Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans, or any related material, although the story idea is mine.

Thanks to everybody who responded. I'll do my best to write as much as possible these next few days, because I'm leaving town for Thanksgiving and I might not be able to write for a while. Sorry.

dIsky: One chapter at a time? Allrighty then!

Chapter 9

He sat, still trying to collect his thoughts as he reviewed the recent events in his minds. He had been attacked by one of his former best friends, and he was now battered and bruised because of it. The thoughts and emotions crowded his head as he tried to make sense of it all. He was still having trouble thinking clearly, but who could blame him? He was still trying to recover from being attacked by...whatever that thing was that had possessed Raven.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the darkness, and this was preventing him from sleep. The experience was haunting him and probably would for the next little while. Blowing out his breath in frustration, he realized that this was going to mark his mind for some time to come. None of this would have happened if he hadn't gotten into this situation in the first place! Scowling, he crossed his arms in frustration, though this only caused him more pain; it was still tough to move after what had just transpired.

On top of everything, Slade wanted to continue training in about an hour. How was he supposed to do that? What was he going to do, stare the obstacles to death? That'd certainly do it...

At least she hadn't been there to see the whole thing. If she had, she would without a doubt have been pretty angry at Raven. He could tell that she didn't want to fight him or beat him, merely to deter him. She was probably the only Titan at this point that didn't hate his guts, and he knew it. He certainly wished that she would hurry up and find those cursed probes!

All of a sudden, he heard the soft pitter patter of footsteps outside of his room and he peered out his so-called window to see what was going on. It was Starfire, out and about by herself, running towards the site he had just recently escaped from. What was she doing there? What was she doing out of the hospital, for that matter? For a moment, he allowed himself a sliver of hope that it might be something related to him, but his dismal side dismissed the thought. If it was related to him, it probably wasn't a good thing, anyways.

He watched her running and noticed how shaky her breathing was. Her eyes were a bit larger than he remembered them and she seemed desperate, a look of determination on her face. Then she did something he had never seen her do for almost an entire year- she began to fly. Not just to hover either, but she rose high into the air, taking a good look at the world from a bird's point of view. Wondering what could have possibly possessed her to leave the medical ward and start flying, he brought his bed closer to the window so that he could kneel comfortably as he watched.

She seemed to be looking for something, he noted with anticipation as she searched the previous battlefield. Secretly, he hoped she would find it, that she would discover the entrance in the caves, but even if she did, she was in no condition to fight, nor was he for that matter. Surely she could keep a good head and wait for backup before trying to go after Slade herself. He winced at that thought. Why didn't he do that? Looking back, there were so many ways that he could have done it differently, and now he was seeing that mirrored in her. It was quite the hard pill to swallow.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he had forgotten to keep track of the time. Disappointment coursed through his thoughts as a voice interrupted his spying. The voice, Slade of course, commanded him to report immediately. Sighing, he pulled himself back up on to his feet, trying to figure out what he was going to do about this. Sooner or later, Starfire was going to find them.

He walked down the hallway slowly and thoughtfully, immersed in his worries and thoughts. As he did so, he passed Wintergreen, who shot him a puzzled look as he passed. No doubt the old butler was wondering why in the world he was suddenly so lost in thought. Normally, he was just down and depressed. He smiled, which puzzled the butler even more, but he kept walking anyway.

Training with Slade was never easy. Usually it involved a lot of physical pain as well as five or six million taunts thrown into the lot, but he was so lost in thought he doubted the taunts would even be heard. Right now it was the fighting that concerned him. Even as he assumed a stance, he could feel the pain coursing through his lower back, and he knew it was going to be a long session. The two opponents faced each other and went at it.

Slade moved first, throwing a quick punch straight towards his face. Luckily, instincts kicked in and he was able to dodge the blow, even delivering a swift kick to the taller man's side. The blow did not come without a price, though, for his facial features were soon contorted with pain as his lungs tried to take in more air. The past fight had weakened him internally. His lungs had not fully recovered from the near suffocation. He was going to run out of stamina a lot sooner than he'd like. He side-stepped a punch, then ducked behind a nearby pillar to catch his breath.

He played defensively most of the time, making sure to keep his mouth shut the entire time, not wanting to waste any of his precious breath on taunting. So far he had managed to avoid any hard blows, although he had been in some close calls and he already bore a few bruises from lighter blows. Knowing that he was unable to fight offensively in his condition, he used his surroundings as tools, most of these pillars and machines were taking quite a beating from the blows that were supposed to be his.

Unfortunately, the fight was taking its toll. Perhaps if he had been allowed to heal for a while longer his lungs might not have been so weak and he could have given Slade a real fight, but this was not the case, and he was starting to feel it. His breathing became shorter and there was now a permanent pain in his chest from the labor it was just to breath. This gave Slade many golden opportunities. With no way to fight back without weakening himself, he soon found himself in the middle of a brutal beating. Left, right, left, right, the punches kept coming, and this time they were hitting their mark. Within the next few minutes, he was a bruised and battered mess. The only thoughts that his mind held were of pain, there was no room for anything else. This seemed to be a recurring theme in his life lately, he noticed ruefully as he attempted to get back up, but failed.

The blows kept coming, even though he could not fight back. He was a human punching bag now, suffering blow after blow to his sides, limbs, and a couple to his head. After what seemed like at least ten minutes, the blows ceased, and he could faintly hear a voice scoff, "Pathetic." Had he possessed the strength, he would have growled in response, but he couldn't even think clearly anymore. His life had fallen apart all in the space of a single year, and now he lay here, a miserable youth wasted by the evil doings of this man. Now, more than ever, he wanted to get out of this life.