Summary: Raven, ever secretive, ever hiding. But there is one time where she can unleash it all and fear no consequences – in the tempest of a storm. One shot.

Toboe LoneWolf: An old drabble-ish one-shot that popped back into my head the other day. Refused to leave. Demanded posting. Fearing lightning strikes of death, I obeyed. This one-shot traipses across a multitude of concepts, staying upon none and playing with all. I just went with the flow, following the storm, fragments and weird phrases notwithstanding. If it doesn't make sense, well, who said a storm made sense? XD

Disclaimer: Toboe LoneWolf doesn't own the Teen Titans. Or a weather making machine.

I stretch my arms out and tilt my head, welcoming the rain lashing around me. Crashing down, roaring in its fury, washing everything clean. I open my mouth and let rain water run down my throat, laughing in the storm's freedom.

I'm free too.

Here, where the rain pounds and the lightning flashes and the thunder obliterates all other sound, I am free to feel.

Here, my powers mix with the storm, rejoicing with it, welcoming a sister power, one of anger and power and destruction. Here I am with a kindred spirit, one who wields power untapped, unwielded, untamed. One who will never bow to another, one who refuses to back down. My powers rejoice in this, and for this short time I am able to set them loose.

Rage and Happiness, Timid and Courage, all are set loose to fly upon the storm's wings. The storm welcomes them and echoes in its own way.

At this one time, this one place, up on the top of the Tower, I can release my feelings and have no fear of the damage they could do. They mix and meld with the storm's unending power, and I am free.

No one alive can withstand the power of the earth. Not even Slade.

So when the earth brings a true storm, my power pales in comparison. It does nothing to the storm, merely accepts it. I can steer and shield the storm, but I cannot change it. A true storm is indomitable.

Anyone who tries tampering with Mother Nature in its fury is a fool.

So here I am, soaked and chilled to the bone, in the middle of the tempest.

And I revel in its freedom.

The rain pounds down.

The droplets fall, battering down everything in its path, rushing and crashing and running roughshod in sudden rivers of water. No one but I can see the crackling waves of black energy skipping along, sparking as it races to beat the rainwater to get to an unreachable end.

My emotions dance in the caught winds of the storm, laughing and crying in the storm's wings. No longer bound to the confinement of my mind, they are free to express, and I have no fear of losing control. The storm itself watches over them, keeping them in its own confinements.

Rage is in its element, its screams following each lightning strike, echoing the thunder that follows it. She races down with the crashing water's flow, laughing as she rips off edges and destroys pitiful obstructions made to stop the rain. Overflowing, crushing, lashing out at the ones who dared thought that they could limit the storm – and her.

Courage rides the lightning strikes, jumping from one to another in split-second leaps, reveling in the hairline brushes with time. The searing heat sizzles beneath her feet. The lightning cannot hurt her, cannot hurt us. How can it, when the same power runs in our veins?

Even Timid takes flight, although she huddles among each raindrop, only to be broken once it reaches the earth. Broken and reformed, reflected in every falling raindrop, a silent watcher.

Happiness skips among the winds, swirling around in mind-boggling twists and turns. She sings, in a very bubbly and happy fashion, about raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, and how these were a few of her favorite things.

Some emotions are crazy.

My other aspects…they too, are set free. Apathy gathers in the gray clouds; Intellect even higher, above the storm, looking down at all. Loyalty stays by my side, whispering in hisses as water slips down my face. Even Mourning, its woeful cry heard when raindrops shatter upon cold concrete. All of them, every single part of me that I struggle to contain, I release into the storm's power.

If you listen closely, you can hear a raven's cry in between the raindrops.

Even my father cannot reach me here, when the storm rages.

He knows what I do.

He revels in the storm's rage as I do. Though I rejoice in the storm's freedom, he rejoices in its rage. Perhaps he sends these storms to me, that he can watch his daughter's rage seethe among the lightning strikes.

It is a perverse feeling.

The lightning flashes, splitting across the velvet-black sky.

The storm and I are wild children, set loose. Liquid fire born of rage cuts through the obsidian sky. Harsh and savage – there is nothing kind in a lightning storm, and neither in me.

…Perhaps not.

The storm is cruel, cutting down things in its path to make way for itself. And yet, it brings the source of life to the earth, the one thing no living being can be without. It gives, not gently, but violently, giving in both too much and too little quantities.

There is nothing left in a storm's wake, only things that have been stripped away to its core.

Waiting to be built anew.

And so am I.

The thunder roars and crows its defiance to the world.

I laugh.

Yes. My mouth opens and the sound of glee comes from my throat. The titans would be shocked if they saw me.

Perhaps. If they could hear me. If they could see me.

Perhaps they could also see the tears running down my face, mixing with the raindrops.

Perhaps not.

Here I am, standing at the top of the tower, in the middle of the night, amidst in a storm great enough to make even the titans huddle underneath the covers.

Where wind and rain rise in cacophony, where light splits darkness, where there is an ever-present rolling, rushing, defiance of everything the world stands for.

This is where I belong.

I defy the world. I will not follow my father, I will not destroy the world, I will not let my heritage determine my destiny. My future is my own. No matter what the world says, no matter what destinies or prophecies or foretellings tells of my fate, I defy them, here and now, in the midst of the storm. We will not be tamed; we will not be brought down to be harnessed to another's will.

Element to element, power to power. Lightning strikes down to meet its sister standing on top of a strange metal construction, black power calling out for its family. I laugh, waiting for my elder brother to come down and meet me.

The world flashes white.

Welcome to the tempest.