RR76: Once again, I apologize for last chapter. Really, I didn't like it too much. I swear this one'll be better.

That said, lemme say this: This story isn't going to have fight scenes left and right like its predecessors. It's slower paced than TTGBITN and not as action packed as Carson, but I promise that when all's said and done, it'll be good. And there will be fight scenes. Damn good ones at that. But you have to wait for them. Okay? Okay.

I don't know if I've mentioned, but this story takes place a few weeks after The End (I'm talking to you SaintH, no offense man). So yeah.

Responses:

EMBER91: Oh...you don't? Um, well...then close your eyes later on.

im in a kill people mood: They'll steal your soul and eat your brain. Now there are a few demons that I don't mind. Lorne and Clem and Angelus for example.

Rory: ...you seriously, honest to Godly don't remember? ...Well, it was nothing. Meant a lot to me though. Turnful comments. Cool.

SaintH: You're too kind. Seriously, I freely acknowledge the suckiness factor of last chapter.

Not Present:

The Wild Ambition

Queenie

Screwy, ain't it? Well, I thought so anyway... For the record, I didn't invent Pavayne's name. His first name comes from a Roman general; his last name comes from a necromancer on an episode of Angel. Tried to suck Spike into Hell. Caused Spike to look disturbing. For those who've seen the episode (and aren't insane fangirls) you know what I mean.

WARNING: This chapter contains graphic depictions of freaky sex--er, Nazi death. You have been warned.

Don't own, don't sue. Yadda yadda, blah blah, yap yap, go to hell flamers. Read on.

Beast Boy yawned as he entered the living room of Titans' Tower. He entered the kitchen and glanced at the clock. 1:35. Heh, sweet. I'm the only one up right now. He poured a glass of soy milk and drank it down quickly. He headed for the couch, intent upon watching TV until the others woke up, when he saw the glow of the giant computer/TV. Now how'd I miss that? he wondered idly. He squinted and barely managed to make out the outline of a girl sitting in a chair that had been pulled from the kitchen, and a trace of violet hair. A sly grin came onto his face as he realized Raven hadn't noticed him come in. Silently, he tiptoed behind her, and flung his hands around her eyes. "Guess who!" he said, loud enough for Raven to hear but quiet enough so as not to wake the rest of the tower.

"Quit it Beast Boy," replied in her normal no-nonsense monotone. "Not in the mood."

"C'mon Raven, you know you love it when I do that," said Beast Boy, transforming into a cat and leaping onto her lap, nuzzling her stomach. Raven winced in pain and batted the feline off of her lap. Beast Boy went back to human form and looked up at the computer screen. "Raven, did--did that hurt?" he asked in surprise.

"Of course not," Raven said quickly. "I'm...just allergic to cat fur."

"One, no you aren't, two, allergies don't cause you pain. Even I know that. What happened?" Beast Boy asked, rising to his feet.

"I told you, nothing," Raven said through gritted teeth. "Now unless you need something, get out. I have work to do."

"Maybe I can help," Beast Boy offered. "I may not look like it, but I'm a whiz with computers."

Raven rolled her eyes. "Beast Boy, if I need help googling horny, barely legal Asian co-eds (a/n: a la my brother) I'll ask you."

"How did you find out about--uh, I mean...that was Cyborg!" Beast Boy snapped, blushing heavily. Raven tried to suppress a giggle, but couldn't. Beast Boy's ears perked up. "Hey, I made you laugh!"

"No you didn't," Raven said quickly. "I-um...was reading this funny joke online!"

Beast Boy gave a short laugh. "Yeah, right Raven. You reading jokes online is about as likely as Starfire going longer than 10 seconds without saying Robin's name.." He looked over her shoulder, trying to see what she was looking at. "Besides, if this is a joke site, it's the worst one I've ever seen. What's a 'Pavayne'?"

A hand shot out and wrapped itself around Beast Boy's jugular. He choked and looked at Raven. Her eyes had changed--for example, there were four of them and they were glowing red. "Do you really want to find out?" she snapped in a demonic voice. She blinked, and her eyes returned to normal. Slowly, she let go of Beast Boy's neck and let the hand drop to her side. She shut down the computer and stood up, knocking over her chair, and walked quickly to the door.

Beast Boy ran after her and took her arm in his hand. "Raven, talk to me. What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

"Leave me alone, Beast Boy," she snapped. "I have to meditate."

Beast Boy let go of her arm, only to jump into her path. "I'm not gonna leave you alone until you tell me what's wrong with you."

She brushed past him. "It's nothing. I can handle it on my own." She strode quickly down the hallway, and heard Beast Boy call after her "Just like your father? Could you handle that on your own too?" Without thinking, she reached out with her powers and sent him flying through the living room doorway. Raven turned and ran, not stopping until she was in her room with the door locked behind her. She breathed heavily and sat down on her bed. She stole a glance at her mirror and shuddered at the thought of having to use it again. She got into a lotus position and levitated slightly, softly chanting her mantra. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos...Azarath Metrion Zinthos...Azarath...Metrion...Zin..." She yawned and fell back on the bed, asleep before her head hit the pillow.

The basement was damp, musty, and infested by rodents. Hardly a suitable meeting place for the last remnants of the secret police of Germany, the S.S. Theirs was an order thought to be dead, but they had endured. Almost sixty years after their Führer's death, and they were still strong. Or at least alive. The leader sighed. Had the Führer had his way, he and his allies would be meeting in castles in Germany, not leaky basements in a crime-infested hellhole like Gotham City. The leader felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around--only to find himself staring down the barrel of a Colt .45 revolver.

"Guten Tag," a voice said. The trigger was pulled, and the S.S. leader's brains were splattered on the wall. The noise alerted his friends upstairs and they came rushing to avenge their fallen leader. And who did they find standing over his body? A scrawny 13 year old boy in a light grey flak jacket. They laughed heartily, and then stopped when the bullets started flying. They retreated up the stairs, and came face to face with a tall, muscular fellow of about 21. Several punches and dislocated limbs later, the S.S. members broke through and made a mad dash for the front door. Expecting safety, they flung open the door, and saw a sweet teenage girl of about 14 standing in their path. "Out of the way girl," one of the Nazis growled.

The girl smiled sweetly. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she said, punctuating her sentence with an innocent giggle.

"We'll do the talking then," another Nazi said, and rushed at her. The girl's smile turned from sweet to malicious, and in a split second she whirled around, drew a weapon that resembled a giant butcher's knife and decapitated the Nazi, watching with amusement as his head rolled down the sidewalk and into a manhole. The other Nazis screamed in horror and rushed back inside and saw the other two attackers blocking off the windows.

"Three against a dozen," the boy with the revolver said. "I like them odds."

"You wanna do the honors, birthday boy?" the girl said from behind the Nazi wannabes.

"Hmmm...nah," revolver guy said, drawing an old naval cutlass. "Three of us, twelve of them...four each then?"

"Deal," his cohorts said in unison, and an orgy of death and maiming ensued. Necks were snapped, heads rolled, and in thirty seconds flat, the combined might of the S.S. was no more than a pile of dismembered bodies and bloodstained carpet.

The girl stepped over the pile of gore to stand beside revolver guy. "You like your birthday present sweetie?"

Revolver guy grinned. "Worked like a charm. Thanks again Jess." He planted a kiss on the girl's lips, and their cohort groaned. "Do you always have to do that in front of me Carson? She's my sister for God's sake."

"Aw, shove it Warren," said Carson. "I can still kick your ass you know." He looked around at the bodies. "So, you think we got all of them?"

"Actually, you missed a couple making out in the bathroom," a deep voice said. The three turned to see the outline of a man standing in the hallway. "I didn't know there were any women here," said Jessica, examining the pile of gore for any sign of female presence.

"There aren't," the voice said with a hint of amusement. The three assassins "oh'd".

"So, I take it you're a fan of our work? Came for an autographed Nazi arm?" Warren asked, folding his arms. Carson and Jessica looked at him. "Leave the wit to us bro," said Jessica flatly. She turned back to the newcomer. "Now seriously, who the hell are you, and where do you get off doing our work for us?"

"Ah, where are my manners?" the man said, stepping out of the darkness. He was about 55, balding, with grey hair and a more salt-than-pepper goatee. He wore a purple robe with a clasp in the shape of an 'H'.

"Blood," he said. "Brother Blood, assistant headmaster of H.I.V.E Academy, at your service."

"H.I.V.E.?" Carson asked with bemusement. "Sorry, not interested in going to school, thanks. We prefer to not let the educational system run our lives."

"Indeed?" Brother Blood asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. So why don't you just mosey on back to Jump City and your little boarding school for sociopath teens and tell your headmaster to shove take his scholarships and shove them up his--"

"I didn't come to ask you to join the academy," said Brother Blood, "although if I wanted to, I could force you. Nor did I come under the influence of the headmaster. I came because I personally have a job for you."

Carson shut his mouth and Warren stepped forward. ", for one, am interested. So tell us, Brother Blood, what do you desire of us?"

Jessica rolled her eyes. "I swear Warren; sometimes you say the dumbest things..."

"I want you to eliminate an opponent of mine. He used to work for me, back in the day. Fate and circumstance combined to take him away from my service. He rose to prominence and became the headmaster of H.I.V.E. I'm sure you know where I'm going with this," Brother Blood explained.

"Okay, so you want us to do the dirty work for you and murder your boss. That we can handle," said Carson in a businesslike tone. "What's the pay?"

"My offer stands at $500," Blood said, sitting back on the couch. Carson folded his arms. "We get paid more to scoop out the cat box for the little old lady down the street," he said flatly, eliciting a chuckle from his teammates.

"I'm sorry, let me clarify: $500 each."

"Yeah, $500 sounds good," said Carson quickly. "So, anything we should know about him? Short, tall, thin, fat, allergic to goose down?"

Brother Blood smiled. "He's big, powerful, and evil, though a bit of a coward. He has other...shall we say, people...fight his battles for him, and is fairly weak in hand to hand combat. I'll bring you in, saying that the three of you are new prospects for the academy. You three can take it from there."

Carson extended his hand and Brother Blood took it and they shook on it (That rhymes!) "Deal," said Carson. "So, out of curiosity...what's your bosses' name?"

A smile appeared on Brother Blood's lips. "His name," he said softly "is Pavayne."

Raven sat bolt upright in her bed, breathing heavily. The sheets around her were cold and damp. I sure hope that's sweat, she thought sarcastically. She rubbed her forehead and moaned at the splitting headache. Her eyes found her mirror and she levitated it over to her. She stared into it and let it absorb her into the dark, creepy world of her mind.

"Hello?" she called out. "Anyone here? Timid? Happy? Brave? Rude? Anger? Wisdom? Knowledge?" She waited for a reply, but none came.

"Good," she said softly, and fell to her knees and cried her eyes out. She cried for everything--she cried for bringing Trigon into the world, she cried for the Ascension, whatever the hell that was, she cried for the fact that her crush probably hated her now. She cried for all the pain she had endured in her entire life, all the suffering, all the emotion that she had bottled up inside all this time. She cried for it all.

She felt a comforting hand, distinctly male, on her shoulder. Forgetting where she was, Raven assumed it was Cyborg or Robin. She sniffed and looked up with a smile on her face, getting that warm fuzzy feeling she often got (but never acknowledged) when her friends came to comfort her when she was lonely. The smile fell away and she scrambled to her feet and backed away.

The black clothed and clearly not dead form of Carson Elam greeted her.

"Hello cutie," he said.

RR76: Ooooooh...he's back! Now review please. And hey, I don't get the suckiness vibe from this chapter. I think it was...unsucky. Cool! Tell me what you think!