Teen Titans #47: "The Time the Shouldn't" Pt. 2

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
-Robert Frost

“There are many reasons why novelists write, but they all have one thing in common - a need to create an alternative world.” John Fowles



Carrie Levine did not show fear. She relaxed, and her wings did not stop her fall.

She tumbled back....and the fireball passed harmlessly through the place where she had been.

Then her wings caught the air and flapped, and she turned over to float upright.

Another fireball passed by inches below her feet, to strike their submersible burn it's finish. From her utility belt she drew three egg-shaped explosives and hurled them at Incendiary.

With a sweeping gesture, Incendiary used her pyrokinetic powers to detonate all three before they could reach her.

As Carrie had expected.

Behind Incendiary, her soldiers on their floating pods had leveled their tridents at Carrie, ready to back up their Commander if necessary.

Nobody had noticed that Joseph had disappeared.

Nobody that is, until Incendiary felt a grabbing hand on her foot. Looking down, she saw nothing...then an invisible punch caught her right in the face.

Joseph hated fisticuffs, but he was trained in them well enough. He also hated hitting a woman, but Incendiary was no lady. He had jumped up and grabbed her foot, and quick as he could while her surprise lasted, he stood upon her own booted feet. Baffled and struggling with an invisible enemy, she did not yet use her power.

His next blow caught her in her well-toned abdomen, and she gasped.

Her soldiers didn't dare fire, for fear of hitting her.

And all but one of them had completely forgotten about Carrie.

That one was aiming as she came up from beneath him, swooping gracefully on her wings. He fired, but she banked to the left easily, came up, and struck..not at him, but at his pod.

It rocked sideways and the soldier fell, screaming, into the sea.

Now the other guards turned and fired on her. She twisted and spun in the air, folding her wings to a side, and dropped like a stone; their energy beams missed her by inches.

Incendiary, meanwhile, had had enough of this. One sweeping gesture with her hands, and the air around her erupted in fire.

Joseph returned to visibility, falling out of the sky and onto the submersible, burning.

Carrie's heart quailed at the sight, but she did not rush to aid him. She knew her duty and her training; if she tried to save him now, they would both die.

So instead she threw herself at Incendiary, an egg-splosive in each hand.

Incendiary saw and grinned, twitching her fingers, meaning to cause the egg-splosives to go off in Carrie's hands.

Which Carrie had, of course anticipated, and she threw them before Incendiary could ignite them.

Almost bored, Incendiary waved a hand and they detonated before they reached her, their explosive power turned into a wall of flame before her by her own gifts. She knew that Carrie could not fly through without burning her wings, ever-sensitive as they were to pain. Her soldiers would finish the girl off and then she would take Joseph back to their--

A knife came spinning through the flame and embedded itself in Incendiary's shoulder. She screamed in pain and fury, and for a moment her flames dissipated.

Carrie came through the boiling hot air and collided with Incendiary, lashing out with her palm and forcing the blade further into her shoulder.

"That's a new trick," Incendiary said through gritted teeth.

"It's called learning," Carrie replied. "Try it some time."

"What's to stop me from frying you now?"

Carrie smiled. "The fact that you're not totally invulnerable to your own power, perhaps?"

Incendiary smiled back, then screamed, "Shoot her!!"

The soldiers of the Allegiance didn't hesitate. They opened fire, as Carrie had known they would. She folded her wings and dropped like a stone.

Three energy beams struck Incendiary. One ripped over the top of her left shoulder, one went through her right arm, and one burned along the left side of her face. She screamed and fell, and two of her own aghast guards went to catch her.

At that point, the sky darkened.

Carrie and the remaining Allegiance soldiers looked up.

Professor Wilson's high speed personal Zeppelin had arrived.

"Take your Mistress and go," the Professor's voice resonated in the air, amplified and echoing.

The Allegiance soldiers didn't bother to fire on the Zeppelin. They knew that it was no dawn of the 20th century gasbag, but protected by energy shields and diffraction layers.

They fished Incendiary and their own half-drowned fellow from the waters as Carrie picked up Joseph.

"Bring Joseph up to me," the Professor's voice said, "Then pilot the submersible back to our compound."



Joseph was already healing, slowly but steadily, from his wounds. Healing was his other innate power, besides invulnerability. It was no accident that he had been the first one to close with Incendiary.

Carrie had hung back as Professor Wilson watched his favored son on the medical couch, expecting a reprimand for the disastrous state Joseph was in and the fact that they needed rescuing. She was mildly surprised when he simply asked her, "Miss Levine, can you bring up the crystal you found, please? Our 'guests' from Checkmate are getting quite....impatient."

"You're not angry?" she asked in mild amazement.

"If it were anyone but Joseph I might be, but his healing powers compensate for much. As it was, he warned us of your situation, and the two of you did a fine job of delaying them until we got there to stop the fracas. Now, please, do as I asked you to and bring the crystal up."

Asked, not told. That was as kind as the Professor was to anyone not his own children. Carrie bowed and rushed to obey.



Miss Clay joined the others without the Professor having to instruct her to do so. The psychic walked over to where Grant was cradling his younger brother in his arms. The last of the burns were fading even as they watched.

"He will recover, you know this," Lillith Clay said.

"That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt him," Grant said back, more sad than angry.

Lillith nodded. "I know. I feel the trauma in his mind. It is an old, familiar pain for him."

"I....I'll....fetch one of his spare costumes," Grant said and stomped away.

Lillith smiled sadly at his departing back. She, more than any, knew how protective Grant was of his younger brother. Not even the Professor truly understood the bond between his sons. Of course, her own powers had more than a little something to do with that.

But she also felt the Professor's concern about both Checkmate's involvement, and the crystal itself. The conflict with Incendiary and the Allegiance was small potatoes compared to this.



Checkmate Agents Kane and Forrester stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting patiently as Wilson's younger son came down the stairs from the medical chambers. He was mostly healed; only slight pinkish marks indicated where he had been burned, and even these were now fading.

"Wish we could've helped you against the Allegiance," said Agent Forrester,and he meant it, too.

"I'm sure such opportunities will present themselves again," Professor Wilson said. "The Allegiance is always trying to conquer the world and force us all to wield atomic power. Incendiary is but one of their agents, as you know."

"The Mad Modernist, The Doctor of Light, and others," Agent Kane agreed. "But now is not the time. I only hope the delay in allowing your son to heal himself has not brought this.....metaversal crisis to a head."

"If it had, we would not be here now, I think," Wilson answered. "But nevertheless, you are correct that we should pay attention to the matter at hand. Miss Levine has already placed the crystal in the analysis cradle." She had, in fact, brought up the entire radiation container, something no normal human would have been strong enough to do.

Professor Wilson activated his instruments and studied the sullen yellow glowing crystalline structure shaped so much like a precious gem.

"The readings are..." he began, and then was brought up short. All of them saw it this time; more visions, as Joseph and Carrie had seen in the submersible.

A tall man of African heritage, with cybernetic parts; beside him, a young man with green skin. They pair stared out at them from the glowing light of the crystal, mouthing silent pleas which none of them could hear.

Then they were gone.

"Did you...did you all see that?" the Professor whispered.

"Yes," Agent Kane whispered.

"Not the same people we saw from the submersible," said Carrie, "But the same principle."

"Fascinating....and disturbing. The readings, as I as trying to say before, are off the scale. Clearly, this is indeed the heart of the discontinuity. I shall study it in detail, and as soon as I discover it's nature I will inform you, and you are more than welcome to take that information back to Checkmate, the President, and whomever else it is you inform of your activities."

"Good," Forrester said. "This whole business is making me antsy."

"While I find your colloquialisms tiresome," the Professor sighed, "I nonetheless agree with the sentiment. Now, let me see....oh excellent, I can plot the timeline of the discontinuity!"

"You can do what now?" Kane frowned.

"I can determine when it came into being, and from that I can almost certainly determine how to neutralize it." He busied himself at his instruments and computers, nodding thoughtfully to himself. "Great Scott...it extends all the way back to the 19th century! It has been slowly building since that time, but none have noticed.....this is partly because...because it was created much more recently, and reached backwards and forwards into time, changing the path of all history....oh....oh no...."

Lillith could feel his fear and horrified realization, but she did not understand it. She and Carrie rushed to his side, staring at his pale face. "Professor, what is it?" she asked.

"The....the discontinuity....is us. Our timeline, our history.....our existence itself is the disruption. This crystal being the focus and manifestation thereof. Our entire world....since....since sometime in the late 19th century....is bastardization, an alteration of the true history of our thread of the multiverse."

There was a long silence.

"How is that even possible?" asked Carrie, aghast.

"Something.....something must have happened in the original timeline to inadvertently create ours.....this....this gemlike crystal is a physical manifestation of that discontinuity, whatever it was."

"And the visions we've seen?" Joseph asked, speaking for the first time since he began to heal himself.

"Uncertain, but I theorize that they are people who were at or near the epicenter of the disruption of the timeline when it occurred in....in the true reality."

"Metaphysics may not be my strong suit, Professor," Agent Kane said, "But surely, if our history has...overwritten theirs, because of something they did, doesn't that make our own reality more viable?"

"Certainly I would not wish to throw away all our lives and our reality itself, you may rest assured of that," Wilson said. "But this is but one thread of the multiverse, and there are many alternate realities. I find it hard to believe that there isn't room for one more. The fact that these two realities are trying to exist in the same thread of the multiverse is the source of our troubles. Give me a little more time to study the crystal, and I am fairly certain I can find a way to enable our reality to split off from the original, preserving both. Further, I am curious as to the nature of the timeline we have altered--"

"Oh no you don't!" Forrester snapped. "Checkmate will not allow you to risk our reality for another that has failed!"

"Control your dog, Kane," Wilson said wearily.

"I'm sorry Professor Wilson," Kane said, "But as much of an uncouth jerk as Forrester might be, he's right. We cannot allow you to risk the safety of our reality to restore another that destroyed itself. And besides, while you were 'studying' it, our own existence might be destroyed by this crystal and its waves of chaotic blight. In the name of the United States Government, hand over the crystal, now." Both Checkmate agents drew their plasma rifles.

Professor Wilson stared at them in stunned amazement. Before he could rally his children and students to his aid, they moved on their own.

Lillith unleashed waves of psychic pain at the two government thugs. Grant once again pounced on Forrester, knocking his rifle away, and the two began to brawl.

An invisible kick from Joseph knocked Kane's rifle away, and she hissed in anger, swinging blindly for a foe she could not see.

Professor Wilson drew his own weapon, taking careful aim at the Checkmate agents.

All but Carrie. She moved to the crystal, and slowly she removed it, holding it in her own bare hands.

As the Wilson’s and Lillith battled the Checkmate agents, Carrie stared into the glowing golden gem that was the focus of their troubles.

"What are you doing, Miss Levine?!?" The Professor shouted, blasting away with his personal xenon pistol. "We need you!"

"Make it right," Carrie whispered into the crystal. "Please, make it right. I don't know which world is the true one, which one should be, but please, make it right."

For a moment nothing happened, and she began to fear. The Professor was shouting for Joseph to stop her.

Then a brilliant whiteness erupted from the gem. Carrie was lost in it. Then the others. Then the room. The Wilson Laboratory and Family Compound. The city of Manhattan. The world. The universe....

....one strand of the multiverse unkinked the snarl in its thread and returned to normal....save for one small thing.....



Carrie blinked.

She was kneeling on the floor of a cold metal room. She was kneeling beneath a round metal arch; a heavy gray ball somehow floated above her head.

Before her, scientists and the costumed mystery men stood. Just before her was a man about her own age, in a red and yellow costume not totally unlike that of the man who had helped to fight the Mad Butcher of Saxony during the Great War, with speed powers.

Amongst the others behind him was a woman who was recognizably Incendiary, but whose costume was black as the night with stars glittering within, who bore no insignia of the Allegiance.

There was no gem in Carrie's hands anymore.

And she understood. This world was the true world, and she had destroyed her own.

Some of the costumed heroes stood ready for an attack, but she only broke down and wept.



The Titans and STAR Labs took three days to debrief her.

"There's no reason to doubt her story," the fat scientist was saying. "Indeed, our readings from the gateway confirm it. Our continuity was totally altered, and replaced with hers."

"Why did she survive?" Dagon asked. "Not that I'm against her or anything, you understand."

"Because I was the one that changed it back," Carrie said sadly. "I held the crystal--which your scientists call the discontinuity focus--in my hands and told it to make things right."

"I strongly suggest you shut that gate down," Cyborg said. "We'd had enough multidimensional trouble, even before this."

"I've gotta back him up on that one." Nightwing was stern. "Too risky."

"We had already come to that conclusion," the fat scientist was nodding.

Carrie wasn't really listening anymore. She hung her head and waited for them to decide what to do with her.



The Titans asked Carrie to come back to the Tower with them. She pored over the history texts in the library and the computer, learning the differences between her timeline and the 'real' one.

In this world, the Allegiance had never properly existed, but it's technology had won the day. What she knew as the Great War was the second of it's kind; the Mad Butcher of Saxony had been replaced by a dictator no less heinous. He had been allied with a Japanese Empire that had continued to fight on after his defeat. The atomic weaponry the Allegiance favored had been used to end the conflict with the Japanese, with no Allegiance behind it....because none was necessary.

The steam-powered technology she knew and loved had never properly existed. A zeppelin called the Hindenburg had gone down in flames, but even before that steam was not looked on as favorably here as in....her home. Her home that no longer existed.

Sometime in the 1880s or 1890s, she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment or even year.....everything had changed. The Wilson’s had become soldiers and mercenaries instead of scientists. The man she had so admired was, in this world, Slade Wilson. Deathstroke the Terminator. A metahuman mercenary with a personal vendetta against these....Titans.

Donna Troy was one of these Titans. She had never been called Incendiary, or had fire based powers, but instead had washed up on the shores of Amazonia, which they called Themyscria here. She had learned at the feet of their champion....

Her eyes blurred with tears. This world was so cold and strange....and its scientists had, inadvertently, created her world whilst trying to breach a portal into the multiverse. She didn't know the metaphysics of it. Professor Wilson or Joseph would have known, but in this world they....

She couldn't think about it anymore. She turned away from the computer.

The vampire and the earth elementalist were watching her. The elementalist's face was vaguely familiar to her....had there been an Agent Markov amongst Checkmate in her own world? She thought so, but was unsure.

Of course, she wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"How you holdin' up?" the elementalist--Terra, she called herself--asked.

Carrie shrugged unhappily. "As well as can be expected." She blew out a sad sigh.

The vampire--his name was Dagon--shuffled his feet “We were kinda worried you were gonna..."

"Kill myself?" Carrie asked. "I thought about it. But...what would be the point? I only tried to set things right. Professor Wilson and the others....they would not have had me end my life. They would have me move on. Continue to spread knowledge and justice. Even though..." she hung her head. "Even if it is not my world."

She sagged forward, and Terra caught her awkwardly. She shared an uncertain look with Dagon.

"She's lost everything she knew," the vampire said. "I didn't lose a whole world, but I know what it's like to lose your whole way of life."

Terra didn't know what to say.



Nightwing, Cyborg and Troia stood, watching Terra and Dagon awkwardly console Carrie.

"I don't think we even need to put it to a vote, really." Troia said. "We can't turn her away."

"And if we did," Cyborg added, "Where would she go?"

"I'm sure you're both right," Nightwing agreed. "I think we can guess what Terra and Dagon's votes would be. And I can't see anyone voting against her."

"In her world I was a villain," Troia mused. "I shudder to think, who I could have been..."

"That's true of any of us," Nightwing pointed out. "Deathstroke was a wise old scientist in her world.....anyway; we'll formally invite her tomorrow."

"If there isn't any other business," Troia said, walking away, "Before all this started, I promised Beast Boy a new costume."



A somewhat cool, blustery day.

Carrie Levine stood atop the Titans' Tower. They had accepted her, even Troy, who seemed quite saddened to learn of her villainous counterpart.

They were willing take her in; let her be one of them. It made sense; it would be difficult, otherwise, to register her citizenship in this world. Their leader, the vigilante, assured her he had the relevant connections to do that. The atomic power the Allegiance had so lusted after was a fact of life here, and that concerned her, but there was still justice, still a code of law. There were still good and evil, right and wrong, battles to fight. The Allegiance might not exist here, but there were others. The HIVE. The Brotherhood of Evil. Various and sundry costumed villains. On and on and on.

There was no shortage of work to do.

One thing had brought her up short; in this world, code names were mandatory for heroes. Even she, who had no proper identity in this realm, had to have one.

So it was that the vigilante--Nightwing--and the alien--Starfire--who stood on either side of her as she stood on the roof that day, staring out at the city of New York (rather than Manhattan, which was a mere borough in this greater city in this strange place).

"Have you chosen a name for yourself?" Nightwing asked her.

"Scarlet Wing," she answered. "Does it suit?"

"Suits very well," he agreed.

"You have the capabilities of a great warrior," Starfire said. "Use them well."

"I shall," Scarlet Wing promised. "That is my solemn oath."

She launched herself from the rooftop, wings spread, and Starfire flew beside her, over the city.