I fixed some errors in chapter one...namely, the fact that I wrote that Beast Boy's eyes were purple, when I realized yesterday that they're actually green. D'oh!

Anyway, here's chapter two! Glad you guys like it!

Chapter Two

It was 10:20 AM two days later when we came to an agreement.

Ten in the morning. Cyborg and I were furiously playing a racing game on the Gamestation, Starfire was cheerily attempting to cook us all breakfast, and Raven was meditating off in her corner, her quiet murmurs of; "…Azarath, metrion, zinthos…" as soothing and regular to us all as the sounds of the air conditioning blowing through the ventilating system. Everything was normal.

Except for one thing.

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna get you now, man!" Cyborg growled triumphantly, tilting his whole body to the side as he made a sharp turn around a curve in the track onscreen. "There's no way you can hold this lead for much longer!"

My ears perked, suddenly, and I felt my nostrils tingle, affected by the word "lead". Leader, I thought. Robin. "…Where's Robin?" I asked, distracted for a nanosecond. And in that moment, Cyborg took the lead, cackling victoriously beside me. I shook my head and returned, irritated, to the video game.

"Don't try to change the subject," he ordered, ramming his car into mine. "Not when I'm about to win, anyway."

"Robin is in the training room, practicing his martial arts, Beast Boy," Star said happily, the smell of smoke wafting out across my irritated nostrils from the kitchen. Cy crossed the finish line and threw his fist up, crying; "BOO-YAH! AWW YEAH! WHO'S THE MAN?" as the word "WINNER" flashed across his half of the screen, and I dropped my controller on the carpeted floor, ignoring him and his victory dance as I got up and headed out of the room. Cyborg noticed me leaving.

"Hey, man, where are you going?" he asked, confused. Usually, by now, I had demanded a rematch, and we had reset the console, preparing for battle yet again. But for some reason…I wasn't in the mood, today. I strolled down the hallway toward the gym, my fingers locked behind my head, stretching my muscles. I wondered if Robin thought I was a slacker, because I rarely ever did any hardcore physical training. I wondered if maybe that was why I was "in the way". I frowned just thinking about it, finally coming upon the doors that led to the gym. He wouldn't want to be disturbed if he was really into it, I knew; if he was training before breakfast, that meant he had been up since around six doing just that. So I would simply make my presence known and quietly lift weights off in a corner, while secretly watching him, as I sometimes did on days like this.

The doors slid open upon my approach and closed just as easily, and as I had suspected, he had the mats and punching bags set up, with his karate robe and belt on. He punched and kicked and chopped so swiftly, it made my head spin just looking at it. He moved with the grace of a cat and the dexterity of a bird. Leap, curl, kick. Leap, twist, punch. Jab, jab, uppercut. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, I thought, losing my confidence and leaning against the wall shyly. Who was I to approach such a skilled individual? I wasn't worthy of his presence in this place, and I knew it as well as anyone else on the team. I hung my head shamefully and walked over to my corner, sitting on the bench and beginning to work without letting him know that I was there. It wasn't like he would even remember in five minutes, anyway.

I think it was about fifteen minutes later that the room went suddenly quiet, and he scared me half to death by calling to me. "Hey, Beast Boy!" he said, sounding happy enough. I nearly dropped the twenty-pound dumbbell on my foot, jerking around and noticing that he had paused for a moment. He jogged over to me, only a little out of breath, and he pushed hair out of his face. He smiled warmly at me, so I returned the gesture. "What are you doing in here?" he asked.

"Eh, you know," I replied nonchalantly. "Just…pumping some iron."

"Hmm," he remarked, looking down at the weight in my hand. I lifted it a few times while he was watching, foolishly attempting to impress him, even though I knew he could lift the sixty-pound weight just as easily as I could lift this one. But I did like the way it made my muscles flex visibly under my uniform. He smirked at me. "Hey…you want to spar with me?"

"Whuh?" I asked, startled yet again, and this time, I did drop the dumbbell…only, thankfully, it didn't land on my foot. I stared at it for a second, baffled, and then I looked back up at his face. He was serious. He had never asked me to spar with him before. Raven? Sure. Starfire? Of course. Cyborg? Always. But never little old Beast Boy. My mouth opened and closed several times, no words coming out, until he finally started to laugh and told me to wait a second. He ran to his locker and came back with a spare karate uniform, handing it to me without hesitation. "Well don't look so surprised," he said, attempting to sound hurt, though I knew he was still laughing at me. "Come on…I'll go easy on you, I promise." He jumped back onto the mat and walked to the middle, shaking his head as he started to stretch.

I turned around huffily and hid behind the weight rack as I changed, muttering curses to him under my breath and hoping that he pulled a hamstring while he was stretching. I felt slightly uncomfortable in the loose martial arts robe, and I wandered sheepishly back out into his sight, hiding my discomfort with a smug expression as I walked across the mats on springy feet. He stopped me once I was close enough.

"All right, Beast Boy…I know you don't know any martial arts, but that's okay. We can just fistfight, if you'd prefer," he said, watching me stretch. I snorted.

"Nah, dude, it's cool, you just do your thing and I'll do mine," I responded, shaking my head. He gave me a stupefied look, then shrugged, scratching his arm. I got to my feet, and we bowed to each other, me with a stupid grin on my face. We assumed fighting stances.

"You ready?" he asked. I nodded.

"Bring it on," I growled.

We ran at each other, and before I knew what was happening, he had leapt in the air and nailed me with a flying jump kick squarely in my chest. I went flying back through the air and did several backward somersaults on the mats before I finally settled on my butt, dazed and in shock. I fell over onto my back and coughed weakly.

"…Dude," I wheezed, "that's harsh…"

"…Beast Boy?" he asked, concern audible in his voice. "Are you okay?"

I organized my senses before rising back up again, supporting myself on my wobbly arms. "Man, Robin!" I yelled, coughing again. "I thought you said you'd go easy on me! That's not easy!"

He started to laugh at me again, and it echoed off of the walls of the gym. I pouted, getting shakily to my feet. "…Can you give me a free shot or something? This isn't fun…"

"Training isn't supposed to be fun," he reminded me. "It's supposed to be about pushing your skills to the limit; seeing how far you can go, and working hard to go even farther."

"Yeah yeah, yadda yadda," I muttered, looking up at him affectedly. I sniffed. "I get it. So can I have a freebie or what?"

He snorted, reassuming fighting stance. "Sure. Give me your best shot."

I ran at him again, assailing him with my best punches, kicks, and chops, though none of them made contact with his face or body. After about a minute and a half of my frantic, feeble barrage, he grabbed my leg. I cried out in protest, hopped twice, and fell to the ground again. He crouched down beside me and pushed my hair out of my face, smiling in an almost brotherly way. I watched his palm as his fingers tucked green behind my ear, my face flushing softly. I breathed hard, trying to make him think that I was tired out from fighting. He bought it.

"…Let's make a deal, Beast Boy," he said good-naturedly, so I nodded. "We'll spar every other day. And when you can hit me—I mean, really, really hit me—then I'll leave you alone about 'staying out of the way'. All right?"

He got to his feet and helped me to mine, and the feeling of his fingers wrapped around my palm was incredible. I felt a spark of power jump into my body through our bond, and it almost made me jump. I nodded instead. "…All right, Robin. Sounds good to me."

"Great. That's enough for today, though…I think I hear the smoke alarm going off," he said, suddenly sounding worried as he headed quickly back toward his locker to change. I watched him go, disappointed, sighing inaudibly.

"Yeah, that'll be Starfire," I muttered, shaking my head and shuffling toward the weight rack, wincing as the bruise formed on my chest. And all the while that we were changing, I was secretly watching him from between the dumbbells.

Star had made what she told us was oatmeal, but what I was pretty sure was that grime from between the tiles on my bathroom wall. Robin and Cyborg stomached it easily enough, Raven claiming that she was finished after a few bites of burnt toast, though for me, eating was slow and laborious. I managed to swallow half of the bowl before I pushed it away and told Star that it was delicious, but I had a stomachache and couldn't possibly eat another spoonful. She was immediately concerned for me and suggested "much bed rest, for that is the only way to cure an ailment of the belly!" So I was given a glass of water and sent to take a nap against my will. I saw Robin smirking at Star's antics before she pushed me into the hall that led to my bedroom, and though I tried to suppress it, it made me frustrated with her. I pushed her hands away and told her to leave me alone; I could do it myself. She looked hurt but complied, and I felt guilty two seconds later, though by then she had turned around and it was too late to apologize.

I sighed and trudged to my bedroom with my cold water, drinking it slowly and setting it on my bedside table as I sat down on my mattress. I wasn't tired at all, though my chest hurt quite a bit from where Robin had kicked me earlier. I touched my bruised breastbone softly, grimacing in pain. I didn't know what I would do if he kicked me there again the next time we sparred. I closed my eyes, trying to think of what I could possibly do to land a hit. It seemed nearly impossible; every move he made was so precise, so premeditated. Almost like he could read my mind. Or—and I flattered myself by thinking it—maybe I wasn't the only one who had been studying what one of my teammates did while he fought.

I glanced at the group photo of the five of us that sat, gathering dust, beneath my lamp, and I picked it up after a moment's consideration, carefully examining our expressions. The photo was from almost a year ago; taken during one of our now so rare excursions to the zoo. Cy was grinning, as he almost always was, and was topped off with a hat that held two soda cans, with straws leading from the cans down into his mouth. Rae had a grim look on her face and was dressed in her usual blue hood and black leotard. Star and I looked positively giddy, Star clutching a huge, stuffed penguin, me with a pair of comically large sunglasses on, and I noticed, with some strange sickness twisting in my gut, that I had my fingers up behind Robin's head in the forever infamous "bunny ears" symbol. He would have looked firm and serious without my green fingers there, already devoid of zoo novelties, and I sighed heavily, hating that I always had to be the joker of the group. No wonder he's never liked me much, I thought sadly, tracing the curve of his tense jaw with one of my sharp-nailed fingers. I…I annoy him. I'm never serious, or calm, or collected, like he is. Like Starfire is. God…

But am I really that bad?

I closed my eyes and fell back onto my bed, beguiling thoughts racing through my brain. Was there any way to please him? Was there any way to satisfy him, or to impress him, or to make him laugh at one of my corny jokes? I didn't think so. It all seemed so impossible, at that point; Robin had always been—and always would be—the mysterious Boy Wonder, hiding his eyes and his true feelings behind the fabric of his mask. He was a great and loyal friend and leader, but…no one was ever equal to him. He demanded respect from us, and he respected…everyone else on the team but me. I ground my teeth and squeezed my eyes tighter shut, hating that thought. Why was I so weak to him?

I suddenly felt the picture still clutched in my hand, and I held it in front of my eyes again, staring hard into the white blandness of his mask. What would it take to break through that barrier, I wondered? What would it take to see his eyes? To truly see them, instead of the fleeting dark circles I could sometimes spy through the fabric? Would I have to make him like me, or respect me, or…?

What? What was the answer?

I sat up and put the picture back on my bedside table, deciding, with a hard exhale, to take that nap, after all.

I dreamed that we were being attacked by an endless army of shadowy demons, and that everything around me was on fire. I was in a building somewhere; a cold, cement building, lying on my back, and up above me I could see Star and Rae shooting barrages of energy beams at the screaming creatures. I could hear Cy and Robin grunting and yelling as they did battle on the ground, and I sat up, startled by the sights and the sounds and the smells. I got to my feet, and a creature leapt on me, merciless, bloodthirsty. I looked down into its glaring, yellow eye and saw it tear at my body, but I felt no pain. A moment later, I was flat on my back again, and the thing left me alone, leaving me with bloody tracks trailing behind it.

I sat once more and called to Robin; I tried to move from my spot but found that I couldn't. He looked at me once he had defeated his foe, and I saw horror seep into his expression when he saw me clearly. He ran to my side, crying my name in a strange, static-filled voice, and when he knelt down beside me, I realized that he was no longer looking at my face. I felt myself floating up and over him, and I rolled over against my will; I was faced with the sight of my own mangled corpse and Robin, touching my face with gentle fingers, whispering to me, begging me to be alive. I wanted to vomit but couldn't. I was dead. Starfire, Raven, and Cyborg gathered around us, I heard a familiar, evil laugh, and I woke up.

I was panting when I shot into a sitting position, my uniform plastered to my body with sweat, and when I touched my face, I found tears beneath my eyes. I fumbled around on my bedside table for the group picture of us and pressed it face-up onto my pillow, struggling to return my breathing to a normal pace. A few minutes later, I was asleep again, and when I awoke once more later that night, I had forgotten the dream completely.