Teen Titans #55: "A Relatively Quiet Day"

[arcalian]

Teen Titans #55
A Relatively Quiet Day
Story by Jay McIntyre
Art by Rik Mertens

“You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day brings a miracle of its own. It's just a matter of paying attention to this miracle.”
 Paulo Coelho


“I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see.”
 John Burroughs

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-1-

Naturally, the Titans are not fighting some major super powered threat every day. And not everyone is there every day, either; Nightwing and Kid Flash were often away. Others came and went on personal business. Very few of them actually lived in the Tower full-time.

But there was always someone here. The number of members the team had now, it was never really empty.

So it is that we find ourselves here, on a day with no super villain threat, and even regular crime is relatively low level. But even so, everyone is here.

This is a relatively quiet day, for the Titans.

[arcalian]

-2-

Dawn.

Nightwing was actually here today, though of late the city of Bludhaven was in his thoughts.

He had finished a night patrol around New York, and was having french onion soup as either a very late dinner or a very early breakfast, depending on how you looked at it. Putting his dishes in the dishwasher, he heard a sparkling and a sizzling from the basement. Curious, he wandered down the steps to the first sub level of the Tower.

There were four proper sub levels, and a partial fifth, which housed the generator. Here on the first sub level was the gymnasium and several small racquetball and basketball courts; and also a small workshop. Cyborg spent a lot of his time here, and he was here now, taking a soldering iron to his white noise cannon. Nightwing wasn't really surprised; of those on permanent day shift, Cyborg was usually the earliest riser.



“Morning,” Nightwing said. “Upgrades?”

“More like maintenance,” Cyborg said, without looking away from his work. “You'd be surprised how quickly my metal and circuitry wear down.”

“Actually I wouldn't, after all my years exposed to various bat-gadgets,” Nightwing said. “But I'd think the interface between flesh and steel would cause it's own problems.” He gauged his tone carefully, between concern and calm analysis, knowing that Cyborg could sometimes be sensitive about such things.

But Cyborg was not offended. “It's happened a couple times since I joined. A quick trip to STAR Labs is usually all that's required. I'm just glad I don't have to rely on my father.”

“Do you want us to ask Checkmate about how your dad is doing?” Nightwing asked, still treading carefully.

Cyborg finally put the soldering iron down, gave a weary smile and shook his head. “They've passed the word along now and again, probably due to Speedy's influence. He wasn't very cooperative, so after some business where a rogue faction tried to pry the secrets of that OMAC suit from him, he was locked away for good. The rogue faction hired another mad scientist to do the job instead, and the Suicide Squad put an end to it.”

“With a little help from Geo-Force and Katana, I think.....yes, I remember hearing something about it. But I didn't know your father was involved.”

“He refused to be. Which is sort of the point. Not out of any sense of morality or penitence of course, but simple pragmatism. And since then, he's been locked away.”

“Do you want to see him?”

“I doubt they'd even let me, but no. Silence from him is a gift.”

Nightwing nodded and put a hand on Cyborg's metal-and-circuit-woven shoulder. “You've always been the solid reliable one, Vic. Don't think that I don't appreciate that.”

Cyborg smirked. “Hey, after being friends with Gar? Everything else is easy.”

They both laughed a bit, then Nightwing went upstairs, to where Starfire was waiting for him, having just woken up. Nightwing's dreams had been troubling lately, it was true; but when he was wide awake, he knew who he had chosen, and it wasn't Babs. Moving to Bludhaven wouldn't change that.

For his part, Cyborg continued working on himself for perhaps another twenty minutes. He would be going to STAR Labs today anyway; not for an overhaul, but to pick up Sarah Charles. He was quite fond of her, and she was coming to the tower to help them with something. Well, one of them, anyway.

After that, perhaps he could pry Gar away from Tara long enough to hang with him for a while.

[arcalian]

-3-

After a short but intense session with her lover, Kory left Dick in bed, showered, and went to her modeling shoot.

She didn't want to wash the scent of him off of herself, but they wouldn't understand that sort of thing at a modeling shoot. Like all Tameraneans, everything she did, she did with passion, and that meant doing it right.

She knew who Batgirl was, of course; Barbara, 'Babs'. She knew something of her history with Nightwing. Starfire respected her, felt she was a capable warrior. And hopefully in future they could be allies without...any unnecessary distractions.

One thing that had worried her when she had first come to this world, in the early days of the team, was setting up a proper secret identity. It was no real difficulty to establish such a thing—taking her real name of Koriand'r and 'humanizing' it to Kory Anders—but surely she would be discovered?

The Titans had laughed at that. Then, when she had found Beast Boy down in Miami, he hadn't even bothered disguising that green skin of his, even disdaining the mask he had originally worn. He had been a high-profile hero before, in the Doom Patrol. She had wondered why his friend Cyborg hadn't built a holographic disguise for him, and had said so at the time. If he couldn't hide himself, he could surely protect the rest of them and not risk their identities.

That was when the others had laughed. Donna went bare-faced all the time, and Dick had told her that Superman was almost as obvious in his civilian identity. Kory still wasn't sure of the situation, but went along with it. When Donna had suggested a modeling career to her, Kory had been properly startled, but Donna assured her it would be no problem.

Not that Kory had any doubts about her ability to model successfully. She knew well enough that she had an attractive body, by both human and Tamaranean standards. Nor was this vanity; she knew it would not last forever, and wasn't overly smug about it. It was simply part of who she was, and would be for many years to come. No, her concern, rather, was that it would be another risk for exposure.

The others, Donna particularly, had explained to her that it was a matter of behaving differently when you were out of costume—developing that sort of willful self-inflicted split personality that any superhero had to have, save those like Gar or Victor who couldn't truly hide themselves. She had learned it from the others behavior; Donna was more studious and introspective than Troia; Dick was more relaxed and less brash than Nightwing; Wally was far more subdued and serious than Kid Flash. And Tara, once she had arrived, was a shameless brazen tart, but as Terra, only the temper remained the same; she was otherwise the cute-girl superhero she appeared to be.

So once the others had sufficiently reassured her about their secret identities, she had started on her modeling career. Despite her figure and looks, she hadn't gone for the big time; but she had a respectable mid-level career. Illustrated Sports had already had her in their swimsuit issue two years running.

Tara had, only half-jokingly, suggested she go for one of the more adult magazines. But Donna had advised against it and Kory agreed with her. She was a passionate woman with every fiber of her being, but not that brazen. And that side of the business had contacts she didn't want to get involved with.

So today she was modeling fashionable clothes for up-and-coming businesswomen. She was shooting in an office suite. It felt a little silly, but then many human customs felt silly to her. Posing and spinning and turning for the cameras was by now reflexive for her, almost pleasant.

On her way out, she heard some commotion and feared she would have to duck around the corner and come back as Starfire; but it turned out to be a mundane matter that the police already had under control; some disgruntled worker in a warehouse had commandeered a forklift and had chased his boss with it.

She smiled and went clicking away on her high heels; another human conceit she did not understand, nor ever wore casually.

[arcalian]

-4-

Tara and Gar rose later, as was their custom. That is to say, they woke up still tangled together on the bean bag chair that served as their bed sometime after 10 am.

Gar had only ever been an early riser during his 'Saturday morning cartoon' phase, which was well behind him. Tara had kept odd hours, even as a child in Castle Markov.

Gar woke first, and groaned; Tara stirred in his arms, facing away from him.

“What time is it?” she asked blearily.

He checked the clock. “Our usual,” he said.

She cursed, then snuggled against him, and he reciprocated, holding her close.

“There is something I wanted to talk about,” he said.

“Your timing is wonderful, dear,” she said dryly.

“You already met Dr. Caulder during that Black Sun crisis. By now, he's told the others about you. You have to meet them, sooner or later.”

“Gar,” she sighed. “I may be your girl, but that still doesn't make me the sort you take home to mother.”

He hugged her tighter. “Gotta happen sometime.”

Tara made a frustrated noise.

“C'mon bebe, trust me.”

“I do trust you,” she sighed. “You've no idea how much. But your parents are another matter.”

“You'd be surprised.”

“That's what worries me.”

Further conversation was cut off by Cyborg pounding on their door. “Wake up, you two!”

Now they both groaned.

[arcalian]

-5-

Before going back upstairs to wake the lovebirds, Cyborg had, as planned, brought Sarah Charles to the tower....to tutor Scarlet Wing.

Carrie Levine was her real name, and she had never existed in this reality. The Levine family was real, but they had had twin girls, neither of them named Carrie, and a younger boy named Jon. She had researched it. One of the girls almost looked like her, but the hair wasn't right. She had felt very...disturbed.

Carrie had been curious about life in this world, not just her 'alternate' family. Though she had been privately tutored by her timeline's version of Slade Wilson—even after having faced him in this reality, she still had a hard time accepting that the wise professor she had known was such a heartless mercenary here—she had hoped for a more traditional education in this...sadly atomic-powered world.

But her wings would make her stand out. And there was no school for gifted metahumans, whether they were born with that gift or came by it later. Such things were only tales of a world even more dystopian than this one.

But despite her sadness over this world and the loss of her own, she was an essentially optimistic person. However naive it might seem, she was bound and determined to make this world a better place in any way possible. And after all, wasn't that what mystery men....no, groups like the Titans were for? The name may have changed, but the purpose was the same.

“It's not naive at all, Carrie,” Sarah Charles said when she expressed her thoughts. “That is why the Titans are here, and why we are trying to make a better tomorrow, all of us. That's part of my job as a scientist, after all.”

Carrie nodded. She knew the personal stories of all the Titans save Dagon, who didn't remember all of it, and didn't want to talk about the parts he did remember.

“But I'm curious,” Sarah went on. “Your level of education is already well past that of one of our good schools. Why do you want private tutoring?”

“It is true that my level of education is satisfactory by the standards of this culture,” Carrie agreed. “But that isn't enough for me. I could rest on my laurels and simply adventure for a few years before learning any more. But first, I am part of this world now, which means I must learn as much as I can about it; and second, one the principles I retain from....my old world and the people in it.....is to keep learning as much as I can. I am still only sixteen; by the standards of this world I should still be in school anyway.”

“I've never heard a sixteen year old from this world talk about it like that, even an exceptionally smart one,” Sarah smiled.

Carrie smiled shyly back. “Thank you. Even in my world, I was taught by an exceptional man. And....thank you for tutoring me.”

“My pleasure,” Sarah assured her. “It's a nice change to get out of the lab. Now, you wanted to study the rise of atomic power.....”

[arcalian]

-6-

On days like this, it was usual for one of them to be on duty, and call the others in case they needed help.

Today, that person was Troia. She was zooming over the city, when she heard about a crisis in one of the computer labs.

The company had once been owned by LexCorp, and in the collapse of that organization, had been bought out by WayneTech. Now they were used for a variety of projects, from ordinary marketing to advanced physics calculations. The problem was on the third floor, which studied psychics and two different medical research programs. In on of the medical research program rooms, the computers were blowing up, one at a time.

Ready to call the others in at moment's notice, Troia crashed through a window.

There were three computers left, and all but one of the programmers had fled. The one that was left....looked more like a student on an internship. His face reminded Troia of the late Kyle Ranger so much it made her heart ache.

But his hair was longer, he was wider in body frame, and his eyes were an unnaturally bright sickly yellow-green. His face was ill-shaven, giving him a sort of roguish charm. His jaw was clamped shut, and his hands were extended to the computers at either side of the one he was sitting at.

Troia recognized immediately that he was a machine empath, and was trying to use his powers to save the remaining computers.

“It's no good,” she said, rushing to his side. “They'll blow up in you face!”

“I can stop it!” he shouted back, not looking at her.

“There's no time! Computers can be replaced, you can't!”

She grabbed him by his dirty black shirt and yanked him back from the computers. They blew up one after the other.

“Couldn't save them,” he muttered.

“No, you couldn't. But that doesn't mean you have to throw your life away,” Troia said.

“Thank you,” he said, and turned to take her hand.

She shook his hand formally, and felt a spark flow between them. It might have been their powers interacting...she wasn't sure. But it sent a thrill through her, an exciting dangerous thrill that she at once both did and didn't like.

“What's your name?” She asked.

“Eric,” he said. “Eric Forrester. You're Troia, one of the Titans.” He gave a thin smile. That smile was almost creepy...but she liked it, all the same.

“That's right,” she said. “I'm going to go talk to the programmers about the damages, including my damage to the window. But stay put; we'll need to talk about your machine empathy.”

“Sure,” he said, taking her hand again for a moment. She smiled, feeling that disreputable thrill again, then reciprocated, putting her other hand over his for a moment, sustaining the physical contact. Then she let go and walked away to find the programers.

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-7-

Rachel “Raven” Roth was sitting in her room, reading some ancient texts. In theory, if Troia needed help, she would be the first to respond. In actuality, she minded the quiet.

Unlike Scarlet Wing, her school year was over, but she always studied the mystic arts.

The truth was she felt peaceful; her terrible father showed no signs of returning, though she always kept a mystical eye out for that possibility, All of the founding remembers remembered those days, and those that had come after had been warned.

But so far, all was quiet on that front.

She felt happier and more at ease than she had at any time since she joined the team, which now seemed a long time ago. Her relationship with Wallace had increased her peace of mind. Oh, at first they had been a bit awkward, but things had rapidly improved. Now, she wished Wallace had pushed for a more physical relationship sooner. She would never be the brazen bad girl that Tara was, or even the passionate woman that Kory was; but she was and would continue to be, happy. And at peace.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Wallace arrived at the tower at the speed of which only he and a handful of others on this planet were capable. He too was in a much better place mentally, she knew; things were still politically uncomfortable for the Flash family, but Wallace had overcome his injuries—partially with her help—and risen back to the peak of his power. If anything, he had had a more rough time of it recently than she, and he too was much happier for his recovery.

She carefully put the manuscript down, smiling, and spread her arms.

Moving at a somewhat more normal speed, he came to her, and they embraced.

[arcalian]

-8-

Sunset.

Dagon woke.

His specialized coffin—technologically augmented by Cyborg—slid open. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he clambered out.

Never mind those sparkling idiots so popular in vampire fiction lately, infuriating as they were; even more traditional fiction was woefully wrong about the lot of the vampire. Especially when waking from their torpor.

Usually, about this time, Tara would be hurling a packet of synthetic plasma at him. But tonight, when his vision cleared and he looked up, he saw Carrie holding one out for him.

“Thanks,” he said, taking it. “Where's the femme fatale tonight?”

“Gone to one of those disreputable clubs with Kory and Donna,” she said.

“Still not your thing, huh?” Dagon said, and chuckled when Carrie looked down and blushed. “Seriously, thanks kid.”

“You're welcome.”

He noted she was suited up in her Scarlet Wing costume. “Going out on a late night run, then? Not staying in?”

“Nightwing is going to Bludhaven soon. This may be one of the last opportunities we have to patrol with him, outside of Titans business.”

“You're not sweet on him, are ya?” he teased.

She shook her head. “Not in the way you mean. But I have tried to be....'his' Robin.”

Dagon nodded more seriously. “Yeah, I noticed. I think he got tired of that when he was playing substitute Batman all that while. No offense to either the current Robin or you.”

She nodded. “No, I know. Like I say, this may be my last chance at it.” Then, after a pause, she said, “What about you?”

Dagon turned and looked out at the darkening sky, as the first stars were starting to come out. “I dunno about other vampires,” he said. “But me? I don't dream that often. But when I do, it usually means something.”

“And you're dreaming now?” she prompted.

He nodded sourly.

“What of?”

“My past,” he said. “I don't like it. At all.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

There was a long pause as he looked at her with his unsettling eyes. “Not until I have to,” he said, finally.

As the last of his pain subsided, he opened the packet and drank.

[arcalian]

-9-

Donna, Tara and Kory were at a club they didn't frequent as often. It was a little too seedy; not even Tara liked it that much.

Donna was telling them about meeting Eric.

“Why Donna,” Tara said, one eyebrow raised. “You getting the hots for this guy?”

“Not like you would,” Donna said. “But there's something there.....something. I have to admit that. And I think we should take a serious look at his machine empathy.”

“Donna,” Kory said, frowning, “Are you suggesting him for membership?”

Donna smiled and shook her head. “I don't think he'd know what to do with a costume and a code name. Machine empathy powers aren't exactly front line material, anyway. And I think that we have enough members right now. But he bears watching; and it's better for us to do it than, say, Checkmate.”

Both of the others nodded at that.

“Gar's asking meet the Doom Patrol again,” Tara said, scowling.

“You've been faithful to him,” Kory said, “And I call that a good thing.”

“Yeah, thanks. But I think you both know me. And I think you both know—and even Gar knows—that while I'll never cheat on him, I do wish I could loosen him up enough that I could take him with me to a swingers party, or something.”

The other two exchanged a look. “You wouldn't know where to look for one,” Donna said.

“Not in this city. But I hope Gar does loosen up, and that we really can party with other people.”

Kory shook her head, and Donna groaned.

“You know you are gonna have to meet his foster parents,” Donna said eventually.

Tara put her drink down and buried her face in her hands. “I know, and that's what scares me. More than anything else.”

“More than Deathstroke?” Kory said, only half-teasing.

“More than the Black Sun,” Tara answered seriously.

“It won't be as bad as you think,” Donna assured her.

“Yeah, easy enough for you to say. But....yeah, it will be soon. And sooner or later, I'll have to face my past.”

“You mean Geomancer,” Kory prompted. They'd all heard the story of the villain who'd shaped her early career, and Nightwing had confirmed he was at large.

“Yeah.” Tara shook herself. “But enough. We're here to have fun!”

“Yes,” Kory said, turning to the small dance floor. “I think we might want to find a better place next time.”

“No argument,” Donna said, as they all began to dance.

[arcalian]

-10-

Shortly after Midnight.

Kory came in, late but not too late. Her presence was enough to wake Nightwing. They embraced briefly, then slipped past each other. He hit the showers, looked back at her form for a long moment as she subsided into to bed, then suited up. The morning seemed to be a better time for them, usually.

He passed Donna in the hall, and nodded to her briefly. Scarlet Wing and Dagon were waiting for him.

“Both of you coming with me?” he asked.

“Yes, please.” Scarlet Wing flapped her namesake feathers in anticipation. “If you don't mind.”

“Not at all. Dagon?”

“At least at first,” the vampire agreed.

“Right then, let's launch from the roof.” For Scarlet Wing and Dagon, that would be easy; her wings and his gas form were designed for such high altitude starts. But it as a far reach for his zipline; he was considering a new costume with base jumping in mind. But the challenge was part of why he did it, of course.

For a moment, they stood under the moon and stars on the rooftop.

Then they were gone.

END

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