So. I'm kinda sorta happy about how this is going. I'm mostly writing because it won't leave my brain, but meh, if anyone likes it, you're welcome to it.

A few points: this takes place almost immediately after the events of Old Friends, which reunited the original New Teen Titans. I know it's not the most popular of stories, but I just liked it because my guys were back together again, and that made me glad.

Lian is alive here. Obviously.

If I get anything agregiously wrong or make it stupid, please let me know. I love these guys but I'm not intensely familiar with the comics right this second...need to get my memory back in shape.

And yet, there are things I regret. I regret not being able to save my parents. I regret what happened to my adoptive father, Steve, and not being able to save him either. I regret the ways that I choose to confront my own pain, and I regret that most who can how I really feel are sorry for me when all I want is salvation, not pity. I regret hurting my friends and family, running away from my feelings, and letting a certain girl years ago twist my emotions into such a knot that I don't even know if they still exist in the same way. I regret many things.

But I don't know if there's anything I regret more than what just happened.

He could feel her pulse thundering, the thrum-thrum of pounding blood moving through her palm and into his chest. Or maybe it was his own heart beat, coming down from that final run, that final high. It made his body shake all over…though that could be happening by itself.

The floor was incredibly uncomfortable, hard and cold and vaguely gritty. Gar began to notice it now, his senses slowly struggling out of whatever snare they'd been tangled in for the last…how many minutes? Ten? Thirty? An hour? Oh god, Gar, what did you do now…

They were both lying on the floor of the tech center, naked, he flat on his back and her twined around his right side. The indicting proof—his crumpled uniform and the scraps of ribbon from her "outfit"—were scattered across the room, up on the computer console and flung under a bank of whirring machines. The two of them only ended up on the floor at the end: before that, they'd pretty much been everywhere else.

She made a noise, very sweet and soft, like the puff of air from a cat's nose when it settles down for a long nap. The hand on his chest, which moments ago had been digging the nails downwards in a last wave of pleasure, was warm and heavy now, the fingers splayed delicately over the thin mat of body hair. Suddenly, she wasn't just lying there—she was snuggling, drawing up her limbs around him and sleepily nuzzling the left side of his neck. Never, in all the time he had known her, had she ever gotten this close to him or anyone else. Not sex, that was different. This kind of soft, affectionate, no-boundaries touching…Raven would sooner dance the conga with Bart Allen than cuddle with another person. And yet here she was, sweet and warm, lying with her head tucked into the crook of his neck.

It was really, really, really freaking him out.

Gar's mind was beginning to clear. Reality was zooming steadily homeward, bringing everything that had just happened into a harsh, revealing light. And in that light, he didn't like what he saw.

I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted her. So why do I feel like throwing up when I think about how soft she is, and why doesn't she sense that I do? I was right before. Before, when I was actually thinking instead of acting like a world-class jackass…there's something wrong with her. There has to be. That's why I feel this way…I think…

"Mhmm…" Raven hummed into his ear, tickling the lobe. Gar flinched automatically, and suddenly he couldn't stand to lie there staring at the metal plated ceiling one more second. Stumbling, falling over himself, he pulled away from her warm embrace and got to his feet, surprised at how unsteady the ground felt beneath him. Whoa…dizzy…oh god, now I really want to hurl…

Keeping his back to her, pretending he was alone in the room, Gar went and retrieved his uniform from the keyboard. It was ripped in a few places: she was strong when she wanted to be, and she had goddamn wanted to be. Bluntly forcing that thought out of his mind, he pulled the suit on, feeling slightly more himself as the fibrous material clung to his body in a familiar, cocoon-like way.

Clothed now, he turned, expecting to face a confused, if not angry, empath—but Raven didn't look confused at all. In fact, she didn't seem to have noticed that he was gone: she was still lying on the floor, stark naked, her slender body curled into a ball. Her eyes flicked back and forth beneath the lids, and some silky black hair dipped towards the corner of her mouth. Her toes clenched and curled gently as she slept. In that moment, she was beautiful. Gar felt a leap of something in his chest, something that had stayed dormant all during their encounter.

She looks different…like herself, but different…she looks…happy.

Hesitantly, he morphed into a leopard and padded towards her, his hypersensitive nose and ears on the look out for something weird. Closer and closer, the heat from her body rippling in his feline eyes…her scent of rich incense, old paper, and a dash of lavender moisturizer so strong it made him dizzy again…her hair, shining and tangled, pooled around her head…please, Raven, be okay—

When she moved it was so quick that had he not been a creature for whom reflexes were stronger than almost any other impulse, her foot would have found its mark precisely and his skull would be in pieces. As it was, even before he realized what was happening Gar was leaping backwards, fur bristling unbearably, a hiss escaping from his throat. She hissed back as she used the momentum from her kick to swing herself into a low crouch, one leg spreading out behind her and the other drawn up to her chest. Black eyes stared into green, and Gar found himself understanding for the first time (even though he'd been both animals before) how a mouse feels in those final moments before an owl gulps it down.

"It's me, Raven." His voice was as steady as he could make it, but it didn't seem to matter: she hissed again and leapt at him, her fingernails raking across his fur and her jaw cracking as it opened wide to bite. A powerful swat from his newfound gorilla arms sent her flying backwards: she crashed into a bank of computers, a feral scream ripping its way through her lips. Gar's heart was thundering, but he became a hummingbird and hovered in the air above her, watching as she picked herself up and snarled.

"Raven, don't give in! Don't let it control you!" It? What's "it"? What the hell am I talking about? This is what's wrong, she's possessed, she must be, or else—or else she's all demon-y again, I don't know, she doesn't have four eyes or red skin and she's not wearing the thigh-highs and oh god what I am thinking, what am I going to do—

She jumped at him again, her nakedness ghostly pale in the dimness of the room. Gar dipped and wheeled away, curving around behind her and heading for the door. Wait, no, not the door! Keep her in here, keep her contained!

But it was too late: Raven was airborne now, speeding after him, screaming something that he couldn't understand because of the pounding in his ears and because it wasn't English. He became a falcon and flew faster, trying to form a coherent thought as they banged crazily through the halls of the Tower, knocking photos down and denting doorways.

Vic's security system. It'll zap us both if I can lead her down to the

His thoughts turned off as though the wires in his brain had been cut. Without losing velocity or momentum, automatically morphing back into human form, Gar fell asleep, hurtling downwards and hitting the floor with a sick thud and cracking noise. He skidded, bounced, and crashed into a wall, coming to a halt into a crumpled pile of green shapeshifter. Raven hovered over him, her face twisted in triumph. The air began to shudder and spark as bands of black electricity leapt around her floating form, searing the carpet and sizzling against the wall.

"Foolish…very foolish…you have no idea, seed-carrier…you do not know what you attempt to herd," she hissed through a mouth that crackled with fire. Gar stirred, slowly starting to rise back to consciousness. It wasn't easy. Consciousness had a lot of pain and fear at the moment.

"Ow," he said, for lack of anything better to say. His vision was scrambled, rug burn was beginning to throb steadily in the places where he'd hit the floor, and his neck hurt so badly that he almost blacked out again when he looked up at her. But she wasn't her anymore—Raven's body and face remained, yet her eyes were black as space and as hot as it was cold. He'd seen her as something else countless times before, demonic and terrifying and thoroughly changed from the quiet, solemn empath he'd known for so long. But as Gar stared up at the vision of Raven that was floating above him, he felt a thrill of something new—it was like the familiar suckerpunch of horror, but multiplied, as though those Ravens of the past hovered somewhere close by, out of sight but certainly not out of mind.

"You see me now, shape-changer? But you do not know what you see…and you do not know what you face…you think that she has unleashed terrors upon you in past, but those were only bad dreams of yours…false and dying with the light. Now I will show…I will show you nightmares."

And, once again led by his animal senses, Gar felt them before they appeared, and he did not like what he felt.

"Swing and a miss!" Roy shouted triumphantly when the third strike hit the catcher's glove. Lian bounced up and down on his lap as the fielding team cheered and began to leave the diamond, while the batter who had struck out trudged back to his dugout with rounded shoulders.

"You never played sports as a kid, did you, Roy?" Vic asked dryly, his cybernetic eye tracking the swirling dust above the pitcher's mound. Roy sneaked a bite of Lian's cotton candy and elbowed Vic's metal ribs.

"Now what did I do wrong, O Sage of Sportly Wisdom?" he asked with mock-reverence. Lian giggled as Vic shot her father a single stink-eye.

"You're being one of those parents—cheering too loud, making the kids feel bad, getting competitive. If Lian actually stars playing, I bet you'll be unbearable. And I don't know if 'sportly' is a word. If it is, you're using it wrong."

"C'mon, Vic, lighten up," drawled the archer, tickling his daughter lightly and smiling as she giggled. "I'm just having a good time. How 'bout you, sweetie, you having fun?"

"I wanna swing the bat!" Lian said earnestly, sliding off Roy's lap and taking a clumsy stance on the bleachers. Vic grudgingly let a grin appear on his face as she swung an imaginary bat, nearly hitting another parent in the back of the head. He reached out to adjust her elbow, but an incoming communication made him pause.

"Oops, call from home, hold on a sec. Yo," he said into his arm, still half-watching Lian wobble around the bleachers while holding onto her father's finger. "Cyborg here, what's up?"

"Vic! I need backup, now!" Gar's yelp was blurred by static on his end, but the urgency in his voice came through clear as day. Roy glanced up sharply as Vic drew his arm closer, boosting the volume on his auditory circuits.

"Gar? Are you at the Tower? What's going on, what do you—"

"Raven! Effing thingies everywhere! They're setting fi—no!" There was a tremendous crash in the background and Vic heard the screech of a capuchin monkey as Gar shifted forms. His heart was suddenly thundering as he got to his feet, earning a few angry epithets from parents behind him. Roy saw the look on his friend's face and got up as well, pulling Lian back to him.

"Daddy, what's wrong?"

"Hush, etai yazi," he said quietly as Vic's brow furrowed.

"Gar? Gar, are you there? Come in—what's the situation?"

"KSHHHHHHHHHHHHemons, I think! Way too many, I can't keep this up, they're outside thKSHKVSHHHHHHHKSSSSKKSSSSSSSSback here NOW, dammit!"

"We're on our way, Gar," Vic said as he began pushing his way to the end of the bleachers. More complaints straggled after Roy as he followed, Lian riding his hip. He couldn't hear Gar's words or the tone of his voice, but the concern and unease was coming off Vic in waves. Something was definitely up.

"Gar, are you okay? Can you—damn!" Vic swore, his great metal arm swinging back down to his side. "Lost the signal. Roy, there's big trouble at the Tower, we need to—"

"Right behind you, but I need to take Lian home first."

"I wanna go see Uncle Gar!"

"No you don't. Want me to call the others on the way?"

"I already sent them SOS pings," Vic said grimly, staring into the distance as steel-plated neurons whirred under his skull. "Donna and Kory just responded…and there goes Wally too. He'll be on his way now." Vic shot Roy a look. "Think I should ping Dick too?"

"Is it a Raven thing? It sounded like a Raven thing."

"I don't know if anything could make Gar panic like that."

"Call him."

"See you there," said the metal man, and then he was gone, running faster than any human without hydraulic pumps and pistons for legs could. Roy ground his teeth together and dug out the keys to his bike. Lian wrapped her arms tight around his neck.

"Is Saladhead gonna be okay?"

"Of course," lied Roy as he carried his daughter towards the parking lot. Damn it, Gar, try not to let her fry you before we get there…