A/N: Mmmkay . . . I am never using metaphors with you guys again. Some people, and I won't name names (Cough, Willowleaf, cough, ahem), are just too intense to handle them. Anywho, I still don't own anything, and I'm still in my bunker now hiding from a giant honey pot too. (Wow, is it just me or does anyone else get the mental image of an evil Winnie the Pooh standing outside with a giant black pot of honey in his hands?)

Chapter 12

Amelia Johnson. Long blonde, wavy hair, pale skin, and gray eyes. She was a beautiful lady if you could ignore the fact that it looked like all the color had been drained from her. In the picture she looked cocky and arrogant. It annoyed the heck out of Beast Boy. The woman didn't look brain-washed either, but then, it was only a picture.

The morning after the whole tower had been woken up with blood curdling screams from Sean and Jessie's rooms, Cyborg had calmed down enough to find the woman's passport and other personal information in her company's computer bank. Actually it was more like hacking, and they were all surprised Cyborg hadn't gotten a call from the FBI or something. But he hadn't and it worked. Sean and Jess were still in their rooms.

"She was definitely married to the weirdo, about sixteen years ago. Here's the marriage certificate. Her boss must keep everything," Cyborg's robotic fingers swept over the keys of the super-computer and a document spread over the screen.

"Great," Beast Boy grumbled, "Does it say anything in the wedding vows about brain-washing your spouse and/or your kids?"

"Maybe he didn't have to brain-wash her," Wonder Woman said, "Maybe she didn't know what he is. She found out and ran."

"There are a lot of maybes in that," Batman said, "And that doesn't really matter now. What I want to know is what she's got to do with any of this."

"Somehow he had to get her to agree to be a part of this," Raven said, "Maybe he has something on her?"

Starfire floated up to get a better look at Amelia's pale features, "Perhaps he got her this job as an, um, I believe you called it an internal-putter? It means she translates languages?"

"Interpreter Starfire," Beast boy said with a tiny smile, "What made you come up with that?"

"Even on my old planet it was an important position," she floated back down to sit with Beast Boy on the couch, "Our language interpreters on Tameran were usually requested by a trusted advisor. I just thought Earth might not be so different."

"It isn't, which means you could be right," Cyborg starred at the screen again, "The only way we'll know for sure is if we ask her ourselves."

"Any ideas on how to do that?" Superman asked.

That got them. They were quiet for a while until Batman spoke, "Well . . . Ms. Johnson could always get an emergency call, telling her to come home immediately."

Raven smiled a little, "That is true."

"Please," Starfire said, "What emergency do you speak of?"

"Whatever emergency we make up, family trouble maybe, kids get hurt all the time," Raven walked up to the computer, "This thing wouldn't happen to tell how to get in touch with mommy dearest, would it?" She looked at Cyborg.

"Maybe," He grinned and punched in a few more commands, "Yep. Here in her file, phone number of her secretary and everything. Who wants to make the call?"

"Wait," Beast Boy said suddenly, "What if she asks to speak to Dr. Crazy? What are you gonna tell her, Sorry he has laryngitis'?"

"Don't worry about it, man," Cyborg said casually, "I got it. Do me a favor; go see if Jessie and Sean are awake."

Computers are great, you know? Especially when the computer you're using happens to be a beautiful super-computer with access to almost any data-base, secret files . . .

and not to mention a built in voice recognizer that can recreate any sound you want.

"It's a little deeper . . . yeah like that," Jessie nodded her head as Cyborg changed octaves.

They were recreating Dr. Carlisle Martin's voice, just in case his ex-wife still needed to hear it every now and then. Sean and Jessie were helping to perfect it. It would be a long distance call, anyway, so even if it did sound a little electronic they could blame it on the phone lines.

Cyborg played the sentence over again.

"It's a little too fast," Sean said, watching the thin line on the screen turn into a jagged sound wave.

"How's this?" Cyborg slowed it down.

"Better, but it's hard to tell," Sean rested his chin in his hands and Starfire dropped lightly onto the couch next to him.

Jessie was really jumpy this morning, and this little stunt they were about to pull wasn't helping her nerves, "I think its close enough. Are you sure this will work?" She asked for the millionth time.

"Yeah," Cyborg said patiently, because he really wasn't and he understood her anxiety, "You said that parents have some joint custody over the both of you, right?"

"Well . . . yes," She said.

"Well, then, it's pretty understandable that they'd both have to be here if one of you were fatally ill," Cyborg explained again. Jessie sighed.

"And if this doesn't work?" She asked. Cyborg was really hoping to get the old Terra back soon. She never asked this many questions. But Cyborg didn't have to answer this time.

"Then there's always the option of kidnapping her," Beast Boy landed with a bounce on the couch beside Jessie.

"You people really aren't much on subtlety, are you?" Jessie smiled a little bit, hesitant, but there. That's all BB needed, his signature goofy grin spread over his face.

"Cyborg?" Sean asked after a minute, "What exactly are you going to tell her when she gets here?"

Cyborg was also looking forward to seeing Robin again. Then he could make all the brilliant plans.

"Um . . . Well, see, Sean, we're kinda makin this up as we go," Cyborg saved his little Dr. Carlisle voice creation and turned to look at him.

"That's comforting," Sean mumbled.

"We're having her go to an abandoned warehouse two miles from here. She'll already know something's up. I don't think there's much we can say to her that she won't already expect," Cyborg thought for a minute, "Actually it'll be a miracle if she even gets in the car willingly. May have to ask Bats for some knock-out gas, he's got to have some in that belt of his."

Sean and Jessie looked a little leery of that thought.

"But we may not have to do anything that drastic," Cyborg said quickly, then decided to change the subject, "What all do you two remember about her anyway?"

The two looked at each other, apparently they'd thought about that too.

Jessie spoke, "When we really thought about it, not much."

"What do you mean?" Starfire leaned a little forward.

"It's fuzzy," Sean said, "We never had to remember much about her before, never thought we had to, no one asked. But now we just get blurry images of things we did with her, but no in between. Her face is clear in our minds, but the memory itself seems . . . kinda . . ."

"Like we didn't put it there," Jessie finished wryly.

Raven was the only other person in the room, the League was somewhere doing JL stuff, the Titans didn't ask anymore, and she'd been quiet until now, "You may never have even met Amelia Johnson."

All heads turned her way, "Think about it," she said, "What if Martin was only using her as a prop? It's possible she only agreed to that much. The only thing Amelia Johnson may be guilty of here is doing nothing to stop this."

"It is still no excuse," Starfire's eyes flashed green for a moment, "She is still guilty, horrid woman." Star continued to seethe in her native tongue, slouched on the couch, arms folded.

"I didn't say she wasn't guilty," Raven said, "But being angry may not get us on her good side."

Beast Boy glanced back up at the arrogant picture of Amelia Johnson, "She doesn't look like she has a good side."

Beast Boy may have been right about Amelia Johnson not having a good side. Clark could tell through the phone. The reason he was the one making the call was because they all agreed it had to be an adult; she might think it's a prank if it came from a teenager. Batman didn't have the patients for it, considering this woman may be in league with the man who stole his kid and Diana's excuse was; quote, "No," unquote, so the duty fell to the man of steel himself. Well, at least he had people skills; working with a newspaper and all that.

Ms. Johnson on the other hand was not a people person, "What do you mean we both have to be there? Why can't Carlisle just make the decision by himself? Surely the imbecile is capable of that much," when she had first picked up the phone her voice was smooth and polite, but as soon as Clark said Carlisle Martin's name it became scratchy and rose to the point of screeching.

"Well, ma'am," Clark said, racking his brains for a viable explanation, "It's a very complicated situation; we don't want to do anything unless both parents are present."

It seemed the word parent gave her pause. What mother, especially a fake mother, would ignore her children? "Can't you just tell me over the phone and I'll give you an answer?" She sounded on the verge of hysterics.

"No, I'm afraid we can't do that," Clark decided it was time to play the Carlisle card, "Dr. Martin insists that you come. Would you like to speak to him?"

"No," she said it too quickly, looks like Cyborg wouldn't get to use his new toy, "I mean that won't be necessary. But are you sure?" she continued.

"Yes I'm sure. Dr. Martin refuses to make any drastic decisions until you get here."

There was a long pause, and Clark thought she was going to hang up and flee to another country, one without phone service, but then he heard a resigned sigh, "Fine . . . hang on a second. Let me check the flight schedules." There was some rustling as she moved the phone, a minute later she picked again. "I'll be there in about two days, it's the only flight available that soon. This just had to happen when it's almost Christmas, didn't it? What's the address again?"

Clark gave her the phony address and asked her to call when she was off the plane, and she hung up with a hard wack.

Clark looked at the others, "She'll be here in two days."

Bruce nodded, "Why that late?"

"It's December Bats. Christmas, you know?" Diana leaned forward a little to make sure the raised eyebrow was seen.

"Guess it just snuck up," he mumbled and then, in an obvious attempt to change the subject, he gave Clark a weird look, "What did you say Jessie had again?"

"Phototomic engoparamount disease."

"And that is . . .?"

"I have no idea."

Two days later . . .

Amelia Johnson got off the plane in Jump City and made the call to the Hospital, just like she promised. She made sure the address was right one last time and call a taxi. The taxi driver gave her a weird look when she told him the address but shrugged it off. She almost asked why, then decided it was probably just lower class stupidity.

It took a while to get through the crowded streets and onto the main road so she took the time to do what she did best . . .

Completely loath everyone else. The topic of her current loathing was her ex-husband, Carlisle Martin. Honestly Amelia couldn't remember what she'd seen in him, the pompous, deceitful scum he was. Not to mention more controlling than a dictator.

Now he'd dragged her into his newest ridiculous endeavor . . . children. She'd only agreed to have joint custody because he wouldn't leave her alone about it. Plus she owed him. Not only had he taken her out of her parent's house in that rat infested hole in the wall, but he'd married her, and for a long time made her very happy. When Amelia asked why he did all this for her he would say she was special and he didn't want to lose her. That he had great plans. What a fool she'd been to trust him only on that.

Amelia had a knack for learning languages, you name it. German, Spanish, French, a little Italian, Greek and of course several different dialects of Chinese. She'd begged him to help her get a job as an interpreter, no one would hire a high school dropout, but he hadn't wanted her working, said he wanted to provide her with everything.

But she had argued that if he really wanted to make her happy he would help her with this, and if he wanted to provide her with everything . . . well, then wasn't a good career something? As anyone could see Carlisle had once again provided her with something that she would inevitably have to pay back.

Because Carlisle Martin could take anything back if it served his purpose. And after everything she'd put up with. That horrible breakdown was the worst, at the time she was so afraid he might never come out of that mental facility, now she wished they'd have locked him up and thrown away the key.

Then of course the reason for their divorce. She didn't think about that for too long.

Their divorce hadn't settled until earlier that year, and that's how she'd gotten stuck with children to her name. Carlisle wouldn't let her take anything in the settlement unless she signed the papers, he wanted his home to look as stable as possible for kids, and he'd promised she didn't have to have anything to do with them unless it was completely necessary. Except for the fact he'd sent her all those letters about the kids, teenagers, their pictures, and the strangest one had come not too long ago . . .

. . . because you know what I can do my dear . . .

Amelia was so lost in her thoughts she didn't realize the cab had stopped; the driver was trying to get her attention.

"Miss," he was saying, "This is your stop. You need help with your bag?"

She finally snapped out of it, "Um, no, thank you. How much do I owe you?" he told her as she picked up her only bag and she paid him. She got out of the car and it drove off before she registered where she was. This couldn't be right. She turned back to the cab to tell the moron he'd gotten the wrong place but he was gone, "Uggghhh," she pulled out her cell. She would have to call another cab.

"That won't be necessary," said a familiar voice behind her, "you've got the right place."

Amelia turned and saw a large man with dark hair and a colorful uniform watching her. Behind him was a small . . . green boy and a . . . robot? This could not be good.

"That's not possible," She said as calmly as she could, "I'm supposed to be at a hospital," she jabbed her thumb at the large abandoned building to her right, "This is not a hospital. Besides, how would you know if I'm in the right place?" now she was just being condescending. What kind of a degenerate was this?

"Because I'm the one who gave you the address," his tone was just as condescending as hers. Amelia thought fast. What if this was Carlisle's doing? All the worst scenarios played through her mind, but the stranger spoke again, "Carlisle doesn't know about this. If we're lucky he doesn't even know you're in the country."

"What is going on here?" she snapped. Amelia did not like being played with, especially not by some half-wit pranksters.

"We need your help with something, if you would kindly come with us . . ." he stepped towards a blue-white car.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," She planted her feet firmly on the cracked sidewalk, "Not unless you can give me a monumentally good reason. Do you think I was born yesterday?"

He paused and the little green boy and the robot-person-thing walked past him and got into the car. "You need a good reason? How's this? Your ex-husband is being accused of kidnapping, among other serious crimes, and you are viewed as his accomplice, better?"

She would kill him. That horrid, good for nothing, creep of a man, a complete waste of air, that's what he was. She sighed, no, she couldn't do that. Carlisle had dragged her into another mess, and the only way she could get out of it and keep everything she'd worked for, she would have to play by his rules.

. . . because you know what I can do my dear . . .

This meant she would have to lie for him, again. She suddenly realized the point of that creepy letter. Carlisle would pay for this one, she didn't know how, but she would find a way. She could not believe she'd fallen for this stupid trick. Never mind, she would just have to be more careful with these people.

The man was waiting for her answer.

"Fine, but when this is over, you'll being hearing from my lawyer," The man nodded and led her to the car. This was the start a wonderful day. Maybe she would get lucky and be hit by a bus.

Titan's Tower

Amelia Johnson walked into the Tower after Clark, Beast Boy, and Cyborg with her nose slightly crinkled up, like she'd smelled something bad. Her gray eyes swept over the building with an air of complete disgust, those gathered inside the Tower were watching from the monitors.

It was a very good thing Clark would be standing just outside the door. Otherwise Bruce might strangle her. Batman would be doing the interrogation. Superman offered to do it instead, but really the man could be too trusting at times. They didn't want it to be one of the Titans because she might not take a teenager seriously. Telling the Titans this was a fight in itself, they didn't take too lightly to being considered just kids. Diana's excuse was once again a simple NO. She didn't like annoying little people, and you could tell just from her picture, the ex-Mrs. Carlisle Martin was as arrogant as they come.

It was all the better for the Bat, he wanted to do this interrogation. He set off to the Titan's cement interrogating room.

Clark led her straight there, no one got in their way, even Cyborg and Beast Boy turned off the initial path, instead of going straight to the room. Everyone else would watch from behind the one-way glass, except Sean and Jessie. They said they were still tired.

Ms. Johnson was sitting in the hard chair across from the glass; Batman decided it was time to enter.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do this?" Clark asked before Batman went in, he was afraid Bruce might do something stupid. When had that ever happened? Bruce could answer his own question in that, but that wasn't relevant right now.

"Yes, I'm sure," Batman said and twisted the door handle, "Besides, you'll be standing right here." Clark still didn't look too confident, but they didn't have time for all this. He slipped into the room, silent as a ghost.

Amelia didn't notice the new presence; she was staring at the table lost in her own world. Her bag sat in her lap, and she kept a pale hand clasped over the opening, protective.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Johnson," Batman said in a very normal tone, Amelia jumped a foot in the air anyway, "Or should I call you Mrs. Martin, instead?"

It took her a moment as she took in the black silhouette, the horns, the masked scowl. When she recovered her composure enough to register his question she snarled at him, "Ms. Johnson if you don't mind. And even if you do, it's still Ms. Johnson." It was a very good thing Clark was on the other side of that door.

Ms. Johnson wasn't finished, "Before you start in on whatever half-baked accusation you've concocted, let me be clear. I have had practically no contact with Carlisle Martin in nearly a year, whatever trouble he's gotten into has nothing to do with me, you're wasting your time, and mine," she leaned back in her chair and fixed Batman with a glare to rival his own.

"We'll see about that," Batman said quietly and strode slowly across the room, "Do you know what he, and you of course, are being accused of?"

"Your friend said something about kidnapping?" She wasn't looking at him anymore, just fiddling with the string on her bag.

"Yes, and child abuse, and a few others," Batman said calmly, "You have joint custody with him over these children." He slid the two pictures onto the table, right under her nose.

"Yes, Jessica and Sean, for about fifteen years now," she was lying. It was almost impossible to tell, but Batman was able to detect the subtle signs. She was very good at lying for Dr. Martin.

"And you were married to Dr. Martin for sixteen years?"

"Can we not bring up past mistakes?" She turned the pictures so she could see them better, still not looking at Batman.

"Can you tell me how you and Dr. Martin got these children?" Batman was waiting for the trained seal answer. That's exactly what he got. Amelia rattled off the name of an orphanage that closed about ten years ago, no way to trace any of the files, how convenient.

Batman continued with questions along this line: the children's names before they were adopted, their birthdays, what preschool they went to, and on and on.

Finally Ms. Johnson looked up at him, "Sir, what relevance does this have to the accusations? Why won't you just get to the point?" She was glaring at him again, and Batman realized he was smirking.

He couldn't help it; this was rather funny in a morbid sort of way. He took a long minute to answer, and then he said slowly, "You're lying."

Batman didn't think it was possible, but her face paled a bit more, "That's ridiculous," she said in a low snarl, "Why would I lie about my own children?"

"Because they're not your children," Batman had wanted to say that for a very long time.

"Well, of course, biologically I can't claim them but an honorable court of law . . ."

"Didn't give them to you either," Batman was almost laughing at her now, and Ms. Johnson could tell. Her hand tightened on her bag.

She straightened in her chair, "And what proof do you have of that?"

Batman paused, "What's Jessica's favorite hobby?"

"What?" She nearly fell out of her chair with the absurdity of the question, "That has absolutely nothing to do with . . ."

"Do you know Sean's best class in school?" Batman interrupted. She glared at him a moment longer before he spoke again, taking a few steps closer, "A mother who has spend fifteen years raising these two children would know the answers to those questions," he said quietly, tapping the pictures on the table.

Amelia took a deep breath before she answered, "I've been away for a while . . ."

"And not a single letter? A phone call? E-mail's pretty quick," if looks could kill Batman would be dead five times over by now, but he continued, "Let me guess at something for a second, if you don't mind."

"Why not? You've guessed at everything else," Amelia folded her arms and stared at him, waiting.

Batman slowly walked around her chair, "Let's start with your divorce, shall we? Sixteen years is a long time to be married and then just end it all in one fatal swoop."

"Or maybe we finally got sick of each other."

"No, that's much too simple. See, I think, that when the good doctor got out of that mental facility, yes, I know about that, when he got out he was different, in a way you didn't understand. I think he told you things that were a bit . . . unbelievable. Am I getting close?"

She shrugged and said, "You're the one telling the story."

Batman nodded, he could see he'd hit a nerve, she wouldn't look at him at all, "Moving on. Carlisle began acting strange, he told you some story . . . does the term mind-control mean anything to you?"

That was a major nerve. Now she was staring openly at him, she still didn't say a word.

"It's a yes or no question, Ms. Johnson," Batman said quietly. She didn't move, she didn't speak, she only starred, "I'll take that as a yes," he said, then a thought occurred to him, something Batman hadn't thought of before now, "He demonstrated it to you, didn't he?" he asked in a curious tone.

Ms. Johnson looked away from him, and finally said, "I don't know what he did. It scared me." Her voice was no longer powerful and confident, she sounded like a child.

"So you left him," Batman said softly, she nodded, "And you didn't get these children fifteen years ago did you?" Batman went on. She was silent and still ounce more. She'd said too much.

"You're still scared of him," Batman said calmly. Amelia's head snapped up. Something flashed in her eyes.

"I want to go now," she got up to leave and was almost out the door when Batman spoke again.

"He got you that job, didn't he, there's no way you got it yourself."

She spun around, now he'd hurt her pride, "Why would you say that? I'm perfectly capable of handling my own affairs."

"You didn't even finish high school," Batman said coolly, then pulled out her empty chair, "Please, sit."

She didn't move, "Fine," she said slowly, "he got me a job. It doesn't matter now."

"Oh, but it does. He has the power to take it away, doesn't he? Unless you do what he asks, like lying about adopting children," Batman could see her crumbling. Amelia Johnson was just another pawn in this sick game. She still didn't budge, though, only her eyes gave her away.

Batman took a moment to continue, "You think you owe him."

Amelia finally spoke, "I don't owe that cretin anything. And I'm not afraid of anyone."

"If that were true you wouldn't be lying for him," Batman said quietly, "He's still got you pinned under his thumb."

She was shaking now, some color coming to her face, "How dare you . . . I have never . . . I am no one's play thing." She finally growled.

"Prove it . . . Ms. Johnson."

She trembled for a moment, eyes wide, her grip on that bag starting to look painful, her gaze shifting between Batman and some place he couldn't see. Then, suddenly, she smiled. A toothy smile that looked half crazed, half absolute victory. She looked away from Batman and down at the bag in her death grip, she opened it and began to rifle through it at a haphazard pace, and yanked out a handful of papers. They looked like opened letters, crumpled and torn, but still readable.

Still smiling she marched over to Batman and slapped the letters down on top of the pictures of Jessie and Sean. She walked around the table, sat back down, and watched as Batman picked up the letters and looked at her.

Silently she waved her hand, go ahead, see what kind of toy I am.

Batman took the first letter out of its crumpled envelope and skimmed it, flipped it over, and got up.

He looked back at Amelia, "Excuse me a minute." He walked into the adjacent room, right past Clark, straight to Diana. She raised an eyebrow as he handed her the thick stack of letters, "Can you translate these?" Bruce asked her.

She glanced down at the first one, and smiled, "It's all in ancient Greek," Raven walked up behind her and Diana turned to her, "It seems we have more work to do." They left immediately and Bruce walked back into the interrogation room.

Amelia was still smiling, "I did promise dear Carlisle that I wouldn't say a word," she shrugged and asked, "May I go now?" Batman thought about that for a minute. He almost laughed again; he respected that little stunt enough to let her be on her way.

"Make sure we can reach you," Batman said gruffly, and opened the door for her. No sense in getting their only real source of information in trouble either. She nodded and walked out.

"From what we've been able to translate so far, he really told her everything, it's like they were still married," Raven said.

"Talk about not being able to let go," Beast Boy said. It had been a few hours since Amelia Johnson left, and they were all in the kitchen, except for Sean and Jessie, they all assumed they were still sleeping.

"What else did you find Rae?" Cyborg asked.

"It's Raven, and hang on a second," she took a letter from Diana and settled into her seat, "This is the one pertaining to Sean and Jessie, or Robin and Terra, never mind I keep getting confused. He wrote to her and said he wanted her to do one more thing before he would let her have the divorce, sign the adoption papers. The rest are miscellaneous things, you can see when he got Terra--he tells Amelia all about her. Then of course when Robin fell in the river matches the date on this letter," Raven held out another one and paused to exchange papers.

"This one is where it gets creepy," Diana held a particularly thick envelope, it was the biggest one in the pile, "The first page is just like all his other letters, telling her about the kids, asking how she is . . . but the last line says that he's included a list of "instructions" for her to follow. Here's the translated version." She gave the hand written translation to Batman first, "Every question you asked her, the orphanage, their names, it's all there." She paused as Batman read it.

At the bottom was a single line,

I hope you follow this if anyone asks, because you know what I can do my dear.

Vacantly Batman heard Cyborg speak to Beast Boy, "Hey B, go see if Sean and Jess are okay. They gotta be hungry by now." He heard the little changeling leave. Bruce passed the item back to Diana.

"So he definitely fed her all the answers, it even makes her promise to meet him. How much you want to bet it's to make her swear to say she got the kids fifteen years ago and work out all the paperwork?"

"And to make her promise not to say anything," Cyborg said wryly. Diana and Raven nodded.

"There are still more letters to go through, but we wanted to make sure you got that," Raven picked up the rest of the papers and stood to leave and translate the rest with Diana, when Starfire spoke.

"Wait friend, please," Starfire waited until Raven turned around, "there is one thing I do not understand. If this . . . doctor wants our friends back so badly, why did he give them the horses of night?"

Raven starred at her for a minute until Cyborg chuckled, "Nightmares."

"Oh," Raven looked back at Starfire and said, "Well Star, the best I can think of is that he didn't." She paused to let that soak in.

"What you talkin bout, Raven," Cyborg said.

"What I mean is, the mind is a complicated thing, what you perceive can become your reality," she paused again, "Sean and Jessica are starting to see that Dr. Martin can hurt them. I think when he entered their minds he was hoping to calm them down and make them want to come home. But as soon as they realized he was there the beautiful dream he was weaving turned into a nightmare. Carlisle Martin didn't push them away, they pulled." She cocked her head to one side, "That explain your question?"

Starfire thought for a second and then nodded, "I believe so. Thank you friend."

"No problem, now if you'll excuse me . . . "Raven was cut off by a little green changeling hurtling through the door.

"Wough, there B, what happened?" Cyborg grabbed the little guy before he slammed into Superman.

"It's Jessie and Sean," he said frantically, "They're gone."

A/N: I have wanted to say this ever since I started writing this story, ahem . . .

BWWWHHAAHHAA! A cliffy!!

Sorry, I'm done. But seriously I hope I surprised somebody, if I didn't, well, I tried. I also discovered that I hate doing interrogations; it's just not a fun thing.

Please review, and tell me if you have a question, I'm new at this.