Author's Note (I'm baaaaack): Grumbumble: haha, I'm glad I remind you of Phillip Pullman! His books are brilliant works. That's a great compliment, thanks. And Heather... I'll talk to you later. Everyone else, thanks a lot for keeping up with this. You make me happy.

Chapter 8: 6:00: By Candlelight

6:00

Robin leaned back in his desk, reading the old London Times over and over, looking for any hint of Larkin. From what information he had gained from Abby, the boy Ray had claimed that someone evil was possessing Raven's body, and his only suspect was Larkin. It was all making sense... especially what Raven had said to him in his room before Ray had even arrived. And when Ray had been there...

Suddenly, his bulb went out.

Looking up at it, annoyed, Robin remembered the distinct feeling that had overcome him the moment he'd stepped into the living room and seen that little boy. It was one of sudden recognition and relief, as if he'd known the boy his whole life and had somehow been missing him... But Robin had never seen the kid before in his life. Most of all, standing beside Raven's body, he could feel her again... but the aura hadn't been coming from the telekinetic beside him. So the only explanation was that Ray must be telling the truth...

But then, he thought how ridiculous that sounded. Larkin and Raven, switching bodies? Who had ever heard of such a thing? Who had ever dreamed it possible?

And then... he thought of Starfire. "Robin, why does everything always have to be so bad?" Was it really all in his head? He admitted, it was possible. He'd never doubted a friend so much in his life... and she seemed fine enough...

But no. What was that she had said to him, standing in his room as the doorbell rang? "Clever Robbie..." Robbie. Who the hell called him 'Robbie?' Definitely not Raven.

Robin bit his lip as he looked at his digital clock by his bedside, blinking eights.

"I really need new batteries for that thing..." he muttered.

He hoped that Abby and the boy would arrive soon. Soon, he'd find out once and for all, who was lying... and who was telling the truth.

Alone in Raven's room, Larkin threw her bureau against the wall, furiously.

"Things are not going to plan..." he muttered. "But at least that fool Raven is out of my way. I now have a firm friendship in both Starfire and Beast Boy."

Yes, a firm friendship. Which would make it all the easier to use them.

But was this all going to his head? He had never had friends himself, even as a boy, they'd all been more of underlings. He had called many of his followers by different, degrading names, and rightfully so. They were all mindless sheep, anyway. But never had he been insulted in return, even in jest, yet he and Beast Boy had just shared a very amusing moment in which both were throwing meaningless words back and forth to cover the different, serious emotions felt in that room with something lighter. Beast Boy really cared for him... or for Raven, at least.

He didn't know why, but that thought particularly bothered him.

Shaking his head in anger, he pushed thoughts of long-term friendship aside. Whether or not they were worthy enough to be considered his equal was beside the point. They would, eventually, do his bidding. Whether they wanted to or not.

Strangely, the plan now held less satisfaction than it once did. To see such wonderful personalities lost seemed somewhat sad...

Yes, Larkin thought. Sad indeed. What pathetic wastes of lives they are. They shall be put to better use when I am done with them.

Beast Boy and Starfire had two fatal flaws: they were good people. And how Larkin despised good people. He'd made that mistake before. When Raven had come to him, despite what she said of her past, he could feel the good inside her overwhelm the evil she was brought up with and born to control. Against all odds, ironically the child was one of the light, and not of the darkness she commanded. That was a sad instance. To lose such great power to such naivete, whims of saving the world.

We can't all save the world.

On the contrary, some opt to destroy it.

There was nothing there worth saving anyway.

Sighing, Larkin fell into Raven's desk chair and jumped up again as he'd sat on some books.

The books were spread everywhere across the desk's surface and the chair, as well as even the floor. Someone had conducted a search here earlier.

Smiling to himself, Larkin lifted up Raven's edition of An Encyclopedia of Witchcraft and the Supernatural and flipped through it. About to lay it down again, he paused as he noticed a leather bound book that had been resting right beneath it. Frowning in curiosity, he couldn't contain himself.

To his surprise, he found that it was a photo album, full of pictures of her and her friends. In most of them, she was hiding in the background, or had some unhappy expression on her face. He smiled. The Raven he had known as a child had once loved to have her picture taken. After her personality had been modified, she'd despised the invention of the camera. Perhaps she was ashamed of herself, of what she had allowed Larkin to do.

"They say rape victims often undergo a similar experience," Larkin thought aloud. "Violation, whatever the sort, is always traumatizing. Especially violation of the mind, one's own inner sanctum."

But as Larkin looked closer at the pictures, he could always see the hint of a smile behind Raven's cold eyes. And in every picture, she was always surrounded by her friends. No matter how unhappy she seemed about it outwardly, there was always that sparkle in her eyes that Larkin didn't remember from her childhood. Not since before she had lost touch with her most passionate personalities.

Raven never had that happiness with him.

Infuriated, he threw the album against the wall, cracking plaster.

She would pay. In the end, she would wish that she had stayed with him and been obedient. Good can easily be beaten out of a person eventually, no matter how powerful it rested within her. He could have won. And together, they could have been happy...

Larkin closed his eyes and wished for the day to end. Quietly, he knew, at eleven o'clock, it finally would.

On the underground train, Ray shivered.

"Ray, honey, do you need a jacket?" Abby asked, in the middle of taking hers off. But he shook his head.

"Larkin's... he's confused. He's denying something... Lying. Again. It's particularly strong. I can feel it."

"What's he lying about?" Abby asked. "And who too?"

Ray merely shook his head helplessly. "I don't know, I just know this is a very bad lie. It's so obvious, he's trying too hard to cover it up. And Robin's getting anxious."

"You don't by chance get Jerry Springer with that antenna, do you?" Abby asked, tilting her head at Ray. The boy scowled at her.

"When you get inside someone's head, you tend to know them, alright?" Ray snapped. "It's not like I wanted this. This thing is more of a burden than a blessing."

"So you know what they're feeling? At all points of the day?"

"Hell no," Ray said. "If I knew that, I'd go insane. Shouldering the weight of their emotions with my own? The world would be gone by sunrise. No, no, I only feel it when it's particularly strong. Rage, sorrow, fear... those, mostly."

"Does... Robin know about this?" Abby asked. "That you can... feel him I mean?"

Ray looked away. "I never told him," he whispered. "The way we were linked... it was an accident. I didn't want to worsen the power and tell him about the consequences. I was... I guess I was a little embarrassed. If I knew his emotions, then that means he could know mine."

"Um, I hate to say it..." Abby said, "but if it happens to everyone, wouldn't he have found out on his own?"

"He wouldn't know what it was when he did feel me," Ray said, almost condescendingly. "The mind is a very complicated tool, and too mysterious. How's he, of all people, supposed to understand how it works when it took me years of study?"

Abby pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, as if she thought Ray were making a mistake. "I think you underestimate him..."

"Do I?" Ray snapped, turning quickly to glare at her. "And how would you know? I know him better than you do, and longer."

"Maybe," said Abby. "But I spoke to him today. He sounded so convinced of your story. It sounded like he really... as you put it, 'felt' you."

Ray merely sniffed and folded his arms, looking away from Abby. "I underestimate no one."

"Actually, I think you underestimate everyone," Abby returned. "Robin, this Larkin fellow, hell, even me."

"You?" Ray said with a scoff. "Of course, this is a personal matter, I should have known."

"See!" Abby exclaimed. "Always assuming I'm so shallow, so ignorant of everything, so untrusting. I trust you, Ray. I'm risking my job for you. I understand the things you tell me. And I do get how important this is to you!" Ray said nothing, and Abby sighed in annoyance. "Fine then!" she said, in a childlike manner. "Well, I don't want to talk to you either!"

"Good," Ray muttered.

"Well, good!" Abby snapped, folding her arms. "Memo to self: the next time some ranting lunatic kid saying some guy stole his body comes into Sun Oak's, leave him alone!"

She was sitting on a rock, attempting to skip stones across the water when Larkin found her.

"What's troubling you, dear Starfire?" he said warmly with Raven's voice, taking a seat next to her. Starfire jumped, seemingly surprised to see the telekinetic.

"Friend Raven!" she cried. "I did not expect you to find me down here."

Raven laughed. "Yeah, well, I did."

"Beast Boy has informed me of the fun you and he created today in the kitchen."

Raven laughed. "Ah yes, just a bit of culinary fun," she said.

"Indeed..." Starfire muttered, throwing another stone. It sank. She frowned, sadly. "I always enjoyed the physics involved in this activity..." she said, dully.

Raven raised an eyebrow at the alien skeptically. "Physics? You're sitting out here, under the gray sky and setting sun, all by yourself, thinking about the physics of skipping stones?"

Starfire turned to look at her, confused. "You make it sound as though it is a pitiful pastime."

Raven chuckled. "Here, Star, let me show you how to skip a stone." She concentrated a moment, then, suddenly, dots of black energy scattered the surface of the water. Slowly, one by one, all the flat stones arose from the water.

Starfire gasped in delight as the stones piled at her feet. Raven grinned at her happiness.

"Here," she said, lifting a stone. She threw it across the water where it skipped five or six times. Starfire was elated.

"Oh joy!" she cried. "Mine rarely exceeds a second jump! You are truly talented."

"When I was a... child, I used to skip stones often down by a lake near my summer cottage," said Raven, watching the water. She threw another stone and it skipped across the water skillfully.

Starfire frowned. "I never knew you had such a fun childhood," Starfire said.

Raven laughed. "I didn't," she said. "Skipping stones by yourself is a sign of loneliness. I did it when my parents were arguing over what to do with me. They tended to throw things. It made me upset, so to clear my head, I'd go down by the lake."

"Your parents argued?" Starfire said, aghast.

"Yes," said Raven, throwing another stone.

Starfire joined her, her stone now skipping twice. She grinned.

"I was... a special kid. Reclusive. No friends. Very smart. They always argued about whether or not I should go to a special school. Then, one day, my father ended up dead somehow and I was sent to one. I fit in less there than anywhere else. My mother was imprisoned when I was twelve. And that's when I learned to make it on my own."

"I... this does not make sense. You have not seen your mother in a few years?" Starfire said.

Raven blinked at her. "Huh? No, I haven't seen her since... Oh," she said, as if realizing something depressing. "Yes. I suppose, I was with Larkin then, leaving him... after two years of his gracious hospitality."

"But you said you were with your mother before she went to prison..." Starfire said, frowning.

"Let's not linger on the details, shall we?" Raven said quickly. "The point is, I never had anyone I could love. Eventually, I taught people to like me, adore me, even worship me. But they didn't love me." Raven shivered as if she was cold. "Eventually, I decided love was for those less worthy. As long as I had power, I didn't need love. And then, Ra– I mean, Larkin walked into my life. And somehow, I was whole again. He taught me everything. We learned much from each other. And then, in a fit of coldheartedness, I turned on him, because I learned that he wouldn't allow me to get revenge on my father."

"You said your father was dead?" Starfire said.

"I mean, my mother," Raven corrected quickly. "Revenge on my mother. For killing my father. Don't interrupt. I... Larkin was only looking out for my best interests. I would have been safe with him, secure, and powerful. I should have done anything for him. He was more of a parent to me than anyone. I should have... I should have loved him. But it seems I am incapable of love. Both the giving and receiving of it. I cannot love, nor can I be loved. I suppose it is an inconvenience that I've learned to live with."

Starfire was silent a moment as she looked at Raven skeptically. "But... Raven. You are loved."

Raven looked up at her, an unreadable expression in her eyes. She said nothing, though she looked as though her eyes wanted to say much.

"You are loved," Starfire repeated. "And I believe, inside you, that you do love us too."

Beast Boy glanced at Cyborg fleetingly, then looked back at the video screen.

"So you don't believe her?"

"I don't know..." Cybrog muttered. "I remember how much trouble we got in not believing her before..."

"Exactly," Beast Boy said, twisting his controller to the side as if it would avoid his plane crashing into a building. "Aw, man!"

As the game ended, Cyborg didn't even seem interested as he looked at Beast Boy, who was staring dumbstruck at the screen. "It's just... something ain't right, man. My circuits are jumping up and down, trying to get me to notice something... I thought, maybe I was sick, but all systems are up and go, and biologically speaking I'm pretty cool too, so... Well, and Robin... you really think Robin could be nuts? I mean, sure, he does kinda act like it, but I mean, as nuts as Raven says he is? I don't know, dawg, something's just... not exactly... wrong... but... Aw, man, I'm talking like an idiot again. I guess I'm just askin'... So you do believe it? The whole story?"

Beast Boy's eyes didn't leave the rolling credits of the screen as the game replied their battle. "Dude..." he said. "I don't believe it."

"You too, eh..." Cyborg muttered.

"Totally!" Beast Boy exclaimed. "I mean, all day, I never thought it was possible."

"So you never believed it," Cyborg said, sounding optimistic. "So I'm not the only one?"

Beast Boy looked from the screen to Cyborg and shrugged, looking baffled. "I guess so, man. But seriously..." He put a kind hand on Cyborg's shoulder, almost condescendingly. "You're not that bad today, dude. You gotta have some confidence."

"Huh?" Cyborg declared, bewildered. "BB, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Huh?" Beast Boy repeated. "You... wait, what are you talking about?" he asked, accusingly.

"Dude, I'm talking about Raven and Robin! What are you talking about?"

Beast Boy gestured from the screen to Cyborg, his lips moving, but no words coming out. Finally, he burst out. "You just beat the crap outa me for the first time all day and you didn't even notice!"

"Huh?" Cyborg said, frowning, as he looked at the screen in confusion. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and a gleeful smile took over his features. "BOOYAH!" he cried. He then commenced in his victory dance around the couch, much to Beast Boy's displeasure. "I beat you! Uh huh! Oh yeah! I killed Beast Boy! Damn straight! Uh huh!"

"Yeah, yeah," Beast Boy muttered, scratching his head. "I get the picture."

She stood in the doorway of his room undaunted by his silhouette, shrouded in the safety of shadows. She smiled at him.

"Robin," she said.

"Raven," he replied, simply, in a disbelieving voice.

Raven shook her head, making a clicking sound with her tongue. "Tisk, tisk, Robin, you still don't believe me, do you?" she said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.

The room was invaded by blackness.

Silence a moment, then the sound of something striking sandpaper. A tiny star of defiance was kindled on the head of a match and Robin held it to his face, illuminating his mad eyes before he lit a candle on his desk.

"Don't you have lights in here?" Raven asked critically, flicking a nearby switch. She frowned as she commenced in repeating the process, as if the light would be revived by the futile action.

"Bulb's burnt out," Robin said, needlessly.

"No wonder," Raven muttered. "You've had it on all day, scrutinizing papers and books... your eyes must be as wide as a opossum's right now."

In the flickering candle light, Larkin could see with Raven's eyes a sparkle of a white– was that a fang?– reflecting from Robin's grim smile.

Something didn't feel right.

"Robin..." she said, in a tone of a kind, patronizing mother who knew her child had done wrong. "What have you done?"

He picked up a book. "Been doing a little light reading," Robin replied. "Decided I'm not crazy."

"Oh?" Raven said with a skeptical raise of her eyebrows. "And what made you come to this conclusion?"

Robin licked his finger and opened the book, turning a page. He began to read. "'And so, among the many consequences of a Meeting of Minds is the Mind Link, a bond that lasts a lifetime between participants. The threads that link mind and body intertwine with the second mind, sensing emotions, fears and pains. If somehow, these threads are broken, something is wrong with the Other Mind. Perhaps it is dead. Or perhaps, it is not what it seems.'"

"And this has to do with what, exactly?" Raven inquired, raising her eyebrows.

Robin closed the book and threw it on top of his desk. "Raven, you're not what you seem," he said.

"Aren't I?" Raven asked, shrugging. "I mean, Robin, Mind Links are only legend. They are very rare. I was only in your head for ten minutes. It wasn't enough time to forge a life-long bond."

"This book begs to differ," Robin said. "And so does my head." He walked around his desk and leaned on it, eying Raven in the candlelight. "You're right. I was being ridiculous when I said I couldn't feel anything from you anymore. Because I could. It just wasn't Raven.

"There was more than one person in my head that night. There was Raven... and then there was you."

"I am Raven," the girl said slowly.

Robin laughed. "Oh please, just drop the charade, will you? I should have known it from the start. The way you can freeze a room when you walk into it, the sheer power resonating from you like rays from the sun, the ominous chills that run up and down my spine... it's you. Of course. Charles Larkin."

Silence consumed them again and the tension rose. Robin heard the sound of metal on metal out of the darkness Raven cloaked herself with.

"I've already told them you're crazy," Raven said in a low voice. "They believed that readily enough. I wonder how they'll handle your suicide."