Twilight

The night air was crisp and running playful blusters only sporadically to chill the skin into attention. The night sky was nearly clear and bore a deep, oceanic blue that darkened as the night receded further. Raven stood on the top of titan's tower staring out at Jump City standing frozen with its inner-city lights polluting the sky so much as to block out any chance of seeing the stars. Still, the city, in its own way was like a galaxy of lights that replaced the heavens, almost appearing as what Raven found to be a modern twist to Van Gogh's 'Starry Night'. She looked on with tired eyes that reflected sleepless hours spent gazing into her small city.

She usually kept to her room during these times of contemplation and worries that so often blocked up her mind. On rare occasion, however, she would venture out, though just to see the world in its natural state- without the busy humdrum of human life. It was almost like being alone with the planet and no one else. She felt intimate with her thoughts, as if she could finally claim the world as her room now that everyone had gone off into their own.

The thoughts that whispered between her ears were often negative and biting, sometimes morbid. She held her cloak closer to her in a vain attempt to brace the nighttime air. She wore gray pajama bottoms over her traditional leotard, but still the cold gusts of wind would sneak up on her and betray her amidst her most private thoughts. Her will to stay out was waning as she bore the brunt of the last wave of wind that sent falsetto notes running down her arms and legs as she quivered.

The night stood silent, again. Crickets could be heard singing their melancholy songs, chirping only to fade away as a background track for nights in cold rumination. Raven felt a ball of energy dying in her stomach that ached like disappointment, huddling raggedly into a fetal position, admitting its defeat. It would often come, the feeling that shook her world, but never made a sound- the thing she hid and didn't bother despite it's sad protests to be heard. Her eyes fixed again, on the distant Van Gogh forgery that twinkled insidiously, drawing her tired eyes, but never giving pleasure. Acting as an illusion of reality to the dumb and a reminder of it to the wise. She felt her soul go black, feeling herself like crisp, stiffened ash standing weak after an inferno. The wind scattered those charcoaled remnants of depression and she shivered again, forgetting her petty, cerebral pains.

As the brisk brush of winds violently permeated her thin outerwear, only exacerbating and muddling her agitation. She felt the impulse to go back inside reemerge within her. However, before she could act on it she felt a gently hesitant hand fall on her left shoulder. The touch was conscientious and light so as not to startle her. She turned to view her intruder knowing full well his identity before she confirmed it.

"Raven, are you alright? It's late."

"I'm fine, Robin." The words fell tasteless on Raven's dry pallet as she actively avoided his eyes, though he hadn't quite yet stepped to stand beside her. The night stood still, all but the crickets chirping, emphasizing long pauses.

"That's what you usually say." He sighed, suggesting neutrally.

Raven eyes darted to the skyline to look at the ugly city in contempt, unwilling to fully turn to meet her friend's face as she unloaded a short, but defensive retort, "That's what I usually mean."

It was delivered firmly and unwavering, because it wasn't a lie. She often wanted to be left alone, and of all the Titan's Robin understood this most. He understood that solitude was not necessarily negative, and often necessary for those that needed the peace. Knowing this however often made him more attuned to when it reached excess.

He stood beside her now, unhappy with the results he garnered from standing behind her. They overlooked the city in silence, standing comfortable in the quiet that surrounded them. Raven could feel his presence besides her making her heart dimly lighten. It was a rebel faction within her, the feelings she had for him despite her best intentions. Cutting through the void, Raven asked back with genuine interest, "Are you alright?"

Robin's brows furrowed as he witnessed his own army of sentiment betray him. He responded vaguely with a lame, transparent smile, "Sure, I'm fine."

Raven looked over the edge of the tower, viewing the distance from roof to foundation grimly. She mused aloud, drawing her face up again at the city lights, clenching her lips together, emitting a simple, humming grunt at his response, "Hmm..."

He countered with irritation, "What?"

Raven rolled her eyes, losing her patience with the method actor, "You expect me to tell you what's on my mind when you can't even talk about what's on your own?"

Robin stood upright, attempting to hide his indignation," I'm not the one standing on the roof in the middle of the night, staring off into space."

Raven bowed her head forward, and spoke in a hushed voice, "Like you've never done it."

Robin recoiled, "Some do it more often than others."

A waft of air drew by picking up tendrils of Raven's hair and blowing them passed her eyes that sat sunken in their sockets. She ignored it, letting it obscure her vision as it pleased, "What's your point?"

Raven always strove to make those that confronted her go the extra mile to be direct in what they asked of her. She was a master of denial and worked hard to bottle her emotions as to not harm others and consequently herself. Most people liked to hint at a distance, and keep their hands clean rather than bloody them with bold statements and presumptions. Knowing this she tried to derail people by making them uncomfortable, and reluctant to confront her to begin with.

Robin looked as if his mind were running over, trying to wrap itself around the barrels she repeatedly knocked before him and his endeavor to merely communicate his concern.

He looked to her, eyes piercing behind a blank mask and groaning, "Why can't you just be open with me once in a while? We're friends- aren't we?"

Raven suffered an infraction from what she had invited- a direct response. Fractured invisibly, her voice broke with derision, but she managed to laugh haughtily, "This coming from a guy who wears a mask."

The air was dead, and even the crickets seemed to listen in for the next words to play out. Their capes rustled side-by-side, Robin's black lightly kissing Raven's royal blue. The two stood still in the unbroken silence. Finally, Robin spoke up, turning to face Raven sharply with exasperation, "You know what, I don't care- You really want to know how I'm doing? Alright, because if I tell you, then you have to tell me, and I really don't mind saying it if it has to be said."

Raven looked up, her eyes open and intrigued by the statement. She fiddled with her thoughts, pontificating which response to give. She settled, hoping to call a bluff, though she secretly knew none to exist, "Okay, tell me."

Robin stiffened momentarily, but inhaled sufficiently to let out a sigh of purpose, exhaling nerves and all, "Well, hmm…" He paused, and thought to himself, then smiled meekly, "I never really have to put it into words too often..."

He paused. Raven waited patiently, insisting only with her continued silence as he stirred the stewed thoughts up inside his head, "... I guess lately, you could say I'm in a rut? I'm not doing particularly good OR bad, just kind of unsatisfied in general…?"

He was noticeably uneasy as he spoke, hunting for words desperately and feelings to gather together and present as sufficient. Raven helped him along, responding sincerely, "How so?"

"Geeze, I don't know, Raven..."

He looked more nervous than she could ever recall seeing him. No villain, not even Starfire in the early stages of their relationship could do this to him. She saw a weak, red flush come to his cheeks as he dug through himself.

After more silence passed he finally caught a sincere response. He spoke factually, "I think about the past sometimes."

There was nearly another pause, but the sentiment spawned a train of thought that ran up like fire to a kerosene covered rope, "You know, I think about working with Batman, and how we ended on bad terms. Or about my parents and how I can't even really remember their faces anymore...stuff like that."

He appeared deeply saddened just by saying this allowed.

But he continued, noting more to himself than to Raven,"- and you know, for all the accolades we get for what we do, nobody knows how awful it is to have never had enough time to even get to know yourself…. I feel like I've been an adult for most of my young life."

Raven interjected in a gentle, compassionate tone "I think we all feel that way to some degree. If it's any consolation you'll always be a kid to me." She joked dryly, sending a reminder of their small age difference, but it didn't seem to faze him.

Robin kept his somber expression and continued, his tone diving off a bit, "I feel guilty for never being expressive enough with Starfire."

Raven shifted uncomfortably at the mention of her friend's name, as the aged and bitter hand of jealousy overcame her. She crossed her arms stiffly as her eyes fell dead behind a poker face.

Robin's arms were crossed themselves as he hit a minor chord, stating dejectedly, "Sometimes I don't know why she even bothers with me."

Even for her brooding leader the statement had been a bit self-effacing. The severity of his voice drew her away from herself, and she responded with intended conviction, "There's nothing wrong with you, Robin..."

She added with less force, fighting her tendency toward reticence, "You're a great guy."

Robin scoffed uncharacteristically, and shook his head "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm not asking for interpretations."

Raven returned his tone, "Yours are the only ones that matter?"

Robin stated plainly," They're the only ones that count."

The sky was still dark, but it seemed to be waning faintly. The city lights blinked on and off as if saying their last goodbyes before the daylight swallowed them up in its greedy embrace. The dawn crept just below the horizon, and the sound of crickets began to fade in their continued silence as the pair stood facing one another.

Robin broke in, in a sudden realization, "Well, aren't you supposed to be contributing something here, too?"

Raven looked away, "I don't know what to say."

But Robin persisted vigilantly, "You have say something, Raven."

She pleaded frantically, her hair falling into her face dramatically, "Like what?"

Robin spoke up insistent on the issue, feeling incredulous toward her obstinacy, "Like maybe why you've come here to stare into oblivion every night for the past WEEK?"

Raven responded impulsively on her first feeling, retorting in defensiveness, "You're up at night too!"

Robin barked acridly, and shook his head in disbelief, "Jesus, we're talking about YOU! Just say what's on your mind, and stop acting like a child!"

The sentence was said with particular venom, which caused her blue eyes to brim, but she withheld the tears as she kept her head turned in inner shame. Biting her lip and taking in a short, butterfly breath she started, her voice cracking, struggling to emerge, "Why can't you understand how hard this is for me?"

Robin spoke again, unwavering, "It's hard for me too, Raven, but you can't just bottle everything up all the time."

Raven shook her head, "You don't understand. I was taught to suppress my emotions because they're fatal- to me and those around me. It isn't worth it…I can't."

Robin pleaded sympathetically, "Raven, even if you can only open up a little, I want to be hear for you. It makes me sick to see you like this, and I'm not afraid to die...I just hope you're not using this as an excuse to never let other people close enough to help you, because if it is it'll hurt you more in the end."

Raven stared with widened eyes at his insight, and she shrunk from it inside. She turned away from him to gaze, toward the city lights going under as daylight crept nearer and she admit in a quiet voice, "You're probably right, but I'm still afraid."

Robin rest his hand on her shoulder, "Please, Raven. I can't be happy until I know you're okay. Let me help you."

Raven let her words fall away with her mask of cold indifference as the breeze picked up timidly and she began, in a fretful tone, "My mother left me with the monks of Azar most of my life."

She stopped, only to observe that the world around her had not shattered upon this simplest of revelations. Her pause extended, and Robin prodded her with a single nod of his acknowledgement.

She proceeded, cautiously, "She was afraid of me. I could see it in her eyes…So I spent years and years at these bleak monasteries, learning to control the horrific thing that I was. And I worked so hard to be a good student, even a gracious learner, just so they might not fear me- just so they might understand that I needed love like anybody else. But I was always held at arms length… I worked so hard… just so they could banish me on a whim decision, from a prophecy that seemed conjured out of nothing more than their own braiding fear."

Raven added with a hurt in her voice, much sooner than she intended, "And I could come to understand their lack of concern for my well-being. But how could my mother care so little? She said nothing- she just let them throw me into some foreign dimension like it meant nothing to her…"

Raven choked in her throat from the natural desire to sob, but she told herself adamantly she wouldn't let a fresh tear fall.

Robin offered hesitantly, "I thought you said she considered it a necessary sacrifice for your people?"

Raven cut him off woundedly, "It wasn't her sacrifice to make."

"...and Azarath is gone now- it was doomed whether they kept me around or not- it was all for nothing!" She sounded furious for a moment, then her tone unexpectedly tapered off quietly as she added in despondence, "I wish I could have just been destroyed with the rest of Azarath like it was supposed to happen." The tears Raven had been stifling now poured like endless, slow moving raindrops rolling down porcelain cheeks.

Robin didn't need to see her face to know she was crying now. It was in her voice- the seldom-heard voice that wasn't quite so flat and insincere, the one that you only got a hint of when she yelled. It had life, but mostly it had pain, and it broke his heart.

She no longer tried to hide her crying jags, though she felt pitiful and naked before her only real friend.

Robin again placed an empathetic glove on Raven's cold shoulder. She had her face buried in a sea of fingers; mortified and shame-ridden when she looked up, only to see Robin looking on, only patience and concern in his expression. Robin pulled her toward him only to have her fall immediately into his chest as if a magnet had drawn her. Her forearms lay flat against his torso as her hands hung like two hangers on his firm shoulders. He rubbed her back soothingly, trying to avoid the inclination to rest his head on top of hers.

She drew her face into his neck nevertheless, simply needing the physical closeness and shelter that lay in the sturdy crook. He yielded, despite himself, understanding, though feeling himself precariously close to crossing certain lines of intimacy. He looked on in silence at the desolate night, feeling her cold limbs all fight to find their place beside him.

Raven's sobs lessened and her hands went limp and rested lifeless, only her legs holding firm. She kept her head buried in his neck with eyes closed, too afraid and ashamed to cast her gaze upward. Her breaths hit his neck slowly with repetition that warmed his chilled skin. He felt guilt for the pleasure he derived from her shallow breathing and the feeling of her fragile body weighing on his for protection and solace. He somehow knew he was the only person she would ever allow herself to open up to, and he took pride in being her confidant. She leaned against him, holding her hands together and pressing them to his chest. His immediate response was to envelope her as completely as he could, wrapping his arms protectively around her fragile form. They stood silent for what seemed eternal; him holding her, her standing vulnerable and weak, with her breathe at his neck and her head hidden under his chin.

But she pushed herself away, returning to her senses. She muttered, ashamed, looking at the flooring beneath them, "I'm sorry."

Robin was quick to play ignorant as he shrugged half-heartedly, "For what?"

Having just sobbed, her nose was reddened, and her eyes were stained in glass. In that moment, standing wet faced and pitiable, she felt no greater shame could befall her and she confessed herself directly, "Robin… I like you."

"Oh, Raven, I-"

She cut in, anticipating his response, "Don't worry. I'm not out to break you and Starfire apart. I know where I stand. I just thought you should know cause it's something that bothers me. I mean, because I don't want to."

Robin flushed, trying not to smile at the flattering thought of her alleged inability to resist him, "That's cool. I mean, no worries…?" He laughed, looking away shyly.

He pushed down his innate timidity, trying to regain the ability to communicate like a proper adult. He cleared his throat now, adding, "You know, there was a point at which I really liked you, Raven."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Robin's smile was infectious, and she smiled despite wanting with all her might to resist. Birds had begun calling, greeting the day and replacing the forlorn symphony of crickets. It seemed to be nearly 6am and the sun was bobbing chubbily on the horizon. Raven rubbed at her eyes attempting to clear away excess reminders of her brief collapse of will.

She took in a breath and asked plainly, "What made you chose her?"

Robin shrugged again, feeling pressed to respond with tact, "You were never exactly throwing yourself at me." He laughed to himself at the idea of Raven ever subjecting herself to the behavior Starfire had to get his attention. "I had no idea you felt this way- I thought you felt too mature for me, honestly."

"- and Star, she really helps me forget about a lot of the negative things in my life I told you about- my insecure moods and all that crap…", he trailed off.

Raven added, "and I remind you of them, don't I?"

Robin put his hands up to defend his position, "No, no! That's not what I'm saying."

Raven blinked quickly, and proceeded as if a pause had never run through the discussion, "But it's true, isn't it?"

Robin looked pained, "You don't depress me, Raven. You just…make me see the world in a way I don't want to right now. You see things honestly, and some day I'm going to have to face reality...but Starfire is good for me right now. I need her." At his final words he looked downward toward the tops of his shoes.

These last words stung like alcohol on an open wound. She recoiled involuntarily and winced as if offended by odor, not wanting to look in his direction. He saw a lone tear descend like a weight.

Robin came to her impulsively, unable to see her cry on her own again, giving her another bittersweet embrace. He couldn't contain his empathy for her. He did love her, but as to the nature of that love he felt uncertain. She was like a skittish cat, and he had a pained inkling she would only run from him if he ever tried to love her like he could. He felt guilt and sorrow consume him as he held her close. He could tell she ached of loneliness that arose from her repeated and self-imposed bouts of isolation. Her shoulders felt frail, and her skin was like soft flakes of paint that could crack in mere sunlight.

He heard a hushed sniff, and noted her face that held a restrained distance from his neck all the while staring downward and into his uniform. All this pain that she felt and she still had the character to remain loyal to her friend, respectful enough to decline to feed the flames of sexual tension that flickered between them and despite them.

He caressed her shoulders gently again, wanting nothing more than to soothe her battered soul. The touch was enough to cause her to flinch and raise her head. She craned her neck to meet his gaze, wanting to look away, but not finding the strength to do so. It seemed he suffered a similar impairment. He brought his hand to her and gingerly held her face, wiping away the stained tracks of tears on her face with his thumb. Then he kissed her cheek boldly, and yet softly, feeling himself well up with a strange force that caused him to feel as if tied by the heart to her, by some warm, endearing energy that wanted nothing more than to give love. He followed it naive and blind, and forgot himself leaning in and kissing her fully, this time in the proper place, sublimely gentle, savoring the brief, but passionate exchange whilst slowly falling out of step with reality.

Raven felt featherweight, falling victim to the moment and reciprocated timidly, drawing herself subtly closer, but the satisfaction could not divide out the guilt. She moved away, regaining the control she had let slip away too many times that night. She stepped away creating further distance, her cheeks red as a plums. Robin interjected, echoing Raven's own prior verbiage, "I'm sorry."

Raven looked down, much less flattered than Robin at the statement. She responded in her classic indifference, "…It's alright"

The sun was out, and the others were bound to emerge soon enough. The thought was enough to stiffen their skin, and the morning sun was just another ugly reminder of the fact.

"- We won't tell Starfire about this." Raven decided.

Robin appeared troubled, "I just want for you to be happy, Raven. I don't want to cause you any pain. Please, just know that."

Raven listened, but chose to turn the subject finding there was nothing more that needed to be said, "We should get breakfast..."

Robin smiled uneasy, "…we should."

Robin withdrew even further than usual from Starfire , leaving her to feel confused and hurt by behavior she perceived as manic and utterly random. The more she pried the less she received for her work. Simultaneously, Raven spent most of her free time locked in her room for nearly 2 months straight, wrapped up in the double-edged sword that loaded her mind with feelings of both guilt and longing, though she tried desperately to drown it out in her own way.

Robin and Raven avoided each other for nearly three months, entertaining only the briefest of interactions. Over time, however, the guilt became muted, and things returned to a substandard normalcy. Starfire and Robin's relationship smoothed to as smooth a degree as possible after the rooftop incident. Raven began to leave her room from time to time once again, and the balance slowly fell back into place. Longstanding routines had finally reestablished themselves and life was again a series of motions one could run through relatively mindless. It would remain a secret for several years.

I'm really, really tired. I stayed up writing this because I'm an idiot and wanted to ruin my Sunday. So, please, if you read this, it'd be nice if you commented cause I'm so tired right now and I'll be bummed if I stayed up for nothing. On another note, sleeping through the day is going to be magical (crosses fingers for good dreams.)

Listen to the song the story was inspired by, and listen to Elliott Smith in general. He is my hero. An absolutely brilliant man!

EDIT:/I just decided the city is a metaphor for how Raven feels about Robin. Interpret that more fully as you like.