Malchior had never been more correct when he thought Raven would kill him in the morning. In fact, had she needed his help, she may have done worse. Still, it was funny.

Raven opened her eyes slowly, wondering anxiously why she was where she was. She had fallen asleep by the window, so please, Azar, why was she on the floor now? She turned her head slightly to observe the gentle rise and fall of Malchior's chest.

Click.

I'm going to kill that dragon, Raven thought fiercely, trying and failing to remove herself from his grip. A low growl escaped her; it was way too early for this.

"Hey, dragon boy-" She shook him roughly for good measure, "do you mind?"

"Mind what, sweet Raven?"

Azar, the urge to kill him was really hard to fight down!

"Let. Go. Now."

Malchior chuckled softly, "Well you're no fun."

"I'm plenty of fun," Raven snapped, "Just not when I'm trying to save the world from armageddon!"

Reluctantly, the dragon turned man released her, "Oh, lighten up. It's not like it's the end of the... Okay, so it is the end of the world, but that doesn't mean you have to sleep on a rock by the window."

"You're too kind," Raven deadpanned, glaring daggers at him.

"I know. It's that and my irresistible sexy- ow!"

Raven raised her hand again, preparing to slap him a second time, "You don't want to finish that statement. Despite popular belief, I'm actually not a morning person."

Malchior shrugged then stretched, turning his head lazily to look her over, "Your hair's all messy," he stated quietly, reaching up to fix it.

Raven slapped him faster than he would've believed for her supposedly not being a morning person.

"Ouch!" Malchior whined, "I was just trying to help."

"You want to help," Raven hissed at him, "Then don't piss me off! I don't need any more stress, okay? I'm trying to single handedly save the world, and all I have for help is a perverted dragon that's been stuck in a book for who knows how long."

Malchior grumbled something, but stood all the same, "Well, then..."

Raven glowered at him and glided over to the window. Why her? She propped her head up on her hands, a distracted sigh escaping from her. The portal seemed to have moved closer. She needed a plan... Fast too.

Malchior stood up and made to follow her to the window, then wobbled and toppled over.

"Ouch."

Raven slumped against the stony sill, head in her hands. She needed to think, and having a perverse idiot stumbling quite literally around did nothing to help her. She crossed her legs beneath her and closed her eyes, chanting her mantra. Malchior managed to pull himself up and began pacing, getting used to the adjusted center of gravity. When he felt more comfortable on two legs, he made his way over to Raven and sat quietly at her side, also thinking. He may have a tendency for being obnoxious, but he knew when it was time to think seriously, too. Granted, he wasn't entirely sure what he was up against, or how much use he'd be to Raven and her friends. Speaking of which... If they weren't here, it would definitely explain why the young half-demon was so edgy. He supposed he would have been too, in her position... If he'd had friends, that is. He sighed dismally, running a gloved hand through his ebony hair. The dragon vaguely wondered what Raven was planning. How could one fight fire with fire, and not have it blow up in your face?

Raven went over the dream that had started this mess. It hadn't made a lick of sense in the first place, and now that it was happening, it STILL didn't make sense. everything was happening as she remembered it in the dream... That wasn't much, but Trigon was coming and her friends were in a coma. But she wasn't in a cage. She wasn't trapped. And she wasn't alone. The dream had been planted. Her eyes snapped open, "Of course..."

"Beg pardon?" Malchior mumbled, rubbing his face drearily.

Raven ignored him, mentally double-checking her conclusion. It all fit. Trigon must have planted the dream in her head, knowing full well that she'd seek her mother's help in Azarath. He also knew about the titans, and how they had beaten him the last time. She doubted her vindictive father wouldn't forget that very easily. The only thing unexplained was the cage. Raven had her suspicions, most popular being that he would wish to instill in her a feeling of utter hopelessness. He obviously hadn't counted on her pulling a helper from a book. Or maybe he hadn't expected her to act so quickly in returning from Azarath. Maybe he hadn't intended for her to return until he had descended. He could catch her then, and she would be at his mercy to observe whatever fate he had in mind for her friends... That... Definitely sounded like Trigon.

A soft tug at the hem of her cloak pulled her from her reverie. Raven glared down at Malchior, who, instead of shooting off some witty comment, looked back evenly.

"If I'm going to help you, Raven, I'd like to know what we're going up against."

Raven tilted her head to the side, only barely comprehending what he'd said. Dazedly, she told him everything she knew of her father's existence, and recounted the events of her sixteenth birthday.

Malchior, shockingly, was attentively silent, nodding at times, his lucid green eyes thoughtful.

"There is a spell," he said at length, "but it will take time. How much of that do we have?"

"A week at most," Raven answered, glancing sideways at the portal.

"We'll have to work hard then," Malchior muttered, "Neither of us is ready to perform that sort of magic, and the spell itself will take at least a day to construct."

Raven felt her eye twitch. A DAY of preparation? What kind of spell was this? And what did he mean 'neither of them were ready?' He was a dragon!

She voiced this concern immediately.

Malchior merely sighed in response, "Yes, I'm a dragon. But, Raven, I've been locked up in a book for I don't even remember how long," he said emphatically, "There's not exactly that much need for that sort of power."

"And what if you got out?"

"To be honest, I'd given up on all possibility of that happening, after you and your friends defeated me."

Raven turned her head from him, gazing out over the river of lava that had replaced the cool water of her home. If Malchior had a plan, she had no choice than to go with it. She didn't have one, anyway.

"Okay. Alright. I'm in," Raven nodded, looking sideways at the dragon, "Teach what you need to teach."

"And re-learn what must be relearned," Malchior agreed, "We'll start this afternoon. I need to remember what spells are most relevant... You've probably learned most of them... From the last time, you know..."

Raven nodded mutely, how many times would her past haunt her this way?

Okay, yeah. Sorry about the wait. Between school, college apps, and a bipolar word processor, this took way longer than I'd expected. No, I didn't abandon it, and yes, updates will be more frequent now that my computer likes me again. Reviews always loved.