Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Teen Titans: Future Storm ❯ Kinetic ( Chapter 6 )

 

“Teen Titans: Future Storm”

Arc 2: “Mentality”

Chapter 1: “Kinetic”

Disclaimer: The concept of Teen Titans does not belong to me. The characters Nightstar and Mercury do not belong to me; they are owned by DC and DC/Marvel respectively. Everyone and everything else is mine.

Author's note: Happy New Year and here we go with a new arc. This time, I'm focusing on my non-Titan-related OC Raziel. Generally, reader reaction to him has been positive, but I've realized that you, my readers, deserve to know more about him. So this arc is going to shed plenty of light on our mysterious psychic. By the time it's over, we and the Titans will know his past . . . and an old enemy will return.

A young man crouched atop a church, clinging to the large cross in the center as though he were a drowning man. Silver hair hung in haunted purple eyes and bloodied leather sheathed his body. Memories raced through his mind.

A mask, silver with a black dragon coiled over the mouth.

Her eyes just before she died.

Fighting her . . . fighting him . . . them fighting each other and then . . .

He breathed heavily, the strain showing on his femininely attractive features as he climbed through the window to enter the church. Upon entering, he stumbled and fell. This night and the others before it had taken their toll on him.

As he struggled to his feet, he heard footsteps approaching him. He rolled over to look at the person approaching him.

“Fa . . . Father . . .” he murmured.

The priest picked up a small candle and held it out to the young man, hoping to stimulate him. “Raziel? My God, what have they done to you?”

Raziel didn't answer, his mind drifting back to just how he'd gotten himself into this predicament. . . .

Ten days earlier . . .

Raziel and Nightstar sparred in the training room. Nightstar swung her energy whip at him and Raziel moved his head out of the way, losing a few strands of silver hair in the process.

“Getting slow?” Nightstar taunted.

Raziel smirked. “We'll see who's slow.” He pulled out three needles from one of the numerous pockets on his pants and threw them at Nightstar, each one flying at her at two thousand feet per second. Nightstar deflected them with her whip and swung it at Raziel again. This time, he threw himself to the side and twisted into a crouching position, skidding on the ground.

Nightstar dissipated her whip and flew at Raziel, who caught her by her wrists. The Titan leader swung her legs up and kicked Raziel in the face, somersaulting as soon as he released her and landing gracefully on the ground.

Raziel shifted into a fighting stance, as did Nightstar. Emerald-on-lime locked on amethyst, each fighter waiting to see who would attack first.

Nightstar made the first move with a fast jab at Raziel's face. Raziel knocked her fist aside and kicked her in the stomach. Nightstar took the kick, wrapping her arms around Raziel's ankle and twisting. Raziel twisted in the same direction as her and his other foot impacted against her head, disorienting her long enough to force her to let go of him.

“Brutal,” she remarked.

“When I have to be,” he answered.

This time, Raziel went on the attack, striking quickly and fiercely with his fists and feet. Nightstar blocked most of them, but a few managed to slip past her guard. The silver-haired psychic dropped to kick her legs out from under her, but she flew into the air and came down with a kick to the head. Raziel grabbed her ankle and spun her into a throw that sent her flying at a wall. Nightstar righted herself in midair and flew at Raziel like a missile, her head striking his with enough force to shatter a normal human's skull.

“Now who's brutal?” he asked wryly.

Nightstar's answer was a series of machine-gun kicks to Raziel's chest, kicks that were halted by a chop to her ankle. She attempted to kick him with her other foot, only to be blocked by his forearm. The black-haired girl bent double and twisted to elbow him in the stomach. That particular move knocked the breath out of the psychic martial artist and he collapsed, Nightstar twisting so that she landed on top of him.

“Ready to give up?” she hissed into his ear as she twisted his arm behind him.

Raziel bit his lip to stifle the dark thrill he got from feeling her breath so close to his ear. He swung his free arm at Nightstar with the intent of elbowing her in the head. Instead, that arm was pinned as well.

“Do you give up now?” she asked and Raziel could have sworn he felt something wet touch his ear momentarily. Suspecting what that was he directed more of his efforts to keeping himself under control, lest the darker parts of his psyche cut loose and vent his impure cravings on her.

Let me out, Raziel, an edgy, excited voice pleaded. I can take her. I know I can, if you'll just let me.

Fine, Michael, Raziel answered. Just don't hurt her too badly.

I wouldn't, Michael answered as he assumed control over Raziel's body. The Zen fighter rolled over, pinning Nightstar on her back and crushing her against him. He twisted in her grip so that he was facing her. “Greetings, Mar'i.”

“Michael,” Nightstar greeted tersely before swinging her legs up for a double knee-jab. Michael took the blow gracefully and both flipped up into combat positions.

Nightstar shot her hand at his throat and Michael grabbed her wrist, easily stopping her strike. Nightstar aimed a high kick for his face, but he caught that as well. The half-Tamaranean swung her other leg up for another kick, but Michael blocked it with his own leg, balancing himself on his other leg.

“Both of us have only one limb free,” Michael observed. “Leaves us at quite a stalemate, doesn't it?”

“Yes,” Nightstar agreed. She jabbed at Michael with her free hand, but he moved his head out of the way. Unfortunately, her movement had upset the delicate balance in which their bodies had arranged themselves and they toppled, Michael falling on top of her.

“Give up?” Michael asked with a smirk.

Nightstar didn't answer, but the Zen fighter could hear her heavy breaths, not to mention feel the rise and fall of her chest against his.

A look of soft yearning entered his eyes as he gazed at her.

“Raziel!” a voice sharply cut in, disrupting the possibly romantic moment.

“Yes, Mercury?” Michael asked softly.

“There's someone at the door asking for you,” Mercury replied.

Michael got off Nightstar with a start, shifting control of the body back to Raziel. “Is anyone else in the common room?”

“No,” Mercury replied.

“Good,” Raziel stated. “Keep it that way.” He strode out of the training room and to the front door of Titans Tower. “Hello, Ariana.”

The girl standing before him was petite, dressed in a miniscule black top that covered only her breasts and a diaphanous black micro-mini-skirt over a pair of tiny shorts. Black shoes covered her feet with black ribbons tied around her slender calves. More black ribbons wrapped around her forearms and a black choker banded around her throat with chains connecting it to her top.

“Hello, Raziel,” Ariana greeted. “I wish I could have seen you under better circumstances.”

“What do you mean?” Raziel inquired.

“The Brain Trust,” Ariana answered. “They want you back with them.”

“And what makes them think I'd go back?” Raziel asked.

“That's why they sent me,” Ariana replied.

Raziel chuckled bitterly. “Of course. They sent you to entice me into coming back.” The chuckle turned darker. “And you are . . . quite fetching in that outfit. But the only way I'm coming back . . . is in a body bag. So run along and tell your masters that.”

“Raziel . . .” Ariana uttered sadly.

“Leave,” Raziel ordered, turning around and walking away. He heard the door close, indicating that Ariana had chosen to walk away as well, but he didn't care. All that was on his mind was that some things just weren't content to remain in the closet.

He climbed the stairs to the common room and collapsed on the couch.

“Damn them,” he muttered. “Damn them all.”

“So who was she?” Samara questioned, looming over him.

“No one,” Raziel responded.

“Don't lie to me, Raziel,” Samara hissed. “Not when you might as well be naked in front of me.”

Raziel snickered. “Flirting with me, are you?”

“You're so full of yourself,” Samara grumbled. “Who was she?”

“Just a ghost,” Raziel replied. “A ghost that's been haunting me for the past several years.”

“Want to . . . talk about it?” Samara asked.

“No,” Raziel replied. “I don't. I honestly don't.”

“Then find a way to get yourself together or I'll ask Mar'i to keep you off patrol tonight,” Samara ordered.

“Meditate with me?” Raziel asked, although it came out more as a plea.

“Sure,” Samara replied.

On the rooftop of Titans Tower, Samara and Raziel meditated.

“Azarath Terra Zaratha,” they chanted together. “Azarath Terra Zaratha. Azarath Terra Zaratha. Azarath Terra Zaratha . . .”

That night, Raziel couldn't sleep. The nightmares kept him awake, visions of blood and death that wouldn't leave him in peace.

The silver-haired youth climbed out of his bed and walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. Along the way, he heard voices talking in the common room.

The other Titans? he wondered. What would they be doing up this late?

Let's not throw stones, Raziel, the voice of Gabriel, his more intellectual side, stated. Their conversation intrigues me, though.

Raziel walked closer to the common room and flattened himself against the wall.

“He didn't tell you anything?” Nightstar asked.

“For the last time, Mar'i, no,” Samara replied.

“All I know is that the girl's name is Ariana and it sounded like she knew him,” Beast Girl interjected. “I think she's his girlfriend.”

“What makes you think that?” Nightstar asked. “You told me yourself that some organization called the Brain Trust sent her to kill him.”

“She could be his ex,” Inferno suggested. Raziel could practically hear the wicked grin in his voice. “You jealous?”

After that, Raziel heard nothing more than a pointed silence, indicating that Nightstar had given Inferno the “Bat-glare.”

“Learn that from granddaddy?” Mercury quipped.

“Someone was sent to kill Raziel,” Nightstar gritted out. “She was able to get past our security. I am not resting until we find out who she is, what this Brain Trust is, and what they want with Raziel.”

Raziel sighed and went up to his room. He threw off his cotton sleeping pants and changed into the black shirt and pants he wore as part of his Titan uniform. He slipped on his usual steel-toed black boots and threw on a black leather jacket instead of his usual white haori jacket.

With that done, he went down to the vehicle bay of the Tower and got on his motorcycle. He put on a helmet and started the motorcycle, driving through the underwater tunnel that would take him to the city.

Raziel had no particular destination in mind. He just rode around the city, trying to clear his head.

He returned to the Tower no clearer in mind or purpose than he'd been when he left. He parked his motorcycle in the vehicle bay and returned to his room, throwing off his helmet and jacket and collapsing on the bed.

Morning greeted him only an hour or so later.

“Hell,” the psychic martial artist mumbled and forced himself off the bed. He walked to his radio and turned on the CD player, turning the volume all the way up just to shock himself into awareness. Loud, brutal heavy metal assaulted his ears . . . and the ears of the other Titans.

“You mind turning it down?” Bladefire asked as he entered Raziel's room.

“Sorry,” Raziel stated as he turned down the CD player to more tolerable levels.

“Say, what are you doing already dressed?” Bladefire inquired.

“No reason,” Raziel answered.

“You might wanna change the shirt,” Bladefire said. “We're not supposed to wear our Titans uniforms to school.”

“Sure,” Raziel answered as he stripped off his shirt and threw on a gray pullover.

At school, Raziel was unable to concentrate on his AP Literature test, which was basically an essay on The Jungle. All he could think about was Ariana. The girl who had been his friend in childhood haunted his psyche . . . as she'd done for the past several years since that fateful night.

Take a number, Raziel, Gabriel whispered. I'll handle this test.

Sure, Raziel muttered and let the most erudite of his multiple personalities take over the test.

That was the way it was until lunch. Raziel brooded in the corner of his mind that was reserved for his own personality while Gabriel handled his classes.

At lunch, Raziel brooded at the lunch table without a single scrap of food before him. He was too tormented to feel hunger . . . or much of anything else except the soul-numbing misery that hung over him like a black cloud that sucked out all his joy and contentment.

“What's wrong?” Nightstar asked, sitting beside him.

“I don't want to talk about it,” Raziel replied.

“Why not?” Nightstar inquired.

“Because I don't,” Raziel answered.

“You didn't eat any breakfast this morning,” Nightstar stated. “You might as well eat some lunch. Can't have you wasting away to just skin and bones.”

“I'm not hungry,” Raziel deadpanned.

Nightstar lowered her tone and asked, “What is this Brain Trust?”

“Nothing you need concern yourself with, Mar'i,” Raziel responded.

“When they come after a teammate and friend, you bet your ass I'm concerned,” Nightstar hissed. “What aren't you telling me?”

“It's nothing!” Raziel suddenly exploded, taking Nightstar aback. He breathed heavily, trying to calm himself. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . . I'd better go.” He stood up and walked away from the lunch table.

The silver-haired young man ended up outside the school building. He walked out to the soccer field and began practicing his katas. As he practiced, he felt someone come up behind him. He spun around and kicked the person, only for that person to jump into the air to avoid the kick. He came down with a kick that nearly dislocated Raziel's jaw.

“I want to know why you shouted at my sister,” he stated.

“Joh'n,” Raziel spoke. “I didn't intend to do that.”

“She's worried sick about you, Raziel,” Bladefire said. “We all are. And you losing your cool with her proves that we have good reason to be.”

“I told her and I'll tell you: It's nothing,” Raziel stated.

“She got past Titans Tower security just to tell you that some organization called the Brain Trust sent her to either recapture or kill you,” Bladefire insisted. “Next time, she might just kill you in your sleep. That's not what I'd call nothing. Now what aren't you telling us?”

“There are things I can't tell you,” Raziel answered.

“Why not?” Bladefire asked.

“Because I can't,” Raziel replied, walking away from the school.

In his room, Raziel heard knocking on the door as New Age music played on his radio. “Come in.”

The door opened and Inferno entered. “You know, it's not nice to walk out of school midway through. Do you know how much agony the six of us had to suffer at Alderman's hands?”

“What did she do to you?” Raziel asked.

“Oh, not much,” Inferno replied sarcastically. “Just subjected us to a tirade about how irresponsible we are and how we think we're above the rules. Honestly, you might want to be more discreet about ditching school.”

“Sorry about that,” Raziel muttered.

“This thing with that girl has got you stressed out bad, hasn't it?” Inferno mused.

“Ding-ding-freaking-ding!” Raziel exclaimed in the more gravelly and sinister tones of Memnoch. “Johnny, tell our contestant what he's won!”

Inferno grabbed Memnoch by his shoulders. “This is serious! Quit screwing around!”

Memnoch roughly slapped Inferno's hands off his shoulders, a dangerous look growing in his increasingly reddish purple eyes. “Don't. Touch. Me.”

“You can't keep putting barriers between us and you, Raziel,” Inferno stated. “You can tell us now or you can leave us to figure it out later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Memnoch grumbled. “Now get the hell out of my room before I see fit to cut your head off.”

“If that's the way you want it,” Inferno answered as he stepped out of the room.

A few hours, he heard a soft knock on the door. “Raziel?” a soft, almost timid feminine voice asked.

“Terri,” Raziel murmured. “Come in.”

The door slid in and Beast Girl entered. “It's time for dinner. You hungry?”

“Not really,” Raziel replied.

“We miss you,” Beast Girl whispered. “Mar'i misses you.”

“Why doesn't she come up here and tell me that herself?” Raziel inquired.

“Come on, Razzy,” Beast Girl pleaded.

“No,” he murmured. “Don't even try it.”

To his dismay, Beast Girl turned large, pleading kitty eyes on him. Raziel stared into those shining golden orbs and melted.

“Fine,” he relented. “I'll come down.”

“You really ought to run for class president, Jeremiah,” Mercury said. “You'd be pretty good.”

“I'd be more convinced of your faith in me if you weren't talking and eating at the same time,” Inferno droned.

Mercury finished his meal.

“You're a pig, you know that?” Beast Girl remarked.

Mercury just smirked. “Oink, oink.”

“So what makes you think I'd make a good class president?” Inferno asked.

“You're the school's resident crusader for social justice,” Mercury answered. “You'd actually redeem the office of class president since you'd be doing stuff to really improve the school instead of just pandering to the rich kids.” He looked at Nightstar, Bladefire, Beast Girl, and Samara. “No offense to you guys.”

“None taken,” Samara replied.

Mercury dashed away from the dinner table and came back with a chart of the present candidates.

“Here you go,” he said. He pointed to a bleached blond that looked almost exactly like a living Barbie doll. “Sandy Drew. Not much to her except her looks. Problem? She's got cash. Hella lot of it. She's also a cheerleader and is not adverse to bribing potential voters.”

“So a dumb, corrupt bimbo,” Samara interjected with a sneer.

“Hey, dumb, corrupt bimbos get elected to public office all the time,” Beast Girl added. “They just gotta have at least 20 mil to blow on campaigning.”

“`Blow'?” Mercury repeated with a disturbed expression on his face.

“You have a sick mind, Peter Maxwell Allen,” Beast Girl stated.

Mercury whistled innocently and pointed to a mousy redhead, who was next on the chart. “Deirdre O'Hara. Intelligent, dedicated, passionate. Basically a female version of you, Jeremiah. She'll be a challenge. Plus, she makes me feel guilty about being male.”

“How does she make you feel guilty about being male?” Nightstar asked.

“She's a hardcore feminist,” Mercury replied. “For as long as I've known her, she's been going on tangents about how girls can't get a full education because traditional `patriarchal' values keep them from speaking up in class.”

“It's not just school,” Nightstar added. “It's society as a whole. Men are scared to death of strong, professional women who know what they want. Not so easy to control. Why do you think superheroine rape fantasies are so popular in the seedier parts of cyberspace?”

Everyone except Raziel and Bladefire gave Nightstar very disturbed looks.

“Joh'n and I were working on a case a year and a half ago about someone assaulting young women who were superheroines for Halloween,” Nightstar explained. “One of our big leads was that the sick asshole frequented web sites catering to people who liked the idea of forcing themselves on a female hero.” She shuddered. “Not one of my favorite memories.”

“Can we change the subject before one of us throws up his or her dinner?” Beast Girl asked.

“Sure,” Nightstar replied.

“Third candidate's Miguel Lago,” Mercury finished, pointing to a picture of a Hispanic boy in small glasses.

“He's kinda cute,” Samara admitted with a faint blush. “In that professional sort of way.”

“Not only is he cute, he's also pretty popular with the intellectual crowd,” Mercury added. “He's also very heavily involved in school politics. He was part of the student council until he got into a disagreement with the leadership over the council's future direction. He's got credibility in spades.”

“So I've got one opponent who might win just because she's a rich, popular bimbo and two opponents who have a good chance of winning because they actually have brains,” Inferno summarized.

“In a nutshell,” Mercury confirmed. “But you got plenty of brains in there, too! And credibility? That practically goes without saying! You got a school newsletter and you're a protector of the city, nay, the world!”

“I'm also a metahuman,” Inferno cut in. “And student opinion on metas is pretty divided. There's a considerable percentage who think that none of us should have been allowed to attend school with normal humans at all. That could work against me.”

“You do realize that part of the reason people hate metahumans, particularly superheroes, in their schools is that they regard us as aloof,” Bladefire stated. “If you run for school office, they might change their minds on that.”

“All right,” Inferno replied. “I'll think about it.”

“If you decide to go for it, feel free to enlist us as your campaign managers and speechwriters,” Mercury offered.

Throughout the entire exchange, Raziel had silently eaten and observed.

“You have anything to say, Raziel?” Nightstar asked.

“Heavy lies the head that wears the crown,” Raziel replied. He stood up from the table and walked away.

“What's with him?” he heard Mercury ask.

“I don't know,” he heard Bladefire reply.

Not heeding his fellow Titans' voices, Raziel went down to the vehicle bay and took his motorcycle for a ride. This time, he had a destination in mind.

The silver-haired young man found himself parked in front of a cathedral. He took off his helmet and placed it in its compartment before entering. Once inside, he walked into the confession booth.

“Hello, Father Matthew,” he whispered, knowing who was on the other end of the barrier separating them.

“Hello, Raziel,” Father Matthew greeted back. “What troubles you?”

“You know, Father, that my past . . . is not anything I would like to confess to the other Titans,” Raziel answered.

“And you fear it has come back to haunt you,” Father Matthew deduced.

“Yes,” Raziel confessed. “Why now, though, when I have begun to create something better than what I had before? Before, I was -”

“That doesn't matter,” Father Matthew interrupted. “What you were before has nothing to do with what you are now. But if you are to truly move on from that, you must not keep it a secret from your friends.”

Raziel sighed. “Easier said than done. How do I tell them that once I was no better than the same kind of scum we fight on a nightly basis?”

“The Titans seem like understanding and kindhearted people. After all, they took you in without knowing anything about your past.” The priest paused. “Is it Nightstar you're worried about?”

“Yes.”

“You have feelings for her, don't you?”

Raziel didn't answer that at all. He didn't need to.

“A relationship cannot last if its foundation is secrets.”

“Perhaps not.” The psychic crossed himself as Father Matthew recited the prayer for his soul. He stood up and departed from the confession booth, no more at peace than he had been when he entered it.

Upon exiting the church, Raziel “saw” a kunai flying at the back of his head. He whirled around and caught it by the blade. Looking up, he spotted a shadowed figure glaring at him from the church rooftop, crouched on the cross.

“You?”

“Crestmore. Long time no see.”

End Notes: If you're the kind of person who doesn't like cliffhangers, you won't like this ending. Don't worry, the arc doesn't end here; it's only the first chapter.

I'm putting Raziel through hell, aren't I? Again, you don't need to worry. There's a light at the end of the tunnel for him.

Feel free to read and review.