Jan. 10, 2005

I edited the first chapter; I had better ideas going…and littlelanie121 was right about how confusing it was. Hopefully things will be better understood.

Now before I present chapter two… I'd like to say thanks to those who reviewed. It rhymes!

I don't know: A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but if Garrett really bothers you, then I'll use Gar. Garrett is this really intelligent and funny guy and by using his name it helps me to not lose his personality. Besides, I need to make Raven a real person, at least hide her from public… to make her at least someone we can relate to. I don't have the original comics, but it's nice to have an update from you.

TitansFan: Hey you're really right about that. Don't worry, this story isn't centered on BBRae, but on every character I know from the TT show (I can't get the comics here… the original must be really good). The only reason why it begins with these two characters is because the Titans have lost contact with each other after high school and are coming back together, graduating from separate colleges several years later. It would probably be more terrifying if Raven overheard BB's plans. Please bear with me, for that I know I'm not so talented a writer.

My intentions, I'll reveal some now. One is to shock people, two is to make Cyborg and Mammoth better loved characters from the show. I think I revealed a little more than I should…but I hope I'll manage to achieve that!

P.S. Star is going to appear much later (Chapter 4 is what I have in mind, I'm so excited!!!), but the story will unravel itself when time comes… stops here before revealing anything else.

Littlelanie121: I'll try my best (although it doesn't guarantee a thing).

SeaFlit: I will NOT let you down. Thank you for your support!! sob

Moving on… to chapter two!

"Who's there!?"

Gar stormed out of the room, his arm fully extending, slamming the door against the wall in 180 degrees… only to be greeted by the eerie pitch darkness of the hallway. All he could see was his lengthy shadow spreading out ahead of him, stretching to the exit on the opposite end of the hall.

Before he was about to lay a foot away from the room, he picked up an aroma with his keen sense of smell. He stopped to recall what the lavender incense discovered in the air would remind him of, for it wasn't something totally foreign to him.

Then he saw something glitter on the floor beside him and knelt down to investigate it. Along with the jewel-like dew drops was a thread of light. Gar reached into the pocket within his cloak and gently picked it up with a pair of tweezers. He held the sample at the light of the room.

It was velvet strand of violet.

5: 42 PM. Afternoon equals rush hour equals traffic jam. Richard Grayson was getting rather impatient and started to tap on his steering wheel. The imprudent horns surrounding him blasted, drummed, and pounded hard against his window, and it had really gotten onto his nerves. He wanted to step out of the car and grab a honker and scream it into the ears of the reckless drivers behind him. Turning down the volume of the music channel and switching on the busted AC had not been of any comfort to him. He wiped the beads of irritating sweat forming on his forehead with his sleeve. After all, he had been stuck in the exact same queue for half-an-hour or two, and had not moved more than three blocks away from his office. He gritted his teeth at the thought of how worthless the policemen were to have misconduct the traffic, hoping that they'd do their job before he dies in the humid heat contained in the car. Maybe if he walked he could have gotten to the hospital by now.

Some civilization.

Thankfully, as things started to move and speed up, Richard threw his hands up as if crying "Thank God!" and pounded his foot on the accelerator petal. He sped off in the road ahead of him, swirling several times before reaching three blocks away from his destination.

One T intersection before his last spin! Just as he made a bit swerve to the right, from an alley he came face to face with a Volvo racing in his direction.

SMASH. Richard had just caused another two hours of traffic jam.

Richard rubbed the back of his neck and muttered a curse under his breath as steam rose over the cover of his engine. For one reason, he's delayed, and another, it wasn't his vehicle. Infuriated, he stomped out of his car, slammed the door, and stormed at the car that collided with his. The driver, still in the Volvo, rolled his eyes and scrolled down his window, muttering some brutal language as well, preparing for the sizzling-hot oil of rage that Richard had got to pour on him. The cars behind them started honking again as people from the streets gathered and see another dispute arise.

"Get out of the car." Richard muttered, trying to withhold himself. No response. The man turned away and gave him a deaf ear. Upon seeing this, he pounded on the frame of the Volvo.

"I said, get out of the car!!!" Richard was hollering this time, making the windows shake.

The man dressed in green leaned his arm over the window and removed the sunglasses to take a good look at him. "And who duh hell are you to make me?"

That blew it. Richard became frantic to the point where he wanted to tug and rip his hair like straw and stomp on it. Despite the raging in his head, he flung the door open and dragged the man out by his collar.

"I'm afraid you owe me big bucks, sir," Richard hissed, with direct eye contact.

A sweat drop formed on the man's forehead as he realized how short he was compared to him. "Hey relax, man. Just a little scratch, ya know. " He looked over Richard's shoulder for a better look at the car and forced a smile, revising what he had just said. "I mean, a little indention…"

"And I believe this is a one way avenue," Richard added.

"Hold on, dude, I take this road back home every day and you expect me to believe that?"

Richard just simply nodded and pointed at a sign of a "no left turn" over the man's shoulder. "Yeah."

This time it's the man in green who wants to tug his hair. He twirled his sunglasses with his index finger and thumb. "I'll tell you what. If you get out of the way I'll save your ass from---"

A huge punch landed on his face before he could finish cussing. Richard, with his face as red as a kettle, just had to let it out before steam screamed out of his ears. The green-clad man fell a few steps backward, hovering over his cheek as the glasses shattered on the sidewalk.

"YooooOOOOUUUU …!!!"

Sirens were heard in a distance, along with a screech as a dark, buff policeman in blue stopped before them and slipped off his motorbike. He removed his helmet as he approached the two.

Richard, seeing his chance, strode up to the policeman and started ranting and pointing at the reckless driver who damaged his car, making overwhelming gestures as to describe what just happened. "Listen. I was making a right turn along the intersection and this man suddenly appeared before me from this lane, and apparently he was going to make a crossing on the double-yellow line in my direction (pointing at his chest), wrecking my car (swinging his arms at the steam gusting from the car behind him to prove his point) and making me miss this urgent appointment I've got in fifteen minutes. "

"Whoa man, I'd never thought I'd see you here."

Richard looked up to face the policeman in surprise. It was Victor Stone.

"You're Vic!?"

"I'd suppose I can say the same to you, Richard!"

They clasped each others hands in a firm handshake.

"I'd never thought I'd see you again after high school," Richard added.

Victor shrugged. "Yeah man, but hold on a sec. I'm thinking you've got issues here."

"Right…" Richard grumbled, with his face darkening again. "This guy is so dead. I'm going to make him pay for ruining Bruce's vehicle." The man in green simply made funny faces at him when Richard peered in his direction.

"You've got a problem?" Vic eyed.

"He owes me a pair of shades!" With this comment, Richard whacked him with a "play dead" glance.

A police car then appeared before them. "Yo Vic!" called a man in white uniform. "Rick wants you back at the headquarters immediately!"

"Right on!" Vic yelled back, signaling the policeman to get off the car. "This man is to be fined for causing traffic disorder. Take my motorbike, and lend me the keys to your vehicle. I'll take this guy whose car broke down to wherever he needs to get going."

"Hey! Who said I'm going with you?"

Vic rattled the keys and scurried to the driver's seat. "Get on or I'll kick your ass. I bet we have a lot to talk about." Vic peered at Robin's distorted car as it got towed away.

"Honestly, I was thinking about taking a better option…simply walking if that'll avoid me more chaos. Plus I'm short on time."

"New obsessions lately?"

"Just need to be back to check up on an elder registered in JC Daycare."

"Oh I see," Vic snickered. At the back of his mind he imagined Bruce in his fifties, trying to chew on steak without any teeth. "But tough luck, cos the car's broke and you're coming with me. You'll come up with a valid excuse soon enough."

"And be nagged by Bruce?" Richard mouthed. "Forget it! I'm taking the underpass!"

"Come on I know you're in a bad mood right now. Fine I'll take you there first and get hollered by my paper work dude at HQ. In return you can tell me about what you've been up to lately." Suddenly Vic's stern eyes grew round and adorable like those of pleading puppies that Richard could not turn away from. "Pleeeease?"

"Fine. I trust your driving skills," Richard muttured as he got into the police car. Vic gleamed with victory. "Oh yeah I'll call Wayne to postpone your engagement!"

While Vic randomly pressed a few keys on his robotic arm, Richard dropped the look on his eyes. "The line's dead. Wayne passed away three weeks ago."

Vic froze from his position and turned to look at the gloomy Richard beside him. "I…didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Just some factor in life we cannot avoid."

"He was a good man."

"Too bad I only realized that after his death. I had much to say to him."

"Yeah."

Silence broke between them. Victor stepped on the pedal and got the car moving down the streets.

"So," Vic continued, "You still don't have a car of your own?"

Richard turned to face the window. "That's if you don't count the other that got smashed a week ago."

"Boy, it looks as if you had a rough month."

"Yeah. Tell me something I not know."

"Just a point of advice," Vic turned to Richard. "When things start to hunt you down, stay in bed and take the day off." Then he jolted a thumb at the locket beside the door without keeping his eyes off the road. "And wear seat belts just to be safe."

"Thanks for the suggestion." Richard gingerly wrapped the strap across his chest and clipped it to the buckle.

"Some day if I see you not buckled up don't rant at me for taking you down."

"I wouldn't need to, and you wouldn't be able to either. I won't be driving if bad luck keeps coming on my back."

"Yeah, but if you change your mind some day, I will fine you."

"It never occurred to me that one day I'd be fined by a close teammate of mine."

"Hah! Too bad we're all professionals. The next time I need a lawsuit you can cover for me."

"Then I'd rather you not do me the favor of being responsible for your job. That's so unfair."

Another crash sounded in a distance behind them. Sirens squealed again.

"I can't believe it! These citizens are hysterical!" Richard cried as he took a look behind his seat. "Look at those lunatics! Bizarre drivers on the streets! How can they stand the deal of getting a new car every few months just to get on the hectic road!?"

"You'd be surprised by how much work we policeman do. If that moneypours into our pockets we'd be filthy rich," Cy chuckled.

"Hell right! So where was the police an hour ago when people actually need them to get the cars moving on the streets?"

"Hey, hold your temper. I was doing research on an underground terrorist group. It's not my job to do everything, ya know."

"What underground terrorist group?"

"The Hive," Vic answered.

"You mean the guerilla network responsible for 9/11?

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Holiness."

"There was news also spreading that they're responsible for drug dealing in the city. However, I think a greater problem would be solved if the government could impose an act solely against smoking though. Recently I picked up a pack of minors smoking in a pub, roughly in their teens, and the government obviously didn't take that hint seriously. When it comes to cigarettes, the officials see no evil, hear no evil, and smell no evil. Smoking is just a great commodity for taxes, just like those on our daily cup of tea."

"Apparently you are too responsible for those pathetic people. I never knew you were so devoted."

Victor smiled at Richard's compliment, although he rarely admits them. He knew that Robin had this ego and pride that could not let anyone know what he was really thinking. He's not the type of guy who'd admit that he's content with one's endeavor.

"So, how were things going at the judicial court?" Vic then questioned.

Richard was hesitant. "I quit," he replied.

"You WHAT?"

"QUIT."

"Why?"

"Merely disappointment."

"You've got to stick to something, buddy," Vic stated, shaking his head. "First you go wild on politics and then get in the mess of the abattoir in courthouse and what now? Are you ever going to make up your mind?"

"Probably never."

"Sometimes I never get what you're thinking."

Richard then massaged his forehead and scrubbed his eyebrow. As a firm believer of justice, he never thought what was behind the city's masked fallacy. For years he had fought against crime and sought forward the life of a politician, only to discover that there was no job suitable for him. Not even as a lawyer. Behind every case there were undiscovered intentions that keep the cycle of evil going on both sides. He would fight for what he believed was right on one side, but then the outcome would be drastic as everything revealed to him. It had all been proven to be shocking, for he never thought there were greater sinners than those super-villains he fought in crime roughly a decade ago.

"Sometimes I don't know what I'm thinking either," Richard confessed. "I think it's just that I used to dig in for the truth behind each statement and then realize that things are better left undiscovered. Sometimes I fight so hard to win that I don't realize what I'm fighting for. Worst of all, I end up debating for someone against my values for money."

"You're a man of your own words, Richard," Cy reassured. "Too bad you're that Sherlock within. People are selfish beings aren't they? JC is full of immoral people, and throughout our teen superhero job we've been thinking that they were innocent, helpless and weak. They obviously are more capable of wrongdoing."

"You figured that too?"

"Yeah. What's the most recent case you've got there?"

"The Serra Tierra Case that I turned down recently after taking it on for two months. It's just that some mad scientist produced a clone of his wife and killed the original."

"I hate clones. It gives this era the worst possibilities." Vic muttered.

"What's strange," Robin continued, "was that this man proclaimed that he loved her. It was just that she was always at work and couldn't to repay his feelings. He duplicated her so as to own a devotee. They argued on property issues and she got murdered by her husband. When we brought him to court, he argued that the duplicate is the exact copy of his wife, and that choosing between them would be as ridiculous as picking the best out of two identical sheets of paper. If he had created a life, he had the right to destroy one, and that his wife had only been replaced by her own copy, which had nothing to do with murder. He insisted that if clones were allowed to be made and sacrificed for research and medical purposes, why couldn't such example applyto his wife."

"And you were defending…?"

"The dead wife. That meant that I had no possibility of winning."

"The dead can't speak," Vic nodded. "That gives me the creeps. So if I choose between two sheets of paper I'd be choosing which tree I want to kill first?"

"That's a way to look at it."

"Man, he's just like Slade. He always comes up with deviant morals."

"The good thing's he's dead. Did you watch the news last week?"

"Yep, I saw you at court on TV, defending this eight-year old kid against Slade. You were so goodat making Slade get what he deserved."

"Capital punishment," Richard pointed out, having to reveal his pride. "That kid, Nicholas, had caught the evidence of Slade mingling with illegal political affairs on his video camera. Apparently Slade was behind the smuggling of ammunition and banned chemicals. You know how sneaky a politician he was. He kept getting away with things and we couldn't bring any evidence of his crimes when we were teen heroes, which we all knew he was held responsible for. I defended Nick with all my might so that I'd get Slade to die hard."

"It was hilarious how Slade was defending himself like a kid," Vic laughed, interrupting Richard's speech. "Remember what he said? When Slade was accused, he was like "I didn't do it! It wasn't me!" I especially like the part when he got dragged away by two policemen and he was like "Nooooooooooo! Mommieeeeeeee!" We've got him really nailed this time."

"At least I can rest well for now."

"You deserve it.

"Of course."

"You've got to change that proud attitude of yours.

"Look who's talking. You're the one who needs to change. You don't seem any different from ages ago."

"I'm not so sure. I'd be the only one to know."

"I doubt it Vic. I've changed though. That's why I didn't want to see you again."

"Really?"

"I've changed, I confess. I fear that this change will destroy my previously-hard gained friendship. I believed that all of us will be better off if we never meet again so that it will be maintained. At least, so that we can still believe that it exists."

"That's the silliest thing I've ever heard from you," Cy laughed. "Everyone changes. That isn't going to affect nor make any difference to the fact that we're still friends, right?"

"I doubt you'll ever want to make friends with the who I am now."

Everything grew silent The void between them filled the car with uneasiness. Vic kept his eyes on the streets while Richard looked outside the window.

"…I could tell you the exact same thing, Richard," Vic said.

"Really. So you too have something to hide?" Richard asked as he turned to face him.

"We haven't met for so long that I wouldn't be surprised if we have so much explaining to do. Time corrupts and separates us, methinks. As we become less ignorant or the truth, understanding the effects of our actions and the motives behind every move, we've become more acquainted with evil doing. We cannot avoid feeling guilty of the things we've never meant to do. It's the way of life. Don't worry about it. I've done horrible things too. Today I can only see the past of myself as an intruder and an over-confident teen hero doing none of his own business. We were fighting for justice, but from what I've learned, justice does not make us full-time winners. We don't have to force our values on anyone."

"Some wise words I hear."

"That's overdone, Richard," Vic raised his voice, "for I have not lived long enough to deal with these troubles in life. All I know is that we've all sinned a lot more than we thought we did, not knowing how things get carried out behind our backs. For not knowing our true intentions. For not knowing what the consequence will be to carry out our beliefs."

Richard felt comforted and confirmed. Victor had always been the best guy to talk to. "At least I feel a lot more secure, now that I know I'm not the only one feeling like this."

"Anytime, dude, anytime." Cy turned to Richard with a sympathetic smile on his face.

Cy continued on. "Hey Richard, have you seen our old friends yet? Do you still keep in touch with them?"

"No."

"Not even Starfire?"

"Yeah. Not even her. I haven't seen anyone but you."

"Small world, large city."

"Totally."

Suddenly the car slowed down as they arrived at the hospital. Richard began to unbuckle his seatbelt. The car parked along the street and after stepping out and closing the door, Richard turned to look at Vic who lowered the window.

"Hey," Richard teased, "if I forget to fasten my seatbelt when I drive, will I get a discount for being a full wedge hero of the past?"

"Look," Vic said with a stern face, "we just finished talking about civilian misconduct."

"I was just kidding."

"Tell ya what. If you actually forget within 6 months then you owe me a cup of coffee at Starbucks every week. If nothing happens then I'll let you be the first user of this newly high-tech gadget I made. Deal?"

"New gadgets? I'll definitely be looking forward to it."

"Great! Let's go sit and have some afternoon tea sometime soon. Cya dude!"

"Bye! And thanks for the ride!" He yelled as Vic zoomed off, who waved a hand out the window. Richard stood on the concrete sidewalk in front of the hospital for a minute to see the police car curve into a boulevard out of his sight. A smile curved upon his face.

"It's really great to have you back, Cy."

Note: JC officers are dressed in blue and policemen, white. I know this varies in different countries, because I've seen in a country where policemen were dressed in black and officers in white, and another where policemen in white and officers in green. Same applies to taxis. In some places I've seen black, yellow, white and blue. So be happy with the colors I've picked for JC police uniform.

I kept finding more errors on the page. Some of the symbols get illiminated. I'll have to revise it again if I find any.

The 9/11 and drug thing has nothing to do with real life. I did that so it could sound possible in reality... XD

The third chapter is going to surprise you. I bet you guys won't be able to guess who's coming up next. I type my stories really slow, I'm really sorry, but I'll try to hurry. Thank you for your replies.