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Disclaimer: I make no claims to Teen Titans.

Tantrum

Raven spent the rest of the evening in the bedroom provided for her. Once she'd dressed in some of the clothing of the mortal realm (that was perfectly her size; a fact not lost on her), she half-heartedly began to poke at the oddities in the room. Shelves upon shelves of books spanned two walls, with barely enough room for a desk. She found a photograph in a broken frame of a tall, lovely woman. She had almond-shaped eyes, vibrantly violet hair, and a kind smile. Raven furrowed her brow and ran her fingers across the photo, then picked up a nearby mirror and looked at herself in it. The similarities were impossible to miss.

In her hearts of hearts, she knew that the story her Father had told her about her mother being some far-off, vengeful, wildly beautiful demoness had been a lie. She just hadn't had the proof until this very minute. She touched the photo again. This woman was not vengeful. It was not in her eyes.

The real question now was how such a photograph came to be in this room in the first place.

Fueled by this unexpected treasure, Raven began to search the room more diligently. She flipped through the various tomes with renewed interest, finding all sorts of information on various things; dimensional travel, magic, meditation. Things that sang to her soul for reasons she couldn't put a finger on. Experimentally, she held out a hand and concentrated.

With an effortlessness that thrilled and scared her, she made the photograph rise from the table and sail across the room to settle on the palm of her hand. She sent the small thing back and forth before moving other things around.

The power pleased her. She let out a delighted laugh as she made her pillows walk across her bed, amusing herself, when suddenly, they shattered into a frenzy of soft feathers. She pulled her hand back quickly, and realized that many things in her mind were clamoring for attention, threatening to overwhelm her. Hastily, she closed her eyes and took a few breaths, stilling her emotions.

"So the key to this fascinating new trick is calm. Control," she muttered to herself, then sighed. She was a demoness, for Hell's sake! They were built to express themselves as violently as possible.

And yet, it seems that you are not full demoness, she reminded herself, glancing at the photo on the desk. There were many breeds of life that did not come to her Hell dimension, so it did not surprise her that she did not know the race of her mother. She turned and looked back at the shelves and shelves of books.

Perhaps they would tell her what she wished to know.

With a determined nod, she pulled down several tomes and began to glance through them. There were many that spoke of various magical powers, but few spoke of her ability to "taste" the air for various feelings and emotions and her dark, empathic energy. With a few picture references in some of the books, she was able to deduce that she was probably part Azarian.

"Pacifists?" she spat out in disgust. "They're all pacifists? That will NOT do." She was certainly no pacifist. If she wanted something, she took it, and that was the end of that.

However, just because she didn't like it didn't mean she didn't still have to deal with it. She may not have felt very Azarian, to be sure, but she still had their power, and she still had to control it. She could seriously destroy something with the vast power inside of her, and while she didn't necessarily mind destruction, she did mind when it turned its blind eyes to things important to her. So once again, she turned to the books.

She spent the next several hours testing out different methods of meditation until she found a style that she felt comfortable with. The silence was deafening, so she started to mutter old demonic proverbs under her breath. However, they tended to incite a host of powerful emotions that proved counterproductive, so she tried for some peaceful words in a demonic tongue.

Peaceful and demonic didn't go together, it seemed.

Eventually, she turned back to the tomes about the Azarians, and simply decided to use "Azarath" as a focus word.

She drew herself into a deep calm that she hadn't thought existed within her, and remained as such until morning.

Birds and sunlight eventually drew Raven from her peaceful reverie with the gentleness of a sea breeze. She had never known such calm existed. Well, she had known it must be possible somewhere, of course, but she'd never imagined herself experiencing it. She had always thought such things beneath her. But now, she wasn't so sure.

She glanced towards the door of the room just as her stomach gave a loud, hungry grumble. She sighed; she would have to face them sometime.

Grudgingly getting to her feet, she went to the closet and fished out one of the many dark blue cloaks that hung within. It settled about her shoulders, and she drew the hood up so her face was bathed in shadow. It functioned like a barrier against those outside this little haven she'd been given, albeit rather flimsy. She felt confident she could defend herself if they attacked, but something told her that they would do no such thing. Hopefully, however, they would be able to answer her questions, for she had many. Namely, the photo, but she was sure there would be others.

She swept out of the room with all of her Princess-y attitude, but promptly lost it when she realized she was lost. She reached out with her power, sending it to explore, and found life somewhere in the vast tower. She went towards it like a moth to flame, tasting tension in the air.

The four in the living space were stretched as thin as a wire. The moment she walked in, everything became even more strained. Starfire was perched stiffly on a countertop, muscles rippling in her arms as they shook. Beast Boy poorly tried to ignore her, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied the countertop at the island. Cyborg was pacing, but stopped and looked openly at her as she walked in, examining her guardedly. Robin leaned against the back of the couch, his toe tapping. Only he made an effort to greet her.

"Good morning, Raven," he said, his voice falsely bright. "Did you sleep well?" She glanced at him, then awkwardly crossed her arms.

"I've…discovered many things over the course of the night. I wish to ask some questions," she explained delicately. "The first of which is this photograph." She held up the picture. Starfire practically exploded off the counter to swoop in close, hovering several inches off the ground to examine the photo. Raven realized that the red-head simply wished to be closer to her, and had taken the photo as an excuse.

"Why, this is your mother, of course," Starfire said with calculated calm.

"Indeed. But why is it here, in this plane?"

"Because this is your home," she answered, her expectant, green eyes boring into her own. Raven furrowed her brow and took a step back.

"That is impossible," she responded sharply. Robin walked up to the two of them and put a hand on Starfire's shoulder. Starfire looked back at him, and he raised an eyebrow pointedly. She threw her hands in the air.

"Oh, very well! But I cannot be expected not to speak!" she cried, exasperated. Robin's hand moved to take one of hers, and he kissed her fingers, pulling her away from Raven. There was a low discussion with barely suppressed frustration on Starfire's part, but eventually, the woman ran an agitated hand through her hair and promptly soared out an open window and across the lake beyond.

"Where's she going?" Beast Boy demanded.

"She's going to Titan's East," Robin replied with a shrug. "It's too much for her, I think."

"Cop-out," the green man muttered, propping a chin on his hand. Robin gave Beast Boy a cursory glare before beckoning to Raven. She went to him reluctantly, and followed him to sit gingerly on the couch.

"We didn't really know how to talk to you about this without freaking you out, so…we did this, instead," he explained awkwardly. Cyborg picked up a small remote and clicked a button towards the massive screen, which flickered to life.

Soft music began to come from the surround speakers, and pictures began to fade in and out of the screen; pictures of HER. Raven watched with growing disbelief at the overwhelming display. There were newspaper clippings of their group, the Titans, standing triumphantly over felled villains, formal pictures taken by professional photographers, goofy snapshots clearly taken by other members of the team, and even fan art from normal citizens around the world. Eventually, she grew numb as they flashed by, proof of something she never remembered once experiencing.

"Turn it off," she said. Cyborg glanced uncertainly at Robin, which infuriated Raven. She surged to her feet. "I said, turn it off!" Hastily, the man clicked another button, and the screen went dark. She rounded on Robin.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded fiercely. She heard a low groan as something large and mechanical threatened to throw screws.

"I know it's a lot to take in, but—"

"Who is the woman?" she shouted.

"It's you. You were one of us, Raven. Our friend."

Raven stared at him for a moment, working her mouth in disbelief, before scoffing incredulously.

"That's simply not possible," she denied. "That woman is not me! I'm no…no fighter of evil! I am the Princess of a prominent Hell dimension!"

"Raven…" Cyborg said warningly, glancing towards the kitchen as chairs began to float.

"No! No, this is…lies!" she shrieked, and all five bar stools splintered into tiny fragments.

"Man, it took me weeks to make those…" Cyborg muttered. Robin held out his hands quickly, but Raven skipped away from him.

"I am no friend to mortals," she hissed. "You people fear me! Worship me in an effort to appease me! I am your darkest nightmares!"

"We love you, Raven," Robin explained, but Raven shook her head violently.

"No, you do not! It will not be so!"

With that, she rose off the floor and swooped out the open window, flying towards the city as fast as she could. She'd show them. She'd show them she was no sweet thing like Starfire. She was a goddess, and deserved respect! Clearly, these people had forgotten that. She frowned, then let out a terrible battle cry as she soared past the city limits, murder on her mind and destruction in her heart.

She would simply have to remind them.

Robin shared a glance with the other two men.

"That went…well."