Fan Fiction ❯ Embracing the Darkness ❯ Chapter 4 - A Good Doctor ( Chapter 4 )

Author's Note - I'm terribly sorry that this chapter took so long to complete. I'm afraid I had to contend with the infinite joys of term papers and final exams. Now that that's all over and done with I'll try to keep chapter updates as regular as possible.

 

Disclaimer - I have never and will never own Teen Titans

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4 - A Good Doctor

 

The single window in my room didn't face the direction the sun would be rising in, yet that didn't stop me from closing the curtains as a precaution. It was, after all, right next to my bed. The alarm clock on my bedside table continued to tick off its even measure of time and all I could do was wait. With a pile of pillows supporting my head, I lay on my back and simply stared blankly up at the black fabric interior of my canopy. As the hours passed I found myself counting individual stitches in the material. On occasion my eyes would pass over the slit I'd recently cut in the cloth to hide my blood supply.

 

It had been about mid-afternoon, perhaps later, when I'd first drank; it was now early morning. Although the feeling wasn't as intense as it had been when I'd first awoken, I could sense minute pangs of hunger and a slight dryness to my throat. I knew the blood I had hidden away just over my head would relieve all these discomforts, however minor they were now. I longed for the wonderful feeling of that liquid life flowing into my cold dead body. But that morning I denied myself that pleasure; my rational side winning out over pure desire, as it always had. I had no idea of how much blood I'd need to drink regularly in order to live comfortably, and I had no intention to find out. I wasn't about to starve myself, but I wasn't going to allow myself to enjoy this either.

 

It was around 7:00 that the Tower again came to life. In some rooms I could hear the telltale sounds of alarm clocks sounding the hour while others who had no need for such things could be heard moving about groggily. This eventually gave way to the sound of showers running, Beast Boy cooking a breakfast composed entirely of tofu and other such substitutes. As not just Titans Tower, but the entire world around me awoke to greet the day I was now finally able to sleep. It wasn't a terrible need for rest I felt; yet after an entire night of waiting and hoping for some escape from this situation I gladly accepted it.

 

After rearranging the pillows to a more comfortable arrangement and pulling the bed sheets up and over my form, I settled in for whatever rest I would be allowed. If there wasn't any trouble for the Titans to take care of, I could stay in my room for an entire week without anyone really noticing. And so, with that in mind, I closed my eyes and fell into a relaxed sleep as the sun rose in the morning sky.

Just as I was about to lose all conception of the world around me and enter that inviting state of unconsciousness, a gentle knocking came from my door. Slightly upset at being denied my rest but nonetheless awake, I stood and crossed the distance between the door and myself. Once I'd reached the doorway I stopped short of actually opening it.

 

“Who is it?” I spoke softly through the steel of the automatic sliding door.

 

“Raven, it is I Starfire. I have, in accordance with earthly custom in dealing with the invalid, brought you your breaking of the fast in a manner so that you may eat it in bed. May I come in?”

 

I'd very nearly forgotten what I'd told Starfire the night before, about how I'd have what remained of her celebratory feast for breakfast. I sighed, slightly annoyed at being denied sleep but well aware that I needed to keep up appearances. I reached over to the keypad alongside the doorframe and released the lock, which allowed the bubbly Tamaranian to drift in, holding a large tray full of her native food arranged on a four-legged tray held above her head with only her right hand in an impressive feat of dexterity.

 

“Come, into bed with you,” she spoke with an almost motherly demeanor. “Once you are in a comfortable position I shall see to your meal.”

 

“Starfire, I don't need to have my breakfast in bed. I'll have it in the common room with the others.”

 

“But Raven, you said yourself that you needed rest and rest you shall have. And despite what you may say you don't look very well. You seem incredibly pale.”

 

“Star, I've always been pale. I was pale the day we first met. How is my complexion any different today than it was a week ago?”

 

“I am unsure. It merely seems that way to me. Perhaps I am overreacting, I probably am, but would you please humor me Raven, just this once. Despite your recovery I am still greatly concerned. We very nearly lost you and…”

 

“Alright Starfire,” I conceded, “I'll have your breakfast in bed if it will alleviate your concerns. Just please don't worry about me so much.”

 

After I'd given in to Starfire's well intentioned pressuring, it was only a matter of moments before I was again resting beneath my bed sheets, my pillows piled up in a manner allowing me to sit comfortably. It was then that Star placed the tray of food over my lap and, as she took a seat to my left on the bed's edge, I beheld what she had brought me. The tray contained several plates each filled with some unrecognizable unpleasant looking substance. I'd come to realize that Tamaranian food was largely made from molds and fungal growth. The sort of things that people here would dispose of as waste Starfire's people would view as common everyday food.

 

“Raven, you are most fortunate. I have gone through my own private stock of food from my home in order to make this. The boys were most generous last night as they left you most of the feast to enjoy at your leisure.”

 

“How very thoughtful of them,” I droned.

 

“I have brought you a sampling of each dish I'd prepared. There are pormonian snapdragglers, a plate of roasted sparn meat, my homemade glorg, and a cup of your favorite herbal tea. I was uncertain whether you liked cow's milk with your tea or not so I brought you a pitcher just in case.”

 

“I'll drink it as is but thanks for the gesture,” I said reaching directly for the small cup of warm tea. As the warm liquid slipped down my throat it had a soothing affect that easily made all my problems seem to disappear. While the effects weren't as potent as simply going to sleep for the next few hours, it was nonetheless a welcome relief. I was glad to find that however much I'd changed over the past twenty-four hours, this remained the same relaxing experience. I barely noticed the sensation of Starfire's weight leaving the mattress beside me. I only became completely aware of it when I heard the faint rustling of Starfire slowly parting the curtains keeping my room devoid of daylight.

 

“No!” I cried out at the last minute, but to no avail. The wave of daylight came rushing through the glass of the window, striking me with considerable force. I did everything I could to shield my sensitive eyes from the painful rays of light. Not worrying or caring about the consequences I threw my teacup down and wrested myself out from beneath the bed-sheets as well as the tray of food Starfire had carefully prepared for me. Everything came crashing forward with a loud clattering sound. I threw myself off of the bed and to the floor, hiding behind my own bed.

 

“Starfire…please close the curtains,” I whimpered.

 

“Raven what…”

 

“Starfire! Please close the curtains! Please! Please!” I now cried out for her.

 

I sat crouched on the floor beside my bed until I heard the telltale sound of the curtains being shut. I still remained on the floor holding myself, whimpering softly. I was filled with a feeling of self-loathing so deep I could barely contain it. Was this what I had been reduced to? Cowering from the sunlight like a frightened child? I hated myself for showing this blatant weakness with such undeniable violence. I hated how Starfire had had a front row seat for the whole spectacle. But most of all I found that I hated what I had become with increased intensity and how it had forced me into this degrading position.

 

As time passed I could hear Starfire's slow deliberate footsteps making their way around the perimeter of the bed, coming up behind me. A warm comforting hand took hold of my right shoulder and I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth of that touch. The coolness of my own body only made the warmth all the more palpable.

 

“Raven,” I turned slowly to acknowledge her voice. My crimson eyes met her green hues and for a time we remained like that frozen in each other's gaze. We both remained silent even as Starfire's breakfast stained my bed sheets. We remained motionless even as a thin trail of some unknown liquid lead away from that terrible mess and dripped incessantly on the carpeted floor beside me.

 

I could now easily understand exactly what Barnabas had meant when he'd told me that a person's eyes could be quite eloquent. As I gazed into Starfire's eyes they spoke volumes to me about the boundless concern she felt for me. This situation was terrible. My reaction to the daylight had been far too violent to simply write off. But none of them could know. Starfire couldn't know. Could she? She was certainly quite ignorant of some of the conventions of Earth's society and culture. But would that be enough for her to understand my situation?

 

Of all my teammates, Starfire was the one I had the closest relationship with. She had the distinctive privilege of being the only person who I granted regular access to my room, an area that was hallowed ground as far as the boys were concerned. I'd have to say that the primary reason for this closeness between us had to do with the incident concerning the so-called “Puppet King” that happened about two years before. He had attempted to trap our souls in small wooden puppets leaving our bodies as his own personal slaves. Starfire and I had been the only ones to escape, but barely. During the process our bodies were switched. Considering neither of us knew very much about the other it made it greatly difficult for us to work effectively. In effect, we were forced to learn about and understand each other out of pure necessity. Although I glossed over certain details of my past and she omitted the minor detail that she was a princess on her home world, we came to an understanding of each other that I had come to value greatly.

 

That, then, was the reason I refrained from telling Starfire at that moment. I simply valued her too much as a friend. Besides I'd felt that the very concept of a creature that needed to feed off the blood of other living beings would be revolting no matter what culture one hailed from. In addition at this point I was still holding onto the hope that I may not have to tell anyone after all. And now that I was up and about all I wanted to do was set out and find a solution to my problem. This meant, of course, that I'd need to be left alone.

 

“Raven, your eyes are very sensitive from the effects of your extensive meditation, yes?”

 

“Yeah…they still are,” I whispered.

 

“I am sorry for not having asked for your permission to open the curtains first. I shall clean this mess for you,” she spoke forlornly.

 

“Star,” I stood shrugging off her hand, “its fine. I'll take care of it myself. You didn't know about my eyes and that's understandable. I never told you. So, please allow me. Go and enjoy your breakfast.”

 

I'd apparently struck a nerve with that last remark. Star seemed stunned that I'd refuse her help especially after an incident that she clearly felt was her fault. “But Raven you,” before she could finish her retort the Tower's loud blaring alarm went off, its shrieks echoing throughout the rooms and hallways. When some terrible crime would occur in the city this would be the procedure. I groaned inwardly at the obnoxious sound.

 

The sound of hurried footsteps came down the hall and stopped to only be replaced by the sound of this someone knocking sharply on my door. “Starfire! Raven!” Robin called through the door, “there's trouble in town. It's the H.I.V.E. Jinx, Gizmo and Mammoth have just broken into an electronics store. We're heading out are you coming?”

 

“Yes Robin. Just one moment please,” Starfire called back. “Raven, are you coming.”

 

“Star, I'd rather not. I think I pushed myself a little too much when I left the infirmary last night. I really don't think I'm up for a fight, especially with the likes of Mammoth. Hell, even Control Freak might be able to take me down the state I'm in,” I spoke jokingly. As I spoke I found that I'd gotten fairly good at having to lie when necessary. In truth I felt just as well as I had before this whole debacle had begun, perhaps even better than before. However, my situation meant I'd be just as useful to them in a fight as any bystander haplessly caught in the fray.

 

“Very well, I shall tell the others of your decision.” She briefly directed her attention towards the mess that I'd made of my bedspread. “Also, please allow me to

clean this up upon my return. If you wish you may use my bed for the time being.”

 

“Star, it's not like I'm disabled. All I'm saying is that I won't be of much use to you and the others in a fight right now. I'm beyond the point where I'd need constant medical attent…,” I stopped speaking mid-sentence as a sudden memory came surging back to me. The word “medical” seemed to be significant somehow. What was it? Medical…medical…Jump City Medical School. I remembered that several weeks ago the Titans had been contacted to act as security for an unusual lecture to be held that day. Given all that had been on my mind at that point it was no wonder that I'd forgotten about it. But, why were we still here. We should have headed there hours before now.

 

“Star, what about the Medical School. Weren't we supposed to be there today?”

 

“Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten to tell you. Yesterday while you were meditating the police had called stating that they would be able to handle Professor Chang's lecture themselves. Robin did not complain…much.”

 

“Tell Robin that I'll go there myself,” I continued. “It'll be a good chance for me to get out and get some fresh air.”

 

Starfire seemed immediately uncertain about this proposal of mine. I did appreciate her concern for me as well as the great value she placed upon our friendship, but she would have to realize that I'd be doing this whether she liked it or not.

 

“Very well,” she conceded at last. “I shall tell the others of your plan.

 

“Hey! Starfire! Raven! We're heading out now. Hurry up unless you wanna fly all the way!” Cyborg called from down the hall.

 

“Coming!” Star called back. “Raven I shall see you when we return. Please do take care though.”

 

I suppressed a groan of exasperation. “Yes Starfire, I'll be careful.”

 

With that she beamed happily at me one final time before turning and rushing out the door. And with the soft sound of the door sliding shut behind her I was, thankfully, alone.

 

Jump City Medical School was a division of Jump City State University, being located on part of the larger campus. Getting there from Titans Tower had been a task in and of itself. The sunlight prevented me from flying effectively so I was forced to resort to public transportation, one hour both ways by bus. Wanting to remain as inconspicuous as possible I left the tower wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and jeans rather than my normal uniform of a black leotard and my blue Azarathean cloak. I refrained from removing the bandage from around my neck if only to keep up pretenses.

 

The recent surge in interest in cybernetic prosthetics had lead to the Medical School's expanding of studies in that particular field, however they lacked an actual expert on campus. Cybernetics was still very new and only then was it starting to be accepted as a legitimate solution for the handicapped. To an extent you could call Cyborg the “poster child” for cybernetics. With his fully cybernetic body there was no better advertising for it than news stories about the Titans featuring his crime fighting exploits, showing the good that could be done with this technology.

 

Lacking someone with the proper expertise in the field, the staff at the Medical School was forced to resort to unusual measures. They made the arrangements and managed to secure the services, for a single lecture, of the then incarcerated Professor Chang (under police surveillance of course). I suppose most people involved at that time remembered him as having been one of the most outspoken supporters of cybernetics back when it was still viewed as being largely taboo (a lot of people at the time had misgivings about blending humans and machines in such a manner, or so I've read.) I, of course, will always remember him for his attempt to remodel Jump City's skyline using a ridiculously large laser cannon he'd converted from a derelict observatory which was powered by, of all things, volatile zinothium ore.

 

However, I hadn't come here to act as security, the police were more than capable of handling that function. At the medical school I'd have access to someone with at least some level of expertise as a physician who could evaluate my condition. If that person happened to be Professor Chang, better still. In this world there is nothing more reliable than a man whose loyalty can be bought for hard cash. Robin knew that when he went to Chang for the zinothium to power his Red X suit. Not a soul knew of his suits controversial power source until Robin himself revealed it.

 

It was spring, either late April or early May, the time of year when everything seems to come alive with vivid color and vitality. In spring the grass always seems somehow greener than it had been earlier, the sky a more lovely shade of blue. The natural world again comes alive after the long winter of dormancy. The flowers bloom in all shapes and colors, the birds sing their sweet songs from their perches in the trees. The changing of the seasons reflects the cycle of death and birth from spring to summer to autumn to winter and back again.

 

However, I could appreciate none of this as I made my way across campus. I stuck close to the shadows of the tall brick faculty buildings whenever possible and held my hood down over my head as heavily as I could. I kept my head hung low so I didn't have to look up. Whenever I would enter a patch of sunlight along the brick pathways that crisscrossed the campus the amount of sunlight reflected from the surface would sting my eyes ever so sharply. Yet I endured it. It was a minor annoyance especially when compared to the full force of the sun when I beheld it.

 

The lecture hall that Professor Chang was to make his performance at was actually, as I found it, more of a large auditorium. On the far end of the university's campus it was a large circular building designed for mass gatherings. It's interior was divided into two main areas: an outer ring which held a lobby of sorts and administrative areas and a large inner circle housing the auditorium itself. After I'd passed through the police security checkpoints at the entrance (apparently with my identity going unnoticed) I was at last within the darkened auditorium itself. As I took a seat in one of the rows farthest away from the stage I found I could finally relax, at last free from the sun's painful rays. It seemed I was now in my element.

 

It may have been due to the fact that most of the audience was crowded into the grouping of seats directly in front of the professor, but tf I needed any proof that the faculty had had good reason to seek out Professor Chang's services then I found here. The auditorium was literally packed with students some taking detailed notes while others merely sat and watched the unusual spectacle of having a convicted felon give a lecture. Ten rows of seats surrounded and lead back from the circular platform of the stage, the place where the man himself stood and spoke into a microphone at a makeshift podium while a powerpoint presentation was projected onto a screen behind him.

 

Chang was a thin, snaggletoothed old man in a large loose fitting white suit tangled in a mesh of wires and tubes all apparently plugged into a large metal backpack. The suit stretched up the back of his neck forming a sort of cap which held one device up to his eyes as well as two smaller ones attached to both of his ears. A single control box on his chest gave order to the complex system that apparently was the only thing keeping him out of a hospital bed for the rest of his life.

 

The projection screen displayed image after image of subjects ranging from the assemblage of cybernetic limbs right up to the surgery involved in grafting cybernetics onto a human body, and Professor Chang seemed to have something to say about every one. He spoke articulately and apparently completely from memory never once glancing down at notes or looking to the bullets listed on the slides.

 

“The successful application of cybernetics in the medical field was and has always been dependent upon one singular advancement,” he spoke in perfect English with only the faintest hint of an accent. “That achievement was the successful conversion of signals transmitted from the brain into impulses that could be read and understood by machines. In effect the revolutionary development of machines that one could control through thought alone.

 

“This allowed for the creation of prosthetic limbs that were the closest thing to actual replacement limbs than any devices that had come before. This is quite possibly the single greatest advancement for the handicapped in history. Say, for example, that some unfortunate individual is in a car accident and his legs are mangled in the process. Before he'd have been stricken to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Today we can give him a new pair of legs and he can walk around just as he had before.

 

“Arguably the most famous case involving the use of cybernetics would be the one of Victor Stone, better known today as Cyborg,” as he spoke a before-and-after slide came up with one image of the young promising athlete Victor Stone juxtaposed with an image of Cyborg of the Teen Titans. “A tragic accident at the S.T.A.R. Labs in Metropolis necessitated the operation. It was the first and most extreme application of cybernetics, however it proved, nonetheless, to be a resounding success. If it hadn't been for cybernetics Victor Stone would not be with us today. Thankfully as of this moment he is the only person in the entire world who has a mostly prosthetic body.”

 

“Um, excuse me Professor,” one of the students in the audience spoke up.

 

“Yes, what is it.”

 

“Isn't that an inaccurate statement? Didn't Brother Blood undergo a similar procedure?”

 

Ah yes, Brother Blood. That was a name I would not soon forget. Unlike Slade who was clearly driven by his own overblown ambition, Blood was insanely obsessed with having a loyal student body for his H.I.V.E. Academy (of which he was the headmaster), no matter what the costs. His impressive mind control abilities allowed him to realize this dream for a time. Cyborg was working undercover within the H.I.V.E at the time. His defiance of Blood's will left an indelible mark on him. Perhaps it made him uncertain of his ability to control his students. The only method Brother Blood could see to rectify this chink in his armor was self-mutilation. He willfully had himself turned into a cyborg and would have done the same to his students if it hadn't been for his final defeat at Steel City.

 

In any event, Professor Chang hung his head low for the first time during his speech. Although he denied it, he clearly had wanted to avoid this subject. “Yes, Brother Blood did undergo a similar procedure. I am keeping Brother Blood's case separate from Victor Stone's for this discussion simply because the reasons for their respective operations are as different as night and day.”

 

“Didn't you yourself conduct Brother Blood's surgery, Professor Chang?”

 

“Yes….I did. But I was under the influence of that madman's mind control abilities. I had no control over my actions whatsoever. What happened to Brother Blood was something he'd done to himself, I was merely a means to that end, nothing more. That man is exactly the kind of publicity that cybernetics does not need.”

 

“Excuse me, Professor Chang,” this time a feminine voice spoke up from the audience.

 

“Yes, miss,” Chang responded wearily.

 

“What do you say to critics who view the case of Brother Blood and others as a sign of the inherent dangers of the use of cybernetics, that this technology could be used to make criminals more dangerous.”

 

Professor Chang apparently had been waiting for this question for his confidence, which had been shattered by the talk of Brother Blood, came rushing back. “Well, when I think about it in those terms I can't help but compare it to plastic surgery. Now, I know that the two are nowhere near being on the same level as far as their applications are concerned, but there is a similarity.

 

“Plastic surgery can be used to great effect in helping people who have serious disfigurement and correcting the problem. It can make a person's standard of living infinitely better, similar to cybernetics in some respects. However there will always be people who will misuse this gift to their own ends. People with mental disorders or simply people who don't need this type of surgery at all can and will seek it out. But, both are cases in which the benefits greatly outweigh the risks.”

 

“Well that is all well and good but wouldn't you agree that the concern is valid that cybernetics could be very dangerous in the wrong hands?”

 

“Yes I would. It is for this very reason that a safety feature has been created for use in cases in which a person has a complete prosthetic body. It is a sort of `Achilles heel' if you will. It is called the cybernetic nexus, a sort of bridge from which all nerve messages from the brain are transmitted to all parts of the body. If it can be deactivated by a law enforcement official then the person will be completely immobilized.”

 

“Question!” a male voice spoke up, “does Cyborg have one of these nexuses?”

 

Professor Chang smiled somewhat at the question (something that did bother me), “no, Victor Stone is a first generation cyborg, the nexus was instated only after the second generation was introduced.”

 

With the brief question and answer interruption over, Chang continued with his presentation culminating in a complete video of a person being grafted with cybernetic limbs. The film was largely concerned with the work being done on the person's leg, showing how all the nerves had to be connected to the machinery. As some people actually felt a need to leave the room in disgust from the image of a person's central nervous system being tied directly into a mechanical arm with copious amounts of blood and gore visible, I felt nothing. I never viewed myself as being squeamish by any stretch of the imagination, but I expected that I would feel some revulsion at the image. By all rights I should have felt something, however minor a feeling it would have been.

 

I wondered how I would feel if I were actually present at such an operation. Would the smell of blood make my mouth water? Would my hunger completely override any and all inhibitions I may have? My God, what would I do? I did not dwell on such thoughts for long as I again brought the hood of my sweatshirt down over my face and turned away from the grisly image being projected before me.