Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Final Dance of the Fallen Dove ❯ Awake ( Chapter 3 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Wait another minute.
Can't you see what this pain has fucking done to me.
I'm alive and still kickin'.
What you see I can't see and maybe
you'll think before you speak.

*I'm alive for you.
I'm awake because of you.
I'm alive I told you.
I'm awake swallowing you

Take another second.
Turn your back on me and make believe that
you're always happy.
It's safe to say you're never alive.
A big part of you has died
and by the way, I hope you're satisfied.

I'm alive for you.
I'm awake because of you.
I'm alive I told you.
I'm awake

**Tearing it back unveiling me.
Taking a step back so I can breathe.
Hear the silence about to break.
Fear resistance when I'm awake.

**Repeat

*Repeat

*Repeat

R 20;Awake” - Godsmack

Pain. Sharp and crushing pain. It was persistent, refusing to be transitory as it should have been, instead remaining constant and unrelenting. Starfire could not continue sleeping through it, and thus she opened her eyes to the single most frightening sight she had ever seen in her life. It was Raven, perched over her form, but at the same time, it was not. She knew this, because it was not her dove’s gentle, violet eyes that she stared up into then, but four malice-filled slits that glowed with an unearthly light. It was Anbu.

Besides, even if she had not been able to see the monster’s eyes, the fact that she was being viciously throttled by the creature usurping Raven’s body was a dead give away. Star wanted to say something or scream but she found that she couldn’t at all, so powerful was the grip of those small, soft hands wrapped tightly around her neck. That very grip was also killing her, very slowly and very painfully, and reminding her disturbingly of the moments just after Raven awoke from her deadly nightmares, when a similar situation had occurred. Except that this time she didn’t expect to survive.

Weakly, the Tamaranian brought an arm up to try and claw at the face of her attacker, but could not bring herself to hurt it, to hurt the body of her lover, even as its hands were strangling her to death. But that didn’t truly matter, as there was no strength left in that arm, her brain already starving of resources. Starfire’s eyelids drooped, the darkness slipping in at the edges of her vision, and she dully recognized that the monster’s stolen visage, the face of a dark angel, had split with a smile of fiendish glee at her feeble attempts to resist. That expression frightened the young woman to the very core of her being, to the point where all rational thought fled from her mind in abject terror.

Star tried again to scream, for both the fear thundering in her chest and for the sudden tightening of Anbu’s grip around her neck, the demon usurper’s fingernails actually cutting into the alien girl’s skin and drawing forth blood. But still she could not, no sound could pass through Starfire’s virtually crushed throat, and even then, she could barely manage to see past the dark haze that was falling over her vision, her brain finally shutting down. And as she slipped from the world of conscious perception, Star managed to hear if not fully understand, the words Anbu spoke then.

“. . . only the beginning . . . dear . . . only . . . beginning . . .” Then she was lost in a sea of blackness, mind far beyond the reach of any material power.

Very slowly, as if dredging her way up through an ocean of thick, pitch black tar, Starfire awoke from her deep slumber. Blearily, she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling, her mind an empty expanse of substance-less thoughts. She shifted slightly to look at Raven then, for a reason her conscious mind couldn’t quite comprehend at that particular moment, but gained more than she bargained for in doing so. Namely a screech of pain not unlike a hundred fingernails scraping across a chalkboard, which rolled through her whole being in an instant, knocking the alien girl from her precarious position on the edge of the bed.

And as she struck the floor beside the bed, hands going to clutch at her neck, the source of the pain, everything came back to Starfire in a terrible rush. She tried to scream, but almost in some cruel parody of the previous night she could not, her vocal cords too abused to produce anything more than a hoarse croak. The fear built in the Tamaranian, unable to express the emotion and relieve the cloying, suffocating pressure it was exerting on her being, and she couldn’t think of any other way to do so. In desperation, she scrambled to the closet and the mirror she had convinced Raven to hang in it, hoping to prove that it had been nothing but a terrible dream.

Star knew that she was grasping at straws, though, knew exactly what she would and did find when she threw open the door to Raven’s closet, livid red imprints of thin hands around her throat, complete with barely scabbed-over puncture wounds at the tips of the finger marks. She wanted to scream even more but obviously could not, and she wanted to cry as terrible, conflicting thoughts tore though her psyche, but was also blocked from doing so as Raven stirred in the bed. With only an instant to consider the situation, Starfire snatched up Raven’s cloak from where it had fallen after being discarded the night before, and tossed it about her shoulders. She managed to get the clasp locked just as Raven rolled over to face Star, eyes squinted against the bright, morning light that filled the room.

“Star . . . what are you doing up?” The dark magus blinked several times, and then rubbed at her eyes to try and clear her vision. “And why . . . are you wearing my cloak?” She asked, her confusion heightening her awareness and bringing her to full wakefulness in moments.

The Tamaranian smiled nervously, falsely, and attempted to speak in her normal voice, but choked that back when she realized that it would not work. Instead, she let it slip from her as a hoarse whisper.

“I am sorry, Raven, but I was cold and did not wish to wake you.” Raven looked at Star for a time and nodded.

“I was probably hogging all of the blankets.” Following her agreement, the dark magus let her eyes fall to the empty side of the bed between herself and the alien, indeed bereft of blankets. “Sorry.” Starfire shook her head, honest relief in the expression, though it was for the fact that Raven had bought the ruse. “What about your voice, though?” Raven asked suddenly, seizing up Star’s whole body once again.

“I- . . . I think I am ailing.” The girl nervously answered, scrambling to maintain the illusion. “I . . . have not been feeling well since we returned from Tamaran.”

“Maybe you caught something while you were there?” The dark magus suggested as she slipped out of bed, concern in her violet eyes.

She came toward Starfire with the intention of feeling the alien girl’s forehead, to get an idea of her current body temperature, and her approach once again froze any answer in the poor Tamaranian’s throat. She held perfectly still as Raven laid a hand on her brow, body paralyzed by an almost instinctive terror.

“You don’t feel any different than usual.” The violet-haired mage commented after taking her hand away, and her mounting worry showed through her eyes.

Something was wrong, but she couldn’t seem to figure out what it was. Given Raven’s moment of contemplation, Starfire just barely managed to compose herself.
“It is . . . probably the Deserenian snurdles, my people’s equivalent to the human ‘sore throat’.” She offered in her bare whisper of a voice, and Raven nodded, accepting the explanation.

“Is there anything I can do to help, then?” Starfire marshaled all the hidden reserves of strength she had within herself and managed to smile warmly at her lover.

“Hot breakfast tea would be a glorious start.” Raven returned the smile, relief washing over her like a mercifully cool wave of water on a blazing hot day.

“Alright, I’ll go make some.” Before leaving, the dark magus gently embraced Star and kissed her, a gesture of affection generated by her relief that everything might actually be all right. “I love you, Starfire.”

“I love you too, Raven . . .” The affirmation of sentiment complete, Raven turned and left the room, already considering what blend of tea would best soothe her Tamaranian lover’s troubled throat.

And, the moment that the door slid closed behind her, Starfire collapsed to her knees, torn by wrenching sobs that arose from deep within herself. She didn’t want to blame Raven for what had happened, didn’t want to hate her for the things Anbu had done. But it was so hard, so very hard, because the Tamaranian knew with a terrible and undeniable clarity that it wasn’t over yet. She knew that Anbu was only just getting started.

Raven was surprised to find the main room of the tower empty, the view screen not dominated by the flashing lights and massive explosions of Cyborg and Beast Boy’s games, the stereo system not blaring out unspeakable cacophonies of noise that dared to call themselves music, and the kitchen not in disarray as it was ravaged by another fight between Beast Boy and Cyborg over the content of that morning’s breakfast. Which was just fine with her, as she much preferred getting the tea made and returning to Starfire with all the speed possible to the chance of getting sidetracked by the antics of the animal and mechanical pranksters. Naturally, though, this was not to be so, as Raven saw when Beast Boy fairly appeared before her out of thin air. A scowl crossing her features, the dark magus tried to push past the green nuisance and get by the obstruction without any wasted effort.

But he only followed her as she slipped into the kitchen, a big, toothy grin spread wide across his face. Raven tried to ignore him, tried to focus on getting out the tins with the appropriate tea leaves for her planned brew, but she knew even before the battle began that it would be a losing one for her. Finally, about the time that Raven was getting out the actual teapot, she could take it no longer.

“What is it, Beast Boy?” She growled out through clenched teeth, somehow managing to bite off the ends of her words despite that.

Without even opening his eyes or losing that grin, Beast Boy started right in.

“What would you call an aquarium in your love nest, Raven?” And then he waited again, waited for Raven to give some kind of an answer and participate further in the joke, ensuring that whether she liked it or not she’d hear the punch line.

Stubbornly, she tried to ignore him again, turning her back on him and taking the now steaming kettle off of the burner so she could warm and then fill the teapot after adding the leaves. But, once she had finished that last task, Raven found herself with nothing left to occupy her interest. Thus she gave in.

“What, Beast Boy, what would I call an aquarium in Starfire and my room?” She asked, finding that dancing to Beast Boy’s little tune was leaving a rather foul taste in her mouth, along with a spark in the powder keg of her temper.

With grace rivaling that of the finest world-class acrobat, Beast Boy flipped up to land on the counter before Raven in a crouch, eyes wide with unsounded laughter.

“Potpourri!” The shape-changing youth nearly fell flat on his back atop that counter as peals of hysterical laughter ripped forth from his small form at the punch line, and it was for this reason that he missed the dangerous way that Raven was trembling.

As the hilarity began to subside within him, Beast Boy did at least notice that Raven wasn’t laughing.

“Wh-what’sa matter, Raven, can’t take a joke?” The very moment that the last word left his mouth, Beast Boy found his head smashed back and to the side, while his whole body went flying across the room.

He hadn’t even really felt the initial blow that had put him in the air, the attack striking with such incredible speed and power, but he most certainly did feel it when his body smashed against the wall on the far side of the room with vicious force. Back behind the counter, Raven stared in horror at her outstretched arm, the back of her hand still surrounded by small, flame-like manifestations of her dark power. She couldn’t comprehend what had possessed her to react so violently to a stupid little joke, offensive in nature or not.

“Dude!” Beast Boy yelled as he stumbled to his feet, clutching at his now throbbing face.

Raven’s response was quite a simple one as she took one look at the hurt and anger in Beast Boy’s eyes, amounting to nothing more than turning tail and running. She had to get back to Starfire, needed to see the Tamaranian desperately, and so she ran as fast as she could.

Outside of the training room, Starfire stood and agonized over her options. Inside Robin was practicing one of his many kata, working with a number of the training pieces as he did so, and did not appear to have noticed the alien girl’s presence just outside the doorway to the room. She still wore Raven’s cloak, having considered and dismissed the idea of switching over to her scarf already, realizing that everyone would immediately realize she was trying to hide something on her neck if she did so. With Raven’s cloak she could simply claim that she wore it for one of any number of sentimental reasons and get away with it. A wave of virtual nausea rolled through Starfire’s body, and she nearly doubled over trying to suppress it.

She was sick with herself, sick with her lying to not just her lover, now, but her friends as well. It didn’t matter what reason she’d done it for, she’d still lied through her teeth to Raven before, and she hated herself for it. Now though, Starfire was faced with a far more difficult choice, not just whether or not to lie, but whether to warn the Titans of the danger that would soon befall them, might have already fallen even then, or not. She wanted to, she didn’t want to see any of her friends hurt, but cruelly that couldn’t be her only consideration. Starfire wasn’t so naive as to think that, if she told the other Titans what was happening, everything would be peachy and no one would be hurt, she knew that the Titans “protecting” themselves meant fighting Anbu. And since Anbu was controlling Raven’s body, the one actually getting hurt would instead be the dark magus, not the demon.

An avoidance-avoidance conflict in its purest form: if Starfire didn’t tell Robin then Raven would remain unhurt but the others would not, and if she did then the Titans would be unharmed but Raven would not. Mutually exclusive goals that were tearing the poor alien girl apart inside. Worse, even putting aside her love of Raven, Starfire could not consider the “greater good for the largest number of people” in this scenario. Because as much as it pained her to admit it, Starfire was afraid of what Robin might do, how far he might go, in order to stop Anbu knowing that she had been hurt by her, nearly killed even. The crimson-haired girl wanted to scream out loud, to rage against the injustice of it all, and her fists clenched into a white-knuckled grip as she just barely restrained that urge.

It wasn’t fair that she had to make decisions like that, to choose between the lives of her friends and her lover, wasn’t fair that she was being put in such a position. Most of all, it wasn’t right that she was beginning to hate Raven for doing all those things to her.

“Starfire, is something wrong?” The Tamaranian nearly jumped out of her skin as she was broken from her dark contemplation by Robin’s question, the boy wonder now standing right before her in the doorway.

On impulse, Star nearly blurted out the entire sordid affair and all its details right then and there, but was halted once again by the vocal limitations of her injured throat. Ashamed of her lack of control, Starfire silently berated herself as she rode out the coughing fit that ensued following the botched confession, Robin laying hands on the alien to steady her.

“Are you okay, Star?!” Once it subsided, Starfire lifted her head and looked up into Robin’s mask covered eyes, her face haggard as she did little to hide the strain that the unfolding events were exerting on her.
“I am just feeling a little ill, I apologize for troubling you, Robin.” At her answer, Robin could do little more than stare in confusion for a time before he composed himself.

“It’s no problem, Star.” He assured, gently helping the girl to stand back up straight. “Why are you here, though?” For a long moment, Starfire simply stared at Robin, green eyes a blank, unreadable void.

Finally, she answered.

“I had a question that I wished to ask you, but I appear to have forgotten what it was about.” She bowed her head slightly, happy to let her gaze sink to the floor as she lied. “I apologize again.” His expression troubled, Robin shook his head.

“It’s fine, Starfire, but are you sure you’re alright?” He tried to lay a hand comfortingly on the Tamaranian’s shoulder, but she ghosted back from the movement, just avoiding the touch.

“No, I am not feeling well, so I think I will go lay down.” She turned her back on him then, saying as she did so, “I will be in Raven’s room if I am needed.” No more words were spoken as she walked down the hall and out of sight, leaving Robin alone with his worry and quickly growing suspicion.

A few adjustments on the console and everything was ready. Dusting his hands off in a purely habitual gesture, Cyborg hopped off of the control platform for the beach’s obstacle course and took his place at the starting line. Today, he was determined to beat his old record, even if it killed him. A few seconds ticked by in tense silence before the timer was finally up and the start siren blared, the sound setting Cyborg off like a shot. He navigated the course with a sort of brutal grace, tackling each obstacle that presented itself flawlessly, and with his own forceful style.

Saw arms were smashed before they could even get their blades up to full spin, disk launchers blasted before they had fired just three discs, and the cybernetic-teen hero was generally leaping through the air before the pit traps opened up, bypassing them completely. It was virtual perfection as the young warrior raced across the land that composed the course, simply avoiding every obstacle at that point in the name of finishing the course even faster. That is, until one of the saw arms just ahead of his position stretched out far faster than usual, presenting a deadly obstruction to the charging Cyborg’s progress.

Surprised, all he could manage to do was throw his arms up before his face and continue on, smashing into the mechanical arm with enough force to tear its joint right out of the socket and shatter its whirling blade. The problem was that doing so also shattered the techno hero’s momentum, causing him to tumble to the ground in a heap while several saw blades and disk launchers all converged on his position at once.

“Dammit.” That one profanity was all Cyborg could manage to say before everything came together around him in an explosion of sound and flame, a cacophony of agonizing shrieks and screeches coupled with a blazing inferno that swirled about the area like a living, hungry thing.

When it was all over, nothing but a pile of blackened robotic arms remained, up until the point when the cyborg burst from the core of the mound.

“Man, that hurt!” The youth shouted indignantly, swiping at some of the soot that covered his face.

After expending much of his anger in that initial shout, though, Cyborg began to look around at the whole of the course with an appraising eye. Finally, he shook his head and sighed.

“My own fault for being such a damn fool, counting on the course being the exact same every time to win.” After a brief glance to the pile of scrap metal beneath his feet, the metallic warrior shook his head once again, not happy with the mess. “I’ll clean this up after I take a shower.” That said, he headed off toward the entrance to the tower at its base, the odd incident quickly fading from memory.

High above, at his vantage point beside one of the many windows set in the tower, Robin watched Cyborg leaving the course. Unlike the cybernetically-enhanced youth, he would remember the mishap for some time to come, having seen the whole thing from start to finish. More importantly, though, Robin had also seen the shadow of darkness that had surrounded the join of that one particular saw arm just before it extended. As he continued to stare out at the beach, the boy wonder dearly hoped that he was mistaken, that it had just been the sun playing tricks on his eyes. But the metal bo-staff clutched at his side showed that he was expecting the worst.

Anbu was back, he feared, and no longer confined to just hurting Raven.