Chapter Six.

.Speedy.

"What you're seeing right now is raw footage from this morning's raid on what was believed to be the Heroes and Villains Protection Agency (HVPA) headquarters right here in the heart of Jump City. Our cameras followed the Jump City SWAT team into the basement of the building where the so-called heroes were kept in hiding."

The spoon I had been holding halfway between my mouth and my cereal bowl dropped, splashing milk and store brand cereal across the kitchen table. With my eyes still glued on the TV screen, I turned the volume up while I sat stunned into silence. We'd been relocated over a month ago and some of us had even tricked ourselves into believing that things would finally settle down.

"The large building complex, formerly an office space, was believed to hold hundreds of marked men and women sheltered by the HVPA. These men and women were encouraged—"

I scoffed. "More like threatened," I muttered at the TV anchorwoman.

"—to turn themselves in to the local authorities but Jump City's head of security, Mark Collins, established a program to 'protect' these individuals from prosecution. His contradictory stance on the issue led to his resignation two days ago and the reappointment of former head of security, Ronald L. Johnson."

I grimaced as the screen changed to a portrait of Ronald Johnson his finger pointing at the camera in an Uncle Sam-esque manner at the first anti-marked rally he held. The man, in his late forties, wouldn't be intimidating physically, except for the wild look of determination in his eyes and his commanding posture.

"In an exclusive interview with Jump City news, Johnson said that he was appalled with Collins' course of action and that the only suitable response would have been to transfer the marked heroes and villains to a secure facility."

I was vaguely aware of my new mother entering the kitchen and heading straight to the coffee maker, or my new dad taking a seat at the breakfast counter next to me, eyes wearily tuning into the newscast.

"Under Johnson's lead, a new group has formed against Collins and the HVPA. They call themselves the 'Anti-Marked Civilian Association' (AMCA) with the goal of finding, identifying and containing anyone considered marked. Johnson, the leader, has begun to compile files and data on marked individuals in hiding and will make the information and photos public later this week."

"Not good news, son," my dad said, clapping his hand on my back as he stood.

I shrugged and returned to eating my cereal as the news switched to commercial and my mother turned down the volume. "Johnson is on a power trip," I told my dad between mouthfuls of food. "He was taking a left turn from a right lane when Beastboy hit him and, instead of taking the fault, is blaming it on Beastboy and, in turn, anyone with special abilities," I added, avoiding the term marked.

My mother sighed, shaking her head and refusing to join in the conversation. I wasn't quite sure how she felt about it all and part of me believes that my father is really an HVPA supporter and that my mother supports my father but not the cause.

"What do you think of this whole AMCA thing?" I asked my dad. "I mean, 'Anti-Marked Civilian Association?' What are they going to do, pass out buttons and share stories around a campfire?"

He turned and looked at me with tired eyes. "They're going to set a culture," he said slowly. "If Johnson gets his hands on photos, information and descriptions, society is going to turn on itself trying to turn in people that look like you or Robin or Beastboy." Dad suddenly looked much older as he ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair. "And, if anyone is able to actually identify one of you…well, people are cruel. The best hope would be that you would be turned in to the AMCA without harm."

.Terra.

Conference room A of the Marked Center in Lanesburg was nearly full with loyal HVPA members, marked heroes and their families.

We had all seen, or at least heard of, the news broadcast this morning and Anthony Cray, the head HPVA official in Lanesburg, called an emergency meeting in response.

Without meaning to, the meeting became segregated as HVPA members gathered on one side of the room and the marked gathered on the other.

I sat impatiently, hugging my legs to my chest as I leaned against Beastboy, listening to Kid Flash prattle on about a pick-up basketball game he had played with his brother before the meeting. A large group of us were sitting on the floor, waiting for news.

"BB, do you think they're going to find us?" I asked quietly, not wanting to be overheard. I shivered at the though, letting my blond hair form a curtain to hide my face.

Still looking at Kid Flash, he rested his head on top of mine for a second while he spoke. "They won't find us," he assured me before half-heartedly laughing at something someone else in the group said. "We're going to stick together and we're going to stay safe. I promise."

I nodded numbly, choosing to believe him rather than challenge his words. Across the circle, Raven caught my eye, a violet eyebrow raising in concern. I shook my head, averting her gaze, and let out an audible sigh of relief when Anthony Cray finally took the microphone.

.Raven.

"Let me get this straight," I said to Jinx and Terra as we walked out of the MC, waving goodbye to our friends as we started to walk home. "Instead of letting them find us, we are just going to put ourselves out there."

Terra wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged, unusually quiet after the meeting let out. "I guess," she mumbled.

Jinx, however, was trying to take a more optimistic approach. "The AMCA would never see it coming," she said thoughtfully as she balanced walking on the curb, her arms out in a graceful gymnastic posture. "And people are pretty stupid. If a mask can conceal an identity, then no one would recognize us out of uniform and out of context."

I smirked—she had a point.

"It's completely stupid, and that's why it's going to work," Jinx announced.

Eight marked were assigned to Lanesburg: Jinx, Terra, Beastboy, Kid Flash, Kid Wykkyd, Aqualad, Speedy, Jericho and me. That's a lot of new students to suddenly receive at once without a reason.

So the HVPA made one.

Tomorrow, Jinx was going to met with a reporter from the Lanesburg Harold and tell them all about this new immersion program that was happening this year. She would tell them about how the eight of us had transferred from Rapid City Academy, a small private boarding school.

"While Rapid City Academy excelled in academics and extracurriculars, its small student body was not conducive to forming strong social bonds, so our new program allows students to experience a 'typical high school experience' for a year," Jinx said mockingly, reciting everything that Anthony Cray had said at the meeting. "Unfortunately, the school officials are unable to comment and our parents, due to a privacy contract, will not contact the media. Any questions, however, can be redirected to our program coordinator, Anthony Cray."

I had to admit, Jinx made a good liar. If she got on camera, batted her cat-like eyes a few times and forced a sparkling smile, she could play the part of appreciative, studious and excited for the chance to experience a mediocre life.

As if reading my mind, she looked at me and said, "Lying 101, it was one of the first classes they taught us at the Hive Academy for Extraordinary Young People."

Terra let out a small giggle, unsure if Jinx was lying or not, but I knew she was telling the truth. A shadow passed over her face as, I assumed, she remembered her past as a villainess.

Memory was a dangerous thing, I've found. It would be easy to get wrapped up in the past but, right now, it doesn't look like the future is any safer.

.Kid Flash.

A rather loud ding made me jump, dropping the wii controller in my hand, much to Shawn's dismay.

"Dude, watch the merchandise!" he complained as I grinned sheepishly and stretched, happy to take a break. It's been raining the meeting yesterday so Shawn and I locked ourselves in our room playing a marathon of videogames. As fun as it was, standing every now and then felt better.

The screen of my laptop flashed 'New message' and I clicked accept. Immediately, a chat box opened.

MissFortune: ugh, that interview took hours.

I smirked—Jinx promised she'd let me know about her meeting with the Lanesburg Harold and, as I figured, she wasn't too cheery after it.

MissFortune: they asked me so many more questions than i expected.

MissFortune: what classes did i take?

MissFortune: where was the school?

MissFortune: did i like it here?

MissFortune: …are you even listening?

TyflashL09: of course. you're just talking too fast.

MissFortune: or maybe you're just slow.

TyflashL09: have i told you that your screen name is awesome? misfortune? i get it. cute. ;)

MissFortune: you're an idiot.

TyflashL09: :D

TyflashL09: so how did it go?

MissFortune: boring. but the media knows what they need to know now. they should be satisfied.

TyflashL09: hopefully that buys us time. i don't feel so good about it…

MissFortune: whatever. what's the worst they can do? freeze us? give us to the non-existent brotherhood of evil? take away our powers?

TyflashL09: don't jinx it.

TyflashL09: …haha. get it? :D

MissFortune: … on second thought, they can come and get us.

TyflashL09: :P

MissFortune: carson wants me to watch a movie with him, so i'll see you in school toorrow

TyflashL09: sounds good. good night :)

MissFortune: night

.Jinx.

The next day of school went by quickly. Thank god.

Our group picture was taken first thing in the morning, so naturally it was okay for me to have a bad hair day on one of the few days it mattered. Suzanne did her best to help me by adding a braid to tame my bubblegum pink locks but, only having raised a son, she gave me a weak thumbs up as I left.

"Good luck!" she called as I ran out the front door for the bus, one hand holding down the bottom of my black dress. I flashed her a quick nervous smile in response, climbed onto the bus and wished the day would just end.

"That was interesting," Terra murmured once the photographer was done with us, muttering to himself about what a motley crew we were. "I think he was thrown off by the rainbow of hair color we have."

I cast one quick look at her strawberry blonde locks and rolled my eyes. Terra, most of the others who were marked, looked normal. The rest of us were a bit more…peculiar looking, which was something that was acknowledged by accepted.

By the following school day, the picture and associated article were plastered on the front of the Lanesburg Herald and apparently everyone loved it because students, teachers and strangers would pull me over to ask how the program was going, if I liked the town, and why I couldn't share any details about my school. Great.

.Terra.

As soon as she arrived at the lunch table, Jinx smacked her head against the table and stopped moving, her braid narrowly missing the ketchup smeared across Beastboy's plate as he wolfed down an order of fries.

"I hate people," she mumbled, her words barely audible.

Kid Flash barked out a short laugh and put his arm on her back sympathetically. Luckily for the rest of us, Jinx had really been stuck with the most attention from the article and, to the HVPA's delight, everyone seemed satisfied with the explanation for the eight new students at Lanesburg High.

"Is anyone up for a trip to the MC after school?" I asked, suddenly realizing how much I missed my powers since having to go into hiding. "I'm dying to get some good exercise."

A few of them shrugged and gave noncommittal mumbles and I sighed. We've been in hiding for weeks now and I was getting antsy, feeling a disconnect with my element.

"Can't," Raven said simply, not even looking up from the novel in her hands. "History project tonight with Kyle." At this, Kid Wykkyd nodded silently.

"I'm up for it!" Kid Flash announced and I grinned, knowing that he was like me—itching to be relieved of the pressure of hiding, even it was only for a little bit. Watching him 'run' in gym was sad—you could tell he wanted to go so much faster but couldn't. "Jenn, you in?"

We both looked at Jinx expectantly, but she only let out another miserable groan. "I have plans."

"With who?" Kid Flash said in disbelief. "Is it a family thing?"

She shook her head, still not looking up.

"With Caleb."

Jinx had only vaguely mentioned his name before, but I knew that she wasn't a fan of the kid. Kid Flash visibly stiffened, letting out a large exhale before attempting to speak.

"…why?" he asked after a short period of silence.

"Can't you just ditch and come with us?" I asked, less interested in the reasoning and more wanting her to come with me to the MC. "Or you could bring him with you and he could have an unfortunate 'accident'," I suggested with a smirk.

Finally picking her head up, she looked at us with defeat. "His mother is the mayor. She liked the article so much that she called my parents last night and invited us over for dinner to 'discuss the wonderful opportunity I had been presented with' and so she could 'meet the ambitious young woman who smiled so pretty in the picture.'" Using an annoyingly high-pitched voice to imitate Caleb's mother, Jinx even put air quotes around the compliments.

For all of a second, a dark look crossed over Kid Flash's face but he quickly hid it, instead turning on the charm. "Sounds like a good thing to me," he announced, elbowing Jinx with his signature smirk. Before any of us could ask how, he added, "The more you hate him, the better I look. Right?"

Luckily for him, the lunch bell rang, and our group went their separate ways through the hallways of the school.

.Jinx.

Ever have that feeling of dread where you would do anything possible to make something happen slower? But, instead, time passes even quicker?

Before I knew it, I dressed up and sitting between Kirsten and Carson in the Johnson's dining room. Mayor Linda Johnson sat first at one end of the table and the rest of us filed in after. Caleb, naturally, sat directly across from me and, I swear, if his foot so much as touched mine, I'd shoot a hex at him under the table and really hit him where it hurts.

"Thank you so much for inviting us to your lovely home," Suzanne cooed, doing her best to flatter Mayor Johnson. Before coming, she confided that the mayor was a very arrogant, rather rude woman, but she knew better than to let her opinion be known now.

Knowing this was my cue, I added, "I feel lucky to meet you and have dinner with your family." All fake smiles and artificial sweetener. Nice, Jinx.

The mayor beamed and faked brushing away the compliment, muttering 'too kind, too kind.'

"So, dear," she said, looking at me as she cut into the lemon chicken on her plate, spilling a little rice over the edge of the plate and onto the table cloth. "Caleb has told me stories—" I glared at him momentarily and he returned it with a grin. "—but I want to hear from you. Tell me about yourself: what you like, how you're liking LHS, what your hobbies are."

All eyes turned on me and I almost wanted to launch into the more interesting story of how I had been training to be a villainess since childhood, found the error in my ways and became a hero…but that's not the story they wanted to hear.

So, instead, I told them about the mediocre existence of Jenn Kyng. I loved gymnastics and track, my favorite subject was art, and I was so flattered that everyone had been so kind to me after I was in the newspaper.

Ugh. Barf.

Luckily, I was cut short after the front door opened and slammed and angry footsteps approached the living room.

"Linda! Please tell me there's food—I'm so damn exhausted and I just can't seem to get a break—"

I got a good look at the man and froze.

Hastily, the mayor stood, brushing rice off of the napkin on her lap and swallowing the sip of wine she had just taken. "Sorry, Ronald, I wasn't expecting you until later tonight," she quickly apologized. "Ronald, these are our guests, the Kyngs. Mark, Suzanne and Jennifer, this is my husband Ronald."

It's weird. I spent the first fourteen years of my life thinking the good guys were my enemies. Then the past year thinking the bad guys were. But the feeling I felt when I was face-to-face with the man who was responsible for foricing my friends and I into hiding was more than hate or spite or disgust.

My breathing became labored as I tried to keep my emotions in check and, luckily, everyone was too busy looking at him to notice me.

Everyone except Carson, who slipped his hand into mine and squeezed it in the cute and reassuring way that only 10-year-olds can.

"Nice to meet you, sir," I said between clenched teeth, trying to force a smile. "I have heard so much about you."

Mark and Suzanne, who had both paled, must have known who he was and just not put the pieces together, because they exchanged short pleasantries with Ronald as he joined us, immediately serving himself to the dinner laid out on the table.

"The meeting I had today was cut short, thankfully, so I was able to escape the office and come home early," Ronald said, obviously proud of himself. "The AMCA has made many great strides already and we're almost ready to make another public announcement."

I stiffened, not wanting to hear any more about his 'accomplishments' but knowing that this was a good opportunity to hear more about his plans.

"What kind of announcement?" I asked innocently.

Ronald laughed, "Why, identities and approximate locations, of course." Mark and Suzanne froze and even Carson started to feel the tension in the room. "Those damn marked won't be able to hide forever—I have people everywhere searching and researching and, eventually, finding."

"Dad's been busy making connections to major networks and important people," Caleb bragged, his green eyes sparkling with pride. "He's a very powerful man and he's actually doing his job right. I know he's going to find every last one of them."

Kirsten, who I had forgotten was beside me, quietly excused herself and I wished I could do the same. Swallowing everything I wanted to say in defense of my friends was hard but Caleb kept sneaking glances at me so I couldn't let anything show.

"Caleb's right," the mayor intoned, "I can't believe what Mark Collins did, letting them all escape. Helping those… those people…it's almost as bad as being one of them," she said, nodding her head thoughtfully to her own words.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

"It's still a very controversial issue," Mark agreed. "Kind of like that proposal to build a casino—"

"What do you think of it, Jennifer?"

I glared at Ronald who unabashedly interrupted my father. All eyes turned to me and I felt a mixture of rage and anxiety course through my veins.

"I…" I paused then looked Ronald L. Johnson straight in the eye. "I think that this is a dangerous issue," I began. "Very dangerous. And I don't think anyone knows what they're in for."

He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to comment but I was saved by his cell phone ringing. As he left the table to the mayor's protest of 'no phone calls during dinner!', Kirsten returned and an uncomfortable silence settled.

Dinner went by quickly after that with Ronald out of the room for the majority of it. After what felt like forever, my family finally stood and began expressing gratitude (and a desire to leave).

We had just made it to the door before Ronald's triumphant cry reached us.

"LINDA!" he shouted, shooting past us to the living room. "I have FANTASTIC news…"

Whatever it was, I knew that, for us, it must be the exact opposite.

.Raven.

My cell phone vibrated, 'one missed call' and 'one new voicemail' both displaying on the front screen. I took a quick look at the number.

Unknown number. Awesome.

Nevertheless, I opened the voicemail, my finger hovering over the 'delete' button until I hearda familiar voice. "Friend Raven, I hope this is you, for Robin and I are in trouble and I could not find anyone else," the message started.

I gasped, wondering how Starfire could have possibly found my cell phone number.

"I am afraid our identities have been, as Robin says, compromised, and we are on our own now. We are on our way to you and I am very afraid."

Starfire's breath was fast, as if she was running while she spoke, and there were a few muffled noises before Robin spoke.

"The AMCA, Raven, it's real. And they mean business," he huffed into the phone, also running, I assumed. "I'll explain how we found you later, but just be on the look out. Things aren't safe. We aren't safe. And, you need to know—"

"End of new message!"

So, this is the first time I've written fanfiction in six years-please feel free to provide feedback (the constructive or destructive kinds). I'm pretty sure my writing style has changed since this story started, but I am doing my best to stay consistent while also improving.

There are a couple of things I wanted to point out in this author's note. First, I feel like I got carried away with creating characters, so I'm trying to really only include the important ones from now on. Second, I hope you guys don't mind but I'm going to continue this story in present time (so 2012, rather than 'present time' in 2006). Third, I know this chapter was a little more dry than the others but I had to spend a little more time on plot and a little less on characters.

Thank you to everyone that encouraged me to continue-I'm having fun and I hope you all enjoy reading this.