Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans.

Coyote – Chapter 3

That evening, Gar fairly strutted off the ferry. Best pitch for a job I've ever done! Can't wait to tell her.

"And I'm too sexy for my car, too sexy for my car, too sexy by far," he sang as he strolled the walkway to the tower. New gal, new headshots, new commercial shoot, yeah, things are looking up for yours truly.

"And I'm too sexy for my hat, too sexy for my –"

"Gar!" Cassie was shouting from the tower doors.

"Well, you're here early, Ms. Sandsmark. What's—"

"Weird stuff, Gar. You need to talk to her, Gar, she's locked herself in her room and –"

"Who? What?"

"You're thick as a post, you know that? Ra-ven. Your girl-friend. Hello?"

His eyes widened. "What happened?"

"She got into a fight with Con."

"C'mon, I can't ref every argument around here—"

"No, I mean a fight. She pushed him down!"

"What? The only thing I've ever seen her fight with is her hair. What on earth—"

"I think she was in a bad mood when she got back from her class. A really bad mood. I think she got in trouble. Then Connor said something about her being a whack-job – that jerk—and she tackled him!"

"That just doesn't happen. She'd rather die than hit somebody." He stopped walking. "Wait. She tackled Superboy? You mean, she tried?"

"No. He ended up in the floor. Then she looked at her hands, screamed, and ran for her room. Cyborg followed her and yelled at her the whole way."

They headed for the main tower doors. "That does not sound like our girl. Why –how-"

They entered the tower and found their way to the living area. Superboy and Cyborg were at either ends of the sofa, which was starting to groan beneath their combined weight. Both were silent, chins in hands, eyebrows lowered. Gar could feel the steam pouring out of his best friend's ears.

Connor stared at the floor. "I didn't mean it! I mean, really, it just slipped out!"

Vic muttered, "Stubborn, hard-headed little—"

"Uh, Vic, Cassie told me what happened—"

"Yeah," Cyborg said as he stood up. "And I can't let it continue. Her sensei called and said she was throwing people harder than she should. And now this stunt. She's acting like a—like a –"

"Teenager?" Gar replied with his fists on his hips. "Of course she is, Stone. She may have the mind of an adult, but she's still got some growing pains to go through. Again. We don't know what sixteen was like for her the first time. And how'd you like to go through puberty twice?"

"Once was bad enough, sprout. But someone needs to—"

"Look, you lug-nut, she doesn't need a lecture right now. Let me handle it."

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He rapped on her door. There was no answer except for some soft, muffled sobs. He rapped again and received a curt "Go away!" in return.

He leaned against the outer door frame and crossed his arms. Well, she's still in the same dimension as the rest of us. That's one good thing, anyway. Back in the day, she'd be sulking on some rock in Azarath by now, and I wouldn't be able to get to her. At least she stuck around. That's what you call progress.

He raised his hand to knock again and thought better of it. He removed his suit coat and placed it carefully on the floor outside the door. There's more than one way in, he thought. I just hope she's not afraid of spiders . . .

He scampered under the door on eight legs. Eight legs became four as a forest-green cat took an assessment of the room. The last fading rays of the evening filtered through the dark bedroom and gave the sad lump in the bed a slight glow. Yes, the last refuge of the angst-ridden teen. Been there many times myself. His cat-sense told him all he needed to know: misery, misery, anger, and misery.

He padded over to the bed on velvet paws. Don't know what good it will do for me to stay low. She'll know I'm—

"Are you going to lecture me, too?"

Four legs became two as he knelt beside her. Think happy thoughts, he reminded himself. He began reciting a litany of calming mantras in his mind: Cotton candy, frogs, sunsets, crickets chirping . . .

"No, Raven. I'm just here to help you cry. Here's your shoulder."

In the growing darkness, he could only see the valleys of her face, but he knew the tears were there anyway. With great care, he reached over to touch her cheek. She rolled over and away from him.

"Leave me."

Well, she hasn't left the room yet, anyway.

"It's okay to be upset, you know," he said. And I know how you push everyone away. And we give up too easy. Hard habit to break, I know. But not this time. There's a way to reach you.

He reached again, this time with both arms. She struggled against him with sharp cries as he wrapped them around her shoulders.

"Let me be – let me go," she hissed.

Love you, he thought as loudly as he could, love you. But he said nothing. He just held on, firmly enough to hold her down but not enough to hurt her. Love you still. She pulled at his hands, she rolled her shoulders, she kicked her legs into the sheets. Love you. Hot tears accompanied the heaving sobs in her chest. He said nothing. Love you so much. He just held her to him.

Finally, the struggles stopped. He could feel her back relax. Well, that rodeo's over. Not sure if she's giving up or if she's exhausted.

Her limp body sagged into his shoulders. One arm supported her while he lifted himself onto the bed with her. He pulled her into his lap and cradled her head against his neck. Her eyes leaked hot streams onto his shirt. She doesn't need a loverboy now. She needs a daddy. But I guess I'll have to do.

"Let it out," he finally said. "Just let it all out." He rocked back and forth slowly while he stroked the bridge of her nose with his fingers. Blue shadows faded to gray and to black while she shook in his embrace. Never really seen her like this before, he mused, but I guess she's got to get it out of her system sometime.

The room was completely dark now. Sobs quieted into hard breaths; hard breaths melted into a soft rhythm of a rising and falling chest. Cool fingers found his hand and interlaced with his own.

"I-I am sorry," she said quietly. "I should not have lost my temper."

He ran his fingers through her hair and caressed her scalp. Blue sky, warm sun, waves on the beach, he chanted in his head.

"He did not mean to be cruel, did he? Connor does not know –" Her voice trembled, and the rest of her shook with it.

He traced the outline of her cheek in the dark. He could not see her face, but he could feel it beneath his fingers. "No, but that's okay. It's okay to be mad, you know. Everyone gets angry. He was being a jerk. You're allowed. But somehow I don't think that's the only thing that's bothering you. Am I right?"

A mixture of a gasp and a sob squeezed itself out of her. "You are."

"Do you want to talk to me about it?"

"I do not know how."

Better than a no, anyway. "Please. You said you'd let me love you, darlin'. This is part of it. I know you hate to talk about--"

"It's not that I do not want to talk about it. It is – I do not – I cannot find the words."

"Is it just too big? Too big to get your mind around?"

She nodded into his neck.

"Ah," he replied. Maybe that's been the problem all along. Anytime any of us has asked what was wrong, we've always wanted a canned answer to something too big to stuff into a can. Way too big. He shifted his arms, which were starting to tingle from holding still for too long. "Well, let's break it down. Talk about bits of it. Then we'll put it together, okay?"

"Ask small questions."

Now I'm getting somewhere. "Were you having a bad day, to begin with? Were you hurting again?"

"Quite a bit," she replied.

"Well, that's enough to make anyone grouchy. Are you in pain now? Physical, I mean?"

"I have a headache. That is all."

"Okay, then, we can take care of that. Are you embarrassed by what happened?"

"Mortified. I made a fool out of myself once more."

"And you don't like looking foolish. It's all about the dignity, isn't it? Don't worry. I make an ass out of myself all the time, and I live through it. I'm sure Superboy will live, too. And so will you."

"I felt so angry. But it was not just at Connor. It was – the words – I do not know how to handle anger without..."

"Without going to full red alert? Ramming speed? Damn the torpedoes? Fire at will? I mean you did knock down Superboy, after all. You'd have to be pretty pissed off to do that."

A faint giggle escaped from her. "I think that is a good way to describe it."

He laughed with her. Good to laugh about it. I'll think about how she did it later. "Well, the people in your hometown made you suppress it before. I'm beginning to think that suppression of your emotions and control of your emotions are two totally different things."

"What do you mean?"

Yeah, what do I mean? I've never sounded this wise before. "Eh, well, suppression means you just totally smother it and don't deal with it at all. Control means you deal with it. They taught you one without the other." He squeezed her more tightly. "You got a bum deal, kiddo, that's all. Everybody has trouble controlling their feelings. Hell, you've seen me lose control more than once. But they didn't show you how to really get control at all. They didn't prepare you for life after Trigon."

She choked on her reply. "I was not supposed to have a life after Trigon." She was shaking again.

He took several long, slow breaths before continuing. "And I think that's what you're really upset about, m'dear. Everybody thought about him. Nobody ever thought about you. Even you."

The storm in her roared to life again as his words found their target deep in her heart. He didn't hush her. He didn't calm her. He just let her let it out. A lake of unshed tears poured from her and flooded the room. He just held on and held her tightly. Images of his mother floated in his mind, images of when she had comforted him, kissed his bruises, and sang his hurts away when he was very small. He found that same tuneless song that she had hummed vibrating in his chest and that same warmth she had given him swimming in his heart. And that warmth trickled its way through his skin and into the childlike woman in his arms. And then the squall passed, and her breathing was quiet again.

"You okay?" he asked into the darkness.

"I am feeling...better."

"I think you just needed a good long cry. Maybe we can thank Con for getting you there?" And there will be a lot more of that before she can really get on with things, he told himself. "Bum deal, kid. They didn't give you any tools for dealing with jerks. Maybe we need to add 'the snappy comeback' to your vocabulary. Just like the movies and the fairy tales." He brushed his lips against her forehead. "Sometimes one good line at the right time will defuse a situation, y'know? Better to laugh it off instead, you think?"

"You have an interesting...wisdom," she replied. He felt her fingers resting against his jaw. "How -- how can you love someone so lost as I am? How can you stand the effort? I am nearly insane."

"Loving you is one of the easiest things I've ever done. And all you needed was a little B.B. cuddle therapy." His lips slid down to the tip of her nose and kissed it. "Which I am more than happy to provide. Besides, being a little loco is part of our job description. They won't let you into the superhero union unless you're certifiab—"

Warm lips meeting his cut him off. Grateful affection seeped out of her and encircled him. Yes, loving you, it's very easy, he thought. Almost instinctively, he started to lower her head back down to the bed. Let me show you how easy--

She pulled her face back. He could feel that warmth withdrawing back into her, cowering behind her eyes. Her muscles began to tense up again. Oh. My bad. He reached over and flicked on the lamp as he sat back up. The sudden temperature change made him ache inside. Sitting here and talking in the dark is almost too comfortable, he thought. Go slow, Gar, go slow. Don't get carried away. Don't scare her.

The tension in her eased down when the light came on. She looked back at him, her face a mixture of sadness and apology. Her eyes were tinged with redness, but they were trying to smile at him now. Keeping his arms around her, he helped her to stand on trembling legs. He brushed her hair back behind her ears. I wish I could get you over this. Can't stick you in a tank every time I—oh, let it pass.

"Let's take care of that headache. You hungry? I think we missed dinner."

She nodded weakly. "Actually, yes, very."

"Let me take you out. To celebrate, too, 'cause I've got some good news about that audition. We'll go somewhere you'll love. This is San Francisco. There are more vegetarians per square mile here than there are superheroes in New York! It should be easy to find a good place. Maybe we can take Connor to an Indian joint and enjoy watching him force down some curry with extra peppers..."

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