To Feel the Rain Again

And there she sat, erect, forlorn, seeming as an old, marble pillar would, alone amidst the wreck of what used to be, forgotten by ages and kings that time had stolen long ago. The seconds ate away at her, billowed against her, to where she had to struggle hard against time itself.

            * "Drain it nurse, I'm going to cut a bit deeper," the doctor said. Sweat began to bead on his forehead. The lights shining around the medical team seemed to highlight a hue that separated the small area from the rest of reality. He poised the surgical knife over the incision waiting for assistance. In a flick of expertise, the doctor cut deeper into the neck of the patient. *

            She slowly lifted her hand and felt the back of her neck, perceiving the presence of stitches. Her hand ran along the entirety of the wound, following the swollen tissue to the base of her skull. The thought of the gash brought back memories, but only in pieces. She took the fragments, the flashes of lights and faces, trying to sift through them, but was unable to construct a complete image. She only knew that it had been a long night.

* "Just as I thought, the 3rd and 4th cervixes are completely shattered. We'll have to re-graft them latter." The doctor lifted and prodded around the broken neck bones. "Look how damaged the surrounding tissue is!" An assistant behind the shadows jotted down the doctor's observation beneath a list of others. Preceding the synopsis was listed, "3 breaks—right ulna, 1 break—right femur, 2 breaks—left fibula, crack and inflammation to the cranium, 2 ribs bruised, 1 broken…" *

Behind her lay the dangling masses of casts and braces that had once bound her body. They hung like lifeless shells from the threads and ropes that were meant to hold her together. The doctors said they were necessary, but all she wanted to be right now was free. She no longer felt any need for them.

* The knife continued to carve through the flesh and water searching for some sign of hope for the patient. "This doesn't make any sense…" the doctor said staring in awe at the sight that lay before him, "Her spinal cord…it's completely severed!" The nurse looked questioningly at the surgeon, both of them frozen. "But doctor," she said, "if it's severed, how could she have walked?" *

A broken vase lay on the floor in front of her. She had no idea how it had ended up that way, but there it was all the same. Its contents were strewn about the floor amid wet fragments and bruised flower petals. If only she could have realized how close she was to that vase…

~~~

"You can see her now," spoke a nurse. Four sat, huddled up in chairs, waiting. They had stayed that way during the entirety of the night, hoping and praying for a friend who lay behind the double doors. All had bloodshot eyes, all were tired, all were stressed. The pressure of their emotions was evident in their zombie-like gaze that seemed to fix on nothing. They had sat imagining a friend lying alone, on the edge of death, with only time to help her. To them, the future seemed to be as unstable as the wind, and just as intangible. They fought against it, if not with words or actions, but with thoughts and penetrating desires. But it seemed hopeless, for fighting time was a losing battle.

The nurse's words shattered the stagnant air and gave them something to hold onto, even if just for a moment. They rose and left the waiting room.

The procession resembled that of a funeral. The nurse led them down the corridor, with the four following in silence. No words or thoughts were exchanged between anyone. They only heard a deathly hum that seeped from the walls and carefully sanitized floors. They all feared what they would find in one of those rooms. Each pictured in their head the image of their friend as they saw her last. They had fought hard that night, and she had been broken almost to unconsciousness. But some ferocity in her mind helped her hold on until the fight was over. She had briefly walked afterwards, but Raven had been forced to carry her the rest of the way. Raven's cloak and leotard were still covered in blood.

Lifeless, it seemed, they had left her.

Now all they could hold onto was hope.

The door opened slowly, for Robin dared not disturb the patient. He expected her life to be hanging on by a thread, but the sight that he beheld behind that door stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Starfire?" he said, but the words were lifeless and stopped inches from his lips. She sat, fully awake, on the bed facing a window, apparently admiring the richness of the Earthly morning. The funeral procession followed Robin in, transfixed by equal shock. The four would have been elated had not this picture been so strange. The plaster casts and splints hung behind her in disuse; instead they were the ones hanging by only a thread. She appeared to be…fine. Though covered with bruises, she sat upright, hands in her lap as though she had been that way all night long.

Slowly, Starfire rose, without a flinch or grimace, and starred back at the four with eyes that had a certain depth that the others were not accustomed to. They were etched and looked weathered. Her lips slowly pressed themselves into a smile with familiar warmth, though it lacked the fierceness of its usual innocence. 

 "Hello, friends," chimed the familiar voice. "Thank you for visiting me." The words hung in the air suspended by unanswered questions. Beastboy took a few steps closer to affirm that the figure he saw before him was real.

"Are you feeling OK?" Robin said.

"I am tired, but I am fine." The tension was still laid thick. "The people here did some Surge-Ray, is it?" They continued to stare at her in confusion, but the truth that lay on the surface could not be ignored. Her words began to break through their questions and a peace settled about them. The titans all heaved a collective sigh.

"Those doctors must have done one heck of a job," Cyborg murmured.

"Which is going to mean one heck of a hospital bill," Beastboy replied. Raven glared at him. "Which is, of course, worth it…" He cracked her a wry smile. A hum of joy passed between the five having been reunited. A pressure had been lifted off of them and they relaxed for the first time for hours.

"Do you feel any pain at all, Star," Robin said. Though peace reigned, Starfire was put ill at ease by his question.

"I feel…" she glanced quickly at Raven, "nothing…no, no pain."

~~~

Time resumed its normal course, and with that, its natural weight. To the four, this event seemed to prove to them all the more that nothing could keep them down, and that they were, like all other teenagers, invincible. Even this great tragedy was unable pull them apart. But to one of them, that night had had quite a different impact. She stood at a cutting board, trying to occupy her thoughts in dicing vegetables. Beastboy had put her to work, noticing that she had been continuing to try and stay busy. All day.

The 'chop, chop' filled the room, mixing with the sounds of boiling water. Behind her stood Beastboy preparing another portion of the meal. Farther in the background sat an impatient Cyborg and a thoughtful, or thoughtless, Raven. Beastboy was lecturing Starfire in the art of preserving the taste of noodles and other mindless facts that carried little penetration into her mind.

"The most important part of cooking them is making sure the temperature of the water is not so hot that it boils off the flavor," he said standing on his soapbox, grinning wildly.

"C'mon, monkey boy," said Cyborg, "Just stick em' in, I'm starving."

"Perhaps his ego slows him down," Raven said, her voice humming with contempt. However, Starfire, in an effort to pay attention, took her gaze off of the knife and vegetables to look at her friend, trying to return his smile.

"Pay no attention to these mortals. Look here. You have to also add them slowly, like this, see, to make sure you keep the…" He voice stopped short as he looked at Starfire in horror. "Careful! You're bleeding!" He yelled, rushing over to the cutting board.

Starfire looked down at her hand that held half of a carrot. Along the top of her fingers were three deep gashes that began to spill blood across the cutting board. She gasped and her hand shot to her mouth as she beheld the gruesome sight. But what Beastboy noticed about this was that her gasp did not seem to burst forth in pain, but in surprise.

"Here," he said, grabbing a paper towel and wrapping up her wounds in attempt to halt the blood's flow. "Are you OK?" She nodded, silent, clutching her hand. There were no tears, no words, just silence. Then suddenly she stormed from the kitchen leaving a bewildered Beastboy starring after her.

"That was weird," Beastboy said turning back to his food, "Man! These vegetables are toast." He glanced over at the other two who just glared back. "What? I didn't do anything."

"Maybe someone should try and talk to her," said Cyborg. After a few seconds, Beastboy and Cyborg both turned their gaze to Raven.

Giving a sigh, she mumbled, "Fine." Rising, she exited the kitchen leaving the other two behind. An awkward silence settled in behind her.

"Uh, Beastboy," Cyborg said pointing towards the stove. The pot was boiling over, its contents beginning to spill across the counter.

"Aw man!"

~~~

"Starfire?" Raven's voice echoed. She walked slowly down the corridor, listening to her padded feet slowly trod along. Rounding a corner, she heard sobs, soft and hidden, coming from Starfire's room. Raven rolled her eyes as she slowly opened the door. The last thing she wanted to be was a shoulder to cry on.

"I am here," Starfire said through her tears. Something in that trembling voice struck Raven. She had seen Starfire cry before, had heard her sobs, but those were innocent and almost ignorant. This was different. She saw in her friend a face that seemed unable to feel joy anymore. An emotion boiled in the pit of Raven's stomach, but she stuffed it back quickly.

Had anyone else felt it, they would have called it pity.

Starfire still held the knife, the blood beginning to dry on the serrated edge. She just sat their, sobbing and starring into it.

"What's…wrong?" Raven said with hesitation.

"I wish I could tell you," Starfire said, eyes not once straying from the knife. "But I don't know." To Raven's horror and surprise, Starfire brought the knife over to her opposite hand, blade down. Without even hesitating for a second, she cut deep into her palm, recoating the blade with blood.

"What are you doing!?" Raven said, reaching for the knife. Starfire didn't stop her, she didn't even move. She just looked unseeing at her bleeding hand.

"Raven…I can't…feel it." She let the blood drip off of her palm and into her lap. "I can't fell…anything. Nothing, not even the cold anymore, Raven." Raven reached over slowly to Starfire and turned over the hand that had been holding the knife. With a gasp, she saw five other lines of dark red etched into the opposite palm.

Starfire looked deep into Raven's eyes.

"Help me…" she squeaked. Leaning over, Starfire embraced Raven, striving for something to hold onto. She longed, just for one last time, to feel the warmth of a simple hug. Even the pain of her bruises and breaks would have been enough. Just not this, not this emptiness. Raven, against her will, tried to hug back, but she did it in vain. Starfire felt nothing.

"I wish I could."

~~~

"Hey Starfire!"

The tears were still wet on her face. She wanted to be alone, to crawl inside herself, but was unfamiliar with refusing the company of another. Robin ran up beside her and placed his hand on her shoulder. She pressed her palms tightly together, hiding the cuts from his gaze. He noticed that the green blaze had begun to fade from her eyes. Replacing it was a glaze that grew thicker with each day.

He wanted to help her, but did not know how. A jubilant Starfire had suddenly become quite complicated.

"Hey…you haven't fought at all since that night, right?" he said smiling awkwardly. Starfire gave a half nod, afraid of what he was going to say next. "What about a little sparing match? Nothing much, just to warm up those hands of yours." The word 'warm' almost made Starfire flinch. "C'mon, it will be fun."

"But I…" she stuttered. Robin grabbed her hand and began to tug her down the hallway.

"Nonsense, it'll be good for you." Before Starfire knew it, she was standing in the vast training room facing her partner who wore a broad grin. She could not fight, she thought, not like this. She hadn't even tried to fly since that night. The truth was she was afraid to.

"Now I want you to take it easy. Just a little target practice. You fire and I'll dodge, you got it?" In the back of his mind he thought that this would be just the grease to loosen her up. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Robin began to back away from Starfire, giving himself ample room to maneuver.

"OK," he said rubbing his hands together, "give me your best shot."

But all Starfire did was stare at her hand. The five gashes blazed their deep red into her mind. They became a barrier that she did not have the strength to cross.

"How can I summon a star bolt," she murmured to herself, "if I feel nothing." Sorrow began to well up in her again. She was letting go.

"Go ahead Starfire, don't hold back." But all she felt was empty. There was no righteous furry, no boundless confidence, no joy, no nothing. She felt hollow.

Her gaze shifted from her hand to Robin's eager face. She felt the bottled emotions inside of her lungs begin to bellow up through her throat and then burst forth from her mouth.

"I can't feel it!" she shrieked, the emotions taking form. Her voice thundered inside of the chamber.

And she ran.

Through the halls, up the stairs, away from them, she ran. A feeling she had not felt before began to creep into the recesses of her mind. It replaced the hopeless sorrow that had dominated. It replaced it with anger.

Her steps thundered down the passageway, but she felt nothing. Her broken bones in her legs creaked and strained with the weight, but she felt nothing. Her fingers pressed hard against the fresh cuts, but she felt nothing. All there was now was anger. She didn't stop to think of who or what she was angry at, she just dwelt on the overpowering emotion. That was all she had to hold on to, and she couldn't let go of it.

Starfire flung the doors open to the roof. It was raining hard, but she didn't care. She didn't even notice. This is not who I am she kept repeating over and over again in her mind. This cannot be who I am Each repetition brought more anger to the surface. It boiled and frothed there, pulsating through her. This anger was not her, but it was all she had.

Her path brought her to the edge of the roof, though suicide was the last thought on her mind. She had never even heard of the concept of taking one's life, and had no urge to jump. But this seemed to be her only logical path. Somehow by standing on the edge she felt control. The raindrops plunked hard against the tile, mixing with the tears that flowed down her face in frustration. They were lifeless to her, covering her body with a coating that only her eyes revealed to be true.

And there she stood.

Her mind had been used to an unspeakable joy, but these emotions threatened to break her in two. Her rage and her sorrow built up deep inside putting pressure behind a damn made of an alien willpower, a damn that she fought hard to hold. But as these emotions threatened to break her very skull, an arrow, some shot fired from within her very consciousness struck her neck. In an instant, every muscle in her body went limp, and her face contorted beneath the inner blow. It plowed into the damn that held her rage and pain cracking a seam right down the center. From this crack poured all the feelings and sensations that someone could only dream to feel in a single lifetime.

And she fell.

It was not her choice. She had no way to fight it. But as her body began to plummet, she felt a strange sensation all across her skin. This beautiful feeling was the rain splattering over her broken limbs, piercing through her emptiness like a thousand needles. In a surge of power, she felt the damaged ribs and the bruises. She felt the shattered legs that were suddenly rendered useless. She felt her hair whipping back and forth as her fall built up speed. She felt the cold, the pain, the wholeness. She felt the Beastboy's talons scrape her back as he struggled against the weight to pull her out of her plummet. She felt her shirt pull against her as fate reversed her fall. In that single moment, the rage poured out of the broken damn and seeped back into the depths of the earth from where it came.

Beastboy slowly lowered Starfire's broken body into the open arms of Cyborg. She found herself surrounded by the four, each face full of worry. Without thinking, Raven again lifted and clasped the hand with the five gashes. But as she felt the cuts, Starfire withdrew her hand in pain. Raven stared at the hand in wonder and met the eyes of Starfire as they slowly opened, full and green, to reassure the others.

"How do you feel?" Robin asked with worry. Starfire looked at the four there around her and smiled, deep and innocent.

"I feel…cold."

~~~

Excerpt from Biology Weekly:

            ...Because of the perplexity of the patient's condition, the doctor withheld a small sample of the spinal tissue for further testing. However, the name of the patient was unable to be legally released.

During an overall analysis, a team of scientists lead by Doctor Shmine made an incredible discovery. The spinal cord sample began reproducing at an incredibly rapid rate and sent a series of jumbled electrical signals throughout the solution it was immersed in. After careful study, the scientists began to wonder if these electrical signals could be the beginnings of sputtering nerve impulses.

            "If those really had been impulses," said Dr. Shmine. "Just think of what discoveries could have come next. Perhaps spinal repair could have been finally be possible." Upon further study, he noticed that the cells had some electrochemical way of attracting the other broken fragments. The proteins and enzymes found on the cell membranes were incredibly unique to that of a spinal cord. Their composition gave them a powerfully magnetic property, able to attract substrates from other cells that were a ridiculous distance away.

            However, the sample later rejected a solution that was used to preserve the culture and the cells were lost overnight. Though they remain dead, Dr. Shmine and his associates continue to speculate on the origin of these foreign cells…