Titangirl here, with another dramatic achievement in the field of writing. Well, maybe not. If you want that, go read stories by LegendMaker. Here are a few ground rules:

This story is rated really high due to: bad language, possible sexual scenes, violence, death, and dark situations. I have no idea whether I am good at making fight scenes detailed, but if I am, then expect them to be graphic!

This is a first try for me in the way of dark stories. My story, Something's Different may have a hint of a dark tinge to it, but this is major for me, even if it isn't for you. I am new at this so constructive criticism, not flames, are desired.

Terra is, once again, alive in my story. Back story still pending.

Some DCU characters that I haven't used before will appear in this story, and two I have will as well. Possibly more.

Just so people don't get confused later on in the story, Jump is where the Titans are, Gotham is where Batsy is, Bludhaven has no one except the future Nightwing to look forward to, Keystone is the Flash's town, Star City is Green Arrow's city, Metropolis is the Man of Steel's, and I am placing the Doom Patrol in California…somewhere.

I hope that you like this story, as it really is a new undertaking for me. It may not seem that bad to you, but to me, a sensitive Roman Catholic girl…it is. Enjoy and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans, Batman, the Martian Manhunter, Superman, the Flash, Wonder Woman, or any other DC related super hero or villain.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Teen Titans have operated out of Jump City for a while now, never changing members, always getting the villain, always playing the part of the hero. But today, the dream city will shatter into pieces as the Fates snap that final string of life that one person clings to. One that has been cut before but returned, stronger than ever. The Fates do not understand, nor do they try to. The fates have been sealed. Another monumental death is to occur today. But dear Fates, do watch that string, won't you?

The Teen Titans, super heroes.

Robin, the Boy Wonder, protégé to Batman, the World's Greatest Detective.

Starfire, the alien princess, ruler of an entire planet that she left in space so that she might defend the weak planet of Earth.

Beast Boy, the changeling, shape shifter extraordinaire, ex member of the famed Doom Patrol.

Raven the half demon sorceress, daughter of Trigon the Terrible and the darkest member of the team.

Cyborg, the half-robot, characteristically described as the tin man with a heart.

Terra, the geokinetic Markovian princess, still attempting to gain control over her extensive powers.

He wanted none of them. None of them would do. Robin was too loyal, trained by the idiotic Bat to fight evil and protect the innocent. Was anyone innocent these days? Even the most shy and sensitive teen could be found doing the naughty, drunk at some high school party where pills are passed around like candy. Sickening, all of it.

Terra, no. She had been tried. She failed the final test, the elimination of the Teen Titans. Another potential partner ruined because she felt like having some friends. Friends that would never be true friends. Friends that would never truly forgive her for the past, the past she tries too hard to forget.

And Raven, spawn of a demon. She would turn out to be just like her father, an ignorant demon who craved power but never had the cunning to just take what he wanted. He always fought for it, like some Crusade back in the days when chivalry was still young.

Fathers. What they do to even the best people. Batman, Trigon, who next?

Fathers.

Fathers.

Fathers had prospective power over their children, molding them into whatever they chose for them to be. Fathers had influence. Fathers had supremacy. A child of his. That's what he needed for success.

Where had that beautiful daughter of his gotten to?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Paris, France. November 16th, 2007.

Four years. Four years in a small house in France.

Three months. Three months until she could leave to make her own way in the world.

Seventeen. She was seventeen years old, living in Paris with her adoptive family. Her lovely Parisian mother and straight-edge father. Her beautiful younger sister, Isabelle, with the blonde hair that flowed in the wind. Leon, her creative art teacher, whose private classes she took on the weekend to better her skill. Emilio, her boyfriend of two years.

"Bonjor, mademoiselle. Comment allez-vous?" Snapped out of her reverie, Rose Wilson shook her white-blonde hair out of her eyes and took in this stranger. He was clad in jeans and a plain black shirt, a motorcycle jacket thrown on haphazardly. She wondered how he could stand the biting cold of the November winds. It was forty-eight when she left the house approximately two hours previously, and night was falling. It must be only thirty degrees out. She shivered just thinking about the temperature. She preferred the heat of California to the arctic tundra she was in now. Remembering the stranger, she replied.

"Je suis bon, monsieur. Merci de demander." She was fine, if not a bit cold. She shivered and grasped her parka a bit closer. She stood to leave, picking up her art supplies from the ground beside her. She could not see the stranger. She hoped he wasn't checking her out. She turned again and saw the stranger looking…well, actually, she didn't know where he was looking. Dark sunglasses hid the man's eyes. Suddenly, Rose became very scared. She decided to say goodbye to the man once and for all, and then simply leave.

"Au revoir, monsieur," Rose said, anxious to get away from the creepy older man. She turned to leave. That's when she felt the hand on her shoulder. She knew it was him. Then, she felt him speak into her ear, in a low but urgent voice.

"Rose, si vous souhaitez revoir votre petite soeur, vous me rencontrerez sur Tour Eiffel à minuit exactement, pas une minute tard. Comprenez-vous?"

Rose had to mentally take time to understand, shocked as she was.

"Rose, if you wish to see your little sister again, you will meet me on top of the Eiffel Tower at exactly midnight, not a minute late. Do you understand?"

Suddenly Rose was overwhelmed with two emotions, fear and hatred. Fear for Isabelle, the girl of only six. And hatred. She hated that this man, this monster had violated her family, had violated her! He couldn't hold her family hostage!

Unable to speak, thoroughly shocked with fear and loathing, Rose only nodded mutely.

"Good," the man whispered in French. No, everything was not good. She felt the hand lift from her shoulder. She spun, intent on facing her quarry, but no one was there. The cold November breeze blew by, silent as a mouse. She waited.

Three seconds.

Five seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

She headed home, knowing that Isabelle was in trouble and she was going to help the little girl.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rose Wilson felt sick to her stomach. Climbing out her window into the freezing night was not usually part of her nightly game plan. Food, homework, boyfriend, draw, sleep. It was strange to get up from her comfortable down bed at 8:30 p.m. and dress in black jeans, a grey long-sleeved shirt, a black silky vest, and a comfy black winter jacket. She was not taking her chances with the French cold.

At nine o'clock exactly, Rose propped open her window, pausing only to grab her phone, iPod, and some money. She had no idea how long she would be gone for or if she would even come back. She had given some thought to that idea. If she could not save Isabelle, then she would simply not return. It never occurred to her to call the police.

Rose's parents had been out all day, first at work, then a lunch/business meeting, more work, important dinner with a client, and then a fancy charity gala event. Her adoptive parents thought that she had tucked in Isabelle and was heading to bed early. Poor, poor Gabrielle and Jacque. They had no idea that both their daughters would be gone in one night, possibly never returning.

Rose lifted herself out of her bedroom window, climbing onto an ivy covered trellis situated on the wall near the window. She jumped – hoping for a save grab for the lattice – and managed to attach herself to the wall. Rose climbed down slowly, having difficulty keeping her hands from shaking in the cold air. She briefly wondered why she hadn't worn gloves.

Now, why hadn't lovely Rose just gone out the front door? It was a mixture of not wanting the neighbors to see her leave and wanting to act like a super spy. Personally, I'm sure the latter was more important at the moment.

She reached the ground and headed for her bike. They lived about ten feet outside the city limits, but until then, she had to ride. Then, she'd chain up her bike and hop on the metro.

Riding fast, Rose sped to the Eiffel Tower. She was needed. Her poor sister needed her. Who knew what that madman would do to her? She rode faster. Finally reaching the metro, she hopped on, scanning her pass from earlier. It took her twenty minutes to reach the Eiffel Tower. She checked her phone. It was 10:36, giving her plenty of time to figure out a strategy. She glanced over at the Tower, taking in its sheer size and security. Tourists were allowed in the historic monument from 9:30 a.m. to 11:00 p.m. between September 1st to December 31st. She realized that she had to get up there quickly if she wanted to get in at all. Rushing to the entrance of the Eiffel Tower, she quickly dashed to the elevator, which would only take her to the second floor. Quickly hitting the button for another elevator, Rose checked her phone again. 10:48.

She stepped onto the second elevator, allowing three French teenagers out of it, first, and hit the button for the top of the Tower. When she reached the top, she glanced around. An elderly couple was just heading for the elevator and a family of American tourists was staring out over the edge of the Tower, taking pictures. Rose thought, tapping her foot. Quickly getting an idea, Rose went to the railing of the Tower, rapidly climbing it and hiding out of sight, the frozen wind biting at her fingers. There she waited.

A minute.

Five minutes.

Seven minutes.

Ten minutes.

"Rose, veuillez descendre ici." She would have recognized his voice anywhere. That silky, smooth tone almost made her want to believe that nothing bad was going to happen. She climbed down, just like he asked her to. He was wearing the same outfit as earlier and she noticed that he had an eye patch. She stared at him for a moment and then looked around, trying to spot her darling little sister.

"Isabelle chérie est sûre à la maison, Rose. I jamais même eu lui. J'ai simplement demandé à sa garde d'enfants de la garder pendant quelques plus d'heures."

Rose was shocked. He had never even touched Isabelle! He had just left her at the babysitter! Relief washed over Rose, but didn't stay long.

Cautiously, she stepped back. If he didn't have Isabelle, what did he want from her? Money? She had none of that. Sex? She'd only had sex twice, both times with Emilio, and she wasn't about to let herself be raped.

"Qui… qui sont vous?" Rose asked, her French stuttering out unevenly. The man smiled at her, a smooth, almost loving smile.

"Je suis votre père, Rose, et je veux que vous veniez avec moi."

"Impossible," Rose breathed, not sure if she was still speaking French or had reverted into her natural English. She stared at the white haired man and suddenly felt…as if he would not lie.

"We have the same hair, Rose. The same blue eyes, the same mind," he said, stepping forward, toward the girl he was frightening so.

Rose shook her head and said, "My mother died and my father was never part of my life. If you are he, why would you return now?"

"I discovered you, my Rose, and I wish for you to join me. I love you and I want to be a family," he said, finally getting close enough to wrap his arms around the teenager.

"I barely know you. What is your name? Where do you live? What do you do? Why now?" she asked, feeling protected by the man's arms. "And why fake having my sister to draw me near. Why not just tell me in the park?"

"I couldn't tell you then, Rose. The time was not right and I needed you to not be able to just get up and run. It was too public for our reunion. As for your other questions, my name is Slade Wilson and I live in Jump City, California."

"California? I used to live there," Rose said, slowly slipping out of her father's arms. "What do you do?" she asked again.

"I do what my employers wish me to do," he said, not answering her question directly.

Just then, like a flash of light, Rose Wilson saw something. Something that was not happening at this very moment.

"You're a mercenary!" she gasped, understanding what her vision meant. She had seen her father, in exactly the same position he was currently in, telling her his occupation.

Slade looked amazed. "How did you know?" he asked, noting that he had been about to tell her that.

"I…saw it. Like a vision," Rose said, furrowing her brow. Slade thought quickly. This put a hitch in his plans. Luckily, Deathstroke the Terminator always has a backup plan.

"I have been expecting this," he said, improvising.

"You have?" she asked, surprised. He nodded and pulled out a syringe.

"Here, Rose. This will help," he said. She held out her arm, trusting him even though she'd just met him. He smiled at her as he inserted the needle into her vein, emptying the syringe and allowing the toxin, a super-serum that had been previously used on him in his army days, to spread through her system.

Rose felt a stab of pain in her stomach, a stab of pain that spread from her abdomen all through her body. She looked at her father, expecting trickery. He smiled down at her and said, "Just give it a moment, Rose, dear."

She waited, but the pain only got worse. She gulped and swallowed, suddenly very thirsty. Suddenly, the pain was gone, replaced by a soft, mellow feeling, as if she were floating. She realized that she was lying on the floor, and apparently had been convulsing. He father hovered over her, checking her pulse and breathing.

"Rose? Are you alright, daughter?" he asked, saying the word 'daughter' almost possessively. Rose nodded and stood up, her balance more on target than it ever had been before.

"Will you come with me, Rose? Please, for your father."

Rose looked slightly hesitant. Slade continued speaking.

"Aimez-vous voir ce que votre père fait pour une vie, Rose? Aidez-moi, Rose. Aidez-moi à tuer les Teen Titans."

Rose nodded. She wanted to do this now. She knew that helping her father would be the best thing ever. She had a real family now.

"Oh, daddy, this is going to be so much fun!" Rose said, embracing her father.