I sat on that couch for two days while the Teen Titans figured out what to do with me. They made sure that one of them was always with me, taking shifts at all hours. I didn't understand why they didn't just put me under lock and key, but I somewhat suspected that they didn't have the heart to do that to me because I looked like Raven. Whatever. I wondered what they would do if the alarms went off again and they had to stop some big threat, but nothing ever happened.

Starfire and Beast Boy would make small talk with me when they were on watch. Starfire was extremely curious about my adventures after my death. It was nice to finally have an audience for my "Tom Cruise Shower Experience" story, even though she didn't even know who Tom Cruise was. I discovered that Beast Boy was a vegetarian when he made me a tofurkey sandwich, which I took one bite of and couldn't finish. We played a lot of video games. Both of them didn't seem perturbed by the fact that they had to babysit me, but they also refused to talk about anything serious. When I thanked Beast Boy for swooping in and rescuing me from Parasite's clutches, he mumbled a "you're welcome" and wouldn't talk any more about the subject. I missed the Beast Boy who had spent the afternoon with me by the water outside the tower.

Cyborg and Robin, on the other hand, were the worst. They fulfilled their time as guardian, but made no effort to be kind. Both of them completely disregarded me and spent time on the computer, researching various methods to exorcise me from the body of their friend. I could tell that they were getting frustrated.

But I was more frustrated than anyone. Had I come back to this body just to sit around in handcuffs and be escorted to the bathroom? The worst part was being ignored—as if I hadn't been ignored enough over the past two years due to the fact that no one could see me.

Did they want to hate me? Then why didn't they just hate me? Did they want to forgive me? Then where was the effort toward that?

I also thought a lot about Raven. Had she been watching from the back of my mind? Did she know what was going on? My guess was that she didn't, which was probably for the best. I would be livid if I found out that someone had clambered into my driver's seat and taken my body for a joy ride.

All I knew is that I was about to lose my mind. My skin was going to start grafting itself to the couch at this rate. They let me go to the bathroom as often as I needed, fed me twice a day, and allowed me a shower every morning, but I was so sick of that room, that couch, and that giant screen. My mind began to formulate an escape plan. Not that I wanted to take off like a criminal, but there just wasn't anything else for my brain to do!

Things were going to need to change. Soon.

I was going to have to talk to Robin.

I woke up when I felt a blanket being draped over me. I tried to sit up, but a hand pressed on my shoulder.

"Go back to sleep," Robin said.

"What time is it?" I asked groggily.

"Late," he replied simply.

I glanced around the room. Thumbnail pictures of various people glowed on the giant screen, but other than that the room was dark. "Thanks for the blanket," I murmured, pulling it up over my shoulder.

"Sure. You just looked cold." He stepped away, heading back toward the computer. The iciness couldn't be missed.

I was tired, but maybe now would be a good time to talk.

"I'm not a bad person," I said quietly.

"Maybe," Robin returned. He sat in the chair and began to review the display screens again. "But we can't take any more chances."

"Why won't you believe me?"

"Perhaps it's because you pretended to be Raven for so long."

"'So long'? It was only a day!" I exclaimed, sitting up. "Don't you understand? I've been dead for two years! I wanted to remember what it was like to enjoy warmth and touch and food and laughter. You don't feel those things when you're dead. You don't feel anything!" I took a deep breath, collecting myself. I wasn't going to cry. I refused to cry. I'd cried enough during the last few years of my life. "I was going to tell you."

He turned in his chair to face me. "We gave you a chance to," he replied coldly. "I gave you a chance to. You looked right at me and said that you had nothing to tell me."

I looked at my hands again. "I know. But I wasn't ready. I didn't want you to stop being my friend."

He snorted, and it sounded extremely cruel. "Don't you get it? I never was your friend. I don't know you—I don't know anything about you. I'm Raven's friend." He turned back around, resuming his work.

The screen flashed through various images, and I watched for a moment before speaking again. "What's Raven like?" I asked quietly.

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, it seems kind of sad that I occupy her body and the only thing I know about her is her clothing size."

He paused. "Beast Boy calls her creepy, but she's just quiet. She's into reading and meditation and things that sharpen her mind. Her powers come from her feelings, so she doesn't show a lot of emotion. But she's a powerful member of the team. Actually, you two would probably get along great. She would be fascinated by a dea--" He stopped short.

"A dead girl," I finished for him.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, his voice a bit quiet, "It just seems rude to call you that."

"It's okay—it's not like it's a big secret."

He shrugged and began going through his data again.

"That night," I began, "when you and I talked while we made dessert… Did you know then that I wasn't Raven?"

"I had my suspicions. We all did. But we weren't sure. Not until your behavior during the battle with Parasite."

"But if you knew, then why didn't you just leave me to Parasite?"

The razor-edge in his voice returned, "Because we couldn't just let you die. Because we had to know what you had done with Raven. Because the image of Raven—of Raven's body—in his grasp like that will haunt me forever."

He seemed to be taking all of this so hard—so personally. I opened my mouth, ready to ask another question, and then shut it before any words came out. I lied back down and pulled the blanket over me. After a half-second of debating, I decided to ask anyway, "Are you in love with her?"

I saw him freeze. He didn't turn. He didn't speak.

"Are you?" I asked again.

"No," he said distantly. "We're just close friends."

I had my doubts. Of course, I didn't know anything at all. Maybe he was with Starfire. Maybe he was gay or celibate. Certainly it was none of my business.

"You know that I died before I ever had my first kiss or fell in love? I'll never know what it's like to have a baby, either. Hell, I never even drove a car. Of course, I kind of bypassed things like paying taxes and working at a fast food place, too."

Robin paused, turning in his chair. "I'm sorry."

I sat up again, giving a shrug. "I guess I just wanted to tell you not to let a good thing pass you by. Especially considering your job. You never know when you're going to take your last breath."

He seemed to think about that for a moment. "My family was killed in front of me," he said simply.

I was shocked. His tone, the fact that he was sharing such a detail with me, the idea of seeing such a horrible thing…it all shook me up. "I—I'm sorry," I stuttered, the words sounding extremely inadequate. But really, what could I say?

"Don't be. I never would have become who I am today if it wasn't for that event in my life. I guess everything has a purpose." He ran a hand through his hair. "I just brought it up because I know what you mean about how you never know when something is going to happen. There are so many times when I wish that I'd had one less argument with my dad or told my mom one more time that I loved her."

I let that sink into my head. So there was a dark wrinkle in the past of the Boy Wonder. I guess I should have figured that. It would take something major for a kid with no superpowers to go out and hunt evil night after night.

"I was lucky, though," he continued. "Not every kid ends up in the home of a superhero."

I raised my eyebrows. "Batman?"

He smirked, though it was a handsome smirk. "Sure. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I guess. It's just kind of strange, I guess. You see all that stuff on the TV about what a vigilante he is and how no one knows who he is. But I'm sitting here having a conversation with someone who knows. That's…weird."

"Don't believe everything you watch on TV. He's a nice guy."

"So are you," I said. "Sometimes."

He didn't seem offended by my comment. "So, Morgan, why did you run away from home?"

The question surprised me. I had figured that question was going to come up sooner or later, but I really didn't think that Robin would be the one to ask it. "I'll answer that," I said, "if I get to ask a question of my own."

He seemed hesitant, but then nodded. "Okay."

"And you'll answer it? Nothing off-limits?" I pushed. "Not your past or Batman or innermost feelings?"

Now he seemed really hesitant. I'm sure our conversation over the past few minutes weren't helping.

I added, "I promise not to ask about secret identities."

That eased his mind. "All right. Deal. So why did you run away?"

"It boils down to two things: a drug-dependent mom and a step-dad who couldn't keep his hands to himself. I don't need to go into the gruesome details—your imagination can fill in the blanks." I paused, but when my imagination started to fill in the blanks, I spoke up again, "I stuck around until social services took my sister away. Then I left."

"Social services didn't come for you, too?"

"I left before they had the chance," I muttered. "My sister got lucky—she ended up with a nice family who wanted a sweet little girl to adopt. But kids my age don't end up in nice families like that. They end up in homes that are just as fucked up as the one you left."

"That's not true."

"Oh really? Then why, pray tell, are you here now instead of back in Gotham?"

"They need me here."

"And that was enough to make you leave home?"

"I'd had my arguments with Batman—I won't lie about that. But the last straw was that the teachers and counselors at school thought that it was very suspicious that a young boy would show up so often with bruises and cuts. I couldn't tell them that I was out fighting crime night after night as Robin, so they assumed I was being abused at home. They were going to put me into foster care. I left."

"So you do agree with me when I saw that the foster homes can be fucked up. Too bad I didn't have a black belt in tae kwon do or I could have donned a mask and started kicking some ass instead of dumpster diving."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he was keeping his mouth shut.

I changed the topic. "So, now it's my turn to ask a question."

He braced himself. "Okay, go ahead."

I paused, although I already had a question in mind. I guess I just wanted him to stress out a bit. "What color are your eyes?" I asked.

"W-What?"

"You heard me. What color are your eyes?"

"That's your question?"

"Why are you so surprised? I mean, it's not like I can tell what color they are—you wear that mask all the time!" I smiled at his puzzled expression. "What's the matter? Don't you know what color they are?"

"Of course I know!" he said. "I just thought that you were going to be asking something a bit more…heavy."

"Nah. I can wait until we're actually friends before I start that."

He gave a small smile. "My eyes are blue."

I smiled back. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

He didn't say anything, which was just fine. I wondered if now was a good time to bring up my position as couch prisoner. Then I realized that I had better do it now while I had him speaking or I probably would never get an answer from him.

"Robin," I began, "I hate to bring this up, but I've just got to know… What will happen to me if you don't find a way to bring Raven back?"

"We will find a way to bring Raven back," he said, the edge entering his voice again.

"But what if you don't? What will you do with me? I mean, I assume that you'll never stop looking for a way to reverse what has been done, but are you going to force me to stay on this couch forever?"

"Of course not. But I haven't really thought it out that far."

I could tell that he was just starting to go through the possibility of having to live with me around instead of Raven. He didn't seem all that happy about it, either. Not that I could blame him.

"Sorry I brought it up," I murmured.

"Forget about it," he shrugged. "Anyway, you should go back to sleep."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Good night, Morgan."

"Good night," I said. I watched him as he faced the computer once more and began sorting through all of his little mugshots.

Robin really was a nice guy. When he wanted to be.

I wondered yet again if he was in love with Raven.

And then I told my head to shut up.

I lied back down and snuggled under the blanket, adjusting the cuffs on my hands so that they didn't dig into my skin. Falling asleep while gazing over at Robin didn't seem so bad, even though it did seem a little childish.

And then it was like a little light went on inside of my head. A double-take. A glimmer of recognition. A did-I-see-what-I-thought-I-saw. I sat up, the blanket falling from my shoulder as I stared at the screen.

Yes, I did recognize one of the faces. It was unmistakable, really. I'd only spent an hour or so with him, but no one could forget a face that looked like that. At least, no one could forget the mask that he wore over his face—half of it black, the other half gold. With only one eye showing.

"Hey," I spoke. "I know that guy."

Robin turned. "What guy?"

I nodded toward the screen. "That guy. Top left corner."

Something flashed in Robin's eyes. He punched a few keys on the control panel, and the picture enlarged to fill the whole screen. "This one?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, that one."

Suddenly Robin was in front of me again, his expression twisted in anger. He grabbed my arm, squeezing it so tightly that it was all I could do to keep from crying out. "Tell me everything you know."

"Wh--? I—I don't know anything!" I squeaked.

"You said you knew him!" he snapped, digging his fingers into my arm.

"I've seen him before, yes."

"Did you talk to him?"

"A bit. But only for, like, an hour."

"What did he want?" he demanded to know.

His grip on me tightened, and this time I let out a small whimper. He had an extremely powerful grasp, and it didn't help that my hands were locked together in the damn handcuffs. "You're hurting me," I said.

He ignored that comment. "What did he want?" he repeated with more force.

Fear began to build inside of me. He was acting crazed, and it scared me. What had happened to the guy that I had been chatting with just moments ago? The patient, understanding one?

"He…just offered me a meal," I said.

"And you took it?"

"It was back when I was a runaway. I was hungry."

His glare softened, but just a little. He appeared to processing all of this.

"Rob, what's going on?" came Cyborg's voice. He had stopped in the doorway, trying to piece together the situation.

Robin glanced back at his friend. He stepped away from me, finally releasing my arm. I threw him a dirty look as I massaged it the best I could. "New development," he said darkly. "She knows Slade."