Chapter 2

When I saw Richard the next morning, he was wearing the same Batman bandage that I had placed on his forehead yesterday evening. I could only imagine the look on Ryan's face if I were to tell him that Richard is still wearing the bandage. Richard's sunglasses are still present on his face. He was leaning against the set of lockers parallel to my own. True to his word, we did not engage in any form of conversation. As soon as he caught sight of me staring in his direction, he quickly rotated his body to the nearest locker and started to enter in his combination on the lock. He deposits his backpack into the locker and pulls out a notebook, most likely for an English class. He also grabs a smaller black notebook with a bright circle stamped on the cover, and stuffs it into his black leather jacket pocket. He discretely looks around to see if anyone saw him. Before his eyes can land on me, I spin back to my open locker and try to appear casual as I take out my binder for today's classes. I also stack a small purple notebook, which I purchased earlier this morning, to record all of the unusual events that have been occurring, and I top my small stack of supplies with a popular fiction novel that I hear is worth reading.

My first class of the day is physical education. Our teacher gave us free reign in the media center to do research for our fourth drug awareness project. It was assigned a month ago, with a due date of this Friday, which is tomorrow. I completed the project weeks ago. While other kids are scrambling to in a futile attempt to finish the project, I was given free time. I shall use my free time to make the first entry into my journal. Since this is a rather private journal, I will write in my mother tongue of Tamaranean. This shall be shown to no one.

In my journal, I convey the situation with Richard, which was interrupted by Xavier's threat, and I make sure to describe the both of them, for later references. I also make a note of the conversation that I had with Galfore. Just as I am finishing the last sentence of my entry, I hear my name being shouted. I immediately slam my notebook closed and slide my pencil into a small holder on the side of my notebook. I decide that I will reinforce my notebook with additional security measures when I am at the house. I stand up, grab my notebook, and start to walk in the direction that name was shouted in. Of course, it was the teacher, or coach, as he preferred us to refer to him as. Honestly, there is something about him that does not seem right to me.

"Anders, you finished with that project?" I nod. I stare at him and I briefly see his eyes flicker down to the notebook in my hand. He gives a crooked smile. "Perfect. I need you to run this book to Dick Grayson. He left it in my class yesterday. I have him next period, but I think that he'll need it in English. When you get there, tell him next time, I won't be so kind, and give him this."

He hands me Richard's book and a small piece of paper with the same insignia that I saw stamped on Richard's notebook. I make a mental note to write an entry about this interaction with my physical education teacher, and Richard earlier today. I look back up for further instruction. I wish to keep this interaction as short as possible.

"Yes, sir. To what room do I deliver these? I also need a pass." He rips off a slip from the pass booklet that all teachers are given and fills it out.

"Very well, here." He hands me a pass. "Room 116, and make it quick." I nod and rush out of the media center. As soon as I see that I am out of sight from my teacher, I run into the closest female bathroom. The bathroom is empty. I walk to the last stall adjacent to the corner of where the walls meet. I lock the door and kick the toilet cover down. I take a seat on top of it. The first item that I take out to study is the bright symbol. Upon further inspection, I can tell that it is a photograph from what appears to be Richard's notebook. It has a black circle pressed on the cover. On top of circle, a yellow "R" is layer over the dark background. I take out the black cellular smart telephone that Galfore had given me and I take a photograph of the picture. Still holding the phone, I go to look at the book. I try to lift open the cover, but it seems to be stuck. I lay the spine on my lap, and I inspect the pages, or what would be the pages. I discover that this is not a book at all, but a case for something. It looks close enough to a book to be disguise for a case. What is in it? How does it open?

It does not open from the cover, and you cannot open it in the middle. What if I can take the cover off? I lay the book flat on my lap and search the cover for any discrepancies. I do not see any on the cover, so I turn the book over on my lap. This time, I inspect the back for any discrepancies. There is a small panel at the very top of the back. I push down, and I slide the panel upwards. I find a keyhole. There does not appear to be any sign of a key in this contraption. I take a few photographs of the storage device, and I slide my phone back into my pocket. I pull out my notebook from between my lap and the book and I write down my discoveries. I make sure to include the actions and words of my teacher. I gather up the hallway pass, photograph, book, and my notebook, unlock the stall door, and attempt to discretely exit the bathroom toward Richard's classroom.

I keep a steady pace going down the hallways, forcing myself not to look behind me to see if I was being followed. Instead, I listen for the sound of footsteps. I do not hear any. Once I reach the room, I give the thick wooden door three hard knocks. I take a step back and wait for some form of acknowledgement. The English literature teacher is the one to open up the door. I am in his class next period.

"Hey, Kory, come on in! We were just taking about your favorite book. Would you mind giving a small preview of what's to come?" I give him a small nod. When I first arrived here, and I was starting to learn English from Galfore, I read to improve my understanding of the language. As a result, I tend to speak the way the books were written. Galfore referred to the books as classics. My favorite book in his selection is the very first one that I picked up. I could not read it at the time, but that only encouraged me to learn so that I could lose myself in the pages.

Robinson Crusoe, a name for a title. Such a simple thing to write, but can you really fit an entire journey on just a small collection of pages? I would gladly encourage the read of a book so great.

Public speaking does not scare me. I have been though much worse in my lifetime. I start to compose a small speech in my head as I walk up to the front of the classroom. I take the first few seconds to study the students. I study Richard in particular. They look as though I have already bored them by walking. Richard does not have his sunglasses on, odd. I cannot see the color of his eyes, but I can tell that they are not dark, they are a brighter shade of the spectrum, and he looks…stressed? I move my gaze from Richard to look at Mister Allen, but my sight is invaded by a familiar figure. Of course Xavier is also in this class, but he has a large purple bruise on his cheekbone. I tare my eyes away from his face to look back up to Mister Allen, waiting for conformation to start, but he shakes his head and holds up one finger as if saying to wait.

"Class, I would like to introduce one of my brightest students, Kory Anders. Kory, here, has read Robinson Crusoe before and is just going to give you a little preview of what you're all in for. Kory," I give a slight bob of my head in acknowledgement, "you can begin whenever you're ready." I immediately begin to talk. I attempt to convey to them what it is like to be stranded on an island, without any connections to the outside world, and how hard it truly is to survive. Even though I feel discomfort at both Xavier and Richard watching me intently, I force my face to remain neutral.

"You will never know what it is like in that moment when you know you are lost to the world, unless you are subjected to the same pain," I finish. I take a deep breath and push down the memories fighting their way back into my mind. My fingers on my free left hand twitch and I clench my fist as hard as I possibly can. I alive the pressure of my fingers once I feel the familiar sting of a foreign body making its way through the confines of my skin. I cradle my cut in my fingers to catch the dripping blood. I start to make my way to Mister Allen without a second glance to the students that seem to be in deep thought.

"That was great Kory! Where did you learn to speak like that?" I cannot tell him that I learned by standing up to my captors, so I settle for a less depressing answer.

"My father is a business man. He often has to give speeches, and as the only other human in the house older than six, I help him prepare his speeches." I suppose that Galfore is, in a way, my adoptive father, and he is a business man that I help write speeches for.

"Well, I have to meet your dad now. I need to learn his secrets on teaching kids how to speak. Anyway, I've taken up enough of you time. What did you need?"

"I need to speak with Richard Grayson. Mister Wilson instructed me to deliver some of his things that he left in physical education yesterday. May I relay Mister Wilson's message to Richard, and return his things?" His blonde hair catches the light and momentarily blinds me, while his light blue eyes light up, and his face breaks into a smile.

"I will never get tired of a student speaking with proper grammar. Of course, I'll just call Dick out to the hallway and you can have your way with him." He winks and goes inside to retrieve Richard. What does he mean have my way with Richard? Have my way? I shake my head as Richard approaches. He closes the door and steps outside to speak with me. Just as he begins to open his mouth, I throw the book and papers into my left arm, being careful not to get any blood on them, and I grab Richard's wrist and drag him to the nearest teacher's restroom. I do not hear any signs of protest from him, which is strange.

Once we are inside that bathroom, I flip the lights on and lock the door. I set the book and the papers on the counter, and I turn the faucet on so that I can run my hand under cold water. I stare at the water as it turns a light shade of red. I twist the handle to an off position, and I pat my hand dry with a paper towel. I turn to address Richard. I lift my chin up to meet his royal blue orbs. Neither of us blink for what feels like minutes.

"So Kory Anders, care to tell me why you hid me in a teacher's bathroom?"

"Do not think so highly of yourself Richard Grayson." I was about to continue, but Richard seizes the silence in between my sentences to speak.

"Why do you do that?" he questions.

"Why do I do what?" I ask, confused at the vague meaning of his words.

"Why do you call me Richard? Everyone else calls me Dick."

"I do not use nicknames because I am not accustom to their uses. If everyone is to use a nickname, then what is the point of a real name? Besides, you never specifically instructed me to refer to you as Dick. If the name, Richard, bothers you, then I will begin referring to you as Dick, if that is what you wish?" He looks down and processes the information that I have just passed onto him.

"No one's called me Richard for years, at least, not on purpose. I miss hearing my name out loud. Could you maybe keep calling me that? It sounds normal coming from you." He speaks so softly that I have to strain my trained ears to hear him. His eyes are trained on the mirror behind me. Once I start to speak, I also bring my voice to a low whisper, as if we were telling each other our darkest secrets, to address his request.

"Of course, Richard." His gaze flickers over to meet mine, and in return, I give him the brightest I can possible wear. "You're still wearing the Batman bandage that Ryan had me put on you."

"Well, I couldn't disappoint Ryan, now, could I?" He sends me a small wink, and I know that our conversation has returned back to its light teasing manor.

"No, I suppose not. I will be sure to tell Ryan when I get home."

"Anyway, you dragged me in here for a reason, right?" I remember the photograph and the book on the counter. The smile immediately drops off of my face. I turn and grab the pair and I face Richard. Have I been caught in the crossfire of an argument between Richard and Mister Wilson?

"Mister Wilson instructed me to deliver this back to you," I hand him the book, "and to give you this photograph." I hand him the photograph. "He also said that next time he will not be so kind." His face becomes visibly whiter as I hand him the photograph, but his expression does not change.

"Um, thanks, I guess." He keeps his eyes trained on the photograph. "Kory, can I trust you with something?"

"Yes, but why?" Is Slade Wilson not the teacher we all believed him to be?

"Our gym teacher, Slade Wilson, he's not a good man. Now, I don't have anything to prove this yet, but I will." I was right, but now nothing adds up. I know why I did not feel comfortable around Mister Wilson, but if Richard is following Mister Wilson, why did he really follow me home? Why does he have that strange book?

"Who are you really, Richard? Why did Mister Wilson have a picture of the notebook in your pocket? Why do you have a book that is locked?" I take a second to go over a mental list of anything has appeared unusual in the days that I have known Richard. "Why did you follow me home? I walked home. That means that I took a half hour to get home. I know for a fact that you came to my house in a car. I would have noticed a car following behind me. That must mean…you already know where I live! I will give you this one last chance to explain yourself before I take action against you." I drop down in a defensive fighting stance, preparing for Richard to take action.

"Hey, slow down Kory. I can't tell you anything now, but I'll ask my boss if I can say anything. All I can say is if Galfore can trust me, you can, too." He knows who Galfore is! He must be working under Galfore's associate.

"Until I get the truth, out of you, Galfore, or your boss, I will not give you my trust. That must be earned."

"Fair enough. Give me your phone number. We still can't be seen together. Everything will blow up if we are caught together."

"We still cannot be seen together? Fine, if that is what you wish, I will respect you requests, but I will not give you my cellular phone number," I spit out. "After all, you already know where I live. Good day, Richard." With my final remark, I grab my notebook, slip the small spiral diary into my jacket pocket, unlock the door, and make my way back to the media center as quickly as possible, without being caught for running in the hallways. If Richard wishes to wage a war, then a war he shall have.

After I return from my thirty minute absence, Mister Wilson is not the least bit concerned. When I tell him that Mister Allen wished for me to give the class a small speech, he simply gives me a twisted smile, and laughs. I remind myself to be more cautious around Mister Wilson.

I still have another fifteen minutes before class is over. I decide that I will make another entry in my journal about what happened between Richard and me in the bathroom. At the bottom of the entry, I make a note about speaking to Galfore and creating a form of protection for my notebook. By the time I finish making my entries, the bell is about to ring. I insert my notebook into my binder and I put it into my backpack. When the bell rings, I wait for all of the other kids to leave before I make my way to Mister Allen's classroom.

Like Richard's class, we are going to be reading Robinson Crusoe. I barely pay attention to what Mister Allen is saying, and instead, I keep running through the possibilities of who Richard is. My phone starts to buzz. I believe that signals a text has arrived. Galfore is the only one who has my number, therefore it must be him, unless someone has the wrong number or there are people following me. I slide my phone out of my pocket, making sure that Mister Allen does not see it.

"Kory, don't freak out. It's Richard. Asking you for your number was just a courtesy. I already have your file, from my boss. I talked to him, and he said that he, Galfore, you, my…friend, and I are going to have a meeting after school today. Just letting you know. Put me in your contacts. Richard Grayson: (735) 555-0186," the message reads.

I take my notebook out from under my arm and I copy down the text message from Richard in it. Directly underneath it, I write down his contact information. I also enter it in my phone so that I will know if Richard sends me another message. I do not reply, although, I do send a text to Galfore asking him for conformation of the meeting. I do not hear back from him.

The next period, I try to relax my tense mind by filling it with the Latin teachings of Mister Curry. Richard is in this class, and he keeps looking over to me as if questioning why I did not reply to his message, which had long been deleted. I tried not to imagine the possibilities of his boss or his friend. All I know that is when I am at home, I am going straight my room, arming myself with my weapons, and above all, protecting Ryan.

"Is there something bothering you Mister Grayson?" My head snaps in Richard's direction. "All of your other teachers, especially your math teacher, have told me that you have been slacking off lately. If anything, Mister Grayson, I'd prefer that you paid attention in mine."

"Sorry, sir. It won't happen again," Richard forces out through clenched teeth.

Mister Curry returns to the board to continue teaching, but before he can place the marker back on the white board, he says, "what was that about Miss Lance?"

"I said she loves her calculators." The class snickers.

"Very well. Let's not have any more interruptions shall we?"

"Sir, yes sir," Richard sarcastically retorts with a two finger salute.

The rest of the day continues without any interruptions. Xavier does not bother me while I am at my locker, but I do notice him staring at me. Once I leave the school, I take a longer back route to my house so that no one inside the house will know I am coming, and especially not Galfore and his associates. So much for trust in a family friend.

I climb over the fence that encases the backyard, and I run over to the shed to pull out the ladder. I lean the ladder on my bedroom window, and I start to climb. I slide the small loose panel of wood at the bottom of the window frame and insert my secondary key to unlock the window. I throw the window up and jump inside. I remove my backpack and place it on my bed to take out my notebook. Slowly, I make my way to my closet, listening for any footsteps. There are none. I unlock the safe in the back corner of my closet, grab my handgun, ammunition, and knife, and place my notebook inside the safe. Then, I lock it. I place the knife on my left boot, so I will have a spare knife. I use the clip on the side of the case to slide the handgun on my belt, checking to see if there is any live ammunition inside. There is. I place an extra ammunition cartridge on my belt, for spare ammunition. Grabbing a hoodie, I close the closet door. To hide my handgun, I will wear a hoodie. They must not think that I have the upper hand.

I cautiously climb back onto the ladder and lock my window. Once I am on the ground, I return the ladder, and jump back over the fence so I can make my way to the front door. I unlock the door using the keychain in my pocket.

"Ryan! I am home. Where are you?" I call out.

"I'm right here, Kory." I look down. "Guess who's here? Tim! Did you know that his brother is Richard? He's here, too, with their dad. He's still wearing his bandage, too! Isn't that great?" Tim must be Richard's "friend," and his father must be his "boss." They must be Galfore's associates.

"That is wonderful, Ryan. Is Galfore here?" He nods and points to the living room. "Thank you, my darling. Can you stay in your room for a little bit while we speak? Maybe, you can start on your homework?" I have always felt more like a mother to Ryan than I have a sister. It is always hard not to treat him as if he were my son.

"I guess so. But can Tim and I play later?" he asks with a hopeful smile.

"I will speak to Galfore about it, okay?"

"Okay." I tickle him, and I pretend to scold him.

"Now go to your room," I say with a false voice of anger. We share a small laugh, and he runs up to his room. It is time to face Galfore and the associates. I walk over to the living room to see the four of them, even Tim, in deep conversation. I cough to let them know that I am here. Galfore gets up and walks over to me to hug me, but I take three steps back before he can. I can see a flash of hurt pass though his eyes, and I almost feel bad before I remember why we are all gathered here. He quickly recovers and starts to introduce the strangers sitting in our living room. They all look like clones of each other. They all have dark black hair and light blue eyes, except for Richard. He has a darker blue hue to his eyes. The first man, obviously the oldest, is called Bruce Wayne, the adoptive father of the two boys. I already know Richard. The last boy is Ryan's age. Tim, otherwise known as Timothy Drake, is but a fragile little boy who looks wise beyond his six years. Like I am with Ryan, Richard appears to be rather protective of Timothy.

Galfore takes a seat in the chair across from the couch that the family is sitting on, and he instructs me to sit in the chair next to him. Once I am situated, I address Galfore.

"Why are they here? Why have you hired children to watch Ryan and me? Why did you keep this all a secret?" I do not need anyone to protect myself, or Ryan. I have been doing just that for six years without failure.

"Koriand'r do not be so rude," Galfore scolds.

"No, Galfore," he flinches at the use of my harsh tone. "You do not be so rude! You have invited invasive strangers to this house. You have invaded my privacy, and my brother's. You have set free my secrets! If I had wanted them to be told, I would have done so. Ryan does not even know of his past. I do not want to scar him at such a young age. I have taken care of him ever since our parents were murdered. I am more of a parent than you will ever be, and I am his sister. You, you only house us because we are the king's children, because you were burdened with us. Explain your reasoning for this chaos."

"Wait, Kory. Don't blame Galfore. He-" Richard starts to speak, almost sounding scared.

"Did I request for you to speak?" I hiss. "Then do not speak out of turn. You do not have my respect. You will have to earn it. All of you. Now, Galfore, explain."

"Koriand'r-" Galfore speaks.

"Do. Not. Ever. Use my Tamaranean name, especially in the presence of others." I do not want to be remembered as Koriand'r. I do not want to be reminded of my evil older sister, Komand'r. Ryand'r, my baby brother, never even existed to the country of Tamaran. "Koriand'r died with the king and queen of Tamaran."

Richard stands up from the couch to hold me back from Galfore. I did not even notice that I was out of the chair. Fighting for my life, and Ryan's, has encouraged violent tendencies in me, and when I am furious, I will do nothing to hold them back.

As soon as Richard's hands skim the sleeve of my hoodie, I pull out my handgun, aim it at Richard's head, flip off the safety, and lay my index finger on the trigger. "Do not test me, Richard Grayson." He throws his hands up and slowly backs away from me. Silently, he takes a seat back on the couch. I safely return the handgun to its case before I sit down. Timothy's eyes are wide with fear, and I see myself in his shoes, watching Ryan being threatened. I take a deep breath and clench my fists until I draw blood. "I do not care who explains this situation to me, but someone will, or I am leaving, and taking Ryan with me."

Galfore remains silent, looking to the ground. Timothy fiercely hugs Richard, while Richard comforts him. Mister Wayne is the one to explain.

"I apologize for my son's behavior. He's read your file," I clench my jaw at this, but nonetheless, he continues, "and should know your reactions to every situation. Galfore only wanted what was best for you and Ryan, so he consulted my sons and me to keep a close watch on the both of you. Galfore told me that you were okay with the services being offered and the release of information on the subject. We should not have proceed without your explicit authorization, first. The original plan was for Tim to befriend Ryan and keep tabs on him that way, reporting to me. Richard was supposed to do the same, be he obviously messed up. I was only to report anything concerning to Galfore, and he would proceed from there." I nod, and I start to put the pieces together.

"Richard?" He gives me a frightened glance. "Why did you harm Xavier? I mean, I know now that you saw him confront me at my locker. You did not follow me home because I almost punched you. You came to my house because you had to ensure that no harm came to me. When you left, you harmed Xavier for threating me. That is why you have bruises on your knuckles." He looks down at his hand.

"How did you know that?" he asks incredulously.

"When you have had the experience that I had the unfortunate pleasure of living through, you learn a few things. One more question, and I believe it will conclude our business meeting, and start another about Ryan. Who exactly is Slade Wilson, and what does he have to do with Richard and me?"

Before Richard can say anything, Mister Wayne beats him to it, "that's where you are supposed to come in. We don't know who he is exactly. We have a few insiders working inside the school to spy on him. He seems to be very interested in the pair of you. What did you want to discuss about Ryan?" He looks over to Galfore, but I speak instead.

"First of all, Ryan will know nothing about what is happening. If I choose to, I will tell him, myself. Second of all, I think that I need to get to know Timothy better if he is going to be having play dates with my baby brother, although I prefer that they happen here, yes?" Timothy looks over to Mister Wayne, silently pleading for him to say yes.

"I think that can be arranged." He immediately launches himself into giving thanks to his adoptive father.

"Timothy, do you want to tell Ryan with me?" I hold out my hand to him. He jumps off the couch, grabs my hand, and starts to drag me to the stairs. Once we are at Ryan's door, I knock, and Ryan opens the door.

"Why do not you and Ryan play while I arrange some play dates with your father?" He nods furiously and disappears into the room with Ryan. I stop off at my room and lock myself inside. I go to my safe, deposit my weapons, and I record all of the events that took place downstairs. I lock it, hang up my hoodie, and return back to the living room. I do not see Galfore there, so he is probably in his study. I feel bad for yelling at him, but I feel as though I have done what was necessary in these circumstances.

"Mister Wayne?"

"Please, call me Bruce. Everyone does."

"Bruce…I will not say that I am completely okay with this arrangement, but if it helps to protect Ryan, I will allow it. Also, I need to discuss dates for Timothy to come visit, and I suppose I should also get to know Richard."

"I'm glad to hear that, Kory. This Saturday, at say, noon, should do nicely for a play date, do you agree? I can have Dick drive Tim over, also."

"That will do perfectly. I offer you my thanks." I enter the event in the digital calendar application in my smart phone.

Bruce, Richard, and Timothy leave just a short while after I finish speaking with Bruce. This promises to be an interesting year of what I have left of freedom.

Later that night when I am finishing the end of a run, I think to message Richard. I suppose that I should apologize to him for almost killing him. As I am unlocking my front door, I cannot help but feel as though there is someone watching me. I look behind me, but I see nothing but the blank darkness staring at me. I make a mental note to start running earlier.

I take a quick shower, and change into my night clothes. As always, I check on Ryan to make sure he is okay, and then I head to my room. While I am laying in my bed, I send a short message conveying my apologies, but before I can receive a reply, I fall into a slumber filled with all too real memories lashing out at me in the dark abyss. I pray to X'hal that the violent piercing of my alarm comes quickly.

Author's Note: 8 February 2014

Wow. I actually wasn't that horribly late on updating. I'm not entirely sure what to say, so you can just skip my rambling. Um…as always constructive criticism, or just a review in general, would be amazing! Thanks for reading, and hopefully, see you soon!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans or anything Teen Titans affiliated. However, I do own the story plot and my ideas.