A/N: This is a chapter I thought up at work recently, considering how badly I botched Gar's return in draft one of Redux 3. I figured this might be a better setup, especially since it's focusing on his closest friends rather than Gar. This story ain't gonna be updated every day (I'm a busy person these days) but as long as the flow keeps up like this, this story will be done. I WANNA DO THAT GUNDAM STORY SO BAD!

To Be Where I Have Been…

December 5, 2010

The stillness of the quiet room is suddenly interrupted by the sound of an alarm clock, buzzing impolitely as seven in the morning arrives. Stirring from peaceful sleep, a tired pair of purple eyes make contact with the device, switching off the alarm and turning on the radio.
"whenever we learn to take one step at a time, there's no need to rush, it's learning to fly, or falling in love…"

Groaning a bit, a woman of purple rises out of the bed with hands on her face "It's too early for this…" before turning off the music.

After a quick shower, a healthy bowl of cereal is prepared as the radio in the kitchen announces the morning news.

"… officials this morning are reporting that another shooting has taken place in the Chinatown section, leaving three locals dead. Police are telling the media that eyewitnesses have placed the blame on "white-skinned, armed men" and suggest a possible gangland connection…"

The sweet smell of fine tea fills the air as the radio continues on.

"… protest continues to grow across the world wide web amidst concerns that the government has been trying to suppress yesterday's release of thousands of sensitive diplomatic cables by the internet site WikiLeaks. President Obama had this to say about…"
The weather just keeps getting colder but, from a glance out of the kitchen window, the sun will at least be out today. With the water already at a boil, she can at least enjoy some bit of happiness the radio won't give her.

"…and finally the 49ers are on the road today, facing off against the Green Bay Packers in what is expected to be played in below freezing temperatures…"

Some time later, Raven can be seen sitting by a desk, room illuminated by the late-fall sun, reading what appears to be textbooks. Absent is the cloak and leotard, instead replaced by a pair of pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt. Classical music carries the feeling of a library inside the small living room, any means to help improve on this troublesome topic.

Out of the blue, the phone rings at the end of her desk, shaking her out of her reverie. Picking it up with her right, free hand, she slips it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Raven, this is Jake. Are you free?"

"I haven't heard from you since September. I'm surprised you're still alive." Despite the remark, the faint hint of a smile tells the true story.

However, Jake isn't in a playing mood "Are you available right now?"

"I'm catching up on some school work. What's the matter, you sound tenser than usual."

A cough on the other end of the line breaks the discussion a second before he replies "Did you hear about the JCRB heist on Friday?"

Tapping at a sentence in her book, she answers "Yeah, I heard it on the radio. You know something about it?"

"It's only a feeling… but a feeling's better than nothing. How soon can you be in North Jump?"

Her eyes leaving the book, she sits up with a bit of surprise to her face "North Jump? I wasn't planning on leaving the apartment today."

"Grab you coat then, we need to meet."

"Wait a minute, Jake,… I haven't heard from you in months and all of a sudden you…"

"Be at the Johnston Apartments in two hours. I wouldn't ask you like this is it weren't important, Rae. But right now I need your help. Be there in two hours." CLICK.

Hanging up the phone, a look of concern further spreads across her ashen face. For a guy who's usually carefree. Might as see what he needs though…

Sitting inside his beaten, weary Monte Carlo, Jake sits inside with a scowl on his face. A cigarette burns low on his lip, the window cracked just barely to let the smoke free. With the radio turned a bit loud, his engine running, and with a tapping foot, all he needs right now is two women to get here on time. It doesn't help matters that heating is off in the Apartments and his own car's heat is disappearing along with the smoke.

Trying to kill the time, he takes a folder from the passenger seat and reviews some of his notes. Pictures of the JCRB heist, security footage being powered by private power, electricity that the criminals DIDN'T cut. Grainy images of course are visible, clarity's "too expensive" for cheap people these days. Still, it's the stills that have him occupied… someone's been making trouble for these criminals. The precision of it all gives the idea of an amateur away in a heartbeat. Three men dead from bullet wounds, two from sharp objects, and one of them had heavy burns marks. It doesn't make sense if the man's trying to be discreet about his vigilantism… almost like they…

KNOCK KNOCK.

Shook out of his attention, Jake looks across at the sight of Rebecca Sinclair, blue in the face from the cold, demanding to be let in. Obliging, he opens the lock, letting her into what little heat there was in the car.

"Close that damn window, you're letting all the warm air out!" she orders to him, her former police nature still as obvious as ever.

"I don't want to be breathing in hot smoke; I'll take the cold anytime." Jake retorts, putting his folder in the back of the car. "Rav.. I mean "Rachel" will be here any minute."

"Maybe now you can tell me why you pretty much demanded that I come here?" The cold isn't going to disappear just yet and Jake's been very vague on the details.

"Wait until she gets here, then I'll tell you."

…

"So, how have you been? I haven't talked to you since…" His cold eyes, even more frigid than the morning air, stare ahead at the street beyond. For a moment, Rebecca might even match that look to a certain mass-murder back in Gotham. "I'm sorry, forget I asked."

"It's the price I paid for thinking I could help him make a difference. Now I have two people I owe a debt to..." Looking towards the sidewalk, he spots her in her blue ski coat. "Raven's here. We can get going now."

Driving past the hunks of buildings and "poverty-stricken environments", two very irritable women await answers from one stoic man. His seriousness, a very rare trait on his part, gives more to worry about than their destination.

"So why did you drag me all the way from the city for this?" Raven asks, tapping her feet oh so similar to Rebecca right now.

Taking a breath, Jake advises her "Take a look at the photographs inside that folder next to you. See if you can tell me anything about them."

Eyebrow raised, she none-the-less follows through and observes the pictures. "These are really bad quality, you know that. It looks like pictures of the bank robbery."

"How'd you manage to get those?" Rebecca asks, wondering how this simple P.I. managed to…

"A favor from a friend working for Jump City Securities. And yes, those are pictures from the heist. Does the man in the coat look familiar?"

A moment of observation brings back a reply "Looks normal to me. Was he the one who killed those people?"

"They believe so. What we're doing right now is seeing if the man who did that to those bank robbers is still in town." Jake answers, taking a turn towards a certain section of North Jump.

"What makes you think he's in North Jump? He could be in Chinatown to if he wanted to escape." Sinclair points out, locking the door just in case something goes down at a red light.

"I'm with Rebecca on this, Jake, it doesn't make sense. What makes you think he's in North Jump?"

"He wouldn't go to Chinatown, there's too many Triads there. Someone acting as a vigilante might be considered a threat. But consider North Jump, a slum with barely any law and more trouble than a dive concert. The only trouble he'd get from major groups are the Desades, who are dying by the day, or the smaller groups in the city led by Bone. There's a LOT more places to hide than Downtown…"

"So where do you think we should start looking for him?" Raven asks, leaning up closer to them.

Hitting the brakes, he pulls in next to a derelict building. "The first place I'd look."

Looking out of the window, Raven's eyes grow wide at the realization of the location: An abandoned, small-time clinic with boarded up windows and doors, a complete shithole if she'd ever seen one. And the thought dawns on her sharp mind: This is not the first time she's been here. "Jake, this is…"

Turing to see her, Jake responds "This is where we start looking."

"Why here?" Rebecca asks, not knowing this place like the other two.

Opening the door, the P.I. answers "If he's back home, he'll have been here."

Using a crowbar from his trunk, Jake gets to work on the back door entrance. Very few, if any cars go by this area and fewer chances of witnesses to this breaking and entering. Once the three cold adults get through the barricaded door, the enter a very cold, very dark interior. Using her black magic, Raven summons up some light and guides them into the building. Not much more than dirt and debris is to be found, the building being left in very poor condition. A few bed frames are rusting, evidence of countertops are cracking, the walls covered in graffiti from a by-gone time.

"Oh my god…" Rebecca blurts out, looking into the back room of the place.

Coming over to meet her, the three look inside to find a dusty sleeping bag, some books… and what appears to be the remains of a trio of torn up seagulls. Feathers everywhere, evidence of butchery from the blood stains…

"Whomever it was got hungry." Jake whispers as they inspect the area further.

"The remains aren't decomposed yet." Rebecca points out, observing some of the remaining body parts. "They must've been eaten recently."

"These books and the sleeping bag were here in 2008 when I came by. They look like they've seen some age." Raven guesses, looking at the various titles. "A homeless man could've been the chicken for all we know."

"But how, the entrances are all boarded up." Jake reminds here, the boarded windows an obvious fact of that.

"Whoever would've lived here would've had a hard time seeing with the lack of light. They might've used a flashlight or something like that. You wouldn't be able to notice from outside, even if there were a lot of people walking on the sidewalk."

Taking in Rebecca's observation, Raven balls some of the sleeping bag material in her hand, it's previous occupant now firmly in her mind. "Are there anyway to collect evidence here? Fingerprints, footprints, anything?"

"With all the dust in here, I doubt that. And any footprints here look as though they've been here for quite a long time."

Observing the walls, Jake suggests "We've gotten a lead here, believe it or not. Someone's been using the Watchman's M.O. of dress, habits, and style of fighting with the exception of killing. My inquiry to Arkham Asylum says that Gar's still in prison…"

"Why didn't you CALL me that you thought Gar was back?" Raven asks, her emotions rising just a little bit.

"And raise your hopes needlessly? I have more respect for you than that, Rachel."

Huddling in her coat some more for heat, Rebecca suggests "We can check this out anytime we want. In the meantime, lets get back in that car."

On their way across the Bay Bridge heading towards Jump, the car is eerily quiet as Raven stares out of the windows, lost deeply in thought. Jake and Rebecca talk quietly to themselves, giving the younger Goth some peace but the elephant is still in the air.

"My only other lead burnt to the ground over three years ago. I'm going to do some more digging, see if I can't find any more clues. Someone's bound to have seen him."

"We still need more information about the man himself. I'll track down some of the witnesses, see if they can't give me a better description than the police statement."

Looking in the rear view at a very conflicted Raven, Jake asks frankly "Rachel, would you have any ideas on how to find this man?"

"Gar's still in Arkham so I'm not sure how we'd find a copycat. He could be anywhere."

"Maybe your friends in the Titans could help you,"

Eyes moving back towards the traffic coming past, she admits sadly "Ever since Starfire and Argent got killed, they've been focused entirely on the Illuminati. Rob.. Nightwing won't divert any resources to a man who just helped him indirectly."

After paying the toll, the black Monte Carlo streaks through town, a quiet in the car as the radio fills the air. Staring out, she notices a couple sitting on a bench for the next bus. Just your average tall man in a black overcoat sitting next to an foreign looking woman with flowers in her hair. Just another sight for the streets of Jump City.

In the evening, the school books sit on the desk unopened, the radio remains off, not a sound of a steaming teapot… just the sound of soft breathing as Raven lies on her back on the bed, staring blankly at the popcorn-spackled white ceiling. Could it be true what Jake said, that Gar's really in Arkham still. Could it be that some maniac out there's copycatting Gar's style of crime fighting? Anything's possible, especially in this crazy city of Jump… but there was something about that old clinic, something that Jake and Rebecca missed. The feeling of that place spoke to her, the vibe that something, or someone, wasn't too far off. That hadn't been empty for years, the half-eaten birds were enough for that fact, but who was another story. ..

"Should I call Question? Maybe he'd know what to do." Her words sound so loud in a quiet room but reality reminds her of Gar's condition. "No, he'd say that Gar's still in prison just like Jake did."

Huddling herself into a ball, wrapping her arms around her legs, she whispers to herself for some reassurance "Gar, if only you could be here right now… You don't know just how much we all miss you."

Walking along a desolate street, one hand in his pocket, a solemn-faced man approaches an old building, not even worthy of a streetlamp to illuminate it. In his free hand, a bag of food for the night dangles, it's owner waiting to feast on it's nutrients. Rounding the corner, Gar looks to the back door and stops in his tracks. Sniffing the air, he can't smell anything direct from inside although the open door raises warnings in his head.

Inside, his animal eyesight pierces the darkness, not seeing anyone but smelling faint traces of scents in the air. Setting his food down by his books, Gar picks up on one particular scent near his sleeping bag. Taking a good whiff, he speaks aloud the first soft word since he's returned:
"Raven…?"

AN/2: I like the idea of the P.I., a former cop, a reservist hero, and a dangerous vigilante together, it's what I wanted to do in Watchman Draft One (with the five people teaming up) but this feels more real. Again, I'm alluding to Raven's new "life" as it were since she's more or less resigned from active Titans duty. She'll still be on call if necessary but I think she's moving on in life. Jake is one of those people I like (and I know a few of these) that's seen so much stuff in their life, they almost get a sixth sense with things most people miss. What happened to his girl will be mentioned (he owes two debts now?)

Trivia:
- WikiLeaks and the 49ers reference were real events, the Chinatown one is plot invented.
- Jump City Securities... c'mon, it's a cartoon.. just like "555" in every phone number.

Rhetorical:
Can you tell I'm listening to slow jazz throughout this chap?