Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans.

A fresh, cool midnight breeze soothed Raven's face as she stood in the shadows of the Tower's roof.

The watery moonlight showed that she had rolled up the sleeve of her right arm, and was staring at the arm that was covered in fading marks that had once been livid. Though it had been several hours, they throbbed just as much as they had when they were fresh.

Raven stared at them; they were left sore and raw, some oozing dark, sluggish blood, and she knew from the last time they had shown on her flesh that they would be for several days, at least.

There was one mark that she knew would never go away. She rolled up her left sleeve, then hastily smoothed it back down again. On it, the old wound, the scar that showed where Trigon's sigil had been carved into her flesh as a child, was grown sore and inflamed. It was strange. Normally, it was livid but did not ache like a fresh wound would. But as her birthday had approached, it had begun to twinge, softly at first, but then more violently. When she ran her finger over it, the skin felt cracked and jutting; the scar was beginning to open again. She wondered how long it would be before it started to bleed, as it had the last three times Trigon's influence had been prominent within her.

Raven held her left fist to her chest, bowing her head. No matter how she attempted to escape the reach of her damned sire, she was marked out as being one of Trigon's own for the rest of her days.

Hello, birthday girl. Ready for your present?

She had gone to the party hiding these marks, raking some dark hairs down over her forehead, keeping her cloak closer to her than usual, and putting on a light perfume, praying that Beast Boy wouldn't notice the coppery miasma of blood about her that night.

She stared up at the starry sky, wondering if they were the eyes of those who would accuse her. Strange, spine-chilling voices would nowadays rise in her ears, saying Traitor…Harbinger of he who would destroy us all.

Raven wanted to scream at them that she didn't want to do any of what they charged her with. That she never wanted to do it. I didn't want this! I won't let it happen! I can't let it happen!

"Raven?"

She whirled around, forgetting to smooth her sleeve back down over her right arm before her leader came to stand beside her.

"Looks like an allergic reaction."

"What?" Raven gasped, staring at him. She hadn't processed his words; she'd been too worried about having to defend herself against accusations.

"Your arm," Robin explained gently, taking hold of her wrist and drawing her arm out so the revealing light of the full moon touched it. "It looks like an allergic reaction. Something you ate?"

Raven shook her head violently, relieved that Robin had mistaken the hellish runes for rashes, and that he could not see shapes in their depths. "I don't think so. Probably not. I don't remember ever having an allergy to any foods."

"Well, anyway, you should put something on that," Robin remarked offhandedly.

"I'll do that," Raven whispered unevenly. She rolled her sleeve down and drew her cloak about her small frame, attempting to ward off the cold of mid-autumn.

"I just wanted to see if you were alright." His voice was quiet and carried a note of worry to it.

He was always worried.

"I heard you scream." He was leaning on the side of the door, gasping as though he had run very hard; his brows were drawn up in clear and pained anxiety.

She blinked, holding her breath. What could she possibly say? "Just…a nightmare," she gasped, reaching a hand to wipe the sweat off of her flushed face.

That was the only thing she could think of to explain it away. And it wasn't a lie, strictly speaking. It was a nightmare, a waking one.

Robin sniffed the air, and gave her a strange look. "Is something burning?" He asked disbelievingly.

Raven opened her mouth, knowing there was no easy answer for this. But then the alarm went off. "Trouble," Raven said, her voice shaking, as she looked up from her blinking brooch.

"Are you alright?" she retorted. "You didn't exactly come out of this unscathed." It was true; Robin's somewhat awkward movements bespoke his bruised ribs, which Raven had healed to the point that he would be alright in a few days. But he was still aching from the events of the night.

"You always were good at throwing people off." Robin's voice was soft, and might as well have been one of the tendrils of wind snaking its way between them. "But that's not going to work tonight. I just want to be sure that you're going to be alright."

"Robin, please, just drop it." Raven's shoulders drooped wearily. "You're right, I'm not alright. But I will be. And please let go of the issue of my uniform being ripped (1)."

The black material hung in shreds off of her shoulders. Her midriff was exposed. Raven blushed and folded her arms over her stomach.

Robin compassionately removed his cape and handed it to her.

This elicited a whispered curse word out of her leader. Despite herself, Raven couldn't help but feel comforted by him being even more hyper-over-protective than Cyborg usually was.

Time won't wait forever. You can't run away from who you are.

Raven shuddered, hoping Robin wouldn't see. How long would it be, before Trigon came to claim dominion over the Earth? Months? Weeks? Days?

What you have concealed, you shall become.

Raven didn't want to know what that meant. Did it mean that she'd be consumed by the evil she suppressed? Did it mean that the side of her that she beat to an inch of its life would eventually dominate her?

That was the easily the most exquisitely cruel torture Raven could think of. Not even having her heart ripped out, as she had before…

"Raven?"

She looked at Robin. He had never before been so tentative in asking her questions. She didn't know quite what to think about that.

He didn't look at her; he continued to stare out at the lovely full moon, hanging low in the sky. "The others are still downstairs, partying." As an afterthought, he seemed to mutter, "…four in the morning and they're still going strong, wired on sugar and coffee. How they found the coffee when they were so wired is beyond me."

Raven smirked, her delicate face showing humor for the first time in a very long while. "This is Starfire, Beast Boy and Cyborg we're talking about. Do you even need to ask?"

He snorted. "No." Robin grew more serious, his brow furrowing. "Raven, I was just wondering, how old are you this birthday."

Raven bowed her head, peering at him through the corners of her eyes. "Eighteen."

A high whistle came. "Hell of a way to spend your eighteenth…"

Raven nodded. It was indeed. Raven had spent every one of her birthdays since finding out about the prophecy at five in terror, wondering if that would be the day that the final curtain would begin to fall. But when she thought about it, it made perfect, pitiless sense that it would be on her eighteenth birthday. Eighteen. The coming of age.

"Raven. I just want you to know. When Slade comes back, we will protect you. I'll protect you. I won't let anything happen to you. I swear."

Raven heard him, and listened to his words with dismay, and a strange warm feeling in her chest, but was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she barely even noticed that Robin had moved closer to her.

Without any warning, he pulled her into a tight embrace, one hand at the back of her neck, the other resting on the middle of her back.

Raven was surprised, but instead of pulling away, she wrapped her arms around Robin's neck and buried her head in his shoulder. With all the fight gone out of her, she was ready to simply trudge to her room and sleep, and she was more than contented to lean into his embrace.

He had promised to protect her. Robin truly had no inkling as to how dangerous trying to protect her would become. Raven's heart sank to know that the time would come that he may end up ruing the day that he had sworn not to let anything happen to her, and when that day came, she would either bend to Trigon's will or break in the process. But that day would not come for a while yet, and until then, she was content to let him think that he could shield her.

Who knew, maybe he could. But in the end, Raven feared that all Robin's protection would accomplish would be his death.

1: That was for anyone else who was freaked out when Slade started ripping off Raven's costume. Older viewers, don't try to look me in the eye and tell me that didn't freak you out.

Okay, this feels a bit rushed, but it's the best I can do. Neither one of them are great conversationalists, and neither am I, and I guess that really bleeds through.