Disclaimer: Do I really have to say it?

A/N: Sorry about the long wait. I've been having a serious case of Writer's Block. I just recently got over it. Hopefully, I'll be able to update more often, but what with college, I wouldn't bet anything important on it.

Chapter 6

Beast Boy lay on his bed, silently staring at nothing. Because that's all he could see. Nothing. Not even blackness.

It was strange. Every time he had hear or read a description of blindness, it had always involved an endless darkness. But he didn't even see that.

He couldn't let himself think too long about what it was like to look into an emptiness so deep that black and dark couldn't even exist. It was too disturbing.

Sighing, he sat up carefully. A few months ago, the action would have left him with an aching head. But Cyborg had removed the top bunk a while ago. He made a mental note to thank his friend for that later. Warily, Beast Boy felt for the side table where Starfire had left his meal. If he had to act like a jerk so she wouldn't feed him like a baby, the least he could do was feed himself. Unsure as to the exact location of the bowl, and not very anxious to make a big mess he couldn't clean up himself, Beast Boy sniffed at the air. He could smell the soup. Veggie, as promised. Still hot. Just a little to the left.

His hand came in contact with the hot bowl, but he didn't bother noticing the scald. Keeping his left hand on the bowl, he searched for the spoon with tentative pats on the tray. Let's see. Nothing, nothing, cup, nothing, napkin, nothing, nothing, got it!

Carefully, he took the bowl in his hand and lifted it to just below his chin. Just as carefully, he ladled some soup into the spoon and brought it to his mouth. Smiling as he chewed, Beast Boy silently celebrated his first self-feeding in... God, how long had it been? Time had lost all meaning when he lost his sight. Actually, pretty much everything had lost its meaning. He didn't even know the time, let alone the day. A week, a month, a year might have passed. He had no clue.

His friends had been tolerant. More than tolerant, he admitted. They had forced him to survive when he would have been content to let himself die.

Beast Boy grimaced. He could see why Raven was so moody all the time.

Emptiness did that to a person.

Raven watched Beast Boy from the shadowed doorway of his room. He hadn't noticed the door opening or her presence. This was the first time she had seen him since the hospital.

If she had a heart, it would be breaking.

He made a pitiful figure, sitting on the edge of his bed, spooning food into his mouth interspersed with occasional, awkward sips of soymilk. But his eyes were the worst. Those eyes that used to be so animated, so alive. And now they were empty, flat. Dead.

It wasn't just the blindness. She had seen blind people before, but none of their eyes had been as blank as Beast Boy's were now. No, it was an emptiness that went much deeper. All the way to his soul.

Raven bit her lip before she could release the guilty cry that rose in her throat. It was her fault. It was all her fault! If she had only been stronger... But she hadn't been. What she had told Robin had been truthful as far as it went, but it hadn't gone very far.

True, she had healed Beast Boy as best she could. What she didn't say was that she healed by absorbing pain into herself. Not the injury; just the pain. But the result was the same: the injury vanished with the pain.

She hadn't been in shock at the hospital that day. Not entirely. She had been in pain! Her entire body had been screaming from the extent of Beast Boy's injuries.

If she had only taken a little bit more... if she had only doctored his head first, she might have spared his sight. His eyes might not be so blank, so empty.

It was all her fault.

Terra stepped out of the shadows and into the even darker presence of her master. Although she had successfully avoided him for almost eight weeks, she had known it couldn't last. Actually, she was surprised she had gotten away with it for so long. She had overreacted about Beast Boy those months ago. But it had been a very... emotional time of month for her. And she suspected her leader knew it, which only made the situation worse.

She came as close to Slade as she dared. He may have rescued her from an eternal rocky sleep, but she hadn't forgotten how he had treated her before then. And she still feared him.

He didn't have the control over her the suit had allowed. It had melted in the lava. The resulting scars all over her body were a small price to pay for the dubious freedom she had been given. She wouldn't take it for granted again.

"Terra. Report."

He had an amazing ability to greet and order at the same time. And with complete nonchalance.

Terra looked up at him. Literally. He was seated in a chair set on a dais like a throne. But that was where the obvious nobility of the room ended. The chair in which he was seated was an overstuffed armchair of soft brown leather. On his right stood a mahogany side table set with a delicate porcelain tea set. If it had been anyone else in the midst of such a setting, she would have questioned his... preferences. However, Slade had an aura about him that commanded respect and obedience. Even if he did drink tea.

She clasped her shaking hands behind her back before responding. "There's nothing to report," she answered. "No one has left the Tower. There haven't been any serious crimes, so the police have been able to handle everything that has come up."

"Hmm." Slade cradled a teacup in his hands, but made no move to take a drink. That would involve removing his mask, which he never did. Not even in front of Terra.

Especially in front of Terra.

"The Titans have upgraded their security. So far, there's no way to tap it." She punctuated her information with a shrug. "And that's all."

"'That' is never 'all'," he countered. Slade set his cup aside and rose to his feet in one smooth motion. "I expected better from you, Terra." He began walking down the steps toward her. "You had shown such promise. You almost succeeded in destroying me. Almost," he finished mockingly.

By now, he was right in front of her. Terra refused to be intimidated. She wouldn't let him know he could still frighten her merely by being alive. She stood her ground and raised her chin a notch.

Slade began circling her like a vulture around a slowly dying animal. "I would think, after everything I have done for you, you would owe me more than this."

"I don't owe you anything!" Terra snapped, betraying herself with the vehemence in her voice.

Slade stopped on her left. "Oh, I think you do. Not only did I teach you everything you know, I also revived you when your so-called 'friends' would have left you with nothing but a plaque. I even took you back after you tried to kill me. Who else would have given you so many chances?"

Beast Boy would, she thought. He might not love her anymore—if he ever had—but he was still her friend. He would have given her another chance. The only reason she hadn't gone to him immediately was because she did feel as though she owed Slade. Not that he would ever hear it from her.

Would he still forgive her, after she caused him to lose his sight? He had to! He might not love her anymore, but he would again. She could take care of him, and he would start loving her once more.

"I owe you nothing," she repeated.

Slade studied her for a moment, then turned and began to walk away. After no more than five steps, he turned on her, his fist flying out at her with deadly precision. Instinctively, she used her powers to force a wall to protect herself from the fist. Slade's hand crashed into the limestone barrier a split second after it appeared. There was silence. He made no move to take out his hand; she made no move to remove the barrier. It was impossible to decipher his reaction. The one eye left visible by his mask revealed no emotions. Finally, he pulled his hand from the crevice created by the force of his blow and deliberately turned away again.

"I want results, Terra," he demanded, never changing his leisurely pace. "Find out what is going on inside Titans Tower. I want to see how each of them has recovered."

"And if I can't get in?" she retorted snidely.

Slade paused at the exit. "Lure them out."

Beast Boy froze. There was someone in the room. He heard someone breathing. Someone other than him. "Who is it?" he demanded.

Raven wanted to leave. She wanted to take advantage of his new handicap and escape. Her every instinct screamed for her to run. But she knew she couldn't do that to him. He deserved better.

"I...it's me," she answered.

Beast Boy relaxed slightly. The one person who hadn't been to visit him. At least, he couldn't remember hearing her voice for a long time. "Hey."

Raven bit her lip. His voice sounded so dull. "I just wanted to s..." She wracked her brain for a cover.

"To see me," he finished. His mouth twisted into a cynical mockery of his former grin. "Hey, at least you can."

Raven hated this. Hated hearing him joke about himself. And hated herself for giving him a reason to. The only reason she didn't cry was because she wouldn't let herself, and because there was a light back in his eyes. It was dim, but it was there.

"Beast Boy, I..."

But before she could finish, the alarm went off. She thought about ignoring whatever emergency, but before she decided, Beast Boy made the choice for her. "Better get going," he said. "They'll need you help."

The smile, forced as it was, had vanished. So had the tiny light that had illuminated his unseeing eyes for so short a time. After one last look, Raven turned away without finishing her statement. Sometimes, "I'm sorry" just wasn't enough.