If I had a choice, I would probably rate this story T+ for swearing and graphic violence...at least, graphic for me, I'm not sure what the general qualification is. But yeah...you've been warned...
Summary: Dick's journey back to Gotham, delayed from a cancelled flight due to unexplained disturbances, is cut shorter when he literally runs into a lost-looking girl. With unseen forces following them across the country, Dick finds himself running for his life in a terrifying intergalactic game of hide-and-seek.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans.
"The Citadel is coming up in a few light years, Princess," cackled the foul Gordonian, pacing around the tiny room of the spaceship. "Scared?"
Princess Koriand'r glared at him through the one eye that wasn't puffed up and black. "No."
The Gordonian sniggered at her, tilting her chin up with his fingernail. "We know you are, Princess, there's no need to hide your fear anymore. There is no escape for you. There is no escape for your planet. They will all die by our hands one way or another..."
"You vile, conniving piece of scum! We agreed to a treaty--!"
"Treaty, schmeaty. Tamaran has long since belonged to us, the stupid Troqs."
"You do not dare call my people Troqs when you yourelf are so cowardly, you are reduced to bounty hunting!"
His eyes narrowed. "Bring me my staff," he ordered one of the nearby Gordonians. The Princess knew she was going to get it. Again, she tried to wriggle out of the bonds that had held her strapped to the tiny metal table for the past three days, but it was no use. The Gordonian raised a bright white staff, glowing blue with energy, and brought it down, hard, on her stomach. Koriand'r coughed violently, her ribs in uncontrollable pain. He shocked her in the shoulder with the pointed tip, cutting it half open. She bit her lips to keep from screaming as he beat her. "That should teach you to keep your mouth shut," he hissed. "Get her ready to be moved."
Another Gordonian slid under her table and untied her hands from the back. Two more held her down while her hands were rotated to the front, where handcuffs were slapped on. "You try to leave, we have the self-destruct button right here," one Gordonian warned. Koriand'r said nothing.
As soon as they were out in the hallway, she summoned up the last of her strength and screamed, swinging her arms around and knocking out the Gordonians. Someone heard the commotion and aliens were about to come into the hallway. She had to act fast. Only when she smashed her way out of the spaceship wall, into the deep realms of space, and was blasted away by the fiery wake did she realize that the self-destruct button was still on the ship.
"What do you mean, there aren't any other flights?!" Dick yelled.
"I'm sorry, sir, but there won't be another flight to Gotham for about eight hours. The air traffic has all been disturbed, and no one wants to take any chances. One flight has already crashed. We thank you for your cooperation and--"
"Shit. Just what I need," Dick grumbled, marching away. "I could drive to Gotham before another flight--" What a brilliant idea. Hmm. Where's the Hertz bus when you need it? Probably blocking airport traffic somewhere...
"All we have is that there Honda. You sign the pay-pers?" the rental car owner asked. His accent already annoyed Dick.
"Yeah. Where's the car?"
"O'er there." Dick was already leaving.
"Wait! Ya might want these here keys..." Dick scowled and grabbed the keys from him, stalking away. "Them Gotham people...ain't never knew one who had any manners..."
Dick was becoming quite the pottymouth. He was driving in complete darkness and still had quite a ways to go to reach Gotham City. He must have been crossing some quiet, very rural town in Nebraska. It was about 4:00 a.m. and he was cranky--the clock fizzled out and came back to life. It was now 99 o'clock.
"Stupid car, of course I get the messed up one..." he growled, pressing buttons.
"Turn left and go sixty miles," his GPS told him coolly. Dick swerved the the left, only to realize there was no road there.
"What the heck? I turn left, I end up in a lake!" he roared at the poor machine.
"Northeast for zero point three feet," the GPS ordered, the voice suddenly warped.
"You...havearrived...at...your...destina--" The GPS stopped working completely. The screen just blacked out.
"Perfect. Just perfect." He floored the accelerator in his frustration, not caring about his speed. It was a road in the middle of nowhere after all. Only then did his headlights fall upon a humanoid figure walking across the street, a millesecond before he crashed.
"No...no...no..." This couldn't be happening. He'd ran over a person. He'd just killed someone. Dick tore out of the car and saw the body lying a few feet away. It was a girl. Long crimson hair spilled everywhere...at least, he hoped it was hair. She was wearing the strangest clothes, like rubber, with shockingly purple go-go boots and a matching tube top and mini-skirt. Her tanned skin was covered in a terrible amount of bruises and cuts, some fresh and others healing. Could he have caused all of those injuries? "Wake up, please..."
The girl's eyes snapped open, completely green, unlike anything he'd ever seen before. They flashed dangerously, and she growled nonsense at him, jumping to her feet. Dick jumped out of the way, utterly freaked out. "Wait! I'm just trying to help!"
She showed no sign that she understood him, and raised both hands, ready to fight. Only then did he realize that she was wearing handcuffs, but strange ones. They went all the way up to her elbows and were a brilliant white, more like metal casts than anything, binding her hands together effectively. She tried to shake them off, but couldn't, her growling becoming more urgent. A beeping sounded in the background, but on closer inspection, it was coming from the handcuffs. "Hold on," Dick told her, running to the car. He dug in his office bag for a paper clip and came back out. The beeping had gotten faster, and the girl was desperately trying to break them, banging her hands on the road.
"Wait a second! Look. Trust me." Her attention turned back to him, menacing again. "I'm going to help you!" Dick caught her hand, but she threw him off, and he flew a good seven feet away. She was strong. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to take those things off.
The beeping was almost a continuous sound, now. He knew that meant he only had a little time left. Dick ran and gripped her hand again. More out of surprise than trust, she let him pick the lock on the handcuffs. They broke.
Before they fell to the ground, the girl grabbed them and threw them as hard as she could. Not five yards away, while it was sailing, the handcuffs exploded. A couple of seconds later, and the girl would have exploded along with them. She watched the fiery ball as it died down in the air, leaving no indication that there had ever been anything flying through there. Then she stared at Dick, as if not knowing what to make of him. He dropped his paperclip and held up his hands to show he had no weapons. "I'm not here to hurt you," he said.
The girl responded in some warbled, mixed up language that he didn't recognize. Was it a language? Or had he hit her in the head and caused her brain damage? Great...oh great...Bruce is gonna kill me for this lawsuit...
"Okay. I'm not sure if you can understand me, but why don't you get into the car"--He pointed to the rental car which now had scratched paint from the handcuffs--"and I'll take you to the hospital to get fixed up." He gestured at her bruises.
"Gordonia," she hissed at him.
"What?" He didn't have time for this. "Okay, when you decide what you want to do, let me know. I'm gonna try and find the nearest hospital, alright?" Dick slammed the driver-side door, taking a deep breath. First hospital. Then call Bruce. Hospital. Bruce. Better save the grim job for last.
There was a knock at his window. 'The Girl,' as he had now dubbed her, was standing outside, curiously gazing at his car. Did she expect a chivalrous door-opening, chair-pulling, five-star waiter service or what? Dick opened the door, careful not to hit her, and held out his hand. "You know how to work a car, right? You get in, and you sit tight." 'The Girl' didn't look like she understood him, but allowed herself to be carried away. Thank goodness, since she probably could have just thrown him again and that would be the end of that.
Her hands were virtually bruise free, which surprised Dick. Wouldn't they have broken or something, when he'd hit her? She was even bruised and cut where those strange handcuffs had covered her arms. Her wrists had been chafed until they were bright, raw red. Tire tracks, maybe? It made him shudder, to think of the pain of being run over. He focused his eyes elsewhere, trying to get rid of the guilt that harbored in his stomach. She was alive, that was what mattered.
"Sit here. Don't move," he told her. He didn't actually know why he bothered, but 'The Girl' seemed to get the message. Dick climbed back into the driver's seat and started the car, which thankfully, was still working. "Damn. GPS is still shot. What the heck happened?"
She stared at him, and not for the first time he saw that there was something more behind the unintelligible grumbling. "Do you know what's going on?" She turned around and fiddled with the radio curiously. "Or I'm making things up and probably shouldn't be talking to victims of amnesia..."
Sorry, that was a dumb way to end it, but I hope you like it so far...