I don't own Teen Titans

Raven stood atop Titan's Tower on another warm, quiet night. A gentle breeze tugged at her violet locks. She took a deep breath as she lowered herself, cross-legged, to the ground. The air was sweet and familiar, carrying the scent of childhood summers.
Another deep breath as she began the slow process of clearing her mind. Things were different for the Titans now, almost calm. Aside from the stray criminal or misplaced monster, they were all able to breathe a little more freely. Trigon was dead, the Brotherhood defeated, and Slade was nowhere to be found. Even Robin seemed to unwind a little. Again, another deep breath; cleansing, calming, each breath taking away the thoughts from the day.
Emphasis on "a little." Robin still stayed up at night, thinking no one was awake, trying to track down Slade. The other Titans knew, but they took it as part of who he had become. They didn't waste their time trying to convince him otherwise.
Raven had particularly enjoyed the lull in activity. She was able to catch up on her reading and meditate more than she had in quite some time. She felt at peace, save for a few minor annoyances: Beast Boy's constant jokes; his bickering with Cyborg about which movie to watch or game to play. Still, it was routine, and Raven enjoyed rituals.
She emptied her lungs slowly, worry and anxiety leaving her with each breath. No pestering questions from Beast Boy, no explaining to Starfire that beating a dead horse didn't actually require "physical damage upon an expired equine," no worrying about Robin's mind. In, out.
"Azarath Metrion Zinthos. Azarath Metrion Zinthos." The words spilled gently from Raven's lips in her monotone. Her body became weightless, her vision went from black to a vast expanse of stars. Paths and bridges sprawled across the endless night. Ethereal ravens crossed her line of vision. She was where she felt safest. She was inside her mind.

She strolled along the pathways, looking for signs of her emotional selves, but finding none. This wasn't particularly troublesome. She had maintained her composure as of late, and they were all behaving themselves-just the way Raven liked it. She took a seat upon one of the higher bridges, gazing out at the expanse of her own calm mind.
A soft breeze brushed past her face, causing a small wrinkle to crease her forehead. "That's... unusual," she said, her lips unmoving. Suddenly, a dark figure appeared on one of the paths in her field of vision. It was tall and still, but seemed to struggle to keep its form. The more she focused on it, the more substantial it became. The figure started to turn to her, and a rush of air filled her lungs. Someone was with her, in her mind. Panic flooded her, washing her back to reality on its current. Her eyes shot open and darted around for the intruder. She was back on the roof, alone.

Raven got to her feet slowly. She examined her surroundings, searching for whatever intruder disturbed her meditation. Finding nothing, she took a deep breath, calming herself. She closed her eyes and projected her soul-self outwards, trying to find some trace of another's presence. Nothing. Raven frowned to herself and scanned the rooftop one last time. "Maybe all this peace and quiet is getting to me," she sighed and made her way back inside the tower.
Raven stepped quietly, hoping to creep past the living room unnoticed. No such luck. Beast Boy bounced in front of her, excitedly waving the cover of a DVD in her face.
"Raven! We're gonna watch Alien Zombies Att...mmmhmhmmmrmmm!"
Raven's hand was now in his face, covering his mouth as he continued to babble. "Not interested."
She didn't give him a second glance as she continued to her room. Beast Boy's ears fell, but only for a moment. He had learned long ago not to take her standoffishness personally, and he quickly forgot her rejection. The light in the living room went out behind her as her teammates lost themselves in the movie.

Raven entered her room, eyeing it suspiciously. Nothing. Her shoulders fell as she removed her cloak and hung it on a nearby chair. She flopped down onto her bed, the mattress barely recognizing her weight. She crossed her arms over her chest, annoyed at having her meditation disrupted-annoyed that she didn't know what caused it.
"Maybe I'm doing it to myself," she thought. "Maybe I'm so used to struggle that I don't know what to do without it." She turned the thought over in her mind, finding it oddly calming. With a stretch and a yawn, she pulled a book out from under her pillow and sprawled out across her bed. No sooner than she opened it, the words began to blur together as sleep-and a dream-took her.