Well this one is...weird to say the least. I told you Robin needed some sort of awakening...I didn't know I meant that literally (or quite this way hmmm) I hope you enjoy :)

Read and Review please...it feeds a writer's starving ego

Disclaimer: Same as before.

The pain started in his chest, at first it only hurt to breathe. So he went to the lab and ran a series of tests, wondering if he had cracked a rib in one of the many calls they had had lately, but the tests came back clean. Then he began to dream, every night; dark dreams, happy dreams; dreams that caused him to awake crying out in passion or fear, both intermingled until they were damn near impossible to separate. So he ran tests on his mind, determined to see if a spell had been cast or another powder released, still everything came back clean.

Then he woke up one night and remembered the face of his tormentor, "Raven," He croaked out in the darkness. Raven had been gone on assignment for a week now, out of touch and, he had desperately prayed, out of his mind.

Her scent seemed to be everywhere, the scent as mysterious and arousing as the dark witch was herself. Robin continued to fight his baser instincts, but he began to move through the day in a mindless haze; eagerly awaiting the time when his head would touch the pillow and his mind would fill with her image; her voice and once again her scent.

"I'm losing my mind." He whispered to himself in the dark, once again awakened by the terror of a bloodied Raven in his arms. "I can't do this, if I allow anything between us that dream will fast become reality." His words hung heavy in the air; talking to himself seemed far better at the moment than returning to his dreams. He got out of his bed, clad only in a pair of shorts and his mask. Robin exited his room and headed for the control room, determined to get something to drink and then head for a session in the training room, hopefully that would push the horrors from his mind.

The dim lights of the control panel were lit when he entered the room and he saw the object of his dreams placidly typing away, a cooling cup of tea sitting beside her.

Something snapped inside of him, he crossed the room in a few hurried strides and whipped the chair around until she faced him, eyes widened in surprise and then quickly shuttered.

"Robin," She nodded nonchalantly at him, as if having him glare shirtless at her was a regular occurrence. "I am finishing my report of the mission, I encountered only minor trouble."

"Why?" His eyes were a little wild behind his mask and his hands here on either arm of the chair, effectively imprisoning her in the small place between the chair and his body. "Why must you torment me?"

She just arched a brow at him, "Have you finally lost your mind? I figured you had a few more good years in you," She tapped a finger to her lips, "I am rarely wrong about things like that, it's always refreshing to be surprised."

"This isn't some joke," He hissed, leaning closer to her until she could feel his breath feather the skin of her cheek and she could smell the desperation and want rolling off him. "You are on my mind when you aren't even here. You invade my dreams with visions of things that are best left alone." His voice had lowered to a whispered growl, "It hurts to breathe without you near."

"So?" She kept her brow raised and shrugged lightly at him, only her intense training kept her from shrinking away from him and pride kept her from running. "I don't make you think of me; dream of me. I don't make you hurt. These are all your choices. I offer reality, you take dreams. I offer love and you take pain. Your choices."

"I'm going mad," He repeated the phrase he had said to himself only moments before.

"No you are not," She replied with her impassive voice, "Eventually you will stop remembering so many of your dreams, soon the pain will become a part of you and you won't remember what it is like to exist without it. In time I will only be a shadow in your thoughts, not the shining beacon."

"How do you know this?" He stood up and pushed a hand through his hair in frustration, eyeing her with not a little suspicion.

"Because I live this Robin, I have lived this for too many years to count." She gave him a small whisper of a smile that was gone almost before it registered on her face. "This is why I couldn't give Roy what he needed."

"I can't…" His voice trailed off.

"Yes, I know perfectly well what you can and can't do Robin." She stood and took a step near him until she was so close she had to look up to see his face, a trace of frustrated anger lacing her tone. "You fear this as you have feared nothing else in your life." She raised a hand and held it a fingertip away from his chest, but she didn't touch him.

His breath caught as he felt the heat from her breath on his chest, felt the heat from her hand radiated until he ached to lean into her hand, just to feel the touch of her silken skin against his. "I fear nothing." He felt like he was gasping for air, drowning in the scent and feel of her even without her touch.

"You fear this as much as I always have, the only difference is that this time I can admit my fear, I can embrace the possibilities. You run from it, hide away from what you want and probably what you need." She sighed and her breath drifted against his chest again, causing chills of lust to thrill down his spine. "Whatever happened to the hope you taught me to have."

"Hope has nothing do to with this." Now his voice was definitely strangled and he was fast losing the oxygen from his brain, he felt dizzy with his need for her. "This can't happen."

"This will happen eventually, you know that deep down." She argued gazing steadily at him, her eyes wide on his. Her cloak had been discarded when he had come in the room and her leotard left nothing to his imagination as her chest heaved with barely contained emotion.

For the second time that night he felt something snap deep inside him and he roughly grabbed her arms, forcing a gasp from her. Whether from surprise or worry neither one had time to think, before his lips were roughly on hers his hands at her back pulling her in closer. Her hands on his muscled arms, tightening as they met in a war of wills and passion; one where neither was the loser.

They broke for air, her body pressed hard against his; both panting for breath. "This will happen whether you want it or not. There is such a thing as destiny." She whispered before she disappeared from his arms.

"RAVEN!" He shouted, bolting upright in bed. His blankets a tangled mass around his legs, his body covered in a glossy sheen of sweat.

"There is such a thing as destiny." He thought he heard the whispered words again and he shuddered, but with fear or desire he wasn't sure.