Author's Note: How-dee-do-dee, all. What your reading now will be the first and last AN to appear at the beginning of a chapter…It'll also be the first and last time you see me use the phrase "how-dee-do-dee". Hopefully.

Anywho, thanks for stopping by! This is my first attempt at full-blown Teen Titans fanfiction (I've tossed out some confusing and trippy poetry before, but that doesn't count), and I hope it turns out well.

Points to address that you probably don't care about but that I have to write anyway before I shut up!

Disclaimer: gives entire audience the look and moves on to Aforementioned Summery

Aforementioned More Detailed Summery Within:

Raven has gotten…touchier lately. Lately everyone seems louder, everything seems brighter…And having an apparent "cold" isn't helping matters any. But when a cult leader with a panache for mind-transport, mind-reading, and mind-bending comes into play, and when a very unwelcome guest starts appears inside her friend's heads, Raven begins to suspect just what's causing her discomfort…And just how close her paper-thin walls are to breaking down. This story concentrates on breaking down the walls put up by every member of the Titans team, and on the lengths people go to make themselves happy.

…And that was an equally crappy summery. Aw, screw it, I wanna get this thing up.

Dedication: This fic is dedicated to (among many others) Change-of-Heart2, The Sage of the Story, SuNsHiNe10, Mint Dragon, and any other fanfiction author whose managed to create something real inside their works. You're the people who inspire me to keep writing, and to keep writing fanfiction, and for that I will always be grateful.

Pairings: /sigh/ Okay…Much as I would love to say that I could write this story with no mention of any pairings whatsoever so that everyone stays happy and friendly and doesn't bombard me with possums, I, sadly, am a shipper. And thus I can't. So, that said, this story does involve Raven/Beast Boy with a nice helping of Robin/Star for flavor. If you don't like R/BB, either (a) ignore the R/BB-ness and try to enjoy the story as it is or (b) don't read it. "Flaming the author about how much you hate R/BB", you'll note, is not an option. While I'm not an official shipper, I think it's sweet and lovely and it makes me happy inside, so I'm writing it. So there.

And now, without further ado,

prologue.

"Hope you have got your things together.

Hope you are quite prepared to die.

Looks like we're in for nasty weather.

One eye is taken for an eye.

So don't come round tonight,

It's bound to take your life,

There's a bad moon on the rise."

--"Bad Moon Rising", Creedence Clearwater

Raven's mind needed some serious redecorating.

She sighed an inward sort of sigh (though outside, now, of course, since she was essentially inside of"inward") as her azure boots padded along the barren landscape that made up her psyche. Pebbles of dirt crumbled beneath her feet. The wind batted heavy at her ears. Somewhere in the distance a raven screeched.

She didn't really blame her emotions for their silence today. After exploding at Beast Boy, and then exploding at herself for exploding at Beast Boy, and then exploding at her exploding at herself for exploding at Beast Boy, she couldn't fault their desire to give her due space. And why should she? Why would she? She thanked them…It was so very rare that the blackbird received the silence owed to her these days. Starfire could now barely contain the ever-hated, ever-chittering "girl talk" from bursting through the courteous dam she'd erected on Raven's behalf; an hour the redhead had gone on during this morning's meditation about make-up or something of the like before Raven had finally caught on that she'd been speaking to her. Robin could be heard up in the training room beating mats and walls and gods know what else day and night…Ever since they'd beaten up that punk who'd claimed his cult of choice would "consume their souls" any day now, just like they always did. Cyborg and Beast Boy's gaming habits had somehow managed to go from rambunctious to…to…anarchical in their practice…She'd spent twenty dollars out of her own metaphorical pocket (try installing pockets onto leotards) buying Beast Boy a new controller after Cyborg had chucked his old one—not to mention the now old PS2—out the ninth-story window. And Beast Boy…Beast Boy…

He never shut up. That was all there was to it—the shape-shifter would never shut the nine hells up. Ever. Never once six months ago did she anticipate she'd be wishing for him to return to his previous, more peaceful ways…As if the boy-man even could. It wasn't so much that there was a "new Beast Boy" and that he even had an "old one" to return to. The old Beast Boy was the new Beast Boy, and they were both, essentially, still Beast Boy, and Beast Boy was a green changeling who she now wanted beat over the head with her latest 600-page novel on a tri-daily basis. Gods! Every day…

"Whatcha reading, Rave?"

"Want some tofu, Rave?"

"Wanna hear my new joke, Rave?"

"You okay, Rave?"

Always the same, always the same "Rave"! She'd told him, she'd told him so many times: "Nothing"; "Not on my life"; "No"; "I am fine, Beast Boy". So many times…and that "Rave"! That hideous "Rave"! No one could call her "Rave"…It was Raven, Raven, always Raven. It was so simple; so easy. Don't talk to her, she wouldn't kill you. And still he did it…And still he pressed on…Never ceasing, never breathing, again, and again, and again!

"Then why don't you do something about it?"

Raven jumped for a split-second, then immediately recovered to her blank-slate self.

"Anger," she stated rather than greeted the scarlet-swathed figure who'd interrupted her walk by popping up six feet ahead of her.

"Rage shall consume you."

"Yes, yes, I know that, seeing as you make a point of mentioning it every single day of my life."

"Your miserable life."

"That's right, Rage." Raven began rubbing her temples. Gods, she needed some herbal tea… "My miserable life. Right. How could I have forgotten. Miserable. Right. Check. Thank you so very, very much for reminding me."

Rage's mouth curled into a smirk which made Raven flinch.

"No problem, little Raven. That's my job."

Raven's violet eyes narrowed.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," quipped Rage, that trash-soaked curl of a smile growing on her moon-like face, causing her bloody eyes to crackle shoots of crimson.

"Rage," Raven began, frost caking her every word. "You are one of my emotions. You are my shadow, my mind. I am gray, and you are grey. I can control you; I do control you."

The thing's voice came out in a nasal song.

"Not al-ways…"

"That, you little thing," Raven spat back, whipping around to face her Rage, "was a freak accident, something I've taken immense precaution to not allow again. And it will not happen again."

"Ah, ah, ah…" twittered the emotion, wagging one slender finger in her birth-mother's face. "Never say never, my little blackbird."

Raven felt it; the familiar, molten rage bubbling in her stomach, roaring metallic up through her throat, threatening to spew out her mouth in an uncontained bought of pure hate…But she swallowed, and she counted her heartbeats, and down it went again.

"If you do plan on pulling another take-over," she replied in her typical monotone, "it was moronic to come here and tell me about it. You know that--" She raised a single black brow. "—right?"

"Ah, but I'm already in the midst of preparations…" Rage sounded positively delighted with herself. It made Raven want to throw up. "Did it not seriously occur to you that perhaps your friends haven't grown louder? That perhaps Robin always trains day in and day out? That perhaps Starfire always talks and giggles and squeezes you this much? That perhaps you bought the 'dynamic duo' a new controller two years ago as well?" Her eyes met Raven's for the cutting blow. "That perhaps—just perhaps—Beast Boy sees something that you haven't?"

Raven's voice literally stung on its journey out her throat.

"Excuse me?"

"Maybe he's asking you so many questions because you look so much more preoccupied all of the time." Rage stared into the air at something Raven couldn't see; her red eyes seemed to gleam. "So much paler then usual. Is he the only one that notices? Maybe he's wrong. Maybe you're just thinking about something more important than the stuff he thinks about. Of course, you always do… But maybe you're sick? Maybe you've got the flu. Maybe it's a virus. Maybe he'll get it too."

A thousand questions swarmed Raven's mind, her heart, her blood. Something...sharp took a hold of her body. Something telling her to run away. A feeling. A bad feeling. What had John Irving called it? The "Under Toad". The Under Toad, waiting to suck you beneath its black, black depths…

"Maybe he's wrong…" Rage trailed off, and, as if on ball-bearings, her head swiveled to look her avatar straight in the eye. The smirk had faded from Rage's face to leave something which made Raven's heart freeze…

"But then, maybe he's right."

Raven didn't say a word in reply.

"The time is so very close we can almost taste it, little bird. No planets aligning; no, nothing so clean. The very wind itches with his essence. You know of whom I speak."

She didn't say a word…

"He is coming. He has followers again; he has souls. More than just yours. But they're not enough…Oh, no, they're still not enough. They're just people after all. He wants more than just people. It's the only way he will finally be free. He is an infection, Raven. And he's growing tired of having you as his only host."

Raven's fingernails dug into the flesh of her palms.

"I think…" She slammed her eyes shut and focused all of herself into straightening her wavering voice. "I think you should go now, Rage."

She kept her eyes closed through that terrible, evil snickering. She kept her eyes closed as she heard the sound of boots padding closer and closer. She kept her eyes closed as she felt hot, humid breath on her neck and as her emotion's parting words, high and sneering, tip-toed sing-song through her ear:

"Rage shall con-sume you…"

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Raven's eyes flicked open in an instant and turned towards the audience with a scrupulous stare.

"Do you think they'll review?"

Rage picked at her fingernails with a flippant air.

"They will if they want to live."

Was that a death threat to make you guys click that little lilac box that every author loves? No...of course not…/shifty eyes/ But seriously folks, reviews make kittens happy, and no reviews make little babies cry. And who wants to make a baby cry? It's one of the most annoying noises in the universe to this day (seeing as I have to deal with it every waking and sleeping moment of my existence from my little sister, I know of what I speak). So, please, please review. It will buy you my love (my love being in the form of more chapters, not…um…other things…)

With love and wholesome rage,

Paiga!

p.s. If anybody knows the song "2-plus-2-equals-5" by Radiohead its lyrics are like a complete and total spoiler for this whole story. I'd be curious to see if any one figures it out…

p.p.s. I realize this chapter was uber-short. That's because it was the prologue…Typical chapters should be anywhere from four to ten pages.