OMG, I had my last evah day in school yesterday! It was sad – we had a Leaver's Assembly and some of us signed shirts and books and stuff. And we had Pupil Awards and I got nominated for Best Dressed Girl. I didn't win, this other girl did, but that still pretty cool… :D Even though they dragged all the nominees up the front of the hall in front of everyone… And the Best Couple Award was hilarious, since they didn't give it to a boyfriend-girlfriend couple, but two girls who are always always always together… Oh, how we died laughing…

I didn't cry, though – I surprised myself, since I cried my eyes out when I left primary school…

Author Idol: Round 5 deadline was yesterday, but neither the entries nor the comments have been posted, and at the moment I don't know if I am in or out…

Anyways, thankyou to: Quinn and His Quill (no more school, Quinny Boy! Ever! Is Anderson Scottish? I must Wiki it… Okay, Wiki says his nationality is unknown, but his accent is Scottish, so… you were right. Congrats…); LoopyLouise123 (Yup, he's dead. Good riddance to him, doncha think?); KGDiva (yayz, you came back! It's so nice to hear from you again! Yeah, Raven rocks – although she is out of it again for a while now…); YamiTai (yes, it's yet to come. :D Also, I am glad your exams went well! I hope you great good grades. And no, I didn't do what you think I did…); TheFallenAngel67 (the RobinxRaven part will be explained soon enough, but don't forget, they still have the problem of the baby between them, so… and yeah, the thing with the mermaid-demoness is accurate enough…); Ray1 (why thankyou! Here's your update!); Guardian of Azarath (hey, you – you ask too many questions! Pipe down in the corner there! Hee, just kidding, your questions will be answered soon enough…); Poison's Ivy (well, well, well – Poison's Ivy is back in the house, peeps! With her mega-loooong reviews! I hope everything in your hectic life is sorted out now, my dear – and that your bro is okay. I will deal with everything you mentioned in good time, don't worry – and it's very nice to have you back!); Me (yeah, it is. And yes, I do. :D); Simmie (ooh, ouch. Nasty examiner. I'm glad the exam went well, though. And yes, we're only halfway through. My order is screwed up…); and Someone (why thankyou! I hope you like this chapter too!). And other readers too, and Narroch (some day) and Seductive Angel (when you get here) and Chanceless (also when you get here)…

And now:

Broken Prophecies

Marcus Vandiver was, fortunately, far more powerful than he ever let on.

The blades were all still thrust right through him, impaling his chest and abdomen; his crimson robes were heavy and wet and stained a darker red still by the blood. He hadn't removed the knives, and although they hurt terribly, they were nowhere near enough to kill him.

But Seth had been so blinded by rage and arrogance by that point, he had merely peppered Marcus' torso with them, smiled at his scream, and then made off to catch and slaughter Robin.

Who, incidentally, would most certainly never survive having twelve blades speared through him.

It was better not to take them out until he had the strength to heal the wounds; but the pain sapped at his strength, and he couldn't even drag up his Soul Self to teleport himself. Instead he was left to weave slowly down a maze of corridors until he reached the room wherein he could sense Raven.

He smashed in the flimsy, pathetic door with a single flick of his hand even in his weakened state and stumbled down the rickety steps as fast as he was able. The rest of the battered Senate behind him weren't faring much better than him, despite the fact that they weren't sporting some rather nice new piercings…

But they would heal themselves later.

For now, they had more important matters to contend with.

Their first priority had been to heal the humans, Terra Markov and Roy Harper; they had nearly been killed by that final assault. Through healing them, and coupled with his own injuries, Marcus was more drained than he had anticipated. He certainly didn't have the energy to hold his own against Seth.

Not anymore.

But he knew that he no longer needed to.

It had taken another half-demon to destroy Seth.

Raven.

He could only hope that they weren't too late…

Ignoring the pain screaming within him, Marcus half-sprinted across the tiny, dimly-lit room to where the Robin and Raven lay next to one another; Raven sprawled out, pale with exhaustion, one hand at her swollen abdomen.

Robin…

Stepping over Raven, Marcus went to Batman's broken child first; truthfully, he was unsure if the boy was even still alive or not. At Seth's destruction his clothes had transformed back into their original black-leather-state, but even unable to see much of his skin, Marcus knew he was in a bad way.

Behind him, a few of the others appeared; Catriona, Zachariah, Aurora, and Emma, all ready to help with the healing. The others – Michael, Lawrence, Sarah, Calica and James – were already clustered around Arella's unconscious daughter. It was, however, Robin's condition that worried Marcus more. He knew that Raven had simply exhausted herself and was, even now, in a state of self-healing; the help of the weakened Senate was probably not even needed in her case.

But Robin… Marcus knelt, with difficulty, down beside him and put his hands beneath his small, broken form, lifting him up slightly. He was barely breathing, his heartbeat was growing weaker and weaker by the minute, and he was limp in Marcus' grip, his head lolling hopelessly to one side. Not quite unconscious; not quite dead.

But almost.

Marcus laid the boy back onto the floor and stood, grimacing in agony at the effort.

"Undress him down… to his shorts," he ordered breathlessly, massaging his aching neck. "We need to be able… to get at his actual body if we are to stand any… chance of helping him."

The others nodded wordlessly and knelt in his place, grouping around the near-dead teenaged boy on the cold floor. They quickly unzipped and unbuckled and unbuttoned every article of clothing he was wearing and pulled it from his body, leaving only his black cotton boxer shorts.

Which, of course, did nothing to hide the terrible state of his body.

All across his pale form were horrific patches of red – huge, liquid bruises beneath the very surface of his skin where veins and arteries had burst under the pressure of Seth's spell. Blood trickled from his mouth and the expression his face was still one of intense agony. Marcus didn't want to guess how many bones had fractured and broken, how many muscles had been ripped beyond physical repair…

Kneeling down again, the blades jostling painfully, he took his place beyond Robin's head, placing his fingertips on the boy's temples. Robin winced even in his near-dead state as Catriona and Emma took each of his wrists and Zachariah and Aurora took his ankles in their gentle grasp. If not in this battered state, any of them could have healed him alone.

But battling Seth had left them all worse for wear, to say the least.

Marcus painfully declined his head, his silky brown hair falling forwards across his pale face, and together the five of them began to chant in unison the needed spell. Lips formed Azarathian words, and as they did so, the crimson visible beneath Robin's skin began to draw back, being pulled back into his veins and arteries and tiny blood vessels as they were repaired by the white magic coursing through him. The cracks across his bones were sealed back together as though in fast-motion; the damaged tissue in his ligaments and muscles repaired itself too…

Robin sat up with a gasp, shivering yet hot; an odd, unplaceable feeling washing over him. His skin tingled, and it wasn't just the goosebumps – a result of sitting there on the concrete floor of a tiny storage room dressed in only his underwear. He shivered again more violently and clutched at himself, looking up.

Seeing Marcus Vandiver smiling over him, looking ready to pass out – and with twelve blades sticking out of his chest.

"All I'm gonna ask is where my clothes are," Robin said flatly. "Everything else… just don't bother. I gave up on this stuff a long time ago. It's all too confusing…"

Marcus smiled and got to his feet, offering Robin a hand too. Robin accepted it and stood, shivering, and feeling silly and embarrassed to be standing there – in the basements of Wayne Enterprises surrounded by the Azarathian Senate – in his tiny black shorts and nothing else.

"We had to remove your clothes… to save you," Marcus explained wearily, noting the baleful look the mortal boy was shooting in his direction. "They are over there on the floor, exactly… where they were thrown. Unfortunately I do not have the energy to… merely conjure you up the outfit of your "choice"…"

Robin looked behind him and sighed with relief to see that it was not the immodest "Robin" uniform of yore; but instead the clothes he had walked in here wearing.

His "Official Annual Gay Jerk-Off Club Calendar-Boy" uniform.

At least it covered his legs.

Green spandex is looking better than ever…

"Raven destroyed him," Marcus said heavily as Robin padded over to his clothes and began to sort through the midst of the black material, surfacing again clutching his tight leather pants.

"Yeah?" Robin grunted as he wriggled into them and zipped them up.

"Yes." Marcus frowned as Robin pulled on his equally-tight Lycra T-shirt. "That outfit looks… uncomfortably tight."

"It is."

But it's better than that "other" outfit…

He looked up again, his gaze intent on the skewered Head Senator.

"Wait, you think my clothes look uncomfortable? Those knives can't feel too great!"

"Words cannot describe… the agony I am in," Marcus replied pleasantly, his smile rather serene. "But I will live."

"Well… gee," Robin said after a long pause, his tone extremely deadpan. "There's a lucky break."

"Her Soul Self," Marcus went on, his tone becoming more urgent as he saw that the Boy Wonder was more interested in getting dressed than he was in listening to him. "She took his powers and destroyed them. That… killed him. For good."

"He's really gone? Really?"

"To the best of… my knowledge, yes."

"Mm." Robin tugged on his gloves, flexing his leather-covered fingers.

"You don't seem to be… showing much enthusiasm, Richard," Marcus said testily.

Robin tensed as he shrugged on his leather jacket.

"Don't call me that," he said through gritted teeth. "My mom was the only person who ever called me that. When… when she was mad at me… He was calling me that, because he knew. He knew it would get to me…"

Marcus sighed. He was becoming weaker by the second and desperately needed to return to Azarath so that he could pull the blades out and recuperate. But it was vital that Robin understood what was expected from him now. Prophecy or no prophecy, he now had the most important part to play.

"Robin, then," he said firmly. "Listen, he's gone. He can't hurt… you anymore. He can't manipulate you, or force… your will…"

"Oh, great!" Robin snapped, whipping around. "That's great! Sixteen years he used me for his own purposes, for his own gains… and now suddenly I'm allowed to have my own life? Oh, wow… So do I get those sixteen years back or not? Or do I just have to start again from now? Has my entire life up until now just been meaningless?"

At this he ran a hand through his neat hair, restoring it partially to its original spiky state.

"Robin, I know that you are upset by… all that you have learned tonight, but please do not be… led to think such dark musings," Marcus sighed, the boy wearing him out more than the pain was.

"Why shouldn't I?!" Robin spat. "My whole life, even before I was born – while I was still inside my mom, for petesakes – I've just been his puppet. He let me think I was leading my own life, that I was making my own decisions, but no. Every "choice" I've ever made was already predestined by him. He made me kiss Slade; he tricked Slade into raping me. Even loving Raven… that wasn't my own love. That was him manipulating my will, bending it to my own teenaged hormones so that I would act upon them, thinking it was for a deeper reason than just wanting to feel her up because I'm feeling deprived and horny. And all because he wanted her pregnant with his baby; he used me to impregnate her! All I ever was to him was a vessel for his seed, and a sacrifice for his Summoning ritual. Nothing else…"

"And it was wrong of him to… see you as so little," Marcus said pleadingly. "After all, you are the one standing here alive."

"Because of Raven," Robin finished tartly, folding his arms. "She saved me twice. If not for her, I'd have died in the portal."

"Be that as it may, the outcome is… not in accordance to Seth's plan," Marcus pressed wearily. "He is dead; you and Slade still live. Which leaves us in the… middle with a problem I must admit I had… not given thought to."

He nodded behind him to Raven, still lying sprawled out on the floor, her eyes closed. But there was something about her… Robin recognised her state to be one of subconscious self-healing. She might not awake for hours, but when she finally did, she would be good as new.

"Seth may be gone, but his child… still lives within Raven," Marcus said softly. "There is no question about it, Robin; the baby… must be destroyed."

Robin waved his hand vaguely in Raven's direction.

"Kill it, then," he said breezily. "You've got the power, no?"

Marcus smiled thinly.

"It's not that simple, I'm afraid."

Robin sighed.

"Because nothing ever is," he said miserably. "Why do I get the feeling this involves me and some more heebie-jeebie nonsense?"

"Because the child must be… destroyed by a flesh-and-blood creator," Marcus explained jadedly. "Seth placed a charm upon it, to prevent harm… from befalling it. And by involving you, Seth has sealed… the fate of his own child."

"But it isn't mine!" Robin replied irritably. "I'm not the father. Seth only used me-"

"-To impregnate her," Marcus finished softly. "Yes, you are correct; it is indeed not your child. But it was you that put his seed within her, you… that became intimate with her to ensure her impregnation. And as bizarre as that sounds, Robin, in the… indifferent eyes of prophecy, that still counts. You qualify as a "creator" even though not… even one chromosome of the make-up of that child is in any way similar to yours. And so… you are able to destroy it."

"With what?" Robin griped. "A BBQ skewer?"

"No." Marcus solemnly reached behind Robin to the back of his belt, slipping the silver knife out from it and holding it in front of Robin's face. "With this."

Robin looked at it boredly; really, nothing surprised him anymore.

"The Blade of Azar, right?"

"Guilty as charged." Marcus frowned, pressing the knife into Robin's gloved hand. "The only thing that will destroy Seth's child. There were originally seven of them forged – one representing each of the… seven chakras of the body – but now only this one remains. Ironically, this one represents… the ashma chakra; the forehead. The gemstone on Raven's forehead is also used to symbolise the ashma chakra, to help her to centre herself in meditation. The knives… were created for the sole purpose of destroying demonic beings."

"Couldn't this have killed Seth, then?," Robin pointed out bitterly, eyeing the knife with sudden distaste.

"Yes. Seth had it removed from Azarath some years ago and sent to Earth, a little before Raven's arrival with the Orb of Azarath. Nobody batted an eyelash then, but… now we see that it was because he wanted it as far away from him as possible. If someone like Jonathon had figured out… that it could destroy him – and it could have, considering that he was half-demon himself – he probably would have used it. Remember, Jonathon… never trusted Seth. He was right, of course; unfortunately, his being too vocal about it… got him killed. I should also imagine that that… was why he changed your clothes… during battle. If you had even, in ignorance of its powers, tried to… defend yourself with that knife, you'd have killed him…"

"I found it… stuck through Arella's shoulder. I think Jonathon might have already tried…" Robin said slowly, looking up.

"Yes. I thought perhaps… Either way, I suppose… the fact that it… is in your possession is no coincidence."

"Hmm." Robin, again, wasn't surprised. "Can I ask why?"

"For this very purpose."

"And how did you know we would beat Seth first?"

"I didn't. But I knew what he was going to do; unfortunately, there was little I could do to stop it by then. I thought it was best to let it play out, let Seth think he was in control. When the time was right, the Senate and I crossed time-zones to follow him here. I'm afraid I had to let you and your friends die for it, but it does not matter now. Roy Harper will fix the Clock of Eternity and you will return to your present and fix what is wrong."

"But you didn't know? That we were going to win, I mean?"

"No." Marcus shook his head, smiling weakly. "I just hoped we would."

"Right."

Robin was slightly dismayed at the pain it caused him to crack a smile; it was like he had forgotten how to do it naturally. On the contrary, his brow seemed to be comfortably furrowed in a permanent frown. He toyed with the knife in his hands, aware of how sharp it was.

How much it would most likely hurt.

"Hope." His tone sounded unintentionally sarcastic.

Marcus actually smiled.

"You are a somewhat… morbid person, Dick Grayson," he mused lightly.

Robin looked up, shrugging.

"Hanging around Batman and then Raven will do that to you. I guess I'm just… I…" He wrinkled his nose as he examined the knife again, seeing it in a sudden new light. "Why does everything prophetic seem to involve me killing something? Why can't it be a nice prophecy? Like… oh, I don't know; I'm the Chosen One to pick the flavour of Ben and Jerry's next time we watch a movie?"

Marcus raised an eyebrow.

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"I like Ben and Jerry's," Robin muttered, looking briefly in Raven's direction.

Knowing that somewhere in the equation he would end up sticking the knife into her.

Which wasn't, needless to say, a thought that he was excited, or indeed elated, by.

"I… I'm gonna have to…" Robin made little stabbing motions with the knife, his expression impassive, almost childish. "Aren't I?" He finished wearily.

Marcus nodded his head gravely.

"Afraid so. Following a ritual, you must—"

He was interrupted as Robin burst into peals of hysterical laughter; and it was indeed hysterical. The boy could barely breathe, near hyperventilating as he tried to draw air into his lungs.

"Ritual?!" He spluttered finally. "You expect me to…?" He started to laugh again, feeling weak for it; he was practically bent double by it, clutching at his stomach.

"Oh, for Azar's sake!" Marcus snapped, losing his patience with the boy. He snatched the knife back, pointing it threateningly at Robin; the teenaged boy's laughter quickly subsided to hiccoughing giggles, then drained away altogether.

Because the sight of someone with twelve knives sticking out of them, and then holding another one…

"Thankyou. Now listen, mortal, for the fate of your world… now rests in your hands."

Boy, there's a line I've heard before…

"This knife was created… to destroy demons," Marcus explained, his voice firm; Robin could see the man beginning to flag, weakening by the second. "It will therefore invariably destroy Seth's child when plunged into Raven through her flesh and womb-lining."

"Can't we just wait until she gives birth to it?"

"No."

"But I-"

"No, boy!"

Robin had never seen Marcus so irritated, and so resolutely kept his mouth shut.

"However," the Head Senator went on, wiping his brow with his free hand, "Raven too is a half-demon. If she were not, then you could simply plunge it… into her, kill the child, then allow her to heal herself. As it stands, when you stick this into her, she will die by it too."

"Then I'm not doing it," Robin replied firmly.

"No, you misunderstand, Robin. I said as it stands Raven would be killed by it. That is where… you intervene; you must find a Protection Spell to place upon Raven when… you plunge the knife into her, to protect her from its magic."

"Is that even possible?" Robin probed sceptically.

"Of course it is. Unfortunately, as neither I nor… the Senate are flesh-and-blood "creators", we are prohibited from helping you. You must do this alone, Robin."

"What kind of Protection Spell?" Robin asked wearily, sulkily accepting the knife back from Marcus. "I mean, does it have to be Azarathian, or what?"

"Anything that has powerful… enough magical properties," Marcus replied softly. "Azarathian magic, basic sorcery, Wicca…"

Do I look like a Wicca to you?...

Robin pursed his lips in irritation.

"Look, I've never done any kind of magic before," he started desperately. "And now you want me… to save Raven with it? What if I screw it up? What if I kill myself? What if I kill her?!"

"Practice, Robin. I am not expecting you to just… pick up a book and read off a spell and make it work. You must first practice."

"What if I blow up the Tower?"

"I don't know what kind of magic… you are thinking of," Marcus replied coolly, raising an eyebrow. "All I am asking you to do is a little Protection Spell. There will… be many for you to take your pick from within Raven's books."

"I can't read Azarathian."

"She has books in Latin. Surely you would… be able to translate those easily enough with the aid of a dictionary."

"I'm not allowed in her room."

"Then steal them… when she's not around."

Robin sighed; really, his excuses were just to cover his fear of the prospect of doing magic.

Magic that he would need to perfect if he was to save Raven's life.

Marcus swayed a little, his hand going to his forehead again; the rest of the Senate were suddenly swarming around them, supporting the Head Senator.

"We must part ways now, Robin," he said breathlessly, looking up as Catriona Darke took hold of one of his elbows, while Lawrence Westten placed a hand on his other shoulder. "We all must return to… Azarath to recuperate, and you must return to your own time and right what is wrong."

He slipped a hand into the pocket of his crimson robe and withdrew the glinting silver gear, flicking it at Robin. The Boy Wonder caught it effortlessly, his finger closing around it.

"Give that to Roy Harper," Marcus muttered. "He'll be able to send… you on your way." He smiled as he saw Robin raise his eyebrows, implying the inquiry as to where he had gotten it from. "Picked Seth's pocket while we were fighting," he explained, his grin echoing that of his dead friend Jonathon Vaughan. "I got two cigarettes… and a matchbook from Planet Hollywood too, if you're interested."

Robin smiled thinly.

"I'll pass."

"Your loss, Boy Wonder. Though Azar knows what I'm going to do with them…"

The mirror-like vortex – the gateway to Azarath – was summoned behind him as he spoke, being conjured by Sarah de Marçon and James Sinclair.

"I daresay this will not be the last… time our paths cross, Robin," Marcus said as the others began to file through back to Azarath, clutching at their pained afflictions. "And as it stands, consider us to be your friends."

He offered Robin a hand and the teenager shook it, smiling; a real, true smile that didn't hurt.

"Thanks, Marcus."

Marcus disentangled his hand and began to trail away towards the portal back to Azarath, leaning heavily on Lawrence and Catriona.

"Marcus!"

The Head Senator looked back over his shoulder at Robin, who had suddenly cried his name.

"Yes?"

"About Jonathon…" Robin played with the knife in his hands, then looked up. "I know I didn't come to his funeral with Raven, but… I'm really sorry about his death. I didn't come because… because I was afraid."

Marcus blinked.

"Afraid?"

Robin nodded.

"Yeah," he whispered softly. "Afraid that I would cry. The last funeral I was at was… my parents'… I just… I know it was selfish, but I chickened out…"

"No, Robin." Marcus was shaking his aching head. "It's really okay. You and… Raven were the ones that found him, and I… It's alright. It's just nice to know you care."

"I do. We all do." Robin looked up. "Star cried when we told her what had happened, actually. I mean, the Titans are there to stop that kind of thing, and then it happens right in front of us, in the same building as us, and we don't do anything. I guess that makes them – us – feel worse."

"Some things cannot ever… be changed, Robin. It would be undoing too many threads to try and make them any other way. As painful as it is, Jonathon's death was… one of them, as was the death of your parents. Of Bruce Wayne's parents. Sometimes unspeakable things have to happen to mould… us into what we will become. To shape our final destination."

Marcus brushed his brown hair from his clear blue eyes.

"That's where Seth screwed up," he sighed. "His plan should have been… flawless, but the one big mistake was that he tried to change too much. He fooled around with prophecies written… too long ago, twisting them to his own needs, and it ultimately led to his destruction at Raven's hand not even fifteen… minutes ago. Seth had been on the road to ruin for some time now; for centuries, since he'd first read that prophecy about his own power. He… died by doing the unspeakable; by trying to play God."

"And what about us?" Robin whispered. "The Teen Titans? We're the "mortal gods". Are we just as bad?"

Marcus smiled, shaking his head.

"Robin, the "Titans" were never gods."

He gave the boy a wink and turned away, disappearing with Catriona and Lawrence through the portal; the blades in him glinting in the opal light of the etheral gateway.

"Wait!" Robin cried desperately, but the portal closed and he was left alone in that cold empty room, with only a knife and his unconscious, heavily-pregnant team-mate for company.

Uh, and all that jazz…

Raven's kind of not in it for a while now, but she'll be back kicking ass soon. She just needs to heal herself up…

Next chapter: Terra, Arsenal and… Slade…

Who, as you can imagine, isn't too happy…

And yes, I didn't kill Marcus. I couldn't do that, not all three of my main-part OCs. That would just be silly…

RobinRocks xXx