Author's Note: aw, man, i feel extremely guilty—srry for making u guyz wait so long once again. see, i had this chapter divided into two before, but then it didn't flow as well and i was stretching it out too long, so i was just like whatever, i'll just make it one chapter…so yeah, that took forever to do after it took forever for me to write the two chapters. srry once again! i just got wrapped up in junk…whew. it is NOT easy, writing a fanfic, no matter wat u've been told. but anywayz, don't worry friends, this fanfic is far from over…i also hav a favor to ask of those who read my jabbering—if you have any information on Teen Titan characters from the comics, share ur knowledge! U'll find out soon enough wat it'll be used for, and by the kindness of TGD3RD and my own creativity, i already hav a few ideas up my sleeve. so now to ur personal replies and further into the story…

rogueandkurt: and now i'm back again…MUHAHAHA. heehee, jk. interesting questions, but i'm not gonna answer them (grins mischeviously) of course, u keep guessin like this and u'll hav the plot down in no time….IEEHH! srry i didn't update sooner!

TTstorm: i'm glad ur loving this story, and i can't wait to see wat happens next either! GNAH. again, i'm srry for the delay…

BolenPUCR: don't worry, u won't be disappointed in the BBRae interaction…oy, i'm gonna have to start making official apologies at the top for not updating sooner, i'm getting tired of having to keep writing them out…(massages temples)

TDG3RD: man, u are like one of the best reviewers ever! Sticking with me like this…don't kno how u do it. thanx for the emails and advice, and i'm giving half of the credit for my non-green jokes in this chapter to u!

dragoon-bane: SRRY ABOUT THE DELAY. Seriously, u guyz'll see a huge apology in bold at the top next time, if i take too long again…

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in the Teen Titans show or comics.

"Have you tried opening a slot in S.T.A.R.R labs for him? They have the best medical care for metahumans in the world and might be able to help."

Superman's face loomed over Robin and Cyborg on the transmit screen, waiting for a response to his suggestion. Batman also listened to the conversation, his face sharing the screen with Superman's. Both had graciously stopped their normal rounds to talk with Robin and Cyborg about Beast Boy's dilemma. Robin now stood in front of the screen, Cyborg leaning against a table further back. After the team had finished their discussion, Raven stayed behind to monitor Beast Boy's health while Starfire had left the Tower to talk to Jump City's police department about the whole attack and whether any leads had been picked up. Robin had left rather hastily to the main room, taking Cyborg with him. Cyborg had obediently followed, though without a clue of what Robin was going to do. He had been easily surprised when Robin told him that he had put in a call for Superman and Batman, knowing of the tensions between Robin and his mentor. No outbreaks had happened yet, however, and the conversation so far had actually been civilized.

"We don't need physicians," Cyborg countered, a little more fiercely than he had meant to. "We need geneticists, we need nanosurgeons; probably radiologists too. Anyone who can figure out what radiation caused Beast Boy's genes to go whack and how to reverse it."

"S.T.A.R.R. is known for their technology concerning metahumans, which includes those types of professions, Cyborg," Superman replied.

"But they would have to run numerous tests, which could take weeks, and analyze the results, which would take months. We don't know if he'd agree to sit and let strangers prod him for that long."

"Yes, but it's not as if he would be cut off from the rest of the world either, Robin. Most likely he'd be able to leave when they aren't testing him, and he wouldn't have to stay at the facility while they analyze the tests. He'd be perfectly fine."

"Unless they determined the radiation he was exposed to is dangerous in some way," Batman commented. Superman's eyes flickered to where Batman must have been on his monitor screen. He raised an eyebrow slightly as if to ask Batman whose side he was really on. "It's true. S.T.A.R.R. has an obligation to keep humans as well as metahumans safe."

"Whatever hit Beast Boy, though, we know is not dangerous," Robin said, almost hotly.

"You don't know that. You're just assuming."

Cyborg quickly broke in before Robin decided to shoot a stupid remark back. "No one else has complained of average radiation reactions, or died because of mysterious reasons, according to the police and health department. As far as we can tell, the only effects of the radiation have concerned Beast Boy."

"As far as you can tell."

Okay. Cyborg was beginning to see why Robin wasn't always too fond of Batman.

"The most we can do for you is guarantee an appointment at the facility, and we'll only do that if your friend is willing," Superman sighed, noticing tensions were starting to climb. "So at least run the idea by him."

"We can do that."

"Send a module of his genetic code to me."

"What?" Cyborg exclaimed, not meaning to be rude—but he was a little perturbed. Someone's genetic code isn't exactly something you should give out.

"Why?" Robin questioned a second later.

"I didn't become a crime fighter by sheer luck." Robin fumed a bit, Cyborg and Superman left to wonder if Batman had meant that remark the way Robin was taking it. "I can study it myself, and possibly help the situation."

"We just can't hand out his personal information—"

"To a complete stranger?" Robin scowled. "Have it sent to my headquarters." The screen went black on Batman's side, since he apparently had decided to sign off. Robin turned around, his back facing Superman so he could fume a bit more in peace.

"…I'll see about S.T.A.R.R. Call me up again if he wants to go on and try it." Superman gazed at Robin's back and waited for Cyborg's unsure "Sure," before he signed off. As soon as both heroes had gone back to their own concerns, the room became awfully quiet. Cyborg let Robin continue in silence a little longer, then came up to his side. "Is he always that impossible?"

Robin gave a harsh chuckle and turned to face Cyborg with a sigh. "Yeah. This time he also didn't want to talk to me."

Cyborg's forehead raised in query, and he waited for Robin's explanation. Robin sighed and gazed up at his teammate. "You know what I have to do if we can't find a way to get Beast Boy back to…the way he was." It was a statement, not a question.

Cyborg stared at Robin, knowing exactly what Robin would have to do. "I hope I don't."

Robin meant Cyborg's eyes, guessing that Cyborg knew. "I don't want to," Robin practically whispered. He cleared his voice, and said more strongly, "It's not fair. It happened to me, and it wasn't fair. But I have to. You know?" That was a question. A pleading one, too.

"Yeah," Cyborg said, placing a hand on Robin's shoulder. "I understand." He just hoped that Beast Boy would understand. "Let's go ask B.B. about this S.T.A.R.R. lab thing first," Cyborg continued after a pause. "No need to rush." Or give up hope, he thought.

Two Days Later (if you want to know):

Steve Dayton rested his head on the seat's headrest, trying to calm his gurgling stomach as the airplane he rode violently rocked back and forth, the fasten seatbelts signs glowing orange and blinking. His stomach was bothering for two reasons: one, because this was the worst turbulence he had ever experienced in his life of plane trips across the globe, and two, because he was at last only an hour away from seeing the foster son he had not seen for over two years.

He had heard of the many victories of the Teen Titans, praising them for their success whenever he had the chance, and freely suffering with them in their losses and defeats as well. It was hard, letting who he considered to be his son live a life full of danger as the changeling superhero Beast Boy, but Steve himself had learned how to live a life full of hidden fear and apprehension towards his son nothing was supposed to be wrong. None of the other Titans, from what Steve knew, had parents, family members, or guardians on or near Earth. It was public gossip turned to knowledge that Robin's family was dead, Starfire for certain an alien, and Raven…well, no one knew much of that one, but it taken pretty much for fact that she had no relations whatsoever as well. Cyborg, the half-human and half-machine one, might have parents or siblings somewhere, but Steve had been strictly told that he was not to contact anyone who may be related to or close to one of the Titans, and he was never to reveal his relation to Beast Boy for safety and threat purposes. The rule was enforced strongly by Jump City's local government and the United States government, along with many of the members of the famous Justice League, so Steve wasn't to keen to break it.

Even if he might be lonely in his quiet worry for the Teen Titan Beast Boy, Steve was still grateful for what contact and privileges he was presented in this area. Being an international social worker for America, Steve Dayton was rarely at Jump City, where his residence was presently recorded. He had never moved his residence or base office of operations away from there, wanting to remain as close as possible to the Titans when his work didn't call for him. A two bedroom apartment downtown was under his name and covered in dust, so rarely was he there. His work interfered with Steve ever having a typical life and his contact with his son. Emails aren't always the best form of family love. Two visits were allowed a year for Steve to see him, but Steve was usually at of town if not across the world during these assigned times. At first Steve was frustrated he was never able to make the meetings, then he finally made a compromise with those who regulated the meetings and his employers: he would always be allowed to take a week to spend with Beast Boy at his birthday, as he had originally asked Robin and Cyborg.

This compromise performed greatly for the first year, but soon it proved useless as Steve's most important meetings and work events began to mysteriously fall upon the same days he was going to spend time in Jump City. That's why Steve was so excited about flying into Jump City, because he was ready to see his son and catch up in his live. And according to the emails Steve had been receiving for the past week, he wasn't the only one excited. It had taken many hot discussions and tedious persuasive talks for Steve to gain the week's rest he was now taking in Jump City, but when it was granted, it hadn't taken much time for Steve to pack his bags and be ready for the next flight out.

So now Steve was sitting in an airplane thirty minutes away from Jump City, trying not to cover the back of a woman's head with half-digested peanuts and beer, his luggage below him, thinking about what cleaner would be best for removing inches of dirt or dust, or if you even used cleaner. He really hoped his son hadn't changed that much.

He was almost packed.

It was a relevant fact, cardboard boxes lying scattered around the room, posters stripped from the walls and leaving dusty, off-color rectangular patches where they had been resting only a day before. The bunk bed was neatly made for once, no wrinkles ruining the smooth, sky-blue sheets. Various comic books and Sports Illustrated or the rare and usually snitched Playboy magazines had vanished from the ground and bookshelf, any trace of clutter lifted from the spotless, carpeted floor. No alarm clock gleamed on a desk, and no video games littered the small television table. Curtains were gone from the squat window beside the top bunk bed, a shadow of harsh light shining in the room to give it a dull, sun bleached look. If Beast Boy hadn't known better, he would've said there could be no possible way this had once been his room—it appeared too clean, to unlived in. But then again, that's what he was trying to do, make it looked as if it had never been lived in, right?

Beast Boy was standing in the center of the desolate space, next to him a stool with a medium-sized suitcase on it. It was half-full of books, video games and some clothes, but all seemed as if they had messily been thrown in moments before, which actually had happened. Two boxes were stacked beside the suitcase and stool, set apart from the rest of the boxes milling around the bookshelf and bed on one side of the room, and around the desk and cabinet dresser on the other side of the room. The top box was still opened, its black mouth yawning for more objects. The bottom box was sealed safely with duct tape wrapped around all corners of it—Beast Boy wasn't the best packer—and the words "Closet Stuff" were scrawled slapdash on all the sides in black marker. Most of the other boxes were already sealed and ready for storage. The cabinet dresser was still covered in papers, trash, dirty socks, and nachos, though, in contrast to the speck-free room surrounding it. A large, empty aquarium sat on the desk next to the cabinet, a desk lap to the left of it. It had taken Beast Boy a day and a half to get his room into this condition, which was pretty good for him; he had worked on it day and night, cleaning and packing, really the one thing he could do to keep himself busy. He had no desire to see the others, and snuck out of his room for snacks so he wouldn't starve each night only when he couldn't hear anyone through the air conditioning vent on his wall. He had learned about two years ago his vent connected directly to the Tower's main room and kitchen. And they said he wasn't resourceful.

Beast Boy reached up his hand to hold his nose as he felt a sneeze come on, probably triggered by the loose dust floating in the room; suddenly he halted the hand as it came into his view, a pale white ghost of an arm. He glanced timidly behind his back, catching a glimpse of the bright red hair he now sported and a pale, freckled face with forest-green eyes in the mirror sitting on the cabinet dresser…an image that he was slowly forcing himself to think as his. He shivered, sneezing at the same time. It was as hard to him as it was to his teammates to get used to his new look. Every time he caught a glimpse of his reflection, it was hard for him not to double-back and make sure it was him. He didn't wear his Teen Titan uniform anymore—all of them were packed up in one of the boxes next to the bookshelf, taped tightly shut. Now he was wearing tennis shoes, a pair of cargo shorts, an old white T-shirt and a blue, button-down shirt unbuttoned with sleeves rolled back to his elbows overtop. An outfit you usually wouldn't catch a Teen Titan in, that's for sure.

And he didn't want to be caught in it, either. In fact, the whole outfit somewhat disgusted him—of course it wasn't the clothes' fault. It wasn't even his fault. He was wearing the clothes of an average teenager, and even he wasn't such an idiot that he didn't know what that was supposed to mean. On two scarce occasions would the Titans be out of uniform: they were going undercover, or they had something personal to attend to, not concerning their superhero agenda. Both ways, the Titans would not be meant to be a part of the team for that period of time. They would be on leave, only contacting the team for emergency or useful information.

Worst thing was that two days ago, Beast Boy found out he wouldn't be donning his costume anymore, for neither of those scarce two reasons.

"No!"

The word had been flat and hard in Beast Boy's mouth as he had spit it out. A strange ferocity usually absent in Beast Boy's whole personality, let alone his voice, had been present then; it had been so vicious Cyborg had involuntarily taken a step back. Beast Boy had ignored the taken aback expression on Cyborg's face, crossing his arms sternly.

"But Beast Boy—" Robin had tried again, only to be interrupted again.

"No. I won't." They just hadn't seemed to get the message.

Robin had sighed and put a hand to his forehead, clearly exasperated. "Why are you being so stubborn? Right now it's the only chance you have! Cyborg may be genius, but he can't fix your genetic code."

Beast Boy had glared at Robin and then had switched to Cyborg, wanting to believe Cyborg could fix everything. Cyborg had shaken his head. "I'm sorry, B.B., but Robin's right on this one. S.T.A.R.R. is the top facility for superheroes and such in the world, and they have the best chance of helping you."

Beast Boy had been silent for a minute, both Cyborg and Robin wishing he was thinking the proposition through and changing his mind. They had been disappointed. Beast Boy had had more than enough experience with hospitals than he had ever wanted—people aren't always anxious to let a green boy from Africa come to America unquestioningly. Nearly two years of his life had been spent in a smelly, disgusting research lab in North Africa before he was allowed overseas. He hated that process, and now had a personal vengeance against any form of a hospital.

"I'm sorry, I just…can't."

Robin had thrown up his arms, collapsing at the end of the couch. Beast Boy had looked away, and Cyborg had walked in a tight circle once, at loss for what to do next. A distant siren sounded somewhere in the city, seagulls cawing at the docks. Standing up again, Robin had crossed his arms and stared at Beast Boy, who had been sitting on the back of the couch, carefully observing the bay as it gleamed outside. "Fine." Cyborg and Beast Boy had turned to him. "Fine. But that was your last resort."

Beast Boy had kept looking at Robin, confused for a minute. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said. It meant exactly what I said." Cyborg had peered quickly at Robin, Beast Boy seeing out of the corner of his eye but Robin ignoring him. The team leader had been frustrated about the whole situation, and had wanted to get over what he had to get over.

Beast Boy had shaken his head. Robin's meaning had totally escaped him. "Dude, I—"

"I can't let you fight crime like this." Robin had waved a hand at Beast Boy, obviously referring to Beast Boy's ungreen and powerless state. The expression on Cyborg's face had made him look as if he felt like smacking Robin—clearly, he hadn't thought you should crush someone's life with a temper.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Beast Boy had commanded, standing up defensively. His temper was starting to rise, too.

"It means…" Without any warning all the fight had left Robin, and he had turned his back to Beast Boy abruptly, running a gloved hand through his hair. "Unless we can ensure your safety, you can't be put in danger." Robin's voice had cracked, and he turned around again. "Your powers ensured your safety before, but now…" He had looked at Beast Boy desperately, silently begging him to understand as he had with Cyborg.

Beast Boy had stared at Robin, stunned. "You're kicking me off"

Cyborg had grimaced when Beast Boy shouted the last word. Robin had stepped back, shaking his head. Neither had said anything.

"You—you can't…that's not…You're joking, you have to be." Beast Boy had attempted to give a weak laugh, but instead had felt an unbelievable urge to turn into the smallest living thing possible and hide. Lucky him, he could've done that anytime four days ago.

Cyborg had cut in, wanting to offer once again a way out. "It's not too late, you can still go to S.T.A.R.R.—"

A livid flame then had suddenly lit up in Beast Boy's chest, making him feel light and dizzy. This isn't happening, he had thought. This isn't happening. "NO!I will not go to a freaking hospital. It'd be like kicking me off the team anyways, either way you win—"

"No one's trying to win anything, B.B.—"

"How could you guys do this to me?" Beast Boy had blinked his eyes furiously, his vision blurring at the edges. Robin had still been shaking his head, his mouth in a straight, thin line. Cyborg had simply gazed at Beast Boy, afraid to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. "This isn't fair."

At Beast Boy's last word, Robin had snapped out of his spell, his head ceasing to shake. "I'm sorry…Beast Boy. Your foster father is on the way, and everything was prepared to contact him if you were to refuse other offers."

"But—why can't I still live here? I don't have to fight—" It had been a weak argument, Beast Boy knew, but he had been hopelessly grasping at anything.

"Remember the time Slade breached the security defenses? I'm sorry. Don't make this hard."

"But that was Terra's—"

"I'm sorry, Beast Boy. Please."

Beast Boy had watched his two friends helplessly, his mouth slightly open in disbelieve that they were actually going through with this. He had tried to say something more, but couldn't. Numbly, he had then left them standing there and had made his way to his room, telling himself this was all a bad dream. A very bad dream. As soon as he got into his room, he had sat on the bottom bunk and pulled his knees to his chest.

Later he had found out from Cyborg also that Robin and he had spoken to Superman and Batman three days before. He also found out that both of the leading superheroes really hadn't been too enthusiastic about his "recovery". Yeah right. Beast Boy knew how it worked. When all else fails, send them for probing to keep everyone busy and out of trouble.

Beast Boy suddenly collapsed against the desk behind him, almost missing it completely because he had been so far away. He leaned against it, staring up at the ceiling. Whoa, he thought. Since when did I become so cynical? He was starting to sound like Raven. Or at least Robin on a bad day.

He jerked his head up at the hiss and quiet click of the door to his room beginning to open, quickly standing up and desperately looking for something to leap behind so he could hide. Not that he was afraid of seeing any of his friends of course, he was just…okay, maybe he was a little afraid. But it didn't matter anyway, because unless he sprinted for the closet and pulled the door shut in less than a second, there wasn't anywhere for him to go. Sighing, he turned as the door slid all the way open, a guilty and tense kind of half-smile slapped on his face. It disappeared, though, as soon as he saw who was standing hesitantly at his door, shifting weight from leg to leg.

It was Raven.

He stood staring at her for a second, surprised and petrified at the same time. He had taken careful precautions as to not run into her for the past couple of days—and now here she was, standing at his door…striding in after another moment's hesitation…giving him a small smile as the door swooshed shut…and he continued staring at her. Her large, navy eyes stared at him, too, and she stopped in front of him. "Hi," she said almost shyly, but with her face remaining blank.

Abruptly realizing how ridiculous he must look, Beast Boy swiftly turned around, grabbing a sock off the cabinet dresser and going over to the suitcase. "Uh, hi," he said quickly, smoothing out the sock to keep his hands busy. Raven didn't answer, and Beast Boy delicately laid the sock in the suitcase, on top of the MEGAS RX video game. An awkward silence settled over the two friends, with both bursting to explain their feelings to the other but not quite knowing how to start. So they didn't start.

Beast Boy sniffed and cleared his throat, pointedly keeping his eyes on the ground. He stole a glance at Raven, who was now watching the stacked boxes with examining eyes. Beast Boy opened his mouth to say something, but a strange little squeak emerged instead. Embarrassed beyond all reason, he blushed vividly as Raven turned her head towards him again, and looked at him questioningly. He scratched his ear and tried again, staring at the suitcase now. "Was…was there something you needed?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "Not really. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Wow. Raven coming to see how he was doing? That was a definite first. He shrugged. "Um, I'm doing fine. Almost packed." He gestured vaguely towards the boxes.

"Oh. That's…good." Even with her monotone voice in place, Beast Boy could tell she didn't mean it.

Silence stretched on again, causing Beast Boy to go over and grab a couple of papers that most likely didn't mean anything to him at all, but he grabbed them just the same to keep his hands busy. He began folding them to stuff in a pocket of the suitcase, when he looked up at Raven, determined to find out if was here to talk to him about something important or just to say goodbye. Raven was apparently getting ready to tell him, for they both opened their mouths and spoke at the same time.

"I hope you—"

"Listen, I just wanted to—"

Both stopped at the same time, too, waiting for the other to go on.

"Sorry, you can go on," Beast Boy said apologetically.

"No, you started first," Raven opposed.

"I can wait."

Neither were too sure whether they wanted to share now.

Raven turned her head towards the small window. "You haven't been around lately. You know, always in here." She turned back towards him.

"Yeah, well I've been busy." He put the papers in a pocket, bracing himself against the top of the suitcase. He gazed at the tough, brown leather, knowing Raven was studying him.

"I know this isn't going to sound like something I would ask, but bear with me," Raven blurted without warning. Beast Boy looked up at her face curiously. His green eyes locked on her navy-blue ones as she spoke again. "Are you sure you're okay with…everything that's been happening? The change and resignation? You locked yourself up in here after you talked to Cyborg and Robin, and haven't come out for at least two days. Longer than me and that's saying something."

She waited for his answer, and he pulled his eyes back to the suitcase. "Yeah. I'm sure I'm fine." He got up and went over to the desk, reaching over and taking the lamp off of the desktop. He wound up the cord as he walked back over to the suitcase, and began to try to put the lamp into the top box stacked next to the stool. "Why wouldn't I be?"

If Raven had been allowed to show emotion, Beast Boy was pretty sure she would've rolled her eyes and slapped him. He would've slapped himself. Instead she simply said, "I don't think you are."

"Then you're wrong," Beast Boy said stubbornly, though at the exact moment he was thinking, She's right, she's right. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" He repeated faintly. He hefted the lamp and tried to place it in the box again. "Now I can go out in public without someone asking if I have cousins on Mars or if I ate too much broccoli."

It was an extremely stupid joke, and Beast Boy immediately wished he hadn't made it. Suddenly a loud crack sounded, echoing deafeningly across the room and down the air vent, making Beast Boy jump a couple inches into the air as glass shards flew at the opposite wall, burying themselves in the plaster. One narrowly missed Beast Boy's head. Open-mouthed, he turned look at Raven just as her hair settled back along her face, his aquarium demolished and in pieces on the desk. Only the plastic bottom remained, with a few jagged glass shards sticking up from the base. He gaped at the scene, wondering if anything else had blown up that might've been more important.

"That's not something to joke about," Raven said calmly, her temper under control again. "It wasn't funny, either."

Beast Boy dropped the lamp in the box, still a tad stunned. He nodded speechlessly, unsure of what to say next.

"I exploded a couple of dishes when I found out you were leaving," Raven pointed out, quieter than usual. She looked away from Beast Boy as she said it. "I would prefer to leave the tally at that and your aquarium, if you don't mind."

"I…sure." Beast Boy finally said. He silently went over and stood against the cabinet dresser, next to Raven. She looked back at him, taking a moment to see the barely perceptible dancing present in Beast Boy's eyes, one she hadn't seen since that morning downtown. Confused, she shifted unnerved. The corners of Beast Boy's mouth tugged upwards. "A couple of dishes? So…guess that means I'm not unbearably annoying after all, huh?"

Raven resisted the urge to smile too, even though she was equally embarrassed and irked at the same time. "Don't bet on it," she stated evenly. Beast Boy's smile widened, his dark mood momentarily forgotten.

"I won't," he teased, earning a death glare from Raven.

They were interrupted by the hiss and click of the door opening, and both turned to see Robin standing there, a worried expression on his face. He stared at the two as they stared at him, as surprised as Beast Boy had been to have a visit from Raven to find them in a room, alone, with Beast Boy unharmed. Beast Boy's bright mood instantly expired at sight of Robin, memories of his dismissal from the team sharp in his mind again.

"Sorry, I thought I heard…an explosion or something," Robin said, tentatively looking at Raven. She was looking at Beast Boy, noticing his blank face and dull eyes were back. She felt Robin's eyes on her and pointed at the aquarium.

"You did."

Robin's eyes processed the image of the aquarium, wondering as Beast Boy had whether anything else had blown up that might've been more important. "Right…uh, sorry." He quickly left, not wanting to be around Beast Boy anymore than he had to. The door slid shut, leaving Beast Boy and Raven alone again. Beast Boy was impassively staring at the shut door.

Raven watched him a moment more. "Well," she said, guessing her time with Beast Boy had come to a halt. She was very perceptive on knowing when people wanted to be left alone—takes one to know one, as the saying went. "If you're okay, then I promised Starfire I'd go to the mall with her for a while. There's some left over pizza in the fridge if you want some. Cheese pizza." Raven stepped over to the door.

Beast Boy's conscience jerked awake again. "Right. Thanks. Have fun." He didn't mean to sound abrupt, but he couldn't do much to help it.

Raven hovered by the door a little longer, waiting to see if Beast Boy had any last words. He grabbed some more socks, however, and headed back over to his suitcase. Raven mentally sighed, then went out of the room, leaving Beast Boy as she had found him: alone.

Steve Dayton swiftly pulled out his cell phone as it vibrated on his belt, heaving his carry on baggage out from underneath of his chair. He flipped it open and held it to his ear, simultaneously trying not to drop his laptop off his shoulder and losing his suitcase in the hustle everyone was putting forth to leave the plane. You'd think they were all running from their deaths, he thought irritably. "Hello?" he said in a much nicer tone than he felt like using. This had better be good.

"Hello Mr. Dayton," replied an emotionless, bass voice. It cackled with static, and Steve had the feeling he was about to listen to a month-old recorded message concerning the benefits he would experience if he switched to Bellsouth or something along those lines. Before he could hang up, however, the next phrase captivated him into listening carefully and thoroughly.

"This is Agent Smith Nukles of the Crime Investigation Alliance Department, contacting you on behalf of your foster son, whose name will not be disclosed at this point for safety purposes."

Steve grabbed his suitcase and pushed his way into the aisle, following the flow of passengers off the plane, keeping the phone close to his ear. It was definitely a recorder message, but he kept listening sincerely wishing this call was going to be about something extremely good. Wishing, note.

"This call is only to be forwarded in the case of an emergency," Steve let out a groan, causing others around him to glance at him, annoyed. He was now walking down the metal chute to the gate, as fast as possible. "This message may also be forwarded in the case of a serious malpractice or death concerning your foster son's involvement with the crime fighting team the Teen Titans." Steve didn't groan this time, but blinked once and swallowed a mouth full of air, now wishing for the first or second reason mentioned. His pace slowed a bit. "The next recorded message will be a detailed account of the situation from the Teen Titans leader or law enforcement leader of Jump City. Please wait a moment." The line went silent for a second, causing Steve to stop completely, then came alive again with the solemn voice of a young man. Steve began walking again, beginning to feel suffocated in the small chute as the suspense continued.

"Mr. Dayton, this is leader of the Teen Titans, codename Robin, speaking. I am contacting you on behalf of your foster son, codename Beast Boy." Steve Dayton ruled out the possibility of malpractice, thinking the law enforcement leader would be talking now if it were so. That still left two other unpleasant situations unreckoned for.

Steve was now outside the chute, and stepped over to listen to the rest of the message right outside the loading area. "Last Saturday, date 4-21-00 (A/N: fill it in), around ten hundred hours, codename Beast Boy was hit and exposed to an unknown radiation by an unknown criminal figure." Steve sucked in a deep breath through squeezed lips, the ground rushing up at him. He then felt a little better at the next sentence, but he became suspicious as well. "Codename Beast Boy experienced no traumatic injuries, nor did he experience any of the effects of average radiation dosage.

"Instead, I am sad to say, this unknown radiation caused a mutation of codename Beast Boy's genetic code, changing his physical appearance and eliminating his metahuman abilities. It is the Teen Titans' duty to care for the citizens of Jump City and keep them safe from harm. Mr. Dayton, your foster son is now a citizen of Jump City, his leadership position of a metahuman protector withheld at the loss of his powers. Being in immediate danger at the Teen Titans headquarters and in the presence of any Teen Titans members, codename Beast Boy cannot stay with the Teen Titans law-enforcing unit without violating all protocol made towards the unit's situation. He is scheduled to leave headquarters in twenty-six hours; a helicopter will rendezvous with you at San Francisco airport to bring you immediately to Jump City. As codename Beast Boy's legal guardian, you are required to care for him as of March 23, 0000 (A/N: fill it in, again), until codename Beast Boy is of legal age, or a remedy has been found for his condition. Thank you for your time."

The line went dead with a small click, leaving Steve to stare at the luggage trolley cruising by with clear incredulity. He slowly brought the cell phone down from his ear as passengers continued to trickle out of the loading chute, and shoved the phone in his pants pocket. He reached down to pick up his suitcase and carry-on baggage, pondering whether the whole call had been cruel prank. While he was thinking up reasons someone would want to pull something like that one him, a petite, dark female pilot appeared out of nowhere beside him. She was dressed in the normal uniformed attire of Delta airlines, and a small, glossy gold pin read 'Pilot Chanvez' on her shirt front. She was at least two feet shorter than Steve's towering frame, but her black eyes darted back and forth against his form as she observed him. Clearing his throat, Steve asked rather politely, "Yes? Can I help you?"

"You Steve Dayton?" she asked back, her voice lower and huskier than he would have expected. Her pilot hat sat over her eyes now, so Steve couldn't guess why she wanted him.

"Yeah, that's me, ma'am." He paused for her to tell him.

"A helicopter due to leave to Jump City in twenty minutes is waiting for you on the roof up the staircase five gates to the left of here," Chavez said lightly, handing him a slip of paper that looked very similar to a ticket. "Give this to the pilot."

Steve took the paper, knowing with a sick feeling the phone message had not been a prank or joke of any kind at all. He stared at the paper for a moment longer, then took off at the fastest sprint he could carrying at least twenty extra pounds, whispering a tiny, "Oh dear."