I'll be perfectly honest with y'all. Writing heroes might be easy, but writing Marvel and DC at the same time? Not so. I have to dedicate entirely different lines of thought to each, because the themes and overall ambiance and characters are completely different. Whatever, the chapter's here! I'm sorry I took so long! Enjoy - Darthkvzn

I was oddly reminded of my 16th birthday, in which I somehow stopped time. It certainly felt familiar, as I watched the arrow painfully burrow itself into my ex-a-lot-of-things' sternum.

Garfield, who'd been sitting on the arm of the couch, was thrown backwards, groaning when he fell.

In about a quarter of a second, I knew a few things: one, it was more than likely that either the League of Shadows, or a member of the Arrow family was after Garfield, since no one really used the obsolete weapon aside from them; two, he'd led them to my home, and thus blown my civilian cover, for which I would have payback, provided he survived; and three, the attacker was just a room away, at my back, and probably about to shoot an arrow at me, too.

Well, I couldn't exactly let that happen, right?

I conjured up a black shield in a split second, and felt, more than heard, when the second arrow hit. I stood, slowly backing into Garfield, while looking at the attacker.

I ruefully thought to myself: Found one.

Though my shield, and indeed, my powers, tinged the world completely black, while leaving only white outlines, I recognized the man: it was, without a doubt, Roy Harper, even if he looked younger than he should've, and I didn't remember the metallic arm currently pointing what looked like a miniature crossbow at me, but the hard lines in his expression were recognizable enough.

As two black-clad men filed in behind him, I actually smirked inwardly. Two for two on my amateurish deduction skills.

-"Lower the shield, Raven, and perhaps we'll leave you, and this place intact." -he said gruffly.

I rolled my eyes, though they probably couldn't tell because of the white glow. And, y'know, the shield.

-"Unlikely on both fronts, I think."

The man narrowed his eyes. "How long will you be able to keep it up, I wonder? We are very patient men."

I could keep it up for quite a while, in fact, but he didn't need to know that. "Are you? Shooting the wounded man instead of the witch who can take all of you...not very patient. Or manly." -I said, feigning some nerves.

Roy's frown deepened. "Taking your life wasn't part of the mission. It can still be that way. What has Beast Boy done for you, other than break your heart?"

-"Not lie to my face, for one. I recall having to stop an arrow meant for my heart ten seconds ago."

He growled, pointing the crossbow at my face. "Last chance, witch. Leave the dying man to us and I'll reconsider your death."

I glared at him. "You're right. It'll be harder if I wait further."

Ever since I'd settled in, I'd gone ahead and placed some customized wards as traps in case something like this might happen. They should've activated by themselves, but I suspected Garfield's presence and his status as a friendly had kept them dormant.

That was easily fixed.

I pushed my hands outwards as the former sidekick shot an explosive arrow. My shield held, turning the blast towards them, and making them scatter.

-"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" -I shouted, and the wards flared to life, angry black raven talons sprouting from the walls, grabbing and holding down the three goons against the ceiling. Harper's metal arm glowed red and shot at the black energy, which dissipated.

Behind me, I could feel Gar's life force slipping away. I needed out, quickly. My cover was blown, the business was likely over, and Rage was starting to gnaw on my psyche.

I was thoroughly annoyed.

My astral form was projected, engulfing everyone in the house and transporting us away. I chose Azarath as the destination, since there was no one to hurt there.

Garfield was unconscious and the travel didn't affect me, but the other three were clearly disoriented. I pushed one of the ninjas through a damaged column, and flung the other against a broken fountain. Then I turned to face the former sidekick, just in time to block another crossbow arrow. Bolt. Whatever.

-"Where the hell are we?" -he asked, thoroughly angry.

-"Hell, actually. My own. I hope you enjoy it, since I have no time to enjoy dealing with you."

Before he could fully process what I meant, I transported us back to Earth.

Healing was easy. A delicate process, sure, but I was fairly talented at it. Azar had often joked about it. Who could've imagined Trigon's daughter would be good at something besides death and destruction?

The wait, that's what complicated things. Healing was not foolproof. I could do the best job possible, and still lose the patient, depending on the wound. Magic was fickle that way.

Considering my patient, I was, I'll admit it, somewhat afraid.

Staring at his sweat-covered face, his features contorted in unconscious pain...well, it brought back some rather bittersweet memories. I'd given Gar everything I could possibly offer. And he'd given me some highly enjoyable experiences back, enough to make any priest faint - though I suppose my demonic heritage would be cause enough. He'd genuinely broken my heart, and yet I didn't fully blame him. We had all, in our own way, abandoned him.

For better or worse, I wasn't planning on doing that anymore. Not for awhile, at least, which brought a whole new set of problems, the least of which was evidenced by the storm of clothing covered in black energy currently flying around into my bag, which was about as full as a clown car. Space enhancements were a brilliant idea, for which I would love Hermione forever. Believe it or not, I drew some ideas from popular wizard novels. The old tomes weren't very imaginative, to be honest.

I was fairly surprised that more ninjas hadn't popped up yet. The League of Shadows wasn't known for giving up their targets, unless Batman was involved. I wasn't sure what my next step should be: assuming Garfield wouldn't keel over in the next few minutes, I was going to have to move.

Leaving the White Raven behind was hard. It had given me comfort, happiness, and anonymity. And yeah, people might've liked me as a heroine, but I was still not fully human. The stares and double-takes had never actually stopped until I started wearing the charm. I'd made friends here, and while I loved the Titans, those friendships had been born out of necessity, not leisure like the new ones.

Seeking help from the Justice League was a no-go. They'd never really approved of the Titans anyway, and most of them fully hated my guts for causing the end of the world. Justified, I suppose.

Dick had once assured me Batman would take me in, if necessary. I wasn't keen on risking it, though. I hadn't really met the Dark Knight personally, but Dick's memories had portrayed Bruce Wayne as a harsh man indeed. I wasn't sure he'd offer us asylum, friends of his son or not.

Garfield had mentioned Cyborg, though. I'd fallen out of contact with him after his acceptance into the League, but we'd been almost like siblings before. Barring a miraculous appearance from Dick, it was looking like Victor would be the man to find. He'd know how to better treat Garfield, too.

That left the matter of how to find him. Gar said he'd been in contact with him, but I wasn't sure how long ago that had been. I rummaged through his pockets and found a burner phone. My subpar tech skills got me to the single number on it, registered to 'Cy'.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed 'call'.

I really wanted a longer chapter, but it didn't turn out that way. It's alright, I think. Do you think so too? I'll give you a silly confession: I lost the plot of this story. That's alright, though. I found a much better one than the one I had before, and it won't affect the first couple of chapters. What the other one was, well, it was a mess. So let's hope this one isn't. Until next time! - Darthkvzn