Her question?

Even after everything she'd done, she didn't, on some level, really think she'd be able to summon angels – or summon herself to an angel – and get away with it. She'd dared to yell at one? And Belathaphel had called back, neatly returning her energy, and stood there, not angry, just understanding, ready to answer her. He was treating her like a human being, and not like a –

Raven half-turned, not wanting the angel to see her eyes. As she struggled with with what she wanted to say, she was shocked to hear Beast Boy ask in a very small voice, "Mr. Belathaphel? I'm Beast Boy, and this is Raven, and we're from the Teen Titans. We –"

"Beast Boy!" Raven hissed. "You're talking to an angel who's been a messenger to humankind for thousands of years. He knows who we are!"

"That is true," Belathaphel said. "I know who you are. I know about your fight with the demon Trigon. I believe I know why you are here. But -" he inclined his head to Beast Boy, "Your courtesy does you credit. Ask your question."

"Um. Okay. It's not really my question. But I was there. I mean, in the fight. And it's a good question. And if it makes you mad, then, um, it is my question. We want to know – I mean I want to know –" Beast Boy squared his shoulders and glanced at Raven – "I want to know, when we fought Trigon. Where were the angels?"

"Your question?" Belathaphel asked mildly. "Yours alone?"

Ashamed and more touched than she wanted to admit by Beast Boy's bravery, Raven burst out, "Of course not. You know whose question it is – it's mine. I fulfilled the prophecy and destroyed the world. We almost died. Millions of people suffered. Where were you?" She raised her head and glared at the angel, no longer caring that her eyes were glowing red. "Where were you? Azarath was destroyed. My mother is dead. In the name of Azar, WHERE WERE YOU?"

The last words came out as a scream that silenced even the half-heard whispers around her. The mists settled around them. Heaven went silent. Raven could hear nothing but the scrape of Beast Boy's boots as he shuffled his feet, not sure if he'd be running or fighting in the next few seconds.

Belathaphel looked at the both for a long time.

"All thinking beings, except the Ultimate Good and the Ultimate Evil, have within themselves their own demise," he began. "Those who are evil may choose to do good, as those who are good may choose to bend to temptation. Until the very last breath we may all change our nature."

Terra, thought Beast Boy, with a sharp pain. Belathaphel nodded to him, and continued, "If we could not do this, we would not truly be alive. What we did would make no difference, because we would not do it out of free will. Angels mourn wickedness, and demons hate goodness, but we all recognize the choice that is made."

Belathaphel bent and carefully placed his sword on the ground, putting his helmet beside it. "Trigon had the potential for good and passed it to his daughter. Though her parentage Raven has a small capacity for good and an essential nature of evil."

"Raven is not-" Beast Boy began hotly, but stopped when Belathaphel raised his hand.

"Raven chose the good," the angel said, "and acted against the nature of her father. Raven made that choice over and over again. Even when it was difficult, even when it was overwhelming, even when it meant going to what she believed was her death, Raven choose to turn away from her parentage."

Raven said nothing. Of course I did, she thought. There was nothing else I could do.

"Yes there was," Belathaphel said, answering her thoughts. "You could have embraced that darkness. You could have decided that evil was an easier choice – and it would have been, for a while. You would not have had to worry about losing control, or hurting people – had you accepted your father's nature, you would not have cared. Had you taken that path the world would be much different today and -" Belathaphel smiled – "you would not be welcome in heaven."

"I know she did all that, and I know it wasn't easy, so dude, why didn't you guys help?"

Raven wanted to shush Beast Boy, to warn him, but she could barely move. To hear someone talking so casually about her parentage, the evil she couldn't be rid of – she felt paralyzed by humiliation, by a crushing sense of guilt.

"Because she had to keep making that choice," Belathaphel explained, "all the way to the end of her battle with her father. Had we intervened she would not have been able to decide. Without the moral decision she would not have been able to destroy Trigon. Had we interfered the war could not have truly ended."

Raven found her voice. "So you let us all suffer. So you let my father hurt those people – you let me be the cause –"

Belathaphel took her hand. "We let you act as thinking beings. We could do nothing else. But Raven, that fight is over and I can help you now. Please, look at me."

Raven looked up and into the angel's clear gray eyes. He said softly, "You were your father's pawn, but you were never his puppet. None of the responsibility was yours." Belathaphel's voice got softer and lower, until she was almost feeling his words against her skin, in her bones. "Raven, in the name of heaven, with the voice of all the angels I tell you this: it was not your fault."

She gasped and sank to her knees, the words hitting her like physical blows. Belathaphel remained standing, holding her hand, and she thought distantly that even when an angel was kind, he could be terrible in the old sense of the word, terrifying and distant. "It was not your fault," he repeated. "We could not help you destroy your father but we can help free you from this. Raven, be healed."

An ache started in Raven's chest, her throat closed, and she blinked against a sudden surge of tears. This is healing?

She opened her eyes to see Belathaphel kneeling before her, and heard his words in her head. Yes. This is grief. It will lead to healing. You cannot hurt me or your friend, and your powers will do no damage to heaven. Let go. Be healed.

So Raven cried.

She cried for her mother and Azarath. She cried for her friends and all that she had put them through – that was not her fault, Belathaphel's voice reminded her. She cried for Trigon, for the choices he had made or not made, and what she had had to do. And in a small way, she cried for the burden she was laying aside and the guilt she was giving up, knowing her life would be different now, that she could make choices outside her father's shadow.

And through it all Raven was vaguely aware of Beast Boy beside her, his arm around her shoulders, patting her awkwardly and saying over and over, "Of course it's not your fault! Dude, nobody ever thought it was your fault..."

At long last – hours later? Minutes later? Days later? – the tears stopped. With a weariness she had never felt before, Raven let Beast Boy help her to her feet. Though eyes swollen almost shut she looked at Belathaphel. He looked back, then smiled and said simply, "You are welcome here. But the question has been answered and I will send you back to the mortal world."

Exhausted, Raven could only nod. Beast Boy said soberly, "Thank you, Mr. Belathaphel."

Belathaphel unfurled his gray wings and stirred the mists of heaven, until Raven and Beast Boy were standing in a blur of silver that spun around them faster and faster and faster …

…. until they were standing in Raven's room, white sand scattered all over the floor, books everywhere, and the door open. Cyborg, Starfire, and Robin were standing in the doorway, staring at them.

TtTtTtTtTt

Beast Boy helped Raven walk to her bed and sit down. "I'll be right back," he said quietly. Then he turned to the other Titans. "C'mon, guys, leave her alone."

Raven heard the rumble of Cyborg asking a question and Beast Boy replying, "You will totally not believe me, but I'll tell you anyway. I promise. But it'll have to wait 'til later."

Robin asked, "Raven...?"

"'S'okay," she mumbled, "What he says."

She heard the door close as they left, and a few minutes later it slid open again. Beast Boy handed her a cold washcloth and some tissues. "Trade for your cloak." As Raven blew her nose and washed her face, he hung up her cloak and wandered around the room, stacking up the scattered books and trying to make some kind of order.

After a while he came back and sat on the floor by the bed. "I don't know where the books go."

"I'll get them tomorrow." At the moment even moving the books back on the shelves seemed impossible. Raven pressed the cool cloth against her eyes, trying to remember what Belathaphel had said, trying to remember exactly how it sounded … "Beast Boy," she said suddenly, her voice muffled by the washcloth, "You heard what he said?"

Beast Boy grimaced. "How could I miss it? He sounded like a hundred English teachers. Here, take your shoes off. You don't want to wake up in the morning with your feet all gross."

Raven toed off her shoes and lay down, pulling the blanket over one shoulder. "Maybe he didn't say it."

Beast Boy was still sitting on the floor so when he turned to stare at her she could just see his eyes over the edge of the bed. "Dude. I was there. He said it wasn't your fault. He said it for all of heaven." He grinned. "Sucks for Super Alone Girl to have a bunch of angels on her side, but that's the way it is."

Raven was silent.

Beast Boy looked at the sigil on the floor, then at the books scattered about. "Raven … I believe Belathaphel. I never thought it was your fault. And I'll always remember. And if you ever stop believing what he said – just ask me. I'll tell you a hundred times a day if you want. It really wasn't your fault. You choose good and you never stopped, even when it was awful."

It's hard to be scared when you're really, really sleepy, but Raven felt a heavy dread. "I want – what he said – I really want it to be true. But I'm so afraid it's not."

She felt a tugging on the blanket. Beast Boy had grabbed a corner of it. He pulled on it and announced, "It's not your fault!" He tugged it again. "Not your fault!" And again. "It's still not your fault..."

Raven reached over to take the blanket away from him and found herself taking his hand, sleep almost overwhelming her. "Not my fault."

"Nope," he said, smiling and blushing at the same time. "Not your fault."

"Just stay here a minute," Raven said through a yawn. "Just for a few minutes, until it's true..." her voice trailed off, and after a few minutes she sighed, and relaxed against the pillow.

Beast Boy stayed there all night, sitting on the floor by the bed, holding her hand.