Alright, I have to get ready for a show tonight- so I'm posting this without checking it over, AND while being distracted with other tasks. Silly homework. So that's why this chapter isn't my best work, all the way through. I hope you enjoy it anyway! =D

It was hours before anyone came back. I spent that time, simmering in anger at him. But I tried to be productive about it. I skimmed the rest of the paper before putting it down and leaning back against the headboard. My eyes trailed along the edges of the room, covering as much visual surface as possible. Looking for a way out. There was a glass window, high up but not unreachable. Only it was just thick, solid glass. No way to break or open it very easily. No ventilation systems big enough to get into. Only small vents bolted down tightly. The door was locked and had very tight cracks. No way to get out there without it opening.

For now I stayed in one spot. Just lying on the bed, looking around. I would wait until later to plan an escape. For now I had to wait.

I must have dozed off because my eyes opened with a start at the sound of knocking. It seemed dimmer than I remembered. I looked over at the door, curiously. Who would expect me to be able to open it? The handle twitched and twisted, being unlocked from the outside. Someone new stepped in, who I had almost forgotten entirely in these past years. But still, his face was linked to my memory, now that I saw him again. The smell in the pillows and sheets, they came from when he washed them and no one else.

William Wintergreen came in as casually as possible, being a butler and all. As if I weren't being held against my will. I stared at him for the longest time, not quite sure what to feel. He finally looked up at me, but only for a fraction of a second. Something just below my main field of vision caught my attention. I looked down to see that he had brought me a tray of food. Just when I looked back up to him, he was leaving. I set the tray aside and half stood to reach out and touch his arm, to keep him from leaving me there alone.

Wintergreen…. I tried to sign to him but he avoided looking at me. Of course. Dad probably told him to avoid eye contact with me no matter what. He couldn't even look in my direction to see what I was trying to ask him. Of course I could turn him around and make him look at me. But I just couldn't do that to Wintergreen. He's never done anything to me. I have only fond childhood memories of him. After the incident with dad, even mom still liked him. Or at least had respect for him.

"I understand that you're looking for help at this time. You have to understand I remain loyal to your father. But I'm not helping him just because of that. I know that this will be better for you. I don't want to watch you get killed any more than he does."

He left just like that, and I felt nothing but anger. At him, at everything. Mostly at my dad, obviously. He could never just leave me alone. And now he was dragging Wintergreen into it with him. I hated him for it. I hated him for everything. I forgot about the food for now and stood up. I figured he'd be watching, even though there were no visible cameras. I didn't care. I paced around the room, looking for a way out. There was a panel in the wall that slid open to reveal a bathroom. I hadn't noticed it right away because it was next to the headboard of the bed, behind me. There was a very small window at the top of the wall, next to a vent of the same size. Nothing useful here….

I worked my way through the whole room until I was faced with the door. Looks like my best bet. I knelt next to it, feeling around the edges. If I wanted to fit anything into the cracks, it would have to be very thin. And, guessing that the lock was a good one, it would have to be strong as well. To put it simply, a credit card wouldn't cut it. I stood back up with a sigh. I was about to search the room some more, when my stomach growled. Fine. I'll eat while I think.

I sat cross-legged on the bed, balancing the tray of food on my knees. It wasn't elaborate or anything, just a sandwich, fruit cup, and milk. But still, it was laid out sort of nicely. I felt a little less angry at Wintergreen now. From the way I remembered him… I knew he only wanted to help me, by helping my dad. I couldn't blame him. I knew he would forever be loyal to my dad- his best friend. Dad saved his life when everyone else was going to let him die. Just about the time I was born. It was the reason for my middle name. I decided that no matter what, I wouldn't be mad at Wintergreen for all of this.

But that didn't mean I wasn't going to escape. I chewed thoughtfully, looking around for anything that would fit into the door. I could check the drawers- though I doubted there was anything useful in there. I ate my fruit while I contemplated what might be in the bathroom, if I dug around. I held the fork in my mouth while I thought, unconsciously running my tongue over the prongs and biting them between my teeth. When I realized what I was doing I stopped, and had an idea. I took it out of my mouth to look at it before continuing to eat. I had a plan. Now all that was left to do was wait until the perfect time to execute it.

The rest of the evening went quietly. Wintergreen came back for the empty tray and glass, still not looking at me. I remembered to thank him, and I'm pretty sure he at least saw me sign that. Through the window I could tell it was getting later. I walked around my room some more, pretending to continue to look for a way out. Mostly it was to put on a show, but also because I was bored. Once I had become thoroughly acquainted with every corner, I was plenty tired. I found some pajamas to wear and climbed into the bed.

Hours later, I opened my eyes again. I had no idea of the time, but I knew it was late- or early. Perfect. I put a hand under my pillow and pulled out the fork I had stashed there after my meal. I still thought that there were cameras in here somewhere, so I had to be sneaky about hiding it without the potential of being seen. I knew my dad didn't have much a reputation for sleeping, but I had to hope that if he were asleep at all, it would be now. I slid out of bed and crawled across the floor, stopping to kneel just by the door. With almost nothing to lose I took the fork and tried to stick the prongs into the crack.

Just my luck- they didn't fit. After much effort and wiggling I had to stop. Now what? This was my only idea. I looked down at the fork with frustration, wishing it were only the tiniest bit thinner. I noticed the other end. The handle was flat. Flat enough? I took a deep breath and tried the other end. It took a lot of wiggling and strength to shove it in there, but it worked. I put the handle in as far as it would go. With just as much effort, I worked it up, towards the lock. While trying to break the lock, I almost broke the fork. Eventually I the utensil jerked, and I heard a heavy click. I looked and saw that the door was opened a centimeter wider, the lock broken. I can't help but smile to myself; but I'm not out of the woods yet.

I ease the door open as I stand, looking out. There was nothing but darkness. I stand still for a little while, waiting for my eyes to adjust. After a few moments, I realized this was as good as I would ever see. I take another deep breath, and then move forward one step at a time. I stayed close to the wall, slowly gaining speed. It seemed to go forever, in just one direction. No sooner had I thought this than the wall behind me disappeared- making me suck in a breath out of surprise. I found the wall again and realized that I had just come to a turn. I released the same breath I had sucked in and kept moving.

I heard something behind me and froze. I stopped moving, stopped breathing. At first, there was no other sounds. But then I heard it again- and started running. Dad. Had he known I would escape or what it possible he was in the hall by chance? Either way I needed to get away from him. I turned another corner and saw a door marked "Exit." I could make this. I could out run him just enough. I was going to get away-

A huge force slammed into me from behind, wrapping itself around me and encasing me in its power. I would have fallen face-first into the ground had he not caught us both. Instantly I struggled against him, fighting. But this time there was no escape for me. I kicked and squirmed, as he picked me up and held me against the wall.

"Calm yourself, Joseph…. Let me just talk to you." Needless to say I didn't want to listen to him. I felt more than mad at him for all of this. But when I wouldn't hold still he pinned me against the wall, just like he did in my room the other night. Only this time he was too far to properly kick. I struggled for a moment or two and then finally gave in and held still. He wasn't wearing a mask, so I could see his calm yet stern expression. "Thank you."

I sighed heavily to show my dislike at being stuck like this. I didn't want anything to do with him, and I wanted him to feel it through my eyes. He probably did but showed no sign of it.

"It took you a little longer than I thought for you to get out. I expect that's because you went to sleep while you were waiting. Obviously it did you no good, so I hope you learned from this."

I rolled my eyes to glare in the other direction. Slade held up a vial of something. It was clear but had an unnatural green tint to it. I almost expected it to glow in the dark. I looked at him and waited for him to explain what it was.

"I don't want to have to use this but I will if I have to." Giving in to my curiosity I allowed my expression to change, a little afraid to find out what that was. "It's a chemical compound made specifically to cancel out any metahuman's powers- permanently. I know you don't want to be here but can you really go back to them if you have no powers?"

He was right. I could go back to prove I was alive, but… I couldn't be much of a hero anymore. And if I wasn't a hero then why would I hang around? I would be taking up space. Yeah, I have some fighting skills, but those are secondary to what I can really do. It would be pointless. If I really had no powers, it might be better for everyone to think I was dead. But surely, my dad wouldn't do that to me, right?

"Like I said, I don't want to use it," his voice got sterner, "because of what it would do to you. To erase a super human's powers would be to rewrite their DNA. It's a long, painful process, I can assure you. That's why I will only use this on you if I have to."

He set me down, now that I knew this. I didn't run, as he knew I wouldn't. Which didn't mean I would stay; it just meant I would think about it before running again. Getting caught wasn't an option. I stared up at him, just as angry as before. What right did he have to do this? He was my dad but only by blood. I belonged with my mother, according to the law. Of course, the law also says I'm not supposed to have run away to do hero work, but I did. But that wasn't the point- the point is, he wouldn't get away with this. I was going to get out of here, whole.

"We're going to be leaving," he said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I know. You told me so…. I answered with an attitude. He ignored it.

"Let me finish. In one week, be ready. Have everything packed you'll want to take. Wintergreen will provide you with a suitcase and a backpack. Until then, just be patient."

He nodded his head and I realized that I was "excused" to go back to my room. I didn't want to go back. Why would I? But I knew if I didn't he'd drag me back there himself. Or use that stuff in the vial. I knew that that was a valid threat. He would use it- I could tell. I didn't want to risk that. For now, I just turned and went back to my room, shutting the door behind me. I heard it lock again automatically. I was angry again, as angry as I had been the first time that door shut on me. Pack? Pack what? Nothing in here was mine! I had some clothes, but those were street clothes that he had bought ahead of time. My guitar was at home- smashed in half. Any art supplies I had taken with me when I left home the first time were now in my mountain home. The only thing I had left that was really mine, we the uniform I had woken up it. When I changed into pajamas I had left the old uniform folded on the dresser. I didn't want to part with it, now. It was all I had left.

I picked it up, feeling the fabric. I put it away in one of the drawers. If I didn't get out before we left, then I would take it along. That much, I could pack.

(TT)

Kole's POV

Even with the sun shining bright as ever, today felt nothing but grey. I'd never been to a funeral before, but it was more or less what I expected. Titans South came back from New Zealand, and most other teams stopped by as the day went along. We traveled to another city, to a special place to bury dead heroes. It took weeks to make all the preparations, but Robin was grimly determined. Jericho deserved this. But I couldn't shake the idea that this was all fake. It wasn't just the fact that I wanted to believe he was still alive. It wasn't just that I couldn't let go. That much was true- how could I not feel that way? But there was much more to it than that. I couldn't believe that that was his body- those weren't his hands. I knew his hands, as well as I knew my own. Those weren't his.

I hadn't said anything yet, because I was trying to make sense of it. He had played his guitar for ten years. His hands were marked to show it. How could that disappear in just one night- one night of being dead. It just didn't connect- that couldn't be him.

Still, the day went on. I knew I had to say something. Everyone wore their best, all in black. I didn't own a black dress- I loved colors too much. I borrowed one of Star's, tailored to fit my much smaller frame. I wanted to have a part of him with me somehow, but I had nothing. He had given me everything, starting with his heart. Written songs, and physical gestures of his love. It was all I ever wanted. But none of them were things I could carry with me. They were only in my memory. I almost left, until I thought of something.

I dug in my nightstand drawer, until I found it. A single half sheet of paper, folded up. One day, when the weather was warm, I asked him a question. I asked him what he'd do if he had a voice of his own for just one day. He started listing nice things first, like telling me he loved me and calling his mother. But as time went on and the conversation got silly, he listed anything he could think of, like singing karaoke in a country bar. We were laughing so hard...

He wrote everything down, turning it into a kind of poem for me. Now it was all I had. My dress had no pockets, so I improvised by putting it down the front of the dress, next to my heart.

They kept the lid to the coffin shut, hiding how he looked, all cut up. For heroes, it was tradition to bury them in their uniform, and his covered all the gashes but one- the one across his throat. No one really wanted to see that.

Throughout the whole ceremony I cried and fidgeted. I knew something- and I had to tell Robin. Even when they lowered the coffin into the ground and covered it with dirt, I couldn't believe he was dead. That couldn't be his body. I sounded silly, like a child, but those hands... It wasn't right. Nothing was right.

Afterwards, while everyone was still standing around, I worked up the courage to say something.

"Robin?" My voice sounded awful from the crying. He turned around, and through the mask I saw the concern in his eyes. Everyone was worried for me, which was no wonder. They pitied me every second of every day; sending sorry looks when they thought I wasn't looking. Or even when they knew I was. I would walk in on a group, looking for a conversation, and they would all shut up in a second. Either they had been talking about me or talking about him. I hated it. Even if he really were dead I would hate it.

"Hey Kole." The dreaded sound of pity emanated from his voice. "Are you alright?"

I ignored it and headed straight to my point. "There's something important I need to tell you."

He nodded, willing to humor me, it seemed. "What is it?"

"It's Jericho- I know I'm going to sound crazy but I really need you to just hear me out." At the mention of Jericho's name, he seemed to mentally sigh and prepare himself. I knew he would be willing to console me, but that wasn't what I was looking for. "It's just- the day we went to identify the body… his hands…. Robin, that wasn't him. I know him- I know what his hands feel like. He plays guitar, and he had calluses from it. I know it had his DNA and everything… but I don't think that that was his body."

He looked at me for a second, as if considering from a scale of one to Joker how crazy I was. But then he said, "I believe you. If anyone would know him like that, you would… But there's still no way to know. True, it's very unlikely that his hands and fingers would lose their calluses in just a day, but…. There's nothing to go off of."

I realized what he was saying. "So you're just going to leave it? What if he is alive; and needs our help?"

"I'm sorry Kole. But right now, there's nothing to do. If he's alive, I think he'll find a way to get back, or contact us. If he's dead…. Then let's mourn him now."

With that, he put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and walked away. I stood there, feeling hopeless. I was worried about convincing him I wasn't crazy. I hadn't thought that he would just give up like that. I didn't know what to do. While I stood there dumbly, another hand touched my shoulder and I turned around to face Raven. It was weird to see her not wearing a cloak and hood.

"You're right, Kole."

"What?" I was surprised at how close I was to tears, and quickly blinked them away.

"He definitely isn't dead. I can sense Jericho, and I know he's alive."

"Really? Well- where is he?"

She frowned sadly. "I don't know. He's far away, and it takes time to pinpoint an exact location. For now all I know is that he's alive somewhere."

"Can you find him?" I ask hopefully.

"If he stays in the same place long enough, and doesn't go anywhere else."

I nodded, a little relieved. "Thank you, Raven."

"Kole? I have something…." She held out a hand and I took it, surprised. She pulled me back to the T-Car on the path leading to the grave site. From the back seat she pulled out a large black case, handing it over to me. "I fixed this."

It was a guitar case- I opened it and found his guitar, whole again, and perfect. I admired it with wide eyes, afraid to touch it and have it shatter into a million pieces again. "T-thank you."

"You keep it," she said, "until he comes back."

I wanted to cry again, but I was out of tears. So I hugged her, as tight as I could. She seemed startled, but didn't shove me away. After a second she slowly hugged me back. It was going to be okay. I let go and hugged the case close to my body. It was something to hold on to. It gave me hope and reminded me of him. Somewhere out there, he was alive. And we were going to find him.

So what up with the lack of response on the last chapter? I leave for two months and people start freaking out. I then come back to tell you that Joey is perfectly safe and alive and it's like no one cares? Yeesh, tough crowd. Well I know this isn't much but I hope it gets some response. It's longer than the last one, but still not all that long. I finished this, just now, on the night of the first day of May. But, I won't put it up until the second, because I just got done with a show and I'm too tired to read it over properly, and I have things to do. Plus, I'm mean. Well, please review either way, I'd appreciate it :)