Chapter Text
Tuesday 16th of July 1985; Staten Island, New York City, New York, U.S.A.
“We need light.”
Victor wasn’t wrong. The sewers beneath Staten Island were pitch black.
Even with the enhanced vision that he had inherited from his dam, Joey couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him. The daylight from outside had vanished as they went further into the old, steel-lined tunnels. Murky wastewater splashed against his waterproof boots. Ripples and waves were barely more than shadows stirred up under their footsteps. Theirs were the only sounds in the otherwise silent sewers. The putrid stench in the stagnant air burned in Joey’s nose.
The words broke the tense silence that had surrounded them since they entered.
“No problem. I’ll shed a little light on things.” As Donna’s magic light surrounded them, everyone started to talk all at once.
Joey stayed silent. Even if he could speak through his scarred vocal cords, he didn’t have anything to add. He was at the back of the group, with Raven to his right and Roy off to his left. In the middle walked Koriand’r. Ahead of her, Donna and Victor led them all down the stinking sewage tunnels. Roy already had an arrow notched with his bow half-drawn.
Unease churned in Joey’s gut. The stench of rot and decay choked his senses, thick and suffocating in his throat. July’s summer heat radiating down underground made it even worse. Something had killed four innocent people on the streets above. The Titans had caught a glimpse of it and chased them into the sewers, then lost them in the stinking dark. There might be more hiding down here.
“I sense something ahead of us, but these tunnels diffuse its direction.” Raven’s clear voice echoed in the brick tunnels. She sounded uncertain. Worried. Sewer water dirtied her pure white cloak with every cautious step.
Koriand’r had enviable confidence as she moved to walk by Raven’s side. “No matter, Raven. We’ll find it, and it won’t escape us again.”
“We know it’s definitely not human, but it’s fine killing us. So, what the hell is it then?” Victor repeated grumpily. No one had any answers. He grunted when Raven reminded him that the creature was in pain. “Maybe, but it kills. Or they kill. We still don’t know which. Some kind of wild animal, but it doesn’t act like an animal. It just attacks, kills, and vanishes again.”
Roy snorted. “Kills? Hell, Vic, it shreds the body—there’s nothing left for identification!”
“Yeah, Speedy, I know.” Victor was walking ahead of him so Joey couldn’t see his face, but he could imagine his rolling eyes. “I remember the coroner’s morgue too. I get sick just thinking about it.”
Joey would rather not think about it at all. The medical examiner had shown them the deceased not long after the Titans first got the case earlier that morning. He had almost vomited. He wasn’t like either of his parents. Blood and violence hurt him. The sight of human suffering hurt him. The Titans had to stop this creature—or creatures—before they hurt anyone else.
“Starfire’s right about one thing. It doesn’t matter what they are. We aren’t going to let them continue to kill.” Donna’s voice was firm. The magic light held in her palm glinted off her sparkling armor.
Though that begged the question, what were they going to do with the creature when they caught it? Intelligent or not, sentient or not, it wasn’t like they could take it to the courthouse. The creature was too dangerous for a zoo. Would they be forced to kill it for the public’s safety? Joey didn’t like the thought. If it was the only way to protect people, if there was no other way, then he could stomach it, but only then.
He thought of his parents. His sire Adeline and his dam Slade. They were both killers, though Adeline was far more restrained with that kind of violence. Neither would hesitate to kill.
Grant would—… Joey didn’t finish the thought.
His big brother was not good. His big brother was dead.
Joey could still imagine Slade’s disdain. The frustrated sigh and frown and rolled eyes. He could never forget that expression or the harsh words that followed. Slade wanted Joey to be like Grant. He wasn’t, he could never be, and that was unacceptable. His dam would scoff at his soft hesitation now.
“Troia,” —Raven stopped them— “they are here… Close.”
Her warning came too late:
Two giant rodent creatures leapt at them from the murky wastewater.
They tackled Donna and Victor first. Their shouts echoed on the tunnel walls.
Joey sprinted to Donna’s side, reaching out to help his friend in any way that he could. He wasn’t a natural fighter. He had never been, despite his parents’ best (worst) efforts. They had still taught him everything that he knew. The creature struck too fast and sent him to his knees.
Numbness came first.
Sharp, cold pain followed.
His first thought was, Mom is going to be upset. His second thought was, Dad is going to be even worse. (It was a stupid train of thought, of course. Joey hadn’t seen Slade in over a year.) He then thought of his own cowardice. There was nothing worse than weakness. His pack had made that clear to him for his entire life. Be a real alpha. Be a real man. Sissy boy. Runt. Coward.
Blood coated his palm as he clutched the wound on his face, and tears burned in his eyes. Shame was a heavy weight in his gut. Which was pathetic, because everyone was still fighting, and the creatures were hurting his friends! He could see Adeline’s impatience—try again, Joey. He could hear Slade’s disappointment—alphas don’t cry, pup. His parents wouldn’t be scared. His older brother would have been tougher. The shame, and the fear, and the pain paralyzed him. Joey had just turned fifteen in May. He was fighting giant rodent creatures in a sewage tunnel. He couldn’t do anything to help his friends.
A flashbang of sudden golden light blinded him.
He heard Koriand’r shout, then the creatures were gone. The weak relief that filled Joey was just another thing to shame.