Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Heroes ❯ Epiphany ( Chapter 12 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Blowfish: I have real updating problems, don't I? Geez, I got really caught up in Spring Break, Easter, my birthday (which WHOOPED ASS), and chapter seven of TAoTT (you know you wanna read it). Nuts, I tell ya! I got loads of reviews. I friggin' love you guys.

TtitansFan: Hmm, maybe I'll rent PotO. It sounds cool. Dick will definitely be in this chapter and it actually centers on Star. So I hope you like it!

secondchild02: Nightwing's DEFINITELY in this chap, lots and lots. And the actual function of Project Cyborg will be divulged…soon enough. It becomes VERY relevant to the plot, that's all I'm willing to say.

K9: Ha, I remember that. One could call Terry and Karen a “dynamic duo”, yes. Glad you liked the Archive thing. I refuse to believe that all these super-villains are running around and no one is keeping tabs on superheroes. And actually, what happened last chapter will be touched on a lot in this chapter. You'll see.

Juzblue: Thanks, I'm glad you like it.

The Last: Carl is a little odd, eh? Well, he was sort of supposed to be. I figured I should expand on his personality a bit. I'm sort of phasing him in as a secondary character.

TTJLFan: I had a good bit of time off from school on account of snow a while ago, too. It was awesome. n_n Glad you liked the Terry and Karen action.

Born To Make Chaos: Thanks for reviewing. If I was a vegetarian, I wouldn't eat at Mickey D's either, but what can I say.

scathac's warrior: Jason Mraz is the man, plain and simple. You should introduce me to Elsa!

Light of Sorrow: Like the name change. I was actually sick for a while before updating last, so I know how you feel. Heh, Boss is going to get MUCH scarier as this story progresses.

MizMissa: Glad you're enjoying it. Unfortunately, plot development on the Rae/Gar situation won't be the focus of this chapter—lots more later, though. COOKIE! YAY! C is for cookie…

Rachel: Wow, when you said now, I really hope you meant over a month later. n_n; I hope you aren't too mad…

Magpie's Lament: Thanks!

Gecko Osco: Again: Jason. Mraz. Is. The. MAN! Glad you liked Star, `cause she's gonna be big in this chapter. O_o; Wow, I bet I killed all you guys. Faithful readers…where would us authors be without you?

lil' LIK Star: Thanks a lot!

AzhureTigress: O_O Wow. No one appreciates MASSIVE reviews like I do! Though I must say, you scared me a bit when you cracked your knuckles… Students? What do you teach? (I'm curious, my cousin's a teacher as well. They're so underappreciated—and underpaid.) As for your first observation, you have an excellent point. I guess the real reason I did it was to drag it out into something that's going to happen in this chapter…sort of. It's complicated. Still, you're right. Not one of my better ideas. I'm going to have to start a new paragraph so I don't hurt my eyes…

I'm glad you like my OCs. Truthfully, I normally am not too keen on making or reading OCs, but I am really proud of Terry and Karen. They were really supposed to be extras when I decided to create them (unlike Sarah, whose purpose was clear and set from the start—though not her personality), but they ended up as secondary characters! Funny how the creative process works, eh? Yeah, their profession had a lot to do with why they're so darn nosy. I'm glad you think it was a needed chapter. I guess I considered it a filler chapter because there weren't fountains of plot development, but I guess that isn't always completely necessary.

I'm actually glad you brought up Starfire again. It's really a big point of the plot that needs to be addressed. All of the flaws in her characterization are completely and utterly correct—but they serve a specific purpose, which will be explored VERY deeply in this chapter. Indeed, there IS something wrong with Star. However, the reason her innocence is somewhat lacking is because she's not so naïve anymore. She's in her twenties, she's gone through more and is a little more…mature, I suppose the word would be.

Ah, I was half-expecting someone to comment on this. I do not mean “physical ineptitude” in that Raven cannot hold her own in battle (I REALLY should've phrased it a bit more carefully…), but that if she were to fight someone like Nightwing, for instance, hand to hand, no powers, no gadgets, she would get her ass kicked. I really mean that she isn't very physically strong (neither is Beast Boy, really, excluding all of his animal forms—he probably can't bench-press like Robin can). Sorry if that was unclear.

Surgery? Wow, that sucks. Can't say I've had surgery, but I've known some people that have, and they've told me it's a hard recovery. Though by the time you read this, you'll probably be as good as new. The Appalachian Trail? My dad and brother have always wanted to do that, and I've heard it's pretty cool. Hope you have a good time (though you're gone by now, aren't you?).

If you'll be my bodyguard, I can be your long lost pal! I can call you Betty, and Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al!

Sorry for the random Paul Simon reference. My brother's girlfriend (COOLEST. PERSON. EVER.) sent me a mix CD with “You Can Call Me Al” included in it.

RobinluvsStar: Don't worry, Star has arrived!

Starfire Fans: All hail Starfire…all hail Starfire…

Brother Blood: HEY! That's copyrighted!

Yes, I've been reading the comics. Why do you ask?

ElvenRanger: Glad you think I'm characterizing them okay—I worry about that sometimes. It's cool you like Terry. He's a whacky, whacky, guy.

The Gemini Sage: Yep, Terry and Karen are going to get into some deep trouble with Rae…and other people. ;) You'll find out. Poor Terry, always the subject of Karen's scorn… S'cool, I know—I have Starfox Adventures (which I really should get back to—I get so distracted from videogames, ya know?). Chimpy? Why…Chimpy is the little part of my personality (I think we all have this) that just sort of snickers constantly at things that are either inappropriate or kind of unfunny. My sarcasm…my wit… (nods solemnly) I named her Chimpy because chimps are fun. And they like bananas, like me!

Chimpy: …You're whacked. You do know that, right?

That I do…that I do…

Miss Poisonous: Yeah, Star's playing referee. And Boss is really cooking up something good for our resident heroes, oh yes he is. That's actually an excellent question: Arella was the name given to Angela Roth by the people of Azarath when she arrived there pregnant with Raven. I think it's Gaelic or something, but it means “angel messenger”. Ironic, no? Kyle has no luck with the ladies, lol. And we'll find out exactly what Raven's empathy was picking up on, don't worry. I'm not sure if she has empathy in the show. I guess that part in “Titan Rising” when she bumps Terra and has that “vision” thing is the closest she ever got, really. But she does in the comics, and I think it's an interesting component of her personality and powers.

eMOTIV: OK.

Grumbumble: Wow, I'm glad I'm doing well with the plot. The Terry and Karen subplot will grow a lot in this chapter, very quickly.

Ember: Guess I'm not getting the golden banana…I know I've heard that SOMEWHERE, but…damn short-term memory. Why must I be the proverbial “Dory”?! WHY?! You're gonna like this chapter if you're a RobStar fan. I guarantee it. I'm glad you think so, but this does not scratch the surface of that title. Hell, it doesn't even scuff it. Go into my favorites section, you'll find some real quality stuff in there.

rixietrixie91: Glad you're enjoying it thus far. Oh my. That is DEFINITELY a good newbie question—took me a while to figure that one out, and it didn't necessarily end well. If a fic is labeled as a “lemon”, it contains mature, sexual content of some sort. I normally steer clear of these, but if you're lucky, you may find some of the few tastefully-written ones.

Ace Grey Manx: …Did you like?

raexrob: Sorry, I really did take a long time, didn't I? T-T

A Pleasant Reader: Yep, Rae-Rae is in it deep. I guess the song was inconsistent, but I put it in there for a joke—and I was actually listening to that song at the time. Ooooh…I'm getting pelted with cheeseballs, aren't I?

AlwaysWrite: I find it hard to believe that guys like Slade and Brother Blood and Boss WOULDN'T keep some sort of tabs on superheroes. Seems like it would be an essential. Don't forget though, Nightwing was discovered—and I didn't necessarily say if it was before or after Raven. Yes, I enjoy with all my readers. It's such fun. Yes, sticking one's nose in a friend's business is not exactly a great thing to do. Don't worry, we all ramble. Hell, I ramble on a daily basis. And yes, Raven can and will not be taken off of Teen Titans. It cannot be done. I mean, let's look at the comics (I got volumes 1 and 2 of the current series—volume two is the “Raven Rising” arc—for my birthday, so expect me to go on about them a bit) the show is based off: She basically dies killing Trigon, and then resurrects (all evil and badass, mind you) and tries to kill her Starfire (who is unwittingly possessed by Raven's “good” soul). She sort of dies. THEN, in the current series, the new Brother Blood brings her back to life. THE GIRL DOES NOT DIE. IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO KILL HER.

Raven Fans: Raven is invincible!

Besides, as you said, without her, the show would suck.

Cherri munkey: Glad I could be of service.

zachriasofBorg: I've actually never watched Stargate SG-1. But I have a friend who's a big fan.

Ian: WHY DOESN'T ANYBODY ELSE I KNOW WATCH IT?!

I will, however, keep up the good work.

Hanita-chan: Thanks, I will!

PLAySw/Fire: Don't worry, BBRae is on the horizon. Ooh. Me likey teh long reviews (and teh bad grammar, if you couldn't tell). Ah. (eye twitch) Okay then, updating.

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans. If I did, I would be saying “WHERE THE HELL ARE THE NEW EPISODES?!” Oh wait, I AM saying that. I also don't own any of the songs that appear in this chapter. They are owned by Bad Religion (“21st Century Digital Boy”), Simon and Garfunkel (“The Only Living Boy in New York”), and The Runaways (“Cherry Bomb”).

“talking” `thinking' Tamaranian/flashback radio (bold italics) answering machine/ring/text message (bold)

Blowfish: Whew…THAT took a while. Now, on to what you've been asking for and waiting for…what's the deal with Star? When, if at all, will Terry and Karen figure out that Rae is Raven? And what will they do with their new knowledge? Why do you care?

Chimpy: Not so much that last one.

Blowfish: Now, on to chapter 12! That's a dozen chapters now!

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Dick rolled over and slammed his alarm, grumbling. He rubbed his heavy eyelids and sat up. He looked to the other side of the bed, expecting to see his fiancée there, but was disappointed. He scratched his head, wondering if she had possibly gone out for some reason. That was when he heard the sound of someone coughing, followed by a more vulgar sound and a toilet being flushed. He ran to the bathroom, where Star sat on the floor leaned up against the toilet. She looked absolutely miserable.

“Not feeling well?” he asked gently, sitting down beside her.

“Not particularly,” she snarled. Dick was a bit taken aback by her tone.

“Sorry.”

“I'm sorry,” she muttered. “I've just…been feeling a bit under the weather these past few days.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“Because you would get that—oh, now see?”

“What?”

“You've got that look now.”

“What look?”

“That worried look. I hate it when you get that look.”

“Well, if I wake up to find the woman I love paying respects to the porcelain god, I tend to get a bit worried, yeah.”

“I'll be fine. I was just getting up. I'm going to make some ponknaf.”

“Umm…I'm assuming that's good?”

“It's an herbal remedy from my home planet…think of it as the cough medicine of Tamaran.”

“You sure you really wanna eat anything?”

Star shakily got to her feet. “It's actually a drink, and it'll no doubt make me feel a little better.”

“What do you think you have?”

“I suppose I could have the yarkma—just the Tamaranian equivalent of the human stomach flu. But…”

“But what?”

“I have been getting…headaches. Only not headaches. Like there's some sort of…pressure behind my eyes. And my wrist joints ache. These are not typical symptoms of yarkma.”

“But throwing up is, right?”

“Yes. I've been experiencing…lurches of my stomach while walking.”

”Well then, you should put your feet up today. I'll call work and—“

“You should go to work.”

Dick was exasperated. “Come on, Star. You aren't in good shape, I should—“

“Go. To. Work. Before I make you.”

“You don't even know what you're sick from!”

“Richard, what would you suggest? A physician?”

He sighed. He knew doctors were out of the question, and Star calling him Richard was usually a sign of her patience beginning to thin. “Just take it easy, okay?”

“I will.”

Dick got dressed, kissed Star on the cheek, and left. Star went into the kitchen and looked at the plants she had in the window. They were unlike anything most people have in their windowsill: Tamaranian house plants. Star took a few petals off of a loud brown and yellow flower and took out a pot to brew them in. After about 30 minutes, she added some sage and garlic, and let it simmer for another few minutes. Sage and garlic weren't traditional ingredients of ponknaf, but they were close enough.

Star poured some of the hot liquid in a cup. “Just call me Iron Chef,” she chuckled. She pinched her nose with her thumb and forefinger and took a large gulp, gagging a bit. After a few more sips, she sat down on the couch, hoping that the morning news yielded some form of entertainment.

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Terry walked into his dormitory feeling less than great. He was almost sure he'd bombed his Philosophy test. Also, Karen had called him to say that she wouldn't be able to have lunch with him. This was just not his day.

Rae had met him in the park yesterday, and he resisted all the temptations of asking about her past. Star was right: It was none of his business. After all he had found out, the fact was, he was scared to ask her.

`Just leave it,' he thought. `There's nothing wrong, her schedule's just a little tight. That's why she's acting weird.'

But a small part of his mind—the journalistic part—was still nagging at him. `There's something she's not telling you. Not telling anyone.'

`There's nothing.'

`Yes there is. You know it. Karen knows it. Rae's doing something—`

`There's NOTHING. End of story. Forgetting about it as we speak—err, think. I mean… Damn, why am I talking to myself?' He stared at the photo of Rae on his bed, along with all the printouts of information he and Karen had compiled. `Forget about it. There's nothing.'

He tossed down his bag, and the photos he had taken two days ago came tumbling out. A picture of the blue-cloaked vigilante know as Raven landed on top of Rae's picture, next to the page with Rae's information on it. Terry glanced at it, and did a double-take. Raven's picture was lying right next to the line that said “Raven `Rae' Roth”. He picked up the photo of Raven and placed it in between the paper and the picture of Rae. He could've sworn he actually heard the soft clicking of the gears in his brain beginning to turn.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

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Star was sprawled on the couch, feeling like absolute hell. She was flipping channels on the TV without even looking at what was on. After the first four times of going through every channel, she knew there was nothing on. She finally leaned over and turned on the radio.

`Cause I'm a 21stcentury digital boy

I don't know how to live, but I've got a lot of toys

My daddy's a lazy middle class intellectual

My mommy's on valium, so ineffectual—

Star growled and turned the knob on the radio.

The only living boy in New York

I get the news I need on the weather report

Hey, I've got nothing to do today but smile

“How nice for you,” she grumbled, turning off the radio. She lay back down on the couch and closed her eyes. She could actually hear the blood pumping in her ears. After a few minutes of just lying there, Star began to doze a bit, and her mind drifted.

“Galfore!” a seven-year-old Koriand'r cried, running into her k'norfka's arms. “Komand'r played another trick on me!”

“There there, my little bumgorf,” he said, stroking her hair. “What did she do this time?”

“She set a portkin loose on me.”

“Ohhh…I shall inform your father—I am sure he will have some stern words for her.”

“Why does Komand'r hate me, Galfore?”

“She does not. You are just her little sister. Older siblings play tricks on their little brothers and sisters.”

“Really?”

“Of course! When I was but a small child like you, my older brother would employ his own trickery constantly. He was in a whole separate league than Komand'r, I assure you.”

Koriand'r looked up at her caretaker curiously. “You have an older brother?” Galfore sighed deeply.

“I did, yes.”

“What happened to him?”

“My brother—T'hamat was his name—was a great warrior.”

“Like you.”

“Better than me. He fought many battles, and was made a commodore.”

“Wow. What happened to him?” she asked again.

“Well, one day, in a great but terrible battle, his whole fleet was decimated.”

“Oh. So he died in the battle?”

“…No. He survived. He was one of only twenty. But he felt…guilty. And he saw many things, Koriand'r, so many things…”

“Things like what?”

“Things no one should ever see. And when he saw these things, he changed. He did not speak to me often. And one day…”

“One day, what?” she asked, bursting with suspense.

“You must understand, Koriand'r. This can happen to anyone who fights for a long time. They come to a point where they…they cannot function, they cannot take it anymore. They just want it to end.”

“How would they end it?” Galfore looked down at the innocent child in his arms, and heaved another sigh.

“One day, he was piloting his ship. He was not far from the city when he crashed his ship into the desert. The explosion killed him.”

Koriand'r was shocked. “He…meant to do this?”

“Yes.”

“But why?!” she burst out. “Why would anyone wish to end their life?”

“I am not sure, my little bumgorf. But I do know this: There is more than one way to end a life. My brother stopped living after he came back from that battle. He just wanted to do physically what he had done mentally.”

Starfire wondered suddenly why she was remembering this. But before she could really contemplate it any further, she found herself immersed in another memory.

Starfire glanced at Raven. Her friend was sitting slumped over the table silently. She had been that way since Beast Boy had left—save the night, when she had retired to her room. Cyborg sat on the couch, staring at the Gamestation plugged into their TV. Starfire prodded her glorg with her fork, knowing full well that she had no intention of eating it. She hadn't eaten much for a while, and it was really starting to show: Her golden skin had paled to a sickly orange color, and her eyes were a much deeper shade of green.

Cyborg continued to bore holes in the Gamestation with his gaze, tapping his foot and muttering under his breath. Starfire eyed him worriedly, wondering if she should talk to him, or if she should just get up and go back to trying to get Robin to come out of his room. She glanced back at Raven. No movement as of yet. Starfire was beginning to feel as if she would go insane if someone didn't say anything. But she couldn't say anything. Whatever she said, it always got the same response: Cyborg would either ignore her or say “not now”, and Raven would do absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, Cyborg stood up. Raven's eyes lazily drifted over to him, and Starfire stopped her relentless poking. Cyborg's muttering was growing louder now, and the girls could hear that it was mostly composed of obscenities and rambling. Raven looked at him and then threw a puzzled glance at Starfire. The alien shrugged.

In one swift, violent motion, Cyborg tore the Gamestation from the TV and hurled it across the room. It missed Starfire's face by two inches, and pieces of it flew out in different directions when it collided with the wall behind her.

Cyborg stood for a moment, panting. His shoulders slumped and his eyes widened, only then realizing what he had just done and could have done. He looked up at Starfire, who was sitting perfectly straight up, feet crossed daintily under the table, just as she had been sitting minutes ago. She hadn't even flinched.

Starfire knew that she should have probably felt angry, scared, or possibly sad at what had just happened. She knew that Cyborg may have been under stress, just like the rest of them, but that gave him no right to be violent. And she knew she should feel sympathetic, because she knew exactly how he felt: Frustrated and confused. But she didn't.

Starfire felt absolutely nothing at all.

Star rolled over on the couch and put her right arm over her eyes. She felt much sicker than before, now. She remembered that day so clearly now. After that day, it had become increasingly difficult to use her powers. Sometimes—often the most inopportune times—they would fail her completely. After Raven left, she found that she could no longer fly. And after she herself left, she never had the necessity to do so.

But necessity and desire are two entirely different things.

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Can't sat at home, can't stay at school

Old folks say, ya poor little fool

Down the street, I'm the girl next door

I'm the fox you've been waiting for!

Karen put another stack of papers in the shredder and turned up her CD player. She hated having to work at the paper today. She'd much rather be having lunch with Terry.

Hello Daddy, hello Mom

I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-

-CHERRY BOMB!

Hello world, I'm your wild girl

I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-

-CHERRY BOMB!

Karen jumped at the strange sensation across her waist. She recognized it immediately: Her cell phone. She turned off her CD player and flipped it open. The number was Terry's. She put her ear to it.

“Hey, Terry.”

“We are idiots.”

“What?”

“We. Are. Fucking. Idiots.”

She laughed. “Hey, I take the term `we' offensively. I know you're an idiot, but—“

“Rae is Raven.”

Karen stopped laughing abruptly. “Excuse me?”

“Rae. Is. Raven. Raven is Rae. Rae is the nut-ball vigilante that's been leaping around, getting herself into all sorts of sh—“

“Wait, what the hell are you going on about?”

“ARE YOU NOT HEARING ME? OUR FRIEND AND COMPANION, YOUR FELLOW JOURNALIST, SECRETLY GOES AROUND IN A LEOTARD AND CLOAK FIGHTING CRIME!”

“Terry! For Christ's sake, I'm at the paper!” She said, running for the elevator, dodging stares and questions from her fellow employees. She finally got into the elevator. “Okay, now we're good. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Rae is Raven! How the hell can I make this simpler? Should I draw you a pretty picture with crayons?!”

“Chill, Terry. How do you know this?”

“It's obvious. I can't believe we didn't see it! I skipped calculus to wrack my brain about this, and here's what I came up with: Rae took off every time we heard a police siren. Suspicious? I think so!”

“Coincidental? I think so!”

“Let me finish! Now…the stuff we found about her mother. If Rae is Raven—which she IS—she has super powers, right?”

Karen was getting more and weirded out by the second. “Right…”

“Well, Angela Roth was your average teen, right? Maybe she got pregnant with some…wizard or something, I don't know! Just someone with supernatural powers, ya know? It makes sense!”

“No it doesn't. It really, really doesn't.”

“Just look at her name! Rae is short for Raven! Raven the journalist, Raven the superhero! It's so obvious!”

“I bet in ten minutes I could find at least twenty Ravens in this city. Come on, who's that stupid?”

“Oh come on! Half of those Ravens would be guys anyway!”

“Okay, let's say you're not on crack, and Rae is Raven. It's been ten long, long years since the Titans split. What made her come back now? Why not five years ago, or ten more from now? I don't know about you, but if I were her, with a good job, friends, and a generally okay life going, I wouldn't say `Huh, ya know what? Screw this, I'm gonna go put on a weird costume, fight crime, and screw up my life.' I mean, what's got her started—if it's her at all?”

“It is her. I'm right, I know it.”

“Well then, the simple thing would be to talk to her.”

“You think she'd tell us? Come on, the woman's hiding everything from us—“

“We're not snooping again. Talk to her if you want to know so badly, but don't expect me to go with you. I think you're on some sort of hallucinogen, and I've got work to do.”

“But Karen—“

Karen pressed the button on her phone, closed it, and put it back in her pocket. This was insane. He was insane.

Wasn't he?

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Luuuucy, I'm home!

Star dashed over and picked up her phone. That particular “ring” meant that Dick was text messaging her. She opened her phone and read the message.

hi honey u need 2 come 2 WE right now

Star was confused. Why would he want her to come to work this late? Her fingers moved rapidly on the buttons.

why

She waited a few seconds, and another message popped up.

ive got a surprise for u

Now Star was intrigued. She messaged him back.

oh really

She waited a few more seconds.

yes my darling

She smiled and put in another message.

is it something romantic

The response popped up almost instantly.

oh yes darling its 2 die for

Star paused. Something wasn't right, she felt. But then again, Dick enjoyed messing with her. This was just her husband, right?

b there in 30

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Terry fumbled with his coins in the phone booth. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was all he had. Karen was the planner, he was the guy who sat there and watched. So he was lost when it came to plans. But it was a plan nonetheless. He pushed his coins in the slot and dialed the number. He waited.

Hi, you've reached Rae Roth. If you're selling something, I suggest you hang up. If not, then you know the drill.

`Good,' Terry thought. `I don't want her recognizing my voice; she won't take me seriously.' With that thought, Terry cleared his throat and began to speak in a deeper tone than usual.

“Hello, Raven. I just want to say, I know exactly who you are and what you've been doing. Come and meet me at Pier 21 at 6. That gives you…” He looked at his watch. “45 minutes. See you there.”

Terry hung up. It was a pretty lame plan with three possible outcomes. One: She dismissed the call as a prank or just unthreatening and stayed at home. Two: She would somehow figure out that it was him and call him to yell at him. Three, and the most unlikely: She would actually bite and come.

Terry sighed and stepped out of the phone booth. There were two men standing off to the side, one of them whispering in the other's ear and making rapid hand motions which Terry recognized as sign language. The man who was listening looked up at him.

“What the hell are you looking at?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Terry said quickly. “Sorry. I didn't mean to stare.” He took off down the street; he had about half an hour to get to the pier. The man he had talked to looked back to the man who had now switched over to pure sign language. He made a few signs himself, nodded at his companion, and stepped into the phone booth. He slipped a few coins into the slot and dialed a number.

“This is Marv.”

“Password?” a voice on the other end asked.

“India ink.”

“Parchment,” the voice responded, indicating the password had been accepted. “Who would you like to talk to?”

“Gerald.”

“Putting you through…”

Marv waited a few seconds, and a new voice came on the other end.

“Who's this?”

“Marv.”

“Ahhh…go ahead.”

“I'm with Basil. We followed that twerp just like you said to.”

“And?”

“He knows about Raven.”

“He does? My my my, hasn't this become the world's least-kept secret. What's he gonna do?”

“He's going to Pier 21 to meet her. If she responds.”

“Oh, we'll make her respond. Get down to the pier, we'll meet you there.”

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Star was riding the elevator in Wayne Enterprises up to the floor where Dick worked. She was a bit happy, not just to see him, but because somehow the elevator had made her feel a little less nauseous. She was still somewhat stymied as to what he could possibly have planned, especially when he had emphasized on her staying off her feet today.

Star got out of the elevator and was surprised to find that Dick's secretary, Tracy, was nowhere to be found. She shrugged and went in anyway. She opened the doors and went into the dark office. She heard the door lock behind her. The lights flicked on, and Star stopped breathing.

In the fairly spacious office, where she had expected to find Dick, she instead found five men in his place. Four of them were dressed in normal street clothes, and the fifth was dressed in a business suit and sitting on Dick's desk. He smiled.

“Good evening, Miss Anderson.”

Star backed up a few steps. “Who are you?”

”My name is Joseph Dobson (A/N: I hope you guys remember that first chapter!). I work with Mr. Grayson. He promoted me a month or two ago, don't ya know.”

“And your…associates?”

“Just as you say, Miss Anderson. They're my `associates'.” He took a mahogany pipe from his pocket and lit it. “You know, I really admire your composure. Most women would be screaming their heads off right now.”

“Excuse me if I'm not flattered. Where is Richard?”

“Mr. Grayson is…occupied at this point in time.”

Star's eyes narrowed fiercely. “What have you done with him, you—“

“What? You `clorbag varblernelk'?”

Star stood still as a statue, eyes now wide with fear. Dobson smiled as a few puffs of smoke escaped from his pipe.

“Please take a seat, Miss Anderson, and make yourself comfortable. We're going to have a little chat.”

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Terry zipped up his jacket up to his neck and stuck his hands in his pocket. Wisps of steam escaped his mouth. He hadn't realized how cold it was earlier. `Should've said to meet at the café or something,' he thought. `Fucking pier has to be so cold. At least I'm inside the warehouse.'

Very suddenly, a shadow stretched across the wall in front of him. Out of the shadow stepped an elegant, female figure. Blue cloth draped over her hips and crossed arms. Her eyes were glowing, and she didn't exactly look very happy.

“Raven,” he said in a businesslike manner.

“You?” she looked a bit stunned.

“Yeah, I called you. I know who you are.”

“Wait…have you seen any smugglers?”

Terry's jaw dropped. “Didn't you…get my call?”

“Yeah, but I knew it was you. I was gonna call to yell at you, but I caught a message on my earpiece that said there were smugglers here.”

Terry looked crestfallen. “You didn't take me seriously at all, did you?”

“Of course I did. Just…smugglers, you know? I see you, like, every day. I could meet you anytime.”

“How'd you know it was me?”

Raven snickered. “Your voice, no matter how you try to change it, is kind of hard to miss.”

“Damn. I really tried with that part.”

She paused. “Look…I'll talk to you in a little while, OK? I need to take care of these smuggler guys.”

“Oh, I think we'll be the ones taking care of you,” a voice said. The doors to the warehouse opened up, and ten men wielding automatic weapons came bursting in. One of them stepped forward. “Your little buddy over there was quite a help. We figured you'd be here `cause of him, but we sent that message over the cop's frequency as a little insurance.”

“I didn't tell you bastards anything!” Terry yelled. He suddenly noticed one of the men near the back of the pack. “Hey! I've seen you before! You were that guy I saw outside of that phone booth.”

The man smiled. “Smah worhl,” he said.

“What?”

“He said `small world',” the other man said. “Basil o'er here is deaf. Read your lips while you were in that phone booth.”

“Shit,” Terry whispered. “Sorry, Rave.”

“Well, you really should look around to see who's watching you,” Raven said through clenched teeth. Then, with a lowered voice, she asked, “Good thing you didn't happen to mention who you were actually addressing.”

“GET `EM!” the man shouted. Before Terry really knew what was happening, Raven had grabbed him by the waist and “phased” him through the roof with her. She ran along the roof, dodging the wave of bullets that came from below. Finally, they were in the air, and Terry was getting a bird's-eye view of the pier. Colors and lights swirled beneath him, and then they came down on a city rooftop. Raven gently dropped him, and he crawled over to a corner and threw up.

“Not one for air travel, I see,” Raven said, removing her hood and running a hand through her sweaty hair.

Terry wiped his mouth. “Not really, no.” He looked up at her and smiled. “I knew it. Karen said I was crazy, but I knew I was right.”

“Karen's in on this?” she groaned. “Fantastic.”

“She thinks I'm nuts. Can you tell her, so she won't?”

“As long as she doesn't run off to the paper, I guess. You guys aren't gonna start a club on me, are you?”

“Nah, course not. Just between friends. The only reason we did all that digging is because we were—“

“Digging? What digging?”

“Oh…shit.” `Learn to keep your mouth shut, Quinn.' “Uhh…”

“Did you and Karen spy on me?”

“No! No, we just…dug around a bit in your past, is all.”

“'That's all'? What gave you the fucking right?”

“You're our friend. We were worried you were doing something…dangerous. And, you were lying to us,” he added boldly.

“About what?”

“Well, besides the whole superhero thing, all those excuses—family business for instance, when your mother was declared legally dead in 1990, and I don't even know who your father—“

Now Raven had grabbed him by the collar. “Just what the hell do you think you know about my mother?” she asked icily. Terry didn't flinch.

“Her name was Angela Roth. She disappeared when she was 17. She has black hair, blue eyes, and you look almost exactly like her.”

Raven paused and set him down. “That's how far you got?”

“Fact-wise. We had several theories on what happened to her…and how you were born.”

Terry expected many things at this point: He expected to be shoved, slapped, yelled at, or even thrown, but he did not expect what actually happened next.

Raven started laughing.

It was not just giggling or chuckling, either. She was holding her sides and tearing up, actually starting to have trouble standing. After a few minutes of hysterics in front of a dumbfounded Terry, she sat down.

“What the hell was that?!” he shouted after a few seconds.

Raven giggled a bit. “I'm sorry, it's just…oh God…you guys didn't even scratch the surface of my past. It's just sort of funny, you probably think your theories are all correct and well-drawn…oh God…my sides…”

Terry looked miffed. “OK, well then, what is your deal?”

Raven stopped giggling and her expression turned more serious. “Long story. And when I say long, I mean long.” He promptly plopped down beside her.

“I've got time.”

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“Tell me, Miss Anderson,” Dobson said, fingering his pipe. “Would you like me to call you Star? Or Starfire? Or simply Koriand'r?”

“I'd like you to shut the hell up,” Star said, gritting her teeth. Her headache was beginning to worsen; her head was maintaining the same pressure and strain as a cantaloupe in a soup can. “I will ask you again: Where. Is. Richard?”

“Nightwing will be here shortly, I imagine. I called him just before you got here. While we're waiting for him, wanna take a stroll down memory lane?” He pulled out a manila folder. “This is a copy of your Archive file. You want to read? No? I'll read it to you, how about that?”

“What is an `Archive file'?”

“Just a little information us mobsters keep stored for…educational purposes.” He cleared his throat. “'Name: Koriand'r. Alias: Starfire. Age: 19.' Well, that part's obviously changed. I'm a tactful man, though, so I won't ask you your age. But, I digress. Let's skip past some of this other stuff, shall we? Boring, really. Hmm…ah yes, here it is: `Powers: Solar regeneration, flight, energy blasts produced by solar energy discharged from the hands and eyes.' Funny. If I were you, I would've just gone ahead and used all that by now.”

“And if I were you, I'd be running,” a voice from the window warned. Nightwing stood at the window with an expression of pure rage. “If you would step away from the lovely lady…”

“How about no?” one of the men in the corner sneered. Nightwing shot him a death glare.

“You think you can beat me? Think again. I can see how this is. You're underlings. The only one here who can actually realize how above this I am is Joe,” he said, turning his gaze to Dobson. “And he knows you all can't win.”

Dobson pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Star. “I have a .45 that disagrees with you, Mr. Grayson.”

All through this exchange, Star's stomach was churning, her head was pounding, and her wrists were itching severely. She was not only frightened, but angry beyond words. Furious. This shouldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening, not to her. She was a warrior princess, not one to be toyed with and used as some bargaining chip. That had happened far too often in the past, for her parents, her people, Slade; she wouldn't take it sitting down anymore. She would tear these despicable criminals up, blast them to shreds—

`What am I thinking?'

Star's head felt as if it was being split open. `I can't do any of those things,' she thought. But then, a long-dormant part of her mind—which had, for months, been worming its way to the surface—began to argue with her.

`You are not thinking at all. You are just standing around and waiting to be killed. And you can do those things, all of them.'

`I can't. I tried to—`

`A long time ago. You knew not how to continue, so you were forced to begin again.'

`And it was a good beginning. For the first time, I'm not a princess or a hero, I'm just a person! And being ordinary feels wonderful, relaxing!'

`Is it so relaxing now?'

Meanwhile, Nightwing and Dobson were still at it.

“I'm going to ask a few things of you, Mr. Grayson,” Dobson said quietly.

“And what would those be?” Nightwing snarled.

“I would first ask that you take off your utility belt. That's it…nice and easy…lay it on the floor.” Nightwing did so. “Tom. Please retrieve the belt.” One of the men went up and picked the belt off of the floor, then hastily retreated to the corner again. “Now, please dispose of any weapons hidden in your hair, boots or gloves, please.” The dark vigilante scowled and his gloves and boots, revealing smoke grenades, flash discs, and several knock-out darts from his hair.

“So…what's your deal, Joe?” Nightwing asked. “Have you been spying on me this whole time, or was this a recent gig?”

“If you must know,” Dobson said coolly. “I've had connections to the mob for years, but I really got into it recently. Because I found that there is someone in power now that really knows what he's doing.”

Star continued to argue with herself. `It wasn't my fault! A warrior reaches a point where they can't fight anymore!'

`A warrior also reaches a point where they must fight. You have to do this.'

`How?'

“You see, Mr. Grayson, Boss sent me here to deliver a message.”

“And what is that?” Dobson put the gun about an inch away from Star's face, aiming it between her eyes. Nightwing's eyes widened beneath his mask. “Don't…”

“The fact is, this isn't some sort of standoff where I give you the girl if you disarm yourself and listen to me. Boss's message is…” He cocked the gun. At that precise moment, Starfire's inner voice finally gave the answer to her question.

`You need to stop thinking like Star Anderson, and you need to start thinking like Starfire.'

Star's vision swam looking at the gun aimed at her. Her head felt as if it was going to explode any moment now. And as Dobson spoke, her vision began to turn green.

“He's going to kill you all.”

Dobson's finger muscles were just beginning to tighten around the trigger, and Nightwing's vocal cords were just beginning to vibrate to let out a scream when two huge, blazing green blasts came straight from Star's eyes, sending Dobson through the wall. When Star's vision came back into focus, her headache had disappeared and there was a huge, smoking hole in the wall. The other four men were momentarily stunned, but quickly went for their guns.

“I don't think so!” Star roared, unleashing two starbolts from her hands, thus relieving the horrible burning that had plagued her wrists. Two of them dropped like rocks, and the other two went for Nightwing. He kicked one of them in the stomach so hard he fell over coughing, but the other one body-checked the hero, causing him to stumble backwards…

…Right out the window.

“RICHARD!” Star screamed. She threw the man who had hit her fiancée into the wall—cracking his ribs—and flung herself out the window. She hurtled downwards, knowing full well that she had no time to be afraid. Nightwing had no grappling hook to save him. She was all he had. Now Star found herself thinking the same thing she had told Raven years ago during an unfortunate body-switching incident that left them with each other's powers.

`Close your eyes and think of something joyful.'

Star found many thoughts entering her head at that moment. Many of them spanning back to her time with the Titans, but most from very recently: she was attempting to focus on one single happy memory, one singular thought. Dick proposing to her. `I'm going to marry him,' she thought. `I have to get to him, because we're going to get married.'

100 feet from the ground…

Star's hand reached out to his.

80 feet…

Nightwing's hand shot out and intertwined with hers.

50 feet…

“Hold on.”

At 20 feet from the ground, Star took a sharp turn—drawing shouts and pointing from the pedestrians below—flying through the air at a speed she never had before, all the pain in her stomach dissipating. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so…right.

After about ten minutes of flying, Star landed on the roof of their apartment building. Nightwing hugged her and smiled.

“Hope we didn't draw too much attention,” he said. He laughed a bit. It was a shaky, relieved laugh, as if he couldn't believe that either of them had lived through what had just happened. “I didn't know you could still use your powers that well.”

“Neither did I,” she whispered.

“Well…I'm firing Dobson tomorrow,” he joked. “Let's hit the hay, Star.”

“No…not Star.” Nightwing turned to see his fiancée perfectly silhouetted in the moonlight, her eyes glowing a radiant green.

“It's Starfire.”

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Blowfish: I bet you've all been waiting to hear THAT for several chapters now, no? Hope you liked it—took a while to type. What I really hope is that it ties you over `til the next installment. But you could check out my other fic, “The Adventures of the Teen Titans”. TAoTT needs love, people!

Starfire promotes reviewing.