First, a note or two:

This is the second of my stories, and once again, I beg those of you who know everything about the included series not to complain. I am not trying to be as faithful to the comics or TV series as possible, so if you want accuracy, I suggest you look somewhere else.

KEY:

'Blah' = thought

"Blah" = speech

I don't own the Teen Titans or any of the undermentioned items. Teen Titans is a trademark of some large comic company and Cartoon Network. Ack! No Jokes! Ack! head explodes

Please review if you've read this story. I will not continue to update unless I get reviews.

If you don't know, Dick Grayson is who I say he is (won't say more here – don't want to ruin the story).

The Ninth Circle is from Dante's Inferno.

Bit adapted from 3001: The Final Odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke, and the Harry Potter books in here. I don't own either...

And now, on with the show.

Dick Grayson awoke, but he did not remember. He was not even sure of his name. He hadn't used it in so long. He had a childish urge to cry out for his mother. She would make things better. She always made things better. His head hurt. And then he remembered.

She was dead. So was his father. Dead because of a sabotaged trapeze. Dick felt a cold, unquenchable anger rise up in the pit of his stomach like a piece of pizza that had gone bad. He remembered dedicating his life to fighting the same darkness that had consumed his parents.

Then he remembered his name – the name by which everyone knew him, and the name by which he now knew himself. He was Robin, Boy Wonder, Leader of the Teen Titans. It was all flooding back now, as if someone had opened the floodgates of an enormous dam.

He tried to remember why he was injured, and it came to him, albeit in small fragments, and slowly. The Boy Named Robin remembered fighting a huge stone creature – who was it? He didn't remember that – and being beaten to a pulp by its huge rocky fists. Images of Starfire's near-defeat flooded his mind, as well as Beast Boy's miraculous – and brutal – rescue.

How had he returned to, well, wherever he was? He was obviously not still out in the woods. There was no dirt , and whatever he was lying on was too soft. Unless someone had dragged a bed out into the middle of the woods, he thought. He smiled stupidly at the ridiculous thought. Probably Starfire had dragged him up here. Sweet Starfire, he thought fondly. He'd have to thank her.

Robin opened his eyes, and saw that he was on an inflatable bed in the middle of the TV room. He looked around slowly, and saw Starfire sitting on the couch, her chin resting in her hands, knees on elbows. She was hurt fairly badly – she had black and blue marks all over her – and her hair was plastered all over her face. Despite her appearance, however, Starfire had evidently made no attempt to take care of herself, instead watching Robin, willing him to awake. Robin looked at her face beneath the unkempt hair, and saw streaks of tried tears.

He smiled at the young Tamaranian girl, with whom he had shared so many an adventure, trying to ignore a throbbing headache. "Hi," said Robin gently.

Raven new what she had to do. She had put it off for long enough, and her friends were counting on her. She may have already put them down. Raven picked up an old, ornately carved mirror, and looked at it thoughtfully. It had a gold, carved rim and a wooden handle. Inlaid in gold in the handle were the strange words luos eht fosro dir roceht nise ilnoit meder oth tapeht. She pressed her nose against the mirror, and felt herself entering the cavernous confines of her own mind. She shivered involuntarily, for she knew what she must encounter there.

"Hello," said Raven timidly into the vast expanses of her Self. She heard the returning echo, distant and forlorn, and a slight fear ran through her. That was one advantage to this place: being inside her own mind, her powers were relatively contained. She could express any emotion she liked, and could allow her thoughts to roam freely.

This, however, was only a small comfort this time. Raven knew that he'd be here, somewhere. He seemed to grow stronger with any suppressed anger or sadness that the young sorceress felt. He had learned to channel it into himself, taking from Raven's angry persona and feeding his own life force. He was using her pain to strengthen himself.

Raven began to walk. She started to see her personalities flitting around like bits of rainbow before her. Happiness and Bravery were the first to join her – they always were eager to help out travelers through the paths of Raven's mind – followed, somewhat reluctantly, by Doubt and Fear. The four emotions plus the real Raven walked steadily down the path. 'Still not the same as last time,' thought Raven, 'Cyborg's not here, and neither's Beast –'

She stopped. It was too painful to think of him now. And pain was too dangerous here. She needed to stop thinking about –

A tremor suddenly shook the foundations of Raven's mind. She stared around her, looking for any sign of movement. 'Shit,' she thought, 'he really is back.' And then suddenly, a dark shape loomed in front of her. It had four sets of red, glowing eyes, and a dark, menacing grin.

"Hello, Raven," greeted Trigon, Master of the Ninth Circle.