A/N: Shorter chapter I know (whine). It's crammed to death with mindless, plotless dribble about the relationship as a whole, with little constructive interaction between our favorite couple. I'm saving that for next time I promise.
On another note, I was amazed by the sudden wave of feedback. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, and yeah, thanks to everyone who read even if you didn't review (pansies). Well, hope this next chapter manages to meet expectations.
Session #3
It turned out that she really didn't need it.
Because time alone meant time spent brooding and reliving the past's horrific moments over and over again. It meant lying there on the bed, dazed and confused, trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong, and why her gut kept insisting that, no, it wasn't just his fault, but that she had played a part in it too. And really the last thing Raven felt like doing was finding a way to justify her actions.
Attempting to justify what she had said and done was like trying to find an excuse for being herself and, at the moment, she really wasn't quite sure who she was anymore. Was she an outcast because of her demon heritage? Or was it because of choice and choice alone? And now with only the shadows of her room as witness Raven began to doubt herself.
It was a painful process, because her own mind seemed to be picking herself apart piece by piece. She thought of the time when Starfire had discovered her meditating in the dark, covered by bits of ceiling plaster after her emotional rampage. Star had been hesitant, taking care not to prod and leaving after she had gotten her answer out of Raven.
"Are you not feeling well?"
"No, Star I am not feeling well." She might have nodded, but Raven would never know because she had had her fisted hands pushed firmly into her eyes. Either way the understanding that Starfire seemed to possess of Raven and her emotions was a poor imitation of true comprehension. Any fool could nod and say "I understand". It was another thing entirely to display that understanding through proper words and actions.
So what then?
Many before her had played the misunderstood card, throwing it out there as an excuse for anything and everything. Heck, she had done it on occasion. But there was a twist in there. Being understood meant that other people knew exactly what made you tick. They could read your thoughts and emotions with a glance and peel back the protective layers to get to the sensitive truth underneath. Being understood meant exposing yourself, leaving your soft spots open for attack.
And when all was said and done, being understood meant relying on those who did the understanding. She never wanted to rely on anybody. There was too much of a chance that something would go rotten and then that crutch she had learned to lean on suddenly wouldn't be there anymore.
Then there was Garfield.
Always worming his way into her business, asking as many questions as he pleased until he could form some sort of conclusion from her answers. He seemed determine to understand her whether she liked it or not and it seemed like neither threats of hell nor high water could stop him. However, it wasn't his stubborn resolve that so shocked her these days but rather the way he sometimes seemed to understand parts of Raven that she didn't even know existed.
And now his words were still bouncing around the inside of her skull as if determined to be heard even after the breath that made them had dissolved. And the bitter truth was that maybe she had liked the finger on her back, and maybe she did want to let him understand at least a little bit of herself. And really, when was the last time she had done anything for any of her friends?
He was constantly pushing for change, not in a manner that suggested she should become something she was not, but in a way that suggested that she had the potential in her all along. If this was all true, then she had to admire Gar's faith in her…
...but then again he could just be an insensitive bastard Raven supposed.
None of these thoughts were making the memory of his anger any more bearable however. She still could see his eyes pressing into hers, pushing the air right out of her lungs and then there had been the hand, warm and trembling on her cheek. It seemed like Gar could change his emotions almost as easily as he could change shape. And he had been so furious with her this time, frustrated at… what had he said?
When some people try so hard… for so long, and then- then nothing.
Frustrated at the lack of change- at her lack of change. It suddenly felt very overwhelming to Raven. He had been expecting too much, the fool. He should know a leopard can't change its spots.
And really what gave him the right to expect so much from her? Nobody had ever done that before, so why him and why now?
"Why damnit!" Raven shouted. The question died in the flat air and she seemed to suddenly realize the insanity of her musings. Just laying there and thinking about it all wasn't doing her any good. In fact she had more questions buzzing around in her head now, than she had when she had first collapsed on the bed.
She needed a distraction. Or answers. But the latter meant talking to Gar which terrified her at the moment. She could still taste the waves of raw emotion that had rolled off him, all of it much too honest and intimate on her tongue. And after nearly drowning in that unrestrained mix of frustration, anger, sorrow, and even affection, Raven was not inclined to go near its source anytime soon.
Of course, those types of promises, she learned, are easily broken.
---
Gar was being an idiot again. She walked in on him putting the silverware away and found him jumping around the kitchen with three steak knives held between the fingers of both hands. He was humming some action tune and making sound effects as he went darting about. The rest of the room was strangely empty, which was probably the reason why he was being so obnoxious. She walked right by him, startling Gar so much that two of the knives slipped to clatter on the floor. By the time she turned around to look at him, his face was already a blushing mess.
"Heya Raven!" He piped, picking up the knives hastily and shoving them in the drawer. "Just uh, trying out my Wolverine impersonation." He explained. She just frowned, grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter and went to sit down on the sofa. But darn it he was persistent as always, ambling over and munching on his own apple. Raven who had picked up her book, watched out of the corner of her eye as a green arm rest itself casually on the back of the sofa.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
"Morning." He mumbled, mouth full of food. Crunch, crunch.
"Yeah, whatever." She mumbled back, knowing it would only provoke him, but still hoping he might get the point and go back to emptying the dishwasher.
"Aw, aren't you going to say good morning Gar?" He whined. Crunch, crunch.
"Not today." She heard him swallow. Something made her spine prickled nervously.
"We should talk."
"We are talking." She pointed out, and in response felt him bristle with agitation.
"I mean really talk Raven."
"So talk."
"WE. Not just me. And you can't talk to me when you've got your nose buried in a book." A hand reached over her head to snatch it right out of her fingers. Flipping around angrily, Raven came face to face with him. The sudden shock of seeing him up close again, especially after yesterday, was enough to make her jerk backwards in an instinctive manner.
She was fully prepared to yell at him, to punch him, and cause all sorts of hell and havoc in his life just to get her book back, but she wouldn't. She wouldn't snap and demand her book because that was from an earlier time in their lives. It was meant for days when he was lanky and short and all boyish mischief, and when she was creepy and reclusive and easy to anger. Which, nowadays they were both a little of each (except the short part), but with time had come maturity and change. She wasn't about to go chasing after him, and he wasn't about to go running around with the book held over his head like some grand prize.
Instead Raven just sat their looking pointedly into his face, making demands without words and secretly wishing that it was a little more like the old days. Because now when he stole her book his look was rarely one that she recognized from the Beast Boy of their teen-hood, instead it was a look more suited for Garfield Logan. And right now with him peering into her face with such seriousness, Raven silently wished he would just grin and go running off with it.
"About yesterday right?" She finally asked. He seemed pleased to see that she was cooperating now and in response came around to sit down next to her. The sofa cushions shifted downward, creases pooling around his weight. Raven noticed he was in his PJ's again, which managed to irritated her even though it was still relatively early in the morning and perfectly acceptable.
Sighing and setting the remains of his apple on the coffee table, Gar gave her another look that said "Don't make this any harder than it need be." Again, such a different personality than the one she had grown up with! It made something in her mind itch.
"So what about it then?" Raven questioned, crossing her arms.
"First, I want to apologize." He fidgeted slightly and something inside her was cheered to see normal Gar behavior.
"We were both to blame. You should know by now that you don't have to say sorry for every argument we have."
"But it wasn't an argument… I attacked you. It was onesided…" His hands made little movements as he spoke, clasping and unclasping themselves, motioning a little, and even running themselves through his hair. A few strands stuck out at odd angles now.
Raven stayed silent after his last words even though her real gut instinct was to tell him he was lying and not to be ridiculous. But she knew it would be dishonest to say something like that especially when he was trying to be open. In all bare honestly it had been an attack on his part, his eyes boring into her, his emotions slowly suffocating her. She had felt trapped and even frightened. Not frightened of him so much as to what his emotions were doing to her body.
"It's fine, really. It happens. Somebody explodes, and then we move on with our lives. No damage done." She tried to sound reassuring yet distant as if no, he didn't affect her at all, and no, she hadn't lain in bed for hours reliving it over and over again. He leaned forward a little at her words.
"But see that's the thing! Maybe we shouldn't just move on, talk about it, you know? Do some resolving?"
Raven stiffened. Suddenly she didn't like where this was going. She didn't like it at all.
He was talking about resolving issues, which first of all she didn't even know he knew the word resolve, and second, that lead into very dangerous territory. He wanted to pick up rocks and see what was really underneath them, even if it meant encountering something that would sting and bite. And Raven wanted those things to stay were they were, hidden somewhere between them in pockets of invisible space.
She did not want to resolve anything. That meant admitting things to herself and to him, and making vague smoky thoughts something very solid and very real. It meant acknowledging the little things that lurked in their lives.
Like there was something hovering there where his shirt stretched taunt over his abdomen, and something else hiding in the creases on the sofa that marked his solid weight. She could feel those somethings in the friction their skin created when they brushed arms. They had been there yesterday too, floating like a haze in the heat and passion of their argument. She did not want to touch them or think about them, and definitely didn't want to resolve them.
"I'd rather not." And once again Raven pulled herself miles away from the conversation at hand. She could see herself reflected at a far distance in his eyes. Gar seemed to realize what she was doing, and leaned back in response.
"You can't just ignore it. That doesn't make it go away." He told her softly. "It just makes it worse for everybody." She said nothing. It was safer that way, easier to avoid being sucked in by accident and revealing something. But his words had sense to them, even if she didn't want to admit it.
"Well if you're not going to cooperate, that leaves me only one choice." He told her gravely. Raven raised an eyebrow.
Distance, she reminded herself.
But, everything went out the window after that because, damnit, he had just grinned at her like a madman and taken off with her book, waving it around and yelling pure lunacy as he went. She slipped into the old habit much too easily, taking off after him, with threats already pouring from her lips.
But as she chucked the remote at him, a part of her mind was still wondering how he had known that this- this familiarity- was what she had been craving.
---
The familiarity could never last. Trying to hold onto it was like trying to live in the past. She might be able to create that false reality for a while, but time was a cruel master of fate. It was constantly carrying them forward, never lingering in one place for too long, and never looking back.
The moments when he was Beast Boy were now becoming few and far between, and the person known as Garfield Logan seemed to be the more permanent resident of his body. He still joked and acted his idiot self, but in a curiously mature way that suggested he knew things now that he hadn't before. And it was like his body followed his mind, stretching itself out and turning the tiny lanky frame into something long and sinewy and powerful, like it had to adjust in order to accommodate that new knowledge.
And meanwhile time was taking him and working its fingers into his mold, taking the boyish features and making them sharper and stronger. Sometimes at a glance she would catch sight of the boy still hidden in there, but it was a hard image to maintain. There was that knowing in his eyes that made them darker around the edges and a tilt to his grin that suggested more shadowy thoughts.
And she couldn't help but hate it solely for the reason that she couldn't control it. No matter what she did or how she tried to do it, Raven found it impossible to squeeze him back into the mold of Beast Boy. Anytime she managed to pin something down, make it familiar and comfortable and safe, something else would rise up and take her by surprise. And for a moment now and then she would question herself and wonder why she cared at all.
Because everybody grew up and changed didn't they?
He was simply following the path of least resistance, and maybe she thought, maybe that's why it bothered her. Garfield seemed to embrace the changes eagerly, accepting each as it came without question or hesitation.
She hated change. It was always an eternal struggle, a fight to keep it at bay for as long as she could hold out, even when common sense told her it was inevitable. And to see him take on these changes with ease was cause for a small prickle of resentment within Raven. Why should he get the easy way out when she was still so desperately trying to stuff him back into his old character and his old body?
It was hard enough to fight off her own personal changes, but nearly impossible to stop his. Like bailing water out of a sinking boat, Raven found that no matter how much she dumped out more water came rushing to replace it. And now she had that terrible plummeting feeling in her chest that told her it couldn't last and that she would either be drowned in the current she fought against so desperately, or learn to swim with it.
It was all to be determined in due time.
---
Things might've been different, she thought, if they had just established it at the beginning.
"I Garfield Logan, member of the Teen Titans, hereby swear on all things holy and tofu-related, that Raven Roth and I shall never be more than friends."
Yada, yada, yada, sign on the dotted line, and there.
It was a solid thing, a visible, physical proof that nothing could ever happen otherwise. But there was no official document and nothing set in stone that outlined their relationship and Raven grew to resent the grey areas that so often seemed to seep into their everyday interactions.
Their relationship was a living organism, something that grew, changed shaped, and either thrived or withered depending on recent events. And much to her annoyance, Raven found that once again it was a product, not just of her actions, but of his as well. Most of these days she couldn't figure out what it was that went through his head.
She really didn't want to know what gave him the idea that it would be acceptable to tease her by blowing in her ear, or pester her by twirling his finger around a stray lock of hair. Her mind would scream that it was not right for a boy of 19 to go about harassing any of his friends like that, unless of course he had other motives. Which, as painful as it was to admit, he probably did.
Gar was too attached to her, too concerned about her, and too prone to touching her for him to be solidly cemented into the friend category. His fingers were always seeking her, fluttering over to brush a knuckle, an arm, a strand of hair. Tiny moth wings whispering on her skin, as if the smallest contact was just enough to sooth some burning thirst.
Raven would feel her entire body prickle with sensation and then she would proceed by beating him back into the safe zone, using whatever brute force and sharp wit was necessary. Because after all she was Raven, and Raven did not respond to such things with soft sighs or weak limbs, or an aching heart.
Romance and attraction be damned!
Such things are for the weak!
And so on and so forth, and she just kept marching forward repeating her mantra and waving her banner like it was her birthright.
Which maybe it was. Along with her cold heart.
A/N: Worst chapter yet. I'm being all cliché and rambly, not to mention I seem to have forgotten all those 1st grade grammar lessons. Can't type worth a monkey's bellybutton fuzz. Good stuff next chapter. I'm getting tingly just thinking about it. Thanks for reading.
Any suggestions or comments or critiques are welcome.
