Titans: Chasing Mayhem

Madness

The RV sat parked in a clearing, its interior lights casting a faint glow through the tinted windows. The night was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the RV's engine. The door to the RV creaked open, and Dick stepped out, his boots crunching softly against the gravel. He was hit by a wave of contradiction. On one hand, all the hairs on the back of his neck raised as a dog's might when sensing a predator; on the other, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief.
"Thank"-
"Don't," she said, slipping out of the shadows. As she crept forward, her figure was illuminated by moonlight. Her tophat, singed and torn, was in her hand. She absently traced the new tear along its seam, her lips pressed into a thin line. She wore a sleek navy blue leather trench coat over a white and black lace corset, black ripped skinny jeans, and heeled combat boots. "You could've died tonight. They all would've died."
"I know," Dick sighed. "I don't know what we would've done if you hadn't"-

"What if I didn't," she snapped.
"Well I'm damn well glad you did," he said firmly. "How even-" he cut himself off when he saw her hold up the tophat. It seemed more worn than the last time- mind you it was always looking a little worse for wear from the get-go. "I'm sorry..."
"Don't say that either," she interrupted.
"Anything I can say," Dick asked, a tone of impatience underlying his voice.
"Even with the girl's powers, you're out of your league," she pointed out the obvious.
"Should I bother wasting my breath asking for your help then," he asked with an air of attitude and a slight tinge of vulnerability.
"No... but you will anyways," she replied, her crimson lips curving into the slightest of smirks.
"We need your help. You said it yourself, we almost died out there," he argued.
"You know I don't do that anymore"-
"Then help me help my team," he snapped. "Please. How do we survive this?"
"Sometimes not everyone is meant to," she said after a pause.
"Why the hell is there always a cost with magic," he sighed in exasperation.
"Cosmic balance and all that," she shrugged.
"They need to survive Zee, please. I need your help," he asked quietly.
The two had a stiff pause; the tension could be cut with a knife. "A day, maybe forty-eight hours at most. I can try and lead her off your trail, buy you some time"-
"Time for what," he asked.
"You're the detective, remember?"
"Fine," he sighed. "And for what it's worth, I am sorry. For everything,"  he added with trepidation, giving her another once-over, and his gaze fell to the black choker around her neck. "Be careful."
"I always was careful. You weren't," she reminded with a smirk before disappearing into the shadows.

"You aren't planning on running off again, are you Grayson," Kori said in a slightly teasing voice as she walked up to him from the RV. "Or trying to sacrifice yourself for the greater good?"
"No, I'm staying," Dick said after a pause, scanning the dark clearing in front of him, before turning to look back at her.
"Good, because we need you," Kori said firmly. "They're all pretty shaken up in there. I mean, Gar took a hit, Connor's pissed- Rachel's blonde."
"How are you," He asked her, looking her over. "You took a hit too."
"I can shake it off. What about you, Grayson? You look like you've seen a ghost." Kori frowned.
Dick sighed, running his hand over his face, "I think I did."

"I got a hit," Tim announced later the next day. "The past snake attack victims, they all have a specific mutation. So does this guy- Sebastian Sanger. And get this, he just got arrested for murder. He's at the MPD station now."
Dick turned to look at the information pulled up on the holo-screen.
"Dick, I can do this, I can get her," Connor said, his obsession with defeating the witch almost concerning.
"No, we need to play this smart," Rachel shook her head.
"Rachel's right, Connor. She wiped out all of us like nothing, we can't attack her directly," Kori frowned.
"We need to do something," Gar argued.
"Connor, Gar, go to the MPD station. Only get Sebastian. We don't need another confrontation while we're kicked down," Dick nodded.
"What about the rest of us," Rachel asked. "I mean I know I'm a blonde now, but," she tried to make light of the situation.
"I need to check up on something. The rest of you, hold down the fort," Dick nodded at the team.

The dimly lit bar was thick with the smell of smoke and the hum of muted conversations. She pushed open the heavy oak door, her boots clicking against the worn wooden floor as she stepped inside. The room fell quiet for a moment as heads turned her way, eyes narrowing at her infamously before turning back to their drinks. She ignored the stares, her focus fixed on the figure behind the bar: Papa Midnite, clad in his signature tailored suit and wide-brimmed hat, exuding his usual air of dangerous charm. She strode up to the bar, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her black leather jacket. She knew what kind of game she was playing, but there was no choice. She needed help.
"Midnite," she said, her voice low but firm.
The man barely glanced up from the drink he was pouring. "Zatara," he said smoothly, his deep voice laced with indifference. "Long way from the stage, aren't we? Thought you didn't crawl into holes like this anymore."
"I'm not here to trade insults," she shot back, leaning on the counter. "I need something."
Midnite chuckled darkly, setting the glass down in front of a patron before finally turning his full attention to her. "And what makes you think I have what you're looking for?"
"Because you always do." Zatanna locked eyes with him, her tone steely. "I need the Ruby of Sargon. Word is, it's whereabouts passed through here a few weeks ago."
Midnite's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. He leaned closer, resting his elbows on the bar. "That's some heavy magic you're after. What's got you crawling back into the muck for something like that?"
"It's not your business," Zatanna replied sharply.
"Everything's my business, sweetheart," he said with a smirk. "But let's say I did have it. What makes you think I'd just hand it over to you? This ain't a charity."
Zatanna straightened, her jaw tightening. "Whatever the price is, I'll meet it."
Midnite laughed—a deep, cruel sound that made Zatanna's stomach twist. "You don't get it, do you? Even if it's you, little witch, I wouldn't. Not with what's happening out there."
"Midnite," she said, a rare note of desperation slipping into her voice. "This isn't just about me. It's about something bigger—someone dangerous. If you don't help me, not even you will be safe."

Midnite's smirk faded, his face growing colder. "You should've thought about that the last time you and your little boyfriend screwed me over."
"Constantine is not my boyfriend," she growled low, any pleasantries or civility disposed of. "And I was only asking out of decency."
"I will say, you talk pretty. Like your papa," Midnite chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "But even you, Princess, aren't completely untouchable."
"Want to test that theory, Midnite," she challenged, her hands gripping the edge of the table.
He opened his mouth to respond, but then froze. His body jerked, his hands clutching the edge of the bar as a wet, choking sound escaped his throat.
"Midnite?" She said, stepping back in alarm. His eyes bulged as blood began to spill from his lips, staining the pristine white collar of his shirt. A horrible, guttural sound tore from his throat as a writhing, black snake emerged, its scales glistening with gore. The snake slithered out of his mouth, hissing violently as Midnite collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

The bar erupted into chaos as patrons scrambled for the exit, knocking over chairs and tables in their haste. She was frozen, her eyes wide as the snake turned its head toward her, its unblinking eyes glowing with a sickly red light.
"Oh, hell," she muttered. The snake struck, lunging at her with terrifying speed. She barely managed to twist away. Her eyes darted to the counter, where a gleaming dagger lay—Midnite's, likely used for some ritual. Without thinking, she grabbed it, the blade cold in her fingers. The snake hissed again, coiling to strike, but she didn't wait. She lunged forward and drove the dagger into its open mouth, the blade piercing straight through to the back of its head. The creature convulsed violently, biting down on her hand as it thrashed. Black ichor oozed from the serpent's wound as it thrashed and then fell limp. Panting, she dropped the snake's lifeless body and stumbled back, wrenching her injured hand free from it's fang. Blood dripped from the bite wound, and black tendrils spread out like spiderwebs as the pain radiated through her hand and up her arm. She looked down at Midnite's body, her chest tightening. He had been her last hope, and now he was gone. Worse, whatever dark force had killed him was still out there, and she had no magic to stop it. She knelt and took the dark green handkerchief from Midnite's pocket square, before wrapping it tightly around her magic-infected hand.

Dick wasn't quite sure where he was going, he just had a feeling. He drove slowly through the streets, letting his intuition guide him- nothing else worked when it came to *her*. Or maybe it was just that she had a habit of getting into trouble, and he was always chasing it. He stopped at a bar, where patrons were running out. He got out of his Porsche to investigate, when she came out.
"Shit," Dick muttered as he ran around the car to go to her.
"Dick," she muttered, her eyes fluttering as she passed out. He just managed to get to her in time for him to catch her, her collapsing in his arms.
"Fuck, Zee," he growled, brushing some loose hair out out of her face.