So, yes, I apologize to those of you who were looking forward to my Jinx/Kid Flash story. This one was just better planned out, and seriously, after chapter 1 I stared at the blank screen for chapter 2 for like, two hours blankly before my head went, ". . . now what?" So I deleted it, and am working on the Beast Boy/Raven one instead. I'm sorry. It just had a better plot and I knew what I wanted through the middle, beginning and everything. But for the other one, I just had an ending. Anyways, the description/summary or whatever you want to call it. REMEMBER, ITS AN OUT OF SCENE STORY:

"Look at me, I'm-," the little boy commented, staring at his hands, ashamed. I interrupted him. "Exactly like me." 'We were best friends from the moment we met. Then we had to leave. I never saw him again, and I never expected to. But I never forgot him.'

Raven's been waiting forever with her mother, Arella, and many of her friends, for something she never thought she'd see again. And now, this creature is haunting her home, and no one knows what it wants. But Raven can't help but wonder . . . what else do creatures want, but mates . . .?

Chapter 1
"Childhood Friends"

We were so young. We were both at that age where we wanted to trust the strangers our parents had warned us about. Some of us, every time a man or woman without another near them walked by, we'd cower away from them, always wondering what they would do that people were so afraid of. But others of us were stupid, or ignorant rather. Rather then afraid, they were curious. Or maybe they thought of themselves as brave. When I took the time to think about it, and I had to categorize him, he'd be one of those 'brave' kids. And yet, he wouldn't be ignorant. He'd know when he was beat, and run. That's what I thought of him as. A runner.

I found out much later I was sorely wrong. But this was years ago.

We were only five. What did we know?

I wondered among the grass, touching everything. Mother said we had to be moving constantly all over the world as a field trip. She wanted to show me as much as possible so I could see anything my little heart desired. I didn't know why. I didn't care either. Again, later, I found we were running and succeeded in hiding after they were killed. I didn't know They and I still don't. Again, I don't care. They're dead.

But as I touched things in the savanna, I wondered how they got their. Not just the grass. The sky, everything. I used to do that often. Then I'd get distracted by a flower and forget everything else existed but that one pretty things. I liked colors. My favorite were green and blue. Those two colors made the sea, which I'd seen and traveled over many times before, very pretty to look at. I liked pretty. I tried to make everything about me and anything around me pretty, if not beautiful. Many people told me I succeeded at it. And no, it just wasn't that 'encourage the children' talk. It was really, truly amazing the way I saw small details that unintentionally made big pictures nice to look at too. But I never saw nice pictures. Just the little separate details.

But enough of that, let's get back to what you want to hear.

Someone in the village we were staying at told my mother and I about some river to get water from. And then there was another for children to play in. Many villagers patrolled the borders and insides of their town, and after some invisible wall, they all seemed to disappear. So, my mother and I thanked the woman, my mind only on the 'where children play' river when we stopped, the woman calling after us.

"I nearly forgot to tell you," I translated in my head. She actually spoke a different language my mother and I had learned before-hand. But that's what she would've said had she spoken English. "There is also another river. Strange territory. Watch after outcasts. Strange people. Do not act or look right. Try to stay away."

My mother looked at her for a long while before nodding. "Thank you." She said (again, in another language). "We shall watch out for the village."

I think she was insulted. She had purple hair, a wig on her head. My hair was short, and I also often wore wigs and glasses. The glasses seemed tinted, to hide my real eye color. I might as well tell you. I have purple hair and purple eyes, like my mom. My mother was a thin, somewhat pale woman. I was very pale. More-so then her. I don't know what happened to my dad and that's also in the category of 'doesn't matter'. He left, I think. And if he did, then he doesn't deserve curiosity.

Also, an odd thing about me . . . I don't know where I got them, or how, and this is one of the things I want to know, for my mother does not have them, I have these strange powers inside of my body. It took my years to master control, from the day I was born. But though I was unable to fight at this age, as I would need to know as I grew, I thought I had them completely under control. And for the most part, I did. I just couldn't lift objects greater then that of elephants (believe me, I'd had the opportunities to try, and did, on various occasions).

Now my mother and I went to the outskirts of that 'Strange Town' in the savanna, and I loved the seclusion. My mother bade me free for hours on end, but she had taught me to get away and she did have one power, apparently. She knew when I was in danger. She would always find me, when I feared for my life, or was hurt somewhere. I would call her, and she'd always come get me.

So that's what I was doing now. I was free, and now running towards some trees, because the odd town wasn't just odd for its inhabitants. The place became forest-like, and grew water in strange places. It was a crescent and went for as far as the eye could see, and if you followed it, it would lead you to where the land ended. But I wasn't that ignorant. I had no desire to follow it, as most children would. No, I wanted to see the river I'd heard so many times that mother had given me odd looks for hearing. She'd only seen the forest at all because something howled in it. She'd made me run with her, saying it was a game. But I wanted to see the forest. I found later only the innocent could see it unless you'd seen it before. It made me wonder how much blood my mom had on her hands. Magic innocence is designed of blood. If you've never killed, you're innocent. If you have, you're not. Just that simple. Who she killed, you'll find out later.

So as I approached that forest, I pushed through the underbrush, grunting in my high voice and whining in huffs as pricks got at my body, hair and face. When I was finally through, I dusted off my leotard and cape. I dressed oddly. My mother wore a cape and dress, while I wore a leotard with a gold belt and cape. I also had something like combat-boots, but were much different, in ways.

Thankfully, my exposed thighs remained unharmed and I stared in amazement at the sight before me. A long river with rocks and pebbles along the edges with lush, green plants and other things of the sorts. There was at least ten feet of grass before you touched the river thought. The trees stopped before it's squishy grass. I grinned after a moment. Some large boulders were scattered among the stream every now and then, but I was and am nimble. I can also levitate, if necessary, but for this I just hopped over things.

Now, this is where you'll want to have started from if you're skimming my story. A plop from the water filled my ears and I whirled around. There were no fish, I could sense, within this river. For what reason I did not know but that didn't matter.

The plop was far off, and I heard it again. The river was very wide, I shall mention. About eight feet.

I began walking slowly in the direction of the plops, slowly gaining speed until I was racing through. I froze, having not made a sound (my boots helped with that) and still going unnoticed by the thing sitting down with its head slumped down. So maybe this was what made the sounds.

My suspicions were confirmed as the thing picked up a small pebble from the pile of unnoticed rocks and flipped it in its hand, tossing it in the air a few times. I gaped. That was certainly not normal. My powers pulled my hood up, out of automatic response (having left my wig back home because I hadn't expected company) to hide from people. The hand tossed the pebble in the water sadly and without actual care. With yet another plop, it sank into the river and was probably pushed along under the water by small current. Then I remembered what the thing was. A boy.

Stop laughing. I was five and hardly saw woman, let alone children of my own age. Or men for that matter, and especially not little boys. Certainly not ones my age.

I took a step forward, not bothering to be quiet anymore. He wouldn't harm me. I sensed no aggression from him. Oh, yes, I'm also an empath. I can sense emotion or life forces, which is how I knew about the fish. The elvin ears pricked up, and I turned my head to the side slightly, curious as to his appearance. He was afraid, I could tell. He was prepared to run, and would not fight me. He turned to look at me with green eyes.

Then again, all of him was green. Just in different shapes. That didn't matter to me. I was purple, he was green. Maybe there was someone out there who was orange.

We stared at each other for a long time, him looking fearful, to confused, and then just staring.

"Hello," I said eventually, not moving.

He looked nervous again. "H-Hello."

I smiled, he spoke English. "Can I sit with you?"

He was hesitant, "Uh . . . okay." He turned away from me, and I could feel he just wanted to pretend like I wasn't there. I could tell he wanted to pretend like he wasn't there.

I decided to be quiet about my movements and made my way to his side silently, sitting next to him with my legs crossed while he moved so his legs were up against his chest. We remained quiet for a while. Then he turned to me.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" We both had oddly advanced vocabularies for five year old's. Neither of us talked with that whining-accent children our age were entitled to. Mother said I was born an adult, and laughed about that. All I had was a high voice. His was also just a bit higher as well.

My head went back, as if insulted, but I was not. I didn't understand the question at the time. So I answered the obvious. "Because you're not scary." He looked confused. "Why would I be scared of you?"

The boy blinked at me a few times before frowning sadly, his head sagged again. "Because everyone else is."


He gave me a dirty look, as if I was missing the obvious. I narrowed my eyes at him. I wasn't an easily intimidated child. Not to mention I was still trying to find what was so wrong with him that people would be afraid of him. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No," I replied honestly, relaxing again. He was paranoid. Probably for good reason.

Then his shoulders slumped, and he looked like he was going to cry. I became afraid, I'd never seen crying before nor had I experience it myself. I didn't know what it was at the time. I thought he was breaking, to be honest. Like he was defective.

"Well, look at me," he said sadly, his hands rising as he looked at them with hatred. Again, I didn't understand. How can you hate your hands? He continued, "I'm-."

So, being stupid, I interrupted him, "Exactly like me."

He looked at me, his turn to misunderstand. "What? You're not green."

"What?" I echoed. Then I laughed. "No," then, not thinking, I pulled off my hood and glasses. "I'm purple, see?"

He stared at me. Then, after a moment, he smiled, those odd 'water droplets' still in his eyes. "You're different too!"

I blinked, still smiling a little. "I guess I am." I reached out and touched his face, as that water leaked down his face. It landed on my finger, and he seemed surprised at my actions. I pulled back my finger and watched the water. "What's this?"

"You don't know what tears are?" He questioned back.

"T-Tears?" I stuttered, learning a new word. He nodded, I shook my head. "No. Mother never taught me tears."

"Well, when you get sad, you start crying-."

"Crying," I said slowly. I looked to him for approval, and he nodded once more. I felt proud at getting both words right.

"Yep," he said, still nodding. "Or, to cry." I did not repeat this word. I'd already said it's past tense, I did not need to say the same word with less syllables. "When you get sad, or you get hurt, water gets in your eyes, and makes em all red until you stop."

"Red eyes?" I said, shocked. Once again, he nodded. "Do most people know what it is to cry?"

"Yes," he said, almost sadly.

Then I frowned. "If the average person gets red eyes from crying, then why are they mean to you because your skin is green?" I questioned, angry at these people. This boy seemed nice enough. Why were they mean?

He seemed to consider this before sighing, "I don't know . . ."

I then decided to change the subject, seeing how sad he was. I picked up a rock and held it in front of him. He jerked back in surprise.

"What were you trying to do with these?" I asked. I hadn't forgotten. I wanted to know.

He took the rock from me, seeming in a better mood at being asked. "Skip the rocks over the water, watch!"

This boy seemed in deep concentration as he began spinning the rock in hand carefully before finally tossing it. I watched in amazement as it jumped on the water, making ripples on the surface as it went halfway across the river before finally sinking.

"See?" He said, picking up another rock and handing to me. "You try it."

I took it in two fingers, never lifting my eye from the gray stone. "Do I have to use my hands?"

He looked confused, "Well, no, but, what else would you use?"

I didn't answer. I turned my eyes away from him, closing them as I faced the water. I could feel his stare on my pale skin. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos," I breathed, and then when I opened my eyes, the rock was glowing black. I spun it a little with my powers and then flicked my finger out towards the water. It skipped farther then his, almost all the way across before it sank to the bottom.

I turned back to him, waiting for him to run. He stared, but not in horror as I expected. Almost like . . . admiration?

"COOL!" He suddenly shouted, making me jump. He saw my fear and smiled weakly, "Oh, sorry. That was really cool though! How'd you do that!?"

I was amazed myself. Everyone besides mother who had seen me use my powers had to be tranquilized and then had their memory wiped. And he thought it was . . . cool? This was one thing I knew. Cool was not temperature, it was slang. He liked it?

"Y-You're not afraid of me?" Despite his reaction and no negative emotions whatsoever on his person, I was in denial. He was a first, not having ran. I'd never seen it before. But he seemed to be showing me a lot of things I'd never seen before.

He laughed, "No, well . . ." He looked ashamed again. "I mean, being green isn't the only thing that scares people about me."

"What else?"

He took a deep breath, "Promise not to run?"

"You didn't run from me."

He gave me a appreciative smile that I returned before suddenly, this boy in black and purple clothing morphed into a fox. I knew what a fox was, but I didn't know what tears were. Now that I think about it, that is just . . . odder then I originally thought. Soon after changing, he was human again.

"See?" He mumbled.

"And other humans . . . they can't do that?" I said, needing information. He shook his head. "Well, I think what you can do is pretty, not scary. It's better then having the ability to change eyes red," I huffed indignantly.

He laughed at me again. "I guess so. But, pretty?"

I nodded, "Pretty."

"What's pretty?"

I looked horrified, apparently, because he laughed again. "I'll show you," I said, reaching into the lake and grabbing a rock. The water got on my sleeve, but I didn't mind. Pretty was far more important that getting a little wet. Besides, in this heat, it would dry soon enough anyways. After turning it around a few times in my hand, I took his wrist and put the white rock inside of his, pointing. He gave a confused look before following my gaze.

"That is pretty," I said, proud of my discovery.

". . . It's a rock," He said after a moment, plainly.

I smiled again, so he was one of those people who didn't see pretty like I did. "Look again," He did, and I waited. He wasn't really looking. I could see it in his eyes. It seemed no one could look the way I did unless I showed them how. "Here, let me show you."

He looked up at me, then down at the rock. I pointed again, "See the water?" He nodded. "The water is protecting the rock, see? And it's also destroying the rock at the same time, just like the light hitting the water," I said, pointing to the slight glare it was giving off, "Is making it evaporate slowly, eventually destroying the water-."

"Is that what 'pretty' is?" He interrupted. "Destruction?"

"Let me finish!" I said, shaking my head. "No, that's not pretty. That was what you see, even though you weren't thinking it." He opened his mouth to question my logic, but I continued anyway. "So all you see is something that isn't pretty. But pretty is when things work in harmony, like the sun on the water and the water on the rock. They don't hold grudges against one another for what they'll eventually do to each other, they just are." I said with finality. "Things working in the right way to make something," I held up the rock to the light, blocking it. A rainbow came off the water and reflected on the white surface, as I knew it was. "That's nice to look at."

"Whoa," I heard him breath.

I put it down, putting the rock back in his green hand. "That's what pretty is."

He smiled at me, and I smiled back. "I like you," he said eventually, looking back to the water as I watched him. "Besides the man in my village, you're the only one who hasn't run from me."

"I'll never run from you," I promised.

"Thank you," he replied, very quietly.

We sat together for a long time in silence, skipping rocks every once in a while. Then, his ears went up again and he whirled around, jumping to his feet. I turned around, confused. I got to my feet as well, but more slowly. His eyes were huge as he scanned the forest for something I could not see.

"What-?" I began, but he covered my mouth. I did not object. My mother had done this before. They weren't being rude, they were just trying to protect you.

Eventually, you get your answer. And he did give it to me shortly after.

"Someone's coming!" He whispered, urgently and looking afraid. I felt safe with him though, and so I did not. "Can you run?" I nodded. "Then come on!"

And then the two of us began running, faster then I normally did with mother when we were 'playing'. Faster then I ever had. He seemed very afraid, and yet neither of us seemed to get tired. Slowly, I began hearing things like shouts and barks of animals. I recognized the sound as 'dogs', though I had never really seen one. But he became afraid. We stopped, him pulling me to a halt. He'd been holding my wrist since we'd started running, and yet he still had not let go.

"We need to cross the river," he said, still quietly but quickly. His ears were still up, listening for things I was unable to hear. "Do you think you could use your powers to make-?"

"A bridge?" I finished. He nodded, eyes hopeful. "Sure, I can make a bridge."

I turned, waving a hand across the air. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos."

A bridge of black energy appeared, and he looked relieved. We crossed quickly and as soon as we were across, I pulled my energy back. He pulled my wrist when I was done and we hid behind a large boulder. He finally let go, and the two of us sat, our backs up against the rocks as we hid and our knees against our chests.

"What're we hiding from?" I whispered.

He looked so scared. I felt so sorry for him. He seemed so used to this though, despite being afraid. "The people afraid of me . . . they want to hurt me."

"What!?" I demanded, apparently a little too loud.

"SSH!" He hissed, waving his arms frantically. He motioned for me to be quiet as he listened, and then spoke quietly again. "My adopted father said that people are afraid of things they don't understand. So, I have to hide from them so they don't find me."

I got something then, "You're adopted?"

He nodded, and those tears came back. He shook them off. "My parents were in an accident a couple months ago . . . but, what about you? You only mentioned your mom."

"I don't have a dad," I said calmly. "I never did, as far as I can remember."

"Oh," he muttered. I was content to staying silent before he turned to me. He whispered, gasping almost, "Hey!"

I didn't get it. Hadn't I already said hi to him? My brow rose, I could feel it. "Uh, hi?"

"No, uh, hey as is, 'hey, I just realized something'." He explained, embarrassed. He rubbed his neck.

"Oh, well, what did you realize?" I questioned back, the voices were coming closer, I could hear them clearly now.

He stood up straighter, since we were well hidden behind the large rock. "I don't know your name."

I blinked. I hadn't realized that. "I don't know yours either," I pointed out.

"I asked you first."

"It matters?" It was an honest question. Did it matter?

"Well, no, but," he stopped, shaking his head before smiling at me. "I'm . . . I'm Beast Boy now. What's your name?"

"Raven," I replied. I'd always liked my name. It was like-.

"Like the bird?" I nodded. "That's-."

The voices were now shouting at their dogs to pick our scent back up. Someone said, "Someone is with him!" And another replied. "But the chief's back in town! I know he is!" And yet another said, "Well then who else would tolerate him?"

I was getting mad, and Beast Boy saw that, apparently. My hands were glowing black and my eyes were narrowed as we listened. He placed a hand on my shoulder, shaking his head. They weren't worth it, his face said, and I reluctantly let my hands revert, the energy around them disappearing.

Eventually, the outsiders from other villages disappeared, and after a long wait, Beast Boy dubbed it safe to come out of hiding.

"How dare they say that about you!" I snapped, glaring after them and kicking a rock into the lake before huffing and sitting back down. He sat next to me, watching the lake without a word. I turned to him, confused as to why he was not outraged. Slowly, I then I began to understand, and calmed. Beast Boy seemed to notice.

"They're dumb," he said plainly. I watched as he fiddled with the pebbles on the floor. "You can't be mad at someone who doesn't understand."

"Well why not?" I mumbled. He shook his head, not looking at me, but smiling now. It was sly, as if it held secrets. He suddenly dove his hand into the lake, splashing water as he pulled it back up. I squeaked, and he ignored my sound.

"Same reason these," he said, holding out his hands. I looked at them and then at him, my brow rising once more. He was stealing my metaphor, it seemed. He held rocks, all wet. "Are pretty," he finished. "They destroy each other, but in the end-."

"You make an interesting story," I finished, with a reluctant smile. I nodded. I understood now. Then I realized how late it was. I stood, and he looked alarmed, standing with me. "I have to go," I said, before he could worry. He seemed sad, looking at the floor, but nodded.

"Okay," he grunted, glaring at the floor. I smiled.

"Goodbye," And then I hugged him. He seemed surprised, and did not know what to do for a while. So I eventually pulled away, and then began walking home.

"Wait!" He shouted after me, I turned, and he was running towards me. I watched confused but he suddenly grabbed my wrist and dropped something into my hand. "Take that," Then he smiled, "It's my lucky charm, so we'll be able to find each other again. So take care of it!"

I looked at the little silver, green and metal charm in my hands before curling my fingers around it and nodding. I looked up at him, smiling. "Okay."

We left the very next day. My biggest regret, you wonder . . .?

I'm fifteen now, and have not seen that boy since.

First chapter is done!