished she hadn't gone through the Pavilion with Léa, Livia felt she got the better end of that deal compared to Raven,
"Yes…it is clear our powers are incompatible," Raven mused, a grimace on her face, "So let's get this done quickly before we tear a hole in the fabric of reality,"
"Is that likely?" Livia questioned nervously. Raven didn't answer, instead, she turned her gaze to Constantine who wouldn't quite look her in the eye,
"Give me the necklace,"
"What?" Constantine barked, turning to Tim and Livia bewildered, "Seriously, you roped her in to do your dirty work?"
"You manipulated an amateur witch with immense power for selfish purposes and through using someone else without their consent…of course, I'm doing their dirty work," Raven replied harshly,
"Whoever said what I'm doing is selfish," Constantine sneered, with what Livia could describe as actual hurt in his eyes,
"Perhaps not selfish in intent, but certainly selfish in action," Raven commented, though her expression softened, "Others are more willing to help if honesty is there from the beginning,"
"Honesty requires trust and that isn't Batsy's or the League's forte," Constantine scoffed, "But whatever, I don't see how you can break this spell…a Siphoner would have an easier go at it, and I was working to track someone down." Livia somewhat doubted that but her instinct told her Constantine was genuinely being honest, he had been searching for a solution even if an indirect one.
With a sigh and a shake of his head, Constantine reached into one of his coat's pockets, pulling out the silver necklace after a moment of ruffling. Livia's heart leapt at the sight of it swinging through the air, relief cooling the fiery flame of anxiety settling in the pit of her stomach since entering the Watchtower that evening. He pooled the pendant and chain into Raven's outstretched hand who enclosed it with the other, a look of concentration on her face,
"I think you know that it's exactly what I am able to do," she mused before opening her mouth and uttering some kind of mantra…the echo of power sending ripples of energy Livia's way as if she could visibly see the wavelengths of power exuding from the incantation, "Azarath Metrion Zinthos."
It was over as soon as the last sound reverberated into oblivion and Livia felt nervous all over again as Raven unclasped her hands and held out the necklace for her to take. Livia stood frozen, staring almost brokenly at the chain of silver in Raven's outstretched hand, remembering the pain and sound of sizzling flesh from the protection charm paced upon the jewelry. The spell's inability to recognize her fully as a Baudelaire was nearly as painful as the actual burns caused by the charm. What if it didn't work…what if all this was for nothing and Livia lost her lessons on the wrong whim? Doubt crept carefully in, shrouding anything hopeful Livia once felt within,
"Moment of truth Livy," Tim mused, he'd been so silent during these interactions that Livia had almost forgotten he was there, that everything was his doing and that the only reason she may have her necklace back was because of him. With a gulp Livia swiped the necklace up out of Raven's hold, squeezing the chain tightly waiting with a grimace for the inevitable pain…only for nothing to happen…there was only the cool feel of metal against her skin. Livia let out a yelp of joy and moved to put the necklace on,
"I'm a Roth, Constantine," Raven said, a lick of humor in her voice, "Surely you haven't forgotten that…the Baudelaires are connected to my family, we were the ones who made that necklace and enchanted it. Hence, I could break the spell,"
"But of course," Tim bit out, "You knew that." Constantine let out a harsh breath of air, shaking his head,
"Well. Here's to trying," he muttered rather angrily, looking up with a dark glare on his face, "I'll get what I want…one way or another. I will make it happen," with a muttered word a portal formed, and Constantine stepped back through it, a promise in his gaze…mingled with a deeper sadness Livia couldn't quite understand…as he disappeared from the space station,
"That's what I'm afraid of," Tim sighed into the silence, scowling. Breaking his stare at where the portal once was, Tim turned to face Raven a warm smile alighting his face, "Thanks a million for doing this Raven. I really appreciate this,"
"Me too," Livia chimed in, shaking off the shock of Constantine's declaration and the implications of his words, "I am really, really thankful for this,"
"It was just one spell, and it was certainly the least invasive thing I've been asked to do," Raven replied, a glimmer of a smile on her own face, "It is rather odd to meet a Baudelaire, a relative yet not…we're connected you and me, though our power becomes volatile when near each other,"
"It feels like we're wading through centuries worth of taboo," Livia agreed,
"Then I guess perhaps we should maintain it…keep our distance from now on," Livia felt a momentary pang of hurt before a ripple of energies collided, sending waves of invisible magical energy scattering…the sensation was equivalent to someone dragging nails along a chalkboard,
"In an effort to maintain the fabric of reality, I agree," Livia found herself saying, "Though I hope in the future…it would be nice to speak again," a sly smile curved along Raven's lips, so slight one could hardly see it,
"I agree," was all she said before turning to face Tim, "I'm going back to our friends…would you like to join me?" Tim scowled, his nose wrinkling almost with distaste…and Livia couldn't help but wonder what could be causing her friend such distress upon seeing his own friends,
"I think I'm going to find Darren," was Tim's answer, "He'll need to know what went down with Constantine," Livia braced for Tim to continue, saying that Batman and Zatanna needed to be involved as well though she needn't worry, he merely looked to Livia almost expectantly,
"Oh uh…I was actually hoping to explore, the architecture here is amazing,"
"Then you would sincerely enjoy the atrium," Raven offered, Livia grinned,
"Then tell Darren when you see him that's where I'll be heading." With that both Tim and Raven left the room, leaving Livia to let out a long sigh of relief, a hand reaching up to clutch the pendant now hanging at her chest, more at ease than she had been in a long time.
Darren would begrudgingly admit he was having fun. Cassie and Kon, whose name was actually Conner, dragged Darren to one of the many training rooms on the Watchtower, incessantly going on about Tim talking about Darren and his abilities, how they were comparable to a Metas and how they wanted to test the theory themselves. Darren did not appreciate the term 'test' it had some rough implications and a connection to past unpleasant events but didn't stop them as they lead him away from the crowd, if anything Darren was relieved. Darren certainly preferred the quasi-kidnapping by two Titan members—if they were talking about Tim that's who they had to be—to speaking to strangers in an enclosed area. Or maybe they only knew of Tim…Darren was starting to suspect he should have read the files on the Batcomputer more thoroughly, everyone was starting to meld together or slipped away from memory.
The training room itself was expansive, nearly twice the size of GA's gymnasium and the Batcave combined. Various stations of weights and machinery were scattered throughout the room, ropes, rings, and bars included as well as large ceiling-to-floor windows all along the far end wall. The visionary chasm of space, broken by the ellipse of Earth, cut through the first four panels of glass. Darren noted upon entering how one wrong move could have everyone, equipment and all, sucked out into the vacuum of space. Kon, in response, picked up the nearest dumbbell and chucked it toward the glass. Darren flinched, bracing for the inevitable and expecting the worst, only to stare in surprise as a force field sparked to life stopping the dumbbell instantly, the weight clattering to the ground loudly leaving Darren's ears ringing,
"Clearly that's taken care of," Kon muttered, clearly sensitive to the noise as well. Cassie, unbothered by the noise, gestured to the sparring ring set up by luminescent tape or LEDs, Darren couldn't tell which, embedded into the floor in a shape of a circle,
"Shall we put our talents to the test?" Cassie wondered, a grin on her face. Darren stared uncertainly at the training room, aware that perhaps they were somewhere they weren't meant to be…and Darren had not made a very good impression the first time he'd been on the Watchtower, he didn't want to destroy any reminiscent standing any more than he already had last time around,
"I don't know…I mean, I don't think we should be here…isn't this dangerous?" Darren couldn't help but ask,
"I guess that depends on how durable you are," Kon mused, while Cassie merely frowned,
"Perhaps we should start off a little slower," she sighed, walking over to the nearest bench press.
Darren didn't see any problem with that and somewhat eagerly followed the blond Meta to the machine. The three of them had a blast, rotating on machines. Starting with the bench press before moving on to pullups, rope climbs, speed testing, jumping, and reflexes. Darren set a new personal best on the bench press and even taught his new companions the various warmups used in the Nest. They had an easier time completing the reps compared to the rest of the Bats, though that is clearly because of their enhanced abilities. It was odd, at times, to see others doing Talon training routines…Darren kept expecting to see Asher there watching, judging, out of the corner of his eye, or up on the high bar that Kon was currently working on as if the swinging body of the teen was morphing into that of his long-dead friend. But Superboy was too tall with too dark hair to be Asher, though the thought was still sobering.
Regardless, it felt nice to get his blood pumping…to be moving. Standing so idle before had left Darren to tread dark and deeply walked paths of thought, the metaphorical tracks gouged so severely there were no other paths to follow…this, the moment in the training room, was freeing. For only a moment the realization crossed Darren's mind that for once he wasn't thinking about everything wrong in his life, his mind wasn't sinking into the past or fears of the future, the strain of losing the hold he held—ever so precariously—over the Court. It was like the peace that training brought…the mindlessness…but different. That was on his own, this was a shared time with others where Darren didn't feel lost or struggling or pawing for a means of control.
Presently, Darren and Conner sat across from one another at a metal table off to the side of the training room, staring each other down their hands clasped ready for an arm-wrestling contest. The tests from before were individual, they were based on personal merit and skill…now, they were pitting their skills directly against one another. To see which had the best strength and best skills in combat—the glowing training ring was their next form of contest—and Darren was eager to see who came out on top: the alien, the meta or the Talon. Perhaps Darren also wondered how closely aligned Talons were to Metas. From how Conner and Cassie described it, there was a gene that remained relatively unexpressed in the human genome, only activated by extreme stress. Was dying not a form of extreme stress? Was that spark of life reactivated by the Electrum really the activation of that genetic trait? Though if that were the case…there wouldn't be such rigid uniformity in what Talons could do, gene activation impacted everyone uniquely even with born Metas, though their abilities were still relatively similar to their parent's meta powers. Darren didn't have the answers and at this point he was too scared to consider the implications of what each possibility—being a Meta or something else entirely—meant. Darren was only a Talon…but what did that mean in the scope of magic, aliens, and Metas?
Superboy was frowning, Darren on the other hand, was grinning. Even Cassie looked unsure…though Darren was not as aloof as many deemed him to be. He could notice the nervous energy emitting from the two, the hesitancy through the glances they threw at the door as if waiting for someone to burst in…Darren could see it all with the glances they gave each other as well as the looks of longing they both threw to the doors…to the party beyond. With Conner, those glances were ringed with an almost melancholic essence, while Cassie would always look back to Conner every time her gaze strayed as if confirming an internal resolve. Darren didn't know why the two teens were behaving in such a way, but Darren knew it wasn't because of him…and that was all that mattered to him. Their personal problems were their own, not for Darren to determine and assist with…besides, they found Darren. If they wanted to go back to the party no one was stopping them, least of all Darren,
"I don't know about this," Kon muttered, though he didn't drop the arm wrestling hold he had on Darren's left hand. It was lucky that Kon was left-handed like Darren, they could both use their more dominant hand,
"You saw how much I could bench,"
"I can lift a mountain…geologically,"
"This might not be a good idea," Cassie agreed, worriedly, "We don't want Batman on our asses for this,"
"Trust me, he won't care," Darren sighed, rolling his eyes heavenwards exasperated, "And I can heal,"
"I don't feel comfortable arm wrestling a human," Conner insisted,
"I think we've established I'm not quite human," he retorted, rather drolly,
"Which is it? Are you a Meta or a human? Make up your mind!" Cassie huffed,
"I could break your arm," Kon warned,
"I could break my arm doing this with a human, you're not that special Kon, besides…I won't feel it, I'll be fine," Conner raised a disbelieving brow at that, "I mean if you're scared your Kryptonian powers won't be enough—," Darren continued meaningfully, starting to pull away,
"I never said that," Kon hissed, tightening his grip. Darren merely grinned, making no indication of whether it was uncomfortable…there was nothing to feel. Conner could crush his hand to dust and Darren wouldn't notice. Kon threw Darren an unnerved glance before loosening his hold slightly and nodding to Cassie,
"All right, fine. We're doing this," she sighed, "Three. Two. On—," Cassie cut herself off as a voice sounded in the hallway,
"Darren? Are you in here—?" Tim rounded the corner and stepped into the room, the four of them all taking each other in, Cassie and Darren's eyes wide—unsure what to make of this new encounter—while Kon and Tim's gazes narrowed sharply—an emotion unfamiliar to Darren flickering in Tim's clear blue eyes. The fierce and amiable energy circulating the room previously all but vanished as Tim's expression went from pensive thought to outright hostility. Kon dropped Darren's hand and stood abruptly, his gaze still locked on Tim,
"Hi Tim," Cassie said brightly, her tone sweet and surgery…but oozing with discomfort and uncertainty. Darren wasn't sure what was going on. They were friends, right? They were Titans together…they worked as a team…why were they acting like this,
"Conner," Tim merely monotoned, his teeth gritting together harshly,
"Tim," Kon mimicked the teen Bat's tone, tension in his jaw. Darren glanced between the three standing friends…or what should be friends. He didn't know what was going on. The feel of the room, of the read Darren was getting from the three of them, was off…awkward,
"We were just arm wrestling," Darren muttered, most likely unhelpfully,
"Right," Tim sighed, breaking the staring contest he was having with Conner, glancing over at Darren, "I think Bart was looking for you two, Cassie, Conner, something about dessert?"
"Of course, he is," Conner stated, clearly unconvinced…remaining where he was,
"Best not keep him waiting," Tim added, not backing down. That seemed to break the spell, Cassie and Kon started towards the exit, and Darren—fearing the worst, and unsure of what Tim was getting at or trying to do…frustration towards his friend mounting as concern over losing what could have been newfound friends harshly surfaced—stumbled to his feet, rising after them,
"I like dessert!" Darren tried to sound chipper and pleasant but knew it was a lost cause as Conner and Cassie didn't even break stride,
"We can get some later, I have something I need to tell you," A part of Darren recognized the seriousness in Tim's tone, but his outlandish behavior soured anything rational in Darren's thought process. He merely scowled at Tim, but he remained where he was. Though Kon stopped in the entryway, looking back, and Darren couldn't help but feel appreciation at the possibility of Conner defending him—backing him up against Tim in this unreasonable moment—but he merely fixed his stare at Tim's backside. And Tim, as if sensing the look, glanced back to the teen…a look, an electrified enigmatic moment, passed between the two boys, through just a simple stare. Then Conner was gone, rounding the corner to catch up with Cassie. Leaving Darren and Tim alone.
Darren blinked, shaking himself as he watched Connor disappear from the room before whirling on Tim, a dark and thunderous scowl on his face heated anger erasing any confusion or curiosity at the encounter he'd just witnessed. Regardless of the serious tone Tim had issued when he'd first arrived the only thing Darren felt at that moment was irritation and uncertainty,
"What the hell was that?" Darren spat, his voice echoing harshly off the empty cavernous ceiling of the training room. Tim started at the sharpness in Darren's tone, finally tearing his gaze away from the doorway, clearly surprised by the ferocity in Darren's voice, "you tell me to interact, you tell me to put myself out there and mingle with the Leaguers…your teammates…make friends you say! But the moment I try and do just that you storm in and chase them away? Which is it? What do you want from me if not that? Am I not allowed to have your friends?" Darren didn't understand. He couldn't get what Tim was trying to do, was trying to say or imply by blocking that opportunity from him.
The situation wasn't that much different than the group of friends Darren had already. Tim was friends with both Livia and Stephanie—well perhaps a bit more with Stephanie—just as he was friends with Darren. All the same, Darren was also friends with Tim, Stephanie, and Livia—though equally so a bit more than friends with Livia. Where was the difference here? What did Darren do wrong? Why couldn't Cassie and Kon be Darren's friends? They sought him out, they wanted to hang out. Granted, it wasn't exactly a heart to heart more like a head-to-head competition to see who was the strongest and fastest, but it was something…it was an interaction that wasn't solely related to the Bats or the Court or even the League of Assassins…it was a moment that wasn't tied to family or conflict. That was what everyone wanted…Darren didn't get it.
Tim blinked, seemingly taken aback by Darren's exclamation, though he found his voice just as quickly,
"No…I-I…that's not it, Darren," he stammered slightly,
"Then what's this about?" Darren asked incredulously. Unsure of whether to be annoyed or hurt that his chance for potential friendship was ruined by anything but pettiness and spite, at least in that instance he'd have something worthy to hold against Tim,
"I-it's nothing he's, Kon, he's just an ex…past feelings and issues and all that," Tim monotoned, his shoulders slumping as if exhausted. It was Darren's turn to blink, all irritation and need for holding a grudge vanishing in a mere second,
"Oh…oh!" Darren so eloquently added. Tim threw him a look, one of equal amusement as well as caution,
"What, surprised I'm Bi?"
"What? No. I'm surprised you're clearly still into him," Tim grimaced, glancing away not necessarily embarrassed but more clearly conflicted by the fact that Darren could see something he was plainly trying to subdue,
"Is it that obvious?" Tim questioned, finally meeting Darren's gaze. Nerves echoed in Tim's voice…and Darren had to admit, he'd never seen Tim like this before. Tim was always the one person Darren thought would make a terrifying Talon and an even worse Owl. His capability was incomparable to that of the current Owl membership and his strategic inclination for pinpointing an opponent's weak points invaluable to the Talons. It was confounding to see Tim, his friend had always been so calm and collected, so calculated…but now, it was as if Darren were glimpsing a fraction of what was behind the curtain, the inner workings of Tim's mind,
"Probably not," Darren mused, not wanting to stress Tim out anymore though it was most likely the truth. Darren was better at reading people than most but that didn't mean others couldn't see Tim's underlying emotions as well, "I can hear the blood rushing and your heart pounding…I thought it was anger…hate, for something…but, now I see that wasn't it at all. Though, there was still that offshoot of contempt, reluctance…awkwardness,"
"Yeah…you don't need to tell me," Tim muttered,
"You say he's an ex…but you still like him? What about Stephanie?" Tim let out a sigh, his expression morphing from a grimace into a look of pain as he meandered slowly to the table Darren and Kon had previously occupied, slumping down on the metal bench,
"Don't get me wrong Darren. I love Stephanie…I love Stephanie as I love Stephanie. I love Conner as I love Conner…loved…love…whichever. There is no but. Not really. It's…it got complicated. I dated Stephanie even before I dated Kon. Things got messy between Stephanie and me, we fought, we broke up and I spent more and more time with the Teen Titans…Conner and I ended up dating. And…and then he died—," at this Tim broke off, his voice cracking and his expression wavering though with a sharp exhale he composed himself, "And for a while I just—you know what, never mind…why am I telling you this?" Tim almost seemed to mutter that to himself as he rose, moving to cross back towards the entrance. But Darren wasn't done, he needed more, he needed to understand how Tim got to the point where he couldn't even look his previous lover in the eye and to the point that he would ruin Darren's possibility of creating friendships beyond just family and romantic relationships,
"But he came back," Darren stated. Tim froze, whirling around with an almost angry look in his eyes,
"'Came back.'" Tim scoffed. Darren raised a brow,
"Didn't he, though?"
"Conner is a clone, Darren," Tim nearly hissed, not in anger though there was still an intensity to his tone, "he's a clone of Superman and Lex Luthor…and that never, ever, mattered to me until, until—," it was almost as if Tim couldn't get the words out, so Darren concluded for him, realization dawning once more,
"Until you could only ever wonder if the Connor that came back was a completely different clone and not the one you came to love?" Tim nodded grimly…and Darren felt his irritation and anger melt away, he understood dark thought processes, intrusive compulsive thoughts that clouded everything else. Of anything, Darren understood that,
"Well, you'll never know until you ask," he offered, though he knew it was poor advice as Tim let out another scoff,
"How the hell could I ask him that?"
"Okay, then you hack Lex Luthor, find out for yourself, or ask Luthor yourself. I'm sure he'd love to brag about cloning Superman twice," Tim scowled at Darren for naming the obvious solution with the most potential for success,
"You know I think I would have preferred if you'd been hung up on the fact that I was Bi," Tim muttered. Darren let out a chuckle, though it sounded rather hollow,
"It's not uncommon in the Court. There's not much to do other than train, and not much free time either. But no one cares…that's the only benefit, no one cares. If no one catches you…and it doesn't interfere with training, you can do whatever you wanted, with whomever you wanted." The look on Tim's face had Darren looking away, teeth clacking together as if he said too much. As if speaking in the present tense was telling of a deeper mind trap holding Darren captive in the Nest.
It was the truth. There was no complexity in the context of sexuality within the Nest, even if any intimacy between Talons and/or Talons-to-be was essentially forbidden…if no one knew, no one cared. Even if people knew someone's preference, if there was no interference, no attention to it…it didn't matter. All that mattered was the ability to serve the Court, to serve the Owls. They were weapons…they were Talons.
Tim let out a disgruntled cough, breaking the silence that bled so suddenly between them, "I'm…I'm going to go. I think Livia's looking for you, she's in the atrium," he nodded towards the doorway, "I'll see you later."
Darren didn't answer, just merely watched Tim tread towards the exit, unmoving. Though Tim stopped just at the threshold, glancing back,
"Thank you though…for listening and understanding. I didn't mean to prevent anything, that certainly wasn't my intention." Darren merely nodded his thanks and Tim seemed to understand that was enough for the moment. With that Tim too disappeared from the room, leaving Darren to stand and ponder alone, the rumbling conversation of the potluck mere yards away.
Livia was staring out the large plated floor-to-ceiling windows that styled most of the Watchtower's architectural design—and why wouldn't that be the designated structure when you had the expanse of the cosmos to look out at? One would be a fool not to optimize the viewing experience of a space station. Of course, Livia also knew that such windows were probably not practical for outer space, it was with the assistance of other alien species' technology and designs that the glass and structure of such windows withstood the pressure created by the vacuum of space. That was also another thing Livia couldn't quite grasp, even as she stared down at Earth, she was in space. She was floating in a space station, in Earth's orbit. Livia Anastasie Baudelaire was in outer space. It was unreal, unbelievable and Livia almost felt giddy at the realization.
Sure, it felt more like Livia was floating around in a giant mansion in space rather than an actual space station but the overall concept of being out of Earth's gravitational field, its stratosphere…beyond the elevation that planes flew was incredible…it was mind-blowing. Never in her entire life did Livia think she'd ever be in space. Perhaps designing space shuttles, rockets, or space stations for NASA if she chose to pursue her dreams of becoming an architect—there was a need for blueprints for those machines just as much as there was for actual houses—but to be in space? It was surprising, unbelievable…and it was so much more than she thought it was going to be. Perhaps it was the lull from the adrenaline rush of Livia's confrontation with Constantine that made her so content, so impressed, and elated to be where she was. Or perhaps it was the sweeping design of the atrium, filled with plants, creatures from various Leaguers' home worlds, and trophies from past victories that had Livia awed, impressed…mesmerized.
Livia let out a sigh, unable to help the pleased smile that crossed her face. The Watchtower was so big, so vast…Livia could get lost within its halls and still find something fascinating about how the floating hunk of metal was made. She wanted to ask for blueprints, to meet the designer, the architect, the mastermind behind the creation of the Justice League's secret space headquarters. She has so many questions, so many thoughts, and ideas of how to make it better, how to fix or recreate certain aspects of the build if they needed to expand, change things, or alternatively create her own secret space station. Livia's thoughts swirled, rolling through design after design only to stop at the feeling of arms gently wrapping themselves around her middle, pulling Livia close as Darren rested his chin lightly on her shoulder,
"Tim said you were looking for me?" he murmured lightly into her hair. Livia grinned, resting her hands lightly over his. The room was so quiet, filled only with the sounds of a creature's occasional chirping and chittering, the potluck too far to hear or be heard. Livia could see his blue-grey eyes peeking over her shoulder in their reflection of the windows, a grin alighted his face and she couldn't help but feel warm that Darren's smile, so rare and so hesitant was for her,
"Did he now?" She mused, grinning in response, "Did he tell you what he wanted to say?" Darren frowned then as if realization was dawning,
"No…uh…actually we talked about other things?"
"Oh, well then I guess it didn't matter," even as she said it though, Livia felt a flash of irritation toward Tim, though just as much bafflement. He said he would tell Darren about Constantine's interest in using his blood, and it was rather unlike for Tim to forget such an important piece of information. Perhaps Tim realized something that would make him want to push back on telling Darren about everything, she would have to ask later…but not while Darren was pressing kisses into the crook of her neck. Silence passed between the two of them, arm in arm, sweet and still. Watching the stars and their planet twirl slowly through inky black oblivion. It was after another beat of quiet past that Darren murmured gently against Livia's hair,
"I was annoyed with him," Darren stated blithely, scrunching his nose with distaste,
"About what?" Livia questioned surprised,
"I was…I was, I guess, attempting to make friends," Darren stated carefully as if unsure of that truth, "And Tim essentially flew in and made them flee,"
"Ohh," Livia hummed, with a grimace,
"So, I basically got mad and called him a hypocrite,"
"As you should,"
"It was as if he didn't trust me to make friends or the right friends or to say what he was initially going to say with other people present. I trust him with so many of my secrets…why can't he trust me with branching out beyond the Bats? Beyond you guys as my friends,"
At this Livia felt a glimmer of guilt, Darren had trusted her with his secret, and she had gone and given it away to Tim. Granted Tim already knew the secret, but Livia had said something out of spite and pettiness, though equally just as much for Darren's wellbeing. The underlying intention may have been for Darren's own good, but the overarching reasoning was not…it brought Raven's words during the meeting with Constantine to mind, perhaps not selfish in intent, but certainly selfish in action. The realized similarity didn't sit well with Livia,
"Though, as we spoke, I realized why Tim reacted that way…so I guess in the end I understood him, but I was still irritated by it," Darren continued in the same breath, oblivious to Livia's internal strife, shifting so his chin rested lightly against the top of Livia's head. An almost picturesque view greeting them in the reflection of the windows.
On one hand, this was not the same situation…Tim and Darren's argument no matter how brief was a misunderstanding…on the other, it was extremely similar in that their argument was a misguided attempt to protect Darren though Livia could equally argue that her actions were to protect herself from the responsibility Darren unwittingly placed upon her shoulders. A situation that she couldn't willfully and faithfully be accountable for. It was a mess; Darren had trusted her not to say anything, but she had. And yet she still stood by what she did. Though it was still something Livia felt guilty about, guilty enough that the feeling bubbled over, to a tipping point,
"I told Tim about…that…night!" Livia blurted out. She needn't say more, Darren stilled, stiffening ever so slightly. He knew what Livia was referring to and Livia stood, equally still in Darren's embrace waiting for his reaction. The silence between them crept on until Darren let out a sigh,
"I know," was all he said and that had Livia pulling away with surprise,
"What?" She questioned, facing Darren, eyes wide, "You knew?"
"Milkshakes aren't really your favorite treat," Darren replied, a grimace on his face that he might have been trying to pull off as a smirk, "And I also know you healed Erik." Livia swallowed unsure of how to react, uncertain of what to say or do. All she could do was stand there, feeling helpless, guilty, and unclear of where Darren stood on her actions.
The problem was that Livia would do both actions again in a heartbeat. She hated the Powers, and she hated what they did to Darren, but Erik was a child. He couldn't be blamed for Darren's treatment by his parents. Could he have been a better person to Darren, of course, but he didn't deserve to die for not being able to stand against his own parents or refusing to be a better person toward Darren. And in telling Tim, Livia expanded the invisible safety net that Darren probably didn't realize he needed. Darren was dealing with a lot; he was struggling with a lot even with the Court of Owls essentially under his thumb. Internal pressures, external pressures, the added strain of mainstream education, and the exhaustion of reigning in his enhanced abilities twenty-four-seven were leaving their mark and it was better that more than one person knew just how bad it was impacting Darren. Even if it was a one-off, Livia still wanted to know that she wasn't the only person aware.
It was an almost painful silence that flitted between them now. And Livia couldn't see what Darren was thinking or feeling. And that was frustrating. That was disheartening. To Darren, things were very black and white, not just morally—despite Darren's actions being in fact very grey—in what people said…in what people promised or did. There were people Darren trusted, and those he did not…and that list varied regularly. It was these extremes that contributed to the volatility that encompassed Darren's psyche. Darren may not understand why Livia did what she did. Darren may see it as a betrayal. Another extreme: betrayal. It dogged Darren's life even to this day, starved of its opposing equal, loyalty. But Livia saw it as justifiable, and reasonable given the situation.
The expansive silence grew, and Darren merely stared, steeling himself…processing…considering where to go from there. Or perhaps he was waiting for Livia to say something, and while she did not want to break first. Livia couldn't stand not knowing, not understanding Darren at this moment. Right then and there, they were not two sides of the same coin, at least that is what Livia feared. So, she spoke up, voicing what she dreaded,
"Are…are you mad at me?" Darren was quiet for a moment as if trying to parse out what to say…or trying to process how he felt about this truth. Though if he'd known all this time, he'd have to have figured all that out already,
"With what you told Tim; I was…initially. But I realized I scared you, I-I think I scared myself. And while I don't like Tim knowing my secret—it's too close to everyone else—I understand why you didn't want to carry that burden alone," Livia let out the breath she had been holding. Not expecting such a measured response, especially relating to such a significant level of trust Darren held this secret, "And with Erik…that secret was used to create a wedge between us, to manipulate me and isolate me from the people I love. I may not like Erik…I may be a killer, an assassin, and am no stranger to death, but he didn't deserve a death like that. I just wish you had told me sooner, so that information wouldn't have come from Lydia of all people,"
"For what it's worth…I am sorry. I didn't know how you would react, and it didn't seem like the time to mention anything about the Powers. You were recovering. I thought it would be better to keep that to myself. As for telling Tim, I stand by that. Perhaps not doing it behind your back, but I stand by saying something. That was too much for me to hold onto myself,"
"You and I are so similar in so many ways, but you are your own person, Livia. With your own thoughts and ideas and morals and beliefs. Who am I to stand in your way when my morals and beliefs are slanted one way or the other,"
"Or vice versa," Livia chimed in, drifting closer, working to close the gap that had suddenly sprung between them,
"Or vice versa," Darren agreed lightly, "Though that is much more of a rarity,"
"You sell yourself so short," Livia murmured, a wry smile on her face, as she held out her hands—a peace offering—which Darren lightly took, pulling her close once more their entwined hands pressed between their chests,
"Don't hide that light in you from me. We don't have to agree on everything. Don't ever hide who you are when you're with me, because there is no me without all of you, every side, everything hidden and everything yet to be discovered,"
"You always know exactly what to say, don't you," Livia whispered, her voice wavering as a deep swell of emotion rose in her chest as she gazed into Darren's grey-blue eyes. A moment's pause before they swept each other into a deep nearly frenzied kiss. Not quite desperate but still encased in a degree of intensity. Both silently knew what the other desired. When they finally pulled away, nearly breathless, there was a look in Darren's eyes. A familiar look and Livia, who despite herself started to grin, gave him a serious look,
"No," Darren grinned, and Livia could feel her cheeks flush as heat speared through her body,
"I'm sure there's—,"
"—No, no!" Livia hissed, the grin still fighting to pull through and an almost giddy feeling sweeping through her…like adrenaline. She fought hard not to giggle, which would only encourage him, "There are people here with super hearing!"
"They're too self-absorbed to notice,"
"Someone will!"
"The constant hum of everyone else's voices masks anything else in that room. Trust me, I have enhanced hearing. It's why I wear the headphones," Darren might have seemed almost too eager, but his playful tone was alluring in its own mystifying way…a rarity and a gift, one Livia relished,
"Besides," Darren continued, "Who would pass up the opportunity to have sex on a space station?" Livia bit her lip, doing nothing to stop the grin that spread across her face. She couldn't deny the thrill that raced through her, light and fervent, at that mere phrase. Or that the very same thought had circled her mind too. The sudden, and intoxicatingly inviting need for excitement and perhaps a little chaos…mischief…was so strong it curled Livia's toes.
As Livia stood there, with the man she loved, floating among the stars, above the earth and moon, in the void of the cosmos…Livia thought back to the few worries she had about being intimate with Darren, about who the focus should be on, and about the reciprocity she desired and craved. Nothing was one-sided with them…nothing should ever be one-sided with them. With a sly smile, Livia took Darren's hand, tugging him down a hall leading off from the atrium, further into the Watchtower,
"If you let me return the favor we can certainly disappear for a while," she murmured breezily in his ear.
Bewilderment showed on Darren's face as he threw a questioning stare though one equally filled with desire and anticipation, but Livia didn't provide any explanation—at least not yet—as they darted deeper into the space station away from prying eyes, snickering, giggling giddily as they did so…the thrill they felt so inviting and wild and so centered on the excitement of youth and life.
The murmuring of Potluck guests faded to nothing, forgotten.
A/N: Hope you guys liked this chapter! Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!
I had a BLAST writing the portion of this chapter with Raven. I hope I did her character justice. I mainly took inspiration, at least for the lore of the gem on her forehead, from the Animated DC movie "Universe" where she created that gem to basically imprison her father Trigon. I honestly thought it was a creative story for why Raven had the gem in the first place. I also thought it mirrored/paralleled Livia's own experience with Klarion super well, even if the origins/outcomes were very different.
Hope you also liked the section with Cassie, Connor, and Darren goofing off and being competitive goons. I think there was a wistful sadness for Darren at that moment messing around on equipment with other Metas. He doesn't really have the opportunity to really let go in training. He's always told to hold back and he's been trained to hold back since becoming a Talon because his strength can hurt other people, and Darren of course knows this...but it's also in stark contrast to the Talons who were all about strength and ferocity and never ever holding back or giving an opponent an opening. So Darren is trying to maintain one side of an extreme while simultaneously fighting the very opposite end of an extreme. What's even more significant is that with Darren, as with much of his new life because of his old life, he fears what letting go even a fraction, even for a moment may mean in terms of the Bats' trust and care, and support. So there is always this innate fear, in part due to his past, that if he steps one toe out of "line" or can't maintain his control over his Talon abilities, then that's it. So there's this constant stress and pressure even during everyday normal civilian life, because the strength and speed don't go away when he takes off his Renegade suit; it's there 24/7. Even after all this time, and even if they've shown otherwise that fear is just there floating around in the back of his mind. So this moment of training with Cassie and Connor is very freeing, it also brings up the past...because while it was very horrible and traumatic there were those scattered moments of peace. And training with his year-mates, with Asher, was one of those moments of peace...and that'll never happen again for him.
Tim's interruption was initially to be extremely different, well more like I didn't really know what I was going to do with that portion of the chapter except for the fact that Tim was going to interrupt it in some capacity. But then I read this really amazing super cute fan comic with Tim and Kon and I was like...I HAVE to incorporate their relationship in some way. And then not two days after I finish this chapter I find out about Bernard?! Will Tim/Kon or Tim/Bernard win in this story—does Bernard even exist?!—only time will tell because I honestly know next to nothing about Bernard.
The last section with Darren and Livia also kinda swerved from what I initially thought that chapter would be, but I think it turned out better in that Darren revealed he knew Livia mentioned something to Tim. It also finally allowed them to address what happened that night to an extent. It also ended in a very cheeky way...but c'mon, Darren's right...is he not?! ;P
As always PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!