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Chapter Text

Her name was Terra. She was gifted with tremendous power, and cursed with it as well. She was a dangerous enemy, and a good friend. And she was one of the bravest people I have ever known.

Darkness. It came without warning, a looming darkness that could be felt. It was not the first time that Garfield Logan, better known as Beast Boy, had felt this darkness. It had haunted him before, many times before. When he closed his eyes to find rest, it haunted him. When he finally awoke from the nightmares, soaked in cold sweat and gasping for breath, the darkness did not fade. 

Sometimes it would leave him, for a little while. Time in the company of his friends, the Teen Titans, was his only relief. An hour of gaming with Cyborg, a combat session with Robin, quiet reading with Raven, or a confusing joke from Starfire could all chase the darkness away, for a time. Then, when he was alone, that darkness would strike like a viper. 

Beast Boy had learned to accept the darkness as normal. On this particular night, he groaned a soft, pained groan in his sleep, and subconsciously rolled over with his face in the pillow. The sweat began to trickle out from his pores. He was hot. Very hot.

Molten lava tended to be hot, and he found himself surrounded by it. In a cavern deep below the earth, shadows crawled, magma flowed, and the ground shook. Beast Boy gasped, struggling to keep his balance. His eyes darted around the spacious subterranean cavern, trying to pierce the darkness. It was a vain endeavor. He considered morphing into an animal, one with a better shot of seeing down here.

A stone sailed past his ear, nicking him. Beast Boy yelped, reaching for the tender appendage. A fast whistle warned of a second projectile, and he ducked just in the nick of time. Then another stone flew by, and another, and another. A feminine cry rang out through the cavern, and Beast Boy's head whipped around to look for the source. What he saw boiled his blood.

On a ledge up above, a man dodged stone after stone as they were hurled at him. He moved with the grace of an acrobat and the savagery of a warrior. He even managed to deflect a number of the stones back at his assailant. Beast Boy felt his hands involuntarily curl into fists. He wanted nothing more than to change shape, to assume the form of a gorilla and pummel the man into mulch. The man turned his head to the side to dodge an incoming boulder, and Beast Boy saw him clearly. That black and orange mask was, as far as Beast Boy was concerned, the true face of evil.

Beast Boy hated Slade with a hatred that frightened him. He fixed his eyes on the villain, desperately fighting the urge to leap up from the chasm, take on a more vicious form, and break the man. It would do no good. The nightmare would proceed, the way it always did, and the only one broken would be Beast Boy. That, however, was inevitable. Each thrown stone was accompanied by a voice, a girl’s voice, crying out in fury. Beast Boy froze as the darkness swelled, closing its icy fingers around his heart.

“I won’t look,” he whispered. “I won’t look. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t. . .”

Yes, the darkness hissed. You will.

And so he did. Beast Boy raised his trembling eyes to the roof of the cavern. There, a single boulder floated in the air, and on that boulder stood a girl. She was clothed in the tattered remains of a uniform, one that bore the mark of Slade. Her flowing amber hair swirled around her in a tempest of locks. Her eyes, which Beast Boy knew were a vibrant shade of ocean-blue, glowed with furious yellow power as she pelted Slade with a volley of earth. She was beautiful, and she was terrible, like a raging thunderstorm in the desert. Beast Boy felt the tears welling within his eyes. He fought them. He lost.

“Terra. . .”

Terra took no notice of Beast Boy, nor of his tears. These events were well past Beast Boy's power to change; he could only observe. Slade leapt for Terra, planting a haymaker right across her face. Terra fell, motionless. Slade stood triumphantly over her, stooped, and grabbed her by the collar. He held her up over his head, like a trophy.

“Put her down!” Beast Boy screamed. Despite the anger he poured into the words, they came out as a desperate plea. It mattered little. No one was listening. No one could hear him, except for the darkness.

A powerful surge swept through the cavern. Terra opened her eyes once again.

“You can’t control me ANY MORE!” she bellowed, eyes aglow with power. The cavern shook. Stones shattered. Magma sprayed. The earth tore itself apart with Terra’s wrath, and both she and Slade were enveloped by a starburst of her power. Beast Boy shielded his eyes from the light. He wanted to keep them shielded; he knew what came next. He'd seen it unfold many times, like a tragedy that never ended. The darkness would not let him hide. The smoke cleared, and he raised his eyes to look.

Slade was gone, consumed by the pit of magma Terra had awakened. Good riddance, Beast Boy wanted to say. Yet, he knew that Slade’s story didn’t end here. The villain had returned from death itself to haunt the Titans. It wasn’t fair, Beast Boy thought for the millionth time, that people like Slade got second chances.

Terra collapsed in an exhausted heap upon the floating boulder. The shaking of the cavern grew more violent, more wrathful. The lava flowed even hotter. Beast Boy watched as the cavern churned itself into a destructive porridge of magma and stone, threatening the city above. Yet, in this moment, just like every one of the times he had lived it before, Beast Boy cursed the city. It meant nothing to him in this moment. He cared for only one thing.

“Terra!”

She steered her boulder towards Beast Boy now, eyes drooping with exhaustion, and collapsed into his waiting arms. He held her in them, more tightly now than ever before.

“We have to go,” he whispered in her ear. He felt her arms encircle him, felt her bury her face in his shoulder. The cavern reeked of brimstone and sulfur, yet all Beast Boy could smell was the gentle, pleasant earthy aroma of Terra’s hair.

“I have to stay,” she weakly whispered back.

“No,” Beast Boy whispered. “Don’t stay, Terra. Please don’t stay here. It’s too late.”

She softly pulled away from him, offering a warm, exhausted smile. Beast Boy clenched his teeth behind his lips, which quivered with his vain effort to fight new tears. He tried to hold on to her, but his arms turned to jelly. 

Terra reached out. Beast Boy felt her fingers brush his cheek as she wiped his tears away.

“It’s never too late,” she said. Beast Boy felt her arms encircle him once more, and she rested her head against his shoulder. “You. . . were the best friend. . . I ever had.”

Those words had lived in Beast Boy’s memory ever since Terra first uttered them. A myriad of words accompanied them, all the things that Beast Boy had wanted to say back to her, but couldn’t. One of them rose above the rest, and he took his chance to say it now.

“You were the world I wanted to save.”

Terra pulled away, offering Beast Boy one last smile. Then, her floating boulder rose high into the cavern. Terra’s body rippled with power, and she held her arms wide as she unleashed it. One last cry erupted from deep within her, and the rumbling of the awakened volcano was silenced.

Beast Boy sat up, gasping for air. He was not in the cavern at all; he was in his bed, in his room, in Titans Tower. Somehow, that was even worse. There was no ash in his lungs, yet he was choking all the same. His breathing steadied, and he wiped his soaked forehead with the back of his hand. He sighed, a deep and empty sigh that took another piece of his soul with it. 

“Terra. . .”

Chapter Text

Ashley was late, and if she didn’t hurry, the bus would leave without her. She had missed the bus stop back at the Johnson Home for Girls where she lived, so she had to book it to the bus stop six blocks away. She was running, pumping her arms as quickly as she could, huffing and puffing like a racehorse. 

Ashley had never been late for school before, and she wasn’t about to be now. She quickened her pace. Cars passed her on the street, honking at one another like elephants. Pedestrians moved rapidly out of her way like frightened mice or disgruntled cats. At least they didn’t hiss at her. As she ran, the wind caught her hair, and a long amber lock blew right in her face. She blew it away with a quick puff. There was the bus now, just four blocks away. The sidewalk between her and the bus stop was mostly clear, and up ahead, the bus had a red light. Time was on her side. She might even beat it there.

Ashley had just caught up to where the bus waited at the traffic light when her lungs gave out. She came trotting to a stop, bracing herself against a street sign. She heaved, sucking in air through her mouth to her lungs. It was a hot day, too hot to be running so fast. If only the girls down the hall from her hadn’t taken so long in the bathroom, Ashley wouldn’t have missed the bus in the first place. Some people were so inconsiderate. Luckily, the oncoming traffic didn’t look like it was going to let up just yet. She needed a moment to rest.

As she caught her breath, her eyes wandered. Ashley was always very conscious of her surroundings. A girl could never be too careful, after all. A shadow caught her attention, and her eyes flicked to its source. Ashley realized she was standing in front of a construction zone. The city was building a new office complex, and the work had a ways to go. Her stomach fluttered, suddenly brimming with butterflies. Normally, Ashley wouldn’t waste a second glance on a half-finished office building. Yet, to her, it was more than that. On this very spot, just a few months prior, an old friend had come back into her life.

Jump City was a sprawling metropolis. It was easy for a girl to go unnoticed in such a big place, if she just kept her head down and didn’t make a scene. Ashley had done just that for the past several months; she went to school, she spent time with a few carefully selected friends, and she went to bed. That was the life she had chosen; quiet, simple, insignificant. She was one of the crowd, no one special, and that by design. Thus, it came as quite the surprise when, out of all the places in Jump City, the Teen Titans appeared on her street.

Stop, she told herself. She fought the tide of memories that clamored for freedom. No matter how strong the walls she'd put up were, they couldn't keep it all at bay.

Ashley bit her lip as she thought back to that day. She had wanted to run away, then and there, and hide her face in the crowd. Yet, whether by the fear of discovery or a subconscious joy at seeing her old friends in action, she had been paralyzed. All she could do was watch. That had sealed her fate, because a moment later, one of the Titans was flung from the battle. Her luck really had run out, because he was the one who knew her best.

That was the day that Beast Boy had recognized her. Despite all her efforts to keep her head low, to become another face in the crowd, she couldn’t hide from him. All Beast Boy needed was a glance, and he knew. He called for her by name, a name she had tried to abandon. She had wanted, for just a moment, to answer.

I can’t , she told herself over and over again. It became a mantra. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

She ran. For a moment, Beast Boy had looked back to the battle, back to his friends, and Ashley had bolted. She ran until she was certain that she was out of sight, down a dark alley and behind a dumpster. There, she collapsed. Her heart pumped with fury. Her lungs heaved with agony. When her breathing steadied, she pulled her knees up and rested her chin there. Sadness engulfed her like a shadow, and she softly wept. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into her tears. “I’m so sorry. I can’t.”

Oh, how a small part of her had wanted to. How that part of her had wanted to raise her arms to the heavens and rain down brick and mortar upon the Titans’ foe. How she had wanted to step out from the crowd, put her hands on her hips and swish her long hair over her shoulder as the Titans looked on in surprise. She wondered what they might say, what they might do. Would they be happy to see her? Would they whisk her away to Titans Tower, welcoming her back into their fold?

Or would they be angry? Would the shadows of her past wrongs cloud their faces? Would they be unable to forgive her for what she had done to them? She wasn’t even certain that she had forgiven herself. How could the Titans?

“They couldn’t,” the shadow hissed. Ashley froze, fingers of fear curling around her spine. The memory was over, and she was catching her breath next to the stopped bus once again. Yet the voice had been as clear as glass. She turned to look over her shoulder. There, in the alleyway behind her, the shadow stood. It was a shadow she knew well, one she had come to hate. She knew that somewhere within, a single cold eye analyzed her from behind a metal mask. 

“Leave me alone,” Ashley whispered. The shadow crossed its arms.

“It’s the truth, Terra. You know that as well as I.”

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed.

“Does your name frighten you, little girl?” the shadow took a step forward, into the light. Half of a mask emerged from the shadows, a cruel orange visage slashed with many nicks. A solitary eye glared at Ashley from within. “Do you believe that by changing your name and going to school, that you can change who you are? Change what you’ve done?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Ashley spat. “You’re not even real. You’re just a bad dream.”

“Do you often dream in broad daylight?”

Ashley balled her fist. She could feel the pavement trembling underfoot. Don’t lose control. The shadow watched her from the alleyway, his cold mask offering her no emotional response.

“The light’s green,” he said at last. Ashley looked up to see the bus pulling towards the stop. Three blocks remained between her and her destination. “Run along now, girl, or you’ll be late for class. We will continue this discussion again soon. Very soon.”

Ashley blinked. The shadow was gone. The bus was gone. She was left alone on the sidewalk.

Well, not entirely alone. There was more foot traffic now, and the sidewalk was teeming with pedestrians going about their business. Ashley stood, adjusted her backpack, and took off for the bus stop. 

She had no idea if the shadow was real, or if he was just a ghost of the past, haunting her into the present she had worked so hard to build. She had no idea what the future held, either. 

However, running along the sidewalk towards the school bus, there was one thing she did know.

Today, as she had done so many times before, she would run, and pray that the past wouldn't catch up to her.

Chapter Text

Morning had come. The sweat of last night’s nightmare still clung to Beast Boy's neck and hair, chilling his skin as a breeze came through the open window.

“Jeez, dude,” he scolded himself as he stumbled over to the window. “Not gonna do anyone any good as a Beast-cicle.”

He reached for the window pane and paused to take a look. The view from his room in Titans Tower was a spectacular sight. The Jump City skyline was already awash with the vibrant colors of dawn. Orange swirls chased blue clouds across the sky, making way for the arrival of the sun’s life-giving rays.

Beast Boy closed the window and pulled the curtains shut with a sigh. Morning had come, yes, but the sun wasn’t shining for him. He turned to his desk and slumped into the chair. The others were probably all up and about. Cyborg would be making stacks of waffles, Robin would be practicing martial arts forms, Raven would be getting in some light reading, and Starfire would be devouring Cyborg’s waffles by the mouthful. Beast Boy sighed. He might get some breakfast later. He might not. For now, he was sitting. 

Gingerly, Beast Boy opened the drawer in his desk and reached inside. He patted around inside, searching. When his fingers found their target, he clutched it in his hand and withdrew it from the drawer. His eyes fell upon the object in his hands. It was a white, plastic hair clip shaped like a butterfly. He had been holding onto it for a long, long time.

“Terra.”

It had been hers, long ago, when she first met the Titans. She had dropped it the night that she left.

“You told him?” she had wailed, eyes wide with hurt and anger.

“I didn’t!” Beast Boy had insisted. Like so many young metahumans in the world, Terra was radically gifted. Yet, for all her strengths, her powers were difficult to control. She had forced Beast Boy to swear not to tell anyone; he had agreed, without a second thought. Yet, no one needed telling, and Robin had guessed it on his own.

“You promised!” she’d screamed, throwing down the Titans communicator that had served as her welcoming gift. “You lied to me! You lied!” She’d stormed out of the tower. Beast Boy had followed for as long as he could, but she was long gone. All that remained of her was the hair clip that he now held in his hands. 

Then she had come back, and for a while Beast Boy was happy. Terra was the first girl he’d had the courage to ask out on a date. He grinned lightly, laughing a half-laugh that died in his throat as he remembered.

“I. . . I don’t know what to say,” Terra had said, eyes sparkling as she gazed into the heart-shaped mirror box he had made for her.

“You could say yes,” Beast Boy had answered, summoning all of his courage, “because I’m about to ask you out on a date.”

Her eyes had swelled in stunned disbelief.

“Whoa. . . wow.” That was all she could manage, and for a moment Beast Boy had thought he was successful.

“So. . . wanna do something tomorrow night?” he asked excitedly.

“Tomorrow,” she’d repeated. Her face had fallen, and she clutched the mirror box close. “I. . . I’m sorry, Beast Boy. I can’t.”

“But. . .”

“I just can’t,” she’d repeated, retreating into her room and shutting the door. He’d stood there, devastated, not sure what he’d done wrong.

Of course, with the benefit of hindsight, Beast Boy knew that he’d done nothing wrong. His fingers curled over the hair clip, and anger crept into his nerves. She had wanted to say yes, but shame wouldn’t let her. Terra never wanted to spy on the Titans; not really. It was Slade. He’d come to her when she was vulnerable, when she was certain that no one else knew what she had endured. He offered her control, the one thing she thought she needed. Yet, with the Titans, she had found something else, the one thing she truly wanted: family. The whole ordeal had torn her in two. 

She had said yes in the end, though; rather, she had come to him. She’d appeared out of nowhere, hovering outside his bedroom window. He turned his chair to look towards it now. It had been open then.

“You wanna go out?” she’d asked. Of course he’d said yes. He’d practically jumped out the window to stand on the boulder with her. She’d offered him her hand, and he took it. Then they were off. For the next several hours, Beast Boy had the time of his life. It had just been him and Terra, alone in a world that belonged to them. Even now, knowing that Slade’s legion had attacked Titans Tower while he was away, Beast Boy did not regret that night.

The darkness swelled as his mind came to the night's end. He remembered sitting in the Ferris wheel with Terra, talking about how much fun the night had been. 

“Beast Boy,” Terra had whispered with pain in her eyes, “If you knew something bad about me, would you still be my friend?”

Beast Boy held the hair clip against the cold skin of his forehead. Terra had tried to tell him what she had done. It was tearing her apart, and all she wanted was to be free of that pain. Slade hadn’t given her the chance. He had been there with them in the Ferris Wheel. Beast Boy had been ready to hear her out, and Terra had been ready to tell all. He had leaned in for a kiss, and she had done the same. Slade took that from them.

When the truth came out, it had come from Slade’s lips, not Terra’s. Slade was smart. He knew that if Terra had a chance to explain herself, Beast Boy would have forgiven her. She would have turned on him, then and there, and returned to Titans Tower with Beast Boy. She would have had a lot of explaining to do, and trust to regain, but nothing had been done that could not be resolved yet. Slade would never allow that to happen.

It was his poisoned version of the story that Beast Boy heard instead. 

“You think you know her?” the villain had taunted. “You know nothing. She never even liked you.”

No . . .

“She’s not your friend. She’s my apprentice.”

You’re lying . . .

“The girl you knew was merely an illusion, a fantasy. In reality, she’s been working for me.”

“That’s a lie!” Beast Boy had shouted.

“I found her. I trained her to control her impressive powers, and then I sent her to destroy your little team from the inside out.”

Beast Boy had felt as empty then as he did now. His best friend, the girl he cared for more than anyone, had betrayed him. She had betrayed his friends. At that very moment, their lives were in danger because of her. He’d filled the void left by Slade’s words with rage.  Then Beast Boy found her, crying on the floor, surrounded by her own reflection.

“Beast Boy,” she wept, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Then why did you let it?” he demanded, standing over her. His shadow fell across her weeping form, enveloping her in darkness.

“I don’t. . . I don’t know,” she answered, quivering as she tried to find the words. “Slade helped me. He saved me from myself. He said I owed him, but-”

“So it was all a game?” Beast Boy growled. “You were just pretending?”

“No,” Terra answered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You said. . . you said you’d be my friend no matter what, remember?”

Stop , Beast Boy thought, coming back to the present. He hated Slade for the villain’s part in taking Terra away from the Titans. Yet, Slade was not the only one to blame. Beast Boy opened his eyes. His reflection in the mirror above his desk looked back. He tried to fight it, but the reverie did not stop. It finished, playing in his head like a movie with a tragic ending.

Beast Boy saw himself again, standing there with Terra in the darkness. He saw himself turn his back to her. She reached out for him, eyes wild with desperation, but he was already walking away.

“Slade was right. You don’t have any friends.”

Crash!

Beast Boy opened his eyes. The mirror was shattered. He had changed shape, and his gorilla paw had reduced the mirror to shards. He changed back, staring angrily into the fractured pieces of glass.

“Why?” he asked. “Why would you say that?” 

The glass did not answer. Beast Boy slumped back in the chair. He sighed. What was done could not be undone. The only comfort for him was the knowledge that Terra was alive. He had seen her among the crowds as the Titans battled a monster. He had spoken to her. It was her, there was no doubt about that.

Yet, it wasn’t her. She called herself Ashley now. Beast Boy smiled. It was a pretty name, but she would always be Terra to him. She had left the life of adventure behind. She was no villain anymore. She was no hero anymore. She was just Ashley, the schoolgirl.

“Things change, Beast Boy,” she’d told him in the hallway of Murakami School. 

He knew she was right. He wanted to be happy for her. He’d tried. Yet, the darkness was persistent. Every smile, every positive thought, every attempt to push the memories down. . . only made the darkness stronger.

Things change. Beast Boy knew that. No matter how hard he tried, however, he couldn’t help but hope that some things weren’t meant to change.

Chapter Text

“You sure you don’t want to ride the bus with us?”

Ashley nodded, much to her friends’ dismay.

“Nothing personal, guys,” she said, waving as they boarded the school bus. “I’m just. . . well. . . I’ve got some stuff going on, and I thought maybe I’d walk home by myself.”

Her friends looked at one another with arched eyebrows. They shrugged.

“See you Monday, Ashley,” they said.

“See ya,” Ashley replied, letting her hand fall. She kept her eyes on the bus as it pulled away, out of the school lot and into the street. Soon, it joined the bustling traffic. Then it was gone. Ashley took a deep breath in through her nose. She held it, the way one might hold one’s breath to dispel hiccups. 

One. . . two. . . three. . . four. . . five. . . six. . . seven. . . eight. . . nine. . . ten.  

Ashley let the breath go, feeling the cool rush of air escaping past her lips. Vigor washed over her lungs, and peace washed over her mind. She’d stayed up way too late two nights ago, watching a movie and eating pizza with some of the other girls from the Johnson Home. Rest was important, and sleeping on an overstuffed belly seldom came without consequences. 

That was all the incident from yesterday morning was. There was no shadow, just too much marinara before bed. The shadow man was just a distant memory, as ancient as the Greek kings whose names she needed to study for the big test on Thursday. The Teen Titans were the protectors of Jump City; that was all. They were far too busy to be interested in her, and she had nothing to do with them. After all, why would she? She was just Ashley, the girl who occasionally stayed up late watching movies and eating pizza when she ought to be doing homework.

Ashley made her way down the sidewalk, holding her textbooks close to her chest. She looked from one side of the street to the other, reading the names of shops, diners, and cafes with a serene smile on her face. She had always meant to visit the little café with the green door and the tiny wooden animals in the window. The sign out front boasted that they served the best pecan pie in the country. Ashley loved pie.

For now, she already had a destination in mind. There was a place she always went when she needed time, a duck pond near city hall.

Once upon a time, she had gone to the lake at the edge of town to think. That was another lifetime, of course. These days, she kept her distance from there. The last time she'd gone there had been the night that Beast Boy came back into her life.

Ashley sighed. He’d found her, hanging out with her friends, and asked her if she wanted to get a pizza. She’d wanted to say no. She wasn’t Terra anymore; she’d buried Terra, and Beast Boy wanted to dig her back up. Her breakdown in the alley upon seeing the Titans again had been a moment of weakness, nothing more.

Yet, seeing him up close had softened her heart. She had been his best friend, and he had been hers. He’d thought she was dead. She had decided that it would be cruel to deny him closure. So she had gone with him. They had gotten pizza, and he’d told her stories of his adventures.

“. . . and then, we pushed The Brain in the freezer,” he finished. She’d laughed.

“Brain freeze. That’s funny.”

Beast Boy looked at her with his big, adorable eyes.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Terra.”

Her expression had changed. What had been a smile melted into a sad frown.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she asked. 

“Because,” Beast Boy had answered, “you’re Terra.”

“What makes you so sure?” she’d countered.

“You look like her, you talk like her, you laugh like her,” he replied. His words were fast; she could see the excitement in his eyes. “Don’t you remember anything from before?”

Too much, she’d thought, looking away. Every time I close my eyes, I remember. I just want away from it.

“I just remember high school,” she said at last, clenching her fist to keep control of her emotions.

She wanted to hide her face. It felt like the more closure she gave Beast Boy, the more shame she unearthed for herself. Why did he still care so much for her? Had she not put him through enough already? She wanted to run, but where could she go?

“Why would you want to be friends with someone who was so much trouble?”

“Because I know who she really is.”

The words hit her like a bag of bricks. Her betrayal, her cruel words, her terrible deeds. . . none of them mattered to him. But how could that be? Their weight had nearly crushed her, and the only way she could breath was to shut them out. 

So, she'd tried to run away. She may not have been a great superhero, but she had a power that no one else knew about. She could outrun any problem, if she just ran far enough.

Beast Boy was persistent, though; it was one of his most appealing qualities. No matter how many times he got knocked down, he would always get right back up. He had been the first person to ever inspire her to stand, instead of running. It was what made him a great Titan, and a great friend. This time, though, she wished he would just stay down. 

Before she knew it, she had agreed to go with him to Titans Tower.

“Wow,” she exclaimed in awe as they entered the Tower. The ignorance was feigned, but the awe was real; they had changed the place up quite a bit since the last time she’d been here. “This is cool. Must be nice to live here.” The last part had come out a little more wistfully than she’d intended, but she couldn’t help it. Titans Tower was a lot nicer than the Johnson Home.

He’d taken her to see her old room. The guilt struck like a searing iron; she grabbed at her right arm as Beast Boy spoke, trying her best to conceal her nerves. They had made this room just for her. It was the kindest thing anyone had done for her in her entire life, and she had repaid them by spying for Slade. She could have stopped at any time, told the villain to go straight to hell. What could he have done? She was stronger then, and she had the Titans on her side. 

It was history now. She'd missed her chance, and chosen to run.

“Stars,” Beast Boy said, pointing to the painted ceiling, “because you like to sleep outside.”

“Not me, I hate camping out,” she lied. “Too many bugs.”

Her eyes swept over the room, coming to light on the little table in the center.

Oh, no. . .

She’d found herself walking involuntarily, reaching out for what lay there. It was the box, the heart-shaped mirror box.

“I made that for you,” Beast Boy explained, beaming proudly. “Remember, Terra?”

“It’s cute,” she replied. “Listen, I’ve really got to go.”

They left the Tower. Beast Boy walked her out, where they lingered for a moment by the rocky shore of the lake. Ashley stood, watching the waves come further and further up the shore. She stared into the crystal clear water, gazing at her reflection. As Beast Boy joined her by the shore, she saw his reflection next to her own. He was the Titan. She was just a girl in a school uniform. She was Ashley. The Titan was behind her.

“Maybe your friend is out there somewhere,” she whispered, looking at the red light of the sinking sun. “I hope you find her.”

“I already have,” Beast Boy insisted. He plucked a stone from the ground and flung it out over the lake. It skipped one, two, three, four times. She’d wanted to smile. He’d been practicing. He held a second stone out to her. She looked at him sadly; her resolve was waning. She wanted to reach out and take it. She might have stayed there all night, skipping stones across the lake with Beast Boy. She felt like she was sinking, just like Beast Boy’s stone.

“Beast Boy. . .”

“Come on,” Beast Boy groaned. “You’ve got to remember. Something. Anything!”

Ashley shook her head sadly. She did remember; she’d never forgotten. She wanted to, though, and despite the aching in her spirit at seeing Beast Boy so desperate, she wished that it would end.

All of a sudden, Beast Boy stooped down. Ashley watched him with a wary gaze. When he straightened up, he proudly held a large ball of mud in his hand.

“You can move the earth,” he announced. Ashley's eyes widened, and she tried to move, but he was too quick. She stood there, shocked, with a face-full of mud.

“Why did you do that?” she yelled angrily. Secretly, she was relieved. This was the chance she'd been waiting for, and she took it. She turned, storming off into the night. 

“Terra, I’m sorry!” Beast Boy cried, running after her. “Maybe you need more time to remember how to use your powers! Come back! I’ll help you!”

You can’t help me , she’d thought as she ran. No one can.

Ashley took a deep breath, coming back to the present. She’d reached her destination. Before her sprawled a sparkling pond with a huge fountain spewing water in the middle. Ducks and swans waded on the surface, waiting to be fed by the passers-by. Tomorrow, this place would be packed. Ashley smirked. It was 3:45 on a Friday afternoon. She had the whole place to herself. 

“Alone at last.”

With a skip in her stride, Ashley made her way over to the little kiosk on the edge of the pond. There, an old man with a big mustache and a fisherman’s cap smiled and waved.

“Good afternoon, Darlin’,” he greeted her knowingly. “What can I do for you on this fine Friday?”

“Hi, Harold,” Ashley giggled. “Just one, please.” She slipped three quarters across the counter. The old vendor pressed a paper bag into her hands with a wink.

“The little ones are hungry today,” he whispered. “Good thing you showed up. You’re a real lifesaver, you know.”

“Always happy to do a little good,” she replied. Ashley wound her way down the little stone path to the water’s edge. She plopped herself down on a metal bench and opened the paper bag. It was full of cracked corn. She scooped out a handful of the yellow crumbles and flung it onto the pond’s surface. A whole family of ducks came closer: the mother duck, a mallard, and six adorable, fuzzy ducklings. Ashley smiled as she watched the ducklings peck at the corn.  They were so small, and their down was so bright and yellow.

Just then, one of the swans started swimming in their direction. Ashley tensed. On the outside, swans were beautiful birds. They looked so graceful, regal, and charismatic, it was hard to think they might be anything else.

Ashley knew better. She had seen for herself what happened when a swan got a hold of a duckling. The swan was getting close; its eyes were fixed on one of the tiny birds, shut out of the feeding frenzy by the others. If it didn’t take cover with the rest soon. . .

Ashley sprang into action. She jumped up from her bench and seized a small stone from the shore of the lake. Ashley closed one eye, lining up a shot on the approaching swan. The little duckling knew it was in danger now. It tried to swim, to put distance between itself and its pursuer, but it was no use.

Ashley let the stone fly. It sailed over the bank, past the duckling, and struck the approaching swan right on the tip of its beak. The swan honked loudly, whipping the water into a foaming frenzy with its wings. It retreated, leaving the duckling alone.

Ashley stood there, watching the swan retreat. She realized that she was breathing very heavily, and took a few deep breaths through the nose to settle down. Some of her amber hair had fallen into her eyes. She flicked it away with a fingertip, blinking rapidly. Her eyes flicked to the lone duckling. It was safe now, and no longer alone. It squawked happily alongside the other ducklings, gobbling up bits of cracked corn.

“Well, that was impressive.”

Ashley turned to see Harold, the vendor, looking on from the vending kiosk. 

“Never seen anybody wallop one o’ the swans like that,” he praised. “Didn’t know you had that in you.” Ashley blushed, gripping her right arm nervously.

“Just. . . keeping the ducklings safe,” she managed.

“Aye,” Harold replied, nodding his approval. “S’pose there’s a hero in all of us, eh?”

Ashley said nothing. Slowly, she turned. She scooped up the bag of cracked corn and returned to her bench. By itself, the little amber duckling was vulnerable. Alone, it was an easy target for a swan. It was weak, immature; it couldn't fight back. Without the safety of the group, all it could do was swim away and hope the swan wasn't faster. As she tossed another handful of the treats to the splashing ducklings, she kept both eyes on the retreating swan. 

The swan watched her back. It looked at her from the side, fixing her with a single glaring eye. She held its glare, and returned it with one of her own. As she did, however, a painful truth echoed through the dark chambers of her psyche.

She couldn't stay here forever. Sooner or later, the duckling would be alone.

Chapter Text

It was half past noon when Beast Boy pushed open the door and stumbled out of his room. He’d managed to pull a soiled T-shirt over his head, and was wearing a mostly clean pair of sweatpants. He probably didn’t smell very appealing, but at least it was better than walking around naked. In beast form, that wouldn’t be a problem, but it hadn’t gone well for him any of the times he’d tried it in human form.

“Hey, buddy.”

The unmanly shriek that erupted from Beast Boy’s mouth scared him almost as much as the unexpected voice. He whirled around to see Raven standing there, watching him from the shadows of her hood.

“Dude!” Beast Boy exclaimed, his heart racing. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Rae.”

“Wasn’t trying to,” she answered, lowering her hood. “Just on my way to the roof to meditate.”

“Right,” said Beast Boy. He tried looking Raven in the eye, but her glowering intensity was. . . well, too intense. He ended up awkwardly staring at her shoes. “Don’t let me stop you, then.”

“Actually,” Raven replied, “I was hoping you would join me.”

That one took a few moments to process.

“Join you?” Beast Boy asked. “On the roof? To meditate?”

“If you’re just going to repeat everything I say,” Raven said, looking unamused, “I’ll go alone.” With a swirl of her cloak, the sorceress turned her back and began to float down the hall. Beast Boy watched her go like a man stranded on an island might watch a helicopter fly overhead.

“Raven, wait!” he called. Beast Boy morphed into a jackrabbit and took off down the hall after her. He caught up in just a few bounds, where he assumed his original shape. “I’m sorry. . . you just. . . well, you’ve never asked me to meditate with you before.”

Raven didn’t answer right away. She floated silently at his side as he walked with her to the stairwell.

“Something’s been upsetting you lately,” she said at last as they climbed the last steps to the roof. “You’ve been more standoffish than I am. That’s not normal for you.”

Beast Boy felt his cheeks flush. 

“You, uh. . . you noticed?”

“I notice a lot,” Raven corrected. She sat down on the rooftop, cross-legged. “You wanna talk about it?”

Beast Boy looked into the face of his friend. Though Raven’s expression lacked none of her typical stoicism, there was something else there. Her unblinking eyes were just barely able to conceal it. Yet, Beast Boy knew his friends, and he knew that behind Raven’s eyes lurked genuine concern. 

Beast Boy looked away, at nothing in particular. In fact, his eyes lost focus as the world around him started to buzz and spin. Words pounded against his vocal chords, demanding to be set free. Yet, he knew that the moment he tried to speak, he would lose his composure. The tears would come. He couldn’t cry in front of Raven; he would never live it down.

“I. . .” Beast Boy sighed. He dabbed at his eye with the back of his hand.

“You okay?” Raven asked.

“No, I'm not,” Beast Boy replied, forcing his voice out. “When I’m asleep, I get no rest, but I’m still afraid to wake up. When I do wake up, I feel like I’m walking knee-deep in mud. It. . . it hurts, and it doesn’t stop.”

Raven’s eyes softened as she listened.

“Terra,” she whispered.

“I. . . I miss her. So. . . so much,” Beast Boy choked. He looked into Raven’s eyes, then quickly looked away. “I see her. . . I see the cavern in my dreams. And when I see. . . Slade. . . I just. . .” Beast Boy curled his fingers, which morphed into deadly feline claws. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kill anyone before. . .”

Raven reached out, putting her hand on Beast Boy’s shoulder.

“If anyone ever deserved that kind of end,” she told him, “it’s Slade.”

“That’s not the point!” Beast Boy protested. “Terra’s out there, acting like she doesn’t even know me, because of what Slade did to her. He got inside her head and made her think things she didn’t want to. And now. . . ” Beast Boy cringed as bitter tears slid down his cheeks. “I’m not like that, Rae. I’m not a killer, but I want to hunt him down and end him. He’s doing the same thing to me that he did to Terra, and he’s not even trying.”

Beast Boy hung his head, feeling the teardrops run down his face and into his lap. "It's not just him, either. It's. . . me. She came to me, alone, vulnerable as a newborn kitten. She tried to tell me. . . she wanted to stop him. But, I didn't listen. I. . . I let that monster's words cloud my judgement. . ."

He hung his head, pressing his lips together as the tears continued to run. "I turned my back on my friend, Rae. I'm just as responsible as Slade."

Neither of them said anything for a little while. Raven’s hand stayed on his shoulder; her presence helped to soothe his sadness. Yet he could feel the darkness swelling once again, and he feared there was little he could do to keep it at bay.

“I miss her, too,” Raven whispered. Beast Boy looked over at his friend. Her eyes shone with emotion, which they did not often do. Raven took great care to exercise control over her feelings; whatever she was feeling must have been very, very strong if it showed so clearly on her face.

“When we fought,” she began, “I told her that I always knew she was a liar. That wasn’t true.” Raven paused, taking a breath. “When we found her, she was alone. I was alone once, too. We all were.”

“What are you saying?” Beast Boy asked.

“I’m saying I saw myself in Terra,” Raven answered. “We all did. She was just like me; lost, cursed with a power that ruled her destiny. It frightened me, but it’s also why we welcomed her. It’s why Slade used her. Terra was always one of us, even at her worst.”

“Rae,” Beast Boy replied, dumbfounded, “I had. . . I had no idea.”

Raven didn’t answer. Instead, she turned, looking out over the sprawling city skyline.

“I’d say it’s for the best. She’s out there, right now, living an ordinary life. I’d say she’s better off going to school, having normal friends, doing what everyone else is doing.” Raven raised her hood. “But I won’t say that, because it’s a load of crap.”

Beast Boy walked over to stand next to his friend. She looked at him. He saw concern in her eyes again, but not for him. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean,” Raven answered, “that I know just as well as you do what happens when we try to run away from our problems. Sooner or later, bad things happen.”

Raven gazed out over the city once more. She reached out, took Beast Boy’s hand in her own. He jumped a little, but didn’t withdraw. For so long, he’d been keeping his distance from his friends. Raven had always been the same way. It felt peaceful, holding her hand. It was barely past midday, yet the darkness was still strong. Her touch was a candlelight, pushing back against the darkness, washing him in hope’s radiant glow.

“You don’t have to face yours alone, Gar,” Raven whispered, squeezing Beast Boy’s hand. “For Terra’s sake, I hope she figures out that she doesn't have to, either.”

Chapter Text

Coming back from the dead really tends to put one’s life into perspective. As he stalked through the darkened streets of Gotham City, Slade Wilson reflected on this truth. A little over a year ago, Slade had been a man with many plans. Now, he had only one goal. He’d been drawing these plans ever since his return to life, and most of the pieces were now in place. It was time to move.

Something caught the former mercenary’s ear as he skulked through the shadows. He stopped, looking over his shoulder, keeping himself shrouded in darkness. Slade had to be careful; he wasn’t the only creature of the night roaming these streets.

He had tangled with the Bat before. Sometimes he lost, sometimes he won. As a general rule of thumb, he preferred not to cross his old foe’s path at all. However, he was a man on a mission. There was business to be done in Gotham tonight, of the important variety. If he was successful, it would be well worth the risk.

Thoughts of the Batman turned Slade’s mind to days long past. The mercenary had never been terribly fond of Gotham, yet fate had a way of always bringing him back here. The last time he’d been in the city, he’d learned that the Batman’s loyal apprentice was no longer quite so loyal. At the time, he’d never met the boy in person, but he’d heard the stories. The idea of a young, skilled protégé freshly in need of a new master had intrigued him. Thus began his storied rivalry with the Boy Wonder, and the Teen Titans.

It was nostalgic, being back in Gotham. Slade banished the thoughts from his mind. He hated nostalgia. It distracted from the present, and his laser focus would be required if he was to arrive at his destination undetected. He was close now. Very close.

The old scrapyard outside the city limits was his destination. He could see the dilapidated wire fence up ahead. Slade popped his knuckles, disappointed. Part of him had hoped that getting here would be a challenge. Yet, his wiser side was glad for the simplicity. There was no sense in hoping for delay. 

A bound and a vault later, Slade stood on the other side of the fence. His eye flicked over every inch of his surroundings, scanning with mechanical precision. It was here, somewhere. A long sheet of corrugated steel in the distance caught his attention, and he started walking. There were pock-holes in the steel, wounds in the metal that didn’t belong. Rust might do this sort of damage, but not to industrial steel. Curiously, he ran his hand over the markings. Finally, another deformity in the metal’s surface confirmed his suspicions. Two letters, barely noticeable to the trained eye, let alone the untrained: J. C. He was in the right place.

Slade seized the sheet of steel with both hands and pried. With some difficulty, he managed to slide it back over the towering pile of detritus. There, beneath the scrap, was a hatch. Slade took hold of the handle and pulled. The hatch door popped open, letting out a sickly green light into the night. Slade resisted the urge to gag as an acrid chemical odor snaked its way inside his mask. He was definitely in the right place.

Slade jumped, feet first, down the hatch. As his boots made contact with the ground, after a twenty-foot drop, he heard a metallic click. His body went into evasion mode, and he sidestepped a swirling bola at the last second. It hit the dirt wall behind him with a crack. Slade narrowed his eye. He was in an underground atrium, stocked full of equipment. Flasks, burners, freezers. . . it was an underground chemistry lab, and it reeked of a familiar stench. From the other side of the atrium, a loathsome voice greeted him.

“Slade Wilson,” rasped the voice. “Been a while. Forgive my home security system, but I’d heard you died.”

“You heard wrong, Crane,” Slade spat, making his way across the laboratory. “I’m not the kind of man who dies.”

“Is that so?” the figure asked, stepping into the light. He was a frail figure, dressed in burlap and straw. His costume evoked the image of a traditional scarecrow; that also happened to be his chosen moniker. “What could a man like that possibly need from me?”

“What we discussed,” Slade answered, glaring at the deranged chemist. The Scarecrow folded his hands over his chest. Clearly, he wasn’t amused by Slade’s directness. Fortunately, Slade cared little for the Scarecrow’s amusement. “I trust it’s ready?”

The Scarecrow shuffled away to a workbench in the corner. He picked up a small metallic box and a tool that looked like the tongs from a demon’s kitchen. The Scarecrow moved over to one of the freezers. He opened it, letting out a loud hiss as icy vapor met the external air. With the tongs, he carefully withdrew a cluster of vials. Inside them glowed a sinister-looking green fluid. He quickly sealed the vials inside the metallic box. The sickly-green light still glowed through the metal casing.

“Five hundred thousand milligrams of my special brew,” the crook cackled. “Modified to also affect sleeping subjects, as requested.” Beneath his burlap mask, the Scarecrow grinned wickedly. “So, what exactly are you planning to do with it?”

“Take it from you,” Slade answered, snatching the box away from the chemist, “and wire the agreed-upon payment to your offshore account. You will find that the latter has already been done.”

“You’re an efficient man, Wilson,” the Scarecrow mused, scraping his metallic claws together. “Shame you don’t play with us anymore.”

“I never play, and there was never an us.”

Slade flicked his wrist. A small metallic disk flew from his hand and stuck to the atrium wall. The Scarecrow turned his head to look, confusion apparent on his face. Another flew from Slade’s hand, planting itself on the opposite wall.

“What are you doing?” the Scarecrow demanded, his voice awash with apprehension.

“Leaving,” Slade answered as he bounded up the ladder. “Farewell, Crane.” The discs began to beep, slowly at first, then much faster.

“No!” Crane exclaimed. He tore after Slade, but the mercenary was expecting that. He turned as the Scarecrow leapt for him and kicked. The frail chemist fell, landing on his back with a thud.

“Don’t get up,” Slade said, looking down on his former colleague with disdain. “I’ll see myself out.”

The pile of scrap metal and detritus exploded with a burst of flame and shrapnel. It collapsed in on itself, burying the hidden chemistry lab in refuse. Slade surveyed the destruction with clinical satisfaction. One less loose end. His tracks were well covered.

The villain turned to go, clutching the cold box of fear toxin to his side. Things would proceed as planned.

Chapter Text

Ashley, truth be told, was expecting a quiet Friday night. The sun was already dipping below the horizon as she started for home. She held onto her backpack straps as she walked, smiling faintly, watching the sun set. The ducklings were safe, and she was content. 

Thus, it came as quite the surprise when she returned to her dorm room to find her roommate, and her two suitemates, giggling and talking in her room. Pop music played from the little radio in the corner as Michelle, her roommate, used her mirror to put on makeup. Talia and Clara, her suitemates, were sitting on Michelle’s bed as Talia braided Clara’s hair. The girls, Ashley couldn’t help but notice, were dressed for a night out.

“Uh. . . hey, guys,” Ashley muttered as she pushed open the door and walked into the room. “You got plans?”

“Duh! It’s Friday night,” Michelle replied, looking over her shoulder. “You didn’t think we were going to stay cooped up here all night, did you, Ash?”

“Well. . .” Ashley answered, unsure how to answer. “I was thinking more along the lines of pizza and a rental movie.”

“We did that already!” Talia protested.

“Wednesday night,” Clara added. “And anyway, didn’t you feel kind of off the next morning?”

“Oh, Ash is always feeling off,” Michelle snickered, walking over and jabbing her in the arm, “ever since that Teen Titan started flirting with her!”

The other girls squealed with amusement. Ashley felt her face melt into a furrowed scowl.

“Guys. . .” she groaned.

“Come on, Ash,” Michelle replied with a mock pouty-face. “You know he’s cute! Which one was he again?”

“Not Robin,” Talia hissed, making her hand into a claw, which she swiped dramatically through the air in front of her. “He’s mine.”

“He’s the green one,” Clara piped up, twirling her hair-brush like a baton. “The one who turns into animals. Animal Man, or-”

“His name,” Ashley murmured, “is Beast Boy.”

“Beast Boy!” Michelle exclaimed. She put both hands over chest, pumping them back and forth to simulate a throbbing heart. “Ashley’s got the hots for a superhero!”

“I do not,” Ashley scoffed, crossing over to her desk and slinging her backpack over the chair. “He’s just an. . . incidental acquaintance.”

“Incidental acquaintance,” Talia repeated, making quote marks with her hands. “Didn’t the two of you go on a date and everything?”

Invisible fumes of annoyance rose from the top of Ashley’s head.

“It wasn’t a date,” she huffed, for the umpteenth time. “We just ordered a pizza, and then he showed me his house. That’s all.”

“Sounds like a date to me,” Clara giggled. 

Ashley sighed, letting her face fall. It wasn’t. It can’t be. Ever.

A hush fell over the girls like a shadow as they realized that Ashley did not share their amusement. The three of them held a silent, rapid-fire conversation using only their eyes. Then, Michelle stepped up.

“Hey, cheer up, Ash,” the girl said. “We got you something.” Ashley turned to face Michelle, a look of concern blooming across her face.

“Why?” she asked flatly.

“That’s what friends do,” Talia answered. The girls presented Ashley with a red bag, brimming with matching gift paper. Ashley furrowed her brow curiously, looking at the bag unsure eyes.

“Guys. . . what is this?” she asked, voice laden with apprehension.

“Open it and find out!” Clara answered. Cautiously, Ashley reached for the bag. Taking hold of the tissue paper with her thumb and forefinger, she gently pulled it away. She looked inside the bag, and gasped.

“Oh. . . wow.”

Inside the bag, neatly folded, were two articles of clothing. She reached inside and removed them both, one at a time. The first was a sleeveless denim jacket. Ashley loved the sturdiness of denim, and the fabric was comfortably cool in her hands. The brass buttons sparkled with little inlaid rhinestones that reflected the light. Ashley hadn’t owned anything quite this nice for many years.

“I don’t know what to say,” Ashley stammered. “This is so cool.”

“Don’t say anything just yet,” Michelle chuckled. “You’re only halfway there.”

The second item was even more breathtaking than the first. Ashley’s hands came out of the bag with a glittering red dress. Red was her favorite, and the dress was gorgeous. It was modestly cut, with a high neck and a skirt that hung just past the knees. Sequins sparkled along its length, and the material was loose and wavy, perfect for twirling. Ashley was dumbstruck. 

“It’s. . . it’s beautiful,” she managed. “You guys didn’t have to. . .”

“Of course we didn’t!” Talia relied.

“We wanted to,” Clara added.

“We’ve been planning tonight for weeks,” said Michelle. “Thought we’d help you get your glow on. Speaking of, you should probably get changed. Mashoney’s is going to be packed tonight, and we wanted to get there before the rush.”

“Mashoney’s?” Ashley repeated with wide eyes. “The dance club?”

“The one and only,” Michelle replied, ushering Ashley towards the bathroom. “Now go! Put them on! Go, go, go, go, go!”

A quick change and a short car ride later, courtesy of one of Michelle’s senior friends, the four girls stood in front of Mashoney’s. Although Jump City had no shortage of lights, the dance club was one of the most colorful places Ashley had ever seen. Strands of blinking lights were wrapped around the arches and doors like Christmas decor. Searchlights waved back and forth overhead, and the oversized neon sign changed from blue to green to red and back every few seconds. Lively music spilled out through the doors from the inside, and the pleasing aromas of food and beverages wafted past Ashley’s nose. She stood in line with her friends, hands buried in the pockets of her denim jacket, hips swaying back and forth to make her skirt twirl, and enjoyed the atmosphere. 

This was new to her. Of course, she had been to many places like this over the years. She had darkened the doorways of many different establishments in her life as a drifter. Yet that was another lifetime. It was hard to remember back that far now. Her slumber beneath the earth had darkened her memories; only the most recent were spared. Day by day, more were unearthed, though she wanted nothing more than for them to stay buried.

But this she enjoyed. The snippets of nostalgia that the club atmosphere provided were like an oasis in a massive desert, or a breath of fresh air in a cloud of smoke. It was a pocket of safety, and her initial apprehension was waning rapidly. Soon, the four girls were inside, surrounded by lights, food, and music. She watched from the sidelines with a bemused smile as her friends danced. She watched as they swirled and swayed in time with the music, letting the rhythm carry them away. They danced like tomorrow would never come.

“Ash!” Michelle called from the dance floor. “Get in here!”

She froze. They beckoned, but she made no move to join them. An unknown force from deep within locked her limbs in place. Those three girls, her dorm sisters, were free. They had never known bondage. They had nothing to hide from. Ashley loved dancing, and she wanted nothing more than to join them on the dance floor to rock the night away. Yet, something felt wrong, out of place, teetering on the precipice of something awful. Ashley felt exposed, like a lone duckling in the path of an angry swan. She had no idea what her next move should be.

Balling her fists against the shadows that billowed behind her eyes, Ashley made her choice. The song was changing. With a soft grin, she took a single step out. A second step followed, and her grin cracked all the wider. Was she really doing it? The beat hopped gently, filling her with a lively energy. Her heart fluttered frantically in her chest, and she felt her skin prickle into goosebumps. The third step came, and then the fourth and fifth. She was going to do it. Her next move would not be determined by her survival instincts. Tonight, it would be determined by the music.

“She’s coming,” Clara whispered, clapping her hands together with glee. Michelle and Talia exchanged grins of their own, standing aside at Ashley’s approach to the dance floor. She felt eyes on her, but tonight, that would be the idea. All eyes were on her, and at the same time, none were. Her own eyes closed, and her ears perked up as the song began.

“ Come on, come on, turn the radio on, it’s Friday night, and it won’t be long. Gotta do my hair, put my makeup on, it’s Friday night and it won’t be long ‘til I hit the dance floor. . . ”

Ashley stood on the dance floor, eyes closed, and let the music sink in. She raised her arms and began to sway, moving her feet and arms in time. At first, her movements were reserved, strangled by what remained of the exposed feeling. She kept her eyes closed; if there were shadows here, she would not look at them. Instead she pushed back, letting the music take control. She felt a surge of pleasure rise within her chest, like a deep breath of the purest oxygen. Ashley’s grin widened into a smile as her movements grew more pronounced. She pumped her arms, wiggled her hips, and hopped from foot to foot with the rhythm. Ashley laughed. She felt lighter than a feather as she danced across the floor. Occasionally she felt her fingers or heels accidentally brush against someone. She didn’t care. She just kept dancing, leaping, and twirling, all with an elated smile on her face. 

When at last the song ended, she opened her eyes to find all four of her dorm sisters throwing their arms around her and giggling. She laughed with them, and returned their group embrace with a contented sigh. 

“That was incredible, Ash!”

“I didn’t know you could move like that!”

“Way to tear up the floor!”

Ashley smiled.

“Thanks, guys,” she whispered. “It. . . it was fun.”

They stayed there, the four of them, sharing the moment. A few people were staring, but Ashley didn’t mind. She felt safer than she had in a very long time. Perhaps, at last, her metamorphosis was complete. Perhaps this was what normal felt like.

The music stopped, and the girls looked up. Lights flashed around the DJ’s booth, and smoke billowed from fog machines.

“ARE WE HAVING FUN TONIGHT, MASHONEY’S?” the DJ called into his microphone. A wave of affirming shouts went up from the crowd.

“Woohoo!” the dorm sisters cried.

“Rock on!” Ashley called.

“That’s what I like to hear!” the DJ called. “Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for a very special showdown. It’s time for Friday Night Foot Fight!”

The crowd went wild with applause, whistles and shouts. The dorm sisters echoed their approval. Ashley looked around, confused. This was her first time at Mashoney’s with them; whatever Friday Night Foot Fight was, she didn’t know. The DJ moved his spotlight to point at a little platform on the other side of the club. The stage was covered with two curtains, dividing it into halves.

“Ladies and gentlemen, two volunteers have been chosen at random from tonight’s crowd. Each contender will have one minute to show us what they got. It may be called Foot Fight, but each contender will be judged for their footwork, stage presence, style, and anything else the judges find worthy of adulation. And who are the judges for tonight’s event?”

The DJ turned his microphone and held it out to the crowd.

“WE ARE!” came the reply.

“That’s riiiiiiight!” the DJ bellowed back. Ashley looked at her dorm sisters with an excited grin, which they returned. This was going to be fun. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, please turn your lovely faces to the battle stage, and prepare to judge tonight’s FRIDAY NIGHT FOOT FIGHT!”

The lights dimmed, and more fog billowed from the fog machines around the stage. Ashley and her friends hurried forward, scurrying for a better vantage point. They were close to the front of the crowd now, barely ten feet from the stage. Ashley could see it clearly from where she stood, and she waited for the first contender to be revealed. The spotlight brightened as the curtain rose.

Ashley gasped. She recoiled as if slapped, unsure if her eyes were processing what they saw correctly. The first contender stood on one side of the stage, divided from the other half by a wall of fabric. The contender wore an expression of confidence on his face, although it appeared like it might have been a tiny bit forced. For clothing he wore a purple baseball cap under a blue jacket, a pair of black sweatpants, and double-tied tennis shoes. The contender looked almost like anyone else Ashley might have seen at the dance club that night. However, he wasn’t just any dancer at a dance club.

He was Beast Boy.

Chapter Text

Of all the things that could have happened that night, getting grabbed from behind and pulled into a dark room was the last thing that Beast Boy expected. The teenage superhero strolled down one of the Tower’s many corridors, hands in his pockets, and hummed a tune he made up as he went. Though he still felt the sting of the darkness in his heart, he enjoyed a momentary feeling of optimism. Raven was largely to thank for that. They had meditated on the roof for a couple of hours. She’s shown him some breathing techniques to calm his emotions, to help him focus on looking within. It had gone well, of course, until Starfire arrived.

Beast Boy was gripped by a sudden pain as a pair of powerful arms seized him.

“Friend Beast Boy, you have emerged from your room!” Starfire’s cheerful voice cooed in his ear. “I was worried that you had become the recluse!”

“Ribs!” Beast Boy croaked as he felt his chest collapsing. “RIBS!”

“Oh,” Starfire had said as she released her hold on him. “Forgive me. My happiness at seeing you out of doors and well was uncontrollable.”

Beast Boy heaved a heavy breath. Raven chuckled as he sucked air in mouthfuls.

“I’m happy to see you too, Star.”

It was true. An unexpected warmth worked its way through his system at the sight of his friends, as it always did. He savored that warmth, cherished every moment of it, for he knew it wouldn’t last. As he made his way back to his room, Beast Boy slowed his pace. Invisible mud throttled his movements, and he let out a sigh. Already it was fading. Soon, he would be alone with the darkness again.

Beast Boy was so focused on what was to come that he altogether missed what was coming, at that very moment. He let out a muffled yelp as, for the second time that day, powerful arms seized him from behind. One wrapped itself around his arms; the second placed its large hand firmly over his mouth. He felt himself lifted off the floor, legs kicking furiously as he was carried along. He tried to morph, but something stopped him. He was in a dark room now, and the smell of oil and rust wrinkled his nose. A door slammed shut with a loud clang.

Lights flicked on with a blinding surge, and Beast Boy’s vision went blurry. His assailant still held onto him, and a second figure stood a few feet in front of him. Beast Boy squinted, trying to see through the brilliance. It was. . . Robin?

“Robin?” Beast Boy gasped through the large hand over his mouth. “Why are you-”

His assailant released at that moment, and Beast Boy whirled around angrily to see. . . Cyborg? They were in Cyborg's workshop, and his two friends moved to stand between Beast Boy and the door.

“Cy? One of you want to tell me what the HECK this is?”

Cyborg and Robin stood silently for a moment. They shared a glance, then looked back at Beast Boy with mischievous grins.

“Call it an intervention,” Cyborg replied. Seemingly from out of nowhere, Cyborg produced a hose nozzle and pointed it directly at Beast Boy. Beast Boy eyed the hose warily, backing slowly towards the wall.

“Guys. . .” he whispered, “what are you-”

He was cut off by a stream of water hitting him directly in the face. He sputtered as Cyborg continued hosing him down, grimacing at the taste of the water that got into his mouth. There was a sharp note to the liquid, like soap. Soon, the stream shut off, and Beast Boy stood soaking wet in the middle of the workshop. Cyborg and Robin looked back at him with grins of satisfaction.

“What was that?” Beast Boy demanded.

“Shower in a can,” Robin replied. 

“We ain’t taking you out smelling like a hobo.”

Beast Boy stifled the litany of venomous proclamations that rose into his mouth. 

“Taking me out?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“That’s right,” Cyborg answered, crossing his arms. “We booked a table at that fancy restaurant, the one with the vegetarian pasta you like.”

“Moretti’s?” Beast Boy asked, his eyes widening. “But it’s impossible to get a table there-”

“The reservation’s at seven,” Robin countered. “I know a guy.”

“Which means you got twenty minutes to get your butt changed into something presentable,” Cyborg added. “Make sure it’s comfy. We got a few other stops in mind after dinner.”

Beast Boy blinked.

“I don’t know, guys,” Beast Boy groaned, scratching at his left wrist. “I’m not really in the mood to-” 

“Beast Boy,” Cyborg interrupted, stepping forward, “ Garfield. You can’t go on like this.”

Beast Boy frowned. His brow softened, but he pressed his lips together tightly.

“Like what?” he asked. “I’m fine. Peachy.”

“No,” Robin replied, crossing his arms. “You’re not, and we all know it.”

“You’ve been hiding out in your room almost 24/7,” Cyborg added. “We barely see you anymore.”

“Except on missions,” Robin continued, “where you’re growing continuously more predictable and reckless.”

Beast Boy scoffed.

“I’m a little off my game. So what? It happens to the best of us.”

“You haven’t been eating regularly,” Cyborg noted. “That’s not you, and it’s definitely not healthy. You’ve practically got the metabolism of a speedster.”

“So? Stomach bug,” Beast Boy groaned. “It’ll pass! I probably just need more rest.”

Robin narrowed his. He shared a knowing glance with Cyborg. Beast Boy hated it when they did that. It was like they could talk without talking, and he hated being in the dark.

“You’ve been talking in your sleep, Gar,” Cyborg said, his voice low and sympathetic. “We know what’s eating you up inside.”

Silence. Beast Boy stood stock-still, unable to speak, barely able to think. He felt his fingers curling into fists, but not in anger. It was simply all he could do to keep himself standing up.

“We know how you feel,” Robin said, taking a step towards Beast Boy and offering a hand. “We all feel it too, from time to time.”

Beast Boy glared at Robin. He wanted to slap away the outstretched hand. Perhaps he could change into an armadillo, or maybe a crab - something with a hard shell - and run away to solitude. Yet, there was a softness in the faces of Robin and Cyborg that he had only seen a few times before. It was a softness that melted away the costumes, the fistfights, and the bravado of superhero-hood; it went deeper than that. These weren’t just his teammates. They were his brothers.

“She. . . she tried to kill us. . .” Beast Boy stammered. “She wanted to kill us. . .”

“And we wanted her dead, too,” Cyborg replied. “Any one of us could have done it right there in the streets, if she hadn’t run.”

“When she tried to talk to you during the fight,” Robin said, “and you didn’t morph back - just stayed the snarling wolf - I thought you might take her out there.”

Beast Boy hung his head. He sat down on the wet floor and rested his chin on his knees.

“I thought so, too,” he said. “If I hadn’t found her there. . . crying in the cavern. . . under his control. . . I might have.”

“Yet now, all you want is to have her back,” Cyborg replied. He lumbered over and reclined, sitting on the wet concrete floor next to Beast Boy. His mechanical arm reached out, resting on Beast Boy’s shoulders. “That’s what darkness does. It crawls its way inside you. It plays with your head, until eventually, you ain’t you no more.”

“You see things differently,” Robin added, joining them on the floor. “You make bad choices; evil choices, even. And you have to deal with the consequences of those choices. Then regret comes in, and you feel like a shell of yourself. Like someone else is wearing your skin.”

“But the someone else was you all along,” Beast Boy sighed. “There’s so many things I want to tell her. ‘I forgive you.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘I wish I had listened to your cries for help when I had the chance.’ Now I may never get that chance.”

The three were silent for a moment.

“Maybe not,” Cyborg answered. “But take a lesson from Terra. She walked in the darkness a long time. She was in deep. But in the end, she woke up. She saw the light, and that’s what matters. She threw that darkness off, and then she did what she could to atone.” 

Cyborg turned, pointing a finger in Beast Boy’s chest. “You can’t stay in your darkness, Garfield. If you do, it’ll eat you up, and you won’t even recognize the person looking back at you from the mirror.”

“Take a stand against your demons,” said Robin. “You’re the only one who can.”

Beast Boy wiped his eyes. There were tears in them, but not from sadness. A special kind of relief flooded him as he listened to the counsel of his brothers. For so long, he had felt alone in the darkness. Here, with them, there was light. Perhaps the light would fade when he was alone. But he wouldn’t let go of it easily. He was going to hold on to it for as long as he could. With a soft smile, he rose to his feet.

“I’m gonna go dry off and change,” he said. “We’ve got reservations.”

Chapter Text

Beast Boy did in fact have reservations, though they weren’t the kind one calls ahead to schedule. Since the first moment that the darkness had taken root within his spirit, he had pushed the world away. It had been some time before he had really let his friends back in; not that they had noticed right away. They were superheroes after all. They lived busy. Letting them back in, he knew, had been the right choice. The world beyond the Tower was another story. 

As Beast Boy dressed himself in attire fitting for a night out, he found himself battling those reservations. In his heart, he knew it was time. He couldn’t let himself wallow in grief forever. Too many people counted on him. Yet, as he looked at himself in what remained of his mirror, he found himself clutching his abdomen in emotional pain. It still hurt, like a kick to the gut. He breathed in deeply through his nose, driving much-needed air into his lungs.

“It’ll be okay,” he told himself under his breath as he reached for a jacket. “It’ll be okay.”

And it was. Cyborg drove masterfully, guiding the T-Car through Jump City traffic like some kind of automobile whisperer. Barely ten minutes passed from the time that the trio departed Titans Tower to the time that Cyborg reluctantly turned over the T-Car to the Moretti’s valet. Beast Boy was reluctant to enter at first, given the small crowd that was already waiting; however, Robin showed the maître d' a slip of paper, and the three young heroes were quickly brought to the front of the line. Although Beast Boy was clothed in very casual attire - a jacket, sweats, and a baseball cap - he and the other two still received quite a few ooh’s and ah’s from the dressed-to-the-nines patrons waiting in line. That lifted his spirits.

The food, of course, was excellent. Very few fine-dining establishments also boasted luxurious portion sizes, but Moretti’s was certainly one of them. Little was said during dinner, as the boys were all hungry. The Pici all’Aglione (which Beast Boy referred to as fancy spaghetti, much to the waiter’s chagrin) was delicious. The spicy blend of herbs, tomato sauce, and garlic tantalized his nose and tickled his taste buds. He had tried to make it at the Tower once, but the slop of wet noodles and sauce he’d cooked up paled in comparison to the work of a five-star chef’s hands. He was so busy smacking away at the delectable dish that he didn’t even notice the staring of the other patrons. 

Once they’d filled their bellies, the boys popped by the arcade. Pixel Power wasn’t just any arcade, of course. It was the largest arcade in all of Jump City, as well as the neighboring cities. Plus, it was the only arcade in all of Jump City that boasted one of Beast Boy’s favorite video games.

“Check your mags and watch your sixes,” Cyborg bellowed as he, Robin, and Beast Boy pointed arcade guns at a very large screen. “Get ready to step into. . .”

“AREA 47!” the three heroes shouted in unison. The high-octane sci-fi shooter was the hottest game to ever grace an arcade with its presence, and Beast Boy’s name was third from the top in the leaderboard. 

“You two ready to get obliterated?” Cyborg taunted. 

“I’ll be the one doing the obliterating,” Beast Boy called back.

“Oh, we’ll see about that!” Robin retorted as the game began, and a horde of hostile aliens descended upon them. Bullets flew, and explosions rocked the screen. With every digital casualty, Beast Boy felt his chest grow lighter. He was smiling. More than that, he was laughing. He was standing in the middle of a busy arcade with two of his best friends in the world, and he was having the time of his life. By the time the last alien fell, Beast Boy was number two on the leaderboard. He felt like he could run a marathon. Manic energy coursed through his veins, energy he’d forgotten he had. 

“Hey, I have an idea!” Beast Boy called to the others. “Let’s go dancing!”

“Dancing?” Robin asked. “Like. . . dancing dancing?”

“Just exactly how many types of dancing are there?” Cyborg asked.

“Dozens, actually,” Robin replied.

“Come on, guys!” Beast Boy begged, putting his hands together and getting down on one knee. “I’m feeling better than I have in weeks, and I’ve got to do something with all this energy or I’m gonna explode!”

“Chill out, BB,” Cyborg answered in a patronizingly soothing tone. “We’ll go dancing. Robin, what’s the name of that rave club over by the duck pond?”

“Mashoney’s,” Robin replied. “I’ve been there a few times.”

Cyborg and Beast Boy blinked. “So, you do dance?”

“I was undercover,” Robin scoffed. “Are we going or what?”

So the three young heroes loaded up into the T-Car and headed for Mashoney’s. To say that the rave club was bright would have been a criminal understatement. Strung lights blinked, searchlights flashed, and the neon sign reading “Mashoney’s” turned every color Beast Boy could imagine. However, despite the promising presentation of the club, Beast Boy’s heart sank as he saw the size of the line.

“No! They’re backed clear out to the parking lot! We’ll never get in!” he groaned.

“Quit your worrying, BB,” replied Cyborg with a smirk. “Robin’s not the only one who knows a guy.” Cyborg pulled the T-Car around to the back of the establishment and parked next to a dumpster. “Back entrance is better anyway. We’d get swarmed going in the front.”

“Good thing we aren’t Titans tonight,” replied Robin, adjusting the collar of his vest. “Looking good in your hoodie, Garfield.”

“Thanks, Dick,” Beast Boy replied with a wink. “That’s a sharp vest you’ve got on.”

“You two done sapping it up back there?” Cyborg asked, pulling his hoodie up over his face.

“Why, yes, Victor,” Beast Boy replied. “Thank you for asking.”

“Then let’s get inside,” Cyborg answered. “If we hurry, we can still make it for Foot Fight.”

“Foot what ?” Beast Boy asked before letting out a yelp as Cyborg pulled him from the back seat. Cyborg led the two of them around the side of the club to a steel door with a slot in the center. He reached out and knocked twice. The slot opened, and an eye looked out from the inside. The eye glanced from Beast Boy to Robin before coming to light on Cyborg.

“Victor!” said a voice. “Good to see you!” The slot closed, and Beast Boy heard the sound of locks moving. A moment later the door opened, revealing a young man in a black sweater.

“What up, Jack?” Cyborg greeted his friend with a fist bump. “Front of the house looked a little hung up. Thought we’d try the backdoor approach.”

“Come on in,” said Jack with a wink. “You and your Titan friends in the market for a good time?”

“Always,” Beast Boy answered.

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” Jack replied. “I’m Jack Stacker. My parents own the club. Means I own it too, and I’m gonna hook you guys up.”

“Actually,” interjected Robin, “we were kind of hoping to go incognito tonight.” Jack chuckled.

“As incognito as a green guy and a half-machine can be, you mean? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re not bothered. Much.”

“I swear, Jack,” Cyborg warned, “you turn this into a publicity stunt, and you’ll answer to my sonic cannon.”

“Come on, Vic,” Jack replied with a sheepish smirk. “You know that stuff doesn’t work on me. Hey, here we are.”

“Whoa. . .” Beast Boy gawked as they rounded the corner. Before him sprawled a wide room full to overflowing with blinking lights, delectable scents, and bopping music. Beast Boy gazed in awe at his surroundings. The ceiling must have been thirty feet up, and was smattered with glow-in-the-dark paint that changed color with the lights. A whiff of something spicy and savory wafted past his nose. Nachos. Beast Boy waved his hand through the air, watching the layers of fog curl and dissipate around him.

Up ahead, the dance floor was packed with dancers, all jiving to the music. He felt his heart pick up its pace, and the urge to join them overpowered him. “Well, what are we waiting for?” Beast Boy demanded. “Let’s boogie!”

Beast Boy started forward, but was immediately pulled back by a mechanical hand around his shoulder.

“Slow your roll, BB,” said Cyborg. “I got something special in mind for you.”

A single bead of sweat trickled down Beast Boy’s forehead as he eyed his friend nervously. Cyborg grinned, turning to look at Jack. “Y’all got any spots open for Friday Night Foot Fight?”

Jack smirked. 

“Matter of fact,” he replied, “we do.”

A bit of dragging and pushing later, Beast Boy found himself standing on a stage concealed by a curtain. At his side was another curtain, one that separated him from his opponent. Beast Boy tapped his foot nervously. Dancing had sounded good. Dancing in front of a crowd composed entirely of judges. . . that sounded less good. He was going to give Cyborg and Robin a piece of his mind when this was over. But, the DJ was already explaining the rules of the game to the audience, which meant there was no going back now.

“So,” Beast Boy said awkwardly through the curtain, “dance battle, huh? Did your friends volunteer you too?”

There was a pause before a muffled voice replied.

“No,” his opponent said from the other side. “I’m here by myself.”

“Ah,” Beast Boy sighed. “Not so lucky. I appreciate them, though. Tonight’s the most fun I’ve had since. . . well, since I met my ex-girlfriend’s brother.”

“Brothers can be a nuisance,” his opponent added in agreement.

“He wasn’t so bad,” Beast Boy replied. “Besides, my brothers mean well. They just wanted to help me. And they have. What better way to get back into the swing of things than a little friendly competition, am I right?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” his opponent answered.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” came the DJ’s voice, “please turn your lovely faces to the battle stage, and prepare to judge tonight’s FRIDAY NIGHT FOOT FIGHT!”

“Well,” Beast Boy said one thing through the curtain, “good luck.”

“May the best man win,” his opponent replied.

Beast Boy gulped as the lights went low and the fog thickened. The curtain before him rose, and the spotlight focused on him. He shielded his eyes. The silhouettes of the audience all stared at him expectantly. He felt his knees shake. No. He pushed back against the fear, against the darkness.

This is my night, he thought, setting his jaw as the music began. I’m taking my life back now.

Beast Boy stepped forward on his stage, holding his head high and gazing confidently out at the audience as the lyrics kicked in.

“ I’m not afraid to take a stand. Everybody, come take my hand. We’ll walk this road together through the storm, whatever weather, cold or warm. Just lettin' you know that you're not alone

Holla if you feel like you've been down the same road. . . ”

Beast Boy listened to the words as the song played. He smiled. It was speaking to him; he had been down that road. The cycle of losing Terra, then finding her, then losing her again had torn him apart. The darkness had settled in, holding his heart in its grasp. But he would not be afraid. He couldn’t keep living this way, and starting today, he had fought back. He was breaking out of the cage that the darkness had built for him. His body moved, hopping and stepping with the rhythm. The words fueled his fire, a fire that would shine bright.

You can’t get rid of me, the darkness seethed. If you throw me out, you throw her out.

No, Beast Boy told the darkness as he danced. I will never forget Terra, but I will forget you! I am Garfield Logan. I am Beast Boy. I am a Teen Titan, and your welcome in my heart is officially worn out. Now go!

Beast Boy threw up his hands with the music, commanding the darkness to leave. It obeyed. A new curtain lifted, but not on the stage. This curtain lifted within Beast Boy’s very soul. Tears of joy streamed down his face as he danced, wild and free. Sweat ran down his neck and back as he continued to move with the music. For the first time since he and Geo-Force had turned their backs on Terra, Beast Boy no longer felt pain. He would grieve still, but no longer would it define him. When the music finally stopped, he stood with his arms held high. Beast Boy opened his eyes. The crowd was staring, gawking at him with wide eyes and slack jaws. 

The cheers that followed were deafening. Beast Boy smiled, a smile that quickly turned to laughter. He didn’t need their cheers, but he was happy to have them. He felt lighter than air. Several long moments passed before the cheers died.

“I’d say let’s hear it for our first contender, Mashoney’s, but y’all are on your game tonight,” the DJ called out. “Now let’s make some noise for his challenger!”

Beast Boy turned his head to see his opponent as the other curtains raised. When they did, he gasped. His vision turned blurry, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. The crowd gasped too, a collective sound of shock. Beast Boy already knew his opponent well. So did the crowd. Everyone in Jump City knew him, as many of them had been forced to flee their homes on his account.

Slade stood there, fists clenched, posture straight, staring Beast Boy down with his one cold eye.

“My, my,” taunted the villain. “Tough act to follow.”

Chapter Text

“What’s the matter, Garfield? Afraid of ghosts?”

Slade glared at the young superhero with steely coldness from behind his mask. The look of horror on the latter’s face amused him considerably. Fear was a face he’d come to love, and he was surrounded by it. What no one knew, except Slade, was that there would be much, much more fear before the night’s end.

Overcoming his initial shock, Beast Boy scowled. He surged forward, arms outstretched and a battle cry on his lips. Slade moved to sidestep, but miscalculated by a micrometer. Beast Boy had become a silverback in the two steps it took him to close the gap, and Slade found himself clotheslined by the massive beast. The hero roared in his face; he felt the hot breath through his mask as the titanic paws encircled this throat.

“If you’re a ghost,” Beast Boy growled in his gorilla form, “you won’t mind if I snap your neck like a twig.”

“Sounds a bit dark for you,” Slade retorted. Drawing his knees to his chest, Slade kicked with both feet. The blow struck the gorilla squarely in the belly, knocking the wind out of Beast Boy and sending him sprawling to the dance floor. Patrons scattered, yelping in terror but still watching, mesmerized and helpless. Slade suffered the youths a glance. Children were such fools. The sensible would flee.

Slade stepped down from the stage. The villain strolled slowly and purposefully to where Beast Boy, in his human shape, lay gasping for air.

“Chest a little tight, Garfield?” Slade asked, placing his boot on the hero’s chest. Beast Boy whimpered as the villain leaned, and tried desperately to push him off. “Fear does that. Locks up your lungs, shuts off your air. You can’t breathe. You can’t fight. You can only dread.”

“I’m. . . not. . . afraid of you,” Beast Boy spat, baring his teeth at the villain. 

“I can fix that,” Slade replied, reaching for a compartment on his belt.

“OH NO YOU DON’T!”

Slade ducked to one side, sliding across the floor just in time to dodge a discharge from Cyborg’s sonic cannon. Slade regarded the steaming hole in the floor where he had just been standing, then followed it to where the partially mechanical hero now stood. Cyborg’s face was set in a firm scowl, arm extended, ready for another blast.

“Still telegraphing your attacks, Cyborg?” Slade asked. “Tsk, tsk. Some things never change.”

“Some things aren’t meant to change!” Cyborg shouted, unleashing another sonic blast. Slade sailed through the air, over the beam, and kicked off Cyborg’s back. The hero lost his balance, landing on his face with a thud. Slade stood over him triumphantly.

“Boo-yah,” scoffed the villain.

“SLADE!”

Slade had just enough time to turn and look before the heel of a boot collided with his mask and sent him sprawling. He came up on one knee, eye narrowed. A teenage boy from the crowd had delivered the blow, and he stood poised to deliver a second. Slade raised his eyebrow in surprise, then lowered it in determination, as he recognized the youth. Robin.

“I almost didn’t recognize you out of uniform, Robin,” Slade noted, rising to his feet. “I never would have pegged you for the dancing type.”

“Not usually, but I was feeling adventurous,” Robin retorted, gritting his teeth. “Let’s dance.” Robin his arm and went in for a punch. Slade watched in predatory anticipation. His old apprentice had a tendency to open himself up on strikes like this one. 

When will you learn? Slade mused. He reached out with his own hand and grabbed the fist as it came towards him. Then, using Robin’s own momentum, Slade turned and flung him into the wall. That same move had been the boy’s downfall many times before, and it was the one mistake Slade could always rely on him to make.

“Not much of a dance,” Slade taunted, “if your partner can’t stay upright.”

Slade heard the thumping at the last possible moment. He rolled forward, just in time to feel the whistle of wind against his back as a massive green rhinoceros charged past him. Another moment and Slade would have been trampled. The rhino turned to face the villain, sending twin streams of hot air out from his nostrils. He pawed the floor threateningly, ready to charge again.

“Intimidating,” Slade mused as he reached for his belt. “I’ve got something more so.”

Beast Boy, still in rhinoceros form, halted, watching, perhaps from morbid curiosity, as Slade held up a fist-sized canister. It was fitted with a pin, like a grenade, which Slade slipped his index finger through. “Be afraid, Garfield. Be very afraid.”

Slade hurled the canister forward. It arced through the air, trailing a plume of sickly green vapor behind it. It rolled, coming to a stop at Beast Boy’s feet. The hero morphed back as the emerald cloud consumed him.

“What. . . what is. . .” his words trailed off, and his eyes went wide. “Oh. . . oh God. . . no. . .”

Slade watched with grim satisfaction as Beast Boy collapsed onto his rear end and backed away, his face twisted by terror. “No. . . no, please. . . stay away. . .”

Slade turned his head to see Robin pulling himself to his feet. Robin’s eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in fury, at the sight of Beast Boy scrambling in fright.

“What did you do to him?” Robin demanded.

“The same thing that I’m going to do to everyone in this club,” Slade replied. With lightning-fast reflexes, the villain hurled two more canisters across the room, trailing their twin plumes of terror. The club patrons all shrank back, gasping as the concoction entered their lungs. Robin gasped with them; he knew what the green smoke was.

“Cyborg!” he called to the stirring body of his friend a few feet away. “Cover your face! It’s fear toxin!”

“I wouldn’t worry about Cyborg, Robin,” Slade warned. “You’ve got bigger problems. Your exertion has affected your breathing rate, and you’re standing directly in the area of effect. Even if you covered up now, it would be far too little, far too late.”

Robin gritted his teeth, shutting out the sounds of screaming teenagers. His training served him well; he would fight the tide as long as he could.

“You’re strong, Robin,” Slade observed, walking a circle around the young hero. “The toxin will take time to fully affect you. Why don’t we expedite the process?”

Slade lunged, knocking Robin into a wall. Robin gasped as the wind was forced from his lungs. He sucked air, desperate to fill them again.

“That’s it,” Slade whispered. “Breathe it in.” Slade watched Robin’s pupils dilate as the toxin gas took effect. He felt the Boy Wonder’s pulse quicken under his grasp. He watched as his eyes lost focus, quivering at something horrific that only he could see. It disturbed Slade, seeing someone so capable, someone he had come to respect, quaking in fear at invisible monsters. He let go of Robin’s neck, letting the boy fall to the floor and turning his face away. 

Slade scanned the club with a wary eye. Robin was out of commission. Cyborg was still picking himself up off the floor. The civilian club-goers all ran, crawled, and backed away, terrified by the hallucinations that the fear toxin induced in them. Wailing cries filled the air like a collection of dying calls all released simultaneously. The air stank of sulfur, and something more vulgar. No doubt a number of the victims had suffered involuntary incontinence.

None of this interested Slade. His eye was set on a very specific prize. Looking back towards the battle stage, he found that prize. There, backed up to the wall with his hands outstretched, was Beast Boy.

“Stay away!” he called out. “Stay away from me!”

Slade did not heed the young hero’s pleas. The villain advanced, approaching the frightened youth with an imposing stride. He reached down, grabbing Beast Boy by the collar and pulling him to his feet. Beast Boy looked into Slade’s eye, his own eyes filled with impossible terror.

“I told you, Garfield,” Slade whispered as he stuck a syringe into Beast Boy’s neck, “may the best man win. And I intend to.”

Chapter Text

Ashley wondered if this was what it felt like to be buried alive. Her chest felt compressed, like something heavy was pressing down on her sternum. The air closed in from all sides, but her lungs burned for lack of it.

He was here. Despite her best efforts to avoid him, he had found her, whether by accident or intent. Beast Boy stood there, seemingly oblivious to Ashley's presence. She was all too aware of his, and of the sudden whispers it drew from her friends. 

"Oh crap. . ."

"It's him. . . "

"He's so cute. "

Ashley's cheeks boiled, and for a moment, she felt like turning and fleeing. Something wouldn't let her. No matter how many times she tried to describe it in the years that followed, words would always fail. It was like some great cosmic hand reached down from the heavens and came to a gentle but firm rest on her shoulder. Wait , a voice seemed to whisper, and Ashley did as it said.

As she did, she felt her apprehension soften. It felt nice, seeing him like this. He wasn’t sad, like he had been before. Beast Boy was being himself, a loveable goofball, her first real friend, throwing himself out and into something he loved. It warmed her heart, and she was happy for him.

Warmth turned to ice when the second curtain rose. A lash of ice cold terror struck her in the back. The room was too hot. The air was too close. She couldn’t breathe, and yet she was on the verge of hyperventilating. 

It was him.

It was Slade.

Suddenly, she was on the floor, backing away on her hands and knees. Air came and went in fast, shallow bursts. Her heart was like a jackhammer in her chest. 

No no no no no no NO NO NO NO NO!

They were fighting now. The Titans were here, and they wasted no time in leaping into battle. That’s what heroes did, after all. They stood between the people and the bad guys.

Ashley was no hero, and she had to get out of there.

But the way was blocked. A horde of teens stood between her and the exit, and they were all enthralled with the fight.

“Let me out!” she yelled, trying for all she was worth to push past. Nothing came of it. No one moved. There was no escape.

She forced her eyes shut. If she could not leave, she would not look. Her hand tingled, and she grabbed her wrist to steady it. Something deep in her bones began to vibrate. She could feel it growing, swelling greater and greater with her panic.

If she looked, she would lose control.

“Don’t lose control,” she whispered to herself, raking her hands through her hair. “Don’t lose control. . .”

The battle was going poorly. Beast Boy, in the form of a large gorilla, was on his back, dazed. Cyborg was down as well. It was between Slade and Robin now, two masters of hand-to-combat locked in a deadly dance.

Ashley had always been envious of Robin. Here was a boy with none of the unpredictable power she possessed. All he needed was two fists, two feet, and iron determination to go toe to toe with metahumans.

But Slade was no metahuman. She wasn't even sure he was human. He had died. That much she knew. She’d killed him herself; he had haunted her ever since. And now, here he was. No dream. No nightmare. Very real, very alive, and very much a threat.

I have to get out of here.

But where could she go? The exits were blocked. Everyone was standing around, watching when they should have been running. Didn’t they know they were in danger? Did they think it was part of the show?

Something sailed over Ashley's shoulder. It left a hissing tray of smoke and hit the floor behind her. A caustic aroma assaulted her nose as the gas spilled over her. Behind her, a new chorus of screams erupted from the crowd, but they were wrong. Distorted. Ashley looked down at her hands. Something was definitely wrong, because they were green. Green and gnarled, with claws that could have shredded steel. 

“Oh God,” she breathed, panting raggedly. “Oh God. . . I’m. . . I’m. . .”

“A monster?”

Ashley’s spine tingled as the voice whispered to her. She looked up. Robin and Cyborg were unconscious on the floor, and Beast Boy was nowhere to be seen.

“What. . . did you do. . . to them?”

“What does it matter to you, girl? By your own design, the affairs of superheroes have nothing to do with you.”

Ashley’s shoulders heaved with a heavy sob.

“What did you do to me?”

“I held you in front of a mirror,” Slade answered. “This is what you are now. Not my apprentice. Not a Titan. A monster, trying desperately to live unseen among the masses. But they will see you, Terra. Sooner or later, the beast will reveal itself.”

“Don’t call me that!” she snapped, turning to face her old master. She shrank back in horror at what she saw. It was Slade, but far worse than she’d ever seen him, even in her darkest nightmares: a demon wreathed in darkness, alight with dark flames, with that one piercing eye gazing back at her from the abyss.

“My dear, that’s who you are, and who you’ll always be.”

“NO!”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Don’t believe me? Then go, and hide among them.”

Ashley turned to run. She could see shapes all around her. They weren’t right, but she knew they were people. The gas was some kind of hallucinogenic. She had to fight through it.

“Everyone, move!” she pleaded, hoping that a commanding voice would do the trick. “We have to get out of here!”

“STAY BACK!” a voice shouted.

“MONSTER!”

“YOU’RE NOT ONE OF US!”

“B-but I am,” Ashley insisted with quivering lips. “I’m just like the rest of you!”

“NO! GET BACK!”

Tears streamed down Ashley’s face. She was drowning in her own terror. Whatever Slade had doused her with was powerful. Worse still, she could feel the ground rumbling beneath her feet.

“No, no, no, no. . .” Ashley collapsed to her knees. “Don’t lose control, don’t lose control. . .”

She’d been suppressing her powers for so long, and now, this uncontrollable fear was going to make them boil over. She looked around. The building was still full. She had to get away somehow, or she was going to bring it down. But she was too weak to move. Whatever plans Slade had for her, she almost hoped they involved taking her with him. She could always escape him later. If she stayed here. . .

“What do you want with me?” Terra asked through the tears. She clenched her fists, and forced herself to stare back into the abyss. The cold eye studied her as the imminent earthquake within her grew and grew. There wasn’t much time now. Moments at best.

Slade turned his back on her and walked away.

“You’re irrelevant.”

Chapter Text

“Time to wake up, Garfield.”

Beast Boy found himself torn from his deep, chemically-induced slumber by a splash of ice cold water. 

“YIKES!!!” he wailed, writhing at the freezing cold. “WHOA! WHOA, THAT’S COLD! WHAT THE HECK, MAN?”

“Relax, young one,” ordered a voice that Beast Boy still hated. “You’ll be dry again soon enough. I need you in mint condition, after all.” 

Beast Boy fluttered his eyes, trying to bat away the water clouding his vision. Sure enough, there stood Slade, hands holding an empty tin bucket.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a real jerk?”

“Let’s just say I don’t keep a tally,” Slade replied. “Not anymore.”

“Very funny,” Beast Boy hissed. He squirmed, trying to move. His hands were bound. Ankles too, and there was some kind of iron collar around his neck. That would have been an easy fix, but something was keeping him from morphing.

“Borrowed Hive technology,” said Slade. “You won’t be able to use your abilities so long as you’re wearing that collar.”

“The Titans will find me,” growled Beast Boy. “They’ll find both of us, and this time, you won’t get away. This time, I’m not going to let you get away. No more hurting, Slade. Not me. Not Terra. Not anybody.”

“I have no plans to hurt anyone, Garfield. Not you. Not the Titans. Certainly not Terra. Just the opposite, as a matter of fact.”

Beast Boy furrowed his brow.

“Liar,” he hissed. “Hurting people is all you’re good for. You hurt my friends. Do you have any idea what Robin went through after you died? The nights he spent making sure you didn’t come back? And Terra? She was just a kid with NOTHING! She finally scored a break in life, and you came and TOOK THAT FROM HER!!! And for what? Jump City? A false kingdom under a false king. You’re a monster, Slade. And the moment this collar comes off my neck, I’m going to kill that monster.”

A hard strike hit Beast Boy squarely in the cheek, a slap from Slade’s open palm.

“So much talk, and still you have remarkably little of value to say,” said Slade. “What I’m doing right now, what I’ve done ever since I told you to let her go, I’ve done for you. I’ve done it for the Titans, and I’ve done it for Terra.”

“I don’t believe a word you say.”

“Then don’t,” retorted Slade. “But you will listen.”

Beast Boy sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “Make one more bad guy speech. I’ll allow it.”

“I’m not the bad guy,” Slade corrected him. “Not this time. Nothing alters one’s perspective on things quite like dying, Garfield. Dying, and clawing your way up from hell. I’ve seen terrible things, Garfield. You, the Titans, and me are among the only human beings who know what happened when Trigon rose. We saw this world laid low. I never want to see that happen again. This world is my home, too, and I will protect it with everything I am.”

Beast Boy scoffed.

“If that’s true, then why attack Mashoney’s? Why kidnap me?”

“Because that is the only way to show Terra that the world still needs her,” Slade replied, standing close. He was inches away from Beast Boy’s face now. Beast Boy shrugged off the thought of giving the evil mastermind a rhinoceros headbutt, as entertaining as that mental image was. “You believe that the girl who was once Terra has no memories of her former life. You are wrong. She remembers everything. She has simply chosen to forget.”

Beast Boy hung his head. His worst fears were confirmed. Terra hadn’t forgotten anything. She’d chosen to cut him out of her life, to pretend that she’d never been a Titan. He tried to fight back, but the tears came anyway. He leaned forward, and sobbed. More tears came. His face burned with humiliation at being seen like this by his worst enemy. He was weeping like a baby, and he could only imagine that Slade was eating it up.

Something brushed his cheek, and he snapped at it instinctively. When he opened his eyes, what he saw was something he wasn’t sure was real. In Slade’s hand was a tissue, and held it just out of reach.

“Let me dry those, Garfield,” said Slade. “There’s more to say.”

Beast Boy’s mouth hung open. His blood swelled with fury. This was mockery. It had to be. Slade was the same villain who preached against weakness, who had beaten Robin to a pulp on more than one occasion. Beast Boy strained against his bindings. Powers be damned, he’d strangle Slade with his own two hands if he got free.

“You MONSTER! You think you can just play with me like that? I’m gonna rip your ribs right out of your chest, ONE BY ONE!”

“Garfield,” Slade said again, “I take no pleasure in seeing you like this. You have been a worthy opponent to me, and I respect you for it. That respect, alongside my understanding of your feelings, has. . . moved me. Please, let me dry your eyes.”

What in the hell was he talking about? Beast Boy had never heard Slade say anything like that before. Respect? Understanding? Moved ? This couldn’t possibly be the same villain that had plagued the Titans for all those years. 

“You don’t trust me,” Slade said. “Of course not. I’m a monster in a metal mask.”

Slade crumpled the tissue and threw it away. He took a few steps back and stood facing Beast Boy.

“I’m going to show you something, Garfield,” he said. “Something only a handful of people on this planet have seen before.”

Beast Boy watched as Slade raised both hands to the sides of his mask. There was a sudden click, followed by a popping noise.

No way , thought Beast Boy. Sure enough, the villain was removing his mask. Beast Boy half expected to see a robot face peering back at him from inside. Not this time. A real, human face looked at him. Beast Boy couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Slade was an older man, with rugged, clean-shaven features. Bits of curly white hair hung loose from the sides. The most striking feature, however, was the thick red scar that ran right through Slade’s right eye. The eye’s milky white pupil looked blankly back at Beast Boy. The villain scowled.

“Few have looked upon my face and lived to tell the tale,” he said. “I keep it closely guarded. Almost like you superheroes do, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Whoa,” Beast Boy managed at last. “You’re an old dude.”

“Fear the old man in a profession where men die young,” Slade replied. “Let this revelation be a sign of trust. I mean to keep you here until she comes to rescue you. Then, she will be tested. You all will.”

“But why?” Beast Boy asked. His mind was overloading. “What’s the point of all this? You’ve got to be working some kind of angle.”

Slade sighed. He sat down in a nearby metal chair and folded his hands.

“Not this time, Garfield,” he whispered sharply. “I know you must think the worst of me, and you have every reason to. But this time, I’m doing what I’m doing for the greater good.”

Chapter Text

Don't lose control, she whispered through clenched teeth and a heaving stomach. Don't lose control. 

All around Ashley, shaken teens stared apprehensively at Ashley. Slade was gone. He's taken what he came for with him, and left her here alone. After everything, he wasn't even after her. Irrelevant, he'd called her. Ironic, it seemed. All she'd wanted was for him to ignore her, and now that he had, she was fighting back an earthquake.

Don't lose control.

The Mashoney’s crowd was eyeing her intensely, unsure of what was going to happen. Some started to mumble, asking what she was doing, telling her to stop. Her fingernails scraped against the dance floor, and her back arched with the effort. They weren't helping.

Why don't they run? She wondered to herself. Why do people always stand around and gawk when something bad is obviously about to happen?

A sharp pain scraped across Ashley's spine. She cried out in pain. The ground was shaking now. Cracks began to spiderweb along the ceiling. Dust fell from above, coating her hair and back.

Don't. . . lose. . . control. . .

“GET OUT OF HERE!!!” she screamed, so shrill that her voice cracked. The gawking finally stopped as the frightened teens all turned tail and ran, scurrying away for their lives. Ashley hoped they retreated quickly enough, because then she lost control.

The ground shook like a hundred thousand jackhammers had all hit it at once. The force was enough to crack the walls. Ashley felt her power growing. Her hands and eyes glowed yellow as she synced with the earth below against her will. The shaking grew more violent. Panels and light fixtures tumbled from the ceiling and shattered against the floor.

Stop, Ashley begged, hugging both fists to her chest as she tried to reign in the power. Stop, please!

It didn't stop. Razor-sharp stalagmites erupted from the angry earth. The floor split and receded, showing bare earth and stone. Ashley knelt in the middle of a crater now. Her heart shook within as the ground shook without. Grim realization hit Ashley through her tears. This wasn't going to stop. The reaction was growing stronger, climbing to a catastrophic crescendo with her at the epicenter. If she didn't stop it, it would continue to grow unfettered. Perhaps it would stop once Jump City had collapsed into the earth. Perhaps not. Either way, she had to stop it, and she had to stop it now.

Though the weight pushing down upon her was great, Ashley rose to her feet. Her power raged within and without like a wildfire. She was going to have to smother it like one. Ashley raised her eyes, now glowing ever brighter as he power climbed. She couldn't control it, but maybe she could aim it. All around her, she felt the pull of the earth. The earth was the ground, the dark depths below from which she had emerged.

But it was also the building. Concrete foundation, iron nails, steel beams. These were the earth, and she would return them to it. Ashley raised her hands and focused as hard as she could.

Come free, she told them. She could feel their resonance. Cracks formed in the concrete. The nails quivered. The beams bent. Feeling encouraged, Ashley tugged a little harder.

Yes, that's good. More of that.

It was working. She could feel it. Ashley wasn't fully in control yet, but she was focusing the power like a lens. It was moving through her, and she was releasing it in a direction she chose. This would do it. Just a little more.

Her plan was to bring down the building. By focusing the power on certain areas, she was hoping to slowly let it burn itself out, like a wildfire. The energy would build and build until she finally released it. The resulting shockwave would level Mashoney’s, but the destruction would stop there. She hoped.

Just a little longer. . .

There was a horrible crunch, followed by a pressurized hiss. Suddenly, Ashley was in the face with a powerful stream of water. She sputtered, choking as the water flooded her mouth, nose, and eyes. A water pipe must have burst under the floor. She tried to reach out with her power to close it, but it was too late. Her concentration had shattered.

The building came down. Ashley had just enough time to form a protective shell around herself before the ceiling caved in. She imagined herself moving, moving through solid earth to safety. She felt the rumble as the building collapsed, followed by the silence as the earth settled. Had she done it? Had she stopped the earthquake? 

When Ashley emerged from the ground, she found herself standing in an alleyway. Trash cans and trash littered the pavement. She looked down at herself. No visible injuries. Her outfit was completely soiled, but that didn't concern her

 She scrambled to her feet and ran out onto the sidewalk. What she saw stopped her in her tracks.

Mashoney's was gone. The entire club had collapsed into a hole in the ground. It looked like everyone had gotten out before she brought it down, for which she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. 

People stood all around, looking in awe at the collapsed building and the gargantuan plume of dust that was rising into the air. Teens stared in horror. Pedestrians who had witnessed the collapse looked on in awe. Reporters took notes, photographers snapped photographs. Police had arrived on the scene, and their lights reflected ominously off the wall of dust. A few feet away, a teenaged boy turned his head and caught sight of Ashley.

“That's her!” he shouted, pointing. “She's the one who did this!”

People turned to look. Ashley felt her mouth go dry.

“What? No, I was just-”

Ashley took a step back as a sudden flash of light hit her eyes. Photographers snapped pictures. People started to jeer. Even the police were starting to take notice. Cornered, Ashley did the only thing she could do, the thing she did best.

She turned and ran. She ran back into the alleyway, and kept running. She ran until she was sure no one was following. She ducked behind a dumpster, and there she sat. Ashley put her face in her hands and wept. The destruction she'd caused, the people she'd wronged, and the horrors she'd seen all came flooding back. Who was she kidding? She couldn't control her powers. She couldn't help anyone. She couldn't even help herself. All she was good for was running. She wept and wept until her tears were nearly spent.

“What's the matter?”

Ashley looked up to see a man standing over her. He was tall, built like a wall, and looked down at her with eyes full of compassion. The man adjusted his glasses, looking her over with concern.

“Are you hurt?” he asked softly. Ashley pressed her back against the wall.

“Stay away from me,” she warned. 

“I'm not going to hurt you,” he said reassuringly.

“But I might hurt you.”

The man smiled warmly.

“I'm not worried about that,” he said. “You look like you could use a slice of pie, and a listening ear. Why don't you come with me?”

He held out a hand in invitation. Ashley eyed it warily. He looked friendly, but he was a stranger.

“I saw what happened,” he told her. Her neck stiffened. The stranger’s face remained warm. “I won't tell anyone, but you clearly need some help. Come inside with me, and we can talk. If that doesn't help, you can leave, and I'll pretend like I never saw you. Deal?”

Ashley glared at the man. She could run, but to where? Sooner or later, it would happen again. It always did.

What the heck.

Ashley accepted the hand, and the man helped her to her feet. He has a very strong arm, she noted.

She looked into his friendly eyes and hoped she wasn't making a mistake.

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

“Anything yet?” Robin asked as he eyed Cyborg’s monitors impatiently. Cyborg’s mechanical eye glowed dully as he monitored the surveillance footage.

“Not yet,” he replied. “I'll let you know as soon as I get a hit.”

Robin paced the floor. Cyborg had grabbed him just before whatever Slade had done to collapse the club. When the dust settled, Beast Boy was gone, which meant that Slade had taken him. Now, Cyborg was syncing up with Jump City’s citywide surveillance cameras, hoping to catch a glimpse of Beast Boy. Or Slade. If they could get some footage, they might be able to figure out where Slade had taken Beast Boy.

“When I find Slade,” Robin seethed, “I'm going to make sure he stays down for good this time.”

“He's got that much coming to him,” agreed Raven. She hadn't been able to track their missing teammate with any of her spells, which meant that Slade had accounted for that. Slade usually accounted for everything.

“Do not waste your anger upon the carpet,” said Starfire, looking down disapprovingly at the path Robin was wearing into the floor. “Save your wrath so that you may visit it upon Slade when we find him.” Her eyes flashed green momentarily. “We shall all get our chance to visit our wrath upon him.”

“And in the meantime, what? Beast Boy could be getting tortured for all we know, or worse.” Robin kicked a chair across the room. “We need to find him now!”

“Friend Cyborg is working on the surveillance, Robin,” Starfire cautioned. She took his hand in hers and placed her free hand on his shoulder. “Settle yourself. Your impatience will not bring any good to Beast Boy.”

Robin simmered down. Starfire had that effect on him, a fact that had become even more prominent after they started dating.

“You're right, Star,” he whispered.

“Of course I am the right,” she agreed. “If I was the wrong, I would not say anything in the first place.”

Cyborg beeped. 

“Well, well, well,” he muttered. “What do we have here?”

“You found Beast Boy?” Robin asked, rushing over to Cyborg's side.

“Not yet,” he replied. “But I did find something you'll want to see.”

Cyborg pressed a button on the console, and a profile appeared on a side monitor. The man in the picture wore a blue vest over a white sweater. He had a strong jawline, and looked built like a farmhand. His expression was mild-mannered , a face-in-the-crowd look topped off with a pair of simple eyeglasses.

“Clark Kent,” Robin read out loud. “Who is he?”

“A reporter from Metropolis,” Cyborg answered. “Seems to cover some pretty serious stories. Looks like wherever he goes, some pretty nasty bad guys end up following. Get this: nearly every single one of his articles is about Metropolis’ golden boy.”

“A boy made of gold?" Starfire asked, confused. "But how is that possible?”

“Not gold,” Raven corrected. “Steel.”

“A man made of steel? But that seems equally unusual. Is he a robot?”

“No,” answered Robin. “She's talking about Superman.”

The room grew quiet.

“Is Superman coming to Jump City?” Starfire asked. “I would love to make friends with the boy of gold and steel who is not a robot!”

“The reporter isn't the interesting part,” Cyborg interjected. “He's just a reporter. The interesting part is the fact that he's got a room at the Deluxe Hotel. But, he didn't pay for the room, and he isn't here by himself.”

“Is this Kent guy with Slade?” Robin asked. “I can make a reporter talk. That part will be easy.”

“Not Slade,” replied Cyborg as a second profile appeared on the side monitor. Robin’s eyes widened in surprise. He felt like the room was spinning, and he turned away from the monitor to steady himself.

“You've got to be kidding me,” he muttered. Starfire looked from Robin to the monitor.

“Bruce Wayne,” she read aloud. “Is he a boy made of gold as well?”

Chapter Text

“So tell me, what's troubling you?”

Ashley sat across from the man, her mouth hanging slightly open in disbelief. He looked back at her, his warm eyes twinkling from behind his glasses as he flashed her an equally warm smile. He dipped his spoon into the slice of pecan pie the waitress had brought him and took another bite. Ashley looked down at her own untouched slice of pie. She raised her gaze to look at the display of wooden animals across the room, a tiny totem circus one could see from the sidewalk outside. A bell jingled, and she jumped. Her eyes flitted over her shoulder to the front door, painted a verdant green.

“It’s alright,” the man said softly, and Ashley’s eyes moved back to his.

“I. . . I always meant to come here. . .” she muttered. The man smiled even more warmly. Ashley tended to avoid strangers, but there wasn’t a single red flag about him. His very presence made her feel safe, warm, and welcome.

“You have good taste,” he answered, taking a sip of coffee from his steaming ceramic cup. “Speaking of good taste, you should try the pie. The sign out front may exaggerate a little, but this is some of the best pecan pie I’ve ever tasted.”

As if to prove his point, he took another hearty bite. Ashley looked down at the slice in front of her. It did look quite good, and she had wanted to try it for quite some time. Yet, despite the kindness of the stranger, and the appetizing appearance of the pie, an unease still quivered in the pit of Ashley’s stomach. She reached for her own spoon, but her hand shook. Her fingers fumbled, and the spoon clattered to the floor. She gasped. Her fingers curled into a frustrated fist, and she closed her eyes in embarrassment. 

Something touched her. It was warm and gentle, like a small blanket meant for a hand. She opened her eyes, and saw that the stranger’s hand rested upon her closed fist. His spoon lay on the little pie plate before him. His eyes, full of concern, gazed into her own.

“Listen to me,” he said softly, in a tone that melted her embarrassment away. “You’re not alone. I’m here with you; you’re safe.”

Ashley cringed at his words, but not because she doubted them. She cringed because, deep in her heart of hearts, she knew that they were true. She was safe; nothing could hurt her here. She didn’t understand why. After everything that had happened, after everything she had done. . . surely she didn’t deserve that. It was true, though, and that was enough to send tears running down her cheeks in rivulets. She was grateful that they were alone in the dining room, because there was no fighting it.

Ashley buried her face in the tablecloth, weeping, holding nothing back. The tears she cried were raindrops from a swirling squall of emotions: fury, regret, sadness. They burned her cheeks and tear ducts as they ran, making her cry even harder. The stranger remained silent, but his hand lingered on Ashley’s.

“Why?” she sobbed, asking a question that she had never expected to hear answered. “Why. . . me? Why can’t I just get rid of them?”

“Get rid of what?” the stranger asked, his voice soft and resonant.

“My powers,” Ashley answered, unable to hold back any longer. “I can’t. . . control them. Even when I had control, it was just someone else, controlling me. I did. . . bad things. Terrible things. I wanted to help people. I really did. But all I ever do. . . is destroy.”

Silence. It seemed to last for hours. Ashley looked up, expecting to see horror, maybe disgust, on the stranger’s face. Neither was present. Instead, there was something like sadness. It wasn’t an ordinary sadness, though. It was sort of like a smile, the kind so powerful that it forced others to smile. It had the same effect, too; the stranger’s sadness seemed to absorb her own. As it did, she felt peace wash over her.

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“Don’t say that,” Ashley snapped, though her face flushed as she did. “You don’t. . . you don’t know what I’ve been through.”

The man said nothing. Letting go of her hand, he reached for his coffee cup and set it on the table in front of her. The stranger took a deep breath and set it free, breathing a stream of air directly at the cup. Ashley blinked. Her mouth fell open, and she wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. The stranger stopped. He looked pointedly at the cup, then at Ashley. Ashley looked back at him, bewildered, then back at the cup. The coffee, which had been piping hot moments before, was frozen solid.

“I know,” he whispered tenderly, “because I’ve been through it, too.”

Ashley was dumbstruck. She gawked at the stranger with newfound wonder. He didn’t seem entirely like a stranger anymore. She didn’t know him, of course; even his name was still a mystery. Yet, in a way, he was just like her. The stranger folded his hands across the tabletop. His face was serious now, though not in an intimidating way. It was a look that flooded her with anticipation at what his next words would be.

“When I was your age, I couldn’t control my powers, either,” he began. “I wanted to help people, to use the things I could do for good. But, no matter how hard I tried, bad things happened. People got hurt. I can’t remember how many times I wished that I could make them go away.”

“What changed?” Ashley asked. The stranger smiled.

“Nothing changed,” he answered. “At least, not right away. My parents gave me wisdom, as they always did. I practiced, as I always had. I kept testing the limits. I kept trying to do good.”

“But why?” Ashley asked. “Weren’t you afraid of what could happen, of what you might do?”

The stranger leaned forward. His expression grew even more serious.

“Every single day,” he answered, “every single minute; and if I had let that fear win, we wouldn’t be having this chat. I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

The stranger reached out his hand, gesturing towards her with an open palm.

“Because if I had, all the good I’ve done since would never have happened. People would be hurt. You would still be alone in that alley.” The stranger sat up straight and smiled. “In a way, I did it for you.”

“For me?” Ashley asked, looking up at the man with trembling eyes. He nodded his head.

“For you,” he repeated. “And I’d do it all again, even if you were the only person I would ever help.”

“I. . .” Ashley’s voice shook as she tried to speak. “I don’t deserve that. The things I’ve done-”

“Are in the past,” the man interrupted. “You can’t change what you’ve done.” He reached out, putting his great warm hand over her own again. “All that matters now is what you do. You can’t change your yesterday, but you can change your tomorrow.”

Ashley fell silent. Something was stirring deep inside her, something she had not felt for some time. When she’d first awoken from her stony chrysalis deep within the earth, she had been afraid. She had tried to hide from her fear, from her guilt.

Images flashed through her mind. The faces of her family. Her brother. The Markovian laboratory where her powers were created. Running away. The streets. The places she had traveled. The desert. Running away. Robin, Raven, Cyborg, Starfire, and Beast Boy. Titans Tower. Running Away. Slade. The cavern. Darkness. Light. Running away. High school. The construction zone. The last goodbye. A face in the crowd. Running away. Her whole life, leading up to that moment, playing like a movie in her head. For so long, she’d wanted to escape it all. For so long, she’d wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

Now, it was different. The stranger’s words pierced her soul, filling her with something new. For the first time since her rebirth or before, she no longer wanted to hide. A fire was burning in her heart, and a smile brightened her face. At long last, she had hope.

With tears of joy streaming down her face, she threw her arms around the stranger’s neck. She felt his arm encircle her, returning the hug.

“I want to change my tomorrow,” she cried into his shoulder. “I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to run anymore.”

“You don’t have to,” he answered.

“I. . . there’s so much I want to ask you, so much I want to say. . .”

“Not yet,” he told her. “Go. Breathe. Make your peace.”

“But. . . I don’t want to be alone,” she protested.

“You won’t be alone, friend.” The man retrieved an item from his pocket and held it out to her. It looked like a watch. The face was red and yellow, with a number of buttons on the side. “The button on the left is a signal. The one on the right is a communicator. Whenever you need to talk - or want to talk - I’ll be listening.”

Ashley took the watch in her hands, holding it like a priceless treasure.

“Thank you. . .” Suddenly, her face flushed. “I just realized I never asked your name.”

The stranger smiled, adjusting his glasses.

“It’s Clark.”

Ashley held out a hand for a high-five, which Clark gladly gave her.

“Clark,” she repeated. “You can call me. . . Terra.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Clark replied. “Now go, Terra. Change your tomorrow.”

“I will,” she answered. “And. . . thanks for the pie.”

With that, Ashley. . . Terra, turned towards the green door. The bell jingled as she strode out into the street. She walked down the sidewalk, feeling the breeze in her hair. Walking wasn’t enough; there was too much power welling up inside her chest. As she had done before, she ran.

This time, however, it wasn’t like before. For the first time in her life, Terra wasn’t running away.