It took a few days for Dick to heal completely.
Now, that… wasn't really a complaint. An injury like the one Dick had received likely would have required a much longer recovery time for any normal person, if they survived the surgery to save their life. Having taken the last few days off (to the relief of the rest of the Titans, who didn't know he'd been injured, but thought he'd been too high strung lately anyway), he couldn't help that antsy feeling rising in his chest. He'd secretly been doing some more research into this… Slade character, but nothing had come out of it.
Dick had not checked the time before he'd left his room, but he figured it must be early by the way the sun was peeking over the horizon through the windows in the living room. Another clear sign was that Cyborg was the only one there, working on something on the Titan computer. He looked up with Dick's footsteps, and stood once he grew close.
"Nice to see you out of your room! What are you doing up so early, man?"
"I just.." Dick sighed, pushing back his hair a bit with a hand, careful of his goggles, "-Needed some... air. I'm tired of sitting around."
"Honestly, I don't think staring at all the little clues that Slade left behind is helping you get any closer anyway." Cyborg clasped a robotic hand on Dick's shoulder. "How about we go on a walk, get some real fresh air?"
"But what if-"
"If there's an emergency, we can always meet the rest of the team somewhere else. Besides, you look like you need to walk around a bit. After that, we can find some food."
Dick sighed, not able to argue that.
The walk around the city calmed that jittery feeling a bit, and by the time the sun had risen to a reasonable point in the sky, both him and Cyborg mutually decided it was probably late enough to get some food somewhere.
Being raised in Gotham, especially under Batman of all people, Dick was always, always , looking for anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't something that could ever be simply turned off. Many times, there was only the smallest indication of something being off before everything went pear shaped. But a small hint was all he needed. That much, Bruce had always made clear.
There wasn't much lead up. Waiting for a hot dog from a vendor was usually pretty mundane. The young woman in front of him couldn't be older than 25, blonde hair cascading over her back in waves with her perfectly manicured fingers clenched around her black purse. Her hands slightly shook, despite her fingers being so tight they were a bright white. Dick already was watching her carefully when she began to sway, and fell to the concrete.
Dick immediately went into crisis mode, kneeling at her side in less than a moment. Her skin was clammy and warm, and the thumping beneath his fingers when he felt for her pulse was far too fast. The obvious pain across her face with every struggled breath didn't bode well. The signs were too obvious to miss, especially someone as experienced as he was.
"Cyborg, call 911!" he ordered immediately, not even turning to check if his instructions were followed. Truth was, Dick didn't trust a cop as far as he could throw them, but this woman needed emergency care, now. Luckily, this wasn't the first time he'd ever seen a drug overdose. They were rather common in Gotham. However, as he knew, Jump City didn't have much of a drug problem… Though that was a problem he could consider later.
Luckily, Narcan was not only a medication that had a very stable shelf life of three years, but also able to be kept at room temperature. It was for that reason that it was possible for him to keep a single dose in his belt at all times. As he'd done many times in Gotham, he expertly plunged the needle into her arm. The effect wasn't instantaneous, but gradually her breathing and body lost their tension… and the hand that was around the purse relaxed, revealing a small plastic bag with a minute amount of white powder gathered at the bottom corner. He had time to carefully pick it and begin inspecting it when the flashing lights of the ambulance (and unfortunately, a police vehicle) got close enough to be seen.
He kept the conversation curt with the cop that arrived alongside the ambulance. It wasn't like Dick was able to really give much information anyway, besides the small bag he'd keep for evidence. He wasn't going to give them anything they'd just lose. However, the cop was able to tell him something important, almost as a passing remark.
Dick stared at the retreating ambulance as it drove away, crossing his arm with a frown.
"You seem used to this," Cyborg commented with a frown.
"Yeah," Dick sighed, pushing back his hair with a hand, "-in Gotham it's… well, there are a lot of people stuck there because they have nowhere else to go. It's really easy to have a bad life there, and when you have nothing going for you, it's easy to get desperate…"
"..So they turn to drugs," Cyborg finished grimly. Dick only replied with a nod.
"The strange thing is, I did my research before I came here. While they did have problems with minor supervillains…" Dick frowned as he turned to the small bag, "-there was no evidence of drug issues."
"Until now."
"Yeah. The cop told me they're had seven cases this week of this very thing happening… and it's only Tuesday."
"We need to get the rest of the Titans on this." Cyborg preferred being lighthearted, but he always knew when to be serious. It was one of many reasons why he was the de-facto second in command, when needed.
"You're right," Dick agreed. "I just hope I'm wrong about this."
"Drugs… are medicine, correct? Then why is this a problem?"
A migraine was already forming behind Dick's eyes.
"It's…" He sighed, rubbing his temples. "These kinds of drugs are bad for you, Star. People get addicted to them and sometimes do bad things to get more. Sometimes they take too much and die."
"That is unfortunate! Why do these 'drugs' even exist if they cause such pain!"
"Listen, I'll explain more later, okay, Starfire? Right now we need to focus on how we can stop this from happening here in Jump. Raven, have you found anything we can use from the bag?"
"The composition of this is nothing unusual." Raven frowned as she levitated the bag. "Just Polyethylene-Low Density. Whoever bought this probably just went to the store."
"Great," Dick muttered, fists clenching. "So we have no leads then."
"What are we supposed to do now?" Beast Boy questioned frustrartedly, crossing his arms as he laid back on the couch.
"I didn't say we had nothing." Raven stood and walked over to the computer, typing quickly. A list of components came up, each with a different percentage listed next to each component. The weird part was there was one Dick didn't recognize the name of… and it made up ten percent of whatever had been analyzed.
"There were remnants of what was left in the bag. It wasn't much, but enough to see what it was made from. You were right, Robin, it's meth, but… there's something else too. The computer had a lot of trouble identifying it, but eventually... It's an experimental drug called Ciprein. It increases a drug's potency and makes an overdose more likely."
"That sounds dangerous," Cyborg replied with a frown.
"There's no way it can't be," Dick mused. "But something like that has to be highly regulated, doesn't it?"
"Yes. There are two labs in Jump City that are authorized to use Ciprein." Raven pressed a button, bringing up the map of Jump. On the far left side of town, so far it was near the boundary of Jump City, was a bright red dot. "And only one is actively using it."
"Then we know where to go next."
Whatever Dick had been envisioning, it wasn't this.
Though technically within the bounds of Jump City, the location of Rose Grant Labs wasn't exactly prime real estate. In contrast with the pristine outside of the building, the land surrounding it was dull and barren. There was various trash everywhere, a mostly hidden parking lot (as it was on the back and side of the building), and a single neglected road to and from the lab. There was not much else to see. As he put the helmet of his motorcycle onto the seat and met the other Titans, the unease between all five of them was palpable.
"Why is everything so… unpleasant here?" questioned Starfire, frowning as she levitated a bit higher.
"There was a chemical spill about twenty years ago," Dick explained, kicking at the loose soil absentmindedly. He'd always been in the habit of doing at least some courtesy research about anything of note, especially about areas he spent lots of time in. "It seeped into the soil. Nothing grows here anymore."
"And I don't have to be a dog to tell you it stinks here!" Beast Boy complained, sticking out his tongue for emphasis. God, he was so young, wasn't he? Truth was, he was probably a bit too young to even be part of their team, but Dick knew better than to take that away from someone who he was fairly sure had no place else to go. Besides, it wasn't as if he wasn't helpful… and Dick had been much younger when he started anyway. But now wasn't the time to think about that. It wasn't like he'd make any delicious off that line of thought anyway.
"Calm down, Titans, we're not here for that. Let's see if anyone's home ."
Once they got closer to the building, an uneasy feeling fell over Dick's shoulders. Even close, this building was just… too clean. It didn't help that now that the parking lot was more visible, there were only two cars: a beat up, dark blue sedan, and a still shiny U.S. Postal truck. Dick immediately glanced around to see the driver, and landed on a young hispanic woman who seemed headed back towards the truck. About five feet from him, she stopped abruptly.
"You're the Teen Titans, right? What are you doing around here? Hate to tell ya, but there's not much out here…"
"Do you deliver here often?" Dick asked, completely ignoring the question. It was best to not get civilians involved, in his experience.
"About once a week," she answered with a shrug. "Look, I don't know much. The packages don't really say anything on the outside. I just drop them off and leave."
"You haven't seen anyone here?"
"No, sorry. I've been delivering here for two months, and you're the first people I've seen here."
"Thank you. I'll let you get back to your job." Though her face showed confusion, she must have decided it wasn't worth asking, because she then only nodded and proceeded to her truck. It was only when she had exited the parking lot that Dick proceeded towards the doors.
"Something isn't adding up," Raven stated plainly.
"This isn't a normal lab. We need to be careful," Cyborg agreed.
It was clear that Dick wasn't the only one that had a really bad feeling right now.
In the end, he just nodded before motioning forward, towards the door. Raven silently moved forward, fingers pulsing with her power as she touched the keycard reader. After a surge of her black power, it clattered to the ground. Dick stepped forward and grabbed the door handle. The door now opened without a fuss.
The long corridor from the door to the actual building felt a bit… unnerving. The tension in his muscles just seemed to increase as the bright lights and clean floors slowly began to be replaced by flickering, sometimes completely broken bulbs and increasingly broken tiles and random trash.
The single room with discarded gloves, masks, paper, and other trash everywhere was… not entirely unexpected after the long walk. Neither was the somewhat disheveled scientist, furiously scribbling something down on the back of a coffee stained piece of paper. His head shot up at the sound of the Titan's footsteps, revealing a pair of cracked glasses.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, pushing a button on the underside of his desk, probably not as inconspicuously as he intended.
"I, uh… wasn't expecting visitors. What can I… do for the Teen Titans."
Dick frowned, glancing towards a nearby table with what had to be hundreds of… small, familiar looking bags filled with a white powder. Saying nothing but letting the seriousness of the situation bleed into his expression, he practically stomped towards the scientist and grabbed him by the collar.
"Who are you working for? What do you know? What's the point of making people overdose?!"
"Look, I don't know anything!" The man whined, flailing his limbs pathetically. "I just do the work and take the cash, okay?! Don't even know his name!"
"Come on, you really don't think I'll buy-"
Dick was cut off by the loud sound of glass breaking, and he barely had time to duck as a throwing knife whizzed by his head. His grip loosened, and his target slipped from his fingers. In his panic to escape, his elbow knocked off a clear, unlabeled liquid, followed by a bunsen burner. It instantly lit, further fueled by the random junk thrown about. The sudden flames illuminated the still, unmoving faces of the (at least) twenty five men (robots?) that had suddenly entered the room. In the front, arm still extended from throwing a weapon, was a man dressed in all black. Between the black fabric hood and lower face mask, was a pair of dark goggles. Not… unlike Dick's own.
"Titans, go!"
Immediately, they all leapt into action.
While (presumably) the man's lackeys seemed to give Dick a wide berth and kept the other Titans busy, their leader pulled out a bo staff and leapt towards him. Dick quickly pulled out his own and blocked the other's attack.
"Robin," the mysterious man greeted as their weapons made contact, several seconds passing as their weapons grinded against one another, "-we meet at last."
"Who are you?!" Dick shot back, ending the stalemate by pushing the man away with his true strength. It wasn't until the other jumped backwards that he realized what he'd done.
"Ah, so this is what you've been hiding," he mused, head tilting to the side. Dick grit his teeth, saying nothing as he charged towards the other once more.
For a few minutes, Dick didn't, couldn't have noticed the fire or how the other Titans were doing. It was only the almost even match (as Dick had gone back to using his 'normal' strength) that consumed him, the way their staves made contact again and again with a loud clang. Some part of him knew that the other was holding back as well. This was just… evaluating each other, with almost a spar. But it was still a fight, in the same breath. Eventually, however, in a move almost too quick to see, the man pinned him against the wall by the neck.
Dick struggled against the man's bo staff, hands trembling with anger. The pain, the slight lack of air, the small bubble of panic forming against his chest- it all meant nothing. I will not lose to you . But he also couldn't get away without-
"Is that all you've got? Where is all that strength from earlier? You won't get anywhere holding yourself back."
Dick gritted his teeth, biting back a retort as he aimed a kick at the man's face.
Though not much more effort than before, it was enough for his enemy to fumble. Without a moment to spare, Dick blindly grabbed forward in an attempt at unmasking the other. The fabric gave under his fingers, and he only got a glimpse of metallic orange before a foot made contact with his chest.
"You little-" The man glanced at him one last time, growling in anger before taking off. Dick tried to jump up as well, only to wince at the feeling of his cracked ribs. The delay was enough that by the time he glanced up, there was no sign of the man. He glanced around wildly for a minute, hands (one still holding the fabric) clenching as failure settled uncomfortably between his ribs.
"...Slade," he murmured, frowning.
"Robin, we have to go now!" Beast Boy yelled, tugging at his arm. "This place is burning up!"
"Wait, I-" Dick shrugged him off. The eyes glowing gold beneath his goggles unflinchingly scanned the burning building for any trace, despite the searing heat. I'll just heal quickly anyway, right? It doesn't matter if I stay for an extra-
"No time!" It was Cyborg this time who grabbed his other arm. Shrugging him off compared to Beast Boy would be far more suspicious considering the strength difference. Even in his obsessive state, protecting his secret was always top priority. Gritting his teeth, he allowed Cyborg to half-drag him towards the exit.
It was only when they'd finally made it outside that the smoke in his lungs started clogging up his throat. He hadn't even had the slightest cold since his fourteenth birthday, so it was a bit disorienting to find himself coughing so hard he was nearly doubling over. The coughing fit ended within less than two minutes, at least. Once he'd regained his breath, he turned his attention to the burning building. His hand tightened around the fabric still in his grip as he silently watched the flames lick the sky.
"You gotta be more careful, man," Cyborg murmured, crossing his arms as he joined his leader.
"I'm fine," Dick replied flatly, before turning. "Let's go. There's nothing left here. All the evidence has probably already burned away, and there's nothing near to catch on fire." Despite the protests of his team, despite his aching ribs, he knew he had a lot of work to do.
I have to stop him. Things will get worse until I do.