A/N: Yet another update for My Personal Hell. This is going to be the first chapter that won't be from a character's POV because I can't do fight scenes in first-person. Or nightmare scenes. Anyway, I know where the plot's going. Yes, I'm going to be talking about BB's time as Slade's apprentice. It'll be a while before he sees the Titans again, and I just wanted to give that impression. But don't worry! It'll still be as interesting as I can make it.
A/N: And about what Diable said in the last chapter. He's the homophobe. I can't find a thing wrong with homosexuality, although Diable obviously can. And there is a warning of slight Slade OoC-ness. And I'm taking the italics that I had for Diable's French name off because I found it useless. And I hate my computer: it doesn't let me do multiple exclamation marks anymore.

ubermann: I don't know who the unknown is going to be, but it definitely won't be Terra; because when the story started, she was with Slade (hinthint for this chappy). This probably started right before Aftershock, so I'm gonna rewrite history, won't that be fun – or a complete pain in the ass.

ShadeyMike: Yep, it's Slade, the misunderstood father figure. If you wanted a reference, I'd say look at the Wizard from the play Wicked: he wanted to be a father. He loved being adored by the citizens so much – as much as Slade loves being feared, I guess – so he plays along with what the others think of him and what he can do. He seems to be something he's not – in the Wizard's case good, in Slade's case evil. But don't you fret your (pretty?) little head about it. He's going to be the same stoic, one-eyed fighter that we all know – but don't necessarily love.

ANGLEOZD: thank you! Here's your update!

vinnie the geek: Birdboy, eh? Hmm, possibly. You know, I had thought of that. Hmm … (have you noticed I do that 'hmm ...' thing a lot with you? It's your fault!) 'Slade's School for Dysfunctional Kids with Superpowers', eh? I like it. Can I get a whoop whoop? (And a trademark symbol, hehe). Yeah, I knew about the typos …

sumo bunny: Thank you! … I think I sent you an e-mail, didn't I?

Dark Magician of Chaos: Interesting? Aww, shucks, I don't know what it is! All I know is that I love reviews! (does the review dance)

To those who didn't review: Meet my dog, Wrex. Wrex, meet lunch. Run! Run from my doggie!

Disclaimer: See chapter one. And I don't own bloodoaks or terry vines; they're owned by Paul Stewart, and are a part of the Edge Chronicles, some of the most awesomest (I had to enunciate that somehow) books ever, which I don't own either.

My Personal Hell

Chapter Two: Borderline

"There is good, and there is evil. But the line between them can be almost impossible to find."
- Robin, 'X'

There was a slurping noise. A vine wrapped itself around his foot. It pulled gently. "Huh?" he slurred, looking down at the green plant. "What do you want?" he asked drowsily, watching it warily. It tugged again, more persistently. "What d'ya want?" he asked again, the slur in his voice more pronounced. It merely pulled harder. He tried his hardest to remain still, but the next tug was too strong, bringing his feet out from underneath him. His fingers dug into the ground, pulling him towards the trees he hadn't noticed before that stood in the center of the nearby clearing. Another tendril wrapped around his other leg. This one was thicker and bared down its length; barbs that he noticed were digging into his leg, drawing blood. He gasped as pain overwhelmed his senses, causing him to clutch his leg and whimper. That was when he spotted the knife lying on the ground next to him.

Quickly, he grabbed the weapon and began cutting at the thick vine. 'This seems familiar,' he mused grimly as he hacked at the plant. Other vines, just as thick and sharp as the one he was hacking at, came and wound themselves up both his legs. He found himself being pulled forcefully in the direction of a very large tree.

Pilled at the base of the tree were thousands upon thousands of corpses. Big ones, small one, some that looked like they were fresh, flesh still hanging off the bones, others looked like they had been there for a long time, the bones wearing away. At the top of the hill stood the cloaked figure he recognized from his dream. He stared as it approached the tree and petted it as thought it were a large dog. "Are you hungry?" it asked soothingly. He could almost see its sadistic smile as it turned to face him. "Don't worry. I have just the thing for you. Something that hurt us so badly it deserves to be dead." He could feel it glaring at him.

The vines yanked on him again. He found himself soaring through the air. He came to a swinging halt over the top of the tree. A scent wafted over him, overpowering his senses. It was the atrocious stench of blood and rotted flesh. He gagged emptily. He bent his head to look at the source of the stench. The tree's mouth was lined with thousands of large, pointed teeth, which were arranged in a wide circle. Its mouth was a large crimson gorge that lead straight downwards. The tree slobbered noisily, eagerly awaiting its next meal: him.

He swayed in the breeze, hanging upside down above the bloodthirsty tree, and it had complete power over when he would fall. It held his life in its tendrils, ready to drop it at the slightest sudden movement. The cloaked figure came up beside the tree. "How does it feel, to know your doom, pain and suffering is inevitable? How does it feel to know pain and suffering will plague you from now until you die? How does it feel?" he opened his mouth to respond, when the figure interrupted him. "No, I don't want to hear it from you: your screams will be answer enough. You forget, I know your pain." And with that, the tree dropped him.

He tumbled down through the air for a second, flipping over to be right side up, when he felt himself land in the tree's throat. The tree's teeth clashed dangerously close to his head, nearly hitting him. He felt a pressure on his lungs as the air was forced out of them. Only his head was exposed to the world, the rest of his body inside the tree's throat. His head was covered in the plant's saliva. He felt himself sliding under …

… under …

… under …

… under …

… until he was in the complete darkness of the tree's throat.

The intensity of the blood's stench was intoxicating. He couldn't stand it. The pressure on his bones was causing them to crack. He couldn't breathe, he could barely move. Whenever he did inhale, it was spasmodic, rapidly, and he only got the smallest amount of air. Though he knew there was a chance that someone might hear him, he refused to scream. That would just make it worse.

There was a loud CRR-RAA-AKK! as his bones snapped. First his arm, then several of his ribs, followed by one of his legs. For each bone that broke, there was a sickening crack, just like the first time. It sent shivers up his spine and waves of pain throughout his body. Darkness seeped into the edges of his vision, but he refused to scream. He didn't want to give the cloaked figure the pleasure of knowing the pain it was causing him.

C-CRR-RAA-AAAKK!

Several more of his ribs snapped, followed by his remaining arm. He whimpered, biting his lip to keep the screams from forcing their way out of his mouth. There was a final, blood curdling, unbelievable loud and painful CRRR-RRAAA-AAAKK!, and he knew his neck had snapped. The figure's maniacal laughter was drowned out by his painful screams.

Beast Boy hit the floor with a thud as he cried out in pain. His back, arms, and one leg were on fire. He gasped, breathing heavily as sweat trickled down his neck and shoulders. His eyes wide, he glanced around the room. He felt his stomach lurch. He heavily lifted his body off the floor, using the bed to help bring himself to a stand. He breathed deeply through his nose, but it was no use. The bloodthirsty tree's stench was still fresh in his mind and nose. Overcome by a sudden wave on nausea, he staggered into the bathroom.

Leaning heavily on the bathtub, he leaned over the toilet. He heaved, his last meal leaving his stomach. He continued this until his stomach was completely empty, and he was gagging emptily over the toilet with his throat burning and tears were welling up in his eyes from the pain. His body shook, his hands trembled, and his legs could barely support his weight. He moved to the sink, turning on the tap and drinking directly from it. He then turned off the tap and dropped to the floor.

He groaned, crawling on his hands and knees back to his bed. He pulled himself onto it. He looked over to his bedside table. From it, he picked up a novel entitled, Beyond the Deepwoods and glared at it accusingly. "'S all your fault," he told it, his voice little more than a slurred whisper. Now he knew why the dream had seemed so familiar. Putting the nightmare-inducing book the Helena had given him back on the table, he closed his eyes and was immediately asleep.

But what if it wasn't the book that had given him the nightmare?

-------------

The pounding on the door was what woke him from his dreamless slumber. "Beast Boy?" a voice called, "you have to get up if you're in there." More pounding and a slight creak as the door swung open about a foot. "Beast Boy, if you're here you're going to hafta get out of bed sometime today." There was a pause in which Helena walked over to the bed. "Beast Boy?" she asked gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. She moved so that he mouth was right next to his ear, her gentle breath tickling his neck. She took a deep breath. "YOU'VE GOT TO GET UP NOW!"

With a jolt, Beast Boy sat up, only to fall off his bed. "Oww …" he groaned, rolling onto his back. "What was that for?" he asked groggily.

"You have to get up," answered Helena, walking over to the chair where he'd left his uniform from the previous night. He glared at the telekinetic girl. Not that she could tell, seeing as he was still wearing his mask. It was made even harder to see by the fact that she threw his shirt and pants over his head.

Beast Boy angrily pulled his uniform off his head. "Who gets up at …" he looked at the clock. "Five o'clock in the morning!"

Helena smirked. "You were asking for it when you decided to stay," she told him as he pulled his pants on. "I'll be outside. I'll show you the way to the kitchen."

Once his uniform was on, he walked out into the hall. Beast Boy followed Helena down a maze of twisting tunnels and winding passageways until they reached the magnificent dining room. Its high-arched windows allowed large amounts of sunlight to pour into the main part of the room. The table was about two-thirds of the length of the room, and was made of solid black wood. Seated around it were Diable, Alexis, Terry, and a somewhat familiar blonde girl …

Diable waved from his spot near the table's head. "I saved you a seat," he said. Beast Boy walked over and sat in the offered chair. Diable passed him a plate that consisted of an apple, orange juice, and a piece of toast.

"Erm, thanks," Beast Boy said awkwardly.

The blonde looked up from her seat and watched the newcomer with hollow, blue eyes. Her curtain of hair swayed with her head movement. He sounded so familiar … but it was nothing to dwell on. She had left of her own free will. It was her fault. She stared down at her plate, tears silently streaming down her face. She sniffed, and the volume of her soft sobs intensified ever so slightly. However, the table's occupant's heard her.

Helena noticed Beast Boy's discomfort. "Don't worry 'bout it," she said, her voice amazingly coherent through her mouthful of pancakes. "Blondie has her little breakdowns all the time. You learn to ignore them," she assured him. Beast Boy, however, couldn't ignore the noise. It thundered through his head. It echoed through his skull. The soft wails became increasingly irritating, harder and harder to listen to –

He growled fiercely, thoroughly annoyed. Long, sharp claws extended through his gloves with a soft riiipp and embedding themselves in the delicate wood below. The blonde's tears stopped. Everyone looked up at him. He blushed, and futilely began to try to remove his nails from the table. Futilely, of course. No matter how hard he pulled, his nails stuck fast.

The blonde sniffed. She watched as the newcomer breathed in deeply, and was shocked when she saw the five-inch nails retract into his fingers, slowly but surely. For the first time, she looked him over thoroughly. She'd thought it was just his hair that was green at first, but now that she looked closer, she noticed the skin on the other parts of his face were green as well. His eyes were impossible to see – if not because of the mask he wore, then because he kept his eyes averted.

There was a creak as the door was slowly pushed open, allowing Slade to enter. He stood in front of the doorway, watching the group eat breakfast. Once he was sure he had their attention, he motioned for Terrance, Diable, Helena, Alexis, and the blonde to follow him, leaving Beast Boy all by his lonesome.

After a few minutes of silence, the door was opened again. This time, a middle-aged, pale man stepped towards the table in a plain, white lab coat. His footsteps echoed around the chamber. He stopped in front of Beast Boy. "So," he began casually. Beast Boy looked up. "You're Slade's new apprentice," the man finished.

Beast Boy nodded. "And you're?"

"Wintergreen," the man said, holding out a hand for the changeling to shake. Warily, the changeling took the hand in his own. "Master Slade wishes for me to take you to the weapons room," Wintergreen explained.

Beast Boy had to jog to keep up with the elderly man's fast pace. "Weapons room? What's that?"

Wintergreen sniffed. "It's a room with weapons in it. I thought that would be obvious."

Beast Boy shook his head. "No, I mean, why?"

Wintergreen appeared to be assessing him, as if deciding if he was worth the knowledge he was about to share with him. Finally, he said, "Do you honestly think that you would be able to use your powers for all the fighting you do? All fighters have to be trained in many fighting styles to be well-rounded." And with that, Wintergreen was back to moving down the hallway via his march-like gait, leaving Beast Boy to catch up with him.

-------------

The weapons room was more like a weapons house/museum. It had every sort of weapon, from the maces of the time of the knights of yore, to the primitive spears of the cavemen, to the machine guns of the time. Every single one of them glinted with polish, most likely courtesy of Wintergreen. A lance's fine wood point gleamed in the half-light, looking like it had been recently used because of its red tint. A scythe's curved head glinted a wicked crimson all along its blade and partially down the handle.

Beast Boy shivered. The room was beginning to creep him out. And he had come face-to-face with Plasmius. He slowly walked through the center of the room until he was standing next to Wintergreen. The elderly man surveyed the medley of weaponry until finally choosing a black, metal spear. Carefully, he pulled it off the wall and lifted its butt to eye-level. Deeming it … um, whatever he deemed it, he handed it to Beast Boy.

"Have you learned spear craft?" Wintergreen asked, watching as Beast Boy did an examination of his own.

Beast Boy, who was spinning the spear expertly in the same manner that Robin twirled his bo staff, nodded absent-mindedly. "When I was living in a small village in Africa as a child, my dad taught me the basics."

Wintergreen smiled, but only ever so slightly. "As soon as Slade returns, your training will commence."

-------------

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The abandoned warehouse downtown was normally unoccupied during the average early morning. It was so silent that you could hear the water dripping slowly down from the ceiling. Of course, with Slade using it as a meeting point, it wouldn't be silent for long.

Slade surveyed the teens before him. On first glance, they looked – and sounded – the part for your average teen movie: the gay, the foreign guy, the Gothic chick, the tomboy, and the traumatized girl. But, for all it was worth, if you bet that, Slade was definitely getting you money, because they were closer then the closest friends. Their bond was almost a sibling one. They bickered, spent endless hours watching movies together, and sometimes just hung out in each others' rooms.

Terrance, who would be the gay, appeared anything but. He was trained in the arts of dark magic, summoning, and illusion-conjuring. Diable, appearing as the foreign guy, was obviously not American. He had a thick French accent, but despite it spoke very accurate English. He was a master at his craft, pyrokinesis. Helena, your average Goth, was a telekinetic, levitator, and a mind-reader. Technically, she cheated by knowing her enemy's moves before they did, but that had little effect on her concience. And Alexis, the tomboy. A meta-human blessed with super strength; she could take on a panicked bull elephant and come out on top in a mater of minutes. Last, there was the blonde. Slade disliked her immensely. He hated even thinking about her. She was just so …

For the first time, he addressed the team. "Alexis, you and Helena are to take the north end of town. Raid as many shops as you like, heaven know you could do with a new wardrobe," he added in a sarcastic mutter. At this, Helena stuck her tongue out at him. "Diable, you take the East. Terrance, the west." He turned to the blonde. "You, take the bay."

"What is it, Slade, I'm not good enough for you tosay my name?" the blonde asked.

Slade faced her one last time before answering. "No. I just have an appointment."

"With whom?" she asked, sounding only slightly more curious then impudent.

Slade walked away, calling behind him, "My new apprentice."

-------------

Thrust, lunge, twist, kick, step, and swipe. Punch, dodge, slide, and swipe.

That's what Beast Boy hated about improvised training routines. They never really helped in the field.

Beast Boy was in the training room Wintergreen had taken him to after giving him the spear. He was practicing as much as he could remember of the routine his father had taught him with a serious, stubborn look on him face. He swung the spear round and kicked, before ducking, rolling, and coming around with a slice of the staff that would have taken out his enemy's knees. He then came around with a blow that would have concussed his opponent, and most likely knocked them out.

As he stood, he heard a voice address him. "Very nicely done, apprentice," reached his ears in Slade's unmistakable drawl. He didn't respond, having a feeling that that wasn't all that Slade had to say. "Of course, it was only excellent by a beginner's standards," Slade continued. "But you do have potential. With further training, you could probably take on Batman, and maybe even be a worthy opponent for Terrance." Slade paused, perhaps to ponder the finish of this statement, or perhaps just for effect. Either way, he finished with, "And possibly me."

Beast Boy turned to see Slade resting by the door, his bo staff resting lightly in his hand. The masked man made his way lazily across the floor, taking long, easy strides that would have looked somewhat unreal or exaggerated on anyone else. Anyone else. Slade made the movement natural – dark, sinister, malevolent even, but natural nonetheless.

In what seemed like an elongated instant, Slade was standing directly before Beast Boy. He nodded towards his apprentice's spear and took a ready position, legs spread, with one slightly in front of the other, and arms raised, his bo staff ready to block any attacks on his torso. "All I want you to do is fight back. Don't use your powers; just fight as hard as you can, for as long as you can." And with that, Slade attacked.

Beast Boy barely had time to doge before the fist connected with the wall behind him. He brought his spear up only to find that Slade was lashing in from the side. He brought his spear up to block it, but he was too slow. The bo staff hit him in the side, knocking the wind out of him. It caused him to fall, but it gave him ample time to roll out from under Slade's downward strike. There was an empty clang! as his master's weapon hit the tiled floor.

Beast Boy leaned on his palm, using it to push his body upright. But he was too slow. Slade grabbed his right arm and flung him about, his momentum hurling him into the far wall. But in a second he was back on his feet, and was charging at Slade. He raised his staff sideways, so that instead of trying to pierce his master, he would end up with their weapons locked. With a muffled klang! the weapons collided, Slade's staff above Beast Boy's. Slade forced the smaller male to his knees, before kneeing Beast Boy in the chest and effectively knocking the wind out of him.

"Oomph," Beast Boy gasped as he fell on his back. He rolled away from Slade's next downward attack a second before it would have hit. Slade followed up, hitting Beast Boy on the side of his head, nearly knocking him out. Clutching his bruised temple, Beast Boy dashed in a four-legged lope across the room, Slade walking behind him in lazy, yet fluid and steady movements, a slight smile on his face. Slade watched, amused, as his apprentice brought himself to his feet, ready for another attack. Beast Boy's eyes dashed to the spear a few feet from him. Slade registered the movement, and figured his plan several seconds before its initiation.

Slade didn't flinch as his apprentice feinted to the right before following through with a fluid lunge to the left. But instead of bypassing him master, like he had planned, he found himself pushed against the wall, his cheek rubbing against the cold stone. Slade had Beast Boy's arm twisted behind his back, and his other pinned beneath his knee. The twisted arm could snap at any moment, Beast Boy registered. He pulled his arm towards where Slade's hand gripped the ready-to-break arm. Slade noticed his apprentice's intentions, but misread them. Using his forearm to pin the twisted arm down, he grabbed the slinking arm by the hand. Beast Boy managed a half grin. He'd gotten lucky, he knew, as he unleashed his long claws into his master's flesh.

Slade jerked back in surprise, a yelp of pain escaping his lips. In a second, Beast Boy had whirled around, his fist connecting with Slade's mask where his cheekbone would have been. Slade stumbled further backwards before righting himself. This gave Beast Boy just enough time to grab his spear and bring it to a ready position. Slade, after pausing only for a brief second before lunging, brought his weapon down to meet his apprentice's. This time, Beast Boy didn't fall to his knees, but rather twisted the staff away from his master's grip, sending it flying across the room. For a brief moment, Beast Boy thought that victory was in sight. Then, to his horror, he realized that Sladehad his bo staff in his iron grasp, well it was his spear that had been sent careening into the wall.

Slade lunged, his fist poised for attack. Feebly, Beast Boy raised his arms to block. But it was proved futile as Slade landed blow after blow after blow. Beast Boy was kicked into the wall, punched in the stomach, thrown to the floor. There was a sickening crack! as his elbow hit the floor. Possibly it was broken. He heaved himself up, using his arm as a support, yelping loudly when Slade grabbed said damaged elbow to pull him roughly to his feet. The stoic, pale blue eye bored into his soul. "And you were doing so well," his master murmured, and Beast Boy flinched. Hell was coming.

A black-clad fist was raised, and there was a millisecond pause as Slade assessed the correct angle. Then the fist snapped forward, causing Beast Boy's head to jerk backwards. His master released the front of his uniform, allowing him to fall to the floor limply, cradling his broken elbow. Slade eyed the beaten green being before him impassively. His pivoted, leaving the apprentice alone with a forced, "we're done here for today." Those words barely made their way through Beast Boy's confused brain as he tried to hold in sobs.

"You lasted longer then some."

Beast Boy looked up, spotting the watcher for the first time. Wintergreen stood at the doorway. He looked like he was considering applauding, but his face was emotionless. He came forward, and helped the broken apprentice to his feet. "Come now, we'll have you fixed up not a moment too soon," he muttered comfortingly, allowing the apprentice to fall into a peaceful slumber as he carried him to the infirmary.

-------------

The Mall at the north end of Jump City was a rather large place. It was filled with over a dozen shops of each kind of business: traveling, cooking, bookstores. Not to mention the sheer number of clothing lines would make your average shopaholic believe that they'd died and gone to heaven. Normally, there were hundreds of people there, even during the weekdays. Thus, it was very odd that the Mall was empty on a Sunday, when it was normally at its peak of business. Well, it wasn't exactly empty. There were two people there. One was a tall, tan girl with oily black hair and dark green eyes walked out, stylish, hip-hugger jean fitted on his plain figure. She stood outside Hot, obviously waiting for a companion.

Alexis tapped her foot angrily. "Helena, you've been in there for eternity and a day. What in God's name are you looking for!" She yelled impatiently.

"I'm just trying this skirt on."

"You said that an hour ago."

"That was a different skirt."

Alexis huffed, annoyed. "Look, as much as I love wasting my life like this," sarcasm, "We have a job to do."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, kick Titan ass to Kingdom Come. But really, Daddy said I could get a new wardrobe."

"Cut the 'Daddy said' crap and get out here! They could be here any minute." As if to emphasize this, Alexis looked back and forth around the mall pointedly. But there was still obviously no one there.

"Okay, I'm coming," Helena said, walking out of the store. She was still clad in her uniform, but there was a bag under her arm. "But they're not going to be able to come after us for a while now, seeing as they're down one teammate, and they're probably not going to split up."

There was a beeping noise. Alexis fished a plain, black cell phone out of her pocket. It was custom design, as anyone with eyes could tell. And there was a crimson 'S' figure emblazoned on its back. She flipped it open and watched the video screen. A face appeared on it. Helena looked on from behind Alexis's shoulder.

"Hi, Daddy," she addressed Slade in an exaggeratedly-happy voice.

Slade managed to glare at Helena. "Do enjoy annoying me?" Helena stuck her tongue out. Slade sighed. "Where are you?"

"At the center of the Mall, like you told us," said Alexis, her face serious.

"Come on, Do you have to be so serious all the time?" Helena asked.To emphasize what a bore Alexis was, she stepped back and began to twirl around the room. There was no joyful smile on her face, though. Alexis could tell that she was taking this seriously.

"Quit your dancing, your embarrassing me," Alexis ordered.

Helena grinned half-heartedly. "I'm embarrassing myself," she admitted sheepishly.

Slade smiled slightly, glad to see his 'daughter' having fun. "Have the Titans arrived yet?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Let us answer that for you," a voice from the shadows mocked. Out stepped the four remaining Teen Titans. Robin stood at the head of the formation, his bo staff poised for battle. Starfire floated behind him, her fisted hands glowing green because of the starbolts she was ready to fire. Cyborg had his sonic cannon raised, charging loudly. Raven floated above them, her hands covered with dark energy.

Helena smirked. "Well, did you come here to stare, or do you want." A several stores ripped themselves out of the building's structure, causing it to teeter dangerously. "To." Helena pulled her arms back, and the buildings followed her movements, ready to strike the Titans. "Dance!" she shouted, trusting her arms forward. The buildings flew at the teenaged superheroes.

The Titans barely managed to dive out of the way, but the buildings missed them and flew through the far wall to the outside. Starfire was the first up. She lunged at Alexis, using her Tamaranean strength against the girl. Instead of going to her knees as Starfire had thought she would, Alexis not only matched Starfire, she managed to throw Starfire through the opening in the wall.

Meanwhile, Raven had unsuccessfully tried to attack Helena. It almost seemed like a game, the way one of them would throw an object and the other would block it with a shield. Helena took Raven by surprise when she threw several vending machines at Cyborg as well. Raven didn't manage a shield in time, resulting in the both of them being buried in pop cans.

Robin lunged at Alexis, but she caught the blow, and although Robin was on guard, Alexis was at least ten times stronger then a raging bull elephant. She threw him clean across the room.

Helena and Alexis regrouped in a far-off corner of the mall. Alexis whipped open her cell phone/communicator. "How are Terry and Diable fairing?" she asked.

"They have their part of the plan done. They're ready to meet the Titans. Split them up." Slade ordered.

Both girls nodded. "Alexis, you find Diable. I'll take the rest of them to Terry. And let's hope that the tower is taken care of before they catch us," Helena turned away, levitating several feet above the ground. She paused. She turned back to the other girl. "Be careful." And with that, she was gone.

-------------

Diable laughed. His dark laughter mingled with the screams of terrified citizens. In truth, he was enjoying himself. Nothing gave him a bigger thrill then the adrenaline rush he got from attacking the possibilities of being caught. The possibility that he could be tortured to talk.

Fires blazed around him. The heat was consuming. The towering walls of flame were all around. The burning structures, teetering, groaning, threatening to topple down on him. Well, their threats fell on deaf ears. Diable had a resistance to flames – to a certain extent. He didn't enjoy thinking about that. It was like knowing that you student had more power then you and could kill you in an instant – and the order would have came from you. Then the student would tear you limb from limb, and all you'd be able to smell was charred flesh, only hear you bloodcurdling shrieks, only see the white-hot flames as the burnt away at your soul …

Inadvertently, Diable shuddered. He was pulled out of his reverie by a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Alexis waiting for him, fanning herself with her hands. "How can you stand all this heat?" she asked in obvious discomfort. Diable ignored her whining, concentrating on the approaching figures in the distance. There were two of them; one fly high above the other's head, her hands glowing green in the smoke. The other was large and muscled, running at top speed, his head whipping furiously left and right.

Diable frowned. Titans, he thought, his mind hissing. Jealousy raged. How could they be bigger freaks then him! He had saved more people then they ever would … But it didn't matter. They loved the Titans, the beautiful alien, the angst-ridden half-demon, the car-loving cyborg, and their circus-reject leader. And, of course, the fun-loving changeling. For the first time, Diable smiled at the thought of the Titans – or rather, the thought of the Titans' reactions to Beast Boy crossing the line. When he did. There was no if in it. Slade would get to the green boy – it was only a matter of time before either Slade – or the boy's nightmares – broke him.

That's right. Slade was right. Patience was a virtue. So Diable would wait, as would Alexis. Wait for the Titans to come to them – to find them. Exhausted a weary, they would stumbled across them, to tired to fight from the flames' pressing heat. Then they would be dead. Or so I hope, Diable thought wryly, pulling Alexis up the stair of a burning building, and praying that it wouldn't collapse.

-------------

Terrance watched the moving shadows. He watched them draw nearer. The dark Titan, he knew, possessed demon magic – that could be a problem. The boy wonder would cause trouble to – unless he used a little spell here, a little hex there …

Unfortunately, he couldn't bring himself to do that to Robin. He tried to imagine torturing the boy, time and time again, to prove he didn't care, but those daydreams turned into … wet, daydreams, he guessed. Wet daydreams in the shower. And normally, it was more torturous for him, seeing as he stopped the dreams when they were getting good. He would moan, and thrust, dreaming of those calloused hands running along his body, and feel that he was betraying his master and his friends – and the changeling would feel that it was weird, him having a crush on one of the green boy's past friends. Being homosexual had outcasted him enough, but having a crush on the Titans' straight leader, well, that was just wishful dreaming.

He buried himself deeper in the shadows after hearing Raven's voice address Robin, "Well, she's not here. That little witch tricked us." The girl was trying – and failing – to hide her anger. A nearby garbage can twisted on itself, surrounded by black energy.

"No Raven, I know she went this way – into the alley." Robin couldn't have known that this simple statement caused Terry's heart to skip a beat – then speed up to an unbelievable pace. Robin, the boy wonder, was going to come into the alley he was in. He was probably going to end up fighting said boy wonder – and what a wonder he was –

Terry shook his head, unwilling to let himself think such thoughts. The sixteen-year-old crouched back further in the shadows, waiting for either Helena or Alexis. He realized that it was the former when silver energy – Helena's telekinesis – surrounded a lamppost and threw it at the pair of them. Robin jumped out of the way, while Raven created a shield around herself. The lamppost rebounded of the shield, Helena just catching it before it hit her. Raven threw a newspaper stand at the other telekinetic with a yelled, "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!"

People ran, screaming, in every direction imaginable, not wanting to be hit be a flying object gone astray. Robin ran towards the dark girl, intent on helping her, when Terry decided it was time to make his move. He lunged at the Titans' leader, throwing his weight on the smaller teenager. They tussled, punching at each other, rolling across the street all the while. They bumped into a building after a while, bringing their fight to a pause, as Terry realized something. Oh, Gods …

They were in a very compromised position – Terry straddling the boy wonder, sitting on him just above the abdomen … Terry fell off Robin, unwilling to give his sexual fantasies a chance to kick in. Robin was confused, but decided to pass it off as good luck. The two of them quickly took up their fighting stances. "You came looking for a fight?" Robin asked, a smirk forming on his lips.

And what delicious lips they are, Terry thought. "'Cause I definitely found one?" He mocked, and was delighted to see the boy wonder frown, even if it wasn't a pout, he lips were still delicious. "Really, Robin, you need to think of better one-liners," he paused before adding, "But you couldn't think up could one-liners to save your life, could you?" He wanted to see if that would piss the boy wonder off.

It didn't. But Robin still charged at him, staff raised. Terry chanted a shield spell, happy with the shocked expression on Robin's face when his weapon met with the sparkling guard. Immediately, Terry brought his foot around in a powerful kick, sending Robin back several feet. He had also successfully knocked the boy wonder's staff away. "Come on, Robin, is that all you've got?" Terry asked mockingly.

He would continue to pull at the boy wonder's strings. Slade always said Robin was quick to rise to the bait. Most of the time he was calm and controlled, but when you got him riled up, you had better watch out. He would bait, throw snide remarks, and hopefully, the boy wonder would be baited into bringing out his full potential. Because Terry wanted to go against Robin at his finest, to prove to Slade that he was better then Batman's protégé, and would always be, dark magic or no dark magic.

-------------

He was walking along a thin line, and both sides were chanting at him. The line was painted along the ground, and was the same color as the dirt, so he had to look very hard to spot it. On both sides of there were two opposing armies, holding banners high above their heads.

He looked to his left. Standing there, waiting for him, were Terry, Helena, Diable, Alexis, and Slade. They watched him. With them stood Red X, Jinx, Gizmo (wasn't he dead? He mused thoughtfully), Trident, Cinderblock, Overload, Trigon … the list of villains went on and on. The banner they supported had intricate, delicate writing on it, proclaiming, Fighting for a Selfish Cause. Beast Boy was confused for a second, before remembering villains did things that benefited for them and them only.

He looked to his right. Standing there, watching his passage with hurt, begging eyes, were Robin, Raven , Starfire, Cyborg, Aqualad, Speedy, Hotshot, Wildebeast, Static, Batman, Wonder Woman, Superman, Green Lantern, the Flash, Hawkgirl … the vigilantes went on forever, many of which he didn't recognize. The banner they held proclaimed, Fighting for a Hopeless Cause. This took him longer to figure out, but he realized that no matter how many villains the heroes lock away, they'd never catch all the wrongdoers.

"Don't you see Beast Boy?" a voice asked. He looked up. Standing in front of him was a creature with green skin, wide dragon wings, and a long, spiked tail. Its eyes glowed in the darkness.

"Don't I see what?" Beast Boy asked, confused.

"You think you've been I the line the whole time, but there isn't a line! You've just been keeping away from both sides!" The figure yelled. The sudden outburst alarmed Beast Boy, seeing as he had thought the figure was a calm person. "You need to choose a side, because wake up! There is no border, there is no line, just two groups opposing each other, and everyone who gets in the way." It walked forward, down where Beast Boy had though the line would be. "So hurry up and make that decision: you don't have all eternity."

Beast Boy blinked. He guessed it was right. There was no line, just to sides fighting for opposing causes.

And he needed to pick one.


A/N: So, what do you think? I like it, especially Terrance's part. So, should I go back to first person, or keep the rest of the fic in third? Don't hurt me, I was only experimenting. But summer's finally here, and guess what that means? QUICKER UPDATES! Whoot! So, you know what to do: click that pretty little button and tell what you think, otherwise I won't know.