A/N: Apologies for the long wait. This was difficult to manifest.
.
.
.
Chapter Fourteen
.
.
.
Quiet.
No words.
There weren't any left to say.
Beast Boy had heaved himself through quiet sobs before silently passing out on the bed. His injured arm was held closely to his chest, and his face had been pale and layered with sweat.
She couldn't blame him. He had lost over a quart of blood in such a short amount of time, and she had given him no rest to regain his strength.
No rest at all.
.
.
.
It took a while for her to stand, to get to her feet. Everything hurt. Everything was numb. Everything felt wrong. She gripped the table with weak fingers, hoisting herself up. She tugged at her uniform, forced it down over her hips, vying for modesty at a moment when it didn't matter.
Home. Home.
They needed to get home.
She didn't have the strength to carry them such a far distance, didn't have the strength to do much of anything at all. But she would make herself find it deep within, to dredge it up from a soul filled with heavy sand and burning regret. She would force herself to find the strength, as she so often made herself do.
All she needed was to get to his side, close enough that she could wrap them in blackness and carry them to the Tower. But as she made her way slowly to the bed she felt disgusted with herself, unworthy of being so close to him.
What had she done?
What had she just made them do?
She swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat and gripped the rail of the bed. Her knuckles turned white from the effort.
Here again.
Here again.
They could never, never be here again.
"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos," she whispered, closing her eyes and pulling her cloak closer to her body. Shadows swathed them in cold and darkness and carried them away from that haunting room.
.
.
.
Beast Boy had awoken in the Tower's infirmary.
In a bed.
And alone.
Cyborg had found him there by accident an hour later.
He had performed a quick examination on his injured friend, his concern over the newly acquired scar brimming with curiosity; but Beast Boy had been adamant with his silence, offering only a meager response to Cyborg's questions. He didn't want to stay in the infirmary overnight, despite the insistence that he was still very weak and needed to be tended to. But he declined, wanting only to go to his room.
Cyborg had no choice but to let him.
.
.
.
Raven sat on her bed, dressed down in nightclothes with only her candles for light. She prepped the syringe she had taken from the infirmary, laying the needle down on her side table and rolling up her sleeve. She knew Cyborg wouldn't be happy to know that she had taken from his stores without his consent, but she didn't have time to be considerate.
She tied a tourniquet around her arm, pulling it taut and forcing the rubber to bite into her skin. She picked up the syringe and slipped the needle into her arm, pressing down slowly onto the plunge. She shook so violently when the drug entered her system that she had to let go of the needle, lest she rip right through her vein.
Breathe.
Such a simple and idiotic reminder, but she needed it.
Breathe.
She finished her task and tossed the empty syringe into the trash, lying down in her bed and pulling the blankets around her shoulders.
She knew Depravity was still lurking in her mind, stronger than ever, cackling at the wondrous mess she had created. Raven should have been afraid to numb herself into sleep, but her heart was far too heavy, and her resolve was so hollow that nothing, not even a darkness that was fed and thriving, could break from the cold armor she had wrapped around her mind.
How ironic.
Maybe she had found a permanent solution to her problem after all.
.
.
.
For the time that she slept she dreamed of smoke and ash, of green and blue, and of tears that grew into shrieks.
And she dreamt of a shadow, so crude and unfeeling, melting into her skin, phasing into her heart, bleeding into her mind and eroding everything it touched.
.
.
.
The next morning Beast Boy was gone.
Cyborg had gone to his room to check on him and had found it empty. Nothing was missing save for his communicator and a few clothes. He asked Robin and Starfire if they had seen him. Both answered no. Raven didn't come to her door when he tried knocking.
It wasn't until late in the afternoon did Robin receive a message on his comm.
From Beast Boy.
"Had to leave. With the Doom Patrol. Be back in a few days."
.
.
.
It took hours for the sedative to wear off, and even longer before Raven was able to move her body again. For the time she remained bedridden she stared at her ceiling and waited.
Gathering.
Securing.
Solidifying her faculties.
The sun was already setting once again when she was able to move her arms.
So she picked up her meditation mirror and went to work.
.
.
.
She searched for hours in her mindscape, calling out the name of the darkness inside of her, demanding that she make herself known. She screamed for her presence, scoured the most neglected corners of her psyche.
She found nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Not the taunting echo of a laugh.
Not the vague glimpse of a triumphant smile.
None of her emotions came to face her; none of them answered her calls.
She was alone. Even in her own mind, she was alone.
.
.
.
She ended up destroying her bookcase out of frustration.
It had been a gift from Cyborg years before, an antique of the highest quality that she had cherished dearly.* She regretted it moments after the deed was done, the splintered wood littering the floor of her room. Raven had closed her eyes to the mess, pushing herself into a corner to steady her nerves.
So much loss of control in the past few days. Where had all her discipline gone?
"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos."
She tried to think back to a time when her world was easier to handle behind a mask of nothingness and a voice of even monotony. No expressions, no problems.
"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos."
She recalled the days when her words were not sought after by the team. When her silence was a staple in their group, widely accepted and rarely challenged.
"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos."
She remembered how she had been before she met the Titans. Before she had saved the city from countless villains and evil plots.
"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos."
She tried to remember a time before any of them had met Slade and had almost lost Robin to that manipulative obsession. Before Starfire had gone through her transformation, and Cyborg had wanted to leave for Titans East. Before her father had laid claim to her powers, and before she had sacrificed herself to bring about his inevitable coming. And before Beast Boy had surprised them all by gathering together his own band of teen superheroes to save his friends and the fate of the world.
Beast Boy.
Just the smallest thought of him had her candles burned themselves into oblivion. The already damaged wood on her carpet fractured into useless slivers and her trunks and chests rose precariously into the air, turning over and dumping their contents onto the floor. Raven gritted her teeth and made herself reign in her powers.
Beast Boy.
He was the chink in her armor. The broken beam in her foundation. The one thought that could send her careening into opacity.
With a wrinkled brow and fisted hands, she cursed him.
.
.
.
And she missed him.
Greatly.
Terribly.
Even though she had no right.
When Starfire had told her of his departure and meager message, Raven had been wracked with guilt. With each day that he did not return that guilt amplified, and she hated herself for it.
She had driven him away, and had deprived the team of his presence.
There were less laughs. Less unproductive moments of shameless delight. Less levity. Less fun.
She had never realized how empty the Tower could feel without his voice ringing through the halls.
.
.
.
She spent hours pouring over her books.
Over the years she had accumulated quite a collection of ancient tomes and detailed histories; mythical tales and lost practices. Her favored volumes remained in her room, kept in seamless order and tended to dotingly by her own hands, (before she had massacred their casement). The rest of her finds had a home on the fifth floor, in a library Cyborg and Robin had redesigned just for her. The numerous nine-foot tall bookshelves were lined with leather bound hardbacks and well-worn manuscripts that Raven had only ever skimmed or not yet found the time to properly examine.
She had the time now.
For fourteen hours the first day and seventeen hours the second day Raven sorted through the books in her library, sitting at the small mahogany table near the window and rooting through pile after pile of yellowed pages and aged ink. She took rigorous notes, her seemingly intangible findings filling page after page.
Starfire came by twice each day, carrying a tray of food and drink for her belabored friend. She knew better than to ask what Raven was doing, but she cared enough to make sure the girl didn't wither away from lack of nourishment. She sat and stayed to be certain that Raven ate, and it was only when the plates were cleaned and the cup was empty did she lay a reassuring hand on the sorceress's shoulder before leaving her alone once again.
.
.
.
"What is she doing in there?" Cyborg asked after Starfire re-entered the main room on the third day. The Tamaranean set down her tray and shook her head, tugging at her hair thoughtfully.
"I do not know. The magic Raven is familiar with is very hard to understand, and even then the things she is looking into are very confusing."
"You didn't ask her?"
"I know Raven well enough to understand that if she does not wish to talk, then she will not appreciate the asking."
"Ah. True."
"It has made me very worried. I am not pleased by the way she is drawing in."
"How do you mean?" Cyborg asked, taking the tray and empty dishes to the sink. Starfire shrugged.
"Friend Raven has always been quiet, but I fear her silence is not of her natural behavior. She has closed off almost completely. It is…unnerving. And troublesome."
"The cause isn't so mysterious," Cyborg interjected, flipping on the sink. He glanced over his shoulder and noted Star's curious gaze. "I mean, it's pretty obvious why she's been old-fashioned antisocial lately."
"Why?"
"Beast Boy."
Starfire's expression instantly saddened, and she dropped down into one of the stools sullenly.
"Oh, yes. I would have to agree that Beast Boy's absence would be very much felt by her. They have grown so close." Cyborg grinned a little, but his mirth was fleeting as he thought of his absent friend.
"They have," he agreed. "But I'll admit that she's not the only one who's missing him. I forgot how empty the Tower feels when one of us is away. And who would have thought BB had such a big presence to begin with?"
"It has been three days now," Starfire said, chin in hand. "That is very long."
"Almost four."
"He had said he would be gone only a few days. Is few so long here on Earth?"
Cyborg sighed. "No."
"He has not sent the word to me or Robin. Has he not made the contact with you?"
"No."
"I worry about him."
"Me too."
There was a pause.
"And I worry about Raven."
"Yeah." Cyborg placed the clean dishes aside, turning off the water. "Me too."
.
.
.
"Hey," Robin said, knocking on the open door. He didn't cross the threshold, and Raven didn't look up from her table. "Raven."
"What is it?" she asked steadily, carefully turning a yellowed page of the tome she was reading.
"We need to talk."
"Not right now."
"Yes, right now. Your behavior is unsettling and I want to know what's going on."
"Leave it be," she half muttered. "I'm busy."
"No more secrets, Raven. No more solitary confinement, no more withholding information. What is going on?"
"Robin," she said sharply, setting down her pen but refusing to look over at him. "I am asking you to please leave me alone to work. I will not hurt anyone, I will not do anything dangerous. Just let me be."
"I'm sorry," he said, and he didn't sound sorry at all. "But I can't do that. Not anymore. I've turned a blind eye for too long-,"
"Go. Away," she urged, her fingers curling into fists on the table. She drew in one deep breath before letting it out slowly. Another deep breath. Let it out slowly.
Control.
He shook his head, took a hefty step forward, across the threshold. His aura was heavy and disappointed. It made her crackle with anger.
Who was he to judge the circumstances?
"Look, I don't know what is going on with you, but the coldness you've shown me over the past few days has got me more than a little peeved. And none of us are oblivious to Beast Boy's absence, Raven. You both disappeared during our battle with the League. If something happened between the two of you that drove him to leave without-,"
"Stop it!" She jumped to her feet, her chair falling to the floor, her hand thrashing out, fingers extended, palms swirling with contained magic, visible and foreboding. She knew her eyes were glowing bright white and she had to fight the need to send Robin flying into the hallway. On his part the Titan leader had not moved a single muscle. His feet did not widen into a defensive stance, his hands did not go for his explosives or his staff. He just stared at her, and his aura thickened further.
"Touch a nerve?" he asked, and he sounded unhappy.
"Don't blame his departure on me," she said, and although she looked angry and on the verge of combat, her voice held a tremor that she could not conceal. "You're not allowed to place blame."
"I'm not. You're doing a good job of that on your own."
"You need to leave, Robin. Please, just leave."
"I warned you about this. I told you that if you couldn't handle it on your own then I would have to step in."
"This isn't under your jurisdiction. This isn't under anyone's besides mine. This isn't about being a hero, it's about being a person. Why can't you just let me handle it how I want to?"
"Because I can't," he insisted, his raised tone made more powerful by his unwavering stillness. "Because as the leader I'm standing back and watching whatever this is affect my team."
"I thought the Teen Titans was supposed to be more than just a team."
"Then as your friend I can't keep pretending that I don't notice what's going on! What's wrong Raven? What happened between you and Beast Boy?" The radius of her powers increased.
"Leave it alone, Robin."
"What aren't you telling me?"
"I don't have to tell you everything."
"You used to."
"Stop it! Why does everyone keep saying that?"
"Because it's true! Tell me the truth, Raven!"
"Robin-,"
"Tell me the truth! You always tell me the truth. Tell me the truth now."
"Why can't you just let it go-,"
"Tell me!"
"Stop. Just stop."
"Or what?" He strode forward purposefully, his masked gaze boring into her. He walked right up to her hand, his torso inches away from the twisting black that surrounded her fingers. "Are you going to attack me? Is that what it's going to come down to?"
"Why are you pushing me?" she hissed angrily, grimacing as she stared at the vibrant 'R' on his chest.
"You never used to budge. Now you're teetering on the edge. What's happened to you?"
She didn't like how they were. She didn't like how they had gotten there. If someone had told her she would be standing in a room with Robin on the brink of blasting him off his feet in a fit of anger, then she would have called them crazy. Because this was crazy. What she was doing was crazy. What she was feeling was crazy. Before, Depravity would have been whispering in her ear the entire time, poisoning her thoughts with sadistic motives, egging her on to do something she would regret. But now the hostility seemed to burn through her very being, active on its own accord despite the absent whispers of her dark doppelganger.
What was happening to her?
Raven withdrew her powers and lowered her hand, her head bowed low to allow the shadow of her hood to obscure her features. When she spoke it was in her usual stagnate tone.
"When you were after Slade, when you were determined to neutralize his terror, you kept everything about your motives secret from all of us. You infiltrated his lair, sidled up as close to him as you could, and left us all in the dark. You endangered everyone with your mission. You lost yourself back then, Robin. We almost lost you."
"I learned from those mistakes," he replied. "And I've never repeated them. Do you have to make them yourself before you understand?"
"But that had to do with you being a Titan," she countered, shaking her head. "We were hurt as your friends, but as your teammates we were shocked. Slade wasn't just your problem, he was all of ours. He was a villain. He was the responsibility of the Titans." She raised her gaze and finally locked her stare with is. "Not the responsibility of Richard Grayson."
There was the smallest hitch in Robin's breath, and his aura shifted swiftly from heavy to completely solid. The team had learned of his full secret identity a few years before, but they so rarely spoke of it amongst themselves. For her to have mentioned it now made him anxious and on edge; but it also caught his attention in a way only his real name could.
"So what's the connection?" he asked, his words forcing themselves through a tightened jaw. "What I had done was wrong and I'm trying to stop you from making the same mistake. Are you trying to prove my point for me?"
"No. Because what you did and what I'm doing aren't the same at all. "
"How?"
"My problem isn't with being a Titan!" She turned away from him and picked her chair off the floor, pushing it back into the table, her grip on the wood firm. "It's with being myself. What I'm going through is personal in every sense of the word. It has nothing to do with the rest of you, and I'm not saying that as a barb. It just doesn't."
"Really?" Robin emphasized, his eyebrow shooting up in disbelief. "No one else?"
"Yes."
"Hm." She could feel his judgment like a tangible weight on her shoulders. There was so much that he was thinking, so much he wanted to say to her. His disappointment was different from Beast Boy's. Where Gar had been nothing but ice and distance, Robin's burned with dissatisfaction of the deepest sort. It was prominent and substantial, hurting her muscles as if it were shackled to her wrists and dragging her to the floor. He hid so many of his initial emotions, as she did, but disappointment was by far the easiest for him to display.
Probably because it was so hard to truly disenchant him, and yet so absolute when one actually succeeded.
Raven grimaced, angry at him.
It wasn't her fault he held everyone to such impossibly high standards.
"No one else," he repeated, feigning thoughtfulness. "I wonder if Beast Boy shares that sentiment."
She hadn't meant to do it; she would have never actually used her powers against Robin, no matter the circumstances. But before she could even comprehend what was happening he was flaying backwards through the air to hit the opposite wall, the impact giving off a dull but significant thud. He landed on his feet, but his back was hunched over and he sputtered and coughed, the wind knocked out of him. Raven backed away, pressing her shoulders into a bookcase and grasping the edges of her cloak.
Hold. Hold. Hold.
"Robin," she said shakily, shocked at her own actions. "Robin…I didn't mean…"
He rolled his shoulder back and winced audibly, clutching his arm. He forced himself to stand on his own two feet and straightened to his full height. When he looked at her there was a monumental pause that filled the room. Raven clenched her jaw.
What had she done now?
"One week," he finally said, shaking his head and turning towards the door. "Only one."
"What?"
"I'm giving you one week," he said sharply, snapping his head to lock her with his white gaze one last time. "One week to fix this. One week to make my interference unnecessary. One week to prove to me that this isn't a problem you can't fix."
"Why-,"
"I don't have a reason for stepping back," he interrupted, moving to leave the room. "And you've given me every reason to step in. Even then…one week."
Raven grimaced. She could practically hear all the respect Robin held for her fall from his hands and shatter on the floor. And yet he was leaving. And giving her time.
"I'm sorry," she said. The words sounded hollow and useless; three syllables that couldn't possibly remedy her actions. Useless words. Pointless words. Empty. "I promise-,"
"Don't," he cut her off, passing through the door and into the hall. He faltered for a second, turned as if he wanted to say more, but then just bowed his head and left the room.
.
.
.
Robin did not speak to her after their last encounter. He never looked at her in the halls and he was never in the main room when she would go to refill her tea mug. Two more days passed in the Tower, and both weighed down on Raven with their reminders of her mistakes.
Robin's lack of trust.
Garfield's lack of presence.
Raven knew the importance of distancing herself from people for the sake of her powers, but not like this; not in this way. She couldn't stand the disappointment, for it made solitude seem like loneliness.
She tried to remedy the situation by spending more time with Starfire, eating lunch and dinner with her alien companion, relishing Star's ability to create a conversation out of nothing. Raven's tensions eased in her presence, and it made her hours spent devouring her books more bearable.
"Thank you," she said one day as she set her empty dishes on the tray Starfire held. The Tamaranean smiled sweetly and her green eyes glowed with appreciation.
"I am glad you enjoyed it," she said, her shoulders shrugging in an excited manner. "I tried very hard to make it the way I know you prefer."
"Not the food," Raven corrected. "But your company. I don't ever really thank you for that. So thank you."
"You do not need to ever thank me for my friendship, Raven," Star replied, and the genuine note of endearment in her voice was profound. "We will be the girlfriends forever."
"Even if Robin is thoroughly upset with me?" she couldn't help but add. Starfire's smile diminished at that, and she looked away. It was no secret amongst them that Robin was being anything less than cold towards Raven, but Starfire and Cyborg hadn't been foolish enough to delve into the details.
"He may have his reasons," the redhead said, "but you have done nothing to upset me."
"Yet." That one small, seemingly pointless word brought Starfire's eyes back around, her green gaze matching Raven's violet one. There was empathy there, not sympathy or pity. It put Raven at ease. "How do you do it?" she asked lowly. Star's head tilted to the side.
"Do what?"
"Be a girl. Here. In this Tower. As a hero. In this world."
"I am a girl and I am a Titan," Star answered. "You are also a girl and a Titan. I do not think we know how to be anything different than exactly that."
"I feel like I'm doing it wrong."
"You are doing it the only way you know how," Star corrected, and smiled again. Raven sighed and made herself smile back.
.
.
.
"Are you busy?"
Cyborg looked up from his desk and at the door of his room. Raven stood there, a stack of papers in her arms and the hood of her sweater drawn over her head. No uniform. Just civilian clothes.
"Not at all," he said warily, surprised that she was coming to him. "What's up?"
"I need your help," she said, not moving from the door. "And what I need help on will require a lot of time and patience."
"I always have time for you, Rae," he said easily, rolling his eyes like it should have been obvious in the first place. "I have all the time you want."
"Good," she said, and when she walked into his room she did so with labored steps and sagging shoulders. "Because this is going to take a while."
.
.
.
Over a week.
Beast Boy had been gone for over a week.
In that time Raven had been busy, occupying her every waking moment to working and researching and focusing and fighting.
She had a plan. Cyborg was helping. She didn't tell him everything, didn't mention any sort of details about her and Beast Boy's 'relationship'. She only let him know the bare minimum, enough for him to help.
It wasn't the ideal course, but it was her back-up. Her net. Her safety.
She would fix everything.
She would fix herself.
She just wished Gar would come back, because the guilt was killing her.
.
.
.
When the alert sounded and Robin called everyone's communicators to say that it was Dr. Light, Raven did not get up to meet in the garage. She had been in Cyborg's room, working alongside him, and when he had moved to leave she had remained seated. She hadn't even been wearing her uniform. Again.
"You're not coming?"
"No."
He frowned. "Rae, come on-,"
"I'm not going, Cyborg," she said firmly, looking up from her papers and fixing him with a hard stare. "But if the team is in desperate need of back-up, then do not hesitate to call."
"Are you kidding me? Robin's going to be—,"
"He'll understand," she said, but then shook her head. "No, correction. He'll know why I'm not going." She waved for him to leave. "Hurry. Go. It'll be fine." Cyborg hesitated a little longer, staring at her in a grim way. When he did finally turn to leave he made sure she could hear his parting words.
"First BB and now you. I didn't know the Teen Titans were so easy to abandon."
Her fists had been clenched as he left the room.
.
.
.
She waited for their call the entire time, anxiety plaguing her as she stared at her silent communicator. She wanted nothing more than to don her uniform and rush to their aid, but she knew that was out of the question. If she could avoid it, then she would stay away from any acts of heroism until she was sure she had a hold on her powers.
Because she could feel it inside of her.
The instability. And the evil. It would make her dangerous to her friends as well as Dr. Light, and she didn't want to take that risk.
Still.
Her inability to help her team was nothing more than a steady reminder of how useless she could be, and how deeply unsettling it was to not be able to watch over them.
She tried to work. She tried to power through the mountain of tasks she needed to finish, to succeed in her plan. But she just kept staring at her communicator.
Waiting.
Finally, after nearly an hour, it beeped with a message. She snatched it up and flipped it open, her eyes soaking in the digital words. She breathed a sigh of relief.
They were all right. They had detained Dr. Light. They were on their way home.
Raven closed her communicator and set it down, her fingers weak, her resolve weaker. After a moment of calming herself she delved right back into her work, her fervor renewed and her motivation revitalized.
She never wanted to have to go through that sort of waiting again.
.
.
.
Where are you?
Where are you?
Come out.
Face me.
Show yourself.
Here. And now.
Let's end this. Between us. Find out who is stronger. A gladiator's result, no mercy shown. Just between us.
Show yourself.
Face me.
Where are you?
Every night she asked the same questions.
Every night she was given the same answer.
Silence.
.
.
.
It was nine days later when Beast Boy returned to the Tower.
No one had known he was coming
It was late evening, and Raven had gone to her usual shadowy spot on the roof to breathe some fresh air. She had tried not to meditate, but she found herself sitting along the edge, her feet dangling in the air as the bay breeze whipped at her cardigan. She had automatically fallen silent and closed her eyes, but she focused on the sounds of the city to keep her mind in the physical plane.
So she hadn't noticed the remarkably silent engines of a hover jet as it descended over the Tower, nor did she take much notice to the displacement of air as it disrupted the pool water and snapped the cloth canopies.
It wasn't until he landed on the hard cement and the subtle cadence of his voice floated across the darkness did her eyes snap open and her body go rigid.
And deep, deep, deep within her…
…a voice that had evaded her for days…
…began to laugh…
.
.
.
Beast Boy touched down on the hard concrete, securing his stance before he unstrapped his harness. He handed it up to Elastigirl who was dangling in the air next to him. She smiled, spinning slightly on her own tether line as she slipped off a backpack and handed it down to him.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, touching his cheek with concerned affection. Beast Boy smiled at the gesture, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I'll be all right. I promise."
"You haven't contacted your friends. Weren't they worried?"
"They'll understand. Once I explain."
"I know it was hard for you, not being able to let them know where you were. We appreciate the discretion."
"It comes with the job." He shrugged and pushed the hair out of his eyes. The wind from the hover jet was starting to get annoying. Next to him Elastigirl sighed and shifted in her harness.
"Garfield." He stared up at her. She had always been beautiful, from the day he had first met her to now, years later. All that time of being a hero, of doing the right thing against all odds, hadn't seemed to wear down her glow. He wondered what her secret was. "You're a wonderful Titan, you know," she said, and the compliment caught him off guard. His brow furrowed and he scoffed in mock offense.
"Titan? Just a Titan? Not a wonderful member of the Doom Patrol?" He grinned his toothy grin, but she only gave a polite laugh, lowering her eyes and shaking her head.
"There's no point in reassuring you of what you already know. I'm just emphasizing what you're not certain of at the moment. This entire week you've questioned your place here." She leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead. "You can always come home whenever you like, Garfield, but this is where you belong right now. Don't ever doubt that." She chucked him gently under the chin and this time the smile he gave her was full and genuine.
"Thanks Mom."
"We'll talk soon," she promised before tugging on her tether and then retracting back into the jet. Within minutes the aircraft was speeding through the clouds, and Beast Boy watched it leave, the pack slung over his back and his bomber jacket slipping off one shoulder. He continued to stare up at the sky for a while longer, but then his ear twitched, he tilted his head to the right, and he sighed.
"I'm sorry about that. I didn't know if you'd be out here, and the jet can't drop me off anywhere else," he said quietly. Somberly. He turned around a looked right into the shadows beneath the cloth canopies and wicker chairs. It only took the patience of a few seconds, but eventually she emerged out into the moonlight. Grey cardigan and denim jeans. A black shirt and the combat boots Robin had gotten her, custom made. Her hair was tousled, a sure sign that she had been out in the breeze for a good while, and the dark circles around her eyes looked no less foreboding.
And as he stared at her, as he soaked up the sight of her after going days without seeing her, he wondered.
Wondered, in a place beyond the regret and guilt he felt towards her, if she hated him.
Even if he had no right.
He wondered.
.
.
.
"You're…back," she said, hugging her arms close to her body.
She didn't want to be there.
She didn't want to be there.
She didn't want to be there.
She had no right to be there.
She had no right to be near him, to speak to him, to look at him.
And yet.
She didn't want to leave.
"I am," he said, adjusting his jacket on his shoulders and blinking at her. "Seems like forever since I've been-,"
"We didn't know you were coming back," she interrupted. She shouldn't have, but she did. "None of us knew." She really had no idea why she was talking to him. She had wondered countless times over the past few days what they would say to each other when and if he returned. None of it had seemed plausible. And none of what she was saying now had crossed her mind.
"Yeah," he said, and he rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, shaking his head. "I felt bad for not saying anything to anyone, but I didn't have a choice. I was going to explain to the team when I got back."
Raven felt herself grimace. Why did he sound so regrettable? Why did he sound so meek? She hated it. She had always hated how immediately apologetic he could become.
She had no right, but she hated it.
"Why didn't you just send a message?" she asked, and she heard the accusation in her own voice. He dropped his hand and lifted his eyes again, and she wondered why animosity came so easy for her. "You could have sent a message."
Why was she still talking? Why couldn't she just stop?
"I couldn't…actually," he said slowly. She watched him take an unconscious step back. "Why? Were…were the others worried?"
"Of course they were worried," she snapped, cold and quick and sharp. He flinched at the sudden shift of her tone, but she stood her ground. Was he being dim on purposes? His question had sounded ridiculous. "You didn't think that they'd be worried?"
"No, I just meant…I mean, I figured everything would be okay until I got back."
"Well, it wasn't," she replied, looking away. "It was inconsiderate of you."
"I…. I didn't know."
"No, you didn't. You didn't know that Starfire waited up almost every night, just in case you came while we were all asleep. You know she likes to wake up with the sun. You know that." He started to stammer another apology but she cut him off. "And Cyborg's hurt that you didn't try to contact him. I thought he was supposed to be your best friend."
"He is, but that has nothing to do-,"
"And Robin," she went on, her voice rising of her own accord. "Robin can't look at me unless it's with judgment." Her hold on her cardigan intensified. "He just keeps pouring it into the air, making sure I know that he's disappointed in me. Because of you."
"What are you talking about?" Beast Boy asked, his voice soft but his words coming out confused and overwhelmed. It wasn't fair for him to come home and be instantly berated, but she couldn't help it.
"He knows that it was my fault," she said. "He knows that I'm the one that drove you out."
"No, Raven, that's not why I left," Beast Boy said quickly. "I didn't just disappear because-,"
"But you didn't have to leave." She knew he was talking to her, knew that he held a protest on his lips. Why couldn't she just let him speak? "You could have just asked, you know," she said evenly.
"Asked what?"
"Asked me. To be the one to leave." She looked back at him and he looked little less than surprised. "You could have just told me to leave."
"Why would I tell you to leave?"
"Because then you could have stayed." She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, wondering when the night would end and the morning would come and they wouldn't be in this moment any longer. "Then we wouldn't have to be here."
"Raven." She opened her eyes and she turned to look at him and she wondered why it had to be him. Why did it have to be him? Why had she hurt him, of all people? He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve any of it. "Raven, we need to talk about what happened."
And she certainly didn't deserve him.
"No, no we don't. We don't have to talk about any of it."
"I need to talk about it-,"
"I don't," she insisted, linking her hands behind her neck and shaking her head. "I already know how wrong it was. I already know it was my fault. We don't need to talk about it."
"How can you say it's your fault?" he asked, openly shocked by her words. "I'm the one…I'm the one that…."
"Stop, stop. Don't personalize it. Don't…we don't have to talk about it. Just leave it. Leave it how it is." Flitting between anger and nerves, frustration and anxiety. Her heart wanted to leap out of her chest. She wanted it to simply stop beating.
"I'm so sorry Raven…"
"Stop. You don't have to apologize."
"I do. I can't…. I go to sleep at night and I try not to think about it, but it's stuck in my head and I feel like a monster-,"
"You're not the monster," she said pointedly. "I am. The monster is in me. Let it go."
"I can't. We can't just let it go." He dropped his pack on the floor. "I can't just let it go." He sounded like a boy plagued by dark deeds, but he was getting his facts wrong. The deeds hadn't been his to begin with. He had been used like a puppet, but was responding like the tormented. He had it backwards. Horribly backwards.
"Well, you need to. I don't want to relive the guilt."
"Why do you keep insisting that it was just you?" he asked, fingers raking through his hair. "Raven…you were crying. I was hurting you and I didn't stop. Was that really just because of her? I'm really not strong enough to fight her?"
"It's not about strength. It's never just about strength. You're just…you're too good. Good is easy to taint. Good is easy to manipulate. Evil has no boundaries, but good is restrained by them. Being good is hard. Being evil isn't. That's why it's so easy to be corrupt."
"I can't accept whatever twisted explanation you've come up with because it doesn't change the fact that I'm the one that hurt you."
"Stop it-,"
"I'm begging you for forgiveness. What I did was inexcusable, but I'm asking for it anyway."
Forgiveness? From a demon?
"Why?" she spat, looking at him with disgust. "My god, Garfield…why do you want my forgiveness? Why does it matter to you?"
"It matters. You have to know that it matters."
"And it shouldn't! It doesn't make any sense."
"Raven." He wasn't moving towards her in the slightest, but his repentant aura was pressing in on her like a blanket over her senses. It was suffocating in its absolution, and she wondered if she truly had mistaken his naiveté for goodness.
"Why can't you just hate me?" she asked, her feet shifting beneath her. Had she ever fidgeted before? She couldn't remember.
"What?"
"Why can't you just hate me? You shouldn't want my forgiveness. You're supposed to hate me for what I've done."
"Do you want me to?"
No. Never.
"It would make sense," she replied. "So, for that reason alone, yes."
"Are you being serious right now?"
"I'm always serious."
"To a fault."
"Garfield-,"
"You can't honestly be asking me to just hate you, Raven. Hate you?"
"Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Because it's ridiculous!"
"Because it makes sense."
"How in the world does that make any fucking sense?"
"Because I hate me!" Her cry came out strong and forcible, not at all reflecting the fractured state of her resolve. She heard power in her voice, and she wondered why she was always willing to fake strength. "I hate myself to the point where it's completely absurd! I hate what I am, I hate what I do, and I hate that every time I try to change for the better something always goes wrong. What is the matter with me?"
"Don't do this, Rae. Don't victimize yourself. You're above that."
"Shut up, Gar. I already told you that saying things because they sound 'right' doesn't make them true."
"Then listen to your own advice. Why do you insist on shouldering the blame?"
"Because it's my fault. She manipulated us and I let her. She's a part of me, Gar. A part. Not someone else or something else. We're the same person, and it makes it my fault."
"She's not you!" He said it with fervor, throwing his hands around for intensity. Raven gritted her teeth.
"She is, Garfield! You can deny it all you want but it's not going to change. I had trouble accepting my father's Rage before, and it nearly destroyed me. I have to accept the fact that Depravity is a part of me as well-,"
"She may have come from you, Raven, but what she is now, how she thinks and how she acts, those aren't you." He closed the distance between them, his hands swiping at the air for emphasis. "You wouldn't do the things she would."
"I have done those things."
"No-," he started to argue, but she cut him off.
"No! Stop trying to make this into something it's not! You need to acknowledge the fact that she is me. It'll be easier for you to hate me-,"
"Will you stop saying that?" he begged, repulsed by her repetition. "What is wrong with you?"
"What is wrong with you? Why can't you just do what's supposed to be done so we can move on with this?"
"Because it's not the truth! You are not the same as Depravity, this isn't all on your shoulders, and I could never hate you, even if I tried!"
"Then try harder," she barked, the water in the pool sloshing around with her agitation. Beast Boy's eyes glanced momentarily at the pool before fixing on her again.
"What's the point, Raven? How does my resentment help you?"
"After everything that's happened you still have no idea what sort of effect you have on her?" she grumbled. Beast Boy bowed his head.
"I know how she views me," he said darkly. "But she's not the one I'm messed up over."
"Don't," Raven said abruptly, backing up several steps, her hand stretched out as if to stop him. "Don't go there, Gar."
"Go where?" he asked. He shrugged as if he had no idea what she was talking about, but she knew he did. "What are you referring to, Rae?"
"Garfield, this isn't about feelings," she insisted. "This isn't about how we should feel about each other. It's about reactions, and those come from what we've done." Her hand dropped. Her heart felt like following. "Why can't you understand that?"
"I wasn't the one talking about feelings," he replied, looking away. "You're the one who insists on hate."
"Because it would make it easier."
"Easier for you to justify your toxic self-loathing?"
"Yeah, for starters."
"And where does it go from there?"
"Then I could stay away," she spat. "I could stay away from you if I knew you resented me. I could live with the guilt if I knew you wanted nothing to do with me." She swallowed. "I can't live with the guilt if I know you forgive me."
"You didn't do anything wrong, so there's no need to forgive you." He gripped at his hair and blew out a heavy breath. He closed his eyes and fell into a crouching position. He seemed to be crumbling right before her eyes. "Raven. God, Raven, I could never…."
And then it hit her.
Hard.
Like a freight train to her chest.
Like a sonic blast to her gut.
It resonated off of him with so much raw, emotional meaning that it weakened her knees and almost dropped her onto the floor. Beast Boy saw her waver and lifted his head, his gaze immediately filled with concern. But his concern with insignificant in comparison to the other emotion he was battering her with.
Love.
So…much…
…love.
The words filled her head without him even saying it, all his emotions and expressions pouring into her without a filter. He could never hate her because he loved her so much, and it was that same love that filled him with an unforgiving guilt at what he had done to her at the university. He loved her for her icy exterior, for her insistence to be a hero, for her resilience to fight off her darkness. He loved watching her live her life, loved the way she hummed quietly to herself when she drank her tea, or the subtle tilt of her head when she would play chess. He loved every intimate moment they had spent together, and even if she had done them for purely physical reasons, he had done them with every unwavering inch of his heart. He loved the violet of her eyes and the way her uniform hugged her waist; he loved the softness of her hair and how annoyed she got when anyone played their music too loud; he loved seeing her sleep beneath the sheets of his bed and the raspy way she'd cry out in battle, and he loved that she had started to use his real name more often and how she made his stomach turn when he caught her staring.
And he loved her to the point where he regretted every course of action that had dictated their relationship in the past weeks. He mourned the recent moments when she had pulled away, recoiling from him in both touch and connection. He wished with such wide-eyed wonder that they could be like Robin and Starfire, or Bumblebee and Herald, or any one of their friends who experienced relationships without the emotional barriers. He hoped, in only the way Gar could hope, that one day he could stand on the sidewalk, hold her hand, and have her look at him the exact same way he looked at her.
He loved her.
So much.
He had never been one to hide the truth of his feelings, and he was hiding nothing from her now.
The words that had been on the tip of his tongue, the ones that he had wanted to say to her, the ones that she had interrupted spelled themselves out in her mind and branded themselves deeply into her chest.
Raven. I love you.
"No," she said, staggering away from him, from his onslaught of emotion. He rose to his feet and reached out for her, confused and lost, unaware of what she had gleaned from his open soul. "No. No. No. No…."
"What are you-,"
"No! No!" She turned her back on him and closed her eyes, letting her feet pass through the cement below her and allowing her body to follow. She could hear Beast Boy calling her name, but she didn't respond.
She had no right. No right at all.
The moment Raven appeared in her room she snatched up her meditation mirror and began her incantation, refusing to take a breath until her soul-self passed through the glistening surface and entered her mindscape. She rematerialized within her own deserted psyche, standing on an empty rock hovering in the middle of the endless darkness. She gasped at the air and started screaming, yelling, shouting, crying out, every muscle in her body threatening to burst with her effort of screeching three, desperate words.
"WHERE ARE YOU?"
She fell to one knee, breathing heavily, dry sobs tightening her chest. No tears spilled from her eyes, because her emotional distress wasn't hers alone. She was still reeling from Beast Boy's love, still reeling from the horrifying fact that he felt so much for her and all she could offer him was misery and pain.
She had thought she felt guilty before, but nothing compared to what she was feeling now.
"Where are you, you disgusting parasite?" she growled, flexing her fingers, trying to restrain herself from setting a tirade on her mindscape. "Where are you, you miserable, conniving, pathetic echo? Show yourself! Get out here! Come here and let me rip you apart with my bare hands!"
She had never detested herself so much, and that was in comparison to a history of macabre chaos. But whatever her past held, nothing matched the horror of having someone like Gar fall so deeply in love with her.
After everything she had done.
After everything she was still capable of doing.
She had stolen his heart without even knowing, and she knew that all she would do with it was let it burn. Slowly and painfully.
"This is all your fault," she cried, pounding both fists into the dirt. "Now come out here and face me! Face me! FACE ME!"
"Raven."
She jumped to her feet and spun around, her arms braced and her body prepped for battle. She narrowed her eyes, expecting to see the twisted stare of Depravity, but then her gaze locked on to the one who had said her name and a frown furrowed her brow. She looked around frantically before locking onto her newly appeared companion, and her panic only intensified.
"You," she said lowly, shaking her head. "What... What happened to you?"
.
.
.
A/N: *Raven's bookcase from Cyborg – a Christmas present as shown in "Teen Titan's Go" Comic #44