AU. I do not own the Teen Titans. Edited where I thought I was lacking. ENjoy and please review

Rachel woke up on a plush bed in a darkened room wearing a comfortable outfit. She was confused until she remembered the locker room, and then she became scared. Frantic, she scrabbled in the darkness until her hands found a cord and she pulled it. She was immediately blinded by bright lights and caught off guard, but not as badly as the hitherto unnoticed figure in the chair by her bed.

Screaming nonsense, he bolted out of the chair in a daze and fell onto Rachel, knocking her hot pink (what the hell? She somehow managed to think) bathrobe askew. Bracing himself so he didn't fall on her completely, they met eyes, nervously breathing in each other's faces. They stayed that way for several seconds, frozen, until Rachel slowly became aware of the fact that she could feel contact with his skin on her stomach, which meant her robe had fallen completely open. She saw this same realization dawn in the boy's eyes and he flew back as if electrocuted, both hands clapped over his eyes and screaming something like "Coriander" repeatedly.

The door to her room slammed open, and the tall girl from before rushed in, flanked by two other boys, one white, the other black, both with determined faces and cold eyes. Both did an abrupt about-face with horrified, embarrassed expressions as Rachel belatedly realized she had left her robe wide open and hastily closed it. And still the boy that had been asleep was yelling for flowers.

Sighing, the girl, whom Rachel realized either ate too many carrots or had a bad tan, spoke to him, using a language Rachel had never heard to calm him down. He still wouldn't remove his hands from his face and had to be guided from the room, but not before he turned to Rachel and muttered what sounded like a guilt-ridden "sorry." The boys left first and right before the orange-skinned girl closed the door, she spoke English in a quaint dialect. "We will do the waiting while you do the recuperating. Clothes are in the closet of the bathroom." With that, she closed the door, leaving Rachel along with her confused thoughts and displaced emotions. It took her five minutes to actually make sense of what she had just seen: His skin is green! She thought as she absentmindedly rubbed her cold stomach.


Closing the door, the four friends quietly walked down the hall, heading for the kitchen downstairs. Once there, the guys took a seat at the table while the girl decided to lean against the wall. Everything was quiet until the dark-skinned member of the group exploded.

"What the hell, B?" He yelled at the short, green fellow. "What the fu-udge," he stammered, looking at the now scowling orange girl, "were you thinking? Do you know what it looked like in there?" More a man than a boy, the dark youth was bald and broad, with tattoos visible on his neck and arms, save for halfway down his left forearm, which terminated in a black and silver prosthetic.

"She. Turn on. The. Lights." He meekly defended himself in broken English, eyes focused on the table surface."

"So she turned on the lights and you jumped her?" He asked incredulously. "Real classy, man." He quipped sarcastically. The white boy just sat quietly, watching the ordeal behind his sunglasses.

"It wasn't his fault." Rachel said quietly. Everyone in the kitchen jumped at her voice and turned around to see her, and were somewhat bewildered by what they saw.

Rachel was wearing a light blue night gown but a bright pink shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Barefoot, she shivered on the cold kitchen floor. The green-skinned boy quickly vacated his seat, ushering her to sit down without actually touching her and grabbed another chair for himself next to her. Picking her feet up off the floor, she looked up at everyone else and continued.

"When I woke up I didn't know where I was, and when I turned on the light he didn't know what was going on and fell onto—well, me." She ended, blushing at the memory.

"Oh," the amputee said, looking at his green friend sheepishly, "sorry, Gar." Gar gave Rachel a grateful smile then turned and flipped off the big man. Looking back at Raven however, Gar dropped his eyes in embarrassment and drew in once more.

Smiling, Rachel spoke again. "So I know Gar and Coriander," she said looking at the two in question, "but I don't know either of you two."

The guy wearing sunglasses spoke first. "Dick Grayson," he said, holding out his hand. Rachel reached but he retracted before she could grasp his hand, and a quick glance to her right showed a cold-glaring Gar who just as quickly returned his glance to the table top. She looked back as Dick continued speaking. "And her name isn't Coriander," he said, nodding his head towards the orange-skinned girl, who just looked at Rachel with a blank stare, "it's actually Kori Anders. Garfield here can get a little unclear when things get awkward."

"Dude!" An embarrassed Rachel looked over to see an equally embarrassed Gar, or Garfield. Dick shrugged and gestured at the last person to speak.

"Names Victor Stone, litta sista," Victor said, a big grin taking over his face, "and it's damn good to meetcha!

Rachel giggled at his little rhyme and thought she could hear softly grinding metal to her left, but was distracted by what she saw on his left forearm: the remnants of an eagle and globe tattoo. "Semper Fidelis," She said quietly. Victor stiffened, and the others looked at him curiously. His eyes held unshed tears, but his expression was one of gratitude and understanding as he simply said, "Thank you."

Rachel gave him a small smile, Kori finally pulled up a seat, and they all sat there, just enjoying the peace. Rachel glanced at Dick, who stared back with a bemused expression until Rachel built up the nerve to speak. "You're not blind are you?" She asked, and Dick laughed, shaking his head.

"It's not nice to ask questions like that." He said.

"It's also not polite to wear sunglasses in door," Rachel retorted, or at night." Against the wall Kori bristled at the somewhat insulting comment, but Dick rubbed her shoulder and she calmed down. Looking towards Rachel, he took off his shades and Rachel tried not to look startled-his left eye was an ice blue, but his right eye was a dark, entrancing blue that seemed to draw Rachel in. Quickly donning his shades once more, Dick watched impassively as Rachel jerked out of her trance.

"Heterochromia." Rachel blurted, a light blush coloring her cheeks. Dick raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Eventually Rachel apoligized, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so rude."

Dick shrugged but Kori spoke up for the second time that night. "You are correct, you should not have been so rude. We saved you and brought you somewhere safe. We placed you in my bed, and you are wearing my clothes." Rachel flinched at the harsh tone and the truth behind it, but said nothing. She noticed Garfield seemed to be digging furrows in the table but was distracted by the Kori's next words. "However, you were far kinder to friend Garfield than he deserved," Garfield groaned and dropped his head on the table, before remembering Rachel was there and looking mortified," you were far more intuitive of friend Victor than many of his peers," a blush rose on Victor's dark skin as he nervously fiddled with his prosthetic," and you were not afraid to apologize to friend Richard about your pas of the faux." Rachel stumbled over Kori's clear if disconcerting English, but what she noticed the most was the emphasis she put on the word "friend" when she mentioned Robin. Victor and Garfield she treated as if they were siblings, older and younger brothers respectively. But Richard. Something hinted that Kori wanted far more than to be "friends" with Richard, who seemed either blissfully ignorant or painfully unaware. Shaking her head, Rachel looked around the table at everyone and gave a small smile. Here she was, with people she didn't know, who knew where they were, and she was more relaxed and content than she had been in many years. What a night. She thought


Night. The thought hit her like a truck and filled her with terror. "Oh shit," she muttered, "shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" She screamed, the others looking at her with no small amount of concern. Rachel stood up and began pacing madly.

Kori spoke for the second time that night. "What is the matter?" She asked, placing her hand on Rachel's shoulder. She could feel the stress in Rachel's body, and it concerned her greatly.

"I was supposed to be home no later than 4 and its—," she looked for a clock and blanched at the stovetop, "9:30 at night?!" She screeched. "My dad's going to kill me! My dad's going to kill me…" The stress from the entire day's events finally came crashing down on Rachel, and she fell to the floor, sobbing hysterically. Everyone surrounded her, crowding in, and she began to feel claustrophobic, their faces contorting in a nightmarish way. Everyone was saying something but she couldn't decipher any of it.

Suddenly, she could only see one face: Garfield's. He was saying something, over and over again, and she gradually calmed down enough to make sense of what he was saying. "Father not home." Rachel stopped sobbing and the others looked at him oddly, save for Kori.

Rachel sniffled. "What do you mean?"

"Father not home." Garfield repeated, as if to a child. "Don't know where home is. Found address in…wallet," he explained guiltily, "saw father passed out with bottles," his face hardened, "and many needles."

Rachel's breath, and everyone else's, caught in her throat. She had walked in on her father shooting up before. It hadn't ended well. His crash was worse. "But he'll be there when I go home, and he'll be even worse."

"Not home," Garfield repeated again, "not good for you, esp-esh-e-a-lee now," he said, enunciating the word with some difficulty. He gave her an apologetic smile, while the others had varying expressions on their faces. "I not always sound like this," Garfield explained, "just when nervous or-," casting a glance at Dick, "awkward."


Rachel gave Garfield a blank look. "You don't understand," she said carefully, "I have to go home. If I don't–."

"Father hurt you?" Garfield asked, a strange look in his eyes. "Punch, slap, kick? Make you cut?" Rachel was paralyzed. Though he said it where only she could hear, Rachel was still afraid the others heard. The fact that this boy, the green boy she had never met, knew what she went through scared her. She hid her arms under the table, and the others stood still, stunned. Garfield wasn't acting normal, and while Rachel didn't know any better, an unpredictable Garfield could only end...badly.