Cognitive Dissonance

Chapter Eight: Converse Accident

Terra opened her eyes and wished she were dead.

Everything…everything hurt. It felt like somebody had decided to reach inside of her and saw out a few of her bones. With a piece of glass or something. It was even worse than the time she'd accidentally dropped a really heavy stone on her stomach while she'd been sleeping (and that had been bad: she would have thrown up, if she'd had any food in her stomach at the time…). Terra tried to roll over onto her stomach, cringing as a sharp pain drew the breath from her lungs, pain that she couldn't put a name on, that wasn't supposed to be there—but it was there, all the same. There. Why—why would she hurt like that, and—

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no…oh, god.

A rush of memory, realization: last night and she was safe right here, safe in her room with the painted ceiling and the pretty walls and all that, but last night she had…they had… Terra's hands were shaking before she realized it. In fact, the rest of her was shaking, too. She'd…she'd been bad. So bad. She'd…she couldn't even say it, but sooner or later she'd have to say it, just not yet, not yet, she couldn't, couldn't. Terra curled up into a ball, arranging her legs carefully in a way that didn't hurt quite so much, holding her knees because then the shaking was easier to handle, telling herself not to cry. Don't cry again.

Beast Boy had been nice to her. Eventually, she'd managed to stop crying, though he'd been worried about her going back to her room by herself. He'd even offered to come and sit by her bed until she fell asleep, but—well, even though she wanted him to be with her and hug her and tell her that everything was okay, she didn't want him in her room. By her bed. She didn't want a boy in her room, not right now, not ever again. So she'd shuffled down the hallway and back to her room, alone, and didn't cry once she crawled into bed. And even now, hugging her pillow to her chest, folded up so her chin could rest on it, she realized that she couldn't cry, even if she'd wanted to. Terra didn't feel like crying. Mostly she felt dead. Mostly she wished she were dead.

She kind of deserved to be dead, maybe.

Using her palms to push herself up into a sitting position, Terra slowly swung one leg over the side of her bed, then the other. She had to move them one at a time, with her hands, biting her lip against the dull ache that turned more vicious when she tried to move. One foot after the other, she began walking around her room experimentally, cringing every time she took another step. She didn't want to move—would have rather just stayed in bed until last night a distant enough memory that she wouldn't have to look at it, wouldn't be able to see it clearly if she did look. Last night was…it was a mess of blood and pain, like Terra was, and she wanted it gone, scabbed over, not stuck in the forefront of her mind where she had to think about it and stuff.

But Terra had to get used to walking around. Had to relearn how to move. Because the clock on her computer said that she'd already slept past eleven o'clock, and she couldn't be acting weird when the others started wondering where she was. She had to get over this achy feeling before then. Had to get it all out right now. Before they knew.

They could never know. Never, never, ever.

So that's why Terra made herself reach down and touch her toes, stifling a cry, palms grazing the rough carpet. She stayed like that for a few seconds, hair brushing against the floor, before she allowed herself to rise…and promptly pulled one leg behind her, grabbing her desk to keep from falling over. The mirror on her wall caught her eye and Terra wished that it hadn't. A bleary, splotchy face stared back at her, like a guilty criminal, like the ones that they sent to prison—was she just like that, now? Just as bad? Or maybe worse because most of the people they put in jail had stolen stuff, or whatever…no criminal ever did that. She'd heard the term, knew what it was. 'Sleeping with the enemy.' It was like treason. And treason-- they killed people for treason.

Terra looked into the mirror, dry eyes narrowed, forced her mouth to open as she said something that she'd known ever since last night but had been afraid to put into words: "I had sex with Slade." It came out a tentative whisper, barely audible even to her own ears.

"I had sex with Slade," she pronounced, a bit more loudly. This time, it was a guilty verdict.

For some reason, she kept thinking that she should do something, something official, because surely life didn't just go on exactly like always, after you'd done that with a person. Even just saying it was something, at least. Saying it to the mirror, right out in the open where she had to look. Somehow, Terra had always thought that it would have been different. From the way that the others talked, Terra guessed that they just didn't realize. Beast Boy and Cyborg made jokes about it, sometimes, and Starfire would watch movies with her and explain what Terra didn't understand (of course, now she could explain it to Starfire, she could explain it all…). Terra would sooner bite off her own arm than ask Raven about it, and she'd never heard Robin mention it. At all. Ever. He must really not have a clue.

Well, Terra had a clue. Terra knew about sex. She knew the truth.

It was awful.

Terra dressed without looking at herself: she squeezed her eyes shut to do it, even though it took longer because she put her shirt on backwards and then had to squirm and pull at it until it was the right way around. Being naked was so gross, even for just a few seconds. She wished that she could tattoo her clothes onto her body and never have to take them off.

She was trying to drag a comb through her hair when a knock at her door made her pull too hard and she couldn't stop the yelp of pain—which was weird because she hadn't even cried when Slade had…oh god it had hurt so much when he'd…

"You alright, babe?" For the first time that Terra could remember, Beast Boy sounded hesitant. Maybe it was the heavy door making his voice sound weird, but Terra didn't think so.

"Yep, I'm great!" She risked a final glance into the mirror, trying to only see the blonde hair as she smoothed it behind her ears, and not the guilty face. Taking a deep breath, she opened her door, smiling at him with more effort than she'd ever needed in all her life.

The look that greeted her suggested that he didn't really believe she was doing great at all, and that actually he thought she was far from great and was really worried, but he swallowed the concerned protest when Terra put her arms around him. "Thanks for helping—last night, I mean," she said quietly. "I feel way better now." It was about the millionth lie she'd told him, because Terra didn't feel better—except maybe a little, now, when he was holding her like this. When he let her go, she reluctantly stepped away. Terra wanted Beast Boy to hold her forever.

He grinned hesitantly. "That's great. Really…great." Beast Boy glanced down at his shoes. "So…do you feel better enough to come to lunch with us?"

The idea of eating food made Terra want to run back into her room and not come out of bed again for a week. And that was horrifying because Terra couldn't think of a single time in her life when she hadn't wanted food. "Sure!" She wedged a transparent smile onto the face. Why was it already time for lunch?

"Great," said Beast Boy, offering his hand to her (she clutched it a little too tightly). "Oh, guess what? We finally got Robin and Raven to go with us. 'Cos, y'know, they've decided to become allergic to sunlight." He paused. "Not like Raven wasn't always allergic to sunlight, but this is really weird for Robin."

"Allergic to sunlight?" Terra couldn't stop the giggle.

"If you ask me, I'm worried that her virgin blood supply is gonna run out."

Terra stumbled, her mouth dry like it had been coated with cotton.

"Woah, careful there!" He supported her with an arm around her waist, and didn't let her go when she'd regained her balance. She leaned into him, listening to her heartbeat slow as she tried to tell herself that he hadn't meant anything by it, that he didn't know that Raven would have to get her virgin blood somewhere else, because it certainly wasn't going to come from Terra.

She didn't ask him where they were going because it didn't really matter—Terra wasn't going to eat anyway.

The lights and the noise were making Terra's head hurt. It was the kind of building where even a few quiet conversations sounded a lot louder than normal, and there was a little kid screaming in the next booth, directly behind Terra. She didn't know what the boy was screaming about—maybe he just didn't like the food or something. Terra turned her face towards the wall, noticing the way the colored lighting reflected off the metal napkin dispenser. She was glad she was sitting next to the wall because then she didn't have so many people looking at her and expecting her to talk. They'd talk anyway, of course, but—

Talking to them was impossible. Every word, every sentence—tainted with the sour fear that she'd blurt out everything, right out there for everyone to see. It was constantly on the tip of her tongue, ready to spill over if she didn't keep it in check. Hey, Robin, I had sex with Slade last night, how was your weekend? And she had. She did. Everything they'd done…oh, god. Terra didn't do things like that. Terra was a good girl.

No. No, she wasn't. Not anymore. She was different from Raven and different from Starfire or even the boys, now—she'd done something they hadn't done. She'd done a lot of things they hadn't done. Terra looked over at Starfire, who was sitting across from her and slowly pouring the salt and pepper onto the table, mixing them together with almost scientific interest. She was almost sure that she could tell just by looking at Starfire that she—that she hadn't. Terra couldn't decide if that made her feel wonderful or awful. On the one hand, the guilt, the shame, how dirty she was compared to them…but on the other, there was this horrible urge to dance around singing 'I'm better than you-uuu…"

Terra was the youngest and the ugliest and the stupidest. But she'd lost her virginity first, damn it.

Could she get pregnant? She didn't know. It had something to do with bleeding at certain times—and she was pretty sure that it hadn't happened to her yet, but she had bled last night, oh god. Terra wished that he had explained more, or had at least let her stay with him after it was over. She kind of wanted to excuse herself so she could go to the bathroom and see if she was still bleeding, but she hoped she wasn't because it was disgusting and…

It had been sticky. And much more invasive than she was prepared for. And it hurt. Terra wondered if she'd have to do it again—maybe after you did it once that was enough. It hurt and it made her feel kind of sick and it was scary. Having him inside of her scared her.

A lot.

She stared into her menu and tried not to think about it.

"Good to have a break from all the missions, finally," Cyborg commented, making Terra jump because she'd finally managed to tune out all the noise.

Raven nodded from across the table (Terra had sat as far away from her as possible…and Raven was sitting next to Robin, which was what Terra had expected, of course). "Yeah. Quiet is good."

"Uh huh, 'specially after you went all four-eyes at the hospital," said Beast Boy. He reached under the table to hold Terra's hand.

"I don't want to talk about that."

"Will someone please tell me what happened at the hospital?" The worry was thick in Robin's voice, even though Cyborg had already told him about a million times that nobody had gotten hurt and nothing bad had happened. Robin just wanted to know everything. Like always.

Beast Boy yawned, playing with his fork with his free hand. "Like we said: Slade screwed us through the floor big time, that's what happened."

Terra had been looking at Beast Boy so she didn't see it, but the sound of a glass being toppled over made her jerk her head around to stare at Robin, who was watching in shock as the rapidly forming puddle of water spread across the table. He didn't look upset, exactly, more disbelieving…though it was hard to tell with the mask. Terra wondered if his eyes were green. That would match his uniform.

Beast Boy made a few strangled attempts at speaking, cut off by constricting laughter, but finally managed to say, "Alright, that's one thing I never thought I'd see. Y'know, I don't think you're well enough to fight yet—your reflexes are still out to lunch." He collapsed into giggles again.

Raven swore, reached over Starfire to yank a fistful of napkins out of the dispenser and started cleaning up the mess. She said something to Robin that was too soft for Terra to hear, then turned to glare at Beast Boy. "You—shut up."

"Might I assist you?" asked Starfire, staring wide-eyed at the mess.

Raven looked like she was going to say something else, but then the waitress was taking over the cleaning with a towel as Starfire tried to help, and whatever she'd been going to say probably wasn't very nice, so it was just as well. Robin made a move to pick up some of the ice but Raven touched his hand and he stopped. She said something else to him—Terra didn't hear what. Picking up the glass in a swift, easy motion, the waitress announced that her name was Lisa, that it was alright about the water and that she'd be happy to take their orders if they were ready.

When it was her turn, Terra shook her head and tried to explain that she wasn't hungry.

"But, babe, you've gotta eat something!"

So Terra pointed wordlessly to the first item on the menu that her eyes fell on and hoped that Beast Boy wouldn't make her eat it.

Lisa brought Robin another glass of water. He didn't thank her but Raven did. Had she started talking for him, too? Awkward silence fell over the table but Terra didn't really mind because she just wanted to try to think about things. To think about those things. Well, it was silent except for Robin coughing. Terra thought he had to be faking it or whatever—nobody stayed sick for that long.

"Umm…so, Raven?" Beast Boy began just as the silence was starting to become too much for even Terra. "Anything going on in your life that you'd like to share?"

"No," said Raven, staring straight at him, which meant that she was almost staring at Terra, who was immediately reminded of those four, blood-red eyes and the sizzling, smoking concrete…and what else Raven could probably do with those awful powers if she wanted to…

Beast Boy sighed. "Oh, right! You're allergic to talking—sorry, I forgot!"

"Why am I suddenly so interesting?" Raven snapped. "Talk to your girlfriend. Or Starfire. Or Cyborg. Think you can handle that?"

"Please, friend Beast Boy, I do not believe that Raven currently wishes to engage in—"

Beast Boy nudged Terra meaningfully. "Think she's been missing out on the virgin blood lately, right?"

Terra shuddered and scooted away from him until she was pressed against the wall. She really, really wished he wouldn't say that. Because twenty-four hours ago, Terra had been a virgin, but now she wasn't and it had to be something that people could see, some kind of mark and you could tell just by looking…Terra distracted herself by noticing how quiet Robin had become, not like Cyborg who chuckled uncomfortably and Starfire who wanted to know if Raven "truthfully consumed such foul substances." He was staring into the table, head bent, and she thought that his hands were shaking a little. Maybe she'd imagined it. Maybe.

Raven glanced over at Robin with concern before responding, turning to glare at Beast Boy. "You were dropped on your head at birth, weren't you?"

"He was?"

"No, Starfire." She sighed. "Beast Boy. Stop trying to be funny. It's not working."

Beast Boy pointed his fork at her. "That's it, though, that's your problem. You never think anything's funny. You don't ever want any of us to have fun. I can kinda see why you've been hanging out with angst whore over there so much lately. Y'know, I'd almost…"

He didn't get to say the rest.

"Shut up, Beast Boy. Shut the hell up." It was like she was ripping off a little piece of him with every word she spoke. "I don't know when you got your graduate's degree in offensive behavior, but it's going to stop." She paused, glaring. "Immediately."

He blinked at Terra, probably because he was too afraid to blink at Raven. "I…uhh…offensive?" His eyes were absolutely shocked but all Terra could do was giggle nervously, because he had called Robin a whore but Terra was the whore, wasn't she? No, no she couldn't be, couldn't, Slade loved her, she was beautiful, he'd said…

Raven ignored Beast Boy, as if the exchange had never happened, turning calmly to the side so Terra couldn't see her face. "Robin, you've got water all over your shirt—you'd better clean up. Your immune system's not at full yet."

Robin didn't answer for a long time, and his breathing was shallower than it was supposed to be. When he finally did manage to say something, he didn't get very far. "It's…"

"Robin," she said softly, then waited for him to look at her, and added, "please." Normally, Raven didn't say very much. So to hear her interrupting everyone like this was just freaky—and Robin never tolerated being interrupted.

Except when he did. Except when he bit his lip and stared down at the table for a few seconds and then nodded, rising wordlessly and setting some bills on the table without looking at what they were. He muttered something about keeping the change and walked away slowly, more than a little aimlessly. And Robin was never aimless. He never did anything without a specific goal in mind. Maybe he was going to the bathroom to get towels or something, but it just didn't seem that way. Something else was going on, something bigger than the spilled water—something that might actually be linked to the spilled water, now that she thought about it. Why was Raven making him leave…and why was he listening to her when Robin never listened to anybody? Something just didn't make—

That was it, then. They were totally going out.

Everyone else looked totally confused, except for Raven, who mostly just looked like she wanted to telekinetically rip out Beast Boy's heart. With his ribcage and everything. Terra scooted a little closer to the wall, trying to look insignificant. Behind her, she felt the little kid pulling her hair, then poking her neck with tiny, sticky fingers. Terra didn't protest. Terra wasn't very good at protesting.

"Raven, y'know…" Cyborg shifted uncomfortably. "Are you alright? Because that was…"

"Impolite?" guessed Starfire.

"Tell him to stop being impolite, and maybe I will, too," said Raven.

"Just tell him what the problem was, okay? He doesn't understand; none of us understand," said Cyborg. "We can't fix it if we don't know what's wrong."

Raven stared down into her lap, shoulders rising and falling with deliberation, and Terra recognized her carefully controlled relaxation because she remembered that one day when Raven had taught her how to meditate—but why would Raven need to mediate about this? When she looked up again, Terra half expected to see the red eyes, too many eyes for one face, angry and heartless and empty.

But they were just Raven's eyes, thankfully, just violet and intelligent and—well, they were still angry, but not Angry. "What's wrong is that I'm tired of this immature, inconsiderate…" She closed her eyes briefly and took a few deep breaths. "I need to go. I have a headache."

Starfire grabbed her arm and tugged when she tried to rise. "But please, Friend Raven! Might you merely explain to us what caused you to become so troubled?"

When Starfire touched her, Raven flinched visibly and Terra could have sworn that she saw her physically withdraw into herself, just like she'd told Terra to do that one day before they'd fought Cinderblock.

"Star, she has a headache. Let her go," said Cyborg, and he was right. You were always supposed to leave Raven alone when she had headaches and you weren't supposed to ask questions, either. Starfire nodded reluctantly and released her.

Lisa, the waitress, seemed very surprised to see Raven brush unceremoniously past her—and Raven didn't even looking back to apologize when she nearly caused the food to splatter onto the floor. Not like Terra would have really been all that sad. She still didn't want to eat anything. Lisa seemed even more surprised to find that there were four people at the table now, not six, but she just set the plates down, didn't stare too much at the empty seats, and told them cheerfully that if they needed anything else, she would be around.

Luckily, Raven's outburst gave the rest of the table something else to talk about besides the fact that Terra wasn't eating, and it wasn't hard for her to push her food around on her plate so they wouldn't suspect. She hid some of it under her napkin and destroyed some more with about six gallons of ketchup. Nobody noticed. They were too busy discussing Raven and her "permanent PMS," and then awkwardly explaining to Starfire what that was.

But Terra just spent the rest of the meal thinking, trying not to get too much of a headache from the noise and the blinking overhead lights. (And even if she did have one, it would just be a normal headache, not like one of Raven's—those usually meant that something was about to explode.) As she dragged her fork around the edge of her plate in swirling patterns, she wondered if maybe she'd been wrong about Robin. He'd gotten so quiet when Beast Boy had…

Oh.

And then, Terra knew exactly why Robin had gotten upset, why he'd knocked the glass over, and maybe even why Raven had yelled. Beast Boy didn't mean anything by the virgin blood joke but it had upset Terra because Terra knew…and it hadn't upset anybody else. Except Robin. It was so obvious. Why hadn't she seen it before? Robin must know. He had to know. There was just nothing else that could explain the shaking and the silence. And Raven had gotten mad…so did she know firsthand or because Robin had told her?

Terra stared into her crushed up mess of tacos drowning in a lake full of ketchup, clinging to hope. Maybe it wasn't always like that. Maybe it had just been like that for Terra because she didn't know how and she was bad at it. And if anyone could tell her the truth, it was Robin. He knew. She could ask Raven, she supposed, and to anyone else it probably would have seemed like a better idea because Raven was a girl…but Robin knew everything and his eyes didn't go blood red when he got mad. He would be better to ask. When she'd asked him about Slade, she hadn't liked the answer but at least he'd given a good, smart one—and he didn't yell at her or anything. But not right now. Terra had learned her lesson about asking Robin about important stuff at the wrong time. She'd wait till he was happier. And she'd definitely wait until Raven wasn't around; if she caught Terra asking her boyfriend about sex…

Suddenly needing to be touched, Terra shivered and leaned closer to Beast Boy, resting her head against his shoulder. She closed her eyes and concentrated on how nice he smelled and how safe this was, how he'd never hurt her—and she wondered how long it would be before he wanted to, before he'd ask, before he'd do it anyway even if she told him it wouldn't be good. Before he did it anyway.

Like Slade had.

Note to the esteemed readers: Please bear with me in the coming weeks, as I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to keep the weekly pace of updating due to real life getting in my way. Also, the next two updates will be Cognitive Dissonance only, due to differences in the timeline (CD9 and CD10 take place before BL11). CD11 and BL11 will be out at the same time. Thank you very much for all your support so far! If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I love hearing from you all.