AN: *a la Mushu* I LIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Hello, hello, everyone, how are you? It's been just forever, hasn't it? And so much has happened, too! I went to Disney World, got lost in Disney World, graduated high school with a decent GPA, and maybe even grew as a person!

But who cares about that? I have fanfiction to give you!

Now, I loved Teen Titans when it was on, and I love time travel stories, and so, I thought, why not? I realize that this has been done before, but I still hope that people will like it and read it regardless. I have high hopes for this story, and I hope that I'll be able to see it through to the end. Baring that in mind, I don't want this to be a happy story. This is going to hurt. A lot, as a matter of fact. All aboard the feels train. :D

Prologue

'You can do this. You can.' The boy thought to himself for the nth time. He crouched, hidden in the shadows of a crumbling apartment building, he ran a lightly trembling hand through his long hair, before peeking around the corner, 'You definitely can.'

The street was completely empty, as per the usual. The city patrol wasn't due for quite a while and he would hopefully be gone and back long before it came around. The mission had been planned out to the furthest degree, the specifics of it drilled into his mind so deeply that it was likely he'd never forget. He was still nervous. It wasn't often that he would make the journey up to the surface, or anyone else, for that matter.

But that was mostly because of the Ash.

The Ash had caused more deaths than the invasion had. He'd often heard stories about when the air was safe to breathe, but they were long before his time. Before the sky had been turned a never ending black and poison rained down on their heads. The only reason that he wasn't choking on his own lungs was because of the rebreather. It was a close friend of his father's who had developed them, he remembered, and had tampered around with prototypes for a good few years now – but with as little material as he could salvage, because everything was could be sold to the Scavengers for a steady supply of food was precious, they were still clunky things: nothing but molded scrap metal and a strip of old fabric to keep it in place, with a filtration system needed wiping out every half hour or so. It didn't do as much as he'd like, the man had told him, but it was functional.

It was better than dying.

Reaching back, he tightened the knot of his rebreather and, with a steadying breath, got to his feet. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and started across, his childish excitement tempered by anxiety long into him. Out of the shadows, he wasn't safe. He was more than exposed, he was an available target. His shoulders hunched together, as if he thought that would make him less open, and walked a little faster, feeling as though millions of eyes were staring down at him and taking aim.

Reaching the other side of the street was an incredible relief to him. Ducking into the alleyway there, he leaned heavily against the brick, his body visibly sagging in relief to be back under cover.

Leaning his head back, he focused on the stormy sky, and sighed a little. He could remember a time when the sky hadn't been this smoky, deathly gray — had seen it himself, when he was younger. The sky had been as clear a blue as anything and fantastically beautiful and the want in him to see the sight again was almost like a physical ache in the pit of his stomach.

The boy's eyes wandered to the bag that sat at his side. It wasn't a spectacular thing, improvised with strange purple cloth and old wire. He took it into his lap, untying the knot that kept it closed. Inside was a thin, circular device, small and rusting around the knobs, silver coloring chipped and missing. Every now and again, it gave off a small, pitiful whirling sound that was just loud enough to put him on edge. It had been set before he left, he remembered, so that all he had to do was press a button when the time came. A small smile stretched across his face when he noticed that someone had even ensured that he wouldn't forget which button to press by coloring it in - the bright pink seemed to cast a cheerful glow in the darkness.

'I won't mess up again.' He thought fiercely, and after he placed the device back in the bag and had it secured once more, he stood up and began walking again, his destination firm in his mind once more.

What had, years and years ago, been Jump City's most popular public park, now looked more like a war zone. There wasn't much left there that was still living, and the earth looked barren and scorched. Not the most conventional of drop zones, his father had said, but he'd be safe enough if he was in the hollow.

The only obstacle that lay between him and the park now was the tall chain link fence, which towered over him and was topped with barbed wire. He made quick work of the climb, only flinching a little when the sharp wire sliced deeply into his hands, but not making a sound. They would heal quickly enough and this was too important a mission to ruin over a couple of cuts.

With a final pull, he heaved himself over the fence, landing with a soft thud on his hands and knees. His chest felt heavier; he'd need to maintenance the rebreather after he got back. Would he have the time? If a patrol came early...

'No. No. Don't think like that. Nothing's gonna go wrong.'

He was so close.

It had been years, but he still remembered this place. The oak tree had once been tall and grand, planted a few years before his brother's birth, with a odd habit of flourishing long sometimes even into the winter months. He could remember that the oak had made a marvelous place to play when he was younger. It hurt to see that though years upon years of Ash had shriveled it to death, but the black, spindly branches still towered proudly above his head and everything else in the wasteland.

"At least you still have your dignity." He murmured quietly, running his hand gently along the decayed old bark, as if the slightest pressure could send it tumbling down. His lips quirked up into a small smile. He ignored his burning eyes.

God, he felt so much older than thirteen.

He exhaled slowly (the rebreather let out a wheezy, whistling noise), and he stood there for a moment, just remembering. He looked back up at the sky, and imagined it blue.

Then he reached inside of his bag. The device chirped weakly as he took it out and fastened it onto his belt. He looked around once more, as if to say goodbye.

He pressed the pink button.

'I won't mess up again. I promise.'

The world vanished in a flash of white light.

AN: Did you like it? I liked it. :D Please, drop a review if you wanna be awesome - positive or negative, I accept just about anything. Thank you for reading~!