Warning: Very strong language and implied sex.
i don't stand a chance in these four walls,
and he don't recognize me anymore
burned out flames should never re-ignite
but i thought you might
- home, daughter
He finds her on his doorstep at five thirty in the morning, soaking wet and smelling of vodka. The sun is already beginning to peek over the sill of the dirty window at the end of the hall and it catches at strands of her hair.
Her heart's in her throat and the only thing that she can think of is throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him until his lips are bruised. She half-expects him to shut the door without another glance, but he puts his arm around her and brings her inside, silence piercing her ears.
He sits her down on his brown couch, and leaves to find her a blanket. Sapphire eyes meet emerald as he lowers himself down so they're level. They don't really need to say anything. Every few weeks, this would happen. She would have enough of Murakami and run away from Amber and Dionne, schoolwork, responsibilities, track meets and just show up. And he would be there, in his small flat with old DVDs and old coffee mugs, away from the Tower and away from his responsibilities.
She looks at him now, wondering how he can even recognize her.
Because she really can't.
"Hey, hey, don't cry," he says, and of course that just makes Terra cry more because Beast Boy shouldn't be being kind to her, he should be avoiding her and fearing her because she has 'traitor' branded on her forehead or something now. But instead he lifts up the covers and snuggles down next to her and she takes a sharp intake of breath as puts his arms around her and for the first time in months she sleeps without a single dream.
And from that moment on, Terra starts using Beast Boy shamelessly as her own personal dreamcatcher. He probably has a girlfriend to get back to but that hurts too much to think about so whatever but for as long as she can get him to she will sneak into his bed at night and curl up against the curve of his spine and feel the rise and fall of his breath and mimic it and nine minutes out of ten she doesn't think of anything at all.
"Thank you," she whispers to him at three AM one time, when she thinks he is asleep. She has her forehead against the base of his neck, breathing in his solidity and the reassuring familiar scent of him and feeling sleepy.
"You're welcome," he whispers back, and she starts slightly and then smiles and snuggles closer.
She has been awake for some time in his bed, her spine pressed against his, her blonde hair twisted between the pair of them as she watches the sun rise over his window sill.
"You should be here," Beast Boy says, startling her a little since she hadn't been aware he was awake. "Always."
"I want to," she answers automatically, because that is her go-to when he suggests she stays, "I will. I will. As soon as I graduate."
There's a beat of silence.
"I'm scared," she admits. "All of the time."
"Scared of what?"
"I don't really know," she says with an air of revelation, because actually she doesn't exactly – she's so scared but of what, of what, "Could be… I think a lot of things. I'm scared that there are more men like him. I'm scared he's not actually dead and he'll come back. I'm scared of my thoughts-"
He doesn't have the heart to tell her that he's not really gone, and so he kisses her.
They lie side-by-side on his bed an indefinite amount of time later and her ribs are rising and falling with her breaths. She has replaced her underwear and bra and that slutty dress of Amber's and Beast Boy is back in his trousers but they are naked to each other, now, in every sense other than the physical one.
"Are you still scared?" he asks finally, his voice too loud in the small room.
"No," she replies with a slight air of surprise, as though she hadn't been expecting that, "I feel…" she trails off because she don't know what she feels. She is still scared and confused and lonely but knowing that Beast Boy is close enough that she could twitch her little finger and touch his makes her feel calm, somehow.
"I'm sorry I did this to you," she ventures after another long silence. He turns his head to look at her, and she finds him staring down at her with an infinite amount of something in his eyes.
"You didn't. Slade did," he corrects her, and watches her wince at his name.
There's another long silence, but this one isn't as hard as the last one.
"Do you – do you think we'll ever go back to normal again?" he asks her.
She considers that for so long that he is nearly asleep by the time she finally replies.
"No," she says, voice gaining confidence as she accepts her own conclusion, "We're totally fucked up. But don't panic," she reassures him hastily, rolling onto her side to press up against him, putting her lips to the delicate green shell of his ear and tracing her fingers against his arm, "We've got lots of practice at it. We'll survive."
"Survive," he repeats, his head flopping back to stare blankly up at the ceiling, a slight smile curving his lips upwards at one side, making his fang stick out. "I suppose that's something at least."
"Yes," she replies on a gentle exhale, pressing a kiss to the shifting line of his jaw, "That's something at least."
Author's Note: You didn't think I would leave you with no BBTerra, did you?
Anyway, pleasepleaseplease review. It means more than you know.