Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans or any of its affiliated characters. I promise that I'm not making any money off of this story so please don't sue me over it.

There was nothing more comforting that she could find in the world than hiding in the embraces of her friends. Not that it happened often. Not that it was for very long when it did. But for those few moments, those precious seconds, Raven felt as if nothing in the entire world (or beyond for that matter) could harm her. Of course, she had different feelings towards different arms and different reasons to be in them in the first place.

Robin had a strict embrace, a sentiment that had only ever occurred perhaps a handful of times in their association. It rather felt like a cross between how a father's embrace would feel, mixed with the reserved compassion of a commander. His arms were strong and they contained her lightly, refusing to restrain her, but gently offering their support. His chest was well toned but not too imposing, for which she was grateful, as it made for an easier surface to lay her head. She would forever associate the smell of hair gel to late night combat practice and the soreness of her joints.

Cyborg's was less reserved than her leader's, albeit more possessive whereas Robin's was protective. He never seemed to like it when something caused her to fall out of her natural demeanor. He more often than not took the role of the older brother, giving her well needed advice but making sure it was tampered with light teasing. His arms were strong but they were cold and metallic, and held her in place until he was sure she was alright or until she used her powers to dissipate into the darkness. He smelled faintly of motor oil and bacon, a favorite meat of his that he used to make Beast Boy squirm, a scent Raven would associate with far too early mornings and new beginnings.

Now Beast Boy's hugs were even fewer in number than Robin's, perhaps two or three, but all of which Raven remembered clearly. After getting over the shock of being in the same breathing space as herself, his arms would lightly touch her shoulders, just in case she should change her mind and hold him accountable. She actually rather liked his hugs, much to her chagrin, but not to the extent that she would ever intentionally seek them out. His neck was once the perfect height to hide her face from his questioning eyes. He smelled strongly of fur and tofu, and Raven would never able to rid his incessant laughing within her mind whenever she should glance at a vegetarian menu.

Starfire's hugs had been numerous and slightly life threatening, not that the alien had intended them to be so, but the Tamerainien had barely grasped her own strength. Her hugs were bone-crushing squeezes that lifted the empath completely off of the floor. She had often been greeted in this manner in the late afternoons, or when the alien returned from shopping or from one of her many date nights with their fearless leader. Most of those times however, the girl would be close tears and came to Raven for cheering up and it was herself who was left doing the actual hugging; not that the empath could blame the girl. She secretly liked to feel needed. Not that she would ever reveal that. Ever. Starfire carried smells from her homeworld, strange and unkown, but they reminded Raven of the mists that occurred right after a storm on a summer's night.

Terra had hugged her on occasion…a half bodied variety that Raven took as a sign of comradeship rather than camaraderie. The small blond possessed a firm grip but a loose hold, as if the earthbender either hadn't quiet trusted the psion or else hadn't trusted herself enough to really relax. Not that Raven had minded, for at the time the pair really hadn't gotten along at all and by the time Raven had cared it had already been far too late. The blond had smelled of fruity shampoo and fresh soil, and whenever Raven steeped into a gardenous area the halfdemon's head filled with harsh worded memories and silent regrets. After a few years she would be unable to completely recall the embraces at all, able to only reclaim the slightest tinges of regret.

But the hug that she would remember the most…was the one she shared with Jinx one hot night in late June. She had been walking along a lightly treaded path within the forest on the outskirts of the city when she felt a familiar tingle signifying the presence of a fellow magic user; Raven, recognizing the particular pattern acknowledged it as belonging to the pink haired hex caster. She allowed herself to cross into Jinx's path or else Jinx allowed herself into the halfdemon's path, she would never really be sure of which, and the two ended up walking side by side without a word between them. It had been a comfortable silence; the years of battling on both sides with each other allowed them a degree of compatible respect. After a few moments however, Raven had noticed the witch's demeanor to be off, her empathy confirming that the pesky pixie was not her normal perky fidgety self.

It had been Jinx to eventually break the silence, as Raven had known would happen, and the lithe catlike girl had solemnly, quietly, told the empath of her problems. Her fears, her dreams and her regrets; all she had laid before the dark titan without pose or apology. Raven, in one of her rarer moments of compassion had done a little of the same. The results would forever be burned into her memory with such detail that she often lost sight of reality when replaying it…

The hex caster's eyes had been filled with so much sorrow, something that hadn't seemed right for someone whose usual manner was happily chaotic. Raven had placed a gentle hand on the extheif's shoulder, and to her surprise the hex witch had clung to her as if drowning man at sea. It had been such a desperate embrace, as if for that one moment Jinx had been grasping for whatever support she could find. Raven, with her innate need to help and to fix, returned the sentiment by wrapping her arms around the hex caster in reply. They had stayed like that until the embrace shifted from utter despair to casual lightheartedness and the pink haired vixen was once again her usual self. She had thanked the empath with a coy Cheshire smile. And then something Raven could never have predicted happened: the witch had kissed her.

It had been a light kiss, a small, blithe, innocent kiss that the girl had placed briefly on her lips in a way of thanks. Raven remembered with perfect accuracy how she was unable to respond and as shortly after her pink haired companion bounced off into the night without any regards as to how Raven was to react. She had watched the girl trod off into the trees and then mentally tracked her with her near sixth sense for as long as she could before allowing herself to breath again. She remembered her fingertips brushing against her lips, as if to recapture the feeling. She also remembered the heat slightly flushing her cheeks. Whatever would have awaited her had she chosen to follow the girl was to be left forever in the realm of her imagination as the communicator's alarm had prevented any such course of fate. Raven had put the kiss into one of the father corners of her mind, but whenever she heard the blaring siren that beckoned her to battle, she would always feel a small pang of loss. And whenever she caught the scent of cotton candy or caught a glimpse of a particular shade of pink, the feeling of mischief soon washed over her.

There was nothing that she could find in the whole world than being within the embraces of her friends. Not that it happened for very often of for very long. But the one embrace, and by extension, kiss, that most often wrapped itself around her attention was the one she felt one hot summer's night in late June as she took and gave comfort to the pink haired hex tossing ex-thief and near hero Jinx. Because for those few moments, those precious seconds, Raven felt as if nothing in the entire world (or beyond for that matter) mattered and that all she needed to do was to have a little fun in the face of "what if".