Disclaimer: By this means, I rightfully claim ownership to this fanfiction story and my original character within it, by my trademark signature T.M.O at the conclusion of every update. Any other characters that may appear in this work and are new, these are the rightful properties by their creators as well and cannot be reproduced, or duplicated without their individual consent. I do not own anything within the DC Universe, from Warner Brothers, or on Cartoon Network. The only original character and the name that I created for him; that I accept half ownership on is Falcon from this telling. Scififanfreak222 owns the second half of him as well, for drawing him upon a collaboration of various new designs and sketches within the year of 2010; and cannot be knowingly placed into another literary document, writing community, comic book series, and or televised broadcast without either of our written or verbal consent in front of legal consultants. TheForceIsStrongWithThisOne, Scififanfreak222, xSaffire55x, Novus Ordo Seclorum, and RavenxIsxAxBlackxRose; each of these fellow writers have helped me to press onwards with this story, every-time I have come across writers block. Without their outstanding guidance, the updates would have taken me even longer to complete.
Chapter 16 is out! The Teen Titan's linger to push forwards, Raven meditates, as a tired medical doctor reminisces the past. "Good nature without prudence is a great misfortune." -Benjamin Franklin-
Chapter 16 - Stirring Lost Optimisms
Inside the garage of Titans Tower, a variety of noises were heard seeping throughout the lower levels. It sounded like a NASCAR Pit-Crew was working inside their home.
Heavy clanking from various types of metal being dropped, the ratcheting of bolts and nuts being set into place, along with the buzzing whirling pops of electrical devices reverberated from within the lowest bowels of the building.
Cyborg was keeping quite busy, and to his teammates they knew without having to actually see him, that the technological expert was entirely committed to some all day project.
Upgrading the fast moving and powerful craft, that was the T-Car, which he built and then rebuilt countless times was an assignment of pure dedication and commitment. It kept his blood pumping, and it brought enjoyment to the typical boring day-to-day stuff.
He was once again meticulously taking apart piece by piece, and then putting back together the more delicate engine components. This exacting cycle would consume long hours or any free time, when-ever he could manage it, but now that he had an opportunity to think, he felt an urge of something of this nature, needing to be done.
Utilizing with his hands on anything mechanical, it boosted his confidence a great deal. It reminded him that he was still human, and that he could make things run much more efficiently.
Despite his reflection across the room making him feel like he was nothing but an emotionless robot, a shell of his former athletic self, yet when he was doing repairs on critical equipment that aided his team, he felt a sense of normalcy, of pride.
He had spent enough time feeling pathetic, this was his way of mourning the loss of a friend. He required a distraction, something that would help him and the others capture Slade, and bring the full hammer of justice down onto their enemies.
Following his brash and somewhat overzealous arrival at The Jump City Dockyards, and rescuing his teammate, the iconic vehicle required a major overhaul.
Whenever he locked himself inside the garage, to tinker with his toys and weapons, there was very little that could drive him away. It was an absolute determination, to take his focus out from the unwanted heartache or concerns, to keep with his cleaning and processing of components that went into very specific places.
The brackets and nuts had to be cleaned as others were replaced, then things had to be fitted snugly along the tight corners, which became a muscle cramping process all on its own. The lubrication of oil onto the pistons, the fixing of damaged electrical wires, the buffing and repainting of the outer-coat, and even draining then refilling the engine fluids, all of these things blocked the mistakes from the rest of the world, into obscurity.
Cyborg's primary power cell like his car battery needed to be swapped, yet he was putting this major project off, and it was hampering him a great deal. He felt like a slug just going through the motions. It was comparable to a laptop needing an update, and the longer that the owner put off doing this system reboot, the slower the computer would become.
Following the depressing reunion within the Common Room, each member of his team had departed into their own secluded places around Titans Tower.
Robin was the first to leave, he had gone to his chambers to somehow piece together what clues that they had acquired, which was hardly peanuts, to then formulate a counter attack. It gave their fervent and brave commander a relentless drive of his own, to bring his detective skills to the table, and to allow the rest of his team to continue in the long fight.
The gear-head recalled Raven departing next. She used her dark powers to create a black portal to rise around her from the floor, and she allowed herself to become enveloped into the void.
There was no doubt that she was going off someplace quiet to meditate, where being the first and only one to actually get to Beast Boy in his deplorable state at the Jump City Dam, that was a nightmare scenario with its own horrors.
He swiped the perspiration that was clinging across his brow away, as he diligently tinkered over the engine compartment. As he looked at the long mirror, he remembered Starfire sighing, and watching her reflection in the glass, as she wheeled herself up a side-ramp, leaving him.
It was an earth shattering moment to behold, to witness a girl so passionate with a burning energy of hope and love, to have this empowering and unbreakable willpower suddenly tumble into the abyss, right after learning of Falcon's dire fate.
Cyborg brought a hand across the back of his bald dome, as he recalled the sight of her picking up the Necromancer's crimson cloak. She was going to bring the totem into her bedroom, as she mused over the recent topics.
Cyborg sniffed in the rich metallic air around him quickly, as he paused to refocus back upon the blueprints of the engine. The long blue paperwork was strewn across the workbench, as screwdrivers, wrenches, dirty rags, an electric drill and other nifty things were clumped on top of it.
Across the floor traveled a slithering black liquid, it was the old oil that he had decided to swap, and it curved its way towards the central drain in the thick concrete.
"I know that you're there Star." Cyborg's voice bounced about the room. "If you came to check up on me, I'm fine." He continued with his work, as her reflection in the mirror caught his eye.
"It is normal to be upset." Starfire replied. "You do not need to be alone, in this time of sorrow."
The constant clicking of his trusted ratchet tightening things, cut in-between the silent moments of their confab.
"I'm fine." Cyborg refused to break away from his task. "I need to get the T-Car back up and running again."
"You say that you are fine, yet I am detecting the faint traces of anger, in your tone."
The noises coming from the engine compartment suddenly stopped. Cyborg tossed a bolt into a red painted toolbox near the wheelchair, causing a clanking echo to stifle the conversation. He bent forwards and started putting a shining new bolt into place.
"The car needs work, the Tower needs upgrading, the security systems are due for a new platform, and Robin's R-Cycle needs to be re-fitted with some armaments." He peeked his head around the corner. "I haven't even checked over the footage from the security cameras, or had the chance to even write my report. I don't have time for this."
Starfire brought herself closer. "Friend Cyborg, you must pace yourself in this difficult time. We are all grieving the loss of our-"
"Don't say it Starfire, don't even start with that!"
He waved the tool at her as he partially leaned out, then he turned back as the clicking and ratcheting suddenly picked up. His curious friend observed his seething raw emotions, starting to overflow from within him.
Starfire tilted her head. "This is a time of the bereavement, of unity." She closed her eyes as the face of Falcon smiling at her, suddenly flashed across her memory. "Now is the time that we must make our peace."
"Peace, no. The only unity we have right now, is pure hatred." Cyborg began to wave the wrench back and forth. He stepped out from under the hood, and he began cleaning the object with a rag. "Sorrow and regret have left me Starfire. I demand retribution!"
"You are wrong." She placed her right hand onto his wrist. "It is one thing to be upset and frustrated over the actions that happened, but it is an entirely different matter to be in search of vengeance. That will never quench the thirst you crave."
The black teenager frowned at her during the pause. "Falcon was trying to do just that. If we hadn't gotten involved, if perhaps we let him go . . . he might still be alive!"
"You must not think this way." Starfire squeezed her fingers, as new tears began to well-up in her eyes. "It was because we intervened, that he was able to find a new purpose. At least . . . that is what I believe."
"I don't think we'll ever know." He yanked his arm away, as he resumed his commitment back to his vehicle. "We have always put the system of justice, ahead of our own goals and desires."
"Not always."
He shook his head while picking up a different tool. "Yet the line we tread, it's getting more and more difficult to distinguish every day. From the path of doing what is right for the city, compared to unveiling our own form of justice onto the criminals we hunt, it's a fight that has gradually become a plague."
"It is normal to feel this way." Starfire leaned over and reached out to touch his shoulder. "All I am saying, is that this sadness . . . this loss is within each of our hearts."
As he felt her gentle feminine grip against his firm bicep, and he smelt her sweet perfume of strawberry nectar that she used as shampoo for her long red hair, as she remained sitting in the wheelchair; he released a heavy exhale before turning to finally face her.
"I was never very good at this sort of thing." Cyborg bowed his head, as the strange curiosity began to expand at last. "I never liked to see the world this way, I guess that is what is so difficult to avoid, when I think on just how close Falcon and me were on this sort of topic."
He peered at the mirror, and as his appearance was observed, Starfire noticed that his unbreakable strength at being the tough guy, it had fallen away.
"I see." Starfire nodded.
Cyborg hurled the wrench across the room, as if he were a pitcher for a major league baseball team! Smashing it violently against the glass mirror as the untapped emotions finally eroded any confidence he had. It shattered into countless pieces, and the fragments sprinkled across the floor.
His bluffing efforts to pass beyond her was no longer an option, every hidden card had been exposed, and he no longer had a reason to conceal the truth.
Everything was in the open now, there was no way to hide it. A part of him was relieved that he could move forwards, this way, he did not have tip-toe around the land mines of sparing his friends own concerns, he could be totally blunt and critical.
There was another part of him that felt miserable, and he was entirely exhausted but he was correct in the near endless amount of projects, that required his immediate attention and looking after. He wanted to sleep, but that was something he was not going to get while all of these issues, drove him to a breaking point.
Any chances of resting his eyes and body was getting more difficult, where he insisted to work harder and longer hours. Between the breaks of his grueling work-load, he would occasionally doze off for a short ten minutes, only to jolt himself awake, and get back to any number of his projects.
"I just wanted to help him Starfire." Cyborg slammed a fist onto the frame. "Why couldn't I do it?"
"There was nothing more that could be done." The Tamaranean wrapped her arms around him, and she watched him gradually collapse to his knees. "There was nothing any of us could do."
Cyborg felt the entire weight of all his tasks and emerging challenges plummet across his mind, flooding any worries or doubts into the long list of chores that could not be ignored. He wanted so desperately to rest, and yet Robin did not appear to even care. It was a duel without words, a battle of wits without a call to action being demanded, but there was a palpable understanding between both of these young men.
The Teen Titan's technological expert was not a robot, and he utterly detested being treated as such. This only made his blood burn hotter, and his anger exploded into a much more violent rage, as it was becoming clear to Starfire, that he needed a break from everything.
"Cyborg." Starfire wheeled herself in front of him, as he leaned his back against the grill of the car. "It was not your fault."
"Don't sugar coat this Starfire." He breathed out of his nose heavily. "There is no need to cover for him. Or me."
"I am only expressing my true concerns. With you coming to my assistance when you did, you . . . saved me Cyborg."
He slowly inched his attention at her, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't want your gratitude."
"It was through Robin's decision that enabled you to act as you did."
"I went on my own accord Starfire."
"Yes." She turned and approached the other side of the car, and she reached out to touch its smooth metallic textures. "But you came to me when no-one else was able to. If you had not, I might not be here right now. I am truly grateful for that."
Cyborg slowly got back to his feet and he approached her again. "I understand what you want me and Robin to overcome, but honestly, I don't know what more I can do to explain things."
He removed the light that was strung inside the engine, and then he slammed the hood of the car shut, forcing her to break free of the sluggish grogginess that she was feeling for not getting any sleep either.
"But Cyborg." Starfire swallowed a build-up of saliva in her throat. "Falcon's distance only gave us a reason to investigate his background. Although I was disheartened by committing myself to searching for truth without his consent, yet you were just as committed to this task like me, and Robin."
"So I was." He began to swipe a smear of oil away from the driver-side mirror using a clean white towel. "But ever since we looked into that Arkham file, I just haven't been feeling myself."
Her entrancing emerald eyes sparkled in the light, and she stroked her chin using her left hand. "We don't know for sure, if that was in fact Falcon."
"And because of what happened last night, I don't think we ever will ever get to the bottom of this." The gear-head brushed away a piece of dust off from his left shoulder. "It feels like a scratch I can't itch, and knowing that Falcon is . . . never coming back, well it just bothers me that I can never make this right."
"Hmmm." The female warrior replied. "I too feel along the same lines as you do."
"Why did you come here? Is it because Robin wanted you to soften the divide between us?"
"I came, on my own accord."
Cyborg raised an eyebrow. "But, why?"
Starfire rubbed her fingers together as she studied her nails. "If we are to overcome this loss, then we must stick together and not drift apart. We are strongest when we remain true to our values as Teen Titans."
He smirked as he picked things up and organized his work bench. "There are some things that can not be stopped, the roll of the dice, the tick of the clock as our lives all just happen, whatever we decide."
"Do you honestly believe in that?"
The Titan's second-in-command opened the driver's side door, and he began to rearrange the console. He arched his back, then when he finished doing this he frowned.
"After Robin broke the news, when I heard the truth for the first time . . . I think that a part of me . . . was lost." Cyborg's Adams's apple moved prior to him continuing. "I still hold onto my beliefs as you do, that we have better odds by sticking together."
The alien princess unveiled a tiny grin. "Like what happened after Terra's betrayal?"
"But this is different from what happened then."
"There are things that happened that can never be undone."
"Yet you are trying to prevent something . . . something you fear that has been keeping your mind churning, with all sorts of doubts and concerns."
The heroine looked down at the floor, and she nodded in silence.
"We all feel that way Starfire. Why do you think I've been working undisturbed for so long down here?" He asked with a solemn expression.
"So then." She slowly looked up, to lock her eyes with his. "You are trying to understand things?"
"More than that." Cyborg cracked the muscles in his neck. "The answers are not going to be found here at the Tower, I need to search them out, to get a clearer picture from what Robin told us."
After he indicated with his thumb towards the exit of the garage, he got into the T-Car and he turned the key in the ignition.
"My baby is purring like a kitten." Cyborg grinned. A smile, truly strange to see the big guy reveal this during the tough and bitter situation.
Starfire moved away slowly, as he tapped the gas peddle a few times, to check that everything was back to his typical high-quality standards.
"You have only just come home." Starfire spoke up, as he revved the engine. His forehead became slightly wrinkled, as she brushed aside the hair in front of her face. "Why don't you rest?"
He peeked his head out the window. "Not now, not when I need to get to the bottom of this."
"You won't be gone long, will you?"
He toyed with the mirror that clung to his windshield, so that he could get a much better view of things behind him. As his teammate looked on, he prepared to depart and the gadget expert unlocked the main doors, forcing the underground tunnel to open itself.
The blinking yellow glows started to flash on and off, lighting the path through the tunnel that would take him back to the concrete jungle. The maw of the pathway was a project that he had excavated with Robin, and while the two commanding forces of the Teen Titans had worked so long and hard to get things done, the differences in their leadership was pulling them in opposite ends.
"I've got to learn the truth." He peered at the pulsing glow down the long pathway, the eerie canal that linked their home to Jump City, which was built below the waterline. "So far I've been playing this game at Robin's leisure, now it's time that I got a crack at this."
"Beast Boy's birthday is almost here."
His facial expression quickly changed from one of anger to wrinkled befuddlement again. "I almost forgot. He'll be sixteen years old, right?"
She nodded in silent compliance.
"Damn. He doesn't even know about Falcon yet." Cyborg shook his head. "Well, the doctors said that he would be out for a few days."
"Two at the least."
"So when he awakens, it will be on his birthday. Man, talk about a shock to the system."
"Yes, there will most surely be a long list of questions he will need answered." Starfire smiled. "But that is why we all must be there for him."
"Right." He resumed his focus, back onto the computers and monitors across the panel in front of him.
"That is why . . . you must be there."
"I can't really explain this desire to go." Cyborg blinked as he arched his head up once more. "I guess it's because the thing I lost, was more than a friend."
Starfire became puzzled. "What was it?"
Cyborg locked his right human eye onto hers, as his left red sensor glimmered against the darkness. "I want to find something to believe in again. I need to do this . . . so Beast Boy can believe in it too."
"But Cyborg." The Tamaranean Princess felt her heart beating much faster. Already the team was severely weakened, and an incredible fear that something potentially fatal could happen to the team's technological expert, that was clinging to her conscience, like her shadow along the floor.
"Starfire, don't worry about a thing."
She awoke from the heavy trance. "Oh?"
He lightly chuckled in the driver's seat, but then he became very serious. "The truth Robin gave us was pretty vague, what I am going after is more . . . it is something deeper."
"Deeper?"
"I need to get closure Starfire. I need to go to where this whole thing started, so I can end it."
"I am not sure that I understand." She looked away. "But, promise me that you will come back. For Beast Boy."
"Yeah. You can count on me being there, when he wakes up."
She quietly wheeled herself to the side, as her comrade brought the manual shifter into drive. The red streaks from the tail-lights brightened up the tunnel he zoomed into, as he blasted his way towards the metropolis.
As the most muscular figure of their distraught family drove further away from their home, Robin was slumped over the main desk within his room, where the sensors in the tunnel that were monitoring for any unusual activity began chirping. This alarm suddenly awoke him.
He blinked his eyes, as the cold darkness brought an unequivocal sensation of gloom with horrific despair, to remain clinging all around him. As he peered at the computer on his desk that cut to various security feeds around Titans Tower, he observed the T-Car with it's driver leaving.
Robin squinted his eyes, as he moved his attention back to the rectangular table he had collapsed onto. He forgot how long he was asleep, but it was known that hours had passed since he broke the news about Falcon.
News clippings of the countless criminals that he and his heroic teammates had captured, were plastered all over his bedroom walls. These triumphs were something to take pride in, yet the real big story that continued to haunt him, was that Slade was still causing problems.
A very recent photograph in the paper, was set upon the stacks of various news articles across the counter, and he was entirely focused on it, just like a patron in an art gallery. He looked back and forth at all of the faces, which revealed Dr. Light, The Amazing Mumbo, and Mad Mod.
They were beaten-up, slouched together in handcuffs and sitting on the curb. The headline above it read: "Back From Tokyo, The Teen Titans Do It Again." Just to the right side, a column proposed a startling question; "A Possible New Member?"
An image revealed a young man, who's long crimson cloak fluttered about him, as the sharp hood revealed his dissimilar eye color that were fixated at the photographer. The two frightful scars across his right eye were difficult to ignore, as the pure whiteness that consumed it was truly unique, from the brown left eye.
This moment was captured by the press, and it revealed Cyborg slapping Beast Boy a high-five in the background, while Robin had his arms interlocked over his chest, as he was seen discussing things to a police officer, as Raven and Starfire were standing in another corner of the picture.
The question that the editor asked in the headline burned deeply into Robin's retinas, and he blinked while allowing his right hand to travel down his face. Similar with the rest of his family, Robin was utterly exhausted. He would easily slump over at any chance, and drift into a long sleep.
This was one of a few photographs that the Teen Titans had of Falcon, and he bowed his head while the ache in his neck became horribly sore.
"I failed them." Robin whispered. "I let my team down, but above all these things I let you down. I . . . I'm sorry." His firm grip about the newspaper clipping become weaker, and it swooshed to the counter like a leaf dropping from a branch.
The Boy Wonder closed his eyes, as he tried to remember exactly what kind of a person Falcon was.
He recalled The Shadow Manipulator running from one rooftop to another, as he cornered the flaunting criminals in the street. Falcon apparently enjoyed boasting his handy skills, and the unusual mystical powers at his fingertips.
Maybe the dark Necromancer only stuck out for himself in the past, yet the young lad did not hesitate to doing the right thing. Was there an atonement of some grave failure he had committed?
The vibe that was given off by the recent addition to their team, was that he had a very specific agenda, and it somehow correlated with fighting and capturing criminals. But for what reason did he do this? He came from the East Coast, he was searching for truth, he was driven to uncover where a monster of his past had fled.
Was he simply a misunderstood teenager, with a sad backstory trying to pick up the broken pieces of his life, to move forwards? Always a harder approach came to the front of Robin's mind, as he circled back to this debacle.
For what truth and data that he did have on this rather delicate subject, it gave the impression that Falcon was all of these things, yet he never seemed to have wanted any of it.
"Who were you?" Robin questioned out-loud, as he stared with serious intent at the image.
The single light that arched over him and illuminated the objects across the table, the brightness gradually darkened as he realized his own limitations. His heart rate began to thump louder, as a few droplets of sweat began to pour down his face.
Countless memories of Beast Boy smiling at him, it brought a chill to the team leader's spine, and he shuddered this out of his system, as he recalled the vile deception that he had orchestrated. Then, the angry wrinkled scowl across Falcon's face made him cringe, as the newest member pushed the group away, while they ate pizza together.
Upon telling his friends what happened, this memory came spinning forwards. Starfire was viewed bowing her head in shame, as Raven looked at her feet, and Cyborg leaned his arm against the main window of the Common Room.
Everything blurred into the subtle face of Terra, the original sixth teammate. But this quickly became obstructed by darkness, and in the deep void, beyond the most concealed depths of his past, the tragedy of his childhood replayed for him.
-Flashback-
Robin observed his mother reaching out to him, the look of unbound horror in his father's brown eyes, as his loving parents quickly realized at that exact moment that the bar they were holding onto was loosening, and that they were going to drop to their deaths.
"DICK!" His mother called out.
"NO!"
Total blackness overtook the nightmare, then the pitter-pattering of rain became louder. When Robin opened his eyes, he was his much younger twelve-year-old self, and he noticed a pair of tombstones.
Standing right besides him, a very muscular man donning an elegant black suit was being as supportive as anyone could be, at a funeral.
"I miss them . . . it's just not fair."
Tears streaked down the young lad's cheeks after he said this, while the downpour outside the awning continued.
This unpleasantness now evaporated, as the pit of despair within his mind brought out the very first moment he witnessed The Dark Knight's outline, stepping forth from the shadows. The squinting eyes behind the frightful mask, this memory forced Robin to awaken!
-End of Flashback-
Sweat clung all over his face, as he felt himself being tugged from one choppy story into another. The timeline was there, but it was getting sliced into pieces, while everything was speeding by much quicker.
Robin panted heavily and with his back turned to the exit, the hissing of the sliding door quickly grabbed his attention. He moved his head slowly, to observe the beautiful Tamaranean Princess, right in the the hallway.
The lonesome darkness of his abode quickly receded away, as the light from the corridor seeped inwards. It calmed his nerves to see her, as her presence had a way of defusing tension.
Starfire's hand was leaning against the door frame, and she spoke in her gentle voice. "I am wondering . . . if you might wish to-"
"No." Robin bluntly cut-her off. He inched his posture forwards onto the desk, as the attractive girl frowned in silence. "Thanks."
Starfire's cheeks blushed, as she clasped her hands together. This compliment brought some happiness to her spirit. "Perhaps if you were to, take a break, the answer would be easier to-"
"I can't." Robin now stood in front of his doorway, and he stroked his chin with his right hand. "He's planning something. I have to find out what."
"But Robin, I am sure that-"
The Boy Wonder closed the door and he locked it, leaving Starfire stranded without any answers or compassion. She bowed her head and released a gentle sigh.
"I see it now. So much of it is there, the pain and frustration, the detachment of yourself to the rest of us." Starfire whispered on the other side of his room. "Robin . . . you need not carry this burden alone."
Robin raised his head to observe the glowing screen of his laptop, resting upon another counter. It revealed a scrolling batch of images, and information from various patients at Arkham Asylum.
Within the right pocket side window on the screen, the very same image of the seven-year-old boy, wearing a black eye-patch over his right eye, dressed in an orange prison jump suit was seen. It was the mug-shot that she along with Cyborg had shown him, with the bar-code across the lower section.
The numbers in sequence: 8762488 in thick black ink, was the most striking part, as the photograph was split into four equal slots. Within the bottom right quadrant picture, on the back of his neck, this very branding was tattooed into his flesh.
It appeared like the child was a piece of cattle, being processed for the slaughter where in a strange twist of horrific fate, most patients at Arkham Asylum carried no moral ethics or principles, as others unfortunate enough to be sent here, any patients could be used as cannon fodder for top secret projects.
The sad truth of this was, that most people sent to places like this facility, were abandoned and nobody wanted anything to do with them.
Cyborg had debunked any conspiracies against these claims, as the establishment that controlled the facility would do whatever it could, to keep it running. Even submitting itself to the dark nature, of selling its own patients for profit, like they were guinea pigs, and it went against all human legality in The Bill of Rights.
If certain government-run facilities made a profit at the expense of unwanted beings, it solved a critical problem within society, but at a terrible cost. As morbid as it was to think along this line, it was very true and well documented that any work to find cures, and make weapons for the military, had been going on for decades, and Robin did not doubt the rough edges on Falcon.
The guy clearly had a chip on his shoulder regarding trust, and he was uncomfortable around groups of people. Case in point, their first pizza dinner together.
Unfortunately, there were very limited options, in ways of bringing this to the courts, as even this terrible and unmitigated insane asylum, had burrowed and then firmly entrenched itself too deeply into the political offices that ran Gotham.
Any evidence that was unearthed, linking the treatment of the inmates as some barbaric heinous act from the Spanish Inquisition, it was typically shredded into oblivion. The limited operations that were uncovered, even the more serious offenses that were kept under lock and key, of doctor/patient confidentiality were very difficult to ascertain.
It was this very understanding, that made Robin almost vomit, as the unique tattoo imprinted on the back of the young boy's neck, it made him recall the images he had seen and read about, of the interned prisoners at the concentration camps during the Second World War.
The truth of Falcon's origins, was going to be an unsolved mystery, and it would haunt Robin in never being able to fully get justice, for his ally.
Trying to sleep was a monumental task for the Teen Titan's leader, where every time he began to close his eyes, the horrors and nightmares would force him to awaken. His parents falling, his mother crying out his name, the dozens of bats fluttering all around him, as he took his oath inside The Batcave.
With the reminiscent sounds of wings, caused from the nocturnal creatures circling over his head, Robin glanced across his left shoulder, as he gradually felt that his response to his most trusted friend and romantic interest, may have been the wrong approach.
Starfire wanted to comfort him, and to receive her beau's moral support during this intrepid time of grieving. As much as the team struggled to keep unified, following their unfortunate loss of Falcon, there was only discontent growing within their ranks, instead of solidarity.
They would never be an effective team of superheroes, so long as they remained this way. The mood for the Teen Titans was at its lowest point, and despite them saving their city from a total collapse, the media demanded answers, the citizens were outraged, and the vile architect behind the death in their family, was still hiding within the shadows.
"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos . . . Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos . . ." Raven repeated in her rasping pitch, while she meditated hovering over a long flat rock.
Her eyelids were shut, as the lengthy dark blue cloak that was wrapped about her black leotard, gracefully swayed about her trim figure. At long last, she had achieved what she so badly desired, from the moment having arrived back home.
She was levitating in mid-air, her concentration was entirely fixated on regaining control of her powers. Like so many times before, this delicate process was required after any ordeal, so she could maintain the balance of her life, and not slip into the grasp of corruption.
The golden opportunity to meditate was not ignored, and she remained true to the teachings that helped the young woman, to retain control of her elemental powers, and the dark side of her father.
As the afternoon sun cascaded across her uncloaked face, the warmth helped to sooth her. The Enchantress reached out through her telepathic abilities, seeping through space and time, and while she was in her Astral-Projection form, she floated into the hospital room that Beast Boy lay sleeping.
Come on Beast Boy. Why can't you answer me? The mind-link she had formed with him, late that night just a few days ago, was being tapped into. However there was only silence. What is going on . . . why can't you talk to me?
Again, there was no response.
Raven sighed as she opened her eyes, and the brightness partially blinded her for a second. Dark shady bags of sleep deprivation were clearly visible under her eyes, and the meditation was not intended for napping, but to remain alert and for a person to cleanse their soul.
She allowed herself to gently float to the ground. Her legs were still crossed in the lotus position, and she unveiled a smirk as the beach she rested on, brought greater tranquility and calmness to her.
"Strange." Raven's rasping voice cut through the stillness. "I never expected that this would happened as quickly as it did . . . but then again, are we ever fully prepared?"
The water crashing into the shoreline held her attention, as the sparkling of the sunlight fractured across the waves in the Jump City Bay. It reminded her of a famous oil painting she once saw in an art gallery.
The sounds of feisty seagulls overhead caused her to look up, as the distant echo of traffic across the countless roadways, ricocheted in the background. These things would be a common annoyance to the Gray Empath every week, but not today.
The constant hustle of city life reminded her, that things were still functioning, and that the efforts of her and the rest of her team, had secured the safety of the many thousands of its inhabitants.
Despite the harassing media, and the bothersome grumblings which the common-folk spread about, the facts remained that The Teen Titans had stopped the explosives, and no civilians were harmed.
The loss of Falcon began to unsettle her, and she frowned while staring out at the churning tide. It was dangerous territory to be treading through, and to not have accountability for their comrade was heart-wrenching.
"I failed him." The enchantress spoke as a gust of wind picked up. "There is no turning back from this."
As she pulled a few strands of her violet hair behind her left ear, the grinning smile from Beast Boy popped into her thoughts. At first, suffering the inexcusably rude behavior from the Necromancer during their first day together was upsetting, that was all the ammunition she desired to pry him away, from her family.
Now, as his sacrifice to assist them in their mission last night hounded her, when Falcon could have just walked out of their lives, the tables had turned. This fact would haunt her, as Terra still did.
The bridging of a final cordial peace with him, the sense of unrecoverable ground only felt to have slipped away, and along with the others, this was not the time for celebration. Being an Empath, she sensed how everyone else was feeling, and their disjointed moods also darkened her already gloomy outlook.
She would not make the same mistake twice, and she refused to hold back these issues towards her allies. When she was to see Beast Boy again, things would be different.
The pale teenager wanted to move forwards in their platonic relationship, yet the unfortunate dilemma had unraveled itself before her very eyes, as she rushed to his assistance at the hydroelectric dam.
"What is so critical about this test I need to answer, that the manifestation in Beast Boy's mind wanted me to unlock?"
-Flashback-
"There is a balance to us all; each person must find peace within themselves and their choices of the past. Until that time however, the mind will remain torn, and the Beast will consume him until there is nothing left of the boy you knew."
"What am I supposed to do?"
The murkiness began to rise about her ankles, and everything was becoming much more difficult to hear. Raven raised her hands and tried to comprehend what was happening, as she felt that she was about to be brought back to the real world in a few moments.
"What is this test? Answer me!"
"You are a true friend, and to help him you must be fully prepared for what you will confront."
-End of Flashback-
The sorceress's expression suddenly transformed from an empty glare, into utter shock, as the immediate realization of the green cloaked guide she had met, came spiraling back to her. It was like she was tumbling down a hole with no rope or ladder to climb out from, and the only direction she could proceed in, was by going deeper.
The journey she had taken, to ease the shapeshifter out of his stupor of depression a few days ago, it brought out other revelations which she had been avoiding.
Now that Raven was getting a firm handling on what the werewolf entity actually was, the concealed feelings that the changeling had towards her, the desire to be closer to her that she struggled to grasp, it finally became seen for what it was.
"Was it so obvious this entire time?" Raven asked, while looking at her clenched hands. "Was it right in front of me, and I simply overlooked it?"
The tide collided into the shore, and she turned to look at the water. The churning of the ocean was pleasant, as the salty smell overtook her senses.
"Could it really be that simple?"
Beast Boy was a very peculiar young adult, where it was through his distinctive intuitive attempts, to keep on fighting that shined the brightest. His tenacious attitude for victory, the pride in being a superhero ran his other jester-like qualities, rather than simply being a green skinned teenage boy with pointy ears.
Raven did grow incredibly exhausted from the cheesy puns and feted one-liners, that the shapeshifter unloaded day after day. His scrawny stature and nagging quip was the complete polar opposite, to everything that embodied the pale girl.
Beast Boy needed an audience, Raven preferred to be alone. The changeling was committed to expanding the escapades upon his friends, and goofing off in his spare time, where as the Empath wanted nothing more than to read books, and broaden her mind.
Yet for all of their differences, loud or subtle, the quirks that made their personalities completely opposed from each other, they also brought respect. A compassion to learn and to become more open and hospitable, it expanded as the years wore on.
"After all this time, and only now does it hit me." Raven shook her head; "The irony of it."
She unclenched her right fist, and in her palm the penny that Beast Boy had found and given to her, so long ago made her feel closer to him.
Just then a loud and repetitive barking from a German Shepherd, suddenly awoke the Empath from this thought. Raven looked over her shoulder, as the powerful and fully grown beast came racing over!
"Sibs?!" Raven was partially taken aback, as the dog licked her chin. "Well, at least someone is happy around here."
The compassionate hound tilted his head, while his tail wagged back and forth was revealing a super energetic mood. Raven could only half-smirk in response, as she patted his head and kneeled alongside him.
"Just when things start to get into place, right when things feel normal . . . the rug is instantly ripped from beneath our feet." The Empath exhaled. "You once taught me, that there was always a possibility to make things better. I still hope . . . I know that I can make this right."
"Woof!"
Raven stroked his fur coat, running her fingers along the animal's neck and up the tips of his pointy ears. The protective German Shepherd sniffed the air, and then he inched a little closer.
"You're waiting for Falcon . . . aren't you?"
The wagging of his tail abruptly ended, and the dog stared out at The Bay Bridge. The heroine followed his gaze, to observe the red steel and impressive frame work.
"It's true that he found you, and brought you back with us from the Junkyard." Raven continued petting his black and brown shiny coat, filling his craving for love and attention. "Now look at us, where does one go, who can you turn towards, when everything falls to pieces?"
"Woof!"
"You're right, it can't be all bad." Raven's expression transitioned into a much more prominent smile. "I've got a hunch, that a certain Tamaranean Princess is plotting something. I think she may need our help."
Remembering that Beast Boy was turning another year older in barely a few days, Raven chuckled. With all that was happening and the quickness of the world, it was a struggle to keep on top of events.
The attractive sorceress was not an enthusiastic participant of group activities, or birthday celebrations for obvious reasons. However, there were the occasional moments that even Raven chipped in, and offered her assistance.
"Come, lets head indoors and get the preparations set. I believe that a birthday cake is required for these sort of anniversaries."
Sibs pointed ears twitched. The loyal shepherd got up, and he trotted to the demoness as she remained a few feet ahead on the path.
"I don't know how to feel about any of this." Raven glanced to her boots. "Beast Boy is alive because of Robin's actions, because of our actions. But Falcon . . . Falcon . . ."
She could not find the words, and she stopped her approach to entrance-way, as the guard dog did the same. He tilted his head while panting, where Raven knelt beside him as her smile had faded once more.
"Falcon is not coming back." She managed to hold back the tears. "But we can still honor him, we can honor them both."
"Woof!" Sibs leaned in and gave her another wet doggy kiss, where this action broke her free of the trance.
"Robin once told me, that I was the most hopeful person he ever knew." She shifted her eyes back to the famous coin. "But it is clear to me now, that I would never have even dared to hope, had it not been for luck, the chance of seeing more in the situation that Beast Boy wanted me to see."
The leading medical doctors of Saint Mary's Critical were sitting around a massive board room table. Files and paperwork were evenly spread about, in front of these high ranking officials, that went through the various procedures and laborious tasks of oversight, and partaking in the care of any major operations.
"Right, his right leg is obviously broken in more than one place, his lower right ankle took the brunt of pressure from whatever fell upon him, while three of his ribs are fractured." One of the older men who was bald read their report. A name badge of Henry Saliston was visible across his front breast pocket.
"Aside from these obvious injuries that the patient has sustained, there was a severe laceration across his forehead that indicated blunt-force trauma." A far younger and very attractive woman said next, as her black hair was tied back in a professional ponytail. "With what we have gathered, he is probably going to be suffering from concussion-like symptoms for the coming weeks."
"I wouldn't doubt it." said another man.
Dr. Mark Jackson Spears had been astutely listening to these dedicated men and women he surrounded himself with. His hands were folded in front of him, as his fingers were pressed against his lips.
He was in deep thought, concerned with the outcome of their intervention with the surgery, and he was a bit tired for the lack of sleep that he had been getting. Fatigue had begun to set in, and the heavy bags were visible below his eyes.
"The patient sustained a lot of injuries." An Indian medical doctor spoke with a thick accent, as he glanced up from his folder. "But he seems to be under stable conditions as of now."
"Good. Very good." Mr. Spears responded while nodding his head, and he leaned forwards. "What other problems are we dealing with here?"
"Sir?" asked Henry Saliston.
"Well." Chief Resident Spears replied. "he may seem fine and ordinary when he awakens, but something is not adding up. Is it?"
It felt like crickets were heard chirping away in the board room. All eyes were drawn to him now, and he felt the question was like an ebb of an aura floating at him from their gazes.
"Indeed, he had no paperwork or documentation, no license or photo I.D. when he was brought to us." The young woman chimed in.
"So our John Doe is some stranger who was transferred from Jump City, that was uncovered and rescued by your daughter . . . who with very limited training and medical experience only jumped in to assist this young man."
There was a second awkward silence that lingered, and then a young man in the corner sat up a little higher, gesturing that he was about to interrupt.
"Yes Mr. Corrnigan, we all know that you are thrilled to have helped on this case, being that this is the big-leagues for you and that this was similar to your first time, I must give credit where it is do." Mark Jackson Spears said this, and all of the various faces turned to the opposite end of the table. "But unless you have something of importance to contribute to this council, then may I suggest you mind your place and not interrupt me, as time is short and we all have other very important matters to attend to."
The young man of twenty-five years, with blue eyes nodded politely, and he slouched back down into his chair.
"Now then, all that remains is for your underlings to do the last of the patch-up work." Chief Resident Spears worked the stiffness out, by massaging the sore vital points of his lower back and neck.
The gathering of the nurses and doctors within the business room turned their heads back and forth between these two having this discussion, as they remained quiet. When their boss slowly soothed things, a few of the doctors closed their folders and began to leave.
"Where do we go from here sir?" Corrnigan asked with shakiness in his tone.
Mark Spears rubbed his eyes and he readjusted his glasses, then he stood up and placed a hand onto the young man's left shoulder.
"We do our job. We get the patient healthy again, then once he is good enough to make it out the door, he is no longer our burden." Spears replied as he tapped him a few times, before turning his back.
"Okay. I just thought that . . . well, we don't even know who he is."
"Right. That's why were running a background check on him. Just like every John Doe that is rushed into this facility."
"But no matter who they are, we still have to treat the patient." The young woman broke into their privet conversation next.
"As part of our Hippocratic Oath." The young Corrnigan rasped.
"I will remember that I am a member of Society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body, as well as the infirm." Dr. Spears recited the mantra they all knew by heart.
"If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter." The woman said next as she smiled.
In the hallway, a girl slowly approached but suddenly froze in place, as she overheard these words which she was still studying to remember.
"May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling, and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help." Elizabeth's gentle voice caught the three surgeons entirely off their guard, and they turned to face the doorway.
"You sure that you can handle this on your own?" The gorgeous woman asked, as she stroked Mark Jackson Spears arm. "I can stay longer if you would-"
"It's alright." The Chief Resident interrupted her, while clearing his throat. "You two have about a dozen other patients that need your looking after."
"Very well." The beautiful brunette nodded her head, and she along with her co-worker Corrnigan left the room.
The forty-year-old Chief Resident and guardian of Elizabeth Saffire Spears, he simply interlocked his arms as he stood. Meanwhile the teenager partially glanced towards the door being closed behind her, and then she resumed her attention on the only other person in the room.
Elizabeth had done something truly queer, in the fact that she should have returned to their apartment, immediately following her efforts in rescuing the stranger that was brought to an entirely different city, many miles out of her way.
The fourteen-year-old girl approached the polished table in the very center of the boardroom, as the windows to Los Angeles along the side wall revealed the many skyscrapers just beyond.
She delicately caressed the surface with her left fingers, and she tapped a quiet melody of Beethoven's famous Ninth Symphony against the material.
"Still with that tune?" He asked in a gruff and rasping tone, and he turned away from her to close the folder near his seat. "I seem to recollect that it was a favorite of yours, during your piano lessons."
She gradually let her eyes study him.
"Why are you here?" He asked, while he approached a window as both of his hands were clasped behind his back. "You know you had every reason to go home, what more did you have to prove?"
Her focus was still on his broad shoulders, where the white lab coat was a true mark of a high ranking official in the medical community. However, there were other elements that he had to sacrifice in order to obtain the overly demanding job that he had.
The fissure within their father/daughter relationship was only seeping wider, and she wanted to bridge a gap for cordial peace between them. After tragedy struck a terrible blow, when Mrs. Spears had passed away, everything changed.
She brushed aside a strand of her dark blue hair behind her left ear, and she began to spin one of the chairs. "Why do anything you might ask?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she smirked. "As the oath I am practicing and which you and all of your staff understand by heart, is that . . . may I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling, and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help."
Mark exhaled the stale oxygen from his body, as his shoulders bobbed downwards a little. "Don't give me that." He raised an open hand, and he pointed. "Not here, not now."
"I know that you are concerned for my safety and well being, and that you are not being overbearing or too constrictive in my yearning to grow in this field, like you once sought out at my age."
"You are fourteen." He turned. "Fourteen! Elizabeth, you may be more than capable of great and impressive works of viable skills, but you are still a teenager. My daughter!"
"True, but I am not far off from others in committing themselves entirely to a task that they want to master. In that regard, am I any different?"
Mark approached her and he placed his hands onto her shoulders. "You are brave, courageous, fearless even to do what you did and beyond. I must give respect, for even getting a head start on the paperwork of events at The Jump City Rail Lines, all the way to now."
"Thanks." She blushed.
"But you have much to learn." He turned away.
"I know."
He struggled with trying to find the correct words without sounding too bitter or condescending about her decisions last night.
"You are my daughter." Mark Jackson Spears rubbed his chin. "You are my responsibility, and while I know that my working here has been . . . difficult on you, I have obligations to keep."
"I understand that you did not want me to get involved in that mess last night, because I could have gotten hurt." The aspiring medical intern spotted his brown eyes reflecting in her direction from the window, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "Yet nobody was there, I was the only person on site with any medical skills, and while I could have walked away, I knew that to fulfill my obligation to the code so many in our field preach, I could not abandon him."
"I told you to head home, and you disobeyed my instructions." He shook his head. "You wanted to help and fulfill your duty, even though it was not your burden."
"I know that I could have gotten hurt, but somebody had to go in, and there was nobody around willing to take that risk!"
Her tone jumped from the normal and tender pitch into an angry echo. It forced Mark to resume his complete attention back in her direction.
"I'm not a little girl anymore." Elizabeth continued her rant, as she pressed her body against the table.
"Yes, you are not just a child." He smirked as the differences and heated debate was cooling back down. "Even after all that has transpired, you have done incredible good. Just take a step back to think about your actions, before you go through with them."
"I do." Elizabeth exhaled. "I consider all avenues in front of me, and I generate a plan that has the best outcomes.
Mark's eyes behind his glasses squinted a little. "During surgery we must ask ourselves, if there is any other door that we have not considered?"
"Sometimes, we do not have the luxury of detailed plans, as time can be heavily against us. Last night was no exception." She closed her sapphire colored eyes, to recenter her thoughts. "He was bleeding to death in that debris, the entire downtown of Jump City shook from a blast that rocketed the diner I typically go to."
"So you went to uncover what all the commotion was?"
"Yeah, I went to uncover what had happened, and like any instinct that picks up a bad vibe, I cannot explain it but I just had to go and make sense of things."
"Hmmmm." Her father sighed.
"In understanding how I am, I realize that I can be a bit-"
"Rebellious?"
She smirked. "Yeah, but we both know who I learned this from."
He exhaled quietly in the shadows. The sunlight was spreading across the floor and it reached the back of the room, to the opposite end that the teenager was standing.
"It is part of our chosen profession, we cannot deny our very nature." said Mark.
"So then, you're not mad at me for last night?"
He twisted his upper body to confront her now, as he had been struggling over this delicate situation the entire morning.
"Elizabeth, you only went to do what you felt was the right form of action, of course." He unleashed a twisted frown. "While I may be having a difficult time as your father, I realize that I will not always be there to guide you."
The aspiring young medical practitioner now approached him. While the two stood looking at one another, Mark brushed a strand of her hair away from her left eye, and she lunged in and embraced him with an impressive hug.
"There was something about that chaos in Jump City that I needed to find closure, and by helping bring that boy here . . . well, it gave me a sense of peace."
Unknown voices were echoing, bouncing across the room as the patient lay upon his back in the clustered and entirely cramped closet, of the trauma center. Then it dawned on him, of the people he had met barely a few days ago, of his newfound family and friends.
Blood drip, drip, dripped down the entire length of his arms to his fingertips, splashing upon the floor. The red vibrant texture gradually formed a small pool, as the seventeen-year-old bled from all of his deep wounds.
The intense pressure upon his chest had strangely numbed him, as the incredible loss of this vital fluid had brought a freezing chill to his extremities. His eyes were shut, he could recall the things he had heard, everything from the helicopter's main propeller whipping overhead, to the squeaking of the wheels upon the gurney as he was pushed from one place to the next.
He was terribly thirsty where the inside of his mouth was as dry as a hot desert, his lungs felt to be burning, as his right leg felt as though a scorching metal rod that was doused in bubbling lava was being placed inside of his knee, and up his entire thigh! The awful injuries were too severe to heal on his own, he had no way to control anything.
He was tired, much too exhausted to continue on. He wanted to rest and for the longest time, against his own willpower, he was fast asleep.
Falcon was alive, somehow he had made it. The battle of survival had dragged on for hours, the rescue had salvaged any meager chance and it only lingered as the hospital staff monitored him, where the nurses kept his battered body in a state of deep recovery.
The countless faces raced across his thoughts, while the dark shades of purple flashed back and forth into tints of blinding white. Despite his eyes being closed and a bandage wrapped across his forehead, he could smell things. The intense cleaning chemicals, and his ears even picked upon the light electrical hum from the machines he was hooked into.
The beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . from the ECG or the Electrocardiography Device was monitoring his vital signs, and pulsing along to the rhythm of his overworked heart.
The shock from slamming his head against the floor in the train station was potent, and migraine-like symptoms had overtaken his ability to remain alert. To him, the best way to describe it was as if he was standing in the very bottom of a gigantic canyon, as every voice carried a long and slow echo.
The throbbing of his skull, the heavy pounding of his heart that pumped his blood, it made him think of the bitter snow when he was a child. He would race outside in his bare feet which is never a bright idea, yet he wanted to feel and taste and touch everything, including the chill of this white winter season.
This pleasing time quickly became dark, as the unforgiving nature of the world brought his mood to its lowest point. A burning house was before him again, and standing in the snow he saw everything.
His trembling body was unable to run or escape, where the tears cascaded down his face, and the same instance where a person is the hapless witness to a truly soul ripping moment, from a soldier in combat during a time of war, or a simple bystander blocking out a violent mugging taking place in a filthy alleyway. He was a child, but all must grow and come to grips with the loss of innocence.
This was Falcon's defining moment, when everything was lost, as there would be no turning back the clock, and the consequences would forever scar him.
So he just watched, dumbstruck by the nightmarish blaze devouring his home. While the roof crashed in, the heap of the conflagration consuming even the oak tree by the door. A woman scream had rung out, as the structure finally collapsed into the roaring heat!
The blood that traveled across his forehead, it felt like rainwater against his skin. Where the memory of this night long ago, it quickly switched into another. The sprinkling of water cascading across his body, where the towering gates of Arkham Asylum made him quiver by a new fear, as he observed the dark gothic walls of the prison.
Strange faces and unfriendly looks from brute guards, and scientists in white lab coats holding clipboards stared at him. Their gawking expressions horrified the poor lad, as he was dragged beyond the entrance of one void of despair and loss, into utter oblivion.
Just as the fire devoured the life he had, as he heard the bars slamming shut behind him, to welcome him to the facility that he would call home, total despair had washed over the child.
He was forced against his will, a young boy pleading and begging to be free yet he was powerless and weak. What could this kid hope to achieve? His voice went silent, as a baton was thrust upon the back of his cranium, and everything turned to darkness.
This nightmare had plagued him, it drove him to find a purpose as everything and everyone was lost. He vowed as he sat within a cell, while the bars of solid iron blocked his view of the outside, that he would never stop, that he would never quit until the balance was restored.
To do this, he understood that mercy and forgiveness could never be given. The absolute cruelty of men was unleashed upon him, as he was experimented and broken alongside hundreds of others.
What form of life was there, when all he knew now, was to be brutal and just as unforgiving?
The Necromancer squeezed his fingers against the sheets, as the uttermost hatred boiled within him. He would not give in, as a drive to uphold his oath re-stoked the embers of a rage that expanded and increased to higher levels.
He was going to survive this. He had always considered himself to be the undisputed underdog, and once Slade was to cross paths with him again, there would be no stopping the might of the dark sorcerer, no place to run off and evade judgment.
This was only a minor inconvenience, where each scar and wound that he carried only made him grow ten times stronger. Falcon was going to have his revenge.
-Flashback-
Slade bent downwards, to lock his eye with the unmatched pair of this seventeen-year-old challenger. "Think of me what you will, but you cannot escape from the truth, any longer."
"What are you taking about?"
"You may have blocked this from your mind, so allow me, to jog your memory. As it was written in the very book you discarded."
"No."
"The die has been cast, the day of reckoning is soon to arrive; where he who accepts this new fate, by taking the lives of his tormentors, when corrupted by its dark powers, he shall bring about an evil that is so terrible that he is bound to consume the light, of all living things; into shadow, and flame."
"That is just a myth!" Falcon surged his head up, as the weight of gravity, pulled him down again.
"Then why do you tremble, when you hear those words?" Slade's menacing eye squinted. "You may say that you have been searching for the truth, you say . . . that you want to end me. But, when you hear it, when you come face to face with it, with me, why do you turn away?"
Silence.
"The Teen Titans you have allied yourself with, they are not your friends, because you chose this path." Slade continued speaking. "Robin is using you, as you used him, because it suits his needs."
-End of Flashback-
This memory twisted his stomach into a tight knot. He wanted to bring the untapped and truly unknown bounds of his dark powers, to the front of everything. Whether this would lead to his own demise was something he had long fought against, and that he struggled to control, but a prophecy of this grandiose nature could not be allowed to consume him.
A hero would turn this dangerous path down, but Falcon had been cut off from The Teen Titans. The Necromancer began to question whether he had been a hero to begin with, and the call for vengeance seethed inside of his heart.
{{ End Of Scene }}
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Reviews From The Previous Chapter:
Linzerj: " . . . Wow. This . . . this was great! I . . . I can't describe it! There are no words - curse you dictionary! Anyway . . . lovely job, I can't wait for more!"
~~It is a deep pleasure to keep writing this out, but I always beat myself up, over what I have written and I am really quiet embarrassed, for how rushed the earlier chapters were crafted. Too many errors and everything was dragging the pace down, but at least it is way easier to read now, instead of the chapters being entirely mushed together. It is all about the pacing.~~
Dcfan100: "Hey! You're still alive! And . . . it is still as awesome as I remember! There is so much her I could just keep ranting on and on about. Instead I'm gonna keep it short and just say that it was completely E-P-I-C! Amazing Job!"
~~Yes, I am still alive and not a brainless zombie. I do admit however, that I have faced quiet the hoard in Left for Dead 2; and I had some pretty close calls as they clawed their way after me and my teammates. Rest assured; they were no match for my formidable shooting and ax chopping skills. {X-D}~~
bk00: "You don't even understand how much I love you T.M.O. This was really a great chapter! J-just wow. And here I was worrying you disappeared!"
~~I strive to do my best, where in the past my writing was simply sub-par but I always worked from my heart. It was a deep and unexplained passion in the beginning, that I am unable to even describe the power it had over me. In all honesty, that was the main fuel to propel me onwards. I was gone for quiet a long while; but my mind was deeply torn on what I truly believed in, and if I could still continue with my craft. I know now, in my very core that I can.~~
xSaffire55x: "So intense. It seems like Robin is losing his team. It is sad to think the Titans think that Falcon is dead. Well Elizabeth seems to be adopted. I wonder who her birth parents are and what happened to them. It also seems there is only Mark Spears, where's his wife? And the Beast and Beast Boy are fighting. So much tension! Please update soon!"
~~I am unsure if I have all of the characters stricken with strife and turmoil, dragging them down just enough though? There is plenty more to be filled in along the way, for overall everyone I think. {;-D}~~
Muddie: "Another emotionally charged chapter, this was. You really are getting better at this fanfiction business, aren't you? My only gripe is that the language used at times is unnatural as you attempt to describe things in detail but end up using awkward sentence structures. Also, I noticed a few typos so be careful next time! Don't be disheartened by my somewhat harsh comments. I did enjoy this chapter. Please continue to write NO MATTER WHAT!"
~~I hope to be getting better. I only strive for improvements in my work, and if I act like a sponge then I grow and absorb the errors into solutions. It has now been a full year since chapter one was posted; let's just say that I have traveled a rather long way to get here, but there is still so much more to overcome. I'm only disheartened in myself really; all of the flaws you pointed out helped to boost my confidence a great deal higher in understanding what I needed to work on. ;-) No problemo my friendarin-o. What I write; it comes from my heart. Thanks for the continued support in me.~~
~~T.M.O~~