Author's Note: So, I haven't spent the time to proofread this. I've edited it, yes, but I haven't had Peter, my TextAloud, read it back to me. I didn't want to wait any longer. I'll keep working on writing this beast of a story. Hahah.

EDIT: I had posted this in the morning, but apparently it didn't alert anyone. o.o Strange stuff.

On with the story!

Chapter Thirty-Six

Rain

June 21st, 2009. Sunday, 11:00 am.

She had been too busy to notice. She'd been too focused on her own battle. The fight had been all encompassing. With her strength dying, Starfire had barely been able to keep up with her opponent. She had refused to give up, though. They could do it. They could win.

Until she heard that scream.

It was unlike anything she had ever heard. It was deep – deep from the gut. It was a scream of agony, of anguish, of heart wrenching pain – never had she heard such a sound from a man. She had heard Slade cry out that name only seconds before that terrible, terrible scream.

It was a sound that halted the battle.

She never imagined the possibility that one of them would fall. Nor had she imagined how they would fall. She had ignored it. But she had known it well. It was part of war. Her people understood this. She had seen war take good people before their time. Such was life. Such was the life of a Tamaranean.

But not Dick. War couldn't take him away from her. It should have taken her, not him – why him?!

The world became silent, as if mourning the loss. Nothing moved for that moment. Starfire slowly lowered to the ground, the fight with her doppelganger forgotten. No attack came. Starfire's feet touched the earth, the burnt, the tortured, the wasteland of the earth. She dropped to her knees and fell back on her heels.

"Dick…" whispered Starfire.

A boom shattered the air, debris bursting in all directions. A few feet away from Dick's body, within a newly created crater, Slade slowly pulled himself up. Blood smeared his face. Dirt clung to his suit. His grey blue eye stared at the scene, his body frozen. Trigon lowered to the ground, his eyes gleaming with immense pleasure.

"One by one, you will fall," said Trigon, his low voice vibrating every heart. "One by one, you will feel the pain of each lost. Behold, your leader, Teen Titans. The first to die a meaningless death."

Dark Robin threw back his head and laughed; blood dripped from his hand. The war stopped. The battle against the colossal army paused for Rose and Joey. Starfire sucked in her breath, her hands lifting to her face. She heard a chuckle at her side. Someone leaned against her shoulder.

"See? Say bye-bye to your love," whispered Dark Starfire, laughing softly in Starfire's ear. "You'll join him soon."

No…

There was a cry, just as Dark Beast Boy dragged Beast Boy out into the open. The doppelganger threw Beast Boy aside, who was clutching to something in his arms. Starfire's heart ached as she saw mini Raven. Tears streamed down the little girl's face.

As Beast Boy turned his head, his eyes widened. "Dick…" he whispered. There was a pause. He shook his head. "No, no, he's… he can't be – someone help him up!"

"He's dead," said Dark Beast Boy, his lips curling in a sneer. "It's all over now."

From the other side, something threw Cyborg towards the scene. He landed a few feet away from Beast Boy. Electricity buzzed at different areas of Cyborg's body. His left arm was limp at his side and the light of his red eye was dim. Cyborg stared at the unmoving form of Dick; his jaw tightened.

"You're gonna die knowing that you were a terrible friend to him in the end," whispered Dark Cyborg. He let out a low laugh. "But then again, you never were a very good friend. You always fought with each other. You abandoned him more than once. You can't even acknowledge him by name." The doppelganger let out a low snort. "But it's too late now."

Despair entered Cyborg's countenance. He lowered his head and curled his hands into fists, his body hunching over.

It was so quiet. The stillness was deafening. Nothing moved. No demon attacked them. Everything stopped for this moment. A chill bled through the still air. The fall of the leader meant the end of it all.

And the enemy knew this well.

"What will you do now, Slade?" asked Trigon, his voice rising above the awful silence. His tone filled with mocking. "This could've been prevented, if only you had joined me. But you all insisted on fighting me. Your foolishness has brought your end."

Terrible, dark laughter rose with the smoke of flames.

What a poisonous creature, thought Starfire.

Slade didn't move. He continued to stare down at Dick. Pain threatened to drag Starfire down into the under earth of her soul. The true nature of this hadn't sunk into her mind, however. Accepting this would take time, that much Starfire knew. She had experienced death before. She knew its process for her personally. Time to take advantage of the shock and the denial.

She stood up, drawing herself upward against the pain in her chest. Her body ached from the battle.

"And what would you have offer us for our loyalty?" asked Starfire, her voice soft. Trigon met her gaze. Her friends looked up at her, their eyes glimmering with that never ending despair. She didn't falter. "You say if we had bowed our knees to you that this death would not have happened."

Starfire shook her head, her lips thinning.

"But you lie. Would you have offered freedom? We had that. Our lives? We had that, too. And where would we live?" She gestured towards the landscape? "Here? There is nothing here now. This world used to be a glorious place, filled with so many wondrous things – ones I had only just begun to learn about – but now it has been destroyed. By you – you have nothing to offer us, nothing that would entice us to come to you. You only take; you have nothing of your own to give."

The strength in her voice grew with each word. A growl rippled through Trigon's throat. No fear entered Starfire's heart.

"What would that life be like?" asked Starfire, her voice ringing above the still silence of death. "In a world like this – it would be a life of death. We would be alive, yet not alive – half living, half dying. It would be agony. Better that we die here and now trying to save our world than live the death of life."

Starfire pressed her hand against her heart. She took a deep breath, letting her feelings flow over her soul.

"I will not stop fighting. For Earth. For Tamaran. For every planet you destroyed. And for Dick. I will not stop until you are gone. You are not welcome here."

A punch to the stomach sent Starfire to the ground. She gasped, rolling onto her side. Tears pressed at her, but she held them back. She looked up at her dark doppelganger.

"How dare you speak to the mighty Trigon like that!"

It seemed that, unknowingly, Dark Starfire detracted Trigon's fury away from Starfire. In the moment, where the attention had turned to her, Joey took that opportunity to come to Rose's side. He touched her arm and putting a finger to his lips. She looked at him, tears slipping down her cheeks. She swallowed, before wiping them away.

"Listen to me," whispered Joey, only for her ears. "Can you fight Trigon and the army? Can you keep them busy?"

She frowned, looking confused.

"Can you do it?" whispered Joey, more urgently this time. "I need you to give them all you've got. Draw them away from this. You have to or else we can't save Dick. Give Trigon the fight of your life."

"Save Dick? He can be saved?" breathed Rose. Joey nodded. The light in her eyes brightened. "I got this. It's okay."

"Be loud. Be bold."

"It's what I do best," said Rose with a smirk. She pushed forward, inhaling deeply, before she bellowed, "All right! Dad might have gotten his butt kicked by you, but now you've got a real challenger! It's my turn to take a shot at ya!"

The silence disappeared. Rose launched forward, engaging Trigon in battle. Her taunts echoed through the air, drawing the fire of the two armies. The earth shook from the explosions. Trigon roared in fury, turning his full attention onto her. The demon armies and their two generals, at the command of Trigon, went after her.

"Titans," said Joey, lifting his voice with his power. He focused his voice for the ears of his allies only, hoping that the enemy couldn't hear him. "I know you're at your end. I know you can't keep going. But I need you all to try once more. Just a little longer. Do it for your friend, our brother, and your son. This isn't over."

Green light exploded. There was a scream of pain. Starfire lifted into the air, tears streaming down her face, but the light of determination glowed in her eyes. She stared down at her doppelganger.

"You will not take my joy," whispered Starfire. "I will still fly. I will not let my power fade. My friends, are you with me?"

Beast Boy set Raven aside. He brushed her forehead, moving the hair out of her face. He patted her cheek, before he stood up. He put a hand onto Cyborg's shoulder and held out a hand. Cyborg grabbed it and got to his feet with Beast Boy's help.

"Go."

The Titans burst into action, new fire in their eyes.

"Dad," whispered Joey, kneeling beside Slade. He put a hand onto the man's shoulder. Come on, Dad, you have to hear what I have to say.

Slade barely noticed.

The devastation on his heart was unlike anything Slade had ever experienced. Of course he had felt the same with Grant, Joey, and Rose during that terrible week where he had lost his family. The guilt that had taken over most of his feelings, however – drowning much of the despair.

This was different.

Blood stained the suit. There was a gaping hole where the boy's heart was supposed to be. Slade had seen Grant in pieces. He would never forget. He would never forget this either. Those brilliant blue eyes, that had always glimmered with a light unlike any other, were dull as they gazed towards the unknown.

Slade hunched over, his throat swelling. He grabbed the earth, crumbling dirt in between his fingers. His forehead pressed against the ground.

No, no, no, no – this wasn't supposed to happen.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go!

He'd been arrogant. He had thought the only thing that kept him from putting a bullet inside Trigon's brain was the lack of a mortal body. He had wanted to make Trigon bleed, watch him suffer as he slowly succumbed to death. He wanted to put an end to the creature that had caused his son so much pain.

It had been so simple. One more—just one more. One more kill shouldn't have been a problem. He'd done it countless times before. Kill Trigon; stop the end of the world; go home; down a whole bottle of whiskey in five seconds and hope to get drunk for at least one of those seconds.

But to experience a death so close to his heart… No, it hadn't crossed his mind.

Of course, he was aware of the boy's mortality. It was a light worry. He never dwelled on it, except in those moments when it seemed that Dick tried to push the barriers of such mortality. But the true nature of that fragile life – no, Slade hadn't understood what it would mean to lose him. It was worse than he could've imagined. If there was ever a time where Slade thought that it wasn't fair, it was at this very moment.

The fact remained true: there was a gaping hole where Dick's heart used to be.

That terrible hole…

And there was only one explanation for it.

Dick was dead.

His son was dead.

He was supposed to see him grow up. He was supposed to hold Dick's son, a grandson, and see those crystal blue eyes in the life of another. They were supposed to share so many more moments together – they all were. His family, in part, had been restored. Their reunion had been tainted by Trigon. It was too soon. Oh, how soon. Why couldn't he have more time? They hadn't even had a year together. They'd barely had ten months together. Only four of those months had been within official father and son capacity. That was such a small amount of time. Too short. Oh, how short.

Such wasted time. He had wasted their time together. It had taken him too long, hadn't it? He'd been so stubborn. If only he had listened to Wintergreen sooner, maybe they would've had more time to be father and son. Maybe the memories wouldn't haunt him. Maybe his cruelty wouldn't suffocate him.

Blast it.

Why did this have to happen? Slade had actually been trying. He'd been trying to be a better father. It had become important to him. Why did his son have to be taken from him yet again? Did he really have to endure this death of a child—his child—yet again? It was unjust. Were all the combined Fates laughing at him now? Was he that hated by whatever force designed things in life?

Why did he have to lose another son?

Was he supposed to live in this ravaged earth for an eternity with this pain? Would Joey and Rose endure the years as well? Or would Trigon destroy them all, just as he boasted he would? Would Slade finally have that chance to die? Were… they over there – wherever there was – and would they all be reunited, like a family?

Did an afterlife truly exist?

Why were such lives separate, then? Blast it all!

He hadn't hugged his son enough. He hadn't said 'I love you' enough. He hadn't talked with him enough. He hadn't listened enough. It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough.

It would never be enough, would it?

He would never be ready.

The child who had changed his life was now gone – and there in his place was a void of pain unlike any other.

Slade wasn't going to survive.

"Dad, listen to me," whispered a voice. It sounded like Joey. But Slade couldn't stop looking at the still form; his heart ached at the sight. The hand on his shoulder squeezed, shaking him slightly. That voice grew frustrated. "Dad, listen to me."

At that, Slade looked up at him. Joey looked war torn. Part of Slade's heart broke; his gentle son had finally faced battle, something he had never liked before. He was nothing like Grant—and at that thought, Slade's heart groaned in agony.

"Are you going to sit here and do nothing?" asked Joey.

Slade frowned. "What…" he asked, breathless. "What're you talking about?"

"Are you going to sit here and do nothing?"

"I'm not a miracle worker," hissed Slade, his voice soft. "What more can I do?"

"Heal him."

Slade sucked in his breath.

"They told you, didn't they?" asked Joey, leaning closer. "You have a gift for healing. They gave it to you. So, use it."

"I don't have—"

"Dad!" shouted Joey, his voice snapping loud. Slade's eye widened in shock. Joey glared at him, fire burning in his gaze. "Are you really not going to try? You can do it – and yet you'd let him go?"

"He's dead," whispered Slade with a broken gasp. "Not even I can bring back the dead."

"Try," said Joey, his voice powerful. "Try it. You have nothing to lose – except your pride. Dad, do you remember? I'll never forget that day when I lost my voice. You stood there and let them take it. I watched you stand there; I watched you do nothing. It wasn't until afterward that you broke into action. Don't do that with Dick."

Those words stole his breath.

"No, you misunderstand. I don't blame you," said Joey, his tone dropping. His words become quick, rushing forth with urgency. "I never have. But you have a chance to change this. Don't wait any more. Do something. Anything! You can heal the wound. There has to be a chance that he can still wake up. You have to try. You have to believe. If you don't, then there's nothing left. Don't give up, Dad. Please… You're not the only one who loves him. You've got nothing to lose except your son."

Slade pulled back, shaking his head. He looked at Joey. He heard his words, but they didn't sink into his mind. How could they? Even if he could heal… It wouldn't bring him back. He couldn't inject Dick with the serum. He didn't just carry it on his person like bullets – although, if they all got out of this alive, he was going to start doing so. He just couldn't believe he had some 'great' healing power, not after all those years of mercenary work. His hands were the ones that pulls triggers. They weren't used to heal people.

"Dad," whispered Joey. There was something powerful about his voice. "You have healing for a reason. Use it. If you don't try, then Dick won't live. He won't have a life, a family – and this fight would've been for nothing."

Bright within Slade's mind rose the image of Dick smiling brightly. The ghost of his voice echoed, the laughter like a healing melody.

Slade drew closer to Dick. Every part of his body trembled, something he hadn't experienced since the change. For the first time, in such a long, long time, he felt human once again – with all the weaknesses that came with that mortality.

Slade looked down into the gaping hole in Dick's chest. He swallowed back the bile, hating the sight of the blood. Never before had he felt ill at its color and stench. Blood should never mark his children.

He didn't understand all this. He had moved on autopilot, unable to process the meaning between the two forces that were very much present on this battlefield. But Joey was right. Slade didn't have to understand it right now. He only had to ignore all the stubborn voices inside his head. The single truth stood like a banner above them all: he wanted his son back.

And, after all, what was the harm in trying?

Slade placed his hand over the wound. The trembling in his hand worsened. As he pressed over the hole, his skin slipped over the slick surface. Slade closed his eye.

The whole thing made him feel foolish. This was ridiculous. This was false hope. Him trying to heal?

Nothing happened. He felt nothing.

"I can't do this," said Slade, pulling his hand away. A hand thumped him on the back.

"You're not some thirteen year old who can't bother to do his homework," snapped Joey, the frustration exploding out in his tone. "This isn't something you can walk away when it gets tough."

Slade glared at him.

"Don't look at me like that. What, don't you want Dick to live?"

"Of course—"

"Then, DO something about it!"

Slade didn't answer, looking back down.

"You have to want it," whispered Joey. "So… what do you want?"

Slade looked down at Dick's eyes, the shine long gone. He hunched over the boy's chest, placing a hand over the hole.

"I want him to live," cried Slade, the desire springing from deep within his heart. The palm of his hand tingled. "I want him to be alive! I want him to be happy!"

Power surged.

Slade sucked in his breath, jerking back. He looked down at his trembling hands, which were marred with dirt and blood. But he had felt something. It wasn't his imagination. He had truly felt something. His breathing quickened. He swallowed.

"Come back to me, son," whispered Slade, a slight crazed fervor in his tone. He placed both hands over the hole. He continued to whisper, unsure what to say, but unable to stop now. "You come back to me, you hear, you— you disobedient little brat. You're—You're in too much trouble to die now. I don't know how or what, but I'll figure it out later." There was a choking laugh from Slade. He gasped for breath, his emotions pinning down his heart. "You're still young, far too young to die. You still have a long life ahead of you. You've got college, hero work, marriage, kids—whatever you want, you still have to do. So, don't you dare die on me now!"

The sensation burned the palms of his hands.

All he wanted was his son alive again. A son should never die before the father. Dick had no business dying right now. There was too much life inside of him. There were too many things he still needed to experience. There were too many people he needed to protect. There was so much ahead, so many memories to be made, so many hearts to touch – his time could not be now.

"You're not allowed to die, Dick," whispered Slade, his eye burning bitterly – it had to be the flaming landscape. "I've already lost one son, I will not lose another!"

Power flared from Slade's fingertips as the words fell from his soul. White light encased his hands as they hovered over Dick's chest. It flowed into the hole inside Dick's chest, completely filling it with that blinding white light. The light trailed upward through his neck and glowed inside his mouth and eyes.

Why him?

Why had they chosen him?

As the light faded from Dick's chest, a rising and falling began there once again. What had once been a empty, bloody hole, now filled with unmarked flesh. Hope began to fill Slade's chest. A moment later, there was a drawing breath.

The boy's eyes slowly began to move beneath his eyelids. Then, ever so painfully slowly, as Slade held his breath, the boy began to open his eyes. Slade exhaled at the sight of those stunning crystal blue eyes. A wave of powerful emotion of the like he had never felt before washed over him. It was too much for him. Slade's breathing became heavy as he tried to control them.

"D–Dad?" murmured Dick weakly, his eyes closing once before they opened again.

His son was alive.

He didn't lose him.

Dick was pulled into a powerful hug. His mind was groggy. Images flashed in his mind, yet he couldn't focus on the events. Where was he? What had happened? Slade was holding him against his strong chest, his arms wrapped around Dick's shoulders. He could feel an erratic shuddering going through the man's body. A wince of pain wracked through his body briefly, causing Dick to groan. An instant later, Slade pulled back and his worried expression appeared into Dick's sight.

Dick sucked in his breath, his eyes widening.

"Are you all right? Where does it hurt?"

Those strong arms were still wrapped protectively around his shoulders, but Dick could only stare up into the man's face, the shock of what he was seeing flowing over his entire body. Something wet dropped onto his cheek. It was hot.

But there was no rain.

Oh, what had Rose said, when she fought against him four months ago? She had mocked him in her delirium, when her soul hadn't been anchored to the earth. But what she had said was truth.

"When you die, it'll be like you're ripping out that man's heart with your bare hands; crushing it, smashing it into nothingness… He'll mourn your death far greater than Grant's death. Why? Because he grew to love you… He'll be devastated."

A hand touched Slade's cheek. A thumb laced beneath the man's visible eye.

"I've never seen you cry before, Dad."

That grey blue eye widened, the tears still pooled beneath there. The man's jaw clenched, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Dick smiled at him, moving his hand to rest on the man's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Dad," continued Dick, his weakened voice gathering strength. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. You'll have plenty of time to straighten out my mischief making."

Slade's face scrunched up, as a pained chuckle broke through his lips. Another trail of tears slipped through. The man jerked Dick back into his chest. Hot droplets fell onto his neck. Shuddering wracked the man's body as Dick slipped his arms around his waist and held as tightly as his tired limbs could do so.

"Impudent little imp," came the whisper into Dick's ear. The sound of Slade's voice was hoarse and choked with emotion. He smiled and patted the man on the back.

"The best of his kind."

Next Time: Chapter Thirty-Seven: Full Truth – With their leader alive and well, the war takes a new turn. The Titans have a chance at overcoming their own dark selves. However, will it be enough in the end?

Author's Notes: I feel like this series wouldn't be complete without the, "He's dead. Boo hoo. PSYCH!" thing I seem to do. xD

Thanks for reading! Bless you all for your support and your patience! Until next time! ^.^