Hey. So...this is not my usual. At all. Don't ask where it can from, I have no effing idea. I have an arc planned out, but me writing more depends on feedback. So review plz?

This takes places shortly after the events of Old Friends, when the Titans have briefly reassembled and Raven and Gar have been broken up--not amicably--for a while. Lian is alive and well and Dick is...off Gothaming or something. He might show up later, who knows?

i'm rating the stoiry down to T for the moment, because I don't think it's THAT crazy. Let me know if you think it should go up. Anyways...here you go.

"Shove over to the left, green-genes, I'm trying to eat here."

"But you're hogging all the sun! If I don't get a little solar energy with my cereal, tin-man, I'll just be in a funk all day. Ain't that right, Kory?"

"For me, maybe, Gar. You, I'm not so sure."

"Whatever, just give the metal man some room so I can finish my toast in peace. God, I thought having breakfast with the twins could give me a headache."

"Of course, the long-suffering father. You and Roy can start a club together: Whining Parents of America. WPA for short. Doesn't quite have the same ring as JLA, but FDR thought it sounded good."

"FDR? What?"

"Do you never watch the History Channel, Roy?"

"No, Garfield, because I have this thing called a life."

"You also have this thing called a stick up your—"

"Can you boys hold off on the twelve-year-old talk until I finish my cornflakes? Please?"

"Sorry, Donna, we'll—Ow! Gar!"

"What?"

"Stop with the scratching already! That hurts!"

"Sorry, sometimes a guy just needs a scratching post."

"For X'hal's sake, Gar…"

"He started it!"

"Your mom started it."

"Real mature, guys. Reaaaal mature."

Just another breakfast with the Titans.

She didn't join them. Why didn't she join them? She could hear them, laughing and joking down the hall. Making fun of each other, bringing up old stories, talking about plans for the day. Like the family they were. Like the family she was supposed to be a part of.

She had no one to blame but herself, she knew that. No one was forcing her to meditate when her mind was anywhere but focused, sitting cross-legged on her bed, unwilling to get up and close the door. No one was forcing her away. In fact, they'd be thrilled to see her there, acting like a normal person for once.

But that wasn't how things worked. Raven wasn't normal. Never had been. And much as part of her ached to try to be, to take a tiny leap of faith and just go have breakfast with her friends…she couldn't. Some days, she could. Others, it was hardly worth it getting out of bed. Just to see Kory and Donna, looking at her with pity, like she was some sad female failure. Just to hear Vic's gentle "good morning" and resent him for meaning it. Just to feel the awkward tension in Wally and Roy, oozing out of their pores as they looked at her. Just to look at him, green hair falling into his green eyes, ignoring his jokes, ignoring his snarking, ignoring the ache in her chest when he grinned…

Okay, breathe, Raven, focus. Meditation. Been doing it ever since you can remember. Just close your eyes and feel yourself as part of the world, part of the universe, part of every dimension…focus…focus…

SLEEP, RAVEN…REST, RAVEN …SLEEP, SWEET RAVEN…REST, SLEEP, INERTIA, SLEEP…RAVEN….

Before the sudden intruder in her head finished speaking, before the echo of the sharp, grating voice faded in the recesses of her brain, Raven had fallen limply back on her bed, eyes closing of their own accord, her body slowing to a deep, heavy, dreamless slumber.

Somewhere inside the room but not from anywhere in the room, there was quiet laughter.

"So. What're y'all up to today?"

"Donna and I are going to go look up some of her old work buddies, see if anyone needs a freelance model or photographer on the side. Both of us could do with some cash, and it'd be nice to have a little job now and then," said Kory, fluffing her hair with one hand. Donna nodded and continued giving her camera the once-over on the couch, checking that everything worked smoothly. She was sitting next to Gar, who sprawled over the whole other half of the couch, juggling the remote and its two batteries. Vic and Kory were perched on various chairs, while Wally absent-mindedly circumvented the room at the speed of sound. Donna tapped her foot on the floor as she tested the shutter at each speed, clicking it every few seconds.

"I just need an excuse to get out of the Tower today, really. The place feels about as claustrophobic as a broom closet for some reason."

"I hear you, Donna. Today is an outdoors kind of day," said Roy with a small smirk. He was standing by the window, looking out over the grounds. "I'm taking Lian to a Little League game. She's thinking of joining a team and I told her we'd check it out. Anyone wanna come with?"

"I'll tag along, if you don't mind," said Vic, raising a metal hand. "I have coffee plans with Sarah, but not until four or so. I'd like to see Lian again, remind her that Uncle Vic does more than sit in front of the computer all day and send her e-cards when he's bored."

"You never send me e-cards, rust-bucket."

"You want an e-card, saladhead?"

"Nah, too much trouble to open them."

"And they make such god-awful noises when you actually get them open. Lian especially loves to play the 'Pop Goes The Weasel' one as often as possible, Vic," said Roy pointedly. "How about you, Gar, you up for some Little League?"

"Most any day I would be, Roy, but not today," Gar said apologetically, shrugging. "I have some research to do, a lot of computer files to clean up. Give Lian a hug from her Uncle Gar, though."

"Is 'cleaning computer files' code for 'watching internet porn'?" asked Wally, casually running a lap around the kitchen and zooming back to the living room. Gar rolled his eyes.

"No, speedster, surprisingly not. I'm doing it for Vic, s'matter of fact. He said he'd give me thirty days to get my junk files out of the Titans' mainframe…today's day thirty. Gotta do it."

"If he doesn't, I'm gonna erase all his old Space Trek promos," Vic said with a grin. Gar rolled his eyes at his best friend and morphed into a cat, turning his back to Vic with great aplomb. Kory giggled and scratched Gar's head, making him purr like a lawnmower.

"Well, Gar, you have fun with your junk—I mean that literally and figuratively—and the rest of you have fun as well. In case you care, I'm taking Linda and the kids to the beach for a day. They love it when Daddy runs on waves without a surfboard," Wally said as he suddenly shuddered to a stop by the door to the kitchen. His friends, used to the sudden stops and starts, barely flinched. Donna sighed contently and placed her camera carefully back into its case.

"Sounds like a plan. I guess everyone's sorted for the day…"

"Except Sleeping Beauty," said Roy, looking pointedly towards the hallway that led to, among other things, Raven's room. Kory frowned, her green eyes narrowing.

"Is she all right? I think she's been avoiding us lately…not coming out for breakfast or dinner, going to her room straight after school. Has anyone else noticed?"

"I wouldn't sweat it, Goldie," said Gar, still in feline form and still enjoying a wonderful scratch at the hands of the buxom alien. "Raven's just going through one of her I-am-antisocial-because-I-pose-a-threat-to-all-mankind phases. She'll sort it out sooner or later."

"The kitty's right," Wally agreed, shrugging. "Give her a little time, Kory. She's an angsty kid now, don't forget."

"You were an angsty kid once, don't forget," said Donna, standing and shouldering her camera. Vic laughed.

"As were we all, Donna. You wanna head out now or what, Speedy?"

"Don't call me Speedy, garbage-pail," grumbled Roy as he went for his coat. Gar morphed back to human form and gave Vic a farewell pound and grin as he and Roy headed out the door. Kory stood, stretched, ruffled Gar's hair as a goodbye, and followed Donna into the hall. Wally, of course, was probably at home already.

Gar morphed into a cat and curled up in a patch of sunlight, purring again. Vic wouldn't be home until late, not if he were going out with Sarah. The files could wait a little while longer…just a little…

HUNGER…YOU HUNGER, RAVEN…YOU WANT TO CONSUME, TO TAKE, TO FILL YOURSELF UNTIL YOU BURST…YOU ARE HUNGRY, RAVEN…RISE AND QUENCH YOUR HUNGER…

She was up like a shot, her shiny black hair falling across her face in a tangled curtain. There was no thought as to the voice of earlier, and no thought to the voice now. There was only hunger, and the desire to eat: a desire so intense that it was long moments before Raven could master it enough to actually stand and force herself, empty stomach aching and cramping with every step, into the kitchen. More seconds passed as she fought the crippling affects of the hunger in her center; then, with almost primal abandon, she began pulling food from the fridge and the cupboards and the freezer, shoving it into her mouth, wheezing for lack of air as she chewed and swallowed gigantic wads. Cereal, baloney, bread, granola bars, bananas, frozen peas, chocolate pudding, leftover pasta, hot dogs, a pot of old chili…all over it disappeared down Raven's throat. It was only after she had chewed the rind from a container of two-week-old lasagna and licked the ice cream cartons clean that the hunger began to ebb. She lay across the table, content and bloated as a floating manatee, her body and face and hair smeared in food. The kitchen looked like a riot had come and gone through it: the floor was ankle-deep in trash and the walls were Technicolor with stains and splashes and smears. She was full, so wonderfully full…and now her mind began to clear…

THE OTHERS…THEY HAVE WHAT YOU WANT, RAVEN…THEY HAVE WHAT YOU NEED…THEY HAVE WHAT IS BETTER…THEY CANNOT HAVE IT…ONLY YOU MUST HAVE WHAT IS BETTER, WHAT IS BEST…DESTROY WHAT THEY HAVE, RAVEN…GET RID OF IT SO THAT YOU MUST NEVER SEE IT IN THEIR HANDS AGAIN…

Again, it was not conscious, not even close. It was a feeling in her gut, in her chest, in her skull, buzzing and scraping against her bones as she staggered, heavy with digesting food, down the hallway towards the rooms of her friends. She knew how to get in: passcodes and scanners were no match for her, not when they had everything she wanted, everything she desired. She would destroy it all, keep it from them…she would be the best, have the best…it was not fair to give it to them…

The next time the voice spoke, it interrupted her trashing of the final room: Kory's, her alien apparatus and keepsakes strewn across the floor, some unharmed but most trampled and stomped on, or thrown against the wall. The wallpaper was ripped and the carpet torn up in places, like all the other rooms, and Raven was in the middle of tearing the mattress apart when she felt the urge to destroy begin to ebb. It was dizzying, this lack of purpose…it made her weave, and for a moment she supported herself against the wall. The voice spoke as she leaned, breathless, trying to stay upright.

HOW DARE THEY, RAVEN…HOW DARE THEY LOOK AT YOU LIKE THEY DO…SPEAK TO YOU LIKE THEY DO…TREAT YOU AS THEY DO…IT IS NOT FAIR, RAVEN…NOT FAIR AT ALL…

The anger was swift and all-consuming, and she could not have held it back had she wished to. She struck and kicked and ripped apart anything she could get her hands on: the walls, the furniture, the floor, her own clothes. Her knuckles bled, her legs crumbled at times, and she found herself intermittently vomiting the mass of food she'd consumed earlier…but it went on full-throttle until, like the others, it ran its course. She finally collapsed on the ground, shaking, unable to comprehend the damage she'd just done. The front half of Kory's room, the hallway, part of the living room…it was all destroyed. Torn apart, as though by a wild animal. The thought of it sluggishly entered her mind, and this time it was allowed to take shape and grow until she understood, as herself, what had happened.

"Great Azar," Raven breathed, clenching her hands into fists and gasping in pain as she did so. What was this…what was happening to her…she needed help…from someone…anyone…a friend…let them be home. Let them be here. Please.

She pulled herself to her feet slowly, wincing at every new point of pressure. If everything else hadn't bruised her up enough, the bout of rage would leave her sore for weeks. Or so she thought. By the time she got to full standing, her feet planted firmly on the floor, Raven found herself feeling, if not fine, then only a little achy, and not even that. She brought her hand to her face and watched as bruises faded all together, going from purple to blue to yellow to pink before her eyes.

I can't feel myself healing; at least, I can't feel the drain of it. But I must be healing myself…what's going on? How is this happening? Why haven't the others come? Why does my stomach hurt so much? Oh yeah…the kitchen…everything I ate. I think I might have eaten that whole jar of sauerkraut. Vic'll be pissed.

The thought of her friend brought back the same urge for help as before, and Raven began to pick her way down the corridor, stepping over and around wreckage. The sight of it made her sick: she could remember doing it, ripping the building apart, but could not remember the reason, the motive, her own intent. It was a strange hollow feeling in her mind, uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

There was a screen and keyboard out of the range of destruction at the end of the hallway; Raven turned it on, entered her passcode, and activated the full-building neuroscan. Vic had installed these small stations so that anyone could perform rudimentary operations that might be needed in emergencies: call for assistance to all reachable Titans, villains' catalogue, and, among other things, a neuroscan to detect who and what exactly was inside the proximity of the Tower. It knew the unique brainwaves of the current Titans and it automatically recorded those of anyone who entered the Tower at any place, making quite a useful device for detecting brainwashing by reading abnormal brainwaves. So far, the scan showed only her and Gar inside the building: he was working in the main computer room, doing god knows what on the mainframe.

That explains why the noise brought no one…they're all out, and the technological insulation down there is too great for the sounds to reach Garfield. Garfield…Why? Out of all of them, why does he have to be the one who finds out something is wrong with me, again? I feel vulnerable as it is around him…but now I have to go to him with this…I guess I need to—

DO NOT BOTHER WITH HIM, RAVEN…BOTHER WITH WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU NEED…YOU NEED EVERYTHING, RAVEN…YOU NEED IT ALL…IT'S ALL YOURS…YOU JUST HAVE TO GET IT…YOU NEED IT, RAVEN, YOU NEED IT BADLY…YOU NEED TO TAKE IT…

This time it wasn't the horrible impulse that turned her consciousness off. This time it was much worse. Her mind stayed alert, awake, thinking…but its thoughts began changing, mutating, until they all agreed with the voice, all wanted to do what it said. She was not brainless this time, she was still Raven; only now, she was Raven who wanted everything, wanted it all, and could figure out how to get it. She would get everything she wanted. It was hers, hers, HERS. Hers.

It took her the better part of half an hour to stockpile an impressive collection in her room. Anything she could get her hands on that belonged to someone else ended up on her bedroom floor: a book of Wally's, a pillow of Donna's, a quiver of Roy's, a bolt of Vic's, a pen of Gar's, a doll of Kory's. All of it she consciously stole, celebrating over her victory, focusing her whole energy on taking and stealing and hoarding. It felt good, so good…Raven had never felt like this before. It was hers, all hers. She had the power now: the strength. Theirs was hers. She could take what she wanted. Who cared about help from the others, it could wait, for now she needed to take it all and make it hers.

The voice struck once more when she was almost out of things to steal. She was sitting on her bed, trying to balance Roy's shoe on top of Vic's coffee mug, when it filled her head again, sharp and nasal and commanding.

YOU WANT HIM, RAVEN…YOU NEED HIM…HIS FLESH, HIS BODY, HIS PRESENCE…YOU NEED HIM TO MAKE YOURSELF WHOLE, RAVEN…YOU WANT HIM SO BADLY…YOU WANT HIM INSIDE YOU…GET HIM, RAVEN, BRING HIM TO YOU AND HAVE HIM…

Again, there was no loss of consciousness this time. No crippling urges, no consuming blankness. But an obsession, strong as a waterfall's downward pull and just as driven, sprang up in her. Desire…desire of the flesh, desire that set her on fire from the inside out…it was everywhere, everything, and her single objective in life became its fulfillment. She did not run off that moment to act on it, oh no. She had to prepare herself. She had to ensure that this rush, this need, this lust would be satisfied. There was no other option.

"Godammit, Vic…this stuff is idiotic…seriously, why can't you just do it…you like computers…I told you, there's no porn in this…stupid robot-head…damn…"

Gar Logan continued mumbling under his breath as he struggled through file after file. Each one was unrecognizable by its title, and seemed to be full of documents and programs that, while familiar, all required extensive exploration to ascertain whether or not they were useful. He'd shoved all this stuff into random folders when he'd first left the Titans, and now he had to go back over his own footsteps and try to make sense of everything. It was really stupid, this whole thing was. And it was making him feel really stupid too.

Gar sighed and leaned back in the chair, putting his feet up on the massive keyboard like Vic always told him not to do. The vast emptiness of the main computer chamber had no distractions. It left him two choices: do what he was supposed to do or think. Neither was particularly appealing.

His thoughts drifted, as often happened (though not so much as usual recently), to Raven. Was Kory right? Was Raven acting weird lately? Did she need help of some kind? He—they—were used to having offers of assistance rebuffed by Raven, but there was no harm done by trying again. She was so fragile sometimes—he just wanted to hold her tightly and make all the things she had nightmares about go away. But the urge to do so, though still frequent when he looked at Raven, was fading in intensity as of late. Gar wasn't sure whether it was familiarity breeding contempt, or at least tolerance, between him and Raven, or whether he was actually getting over her. It would be nice to be over her, maybe. No more wondering, no more hoping. Just peace. And the chance to start hoping for someone new.

A sound behind him was picked up by the hearing left over from being a cat, and Gar swiveled in his seat. Maybe it was Kory and Donna, back from job-hunting, or Vic, stopping home before he met Sarah for—

"Oh my god…Raven?"

"Hello, Garfield." Her voice was low, thick, rough and smooth like velvet. But truthfully, the words hardly reached his ears: he was too busy staring with giant green eyes at Raven's slender form, silhouetted in the faintly lit doorway. She was wearing a dress—not really a dress, though, because dresses are technically clothing. What Raven sported was more or less a mass of ribbons, criss-crossing her skin in dizzying patterns, think and shining and black as her loose, flowing hair. They seemed to be strategically bound to each other, with what force it was impossible to tell; they covered the essentials, though only barely. She might as well have been naked, for all the protection from searching eyes that the ribbons afforded. Of course, most superhero women dressed like that, but this outfit—this was crossing into whole new territory.

"Raven…what…what's this?" Gar stammered as his throat began spontaneously closing up. Raven smiled, her eyes half-lidded. The dimness of the computer room brought out the shadows and curves in her bone structure: she looked like something from ancient times, some dark diety whose appetite was nearly as great as her beauty.

"This…is for you, Garfield." She spoke with that same low voice, rough and slick at the same time. She moved forwards slowly, her body swaying underneath the net of gleaming black.

"For…what?"

"For you. All of it. I want you to take it…to take me." Raven was leaning over him now, pinning him in the chair, her hands clamped onto the armrests. Gar swallowed and looked up at her face, looked into the dark eyes that burned back at him. Those eyes kept him still a second too long: suddenly they came much too close, and the next thing he knew, Gar felt her lips on his, soft and sweet and blazing hot. For a second, that was everything: that connection between them, skin to skin, a bridge between two orbiting bodies.

And then Gar pulled back. God knows it was difficult, nay, impossible to think clearly in situations like this—not that he'd ever really been in situations like this before—but through the haze that was choking his thoughts, Gar recognized the familiar feeling in his spine. Something wasn't right. With Raven, with what just happened…something was wrong. He could sense it as clear as day.

"Raven…stop. Just stop for a sec." With Herculean effort, he pushed past her out of the chair, trying supremely hard to keep from staring at her body as he turned. Raven frowned, her brow furrowing.

"No. I cannot. I want…I want you. Now," she said with a growl, her hands suddenly digging into his chest. Somewhere inches below them, Gar's heart began pumping dangerously overtime; still, he stepped back, grabbing her hands tightly in his.

"Stop it, Raven. You're not you right now. This…what you're doing…this isn't you. This is something else. Come on," he said, leading her towards the door. "Wait here for a sec while I close down the system and then I'm taking you to the medical bay. We can call the other Titans from there."

"I don't want anyone else. I want you…need you…only you." She spoke with equal parts desire and determination, her eyes burning brighter still. Gar swallowed and released her hands, turning back to the computer banks. You're turning her down…HER…after all this time…aren't you sure something isn't wrong with YOU?

"Yeah, well, I'm truly flattered, but something weird is definitely going on with you, and I'm not dealing with another demonic takeover or what have you by myself," he said conversationally, leaning forward to initiate the shutdown sequence. "So you just stand over there and in like two seconds we can go up to medical and—"

It hit him so hard he doubled over reflexively, nearly bashing his head on the computer keyboard. Desire, lust, a sexual need unlike anything he'd ever felt before…and something more, something base, a need for more than just sexual gratification. A need that only flesh, only the movements of another body with his own, the symmetry of two creatures joining together as one, could satisfy. It coursed through his veins, hammered through his heart, radiated from his groin with such intensity that, before he could stop it, a groan oozed out of his throat, low and reverberating.

"Oh…oh God…"

Never anything like this before. Never desire so strong, so consuming. He was instantly hard, instantly shuddering in his own skin. Folded in half, his hands buried between his legs, the world behind him hazy and upside down…

And then her. Standing there, not frowning now, almost smiling, her body taught beneath the shining black bands, her skin a soft, pale color…

He was with her before he could even absorb the urge to move. His hands and arms went around her, groping and grasping and pulling her in and up, to his mouth, crushing his lips against hers. She responded with the same, if not more enthusiasm, twining one leg around his waist and pushing the other between his knees. They fused together, heat growing and writhing under their skin. In his mind, there was no thought, no processing: only want. In her mind, the same.

And then she was tugging at his uniform, pulling it from the top of his body, running her hands and mouth and tongue across every bare inch of skin. His eyes rolled back into his head, his back arched, his hands began to pull the ribbons away from her body—

No…don't…wrong…something wrong…stop it…STOP IT, GAR!

"No." Gar didn't know how he regained control of his voice, let alone his body, but he found himself gripping her arms and forcing her backwards. The coolness of suddenly uncovered flesh made him shiver a little. "No, Raven…this isn't…we can't…"

"We can. We can, and we will." Her eyes were on his, pulling him in, pulling him back. He was drowning again, being sucked back into the abyss after bobbing up for a second of fresh air. Her mouth was on his neck, one hand tangled in his hair and one hand sliding under his uniform, reaching down, down, touching, stroking, gripping…

"No…" One final attempt. One final plea. Futile from its conception to its utterance.

"Yes." And then there were no more words, only the pressure of skin on skin and the warmth of a tongue and the smell of sweat and the building sensation in the body, the feeling of traveling somewhere under a power you cannot control and you cannot suppress and you can never have enough of.

Somewhere, away from the darkness and heat of the computer room, and yet right there inside it, there was more quiet laughter.