Where does the tic go, when the wolf is dead?

by Birdegg

Summary:

“All will not be well, Starfire. We don’t know why Wonder Woman did that, or if that was even the real Slade—”

“That was Slade.” Her voice comes out emotionless but sure. She didn’t intend to volunteer that information, but controlling her own impulses seems to be miles away from her right now. Most of the heads in the room turn to look at her.
Beast Boy stays completely still, eyes closed. She’s not sure he’s hearing anything. Cyborg isn’t in the room. When had he left the room?

“How can you be sure?” Robin asks harshly, fists clenching. Terra blinks slowly and breathes out through her nose. She knows because it was embarrassing. Slade would never, ever let himself lose so publicly, so pathetically. Wonder Woman had batted him around like a cat with a ball of yarn. No matter how beneficial, Slade would never humiliate himself, not for a plan or for anything.

His head had splattered like a watermelon hitting a concrete road.

---

Slade is killed live on TV. Terra, in the midst of infiltrating the Teen Titans, is left completely adrift.

Notes:

Hello readers :) This fic has been a real passion project for me. I don't see a lot of fics from Terra's perspective, so I felt I'd toss this into the ring.
Warning for Terra's self destructive thoughts and actions, and the abuse she suffered at the hands of Slade. Nothing is too explicit, but be careful.

Chapter 1: Chicken Sandwich

Terra watches as Slade’s smashed into pieces in front of her, speechless as all the rest of the Titans.

Robin had a special alert for any news of Slade, and they’d been peacefully eating breakfast when it had gone off. There’d been a series of swears and sleepy grumbles as Robin had herded them all to the main monitor, turning on the live video that was appearing on the local news station.

Slade had been fighting Wonder Woman, of all people. Everyone had immediately started asking questions, speaking over each other and gesturing to the monitor. Why was Wonder Woman here, in Jump City? Why was she fighting Slade? Didn’t she have higher priorities?

Terra hadn’t joined in. She had stared silently at the monitor, eyes wide and unblinking. Slade was superhumanly strong and fast, skilled from his years of mercenary work and time in the military. Wonder Woman was stronger, faster, and had such a fluid grace and ability with her weapons that she seemed almost godlike.

It had ended abruptly when she’d blocked Slade in close to a building and punched his skull in.

Now all of the Titans had quieted abruptly, staring at the screen in complete stillness. Terra felt…odd. Her fingertips were almost numb, divorced from her bodily sensations. Her chest felt sore, or maybe heavy, but it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt, she just felt…a strange separation from herself.

What should she be feeling right now? Her mentor just died in front of her. Should she be sad? Angry on his behalf? Relieved?

She felt nothing at all.

“Terra.” Raven’s voice, always so cool and composed, has a noticeable tremor running through it. Terra wonders if she’s ever watched another person die before. Terra swallows and turns to the shorter girl, blinking down at her expectantly.

Raven’s grey skin looks paler than normal, her shoulders stiff.

“What?” Terra responds belatedly.

“Sit down.” Terra backs up a few paces, the backs of her thighs bumping into the couch. She allows herself to collapse into it, accidentally slamming her elbow into Beast Boy, who’s already sitting dazed beside her. He grunts in pain but doesn’t speak, looking up at her with wide eyes. He looks impossibly young.

Normally, Beast Boy hesitates to transform around her out of combat. He never shies away from pestering Raven as a puppy, wrestling with Cyborg as a bear or cuddling with Starfire as a lion. But he usually transforms back to his human form when he spots her watching, cheeks flushed a dark green. Right now, he doesn’t seem to care, turning into a raccoon beside her. He doesn’t get any closer to her, just stays in a curled up little ball by her legs, dark eyes closed tightly.

“—And then you can contact The Batman. All will be well, Robin.” Terra abruptly tunes into the conversations happening around her, Starfire’s calm voice filtering in first. Robin is backed against the wall, shoulders up to his ears as Starfire stands close, hands clutching his arms.

Starfire is almost eerily undisturbed. She’s not floating like she normally does, and her brows are creased with concern, but she doesn’t seem as wrecked as Robin, or any of the other Titans.

Robin looks up at her, furious and scared.

“All will not be well, Starfire. We don’t know why Wonder Woman did that, or if that was even the real Slade—”

“That was Slade.” Her voice comes out emotionless but sure. She didn’t intend to volunteer that information, but controlling her own impulses seems to be miles away from her right now. Most of the heads in the room turn to look at her.

Beast Boy stays completely still, eyes closed. She’s not sure he’s hearing anything. Cyborg isn’t in the room. When had he left the room?

“How can you be sure?” Robin asks harshly, fists clenching. Terra blinks slowly and breathes out through her nose. She knows because it was embarrassing. Slade would never, ever let himself lose so publicly, so pathetically. Wonder Woman had batted him around like a cat with a ball of yarn. No matter how beneficial, Slade would never humiliate himself, not for a plan or for anything.

His head had splattered like a watermelon hitting a concrete road.

Terra can’t explain how she knows this, so she just stays silent. She reaches out, almost without meaning to, stroking Beast Boy’s fur. He doesn’t protest or move.

Robin turns away from her.

“Here.” Cyborg says, stepping into the living room with a tray full of mugs. Raven gravitates towards him, folding herself into his shadow with her mug clutched tightly. She trails him as Cyborg walks around the room delivering his drinks to everyone. He sets Beast Boy’s on the coffee table. Terra compliantly takes hers when he hands it to her, staring at the brown liquid within.

Hot chocolate. They just watched their nemesis skull get blown up on television and his first instinct was to make hot chocolate.

He sets the try down and turns to Raven, pulling her to his side with one arm. She looks miniscule tucked into him like this, the shadow from her hood hiding her expression.

Batman calls the Tower, and they’re all sent out so Robin can talk to him alone. Starfire hovers in the hallway and looks worried in Robin’s general direction. Terra finds her room and slams the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She sleeps for hours. Doesn’t bother to take off any of her clothes, just falls into bed and is dead to the world.

When she wakes, she finds she hasn’t even turned or tossed in her sleep. Her body is covered in sweat, which dries against her skin in the air-conditioned room. Her mouth tastes like salt and garbage.

Terra sits at the foot of her bed and thinks.

So. Slade is dead. She can have (or not have) as many feelings about that as she wants, but she needs to think practically. Earlier, she’d been in too much shock to think of what his death meant for her.

Terra mechanically takes out the contact lenses that have little cameras in them. She pokes herself in the eye for her troubles, working without a mirror in the darkened room. Did she turn the light off when she went to her room? She can’t remember.

The lenses are almost invisible on her fingertips, just faintly reflecting the light from the small window at the top of her room.

Her mission is over. It hadn’t been any contract, just Slade’s personal issues with the Titans that had found her as a spy, so it wasn’t like she had to inform anyone that the mission was cancelled. Could she just…continue as she was? Pretend to be a Titan forever? Pretend that she’d always been genuine and had never planned on stabbing them all in the back?

 That would be easiest. She wouldn’t have to do anything she wasn’t already doing.

Somehow, the idea revolted her. How clean and easy it was, how it let her get away scot-free. As if she deserved any of this.

What was the alternative? Betraying them for no reason was just stupid.

She could…tell them. Reveal her original motivations. They’d probably arrest her, kick her from the team for sure. She didn’t get points for coming clean when the jig was already up. They would know that the only reason she’d said anything was because Slade was dead.

Terra traced her fingers over a scar on her knee. She’d gotten it dodging a blow from Slade, skidding her knees over the debris from the concrete she’d overturned. She’d done pretty well in that fight; Slade had been almost proud of her. She can still remember his hand heavy on her shoulder, a small smile on his face.

Terra stands abruptly and begins to pace.

Whatever choice she makes; it would change everything. She couldn’t just make some impulse decision and hope things worked out—Slade wasn’t here to clean up her mess. She’d always hated the scolding and punishments he’d doled out whenever he thought she fucked up with the Titans, but without his keen eye for strategy she felt set adrift. Better a heavy hand than no hand at all.

Except…if she didn’t tell the Titans, then she could still make another choice. As long as she played it cool, she could still change her mind and confess later on. It was taking the least nuclear option.

It was also cowardly and spineless, but she’d always been those things.

With this decided, Terra left her room. The Tower was dark, the lights from Jump City occasionally reflecting against the floor from windows in golden shards. Creeping past the other rooms felt even more illicit than it had when she’d been snooping.

The kitchen was just as abandoned as the rest of the Tower.

It looked as homey and disorganized as it ever had. The cupboard door was open, Raven’s neatly organized teas catching her eye. Starfire’s minifridge hummed loudly on the counter, its contents hidden from sight. She’d mistakenly opened it once, when she’d first arrived at the Tower, and had almost gagged from the smell alone. She wasn’t sure what concoctions Starfire had created and saved, but they smelt strongly of dumpster. Terra was very familiar with dumpster smell—the vague idea that some of these foods might have smelt pleasant by themselves, but together trapped in a hot metal container they had taken on a horrible stench.

Beast Boy had left a plate on the counter. Traces of sticky syrup remained on the porcelain, which meant Cyborg would likely lecture him in the morning, complaining that ants were going to show up. Terra would applaud any ants who managed to get all the way up the Titans Tower, but she kept her nose out of that argument.

He probably wouldn’t lecture Beast Boy this morning. He’d probably just clean it up quietly.

Terra cracked her knuckles in the dark.

She wasn’t sure she was hungry, but she hadn’t broken her late night snacking habits since she’d arrived at the Tower, and she wouldn’t start now. Slade had always banned her from eating outside of meals (with the exception of water and granola bars), which she hadn’t been too bitter about since he’d made large meals. Slade hadn’t been a bad cook—nowhere near Cyborg’s excellence, but not bad for a single man living alone.

She’d never eat his chicken sandwiches again. He always insisted on having the chicken be cold.

Terra throws open the fridge door, squinting at the sudden flash of the fridges lights. She pulls out several tupperwares, piling them on top of each other. She crouches, scooting back till her spine presses against the lower cabinet. She drags her bounty with her, the Tupperware bracketed between her legs.

She opens up the one on the top of the small tower. Spaghetti. She doesn’t have a fork.

Terra leaves the fridge door open, because she’s too tired to close it. She eats the spaghetti with her fingers, because she’s too tired to get cutlery.

Terra cries into her cold noodles, because she’s too tired not to.

Chapter 2: Leech

Terra wakes to the sound of Cyborg complaining to himself as he washes the dishes. Or more accurately, the Tupperware she’d left on the floor before crawling to the living room and collapsing on the rug.

She feels uncomfortably nauseous from consuming all the left-overs they had in the fridge. Her fingers and toes are numb from the air conditioned room—she hadn’t even bothered to clamber onto the couch and grab the throw blanket.

Something pokes her leg.

Terra forces herself to sit up, glaring groggily at Beast Boy. He bites his lip, plainly worried about her. Which is fair, since she’s laying on the ground even though she has a nice comfy bed available.

“What.” She grumbles, rubbing her eyes with her fist. They’re full of gross gunk.

“You okay, man?” Beast Boy asks, voice tilting high in concern. Terra groans and waves his emotions away with her hand.

“Yeah, I’m peachy. Give me a sec.” She lifts herself to her feet with some effort, back twinging in complaint. Her body’s getting awfully comfortable with her recent standards of living. Take a girl off the streets for two years and she gets spoiled pretty quick.

Once she’s standing she gives Beast Boy a solid pat on the back, ignoring the squeak he makes in response.

As if sensing her return to consciousness, Cyborg turns their way. The kitchen and living room being connected without walls or doors means that there’s nowhere for her to hide from his disapproving gaze.

“Did you leave Tupperware all over the floor?” Cyborg asks, the slight against his orderly kitchen too much even for any sensitivity he might have employed. Terra scratches the back of her neck.

“I was hungry?”

She gets a disapproving look for her trouble, but Cyborg mercifully turns away. Beast Boy doesn’t let the matter go; eyes wide.

“You ate all that food?” He asks, impressed and horrified. Terra misses when she was new and Beast Boy was too afraid of insulting her to mention how much she ate. Still, she did consume more than she usually does in a single sitting.

“I was hungry.” She repeats, flatly.

Beast Boy opens his mouth to respond, but he’s swept up by Starfire as she passes by. She holds him like one might a cushion—pressed to her chest and with no visible strain. Beast Boy doesn’t struggle, hanging complacently from her grip, only blushing when he spots Terra watching.

Starfire carries him into the kitchen.

When Terra had first come to the Tower the physicality of the other Titans had surprised her. Robin was the only one who seemed uncomfortable with affectionate touch—even cold-hearted Raven was willing to be swept up in an embrace or hold hands. Having spent two years with Slade, the difference was stark.

Slade always meant something when he was touching you. There was always a point. It was a rare reward for a job well done, it was a beating, it was a hint, heavy and humid with intentions. Terra had hated his touch as much as she craved it.

The Titans were careful to stay out of her personal space. Mostly.

Terra follows Starfire and Beast Boy into the kitchen, settling down into one of the swiveling stools that lined one side of the kitchen counter. Cyborg was making pancake batter, carefully keeping an eye on the bacon sizzling away as he did.

Starfire deposited Beast Boy into the chair beside her and then proceeded to hover just behind Terra.

“…Friends, I am very worried about you all” Starfire began, ignoring the awkward aura that descended as she spoke “and I am especially worried about Robin.”

That was fair. Robin was a nutcase about Slade. Both of them were the type to like to be the smartest bastard in the room, both were the type that hated being fooled or tricked. Not to mention the fact that Slade had captured Robin when Terra had been out of town—that couldn’t have been pretty.

“Robin should be dancing for joy” Terra muttered, spinning in slow circles as she did “He hated Slade.”

“He did not want Slade dead.” Starfire shot back, sounding defensive and also vaguely confused. Terra got the vibe that no one had explained the ‘no killing rule’ that the Titans had in a way that made sense to her.

Same, bestie.

“He’s not sure Slade is dead.” Cyborg said as he poured the batter onto the griddle. Beast Boy slumped beside her, resting his head on the counter with a sigh.

“And I won’t be sure, until I get evidence.” They all startled at the sound of Robin’s voice, turning to see the subject of conversation as he walked into the kitchen. His skin was beginning to break out, and his hair was tousled.

“Heeeey Rob!” Beast Boy squeaked, making them all seem more guilty than they already were. Terra snickered.

Cyborg huffed but didn’t reply, flipping a pancake.

“You don’t trust Wonder Woman to know whether she killed a guy or not?”  Terra asks lazily, propping her head up on the counter. Robin gave her a dirty look, which! She was right! Did he think he was such a super genius that he was going to correct Wonder Woman’s work?

“Slade is notoriously tricky.” Robin sidestepped the accusation, standing a couple steps away from her with his arms crossed. Terra should really leave the argument here, but a prickle of something bitter and angry had begun creeping up on her. What did Robin know about Slade? He hadn’t figured out that Terra was working for him, and Terra was hardly winning any Oscars.

“Slade was tricky.” She shot back, tilting her voice towards a sort of cloying sweetness, like she was talking to a toddler. Robin’s shoulders stiffened.

“What did the Batman say?” Starfire interrupted, floating between the two of them.

“…he’s looking into it.” Robin replied, gritting his teeth. Reading in between the lines there, Terra could bet that Robin had not been invited to go investigating with his mentor. She snorted.

Cyborg startled her by reaching over the counter and grabbing the edge of her seat, spinning the barstool so she was facing him. He looked disproving.

Terra rolled her eyes.

“Alright, we’ll talk about this later. Y’all sit your butts down and eat.” Obediently, they all scattered to find a chair, taking deep breaths of the delicious breakfast smells wafting over the room.

“Where’s Rae?” Beast Boy asked, grabbing a large fork and stabbing several pancakes before lifting them to his plate.

“I knocked on her door but she told me she wanted to meditate longer.” Robin’s tone was neutral, but the slight curl of his mouth betrayed his worry. Raven mediated a lot but she didn’t usually miss meals.

“Who knew Raven was sensitive about death.” Terra muttered, as if she herself hadn’t been visibly disturbed. She grabbed the syrup and poured it over her pancakes, startling a little at Robin’s sudden and sharp outtake of breath.

She hadn’t even meant to poke at the ‘is Slade dead bear’ but apparently even her subconscious was snippy.

“It makes very much sense to me” Starfire said, sounding thoughtful “Raven is very gentle.”

Terra had seen Raven throw cars at people and was less convinced of her gentleness, but she stayed quiet. Partially because she was a little enraptured with what Cyborg was doing.

He was carefully stacking scrambled eggs on his pancakes, strips of bacon sticking out amount the yellow goop. With the care of a painter he delicately placed two pancakes on top, making an enormous breakfast sandwich.

How he managed to fit that in his mouth, Terra wasn’t sure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two days after Slade’s death, Terra stood in the bathroom closest to her room and stared at the sink. Balanced on it was the container for her contact lenses, which looked deceptively innocent for the situation. She chewed on her lip, thinking.

What was she supposed to do with these things? The contact lenses themselves had no storage capacity for recorded video—they broadcasted to Slade’s base where they were downloaded. Even if Robin found them and discovered the recording function, he would have no way of knowing what they recorded.

It would still be damning. It was clearly covert technology, and with Robin as obsessed as he was, there was a chance he would immediately correlate them with Slade, even without evidence.

She should throw them away. How many times did the Titans face lava or toxic waste? She could just drop it in the next pit of ooze she encountered—or even easier, straight into the ocean. She could crush them and burry them underground.

Keeping them would be…self sabotage. Unless she wanted to get caught.

Terra sighed and tucked them back into her pocket.

She was cursed with indecision. This wasn’t usually a problem—normally Terra did whatever she felt like, acted on her impulses, listened to her hunches. She had never gotten people who worried about their choices—who had the time! But recently she had begun to understand things a bit better.

When you had more to lose, thinking things through seemed more appealing. Her old choices as a homeless kid had sometimes been life or death, but she had known that there was little point in fretting when chances were every outcome would suck.

No one wanted to say it, but all lives had a price tag on them. Some were pricey, expensive and valuable. Her life had been worth pennies for so long that she wasn’t quite used to betting with stacks of cash.

Terra washed her hands just to do something, and left the bathroom.

The Tower was almost empty, Cyborg, Beast Boy and Starfire having gone out shopping. Robin was rather ambiguously “out”. Raven was probably in the Tower, but she’d been avoiding everyone since Slade had been killed.

Terra walked as quietly as she could through the empty halls. She was used to big silent compounds, but the Titans Tower always felt eerie like this. It was usually so full of noise and people.

Raven was floating in front of one of the giant windows. Her robe flowed softly behind her, as if pulled by an invisible current.

Terra wrinkled her nose. She found meditation kind of freaky. It was supposed to be some wellness bullshit but it always felt more like smothering something when Raven did it.

Raven had probably noticed her by now. She always seemed to know when people were near her unless she was really distracted. Except Raven wasn’t the type to ask what you wanted all mysterious, broadcasting that she knew you had crept behind her. Instead she ignored everyone, probably hoping they’d get the hint and fuck off.

“Is it my imagination or are you somehow paler than usual?” Terra asked, just to be annoying. Truthfully Raven always looked like a corpse.

“What would you like, Terra.”

Terra huffed. “Nothing. Have you eaten in the last few days?”

“Cyborg has insured it.” Yeah, no doubt he had. Cyborg liked to ‘mom’ the other Titans, though he got indignant when she’d said so.

“…are you upset that Slade is dead?” Terra couldn’t help but wonder aloud before promptly correcting herself “Sorry, I meant are you repressing the upset you might have felt about Slade’s death?”

Raven had the same neutral expression she always wore, yet she managed to convey a scowl. Maybe through sheer will alone.

“…I do not like seeing death.” Raven said quietly after a pause. She looked out the window, dark eyes roaming across the city landscape. “Nor do I like waste. I have seen few who wasted their lives as Slade did.”

It was a surprisingly open thing to say for someone who generally didn’t communicate a lot. Terra blinked.

“…It’s all perspective though, right? I’m sure Slade thought he was having a merry time. All that murdering and stuff wouldn’t have been a waste to him.”

Raven said nothing, but eventually turned to look at Terra.

With the sunlight falling on her face Terra could see how deeply blue her eyes were. Almost indigo.

“It was a waste.” She repeated, softly.

Terra felt a cold itch crawl up her back. She laughed, awkwardly.

“Whatever you say, boss.” Terra took that moment to strategically retreat, moving past Raven to the kitchen. A sliver of ice clung to her spine for the rest of the day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You’re dreaming of me?” Slade asked, poised against the dark alleyway like an actor playing a thug. Terra kicked her shoes against the ground.

She was wearing her new Titans outfit, but her hair was shorter and her nails were dirty and torn. Not quite the present, not quite the past.

“I guess.” She replied sullenly after a pause, looking through her unwashed locks that draped over her face.

Blood was dripping down Slade’s neck from the chin of his mask. Behind him, the wall was stained red.

“Do you miss me that much?” his voice was as low as monotone as ever, a subtle air of a gloat twisting between his teeth.

Terra glared at him. The alley shrunk a little closer, trying to please Slade by keeping her within hitting distance. He patted the wall like a loyal dog. His palm made a wet sound against the gleaming brick.

“I wonder what you’ll do now. If you’ll let it all be for nothing.” He mused idly, smiling beneath the mask.

Terra growled at Slade. “You always know. You know what I’ll do, you know what will happen next. You tell me!”

“I think your ruined no matter what.” She knew without him saying it that he meant he had ruined her before he’d died, before this choice. That he’d taken all the goodness out of her. Like a tic. Or a leech.

“You were the parasite.” He responded to her unspoken words. “I was just a wolf. I didn’t do anything bad to you –I just did what predators do.”

He was a wolf now, completely black with one waxing yellow eye. Blood covered his maw, dripped down his teeth, matted his chest fur.

Terra fell to the ground, and looked up to him as he approached her. Her legs were useless, numb and disconnected. He was large above her.

“I’m just doing what wolves do.” He repeated, almost apologetic. He brought his head down to her stomach and opened his mouth.

Terra woke in her bed, all the blankets pushed off. Her belly was fragile, an egg shell. She felt abruptly like he’d managed to tear out her intestines all in one go, nose buried to her spine.

She laid in the dark until the feeling went away.

She laid in the dark.

Chapter 3: Rip

Beast Boy whined from somewhere to the left of her, the sound distinctly more dog-like than human. As if in response to the noise, several bricks that had been dangling dangerously off the half-destroyed bridge fell, hitting Cyborg in the chest.

Belatedly, Terra raised her arms into the air as if to stop their descent. From their place atop Cyborg’s metal chest plating, the bricks wiggled disobediently.

Terra dropped her arms and went back to staring at the sky.

“I shoulda been on Star’s team” Cyborg griped without much heat, supine as the rest of them.

“You don’t know how it went” Terra argued back, speaking directly upwards and without any clear visual focus “Maybe Rob’s team had to fight a goo monster made out of shit.”

Beast Boy groaned, and a small commotion of rubble shifting briefly filled the air.

“Aw man, don’t—don’t jinx it. We’re gonna be the ones living in the same tower as them.” This was considered a thoughtful point, and both Cyborg and Terra stayed silent in acknowledgement.

Beast Boy, apparently now mobile, crested Terra’s limited horizon, leaning over her laying form. His hair was dripping with river water; ears flicking to try and disperse what liquid had gathered in them. Being leaned over her, he was dripping directly onto her.

Terra blinked up at him stoically. She was so utterly drenched and exhausted; she could not scrape up enough energy to care.

“You look bad.” Beast Boy commented earnestly, before wincing. Cyborg laughed quietly in the background.

Terra fought the urge to roll over and go to sleep.

“Damn that’s crazy.” She said, unable to put much inflection into her tone. Beast Boy scratched the back of his head bashfully and offered her a hand up.

Actually moving her abdominal muscles almost made her break Beast Boy’s hand-bones, but she restrained herself and forced her reluctant body the rest of the way up.

Vertically, everything was much worse.

The nearby bridge had a giant hole in it. Hole was perhaps too neat a word—the entire middle of the bridge had been blasted violently down the river, along with Cyborg, Terra, and Beast Boy. Several nearby buildings were similarly damaged, if less so, and Terra could already see the little vein in Robin’s temple that would pulse when the damage reports came in.

The weird lizard creature that had shot pressurized water at them had vanished into smelly smoke when they finally pierced its thick armor, so there was no bad guy to lock up for their efforts. If Robin managed to track down the weird guy cosplaying as a sorcerer, they’d at least have someone to blame for all the creatures who’d been causing havoc in Jump, but that didn’t exactly fix the current situation.

The rampant “redirection” of the local river had left certain areas minorly flooded or at least soaked. Terra herself had been dropped into the drink twice, and she’d never been an especially proficient swimmer. Her mom had wanted to sign her up for one of those kiddy swimming lessons at the pool, but that generally required money, which the household was not especially known for having.

Luckily, Slade had given her a crash course, so she didn’t drown stupidly—

A brief set of vertigo made her close her eyes tightly. Right. Still dead.

A long painful groan made her blink her eyes open, watching Beast Boy struggle to pull Cyborg up from his supine position on the ground. It was a testament to how long the fight had gone on that he didn’t change forms to do so—apparently changing rapidly made him sore. Information she had cheerfully delivered back to Slade when he’d told her. Strange how many things people reveal about themselves when they think they’re among friends.

Finally, Cyborg pushed himself up, the lack of resistance to Beast Boys pulling almost sending him flying. On a different day, she’s sure Cyborg would have laughed, or Beast Boy would have retaliated. Drained, all he does is huff and put his hands disapprovingly on his hips.

“Chill, didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Whatever.” Beast Boy sighs and rubs the back of his head, grimacing at the squelch the river water makes at the contact. Terra laughs quietly, and watches how his ears flick in her direction, a slight smile tugging briefly at his lips.

“Do you have the energy to fix any of this?” Cyborg asks Terra distractedly, shaking his leg to try and flick off the seaweed that’s clinging desperately to the metal casing. Terra ponders a world where his body isn’t water-proof, and shudders.

“Not if you want it done well.” She replies dryly, surveying the damage around them. Truthfully, she could if pressed; she’s exhausted, sore, her ribs feel bruised, she over-used her powers—but she’s learned exactly how far she can push her body if she really needs to. If it was between failing a test from Slade or stretching her limits, the choice was obvious.

Terra wobbles a little and begins walking towards where they parked the T-Car.

“Hey, you good Terra?” Cyborg asks from behind her, his heavier footsteps rushing slightly.

“Yeah, just. Sore.”

“I feel like a sock put into a laundry machine” Terra snickers and cocks her head back at Beast Boy. What a shit metaphor. He smiles back, his prominent lower fangs glinting in the sunlight.

“We’ll give everyone a quick check-up when we get back to the Tower.” Ignoring Beast Boy’s comment, and Terra’s instant scowl at his proclamation, Cyborg brings up his communicator and pings Robin.

Terra hates check-ups. They’re the bane of her existence for so many reasons.

“When we get home, I’m going to lay down on the rug and never move again.” Beast Boy moans, coming into step with her and walking by her side. She has the distinct impression that he’s trying to distract her. Terra grunts in vague agreement, pressing her hand experimentally to her side. Definitely something wrong there.

“Cyborg, how did the mission go on your end?” Robin’s slightly tinny voice rang out from the communicator Cyborg was holding behind them. Terra didn’t bother to look backwards, focusing her attention onto her feet so she didn’t stumble on the debris.

“It went well, in that we beat that thing and we’re all okay.” A pause. “-ish. It was a tough battle though.”

“Yeah, we got thrown into the river like fifteen times!” Beast Boy pipes in, vaguely outraged. Terra raised her head to peek backwards.

“…I see.” Robin’s face said that he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with the complaints about this mission that would probably go on for about a week. “Did the creature you fought turn into smoke after you got past it’s defences?”

“Yep. Gone like in a magic show.” In turn with his response, Cyborg splayed his fingers out, miming the sudden disappearance.

Robin muttered something intensely to himself, too quiet to make out. “Same with ours, obviously. No trace of the caster either. I wonder how large his range is…”

“Hey, did you, Star or Raven get the shit kicked out of you at all?” Terra asked abruptly, raising her voice to be heard. Gar snickered and Cyborg smirked. Robin looked less amused.

“No. Our long-range attacks were an advantage. Next time we’ll have to re-adjust team composition for better balance.” A moment of silence. “Does the difficulty of this fight mean that there was a large amount of property damage?” Robin’s voice was testy, and he most certainty was directing that at her.

Cyborg grinned. “Sorry Rob, you’re breaking up.”

“Cyborg-”

The call cut. Beast Boy let out a genuine belly laugh as Cyborg made a mock salute at Terra.

She made the gesture back and turned around, the smile on her face entirely involuntary. Something about that—about doing her a solid, backing her up against Robin, even just in a silly way—it made her chest feel a little warm.

She clenched her fist and focused hard on the road they were walking on the side of.

“Ah, finally, back to my baby.” Instantly recognizing his horrific pet name, Terra looked up to see the T-car parked beneath an overpass. They were far enough away from the scene of the fight that it was perfectly undisturbed, which was good since Cyborg probably would have shit himself otherwise.

“Yeah, but uh, do we have towels? Cause otherwise…” Beast Boy motioned to his whole body, which had only mostly ceased to drip. Terra’s long hair was still practically raining river water—if she looked back the way they came, she could track herself easily.

Cyborg paused and swore.

“Definitely should have been on Star’s team.” Beat Boy and Terra nodded in solidarity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her life was a nightmare.

Terra grit her teeth in pain as she attempted to de-tangle, running her comb through her soaked hair roughly. The sharp sting from her roots was not only painful but irritating, like the same mosquito coming back to bite her repeatedly.

Beast Boy was in the medical room, getting his stupid post-mission-check-up. Across from her Starfire was examining the back of her elbow. Though she looked mostly untouched from battle, there was a small cut there on the fleshier part of her arm.

The comb’s teeth got stuck in a knot—again. Terra snarled, yanking the useless tool and throwing it across the waiting room. It hit the wall with a weak and unsatisfying sound.

Starfire’s face was sympathetic, which Terra found annoying. Star’s hair was made of like—magical lava lamp energy that somehow still kind of felt like hair. It never got tangled.

The gall of some people.

“Would you like assistance?” Starfire asked, floating hesitantly closer.

Terra’s nerves prickled, and she forced her hair to stay down and un-glowing. She was in a shit mood, but she generally didn’t like people touching her hair—or her neck.

Still… Starfire’s face was genuine and open, and her hair was clumped together in a way that was violently unpleasant.

“I—fuck, yeah, sure.” She grumbled, watching as Starfire brightened (literally) and went to retrieve the comb.

“Are you going to deal with your cut first?”

Star, now with the banished comb, floated back towards Terra. She paused, considered her words, and brought her arm up to her mouth, licking the cut.

Terra curled her toes and tried not to look visually weirded-out. Apparently Tamaranean spit was healing for their species, which was maybe also a human thing? Or was that dogs? She couldn’t remember Beast Boys animal fact, but some sort of creature’s spit was healing. Either way, getting a cut on your finger and sucking the blood away quickly was pretty normal, but full-on licking—like with the head motion and everything—it was a step too far.

It wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d seen Starfire do, and since no one else really reacted anytime she’d done it, Terra forced herself to look at least a little neutral.

Starfire either didn’t notice, or was being polite, calmly moving behind Terra to get into position.

She’d had her teammates at her back before, and it always freaked her out slightly. It was somehow worse without any external distraction, when Starfire’s sole focus was on her. She resisted the urge to squirm like a little kid who had to pee.

“I’m going to start now!” Starfire announced, before gently grabbing a section of the end of Terra’s hair. The grip was in no way painful, but it was tight, and a moment of hot, vibrant panic flashed through Terra. Her shoulders raised, and she forced them back down with the finality of slamming a door.

Chill the fuck out she berated herself.

With her grip so firmly on the section she had chosen, Terra could hardly feel the comb going through the bottom ends of her hair. It already seemed like a better tactic than Terra’s style, which was to rip it through as fast as possible and throw away whatever strands of hair she ripped out.

Was this what Slade meant when he said she brushed her hair wrong?

Terra shoved her hands under her thighs and set in to wait. While Starfire’s method wasn’t painful, the gentle force would probably mean it would take longer. Listlessly, she moved her gaze around the waiting room.

It was one of the many weirdly specific rooms in the Tower and placed directly beside the medical room. Since trips to the medical room were often done one at a time, anyone with various non-lethal/serious injuries would wait on the many couches and chairs for their turn. There were even several hospital beds in the corner, in case someone needed to be laid out. What the hell were hospital beds called. Wheeled beds? Gurneys? Or was a gurney a different thing. She’d never been to a hospital—all her information came from pop culture and the bad soap operas Beast Boy and Starfire watched.

“Is anything hurting?” Starfire asked, still devoted to her task. Terra started to shake her head, before stilling.

“All good. Super, uh…soft? Not painful?” Ugh.

Starfire hummed and didn’t respond. It was actually kind of nice. Even though there was a vague fear that Starfire would use her super strength to ram the teeth of the comb through her nape, breaking through the vertebrae in her neck and killing her near instantly—there was also a sort of weirdly hypnotic feeling to the ministrations too. Slowly going through each section with methodical strokes, only the vaguest sensation of pulling…was this what Beast Boy felt when he got pets as a cat?

The comb moved closer to the top of her head, but the scraping of the teeth along her scalp was nice, like itching a scratch.

“All done” Starfire withdrew, and for a moment Terra almost protested, before immediately shutting up. How could she be done already—normally it took Terra much longer.

Something about that felt…wrong. Terra’s way was painful, but that also meant it was the most efficient. How could Starfire’s technique be both pleasant and faster?

“You’re good at that” She complimented, shoving her mixed feelings down. Starfire smiled down at her; eyes closed with the force of her grin.

They both turned to look when the door that connected the waiting room to medical opened. Beast boy walked out, rubbing his arm with a slightly mulish look.

“He stick you?” Terra asks, unsurprised when he nods back grumpily. Whenever Beast Boy had negative effects due to his powers, Cyborg made sure to draw his blood. He was testing for chemical changes or some shit—it made Terra wary. She was firmly against any procedure which involved needles.

“Yeah, even though its not like he’s a mutation scientist—”

“Terra, you’re next!” Cyborg called from beyond the doorway, likely purposefully interrupting Beast Boy. Terra shared a grimace with Beast Boy and walked over to meet her fate, mostly ignoring Starfire’s cheery “Good luck!”

Inside the adjoined medical room, Cyborg was writing something down on one of his internal logs, using his arm panel as a keyboard. In the corner of the room Raven was standing with a clipboard. The sight was so incongruous that Terra couldn’t help but snort and send a smirk in her direction. Raven’s mouth flattened and she looked down at her board more intensely.

“You want Raven to go or stay?” Cyborg asked distractedly, a question which only further annoyed Terra. Raven could heal people with her powers but she wanted to know how to do it the traditional way too apparently, so she observed Cyborg’s check-ups sometimes. That was all well and fucking dandy, but Terra had a sneaking suspicion that giving the option for Raven to stay in the room or not was something Cyborg did to make her feel less nervous about partially undressing alone in room with a guy that was twice her size.

The intent was stupid—between the two of them, Cyborg was the one in danger in a room alone with Terra. She could collapse this whole building—the whole stupid Titan’s island. The whole stupid godamn city.

And as if Cyborg was some sort of perv. On the perv scale he was pretty low, below Beast Boy and Starfire (but above Raven, who probably was incapable of looking at anyone past the collarbone). Robin was still under consideration—he didn’t seem very motivated by attraction, but he was also one paranoid episode away from installing cameras in the bathrooms. In a pervy way? No, but also was there a way to install cameras in bathrooms that wasn’t pervy—

“Terra?”” Cyborg is facing her now, eyebrow creased slightly in concern. Whoops.

“I don’t care. She can stay if she really wants a peek.”

Raven kept her face orientated towards the clipboard, having raised the object so much that she was partially hiding her face.

Cyborg sighed.

“Alright, whatever. I saw you holding your side after the fight, can we take a look?” Wisely, Cyborg didn’t indicate that she should sit on the examination table—something that she had reacted to embarrassingly aggressively some previous time ago.

Sighing as loudly and dramatically as she could Terra grabbed the edge of her shirt and tried to raise it above her head. A sharp twinge of pain ran up her side as soon as her arms raised above her shoulders—

She startled as Raven’s powers activated, dark blobs of magic grasping the ends of the shirt and pulling it gently the rest of the way.

Cyborg made a little hiss of empathy and the already bruising skin of her side. She healed faster than most, but that also meant that she got colourful bruises quickly, a fact that hadn’t always been the most helpful in the past.

It was weird going to a check-up and not worrying that some injury that she had gotten training with Slade would be discovered. She realized with a strange hollowness that she’d never have to worry about that again.

“Does it hurt when you breathe?” Cyborg asked clinically, moving closer and ducking slightly to get a better view. Terra grits her teeth hard and stands as still as possible. At least she was wearing the sports bra without any holes.

“Only if I take deep breaths.”

“Can I press on your side lightly?”

“Yeah, go crazy.”

The cold press of Cyborg’s gloved fingers was shocking enough to make her flinch, before coming back in place. He pressed along the bruised, careful especially when she sucked in a pained gasp.

“Bruised ribs for sure, maybe a fracture. Your off regular missions until it heals, in case any of them have fractures.”

Terra crosses her arms and then winces. “What! C’mon man, you know how quickly I heal!”

Cyborg raises an eyebrow. “Don’t argue with your doctor. Can you send Star in?”

Terra groaned loudly in complaint, awkwardly ramming her shirt back on. “Your definitely not a doctor!”

“Bye Terra!” Cyborg called back cheerfully, facing away from her to talk with Raven. She glared banefully at his back before exiting the medical room.

“Cyborg wants you next for his twisted experiments” Terra called out to Star, jamming her thumb back behind her shoulder to indicate where he was. Starfire giggled from her spot on one of the couches, putting down her rubix cube and floating past Terra.

Finally free, Terra immediately left the waiting room to go find the nearest bathroom. Her hair may have been combed, but it was still wet and smelled like river-water. The idea of being warm and changing from her semi-wet clothes was deeply appealing, so she hustled down the hallway to her room to grab a new outfit to change into.

It was only there in her still darkened room, shimmying her cargo shorts off, that she had an abrupt realization.

Moving as if in slow motion, Terra reached her hand into her pocket. Her empty pocket, which was securely closed by a zipper and with a new hole in the bottom.

Ice crept up her spine as panic hit her full in the chest.

 

The contact lens case was gone.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Bettеr than alone, is to be in bad company