This story is originally from tnemeIeeht. I loved the premise and the plot but it contained many grammatical errors and the writer did not go through the writing to correct them. So I stepped in.

Disclaimer: I do not own the "Teen Titans," "Batman," or any other DC comic franchise. I give credit to where credit is due.

The sun began to rise over Jump City where the Teen Titans were peacefully sleeping in their own rooms.

All, except one.

In a messy, green room, clothes are scattered, all over the floor. There's leftover tofu and take-out containers, which are starting to mold.

On top of a green bunk bed, a boy, lying on his back, stared blankly at the ceiling. Tears are forming out of his emerald eyes. He had been dreading for this day to come, ever since he was only six years old. He is now fourteen, living in this tower with four superheroes.

His name is Garfield Mark Logan, but he goes by the name "Beast Boy." No one knows him. In fact no one knows anything about him, except that he is the prankster, loves video games, watches television, and refuses to eat meat. Beast Boy is outgoing, happy, carefree. He always wore a grin on his face, wiggling his pointy ears, but all of that, all of it, was just an act, because eight years ago, on this day, everything changed.

Beast Boy, slowly moving to a sitting position on his bed, jumped out and landed on the floor, full of dirty clothes.

'Just not my day.'

Slowly walking to the window, opening it he takes in the view.

The ocean, a glittering gem. The lighthouse, a shining beacon. Jump City, a true metropolitan area. The sun is peeking and the rays flow through the buildings. It was a beautiful day. Beast Boy loves the view; it always made him happy every time he woke up in the morning, but not today. More tears came out of his eyes. They're running through his cheeks. He is now crying silently.

'I hate the ocean. Hate how it always makes its own choices. How it doesn't care who rides through it or how skillfully we travel through it. I hate how they are so powerful, formulating its own paths, how like death itself, it swallows everything.'

His hands clenched at the last thought, 'Swallows everything, even the ones I love.'

Eight years ago. Eight years ago. Has it been that long? Has time really gone so quickly, so rapidly, without thought? Without care?

Garfield Mark Logan. I am not that name. That's not who I am anymore. I'm Beast Boy. A new identity. A new me. Out with the old and in with the new, right? I mean I wouldn't have been green-skinned if I never went with my parents to Africa to study new species of animals. They were world-renowned scientists, more specifically, geneticists. I mean I always loved to see new kinds of animals, learning about how they worked, how they functioned. Like my parents, I was considered to be a bright young boy.

Yeah. I know. Shocking, right? I'm the idiot, aren't I? I'm the comic relief guy who can't read anything beyond the back of a cereal box. Well, my parents, they taught me well. They told me not to squander my knowledge. They told me to be of value so more often than not, I would help out in whatever assignment they had.

In fact, my parents heard about a rare green monkey that was, at the time, roaming around the forest. Excitedly, my mom and dad went to the forest and began to look for this green monkey. I recall trailing behind them. I remember the chatter of birds, the flies buzzing around us. I remember the excitement, the euphoria, the marvels, the yearnings. I only wanted to make my mom and dad proud. That's all I wanted. That's all I wished for.

Something caught my eyes while I was walking behind my parents. I think it was something in the bush. So, being the vibrant kid I was I left my parents and walked toward the green bush. I was disappointed when I didn't find anything, but I continued to walk further. And further. And further out still. Till I was completely out of the trail. It wasn't long until I got lost, in the middle of tall trees around me. I was only six years old, you know? I may have been considered a genius in some way. But I was still a kid. I was terrified. I panicked, looking for my parents. Looking for some sense of safety. A sense of recognition.

Then I saw it. A green monkey, lazily swinging on a branch in one of the trees. Looking back, I saw something wasn't right about it. It looked… diseased. Its hair was matted and yet it kept grooming itself fiercely. It would vacillate between swinging and then stopping to groom. But it wouldn't groom its fur. It bit its finger. Or its elbow. It kept biting itself, and when it opened its mouth, this greenish foam would leak out. Looking back, I shouldn't have done what I've done. But I was scared and I was panicking and this monkey didn't look right. And so like any scared and lonely six year old kid…

I screamed. Which scared this monkey. Which then provoked it. I remember it like it was yesterday. It's happening right now. The green monkey. It jumps. I am frozen. From fear. It advances. My legs go on autopilot. I try to run but I'm way too slow. It leaps at me and I fall. I am screaming and clawing and the monkey gets angrier and angrier. It screeches and it holds onto my elbow, my arm, my forearm. It bites my shoulder. I am paralyzed. I am beyond panicked, beyond scared. I pass out.

Don't ask me for how long I'm out. God only knows. If anything, I awake with my parents by my side, worried. They must've found me and brought me back to our tent. Immediately, I feel sick. Flu-like symptoms. Only I'm turning green. Literally, like forest green. My father knows full well what it is: Sakutia. There is no known cure because everyone that has ever been infected dies in a short period of time. I remember my parents racing back and forth, in their lab, hoping and praying all their hard work will help them find a cure. All that research, all that testing. I was dying. Death's door was wide open. I readied myself.

Finally, they found a cure. They created a serum. They injected me with it. I recovered. I was no longer sick. But I wasn't the same. I will never be the same. My hair, like gold wheat, my skin, like alabaster, my eyes, like sapphires, all of what made me who I was turned green. But that wasn't all. I could morph. I'm a meta human, an altered version of a homo sapien. I could transform in whatever animal I could choose. But my family… they didn't care. They did not care I was different. They didn't care if I had accumulated this ability to shape shift. They loved me all the same. They loved me as if nothing had happened. They loved me. They were just happy to have me alive, happy that, in spite of everything, we were together as a family.

But nothing lasts forever. Everything is finite. I've learned that the hard way. God, I've always had to learn the hard way, huh?

Beast Boy is now kneeling beside the window, trying to stop the tears from coming out. His sadness has descended into anger; he grabs the curtains and closes them. His room darkens. Much like himself.

He flopped on his bed, his bottom bunk, once again.

'I hope that nothing happens today so I can just stay like this. Right here. I just wanna hide like this. All day.'

Unfortunately, for him, his belt flashed red. The alarm blasts. He hears Robin yell out, "Titans Trouble!"