Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans. And you can shoot me now.

Café Devenir

"Less than fifteen per cent of the people do any original thinking on any subject. The greatest torture in the world for most people is to think."

-Luther Burbank

Chapter Eleven

Someone distinct. Someone...I don't know. There's got to be someone. Someone estranged enough to be interested in tragedies.

The paper folder slapped Tim's wooden desk sharply. He stared at it dully, probably wondering why I had brought this particular file to his attention. It was Ryan Anders' file. The sooner we found methods and reasons, the sooner we could catch the murderer.

I sat down stiffly, opening the file for him. Karen and Barbara were in the HQ. It was just Tim and I in the room. He seemed stressed out by something and if I had been in a grumpier mood, I would've let him be, but since I finally made contact with the target, my spirits have lifted and I've become more motivated than ever with the case.

"His name is Ryan Anders."

At this, his head shot up and his eyes widened. He stiffly reached for the paper on his desk.

I smirked. "Wide awake now?"

"How'd you find this out?" he asked, not looking up. I had filled in the missing details on his file. "Ryan Anders, 19…"

"I met him, talked to him even," I answered. "His sister is my friend."

"Really? What's her name?"

I hesitated for one second. There was a danger exposing names on my part. Probably because of my upbringing with Bruce. "Kory Anders."

I saw Tim's ears noticeably perk up. "Kory Anders the astronomer? Specializing in the Vegan Star system?"

"Um…yes?" For some reason, Tim knowing Kory made me feel uncomfortable.

But he only nodded once and never said any more of the matter.

"Wait…how do you know Kory?" I said, images of the night before flashing back into my mind.

"I don't," Tim replied. "I know her sister."

"Hold on…you know Kam Anders."

Tim sighed. "Her sister ran away from home seven years ago. They found out where she was only a couple of years ago and called me, naturally, but they told me not to look for her anymore or tell her they called. Now Ryan Anders, please."

I sighed in defeat. "He lives on Nevermore Avenue with his sister."

"Any details?"

I nodded. "Room 2061. The building just beside Wayne Enterprises."

Tim managed a slight smile. I relaxed. As much as I wanted to drag my feet out of the door and run to the café just to see Kory again, I had to sort my priorities out first and my first priority is the case. Le sigh.

"The papers for Damian's adoption were signed today. Remember him?" Tim casually changed the subject. He reached for the newspaper beside his desk and handed it over to me. "It's on the fifteenth page."

I skipped to the designated page and there it was. Damian's nervous face standing next to his new soon-to-be mother: Selina Kyle.

Damian. It seemed like forever ago when I first met the kid. Calm, composed, and controlled, even after the death of his sister. I wonder what had happened to him during this time. Clearly Selina had taken some interest in Damian. I refused to believe that this was a pure coincidence. Perhaps Bruce had something to do with it.

I couldn't stop staring at their held hands. Selina's slim, catty figure next to Damian's almost-terrified face seemed too out of place. Or maybe it's just the normal case of butterflies in front of the paparazzi.

"That's not all of it," Tim commented. I looked up from the page. He handed me another newspaper. Whilst the first had been The Jump City Times, this new one was called The Jump City Herald. The one that had grabbed the scandal of me seeing naked Rachel. What could they possibly offer me now? "Page 15 again."

I flipped to the page. Sure enough, Bruce hadn't told me of his engagement with – you guessed it – Selina Kyle. Why was she suddenly drawing herself into the picture? Was this why Bruce has become so detached lately? Where had he been at the time Tim needed the Bloodhound for David Cain's sample? Please don't tell me he was canoodling with Selina.

If I knew any better, he probably was.

"It seems your family is expanding to greater lengths," Tim remarked.

I made an affirmative notion with my head, still not looking up from the paper. Selina was dressed lavishly in green, her skinny legs coyly visible through the narrow slit of her dress. Bruce was holding her waist in an almost possessive manner as they walked through the flashes of the paparazzi. They were exiting the Hard Rock.

"Dick?"

I glanced up. "Yeah?"

Tim shook his head. "Nothing. I thought you were having a black-out or something."

I sighed. "Sorry. This…is a lot to take in."

"I understand. I trust Bruce hasn't told you anything about it either."

I shook my head no. "But this isn't mere coincidence."

"Are you talking about the page numbers or the story?" said Tim, leaning forward.

Page numbers, page numbers. Oh, right. They were both on the number 15.

"Well, I was thinking of the story but the page numbers seem odd too," I admitted. "What I mean is, last night Bruce proposed to Selina, and then this morning…she signed the papers for Damian's adoption. It's rather sudden."

Tim nodded in agreement. He was about to make an observation when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," he said instead.

Vic entered the room.

I stood up, more out of shock than out of respect. I had known that Vic was Agent Cyborg but meeting him. That was a different matter.

"Vic," I said in greeting.

He gave me a quizzical look. "John? What you doing here?" he replied, walking over to Tim's desk, who was watching us, amused.

"John?" Tim snorted. "He's not called John."

Uh oh.

"Agent Cyborg, meet Agent Nightwing."

"When the hell were you going to tell me you were Richard Grayson of all people in this damned universe?"

After the awkward encounter at the office, Tim suggested we take it outside. I had borrowed the newspapers to analyze a bit further and then waited patiently for Vic to finish his conversation with Tim. It was about an update on some techy stuff. I didn't bother letting him elaborate. I just shut my ears and focused on the paper.

I knew that I would be spending quite a considerable amount of money on newspapers today, considering there was quite a considerable amount of newspapers circulating Jump City. If the same stories are on the same pages in all the newspapers, there is definitely no coincidence.

Vic finished his report and glared at me to follow him to Starbucks. Because Devenir had Gar and Gar did not need to hear this before Vic.

"Are you going to answer me willingly or am I going to have ta beat you up?" Vic threatened lightly.

I gulped and stared down at the metal table. "I don't know where to begin," I replied truthfully.

"How about the beginning?" he suggested. "From when you lied about your identity to when you were assigned the case until now." He took a sip of his coffee before setting it down on the table, eyeing me suspiciously.

Just then, the waiter called for the 'Boy Wonder'. I face-palmed. Who knew geeks would be managing Starbucks these days?

I stood up anyway to fetch my cappuccino, awkwardly thanking the geek who wouldn't stop staring at me.

I sat back down with Vic.

Sip.

Sip.

"I'm Richard Grayson," I began.

"No shit," Vic remarked. I narrowed my eyes at him. At least let me finish. Geez. "You're the heir to Wayne Enterprises, adopted son of the guy who proposed to the bimbo last night."

OK. That goes too far. Sure Selina sometimes dressed like a slut, but she sure as hell is not a slut. And not a bimbo either. And why am I even defending her in the first place?

"Yes," I reluctantly affirmed. If that's how he knew her, there was no changing it until I get them to meet each other. "I am also one of the people handling Case Hamlet."

It wasn't a creative name, I must admit. But I didn't come up with it. Karen did.

Vic prompted me to carry on with his hand. He took another sip of his coffee. I forgot how that cybernetic red eye freaked me out a bit.

"Um," I unintelligibly murmur. "I don't know what to say next."

At this, Vic sighed, clearly frustrated. "OK. I get that you're Dick Grayson the rich boy blah blah and you're takin' the case with Bee blah blah but what I don't get is why you lied in the first place. So why?"

I closed my eyes for a brief second.

Sip.

Sip.

"Because…" I started, then trailed off nervously. "Because I was afraid all of you would overreact if I told you Richard Grayson visited your café. Because I was afraid of being used. Because of publicity."

We stayed silent, listening to the busy hustling of customers entering and exiting the tiny building, the waiters calling for names that were sometimes weird and sometimes normal, the sipping of coffee, the occasional laughter of a couple of couples, the—

"Famous, huh," Vic finally broke the silence. I turned my head towards him. "So that's why you freaked out when Gar and I called you famous," he elaborated. I said yes. He whistled as he exhaled, making a movement with his eyes…or eye. "Well, what's done is done. Nothing's going to change with a name between us. Everyone else would probably think the same."

By 'everyone else', I assumed he was talking about Kory, Gar, and Rachel. Kory already knew. Gar would probably behave like Vic. But Rachel…I can already imagine her face.

Of course, she's smart. She probably saw it coming. The way she gave an obvious emphasis to my fake name, the weird stares, the 'looking past the shades'. I would be surprised if she didn't have any idea as to who I was.

That doesn't stop me from trembling at the thought of Rachel discovering that the guy she had invited into her home for a movie night was the same guy who saw her naked in the same room.

Jesus.

"Anyways," Vic continued, snapping me from my thoughts. "How's the tech? Tim asked me to tinker a bit with some gadgets for his new 'fledgling'. That would be you."

I laughed tentatively. Fledgling. Only Tim. "They're pretty neat," I said. "Initially they confused me because I was thinking, 'How is Tim seeing what I'm seeing through an earpiece?'" Cue in Vic's booming chuckle. "Then he and Karen explained that you had put in the camera."

He nodded, smiling comfortable now. "It was Bee's idea to put in the camera."

I told him it was really clever. He seemed to relish the praise. I asked him about the report he made earlier in the office.

He waved it off. "Just some updates on a project I was working on," he said nonchalantly.

"What's Tim got to do with it?" I inquired, taking a sip.

He shook his head. "Confidential." And winked.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course."

We finished our coffee and headed back into the building. After acknowledging each other with a mutual understanding, we parted ways. Me, heading back to Tim's office to discuss more on Ryan Anders, and Vic heading off to do what he does best.

Seems Tim already beat me to it.

As soon as I opened his door, the first person I saw was Karen and a stack of newspapers on the floor. Tim was crouched on the carpet, laying out the individual newspapers one-by-one. Systematically. Oracle watched on, noting down the name of the newspaper and which page number the Selina Kyle stories were on.

I entered the room, closing the door behind me as quietly as I could. Tim looked up and waved tiredly.

"Great minds think alike," I said, crouching down to help him. The Jumping Sun, Jumper…Jesus, he's got every damned newspaper in Jump City. Every single one of them. "How much did everything cost?"

Tim shook his head. "Already taken care of, don't worry."

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't worrying per se.

"Nice to see you, Nightwing," Oracle greeted, extending her arm towards me. I leaned forwards to take it then returned to my original position. She smiled awkwardly. Awkward.

"So what do you have?" I asked to break the tension. She relaxed and showed me her notepad.

I scanned the list, noting that some stories were posted on the third, fifth, sixth and ninth, and sometimes the fifteenth page. There couldn't possibly be a correlation unless…

"Six and nine add to fifteen. Three and five multiply," Oracle explained. "Fifteen."

I tapped my chin in thought. Tim crawled closer. Karen was still laying out the papers, searching for something that broke the chain rather than continued it.

"I can't think of anything notable associating with the number fifteen," I admitted, shrugging. "Tim?"

He shook his head no. "Fifteen is unusual. I guess they wanted to break from the cliché of unlucky thirteen. That, or…I don't know, something else."

I restrained myself from laughing. Detective Timothy J. Drake not knowing. Wow.

"Luckily, I have a few suggestions," said Oracle. All of us looked at her, incredulous. She smiled. "OK, guys, it's rude to stare."

Tim stood up, I followed after, taking the seat in front of his desk. Oracle wheeled herself closer to the desk too. Karen took the seat opposite me.

"By the way, Bee," I started. "I met your boyfriend today. Or…'officially' met him…"

Karen raised her eyebrows. "You met Vic? Why?"

I shrugged. "I met him before. Just not as Richard Grayson…"

Tim cleared his throat. "Let's get to the matter at hand, people."

We nodded. Oracle passed the list over to Tim who scanned it quickly. "All plausible," he commented.

Oracle quickly elaborated. "It could refer to a lot of things, really. Like the number of floors in a building, a quarter past or a quarter to, the first point in a tennis match, the corresponding number to one of the tarot cards, which I fail to remember, or, if broken down, represents A and E respectively. Accident and Emergency, etc..."

Brilliant. And all plausible. Wayne Enterprises has fifteen floors, a quarter past three or a quarter to four could be the timings of a robbery, a bombing, a murder… A tennis match was coming up in a few days. Tarot cards. The hospital.

"We could search online for other mythical or ancient symbolism for the number fifteen," Oracle continued. "But I think it isn't necessary to go back that far."

Tim nodded. "I agree. This is adequate information. Nightwing, maybe you should meet with Ryan again…test him if fifteen means something to him."

"W-w-w-w-wait," Karen interrupted. "Hold up. Who is Ryan?" Tim passed her the file. She opened it, eyes widening. "You've met Ryan Anders? He's been identified?"

"Yes and yes," I answered. I turned to address Tim. "I can't really meet with him so soon. It'd be…weird."

"Fine," Tim relented. "He's in our care now. At least, secretly." Karen nodded in confirmation. Oracle too. "For now, maybe get some more info from Bruce about Selina Kyle. Whether you like it or not, her being involved in both stories make her suspicious. She needs to be investigated."

I sighed. I kind of liked Selina. Even if Bruce never admitted it, Selina had a positive effect on him. She was fun to talk to, like an older sister. She even gave me counselling on my first bad break-up. But work is work. No-one is safe.

"Understood," I affirmed, leaning back on the chair.

"OK," Karen drawled. "So this Ryan guy. What now?"

"Kory said he's in with the wrong crowd," I commented.

"Who is Kory?" Oracle inquired, my hyperawareness detecting a hint of disappointment in her tone. I was more or less confused by this.

"His sister," I replied. "Which leads us to believe that either Ryan has some gang troubles or Ryan knows something he's not supposed to know and that's why he's in hiding."

Karen agreed.

"But," I added. "When I met him, he didn't seem like the type to commit any sort of crime. He's just a normal teenaged kid who likes watching Game of Thrones."

"We can't take any chances," Tim remarked. "Just because he seems normal doesn't shake the fact that he might be involved in some sort of conspiracy or 'gang trouble'."

Trust Tim to be suspicious of everything. Trust me to be too trusting. Christ, I only met the guy for ten minutes and I'm already defending him.

Oracle took down some notes, scribbling furiously on her pad. After she put her pen down, she excused herself from the room. We stared after her as she wheeled herself out, turning a sharp corner at the corridor and disappearing out of sight.

I wonder what got to her. I won't have long to find out, yes, but still. In such a hurry, one would think she was onto something.

I wouldn't call this Break Time or anything since it's still three in the afternoon but it's still a break from all the thinking we had to do all afternoon.

Besides, Break Time = Devenir Time. And we all know what that entails.

Disappointment.

As soon as I arrived at the café, there was no sign of my fire-haired beauty anywhere.

Gar bounded up to me, leaving his seat at Rachel's opposite. "Hey, John!" he greeted. "The usual?"

I nodded, trying to mask my disappointment. Gar disappeared off into the kitchen. I'm guessing Vic was still at his other workplace, leaving Gar to do all the cooking up. By the look Rachel gave me, I don't think I should invest a lot of trust in his skills.

I took the seat opposite Rachel. Just like last time, she was reading a thick tome. Maybe I should ask her about Hamlet.

I cleared my throat. She looked up, bored. "Do you, uh, do you know anything about Hamlet?" I asked. Stupid question, Grayson. OF COURSE SHE KNOWS HAMLET IT'S HER FAVOURITE FREAKING MOVIE.

She nodded slowly, wondering where this was leading to. Thankfully she put the book down.

"I was just…I don't know. Wondering about this Hamlet quote. You know, the one he uses in his monologue," I explained vaguely.

She raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm just asking."

"You don't seem like the type to be interested in Hamlet."

Bingo.

I grinned. "So what is the type to be interested in Hamlet?"

She studied my face for a second then consented. I breathed a sigh of relief. Mentally, of course. Mentally.

"People like me," she said. I deadpanned.

Rachel smirked in amusement. "A serious answer?" I nodded. "Well…someone who has an obvious taste in tragedies. Anyone could like Hamlet, but only someone who had studied him actually knows his character. And to study something, you have to be at least a little interested in it. Studying willingly, of course.

"Academics, maybe. But most academics look at it logically. Sure, the creative side could be embedded in the logical aspect of it. It just depends on the person. Take me as an example. I like looking at it from a logical, systematic perspective, but I can't help involving a little imagination in it too. Imagination basically takes up a lot of my theories.

"What I mean is, someone who knows Hamlet, both the character and the play, needs to be someone…weird. Distinct. Like maybe a collector of sorts. I don't know."

"That…was the longest I've ever heard you talk for the fourteen years I've known you," Gar cut in, placing a scorched cake in front of me. Uh…yum?

Rachel flushed slightly, whether she was out of breath from saying so much or from Gar's comment I don't know. "We haven't known each other for that long," she replied, feigning indifference.

Gar scratched the back of his neck timidly. "Well, I guess if you cut out five years or so…" He took a seat next to her. "Nevertheless, we have been in each other's presence for nine years."

Rachel muttered something incoherent whilst I continued to stare down at the scorched cake. Should I reject it and offend Gar, or eat it and possibly die from either gagging or food poisoning? I'm not so sure.

"Don't worry. Gar's too thick to actually be offended by something like this," Rachel pointed out.

Gar made a face. I snickered.

"What're you reading, Rae?" Gar changed the subject.

"Didn't you ask me this when I walked into the café?"

I raised my eyebrows. Gar's cheeks tinted pink slightly.

"Y-Yeah well, maybe John's a b-bit curious too. I was only asking f-for him," he stammered. I chuckled, leaning back on the seats. I found myself staring at the ceiling, mesmerised by Kory's handiwork.

"It's A Feast for Crows, by George R.R. Martin," Rachel monotonously replied. "Ryan recommended it."

My head snapped towards her at the mention of the name. "What about Ryan?"

Gar raised an eyebrow in question. "Kory's little bro. I thought you two went on a date together. You would've met him."

"Yeah we did, I…I was just…curious." Oh, dammit. Why are you so fucking lame, Grayson? Who would buy that?

"Oh," said Gar. "Well, he likes reading war stuff. Political intray? Intruth. No, like…"

"Intrigue," Rachel added. "He goes to my college. He's a smart kid, just a little estranged."

"In what way? The kind to like Hamlet?" I fired the questions at her. She was overwhelmed, to say the least.

"He hates Hamlet, actually. One of his few flaws," Rachel answered, a bit weirded out by the way I was being too curious to be just curious about Kory's brother.

Gar furrowed his eyebrows at the situation. "Am I missing something here?"

I shook my head at him. "It's nothing. I was just curious. I swear."

Rachel rolled her eyes. Gar seemed to be deep in thought. I saw Rachel sneaking a glance at his face and inwardly smirked. She must've sensed the rise in smugness in the atmosphere and turned to glare at me.

"Hey, Rae, do you remember Kory's ex?"

What. The. Shit.

Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Someone like Kory was bound to have some history with guys. She can't stay single for seven years unless…oh, right. I forgot about the one history. The one reason she ran away from home and ended up here. I doubt she would've let any guy approach her after that. But seven years is a long time…

"Dude had some issues, I tell ya," Gar continued, ignoring my flabbergasted expression. "Obsessing over Hamlet and stuff. He made a move on Rae at first because she geeked over the same things he did. But when Rae kept on rejecting him, he resorted to Kory."

The way he made it sound as if…never mind. Her ex has now piqued my interest.

"Anyway," Gar said, moving on from the topic. Damn, I missed my chance. "Why don't you come over at my pad sometime, John? I finally got a Gamestation 5 and, bonus point, Kory painted the ceiling…" he waggled his eyebrows at me.

And when one door closes, another door opens.

"You guys all have painted ceilings?" I asked.

Rachel and Gar nodded. "Kory even did this special coding where your deepest darkest secret in 'written in the stars'," Gar whispered loudly. "I got mine, Rae's got hers, Cy's got his, Kory too. Even the café's got Devenir written across the ceiling."

I nodded. "Yeah, I noticed."

"I bet you would," Gar winked. "You've been staring at the ceiling for longer than you've been talking to any of us."

I chuckled nervously. "So…what have you guys got written up there?"

Both of them shifted uncomfortably. I noticed the fleeting glance Rachel shot at Gar. And Gar's brief stare back when she wasn't looking.

They looked like a couple of middle-schoolers. Christ, this was awkward.

"I'll throw the cake away," Gar excused himself from the table, leaving me with an embarrassed Rachel.

"Don't worry," I said when Gar was out of range. "I won't say a word."

Rachel nodded in appreciation.

"One question," I leapt at the chance. "Do you perhaps know of the tarot card that corresponds to the number fifteen?"

Rachel's electric violet eyes widened. "The Devil," she answered, taking out a slip of paper from her tome. "It's my bookmark."

A/N: I was resurrected from the Lazarus Pit. I'm so so so so so so so sorry this came way too late. I just hope I haven't lost you guys yet... Um... exciting (weird) stuff is coming up... and foreshadowing... and read the story summary again because it basically tells the whole story. And the anecdote at the beginning of chapter one. Yeah, basically, the mastermind differs from the killer.

Review, please? Have a nice day/night/afternoon! :)