This is one of those fics where you have to read every word to really get it. And If you cant tell just by reading the main character is Raven , and this isa semiA/U , still in the Titansverse . Just something a little out there. ( If Raven sounds insane... Its because she is .. bold words for emphasis.)
Notice I didn't say who the father was, I really , dont want this story thrown into the pairing war. Make your own assumptions. Just know its Raven centered. I really dont want any flames.
Dedicated to- SweetNCrazieSugarMuffin... Just because she is the greatest . There really arent any words.A L W A Y S
October 19th , 2010
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It started in the fall of 06' and continues on till this very day, It started with a dream that turned into a nightmare. A dark dream I had every night. Every night after I finally cracked. After I lost my mind. Now my once eloquent speech has turned into the sad ramblings of a madwoman. Mad. I know what they say about me. They think I'll never leave this glorified prison I call my room. No, not prison in the sense whereI wastied and bound in shackles. They haven't locked meup , not yet.I am imprisoned by choice, or the lack of choice rather. It's hard to be motivated to speak among people, who speak toyou like a friend and once they thinkyour back is turned , express their true feelings. I hear every word they say , I feel every emotion they feel , and I read every thought they own. I am an empath.
--
They wonder If I eat , they wonder If I look the same , they wonder what I am thinking. But of course they fail to notice that as they dine on their large three course meals in the bright atmosphere of the dinning room, I quietly sip on my tea in the solemn , and darkness of the living room. To be perfectly honest , I cant quite describe what I look like as every mirror I own is shattered to pieces as I can no longer look at myself. Every mirror , save the one I dare not even touch anymore. Behavior worthy of pity, I know. I imagine I look the way I look in my dream. It is the same every night.
--
Without fail, every evening Cyborg would ask, ' Should we bring some food up to Raven?' I would look around the table and not a single one of my acclaimed friends glanced up from their plates. Scared, I always assumed. If I learned anything while being partly human, was most lived in constant fear, from something is silly as fear of clowns .. to fear of dying . They feared me. They feared what their words would do to my emotions. Though It touched me they took the time from their oh so busy lives to pity their teammate , I didn't need their pity. Not from Cyborg. Not from Beast Boy , Not from Star , not even from Robin.
--
The part of me that cared about what others thought or felt, died. That part died along with my human half. My human half was not another special cloaked emotion that lived among the others past the portal to nevermore. My human half was a separate soul all its own. I remember the shock on their faces , bewilderment , or was it disgust? 'Poor Raven , she got knocked up' they'd all think. ' who is the father?' who cares ?. It didn't matter. The little soul that let me feel the feelings others felt had faded. Gone ,forever. At first I was angry with the powers or spirits that watched me from above, and I felt as if they had murdered the only truly good thing I had ever created. Then I remembered that nothing good ever lasted. That, and It was pointless to be angry with an Illness. An Illness to deadly to heal.
--
I remembered how I felt the week after. Aside from the achingly empty feeling in my chest and the invisible grip on my heart I found myself staring a lot more often. Observing was one of the things I did , It was a known fact that I wasn't the most social person in the tower , but people seemed to forget that just because I never said anything, one shouldn't assume I was not present. I found myself watching and listening. To little children and their mothers in the mall, the grocery store and on the streets. I would listen with tears in my eyes , to their little exchange of words. I had memories of my own that made me smile of course, memories of me and my child. but it was never the same as watching. I would watch with tears in my eyes as Star planned her bright and beautiful future with Robin.
--
They were discussing baby names and I couldn't help but feel jealous, or was it envious ? It wasn't like me to feel such an emotion, But one couldn't blame me, The little boy I had envisioned in my mind still felt so real and Starfire would have that. I knew I could always try again. My therapist , Robin so selflessly suggested, told me I could. But what neither of them realized was, the mere fact that it had all been unplanned , unintentional and at the moment so completely made of passion, made the little boy even more beautiful. Thats why it angered me so much. They wanted me to replace it. To replace him. But I would never forget.
--
It wasn't healthy, but I visited him everyday. No , not his grave , but in my mind. It's true what they say about a mother and her child, even in death the connection is never broken.
It started out the same. Always.
--
Back when my mother took me and we ran away from Azerath. That was the first time I really came here. It wasn't here in jump , but a place far more beautiful. It had trees and stone bridges and pathways and was absolutely covered with Iris. Near the little house where my mother brought us there was a little swing. She would push me on the swing because my legs were too small to pump by myself and it was my one of my first happy memories.
I was wearing a little blue dress and my mom had let my curly hair lose from its braid and let it billow softly in the spring breeze as she pushed me back and forth. Back and forth. The sound of the distant stream was calming and it was a place that made me completely happy. For that short time I didn't think about evil , my destiny. Not a single morbid thought had even crossed my mind. I remember falling off the swing and she came and took me into her arms. Her long brown hair always smelled like soap and wildflowers and she held me tightly as if she were afraid I would vanish from her hug. It was then the familiar words of my mother crossed my mind .' There isn't anything worse than losing a child' I'm sure those were her exact thoughts at the time.
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Iremembered thinking , what exactly had I done to make my 'daddy' despise me so?. And when I asked her ' do you think daddy loves me ?' she would always answer. ' He would be insane not to.' Those were the answers that I lived for. In the days where I was happy.
My mother sat me on her lap and blew her icy cool breath on my knee. A magic only a mother truly possessed. It calmed me down almost instantly and my sobs turned to a soft whimpering, Her voice was warm and comforting in a way no another voice had ever made me feel. " don't cry my little pixie" she told me. That memory made me smile. She always called me her pixie. Before I hit the age of 10 , I had long blond locks and bright green eyes. The typical Disney princess image. She said I reminded her of Peter Pan's Tinkerbelle. She told me after my dark transformation that I would always look like a princess. Her princess. She told me a lot of things.
--
In the night she would let me sleep in my little fairy costume and tell me a story. For a moment I forgot the only lesson my father had ever taught me. ' happiness is only temporary' and like always the beautiful dreams filled with love and song would dissipate and I would be alone again. But it was never for too long. I'm never alone long. Sure enough , after the darkness would fade, a soft light would appear and the sound of crying filled the room.
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Crying ? A sound unfamiliar to my ear but seemed so natural. My legs moved without my consent as I was just visitor in my body, the host unknown. The little cottage had not changed but my mother was long gone and I was now my current age. The crying grew louder as my feet brought me to the back room. I was always scared at this part. Not scared of what was on the other side. Just afraid , It wouldn't be there . But like always he was always there, and every time I saw him it took my breath away.
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The little boy in the footed pajamas. The little brown haired boy that I saw every night. My little brown haired boy. I've seen his face in every dream I've had in the past four years and every time it still brought tears to my eyes. His dark hair stood on end and his eyes never left mine. The left green and the right blue, a familiar smirk and his little arms stretched out from his race car bed as he had ceased all crying.
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" can we play in the garden, mommy. ?" His voice was small and squeaky , he was excited and I would never let him down. I can still feel the cold breeze on my bare legs as we spun around in the autumn night. He wore his bunny slippers and his little brown jacket over his red fire truck pj's and I wore a small tan jacket over my black nightie. I was colder than I had ever been but I was so unbelievably happy. We were so happy. Happier than we had ever been.
--
We played hide and seek in the moonlight and lay in grass and whispered secrets to another.
He would tell me he loved me , and I would tell him I loved him more. Forever. He fell asleep on my lap and I would watch him intensively as he slept. Running a hand through his wild hair , but careful not to ruin it. The spikes made it cute. Beautiful, A beautiful dream that always ended the same. Laying in the field I would always fall asleep watching the content smile on his little face .Just for a while , I was on the other side of the loving relationship I had with my mother. A love so strong , Even now I still feel it, in the wind. She was only with me for a while but her love was everywhere.
--
' Ryan ' I would mumble.
' Ryan'
Like always , every single day for the last four years , I would wake up in the grass. The breeze still cold on my legs and look down at my son.
Ryan Roth
Beloved son
Forever loved
3-11-04 – 11-08-06
My mother always told me ,There wasn't anything worse than losing a child. Sometimes I wonder. Most mothers would kill for my dreams. But thats why it was a dream and a nightmare, everything was perfect, until I realized , It would all be over soon. I would roll over and the small boy who would alwayshold my hand through entire night would no longer be there. I had lost my son , I lost him over , and over , and over .
--
I lost the little boy whowas afraid of Lightening.
I lost the little boy who couldn't say spaghetti.
I lost the little boy who loved blue just becauseI did.
I lost the little boy who always wanted to be the hero.
over ,and over ,again.
But for now I'll smile at my child and leave the field by the cottage. It was time to go back. Back to where I would sip tea while they ate , and listen as they spoke and learn what they felt. The concern was touching, but I didn't need their pity. Not from Cyborg, Not from Beast Boy. Not from Star, and not even Robin.
The part of me that cared about what others thought and felt , died along with my heart and soul.
That part of me is buried beneath the earth of the fields in which we played.
But that part of me will be remembered. Forever.
Always.
It was a little short , Think of it as a prolouge to another story.. If I consider continuing..
To me It was a little sad , might not be for you . but thats ok. What can I say ? I take from Life.
A review would greatly appreciated. To say Hi .. To say sorry . To say .. It was horrible.. ( I'd rather you not , but I cant really stop you , now can I ? )
PLEASE
review.
-- Violet