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The Titans: Triptych	By : hentaigoten Category: DC Verse Cartoons - Teen Titans > Crossovers > FemmeSlash Views: 1932 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or JLA. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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#10

The Fate Of Destruction Is Also The Joy Of Rebirth

The breeze was steady, strong, but not overpowering. Winding around air ducts, aerials, communications masts, stirring the clothes wrapped around the meditating figure.

The sun lay hidden, just below the horizon. Clouds stirring to its presence. A rising tide of life stirring into wakefulness once again.

Bright points of light, moving through countless dimensions. Leaving metaphysical imprints wherever they went.

Raven opened her eyes and looked into the newly risen sun.

His feet sank into the mire around him, as he trudged to the building, a hundred metres across open ground.

Mud clung to his stolen garments. The sun had not risen here, yet.

They would find out he had escaped, soon enough. He should be able to evade the police, the FBI taskforce that would bound to be assembled in wake of his escape- probably comprised of the same officers who had formed the same task force that had failed to capture him.

It was his captors from last time that worried him, naturally.

He slipped inside the house, moving swiftly. Searched under floorboards, found what he was looking for- a stash of communications equipment, clothes, money, supplies both physical and metaphysical. Enough to put some plans in motion.

People would be contacted. Plans he’d kept concealed put into motion.

He knuckled his empty eye socket absently. It was a matter of time before they put themselves on the task of recapturing him.

Of course, they were a different team. But then, he’d never revealed all his hand at any one time. He was still one man. But they were still a small team.

He imagined it was even odds.

She hung there, between the sun and the earth. A corona of light spilling round her, illuminating her.

Raven stared unblinking.

“Hi.”

Raven said nothing, but inclined her head.

Koriand’r drifted down beside Raven, tucking her legs under her.

“You’ve been quiet past couple of days.”

“Had to. Not too used to shifting vibrational frequencies like that. Half a dozen senses weren’t working correctly.” Raven only half lied.

“Oh?” Koriand’r tilted her head, then spoke, “No wonder…”

“No wonder what?” Raven asked as Koriand’r trailed off.

“Nothing much. Just been trying to get your attention is all.”

She glanced over at Koriand’r. A frown crossing her face.

“About what?” She asked eventually, conceding defeat- Koriand’r was remarkably unreadable at times.

Which…wasn’t entirely true. There were ways, methods she was unwilling to take.

“Just a movie you wanted to see. The one by that director.”

He finished.

Events were in motion now.

He pulled his mask down over his head.

No turning back now. No second thoughts. No doubts. Only that which furthered his goals had a purpose.

It was what he did.

He tossed the remote up control, letting it fall, catching it.

Up, fall, catch. Up, fall, catch.

The TV blared, but he didn’t pay attention, muttering names under his breath.

Animal Man? No, someone else had that name, didn’t they? Maybe they wouldn’t notice if he used it.

Well, someone was bound to. Which would be embarrassing.

No, something else. Like…

Beast Man!

No, that would be…embarrassing.

No, he needed something else…

The control fell to the floor, broke.

The alarm went off.

Darkness enclosed them.

Lights flicked in front of them. Patterns of light. Colour, motion.

Warm, heavy darkness pressed in. A comfortable warmth, not like the oppressive summers common to the city.

Her clothes were basic, loose, comfortable, unobtrusive, plain, unassuming.

HER clothes were mismatched, clashing, bright, loud, schizophrenic, crazed.

They sat together in the darkness.

It had been pathetically easy to get this far.

A dozen guards lay maimed and dead. He’d already hit their computerised defences with a combined assault from a logic bomb and a metaphysical conjuring, crippling it and leaving it open to his will.

Bombs had detonated throughout the city, distracting emergency services. Phantom reports were being dropped throughout the emergency networks. Bribed officials were hesitating between fear of him, desire for more money, and the instinct to act on the events happening around them.

A massed assault from a hidden storage depot had used the last of his robots in an attack against the nearest major military base. He estimated it would take them a full twenty minutes to repel the attack, and another fifteen before they could react to the assault on the city.

Effectively, the city was crippled. No police. No military. Chaos and panic reigned.

They would have tried to stop him, once they realised where he was heading.

The shaped charge blew open the armoured shutter to the secure elevator shaft. Clipping a rappelling hoist to the cable, he let himself enter freefall.

The shaft led directly down, for nearly half a mile. All defences had been disable- no automated guns, no charges to seal the shaft, to poison gas, no electromagnetic stasis fields.

He had nearly a minute to fall.

They would have found out where he was heading, without the precautions. They would have spared no expense in stopping him.

There was only one group he couldn’t cripple in this way, and it couldn’t have been any other way.

He fell, descending from Central Level to Terminal Level.

The explosion flung the doors out into the corridor.

He sprinted out, through the smoke, taking it all in with a glance.

Lab technicians, scientists- some still fleeing to emergency shelters. Guards, hastily armed. A dozen of them. They’d provide a little challenge.

Rounds sprang back and forth.

He leapt into their midst, crushing bones and rupturing organs.

In moments it was over.

He ignored everyone not armed, baring throwing them aside. Time was against him. It was why he’d done everything he could do to give himself more of it.

He saw non combatants trying to call for support. He ignored them. They wouldn’t get any.

He started work on the computers.

Beyond lay the centre of the Terminal Lab- a massive, vaulted door.

Beyond that.

Smoke and screams and sirens and orders and wails rose up from the city.

He emerged from the open vault, steam and distortion spreading out from it. A rugged backpack, heavy and bulky, was on his back. The straps strained.

Everyone else had gone, fled to shelters probably. Desks had been overturned, corpses trampled, computers and delicate equipment smashed.

He looked up, slightly.

Under the mask, he smiled. They were later than he expected.

They tore into the room, exploding out of the single elevator shaft.

He reached to his belt, drew his weapon of choice. A traditional choice, given his enemy. One they knew.

The staff extended, and he shifted his pose, glancing at their formation, at their body gestures, taking everything in.

They’d hurried here. Uniforms hastily thrown on.

He didn’t think they knew what was in here. They were here for him.

“Well, then.”

They didn’t say anything.

Raven inclined her head in his direction.

“Slade.”

He sprang forward, his staff blurring in an arc of motion.

A blur of fangs and fur and claws reeled away.

He threw charges to his side, explosions mixing with explosions. Yellow and grey and orange and red, mixed with otherworldly greens.

Something enveloped him, dark and cloying and oppressive. He broke through hard.

A few words muttered under his breath.

A rip in physical space opened up in front of him.

He plunged through.

Someone followed him.

They plunged hundreds of metres, trading blows every foot down.

Their passage tore up an apartment block.

Concrete and wood and fabric and metal and lives.

They stopped, halfway down.

He leapt up, a kick catching her in the kidneys. She responded, a blow catching him on his chin. Blood trickled through his mask.

He struck out with his foot, stamping down, catching her foot, bones snapping under the impact.

She didn’t make a sound. Merely leapt forward, slamming her knee into his gut, grasping his shoulders, slamming her forehead into his nose.

He felt it crack, retaliated with his own head butt. She hit him again, clawing at his face as his nose cracked and sputtered blood.

They slammed into a wall, demolishing it.

The floor creaked and groaned underneath them.

She leapt up, slamming a foot into his face.

He pulled her down, his hand extended, his fingers a flat palm, into her throat.

She spat blood in his face as the floor collapsed.

Covered in dust, bleeding and shaken, he arose.

She staggered upright.

They looked across the splintered room at each other.

Screams and yells filled the building around them.

People running, shouting. Trying to understand what happened.

Some just screamed.

She was holding her own, in a field of combat not her speciality.

He could give her that much.

The rough transit had disabled any attempt at chance at metaphysical combat. They had enough energy and focus to augment their physical abilities, and nothing more.

They leapt forward.

Bones cracked, skin split, blood flowed.

Something rose up out of the STAR labs.

A blur, burning all in its way as it made its way into the sky.

He let his body go slack for just a moment.

He pushed the pain away from his consciousness even as he used it to identify his wounds.

Ruptured kidney. Cracked ribs. Severe bleeding. Heavy bruising. Split lip. Shattered teeth. Multiple broken bones.

He looked at his opponent, slumped against a wall. Bloodied. Bruised.

But not broken.

She still struggled to move, to get up, to fight.

“I must congratulate you.” He said, his words barely altered by blood and concussions.

Her lips moved, but only blood emerged.

“But who do you fight for? To prove you are not your father’s child? To show how worthy you are to the League? To show the world you are not a daemon? To show…”

He paused, glanced up.

“Hrn.”

He looked back down at her.

“I think I understand. Well, then. To those two battles, I wish you well.”

He turned.

“But don’t get in my way.”

Concrete.

Cold.

Grey.

Green.

Light.

Strobe.

Bandages.

Hands.

Unfamiliar.

Linen.

Changed.

Home.

Hands.

Familiar.

HERS.

Her eyes opened.

“Our methods differ, our excuses differ. But surely you realise the truth.

“Our goals are the same.”

She sat up, blinked.

She couldn’t see properly.

A bandage covered her right eye.

Bandages bound her wounds.

The flow of energies around her was barely detectable.

“I lost my way, doctor.”

She looked over.

She was standing there. Concern evident.

“I couldn’t find him. He must have escaped.”

Raven didn’t reply.

“I’ll find him.”

“I.”

“I’ll make him pay.”

“I lost.”

“I’ve called in some favours. You’ll be taken care of.”

“I lost my.”

“They say the transit…”

“I lost my way.”

“…damaged you.”

“I lost my way, doctor.”

Words tumbled in her mind. None of them hers.

But she still thought.

Something wrenched in her mind.

Her consciousness receded.

This would take time.

All fell.

All would rise.

Islands merged, split.

Rocks tumbled into night, only to return in time.

Comatose eyes stared at a starless sea.

Two fingers emerged from the collective thought process.

Two titans.

Representatives.

The hooded, cloaked figures gazed at them, faces unmoving.

Eyes blazing with hidden thought.

They were the only two that mattered.

Figures moved around their feet, ants in the path of titans.
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The Titans: Triptych