Ch. 6 Catalyst
Hey yo, author here. Really cool seeing the reviews coming in now! If you're reading this and enjoying it, please give it a like or follow, really does mean the world! Updates will probably slow slightly now. I'm nearly finished the "set up" if you will, but chapter after this will probably take a little longer to flesh out. Really enjoying writing this though so, who knows, might just power through. As always, much love to reviewers, followers and…favoriters (Don't think that's the word) ?. Shorter chapter, but necessary for sure.
I don't own Teen Titans or any DC characters, otherwise I'd have gotten season six going by now.
Two weeks before the battle at the docks…
Jump City National Park was silent except for the occasional animal call and the faint but persistent chirping of crickets. It was a clear night, the moon silhouetted against the sky, almost as if it was surveying the peaceful scene that lay before it. But just because there was silence, did not mean that there weren't events unfolding under the cover of darkness. Deep within the forest, a portal had appeared without a sound, almost as if it was sucking in the life from the environment in which it had appeared. After a few seconds, a man emerged, the portal collapsing in on itself behind him, disappearing without a trace or piece of evidence to confirm that it was ever there at all. The man that had emerged was initially obscured in the darkness of the trees, but a few steps forward into the moonlight revealed that this was no man. Constructed entirely of paper, except for a set of silver eyes, the figure took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
"…Finally…I have returned…"
Malchior walked forward with purpose. In the distance, the faint glow produced by Jump City acted as a beacon, calling to him. He was free, no book in sight to be trapped in…he'd happily never see that infernal thing again. He was back in the right dimension and he was going to return with a vengeance. However, he was in no rush. He knew where the Teen Titans were. He would get to them eventually. But first, a foray into the city was needed. After all, why not get to meet some of the civilians that he planned to make suffer.
A quick visit to a closed store on the edge of the city, and a little bit of magic to get him in and out undetected, had secured Malchior a pair of shoes, hat and long trench coat. He wanted to move about seamlessly, and his regular appearance would certainly draw attention to himself. He wandered through the streets. Jump City was never quite empty and there were still plenty of people out and about, coming home from dinners or heading out to party. Malchior's attention was drawn to a small bar on one street corner. The sign read "The Devil and St. Dunstan" and seemed to be relatively empty, but there was something about the dingy spot…something calling him to it.
Malchior pushed open the front door to find an old style English pub. A grand fire place was lit at the back, the tables, booths and chairs, simple wooden designs, with leather padding that had seen better days. There were nought but a handful of older men, all sat at the bar, talking in hushed voices to the bar tender. It was hardly the kind of establishment he'd associate with, but still, he trusted his instincts. There was a very rarely a coincidence in the world of magic, and Malchior trusted that he was here for a reason. He took a seat in the booth furthest from the bar, picking up a newspaper that had been left on the seat. He read the headline too himself, "Teen Titans Return to Jump City". He scoffed in disgust and through the paper back onto the chair.
He had been distracted enough by the paper that he hadn't noticed the man approaching him and was only alerted to him when two tumbler glasses were deposited on the table.
"Would you mind if I joined you for a moment…I even brought you a drink on me…you seemed like a whisky man."
Malchior was about to tell the stranger to leave him in peace when he finally brought his line of sight to the man's face. Also adorned in a large jacket, and hat, it was only the lower vantage point that Malchior had from his seated position that he had an unobstructed view of the man's face…or where his face would have been, if it weren't obscured by the black and orange mask he wore.
"…I'm not usually one for company…but I suppose that would be alright…as long as you provide good conversation…"
Slade chuckled darkly, taking a seat opposite Malchior in the booth. "I didn't realise you didn't have a mouth in this form…I wouldn't have taunted you with a such a vintage".
Malchior picked up one of the tumbler glasses, watching the dark brown liquid swirl around a single enormous, perfectly square ice cube. At least this establishment knew how to serve the spirit the right way. He looked at it longingly before pouring the contents into the other tumbler.
"Unfortunately, I am yet to come up with a solution that would allow me to enjoy such simple comforts in this form again. You'll have to let me know how it tastes. I can only assume I am talking to Mr. Slade Wilson…the brotherhood had mentioned trying to work with you during their failed ventures but you seemed to have vanished."
Slade swirled his glass, before raising his mask ever so slightly to have a sip. He held his breath and the liquid for a few seconds before swallowing, letting out a satisfied sigh as he finished. "Let's just say that the Slade that most people were aware of…perished. I've taken on a new moniker to represent that."
Malchior weighed up his words before extending a hand. "Well then I believe introductions are in order…Malchior, but I assume you already knew this". Slade reached out and shook his hand.
"Deathstroke…and yes I did…and I have a proposition for you".
Malchior let go of his and looked at him with interest. "How did you even know I was here? I only managed to return from the godforsaken rift I was sent through by that pathetic trumpet player in the last few hours".
"Nothing can come go or go from this city that I don't find out about…but also…I had been hoping for your arrival. I conducted some research on exactly who wasn't compromised following the Brotherhood's misadventure and noted you weren't among the detained…and I believed you would return here should you have the ability to…if my assumption of your motives are correct?"
"I know there is no love lost between you and the Titans, so if this is a warning to stay away from the claim you've staked, I'm afraid that won't be possible".
Slade laughed quietly. "Oh quite the contrary actually…like I said…I have a proposition for you. My sources have told me that you gave the Titans quite the fight in your first battle with them…if not for that cursed book, you would have comfortably bested them"
"That book is no longer an issue".
"A fact that I've also been made aware of. However, your…ahem…optimal form for such a fight isn't the most subtle affair…it will draw attention…many people could get hurt should you engage in a fight in the wrong area…".
Malchior picked up his tumbler glass, swirling the ice cube in the water that had melted from its surface. "So what exactly are you trying to propose Mr. Wilson?"
If Deathstroke was annoyed that Malchior had used his real name, he didn't show it. "Oh it really is quite simple. You want revenge on the Titans, and I have plans of my own that concern them. So, all I ask, is that you don't make your move for a few days…and when you do decide to act…let me know…you guarantee that the Titans will be in for a battle, whether you win or lose…a battle that will take time…and cause a lot of destruction that they will have to attend too…and I have some business I would like to conduct in their precious tower while it is unsupervised".
Malchior tossed the idea back and forth in his head. Deathstroke was not really asking much of him. To simply provide him with a warning for when he would act, so he could initiate his own plans. Malchior fully intended to dispose the of the five teenagers, so Deathstroke's plan would never come to fruition should he have his own way…but if he were to lose somehow…a fail-safe could be in place. Malchior looked up from his glass, noting the glint in Deathstroke's eye.
"There's more to this still isn't there."
Deathstroke couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "An intuitive individual I see. Yes, there is one other aspect to this. The green one, Garfield Logan, or Beast Boy as his associates call him…there is a transformation he is capable of undergoing under the right conditions…emotional stress seems to be the main driver. During my last casual visit to the tower, I obtained a lot of intel on our five young heroes…harrowing back stories…hidden traumas…I will supply you with this information. You can use this information in battle to your advantage…win the psychological fight...but I need you to use it to draw out the green one's inner beast".
"Garfield Logan was an insignificant pest the last time I faced him, what possible value could there be in any of his transformations?"
Slade took another sip from his drink. "Let's just say I want to plant seeds…seeds of doubt in his teammates about how in control the boy really is".
Malchior eyed the man across from him. For everything he'd heard about Slade Wilson during his time with the Brotherhood, he'd never heard anyone question his honesty in transactions such as these. "Alright Deathstroke, I will use the information you provide me with when I engage the Titans again, and I will draw them away from their little home. I do intend to be successful in annihilating them though…do not think I will hold back just because you have your own schemes."
Deathstroke extended his hand across the table, handing Malchior a white business card with a single phone number. "I wouldn't want you to act in any other way…whichever plan of ours succeed…the Titans lose. Simply ring this number from any public payphone, and I will take it as your signal of intent. Now…shall we discuss the heroes you plan to wage war against".
"Yes, it would be an absolute pleasure."
Deathstroke pulled out five folders from an inner I jacket pocket and placed them on the table.
"Oh…one last thing…if the boy doesn't transform from the information in here…I have a second hypothesis for a trigger…target Raven…allow Garfield to see it…I believe you are more than familiar with the half-demon?"
If Malchior could smile he would have been grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Target Raven…make her friends watch…now there's something that needs no prompting".
Deathstroke nodded approvingly and flipped open the first folder. "Excellent to hear. Now, let's start with Cyborg, also once known as Victor Stone…".
Deathstroke had approached Titans Tower mere moments after the five heroes had left for battle. Malchior had kept true to his word and given Deathstroke ample notice of his plans to hold the fight in the down town area. Deathstroke looked towards the roof of the tower, watching his bots carry the gas canisters he had prepped so diligently to the roof. He didn't want to call them Slade bots anymore…after all…that wasn't who he was anymore…but Death bots sounded too dramatic…even for him.
Slade reached over his shoulder and pulled out his double-sided axe. Originally, upon his return, his ability to set the blade aflame took focus and time. But now, he could command the inferno at a moment's notice. His other powers he once possessed where still hard to call upon…but not impossible. Slade looked back to the roof and focused, allowing his mind to clear. He imagined the power he once had…the fear he had been able to instil…oh how it drove him onwards. His body became encased in an orange flow and Slade ascended into the sky like he had when he chased Raven to deliver the message all those months ago. He landed on the roof with a thud. The effort that took was exhausting…but it was getting easier with every attempt.
"Even Trigon could not outlast me…and I still hold the power he granted me…a good deal for me by all accounts."
Deathstroke had no intention of entering the tower. He already had all the information he needed to put his plan to work. His bots had already gone about removing all the covers for the vents on the roof and had begun attaching tubes to the gas canisters before feeding them down into the exposed air ducts.
Deathstroke stood on the edge of the tower, watching the occasional spurt of flames shoot out of downtown, while his creations began allowing gas to escape from their containers, sending the contents down into the Tower below. Was the amount of chemical reagent being sent into the tower overkill?...Probably, but Deathstroke had no way of knowing how long Malchior would last. He did not expect Malchior to succeed in his endeavours if he did manage to summon the Beast…in fact. Slade was counting on it.
The reagent would eventually be removed by the tower's natural circulation, but the titans only needed to be contaminated by the smallest amount. He knew that even the amount contained in a puff of dust would be able to get the effect he desired. After just a few minutes, his bots were recovering the tubes, and placing a seal on the inside of each vent to keep the gaseous reagent trapped for while longer before replacing the vent covers. His bots began to make their exit, programmed to return to his base of operations, bringing all evidence of his plans with them.
Slade simply jumped from the roof, allowing himself to fall for a few seconds before two of his bots came in and caught him. He looked back at the tower as he was carried a safe distance away. He'd pay the Titans a visit in the aftermath…so he could enjoy the results of his plan coming together.
Beast Boy had been flying for a few hours at this stage and had accidently found himself at Ben's Diner. It was only seven o'clock and he'd had enough of flying so he allowed himself to venture inside. A slice of apple pie would send him home happy. The diner was filled with the usual clientele, a group of bikers were occupying the pool table while a few groups of people were dotted around having drinks. Beast Boy was still a minor but alcohol was also the last thing on his mind.
"Heya Pam, have any apple pie left?"
Pam looked at Beast Boy and nodded before starting to turn back when a voice called out from behind Beast Boy to her.
"Could you make that two slices? And I'll cover them."
Beast Boy recognised the voice and was surprised to find himself face to face with the Herald in his favourite diner.
"Mal? What are you doing here…and how did you know I was here?"
The Herald pulled up a seat next to Beast Boy, placing his horn down on the counter. "I was actually planning on popping into your tower over the next few days, just for a catch-up, but then I saw you guys on the news…seems like you were in quite the battle?"
Beast Boy looked at the Herald in wonder. "You have tv signal in your rifts?"
The Herald chuckled, "I was at sports bar in Boston at the same time…I don't perpetually exist in a space rift".
Beast Boy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "Oh hehe…yea that sounds about right".
The Herald laughed harder at Beast Boy's reaction before continuing, "I was actually with Argent…she's pretty chill on meeting up anywhere".
Beast Boy stopped laughing and looked at the Herald questioningly.
"Wait…are you two….?"
"Dating?...Yea, we are…cool to say it out loud".
Beast Boy took a second to get over his shock before slapping the Herald on the back. "Hey man, I'm happy for you guys…but wait…why are you here now then?"
The Herald's face went to being slightly more serious. "Well, like I said, I was planning to visit you in the next few days, but saw the news. Cell phone footage showed you flying off on your own after the fight…and I was worried about you. Argent told me go find you…she said you owe her for ending our lunch early though".
The Herald had tried to lighten the mood, but Beast Boy was only able to give half a smile. "I'm fine man…you shouldn't have left your date early…just been one of those days".
The Herald nodded, "Reports were saying that you pretty much took out that dragon by yourself…I still don't even know how he managed to get back from the rift I sent him through…but yea, the news said you turned into some kind o-"
"Beast…yea…call it my party trick…except the party sucks." Pam arrived back with two slices of apple pie and the Herald handed over a ten dollar bill in return. "Whenever I transform into that…thing, it's like I have no control…like my body is on auto-pilot…it's a horrible feeling to wake up too…and it's inside me all the time…I'm always a bit put out when I get brought out of it."
The Herald listened intently, letting Beast Boy get it all off his chest. "Can I ask…do you know what triggers it? If you lose control, surely there's a common denominator for what's causing it? If you could identify that, you could work on it?
Beast Boy, who had just taken his first bite of pie, proceeded to choke furiously upon hearing the Herald's idea, the Herald looking on at him in confusion. Once Beast Boy regained his composure, he turned back to the Herald to find he was on the receiving end of a look that said, "Okay, spill the beans".
Beast Boy let out a huge sigh. "There is a…thing that links them all…but I don't know what it means…and it's stressing me out".
The Herald didn't respond, silently imploring Beast Boy to continue.
"…I've changed into that beast three times…and each time it's happened…Raven has been in some kind of danger. The first time, Adonis broke into the tower and attacked her when he was trying to get to me. The second time was during Slade's assault on the tower when he was working for Trigon and we all had to protect Raven…and the third time was today…when that stupid lizard had Raven in his grasp…and he was saying the worst things to her…".
Beast Boy trailed off, but the Herald had heard more than enough. He put down his own fork on his plate with a half-eaten pie and put his hand on Beast Boy's shoulder.
"Dude…maybe you just need to hear this question out loud from someone, but from what your saying, it sounds pretty obvious…do you like Raven?"
Beast Boy didn't jump at the sound of the question. He merely continued to stare a hole through the pie on his plate as if that was who had asked him the question.
"…I don't know…but even if I do or don't…this can't keep happening. Raven was able to calm me down today but…if she wasn't around, there's no telling who I could have hurt."
The Herald looked at Beast Boy sadly before he had an idea. The Herald picked up his trumpet and handed it to Beast Boy. Beast Boy took it, confusion evident on his face.
"This is called the Gabriel's Horn. I won it in a fight a long time ago. I may be a decent combatant, you know, good hand to hand abilities, I'm pretty quick…but that horn…that's what makes me…well…me…and I was able to just hand it to you".
Beast Boy opened his mouth to interject, but the Herald continued. "Wait, let me finish. I'm not saying I'm nothing without the horn, trust me, I'm still awesome, but it's definitely what I'm known for…but it's an item. In theory, anyone could wield this one day. Garfield I don't know much about your powers, but as far as anyone knows, you are the only person like you to ever exist. You've had to teach yourself all your animal forms with no one to learn from and you've done a perfect job…you'll be able to learn to control the beast too…because there's nothing to suggest you can't do it".
Beast Boy was left speechless. He desperately wanted to find a flaw in the Herald's logic but…he couldn't.
"…thanks man…you've got a lot of faith in me though."
Beast Boy went to have his last bite of apple pie as the Herald responded.
"Why wouldn't I have faith in you…but also a good start would probably be to tell Raven you like her, hmm?"
The Herald burst into laughter as Beast Boy once again choked on a piece of apple pie, earning a punch in the arm from the changeling for his troubles.
"Ha ha, very funny…speaking of Raven though…"
Beast Boy checked the time on his communicator and saw that it was nearly seven thirty. He'd need to leave now if he was to be back by eight o'clock.
"Hey Mal…I gotta get going. If I'm not in the Titans med bay by eight, Raven is just gonna out and out hospitalise me. But thanks for this, you seem to have a good streak of getting me out of my pity parties."
"Any time man, you want a lift home? You must be absolutely exhausted at this stage".
"Nah I'm okay…wouldn't mind a last few minutes to fly home and clear my head before turning in".
The two boys left the diner and gave each other a hug outside before the Herald opened up one of his rifts. "I'm telling you man, Jump City to London via space rift is waaay better than a plane".
"Yea yea, get of here…and tell Argent I say hi!"
"Will do Gar, will do!"
The Herald disappeared into the portal, which promptly closed behind him. Beast Boy, not wanting to hang around, took the form of a Peregrine falcon and took to the sky, aiming for the massive T-shaped tower in the distance. He actually struggled to spot it for a moment, until he realised that all the lights in the building were off. Not only that, but most of the city seemed to have been cast in darkness. "That's strange…maybe there was a power cut?".
Beast Boy increased his speed a little bit, wanting to get back to the tower as soon as possible. If the power was out, Robin would already be stressed. He didn't need to worry about him getting home later than he promised he would on top of that.
Deathstroke had observed from a distance as the T-car returned to the tower. He had expected all five titans to return at the same time and was pleasantly surprised when Beast Boy was not amongst the car's occupants. "Oh this might work out even better than anticipated now". He observed the four of them enter the tower through a pair of binoculars, the sliding doors of the tower sealing them inside. None of them knew it yet, but they were most likely already inhaling the chemical he had released in the building. Deathstroke had been patiently waiting for months to enact his plan…what was a few more minutes?
Minutes ticked by, the sun slowly starting to drop lower and lower in the sky, until finally, just after seven, it fully disappeared beneath the horizon. Deathstroke stood from his spot and looked down at the screen in front him. Hacking into the Jump City power grid had been the easiest part of this whole operation, and while he knew Cyborg would most likely have a back-up generator somewhere, he would never get the opportunity to use it if his plan worked.
Deathstroke took a deep breath, entered a combination on the digital screen in front of him, and hit confirm. The Jump City Power grid went down, and Deathstroke watched as the lights from buildings around him flickered off sequentially, before the luminous T-shaped building also fell into darkness. Deathstroke resumed his vigil of the tower, eager to see whether all his planning had paid off. "Time for the Titans to be haunted by one of their own".