Disclaimer: I own nothing. Teen Titans belongs to DC (although this is the cartoon version of things) and BtVS/Angel belongs to Joss Whedon.
Warnings/Spoilers: Post-Birthmark for Teen Titans and Post-Series for both Buffy and Angel
A/N: This is a Challenge fic (7886: Raven gets some help) for the lovely SongBirdie whom I have always loved talking to (and writing for) in the past. I am writing form memory (and wiki recaps of things) so I apologize if I have a few things a bit off.) Hope you like it!
A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.


chapter two: headlong flight

She is beginning to tire; the searching began a few weeks ago now - but this all started a few months before that it seems with those dreams.

To truly trace it back, Raven knows that you would have to go all the way in time to a young Angela Roth who got caught up with some occultist, not truly knowing how real their ceremonies were. Not knowing rebelling against her parents would spiral into going to a demon summoning that actually called upon a real being.

A demon to which she was sacrificed – bound to and offered up. Not her life but her body. A horror that kept going when she realized she was pregnant with the spawn of that being.

Angela had tried to kill herself then but the monks of Azarath had found her; brought her to their temple between dimensions for protection and healing.

And although Raven has often angsted over the years, over the very fact that she was even born (especially after she became cognizant of the Prophesy), she never blamed her Mother for it. The former Angela, now dubbed Arella, did enough self-flagellation for the both of them.

In truth, it actually made her rather protective of the woman in a way. Which was one of the reasons she was quick to come when the missive had arrived.

"Your letter indicated it was urgent," Raven said once they were both seated at the small table in Arella's simple room for tea. Neither had hugged or exchanged tearful greeting even though it had been years since they had seen each other in person. Their relationship had always been skewed though, neither expressed much emotion, - and, in order to control her powers, Raven had been brought up more by the monks then by her Mother. And although she would always love her, she had never felt particularly close to the woman with whom she shared such similar looks.

The elder purple haired woman set down her own tea. "It has started – has it not? On your birthday?"

Raven's hands tensed remembering: her friends being bashed around so badly that she had to stop time to save them, Slade chasing her (fleeing fleeing fleeing – never any real chance to fight – and not able to get away), the helpless feeling (shame and fear) when he ripped her cape and leotard from her body - that she always kept so carefully covered - and burning red birthing marks shinned through her skin, the horrible vision, then being tossed like a rag doll and falling (almost hoping to just crash upon the ground and die – ending this now) and being caught by Robin at the last minute.

"Yes," is all she says staring down into her tea, "it has started."

"There – there is – is a hope," Arella stutters uncharacteristically – and both what she is saying and her odd hesitance make Raven look up.

She smiles at her daughter in a slightly self-deprecating manner. "I am aware we have always viewed the Prophesy surrounding your birth as inevitable. I thought it was better that way – that it was always pointless to fight it, to have false hope. But," here she hesitates again before continues and Raven feels rapt, feels as if her entire existence is hinging on this point, "nearly all of Azarath has been dreaming - I have been dreaming," Arella admits.

"Tell me, Mother," she demands, fiercely, and the table is outlined in black but neither of them acknowledge it.

"There is a place – another dimension – that does not view prophesy in the same manner we have done. There is no inevitability – they fight the Fates. And," she looked positively dumfounded, "they have often won."

Raven simply breathed deeply for awhile taking this in (the table returning to it's usual color as her power retreated).

"Raven," Arella interrupted her after a few moments of quite. "The monks think you might be able to find this place. They think that if you ask, these people might help you - might save our Earth from Him."

And from there it was not an easy search – how could it possibly be? The only thing she had to go on was the dreams the other Azarathians showed her when they voluntarily shared minds. But a mental resonance of a place is not a road map and there are an infinite number of dimensions (new ones being created and destroyed every moment.)

It is a hope though - a flickering uneasy hope - where previously there was none. And so Raven flies through the darkness, opening herself up to the echoes, trying to find the right...

...was that? Was she just imagining it after all this time?

Resolutely Raven follows the lead though and the feeling becomes stronger. And then with a nod of her head she forms a portal - propelling herself from this empty space headlong into...

...a large library. There is a girl with long brown hair at a table covered with books who looks surprised at her entrance, moments before an alarm starts to blare. The room fills with people - mostly women she notes tiredly.

But it has been a long time since she last ate - and much longer since she slept - and although she wishes to make a good first impression upon this dimension, to plead her case, all Raven is able to say before she passes out is, "Help - please."

At least she was concise.