A/N: Well, here you go! We're getting very close to the end now. I really hope you enjoy!

Reviews are wonderful things that make me want to sit down and type!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans. How often am I going to have to say this?

Changer sat at her desk, exhaustion filling her. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open as she worked on another diagram. Another trap.

As she watched the Titans, and kept learning about them, her sense of alarm increased. It would not be as simple as she had planned. There were too many cool heads in that Tower to counteract the ones who acted first, thought later. Sure, she'd been whittling them down, but there were still so many.

She glanced at the list beside her. Robin, Raven, Jinx, Bumblebee, Bushido, Red Star, Aqualad, Jericho, the Herald. Several of these were crossed out, or had stars by them. A small smile made its way to her lips. She would manage.

The Titans were floundering. They couldn't track her down, and they had no idea of who she was or what she could do. She was picking them off, disabling them of leaders, friends, and powerful teammates all at once. The Titans East were in disarray without their leader. Kid Flash (who, if properly motivated, could be a game changer, due to his unpredictable nature) was now focused on one thing—saving Jinx. Argent would be distracted, and maybe even angry. If she lost her temper, it would be a simple thing for Changer to manipulate her to cause more destruction to the Titans than to Changer herself.

She looked at the time. It was late. Far too late. She put the finishing touch on one of her diagrams and stood up. "Nightmare, watch them," she commanded, gesturing to the Titans behind her. Unlike her, the Nightmare Child needed no sleep.

She walked into the small door that led to what might be called her bedroom, but she doubted it. All it contained was a bed and a bathroom. No marks of a home at all.

She walked into the bathroom and looked at the mirror above the sink. She glared at the image of herself. She was aging. Silver hair now streaked her brown. Wrinkles were starting to appear. No longer did she look even vaguely like a teenager, as she had not even a week ago. The fight with Bumblebee had cost her more than she thought.

On the bright side though, the Titans now probably wouldn't recognize her.

Although Changer was nowhere near as old as the Nightmare Child, she was still very old. A bit over three hundred, if one wanted to be precise.

It had been the panic of the Witch Hunts that had been the catalyst. Someone with serious magical ability had panicked, and believed that if all sources of dark magic were destroyed, those who practiced good magic or light magic or not-evil magic would be left in peace. So seven teenagers had been selected, and imbued with the power that would allow them to destroy the dark demons.

There had been seven of them. Changer was the youngest. And the strongest. It had been her who realized that they could drain the demons of their magic and channel it themselves. Use it to keep them young, heal their wounds, and increase their abilities. The others had followed suit, and they wandered all over, hunting down the dark creatures. Years passed, centuries even, and magic passed into the realm of make-believe. Non-dark magic practitioners went into hiding, and Changer and her friends hunted down the dark ones.

But after they had killed the last demon on Earth, back in the 1950s, there had been problems. Four of them wanted to stop, settle down, and die. But three of them, Changer included, had refused. There were other creatures that they could hunt, they argued. Dark witches, half demons, and others like them. There had been a fight. One of the four who wished to stop died, and Changer had noticed that they could drain the energy off of each other, just like the demons. The other three dissenters had not lasted long. And then the other three had turned on each other. Changer was the only one left standing in the end, after a week of fighting. But the energy that she had gained from them was dying out. She needed more, if she was to survive. And a child of Trigon ought to be enough to keep her alive for at least another century.

Robin felt Starfire snuggle closer to him, giggling as the cliché romance story unfolded before them. He and Starfire didn't get much time alone these days. People disappearing tended to cut down on romance time. Although that didn't seem to have been stopping a lot of Titans in the past few days. A night watching a movie together had seemed like a great idea.

He laughed at one of the jokes that the guy's best friend made as the movie started to draw to a close, while Starfire uttered a squeal as the couple started acting what Starfire would describe as "wonderfully adorable and containing much cuteness!"

The credits started rolling up the screen, the required pop song started, and Starfire turned towards him, her eyes shining as she beamed at him. "Was that not wonderful Robin?"

"It sure was, Star." He smiled at her. She had chosen the movie of course, but in truth he hadn't minded watching it.

Starfire sat up a bit, leaving the crook of his arm so they were at the same level. "Perhaps next time we can watch one of those Kung-Fu movies you like so much."

"Only if you want to," he said. She smiled at him, leaning forward in order to kiss him. His arms wrapped around her back as she tangled her hands in his hair. He felt extremely glad that they had opted to watch the movie in his room rather than in the Ops. Centre, like they had originally intended.

He felt her hands move to his mask after a little bit, and he let her. He ignored the part of him that was screaming about what Batman would say if he knew that he was going to show a teammate his identity. He also ignored the bit of him that responded with an image of what Batman would say if he could see Robin now.

He felt the layers of glue come undone as Starfire applied the smallest amount of her alien strength to his mask, allowing it to come undone slowly. It took patience to remove his mask. How long it took would depend on how long ago he had removed it last. Luckily he had been removing it while he was sleeping lately. Finally he felt it come off, allowing his full face to be seen by her.

Starfire pulled back, probably to get a better look at him. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that she was clutching the mask tightly.

"You look much younger without your mask," Starfire said, tilting her head to the left as she looked at him.

Robin laughed and took the mask out of her hands, placing it on his bedside table. "Don't worry, Star. I'm still the same age." He met her gaze, acutely aware that this was the first time he had met her gaze without either his mask or a pair of sunglasses getting in the way.

Starfire reached out and pressed her hand against his cheek. He raised his hand up to grab hers. "I like your eyes. They are… most pleasant." She whispered.

Robin kissed her hand. "Not as pleasant as yours."

Starfire giggled. "Jinx told me once—" She paused as she thought of her missing friend, but pushed on anyway. "—that Kid Flash allows her to call him by another name when he is without his mask—"

"Dick Grayson," he interrupted.

Starfire looked confused. "I thought it was Wally We—"

"No Star. My name. It's Dick Grayson."

"Oh." Starfire flushed. "That is a… a very nice name."

"Then you can call me it any time we're alone," he whispered, smiling at her.

Starfire smiled back as she leaned forward to kiss him again. "Very well. I love you… Dick Grayson."

"And I love you Starfire," he answered right before their lips met. It seemed to get easier each time he said it.

His feet hit concrete as he vaulted himself onto the roof. His masked eyes scanned the Jump City skyline, but saw nothing.

He hadn't believed it when he had heard that she was here. But whatever her reason, he was going to stop her. Before she could harm anyone else.

His eyes narrowed as he spotted a figure dashing across rooftops in the distance. He raised a set of binoculars to his eyes. It was her alright. The smile that crossed his face might have been described as predatory.

He took a running start at the next rooftop, landing nimbly on his feet as he took off after her. His gloved hands clutched his weapon tightly. Adrenaline and the familiar exhilaration of the hunt filled him as his feet made loud noises against the concrete. Silhouetted against the moon, he could easily see her form, retreating towards the harbor. He was gaining.

The next jump was a long one. He removed his eyes from her reluctantly as he leapt across the gap. He landed in a somersault, rolling up into battle position, just in case she had turned around to attack him. She almost certainly knew that he was following her by now. He hadn't been exactly subtle or quiet in his attempt to follow her. His eyes scanned the scene. She was nowhere in sight, which put his nerves on edge.

He got to his feet carefully but quickly. One could never be too careful when dealing with her. This whole thing could be a trap. He dismissed the idea quickly. She had no reason to know that he was here.

He started running again, leaping onto the next rooftop, watching for her. Maybe she had thought she could outrun him. His grin widened at the thought. She was fast, but she was not built for distance. He could outlast her easily. And then she would be taken down.

Or maybe not, he thought as he turned a corner to see that she was still nowhere in sight, and that there was a bomb at his feet, presumably dropped by her. He swiped at it with his feet, praying silently that no one would be hurt by the blast, and ducked behind a nearby chimney. The bright light and loud sound of the explosion surrounded him. His smile was long gone. Things were serious now.

He was just getting to his feet when he felt a knife pressed against his neck. "Well, well. The rumors are true. You are back in Jump," her voice hissed in his ear. He called himself twelve kinds of idiot for allowing her to sneak up on him. She could kill him now, and they both knew it.

"So are you, I see." He didn't move a muscle, not even to go for his weapon. One wrong movement from him and she would slit his throat without a problem. Knowing her, she'd do it while smiling. He bit his lip.

"Why is it that you always come after me alone? You never bring any of your friends along. Are you really that… protective of me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Cheshire," Speedy snarled.

"You're no fun," the masked assassin laughed.

"Why are you here? Who hired you?"

"Who says I'm not here for you?" she whispered, pressing her knife against his neck. "Old vendettas you know… unfinished business…" He wanted to swallow, but didn't allow himself to for fear of the sharp blade. A single movement on her part, and he'd be dead. He tried to reach his communicator without her noticing. A very difficult task, since the position that she was holding him meant that he was pressed right up against her.

"If you were really here for me, I'd be dead already," he managed, trying not to allow his nervousness show in his voice. Just because she wasn't here for him didn't mean that she wouldn't kill him just to prove she could.

He could almost hear the smirk in her voice. "Correct." He felt his knees go weak with release as the knife was removed. He didn't turn around, and felt her hands on his back, shoving him to the ground. He rotated his head, just in time to see her raise a hand to her masked mouth and back down. Blowing him a kiss. He scrambled to his feet, furious with himself for letting her get so close to killing him. The assassin knew exactly how to get under his skin.

"See you later, hero."

He took off after her, continuing the rooftop chase. His bow was now out, and he fired arrow after arrow. Exploding arrow, (she dodged), net arrow, (she avoided it), boxing glove arrow (she dodged), and then a gas arrow. The puffs of knock-out gas filled the air, and he charged forward, thinking he'd finally got her.

But when he reached the cloud, the air was already clearing, and Cheshire was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn it!" he grumbled. He glanced at his communicator and looked at the time. His heart sped up a bit. He had to get back to the Tower now.

He'd promised Jade he'd call, after all.

"I'm thinking of a person," Jinx said, looking up at the ceiling.

"Kid Flash," The Herald said, shifting a little.

"Wrong. One down."

"Do we know this person?" Hot Spot said, leaning against the tube he was in. His voice was a bit muffled, but they could understand him just fine.

"Yes. Two down."

"Okay, is this person a good guy or a bad guy?" the Herald asked.

"Bad guy. Very bad. That's three."

"Was this person in the Brotherhood of Evil?" Kilowatt asked, tugging on the chains that connected him to the wall more out of habit than anything else.

"That's a stupid question. Who wasn't in the Brotherhood of Evil?"

The two boys exchanged a glance. "That's true," The Herald conceded.

"Is it Doctor Light?" Bumblebee asked. The other former HIVE student had been shrunk down, had a collar like the one Control Freak had once used on her stuck on so she couldn't grow back, and, to add insult to injury, been stuck in a jar with a few air holes in it.

"Ding ding, we have a winner!" Jinx said, leaning her head back.

"And that's another one for Bumblebee!" The Herald said.

Hot Spot removed a pen from his pocket to make another mark on the tube he was in under a neat column labeled with Bee's name. "Jinx is still winning."

"Does anyone else think we should probably be a bit more miserable while we're captured? Just to keep up appearances, you know?" Kilowatt asked, wincing as the wires leading off him siphoned off a particularly large bit of electricity off of him.

"Why? It's either this or extreme boredom," Jinx said. "When I was at the HIVE, we were taught that if you want to keep someone captive a long time, you have to let them be entertained somehow, otherwise when it comes to a hostage swap or something, they're a bit funny in the head. And then, sometimes, the good guys don't even want them anymore."

Hot Spot looked at her skeptically. "You're kidding, right?"

Jinx just raised an eyebrow.

"Wasn't Nightmare supposed to watch us? Not that I'm complaining, mind you, that thing is absolutely terrifying, but honestly, it's a bit offensive that they think they can just leave us here, without supervision, and we won't escape or anything," the Herald said, looking for the fear monster but not finding it.

"Well, at least with Changer gone, we don't have to listen to her monologue about her back-story," Jinx said with a grin. "She would have failed Evil Speeches 101, wouldn't she Bee?"

"Completely. She can't monologue to save her life. Let alone do an exposition."

"And her motive rant was off. Completely focused on the wrong parts of the story."

"Absolutely. And she gave me a rant in the middle of a fight. That's really poor form."

"I'd say it was about a C-."

"C-? You're being nice. That's a flat out D."

"I cannot believe you two are discussing this," Hot Spot said, banging his head against the tube as gently as he could.

"Well, it's this or go insane. Which would you prefer?" Jinx said affably.

"I think you already have gone insane," The Herald informed Jinx innocently. "Ow!" She had kicked him.

"So what should we play now?" Jinx asked, looking at the others.

"I'd suggest Rock, Paper, Scissors, but Spotty and I are the only ones who can actually use our hands," drawled Bee, lying down in a position that looked considerably more comfortable than being propped up against a wall. The jar was surprisingly roomy.

"Oh, don't you start," muttered the pyrokenetic. "First Kid Flash, then Argent, and now you!"

"How about the Animal Game?" Kilowatt suggested.

"…the Nightmare Child does not count as an animal," Jinx informed him.

"Darn. Not much point then, is there?"

"We could sing until Changer yells at us again," The Herald said with an evil grin.

"That game is a lot of fun…" Jinx said thoughtfully.

"She's going to regret she ever captured us," Bee replied with a smirk.

"Alright then! Who's up for Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall?" said Hot Spot cheerfully.

Jericho played another chord on his guitar. The familiar sound soothed him. He'd been having bad dreams lately. Playing guitar seemed to help.

G, D, C, E minor, A minor, C major 7, G , D, C… the familiar tune spilled easily from his instrument. Yellow Submarine was easy.

And Kole really like the Beatles. He pushed aside that thought. Thinking of Kole distracted him from the guitar.

He had been surprised that Kole had asked him out on that date. His fingers played the wrong chord. He frowned and played it again, correctly this time. He'd been surprised that she liked him. But it was a nice surprise.

He wasn't going to tell her that he'd been thinking about asking her out as well.

There was a knock on the door. He opened it, and stopped dead in his tracks, the guitar still in his hand. It was the Nightmare Child.

He dropped the guitar and scrambled backwards, fighting the images of his father and Jackal that were surfacing in his mind. The creature walked toward him, and Jericho found he was having trouble breathing.

"Hello Joey," Nightmare Child whispered, reaching out and touching his face in a way that he almost described as gentle. Jericho felt like he was going to faint. Her form was warping in front of him, taking on the far too familiar form of Jackal. Even the voice changed.

He tried to run, to dodge around her and into the hall where he could raise the alarm. Argent was right next door, Kid Flash across the hall, if he moved quickly, he could make it…

But his feet wouldn't move. Just like Argent. Images kept surfacing in his head, and he couldn't keep them down. The time he'd nearly drowned as a little boy in the local pool. The first time he ever possessed someone. The day he lost his voice. The Nightmare Child, still looking like Jackal, smirked at him.

Suddenly he felt something on his throat. He found he could move his hands, and lifted them to the place where he felt it. The small scar on his neck where Jackal had cut him was open again, blood coming out of it. He moved his hands away, looking at the blood on his hands.

The Nightmare Child warped into Slade Wilson, in the uniform that the Titans were used to seeing him in. Amusement gleamed in his—its—eye as it loomed over him.

"I'm so proud of you, Jericho." The words were the last thing Jericho heard before he fainted.

The Nightmare Child tilted its head to one side as it touched the wound on Jericho's neck. It sniffed the blood. It was real, alright. That was surprising. It had never created actual harm in its victims before. Maybe Changer would know the answer to it.

A/N: As a final note here, school is coming up. That means updates will become (even more) uncommon. But don't worry, there's only a few left, and I know almost everything that's going to happen. The goal is to get it all wrapped up by October, or at the most by the end of the year.

Thanks for sticking with me!

Hinn-Raven