Once upon a time

Disclaimer: I don't own TT.

In a story of betrayal, death, love, hatred, and unspeakable power, there is no once upon a time, just as there is no happily ever after. But as always there is a beginning and an end.

This story begins in a small desert town called Rokton. It hadn't rained in 2 months and it was hotter then ever. It was 115 degrees Fahrenheit that day so many years ago...

"Another scorcher today folks but bring some blankets because tonight will have record lows" A nearby radio had suddenly burst into life to alert its owner that it was in fact 5 a.m. The owner of the radio shuffled out of bed and turned off the radio. He tossed on an old near moldy grey shirt and a pair of once black shorts though they were now more of a green. He was only 32 years old but the 5 o' clock shadow and bulky muscles made him look older. He shoved on his old army boots and strayed sleepily into the bathroom. People often told him that he should go to the bathroom before he got dressed, but this is how he'd gotten up for the past 5 years and it's how he was going to get up for the next 5 years. After that no one could tell. After brushing his teeth he walked bravely out into the heat to open his family store. He arrived to see that there was already a young man waiting there. He didn't see the young man until he was standing right next to him. The young man was wearing a pair of dusty khakis and a shirt that was once white but now a yellow brown color that was the color of the sand that was all around for miles and miles. His skin was lightly tanned as though someone had covered him in dust, and his hair was blond but also covered in dust and sand. His eyes though were a piercing blue, the only sign of water in this endless desert of a boy. These two only had one thing in common at the moment. They were both standing in front of Bruce's Variety Shop. Bruce nodded at the young man, who could not have been older then 18. He took out his key ring and flipped almost subconsciously through them until he found the right one. He put it in the keyhole and turned it. The door easily unlocked and flung open. Bruce went inside letting the door close behind him. The shop was one of those simple corner stores with sodas and candy. Though he kept other items there for good measure. Normally a shop like this would last for very long, up against those stores like 11 of 7 or Krauter's. But this was such a small town that those kinds of companies left it alone. You couldn't even find an All-Mart. He walked across the linoleum floor, lifted a piece of wood that separated the counter from the shop, and went under it. It dropped with a loud thud behind him. Then the desert boy entered the shop. His Converse All Stars lightly hitting the floor with each step. The boy looked pained on his slender handsome face. He went up to the counter with a controlled ease, like that of an athlete.

"A pack of Traditions please." The boy asked, politely. His voice was soft and kind, but layered with worry. His eyes lit up when he spoke. Bruce could tell by the boy's face that he truly needed any kind of comfort, so going against better judgment he reached up above the boy's head and pulled down a pack of Traditions. (I don't advocate smoking.)

"Don't kill your lungs now." Bruce said, kindly. The boy carefully took the pack from Bruce's hand and nodded.

"Thank you." With that the desert boy ran out of the shop. His steps carrying him quickly and lightly along the burning sidewalk. He needed to get back to her. He ran tightly clenching the cigarettes in his hand. He stopped in front of the hospital. The H in hospital was blinking, it's red bulb about to go out. He took a cigarette out of the pack and shoved the pack in his pocket. He lit the cigarette, his hand shaking, with his father's lighter. He put the lighter carefully into his pocket, next to the pack of cigarettes. He placed the cigarette between his lips and inhaled deeply. It calmed him. He exhaled slowly. He dropped the rest of the cigarette and ground it into the sandy pavement with the heel of his Converse All Star. He took a deep breath and walked into the hospital. The stark whiteness of the hospital shocked the boy's eyes. The boy who had looked so at home in the desert town now looked alien in this environment. He walked up to the desk.

"Excuse me? I'm looking for Robyn Tosen." The boy said, nervously. The receptionist who had reading a magazine didn't look up, but shifted his view to look at a clipboard.

"Room 101." The receptionist said in a completely monotone voice.

"Thank you." The boy said quickly. He ran off following the room numbers. He finally arrived at room 101. He tried to dust off before entering, but soon found this to be a next to pointless task. He closed his eyes and opened the door. For a few moments he stood there, door open, eyes closed. He felt the cold metal doorknob in his hand. He slowly opened his eyes, a grin beginning to show itself at the corners of his mouth, expecting to see his lover: Robyn. But there was no one. Her lovely dark olive skin, her dirty blond hair, her hazel eyes. All were absent. He was shocked; he didn't know what to do next. His arm reached out and gently grabbed the nearest nurse. He turned to face her. "Where is the woman who was in this room?" He asked the nurse, sternly. His eyes glinted with a hint of anger, but his voice was full of worry and maybe a tinge of panic.

"I-I don't know." The nurse replied, tripping over her words. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short.

"Mr. Tosen?" A doctor read from her clipboard. The boy let go of the nurse's shoulder and walked over. Though his last name was in fact Thear, he knew that Robyn's father had died long ago. So he assumed that when the doctor said 'Mr. Tosen' she meant Robyn's lover.

"Yes?" The boy said, politely. The doctor was apparently surprised by the boy's age. The boy just smiled charmingly at her. The doctor smiled back then her smile faded suddenly.

"I have terrible news." She said solemnly. The boy's expression evaporated, he now looked worried beyond his years.

"What is it?"

"Robyn is dead."

His world shattered.

His love was gone.

He fell to his knees, slowly as though he wasn't so much falling as sinking. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, washing the dust away. So it appeared his tears were muddy. He said nothing. He heard nothing. He saw nothing. There was only pain. "Mr. Tosen? Mr. Tosen, please get up." The doctor said, dropping to the floor to help up the fallen boy. Then he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. Holding on to her as though for support. His head was down.

"What happened to her?" He asked, his voice reflecting only a fraction of the pain he felt. Muddy tears rolled down his face.

"She died during the birth." He kept thinking he should have been here. Where was he the exact moment she died? What was he doing in that moment?

"The baby?" He whispered, as though all his problems were summed up in that name.

"She survived." He sighed; no one could tell if it was a sigh of sadness or relief. Not even him.

"Can you take me to her?" He asked the tear streaks on his face still wet, but no longer flowing.

"She's in the baby ward. You shou-" The doctor began.

"Not the baby. Robyn." He said the name as though it was going to burst with love. Or remembered love. The doctor nodded solemnly and pointed to a sign that said Death Ward.

"Room 203." She said, still pointing at the sign, head down. He finally lifted his head, released her and slowly rose as though he'd been asleep for a very long time. Some people stared at him. Others ran to help up the doctor. No one stopped him though. He walked to the Death Ward though most people would say he glided there. The walk seemed to last forever, he kept remembering every moment he had ever spent with Robyn. The happiness and joy of the memories hurt him and with every memory he felt her drifting further and further away. He finally saw the cold hard metal numbers on the door. 203. He put his hand on the number and left five dusty fingerprints. He slowly closed his hand around the door knob. It was cold. So cold. Stone cold. He turned it and let the door open by itself, hoping that all of this was a dream and that he would wake up and see Robyn next to him. Then he saw her. So pale. He rushed to her side.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't there for you. I'm so sorry." He said while stroking a hand through her hair. Then he felt something, in her hair there was a blue butterfly hairclip. He gently removed it from her hair and put it in his other pocket. His muddy tears began to flow again. They dropped onto her face, leaving small muddy splashes on her still face. He kissed her lightly on the lips and left feeling much older than when he came in. He walked confidently and with strength across the shining linoleum floor to the Baby Ward. He looked for his daughter through the window. Then there she was. Not crying, but raising one chubby fist in the air, almost defiantly. She was so beautiful. He cried only once more that day. But these were tears of joy. He was so proud and happy for his beautiful baby girl. Robyn's last gift to this world:

Terra.

A/N: I love FanFiction. I realized after reading (Or beginning to read) several Teen Titans epics that these stories felt so real and so different. So I wanted to try it myself and now I'm here. I hope you enjoy my Terra epic: Stone Cold Heart.