Cognitive Dissonance

Chapter Ten: Special Pleading

"It's a mild sprain."

Well. Terra didn't find anything "mild" about how much it hurt, that was for sure. She'd heard of sprains: Robin had sprained his ankle in one of their earlier fights. The next day, he was running on it. So basically, either Robin was more immune to pain than Superman, or Cyborg was wrong and that wasn't really what happened to Terra.

Perched on a cot in the infirmary, Terra shifted doubtfully as he stepped back. "You're sure?" she asked, swinging her legs back and forth. When Beast Boy had helped her drag herself back to the Tower, yelling for Cyborg to come and help her, Terra's arm had hurt so much that she was starting to think that chopping it off might help. But now it wasn't nearly so bad; it was amazing what painkillers could do.

Cyborg nodded. "Nothing broken, but we need to get the rest of you cleaned up." He indicated her torn, bloody clothing. "You said you got thrown onto concrete?"

"No, I got thrown onto grass; I did the concrete thing all on my own."

"Fair enough," said Cyborg. He looked just a little uncomfortable. "Look, umm, we should immobilize your arm, but you also need to get out of those clothes." He turned away, opened a drawer under her cot, and placed a bundle of clothing into her good hand. "I'm gonna make sure you don't hurt yourself by moving your arm, and then we'll leave so you can get dressed, alright?" The 'we' included Beast Boy, who was hovering next to her on the edge of the cot, one hand resting in the middle of her back.

Terra nodded slowly, cringing when Cyborg took a pair of scissors and began to cut her sleeve open. Even with painkillers, it still hurt to have him touch it, and plus she kept trying to tell herself that Cyborg didn't mean anything by it, but it didn't quite work. It hurt, and he was hurting her, and even though he was doing it to help her, it hurt. And somehow, the rubber gloves made it worse, like he didn't want to touch her. Like he knew. He let go as soon as her arm was inside her shirt and at her side.

"I think you can handle the rest by yourself; try to keep your arm still. We'll throw your old clothes away—no, don't worry about that; not a big deal." He headed toward the door, motioning for Beast Boy to follow. "Back in five minutes."

Terra watched them go, waited till they were all the way out of the room before she started wondering how she'd change clothes with one hand, and how getting a shirt on would be any easier than taking it off without cutting it. Five minutes, several failed attempts to get her shirt over her head, and more than one frustrated groan later, she was wearing gray sweatpants and a sleeveless, blue shirt that was too big for her (it kind of looked like something Raven might sleep in).

"You alright?" Beast Boy demanded as he burst through the door.

"Hey again," said Cyborg, knocking on the doorframe as he entered and sending Beast Boy a pointed look.

"Hi," said Terra around a yawn, pulling the shirt up from where the right strap had started to slide off her shoulder. She indicated the ball of wadded up, bloody clothing, which she'd shoved over to the foot of the cot. "What are you gonna do with this?"

"Toss it," said Cyborg cheerfully, raking the whole thing into an official-looking bag. "And now we're gonna keep your arm from running away from you."

"I don't think it's going anywhere." Beast Boy glanced over at Terra's arm, which was currently a nasty shade of dull purple. If it kept swelling like this, she might eventually end up with at least one normal-sized arm. It was just too bad she wouldn't actually be able to use it for anything.

Cyborg laughed as he finished wrapping a bandage around her arm, one that was heavy and kind of tight. "All the same, I'm not taking any chances. Now be a good little grass stain and bring me one of those ice packs." He turned to Terra, continuing seriously as he bandaged the worst of her cuts from where she'd fallen. "You need to rest, keep that arm immobile, and ice it every four hours to stop the swelling. Tomorrow, we'll see what Raven can do for it, but I don't want to make promises she can't keep." He took a small, white bag from Beast Boy and settled it on top of her bandaged arm, Terra gasping when the cold hit her. "I'll be back in twenty minutes to take this off."

"'Kay," said Terra.

"You okay to get some rest?"

"But what about Sl—"

Cyborg's hand on her shoulder, now glove-free, stopped her. "Terra, let's worry about you right now, and then we'll worry about him. You can tell us the full story later—Beast Boy will fill me in while you're sleeping."

"But—" Cyborg was too nice, he cared about her too much, and he didn't even know what she'd almost done; it was wrong, sick, evil…

"Do you need more drugs?" he asked pointedly, indicating that he was finished discussing what happened with Slade.

"Uh uh." The painkillers she'd taken had been in pill form; anything stronger would probably mean a needle, and needles were worse than an arm that kind of ached a little. Besides, the ice was helping.

"Fair enough. C'mon, Beast Boy, let's leave her alone."

Beast Boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Finally, he leaned over and kissed Terra's cheek before helping her lie down (at Cyborg's instructions, he put some pillows under her arm, because it needed to stay elevated, or whatever). "Hope you get better real soon." He pulled the covers over her and squeezed her good hand before following Cyborg, the lights dimming automatically as they left.

"If you need anything, press the button beside your bed," said Cyborg. "G'night, kiddo." Then he reached over and flipped some switch and the infirmary went completely dark.

Terra couldn't figure out what the flowers were doing in her face. She'd smelled them even before she forced her eyes open, but when she finally did look she realized they were white and yellow and lying right next to her pillow. The leaves tickled her nose when she moved to sit up.

Two days after Beast Boy half-dragged her back to the Tower with Terra trying not to cry, she felt much better. Raven had had a lot to do with it; Cyborg had told her what happened and Terra had looked up that next morning to see her sitting by her bed, eyes closed, not responding when Terra tried to talk to her. It had felt strange. A million little prickly things under her skin, untangling the pain like a ball of string and folding it back where it belonged. Terra had drifted in and out of sleep while Raven did it, and the next thing she was aware of was a dark bruise where the bandage and the swelling had been. She'd never seen Raven heal anyone before and had been surprised with how…involved it was—and Terra had been expecting that her arm would be magically good as new (Raven had rolled her eyes and asked when was the last time Terra had tried to heal a sprained wrist with her mind).

It had been nice of Raven. But Raven wouldn't ever be nice if Raven knew half of what Terra had done, or how she'd gotten the sprain in the first place, or…Raven wouldn't be nice at all. In fact, Terra was starting to think that none of them would be very nice to her if they knew. Maybe Beast Boy. Because he loved her, and wasn't love supposed to conquer all? She'd told them the story, or half of it, about how she'd lost her gloves and gone to Bunny Golf to find them, and Slade had attacked her and threatened her and scared her, but she said that she had no idea why he'd been there—even though she did, obviously. Cyborg had assured her that he would tell Robin and that they would figure it out (though she'd cringed at the idea of telling Robin anything that had to do with Slade).

Terra would have prayed that Robin never figured it out, but that seemed kind of like praying that the sun wouldn't rise.

"Hey, sleepyhead."

Her room was dark, and she jumped when Beast Boy's voice dragged her out of her worries, because she'd really thought she was alone. "Oh! Hi!" It took a lot of effort not to recoil when she saw how close he was sitting, because he was a boy, and she didn't want a boy in her room. She stared down at the daisies and tried to smile. "Are these…"

"Yep, for you." He grinned. "I wanted to get you a get well present, even though I guess Raven kind of healed you, y'know, but I was really worried and I just thought I'd—"

"I love them," said Terra. She picked up the daisies, wrapped in pink cellophane like the bouquets they sold at grocery stores (probably where he got them, actually, because Terra really didn't think Beast Boy could arrange flowers and she couldn't imagine him thinking to buy pink cellophane).

He shifted, kind of like he wanted to kiss her, but Terra didn't want him to do that while she was sitting in her bed, so she scooted away from him.

"I should go put them in some water," she said brightly, trying to distract him.

He was instantly concerned. "No, no, I should," he insisted. "Your arm's still all bruised and I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Terra sighed, wondering if he really thought that a bouquet was heavy enough to hurt her. She'd started lifting weights in the gym, and Robin even trusted her enough to do it by herself, now. As long as she promised not to touch the big ones. He'd made her train almost every day, and she was tons stronger already, so even with her hurt wrist she could probably lift more than she could have before.

They probably would have argued for a long time over whether or not Terra was healthy enough to put the flowers in a vase had Starfire not entered the room tentatively, with her hair pulled into a dark red braid, looking hopeful but hesitant.

"Really, I swear that I can—oh, hey, Starfire." Terra waved with her bruised hand, noticing Starfire's sympathetic wince. Cyborg had removed the bandage last night, saying that that would help the bruise heal faster, but Terra thought that it mostly just let everybody see how hideous it was.

Starfire took a few steps closer. "Are you feeling better, friend?"

Terra nodded. "Way better. In fact, I'm bored, and I wish that certain people would let me out of this bed." She cast a deliberate look at Beast Boy, sticking out her tongue.

"That is actually what I have come to speak with you about," said Starfire, and Terra felt a jolt of nervousness run through her. Lately, anyone mentioning that they had to talk to Terra about something made her feel like she'd finally been caught, that everything was about to come crashing down around her. Fortunately that wasn't what Starfire wanted to say. "I would very much like for you to accompany me to the mall of shopping today, if you are healthy enough."

Terra felt her stomach plummet through several floors of the Tower. That was almost worse than being caught. Because if she got caught, she wouldn't have to just smile and stare back easily at Starfire and tell her that sure, she'd love to go shopping with somebody that she'd almost murdered last night. It was impossible, but she had to do it anyway. So Terra made her head nod up and down against its will, shoving a grin onto her face. "Sure! I'd love to!"

"No way, Terra, you're too weak to be going to the mall!"

"Beast Boy…"

"But…but what if you get tired and pass out and there's nobody there to save you?"

"Beast Boy, if Terra should need assistance, I would be most capable of providing it," said Starfire.

"Yeah, see? It'll be fine." Terra stood up, though she was careful to avoid bumping her arm on anything, wriggling away from Beast Boy when he tried to stop her. Every instinct in Terra's head told her that going to the mall with Starfire would just make it worse, only, she did want to go—she just wanted to go in a different universe, one where she was a good girl and Slade didn't exist, or was maybe locked up in jail somewhere, except he wasn't really bad, so he shouldn't go to jail, and yet he was, and god… "It'll be fine," she repeated, looking into Starfire's eyes for a kind of reassurance that she couldn't offer, that nobody could offer.

"I'm gonna regret this," muttered Beast Boy.

"You are most welcome to join us, of course," said Starfire, a hint of a mischievous smile fading as soon as you tried to look for it. "No doubt that you would be quite interested in visiting the place where Victoria has secrets…"

He paled. "I'm…gonna go wash my brain out now. Kay?"

You didn't go shopping with people you'd almost killed. You just didn't.

It was wrong. It was sick. Some kind of horrific film playing over and over that Terra couldn't stop, as Starfire tried on hat after brightly colored hat. It hadn't taken long to figure out that Starfire was fascinated by random things from Earth (after much cajoling and halfway into The Princess Diaries, she'd finally convinced Terra to try drinking mustard…actually, it wasn't half bad, in small amounts) and she really liked hats. The concept of matching was still beyond her, and it always seemed as if she managed to find the wildest ones imaginable, but when you were tall and beautiful enough you could make anything look like a fashion statement.

"Terra, do you prefer the blue one or the yellow one?" She twirled around in front of the full length mirror, stopping in front of Terra with both hats on her head.

"Yellow, definitely," said Terra. The yellow one didn't have as many sequins. Terra went back to her task of finding some clothes that fit. She was too big for everything in her closet. After being subjected to humiliating weekly weigh-ins and subsequently gaining fifteen pounds, Terra had been pronounced healthy and Robin had stopped obsessing over her diet. Before, she'd gotten all her clothing at charities or abandoned in lost and found bins, things that were meant for little kids—at least she didn't have to shop in the kids' department now. It was kind of strange to be bigger—stronger—and it made her feel just a little bit more like Starfire and Raven and all the other normal girls in the world. Well, Raven and Starfire weren't normal—Starfire wasn't even human, and Raven wasn't exactly a normal girl. But whatever. That wasn't the point.

They left the store some time later: Starfire with the yellow hat and three bracelets, Terra clutching a bag full of clothes in sizes that she never thought she'd be able to wear.

"May I ask you a question?" She was startled to hear Starfire speak so suddenly, and it occurred to her that the girl had been uncharacteristically quiet for the entire trip.

Terra shuddered as if injected with liquid fear. She didn't like questions anymore, especially not questions that seemed very serious. "Sure," she said, but she wasn't at all sure and really wanted to go back to talking about bracelets.

"I asked you to accompany me in part because I wished to ask you some questions. Things have been…different, lately." She cast a disinterested glance into a window to see what was on sale before continuing. "It seems as if something—no, something has happened, and it troubles me because…" She broke off, shaking her head, searching for words. "I—I do not think…"

"Look, whatever you're going to say about me, just give me a second to explain, okay, I swear it's not what it looks like," she pleaded, words spilling over faster and faster as she felt herself losing control, having to stop and take deep breaths and ground herself like Slade had taught her—then feeling sick because she was using Slade's techniques to help her stay in control. Starfire knew-- she'd figured it out; Terra was in so much trouble…

Starfire's confused expression mitigated her panic somewhat. "Explain? I am confused as to your meaning, since I had meant to inquire about Robin."

Terra shifted, bouncing the shopping bag against her knees and pretending to be very interested in a guy in a kiosk selling chocolate bars. She forced a laugh. "Oh, right, Robin! I'm just stupid, don't worry, just ignore me."

Tapping her on the shoulder so Terra would look at her, Starfire bit her lip. "And I had thought that only Robin exhibited the paranoia." But the lines on her forehead melted away, and she let the matter drop, returning to the subject and leaving whatever she was going to say about Terra safely unspoken, where it belonged. "I have hardly seen him in weeks, he avoids all unnecessary conversation, and I have not seen him this…devoted to his work since—" She shook her head. "Truthfully, I miss his company greatly but that is less important. I feel that there is something seriously wrong with him."

"Yeah, he's too smart." Terra giggled.

"This is not funny, Terra."

"Sorry," she said, sidestepping a little kid with a balloon. "But why ask me? Why not ask Raven, since they're, like…" She wanted to finish that sentence, but something in Starfire's eyes told her that she shouldn't, so Terra closed her mouth and stared at the little kid, who was now balancing on a bench with his hand in a potted plant.

"I did," said Starfire, and at that moment her attention was taken by a display of blue jeans in one of the store windows. Only Terra didn't think it really could be, because Starfire hated jeans. She'd always said they restricted her movement. "She told me that the matter was none of my concern, and, furthermore, that she had the headaches and did not wish to be disturbed. But, Terra…" And when Terra looked back at her, Starfire just seemed so…worried. "I fear that the matter is of my concern. I fear that it is of all of our concerns. I fear that…" She trailed off and didn't say any more.

"Well, he hasn't said anything to me, if that's what you wanted to know." Terra really didn't think there was anything wrong with Robin because he hadn't been acting any weirder than he always acted, and besides, she wanted to steer the conversation into safer territory. Like bracelets. Bracelets were good. But she couldn't just avoid it, not when Starfire was so upset. "I could ask him, if you—"

"No, that will not be necessary, thank you. Terra…" Starfire stopped walking, making Terra stop in turn, and she saw the uncertainty and the doubt and the fear as an almost physical entity, like something dusty clinging to Starfire's hair. "Do you ever get the sense that…"

"That what, Starfire?"

"That something very terrible is about to happen?"

Not unless I do something very terrible.

Terra didn't get a chance to answer, though, because when she opened her mouth to say something that hopefully wouldn't incriminate her, she realized that Starfire wasn't looking at her. Following her gaze, she noticed a blond girl in a pink tube top and white pants that were far too tight, a scowl on her face and shoulder-length hair pulled back with a heart-shaped, sparkly clip. She looked frighteningly like Terra, actually, except Terra was pretty sure that she didn't look this sour on a regular basis. A giant trash bag was perched near the girl as she bent over a bench, scraping chewing gum off the handrails.

Wondering what was so special about this girl, Terra waved a cautious hand in front of Starfire's face. "Umm, who's that?"

From the look on Starfire's face, you might as well have told her that she'd just won ten million dollars and a fabulous new car. At least she'd been distracted from whatever about Robin was worrying her. She took a few steps closer until she was in earshot of the girl. "Oh, her name is Kitten." The way she said it sounded like one of the Tamaranian swear words that Starfire said sometimes when she was very angry. "In the past, she was found guilty of some very bad things. It seems that she is currently getting the just desserts, however." Starfire raised her voice slightly, giving Kitten a friendly smile that Terra suspected was not at all friendly. "Hello, Kitten! Did you have a productive stay in prison?"

Kitten looked up from her gum scraping expedition, staring at Starfire for one horrified moment before sticking out her tongue. "Community. Service." She kicked her trash bag and paused to readjust her tube top. "Ugh. I guess they wanted to punish me even more by sending losers to bother me." She looked down her nose at Terra, sneering. "Who're you?"

"Err…Terra?"

"You could really use an eyebrow waxing, you know," she commented easily, turning back to Starfire with a wicked smile. "Hey, how's Robbie—"

The rest of Kitten's sentence sounded a bit like what Cyborg had sounded like the time that Beast Boy had emptied an entire bottle of mustard into his soda. Because the little kid with the balloon apparently decided that now would be a good time to throw up. Worse, he apparently decided that the perfect place to throw up was on Kitten's high-heeled shoes.

"Oh dear, that does seem most unpleasant," Starfire murmured, though the delighted grin on her face suggested that she found it anything but unpleasant. Terra thought it was unpleasant. Especially the smell, which was making Terra's stomach behave uneasily, and she looked away from the mess, swallowing heavily. "I do hope that you shall find a solution. For now, we bit you farewell—best of luck with the service of the community!"

"I—I—you—my daddy bought me these shoes—they cost six hundred dollars in France—this is all your fault!"

Terra felt kind of bad about leaving, even though the smell was making her sick, but Starfire grabbed her hand in an insistent grip, and you couldn't get away from Starfire once she decided she was dragging you along. Plus, the whole thing was kind of gross anyway, and Terra wasn't sure if she really wanted to help. Or even if she could if she did want to.

And anyway, Starfire didn't really seem all that distressed. As in, she didn't seem distressed at all.

"Hey, Starfire, what was that all about?"

An interesting bounce accentuated each of Starfire's steps—she was almost flying but not really. "Kitten was a very bad girl who most fortunately got exactly what she deserved."

Something about the whole conversation bothered Terra as she looked down at the daises planted in the flower beds outside the mall. Like the ones that Beast Boy had given her. "But, she's just a kid, like us."

Starfire shrugged. "Her age does not excuse her. I am quite pleased at the circumstances in which she has found herself."

And Terra just nodded because she couldn't think of a good answer, not with the daises sneering up at her like some kind of guilty conscience, not with Starfire's righteous, effortless tone of voice, not with the image of Kitten's tiny frame and blonde hair stamped into her memory. She was bad. She was young, but she was still bad, and she got what she deserved, and maybe she didn't mean it, maybe she had a reason, but none of that mattered to Starfire.

Terra couldn't remember if she was thinking about Kitten or herself, but when this was all over she was pretty sure that she'd end up with more problems than vomit on her shoes.