Hopefully this clears up a few of the issues...not all, of course, where would a story be in that?

Thanks so much to all the reviewers! RavenSis, jumpstarter, tennisgal456, BerryDrops, SuPeR HyPeR chick 101, raeXXstarry, cartoonfire, so not telling, shattered-hearts-602, xForeverLovex, lilacprincessmay, BeautiiQueen, lil love fan, SaoirseWaveglow, Sta-R-obin, and XxNightfirexX.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything below.

"Where are you taking me?" the five-year-old girl whimpered, clutching her stuffed ferret to her chest. The man she was addressing growled, ripping the animal out of her arms. He grabbed her hand and stalked out the door of the girl's former home and into a shiny black limo.

"Get in the car."

"No!" said the girl definiantly. "Mommy says never to go anywhere with strangers! I want Mommy!"

The man grabbed her crimson hair, pulling it towards the car as she cried out in pain. "Too bad. Mommy's dead, and so is Daddy. We own you now. You will obey my every order, or..." He yanked her hair again. "I'll make you pay."

She whimpered again, but didn't make another sound the entire car ride. The man was on the phone, speaking to someone she couldn't hear. Already, she knew this man was bad news. Her had a dark scowl permanently plastered to his face, and his shabby suit looked extremely out of place in the expensive limo. He glared at her while speaking, and the girl quickly looked away.

"...Right here, I've got the brat..."

"...Mr. Roth'll want her started immediately..."

"...Sorry, Dr. Travers, of course, your orders..."

"...Nearly there..."

The car slowed to a halt, and the girl was shoved out roughly. "Start walking. Fast." She did as she was told without hesitation, minding her burning scalp. A gigantic building stood before her, at least fifteen stories high with smokestacks on top. From the little reading she could do, she figured out that the first word up at the very top of the building said "Roth." The second was harder to sound out. "In," "dust," "tries." She had no idea what that meant.

The man led her to an elevator and pressed the "emergency" button. Instead of an alarm sounding, the entire panel flipped around with only two buttons on the reverse side. One was "15" and the other was "Basement." The man pushed the latter, and the elevator jerked it's way downwards.

When the doors opened, it wasn't your average basement that was revealed. A spotless white lab, with white-coated people bustling everywhere, lay before the mesmerized girl's eyes. She saw flashing buttons and glistening, slimy goo in containers of all sizes. The noise was a mild wind of tensed voices. She was kicked towards a large tube in the middle of the hubbub, which was currently being filled with an ominous red substance.

"What now, Doctor?" the middle-aged man she'd grown to deeply despise asked one of the men in white coats.

"Put her to sleep." The girl screamed as a giant needle approached her, but the man held her down as it pierced her neck. Everything went black.

Kory Anders woke in a cold sweat, shivering at her last memory before thirteen years of darkness.

"You're so sweet! Are you sure you're okay with going off to Jump by yourself? I could always come with you, you know. I wouldn't mind at all. How could I, you're the sweetest thing! Always have a compliment for me! Be careful, Mr. Grayson, or I might think you're hitting on me," Katrina Moth simpered, attempting to wink and failing. She flipped her hair and strutted away, much to Richard Grayson's relief.

Dick didn't really know how he'd gotten stuck with "Kitten" at the dinner party his foster father, Bruce, was throwing. He'd made the mistake of taking her out on a date once, and she'd never stopped hounding him since. The girl had the brains of a pea, very possibly less, and all she wore was pink. He never wanted to see the stupid color again.

Kitten wasn't the only one. More than half of the female population of Gotham was out to get Dick Grayson, the gorgeous millionaire, for themselves. As if. They had a ten times better chance of winning the lottery twice in a row. He had supermodels at his feet twenty-four/seven. He had an actual bodyguard to get him through crowds if he decided to go out for a night or two, which didn't happen very often. He had the top job at the world's leading company secured. He had prime ministers and kings greeting him every time he went out of the country, even on vacation. He had all this, and he hadn't even inherited Bruce Wayne's fortune yet.

And frankly, he was sick of it.

He'd been trapped inside Wayne Manor for two weeks now, since there were mobs of women crowding the front porch after he admitted to the pestering media that he'd broken up with his girlfriend, the commisioner's daughter Barbara Gordon. The whole Manor was on code red security, and even then, bimbos like Kitten managed to get in and bug him about it. At a dinner party, though, he supposed it wasn't hard for even a Paris Hilton clone like herself to bribe those idiotic bodyguards into letting her in. As if they didn't get paid enough.

For once, would it be too much to ask to go out at night, by himself, and be left alone for a millesecond to do whatever he wanted? He wouldn't have to uphold the company's image, he wouldn't have to worry about disgracing Bruce, and he could just be...him. Or at least, the bad side of him, which had been bottled up for as long as he could remember. He hated reading about how he was voted not only Teen Heartthrob of the Year and Richest Teen Alive, but Model Citizen of Teenage Gotham as well. That wasn't true at all. Whatever he did, Bruce had made him do. Whenever he was handing a hundred thousand dollar check to an orphanage, it was Bruce right next to him saying, "Just keep smiling and nodding, it's all publicity, Dick." Same thing went when he "helped out" picking up litter from around Gotham's streets. It was disgusting, but Bruce was willing to sell him to keep Wayne Enterprises going. Some of his obsessiveness may have rubbed off on Dick, but not all. He wished, just one time, people wouldn't wave and clap when he went by, murmuring to their neighbors about how wonderful he was. Couldn't they understand, it wasn't him! The guilt he'd felt over taking the title that probably belonged to anyone but him had long since given way to anger. Was everyone so stupid they couldn't recognize a normal person when they saw one? For goodness's sake, he wasn't a god.

There was a banging on the window of the dining room. "Dick! Dick! It's me, Iris! I'm your--" Iris was quickly shoved back into the crowd by a hulking bodyguard, and Dick sighed. Apparently, he couldn't even be on the first floor anymore.

Grabbing his laptop, he was about to run up the stairs before another crazed fangirl approached him, but was stopped by his adoptive father. "How long do you think this is going to go on?"

"Forever," Dick groaned. "I won't even make it on the plane to Jump. I'll be trampled with fangirls long before then."

Bruce chuckled. "You just have to be so charming." Dick scowled.

Jump City. His (hopefully) getaway. Far from Gotham, maybe he wouldn't have quite as many people following him all the time. He'd be spending his entire senior year of high school there, living with one of his only trusted friends, Rachel Roth's, boyfriend. She would have had him, she had said, but her father was in a bad way since one of his factories blew up a few weeks ago. And when Tristan Roth was "in a bad way," not even Bruce Wayne questioned his decisions. Dick had never met Mr. Roth, but Bruce had said he was "intimidating." Hearing that word come out of Bruce's mouth was like the apocalypse. But Dick would put up with anything to get away from Gotham right now.

"You're packed, right, Dick? You can take the jet over instead, alright? I really don't think this crowd is going anywhere."

"Thanks." Bruce was about to walk away to talk to more guests, but stopped.

"I've got something to give you before you go. Make sure you check in with me."

Kory only had to walk five feet to get to her bedroom to her kitchen. Her house was small, but all she could afford. Still, it was better than the streets, what she'd been living on for the past few weeks. Everything was so confusing, her mind would oftentimes blank out with all the new information it had to remember. Still, she was managing. Just barely. At least, her mind seemed better adapted than it had before. She learned very, very quickly. Every single bit of her free time was spent studying to get her brain caught up with her age. She'd always been brilliant as a child, and boy, was it helping her now. It would take every fiber of her being to learn how to live on her own. If not, someone would find her, and she would be taken away to Roth Industries again...

She had no memory of the past thirteen years, none at all. All she knew was that something had happened to her, something horrible, and there was a very good chance she would not survive in this virtually unknown world.

Sorry for the big paragraphs in Dick's POV. Kory's introductions are yet to take place, but I hope this has become a little bit less confusing.