She was alive and stable, but her body had taken quite a terrible beating from Brother Blood. Her ribs had been broken and she was suffering from bleeding both internal and external. Thankfully, none of her vital organs had been pierced, her armor had protected her from the very worst of the fall, and she'd been reached quickly before the damage could grow worse. Raven's magic had stopped her bleeding, and thanks to the assistance of Herald, they'd been able to get her to a hospital in record time. If she hadn't been wearing that armor, she'd have been far, far worse off.

Unfortunately, that was not all.

Her skull was fractured, and they were still trying to determine just how much damage that had done to the rest of her. It was anyone's guess when she would wake up at this point. And Raven's healing could do nothing further for her. Even her mystical powers had limits to them.

Cyborg had stayed by her side all the way from East Tower, hassling the doctors with his insistent pleas that they do something, anything, to save her. Eventually, they'd had to order him out into the lobby while they worked to restore some of the damage. Right now, Starfire and Raven were permitted to keep watch over Sarasim, while Bumblebee, Robin, and Beastboy tried to keep Cyborg under control. Surgery had gone well, they'd assured them, but they still need to give some time to make sure.

The rest of the East team was locking up Blood (or what was left of him) in a security center with some added features to disrupt his telepathy. He wasn't going to be getting out again anytime soon.

It wasn't easy on any of them.

"Cyborg... what happened... it wasn't your fault," said Robin slowly, though the words he spoke were hollow. Even to himself they did not sound terribly convincing, and he knew full well why.

"Sarasim's going to be fine, Sparky," added Bumblebee, quickly covering her fellow group leader. "They've got state-of-the-art equipment here... best medicine money can buy. And you know we'll sell Titan's Tower if that's what it takes."

"... state-of-the-art..." murmured Cyborg.

By unspoken consent, the other patients and staff had been giving them a wide berth. And with fairly good reason, because Cyborg had been pacing back and forth. He'd been so agitated a moment ago, hassling doctors, worrying, but all his energy seemed to have been sucked out of him, and now all he could do was stare out the nearby window as he paced. Stare out at the stars and the lights of the city below. And remember how joyful Sarasim had been to see real city lights. To get her new suit of armor...

"... this is all my fault" he realized bitterly.

"That's not true!" said Beastboy emphatically. "Bonehead Blood's the one who hurt her, not you!"

"I should've protected her... I should've been able to protect her..." he protested.

"She knew the risks," said Robin, knowing full well he bore some blame in this as well. Letting Sarasim fight Brother Blood without back-up. Then again, it was as he'd told himself earlier... could he have really stopped her? Could any of them have?

"She... she shouldn't have come..." murmured Cyborg, lightly banging his fist against the wall. "She'd've been better off in her own time."

To that, none of them knew quite what to say. Fortunately, they didn't need to know. As it turned out, at that moment the door at the far end of the room opened, revealing Raven, Starfire, and a blonde nurse who quickly made their way over towards the gathered young heroes. Their expressions did not seem overly downcast, and Cyborg seized onto this, hope blossoming within him.

"How's Sarasim? Is she okay?" he asked, seizing the nurse by her shoulders.

"The Surgery went well," she said slowly, reading off the clipboard before her. "We patched up her head, she suffered absolutely no brain damage... we're going to have to keep her here at least a few days to see what kind of..."

"Can I see her?"

The nurse blinked in surprise. "Uhm, I... Mr. Stone, I don't..."

"Please..." he whispered.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Jump City Hospital. Room 402.

The room was near silent, punctuated only by the slow but steady beep-beep-beep of the vitals monitor. Almost no furniture save for the bed the patient rested on and a single chair beside it. And an IV bag was tapped into their arm, feeding them a steady glucose supplement.

Patient: Sarasim. No family name.

Cyborg peered down at her, trembling, unable to bear seeing her like this. She'd always been on the smallish size, at least compared to him, but now, buried under a pale green hospital sheet and all those hoses and wires, she looked even smaller, even more fragile. Her head was bandaged, there would probably be scarring, and it would take time for her lovely black hair to re-grow to its original length.

For a moment, his vision blurred, and he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

... Sarasim peered up at him from her one remaining blue eye, the other a cold red. Half of her face was metal now, a silvery-white steel that molded against her head and neck and down into the sleeveless green hospital garment. Half of her arms, from shoulder to elbow, were still human enough, but they ended in mechanical arms, which she held before her, staring down at her new technological limbs...

"Why...? Why...?! Why couldn't you have just let me diiiiieeee?!" she screamed at him.

Cyborg stumbled backwards, blinking hard to clear his vision. To his relief, when it passed... he saw she was the same as before. She was completely organic... completely human... still. But the image in his mind had been so real... and so very terrifying.

After he'd become a cybernetic being, he'd hated the one who'd done it to him. More than anything else, he'd wanted to die human rather than become some kind of science freak. He couldn't bear the thought of Sarasim thinking of him the same way. He wouldn't wish that sort of life onto anyone... not even, he realized with some bitter irony... his worst enemy.

Sarasim's armor lay in a corner of the room, having been brought over by some of the nurses after it had been stripped off of her for the surgery. It was battered and broken, and were Cyborg not concerned about Sarasim, he would've likely been thinking about how long it would take him to repair the suit. Right now, he couldn't have given two damns if civilization collapsed and mankind re-entered the Stone Age, so long as she was alright when the night ended and morning came around.

Very, very gently, he took her small hand in his larger one, giving a soft squeeze, though it was more for his benefit than hers.

"I'm sorry, Sarasim..." he said. "For everything. None of this would've happened if... if..." his voice trailed off, the words catching in his throat. So much he wanted to say, but couldn't. But he be damned if he didn't say this much.

"I love you, Sarasim. I love you so much it hurts to think about losing you again. I can't lose you... please... don't leave me... please..." he broke down then, his words dissolving as tears again flowed freely, and he sank onto his knees, weak and helpless to save the woman he loved.

He almost didn't believe his sensors when he felt her gentle squeeze back. His head snapped up in an instant.

Her pretty crystal-blue eyes opened then, slowly, gently. "Never," she murmured softly.

"... Sarasim..." he murmured, squeezing her hand gently, very careful not to accidentally crush it. It was hard though. Especially when all he wanted to do right now was just sweep her up into his arms and crush her body against his. But she'd had enough damage done to her today. So he held himself back.

"What happened?" she asked softly, her eyes still half-closed. "I feel... strange..."

"Sedatives," he surmised. "The doctors... er... the healers, they had to use them on you to numb the pain. Probably making you sleepy..."

"Oh, I see..." she murmured quietly. That explained why her eyelids were feeling so very heavy...

"Maybe... maybe you should get some rest," offered Cyborg gently.

Her hand tightened softly around his. "You'll stay with me?"

The more logical side of his mind warned Cyborg such a venture would be dangerous, his power cells were nearly depleted already from his battle with Brother Blood. But his human side... his heart... quickly outvoted them, and he pulled up a nearby chair, seating himself down beside Sarasim, reaching out a hand to gently stroke her forehead.

"Try and stop me," he promised.

Several weeks passed.

Sarasim's recovery was slow, but a complete one, and she emerged from the hospital on the sixth day under her own power, with no remaining injuries. Her black hair was still unpleasantly short, but Starfire had loaned her a wide-brim hat to help conceal that fact. And of course, her friends didn't care what she looked like. They judged on what was inside, not outside.

Still, she had just enough personal vanity to make her wear the hat. At least for a few days.

The warrior woman had elected to begin her training again slowly, partly to allow her body to fully heal, and partly to allow Cyborg a chance to fix her armor. As such, she spent a great deal more time with her friends. She was a warrior at the core, but that did not mean she could not appreciate times of peace. So she'd enjoyed a late-night movie with Beastboy, some practice meditation with Raven, and a trip to the Mall for some ice-cream with Starfire.

Tonight, she was climbing the stairs of Titan's Tower to the roof. Her armor lay below in her room, and instead of her customary tunic she was wearing a yellow silken blouse and a long skirt that the other girls had helped her buy at the Mall.

The door slid open, and Sarasim beheld a breathtaking sight. The setting of the sun, which tinted the perfect blue sky a brilliant orange and gold. And there, visible mostly as a shadowy silhouette (highlighted by silver and blue) was Cyborg. Waiting for her. As one, they sat down on the edge of the tower, their legs dangling over the sides. Though it was a good deal higher than the village wall from her own time, Sarasim had no fear. Her guardian would never allow her to come to any harm. She had complete faith in him.

As he had in her.

"The world can change so much with the passage of time… with weapons and vehicles and cities that are so… high tech," she said, stumbling over the unfamiliar words. "But some things never change," she said, turning to watch the sun set.

"... yeah... and Blood'll never be able to understand that."

She giggled softly at that. "He is… I believe the saying goes… a few Okaarans short of a Finbar?"

Cyborg laughed at that… not because it was a funny joke (though he understood what she meant) but he realized Sarasim had been spending entirely too much time with Starfire.

And that wasn't a bad thing, either.

"Few cans short of a six-pack might be easier to understand if you tell anyone else that joke," remarked Cyborg idly. "Anyone who isn't from Tamaran, at least."

She nodded, sighing contently as she leaned against his arm, resting her head against it. Most people who touched Cyborg's flesh (and you could usually count that number one on hand) usually remarked on how cold it was… a result of having so very little actual blood in his body. But Sarasim never complained… never cared. She could feel the warmth coming all the way from his heart and soul.

Gently, Cyborg cupped her chin, tilting her head up, even as she leaned forward, their lips reaching for one another, their eyes drifting closed...

... and then Cyborg's shot open as his internal sensors registered danger, his head whipping around just in time to spot a bright ball of white lightning whirling down towards them.

"Lookout!" he cried, scooping up Sarasim in his arms and launching himself up into the air with the powerful hydraulics in his legs. They cleared the blast, which took out a good portion of the roof where they were just sitting, and landed on the far end of the rooftop, safe and sound.

For the moment.

Their attacker was easy to pinpoint, high up in the sky over Titan's Island. He was arrayed in a bright monochrome uniform that glowed like the sun, which made him an easy target to spot in the rapidly darkening sky. He floated on a hoverdisk, obviously unable to fly with his own power. Cyborg rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath. Honestly, did this guy never learn? What was his doctorate in, getting his butt handed to him?

"Behold, Titans! The brilliance of Doctor Light!" hollered the supervillain, powering up another blast of superheated solar rays. Fortunately, this one was intercepted as a wall of black energy manifested in the space above their heads, shielding Cyborg and Sarasim.

The other Titans had entered the fray, taking up defensive stances underneath Raven's shield. Sarasim stepped forward as well, but Cyborg caught her arm before she went too far.

"Wait, your armor...!" he started to say.

She shrugged off his arm gently. "I thought I told you... a true warrior doesn't need it!"

"True warrior could use a weapon, at least!" remarked Robin, tossing her his birdarang sword, which Sarasim caught lightly, twirling it in her grasp as she took up a defensive stance. Beside her, Cyborg powered up his sonic cannon. Robin gave their battle cry, and the Titans charged forward to meet their enemy.

And Sarasim charged with them, beside her beloved Cyborg, an equal.

United by a timeless love.

Author's Notes:
Original ideas for this chapter included a partially or fully Cyborg-esque Sarasim (further prices from the Witch and her magic from way back in the beginning of the story), but I ultimately decided it did no justice to her character or the theme of the story, and opted for just the nightmare sequence instead.