Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans, neither do I own the fairytales that appear here today.

Author's Note: I feel I ought to explain things before the story begins, but I won't.

THIRTEEN

Red-hood and The Beast

She grasps the basket; it is heavy in her hands.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" her father asks her. For all the man that he is, he is still half-metal and will never truly sacrifice himself for another.

"I could go, instead," her mother suggests. But she is old, and tempestuous.

So Red-hood pulls on her crimson cloak and draws the hood up over her head without the help of her hands, which are holding the wicker basket. No welcoming smell of freshly baked apple pie and ginger beer wafts from it, only the weight of ammunition made lighter by the fact that its deliverer has herself the power to heal.

"I'll manage," she says, and steps out into the night.

The forest is a dangerous maze. There are things that come out only when it turns dark, things that terrify, things that lure you into ghastly traps, hasty ends, things that devour you whole, beating heart and screaming soul, things that will never allow you to see the light of day.

Red-hood blends in with the shadows. Her eyes are fiery, but even then the wolves can smell her from miles away and softly now, slowly, they come towards her. Great grey hulking shapes detach themselves from black mist and grow larger as they approach. Their eyes are yellow pinpricks in the dark. Red-hood can see their fangs glisten, can feel their hot breath at her shins. Four… seven… nine… thirteen of them, she counts.

She can take care of herself. She is only slightly worried about the basket.

The first two lunge at her, jaws open to sink teeth into flesh. She throws them back against the trees with one outstretched hand. She hears the crack of bone – one wolf remains a crumpled heap at the base of a tree, but the other is struggling to stand, now already on its feet…

The next four attack, one aiming for her ankles, the other two for her neck, the last for the basket. She creates a black energy disc, which she flings at the pair going for her neck. At the same time the wolf aiming for the basket is sent flying into the last of the four.

But the others close in soon after, taking leaps in mid-air or pouncing straight on. Red-hood silently fends them off, one-by-one, two-by-two and whole groups of them at times. They keep coming, snarling jaws snapping air. They are hungry.

Red-hood is tired of this game, and decides to end it once and for all. Her eyes flare a bright, hot white.

"Azareth… metrion… zinthos."

A black flash that fades to white.

When Red-hood opens her eyes the wolves are gone, and she carries on walking. Too late – she's already sensed the sudden quick movement behind her. One wolf left. One wolf flying through the air straight for the back of her head. A warning goes off in her mind, she whirls around and for a split second she's looking into searing golden irises that have her paralyzed to the spot.

Then – a whiz of green. The eyes are gone.

Red-hood lets out a gasp, unbidden.

In the dark, her eyes make out two shapes scuffling. There is a deep, earthy growl, a loud snap like the sound of a twig breaking, an anguished howl, and silence. Red-hood remembers the burst of emerald that saved her life before it disappears into the forest.

And then she begins to run.

Perhaps it is because she knows that time is not on her side. Perhaps it is because she knows she is near her destination. Perhaps it is because she knows that there are grey wolves encircling the tiny wooden hut lit only by the dying flame of a candle, and that more are coming. She can see him now in her mind's eye, struggling to stay alive, like a bird with its wings clipped.

On and on Red-hood runs, so fast that now she is a blur flying through the forest. The boughs of trees tear at her cloak of blood-red and scratch her cheeks, but she carries on in her single-minded purpose.

In the hut, the boy staggers to his feet to welcome the first of the wolves. He will not go down without a fight, he thinks.

She breaks through the line of trees and into the clearing where the hut is. Paw prints in the snow. The smell of blood and fire. A howl sends her dashing for the door, just in time. She stops the grey wolf in mid-leap, its snout only inches from the boy's chest, and sends it through the wall with a crash.

The boy looks up. His face is a mask.

"Raven!"

Not joy, but a warning that proves itself useless because she feels sharp claws at her back and now she's stumbling forward into the hut, with a wolf on her. But something else crashes through the door and sends her tumbling to the floor, over and over. Colours whirl in front of her eyes: red, grey, green, red, grey, green. A cacophony of noise. She tries to fend off the attacking wolf.

There is a familiar deep earthy howl and although the pressure is still crushing her, she suddenly feels inexplicably safe, and warm. Like she's been saved, again.

Another shout brings her to her senses, "Raven!"

Her eyes fly open to show the boy charging at the wolf on her, birdarang gleaming and ready to strike. But this wolf, it's a different colour, it's a different wolf, it's green, and she opens her mouth to shout No, stop, but it's too late; there is a slash, and a painful whine…

"NO!"

Robin drops the weapon, realizing his mistake. The green wolf collapses into Raven's arms and she cradles it, but already it's fast changing: fur receding into skin, snout shortening into a small, delicate nose, hands and legs replacing fore and hind legs… everything changing but the colour.

And it's Beast Boy bleeding in her arms, the same Beast Boy who'd saved her from the attack earlier on in the forest, and who had now saved her once more.

"Beast Boy…" Robin drops to his knees.

But the green boy has eyes only for the girl in red.

"No…" she says softly, once again, and her tears begin to fall. She watches them land on his wounds and even as they heal themselves she begins to understand a little of what it means to love, and love so deeply. And this time she allows herself to believe, to believe in the magic of it all, the fairytale, the possibility of a happy ending.

The tears are gone, so are his wounds and, strangely enough, everything else except him and her.

Beast Boy is smiling at her, as he always does, as he always will.

This time, Raven can feel herself smiling back.

Author's Note: It's Little Red Riding Hood and Beauty and The Beast with a Titan-twist. I didn't mean to make Cyborg and Starfire Raven's parents, but that's how they ended up. I had absolutely no intention of turning Robin into a grandmother, though, and for that I'm glad.