I've wanted to do a story between these two for a time. I know CyRae isn't a popular ship in this fandom by far, but I always pictured the together, if only for their similarities. I had limited material to work with, as "How Long Is Forever" takes place in the beginning of Season Two, so Raven's interactions aren't very touchy-feely. I also had to look up Cyborg's origin from the comics, and rework the flashback I had initially wrote from there, as the cartoon implies his initial origin from the comics.
"Rae, hey, Rae, it's me."
Cyborg opened the refrigerator door with a clank, raising his hand to shield his face. Silhouetted through his fingers was half a hoagie, crudely wrapped in cellophane, some cottage cheese he figured was way past the expiration date, a carton, half-open, two eggs remaining, a quarter of an apple pie, the crust significantly sunken in, and what remained of a two-liter bottle of soda, the brown liquid flat. Grimacing at the lack of options, Cyborg settled upon the sandwich, pulling it out.
Silence answered him over his communicator as he brought the food item to the dark counter. He'd forgotten once again to change the light bulb that had blown last week. He tried again as he carefully unwrapped it. "Rae, it's Cyborg." The cellophane peeled out over the counter, the ripping sound magnified by the room's silence.
His fingers slipped, leaving an indent in the bread as a tentative voice answered slowly, "Cyborg?"
He gave a silent sigh, his shoulders heaving with a slight crack. Getting too old for this. "Hey, girl."
"Where are you?" She asked, snapping out of her initial haze, and into concern, "This room, it's…odd. I don't think I know where I am." After a few moments' pause, she inquired, "Where are you?"
He sat down upon one of the stools set at the counter, groaning at the exertion. Definitely too old for this. "Some place I've always been, Titans Tower."
"Strange," Raven muttered, and clanging was heard in the background, "I feel like I've been here before."
Cyborg pushed his hoagie from him, his appetite failing him. "You have been, Rae," he replied gently.
"Guess I can't expect a rescue, then," she deadpanned, and he smiled. Her tone became icy as he asked, "Who was it this time, Slade, Mad Mod?"
"No, it wasn't anybody," Cyborg answered.
Her breath caught for a moment. Cyborg glanced at Starfire's beads, abandoned to collect dust on the floor. Really should clean those up. "You have my location, don't you?" Raven asked, "Think you can come now."
"It's not that simple," he answered carefully. Hell, he wasn't good at this, he knew that. Maybe twenty years ago, if he wasn't the hunk of scrap he was now, he could do better at trying to, at the very least, extend a kind hand toward her. His younger version would have been an annoyance to her, but at least he would have drawn more of who she used to be, out, if only for a little while.
"What?" She asked blankly.
Why he even tried at this point, he couldn't say. "Just leave her alone," Beast Boy had advised him in a slightly nervous tone, followed by the sound of something breaking and splattering in the background. "She doesn't want to talk, let her be. I already tried a bunch of times." Thing was, there was little choice in it. Aside from the green-skinned man and the food delivery guy/girl (they switched so often he couldn't keep track), Raven was the remaining person with whom he could interact.
Occasionally a spotlight from a boat would shine through the windows of the tower, the people on board wanting to see what remained of the metal man who skulked about the hallways of Titans Tower. The first few vandals or squatters, he'd personally thrown out himself, but his patience with them had been short-lived. It was more due to the graffiti that took weeks for him to take off of the walls, regarding rather bigoted comments involving Cyborg's skin color, as well as rather sexually vulgar messages pertaining to Raven, Starfire, and Robin, and the theft of his personal belongings (most importantly his electronics) that his patience was lost.
The Iron Giant was one of the names that stuck, aerosol cans hitting the floor, and running feet dashing off as his massive shadow fell over the wall. It was a full circle from the accident, Victor Stone once again forced away from the world that had once loved him for what he could do. He still kept his mother's picture close, her soft cotton gown billowing in a summer breeze. She'd worn pants the right of her death, he remembered from seeing her legs dangling from over a desk, her limp body suspended by its surface, the black denim fabric effectively torn, and her lab coat splattered bright red.
There were other pictures he wished he could have had, but he had decided against it. Not after his friends had turned their backs on a freak, and his father had transformed him into this Frankenstein. Slamming doors and screaming voices resounded, and Victor was left with the one person he could never save. In retrospect, it was an overreaction to what had been an act of love from his old man, but that was little alleviation from the pain. He saw his mother die, he had failed, and he was forced to live with it, and have it smack him in the face each day when he stared in the mirror.
He'd had to repair Dr. Stone's picture once, the glass having broken from a vandal knocking it to the floor. It had felt like a defeat when he created his defense drones, knowing that he was bowing to the level of petty thieves in order to deal with them. Piecing them together, he remembered his previous conversation with Raven as pertaining to his car. She'd placed a piece of herself into every object she moved, as had he placed a piece of himself into something he created. He didn't wish to think of the implications of his new drones as to his current personality.
Robin would probably not have agreed with Cyborg's attempts to speak with Raven, or ordered him to leave her be. Starfire might have had a differing opinion. At least, the Starfire he remembered would have, right? She would have tried to cheer her, no matter what efforts had been demanded of her. No, wait, that wasn't quite right. She would have backed off eventually, too, he guessed. She had never seen Raven fall like this. Stupid. Cyborg knew it was a rather foolish thing to fight with Beast Boy over a video game, but at the time, no one had imagined losing her.
Robin had, understandably, taken it the hardest. Not for lack of trying to conceal it behind a stern expression and voice, the sheer damage her loss had done to him began to break through. The first week had been rough, Starfire's room standing stark and empty. They'd kept odd hours, each of them, searching through every nook and cranny of Jump City. The interrogations of the criminals the Titans had already captured as pertaining to Starfire's disappearance had been rather jarring in their intensity, mostly on Robin's part. Cyborg had to pull him off of Mumbo Jumbo before he could snap his neck. Posters, news headlines, and photos, triple marked in red, blue, and purple, and all pertaining to her, lined his room's walls. He'd stripped her room bare, hunting for clues.
He'd entertained the notion of Slade having something to do with it, Cyborg knew as much, the obsessions running parallel, and culminating in the single point of Warp. He'd devised the theory on a few occasions of Slade disguising himself as Warp, as a disguise had once been attempted with Thunder and Lightning. The theory was soon dropped, however, due to the differences in bone structure. It was little wonder Robin barely slept in those days.
But crime never abated in Jump City. The lack of Starfire in their group had been noticed easily, and the lack of her super strength and powers had made it more difficult to combat their foes. Battles with the heavyweight Cinderblock grew longer, for example, and the taunts from their enemies as to her disappearance were cruel.
Most notably, Slade had taken notice, dropping a hint once that he had known her location. The Titans, understandably, had pounced on it. What it had led to, however, was a static-filled television screen of a live broadcast by Slade directed to the Titans, stating quite plainly that he did know where Starfire was, and an offering of condolences in the drollest fashion. Robin's hand had shaken, his metal rod grasped tightly within his fist, before placing a massive gaping hole in the set.
He hadn't remained around the tower much longer than that, not that Cyborg blamed him for it at this point, in retrospect. The tower had been silent enough, as was, broken up between arguments and fights as to chores, who was to blame for Starfire's disappearance, and simply any matter of small things, and the collapse was inevitable. Meeting one last time in the room where Starfire had been present at the last argument to hear, the Titans effectively disbanded. Robin slipped away into obscurity, though whether he hunted Slade or Starfire, or both at once, was a mystery.
"So that's it, we're a failed experiment?" Cyborg remarked to his former leader as Robin placed away his assorted items into cardboard boxes.
"No, and I never said that," Robin replied, rising with a terse note in his voice to face him, "Safe to say that I've spent the best years of my life on this team, but it's time to move on." Cyborg lifted his gaze to stare at a photo of Starfire, taken by him as she happily modeled a new gown she had bought at the store, standing prominently on the wall still. Robin hadn't moved on completely from her.
Beast Boy had been excited at the prospect of pursuing his own avenue of heroism, talking in a starry-eyed manner about the girls that would love him, and the fame he would achieve, though it did little to deter his negative feelings on the matter. He still asked Cyborg to play him in one more game, and then a rematch, and then a rematch for the rematch.
"You sure you want to stay here?" Raven asked, joining him before the wide window looking out over the city.
"Where else am I gonna go?" Cyborg asked plainly, "This is the best possible place for me to live in, given how I'm built. 'Sides," he added with a sideways glance at her, "It's the only place I was treated like a human being since the accident."
Oh, sweet irony. Fixit's image, particularly that after he had torn his cloak from him, haunted his memory. He'd defied him, and although he would never allow complete modification of what remained of his organic body into the mechanical, he couldn't help but wonder just what sort of torment the older cyborg had gone through to turn himself off from humanity as he had. Cyborg intended not to follow. But did that mean his reason to talk to Raven was selfish? Perhaps. But she was as imprisoned as he now.
"Remember what I told you, that this was the best place for me?" He asked quietly.
"Yeah," she murmured, "But, you have that car, don't you?"
He grinned. "Yup, my baby's in the garage still." It only collected dust, but he still tinkered with it from time to time, if only to break up the days. The passion grew and waned, but never to the extent of the past.
"I'm glad," she remarked.
"You're glad?" Cyborg repeated, incredulous.
"…Yeah," she answered, as if unsure, "Think I am."
Cyborg rose from the counter to move toward the window, the low blue light of the city glowing over the rug. Pressing his hand against the glass, he stared out. He wanted to settle down, relax. She'd come back, and although it would just be the two of them, it would be, well, a little normal, wouldn't it? No, there wasn't a point in chasing dreams, his wings effectively clipped.
"You and Beast Boy, my mirror…" She murmured, her voice immediately rising and speeding, "My mirror, my mirror, where is it?" Clanging resounded again, followed by several more echoes of metal breaking as it was stripped apart. Raven's voice rose as she exclaimed over and over, "Where is it, where is it?!"
Cyborg's breath hitched, his hand falling from the glass. The timid version of her, cloaked in gray, appeared in his mind. She drew back, shrinking on herself. He gritted his teeth at the prospect of losing her already. "Rae, Rae calm down!"
"Where is it?! WHERE IS IT?!" Her exclamations took a growling edge, "Gone, can't find it, can't find it, gone! YOU!" Cyborg's heart sank at the accusatory note in her voice. "YOU! You took it! I know you did! Not here, can't find it!" He could hear her cloak whipping as she spun about the room, and hoped she didn't smack into a wall or piece of furniture. A slight thud told him that his hopes were for naught.
He felt disgusted with himself, constricted as he was by the lack of ability to move. He'd heard the news over the radio that still managed to work. As to the tally of those she had killed within the insane asylum, no one was to be sure. Iron Giant, he couldn't help but wonder what they'd called her after she'd interred herself. The grotesque gas tanker explosion would have yielded her a title in the vein of Bloody Mary, as had the wood chipper incident. The tanker had given the news crews plenty of generous footage to cast, but the wood chipper bore far more of a dramatic angle. It had been the last proverbial nail in the coffin for the Titans, as well as for her. Allow herself to be taken to the institution, or force herself to fight her away out of the authorities. Raven took the less painful-seeming option, though Cyborg couldn't bear the thought of her in a padded cell, or bound up in a straitjacket.
The mirror had probably been confiscated, but Cyborg wasn't sure as to that detail. If so, plenty of collectors would certainly like to possess the arcane piece, and that would only mean that Raven had gotten quite a few more unwanted visitors to her mind over time. He didn't want to think on it.
He should have stopped her that day, when they were still young, stopped Beast Boy too, if he could help it. Robin had set himself staunchly on his path, but Beast Boy and Raven…Why didn't he try? For all of his physical and mental prowess, he was still incredibly weak. He should have taken the torch from Robin, and held the team together. He could stand on his own when he had left the team, after all. But no, no, he hadn't been ready, not yet. What leadership did he know of, anyway, aside from what he had found as an athlete, and even that had been stripped from him? He was too much of a friend to Beast Boy to be his leader, and Raven…Well, that was a different story altogether. He couldn't pin the blame on either; Beast Boy was still younger than he, and Raven wasn't suited to the task as a result of her persona. While others could vindicate him (and Starfire would, he could hear her saying so in his mind), it was, in his eyes, his fault. Though it didn't absolve Robin completely, he held his share of the blame for why Beast Boy was on display at the zoo, and why Raven was in the asylum.
"You took it! You—you-!" Raven gasped, and a thump indicated that she fallen, most likely to her knees.
"Rae—"
"G-Go away! GO AWAY! NOT COMING BACK, GO AWAY!" She shrieked into the communicator, her anger receding just as soon to a series of agonized whimpers. Cyborg stood in the low light, his fists clenching and unclenching. He knew better than to say anything, but he couldn't help but listen. Two lunatics, locked in the attic, they, of their own design. Once upon a time, she'd touched the side of his face before departing. He'd impulsively drawn her into a hug, one that she'd tensed against at first, but relaxed in his hold.
Robin would have given anything to hear Starfire's voice again, Cyborg knew that, but to hear Raven, diminished as she was, and so mentally exhausted, was utterly demoralizing. At least Robin had that frozen, untainted image of Starfire in her gown to hold, not the crushing reality of what was. But despite it all, Cyborg resolved that he could not refuse to call on her again, his communicator offline now. The empty halls of Titans Tower whispered to him, the ghosts of the past floating wistfully as the drones mechanically clanked by. Pressing his forehead to the cold glass, he closed his eyes. He had to keep the team together, in his own way, with no Robin, and no Starfire. It was as good as he would get, and he knew it, but…It couldn't be the end. Score, goal point, referee blows the whistle. He'd lost, pizza growing moldy, and video games crashing, leaving nothing but snow on the screen.
XXXXXX
Raven yawned, seating herself at the counter. The beads she wore chimed slightly with the movement. She smirked down at them. She didn't wish to tell Starfire, but perhaps it was time for the necklace to be retired; the sound of it was getting a little annoying.
"Hey, look who's still up!" Cyborg called from behind her, walking over to the counter.
Bracing her head in one hand, her elbow resting upon the surface, she replied, "Wouldn't get your hopes up for too long." Empty plates of food littered the couch, coffee table, and sink, and Starfire's party favors otherwise littered the room. It would be quite a clean-up tomorrow, not that she cared much. Turning her head away, Raven rubbed her temples with a sigh.
So, as it turned out, there were other possible threats to her head than merely her father. Raven knew quite well that she was her own nemesis, as the cliché dictated, but not to the sheer extent that Starfire had described. What she could call herself now, knowing that she couldn't stand on her own two legs without going insane due to the lack of social stimulation, she wasn't sure. She supposed a toddler would be the correct term, as toddlers craved attention. She shuddered to think of the possibility of her handling one in the future.
"You okay?" Cyborg asked in concern.
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine, knowing that a possible future includes me going insane," she muttered.
Bracing his arm upon the counter, he replied, "And my future had me anchored to this tower for most of my life because I couldn't figure out how to give myself a proper tune-up until twenty years later." With a bitter note in his voice, he added as an afterthought, "I made myself sick, despite having years to myself to think of a way to prevent it. Can't even call that a disgrace."
Lifting her head, Raven asked, "What do you think made you do that? It's not like you."
He shrugged. "Truth be told, I don't know. I may have written that off a little too easily. Being able to change my power source without killing myself would be difficult in itself. Take you guys away…" Turning his head to the side, revealing his human profile, he speculated for a moment, his eye narrowing as he stared at the cupboards, one half-open to reveal a set of dishware, "I think I just gave up."
She raised an eyebrow. "This coming from you?"
He laughed dryly. "I know, right? Sounds stupid, doesn't it, especially considering that I left the tower before." Turning to face her, he added, "Thing is, even then I knew it wouldn't last." Gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, he explained, "Those people out there, they don't give a damn about me. The moment I fall in battle, they'll quit cheering and start throwing rocks." With a sigh, he composed himself. "Okay, maybe that was too harsh."
Raven deciding against throwing her hat into the ring. "It's not like you'll fall alone, though."
Grasping the string that held his beads, he replied, "Yeah, this is proof of that." He dropped it, and they sat in a contented silence for a few moments, both too tired to supply much to the conversation, but too energized to call it a night, mostly due to the rather unsavory visions Starfire had presented them of the future.
"We're in trouble, you and me," he remarked, breaking the silence.
If only he knew how much, Raven thought gravely to herself. Instead, she replied with a smirk, "When are we not?"
"'Damn kids these days,'" Cyborg grumping satirically, lowering his voice, "'With their music, and their parties, and their cars, always getting into trouble. Back in my day, we'd go uphill in the snow both ways to and from school, and we liked it.'"
Raven laughed at that, and he cracked a smile. "Who'd you hear that from?"
"Grandpa Stone meant well, but even he admitted how cantankerous he got as the years went by," Cyborg explained, frowning, "Truth be told, I'm glad he passed away before Mom did. I don't think I would have needed someone else calling me a monster."
Raven shook her head "You're the furthest thing from a monster that I could think of. It's their fault for not seeing that."
He changed the subject. "You know, you never told me about your mom. Things weren't bad with her too, right?"
She looked away. "It's complicated."
Cyborg verbally backtracked. "Sorry, that probably sounded a little forward."
Raven shrugged. "No, it's okay." At his surprised grunt, she explained, "Might as well start asking each other questions now. We're going be living together for a while."
Her dry wit backfired. "Rae," his hand started toward hers over the counter top, "Don't worry about it."
Her fingers clenched inward, and he backed off. "It's just going take some getting used to." Brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear, she explained, "I know I can't worry about it; that's out of the question already, but," she turned her head sideways to look at him, "It's disturbing to learn that I can't deal with myself."
Cyborg frowned, indicating himself his hand on his chest. "Look at me, then, and remember what I said. Without you guys, I gave up; I didn't just lose, I quit trying." His chest rose and fell as he collected his thoughts, his sight relegated to an unseen corner of the room, "As an athlete, that was the one thing I could never afford to do, and I could never see myself doing, but knowing that I did, and that I still could…" He shook his head. "I'll plug in tonight, but I won't be sleeping."
Raven bent her leg, propping her foot upon her seat, and drawing it into herself. Cyborg turned at the moment. Lowering her chin to her knee, she stared at him over it. Turning her gaze to her hand, she carefully slid it over the counter to rest upon his. A shiver ran up her arm at the coldness of the steel. "My mother, she's nice," she began slowly.
"She looks more like you, I assume?" Cyborg inquired. Raven nodded. "I can tell where you get your good looks from, then," he added with a hint of flirtatiousness. Despite herself, she blushed at the comment, and was glad to be not looking directly at him.
She cleared her throat. "Do you miss your father sometimes?"
He sighed. "Yes and no. I miss what we used to have as a relationship. Dad would always boast to the neighbors about my accomplishments. It got to the point that people working at the bank or the gas station, who I hadn't seen in my life 'til then, knew exactly who I was."
"Town hero?" Raven offered.
"To the point where it got a little embarrassing," Cyborg observed, "But he meant well. That's the Dad I miss, but I can't help but wonder about him, too. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but it seems like my being involved in sports was a sort of status symbol for him," his tone darkening, he added, "And I really, really, hope I'm wrong when I say that."
Raven squeezed his hand before letting go. "Sorry if I'm not the best person to talk to about this."
He waved a hand. "You're lending an ear, that's what matters."
"Guess I'm getting better at this whole person-to-person interaction thing," she commented, "Not a minute too soon, I guess." Her thoughts strayed back to the original topic. "I think Mother would have liked meeting each of you."
"Even me?" Cyborg asked carefully, "'Cause I'm kinda big, like your dad."
Dad wasn't big when he met Mom, not she cared to let that detail slip. "That doesn't matter," she answered firmly, thumping the side of her hand on the table, "when it's the only resemblance you share. You're everything he isn't, and you intend to keep it that way."
"No," he replied, much to her confusion, "You described yourself, Raven, not me. Look," he rose from the counter, "I know that you aren't telling me everything about what happened, or what's still going on, between you and your father, and I'm not going to pry anymore into it. It's your business."
Raven dropped her leg at that, rising as well.
"But," Cyborg continued, placing his hands on her shoulders, "I promise I'll be there when you're ready, and I'll give whatever I can to help you."
She smiled at the gesture, but it fell just suddenly. She backed out of his hold. Cyborg's arms fell back at his sides. Reaching over her head, she took off the necklace. "I'm sorry, but this is too personal right now. If I don't learn how to deal with some things on my own, I never will."
He nodded his head solemnly. "It's all right, I understand. Well, that's a lie. I don't, but I can try."
Her smile returned. "That's all I can ask for right now."