"Ladies and gentlemen!" a man shouts somewhere nearby. "Boys and girls of all ages..."

Little Richard Grayson stands behind a curtain in the red and white striped circus tent. The smell of livestock, cigarette smoke, cotton candy, and popcorn fills his nostrils.

"It's show time, Dick," his mother says, standing behind him.

The butterflies assault his stomach and he knows she's feeling them too.

She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently.

His father walks up behind them, putting an arm around his mother and kissing her cheek.

Dick looks up to his father, his face stoic with a twinkle in an eye.

His father looks down to him with a smirk.

"Just remember what we taught you, and you'll be fine," he says with a wink.

"I love you, Dick," his mom says.

Dick smirks at her and lets out a long breath and then another.

"And now, without further ado," the announcer calls. "The Flying Graysons!"

Dick's heart triples its pace and he walks out with his parents to thunderous applause.

Seconds later, they're on top of the trapeze platforms, waiting to begin.

The crowd falls silent in anticipation.

The spotlights find them.

Dick takes one last look at his father, who winks and swings away. The crowd applauds as his mother catches his father in midair.

Dick lets out a bunch of quick breaths as he waits for the trapeze to return. He reaches out and catches it. His father nods and he knows it's time.

The crowd falls silent again.

Dick pulls against the swing, and jumps into the air, letting it carry him across the gap. One, two. One, two, he begins his count, his mother's voice echoing in his mind. Mind the count, Dick. It can save your life, or our lives...

The wind rushes through his hair, the ground passes below him. He releases the swing and seems to hang in midair, reaching both hands into empty air.

His father catches him.

The crowd roars.

And just like that, the butterflies are gone, and he knows that this is what he was born for.

They run through a few more jumps, each more difficult than the last. Never lose the count, Dick, his mother's voice echoes again.

Dick catches the swing again and takes flight. He lets go of the swing, hurling himself into the air, flipping and spinning. He had lost the count and jumped too early.

His mother was late getting there and he tumbles towards the earth below.

The crowd lets out a collective gasp.

He resists the urge to scream and grits his teeth. His body slams into the safety net and bounces a few times before he comes to a complete stop.

The crowd cheers as he makes his way to the ground.

He hangs his head in shame, knowing that he blew it big time.

His mother offers a sympathetic nod.

He makes his way towards the ladder to climb back up, but his father waves him off with a shake of his head, his signal that Dick is done for the night.

Dick tries to stiffen his upper lip as he walks back towards the curtain.

"You'll get em next time, Dickie," the daughter of the animal trainer says.

Dick just shakes his head in a daze.

The young girl nudges his shoulder and tries to offer a smile while trying to blow strands of her black hair out of her face.

He watches his parents take flight, and finds himself in awe of them. So graceful. So amazing.

The crowd cheers wildly, then falls silent again and again.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," the ring announcer come out again. "If you're impressed now, just you wait."

He explains that the safety net will now be removed, and each of their stunts will be even more dangerous, and spectacular.

Dick watches in awed silence. No matter how many times he's seen them in action, it will never get old.

He watches his mother fly through the air, and for a minute, he really believes that she can fly. The way she turns in the air like she can manipulate her own gravity.

And then.

Then the unthinkable happens.

His father catches her with one strong arm, and the rope tears, sending them falling towards the ring below.

The crowd lets out a horrified wail.

Dick feels his legs moving before making the decision to run for them. Something tugs on his red tunic, but he just runs harder.

"NO!"

Something blurs in front of him.

Crack!

Something warm, thick, and wet splashes his face. He opens his eyes and sees only red. He wipes at his face, horrified beyond imagining. There in front of him, lay the crumpled, broken bodies of his parents.

"NO!" he wails, barely intelligible. "No, no, no, no..."

The circus all but explodes in hysteria, but for Dick, there's nothing, but him and his parents.

He falls to his knees before them, tears mixing with the blood covering his face.

"Don't..." he says. "Don't..."

His whole body heaves with each shuddering breath.

"I love you... Don't leave me..."

A new voice enters his awareness- an eerie, cold, heartless, voice.

"Everyone you love will leave you," it hisses. "EVERYONE!"

His eyes rip open and he sits up in bed heaving, gasping for breath. Rain patters softly against the giant window across from the bed. He waits for his eyes to adjust to the dark, and he knows that he's in his room in Titans Tower.

Have you ever woken from a nightmare, and reassured yourself in the knowledge that it was just a dream?

Ever told yourself that your nightmare couldn't hurt you?

Unfortunately for Robin, his nightmare is not merely a dream and though it occurred long ago, he is all too aware that it can, and in fact does hurt him.

He checks the clock. 3:37 A.M. Ugh...

He rolls from his bed, his bare torso drenched in sweat. He walks across the gray room and heads into his bathroom. He tries to catch his breath and splashes cold water on his face. He puts on a red hoody, and his mask, then heads to the kitchen for a snack. The halls are quiet as they usually are at this hour. Once he reaches the kitchen, he sees that plates with dried food crusted on them clutter up the counters. The stove has grease layered on it, and the sink is piled full of dishes. He rolls his eyes. Looks like Cyborg had a midnight snack.

The freezer door creaks as he opens it, and his profile becomes illuminated by the light bulb in the freezer. Instead of finding his favorite ice cream, he finds a note.

Robin,

finished off your chocolate. Sorry.

Cy

A familiar presence enters his awareness, a warm sensation in his chest pulsing ever so slightly. Shaking his head, he closes the freezer door and opens the fridge, finding his chocolate mousse is also missing.

"Cyborg," he grumbles.

"Actually," a detached female voice says. "Beast Boy ate your mousse yesterday."

Raven approaches the counter, wearing her usual dark blue cloak, her hood hiding her face.

"I see Cyborg's been busy," she deadpans.

"Beast Boy too, apparently."

He can't see it, but he knows she's smirking.

"What are you doing up?" he asks.

"Couldn't sleep," she says.

"A lot of that going around."

He looks around, finding Raven's teapot.

"Tea?"

She nods, her cloak going up, and down.

"Comin' up."

It will take considerable time to clear a space to the sink, he thinks, but a black aura engulfs the dishes, suspending them above the sink, giving Robin room to maneuver.

He turns back to Raven and smirks.

Though he can't see it, he knows that she's smirking back.

Only a few minutes later, the teapot has boiled and Raven drops two teabags into it while Robin finds them two teacups.

They work in silence. The soft rain, the only sound to be heard.

He sets the cups down in front of Raven, then crosses into the living room and opens the curtains to peer out at the predawn morning.

"Honey?" she says.

He turns around, and looks her way.

"What?"

She stiffens a bit. Most people wouldn't notice, but Robin's not most people.

"Do you want honey in your tea?" she monotones.

"Oh, sure," he says.

Then he turns back to the window. After a time, he sees Raven coming up behind him in the window's reflection.

She stands next to him and hands him his cup.

"Thanks," he says.

She nods and sips her tea, looking out the window.

Aside from the rain, no sound but their soft breathing can be heard in the comfortable silence.

Their silences are always comfortable; neither needing to fill an imagined void with needless chatter. Just being in each others presence has been a comfort in itself. The two have been close friends for a long time, made closer after Raven had to enter his mind in order to free him from a delusion. Since that time, they've shared a bond between them- a bond that has only grown over time,

Robin can't really explain it now. It's as if a piece of her essence- a piece of her stayed with him after the mind meld. He can feel it in his chest, a warm safe place. When she's near, it seems to pulsate ever so slightly.

Apparently she's experienced the same thing and she can't explain it either.

The feeling grew stronger after the defeat of Trigon, Raven's father.

She had lost all hope, but Robin wouldn't give in- couldn't give in. He helped her and together with the rest of the team, they did the impossible.

Slowly, Raven became less reserved after that.

Robin blows on his tea to cool it, the steam fogging up the window in front of him.

Standing perfectly upright, Raven turns her head towards him ever so slightly, her face still bathed in shadow.

Her body language is all wrong, Robin thinks. Too stiff, too erect, too... something...

It reminds him of when she had first joined the team. Those first few uneasy weeks when he didn't know how to talk to her and she didn't know how to be a member of a team, or how to have friends.

She wants to say something, he can tell, but probably doesn't know how, or what. He decides to just sip his tea, and wait. He's found that patience is always a good policy with Raven and he is very patient.

In the window's reflection, he can still see Raven's head turned his way.

"So, why couldn't you sleep?" Raven finally says.

Robin shrugs, looking straight ahead.

"Nightmare," he says.

She nods.

"Bad?"

He shrugs and sips his tea.

Raven goes silent again, going stiffer than before.

Robin recognizes the tone, and the way she holds the teacup so tightly. Why so frustrated?

"Do..." she trails off.

Robin waits some more.

Finally, she pulls her hood back to reveal her shoulder length violet hair and her milky smooth skin, then turns fully towards him.

He faces her, meeting her violet eyes, waiting.

She lets out a breath, and timidly continues.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" she asks.

"What?"

"Your nightmare."

"Oh," he says.

They fall back into a silence, slightly less comfortable than usual.

"So?" she asks.

He shrugs and turns away from the window, heading for the long couch and sits down, then he watches her come towards him and sit on the couch a few feet from him.

She shuffles to get more comfortable and waits for him to begin, watching him intently.

He sips his tea, collecting his thoughts.

"Was it your parents?"

She had seen glimpses of their death when she entered his mind, and he had told her some vague details a few different times.

Over the years they have both shared many things that they would never share with the others.

He downs the rest of his tea, and sets the cup down in front of the curved black couch, then sits back, and lets out a long sigh.

She finishes her tea and sets her cup down as well.

"It's always the same," he says. "It's as if I'm reliving the memory over, and over again."

She gives a sympathetic nod.

"Is it exactly how it really happened?"

"Yes."

A pained expression crosses her face, then is gone.

"Mostly," he says.

"Mostly?"

He hasn't told her about the voice, and he isn't sure why. Maybe a part of him doesn't want her to know his greatest fear.

"Robin?" her voice breaks him out of his thoughts.

"Hmm?" he says.

"What's different?"

He supposes it won't hurt to share this with her.

"I hear a voice, a creepy, cold voice."

She nods intently, waiting.

He tells her what the voice said.

"Robin," she begins. "just because Starfire had to return to Tamaran, doesn't mean that everyone will leave you."

"I've been having the dream and hearing the voice since long before I ever met Starfire," he says, trying force the anger, and pain back down. "Starfire was just the most recent example proving the voice right."

"She didn't want to leave, Robin. She had to, for her people."

"I know," he says. "And my parents didn't choose to leave, they were murdered. It's not like I blame them. The fact remains that everyone close to me either leaves, or is taken from me."

Raven goes quiet again.

It's no secret that the team's been having a rough go of it since Starfire left three months ago, and though he won't show it outwardly, it's no secret that Robin took it harder than the rest of the team.

Robin stares straight ahead, but out of the corner of his vision, he can see her tensing again, and looking at him.

"I'm sorry those things have happened to you," she says finally. "but you can't let them affect who you are- what you are."

"I know," he says. "And I won't- I can't. But it's hard not to feel..."

"Cursed?" she finishes.

He nods.

If anyone can understand the feeling, it's her, he thinks.

She nods slowly.

"You're not cursed, Robin," she says.

He nods and settles back on the couch.

Raven brings her legs up beside her and fidgets with her cloak, trying to get more comfortable.

Lightning flashes in the distance, followed by rumbling thunder.

Robin ruffles his short dark hair, then puts both hands in the sweatshirt's pockets.

(******)

Raven

She watches the boy wonder as he breathes slowly on the couch, neither of them saying anything.

His nightmare had invaded her dream and she had seen and heard it all.

That was not the first time that something like that has happened, but never to this degree- never so vivid- so disturbing.

She feels guilty for intruding on his private memories. Though she had no control over it, she can't help but blame herself and wonder what he would think if he knew she had seen all that she had.

After cleaning up a little and grabbing her cloak, she had decided to come looking for him. He was not been hard to find.

What was hard, was trying to help him. She hadn't known how to ask the right questions; she had not known the right questions period. Luckily, the boy wonder was patient, as he always has been.

He was in pain and she knew it. She wanted so desperately to help him, like he had always helped her, but her words just seemed so inadequate. She tried it anyway and found herself not getting very far. In fact, she fears that she may have made him feel worse.

She shuffles on the couch; always amazed at how comfortable it is. Everyone close to me either leaves or is taken, his words ring in her mind.

She wants to tell him that he isn't alone; that she is still there and won't be going anywhere, but somehow can't bring herself to form the words. The silence drags on. She can't think of anything to say, though she desperately wishes that she could.

Lightning flashes again, and this time, the thunder is barely audible. The sound of the rain relaxes her, and her breathing becomes rhythmic.

"You sure?" he asks, finally breaking the silence.

It takes her a second to respond, blinking into the dark, not remembering when she had closed her eyes.

"Hmm?" she barely manages.

He chuckles softly.

"It was nothing."

She nods, struggling to keep her eyes open, then leans her head back against the cushion. Sleep claiming her almost immediately.

(******)

Robin

He smirks to himself as Raven snores ever softly on the couch. He pulls his feet up onto the couch and lays down flat, his feet almost touching hers. He stares up at the ceiling, and clears his mind of the pain of the last few months, and the images that haunt his dreams. He focuses on Raven's barely audible snoring, and the rain pattering against the window. He breathes deep, closes his eyes and lets sleep take him.

(******)

Robin jolts awake on the couch, sitting up quickly. An alarm bell rings out from somewhere, and it takes him a minute to realize that it isn't a crime in progress alarm, but his T-communicator.

Raven sits up and looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

He rips the comm out of his pocket and activates it, looking at the small screen. An image of an older man with balding white hair. Alfred?

"Master, Ri- Robin," Alfred says with his kind, British accent. "I'm afraid there's been an incident."

Oh, no...

"Alfred," Robin says. "What's happened? Is Batman alright?"

Raven edges closer to him, her face bathed in concern.

"The master is fine," Alfred says. "I'm afraid it is miss Gordon."

Robin notes Alfred's use of her formal name rather than her status as Batgirl. His fists clench automatically and his heart speeds up.

"Is she..." he trails off.

"She has been shot."


Author's note

Hey, all.

I've been watching the reruns of Teen Titans on Boomerang the last couple days and checked out some of the stories here. Ya'll seem like a truly awesome fandom and I'd love to be a part of it. This is my first attempt to write into this fandom and I don't have the most vast knowledge of the show's universe, though I'm pretty familiar with DC Comics.

My grammar's not the best, but better than some. I've had a wicked cold that's been seriously hampering my focus, so if there are all kinds of grammar and spelling mistakes, know that I tried my very best to catch them. I couldn't make it look like I wanted and the site got rid of all my centered text and things like that, so it appears a bit messy. Sorry

If you have any questions, don't hesitate. I love reviews, so please leave me one.

Thanks for reading,

mojo