Volte-Face

By the end of the next two chapters, most of you will want to kill me. (It comes with the territory.)

Thank you…
heavenmidori
APurpleAvacado
Bizerko-Kittykins
Astrum Ululatum
Xment2bursX- I'm glad you're looking for foreshadowing, because there's buckets full of it. And that thing about the mechanics was foreshadowing-- you'll see how in a few chapters... (Cue ominous music.) PS, I didn't see your PM until today. I'm so oblivious! I'm sorry! I'll get back to you.
cheetahluv16
PlayfulSylph
mischiefraven
Satan's Camero 1997
BipolarPenguins
Ririi
archucutie
Deikuru
LOL Poptarts- Wait. You read all 17 chapters in a day? How long did that take you?! (PrincessxPoptart? You didn't sign in. And I'm easily confused...)
InkGothical
EulaliaGal- How did you make it so far without knowing what's going on...?
AttiXZaney-foreva
Mutou Yasu
Aikasankari- I always click on profiles when I get notification e-mails, so when I got to your profile, I probably stared at it for a good five minutes in confusion. I'm always a little embarrassed when anyone who isn't a teenaged fangirl reviews, and obviously you don't fit that catagory. I'm glad you're reading this; your review means a lot.
Nora- You're right about a few things, although not in exact way they play out (and I won't tell you about that now). You're right about the self-fulfilling prophecies (aren't those the best?), the heroin (it's not for keeping anyone), and, well... It's very hard for me not to say more! Sorry, gotta keep my lips sealed...

The next chapter goes hand-in-hand with this one, but they're too long to be combined into one chapter. So thus, I made them two chapters and just posted them at the same time. Easy solution! If you're the type to review, however, please do review both chapters, and review this chapter before you even read the next chapter. (You'll understand why once you finish chapter 19.)

And now, I present to you…

"Everything has its hidden meaning which we must know."
—Maxim Gorky

Kegan was never really a believer when it came to blind faith, or prayer, or any specific omnipotent being. Growing up, he was never in one place long enough to have a strong basis in the family's religion. Even after he got out of the crime circuit, there was never any appeal to it. People with genuine faith seemed quixotic, and the rest—who claimed to be religious, but smothered themselves in sin—were hypocrites.

Michael used to go to church, but only because Cassidy "The Ex" Daniels went. And once she was out of the picture, he and Kegan discovered much more interesting ways to spend a Sunday morning.

But that didn't mean Kegan was a complete nonbeliever. He believed in coincidences, after all, like the one that was right in front of his eyes, with the red hair and sunglasses. Roy Harper—the Roy Harper, whose entire history Kegan had read only the night before—was sitting at table 19, idly picking at his salad, waiting for his teammate to come back from the restroom. It was times like these that he wished he still had Dick's communicator on speed dial.

"Why are you staring at him?" a voice hissed in his ear—Maeve, a coworker. "An ex-boyfriend, perhaps?"

He imagined his honest answer. Nope, he's the guy a criminal mastermind apparently wants to adopt into his cult of apprentices. There's a chance that he'll betray his team and doom the city, and—oh yeah!—I snuck into his bedroom to put some cameras in place! Do you think he'll mind?

But instead, Kegan just shook his head. "No, just someone I used to know. I think," he added, looking at Harper again. "I mean, I haven't seen him in years… It's probably just a lookalike."

She shrugged, tugging him out of the way as a customer passed. But her eyes focused on the customer—Harper's teammate—and she gasped, hitting Kegan on the arm excitedly. "Do you know who they are?" she asked him, scandalized, as the dark-haired one sat across from Harper. "They're Titans! Real Teen Titans! In our restaurant!"

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Kegan laughed, rolling his eyes. Now he really wished he had Dick's number. Fangirls…

"My tables are empty, aren't they?" She rose up on her toes to scan the restaurant.

"Table 12 just got seated, and he looks like he wants…" Kegan's voice drifted off. The man at table 12 was staring right at him, and with good reason—it was Dick Grayson, in the flesh. "Speak of the devil…!"

"Kegan?" Maeve asked, waving a hand to get his attention.

"You know what?" He grinned at her. "I got this one. I know him—don't worry about it."

Dick was rubbing the bridge of his nose when Kegan got to his table. In addition to being a little damp from the rain, the Titan looked harassed and tired, but he still smiled when Kegan sat across from him.

"You know that they're here, right?" Kegan hissed, jerking his chin toward the other two Titans.

"Yeah," Dick was nodding, "and I'm sorry about that. I told them to get out of the Tower—so I could take the cameras down—and out of all the places in Steel to choose, they picked this one."

"You got all the bugs? That's incredible. They're all—"

The flash of a camera interrupted them, and then the high-pitched giggles of at least four women made Dick wince. He peered over the dividers at Roy and Garth, who looked stunned by the sudden attention.

"Sorry about this," the Boy Wonder sighed, replacing his sunglasses and rising from the table. "But I have to go round them up before this becomes a scene. Go wait in the back, so Roy doesn't recognize you on the way out."

When Dick reached the two Titans, Garth was obligingly signing some woman's napkin, while Roy—usually animated in a crowd—stood with his arms tight against his chest, his expression sullen. Dick wondered if Roy had ever looked more miserable—until Roy's gaze caught on his own, and darkened further.

"Oh, my, God!" someone whispered too loudly. "It's Robin! What is he doing here?"

Garth's head jerked up at the sound of the name; a second later, he was glancing between Dick and Roy, aware of the seemingly-clandestine drama going on with them.

"Hey, Dick," Roy muttered, emphasizing his name in a manner that made Robin think the archer meant it as an insult. "Nice of you to stop by."

"Don't start," came the reply, nearly inaudible. He pasted a smile on for the clamor of patrons as he pulled them both by the arm. "Wait until we're somewhere else. How did you two get here?"

"The Vanquish. It's parked outside."

Dick rolled his eyes behind the sunglasses. "That's one way to be subtle, I guess."

"Well sor-ry," Roy snapped, louder now that they were on the sidewalk outside and had to compete with the pattering raindrops. "I didn't have much time to pick out which car would be least conspicuous, thanks to someone's insane evacuation drill." He yanked his arm out of Dick's grasp. "Why the hell are you even in town? Shouldn't you be holed up in your shitty little office, investigating things that you won't fucking tell anyone anyway?"

Dick gave a tight-lipped smile. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

"The doors are unlocked," Garth announced as they reached the car, in a vain attempt to stop the fight before it escalated. "So just… y'know… get in. If you want."

"Thanks for the well wishes," Roy growled at Dick, climbing angrily into the passenger's seat. "Actually, I'm feeling well enough to kick the shit out of you—which is a good thing, I heartily agree, because you definitely deserve it. What the hell are you trying to pull, anyway? What's up with the Tower? Are we going back there now?" Roy nodded, answering his own question. "Ah, you're in town because you had to search the Tower for something so horrible that no one can know about it. You did search the place, didn't you?"

"That's not true," Dick said from the backseat. He was rubbing his eyes again, his sunglasses strewn on the seat beside him. "But you're right, in that I'm not prepared to disclose the information to you at this time."

"'I'm not prepared to disclose the information at this time'," Roy mimicked. He turned in his seat to glare at Robin better. "What kind of police crap is that? That's what cops say when they have no fucking idea what's going on, because their superiors won't tell them shit!"

Garth tapped Roy's knee. "Will you please buckle your seatbelt?"

The archer whipped his head to face Garth, mouth half open to spew a wicked retort, but then he clamped his jaw shut and exhaled. "Yes," he said finally, obediently fiddling with the seatbelt until he could turn around and be buckled in. "Better?" he asked with a mock smile.

"Lovely. Thanks much."

In the back seat, Dick was sniggering. When Roy shot him a glare, he made a thoughtful face and mouthed, So he wears the pants, then?

Roy snarled. "Oh, go fuck yourse—"

"What are you doing here, Robin?" Garth cut in.

But Roy answered his inquiry before Dick could. "Isn't it obvious? He's trying to find more people that he can bring into his Tower and divulge important secrets to!"

"Weren't you just saying that I'm not telling any secrets?" Dick shrugged. "It seems to contradict your current theory, that's all I'm saying."

"What about Karen, hm?" Roy squinted at him. "You told her certain things that she didn't need to know."

"And now she's using them to make fun of him," Garth laughed. Having stopped at a red light, he twisted around in his seat. "Do you know who he's in love with?"

Dick managed to keep his composure for about half a second before he spluttered out a sound somewhere between hysterical laughter and choking. The smoldering menace emanating from Roy—whose apparent flush hadn't been noticed by the Atlantean—wasn't nearly enough to ease his amusement. The irony of the situation was really too much.

"I'll take that as a yes?" Garth asked. He turned to Roy for any hints, but the light turned green and suddenly he had to focus on the road again. "No one will tell me!"

"Join the club," Roy murmured, still seething. "No one tells me anything, either."

"See? You were just saying that I tell too many secrets, and now you're saying I don't tell enough!" Dick rolled his eyes. "Is there anything I can do that would satisfy your crazy whims?"

"You know, there is," Roy spat. "You can stay in your fucking office and look up whatever obsessions you're harboring, like Brother Blood or Slade or whatever."

Dick's head jerked up at the casual mention of Slade, surprised to hear Roy use that name so flippantly. Apparently Raven had told him less than Dick thought…

At the same time that Dick looked up, Garth's own eyes widened, accidentally meeting Dick's in the rearview mirror. Even though the Atlantean averted his gaze back onto the road almost instantly, Dick could read into the tension across the pale brow, and knew there was something unresolved there. If Karen had let anything important slip, Garth might be the liability that cost them the future.

"Hey," Dick said suddenly, leaning forward, palms on the edge of his seat. "Can we pull over somewhere?"

"Why," Roy sneered, "Dick gotta piss?"

"Stop it, Roy." Garth's voice was soft, low. "Please. And yes," he said louder, addressing Dick himself. "Of course we can, if you don't mind a little rain. Anywhere specific?"

"A convenience store would be great," Dick answered. He found himself distracted by the way Roy let his gaze linger on Garth, as if the archer was immediately pacified by the simple request. Garth seemed to be the lion-tamer who could diminish the tough lion into a kitten. Vaguely, Dick wondered if Roy would find that idea emasculating.

They pulled into some rundown store at the edge of the city, where the sky was dark and the rain seemed to become a brewing storm. Roy opted to stay in the car, arms tightly crossed over his chest, but the other two Titans went into the store.

"All right," Dick said as soon as they got to the deserted bathroom. He spun on Garth, brow quirked. "What do you know about Slade?"

"About… Slade?" The Atlantean gave a brief laugh. "Nothing. Karen said something about you, and I wanted to know if Slade was involved, especially if it pertained to Roy." He pursed his lips. "Is this why we stopped? You could've grilled me in the car—"

"Roy can't know any more than he already does," Dick said quickly. "He might even know too much as it is, and I shouldn't have to tell you that you cannot—"

"I can't pass on the Slade news." Garth winked. "I got it."

Dick stared at him, then let out a breath. "I mean it. If you tell Roy anything… disastrous things could happen." To you, he added mentally, and probably to Roy. Possibly even more of the team than that… "This isn't an offhand suggestion—You have to follow it."

"I understand," Garth assured him, just as he had assured his own team's leader. "Karen told me this was a serious thing. I'm not going to ruin your plans."

They had been gone for a few mere minutes, but by the time they returned to the car, Roy was gone. He had disappeared—but he hadn't moved far, Dick quickly realized, as he waved a lazy hand toward the covered gas station. Garth said something under his breath when he got into the car, but it was too low and too exhausted for Dick to hear.

Roy was half-covered in rain and grease when they pulled up beside station six. The archer had a wrench in one hand and a pressure gauge in the other, and he was kneeling next to one of the tires.

Garth sighed, tapping his fingers on the wheel. "What is he doing?"

Dick shrugged and shoved the baseball cap onto his head. "Looks like he's… helping."

But Garth nodded out the window to the two identical women standing in yellow and pink raincoats beside him. "More like he's flirting," he remarked, with a rare trace of resentment in his tone. After watching Roy move to the hood of the car, he rolled his eyes and slammed his palm into the car's horn.

The blaring noise resounded across wet pavement and made all three of the figures jump. But it was Roy, not the girls, who had his head under the popped hood, and so the back of his skull knocked against blunt metal with a sharp crack.

"You wanted that to happen, didn't you?"

Garth shrugged, unable to hide his pleased smirk. But that faded when Roy just glared at the car and turned to the girls, giving them each a roguish grin. By the way they giggled, it was clear that he had made some clever, alluring remark.

The Atlantean honked the horn again, sliding the window down. "Roy, c'mon! Let's go! You didn't want to stop here in the first place!"

"I didn't know I could be of assistance in the first place!" the redhead yelled back. His hands were already rooting around under the car's hood again, yanking and twisting, and he was still speaking in an undertone to the girls.

"He's just trying to piss you off, you know," Dick said quietly. He buckled his seatbelt and crossed his arms languidly. "Just go park. He'll get over himself soon enough."

Seething, Garth hit the horn again, briefly, before driving to a far parking space. "He can walk in the rain when he comes back, then. Serves him right."

Dick closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat. "If you say so."

—

The sharp sound of Wintergreen's shoes against the marble hallway floors announced his arrival before his wheezing voice pervaded the master's study. Slade was at the large, oak desk in the center of the room when the elderly butler burst through the doors, one palm pressed to his chest as if to hold in his frantic heart. His eyes held a mix of fear and hope.

"Sir!" the man gasped.

"Yes, Wintergreen?" Slade stood, hands clasping behind his back.

"Sir—She called! It's time! Go—" His already-strained lungs spasmed and before he could speak more, a torrent of coughs forced its way through his throat.

"Who called, Wintergreen?" Slade put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Wintergreen. Wintergreen. Who called?"

"I… Ivy Pierce." He inhaled. "It's time."

"Time?" And then Slade realized what he meant. "Of course. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir," Wintergreen panted. But Slade was already across the room, the phone to his ear. When the ringing ceased and the obedient voice of a secretary answered, the master smiled.

"Yes, it's time. Bring me Roy Harper."