AN: Please R&R. No flames. Enjoy! I'm taking a different approach to this story, telling it in first person - Gar's POV. Feedback is much appreciated. I'd love to hear ideas or thoughts on how to go about this story.

Thank you to all my reviewers! Your encouraging words definitely help me out when it comes to writing something I'm not too sure about.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans. Darn…


"Leave it alone, Gar," Dick said as he lounged in the large leather desk chair. "I've got to agree with Raven, you're looking into dangerous information."

Now I was getting really perturbed. "So you're not going to help me?"

Dick sighed deeply. "Look, I've heard of this Slade guy. He's nothing but trouble and if Malchior is hanging around with him then he's just as bad."

"Dude, you're like the cop out of all of us. I thought that you would be jumping at the chance to expose something like this," I said.


"Dick, just look into Malchior. Please? I mean, what if he comes around Raven again? That would mean that he'd be around Kori too."

Dick met my gaze and stayed silent for a moment before he gave a nod.

"Fine. I'll call you if I find anything."

I smiled. "Thanks Dick. I really appreciate it."

"Gar, just promise me that you'll stay out of trouble."

"Sure," I replied as I walked out the door and soon found myself on the sidewalk.

Ok, I knew that playing the "Kori would be in danger" card was a bit of a low move, but I was desperate for information. After all, it's not like you learn that a student at your school could be part of an elite club of criminal masterminds, right?

I found myself completely engrossed in my study of my given topic. I rented every horror film concerning werewolves or shape-shifters that I could find and made a rather long list of components each movie held, which ones stood out the most.

I had kept my promise to Dick and to Raven, but it didn't mean that I hadn't tucked the ominous Slade figure away in a mental folder to get back to. The same went for that Malchior kid.

Despite my best attempts to take an interest in the latest modifications Vic had made to his car aka "his baby", I couldn't concentrate. Not that I had ever had a great deal of ability to concentrate for a long while on something I wasn't terribly interested in in the first place, but even this was…

"Ridiculous," Vic said.

"Huh?" I replied, snapping back into reality.

"The price I paid for all the parts, the deal I got was ridiculous," Vic restated.

"Oh, yeah, totally dude." Even I could detect the disinterest in my voice.

Vic's brows knitted. "Ok, Gar, I know that you're digging the assignment you were given, but c'mon dude! Snap out of it! You're becoming obsessed."

"Yeah, right, you're completely right," I said, nodding slowly.

"So we both agree that you need another hobby?" Vic said, his arms crossing over his chest.

Again, I nodded, my mind working over what that new hobby could be and then I had a great, albeit a bit of a self-serving, idea.

"Vic, do you still dabble in doing blacksmith work?" I asked with a raised brow.

"Uh, well, I do from time to time. Why?"

Ok, time for a good reason. "Well, it's time consuming but not as much that I couldn't juggle it with my studies and you could teach me."

Vic was silent for a moment, clearly thinking my logic over before he let out a sigh.

"Well, I suppose it's better than you talking about werewolves and secret societies all the time." He gave me a very smooth smile. "All right, grass stain, I'll take you on as an apprentice…but just remember that I'm your Master."

I scowled. "Don't be cocky."

Bingo. Despite his comment, I was celebrating on the inside.

Yes, I had an ulterior motive to wanting to learn how to be a blacksmith. And yes, it had to do with my assignment.

I wanted to learn how to cast my own bullets. Of course, if I had mentioned that to Vic I'm sure he would've called up Dick and both would've had me committed to the psych ward and put on a forty-eight hour Thorazine drip just to be on the safe side.

Here's what I'd learned from all my movie watching: Silver bullet = Death.

Only thing was, after doing further research on why that was, I came to know three more things, one of which being that silver was thought to be a purifying metal and two, Hollywood had taken the idea of killing a werewolf with a silver bullet from the case of The Beast of Gévaudan since it was said that the Beast's killer had shot it with a blessed silver bullet.

I was never a religious type, but given the time in which The Beast of Gévaudan supposedly was out on a murderous rampage in the south-central French province, the Catholic Church had a strong hold over people.

The third thing I learned seemed to be the big key in poking a hole in this theory. Silver is a soft metal.

I'd listened to Dick ramble on about how bullet casings received marks from the chamber of the guns they were shot out of and that bullets were made out of lead because they were strong enough to grasp the side of chambers.

I was currently in the library gathering more information on firearms throughout the century, like the one that had supposedly shot the blessed silver bullet and ended the reign of The Beast of Gévaudan.

I was determined to prove my own theory – A silver bullet would not be able to work on its own and that in order for the target to be shot at its intended target it would have to someone be mixed with another metal.

I knew that I'd have to convince Dick to help me out on proving my theory somehow. After all, I'd never shot a gun in my life and Dick was the one who was studying Criminal Justice and liked to brag about his marksmanship.

Also, after having the librarian search for a good twenty minutes, she had managed to find a book on Alchemy and other supposed sacred metals over the ages. The text was a leather-bound edition, rather old and musty smelling, like something that seemed like it should've been in a museum.

My free hand was reaching out to grab said textbook when another blocked my path. I stopped by furious scribbling in my notebook, ready to curse out the person who had stopped me while I was on a roll, but as I looked up and realized who it was, the words dried up in my throat.

"Are you an alchemist now, Garfield?" Raven asked, a smirk on her lips and a brow arched in what I could guess was amusement.

I cleared my throat. "No, uh, research."

She gave a disbelieving look and took the seat next to me quite to my shock. We hadn't spoken since that day I had asked her about Black Mass. I was sure that she had vowed to never speak to me again.

"Research," she repeated, her eyes narrowing in a skeptical manner. "About what metal?"

I knew that she knew my answer. She was just testing me. Ok, fine.

"Silver," I replied smoothly, leaning back in my chair casually.

A sigh escaped her. "And I thought that Dick was just over exaggerating your obsessive behavior when I overheard him talking to Kori."

"I'm not obsess…wait a minute, 'overheard' or eavesdropping?"

"Wh-What?" she asked, clearly flustered at my question. "I don't eavesdrop. That's rude. Besides, why would be eavesdropping when they were talking about you?"

Now it was my turn to smirk. "I don't know. Perhaps curiosity or perhaps because you just might care about me just a smidgen."

"Care," she said as though the word was foreign to her.

"Yes, care…about me."

Her violet-blue eyes glanced away quickly from me. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Admit it, Raven, some part of you cares. If you didn't you wouldn't have warned me about Black Mass."

"Wrong. I warned you about it because a clueless twit like yourself shouldn't be trying to mess with things he has no capacity to understand," she shot back, her voice rising slightly.

"Then why even come over here?"

"I…well…I just…" Raven stammered.

"You just what?" I asked as I leaned closer to her and we locked gazes. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my stomach rolling about like there was a storm going on inside.

Raven opened her mouth to say something and then shut it, glancing away, and then back to me.

"Tell me, Raven," I said gently, more gently than I thought I ever could speak to someone. "Please," I added after another long moment of silence.

And with a sigh, she relented.

"Because perhaps just some very, very small part of me doesn't want to see you get hurt or lost in your newfound love of knowledge gathering."

I smiled gently. "You want to be my anchor?"

Raven met my gaze once more, searching for a hint of a joke in my question was my best guess. Ever so carefully I moved my hand over to her small hand, just letting it rest upon it lightly.

"I'd really like that," I replied sincerely and let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding when she visibly relaxed.

AN: Ta-Dah! A new chapter! I know it's been a long time coming but boy has life been hectic!

As always, feedback is much appreciated. I'm really excited to start jumping back into this story as I work on another fanfic for the movie Gabriel.