Author's Note: Another story to break writer's block, but this one actually came from a concept that came from a discussion I had with my friend StarStar16. I'm not going to go into detail with that conversation, only to state that if she even dares to put down what it was about, I will kill her, because it will give away the plot. Basically, it's both of our ideas, and I used some of her suggestions, but I changed a lot of what I originally intended. This chapter is looonnggg...I went on a writing spree today (which is why I wasn't on the site, Kelbel!) I'll post another chapter as soon as I get at least two reviews and have actually written it.

Disclaimer: Do I look like I own the Titans? But I do own an awesome guitar...and that will have to be enough.

There were glaring lights, shading cast upon the ground so subtle, almost unnoticed, and unspoken of. Padded walls, ceilings, floors, surfaces caught her bodies angles softly and cradled them, and she noticed slowly that though comfortable, she could not move. And she was alone. White, white was her only indication of reality, only sense that seemed real in this dreamlike quality.

What had happened to her dark room, the statuettes rowed and categorized neatly on the top shelves of bookcases stuffed with art and literature? What had happened to that round bed with soft satin sheets, black in color, dark purple draperies hanging from the posts? The windows that looked upon the bay, the sound of waves crashing against the sand beneath? Where had she been taken to, and why?

She was too comfortable to think long on it, and yet it bothered her. Shouldn't' she be back in the Tower, with the others, perhaps telling Beast Boy what an idiot he is? Training with Robin? Trying to get Starfire to go away, or helping Cyborg repair some new machinery? The subtle humming of the lights almost lulled her into a peaceful sleep. But there was something wrong with her surroundings. Why was she bound? She wasn't sure if she wished to look down and see what kept her so still, trapped so comfortably. Her cloak was not there. That much she knew.

And for once her emotions did not vie for a position first in her mind. Now, peace reigned.

The door she had not noticed opposite the wall she sat opened quietly, and a smiling man with a kind face opened the door, holding a cup of something…she could see small circular objects inside of the slightly tinted plastic.

"Hello, Raven. How are we today?" She didn't answer, so he just started walking further toward her. He had a bottle of water with him. "More subdued than usual. It's good to see you in a good mood." He crouched down beside her, and now she could see what was in the little cup. Medicine. Pills? Why did she need that? Had he drugged her? She started to struggle against her bonds, and looked down to find herself in what looked to be a white suit, arms crossed in a funeral pose, unable to move…a straight jacket. Struggling harder now out of panic, she watched the strange man's face move from a kind smile into a frown.

"Now, now, none of that. Quiet down and take your medicine like a good girl." But when she did not quiet down, he pulled out what seemed to be a taser. Electricity sparkled at the top of the elongated stick, and she felt it being pressed inbetween her ribs. A shot of something that seemed to be a delicious mix of pleasure and pain shot through her, and she fell to the floor, eyes half closed. Plastic could be felt against her lips for a moment, and next something was tipped into her mouth. She could feel him forcing her to swallow, and slowly her eyes closed further…she was so tired.

"Rest well, Raven. I hope you feel better soon."

Robin woke up panting from the strange dream he had just had. He rubbed his eyes and tried to catch strains of the images floating away from him, tried to make sense of it all. Something about Raven…a white, padded room…medicine…and strange medical worker…he sighed and attempted to get out of bed, the cold air hitting his bare chest and making him shiver. His mask lay on the table next to him. He dabbed some appliqué glue onto it and placed it in position with quick, practiced fingers. He dressed with agility, and sharp, catlike motions, snapping the belts on his boots last, and finally looked around the room, finally noticing something different.

His room in Jump City was identical to his old bedroom in Gotham, right down to where the window was placed and where the bed stood. Only the articles clipped out and taped to the drab painted walls were different. In the Tower they consisted of Slade, Brother Blood, the Brotherhood of Evil, and a few articles on the smaller, less-dangerous villains…in Gotham they consisted of the Joker, the Penguin, Cat-woman, the Riddler, and the list went on…and a headline had just caught his eyes.

Scarecrow Seduces Sinister Suicidal Destruction in Downtown Gotham

Reporters could be idiotic in their love for alliterations…but why was this article here? He clearly remembered putting up this particular clipping about a month before he left Gotham to allow Tim a bigger bedroom and go recruit his own team in Jump City. Since when had he returned home? And hadn't Tim redecorated his room, preferring a more typical atmosphere for a teenager?

A crease in his mask appeared as he frowned, suspecting something immediately. Robin quietly crept to the familiar door and slowly opened the door, silently creeping down the hall and sliding down the stairs banister, which he had had loads of practice doing as a small child in Wayne Manor. He could hear voices in the kitchen, talking. The sounds were muffled. Creeping around the corner and a pillar that decorated one of the four corners of the reception area of the manor, he extended his bo-staff and leaped around into the open kitchen, ready for whatever fight he might encounter…

Instead he was met by the surprised face of Bruce Wayne, eggs comically halfway to his mouth, and Alfred frying ham behind Bruce, his posture completely correct, and Tim smirking and raising an eyebrow as he looked up from his gameboy. "Dude…we know you're serious about the whole hero thing, but we already fought off all the ninjas while you were sleeping late."

His mask stretched again as he lifted an eyebrow, and he retracted his bo-staff, placing it in his belt and sitting down at his normal place. Bruce gave him an odd look and continued eating. Alfred gave him the usual 'Good morning, Master Greyson', and Tim continued to smirk annoyingly. "Soo….what's with the getup?"

Robin sighed, not wanting to play mind games with the kid this morning. "How did I get here?"

Bruce gave him another odd look from across the breakfast table. "Walked, I hope. Alfred just polished those banisters yesterday, and I asked you both not to slide down them."

He waved that off. "No, I mean, how did I get back to Gotham?"

"Back?"

"Yes, back. I was in Jump City last night. I wake up this morning in Gotham…" He looked to his belt and noticed something missing. "And my communicator's gone. Won't my team be worried?"

"Your team?" Bruce asked, with a slight tinge of worry in his voice.

"Yes! My team!" Robin almost yelled in half disgust and half awe. Why were they all acting as if they didn't have a clue what he was talking about? Tim's smirk was now gone, but he was staring at him hard, and Alfred had stopped cooking long enough to turn and glance in concern at the three of them. He heard him speak to Bruce next.

"Should I call the doctor, sir?"

"Not at the moment, Alfred." He leaned forward across the table, looking hard into Robin's expression, trying to discern if this was all a bluff. "What are you talking about, Richard?"

Now he knew that they weren't messing with his head. Bruce never kid about anything…either he was going crazy, or something he couldn't even begin to explain was going on.

Cyborg sat up and stretched, yawning as he felt his stomach give the first rumble of the day. It was time to get something to eat…the lack of food for so many hours had probably given him the strange dreams to begin with. I mean, why else would he dream something about Robin of all people?

He stopped as he looked around the room…yeah, it was all metal and machinery, but it certainly wasn't his room in the Titans Tower. It looked like…but it couldn't be. Somehow he had ended up back in his old hospital room back in his hometown, with the beeping monitors, wearing that same stupid hospital gown, but he wasn't stuck to the bed this time and in awful pain from the car crash…although as he looked down at his leg he did see that it was broken.

Cyborg held up his arms. They were whole again. He hit his chest solidly with his fist. Flesh, not metal. He tapped the left side of his head…still bald, but man, how good skin felt against his knuckles! He sighed and shook his head. He was probably just having a dream again. He kept telling himself it was no good living in the past and wishing he could be what he used to be again, but for some reason he kept having dreams like this one…well, not exactly like this one. The others were memories and nightmares detailing the crash and all the pain, how his girlfriend Sarah had reacted when she saw that he was a half-machine monstrosity, how his dad had turned away in shame…this was no nightmare. This was wonderful.

He stood up and felt pain rushing up his broken leg, but that was alright with him. He didn't mind it so much. Cyborg walked a couple of times around the room and marveled how it was to feel again…the touch of curtains, smooth surfaces, sheets (even those scratchy, uncomfortably thin ones in the hospital), wood, and even—he shivered at this last one—metal from the bed. He quickly withdrew his hand from that.

He went to a closet he found and opened the door, finding some pants and pulling them on—those hospital gowns were too damn revealing—and then finding a band t-shirt and pulling off that stupid gown and shoving the shirt over his head, but not first before taking a look at himself in the mirror, his dark chest and tight, football and track toned muscles reflected in that full-length piece of glass. Cyborg couldn't help but smile and then pull his shirt on the rest of the way.

Cyborg turned as the door opened, and a slight gasp escaped him. There was a head of long, slightly wavy blond hair and pale skin, a trim body and a dazzling smile—his Sarah. She smiled sweetly. "I didn't expect you'd be awake yet, Vic. That accident gave us all one hell of a turn. We all thought we had lost you."

He couldn't think of anything to say. Suddenly he was rushing across the room and embracing her, picking her up and twirling her around as she shrieked in surprise and laughed. He put her down again, and her blue eyes were smiling, laughing with the shock of it. "Why, whatever's gotten into you, Victor?"

"I…I just missed you, babe." He said kind of breathlessly. This was the best dream he had ever had. He never wanted to wake up.

Starfire was smiling as she opened her eyes and looked around her room. How happy her friend had been! She did not think it very strange to dream of her friend Cyborg in such a happy position, even though she did not know that he had had a girlfriend or that a car had been the cause of what he looked like now—she supposed that was just the dream. On her planet it was not odd to often dream and hope for the happiness of others, something that was not always true on earth, and she hardly ever understood that…earth people were strange.

She stood, popped her neck back into place from where it had hung off the edge of her pink, pastel colored bed, and stretched, gliding to her door, humming, and then opening it, beaming. "Good morning my friends on this most glorious of—" Here she stopped. This was not the hallway she had been expecting to see. She was not in the Tower, but a Tameranian palace servant was busily working and had stopped to look at her as she entered the palace bed chambers hallway and spoke in a strange tongue. Starfire frowned. She was not sure whether to be pleased or confused. As happy as she was to be back on her home planet, it was a bit odd. What would Robin and the others think when they found her gone.

"Perhaps I participated in the sleep of walking last night…" She could think of no solution that completely made sense. The servant had risen from his knees where he was scrubbing the floors and bowed before her, starting to speak in the fast-paced Tameranian dialect.

"My Princess, you will have to excuse me. I am not skilled in as many languages as you, and I do not understand what you say, if you speak to me. If you are speaking only your thoughts aloud in this strange tongue, I apologize for interfering."

Starfire smiled and bowed in return to the servant. "Pardon me, my friend. I was merely wondering…when did I return here? I remember last being on the planet of Earth, and now I have returned to my chambers."

The servant frowned. His face twisted in an effort to make the sound of the word 'Earth'. "E-yarth-e? I am not familiar with that land, My Lady, and I had no idea you had left our planet for any excursion of late. In fact, I thought you had been here the whole time." When he saw the confusion on her face, he bowed again. "Forgive me, Princess, but the King and Queen have asked for me or any of the other servants who first saw your person this morning to deliver the message that they wish an audience with you this morning, at your leisure."

Yes, of course…her parents would have an explanation for this strange turning of events. She went back into her room and pulled on her boots, setting her crown into her long hair and brushing out the tangles before applying the customary bands of metal befitting of the younger princess. Her boots made clinking sounds as she walked off down the hall, looking down the halls and out the windows as she went. How beautiful was her planet! Sometimes she wished she had not ever left…but then, she did love Earth too… it was filled with very beautiful sights, not the least being the people.

Starfire remembered once more that her friends may be worried over her absence. She reached into the edge of the top of her left boot to pull out the mustard—how she loved that beverage!—colored communicator…but her boot was empty except for her foot.

She might be able to understand being called to Tameran once her parents had explained, but why had they taken her communicator?

Beast Boy sat up in his bed, and for a moment he thought someone was shaking him. For a second he thought it was Star, because he remembered some strange dream where he had been on Tameran and listening to their crazy language…on that stupid planet where they didn't even have tofu. He rolled over in bed and buried his face into his pillow and pulled the covers over his head. "C'mon, man, five more minutes!" When the constant motion didn't stop, he realized that it was a lot more smooth than someone shaking you…it was more like someone rocking you. He sat straight up in his bed, staring around the room, and noticing the hard wood paneling and the bunk bed above his head, the detailing on the anchored furniture in the small cabin, and the portholes along with a life preservers…he was in his old room on his parents safari ship! The same one that had sunk just months after they had given him the cure that kept him from dying of the disease that turned his skin green to begin with. Cautiously he got out of bed and stretched, noticing that he was a lot shorter than he had been when he had last gone to bed…a lot younger. This was ages before he had joined the Doom Patrol…was he just dreaming? Probably.

His bare feet against the rough floorboards felt strange. A thought occurred to him…in this dream could he still not transform into larger shapes, like he couldn't in this stage in his life? At this point he could only transform into mice, or rabbits, just very small creatures…and his parents didn't even know the side effects yet, though they were studying it.

His parents…they would still be…a lump formed in his chest and he ran up the steps that led to the deck, stopping at the top of them when he saw his dad's sandy blonde hair as he looked out into the coast of Africa, his tan hands gripping the wonderful oak paneling of their ship. He turned to tell his son good morning, that same messy grin on his face that Beast Boy had inherited. "Good morning Gar—" He barely got that out before Beast Boy had tackled him, knocking him down onto the deck and happily hugging him.

"Dad! You're here, you're here! This is awesome!" He said without even thinking about it. His Dad was laughing—a deep, hearty laugh that most people don't even have—and trying to push Beast Boy off of him.

"Of course I'm here, Gar, where else would I be, swimming alongside the boat? Get off of me, man, get off!"

He didn't even want his dad to joke about swimming along the boat…or drowning…but he was so happy he didn't even give it a second thought. He jumped up excitedly and looked around. "Where's Mom?"

"She's looking at some of the algae samples we have in the lab, why—" Automatically Beast Boy was tearing off in the direction of the lab, trying to find his mother. He was down in what was really only a half a minute, but it seemed like forever. He stopped when he saw her. He had forgotten how beautiful she was. His mother was standing there, dark brunette hair trying to escape from the loose ponytail she had it trapped in, eye pressed to the microscope, muttering to herself. Beast Boy's heart leapt into his throat again and he almost cried as he croaked a small call.

"Mom…" She turned, and then he found his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly, she hugging him back, but with a little uncertainty.

"Garfield, honey, what's wrong?"

"It's just good to be home." He said quietly.

Raven woke up stiff and sore, her back aching as she stretched and looked around. She tried to recall the events of her dream, about some strange green boy reunited with his family…it probably didn't even mean anything. Her arms raised above her head in another stretch and then she looked around. No one else in the Church of Blood gang had woke up yet…they were still to drunk to, and plus it was early, far too early to get up.

Raven stood up and looked at her pillow and cot…it was far too uncomfortable and they needed some real beds, but street urchins like they were…who was going to provide them with something like that? No, they were totally on their own. She walked past the alter that was currently being used not for prayer but for a stash for stolen cash and stole a piece of halfway rotten fruit from the offering bowl. She grimaced as she bit into the apple…mealy, but it would have to do, because her stomach demanded nourishment. A glance was given to her half-dead digital watch: 4:39 in the morning. What was she even doing up at this hour?

She knew. She hated that dream she had just had about that green kid, and his reuniting with his family. Why couldn't her life be like that? Instead it was all stealing, killing, and trying not to get Bane to use her too much over her powers…not to mention hiding from the followers of Scath.

There was a bit of every kind of filth in the gang of the Church of Blood. Stick a whole band of 6 to 25 year olds that are thieves, murderers, hit men, con artists, hookers, pimps, drug dealers, and modern mafia together in an abandoned Catholic church, and you were definitely asking for trouble. This wasn't a group for the weak. This was tough, dirty, grueling work…you put out or you shoved out…and you normally shoved out in a body bag.

And Bane was the leader of the group. The only category he didn't fall under among them was prostitute, and with all the times he got laid around here (he had the pick of any of the girls he wanted), he might as well be. They just didn't pay him for it was all…unless you counted the fact that the girls he chose were forever clinging to their arm and woe betide the bitch that decided to cheat on him or break up with him, no matter how many times he got a different girl behind her back, or right in front of her face. One night with Bane, and that was the end. You were literally his till death did you part.

And she knew she was his latest target, just because she was hard to get through to. She was uncooperative and didn't follow orders. All she asked for was a place to crash and food to eat, no questions asked, and she did the minimum price expected for it: stealing, and the occasional threatening and murder.

Raven walked to the window and sighed, looking out on Jump City. She hated this city. Suddenly she realized someone was standing right beside her. Speak of the devil…Bane himself. She turned to him and examined his deep green eyes. "What the hell do you want?"

"Easy, sugar. Just thought I'd keep you company."

"Thanks, but no thanks." She said brutally, but then she felt his hand on her shoulder, rough and calloused. His voice was flat-lined and still a little drunk, low, almost a whisper, and definitely a threat.

"Nobody says no to me, Raven."

Raven woke up in a cold sweat, looking around the Tower living room. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and wiped away the memory…how she had hated those days. Why she had relived that particular dream, she didn't know. It hadn't happened before…often.

They must have all fallen asleep during the movie. The rest of the guys were all passed out on the couch, and the TV screen was back on the DVD player logo. She stood up, straightened her cloak, and shook Robin roughly by the shoulder. "Hey, Boy Blunder, wake up." She said in a loud whisper. He shot straight up in his seat, gripping her wrist in a sudden reflex of a nightmare. Her head cocked in concern. "Easy, Robin. I'm just trying to wake everyone up. We fell asleep in front of the TV."

He seemed to suddenly come to himself now. "Oh…okay, Raven…I just had a strange dream…well, two dreams really…you were in the first one…and I was…well. It doesn't matter." He kicked Beast Boy's back and the little changeling sat up, his expression going from extreme bliss to extreme annoyance. He turned with an unusual snarl.

"Man, if there was ever a bad time to wake me up…"

Robin snickered and smirked. "What, were you having a wet dream or something?"

Beast Boy pulled a disgusted face and stood up, heading off toward the bedrooms but hitting Cyborg in the head first. "Wake up, Tin-man. We dozed off again."

Cyborg too seemed to wake up in a somewhat bad mood from what was obviously a very good dream, but shook it off better than Beast Boy did. "Oh…well, alright then. No descent sleep for me tonight." The behemoth gave a huge yawn and stood up, motioning over to the sleeping alien. "Someone aught to wake up Star."

Robin walked over to the Tameranian and gently shook her shoulder. "Hey, Star…Star…Star!" He had to get louder with each call, and finally she woke up with a sigh.

"Hello, my friends…is it the morning already?"

"No, Starfire, it's still night. We just fell asleep in front of the TV. It must have been exhaustion from our fight with Mumbo."

"Yeah, it was intense." Cyborg agreed. "That man has gotten more tricks up his sleeve lately, if you'll pardon the pun."

"Beast Boy apparently found it very erotic, though…" Robin joked, still trying to cheer up the changeling with harmless banter. It concerned him that his friend was in such a rotten mood.

"Piss off." Beast Boy almost screamed, almost with tears in his eyes, and then stormed off to his bedroom. Robin felt guilt flooding over him.

"I was just trying to get him to lighten up a bit." Robin said with a shrug…the others shrugged too, attributing it to fatigue on the youngest member's part. The boy wonder tried to change the subject. "Hey, did any of you have really strange dreams?"

"Yeah, come to think of it." Cyborg admitted. "Actually it was like double dreams, ya know? I think you were in one."

"I too experienced dreams of odd varieties." Starfire admitted. They all turned to Raven, and she shrugged, not wanting to admit that she too had a very disturbing nocturnal vision.

"Must have been the pizza. I told all of you not to eat it." She muttered in her monotone. The leader of their team shrugged, and then yawned.

"Well, weird dreams or not, I'm off to bed. 'Night, Titans."

Everyone muttered their farewells, and Raven was left standing alone in the living room. How odd was it that all of them had had weird dreams that night? And something lingered in her mind…something about white walls and glaring lights…but was it a dream?

Whatever it was, it was gone. She sighed, and retired for the night.