Okay, I think people are a bit confused about my intentions for this story. I probably just haven't been very clear in my writing. Beast Boy isn't technically an alcoholic. True, he is dependant on the alcohol, but... just wait, you'll see. All will be cleared up in the next chapter, and things will start to move along much faster.

Also, I would just like to say that this story may or may not end up as a slash, I don't really know yet.

And finally, thank you for all the positive reviews.

Enjoy the story.

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"Ugh." Beast Boy's nose wrinkled and his lip curled back. "What is that awful smell?" he mumbled, still very much asleep. In an attempt to stave off the invading scent, he switched from breathing through his nose to breathing through his mouth. It really wasn't much better, instead of a horrible scent, he was met with a terrible hot moistness that fell into his mouth and left a bitter tang upon his tongue. His eyes broke open at the sheer annoyance of it all, and he was now fully awake. He found himself to be on his stomach, his face buried deep under his armpit. "Jesus Christ," he said, pushing himself up, "I fucking wreak!"

His bed sheets were twisted up with sweat and molded around his body. Sometime during the night, through some magical force, he had knocked half the items off his nightstand, the mattress had slid to a spot where it was precariously hanging, inches from falling to the ground, his pillows had been tossed across the room, and his boxers had been pushed halfway off his ass.

"Did all this happen during the night?" he asked himself aloud, "or did something happen that I don't remember?" Beast Boy was able to untangle his upper body from the sheets and sit cross legged in the center of his bed. A dull, pulsing pain was making itself known as it began to ripple through his head and then down to his hand. Glancing toward his palm, he saw that it was wrapped in a dirty bandage tinged with red blood. "How the hell did I cut myself?"

He sat there for a moment like a school child waiting for the teacher to read a story, trying to think about the events leading up to him in a completely destroyed bed, a cut on his hand. "Hmmm." He put his hand to his chin for a moment. "Hey!" He suddenly straightened up his posture and smeared a smile across his face. "Maybe I got laid!" He looked around trying to find where the lucky girl might be. He leaned forward and peered under his bed, emerald hair, greasy and dull, hung down around his face like stringy seaweed. A stack of dirty magazines and a towel he called Veronica were piled together at the spot where his bed met the wall. A single sock sat alone at the end of the bed parallel to them, but there was no person to be found. "I guess not," he said, pulling himself back up into a sitting position. After a moment he solved the puzzle of freeing his legs from his sheets and pushed himself off his bed, grabbed some clothes, and headed to the shower.

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"I got some bacon, and some sausage, and some ham." Cyborg leaned over his plate of breakfast, his teeth and gums acting like a dam, holding back the saliva that was so close to spilling forth.

"You do indeed have many animals upon your plate," Starfire agreed cheerily. She herself sat in front of a steaming bowl of oatmeal, her hand clutching a bottle of mustard, ready to rain it open her cereal.

"Wait, wait, wait," Cyborg said, gesturing back to his plate, "I also got some eggs; sunny side up, over easy, and scrambled. Then there are the sweet, sweet pancakes with just a touch of maple syrup." His saliva now ran unabashedly down his chin. Starfire stared for a moment, mustard gushing forth and pooling on the top of her oatmeal.

"Er, yes," she nodded enthusiastically, "that is very nice, Cyborg."

"How can you stand to eat all that?" Raven asked, disgusted. She brought her mug of tea to her lips and let the warm liquid, sweetened slightly with a glob of honey, gush past her teeth and slide gently down her throat. After a moment she picked up a piece of toast and bit into it, hoping to settle the queasiness that had built up in her stomach in the past eight hours, ever since she had seen Beast Boy in the kitchen, drunk off his ass.

"Mmmm…" Cyborg said, biting through a thick sausage, its clear juices running down his face.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Raven said, placing a hand over her mouth, "that is totally and infinitely disgusting."

"Raven?" Starfire asked, "Why are you in such a mood?" The alien girl spooned a helping of mustard laden oatmeal into her mouth, allowing the tangy soup to dance across her tongue and send signals of pleasure straight up to her brain. Raven frowned for a moment before her expression softened.

"I'm sorry, guys," she apologized. "It's just that I'm really worried about Beast-" her eyes went wide. She didn't mean for that to blurt out, she needed to talk to Beast Boy first before she jumped to any conclusions. "I mean, I've just got a lot on my mind," she tried to cover her mistake, but it was obvious that the other two weren't buying it when she saw them exchange a glance.

"What did the little dude do this time?" Cyborg asked, interested. Beast Boy could technically no longer be called "little dude", but the metal man had never discarded the nickname.

"Nothing," Raven told him, standing up and bringing her plate to the sink.

"But you said that you were worried about him." Starfire's face was creased in confusion.

"I did not." Raven felt that if she continued to deny it, they would probably get bored and leave it alone. Yeah, that would work. Hopefully.

"Raven, you are indeed acting strange," Starfire said, standing to bring her bowl of bright yellow oatmeal to the sink, placing it upon Raven's plate.

"Speak of the devil," Cyborg spoke just loud enough for the two girls to hear. They both turned in time to see Beast Boy stride into the room, eyes cast downward, avoiding any light sources. His hair was wet and hung in clumps around his face. He did not engage in any conversations with his fellow Titans, instead heading straight for the fridge. "You look kind of pail, BB," Cyborg said, quirking an eyebrow. "You sick or something?" Beast Boy shook his head and thrust his hand deep inside the bowels of the fridge, pulling out a carton of orange juice. He tipped it back and drank straight from the carton, downing what was left of the delicious citrus beverage.

"What has happened to your hand?" Starfire spotted the fresh bandage Beast Boy had applied to his lacerated palm. He looked down at the wrapped appendage and then hid it behind his back.

"Nothing," he mumbled, "I just… you know." Starfire nodded slowly and tried to catch Raven's eyes, but the dark teen would not allow the meeting to take place.

"You want me to make you some breakfast, BB?" Cyborg asked. He didn't like the way Beast Boy looked or was acting, something was obviously wrong. Today, Cyborg figured, it would be best to skip the usual meat versus tofu argument.

"No thanks, Cy," Beast Boy said, throwing the emptied carton of orange juice into the trash, I think I'm just gonna go to my room for a bit." He began to shuffle slowly towards the doors leading out of the common room.

"We need to talk, Beast Boy." Raven's voice cut through the silent room like a sword through flesh. The green Titan paused momentarily, but shrugged Raven off.

"Not now, Raven," Beast Boy told her, nearing the door to the common room. Raven suddenly grabbed the changeling's shoulder just before he passed through the exit. She didn't grab him hard, but it surprised Beast Boy and he jumped slightly. He turned toward Raven, a hand pressed hard to the side of his head, trying to keep the throbbing headache from tearing his head asunder.

"Can I help you?" He asked, slightly annoyed.

"We're supposed to talk, Beast Boy." Raven's face was blank.

"Talk?" Beast Boy's face molded itself into a confused frown. "What do you mean?" BB honestly had no idea what Raven was talking about. Maybe she fell down and hit her head. Maybe she's gone insane. Maybe… Oh no, she looks mad.

"Are you telling me you don't remember our little talk last night?" Raven asked, quirking an eyebrow. Beast Boy thought for a moment. Well, all he remembered was going to the bar to drink, and then nothing at all. Everything leading up to waking up this morning in his twisted and tangled bed didn't seem to want to be known. His memories kept themselves just out of his reach. He scrunched his face up in deep concentration, trying his hardest to lure them back.

"No, I don't remember anything," he said sadly. He knew he was in trouble though. If he had been that wasted and he had crossed Raven's path, nothing good could have possible come of it. He just hopped he hadn't made a total ass of himself. Raven sighed deeply.

"Beast Boy, come with me." She latched onto his elbow and led him away from the stares of the other Titans in the room whom had begun to inch closer, curious as to what was going on. As they went through the doors they passed Robin by.

"You don't look so good, Beast Boy," He said, stopping where he was. "Are you okay?" The green Titan let his eyes fall to the ground and stumbled over his feet, nearly tripping.

"I don't know," he said softly.

Robin's eyes tried to find Raven's as she helped to steady Beast Boy, still leading him along. She finally met Robin's gaze, a touch of sadness etched upon her face, and said to him, "But we're going to find out."