It's the first thing she notices.

Because he's always the hardest to read — always.

Garfield isn't like any of the other Titans. Then again, to her, he's never been. At first, he perplexed her, frustrated her, even. This wall, this barrier he was so good at faking, it was impenetrable.

For years, she resented him for it. Did he mistrust her so much? Everyone else wore a hint of their true emotions, easy to see — everyone. But Raven only ever saw what Gar wanted her to see.

And maybe that was why she'd started to look for other tells.

It starts with his hands, the way they shake. Slightly, only at specific times, but most notably, around Steve. Or whenever Mento is brought up.

He fidgets, hides them, self-conscious.

Always wearing gloves, Raven realizes she's never seen him really take them off, and she's never asked him why. But now the curiosity of it burns her, and the words come tumbling out before she can stop herself.

"Why do you do that?"

She has his attention now, fleeting as it is, but somehow always aware of her. His hands stop shaking. He's consciously stilling them, she knows it. The effort it takes is notable in the subtlest strain of his facial muscles.

"Do what? Watch TV?"

She narrows her eyes at him, recognizing his attempt at a diversion and gleaning nothing from his emotions as always. Raven closes her book shut and sighs. "Your gloves. Why don't you ever take them off?" she clarifies, mildly exasperated.

"Oh…" He lowers his head, like he's ashamed, or hiding something. Maybe both.

The wall he's built wavers, just a bit, like a mirage. A finger trembles on his lap. "Because…they aren't pretty to look at."

Raven raises an eyebrow, and something like a red flag goes up in the back of her mind, but she's uncertain. "What do you mean?"

Beast Boy exhales deeply, his fingers twitching anew, probably trying to mask the undeniable shake. "Just…scarred up, claws, there's nothing nice about them." His words almost blur together, he speaks so quickly.

"Let me see, maybe there's something I can do about that." Raven is genuine, she really wants to help him. Being the daughter of Trigon, afflicted with many of his demonic genetics, she knows a thing or two about being self-conscious in regards to appearance.

But Beast Boy flinches when she nears, and it's enough to give her pause. She fixes him with a confused stare, but he avoids her studious gaze. "You…you don't want to see it, trust me. They're…the ugliest part of me, and, heh, there's already so much of that as it is…"

He's trying to be funny, self-deprecating like she's always known him to be, but there's a truth to his words that sting and not even he can hide that.

Raven scoots over towards the end of her couch, closest to him, and she reaches over to take one of his hands in her own. She can feel the subtle trembling against her touch, fine tendons, nerves on fire. Careful not to remove the glove, Raven cups his hand with both of her own hands instead, and holds it over her lap. He's warm, running hotter than any human ought to, and she leeches the heat like a winter wind. He's tense, but he doesn't pull away, and this time, he manages to lift his verdant gaze to hers and keep it there, like magnets.

She's never been good at smiles, but Raven musters up a small, encouraging one for him. "You can talk to me, Gar. Maybe I can help."

Let me in. Take down those walls.

Garfield is apprehensive, he's never done this before, least of all with her. It's new. It's scary, maybe for them both, but she's going out on a limb and she's hoping he meets her halfway.

Trust me. Please.

And he wants to. It's plain to see that he's kept it bottled in for so long, stored away the pain with the memories, never sharing, never letting it out. The wall he's so sure of wavers, it bleeds. There are cracks, she can feel them now, but what they hold back is enough to bulldoze right over her.

Gar pulls his hand away, gently, and Raven finds herself missing its unnatural warmth more than she ought to. Carefully, gingerly, he slips the glove off one finger at a time.

Raven can't help the sharp gasp that escapes her mouth, eyes widening at the horror of Garfield's fingers and hand.

Scar tissue — in angry white swirls with jagged, sharp edges — so stark in contrast against the green of his skin, mark all of the back of his hand and fingers. Much of it has never healed properly, the bones of his clawed fingers mangled from the many times he's broken them, likely in very quick succession. Even his nails grow out in awkward angles now, and his knuckles are a disaster of mashed up scars, a notably paler green than the rest of him.

Raven is shocked, not disgusted, that he's managed to keep this hidden for so long. Just looking at his hand makes her wince and recoil in empathetic pain. No one has ever said that being a Titan would be easy, but she knows that Garfield hadn't sustained that damage whilst on the team, otherwise she'd have helped heal them properly, which led her to conclude…

"The Doom Patrol…?" she breathes in question, more to herself than to him, but he hears her anyways.

He nods once — so curt she could have missed it if she hadn't been looking — then stares into his lap with heavy lids and a faraway glaze over his eyes. "Training with them, it wasn't…quite how Robin does it with us. Mento — Steve, he…he needed to be sure I was ready, that I could handle things if I wanted to go on missions with them…"

"Steve did this?!"

The Doom Patrol has formidable enemies, that's no secret, and Raven's best guess originally was that Beast Boy had been potentially kidnapped or taken hostage at some point, to which he might have endured such torture. But…at the hands of his own step-father? A cold feeling of dread trickles down between her shoulder blades as she begins to comprehend exactly what her teammate is not saying.

Beast Boy's hands are shaking again, undeniably this time. He uses the gloved hand to mask the naked one, and he won't meet Raven's eyes. "He…he had to be certain, Rae. L-lives were at stake…he had to be sure…"

Anger — fierce and hot — burns from within the empath, enraged more than she ever thought possible upon learning that he'd been hurt so carelessly, by someone he trusted, loved, respected. By someone he is still too scared to call an abuser. She takes both of his hands in hers, and, in a firm but gentle tone, presses on, "What did Steve do to you?"

It takes him a moment, maybe longer, Raven doesn't care. She'll give him all the time he needs, and she makes sure to keep his hands in hers, doing her best not to look down at the carnal damage that had been done to them for fear that she might actually lose control of her temper.

Garfield inhales deeply, as if to steady his nerves. His voice quivers regardless. "It was a long time ago…back when…when I still couldn't control my shifting as well. Not as quickly as I do now. Not quick enough for Mento, anyways. He told me that even one second was crucial, that people could and would die if I wasn't able to transform on the spot. He…he wasn't wrong. I failed a lot when I was younger, and every time I did, innocent people did die. People I could have saved, if I'd just been faster. People like…" He chokes on his next words. "My parents…"

Raven knows better than to say anything. Every Titan is well aware that Beast Boy was orphaned at a very young age, although only Robin knows the intimate details. Instead of sating her own curiosity, Raven waits for him to continue, patient as ever.

Beast Boy gulps, and his fingers involuntarily twitch in Raven's grip. "Steve came up with an idea, to help me…Rita, she didn't agree and they got into an argument about his method, but I wanted to get better! I wanted to make her proud, to help people, like a true member of the Doom Patrol. Like a hero. So, I sided with Steve on the matter, and told her it was my decision. Rita was heartbroken, but she didn't stand in my way.

"With that settled, Mento began creating a series of rooms, all different from one another, all with their own unique dangers that would require different animal shapes to escape from. Each room had an open ceiling, but the walls were as deep as a well. If I ever wanted out officially, I just had to fly. Only…only avian forms were the hardest for me back then…"

Beast Boy pauses, grits his teeth and clenches his jaw as he relives the nightmare of the memory. "I was just a stupid kid, I had no idea how to get out, and eventually, I panicked when I got stuck. I screamed, I kicked…I beat the walls until my fists were bloody. Over and over and over again, until my healing ability just…couldn't keep up with the damage. My bones grew back wonky, the skin became mostly scar tissue, and I was sure I might have bled them dry…But I had to get out, I would pound my way through the brick if I had to, as any animal.

"…I was stuck for days…maybe weeks, before he finally came to get me. And when he did, when he showed up just beyond the door he'd unlocked…he was so disappointed in me, he didn't even say a word. Just walked away and left the door ajar. I'd failed his trial, you see. Which meant that I was still nothing more than a whimpering baby who wanted his mommy at the end of the day. Not a hero. And definitely not a member of the Doom Patrol."

Beast Boy's broken fingers manage to clutch at Raven's hand, and he stares at them wistfully. "They could have fixed them, I think. But that required surgery and even more pain, and the last thing Rita wanted was to hurt me again after such a traumatic experience. I cried in her arms until I tired myself out and eventually…fell asleep. My hands were bandaged for weeks, but they were so raw, I felt nothing. Or maybe that was the drugs they gave me…I don't really remember much of what happened after. I just remember Rita singing and rocking me back and forth in her arms, while all I thought about was how I'd failed her, too…"

He goes quiet now, afraid to look at Raven and see her reaction. Afraid that maybe, she'd be judging him, too, like Steve had. It had come pouring out of him, the awful memory and all of his insecurities, too, like a scab being picked at.

How could anyone do such a thing to a child? The wall is down, and Raven almost regrets it the instant his emotions hit her, like a tidal wave, or a tsunami.

She's been a fool all these years; the wall was never meant to keep her out. It was meant to keep it in. The barrier Garfield kept in place existed as much to protect her as it did himself. Mento could read his mind, after all.

But he's vulnerable with her, he's chosen to trust her, and the emotions that assault her senses are enough to break her heart.

Loneliness, insufferable in his isolation.

A longing to fit in, to be loved and to give love. To find a family again and become whole.

Failure, deep and shameful. Losing his parents, the perpetual fear of losing Rita, too, all because he wasn't good enough.

Garfield's emotions are overwhelming, and tears sting the backs of Raven's eyes.

Eventually, she manages to block them out. To filter their intensity so that they aren't overrunning her, but she is overcome with a desire to reach out and hold him, an instinct of human compassion she's certain she's learned from her mother and not her father. Raven longs to gently press her lips against each ugly scar along his palms and fingers, as if her mouth alone could somehow restore them to what they once were.

Instead, she says, "It's not too late, Gar. We can still heal them…if you let me. If you still want to."

And neither of them knows if it's the physical wounds she's talking about anymore, even as Beast Boy hesitantly nods his assent.

~FIN