Disclaimer; under no circumstances do I own Teen Titans or any related paraphernalia (Yay! I spell- wait, no I didn't, dang), except the plot of this story.

She was a black-tailed comet in an ink-black sky. She flew with a grace born of years of practice and a natural talent, and she closes green eyes to –screams and shouts, chaos she cannot fix— and her eyes snap open, and tries to forget everything but the wind –reeking of blood and carnage— in her hair, the salt –in her mouth from the tears she shed at the funerals— from the ocean.

Once she had known nothing of her parents past, her talents, and sometimes she wished she still didn't. But Mar'i Grayson did know, and did find out. She was seventeen, and she felt old, too old, for a teen entering what was supposed to be the best years of her young life. She shouldn't have to deal with this! –funerals and cemeteries and bloody burned bodies she hardy recognizes- But now, it's all she has as

-she twists, trying to remember weak points and escape routes, but all knowledge flees when a vicious kick hits her head—

Mar'i turns in the night air, all of the city, well most of it in any case, peacefully slumbering on. A tear falls from her eye, but is whipped away immediately by the g-force wind. A quick glance down makes her wince, the tower, once a second home, is now mere twisted and blackened metal. For a moment a fear she cannot name washes over her, and she pushes it down ruthlessly. SHe had been taught to control herself early on. She sees a raven

-as Charta vanishes in darkness, only to re-appear in front of her brother, she doesn't stand a chance, and she falls—

Lower into the city, and tries to turn a blind eye to it, failing even that –like how she failed her team in their darkest hour-. Nothing is the same, it never will be. The super-villains and their cronies might be gone, but it has only made the rise in small-time crime triple. The young heroes don't care, too many are too young to really know much else, and it has been almost ten years. They were able to go on for a while, based on mentors and older heroes. Her parents were her mentors, and

-all she wants, for them to swoop in and help them, save them, but, oh X'hal! Drystan is on the ground, bleeding, and Averal, is trying to defend his best friend, but it's useless—

Turning, she swoops into an alley, disturbing both alley cats and a mugging, not that she cares, really. She stumbles over some trash, and suddenly wonders what her mother would think if she could see her only daughter now. She had always been close to her mother, the supermodel, the princess, and at this moment she she would give anything to smell

-the scent of cookies baking, sweet laughter and bright green eyes and the warmth of a mother never too busy to listen to her daughter's problems—

The girl, suddenly turned bitter in sweet memory, laughs, and she ignores the new tears in her costume, the tangles in her once shiny raven hair. Her mother is dead, unable to be saved, even by a billionaire. Things were ok, though, she saved people with her team, kept morale up, then Magog came. He started the chaos.

It makes the dark-haired child, for that is waht she is, a child, think of her dark-haired father. The father who was forever busy, but who always managed -to be on the opposite side- to come when danger called. He, as Red Robin and Richard Grayson, taught her to move on and forge ahead. Her

-sleek raven hair, a mask to cover a face, the daughter, who wanted nothing more than to be a daddy's girl, goes through the night, alone, to protect the city, but Mar'i smiles, she will never stop protecting—

This city, once prosperous, and easy to want to save, is merely a shell. In this new world, there isn't much to save. With all the villains gone the super-teens turned on one another, and Mar'i joined them, lashing out at anyone and anything, battling until there was nothing left. Kansas showed that, Completly eradicated. Just because Magog's 'Justice Batallion', is that a joke, went too far in a fight. And the half-Tamerean girl blocks images in her mind of her only teams last battle. She remembers bubbly

-Felicia, as she twists and turns, desperately trying to slow the blood pouring from her brother's head, screams when a villain manages to hit her while she's distracted—

And belatedly notices how people flinch as she walks by, tall and strong, for all her costume is tattered. She recalls how the people used to love her family, her team. It no longer matters; she thinks of the rumors that Superman is going to come out of 'retirement', which, according to Gramps, is nothing more than Superman having lost all faith in the people. She couldn't blame him, she'd give up on this place too. Mentally jotting it down to tell to Gramps, she smiles as she recalls the dark and broody

-sky that day, and she calls it fitting, four coffins lay side-by-side, banners and flowers and mourners lament the loss (but loss implies she can find them again, she will never get them back) of their super-team, all dead but one—

Member, now walking alone, silent as the grave. The smile falls. She walks on, into the dark night. The girl, more woman than girl, more crone than maiden, stops, turns around.

The glint of dawn hovers on the horizon.

And she forges ahead.

A/N: Uh, this is my first fanfiction, and I would appreciate any helpful thoughts on it, or ways to do better. If there are any glaring mistakes, please say –er, type- so, I won't mind changing it and re-posting. I hope you liked it!

Also, Mar'i's team is totally made up, by myself and my over-active imagination, and Mar'i's history is what I have gleaned from wikipedia and , it's not much, lemme tell you. I hope to read the comics SOME day, preferably before I'm old and decript.

Thanks for reading! And please review if you have time.

~AK