Well, after a binge of DC Universe Online, and with finals done, I think it's time I got back to this story. It's been killing me trying to jump off from where I left, but I think I've finally got it. Hope you all enjoy. In the meantime, enjoy the updated prologue! I own dick. That's all DC and Cartoon Network.

Prologue

"That's...quite a story, Terra." Robin said, his face still a mixture of disbelief, a trace of anger, and the flash of sympathy as he looked down at the shamefaced blonde sitting in front of him, her head hung low with her long bangs covering her eyes while Beast Boy held her hand. From what Robin could tell, Beast Boy had been by her side like this for the last hour or so before Terra had come down and called them all to the living room, and he couldn't blame him. If Starfire had been in this much pain, he would have been doing exactly the same. The others looked as shocked as him, even Raven, who stood wide-eyed to his left, her hood down and her gaze fixed on the geomancer.

She'd been a traitor. Or at least, that had been the plan. After the first time they had met her, when she had left after she believed Beast Boy had told them about her lack of control over her powers, Slade had found her. He'd convinced her that he could help her, trained her in her powers and then sent her back here as a mole. Tonight was supposed to have been his coupe de grace; She was supposed to have sent the tower's security codes to him, and then his drones would have taken care of the rest. In the end, however, her conscience had won out, and she'd refused her final task. So how they were here. There was silence for a full minute before Terra spoke up again, her voice hoarse and full of regret.

"I'm so sorry...I can't believe I did this to you all. You trusted me...you haven't done anything but help me...you must hate me now." She sniffled at the last word, looking as he she might start sobbing again any second now. Beast Boy gave her hand a firm squeeze at that, and she seemed to calm down again at that touch. Cyborg was the first to speak up.

"Terra, you're family far as I'm concerned. That's all I need to say on that." Instantly forgiven. That was Cyborg, alright. He always did like to play big brother. Robin couldn't help but crack a bit of a smile at that. The big guy certainly did a good job in that role. Then it was Starefire's turn. She was...well, she was Starfire.

"Oh, Friend Terra, how could I hate you!? You are the most wonderful friend I have ever had! The terrible, terrible Slade has lied to you and manipulated you! I will break him for this!" She shouted as she scooped up Terra in a fierce, almost bone-crushing hug. The first part of her declaration of forgiveness had been typical of the Tamaraian. The last part, however, was not. That part had actually frightened Robin. He could actually see that normally sweet, innocent girl doing her best to break every bone in Slade's body for something like this. Slowly, Starfire realized she might have been holding onto Terra a little too tightly, and let her go with a comforting little smile. Terra did her best to smile back, but it was still obvious that she didn't feel much better. Beast Boy was still quite. He'd no doubt already said his piece in private. That left Raven.

Truth be told, Robin had expected Raven to storm out or chew their newest member out like a drill sergeant. Instead, the ash-colored young woman set herself down beside Terra with a nod.

"You followed your conscience. You beat Slade's manipulation. That's what matters now. We can't change what happened or the choices you made before, but you choose your future. You chose us over him." Her hand was on Terra's shoulder as she spoke, her tone surprisingly gentle compared to her usual abrasive monotone. Terra looked shocked at that. Obviously she hadn't been expecting that kind of response from Raven either. There was a long pause, and then, with a sob she threw her arms around Raven and began to cry again. Not guilt alone this time. There was relief in it too.

"I...I don't know what to say. I can't believe you're all forgiving me after this." She finally choked out. Robin looked the geomancer in the eye as he spoke

"You're a Titan, Terra." That struck the girl more than anything else that had been said tonight, it was clear. She looked at all of them slowly with bloodshot eyes.

"You're the best friends I've ever had."

TTTTT

Deep bellow Jump City, secure from intrusion by those pesky little superheroes that seemed to be cropping up like weeds all over the world, Slade Wilson swore as he picked the shards of glass from his hand. He'd broken his favorite wine glass when he'd read the little girl's message, and now his hand was covered in glittering red specks. It was supposed to have gone so simply. Train her, gain her trust and loyalty, and then send her in to do the same with the Titans, then crush that vermin once and for all. But no. She'd just had to go and grow a conscience while she was with the Titans. He could still feel his blood boil as it tricked from the dozens of small gashes in his hand.

One word. It has been one word she'd sent, but it was still enough to send him into a rage.

"No."

He swore again as he drew the largest shard from his palm, earning the attention of the men waiting at either side of the entrance to the room. Sharpes and Deych were recent hires. Professional killers that had worked in Gotham for most of their lives before relocating to Jump City after a nasty run-in with that grim town's own caped crusader. Both men were in their forties, like him, wearing black suits, balding (Sharpes retaining his rusty brown mane, while Deych's had gone prematurely gray), and carrying .45 automatics under their jackets.

"Sir? Everything alright?" Sharpes said a bit cautiously, not moving from his spot. Slade briefly thought about slapping his underling for such a stupid question, but he understood that men in that position only had so many responses to this kind of display. If their places were reversed, he imagined he would have asked the question as well.

"Yes. There is a setback in operations. But only a minor one. Plan 2 is still workable. Deych, speak with Calculator within the hour. Sharpes, all of my contacts in Gotham, Metropolis and Central City. We will require heavies." He was done with the local muscle. Cinderblock and Plamus? They'd failed on multiple occasions, as had those HIVE children. No, it was time to bring in some real talent. Plan 2 would be more extensive, and costly than his initial operation, but the results would be well worth it. It had gravitas as well. Gravitas and a certain classical charm to it.

His domination of this city was only delayed. Things would go his way. And when they did...well, the world would never be the same again.

TTTTT

"When your checks start to actually clear, sweety. The last one you sent me bounced so high it might as well have been a satellite. You want a tip on a score? Go ask Intergang. I'm sure they could use some muscle as dumb as you."

Calculator groaned wearily as he pressed the disconnect key, taking a long, angry drag on his cigarette before he returned his attention to his work. Livewire was always a pain in the ass to deal with, especially when the work was slow for her. Which was all the time, in the last few months. He was not what many would expect in a criminal master mind; short, dumpy, with receding brown hair and thick, gold-rimmed spectacles, he looked more like a New England banker than anything else. Nobody that saw him on the streets would peg him for the man that nearly every super-criminal in the United States relied on for up to date information on scores, superhero activity and general tips and rumors.

He sighed and looked down at his array of monitors; one tuned to newsfeeds, one to a blog popular with the less than reputable super-types, and one to the Gotham City Police Department staff records. That last one was the most important at the moment, as he opened up Detective Renee Montoya's file. Squeaky clean, a list of commendations as long as his arm, a widow with a husband killed in the gangland shit Gotham seemed to stew in every second of every day. He wasn't going to find the sort of crap he'd need to get Two-Face's request done here. Thankfully, there were other sources, and if his runners were to be believed, he'd soon have some very interesting photos of Ms. Montoya and a one Ms. Kate Kane, heiress and recently discharged army-wanabe that would probably put a pause to her investigation for a good long while.

The call came a second later, and the stout little man's eyebrow went up as he saw where it originated from. Jump City, eh? He hadn't gotten too many requests from that town in a good long while, and more often than not it was from a single man in particular, or a proxy. When he saw the name, his suspicion was confirmed.

"You're through to Calculator. What can the master of all he surveys provide today, my one-eyed friend?" He asked, a sort of sarcastic cheerfulness to his voice as he stubbed out his smoke into the overflowing ashtray, then almost immediately lighting up another.

"'Fraid it ain't the big man himself, bud. He needs ya to find sum'n quick and quiet-like." The voice was gruff, harsh and with a distinct Gotham accent, one he'd heard a few times before. So ol' Deych had gotten a new employer, eh? He'd have to make a note of that, seeing as Slade had seemed content to stick with the local boys before. If he was bringing in hired guns from out of town, it meant something had changed, maybe even dramatically so.

"That's what I do. What's this special order Mr. Wilson needs oh so badly?" Calculator asked with genuine curiosity now, his fingers flying over his keyboard to pull up Deych' record. The goombah grunted and rattled off what his boss wanted in as clipped and professional a tone has he was probably capable of. It gave the information broker pause, and a frown began to melt over his lips. It was a tall order, but he thought he remembered hearing...yes, some of the product Slade needed was in town.

"Well lucky you, Mr. Deych. You boys happen to be sitting not very far off from what you need. I'll go ahead and send you some recommendations for getting past security, too. Consider that a favor to Mr. Wilson." And so he did, sending off the e-mail with the properly encrypted files. With that he cut off the call, leaning back in his chair and smiling around his cigarette. The Titans were going to be in for a very nasty surprise if this was going to go the way he thought it would. Oh, this was going to be a very interesting show indeed.

TTTTT

I know it's been a long time since I've posted, and I swear that I'll be getting the next chapter up within the next few days. In the meantime, I'm going over the old chapters and sweeping for grammar errors, and maybe even adding a bit more like I did with this one. :) Take care, folks and stay classy.