(I hope every one likes this… it took forever to write. Oh and if you have a sugestion for a family, let me know in a reveiw. Thanks everybody.)
Thanks to:
Dana1313—thanks I appreciate your support. And I'm glad that you like the story so far.
Trillinka—I should dedicate a chapter or story to you. You are without a doubt my most faithful reviewer. Much love.
Soaring-bright-flame—Thanks' I hope I did a better job with detail in this chapter. I tried after I read your review, and don't worry, I can't spell it either. (By the way, your new story is awesome! I love it)
True-Geek99—of course she's leaving… you didn't think that I could name a story Separation Anxiety and not have her leave did you? Thank you and I'm glad that you like the story and I hope to update more regularly so you should be nice and sane to read.
Sparrowing—thanks, I hope you're not disappointed with this.
On with the show, and if I didn't mention it, I don't own the Teen Titans, I do how ever own the foster families unless otherwise noted.
The airplane touched down in Central City at dusk. The social worker—still no name given—had given her the name of the new 'family'. She was to meet Mr. And Mrs. Evans. Rachel and Doug. They weren't hard to find.
Raven stepped off the plane and was met by a cheap cardboard sign that broadcast in a weak and shaky hand writing "Ms. Allen."
Raven grumbled but stepped up. The couple looked like they belonged in American Gothic holding a pitchfork between them. Doug Evans had a deep scratchy voice when he spoke.
"Hello, young lady, are you ms. Allen?" there was nothing welcoming about either of them. The sign remained up.
"Yes." Raven answered equally coldly. The woman, Rachel, remained silent. Doug dropped the sign to his side.
"Follow us." He commanded, turned, and walked away without waiting to see if Raven would. The wife followed in lock step. Raven drug her single carry on. The one piece of luggage she had.
Her expectations were not disappointed when they reached a dinged up, dingy ford truck. Faded red. Rachel spoke for the first time as an eerie silence settled over Raven in the back seat of that self same vehicle. "We have rules." She informed in a 'gargling with broken glass' voice that belied her thin frame and youngish face.
"So do I." She retorted.
"One—you will address only as Mr. And Mrs. Evans. None of the disrespectful stuff they teach in schools these days."
"A-" Raven opened her mouth to answer but was immediately cut off.
"Two—the conditions of schools these days are horrendous. You will be home schooled."
"O-" Again she was cut off.
"Three—you will behave in a manner appropriate for a young woman of your age."
"Wh-" she should learn to keep her mouth shut.
"That includes: Do not interrupt your elders and betters. Do not have male visitors in the house. You will dress appropriately. We have reasonable attire at the house." Why didn't she think they were referring to leotards and cloaks? "Lastly, you will change your hair to its natural color and remove that obscenity from your face."
Raven, who had been nodding peacefully accepting her punishment, was jarred and slightly angered by the last two. Had these people not read her file of niceties and half-truths? "I'm not sure what obscenity you're talking about—but I'm sure if you check with my social worker she will inform you that this is my natural hair color." No reason to make enemies, yet, sure they were a bit out of the ordinary, but so was she.
"Yes, we read your file and we don't believe you." Mr. Evans injected. "And the obscenity is that crude gem on your forehead! It is a symbol of your allegiance with the dark lord and it will not be tolerated in our house."
Raven only knew of one 'dark lord'. Her father. He destroyed her home—her friends—her mother and her mentor. The thought of him made her skin crawl and her hair stand on end. She had spent her life battling him and any trace of him in her—when accused with and alliance, she almost snapped.
A quick, literal, mental slap knocked Anger out of the physic-picture for a good long while and Raven hoped her cheek would hurt long after she came too. Briefly the irony occurred to her—she was using anger to fight anger. Funny. Happy liked it.
All that went on inside. Outwardly, in that split second, she was calm. "My Ajna charka?" she asked innocently enough.
"Is an affront to the good lord." Mrs. Evans answered.
"Are you though insulting me?" Raven asked dryly. She crossed her ankles in the limited legroom of the back seat. "You are not my parents—thank Azar. You obviously know nothing abou-"
"I assume Azar is the name of your pagan god. His name will not be tolerated within our presence." Mr. Evans sounded almost sick.
"She was my mentor and raised me form an infant." She responded full of spite, emphasis on the gender.
"Well, Azar, was it? Isn't here to be responsible for you of corrupt you any further. No doubt you were removed from that evil house."
Luckily Anger was still K.O.ed. Sad burst into tears and Raven was close to doing the same herself. To speak of Azar like that. She was peaceful—loving—"dead, she died 6 years ago."
" I hope Jesus had pity on her soul and she made it to heaven with him." Mrs. Evans responded. There was a trace of condolence in her voice. Mr. Evans just grunted, obviously her didn't agree.
The truck rattled up the drive of an old-looking, brick, east coast, home. Small but the architecture was there. It was maintained adequately and the ample lawn was cut but brown and dying.
"Get out." Mr. Evans instructed with an air of superiority.
Raven obeyed and just for spite phased through the door of the car. It wasn't worth the energy spent on opening a portal to get the task done, but Mrs. Evans almost had a heart attack. That was worth the energy spent. She felt herself being grabbed roughly about the arms. A large, dry hand cut into the flesh of her upper arm. It was Mr. Evans.
"That wasn't funny!" it took all of her energy not to flip him over and hurt him. "You and I are going to talk about your magics."
Magics? How does he know about my—oh, my powers. "And you are going to take your hands off of me." Her tone of voice added, or else.
She felt his strength leave her upper body. She opened the door and grabbed her bag. She could feel the fear behind her. "Are you going to show me in?" she asked calmly and smugly.
He nodded and Mrs. Evans fumbled for her keys. Being, as Beastboy called it, creepy might work to her advantage in this house. She trotted up to the door like obedient puppy intent on her master. Nobody fell for the act.
She set her bag down inside the door and looked around her hopefully-not-for-too-long, home. The stool by the door where she had her bag featured a three quarter length mirror on a pivot. Her eyes followed the wall as the door hissed shut behind her. There was a closet four times the size of hers at the Tower, a doorway that le d to the kitchen then a hall that led somewhere else. The Evans had taken off their shoes so she followed suit.
In her socks she padded out to the kitchen.
"Take a seat."
Do these people ever ask for anything? She wondered. She did as she was told, and sat across form them. The kitchen was quaint, it was small and clean and decorated with all kinds of chicken paraphernalia. Exactly the kind of room Starfire should never be exposed to.
"What color is your hair so we know what kind of dye to buy?" Mrs. Evans asked as though that was truly the most important trauma facing the three of them right now.
"My hair is purple." Raven answered levelly.
"YOUR REAL COLOR." Mr. Evans demanded.
"Losing your temper only makes things worse." She informed him form experience. "My natural hair color is purple."
"This is only a game if you make it one." Mrs. Evans informed her. "If you won't tell us we'll just have to guess and you'll have what we pick for you." Raven thought she done. "What do you think of blond Doug?"
Raven winced. "I think blond would be ok, if she washes that make up off her face." He answered stupidly.
"The glitter?" she had thought girls wore glitter. She couldn't see her self as a blond regardless, but stupid intolerant bible-thumpers were worse than anything she could imagine, including hair dye.
"The coloring on your skin, don't be smart."
Smarter than you'll ever be. "Did you read my file? Can you read? The paper clearly states. Eye: purple. Hair: purple. Skin tone: grey." She really tried to remain collected. Luckily anger was still groggy.
"We read your lies and we will not let them pass." They answered together. They had either rehearsed this, or they were robots. They didn't look like robots, which meant tat they were in fact evil people that rehearsed torture.
"Are you aware that my powers are genetic?" well most of them were. She wasn't lying. Guilty was over reacting. Really.
"Your 'powers' as you call them are a direct result of your alliance with the prince of lies!" Mrs. Evans almost hit her. "We will not tolerate that! EVER!"
"I have no alliance with the 'dark lord'. I know him! I hate him! And I have done everything in my power my whole life to fight him! If you accuse me of having any kind of pact with him ever again, you will regret it!" As the narrator I realize that this emotional outburst reads as very angry. Quite the contrary. Anger was still weak but Bravery and Embarrassment were coming through. Her point was known and her voice strangely daring. Part of her knew that they were talking about the Christian 'Satan' not her father, but most of her didn't care. Trigon was the only dark lord or prince of lies that she could acknowledge.
"Well," Mr. Evans seemed to find an opening, "if you are a dedicated as you claim than you understand why we cannot allow you to wear that symbol on your head—or mark yourself with hair dye and makeup."
"I understand why you think that I should take my chakra out—and you'll probably never understand why I can't." Raven quickly regained her composure. "I will tell you once more that this is my naturally hair color—and skin tone. You will not believe me until you see some thing to prove It." she took a deep breath. "If you insist on dying my hair it will grow in the same color as it is now."
"If you are so committed what of the magic you demonstrated in the car?" Mrs. Evans asked more than a little skeptical.
Raven considered a brief moment. She knew just how to play them—but it might take awhile to change their mind. "I merely used my God given talents." She scolded guilt again. She knew her powers were anything but God given.