CHAPTER SEVEN

Tread Softly,

for You Tread on My Dreams

Slowly, the heavy darkness began to dispel. Her eyes opened and the dim room drifted into hazy focus. She was in her bed, her hair spilled over her soft pillow, her blanket wrapped loosely about her legs. Her heart was thumping though, warning her of something—something that was nearby.

A sharp pain lanced through her skull. Terra gritted her teeth, half-hissing, half crying in pain, and clutched her head tightly with her hands. She collapsed back against her cot, hearing its springs react beneath her weight.

“Ow...ow...owww..” she whimpered. “Owww...”

Her head wasn't the only thing that hurt. Her back hurt. Her neck hurt. Everything hurt, as if she'd been climbing a rocky slope and her foot had slipped, sending her to roll the entire way down. Her lip stung, and when she tentatively ran her tongue over it she tasted salty dried blood. She curled up into a ball, releasing her hands from where they had tightly gripped her hair, and her fingertips grazed the space beneath her jaw where he had...had...

Terra half-slid, half fell off out of bed, hitting the floor and jarring her limbs. She ignored the pain and crawled for the door. For once, Terra thought, the smallness of her room was a good thing. She reached the door and, after a few moments of preparation, got shakily to her feet. She pressed her palm against the panel beside the door, but it didn't open. She hit it with her hand a second time, but again it stayed closed. “Oh, come on!” Terra yelled, striking the panel repeatedly with her fist.

Her powers wouldn't be able to get her out. There was no earth around, only metal walls, flooring, and ceiling. And doing something to the complex might endanger her...especially if Slade got to her before she could escape. She was quite effectively trapped.

How did all of this this happen? Terra thought. Slade had been helping her; he had been taking care of her. Had all of that been an act? Everything he had done, everything he had said? All the times he had petted her shoulder when she had done well, every time he had helped her to her feet when she had failed to get something right—had it all been a lie?

I am so stupid, Terra raged, falling against the door. It was hard, but at least it was cool on her forehead. So stupid! I never should have left the Titans. They wanted to give me a home, they wanted to help me...and Beast Boy liked me... Instead I just ran away because—because—

She called back what had happened in the diamond mine all those months ago; how Slade had told her her that Beast Boy couldn't be trusted, that the Teen Titans would throw her out if they knew about her powers... How she had freaked out on Beast Boy afterwards... How Slade had shown up out of nowhere after she was homeless again...Terra suddenly felt a sick, queasy feeling come to her stomach.

Slade had wanted her to run away from them. Beast Boy hadn't broken his promise—Slade had simply manipulated her paranoia, had tricked her into thinking the Beast Boy was untrustworthy.

He wanted this from the beginning.

“No!” Terra slammed her fist against the door, beating it over and over. “No no no! No!” She slid down to the floor, her fist weakening and her voice reduced to a moan. “Oh jeeze...no...”

There was a strange click from beyond the door. Terra pulled away, looking up in time to see it slide open into the wall. Wintergreen stood above her, impossibly tall from her position on the floor, and she pulled away, scrambling across the floor. Wintergreen looked at her briefly, his expression cool and blank, then walked into the room. He was carrying something in his arms—a large parcel nearly two feet in length, neatly wrapped with an almost silky material. There were small protrusions poking against the fabric from inside, and it looked heavy in his arms. Wintergreen walked to her cot and set it down carefully on the disorganized sheets.

She wanted to say something, wanted to ask him for help—Wintergreen couldn't be like Slade. He was a nice old man; he wouldn't go along with something like this. But the lack of any concern for her on his face kept her silent. He headed for the door again. And gave her one last, cold look. “Put it on,” he said. He left the room, the door closing behind him, and Terra again heard the distinctive click of the locking mechanism.

She should have run when he had his back to her. Another stupid move.

Terra pulled herself up off the floor, and walked to the cot. She began to unwrap the parcel, but it was harder than it looked—her hands were shaking. She pulled away the final fold, and stared down, uncomprehending, at its contents. Stacked carefully were pieces armor, more than she had seen even Slade wear. Each peace was silver, and the insides were lined with black cushioning. There were dark gloves and boots and some small little squares with protrusions at the top, and she didn't know what they were supposed to be. Accompanying the armor was was the stuff that had to be worn underneath; something small and dark blue, and light gray cloth that eerily reminded her of surgical bandages.

Terra felt her stomach flip. It all looked so heavy and complicated, and it reminded her too much of Slade. She didn't want to touch it, much less put it on her body.

If you don't put it on he'll make you, she thought, and the low throbbing in her limbs seemed to ache more acutely at the thought.

Terra stared at the suit and armor helplessly. After biting her lip painfully for a few tense seconds, her hands dropped to the hem of her black shirt and gripped it nervously. Black had never been her color, but now it seemed better than this. She pulled the shirt over her head and flung it to the floor, then reached for her shorts.

It took several tries to get the clothing on right and clasp each piece of armor in its appropriate place over it. The armor wasn't as heavy as it looked, but it still pulled down on her a little; she moved her arms and legs, trying to adapt to the weight. The chest carapace, with its strange circular indentation in the front, fit snugly around her thin torso but also gave her plenty of room to breathe comfortably.

Terra walked to her closet, opening the door and looking into the mirror resting on its opposite side. She stared numbly at her reflection, at the small, awkward body that shouldn't be dressed this way. The armor looked all wrong, made her seem smaller and more ungainly than ever before.

She couldn't look at herself anymore. Terra quickly closed the door and went to sit on the cot. Her eyes started to sting. This is all my fault, she thought bitterly. I knew he was the bad guy. Beast Boy told me that he was the bad guy...

She stared at the ceiling to keep herself from crying, her eyes following the small cracks and contours running along it with shaky resolve. She didn't know how long she sat there before another frighteningly loud click at the door made her snap her gaze toward the door. Terra stood up quickly, wondering what Wintergreen had brought for her this time. The door slid open, but instead of revealing the thin, old butler, Slade stood in the doorway, his massive form dominating the empty threshold. His thick, metal-studded arms hung almost casually at his sides. His sharp eye fell on her intently, almost eagerly, as he walked into the room. Terra suddenly remembered what she was wearing she turned her back to him, closing her eyes and just wishing that he would disappear. She heard a slight chuckle behind her, and he spoke. “Turn around and face me, Terra.”

Terra wrapped her arms over her front, trying to feebly hide the armor adorning her small frame, and turned around. Slade stood in the middle of the room, and he made a motion for her to join him. She slowly did so, feeling the armor on her knees scrape against her with each step. When she stopped in front of him, Slade indicated her torso with one languid hand. “Drop them,” he said. Terra removed her trembling arms, letting them fall to her sides. Her suit now unobstructed, Slade looked her over, his single eye moving up and down her body appraisingly. “Good,” he said, giving a slow nod of satisfaction. “Very good.”

Terra bit her lip. Her eyes unfocused as she stared at the floor—anywhere as long as it wasn't at him.

“But...it seems to be missing something...” The vague timbre in his voice made Terra raise her head. The man reached to his belt, long fingers prying into one leather compartment, and he produced a disk-shaped emblem. It was dark red, and the front emblazoned with a sharp “S” that Terra had often seen during her time here. Slade turned the object around a few times, then reached out, placing it into the shallow indentation of her chest carapace. Terra stared numbly down her front as he locked it into place. Tears burned against her eyes, blurring her vision.

“Beast Boy...” she began in a trembling voice; she had to pause to keep her voice from breaking. “He...he never told Robin about my powers, did he?”

Slade must have known there was no need for deception now. “No, he did not.”.

“Robin—Robin just figured it all out on his own.”

“I would have been disappointed in him if he hadn't.”

“You lied to me,” Terra said.

“I merely did what I had to do, Terra.” His hand brushed her jaw, gripping it tightly to prevent her from pulling away. He seemed to be smiling under that mask, his eye gleaming greedily. His next words were patronizing, dripping with false affection. “My apprentice...dim, gullible little apprentice...”

Something in her snapped. Terra let out a sharp cry, striking his wrist with her palm and shoving his hand away. She pulled her tightening fist back to hit him, but her entire body spasmed, an invisible current shooting through her body and seizing it painfully. Terra's arm fell abruptly, and her knees weakened, making her lurch forward. She tried to remain standing but her arms and legs weren't responding. After a brief, panicked struggle Terra felt herself drop clumsily to the floor on her hands and knees. She began to sit up involuntarily, as if her body were possessed, and Terra recoiled from the harsh, almost electrical current she could feel racing through her skin.

“N-no...” she found herself saying. She could hear herself breathing and gasping loudly, and was suddenly aware of cold sweat forming beneath her suit. She was sure that her heart was going to burst from her ribs, that it was going to explode from sheer terror and splatter all over the inside of her new chest armor. “Oh—no—”

“Did I forget mention,” Slade spoke above her, his smooth voice raising calmly over her horrified cries, “what my favorite part of this delightful suit is?”

Terra looked up at him with wide, unblinking eyes. No. That wasn't possible. He couldn't be—

“This is far more than a mere suit, my dear,” he continued. “It is a sophisticated neural interface, allowing me direct access to your nervous system. As soon as you put it on it began to extend itself into your skin. It allows me to tap into your motor functions, even to take those magnificent powers of yours all for myself if I so wish. You and I, Terra, we are connected. Completely.”

Terra shook her head emphatically. “That's impossible! You can't...you can't control me. And you can't take my powers! They're mine!”

“Oh?” Slade said. He held up his hand, the fingers closing in on his palm almost lazily. “Then perhaps a little demonstration to prove my sincerity?”

Terra felt something like a violent synapse course through her—and then, the more familiar sensation that came whenever her powers began to swell within her. Terra broke out into a fresh sweat and began shaking her head wildly. “No, no, don't! Don't!”

Slade opened his hand, and Terra felt her powers relinquish, and her sapped energy drain with it.

“That's a good girl,” he said. “You always did learn quickly.”

Maybe it was the way he said it all so calmly that made a shudder wrack through her body. “Slade, please,” she begged. Any remnant of pride was abandoned, replaced only by unrestrained desperation. “Please, let me go. I'll—I'll do anything you want, I will. Just please let me go.”

The man regarded her with an amused tilt of his head. “Oh, Terra,” he said to her, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “That is a poor bargaining chip, I'm afraid.” His fingers made the slightest twitch, and Terra felt a small tug at her arm. “I already have that.”

Terra let her head fall, her hair slipping over her shoulders and shielding her face like a pathetic curtain. The tears that she had been holding back for so long finally broke free as she choked out one ugly sob after another. She could feel her body relax from his hold, could feel his invisible grip loosen, but she didn't take advantage and trying to escape. He wouldn't release her if she could get away.

“Now, how hard things are going to have to be from now on depends on your behavior.” Slade's stance shifted slightly—she could see his steel-lined boots move through a parting in her hair. “As my apprentice you will be expected to give me strict obedience. Anything less, and I will have no choice but resort to controlling you myself. And I do not think you want that.” A brief, demonstrative shock traveled along her flesh, eliciting a peep from her, and Terra curled in on herself. “Do we have an understanding, apprentice?”

Terra nodded, still sniffling miserably.

“Good,” Slade said lightly. “I'll expect to see you for training at the usual time this afternoon.” He turned and walked for the door, but stopped before opening it. “I suggest you cry that little heart of yours out now—I won't tolerate that in that future.”

The door closed behind him.

(TT TT TT)

She was too miserable to do anything but lie face-down in bed, making small, pathetic noises into her sheets. She'd long given up trying to remove the armor—it was too painful, and like a filthy, worthless coward she hadn't been able to take the pain. Her head was swimming with images—images of Titans Tower, of Beast Boy, of the look on his face when she had screamed at him and run away. Images of sleeping in caves again, of Slade, of him helping her; of that secretive, superior voice he had always spoken with as he looked down on her, and he'd been laughing, silently laughing at her all along, laughing at how stupid and blind she was to swallow all of the lies he had told her.

“Beast Boy,” she whimpered. “Beast Boy I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please come get me, please. I don't want to be here anymore.”

Eventually she stopped crying, and that was worse. But no more tears came and after a while she gave up trying to squeeze them out. She spent the rest of her time watching the clock, dreading when it would be time to leave the metal confines of this room and walk to the cavern where Slade had—

Just the thought of it all, of him, made her want to throw up. She couldn't do this, couldn't stay here under his thumb forever. He was a monster. He had hit her, had drugged her, had put her in some kind of sick, evil suit that could make her do whatever Slade wanted with her.

The clock, glowing in the darkness, was ignorant of her plight. In what seemed like an eternity squashed into the space of a minute, the clock's sinister red numbers told her it was time to go. Terra found herself leaving the safety of her small cot. She walked to the door and stepped out into the hallway. It was empty, but she still felt wrong. She wanted to cover herself up like she had when Slade had seen her in this armor, even if no one was here. She felt self-conscious and ridiculous and...and...something that made her want to blush a shameful crimson color, to hide her face in her hands like a little girl and scrunch up in a ball and pretend to disappear.

The walk to the cavern was too short; even though she kept her pace painfully the same the entire way—slow—she could swear she was increasing speed the closer she got.

Slade was waiting for her like always in the training room. Terra noticed that the cavern hadn't been completely cleaned up from the mess she had made when she'd tried to escape. There were still a few of the boulders and rocks lying around, and the fissures she'd made in the floor were still there.

Back in the middle of the floor, Slade's head inclined slightly, his laser-like gaze never leaving her. Terra felt really sick now, like she was going to pass out or lose control of her ability to stand. She wanted to run, but she was afraid to run for the first time in her life. She walked toward him, and half-heartedly pretended that Slade was making her do this; that it was the suit forcing her to walk, not her. She kept her eyes away from his masked face, until she was staring at the bottom of his chest by the time she was standing only a few feet across from him, arms held rigidly at her sides.

This was it. This was really, really it.

“You're late,” Slade told her.

“I-I-I'm sorry—”

Slade turned from her, walking a few paces away and removing his bo staff from his belt. He spun sharply, bringing up the staff and swinging it in a blurred horizontal arc that caught her in a sharp burst of pain above her left eye. She hit the ground on her side from the force of the blow, emitting a soft cry as a dizzying, knife-like pain spread through her skull. Terra felt something wet sliding down her forehead and reached up and wiped at it with the side of her gloved hand. She didn't dare to the look at the dark smear that was now on her glove.

“You should have been able to avoid that. Get up, apprentice.”

Her brain reeling, feeling sick, Terra staggered to her feet. She'd barely lifted her head when she saw Slade spin his staff once and strike her again, planting his right foot forward and bringing the steel weapon into her abdomen. Terra's eyes bulged and she dropped to her knees, her arms wrapping tightly around her middle as she doubled over.

“Oh, come now,” Slade said, pacing back and forth almost lazily, “even you can do better than that. Up.”

Terra didn't move. Her body was aching, and that staff was just waiting to hit her again...

“Stand up, apprentice. Now.”

“...no...”

The staff clanked to the ground. “Very well,” he said, and she looked upwards to his fist close, the knuckles bulging slightly against the smooth gray material of his glove.

Terra let out a grated out a scream as what felt like a million electric jolts shot into her skin. She arched her back, hands splaying and fingers curling, but after a moment of agony the grueling sensations dissipated as quickly as they had come, leaving a low hum of pain in its fiery wake. Then it returned, surging through her flesh and making her body tighten in spasms. Finally it relented, and she fell forward clumsily on her palms, her screams of pain dying in echo against the cavern walls. Terra twitched involuntarily, flinching at a few stray sparks that ran along her suddenly-warm armor before snapping out of existence.

“My my,” Slade said above her, “I seem to have forgotten to tell you about a few other features your suit was installed with...I hope that didn't come as too much of a surprise.”

Terra tried to growl at the man, but only a strangled half-sob came from her throat. She froze in terror as the armor came to life again, but there was no torturous pain this time; just that discomforting needling sensation followed by the surreal feeling of being a living puppet; she began to stand up, and she weakly tried to resist the man's silent command. It didn't matter—Slade gave a slight tilt of his head and Terra felt the suit burn into her skin more intensely. She could barely feel her legs anymore as she got to her feet, her spine straightening.

“Now, perhaps I didn't make my position very clear this afternoon, Terra,” Slade said as he walked toward the girl and gripped the top of her chest carapace, pulling her toward him. “But in case I have left any lingering doubts in you mind, let me remind you of our new deal: you work for me now. You chose to come here and accept my generosity, and now it's time to repay your debts. There's no going back now, apprentice. And the sooner you accept this fact, the more pleasant the rest of your time here will be.” Slade paused. “And I'm afraid that is going to be a long, long time.”

Terra forced herself to think of the Titans, of Beast Boy, tried to assure herself that they would come for her, that soon all of this would be over and Slade would be in jail, or dead, or something. They were heroes, weren't they? They would find her. That was what they did. She had to keep believing they would find her.

I promise, I'll never try to be a hero again, I'll go away, I'll do anything, just please come rescue me, guys, please—

“Now,” Slade said, tugging threateningly on her chest armor, “are you going to be a good little apprentice and do as I say, or will I have to give this suit another test run to make sure it's long-term functions are working properly?”

Terra shook her head quickly, blonde hair flashing around her chin. She swallowed the ball in her throat, the one that was trying to force itself up and make her simper like a little girl, and said in a quaky voice, She gave a shallow nod. “Yes, I'll—I mean, I'll be good...”

Slade released her, giving her a light shove away from him that sent her stumbling back. “That's my girl. Now, back to the lesson. Let's see if you can disarm your opponent.”

His voice barely registered for her. Terra had that feeling again. The one that made her want to cover up and hide, that made her face burn with hot shame, made her feel naked and stupid and worthless...

Humiliation.

(To be continued)