Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans.

Rated for language and mild blood.

>>> HEAL >>>

They know that I can heal them; take away their pain until the wound closes.
They appreciate it, tell me so, and thank me when I'm done…
But what they don't understand is how I can do such things.
I don't want them to know.

Raven slammed into the wall, a cry escaping her unwilling lips as pain blasted through her. Struggling to her feet, she gripped her arm with a hand as her anger grew. She was tired of being tossed around, tired of being hurt, and tired of trying to hide the injuries from her teammates after one brutal fight to another. Her eyes glinted red as the half demon chanted in a growing voice.

"Azarath Metrion ZYNTHOS!" Black power collected around Cinderblock and crushed his outer shell completely as the warning waves of neon flashed by her unseeing eyes. Abruptly Rage released the grip on her and she caught herself before she stumbled.

"Raven! Are you okay?" Robin. Of course. She pushed aside his outstretched hand, straightening.

"Of course. If I wasn't, I'd tell you." A lie, but did he know that? "Who's hurt?" Ignore her own pain and wounds- the others were more important. After all, she was the child of a demon, born to bring her Father to Earth and release his power over all. Better her hurt than anyone else.

"Dude! Star, that looks like it hurts."

"I believe the expression is, damn straight?" The alien's wince as she held her side, trying to prevent the flow of blood, was enough.

"Let me see, Starfire." Raven walked over, ignoring the jarring sensation that came with every step. Her teammate started to shake her head, but at Raven's steely eyed glare, ceased to resist. The violet haired teen knelt, examining the wound. Deep, but not fatal. Something she could take care of.

Closing her eyes, Raven concentrated on drawing the healing power to her hands, focusing on removing the pain and wound from her friend's side. As the cold glow surrounded her hands, Raven felt a pang of agony but hid it with the swiftness of practice, knowing she could not let the others see. When she opened her eyes, Starfire was holding one of her hands and looking very concerned.

"Friend Raven?" She stood, brushing off Star.

"I'm fine. Let's go home." The Titans did so, not questioning but thanking her. Raven didn't listen, but gazed at the rushing blue sky overhead in the T-Car. It wasn't important, what they thought. She had helped, perhaps, to pay some of the debt she was going to incur when Trigon debuted in Jump City.

In her room, away from prying eyes and potentially awkward questions, Raven stripped and looked over herself in the mirror.

One broken arm: Not that bad. Only a minor break.

One open wound in her side: At least Starfire wasn't hurt. It would heal eventually.

One sprained ankle: Gotten when the cement beast had grabbed her by the foot and swung her. Damn, it hurt to walk.

One mottled pattern of bruises over her torso: The whole fricking building deciding to collapse on top of her.

One slight concussion: Same as the above.

Feeling light headed from both loss of blood and concussion, Raven rinsed herself off of the blood and bandaged her wounds one handed, choosing a near invisible splint to go under her leotard. No one would notice if she stayed cloaked more than usual. No one ever noticed. Dressing once more in a clean outfit, the teen took one last look at the mirror. Under her eyes, hidden by a constant application of grey foundation (which was so fucking hard to find it wasn't even funny), the black rings told multitudes of her late nights trying to control her powers. Concealed by her hair, one ear bore claw marks from rogue demons trying to attack her in order to force the portal open for their Master. Around her throat, covered by the cloak line, a healing scar spoke of one particularly clever Blood cultist figuring out how to get into the Tower and trying to kill her.

Of course, the Titans never knew.
Because I didn't want them to.