I wonder how it got to this point... Beast Boy thought to himself with a thousand-yard stare. He wasn't looking at Raven as much as he was through her. She was scolding him again. Not yelling. She usually didn't.

It hurt him all the same.

"You weren't very well behaved today, Garfield." Her voice was a low rasp. She always opted to do this in the dead of night. When no one was around to see it happen.

"Um, yeah... I guess not."

"Speak properly," she warned. He could feel the threat of her psychic power tighten on his wrists.

"I'm sorry, Raven. I wasn't."

"You weren't what?" She pressed, taking a perverse pleasure in his discomfort.

"I wasn't well-behaved."

"Good boy..." He could feel the threat of her psychic fingers on his wrists ease up. And just before he could sigh in relief, all at once the hot fire was twisting his skin.

"Rave-"

"Shhh. Don't scream. If you scream, I'll only make it worse." Her voice was eerily gentle.

For a moment, she eased her psychic grip before torquing his skin farther. Threatening to split it through twisting it alone.

The worst of it was always her expression. Almost bored. Almost offering pity. Almost doing everything, but offering nothing at all.

"Nnnnngh..." Beast Boy whimpered quietly. Doing all in his power to resist creating a commotion and waking the entire tower. Both out of fear of what she might do, and even more sadly, he didn't want her to get caught.

"The best medicine is bitter." Raven ran a gentle hand through his hair. Stroking it it as lovingly as a mother to a newborn child. It was a stark sensation against the fire in his wrists.

"Say you'll be good, Garfield."

"... Good..."

"Say it," she spit impatiently into the naked darkness of her room.

"I'll be good, Raven." It was choked out in an anguished whisper. Satisfied with his misery, she released her grip on him. It both amused and pained her to watch him rub the damaged flesh. There was the same odd mix of emotion every time she saw the sadness in his eyes.

"Gar..." She reached for his wrists, to which he flinched. Remembering who he was dealing with, he slackened his arms.

"You know I'm trying to help you..." She offered soothingly. Before he could say a word, her hands began to glow. It was that warm purple light. Her healing power. The feeling of the energy mending his wrists was nigh-orgasmic. Sickeningly, he thought maybe this was part of why he allowed the abuse to continue.

He'd grown to like it. He hated it too. But the pleasure remained regardless. Some sick part of his mind was begging for more "correction" every time she did it. Every time she bruised or cut him, every slap and pinch and pull... It felt deserved. Even worse, he felt compassion behind it.

His love knocks.

"If someone else hurt you, they couldn't heal you like I can, Gar..." She was going into one of her defensive rants again. He wasn't sure anymore if she was trying to convince him or herself of the "good" her "punishments" did.

"And that's just one reason. One reason why it's different. It's not meaningless. And that's the main reason. I'm trying to straighten you out. I'm trying to help you. But you need a certain kind of help. Understand?" The heat of her healing was putting his head in a tizzy. It was almost impossible to focus on anything being said when you could feel wounds regenerating in seconds. Even so, he agreed.

"Yes, Raven..."

"So, what did we learn?" Raven's voice was flat but patronizing.

"I won't talk back to you." Beast Boy whispered sheepishly.

"And?"

"Oh. And... I won't..." He struggled to conjure up the other reason for his punishment.

"You won't ogle women on TV."

"Right. I won't... ogle women on TV." This one he found difficult to agree to, because he hadn't been in the first place. A cursory glance at a few girls in bikinis on TV was all it took to set her off. He was worried what that might mean for the future.

For the moment, this seemed to satisfy her. Raven's lip curled into an relaxed smile.

"You're doing better all the time, Gar..." Her slender hands traced his chest.

"Thank you..."

How did we get here?

"I love you," she said cheerily.

"I love you too." A trace of fear. And an ache in his wrists.