I don't own the Teen Titans.

Its kind of funny how this happened. How I ended up with the girl that was my polar opposite, how I hated her, how I loved her, how I lived my life with her, and how I wish that she wasn't gone.

Now as I watch people in black go by, people that pretend that they knew her, I hold in my hands the last thing that her living skin touched. Oh, how I wish that I could have been there as she took her last breaths. I hate how our lives have ended, how weak I feel in this moment. Not even strong enough to walk to my love's casket, yet just strong enough to fully understand and feel the pain. But no matter how much I hate it in this moment, I can't bring myself to regret a single moment of it. Not a single one.

Because if it had to end like this, then I am glad that she ended up with me. No matter how much it does not make sense on paper, no matter how much we argued. Because for 71 years, she was mine, but those years flew by and now I am alone.

Someone comes behind my wheelchair and wheels me to the open coffin. I don't look back to see who it is, though I have a pretty good idea. For all that I can think about is the cold empty body that lies before me. They said that they could make her look peaceful, like she did when she was alive. Well they knew nothing about her because there was not a peaceful cell in her body.

"Grandpa?" I turn to my left and see a middle age man staring back at me. "Grandpa, it's time for them to bury her. I know it's hard but you have got to let go of her hand."

As I look at him with tears in my eyes, I know that he understands, or at least he thinks that he does. He is trying to give me any last shred of dignity I can get. There was a time that I would have been appalled at the fact that I was in a wheelchair, or the fact that I had almost no more control over my own body, but I couldn't just let go of her. She was my everything, and darn it! I wasn't going to leave quietly just so that I wouldn't cause a scene.

"I can't just leave her! I can't, I won't! This is the last time that I will ever get to feel her touch, no matter how cold it is! This is the last time that I will ever get to see, with these failing eyes, her ivory skin. And I won't just leave her so that I won't cause a scene in front of people that never even knew her! She was mine, she was my everything, and now she is gone! So, no, I won't just let go, I will hold her hand till the coffin closes. I will hold her hand through the ceremony, and I will be the last thing that those deaf ears will ever hear, and I will be the last thing that those blind eyes will see! Because I wasn't there when they could hear and see for the last time, I wasn't there and by doing that I was breaking a promise that I made years ago. So I will fulfill it now, even though it is to late."

The crowd was staring at me now but all I could see was her. I couldn't see my grandson take his seat behind me and prepared to listen to the memorial. I didn't hear the priest as he spoke of the life of the girl that I loved. And as they closed the lid of the casket I whispered the words that she knew, forever, to be true. "I love you, Raven."

That night after all the visitors had left and the nurses had put me to bed, I took the time to look at the last thing that my wife had touched. As of typical of my wife, it was a book. A book that I had seen on countless occasions but never thought to ask her about.

I run my hand over the black letter casing and recognize the silver language along the side. Even though I have been studying Azarathian for years I haven't quite got the handle of it due to my still lacking attention span. So it was a struggle to understand the offending lettering.

'The Story of Us'

When I opened the book I was surprised to find it written in English, as Raven hardly ever wrote or read anything in that language. Even then, it was definitely her hand writing and the small, neat, yet childish lettering stated the date in which it was written, October 13th, 1995.

That was before I met her, she would have been five years old when this was written.

After being married to her for decades, I haven't yet heard the full story of her childhood, in till this day. The day of her funeral.

AN: So this is going to be the retelling of their lives in no ones point of view. So the next chapter the actual reading of the book will begin.