Chapter 2

Survival

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.

Consciousness.

In a moment, Raven became aware. Eyes still shut, she tensed at an oppressive wind that blew over her, steady and chilled. Sitting up and shielding her face from the wind with one arm as best she could, she opened her eyes.

Black.

Slowly, she opened and closed her eyelids a few more times to be sure. As panic began to worm its way into her thoughts, a spark caught her attention from the periphery of her vision. Somewhat relieved, she oriented herself in the direction the spark had been; at least she wasn't blind.

Her next surprise came when she attempted to erect a shield for herself from the wind: her powers wouldn't respond. Upon closer inspection, she found that, indeed, she couldn't manifest any of her abilities, which might have worried her more if she hadn't been able to feel her power at all. As it was, she could feel it—buried inside, present but unresponsive.

A byproduct of her interaction with the magitech generator, or it's detonation? Maybe. Temporary exhaustion. Clearly, wherever she was, she was not where she had been. She had been teleported, most likely a result of her powers mingling with either the hex field, the explosion, or some combination of the two. Depending on how far she had been teleported, it wasn't inconceivable to think that her soul self may have been overexerted. It would correct itself in time, which was reassuring but did little to aid her situation. An attempt to call for help on her communicator yielded no signal.

Another spark.

This time, Raven saw it illuminate something metallic. On all fours, wind rushing in her ears and flapping against her cloak, she proceeded in that direction. Hard, brittle ground cracked or crumbled sometimes beneath her hands and knees, but she was soon thankful she had opted for the slower, more methodical approach. It wasn't long before she encountered a debris field, littered with metal parts and shrapnel that she carefully moved aside or maneuvered around.

A third spark told her when she had reached the source, which she found to be a familiar, body-sized capsule. She had sensed it earlier when she had erected the barrier around the machine and, deciding Jinx was probably inside, had devoted all the power she could spare to protecting it after containing the explosion. Even so, when she was honest with herself, she hadn't really expected the thing to survive intact. Only when she touched it physically did she realize how reinforced it actually was, obviously designed to protect something important in the event of catastrophic failure—which it had, apparently, and admirably well.

Feeling around the container until she had a workable mental image, she disengaged several locking mechanisms, forced to shut her eyes briefly at the light inside when she opened its hatch. Four slender, battery-powered L.E.D. lights illuminated the inside: nothing spectacular, but blinding to Raven's unaccustomed eyes.

The lights illuminated the surrounding terrain for a small distance, revealing the black, brittle earth and the wreckage. When her eyes adjusted, Raven recoiled slightly in shock at what else they illuminated. Channeling what little she could of her powers, she passed her hand near the capsule's occupant slowly from bottom to top, concentrating and checking for damage. When she was satisfied, she set to work removing Jinx from the machine. To her even greater surprise, Jinx began to stir as she lifted her out.

Placed in a sitting position with her back to the capsule, Jinx held her head and seethed, gritting her teeth.

Opting to stand, Raven watched her. "Are you…okay?"

"Ugh…" she groaned. "Anybody get the number on that bus…?"

"Explosion," Raven stated flatly.

Jinx peeked one eye open, still not even 'with it' enough to question her surroundings. "What?"

"No bus. Explosion." Raven recounted the recent exploits of Professor Chang and the result of their confrontation. Afterward, she pointed to the capsule. "You were in there. You're…well, lucky to be in one piece," she said, for lack of a better way to phrase it.

"Right…"

Beneath her hood, an eyebrow raised. "Why didn't you come to us? We could've helped you."

"Yeah, 'cuz ya totally know that," Jinx muttered.

"We would've tried," Raven told her.

"I thought I could handle it," Jinx said.

"You thought Chang could handle it," Raven corrected her.

"I thought I could handle him," she shot back.

Some seconds passed in silence between them.

Afterward, Raven asked curiously, "Why Chang? The Titans, the League—not like you didn't have options."

Slowly gaining coherence, Jinx finally managed to stand up. "Can we talk about my life story later?" She looked around. "Where are we?"

Raven joined her in taking in what little of the blight they could see. "I don't know."

"Okay, so we call for help." Jinx whipped out her communicator.

"No signal," Raven said.

Upon trying it herself, Jinx found her words accurate. "So…what? We need to find a cell tower?"

"We need to find a planet," Raven told her.

Jinx furrowed her brow. "What?"

"A planet in range," Raven explained. "Wherever we are, it isn't Earth."

"What?!" Jinx exclaimed.

"Look on the bright side," Raven suggested.

"What bright side?!"

Raven held her arms out in a wide gesture, her face still its usual bland. "Air."

Rather than reply, Jinx simply turned in place, perhaps more quickly sometimes than was called for, eyes glancing to and fro; her chest rose and fell as her breaths came deeper and more quickly.

"You're panicking," Raven observed.

No response.

"Stop panicking," Raven said.

"So I'm panicking!" Jinx snapped, whirling to face her. "Some of us have never been on another planet before!"

"I have."

The assurance subdued Jinx some, if only that. "So where are we?"

"I already told you: I don't know."

"How do we get back?"

"I don't know," Raven repeated.

"Well, what do ya know?!" Jinx shouted.

Raven waited a few moments, as if to point out that Jinx was panicking again, then replied, "Somehow, your powers interacting with mine caused a teleport. That's how we got here. Wherever we are, it's far enough away that bringing us here taxed my powers almost to the point of exhaustion."

"You can't get us back," Jinx realized, panic losing ground to fear.

"Not yet," Raven told her calmly. "Over time, my powers will recharge. When they do, I can work on figuring something out. Until then, we can either stand here, or we can try to find some kind of civilization."

Jinx tilted her head at the absurdity of the idea. "Civilization? We could be anywhere."

Raven, meanwhile, began disconnecting the L.E.D.s inside the capsule. "Yes, but we're probably somewhere I've been before, or at least a planet I've visited. The odds of being teleported, at random, to a habitable planet are astronomically low. It's much more likely that we're somewhere with which I already have a connection."

As Jinx watched, Raven held one of the amputated lights aloft; it flickered a few times before lighting in her hand. "I thought your powers didn't work."

"I can't manifest them, but I can channel them a little. What about yours?" Raven asked.

Jinx held out a hand, but nothing happened.

"Perfect," Raven commented dryly. "Here." She handed Jinx two of the four lights, keeping the other two for herself. "I can keep them lit as long as we aren't too far apart."

Jinx examined one of the L.E.D.s idly, while Raven closed the capsule. "Ya…go to other planets a lot, or…?"

"No."

"So…the list is pretty small, then," Jinx concluded, searching for hope.

"Theoretically." Raven moved her light wands about, getting a better look at their surroundings; the light didn't travel far and revealed, still, only the debris field and flat ground, dry and black.

Jinx did the same. She narrowed her eyes, peering about. "What is this place?" she asked in disgust. "And what's wrong with those trees?"

Raven switched her gaze to her companion, but Jinx merely tapped a finger next to one feline eye with a smirk.

"Good in the dark," she said.

Together, they made their way to the trees Jinx had mentioned: a sparse patch of four crooked, gnarly-looking florae that gave the impression they might once have, indeed, been trees.

Securing one of her lights under her belt, Raven set the other on the ground nearby and examined the trees more closely, somewhat to Jinx's chagrin.

"Uh…" Jinx protest feebly. "Ya…sure you're not gonna catch somethin'…?"

"These have been dead for a very long time," Raven assured her. Taking one respectably straight branch in hand, she broke it off. She held it beside her, gaging its size. Only afterward did she notice Jinx still staring. "We're going to be walking. You should take one."

Removing her shoulder adornment, Jinx tied it around her waist and slid the lights securely into it. She then approached the tree. "Got a lotta…" she grunted, pulling once on the branch, then again and stumbled backward a step when it finally cracked free, "outdoors experience?"

"Some. You?" Raven tapped her walking stick against the ground a few times to test its durability.

Jinx shrugged. "Wilderness Survival at the academy. Basic stuff," she said offhandedly.

Raven gave Jinx her full attention. "Such as?"

Jinx thought back, trying hard to remember anything useful from the old H.I.V.E. class. "Well, what we really want is some kinda camp. Somethin' stable we can explore around and, y'know, come back to." She looked up at the trees. "Found wood. So that's fire, assumin' we can start one."

"I can," Raven said.

"Don't know when we'll find it again, though," Jinx considered aloud. "No guarantee we'll be able to stay around here. Not without food and water."

Seemingly in agreement, Raven unfastened her cloak and spread it out on the ground, using her stick and some of the crumbling ground to hold it down in the wind. She began breaking off more branches in smaller pieces and piling them onto it. Jinx assisted, and when it was full, Raven folded the cloak over and fashioned it into a makeshift pack, which she slung over a shoulder.

Raven adjusted the pack slightly, making it as comfortable as she could and at least avoiding any of the branches jabbing her directly in the back. "See anything?" she asked Jinx, who turned in a circle, peering out.

"Dark." Jinx groused. "Lots and lots of dark."

First, Raven returned to the wreckage to scavenge a few metal pieces that, while they might not transport water for long distances, might at least be used to boil anything they did find. Then, no better plan, she set out in a direction seemingly chosen at random. Behind them, their footprints crunched into the brittle soil with every step, leaving a catalogue of their progress. Ten minutes or so into their silent trek, Jinx shivered at a particularly chilly gust.

"Ugh," she complained, then caught sight of Raven's exposed legs. "How are you not freezing?"

"Meditation," Raven replied.

"Bubble bath," Jinx added a few seconds later.

Raven paused, giving her companion a look.

Jinx put on an apologetic face and a snarky smirk. "Oh, were we not sayin' random things we'd rather be doin'?"

Raven rolled her eyes and resumed walking. "I meditate. A lot. It helps me regulate my temperature."

"So you're, like, one of those monks who sits in the snow in a toga or whatever?"

"No."

Silence settled in again, until nearly an hour later when Raven, a few steps ahead, abruptly stopped moving.

"What?" Jinx asked her.

Raven set down the pack of firewood, for the time being. "You tell me."

Jinx shook her head lightly at the remark, repeating her question without actually repeating it.

"I'm an empath."

"And?" Jinx asked back.

"Whatever's going on in your head is distracting. If you have something to say, say it," Raven told her.

"Like what?"

Raven waited.

Jinx's face hardened briefly in annoyance. She opened her mouth for a retort, maybe even a nasty one, but stopped; instead, her eyes turned downcast as Raven felt her ire drain away. "I'm sorry," she said.

Still, Raven waited.

Jinx's brow knit, a frown forming as her face contorted more and more to mirror the distress beneath her usual demeanor. "It's my fault," she said, unable to meet Raven's unwavering, unfeeling gaze. "I didn't— I mean, I—" Her shoulders fell. Her eyes winced. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Raven stated.

Jinx breathed a slow, heavy breath: in, and out.

"Feel better?" Raven asked.

"Not really," Jinx admitted.

"Good," Raven said simply, taking up the pack once again.

Jinx quirked her head. "How's that supposed to make me feel better?"

"It isn't," Raven replied. "You endangered peoples' lives. Feeling bad about it is a good thing. If you had said, 'Yes,' I'd be worried. You made a mistake. What's done is done. All we can do now is fix it."

"You hope," Jinx pointed out.

"We're going to fix it," Raven promised, as much to herself as to her partner. "Either we find civilization, or I get my powers back and find us a way home, or the others find a way to find us."

Curious, Jinx decided to probe. "You're not gonna ask?"

"Ask what?"

"Why I went to Chang instead of you guys."

"I already did," Raven said, resuming course.

"I never answered," Jinx pointed out. "Well, not really. If it were Bird Boy stuck here with me, we wouldn't have gotten three feet before he gave me one of those glares."

"I asked," Raven repeated herself simply. "If you want to talk, I'll listen. But I'm not a dentist. You aren't wrong, though. You don't have to answer to me, but when we get back, you will have to answer to Robin."

Nothing more said, they went back on their way, Raven confident that their conversation had done something, at least, to quell the turbulence at work in Jinx's mind.

Hours later, after twice switching off who got to carry the pack of firewood, they had encountered no more trees, or creatures, or bodies of water and had seen no indications of any. Had it not been for their trail of footprints, they would have had no indicator at all that they had even kept heading in the same direction across the seemingly endless expanse.

Even still, the lack of differentiation in the landscape wormed its way into the minds of both women, eroding all sense of progress in their journey no matter how far they wandered through the wind and dark. That, too—the dark—affected both a certain sense of claustrophobia and one of paranoia, as though at any moment some inconceivable, alien thing lay lurking and unseen, just beyond the light. A host of unknown horrors swam around them on every side, two lost minnows in a sea of inky black. Neither would have been surprised at all to have their lights illuminate some great body part or monstrous eye, rolling over and blinking in passing interest at the out-of-place pair before darting back off into the abyss.

As it was, they encountered no such thing, or anything at all. They did, however, come upon a mountainside. Swapping the pack one more time, they trailed the mountainside in one direction, until they found a cleft that opened into a larger cavern. Inside, they found both shelter from the wind and a trickle of water that dripped down into a tiny pool.

"Home, sweet home!" Jinx said with exhausted enthusiasm, dropping the pack of firewood like a sack of potatoes; it fell to the floor with a woody clatter.

Raven dug out some of her scavenged scrap metal and placed it under the trickle to collect. She turned back to find that Jinx had wasted no time in setting up a rudimentary fire pit, already using another metal scrap to scrape shavings from one of the branches for tinder. Although she had not complained since the start of their trip, Raven noticed Jinx's hands tremble as she worked.

Jinx sniffled in the cold, absorbed in her task and unaware of, or unconcerned with, Raven's observation.

Although they had yet to find food, for the first time since they had woken up, Raven found herself without the need to worry about her immediate surroundings. And as she allowed herself to focus on other things: namely, the forced hurry with which Jinx's hands scraped, the desperation present in her concentration, and the fear in her eyes. Jinx would not allow herself to feel it—to feel it, even a little, would mean to be utterly overcome by it—but she was afraid. It didn't take an empath to see that. Whatever dam she had built around those fears in order to maintain some semblance of her usual demeanor, Jinx was one small hole away from crumbling.

As Raven looked on, she considered the suddenness of the situation, how, from Jinx's point of view, she had blacked out or gone to sleep one moment and woken up the next on an unfamiliar planet, for the first time, with no apparent means of getting back. Pragmatic rationality and memories of the Titans' previous miracles and conquests over the odds held Raven's own worries at bay, but a small-time villain-turned-hero like Jinx was hopelessly beyond her ken. And she knew it, whether or not she let herself acknowledge it.

One of Jinx's hands missed the mark in its numbness, and she snapped the stick she had been scraping. Before she could get frustrated, Raven knelt next to her and held the socket end of one light to the tinder; a tiny spark lit it, and Jinx stoked it eagerly but carefully until the larger stick teepee caught.

A wide grin spread across Jinx's face, as though just the simple comfort of warmth had done wonders for her disposition. She balled her fingers into fists and stretched them out a few times, getting the blood flowing as she warmed them close to the fire.

"Hah…" she sighed with pleasure, rubbing her hands together briskly. "Not freezin' tonight!"

Wordlessly, Raven retrieved her container of water, now nearly full. She placed it by the fire in such a way as to allow it to boil. They sat quietly for a while in the flickering glow, listening to the fire crackle and burn.

At one point, Jinx stretched. "How're your powers?" she asked.

Raven mulled over the question and, even more, exactly how to quantify an answer. "It's…going to take time," she said finally. "I can feel them, but I still can't call them out. Yours?"

"Same, I guess," Jinx said, then had another thought. "Y'know, I always wondered. About your powers. Meta, or just a sorceress? Human."

"Neither," Raven replied. She gave a mental sigh at what would come next. It always came next.

Jinx gave her a stupid look. "How's that work?"

"I'm half human," Raven told her, hoping Jinx would drop it there but knowing that, like anyone else, she wouldn't.

A casual, "Huh," was Jinx's only response.

At that, Raven looked up from the fire to Jinx. "Aren't you going to ask? Everyone does," she said with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

Jinx glanced up with a smile. "Not a dentist." She winked.

To even her own surprise, Raven smiled back, unsure whether Jinx had noticed. Their conversation tapered off after that, and although Jinx had broken the mold in leaving Raven's parentage alone, Raven found herself unable to do the same. Perhaps she had become so accustomed to that particular line of questions and answers that the need to continue had become almost a compulsion. Perhaps some part of her believed that because of their situation, or because of her courtesy, Jinx deserved to hear. Whatever the case, it fluttered about on the tip of Raven's tongue until she finally set it loose.

"My mother is human," Raven said, by that point thoroughly out of left field.

Jinx looked up out of curiosity.

Raven stared at the fire. "My father…was a monster. A demon."

Jinx's brow rose in interest. "Was," she said.

Raven gave a single, solemn nod.

"You…?" Jinx inferred aloud.

Raven's eyes moved up from the fire and met her companion's.

"Heavy…" Jinx said in awe.

"Heavy," Raven agreed.

Some time passed, and Raven divided up the boiled water after it had been allowed to cool.

"My turn, I guess," Jinx spoke up eventually. "It…wasn't like there was a problem or anything. I'm not unstable. I just wanted to get better. And it's not like I didn't think about comin' to you guys. I mean, okay. My first thought's the League, right? They've got all kinds of magic stuff goin' on. But I just… I don't know. I just couldn't, y'know? I just switched sides. I just joined the team, for cryin' out loud. How's it gonna look if the first thing I do is go beggin' for help?"

"Smart," Raven said in answer. "But I understand pride. You didn't want to look weak."

"Right!" Jinx affirmed, practically ecstatic that Raven got it. "At the academy, I was top of the class. On my old team, I was the one in charge."

"Looking weak is one thing, but you talk as though you had something to prove," Raven said.

"Didn't I?" Jinx pressed.

"You had already helped save the world," Raven told her. "What else could you have possibly had to prove, and to whom?"

Jinx said nothing, but crinkled her lips in annoyance and stared at the empath across the fire, as if to ask if she really had to say it.

After a moment of thought, it was clear when realization dawned on Raven. "Me?"

"Duh!" Jinx exclaimed. "What, ya thought it was coincidence I always singled you out when we went at it?"

"Why?" Raven asked in utter confusion.

"Uh, hello! Magic? Not only were ya the only one to use it, ya were crazy friggin' good at it! You're seriously gonna sit there and tell me ya never noticed?" Jinx asked.

Raven suddenly got a bit sheepish. "Well, I…thought for strategic counter…"

Jinx sighed a dismal and sarcastic sigh. "Nothin' sadder than a one-sided rivalry…"

"So you're saying that this entire situation—all of it—is because you thought you had something to prove. To me," Raven clarified.

Jinx lost some of her fervor, embarrassed or ashamed, and switched her gaze back to the fire.

"That's stupid," Raven said.

Jinx looked up in confusion. "Say what?"

"You're extremely adept at what you do," Raven told her. "Metahuman or not, your degree of magical proficiency was always impressive. Comparing yourself to me isn't even really fair. My heritage gives me access to a wealth of power the likes of which most metahumans will never see. My struggle is controlling it, learning to harness what's already there, safely, in greater and greater amounts. To have started from zero and sculpted yourself, by the same age, to the point where you could stand on an even field with any amount of that power, you ought to be proud."

Jinx blushed, hidden by the fire. "Thanks," she said. "I mean it. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I only give praise where it's deserved. Ask Beast Boy," Raven said.

Jinx giggled.

"Speaking of annoying male companions, do you mind if…I ask a question?" Raven inquired.

Jinx's Cheshire grin returned in full form. "Oh, lookit you!" she praised. "Gettin' into the real girl talk! Sure, go ahead."

"What…did happen?" Raven asked. "Between you and Kid Flash. You don't have to answer. Normally I wouldn't even ask, but…I am curious. He won't talk about it, but not because it upsets him. I can feel that it doesn't. It feels almost like…" She considered. "Respect. Or trust of some kind, as though talking about it would be a betrayal. I can only assume to you."

"Wow, you're good," Jinx complimented her. "It's nice to hear that, though. He's a ladies' man, sure, but he was always a good guy."

"Like I said, you don't have to answer," Raven said.

"No, it's fine," Jinx assured her. "He and I always got along great, no big problems or whatever. Wasn't anything either one of us did, I just…" She paused with a nervous laugh. "You, uh…sure ya wanna talk about this?"

"Not if you don't," Raven said.

"It's not that. I just…don't wanna embarrass ya," Jinx explained.

"I don't do embarrassment," Raven replied.

"Okay…" Jinx gave up. "When the uniforms came off, I just… I don't know… I…wasn't into it, y'know?"

Raven's eyes got a little wider, though her tone betrayed nothing. "No."

Jinx laughed again. "No. Guess not, huh? It wasn't his fault or anything, nothin' he did or didn't do. I think maybe I just…play for the other team."

As the surprise over the course their conversation had taken wore off, Raven returned to her usual composure. "I assume you're not talking about heroes and villains."

"No," Jinx said.

"Well, that certainly makes things make more sense," Raven concluded. "If you haven't told anyone, then his feelings concerning going into detail are understandable."

"Yeah, he's a good guy," Jinx said. "Thanks, by the way. For tellin' me about your…y'know. Kinda makes me feel better about the whole hero thing, knowin' I'm not the only tiger tryin' to change stripes."

Raven smiled softly. "Any time."