Azure: "Vēritās"

vēritās: n. [Latin] Truth.

"Since that period I have never seen nor heard your name without a shiver half of delight, half of anxiety."

—Edgar Allan Poe, in a letter to Sarah H. Whitman

Garfield swallowed nervously as his stomach threatened to eject the burrito he ate for lunch like a vegetarian Mount Vesuvius. Connors had grossly understated—or at least failed to report—just how sick the murder in the library actually was and Garfield was not prepared.

"Smell anything?" Victor kneeled beside him to ruffle his floppy dog ears, but his furrowed brow and rigid posture belied his air of confidence and the gesture was less than reassuring. Garfield could smell the fear hidden underneath his best friend's broad tin shoulders, and it paralleled his own. The honor of being placed on the mission of finding this psycho wasn't going to be enough to stop the nightmares they knew would be coming for weeks.

Someone, at least, had the decency to close the victim's eyes, but, having been strung up like some sort of pseudo-crucifixion and disemboweled, the poor bastard fell far short of the 'could be sleeping' look. Still, Garfield supposed that he would rather not have been under the vic's unseeing scrutiny as he buried his bloodhound's nose in their entrails.

"Do you think, maybe, we're in over our heads with this one?" A little bit of uncertainty had finally seeped into Victor's voice as he raised a cybernetic arm to scan the wall over the body. The blue light cast an eerie glow over the still-wet message hastily scrawled over the body. Garfield's mouth went dry as his eyes traced the long lines of crimson bleeding stark against the ivory wallpaper:

LEST YE DESTROY THE GEM BORN OF EVIL'S FIRE

ALL THINGS MORTAL HE SHALL DEVOUR

There was something hauntingly familiar about the phrasing, but neither boy could nor wanted to put a finger on it. Garfield shifted back to human form to sit back on his haunches. The faint drip-drip of blood sliding along the wall to the floor made the hair on the back of his neck bristle, and he suppressed a shiver. "Whattaya think it means?"

"To tell you the truth? I have no clue." Victor halted suddenly in his survey of the wall, and something terrible and unspeakable lay in the look that he sent Garfield. "H-hey, step back for a second. Does that—does that look like some kind of symbol to you?"

Together they squinted at the red-black slashes on the body until suddenly, the seemingly random incisions started to look like—"Dude, is that an 'S'?"

Raven counted to five, then stepped out of Richard's arms, both sorry and eager to put space between them. His fingers lingered on her arms, trailing her skin with goosebumps, his emotions deafening.

Raven stared at the faint scars marring the skin on Richard's chest and it was a miracle her voice came out evenly. "A talk? Is right now really the right time?"

Richard folded his arms and gave her a look. "We're under house arrest. I think right now is the perfect time."

Raven's eyes danced between Richard and the loft stairs. Escape was only a few scant steps away. "Look, if this is about Starfire—"

"This isn't about her!" he exclaimed, gripping her elbows to keep her in place as she started to edge to the side. "This is about you and me and this—this thing between us!"

"Wh—"

"No, don't speak, and don't you dare try to run–we are going to talk about this like intelligent adults once and for all! You,"—he jabbed a finger in her face—"are driving me insane, do you realize that?"

"Am I?" Raven asked coolly. Richard dropped her arms and turned slightly. Minutes passed before he spoke again.

"I have tried everything I could think of to get you out of my head, Wren," He looked up at her, voice ragged, eyes ice blue and penetrating. "Everything."

Raven blinked at the look he gave her that said that there was something significant at the end of that sentence and she was missing it. Did he mean–?"Are you saying that…with Starfire…?" she asked hesitantly, heart in her throat.

Richard closed his eyes and nodded, grimacing as if their conversation was physically painful. "I thought that maybe…maybe I just needed to…" he trailed off, conflicting expressions flitting across his face. "You know. But I couldn't. What does that mean, Wren? What does it mean that I couldn't do it?"

His eyes were searching hers imploringly, and guilt made Raven drop her eyes to the carpet. Her heart was screaming at her to tell him the truth, once and for all, and Raven was terrified that Richard might hear it.

"I'm so sorry."

"You're 'sorry'? Is that all you can say?" She heard him laugh quietly and when she looked through her lashes at him he was shaking his head. "No. You're not getting off that easily."

Richard began to close the distance between them and horrified, Raven backed away until she hit the back of the sofa and his arms came around to keep her there. Shit. He had her cornered. "I don't get it. What do you want me to say?"

"I want to know the truth, Wren." He was so close Raven could count each one of his dark eyelashes. They were quite long, and up close made Richard seem suddenly fragile. "Is it Roy?" He asked quietly. "Is he what's standing between us? Is anything?"

She swallowed. He was far too close. "What…what would it mean if he—if there wasn't?"

Richard's eyes flicked dangerously to her mouth. "It would mean lot of things."

Raven shut her eyes but they were useless barriers against the onslaught of emotions he was pouring out. She was so deeply jealous of Richard at that moment, of his unique ability to feel each emotion so strongly and so completely—an utterly human reaction that she was cursed to live without. It reminded her harshly that she couldn't give in to the fire roaring in her veins, no matter how much it threatened to violently consume them both.

As she stood there, caged between the back of the sofa and Richard's unrelenting glare, Raven realized two things: that there was no way in hell she'd make it back to the loft now, and that she was, painfully, irrevocably, in love with Richard Grayson.

She could feel him studying her as her heart short-circuited with the sudden knowledge. His heated breath whispered against her skin as he sighed. "Just answer me this, then. Can you look me in the eye and tell me you don't feel this"—he pressed her hand to his rapid heartbeat—"too?"

Raven tried, really, she did. The words were right at the tip of her tongue, waiting to be spoken, but he didn't give her a chance. "Wait," was all the warning she got and then all of a sudden Richard was kissing her.

His voice vibrated against her lips as he chuckled, no doubt hearing her traitorous, thundering heartbeat but everything had ceased to exist around Raven but the sweet, gentle pressure of his lips against hers. She stood there, frozen, as his hands came up to cradle her neck and then, abruptly, it was over.

"You can answer now," Richard said, smirking. Because by hesitating—by not pushing him away—Raven had lost the opportunity to deny him, and he knew it.

She stared up at him breathlessly. Even though the kiss had, in actuality, been pretty chaste, Raven could still feel the weight of his warmth on her lips. She blinked rapidly. "This is—this is stupid. You can't just…and—and expect my heart rate not to go up."

"Sure." His nod was pitying, but his eyes were hungry. "If you say so."

"I do say so," Raven muttered angrily, stumbling across her thoughts, scrambling around for something—anything—to say that wasn't the answer to his question but it didn't matter because he was kissing her again.

Her knees gave and Richard's arms slid around her back easily, holding her upright and pressing her into the back of the sofa at the same time. His bare skin seared hers even through her clothing as he tried to press closer still, like he was trying to become a part of her, or was it the other way around? When had the line separating Raven from Richard disappeared?

Suddenly the way his mouth was moving against hers became desperate, his lips begging for a response. Hesitantly, Raven gave in to him, and as she drew his bottom lip into her own Richard shuddered instantly, the muscles in his torso quivering under her fingers. His mouth parted under hers as he sighed, and that dangerous heat between them woke something up inside of her that burned away all thoughts of restraint.

Well, it did until the sofa exploded.

Raven jerked, as if waking from a dream, and shoved him violently. What in the nine levels of hell was she doing? Was her cover blown? Her breath was coming in short gasps and she found herself blurting the first thing that came to mind. "How…how dare you?!"

Richard sputtered, stumbling backwards at the force of her shove. "How dare I—you kissed me back!"

Raven seethed—she hated him for looking so innocent, feathers from the sofa cushions drifting about his head like a halo. Hated that he was able to pull down her walls so effortlessly. Hated that he was able to shoot straight through to her heart without even trying. "I—I told you that we couldn't do this—"

"Bullshit! You refuse even tell me what 'this' is, Wren!" Richard snarled. "How long are you going to keep ignoring—"

"Stop yelling at me! Just—STOP!" Raven cried, clamping her hands over her ears. She tried to center herself but Richard's heart was just so loud and angry and hurt that she was losing control. The lights flickered and a hum rose in the air as Raven fought to absorb his rage and her confusion and she hated herself for showing him how weak she really was.

Richard's expression softened immediately, and he reached for her. "Wren…"

"Don't. Touch. Me." Raven's voice broke embarrassingly at the end of her sentence, and she stumbled as she rushed to put as much distance between them as possible but ran into the back of the goddamn sofa.

"Wren, I—"

"No, Richard, no more talking—I…My answer…my answer is no," she whispered, and tried to ignore the sound of his heart breaking as she fled to the loft.

"Are you alone?"

Victor glanced around the deserted library and gave a curt nod to the communication interface on his arm. "Affirmative."

"And you're absolutely certain the body was like this when you found it?"

Victor frowned solemnly at the screen. "Yes, sir. All of the photos of the body were taken before the M.E. arrived at the scene, as per your instruction, sir."

Batman sighed, passing a gloved hand over his uncharacteristically exhausted face. "Thank you, Cyborg. You and Beast Boy have done good work today. Alert me immediately if there are any new developments."

"Sir, if I may ask a question…"

"What's on your mind, son?"

"When are you going to tell Nightwing the truth? Don't you—er—doesn't the League think he needs to know?"

"Robin isn't ready yet. That's all I'm going to say on the matter. Batman out."

The interface on Victor's arm went blank, and he sighed, looking back at poor student's body. He trusted Batman, but with all due respect, he wasn't the one who had to watch as Richard slowly went insane. He'd give it another week, and then?

Victor was going to tell him everything.

Starfire's hands shook as she paced the length of her guest suite. Her brother hung upside down from the sofa, chattering excitedly in Tameranian about the murder, and setting Starfire's nerves further on edge than they already were.

"Sister, Sister, what will you do? Will the League of Justice require our help?"

"By X'hal, Brother, will you stop your incessant talking for one moment so I may think in peace?"

"I doubt they would ask us foreigners to step in, anyway." Ryand'r huffed, resting his elbows on the floor before perking suddenly. "Sister! Your betrothed will be asked to lead the investigation, won't he? When shall I meet him?"

Starfire stopped pacing. He wasn't her betrothed anymore, was he? She would admit that she had doggedly pushed for their relationship even when it seemed like he wasn't reciprocating, but weren't all Earth boys like that? Starfire knew she had read somewhere that the harder they pushed, the deeper their fondness ran. …Unless, of course, someone else held their attention. Her eyes narrowed.

"Sister, where are you going? We aren't supposed to leave our chambers—"

"Remain here, Ryand'r," Starfire instructed, already halfway over the threshold. "I'm not going far."

To her credit, Starfire really did think that Raven posed a threat to the safety of the school, so she felt only a little guilty as she knocked on a door marked "Paladin Administrator." in the outer chamber of their suite. "Administrator Shaye? Please, I wish to speak with you."

No answer. Starfire frowned, raising her hand to knock again when the door creaked inward and the official's blonde head appeared in the crack.

Starfire smiled uncertainly. "Oh, I apologize for waking you."

The official regarded her with a bland smile, and oddly it reminded Starfire of the strange earth material called 'plastic'. "Princess Koriand'r, I've told you, you can call me Shaye. What is your concern?"

"If I could discuss this…privately?" Starfire gestured to the dark room behind the official. "It is of utmost importance."

The plastic smile faltered slightly. "Are you sure this can't wait until morning?"

Starfire nodded vigorously. "I am certain."

Shaye frowned and stepped back, gesturing for Starfire to enter. "Very well. Make it quick."

"Yes, ma'am." Starfire followed her into the dark room, squinting in the darkness. "Er…the light…?"

There was a slight whoosh as apparently a candle was lit, brightening the room slightly. Even Starfire's superhuman eyes could barely make out a small bed, a computer desk and a wardrobe in the flickering light. The official cleared her throat, and Starfire's eyes snapped back to hers. "I prefer to keep the lights off this late at night. What on earth is so urgent?"

"I am concerned about a student. They are not who they claim to be."

"Princess, this is a superhero academy. Everyone here uses an alias. Now, is that all, your highness?"

"Is everyone here also female, Administrator?" Starfire asked, ice creeping into her voice. She knew when she was being made fun of. "Is everyone also a witch? It is the truth."

The official made a startled noise. "Are you saying that there is a female witch intruding on the premises? Why didn't you come to me about this sooner?" she demanded.

"Well, that is, I didn't know for certain at the time…" Starfire paused. The air in the room had shifted subtly, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose in alarm as the candle was snuffed out. "Administrator? What…what is going on?"

"Sleep," was the last thing Starfire remembered hearing before the floor rushed up to meet her.

"So, they decided to make the first move, huh?"

"It was only a matter of time before they tracked her down, Alicia—"

"Don't call me that. My name is Byter."

Superman smiled and nodded placatingly. "Of course. My apologies, Byter. Don't blame yourself—"

Byter drummed her fingers against the glass screen, an irritated frown marring her youthful features. She was itching to reach through the screen and wipe that patronizing smile off his perfect Kryptonian face. "I don't. I did my part—I got her in. You guys were the ones who screwed up and hired an axe murdering bastard."

"How do you know it's one of the staff?" Superman sat forward, all traces of a smile vanishing.

Byter picked at her fingernails and slowly grinned as he began to fidget. "I don't just think it's one of the staff," she finally clarified. "I think it's someone on our side. Or at least someone who thinks they are."

Superman frowned thoughtfully, folding his arms. "Explain yourself."

Byter pulled up the image of the bloody message on the wall. "Look at the way it's phrased—it's like a warning of some kind."

"Shit. She's telling the truth." Batman suddenly blinked onto the screen, typing furiously, rapidly pulling up images of past incidents and messages.

"Hello to you too, Bruce. I wasn't aware that you were listening." Superman grumbled under his breath.

"Pay attention." Batman pulled up three different photos—all of them touting the same message—"THE GEM SHALL BE HIS PORTAL"—scrawled in blood, over and over again. "Since when does the Church of Blood want to destroy their precious portal?"

"So...we're dealing with some kind of psychotic vigilante?" Superman sat back heavily. "Do you think we should…do you think we should just…leave it alone?"

"I'm…going to pretend you didn't just say that," said Byter.

Batman said nothing, his eyes narrowed in disgust.

Superman looked between the two of them, blank confusion written on his face. "What? If this vigilante somehow manages to destroy the portal—wouldn't that solve all of our problems?"

"Did you forget that the portal also happens to be an innocent human girl?" Byter asked quietly. "Isn't it your job to protect the innocents? How can you call yourself a hero?"

Batman cut in. "Calm down, Byter. We promised to protect your friend, and we will. Superman's just…trying look at all of our options here—"

"Send me the files on all the staff at Paladin, and I'll have your perp by morning," she snapped, cutting him off. "I'm out."

Roy's eyes shot open as some maniac banged on his door. He groaned and stumbled over to the door. "What the fuck do you want?" he asked into the intercom.

"It's me. Open the door," a distinctly female voice responded and out of shock (and maybe a little bit of hope that it was Raven's voice), Roy complied.

"Shaye? Look, I told you, that was a mistake—I'm not interested."

Shaye smiled and as he tried to slide the door shut, she slipped her foot in the door and suddenly she was inside, pressing herself against him and Roy didn't know what was happening but everything was suddenly going hazy at the edges and why he couldn't feel his legs?

The problem with house arrest was that it had a tendency to get really awkward really fast.

Richard stared hard up at the ceiling as if he could suddenly develop x-ray vision. What was Wren doing up there? Was he asleep? How could Wren sleep when Richard felt like he'd be awake for the next hundred years? He huffed and turned on his side, where his alarm clock blinked 2:58 A.M. at him obnoxiously.

He wet his lips for the thirtieth time that hour, trying to recall how Wren had tasted and failing. It had been a crazy impulse but what had been even more insane was how he had kissed Richard back. Granted, it had only lasted a few seconds and Wren had subsequently flipped his shit but Richard liked to focus more on the positive things in life.

Wren had said that there wasn't anything standing between them, hadn't he? So what had gone so wrong? The sofa had even exploded…however now that Richard thought about it, had that happened because they had kissed or…? Should he take the fact that things often exploded when he was near Wren as a positive sign that he returned his feelings or as an indication that if Richard valued his life he should be running in the opposite direction?

Suddenly Richard's legs were sliding out of bed of their own volition and the next moment he found himself standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the semi-darkness of the loft.

He was on the third step when he noticed that the red glow he'd thought was Wren's reading light or something was definitely unnatural.

Not again.

A/N: Wow Doc Manager gave me hell getting this file in. So if you see any errors, remember, it's DOC MANAGER'S fault, okay? ;)

And it's going to be pretty much nothing but reveals and cliffhangers from this point on, hehe. I think we have about five or so chapters left? I'm sorry for the shortness of this chapter, especially after such a long hiatus, buuuut I needed to cut there. Sorry.

Anyway what did you think of the reveals? I bet you didn't expect to see Byter in this chapter. Who is Shaye? What will happen to Roy and what is that red glow coming from the loft?!

Leave me your thoughts~! ;)