Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans.

Robin read from the notebook:

"Let me begin by setting your consciences at ease: it was no one's fault. If it makes you feel better, you might blame Fate, but I'm disinclined to believe in it. You might equally well blame God, or Life, or the Universe in general, but in all those your judgment would be misplaced. This was my decision.

"Certainly, it's easier to blame things on some outside force, something that might compel me against my will to do it – but just because it's easier doesn't make it true. I apologize, but you must live with the fact that it was a choice, that this is what I wanted.

"So there's no need to blame yourselves. Instead, I ask that you seek understanding. This was my decision; I made it of my own accord; the best you can do is try to realize how I came to it."

Robin looked up.

"That's the end of the first entry."

Again, silence – except the faint tapping of a light rain on the windows.

No one moved.

"She . . . wished to die," said Starfire.

"I don't want to believe it," mumbled Cyborg. "But she seems so certain."

"Seemed," corrected Beast Boy. He rested his chin on his hands.

It was a difficult realization for all of them – Raven was past-tense now.

"And now," finished Robin, "she wants us to know why."

He hesitated.

"You know," said Cyborg, "I'm not sure I want to hear it."

"She wants us to know," Robin insisted, surprising himself. "It was her dying wish, and we have to honor it!"

Cyborg threw up his hands in defense.

"Calm down, Robin," he said. "I don't mean any dishonor. Just not all at once, you know? It's a lot to handle."

"Perhaps Cyborg is right, Robin," put in Starfire.

"You don't think you can take it?"

"No," cried Beast Boy, "we can't. At least, I can't. I can't deal with it right now – I need time. Let's put down the book."

"And then what?"

"We should eat something – we all should. Long day."

"Perfect," spat Robin. He stood. "Our friend is dead, and all you can think about is stuffing your fat face."

"Hey!"

"You make me sick. You all do," said Robin. "I'm going to my room. When you guys decide you care, come find me." He flung the black book at Beast Boy. The changeling ducked, and the book glanced harmlessly off the computer console behind him, coming to rest on the carpet. Robin stormed from the room.

Cyborg put a hand on Beast Boy's shoulder:

"He's under a lot of stress, B.B."

Beast Boy smiled wanly.

"I was serious about eating. I'm feeling empty."

"I know. I feel it too."

"Oh," said Starfire, "I hope Robin is alright. On Tamaran, such outbursts on the day of a friend's death would be considered rude."

"It's rude on Earth, too, Star," said Beast Boy.

"I don't think we should read without him," said Cyborg.

"Definitely not," agreed Beast Boy. "But let's give it a day or so."

The three Titans gathered in the kitchen.

"It's funny," said Beast Boy, lifting a small box from its place on the shelf. "I always thought tea was a bunch of leaves in a cup. I thought it was for people who were too good for soda. You know: don't like the taste, but drink it to look cool." He turned on a burner. "It never struck me as remotely satisfying." He picked a pot from its customary place and held it under the tap. "But today, I really want some," he finished, as he placed the pot on the burner.

"I know what you mean," said Cyborg. "Put me down for a cup."

"I will also partake," said Starfire.

"I'm hopelessly sentimental," smiled Beast Boy, studying the box he held. "This was Raven's favorite blend." He set down the box and reached for the shelf where the teacups lay.