The day began like countless others. With the sun rising slowly, casting its bright light over the calm waters of the bay, causing the placid surface to sparkle like diamonds. The crisp night air began to warm and the sky began to lighten to a brilliant shade of blue. The stars all fled from view, hiding their winking eyes like shy children. Of the night time jewels, only the moon remained, faded slightly when compared to the brightness of its larger cousin. But it was too old, and too accustomed to the sun's presence to be chased away.

And then it all changed.

The sun that had been in the midst of bringing warmth and light to the world suddenly turned black. Night, deeper and blacker than was natural, swiftly descended once more, bringing with it not fresh, cool air but the hot, heavy smell of sulfur and brimstone. The calm sea began to bubble and boil, the soothing blue waters darkening to crimson. Fire flashed along the edge of the sky, cutting jagged cracks across the once smooth surface. The earth shuddered and groaned as if it were being torn apart. And from everywhere came a voice that reverberated throughout the world, over oceans and mountains, through steel and concrete.

"The gem was born of evil's fire.

The gem shall be his portal.

He comes to claim, he comes to sire,

The end of all things mortal.

What comes in darkness,

what comes in shadow,

shall spare the sightless

and consume the hallow."

With the final words, a wall of fire washed over everything, consuming all and sparing nothing.

Raven awoke with a gasp, one hand grasping at her heart where a vicious pain bloomed ripe and raw. Each breath she drew in felt as if it passed through a hundred razor blades. Her eyes burned with the remnants of the vision while her head pounded with both hurt and a damning echo of the prophecy that haunted her. She could hear the voice still, could feel the fire as it raced over her skin, could smell the rancid stench of hell. There was more pain racing through her body, carving intricate patterns into her feverish skin. She did not have to look to know that the markings were there, bright and violent against the pale grey.

Slowly the vision began to fade, replaced by soft darkness, familiar darkness. There was the quiet grey of her ceiling, the subdued purple of her bed. For a long while Raven laid still, her eyes wide and unblinking. Her thumb involuntarily stroked the skin over her heart and her breathing gradually began to even out. Just a dream. A nightmare.

Her eyes closed briefly and when they open again, they were filled with a great emptiness. Not a nightmare. A vision. Of the future. Of what she was destined to bring. Would it truly happen so quickly? Merely a flash of fire and pain and then nothing? Or would the agony be spread out over centuries, a slow torture, seemingly without end? Her father could bring both, depending on his mood, his whims.

She rolled over onto her side and for a moment, fresh pain bloomed in her heart. Was that all she was? A whim? A thing created to bring about destruction? A simple tool to be discarded after serving its purpose? Was that all she was?

From deep within her mind that came a ravenous chuckle. Yes.

Clenching her fists so tightly that her short nails began to bite into her skin, Raven sat up and threw back the tangled, sweat soaked sheets that covered her. Her legs wanted to tremble but she gritted her teeth and locked her knees. She pushed herself off of her bed and onto her feet, ignoring the protests of her aching muscles. They were tired. She was tired. Sleep had been troublesome as of late, burdened with visions and messages from daddy dearest. Her lips curled into a something reminiscent of a snarl and she stalked over to her dresser. To the ornate hand mirror that rested on it. She had a message for him. Both hands slapped down on either side of it as she stared into the reflective surface.

It did not take long for the four glowing red eyes to appear.

"I won't make it easy for you. Do you hear me? You may haunt my dreams, infest my mind, blight my soul, but I won't come willingly."

Ah, but you've no choice. It is your destiny. Your purpose. When the time comes, you will be unable to heed the call.

Her fingers dug into the wood of the dresser as the voice rumbled in her head, mocking. She lowered her head closer to the mirror.

"Haven't you ever heard the saying, good always triumphs over evil? I'll find a way."

There was another chuckle. Good? My daughter, you forget what you are.

Raven straightened, sliding her control into place over her fury and indignation. And sorrow. "No," she said quietly, holding one arm out. Her cloak rose up from the high backed chair that she had tossed it over the night before. The soft fabric felt strangely cool against her fingers as she slipped it around her shoulders and secured the clasp.

"I never forget anything."

Though she called herself weak and the gesture petty, she picked up the mirror by its smooth silver handle and flipped it over. But it did not stop the laughter from rolling through her mind.

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The common area of Titans Tower was a flurry of activity that morning, each Titan in various stages of breakfast. Starfire was busy working her way through an enormous plate of something blue, furry, and possibly still alive. But by the blissful expression on the alien princess' face, Raven concluded that it had been prepared exactly to her liking.

She only barely resisted the shudder.

Cyborg had a plate heaped with waffles, melting butter, and thick syrup. He was carting it over to the table with his own expression of delight covering his face. She couldn't tell if this would be his first helping or his sixth. Not that he would enjoy them any less if they were his two-hundredth.

She very nearly let the smile slip.

Tucked into the corner of the kitchen, Beast Boy was in the midst of stirring something in a pan. By his enormous grin, cheerful whistling, and the slightly plastic smell that tinged the air, Raven figured he was cooking up his infamous tofu, in one form or another. Her suspicion was confirmed when he called over his shoulder, "Who wants some nutritious, delicious tofu eggs?"

The only response came from Cyborg, who threw a plate at his head.

Her sigh was silent.

She stepped into the small kitchen area and, nimbly avoiding shards of broken crockery, pressed her palm flat against the side of Beast Boy's head while reaching into a cupboard for her tea kettle and one of her cups. There was a brief glow beneath her fingers and the tiny gash on his forehead closed. His eyes cleared and his hand immediately flew to the spot where it had been throbbing just seconds before.

"Wow. I can never get used to that," he admitted with a chuckle. "Thanks Raven."

She nodded, her attention focused on the cabinet in front of her. Where was her kettle? Hadn't she put it away the night before?

"Here." There was a quiet click of ceramic against tile.

Her eyes lowered to the counter where a gloved hand had set a steaming cup of tea down. She followed the arm as it retracted and found herself looking at Robin, who held a mug of his own. He jerked a thumb towards the stove. Her tea kettle was resting on one of the burners.

"I borrowed your kettle. I hope that's alright."

Raven stared at him blankly for a moment. Then shifted her gaze to the kettle. Then back to him. For some reason, she felt that it wasn't alright. That it was somehow very . . . . . unsettling. And that was strange. After all, it was just a tea kettle. Not particularly valuable or sentimental. Just something to boil hot water in. And yet, none of the other Titans had used it before. Certainly not Robin who, despite being a few months past eighteen, seemed to be shameless addicted to coffee.

"Raven?"

She zeroed back in of him and saw he was watching her with an expression that was half amused, half concerned. And wondered, idly, how it was possible for a face to be so expressive when a good portion of it was covered.

"No. Yes. That's fine. I . . ," she heard herself fumbling and was slightly appalled by it. "I didn't realize you drank tea," she finished lamely, resisting the urge to scrub her hands over her face. The lack of sleep and of meditation was starting to take its toll. At this rate she'd destroy the world before her father even got there. Wouldn't that be lovely? Sort of like an early Father's Day present. Here Pops, I know its a couple weeks early but I destroyed the earth for you.

Azar.

Robin took a small sip from his mug and shrugged. "I'll let you in on a little secret." He leaned forward slightly and continued in a staged whisper, "I hate coffee. Like, really, really hate it."

"I would have never guessed, considering how much of it you inhale."

He chuckled. "Well we non-super heroes have to keep the energy up somehow. Though I should see if Cyborg can't hook me up with a caffeine patch or something."

Raven heard the slight bitterness that colored his tone whenever his lack of "superpowers" was mentioned and as always, it puzzled her. Did he truly think he was so powerless, simply because he couldn't shoot energy from his hands or lasers from his eyes? Did he think it was a blessing, a gift to be able to wield such terrible power?

If he did, she was going to whack him over the head with the frying pan Beast Boy had left on the stove.

How could she explain to him what it was like to know that you could level an entire city with merely a thought? How could she explain the terror that came with it? Knowing that you were the only thing that could stop you. How frightening that was. How exhilarating. How seductive.

In the end, because she couldn't explain it, she said nothing. Merely stared down at her cup of tea that was rapidly beginning to cool.

"You don't have to drink it."

She glanced up again and he motioned to the cup. "You can pour it out. I won't be offended. You probably like to make it yourself."

Before she even realized it, she was shaking her head. "No. It's fine," she said, lifting the cup. "Ah . . . thank you." She took a small, testing sip.

And nearly gagged.

Robin, perfectionist in all things, made lousy tea.

Raven managed to swallow without a visible grimace. "It's very . . . strong," she settled on, turning out of the kitchen. She wasn't sure if she was annoyed, irritated, or content when he followed her. Together they left behind the noise and activity in the common room and entered into the long hall that would lead to the elevator. Robin waited until the doors were closed before he spoke.

"Are you alright? You look a little . . . rough."

Lifting one brow, she shot him a bland look. "Thanks. All that beauty sleep must really be working."

The doors to the elevator opened to the roof. She stepped off first, catching the morning breeze as it ruffled through her hair and her cloak.

"Nightmares?" he pressed.

Caught off guard, she spun around and nearly knocked heads with him. One look at his face told her that he hadn't been asking a question. The same feeling of concerned radiated off of him that she had felt the night before.

"How did you . . .," she trailed off when he tapped his forehead, his lips curving slightly.

"Looks like someone needs to focus a bit more."

It was a bit of a struggle to keep an answering smile of off her face, but she managed. Instead of answering right aware, Raven turned and headed towards the roof's edge. What was it about that spot that drew her to it so often? Was it the view of the water? The way the entire world seemed to be spread out before her? The openness? And what about Robin? What drew him back time and time again? The height no doubt, she thought. The boy did seem to enjoy teetering above everything, inches away from a perilous fall with only his wits and his gadgets to save him.

"I've had some trouble meditating these past few weeks. I'm sorry if I dragged you into my dreams."

He shrugged a vague lifting of his shoulders. "It's not a problem. Though maybe next time you could try for something a little less Revelations."

"I'll see what I can do."

Serious again, Robin stepped up beside her, following her gaze out. What did she see when she looked out over the water? The world that was before her? Or a world submerged in flame? Which would she prefer?

The questioned shamed him. Though not as much as his inability to answer it. Rather violently, he pushed the thought aside. He would not doubt his friend.

"Is it Trigon who's sending you these visions?" he asked. She closed her eyes for a long moment and he wondered if he was going to get her standard line of; it's none of your business. But, like she often did, she surprised him.

"In a way. He doesn't communicate with me directly but . . .," she paused, as if searching for the right words to explain. "But I am a part of him. Not just as his daughter but physically a part of him. That's how demons spawn. By passing part of their essence on. That is where my powers come from." She turned her head so that she could meet his masked eyes. Because it was important that he understand what he often envied. "They come from him."

He nodded slowly and she could see that he had gathered her meaning. Both of them. "So the part of you that is him, sort of sends you his thoughts?"

"Basically."

"And because it's part of you, you can't really block it out, which means you can't focus enough to meditate."

"Yes."

Robin folded his arms across his chest and rubbed the bottom of his chin. "But you didn't seem to have any trouble when you were showing me how to focus my thoughts."

She blinked rapidly and he could see that he had hit upon something she hadn't considered. "No," she said slowly, rolling the memory over in her mind. "I didn't. Probably because we were in your mind instead of mine."

"Do you think it would help you if we mediated together?"

Raven stared at him. There it was again. That same strange warmth in her chest that she had felt when he had gathered her close. So unfamiliar. On Azarath, she had only known two emotions. Anger and hatred, both directed at her . . . at Trigon. Time spent with the Titans had introduced her to several more. Irritation, Annoyance, Concern, Frustration, Sorrow, Care. This new one did not feel like any of those, or maybe it was better to say it felt like all of them. And more.

The Titan's alarm sounded, cutting off any further introspective. Catching Robin's eye, she grabbed hold of his arm and sank them through the floor.

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The building was one of those modern miracles; a gleaming tower of glass and steel that speared up towards the heavens, stunning onlookers as they tilted their heads back, their eyes searching for the top. They called it ingenious, the ability to build so high with such strength and yet retain such a fragile appearance. To them, it looked like one strong gust of wind would blow it over, though they were assured that it could withstand a level three hurricane.

To Robin, it was three thousand tons of metal and concrete that could come crashing down, crushing innocent people. It was surrounded by dozens of police cars and emergency vehicles, not to mention an ever growing crowd of spectators pushed back behind blue barricades. What was it about tragedy or tragedy in progress that drew people? Did they really feel a need to see death up close and personal? Did it remind them of their own mortality? Or was it just a wicked kind of glee that it was happening to someone else?

His eyes scanned the base of the building, trying to peer through the dark glass to see where the trouble was. But only his reflection stared back at him.

"What's the situation?" he asked the plain clothed policeman who was brushing past him. The lieutenant looked up, surprise running across his thick features. Surprise quickly shifted into relief.

"Oh, it's you. Thank God." The lieutenant glanced around. "Where are the others?"

"They're on their way."

"Oh. Look, it's pretty bad. We've got some whack job in there, says he's wired explosives around the buildings joints, enough to have it come down on our heads."

"What does he want?"

The lieutenant looked suddenly and distinctly uncomfortable. "Well, look. Normally I wouldn't think about negotiating with terrorists but . . .," he trailed off, turning his eyes to the building and rubbing at the back of his neck. "But there are a bunch of kids in there. Little ones."

Robin kept his voice flat though something cold and sharp clenched in his stomach. "What does he want?"

"He wants me."

Raven's voice cut through the noise of sirens as she dropped from the sky, landing silently beside the policeman. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Isn't that right?"

"You Raven?"

She nodded.

"Then yeah, you're the one he's looking for. Says anybody else tries to get in, he blows the building. You don't come in, same deal. Fuck," he muttered, digging into the pocket of his jacket for a pack of cigarettes. Pulling one out he stuck it between his thin lips, then wordlessly offered the pack to Raven. Recognizing the gesture, her lips curled faintly.

"Those things will kill you."

"No shit, but so will a building when it collapses on you," the lieutenant said, bringing out battered silver lighter. While he clicked the igniter with his thumb, trying to coax out a spark, Raven turned to Robin. He stood with his back stiff and his arms folded across his chest. If he had been given heat vision, he probably would have melted the building into a smoldering pile by the strength of his stare. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he calculated their next move.

"Do we have a time limit?" he asked the cop. The lieutenant nodded.

"Gave us fifteen to contact you." He glanced at his watch. "'Bout eight left. Shit. Gotta go have my boys clear the area." With that he hurried off, giving off orders in a clipped shout to the dozen or so uniformed officers that were nearby.

"Alright," Robin began, dropping his hands to his sides. "Here's what we'll do. We'll wait for the others to get here. Then we'll—"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "You heard him, Robin. We don't have time to wait, nor can we risk disobeying the . . . 'whack job's' orders."

"I am not sending you in there alone." His voice was firm. "It's dangerous and it's stupid to give him another hostage."

"I agree. However," she continued before he could jump in, "we don't have much of a choice."

Robin knew she was right; knew that however much it galled him, they had to go along with the perpetrator's demands. At least until they could get everyone else away from danger. He knew that. Or, more specifically, his mind knew that. But other parts of him were less than sure. Still, just because she had to go in alone, did not mean necessarily that she had to be alone. He dug into his utility belt and came up with a small ear piece.

"Keep in contact. I want to know the second that everyone is clear."

Raven nodded and fit the tiny device into place, twisting the end to turn it on. She waited a moment for him to slip one into his own ear. When he gave her the go ahead she started toward the building, cloak fluttering behind her. As she drew nearer, she began to be able to see motion behind the dark glass. Motion broken up by and hidden behind bright sunspots and the towering skyscrapers behind her. She paused at the door and looked back over her shoulder at Robin, thirty feet away.

"If something goes wrong, I expect you to fix it," she said dryly, both to test the communication line and to bolster him.

He heard her clearly but for some reason, her voice failed to reassure him. Instead it felt very strange to hear it inside of his ear. Strange and intimate. Across the thirty feet of paved street and concrete sidewalk their eyes met and heat gathered at the back of his neck. As if the sun had suddenly descended to within inches of his skin. His heartbeat quickened. Can't be nervous. Have to trust her.

"He was right, you know," he called out, more to calm himself than her.

He could see one of her eyebrows rise.

"That uniform is wicked hot."

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The door closed behind her with a quiet click, though Raven could barely hear it over the whimpering that was coming from the twenty or so bodies spread out on the glossy floor of the lobby. Her gaze flickered over each one, silently counting. 19. 20. 21. It was difficult to concentrate. Their fear was heavy, intoxicating. She breathed in deeply, slowly siphoning the tangled emotions, feeling them course through her veins and over her skin. The whimpers quieted. 22. 23. 24.

He stood over them all, a tall column of crimson atop the marble topped security desk, a small black box in one hand. In the other was the same enormous gun he had held to her forehead just days before. His masked eyes were trained on her; had been since the moment she had stepped through the door.

"It's him," she said quietly. There was a small blip of static, followed by Robin's voice.

"Who?"

"The man from the quarry. Looks like he has a remote detonator. There are twenty-four hostages that I can see."

"Get them out of there."

Raven continued forward, her soft boots silent as they moved over the floor. She stopped a few feet from him.

"Let them go."

His response was swift. He lifted the gun, pointed it at her, and pulled the trigger. The bullet whipped through the air on a direct course for the center of her head. She didn't even flinch. Before the steel could bury itself in pale flesh it was engulfed in dark magic. Silently it hovered in the air for a moment, and then fell to the floor with a clatter.

"Let them go," she repeated.

If he was surprised or awed by her display of power, he didn't show it. Just continued to watch her wordlessly. She held his gaze while her mind carefully ticked through different ways to get at the hostages. They were too spread out for her to tuck them under her cloak. If she tried to attack him he would no doubt set off the explosives. As strong as her powers were, she wasn't sure she could hold up an entire building. Perhaps if she could distract him . . .

But before she could think of how, he swept his gun hand toward the glass doors. "Anyone who wants to live should leave now."

Raven remained rooted where she was while the bodies began streaming past her toward the exit. She knew that he did not include her in his statement. Behind her the doors clicked shut for the second time, filling the room again with silence.

"Curious yet, Raven? As to why I asked for you? And who I am?" His voice had the same mechanical grate to it. She resisted rolling her eyes. Villains.

"Considering that you've twice held a gun to my head and all but admitted it last time, I'm fairly certain you want to kill me. And since I've never seen you before, I can only assume someone is paying you to do it. As to who you are," now her voice took on a slight sneer, "I'm sure you're about to tell me."

He hooked his gun over his shoulder and though she couldn't see his mouth behind his mask, she got the distinct impression that he was smiling.

"Clever little mouth you have." He began to pace back and forth, his thumb idly clicking the black box in his hand. "But it is true. I have been hired to kill you, though my employers were a little lax in their details concerning your abilities." His fingers tightened on the handle of his gun. Raven caught the slight movement, as well as the sudden surge of anger that rolled off of him. Not so calm and collected, are you?

"How very unlike Slade," she ventured, wondering how far she could push his emotions. Too far and he'd be uncontrollable. But just far enough and he'd make a mistake. One was all she would need.

He stopped his pacing and laughed, an oddly hollow sound that reminded her of ice being scraped off of metal.

"I don't know how you knew he was my brother, but you're very wrong if you think he's the one behind this."

"Then who is behind it?" she pressed. He squatted down, his arms dangling between his legs in a familiar stance.

"You're a smart girl, Raven. I'm sure you'll figure it out. Of course, it might be difficult to do so," he held up the black box, his thumb posed over it, "when you're dead."

"Guess again."

They both turned towards the voice, just in time to see the bird-a-rang whipped through the air and smash into the box, sending bits of plastic flying. Not wanting a repeat of last time, Raven immediately reached back toward the criminal, magic gathering in her fingertips. But something hard and heavy connected with her forehead, causing an explosion of colors behind her eyes. Her vision splintered and she staggered. The sound of footsteps rang loudly in her ears; he was getting away. She managed one step forward before she fell to her knees and felt strong hands grasp her shoulders.

"Raven? Are you alright?"

She looked up and saw Robin's face wavering back and forth. "I don't think so. Unless you've always had two heads."

"He clocked you pretty good," he said, brushing his fingers over the skin that was already beginning to swell.

"No thanks to you." Raven closed her eyes against both the pain and the dizziness. It surprised her that she very much wanted to lay her throbbing head against his shoulder. How weak you've grown. Depending on the comfort of mortals. Despising the voice, and the truth that it spoke, she pulled out of Robin's hold.

"He's getting away," she mumbled, rising unsteadily to her feet. Robin reached out again to help her and was startled when she swatted his hands away.

"Starfire, Cyborg, and Beast Boy are set up around the building. He's not getting away. He's—"

BOOM!

The explosion rocked through the building's frame, sending out an enormous shockwave that rolled over them like a tidal wave. Robin felt himself shoved backwards, his body flying through the air and landing with a crack against the marble security desk. His shoulder hit first and he heard the sickening snap of bones breaking. Shock and pain radiated through him, constricting his chest so that he had to gasp for air. A swell of heat raced through him, followed by a freezing cold. Struggling to focus, he clutched his arm and searched for Raven, his mind only vaguely aware that chunks of building material were falling down around him.

She lay crumpled on the floor, a good ten feet from where he was. Motionless. His throat closed. Then she began to move, pushing herself up onto her knees and shaking her head slowly.

"Raven," he whispered with relief, grimacing as the pain continued to lance through him like tiny daggers. As if she heard him, Raven turned her head. Her eyes widened. He saw her mouth form his name but couldn't hear the word over the buzzing in his head and the roaring in his ears. Robin followed her gaze up and saw the huge chuck of concrete descending towards him. It came within inches of his face and then exploded, spilling a storm of dust and debris over him. Behind his mask his eyes began to water and he coughed as he ineffectually tried to wave the smoke away with his good arm. Another, much smaller piece of building came crashing down, slamming onto his injured shoulder. For a moment everything went black. When he surfaced moments later, his stomach did a long, greasy roll.

He felt a brush on his leg and saw that Raven had managed to close the distance between them. The look of pain etched into her features was no less than his own. She lifted her arms, calling up a protective dome of black energy to cover them. Then, breathing heavily, she looked up through the wall of purple hair that had fallen forward over her face and met his gaze.

"How bad are you?"

"Not sure," he answered, feeling sweat roll down his cheek. But he felt so cold. "Clavicle. Humerous. My pinky toe." He meant it as a joke but with all the pain rolling through him, he couldn't be sure it wasn't true. "Can you get us out of here?"

She shook her head and immediately regretted it. The spinning nearly pitched her forward. "No. I can't . . focus enough."

BAM!

Something crashed against the shield, causing it to flicker. He saw her shudder as if absorbing the blow. The look of concentration on her face was fierce but he could tell by the glassiness of her eyes that just maintaining the shield was difficult. His stomach tightened and then, just as abruptly, a calm descended over him.

"We're going to make it."

A bit of sharpness came back into her eyes. "Got something in that utility belt that will stop a building?"

"No. I trust you."

"Gee, thanks." But the simple words helped beat back the terror that had been threatening to overwhelm her. She gritted her teeth against the pain and struggled to clear her mind. Focus. Focus.

He laughed softly. "So why weren't you in the T-car?" he asked, while all around them debris continued to fall in a rain of destruction.

"I asked Beast Boy if he wanted to switch."

"And he agreed?"

"Not willingly."

SLAM!

The shield wavered again and the force of the blow pushed her forward, all but into Robin's lap. Her hands slapped down on either side of his hips and she just managed to keep her face from smashing into his chest. The fingers of his good hand wrapped around her arm to steady her. And then to keep her still. Raven looked up and saw that he had an odd little smile on his face.

"You know, just in case we do die here," he began, wetting his lips with his tongue. A strange kind of heat gathered in her stomach.

"You're not going to tell me that you've secretly been in love with me are you?"

His smile widened. "Raven, I'm not even sure I like you half the time."

Her eyes narrowed. "Same goes."

"But I might never have this chance again."

"What chance is—"

She broke off as he gave her arm a sharp tug, tumbling her into him. Her spine stiffened at the contact but when she lifted her head again to scold him, she froze completely. Their mouths hovered inches away from each other. She could feel his warm breath feathering across her lips and it played havoc with her already fractured concentration.

Then he leaned up and closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth firmly against hers.

The heat inside of her exploded and flooded her body like liquid fire. A shudder that had nothing to do with falling debris coursed over her skin, followed by the crackle of energy. She felt it flowing out of her, uncontrolled and fought to pull it back. Her hands lifted to his shoulders, intent on pushing him away. Then he bit, none-too-gently, her bottom lip and she forgot all about fighting. Her fingers curled into his shirt.

There was excruciating pain running along his right side but the moment Raven's lips had met his it had begun to fade into the background. He wasn't one-hundred percent sure why he kissed her. Curiosity. The nearness of death. A mixture of the two that had culminated in a sudden, violent attraction. But now he found himself wondering why he hadn't ever tried it before. Her mouth was soft and sweet, and surprisingly warm as it lightly brushed against his.

Raven pulled away, her fingers still clutching his shirt, her head bowed so as not to meet his eyes. Her heart beat thickly in her ears and she felt wildly dizzy. Though, she couldn't be sure if that was from him or from the blow to her head. The scent of him, a heady fusion of sweat, soap, and hair gel, filled her nose. She wanted to pull further away, but couldn't seem to gather the strength.

"Raven?"

She swallowed. "What?"

"Is it over?"

For a moment, she had no idea what he was talking about. And then she realized she could no longer hear any crashing or crunching. Weakly she reached out a hand, brushing against the solid black of her magic. It dispersed immediately, and light momentarily blinded them both. When they could see again, they found that they were in the middle of towering piles of rubble, all that was left of the once magnificent building. The concrete ceiling was gone, replaced by the blue, cloudless sky.

Awestruck, Robin turned his masked eyes to Raven. "You did it."

She looked at him and felt her heart quiver. What have I done? "Go me," she said mirthlessly.

Then promptly passed out.

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RANDOM TITANS THEATER PRESENTS: "Some Food For Thought."

Robin: What are you thinking about?

Raven: Life. Death. Prophecy. Imminent destruction. You?

Robin: I'm not sure if I want pancakes or waffles.

Raven: . . . .Waffles.

Robin: Yeah?

Raven: Beast Boy makes terrible pancakes.

BB: Dude, I heard that! That's SO not true!

Raven: You're right. Beast Boy's pancakes aren't terrible. They're the worst things anyone could try and eat in this galaxy, the next, and the 300 hundred dimensions in-between.

Cyborg: That's cold.

BB: Yeah. Do you even HAVE pancakes where you're from?

Raven: Something like them. Fleshcakes.

BB: Gulp. I don't want to ask you questions ever again.

Starfire: Please. What are "fleshcakes" made out of?"

Robin: You don't have to answer that.

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Author's Note

Whew, really long chapter that time. Sorry. I kept wanting to end it and then I was like, "eh, then I'll have two short chapters." It's a very Raven-Saves-The-Day chapter but frankly, I think Robin has that honor just a little too often. Got to spread the magic around. Or whatever. Anway!

Chica De Los Ojos Café: Thanks. Glad you enjoyed it. I was reading this comic where Wally was confessing his undying love for Raven. I think it was supposed to be a serious moment but I couldn't help chuckling. He was all like, "Raven, I've loved you since the moment I saw you!" And she calmly explained that if she ever felt anything, she'd destroy the entire planet. And then he was like, "Holy shit, guess I shouldn't have been hitting on you."

autumn in bloom: Thanks! Please, by all means, keep reading! Otherwise I'd have to go back to the streets and my bad performance art.

Fortex: Glad you like it. I think Slade's family is really interesting and messed up. I keep meaning to go deeper into it but they're a slippery bunch. Just seem to pop in and pop out. The thing with Robin is that combat wise, he's always going to fall short of those that have superpowers. But then, it's not his combat prowess that makes him interesting as a character. I think it's the fact that he throws himself into mortal peril without having any kind of safety net that makes him cool. He's the kind of character that jumps off a building and then figures out how he's going to land.

Harpiebird: Thanks!

Haruka-Clone: Glad you're enjoying it.

watergoddess08: Thanks! No worries. Appreciate you reviewing now.

Lost1n7heDark: Thanks! Um . . . a plum?

Lynx16: Glad you like it. Doing my best.

Confushes the wise man: Thanks. It will definitely be continued. We have quite a ways to go before we reach the end. Which, incidentally, I have already written.

nightwingluver: Glad you're enjoying it! I think there will probably be a couple Robin saves the day moments, hopefully with smoother results.

xdire.vixenx: I'm excited that you're excited. Thanks for reviewing.

Cherry Jade: I don't know. Personally, I think Robin was just a tiny bit jealous. I love Clash of the Titans. Couldn't resist throwing it in there and it seemed appropriate.

Neko: Glad you like it! Workin' on a couple more pictures that I hope to have up someday.

finalitylife: Thanks a lot. It's tricky being original while still trying to tie together elements that have already been used. Glad it seems fresh.

They Call Me Sweetsnow: Yeah, I admit. The last Theater was pretty freaky. This one too, actually. And hey, I don't have any problem with people called Wally. It's all Aqualad. He's got a mind of his own. But glad you liked it.

mysti-eyed: Thanks! I like that chapter too. Aqualad was a wicked fun character to write. Sometimes I think hugs are better than random making-out. Not to discount random making-out or anything.

ray1: Gotcha. Beast Boy. :scribbles a note: Beast Boy is actually growing on me. I think if they just made his head a little smaller, it would be easier for me to like him. Big heads freak me out. I'm not sure why. I like the humanness of Robin. I always think of Batman as being unfailingly stoic and Robin as the kid who tries to emulate him, but doesn't quite manage it one hundred percent.