"This is foolhardy," Raven criticized as they pulled up into the bar's parking lot. "You're the only one old enough to legally drink anyway. They'll never believe we just happened to come here together."

"We're just two coworkers going out for a drink," Vic said in his silky tone, you know, the one that made everything sound reasonable. "And we'll happen to run into one of your friends and her boyfriend. There's nothing suspicious about any of this."

"If we were two regular coworkers," she snapped back, folding her arms. "But we're not. They already know we're both sympathetic to Gar; what if they guess we're trying to break him out? They may not know about Starfire and Dick yet. We should keep it that way."

"You wanna meet Dick? This is how we do it. Don't worry so much, that man always has a plan."

"Don't tell me not to worry."

She scowled, but got out of the car. They'd come from work, so she was not dressed for a bar. Not that she would be caught dead in a miniskirt and crop top anyway, but still, in her black slacks and high-necked navy blouse, she felt out of place. Vic looked more at home in a polo shirt, the white fabric stretched tight over his muscular build. His skin looked odd in the sodium streetlight, metallic. Raven wondered if this was the night she discovered why. They moved to the door, to the blaring country music and the smell of smoke, then went inside. Vic gestured to a booth in the corner and they sat down. He was trying to look jovial. Raven was unsmiling and, after determining the tabletop was sticky, pressed her hands into her lap. If the word "uncomfortable" had a picture entry in the dictionary, it would've been Raven at that bar.

"Evenin'," greeted a server after they'd spent a few minutes in painful silence. "What can I get ya'?"

"A stout for me," Vic ordered confidently, flashing the server a grin before the both of them gave Raven an expectant look.

"Water," she said shortly. "No ice."

"Sounds good!"

They sat again in uncomfortable silence.

"This is stupid," hissed Raven, just barely over the music. "We should leave. Now."

"Would you just chill? We're not doing anything wrong."

"That doesn't-"

"Here you go! Anything else I can get ya'?"

The server set a foaming glass of dark liquid in front of Vic and a water, with ice, before Raven. She glowered but said nothing.

"We're good," affirmed Vic, giving the server a wave. "Thanks!"

The server smiled brightly and went off, Raven's eyes hot on their back. Once it was just them and the music again, she continued.

"We shouldn't be seen together. All they have to do is revoke our security clearance and then that's it. We never get Gar out."

"Look, I know you're employment history is a little… unorthodox," Vic said calmly. "But going out for a drink is perfectly normal behavior. Lets people decompress."

"I don't need to decompress."

"Please, girl, you're wound so tight-"

"Friend Rachel! Imagine meeting you in such an unexpected place!"

"Indeed Kory," Raven sighed, leaning back in her seat and trying not to look annoyed. "Imagine."

Starfire was in a miniskirt and crop top, both of which were a brilliant shade of purple, and tall boots. Her auburn hair was loose down her back and her eyes were concealed behind brown contacts. Her fingers were interlaced with a man's, someone who was traditionally very handsome and well groomed. He was about three inches shorter than Star, with styled black hair and icy blue eyes. His face was smiling, but those eyes were analyzing. Star slid in next to Raven, pressing their bodies close together, while Vic made room on his side for the man. He reached across the table to Raven with an extended hand.

"I don't believe we've met," he said courteously. "Dick Grayson, I'm Kory's boyfriend."

"At long last. How have I lasted this long without meeting you," she said sarcastically, accepting his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"How're you liking the new job," Dick asked, putting his arm around the back of the booth casually. Everything about him looked perfectly at ease, but she could see he was evaluating her. "It's been what, a couple weeks? Kory tells me it's really interesting work."

"I can't talk about it," Raven said, folding her arms and tucking her chin. "But you already knew that. You know a lot of things."

There was a moment of stillness at the table. Starfire reached over and placed a hand on Raven's shoulder and Vic shook his head at her, but Dick was still smiling. The seriousness in his eyes sharpened and his head twisted to the right ever so slightly.

"Yeah," he affirmed with a nod. "I like to know what's going on. I think we have a lot to talk about."

"So let's talk about it. You don't know me, but I don't like games. I don't play well with others."

"Not here. Let's go back to my place. It's a little quieter."

"I assume Vic knows the way."

Dick's "place" was a warehouse over by the docks on the outskirts of Jump. From the outside it looked entirely unremarkable, one of many in a long, deserted line leading to the water. No one came here- no one had come here for a long time. But on the inside he'd outfitted it to be, like, an apartment complex. Thin drywall separated about five rooms, each with a bathroom and a poor excuse for a bed. The preludes to something more interesting, more permanent. Dick had clearly put a lot of thought and effort into this, and a fair bit of assumption. Five rooms: Dick, Starfire, Vic, Garfield, and Raven. The lights were fluorescent and there was no heating so it was cold, but it was a place for them. A place to start. She withheld her comments during the tour, settled into a chair in the kitchen and folded her hands.

"You really think we can do this," she said, staring forward and keeping her breath controlled. "Be heroes. Break Gar out."

"It's not a new concept," Dick answered, coming around and sitting across from her. "Batman's been in Gotham for almost a decade now. The Justice League too. As for Garfield, getting him locked up was my mistake to begin with."

"Our mistake," corrected Vic, leaning against the wall and folding his arms. "I should've kidnapped the grass stain. I should've made him come with me."

"You can't make Gar do anything," Raven said dismissively. "He has to learn everything the hard way. But you have to understand, once we break him out there will be no going back. It will only be a matter of time before we have to confront this organization publicly. Are you ready for that?"

"Absolutely," affirmed Dick. "This may come as a surprise to you, but the rest of us are committed."

"No," she said thoughtfully. "No, I'm not surprised. I believe you. And I believe Gar would be all in too. I believe this is what he wants."

"Then please," said Starfire, joining Dick at the table across from Raven. "Explain why you are so skeptical. We do not need to hide, friend Rachel, we can be who we are. We can help people."

"You say that," she answered, her face passive. "But why should I believe you? Why should I think you haven't flushed me out with malicious intent? What gives you the authority to make a team of superheroes? The right to my trust? All you've done is manipulate the situation from day one."

"Rachel," Starfire said indignantly, but Dick placed a calming hand on her forearm.

"You're right," he said simply, nodding and raising his eyebrows. "I manipulated you. I asked Starfire to insert herself into your life. I needed to know if you could be trusted and have concluded that you can. Star trusts you, so so do I."

"How flattering," Raven sniped. "But why should I trust you?"

"Do you know about Nightwing?"

She paused for a moment, contemplating.

"Rumors," she said slowly.

"I'm him. I was adopted by Batman after my family was murdered when I was eight. He trained me."

"Friend Rachel, you already know who I am." Starfire said with a smile. "I have no more secrets from you. You may ask me anything."

"As for me," Vic chimed in from behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder and he pressed a few buttons on his watch. The air around him shimmered and suddenly flesh was metal networked with cyan circuitry. One eye was still soft and brown, but the other glowed red. "I'm the Cyborg. You may've read about me in the tabloids."

"I don't know what you are," Dick said, pulling her attention back to him. "But I do know you help people. Help Garfield. You can decide whether or not to join us from there."

"It's not so simple," Raven answered, taking it all in stride even though her heart was hammering. "Something's coming. Right now he's in a controlled environment but out here-"

"Maybe you've misread the situation," Vic cut her off, still sounding very much like himself despite his appearance. "Maybe it's staying in there that gets him mixed up with whatever you're worried about."

Raven dropped her gaze to the tabletop, pursing her lips. It was true, she could be misreading the situation. Doing the wrong thing, acting out of fear when she needed to be brave. And those eyes, burning red in that green face, thes cry for help only she could hear, it did scare her. Moreso now that she knew him, had developed an… attachment to him. But for the Greeks it had always been acting to prevent the prophecy that had caused the foretold events to occur. And yet what was she doing, excising secrets from demons, if not acting to prevent a prophecy? One thing was for certain: they couldn't act without her help.

"I will determine when we free Garfield," she said coolly, speaking to the table. "When the time comes, you'll know. Be ready."

Time is a strange thing, assuming it exists at all. Looking back, it seems to move quickly, passing by at a million miles per hour like a gust of wind. Yet in the moment time seems to stop, as if hovering in an eternity of infinite detail which suddenly and inexplicably passes into another. Somehow it all gets pieced together in the end, like the points of color on a TV screen that form an image. And those images get put together to make a past. But the essence of time, the reality of it, somehow always escapes such simple definition. Is time something that is inherent to the universe or do we create time? Does time flow past us or do we move through it?

Garfield never used to care much about time or space or anything like that. He occupied himself, with science, with games, with books, but the movement of time, its nature, well he hadn't been overly philosophical in his youth. There was always something to do, live, play, sleep, steal. Then he'd gotten involved with the wrong people… Actually, let's call it what it is. He fell in love with the wrong person and she'd sold him out to these lunatics. Now he was trapped in a white room, chained up like some kind of animal with nothing to do but think about random things like time. Vic tried to keep him supplied with books and come visit, and recently he'd had Raven to look forward to, but usually when that door opened it was to let in some needle or another and without the switch from light to darkness he just felt in limbo. He could remember when time had been a dynamic force, something he measured and quantified in his own way. He remembered clocks and meeting times and shifts and all that. He remembered that, on the outside, time was considered to have a generally regular rhythm. And it had been such a pain. But in here, in this sterile white room with its white doors and shiny camera lenses, things were very different. In here he was on a solitary island in the river of time, watching it flow past without touching it.

It was a weird thought, a little crazy and a little scary, but no matter how many times he reflected on it between tests and prods and the sludge that passed for meals, he always came to that same conclusion. He didn't like it. He hated this stagnation, this nothingness. He wanted to be out there, out where moments flew by at the twitch of a second hand and days were measured by the sun. He missed the constraints of society. Perhaps in here, where there was nothing but white, time was free to do as it pleased, but he sure wasn't. And the longer he stayed the more that surreal feeling grated on him. The quiet gnawed at him and the isolation frayed his sanity and he never knew what was going to happen or when or if there was even a difference. Gar Logan was not built for solitude and it was sheer stubbornness that kept him from breaking altogether. Probably because on some level he knew that's what they wanted.

But that stubbornness was slipping; he knew it and, more importantly, she knew it. Which was why she had waited so long to do what she intended to do. It was why she chose now to visit, seeking out the subject for the first time. Now, as he weakened, as he fell towards his breaking point. At first he had been all fight, aggressive and difficult. They'd spent a month trying to pry answers from his tight lips and out of his cryptic blood before she'd come on. Even then, they persisted, thinking science was the answer. But Gar Logan was an enigma that would not be solved; the trick was to stop trying. She'd given him someone to relate to and, as it turned out, someone to pine for. Now he wanted out to be with her, to live a vibrant life saving the world at her side. He didn't know it, but that powerful desire made him weak. So now was the time to act, to bring this pawn into her plan. And, oh, what a special part he would play!

Amber Barnes had been a child when Raven was conceived, too small to witness the conception. But not so small that she didn't remember it, the crowning achievement of their little cult. They'd searched for Angela Roth for a solid decade before the faith of many followers had waned. Their lack of faith had killed the cult, but it had only served to motivate Amber further. She'd been 19 when she'd picked up the search herself, alone, determined. She'd learned all the magic her family could teach her and then some, growing formidable, working towards the day when she would find Raven, Trigon's daughter. Her visions, images that flicked before her in the flame, assured her that she would find the Gem. And that, through a pet, she would awaken her. When Amber heard of the Beast Boy project she'd been absolutely overcome with joy. She knew right then that he was the one, the shapeshifter, and with promises of delivering a monster that obeyed orders, she'd involved herself in the project. Samuel Register was single-minded and easy to manipulate. Amber had him bring on the demon hunter she'd been tracking and within a week she not only had found her Raven, but she knew for sure that she had her pet. Raven's pet, a creature that sat, hunched and snarling, at her side. The key, the one that would drive her mad. The beginning of the end.

Amber smiled to herself, her wide lips taking up a solid half of her face as they curved, and slid the flash drive that served as a final key into the slot. At her side, Cash Stephens was taking a wide stance and clutching a cattle prod in one hand and a syringe in the other. His eyes wandered over her body, her tight red dress with its low neckline and high slits up the sides. She didn't mind; she'd dressed to provoke. It was her hope that Garfield, too, would look at her. That he'd be caught off guard.

"Are you sure this is a good idea," Cash said in a conspiratorial tone as the gears in the door whined. "I can't guarantee your safety with just me. You should've let me bring more men."

"You don't trust the scientists," she asked teasingly, giving him a sideways look with eyes that were so dark they appeared black. "They assure me that this concoction will prevent his shapeshifting for at least a few minutes."

"Prevent its shapeshifting," Cash corrected. "And no, I don't trust prototypes. But this is your show."

"You're right, it is my show."

Air rushed by them as they entered, quickly, allowing the door to shut completely behind them. Across the room, on the mattress, something green had its arms tucked against its chest and its legs pulled up. Cold. Beast Boy rolled over and cracked large eyes that were a malachite shade of green. Still, he didn't see them immediately.

"Rae," he asked groggily, but hopefully. His voice was high, young. Vulnerable.

"I'm afraid not," Amber answered, still ginning her wide grin. "But I'm sure she'll be by later. I'm sure she'll be very interested in seeing you later."

Garfield rolled into a squat and tucked his chin to his chest, tilting his head. He was not smiling, and, when he saw Cash, he pinned his ears back and snarled. A deep sound that came from his chest rather than out of his mouth. Feisty. She liked that, liked the fight. The harder he fought, the more satisfying it would be to break him. And when she cracked him, when he broke open, demons would pour out. Fill their reality with fire and blood and suffering. He would awaken the Gem, she could smell it. Amber inhaled deeply and rolled her head back in anticipation.

"You should understand, I'm going to give you a present. Something very special, something you, well, can't refuse. Come forward, to the center. Make this easy."

"Go to hell," Gar shot back, standing and folding his arms.

Amber held up her hand and flicked her wrist. Cash nodded, turning on his cattle prod, which cracked with electricity in the stillness. Wordlessly, he approached Gar, unsmiling and unsympathetic. Gar stepped off the mattress and snarled, but did not back down. Cash dove, rolled, grabbed the chain that connected to Garfield's neck, and pulled it hard. Caught completely off guard, Gar stumbled forward and onto Cash's cattle prod. Cash and Amber smiled and Gar tried to scream as fire cut through his body but found he couldn't. His human body was robust, but not on the order of a grizzly bear or elephant. He collapsed forward and Cash caught him, hauling him onto the center platform. Holding him up by the chain around his neck, Cash injected him with about ten milliliters from the syringe, then let go. He crumpled, catching himself with his forearms as the world around him spun.

"You may go," dismissed Amber, her dark gaze fixed on Garfield as he tried to catch his breath. Cash nodded at her, cast a disdainful look at Gar, and then left.

"What did you do," Garfield asked, panting as his vision swam and his stomach churned. "What do you want?"

"I'm going to set you free," she answered simply, reaching into a pouch at her hip an pulling out a hand full of black sand. Slowly, she made a circle around Gar, spreading the sand. "Just not in the way you want to be freed. My gift to you is special, because you are special. Unique in build and situation. Powerful and yet ignorant as to how to use that power. And so terribly disobedient."

Amber completed her circle and stepped inside it, kneeling down before Gar. Her hands slid through his hair and down the back of his neck in a mockery of a caress and he shivered under her cold touch. The air around her was charged, like with Raven, saturated with magic like a static field. Unlike Raven, however, he could smell blood and malintent on this newcomer. He'd never seen her before, but her scent was overwhelming just like her presence. Inside the circle made of sand and with the drugs pulsing through his veins, he could feel reality bend around her.

"Get away from me. I'm warning you," he growled, though if truth be told it was an empty threat.

"You're so funny." Her laugh was like sandpaper and she took a fistful of his hair, jerking his head up so she could stare into his eyes. Her own were like voids, staring back at him, hungry. "But I'll tell you what, I'll make you a deal. I'll stop, just like you want, but first you tell me everything you know about Dr. Roth. You two have become quite close; surely you know something worthwhile. Tell me her name."

He seethed, clearly aggravated but unable to mobilize his body against its own uselessness. Again Amber laughed, keeping one fist in his hair and using the other to caress his neck. Her eyes moved to his chest, heaving as he fought to stay conscious. That was good; she wanted him awake for what came next.

"Come now, Beast Boy," she taunted. "Do the smart thing this time. Betray her before she betrays you."

"I won't do that," he snapped with as much force as he could muster, pushing himself from his forearms to his hands and knees and looking her defiantly in the face. "I'll never do something like that."

"I know. I just wanted to see it for myself. I know that Raven has you wrapped around her little finger. That's good. That's how I want it. You two, thick as thieves."

Gar's lips parted in shock and beautiful horror bloomed across his face.

"That's right. I already know her name, what she is. I know everything. I've been watching. So you see you already betrayed her, luring her here, getting her to expose herself. She was safely hidden until you came into her life. Now I'm going to give her what she wants: a demon to hunt. And if you care about her at all you'll let me do it. Because if you don't I'll tell our mutual friend Mr. Register just how special she is and get her a cell right next to yours. Locked up like the pair of monsters you are. Wouldn't that just be so romantic?"

He blinked at her, those huge, innocent eyes like stars in the darkness. She watched their light, their hope, fade into cold comprehension. Watched the knowledge that he was truly and completely trapped take the place of that light, a hardness, a resignation. Her fingers uncurled from his hair and his head fell forward. His hands made fists on the sterile floor and all around them the air distorted with magic. Power that had been building since she'd placed the sand. Amber stood fluidly, tossing her blond hair and inhaling deeply. They both knew she'd won. She placed her hands on either side of Gar's head, pressing her palms into his skull.

"Good boy," she cooed with false honey, as if addressing an animal. "Now, I want you to open your mind to me."

He shivered and felt his thoughts crack open like a thin crust. Her words were around him, inside him, a part of him. They were inside his head- she was inside his head. If he'd ever experienced a psychic attack before he would've recognized the signs. But nothing in Gar's life had ever prepared him for something like this.

"That's right. I am your thoughts now. Get on your back."

Gar obeyed. He couldn't help himself. With a rattle of polymeric chains he stretched out before her on his back. Amber straddled his waist and settled on top of him, running her hands up his abdomen and chest. He closed his eyes and tried to look away.

"Look at me. I want you to see this."

His eyes opened and his face turned toward her. She savored his expression, wild and terrified and completely out of control.

"Open your mouth."

He did it and she covered it with her own, her tongue lashing the insides of his mouth, caressing his, like an aggressive lover. He tried to scream, to push her away, but his body wouldn't listen to him. So instead he just sort of moaned under the assault, eyes stuck open, hands limp by his sides. She pulled back with a wide smile, bringing a hand to his cheek affectionately. Her thumb ran over his lips, then pressed into the pointed fang on his lower jaw. Hard. So hard that after a moment he tasted blood. Amber hissed in pleasure and pain and pulled away, admiring the crimson liquid as it welled to the surface. Reached capacity and dripped down her palm.

"Creatures of darkness, heed my call. Come forward now and accept this offering from your humble servant. Come forward and accept this vessel. Come forward and be made flesh."

Fire burst from the sand around them and made a cage, fire that had no fuel and produced no smoke. But the heat was there, scorching, burning. Gar felt it on his skin, felt himself start to sweat water and salt. Amber's features danced in the light and shadows, for the more the flames flicked the deeper the shadows became. Particulate matter floated in the air like dust, at first aimless. Then, as Amber held out her hand, they started to coalesce, sticking together into chunks that only grew in size. Orbiting Amber's hand, then settling onto it, making a shape. Small, maybe the size of a hamster, a bat with the tail of a serpent and the face of a man. Its eyes glinted red like rubies and the edge of that tail was sharp as a razor. Using a long, forked tongue, it lapped at Amber's blood, growing more solid as it drank. Until it was real. Until it turned its burning gaze onto Garfield.

"You can't resist now," Amber's voice said in his head.

And she was right; even though everything inside him was shouting to run, between the drugs and her weight on his chest Garfield was indeed quite paralyzed. Panic closed around his throat and his eyes were wide, but no matter what he did his body wouldn't twitch, let alone shift into something that could get away. It made her smile to see his muscles, bulging under the thin polymer of fabric Vic had given him just days before. It made her laugh to see his resilience burn in the flames around them. His trusting mind so easily torn asunder.

"Let it inside you. Let it consume you. Let it transform you."

The demon, because that's what it had to be, flew from Amber's grasp and landed on Gar's taught stomach. The fleshy part of his body, the greater omentum stretched over muscle over intestines. It brought its horrible, human face close, inhaling and smiling. Licking its lips with that forked tongue. Then it flicked its tail out and into Gar's side. He screamed in earnest this time, arching his back and craning his neck as the demon made an incision maybe an inch or so below his rib cage. His blood sprayed out and across the white of the floor, onto Amber's leg, and she rolled her head back in ecstasy. The demon crawled across him and licked at the blood, then pressed its face into the opening. Garfield wouldn't remember this part clearly- he wouldn't remember most of this clearly. Not clearly enough to be helpful later, at any rate. But what he did know was that, in that moment, it didn't matter how hard he fought or tried to break free. The demon forced its way inside him, dissolved into his blood, and there was nothing he could do to get it out.