Welcome! Okay, so you thought this was RM and RJ Co, eh? Sort of. Sarah's been added in! Sarah as in Egglette. You may know me from 'Modern Day Romeo and Juliet', or 'Flavor of the Week'. It's Sarah and Jess, for this story!
Summary: To all whom this may concern, please listen carefully. The infection is spreading; I'm dying. My vision is blurred and my head dizzy. I fear I'm going color blind...my skin's color is mutating. Another injection, another spasm. Black. (summary written by Sarah or egglette)
Pairings: You'll see. I think you can guess, though. So without further adieu, I give you A Lack of Color!
Note: Sarah picked the title when she was listening to Death Cab. ;D
My name is Mark Dayton. And I'm dying.
Don't be too alarmed—everyone dies at some point in their life. Me, my life is just being cut short.
I was born on September 28th, 1987 in Gotham City, New York. I went to high school and graduated as runner up for valedictorian, and dated a girl named Lisa throughout my last two years of high school. We recently broke up because my college was in California, and hers was in Steel City.
In elementary school I choked on a red crayon, and in Junior High I had my first girlfriend. I lost my virginity at seventeen after getting drunk at a high school party. I learned to ride my bike early; I never had training wheels. I've never been out of the country, and played soccer all through high school.
At least, that's what I think. Stressing my brain, I don't actually remember trying to see what a crayon tasted like, I don't remember Lisa, I don't remember running up in valedictorian, I don't even remember high school, all I remember is my sophomore year of college on.
The memories have been more common now, most recently after the bite. The first wave of recollections had been the night I stumbled back into the African village, fevered and dizzy. Since then, things are beginning to unfold, and look more clearly now.
They'll be back soon for my next dosage, so we don't have much time. The medicine makes me forget, but it's only temporary as it wears off every two days. I need to share this with you before they come back, and before I forget again…
---
"The subject 356 is ready for release, Dr. Row."
"Has the chip been installed?"
"Yes, sir," the assistant replied.
"Then bring him in," the doctor flipped through a clipboard silently.
"One more thing, sir…His eyes…We tried everything we could."
Dr. Row frowned. "Still green, are they?" The assistant nodded. "No matter, she'll need to recognize something in order for it to work." The doctor silenced, returning to examining notes.
Without looking up, the doctor pointed to an empty chair. "Have a seat, young man."
The blond-haired man, perhaps 19 or 20, wiggled his nose a bit, taking in the stench of Medical Room.
"Do you know why you're here?"
"Can't say I do," he laughed, leaning back in the chair.
"Do you know your name?"
"'Course," he said, "I'm Mark. Mark Dayton."
"Well, Mark, you're free to go."
"Really, just like that?" The doctor nodded, "No examination? You pull me off the streets, ask me a few questions, and then let me go? What is this?"
The doctor chuckled softly. "Mr. Dayton, we were conducting a poll in which we wanted your opinion. Simple as that! Like I said, you're free to go. And," he glanced at his watch, "don't you have a class in a few minutes?"
The man's green eyes widened with realization. "Shit!"
---
"What do you mean, they don't have the body?" Robin exclaimed, pounding a fist on the table.
"I'm sorry man," the half-teen, half-machine sighed, "but the police found no records of a body—just a pile of blood that matched to BB's and a piece of fabric from his uniform."
A silence draped over the four remaining members. "And Control Freak?"
"He willingly turned himself in. I don't think he wanted to ever kill anyone, but nevertheless, his jail sentence will be life," the dark-haired empath added calmly, voice completely devoid of any emotion.
"How could I have let it happen?"
"It wasn't your fault, Robin," Cyborg said.
"If anyone's, it was mine," Raven interjected. "I was closest to him; I should've seen the building coming down."
"…I believe it is no one's fault, Raven," Starfire held her chin up, refusing to cry. She had wasted enough time spilling tears already. It had only been out of fear for Robin going, as Cyborg would say, a-wall, that she had returned from her room.
Raven stared at the clock. "It's time."
---
"Mr. Dayton? I'm aware that window is all very tantalizing, but if you could draw your attention from the Plexiglas and Windex long enough to answer the question, I would appreciate it."
Mark didn't stir; his eyes were still watching the below streets. A crowd, probably more than half of the city, stood on the edge of the streets as a casket was carried down the pavement. "Corvus corax," he sighed softly.
The professor blinked in surprise; he had thought the boy had hardly been paying attention. "Yes, well…moving on…"
Finally peeling away from the window, he turned to the guy next to him. "What's going on out there?"
The student glanced outside the window and raised an eyebrow at Mark. "What do you mean? Haven't you heard? They're commemorating Beast Boy."
Beast Boy, Beast Boy…why did that sound so familiar? "Who?"
The boy chuckled. "You really are new, aren't you? He died…about two days ago, I think. A building, you know the one on 25th," Mark nodded even though he wasn't sure what the guy was talking about, "fell on him; crushed him. Funny thing is, no body was ever found."
"What did the dude do to get such a big shebang in his memory?"
"He was a Teen Titan," the boy explained.
Mark nodded; he had heard of the five superheroes that lived in a giant 'T' by the bay. "I'm Lucas, by the way," Lucas held out a hand.
"Mark," he smiled. "If he was such a big deal, why is no one in this class going to his funeral?"
Lucas laughed as loudly as he dared. "We will, trust me. The guy was a shape shifter—shifted into animals. Perfect for kids majoring in animals; anyone in this class loved him, hands down. But none of us dare to skip Tate's lessons. He's the hardest teacher we got."
Mark had no reply, just a nod of his head.
"So where you from that you don't know this?"
"I'm from Gotham. I transferred here 'cause I wasn't getting enough out of my classes."
Lucas grinned. "Well, you're talking to a Jump City native. Lived here my whole life. You want a tour, look no farther!"
"Mr. Dayton, Mr. Row, if you're so eager to chat, do it somewhere else," Professor Tate snapped a ruler hard on their shared desk before returning to the lesson.
"Power hungry, over-controlling, son-of-a…" Lucas mumbled under his breath.
Mark smirked as he pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. He already knew the material, but more notes never hurt anyone.
---
"Mark, come on!" Lucas grabbed Mark by the arm and pulled him out the door and down the stairs. "If you insist on moving at a snail's pace, we'll never get the funeral before the sink the casket in!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming—whoa!"
---
Raven refused to look away; she owed Beast Boy at least one thing: and that was not to cry. He would've hated to see her cry. But the sight of his coffin, lowering into the grave…memories, pain, and a few other emotions she cared not to name, all flooded in the minute the priest began to speak.
The crowd was enormous; none of the titans had known Beast Boy's fans had been so numerous. It probably had been within the past two years, since Beast Boy turned seventeen. A few weeks short of his birthday, he had begun to grow.
…And those years of training, Raven forced herself to admit, were beginning to show. Since then, he had shot up and muscled into a soccer player's build—muscular but not bulky—and had nearly reached as many fans as Robin or Starfire had. But in Beast Boy's case of fans, it was different.
Robin's fans were mostly female, Starfire's male, Cyborg's were mostly male and nerdy, and Raven's mostly gothic, some male, some female. But Beast Boy's fans, they were everything. Black, Hispanic, Caucasian, Asian, male, female, young, old—he had all types. The majority of them were college students, preferably animal majors.
As soon as the casket had finished lowering into the grave, she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. They were two boys, looking to be in early twenties. The first, a blond-haired man with distant green eyes was staring intently at the gravestone, where the other, his opposite, had brown hair and a sort of cocoa skin tone.
"…Raven? Hi, I'm Lucas!" the brown-haired boy was grinning ear to ear. "I know this is a sad time, but I just wanted to let you know I'm one of Beast Boy's b-biggest fans…"
Raven tuned him out, fixing her eyes on his friend. "Who are you?"
He didn't reply immediately, turning his head slowly to face her. Raven couldn't help but think he looked somewhat stoned…and like someone she knew.
"I'm Mark," he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by a voice coming from behind him,
"Hey, Raven, the presses want a word from us," the deep voice that Lucas nearly fainted at spoke. Mark glanced around and saw a dark-skinned man covered in metal and robotics—Cyborg, he presumed.
Cyborg stared at him for a few seconds, as if studying him. "…Gar?"
Whee! So this chapter was written by Sarah (egglette),so next chapter will be Jess (Rainbow-Jess). This story is more twisted then you may think, so sit back and enjoy the ride!
I don't know how long it'll be (and this is Sarah talking), just btw.