One word...FINALLY! I am very, very sorry! The only excuse I have is that I was trying to get ready for midterms, which as good an excuse as any I suppose:D.

Anywho, this chapter is by far the longest I've written, so maybe it'll make up for the long wait. Or maybe it'll just be annoyingly long to read, I don't know:). And also, I'm sorry, I don't know exactly what the heck happened here. There is a lot of...Robin, in this chapter. That was rather unexpected. Actually, most of this chapter was unexpected, if I'm being perfectly honest with you, but I think it came together okay.

A massively huge thanks to all readers and reviewers, as always, I really appreciate it and am extremely grateful! Thanks again!

What else what else what else?

Oh yes, I don't own Teen Titans. Or do I?...no, I don't. :)

Enjoy!

-Liss


Chapter Nine. Of Reconciliation and Recognition.

Okay, just breath, Robin tried to calm himself as he walked through the dark streets of Jump City with his head lowered, Nobody could possibly recognize you. It's highly unlikely that anybody can even see you.

"Why am I doing this?" he whispered to himself, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. There was something to be said about completely ditching his mild-mannered citizen alter-ego, but he had to admit that it was nice to be able to wear something other than tights for once. He had snuck out of the tower, dressed in the casual clothes that he kept for emergencies. The Titans had stayed up late into the night, poring over security footage from that afternoon in an attempt to locate where Register may have taken Beast Boy. Raven had been the last to fall asleep, shortly after three. She'd spent the whole night trying to find Beast Boy psychically, to no avail. The green Titan was too far away.

And now here he was, unmasked, approaching a phone booth in downtown Jump City. This was their last chance, and even though he flinched at the idea of doing so, he picked up the phone, slipped in a quarter, and dialed the number almost instinctively.

"Wayne residence," came a familiar voice. Robin had to smile at the words he'd heard the old butler speak so many times while living in Gotham. If there was one thing he missed about that life, it was Alfred.

"Hey Alfred," he said, leaning into the booth, "It's me-Dick...uh, Grayson." This was a mistake...this is stupid...why am I doing this? Robin could feel his heart pounding in his throat.

"Master Dick?" the elderly man sounded surprised, "It has been a rather long time since you last called. In fact, I don't believe you have since the last time you visited Gotham, and that was-"

"Almost two years ago. I know," Robin interupted, "It's been...busy. I've been occupied with, you know, school and stuff."

"Ah yes. School and stuff," Alfred said, and Robin could almost see the wry grin on his face, "Yes, I've heard on the news that the education system out west is very...interesting. Out of curiosity, Master Dick, have you happened to see the Teen Titans out there? I've read that Jump City is their base of operations."

"I'll have to take your word on that Al," Robin muttered, "Listen, I need to talk to Bruce. It's really important."

"Certainly Master Dick."

"Wait-" Robin blurted, "Alfred?"

"Yes Master Dick?"

"I'm sorry...you know, that I completely lost touch," he ran a hand through his hair, "I probably seemed like some rebellious ingrate."

"Rebellious, perhaps," Alfred said gently, "But never ungrateful."

"Thanks Alfred," Robin breathed out in relief. Now he just had to get through talking to Bruce.

"One moment, and I'll put you through to Master Bruce." The phone clicked and Robin stood silently, dreading the moment when Bruce picked it up. After a few moments, he realized that there was soft music playing over the speaker. He snorted with laughter at the thought of Batman using pathetic elevator music to put people on hold. He was still laughing softly when the music stopped.

"Hello," Bruce's deep voice killed Robin's laughter quickly.

"Hi," Robin replied, trying desparately to sound calm and in control of the situation.

"Dick." Pressing his head into the cold plastic of the payphone, Robin shut his eyes tightly.

"Yeah, I-"

"You're using the precautionary measures I taught you?"

"Yes," Robin double checked to make sure the street was empty, "Yeah, I'm at that payphone, nobody's here, nobody followed me, I'm not wearing my uni-"

"Good," Bruce cut him off, "What do you want?" It had been four years since he'd left the mansion to gain some independence, tired of living in Batman's shadow, and formed the Titans. It had been nearly two years now since he'd last spoken to anybody from Gotham, and that was all the man who'd as good as raised him had to say.

"Nice to talk to you too Bruce," Robin snapped, angry at his mentor, "Wow, it sure has been a long time. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

"You're the one who left Gotham and never attempted to contact any of your old friends, Dick, not me," Bruce said calmly, "If you're going to pull the righteous teenage anger card, at least make sure it's justified."

"Nothing was stopping you from contacting me," Robin's voice began to rise in frustration, until he was practically shouting, "And I'm not pulling any cards Bruce. I'm almost twenty, I'm not a kid anymore."

"Lower your voice Dick," Bruce said stoically, "You'll wake the entire city."

"I don't have time for this-could you just...just listen to me for a minute?" Robin hissed in a low whisper.

"This is important to you," stated his mentor.

"Obviously it's important to me," Robin sighed, "To make me call after two years."

"Alright...I'm listening." And suddenly, Robin was pouring out the whole story, alarmed at how easy it was to confide in Bruce. The last time he'd been to Gotham, he hadn't left on the most...friendly of terms. He would never have expected to be in a dark street in the middle of the night, confessing all of his mistakes to Bruce over a payphone. Finishing off his story, he realized how much pressure had been lifted from him by telling his mentor.

"So basically, I've screwed up every time I possibly could have," Robin concluded, "And now Gar's gone, and the guy that's got him is insane, and we have no way of finding him or even knowing if he's better." He waited silently, waiting for Bruce to tell him that he was in over his head.

"Being a leader isn't easy Dick," came Bruce's reply after a moment's deliberation, "You have to be prepared to accept the consequences of all decisions, good or bad."

"I know, I let everybody down-"

"Let me finish."

"Ok," Robin gulped, switching the phone to his other ear, "Sorry."

"As I was saying," Bruce cleared his throat, "You have...you've done a good job over there. Everybody makes mistakes sometimes."

"Even you?"

"Almost everbody," Bruce continued, "So what are you going to do now?"

"I was hoping that Ora-er, Barbara would be able to find something on the guy," Robin rubbed his eyes, unused to having them unprotected, "But I don't know how to get ahold of her. I know she moved to Metropolis, but I don't know where..." He trailed off, realizing for the first time that Batman was fighting for Gotham on his own. He's fine, he told himself, he was fighting crime in Gotham long before you came on the scene. And besides, Alfred's still there...

"Yes, I'd imagine that Barbara will be able to help you locate Mr. Logan," Bruce interrupted his thoughts, "But will she be willing?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Robin stood straight abruptly.

"I was under the impression that the two of you exchanged...unpleasantries the last time you were here," Bruce said slowly. Shaking his head, Robin cursed himself inwardly for letting things get so bad between him and the rest of the 'bat family'.

"Yeah. She was mad because..." Robin paused, recollecting Barbara's fury at him when he told her he was staying in Jump City with the Titans, "Well, she was mad. But I'm sure she's over it by now..."

"I'm sure," Bruce muttered, then gave Robin the complex codes and passwords he'd need to contact Barbara as Oracle.

"Can't I just call her?" Robin groaned as he wrote them down on a post-it note, "With a normal phone number?"

"Not if you really want her services as Oracle," Bruce replied, "She's fairly strict about keeping her identity secret-something that I'm sure you would understand."

"Alright," Robin, fidgeting, kicked a lampost to release his pent up energy, "I guess I'll go back to...I'll go home and contact her from there. You gonna wish me luck?"

"You don't need it," Bruce's deep voice became deeper, became the voice of Batman, and then Robin was left listening dead air.

"Thanks Bats," he whispered softly as he hung up the payphone, and then he was gone, melded into the night.


"Hey Babs."

"Who is this?" Barbara Gordon's face loomed large on the Titans' communications screen.

"It's me," Robin, once more wearing his entire uniform save the mask, stepped into Barbara's feild of vision, "Robin...Dick...Grayson?"

"Oh," Barbara looked at him over her glasses with raised eyebrows, "Well in that case, goodnight and goodbye." She reached towards a button that Robin couldn't see.

"Barbara, wait!" Robin shouted, throwing his hands in the air, "Please, it took me twenty minutes to get through to you."

"It wouldn't have taken so long if you'd kept in touch," she snapped, but withdrew her hand.

"Yeah..." Robin grimaced, "About that...look, I'm sorry. I guess I just assumed that you wouldn't want to talk to me."

"Why would you assume that?" Barbara leaned back in her chair and looked at her fingernails, "What, did Starfire tell you we shouldn't talk to eachother?"

"Please Babs, don't do this to me," Robin rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't want to fight with you. I never did." Barbara's face softened a bit at these words.

"I know, Rob," she looked away from the screen, "I didn't either. It just-I was just so mad at you. For leaving. For coming back. And then...for choosing the Titans over us."

"It wasn't..." Robin began, shocked that she could ever think that, "It was never like that Babs. The Titans-they needed me. They're my team, I couldn't just abandon them. They're my family."

He saw that Barbara was about to protest to this, and swiftly cut her off, "You and Bruce and everybody back in Gotham are still my family too. And it's not that I like the Titans better, or that they've replaced you guys, or anything like that. It's just...this is where I belong right now, Babs. Can't you understand that?" Barbara stared at him for a few seconds, then smiled suddenly.

"I'd be a pretty big hypocrite if I couldn't," she grinned, indicating her Metropolis headquarters, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that you didn't just call for a heartfelt apology? Although I hear you've been doing a lot of that tonight." Robin breathed a sigh of relief. That had gone a lot better than he'd expected. He'd walked away from their last meeting with the imprint of particularly sharp trophy on his forehead.

"Yeah, I talked to Alfred and Bru-," Robin stopped, startled, "Wait, how'd you know about that?"

"They don't call me Oracle for nothing, Rob," she gave him a wink, then teased, "So you made amends with Alfred, Bruce, and me, all in one night? That must have been emotionally draining for you."

"Yeah, I'm spent. I won't be able to have human contact for at least four days," Robin chuckled. It felt good to joke with Barbara again, even if she was teasing him for his Bat-like lack of social skills. The Titans might have thought him emotionally distant, but compared to Bruce, he was freaking Oprah Winfrey.

"So what's up?" Barbara leaned forward, hands poised to type on one of her numerous keyboards.

"One of my teammates-one of my friends, was taken this afternoon," Robin told her, his voice cracking slightly.

"Oh god Rob," she said, slightly taken aback, "Which one?"

"Beast Boy," Robin sat heavily in one of the many chairs in front of the giant screen, "Remember, he's the one-"

"Green skin, hair, eyes, shapeshifter, former member of the Doom Patrol. Real name, Garfield Logan," Barbara spouted off, smiling slightly at the look on Robin's face, "He came to Gotham with you, right?"

"Yeah," answered Robin, laughing softly at the memory, "But he was scared of Batman, so he spent most of the time hiding behind Cyborg."

"Yeah, I remember him," Barbara smiled again, recalling the exuberant youth who'd become timid whenever in the prescence of Batman, "He seemed like a nice kid. Do you know if he's alright? Who took him? Where he is?"

"We know who, and that's about it," Robin shrugged, "Doctor Samuel Register. Here, I'm sending you a file of everything we know so far. We don't know where he is, but we figure he's still alive. Probably for experimentation purposes, because-"

"He's got Sakutia, and Register's obsessed with it," Barbara interrupted him, "It's all over his file. He's been working with all aspects of the disease for twelve years now, since your friend got it. He was fired from S.T.A.R. Labs five years ago, and nobody's seen hide nor hair of him since."

"There's got to be something you can dig up on him," Robin pleaded, "Please?"

"Don't beg Dick, it doesn't suit you. Of course I'll look for him, you don't have to ask me," Barbara was distracted, reading over the file Robin had sent, "Wait a sec..."

"What?" Robin perked up in his chair.

"It says here that you saw Register leave the island on your security cameras," she said, flipping through the pages of the printout.

"Yeah," he replied, "I sent the video files, you can double check them if you want to."

"Who broke into the room then?" she asked him incredulously, "Did you send me the files of that perhaps?"

"Yeah," Robin was suddenly struck with his stupidity, "But it was too dark, you can't tell who it is on the video. We just assumed..."

"Well, you know what happens when you do that," Barbara remarked, "Anyways, the point is, Register had an accomplice. Or maybe he's just a pawn. Maybe this is bigger than some mad scientist complex."

"Slade," Robin muttered, pounding his fists together.

"Please," Barbara snorted with laughter, and Robin looked up at her indignantly, "That psycho's been out of the scene for over a year now. You're obsessed."

"I'm not obsessed...why does everybody say that?" he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. Realizing that he probably looked like a two year old having a temper tantrum, he promptly uncrossed his arms and sat up straight.

"Get some sleep, ok?" Barbara smiled at him, "I'll look into it, and I'll have some answers for you by morning."

"But I'm not ti-" he broke off in a huge yawn, betraying his exhaustion.

"I'll contact you guys, so you don't have to get through my security again," Barbara leaned forward to turn off the screen, then stopped, "Oh, and I'll send you your very own 'Oracle-link', so you can get ahold of me whenever you need to."

"Thanks Babs," Robin said through another yawn, "G'night."

"Good night Dick," she waved and then the screen turned black. Suddenly completely overcome by fatigue, Robin stumbled to the couch and flopped down on it. He was asleep before his head hit the cushions.

Old and New.

It was a rare occasion that somebody rose before Raven did, but this morning Starfire was restless and had woken long before even the slivers of light that preceded the arrival of the sun had begun to breach the horizon. Mind still reeling from the events of the previous day, unsure of what to do next, she found herself drifting gently into the communications center. Humming a terribly off-key Tamaranian festival song and strumming her fingers against her thigh, she seated herself on the edge of the couch.

"All the money?" Star had to hold back a small yelp when Robin's groggy voice pierced the silence. She looked to see him sprawled out across the couch, clothing and hair looking distinctly ruffled.

"What did you say Robin?" she whispered, crawling over the couch to sit beside him. He rolled over to lie on his back, and Starfire saw that he was sleeping, unmasked. Smiling softly to herself she lightly ran her fingers through his tousled hair. She'd seen him without a mask a few times before, but the sight still took her breath away. His lashes were long and thick, and she knew that when he opened his eyes, they would be a bright, dazzling blue.

Seeing that he'd placed his mask on the coffee table, she gently put it back on his face. All of the Titans had seen him at least once without it, but she knew that he felt more comfortable with it on.

"You spent it on a fork?" Robin slurred and rolled over again. Starfire had witnessed such behaiviour in humans before, but never had she heard Robin talking in his sleep. She had to smile, wondering what he could be dreaming about. Her thoughts were suddenly interuppted when the communications screen flashed on, and a familiar voice rang out from the speakers.

"Robin? Are you there?" Starfire recognized the voice as the Oracle, the woman she'd met briefly on her only trip to Gotham.

"Greetings Oracle," the young alien said stiffly, rising to stand in front of the screen. Oracle had never warmed to her, and Star wasn't so naive that she couldn't guess why Robin's old friends would be envious of the Titans-particularly her.

"Oh..." Oracle seemed slightly disappointed that Star had answered her, "Hello Starfire. Is Robin there?" Starfire could feel anger starting to boil inside her. Oracle and Batman had hurt Robin when they'd gone to Gotham, more than they could ever know. After the Titans had returned from their trip to meet Robin's mentor, Robin had retreated to his room for weeks, only slipping out in the inky black of night. None of the Titans knew or asked what he'd been doing those nights, opting to leave Robin alone to cope with the huge falling out he'd had with Batman and Oracle. And now, two years later, Oracle was calling them and expecting Robin to forgive her?

"Robin is asleep at the present time," Starfire's voice shook with anger, "What is it that you need to speak with him about?"

"That's not that surprising," Oracle smiled, "It was nearly five in the morning when I told him to go to sleep." Starfire could feel her eyes beginning to glow bright green at the thought of Oracle telling Robin to do anything.

"You..." she swallowed hard, "You spoke with Robin during the night?"

"Yeah, he called and asked me to help with-" Oracle, seeing the look on Starfire's face, stopped and sighed, "Listen Starfire...I know that there's some bad blood between us, and I know that it's mostly my fault. I acted like a...well, let's just say that I wasn't the nicest person to you when you came to Gotham."

"Um..." Starfire, flabbergasted by this unexpected apology, could think of nothing to say.

"You were nothing but nice to me, and I was just...as I said, not nice," Oracle paused and took a deep breath, as though what she was about to say would be extremely difficult, "And I'm...I'm really sorry about that." Starfire's anger had swiftly evaporated as Oracle spoke. On Tamaran, an apology was considered the greatest act of courage that anyone could do, and she knew that this was as true here as it was on her planet, even if the people here didn't acknowledge it.

"Glorious," she smiled up at the screen, "Think nothing of it. I am certain you had good reason to be upset with us. I do not think I would be kindly disposed towards the new friends of an old friend either. Perhaps, rather than having new and old friends, we could just have...friends?"

"Yeah," Oracle nodded, smiling, "I...yeah. Friends. My name's Barbara."

"And I am Koriand'r, daughter of Tamaran," Star smiled, pleased to return Barbara's gesture of confidence, "I am so very delighted that we can be-"

"Star?" a bleary-eyed Robin popped up from behind the couch, "Who's there?"

"It is my new friend Barbara," Starfire replied joyfully, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"Bar-Babs?" wide awake, Robin attempted to leap over the back of the couch, only to find himself sprawled out on the floor at Starfire's feet. He picked himself up and looked from one red head to the other, bracing himself for the explosive fight he was sure would ensue. Suddenly both girls burst out laughing, and he relaxed a little.

"Rob, you should have seen the look on your face," Babs gasped, laughing so hard that tears rolled down her face.

"Yes Robin, it was most amusing," Starfire giggled and promptly covered her mouth.

"As fun as it is being scared half to death," Robin grumbled, barely able to conceal the relief he felt that the two were getting along, "I'm assuming that you found something Barbara..." He trailed off, waiting for her to get ahold of her laughter.

"Yeah," she said finally, wiping tears from her eyes, "I found more than something. It wasn't that hard, once I got past the security."

"What did you find Barbara?" Starfire asked, obviously confused.

"I asked her to help us find out where Register took Beast Boy," Robin informed her, then turned back to Babs, "What did you find out?"

"Well, I didn't find out exactly where he would be," she leaned forward and looked at them over her glasses, "But I found out who took him. Well, not exactly who was the guy who actually physically took him from the tower, but I found out who the head of this whole sick operation is...and trust me, it is one sick operation."

"We already know that. Register's the one who wanted-" Robin stopped as Babs shook her head, "Who was it then?"

"You're never going to believe this Rob."


Okay, okay...just-just calm down, Beast Boy drew in a deep, shuddering breath, And think. There's gotta be a way out of this. There always is. Glancing around the room, he couldn't help but think that his optimism would prove fruitless. Shortly after awaking in Register's dingy facility, he'd been drugged and moved to what appeared to be a more financially sound operation. He was firmly strapped down on a cold metal table in the middle of a circular room. The dozens of machines around him were foreign and harsh, looming above him with ominous indifference. The ceiling was domed, and over a dozen bright lights illuminated the sterile room, stinging his eyes. Behind the tinted glass walls he could see dark figures moving, could feel them staring at him, could hear their whispers like a vicious wind. It was killing him, having to wait for what was coming, his mind jumping from bad to worse scenarios.

Alright...I'm fine. At least the Sakutia is taken care of. I'm not going to die...from Sakutia. Being alive is better than being dead, right? I just need to think about this rationally. Rationally. Yes, I must be calm and collected, he could feel himself starting to hyperventilate, and had to concentrate hard on breathing. To calm himself down, Beast Boy began reviewing his options. Register said he couldn't transform into animals, because of the black band around his wrist. He still didn't know what it did, and had no desire to find out. It may stop me from changing, he reasoned, but it can't stop me from fighting my way out of here. He had no doubt that he could take on a bunch of researchers and doctors, and even any security that they'd throw at him. He just wasn't sure if he'd be able to find his way out.

Well, being lost in this building would still be better than being strapped down to this table. Slowly, he began working at the straps that were holding him down. If there was one useful thing that Robin had taught him, it was how to escape a tight situation without being noticed.

After fifteen long minutes, Beast Boy had managed to free his wrists. Now...now he'd have to wait for somebody to come in so he could cause enough of a commotion to escape. Sighing, he attempted to entertain himself by counting backwards from one thousand. He got all the way to nine hundred and seventy eight, and abandoned the idea. Patience had never been his strong suit.

"Can I get some water?" he shouted towards the dark windows, "Or something?" There was no answer, no change in the movement of the figures behind the glass.

"I'm thirsty," he yelled, with more urgency, "I can't breathe!" No reaction. He'd have to call upon some of his long lost acting skills to get somebody in the room with him. He started coughing and gasping for air, throwing in some tears for good measure. Within minutes, three young men that Beast Boy assumed to be research assistants rushed into the room, one bearing water for him. One of them lifted Beast Boy's head up as the one with the water tipped the glass to his mouth. He hadn't realized how thirsty he actually was until the water hit his dry tongue.

"Is that better?" the assistant asked him when he'd drained the glass.

"Yeah, much better," Beast Boy slipped his hand out from the loose restraints and wiped his mouth, "Thanks." Before any of the white-coated assistants could realize what was happening, Beast Boy had slammed the water boy in the nose with the heel of his hand and undone the strap around his hips in one swift motion. He'd released his left foot from the straps before the other two came to their senses and tried to hold him down. He made short work of the first one by slamming the poor guy's head into the hard table. Twisting awkwardly around, he dropped the last one with a swift kick to the face with his free foot. The dark figures behind the glass were now in a frenzy. He'd managed to get their attention.

"Time to bail," he muttered as he unbuckled the strap holding down his right foot and hopped off of the table. It struck him as odd that nobody else had come into the room to try and stop him, but he shook off his apprehension and made his way to the door, prepared to fight.

"I wouldn't take another step if I were you Garfield," Register's voice boomed from the intercom that was placed somewhere on the ceiling. Beast Boy stopped dead in his tracks, the icy voice sending shivers up his spine.

"Sam! I've got to tell you, I was worried you hadn't come with me to this lovely facility," Beast Boy quipped, straightening and trying to see Register through the glass, "I was actually starting to miss you."

"Go back to the table and sit down Logan," Register hissed, his voice cracked and distorted through the intercom.

"Gonna have to go with a no on that one Sam," Beast Boy started towards the door again, "As much as I love our time together, I'd better get going. Robin can get pretty-" Beast Boy choked on the words, unable to finish his sentence. The black band on his wrist was melting, turning into liquid, and seeping into his skin. He desparately clawed at the thick black substance, but it just sank into the skin on his fingers. For a moment, it seemed as though that was all the wrist band would do, and he glared triumphantly at the dark glass and the vague figures behind it.

Then, slowly, deliberately, painfully, he stopped. Literally. Everything, every part of him slowed to a halt. His heartbeat became sluggish, until it was just barely beating. His breaths became shallow, and it felt as though the air he was breathing was made of molasses. Even his thoughts became difficult to process, like he was a five year old trying to understand Shakespeare. He could feel his organs coming to a standstill, his muscles relaxing and failing. He collapsed to his knees, shoulders sagging. There was pain, so much pain, but it was distant. It was a faded, muted kind of pain, almost like a memory. Everything was coming at him through a fog, and nothing quite reached him. He heard a door open, footsteps, but they came from far away. With a tremendous amount of effort, he rolled his eyes up to look at Register. With hazy vision, he saw Register kneel down to be at eye level with him.

"Do you know what's happening to you?" Registers voice echoed through Beast Boy's head, and he had to struggle to grasp the words as the doctor continued, "Do you know what a catalyst is?"

Beast Boy tried to answer. Yes, he did. He'd graduated, taken science classes. Hadn't he? He couldn't remember, nothing was working, nothing was right. He tried to tell Register this, but all that he could do was croak unintelligibly.

"Of course you don't," Register said, and the pleasantry in his voice scared Beast Boy more than anything he'd heard yet, "Catalysts speed chemical reactions. Without them, chemical reactions wouldn't occur, for the most part. The human body is remarkable, Garfeild. It has its own catalysts. Enzymes, they're called."

Through the haze, a single thought surfaced. All he could think was that he'd had a 4.0 in biology all through his high school correspondance, and that he hardly needed enzymes explained to him. He tried to tell Register this, but again couldn't produce more than a squeak.

"Hush boy, I'm trying to educate you," Register snapped, "The device that was on your wrist and is now in your bloodstream, I call the Inhibitor. It essentially prevents enzymes from doing their job, thereby stopping all chemical reactions in the body. If there aren't any chemical reactions in the body, nothing works. Your brain can't function, your blood can't bond to oxygen, your digestive organs can't absorb nutrients. Nothing. Now, in a normal person, that one wrist band would have been enough to kill them instantly. You, on the other hand...you're different." Something in the back of his mind told him that he should be saying something sarcastic to Register, but he couldn't think of anything.

"Because of the rapid chemical changes that occur when you change into a different species," Register continued, "You have approxiamately seventy five times the normal amount of enzymes in your body. You are still functioning. Barely-but your organs are still working enough to keep you alive." He held up a small control. Beast Boy could feel his head drooping, his neck unable to support it. Register grabbed a fistfull of his hair and yanked his head back up so he was looking at the control.

"This was just a warning Mr. Logan," he hissed, "I have enough of the Inhibitor material to kill even you. This control sends a signal to tell how much Inhibitor is released into your bloodstream. I can release enough to incapacitate you...or enough to end you completely." Register shoved him sharply backwards, and he could feel himself falling. Unable to stop himself, his head hit the metal floor with a sickening thud. Register stood and gestured at the figures behind the dark glass to come in. Beast Boy noted with some satisfaction that the three men he'd taken out were still unconcious.

Four new people had entered the room. Two of them grabbed Beast Boy roughly and dumped him back on the table, strapping him in tightly. The other two shoved what looked like a long knee-brace made from the Inhibitor material over his left knee. When they'd finished, the table began to tilt upwards until he was perpendicular to the floor. Coming to stand nose to nose with him, Register pressed a button on the control. As slowly as his body had stopped working, the Inhibitor worked its way out of his body.

It felt like he was being torn apart from the inside. Beast Boy writhed in agony as the black material came out of his skin in clumps, leaving behind small open wounds all over his body. When the process was finished, he was drenched in sweat. His heart was racing, his breath was coming in gasps, his muscles were quivering and his mind was still reeling from the pain, but anything was better than the foggy confusion of the Inhibitor.

"The strap on your knee there?" Register sneered, "It has enough of the Inhibitor to kill you instantly. So I wouldn't be trying any more escapes if I were you."

"And if I were you," Beast Boy panted, as the table tilted back into a lying position "I wouldn't kill my research project."

"We can examine you just as well dead as alive," Register said thoughtfully, "I would prefer an unprotesting subject, but my...employer would rather you remained alive."

"Employer?" Beast Boy asked, trying to see if there was anybody else beyond the windows.

"Enough chit chat," Register said, resuming the sickeningly cheerful tone he'd had before, "Let's get to work." As the other four doctors hooked the young Titan up to machines he recognized were to measure brain waves, Register selected a scalpel from a pile of silver instruments. One of the doctors removed Beast Boy's shirt, exposing a chest riddled with scars from the last time he was in Register's possession.

"Wait," Beast Boy shouted, his heart jumping into his throat as Register turned towards him with a mad glint in his eyes, "Can I at least have a sedative?"

"Garfield," replied the doctor, "What would be the point in measuring your neural activity if you aren't awake?" With methodical precision, Register drew the scalpel along Beast Boy's chest from sternum to navel, leaving a thin trail of dark red blood. Shaking, Beast Boy bit his lip to keep from screaming. Through the tinted glass, he could see a single figure standing perfectly still.

"Your...ungh...employer?" Beast Boy gasped between waves of pain. Register smiled cruely and nodded.

"He is a very...determined man," Register spoke as he began blunt dissection of the incision, "And you are a very intriguing subject." With those words, he spread the incision apart and reached inside of it with two fingers.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Beast Boy screamed at the figure behind the glass, unable to hold it in any longer, "Who the hell are you?"

"His heartrate's climbing Dr.Register," said one of the doctors observing the machinery, "And his neural activity is extremely high. Maybe that's enough for today. We don't want him to go into shock." Beast Boy could hear somebody sobbing, and realized that it was him. He shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to see anymore. Let me die. Please, just let me die, he pleaded silently as the pain increased. Raven...Raven, save me.

"Raven!," Beast Boy's anguished cry rang throughout the room.

"Nobody's coming for you," Register said softly as he began to stitch up the incision, "Nobody."


Raven...Raven, save me. Raven woke with a start, Beast Boy's voice still ringing in her ears, his fire burning through her body, faint, but still there.

"Beast Boy," she whispered, throwing off her covers and racing towards the operations center. Robin, Starfire, and Cyborg were already there, sitting around the table.

"Raven, you have awaken from slumber," Starfire greeted her with her usual enthusiasm, "May the morning be good to you."

"We know who's behind this whole thing," Robin jumped in, eager to start planning a rescue mission.

"And I know where he is," Raven replied.


Beast Boy opened his eyes slowly, shielding them from the bright white light of the room he was in. It was different, smaller, with no windows. He was lying on his back on a soft bed, a large bandage wrapped around his torso. Looking at his wrist, he saw that the Inhibitor was still there. He could feel it on his knee too, waiting to destroy him. Trying to sit up, he was hit by a nauseating wave of pain in his abdomen. He wasn't sure which organs Register had been prodding earlier, but his entire body hurt like hell. Not to mention the pounding headache he had, which presumably had something to do with the tender lump on the back of his skull where he'd hit the floor.

He heard a buzzer go off, and then a voice came from an intercom that was similar to the one in the operating room.

"Good morning Garfield," said the oddly familiar voice.

"Who's there?" Beast Boy struggled to sit up and push himself to the wall, clutching his torso the whole time.

"I am the coordinator of this project and the owner of this facility," came the voice.

"You are one sick son of a-" Beast Boy growled, wincing against the pain.

"Language Garfield, language."

"Who are you? Why don't you show me your face?" Beast Boy shouted. There was a moment's silence, and then the door of the room slid open and a tall figure strode in.

"You?" Beast Boy drew in a sharp breath of shock, "Why?"


Dun dun dun!! (that was very ominous and terrifying...what? It was.)

Okay, I'm giving myself another deadline...let's say two weeks. That shouldn't be a problem:D.

-Liss