Author's Note: you kno, i should just stop making promises—maybe that would be the way to go. i'm sorry i didn't update when i said i would, but two certain little COUSINS got in the way...AIY, the trials of babysitting! lol, jk. now that i've made my excuses, onto the important announcements. one: for all of you who might wonder for some odd, vague reason, yes Garfield Logan is Beast Boy, and for most of the remainder of this fanfic he will be called Gar, his nickname used by friends and family. two: there will be flashbacks like the previous chapter every once and a while, cuz it links directly into the plot, so be prepared if one pops up; i'll warn you, though, so you won't be totally confused for the first few minutes of the chapter. three: i will still write about the Titans without a Beast Boy, don't worry, cuz it links into the plot, and because a certain goth chick is still living at the Tower…heh. four: my story is divided into three parts—this is the beginning of the second part, with Gar struggling to live a normal life when he wants to do anything but. if you look and the chapter titles, you will be able to tell what part you're reading. five: this chapter was really long at first, so i decided to break it down; think of it as a catch-up chapter, since it's actually really short compared to my others. i kno my chapters usually have a space of time between each other, but the next chapter happens about thirty minutes after this one. and now, last but not least, six: thank you ALL for sticking with me this far, each and every one of your reviews are gratefully appreciated. and since they are, here are your personal responses—i started with chapter six first, then did chapter seven…
dragoon-bane: yeah, it was a sad chap…but i had so much fun writing it! ugh, i'm terrible, right?
iamhollywood: aww, thanx! and ur hopes have been answered! i plan to take this story to the end, if i can, so stay tuned for more…
TDG3RD: Robin's not that bad, i just made him out to be a jerk because the story needed one…gawd, i am terrible…
rougeandkurt: why, thank you! i luv it when ppl tell me that (the 'this story rules' part)…it keeps me going! and trust me, that's sometimes hard to do…
DragonGirl: AIY! i'm sorry Robin, i turned them all against you! … heh, keep him one piece for me, alrighty? he still has some important parts in the story. like ur emotion, though!
BolenPUCR: intense was what i was going for…but, finally, someone who has something besides death wishes for Robin…lol, jk!
moonarcher: WOOHOO! got ur website this time! and guess what? you get to find out how the Titans do go along…or don't…without a Beast Boy. snickersnicker
TDG3RD: don't be too sure about not being right…you guys have a knack for guessing plotlines…
BolenPUCR: O.o … no comment
fernnu: HA! and somebody says it! yeah, both are being jerks, and they'll get set straight soon enough…thanx for the compliments XD
Storm666: like a told you, it all plays into the plot…(evil grin)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in the Teen Titans show or comics.
Bright morning sunlight streamed into Gar's bedroom, causing him to squint painfully as he eased his forest-green eyes open at the sharp, piercing call of a bluebird that had decided to make its nest right above the only window in the room. Gar carefully pushed himself up onto his elbows, fighting morning lethargy and forcing himself to abandon the warmth of his twin bed as he swung his legs over the side. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Gar blearily watched as the deep red numbers of his digital clock clicked in place to read eight o'clock. Swiftly Gar brought a fist slamming down on the top of the clock, letting only one flat BLEEP escape before the alarm fell silent. Gar leaned back, resting against the cool, smooth paint of the wall as his body switched out of sleep mode. Then, just as suddenly as he had awakened, Gar jumped off the bed, stretching and yawning, to walk in his boxers towards the door on the wall next to his bed.
His room was definitely a change from the voluminous one he had had in the Tower, but its closeness gave him a sense of security he welcomed with open arms. The room was probably just ten by eight feet, but had enough room for his bed, which sat along the foremost wall, a small nightstand that was next to the bed, a bookcase that was opposite the end of his bed, and a small desk next to the bookcase. There were two doors in his room; the one across from his bed, which led to the rest of Steve's three-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment, and one beside his nightstand, which led to one of the two bathrooms. "I thought you would like this room," Steve had said when first giving Gar the tour of their new and hopefully permanent home, "because, of course, you have your own necessary room, but also I thought you would enjoy the view." There was one window in the little room, right beside the twin bed, which looked out on the rest of downtown Jump City from six stories up, and allowed a glimpse of the bay, with the Titans Tower gleaming on the horizon. Steve had been quite right—Gar had taken on the habit of gazing out to the bay every night before he climbed in bed.
After using his 'own necessary room', Gar went over to his desk still yawning, to fish through the suitcase lying on the desk for a presentable outfit to wear. The two boxes he had brought with him from the Tower were stacked beside the bookcase, unopened, and Gar's suitcase probably would have remained unopened as well if Steve hadn't scolded Gar out of a depressed mood that had dominated him and most of the apartment for three days after his arrival. But finally Steve had violated Gar's privacy by bursting in the room one morning, threatening to pick out Gar's clothes, bathe, dress, and force-feed him if he didn't get back to life at that instant. Gar obeyed, knowing from experience Steve was one to follow through on his threats. So now, against every single one of his wishes, Gar was getting ready for his first day of tenth grade and his first official day of high school.
After pulling on T-shirt advertising a hamburger joint and a flannel shirt over it, along with a pair of cargo shorts, and taking at least five minutes to search for a matching pair of socks, Gar grabbed the backpack he and Steve had managed to buy yesterday, shoving all the school supplies he and Steve had hunted down for almost a week into it. He slung the backpack over his shoulder, walked to the door that led to out of his room, then glanced back at the room with the weird feeling that someone was watching him. He shrugged it off, however, and shut the door behind him as he made his way down the short hall that led to the apartment's kitchen, debating whether his squeamish stomach could hold cereal or Pop-tarts better.
But as soon as he stepped through the doorway of the hall into the kitchen, Gar was hit full in the face by the scent of freshly-baked pancakes and eggs, maple syrup mingling in with it all. Steve was humming cheerfully by the stove, spatula in hand and looking slightly ridiculous, as he was dressed in neatly pressed pants and a wrinkle-free shirt, tie hanging around his neck, with apple-printed oven mitts covering his hands. Two places were set at the wooden table centered in the middle of the kitchen, pancakes stacked and orange-juice poured, waiting to be devoured. Gar put his backpack on the counter outcrop that overlapped the living room, and went over to the table, his presence still unnoticed by Steve. He had put the orange-juice carton in the fridge and was just getting out some forks when Steve turned from the oven, a pan of muffins balanced on his oven mitts.
"Hey! You're up, I see," Steve exclaimed as Gar snatched a muffin from the pan, dropping it on one of the plates as he sat down, placing a fork next to the other plate. Steve placed the rest of the muffins in a jar on the counter, switching off the oven and stove before taking off his oven mitts.
"Yeah," Gar shrugged as Steve sat down next to him. "What's with the feast?"
"I figured a good breakfast to start off a good day." Steve paused, then picked up his fork and added, "The eggs were about to go bad, too." Gar, who had been about to empty a huge spoonful of the scrambled eggs on his plate, changed tack and went for his muffin instead. Steve didn't pay any attention, instead carrying on conversation between bites.
"I'm guessing you'll need a ride to school; I don't have any idea where the buses pick up around here," Steve said, spreading some syrup on his pancakes. "I'm afraid I won't be able to drag you to the entrance, I have a huge meeting at the office around nine. You'll just have the pleasure of introducing yourself to the Jump City High." He gave a sidelong glance at Gar. "Now this part is important," he continued, retrieving a piece of yellow paper from the counter and putting it in front of Gar's plate. Gar looked down at it through his orange juice. "The front office is right by the main doors. Has a huge sign that says 'Front Office,' you can't miss it. There, you give this paper to the sophomore counselor, Mrs. Rovanshuk, and she'll give you your schedule and such. Now get this story straight: you're a fifteen-year-old previous student of Azhweit's Academy of Learning, a boarding school in Maine for boys only. You came here to live with your foster father," Steve pointed at himself, "and decided you'd go on and finish the school year at Jump City High, even though you've already taken final exams and passed all of them successfully. Got it?"
At this point, Gar had stopped chewing to absorb all that he was being told. After a quick pause, he nodded and swallowed his muffin. "No finals? Sweet, that's one good thing coming my way…And don't worry, I got it," he assured at a stern look from Steve. "But why a boys only school? That makes me sound like I had no life."
Steve shrugged, sitting down again. "I didn't come up with this stuff. Though it'd be an interesting job, I've always wanted to work with the Witness Protection program, you know…You haven't touched your pancakes yet! I swear the batter was fine. Now hurry up, we have fifteen minutes to get out to the car and fight morning traffic to your school." Gar brooded glumly for a moment, then finally started on his pancakes, a loud rumble from his stomach winning over his nausea and resentment.
Unnoticed by Gar Logan or Steve Dayton, the apartment complex surveillance cameras zoomed in on them as they practically flew down the stairs and out to the parking lot, training on their two figures and even Steve's car until it receded into the incoherent city-morning blur of noise and color. The cameras especially focused on Gar, letting Melina Ragonu get perfect images of his lightly freckled face, slightly creased brow, his shock of red hair, and his limber movements as he ran down flights of stairs, his muscles pumping. "A natural athlete, that one," Melina Ragonu whispered harshly to know one in particular. "All the better…but that hair…that will have to go."
Her tool sat on a stool in the corner of the lab, waiting patiently and never questioningly to do her bidding, its black attire blending into the shadows. It knew it would be needed soon. This was how it normally was. Its master sat at the wall, plotting and scheming for hours, just staring at the moving images sometimes; IDR56 would wait in its corner, almost forgotten. Then its master would suddenly come to life, getting up and hustling around the lair with a devilish mood, preparing and barking orders to be carried out by IDR56. After that came the fun, when IDR56 executed its missions, always satisfying and amusing to it—so for now, IDR56 was content to wait, knowing it would soon be rewarded with its mission.
The screens in front of Melina Ragonu then unexpectedly changed to completely different angles and pictures, causing IDR56 to straighten itself a little more on its stool, aware of the change. A savage hope and glee flashed through its mind at the idea of its mission on the horizon. The new pictures were of a dark warehouse, crates piled high in parallel rows throughout the monstrous structure, cobwebs hanging in front of the surveillance cameras Melina Ragonu was using and covering the views in a haze around the edges. Melina Ragonu's dark eyes sifted through the images before her, and IDR56 could tell she was searching for something. It kept deathly silent, lest noise should distract its master.
But Melina Ragonu's forehead wrinkled in anger and frustration as whatever she searched for eluded her. "Dammit, come out you bastard," she spat in a low voice. "I know where you're hiding, don't think you can escape me you sniveling—"
As if in response to her words, one of the images suddenly went blank, leaving a black pit of darkness where a picture had been moments before. Melina Ragonu stared at it for a second, starting as a second image went out in the same fashion. "What—what's going on?" IDR56 leaned forward on its stool as more images went out, perturbed and interested at the same time. Nothing like this had ever happened before. And its master didn't like anything out of her ordinary…
"You BASTARD," she suddenly shrieked at the computers, furiously punching at the control panel of her computers. "You wait—"
A hushed, drawling deep voice filled the laboratory, cutting Melina Ragonu off. "Little girlie," it crooned in a bored voice, "don't you come around me. Because I know little girlie wants candy, and I'm the only one that has little girlie's money." Melina Ragonu's eye twitched, and the voice changed tone, its words indifferent but threatening. "We have a deal, Ragonu; you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. But that deal goes only so far…you know when and where. Keep true, I'd quite hate to dispose of a promising ally…"
The voice faded, and the images came back, but of a busy parking lot right outside a sports utility store. Melina Ragonu frowned at the wall, a dangerous light in her eyes. She then began muttering rapidly to herself, falling back into her schemes and plots once more. IDR56 settled back against the wall and assumed its waiting for its mission, the odd message gone from its mind as abruptly as the message had ended. Its master was the one to handle the backwater dangers.