Husky's head hurt. He was dizzy, and his stomach lurched as he opened his eyes and suddenly crashed into full consciousness. Much against his will. It would've been so much nicer to stay floating peacefully in the dark.

Pah. Waking up sick, in pain, and surrounded by darkness. You think I'd be used to this by now.

He was still in the pool from earlier, and honestly didn't remember much after the initial testing. Something had stung him… some strange memories of waking in the pool and watching the two doctors talk about stupid stuff that made no sense. They'd come over to check on him, hadn't they? It was a blur, at least at first. Slowly more coherent memories of the last few hours filtered in to fill in some of the blanks.

Husky cursed the man who'd captured him. The man who'd dumped him in a tank to ogle him. Whose butler had shot him. Whose lady-friend had poked and prodded and threatened. And who had drugged him, AGAIN, and forced him to run through a series of weird tests. And here he was, AGAIN, waking up underwater…

Underwater… He was still in the pool, apparently the same one in that second lab. It felt about the same size, and the tile was smooth under his hands. If he was in the lab, then logically it was dark because the lights were off.

Husky broke the surface, ignoring the throbbing pain over where his thigh would be if he had legs instead of his fishtail. He felt quite queasy at the movement, and a chill from nausea or something whipped through him. He grabbed the edge and rested his head against the floor until the wave passed.

Drugs, drugs, drugs. What was with these people and drugs? All it did was make him sick! He'd rather be in pain.

Well… it did dull the pain. Or perhaps that was from being underwater in his fish-form? He'd been told that, to heal quicker, it was best to stay in the form you've been injured in – but his wound didn't seem nearly as bad in fish-form. Not that he could see it, but it didn't feel raw and burning like earlier. So, either the fish-form changed something, soaking in water had really helped, or those last drugs he was given were really strong.

Probably the last, he thought bitterly, the world spinning and his stomach so very close to rebelling. The tile was nice and cool, but he couldn't lie here forever.

He opened his eyes, which were immediately drawn to a line of light. A doorway. Leading to the hall. A way out. If he could walk.

Oh, please. Please please please please please…

He bit his lip and hefted himself out of the pool, still in fish-form. Only once he was clear of the water did he shift, gritting his teeth from the expected onslaught of pain from his gunshot wound. It came with a thump, but wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it'd be.

Enough to make him sweat. Not enough to make him quit. The pain was probably more from the movement than the form-changing, which was a bit of a relief. It meant he might be able to use his anima to escape… well, if there were any canals or anything around whatever mansion he was trapped in.

He carefully maneuvered his good leg beneath him and shakily tried to push up. His stomach lurched and he leaned his head against the cool floor until everything steadied. Whatever drug they'd last given him was really not agreeing with him or something…

Okay, back to important stuff. Standing's not gonna work. What am I supposed to do, crawl?

He carefully raised his head, his eyes latching onto that slit of light. Possibly a way out. If they thought he was completely out of it, maybe they hadn't bothered to lock it. They'd been so excited about those stupid test results, it was entirely possible they'd forgotten. Especially with Husky 'behaving'. The chance was dismally small, but there…

I have to get out. I have to see them again… His mind drifted off to his friends. The reason he had to escape.

Nana. The annoyingly cute and terrifyingly feminine girl, who would giggle as she cheerfully helped the lady of the house they were staying at prepare dinner. Who would unconsciously stick her tongue out in concentration as she worked on clothes for them to wear in winter. The last time she'd cried in happiness, clutching a small ring he'd given her on the anniversary of the day she'd joined what would become their little family. The furious look on her face after he unknowingly did something particularly insulting to someone. She was the only one to ever scold him, and it was always for a good reason.

His sister. Sometimes a precious little sister to be treasured, teased, and lectured. Sometimes an admirable big sister, full of wisdom and advice. The only girl in the world, the only person in the world, who completely understood him. Even when he baffled Cooro and Senri with his ill-timed tantrums, she would see to the heart of his insecurities…

Cooro. The jokester who'd flown off with him, literally, helping him escape from that cursed circus. The happy-go-lucky idiot who stole apples and other snacks without a second thought, or so it seemed until you spent some time with him. And saw how often those huge dark eyes, glittering in apologetic tears, could shift into victorious glee as he got exactly what he wanted. Cooro was certainly not the naïve innocent he came across as. It had scared Husky when he realized that Cooro had wormed his way so deep into Husky's heart that Husky could only vaguely remember what it was like to be a lonely prince, surrounded by nasty stepmothers and jealous, bullying stepbrothers.

His best friend. His brother. Someone who managed to balance out Husky's rudeness and anxiety, that could laugh no matter how rough the situation and always had a simple solution to even the most complex of problems. Who would always, always manage to be there when needed, no matter how much Husky insisted he wasn't needed...

Senri. The powerful wanderer, fiercely protecting plants for reasons unknown, who had suddenly turned gentle and contemplative as he leaned down to delicately pluck a flower and protectively slip it in his book. Husky would never forget when Senri's blindfold came off, when he was roaring in an insane rage at the sky as his anima tried to take over his mind – then how he froze when Husky threatened to destroy his book. His grey eyes shifting from the book to Husky's face and melting back into the Senri they knew. The time Senri and Husky stood back-to-back, facing down slavers in a battle they knew they couldn't win, as the arrow sticking out of Senri's shoulder attested to.

His big brother. Never before had Husky had someone protect him. Certainly never so fiercely. Sometimes Senri was almost a father-figure, someone he could hide behind without being ashamed. Who would give him a hug, and Husky could relax and return it, as comfortable and safe as he was in his mother's arms…

I have to get back to them. I have to. So I have to get to that door.

He glared over at the line of light.

Fine, fine. I'll crawl. Whatever. Maybe I can pull myself up with the door or something.

Hoping desperately that no one would come to check on him anytime soon, knowing that he cut quite a pitiful figure, he slowly, very slowly made his way to the door. Enduring the throbbing from his leg, only just within his ability to manage, pointedly ignoring the pounding in his head and the nausea when he moved a bit too fast, he dragged himself along with his arms, pushing with his good leg. It was honestly more of a squirm than a crawl.

He finally, finally made it to the door. Using the door as a support, he leaned against it for a moment to catch his breath. Then he reached up and tried the handle, expecting all his efforts to have been for naught. Just as last time.

This time, the door swung open.


It took him precious seconds before the reality of what was going on really clicked in his head and he was flooded with adrenalin.

The door is open.

I can leave.

All I have to do is stand up and walk out.

He reached for the door handle again, this time using it to pull himself upright. It was painful, but he was too excited to pay much attention. So what if his head throbbed and his stomach clenched? So what if his leg wasn't working quite right? He was getting out of here! Right NOW!

Somehow every movement, every breath seemed far too loud. The adrenalin had kick-started his brain, and suddenly he was all too aware of how easily this chance could slip by.

If that Colin guy, or that Meredith lady show up. There's that Yeager guy too. Can't forget about him – the one who messed up my leg in the first place.

He couldn't get caught. He couldn't.

Close the door.

Husky shifted to lean on the wall instead of the door handle. Slowly he pulled it closed, his hyper-alert ears flinching at the slight click as it closed fully.

Move. Get out of here.

One step, two steps, three… Husky slowly made his clumsy way down the hall, leaning heavily on the wall for support, only focusing on one single thought:

Going home.

He made it to the stairs and no one had shown up yet. This was dangerous, he knew. He shouldn't be trying something like stairs, but any way out of a basement floor had to involve stairs. So he had to do this.

It doesn't hurt, he tried to convince himself as he placed his good foot on the first step. He leaned heavily on the banister to keep as much weight as he could off his bad leg, but it still buckled as he tried to shift his weight to climb the stair.

He crashed hard against the staircase.

Hope no-one heard that, he thought fuzzily once the blackness, blurs, and whirls receded from his vision. He stretched out an arm and belatedly realized he was in far more pain than he'd been in on the floor of the lab. But he couldn't think about that now. Couldn't think of how he was pretty sure he'd smacked his head against the wooden stairs, how his arm, strained from grabbing the banister to catch his fall, felt like someone'd tried to pull it from its socket. Nope, not thinking about it. And certainly not thinking about his leg, any more than acknowledging the fact that it was completely useless now. Limping up the stairs was out of the question.

Crawl. I can crawl.

So he did. He crawled up the stairs, keeping his mind blank of anything but getting to the top of the staircase.

And he made it.

He rehearsed in his mind the way out of here. The only way out he was sure of, at least fairly sure of, was through the kitchen. Realizing he had to get out of the hallway quickly, in case someone were to walk by, he crawled into a nearby drawing room to make sure he had a proper plan in mind.

Plus he had to catch his breath, even if at the risk of losing some of the adrenalin pumping through his system and probably keeping him from falling unconscious. He was gasping for breath after the stairs.

Even if the kitchen wasn't the way out, it was fairly close to the stairs to the second floor, and so likely not far from the entrance. And there were dozens of rooms to pass by on the way there. He could hide in one if worse came to worse. They still thought him in the lab. The mansion was huge, but they would know he was looking to escape once they figured out he was missing. He didn't have much time.

Husky sighed and dared look down at his leg. He quickly looked away. He couldn't do anything about that, other than curse the fact that he was leaking a trail of blood behind him that someone was sure to notice. He quickly pulled off the light cotton shirt he was wearing and tied it around the wound, trying to keep the blood from getting all over the shirt and creating a new blood trail.

He had to get out of here. Quickly. The blood led straight to him. There went his hope that they wouldn't notice him gone until they reached the lab.

Husky was suddenly hit by a wave of nausea and exhaustion. He leaned his head against the floor for a minute until the worst passed. When he lifted his head, ready to force himself to make his way to the next room, he blinked uncomprehendingly at the puddle of blood where his head had been.

Oh, crap.

He rose a hand to his head, and it came away bloody. He wiped his hand on the loose shorts he was in, where it hopefully wouldn't rub off on the flooring wherever he had to crawl.

Can't think about it or I'll get sick. Won't think about; can't get sick. Not thinking about. Moving on. Have to get out of this room. Blood trail leads right to it…

He carefully shifted around the blood and started for the door, checking behind him to make sure there wasn't more blood following him. Well, any more than a few spots here and there. He must have other scratches. But they were almost unnoticeable.

Husky made it into the hall and, keeping as close to the wall as he could, keeping all five senses alert for the slightest trace of exposure, crawled onward. After what could've been only about five minutes, though it felt like an hour, he'd barely made it to the third door down from the blood trail.

I'm not going to make it, he realized with dread. His eyes whipped around for something, anything, to give him a few more minutes of freedom. If he could just hide out somewhere until he felt a little better…

That could take days. I don't have days. Have to keep moving.

He made it a few more rooms down, finally almost collapsing in front of some guest room. He crawled into the room and under the bed, cutting back the sobs of helplessness and exhaustion.

He wasn't done yet. He just needed a few minutes. Or so he told himself before again falling unconscious.


Cyborg was relieved, though a bit confused.

Their new +anima friends were human.

Well, at least the tests read that Cooro, Nana, and Senri were human. Obviously not from their world, from certain indicators he only knew to look for thanks to their supercomputer, which was linked with the Justice League's superhero database. Entirely human. Which was actually quite strange.

See, Beastboy only had a percentage of human DNA, and it was severely warped. Cyborg's own blood had been knit with microscopic cybernetic cells, which would mess with any DNA test by an average scientist. Starfire and Raven's tests were very clearly NOT human, though they certainly fell in the 'humanoid' category. Same as Superman and Wonderwoman. And then there were superheroes (and supervillains) like Static Shock and The Flash, turned metahuman by some sort of exposure to a chemical or radiation. And then there were Atlanteans – they were sometimes almost indistinguishable from normal humans visually, but the DNA, again, always gave them away.

So what were their new friends? They only people he could think of that were still human genetically and had super-abilities (or what others may think of as super-abilities) were those with extreme training from a very young age, such as Robin, or those with magical power, like Jinx.

But +anima didn't seem to be anything like that. They didn't fall into any of the categories. Even if an animal imparted a part of itself to a child, as Nana had explained, it absolutely should not promote such extreme physical changes in the recipient. Mathematically, Nana and Cooro's bone structure would have to be adjusted to enable them to fly – and a change like that just cannot happen unless something affected someone on an anatomical level. Same with the friend Husky's being able to breathe underwater.

So they should be metahuman. Logically, they should have either both human and animal DNA, like Beastboy, or they should have a mix of the two, like Wildebeast, or…

They could have both, but only one shows as a time. Like a light switch, the DNA could be on or off. The DNA could be hidden when not in use.

Hidden in the tattoo-like marking every +anima had.

Cyborg looked up at Nana from where he was going over her stats. She had finally given in and let him examine the strangely beautiful, in a gothic sort of way, bat-wings marking on her back. For something that appeared out of apparently nothing when a child became a +anima, it was so incredibly detailed. There had to be a purpose to it.

"What happens if your mark is removed?" he asked.

Her eyes grew wide in shock and she suddenly shivered.

"Scientists do that back home…" she whispered, sounded scared. "It removes your anima. They even graft it onto other people that want to be +anima, but it never lasts long."

He was right! But… "Never lasts long?"

She blinked back tears. "If you weren't the one that was given the anima, it doesn't stay. I saw… I saw one of those grafted +animas fall right out of the sky when it disappeared."

"Of course. They didn't earn it," said Raven's voice from the doorway. She stepped in casually.

"Earn it?" asked Nana, confused.

"You haven't figured it out?" asked Raven gently, without the slightest trace of sarcasm. "You +anima are special. From what you've said, even in your world hundreds, thousands of children die every year. Starve. Are beaten. Are murdered. So why were you children saved? It can't be as simple as 'I didn't want to die', or any child in that situation would become a +anima. It's not as foolish as 'I saw an animal and desperately wanted to do what they could' – or how could that anima be exactly what you needed?"

Nana frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know."

Raven actually smiled slightly. "I've seen it. In you three. And I've felt it in your missing friend. You feel like a fellow Titan. Like a superhero."

"A what?"

Cyborg laughed, getting at least some of what Raven was getting at.

"She's complimenting you," he explained to Nana, patting the small girl's head. "It's a rare combination of personality traits that makes a superhero. That's why you guys feel so at home with us, isn't it? You probably even feel something special when you meet fellow +anima – what do you all seem to have in common? More than just a desire to live?"

Nana looked confused.

"You deserve to live," answered Raven. "Animals can sense things many times people cannot, and apparently the animals in your world exceptionally so. You were chosen because the animals thought you were special, that you deserved to live. That you could, and would, do great things if you were able to live. Maybe not on a grand scale, but great things nonetheless."

Nana shook her head. No, that couldn't be right. They weren't special. They were just lucky.

"What would you do if you saw a small child being beaten by an adult?" asked Cyborg.

"Jump in and help the child," answered Nana without thinking.

"Would Cooro, Senri, and Husky say the same thing?" asked Raven.

"Absolutely."

"With any hesitation? Any at all?" added Raven.

"No. They'd jump right in, no matter the consequences." The girl looked embarrassed at making such a statement, and from the look in her eyes she was probably remember the consequences of a few times they did just that.

"That's what we're talking about," said Cyborg, setting his large hand over Nana's and squeezing as she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Raven, Starfire, Beastboy, Robin, and myself would all do the exact same thing."


Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay and lack of action in this part, and yes I've started on the next chapter. I'll try to have it out within a couple weeks, but I'm afraid I can't make any promises.

I've put a poll up! Everyone, please vote on how far along you feel this story is – the results of this poll WILL impact exactly how I shape the rest of this story to make way for the sequel. I've got about three directions this story can go in, and each one will bring the story to a close in a slightly different way, so be sure to vote! If you don't have an account, please leave your votes in your anonymous review for this chapter. (In other words, please review!) And, yes, I am still (and always!) open to ideas/comments/criticism/etc. Having a couple ideas where to go does NOT mean I am closed off to other options! I am also totally open to ideas for the sequel, for which I must thank 0m3ga's Z3r0. Without her I never would have had the inspiration for the plot!

Um, and just a note about reviewing… this story is my top favorited story by over twice any of my other stories. In fact, it has well over the amount of favorites on all of my other stories combined. But I haven't heard from almost two-thirds of the people who've favorited this. It would be really nice to get even just a two-word review from you all… I love, love long reviews as much as any writer, but I understand sometimes you just don't have the time. If you still can't, thanks anyway for favoriting this and I do hope you find time in the future to drop me a line.

Thanks for reading!