Disclaimer: I do not own teen titans or the words to 'Breaking the Habit' by Linkin Park.
Hand in Hand
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Breaking the Habit
18th December 21:09
Raven fled over the threshold of Titan's tower and ran straight to her room. At least that was the plan, as she was passing through the kitchen she came across her spell book. Anger flickered in her as she remembered why she'd bought it and in an act of rage she picked up the leather bond book in her hands and flung it as hard as she could across the room.
It flew through the open door and smacked the wall with a dull thud and fell to the floor, crinkling and tearing the pages as it went.
Raven's chest heaved as she gulped in breaths of air, the adrenalin and hurt in her system using up all of her oxygen quicker than she thought possible. Why did nothing ever go right for her? Why did everything go wrong? Was she just a magnet for discontent? A jinx on the living world?
She felt something hot and wet sliding down her cheeks and she reached up to wipe it away. She lowered her hand and saw the tiny diamond like teardrop that rested on the fingertip of her dark blue glove.
She was crying. Dammit he had made her cry. No one ever made her cry, she used to see to that. She couldn't understand why she was crying now. The icy coldness of the air in the tower closed in around her, killing the warmth on her skin and leaving an empty space where her anger had been.
Raven took a shallow shuddering breath, why did this have to happen now? Why now? She cursed her home planet and all that resided on her, why did this have to happen now? She closed her eyes and tried to block the emptiness out.
She knew that there was no one in the tower, they were all out buying last minute gifts or betraying others' trust. She clenched her fist in memory of what she had witnessed. Had she been so easy to cast aside, she had opened up to Aqualad, and this was what he did to her, she had thought that he wanted to help, but it seemed she had been wrong in that assumption.
Trying to slow her breathing down she glared at the book that now rested upon the floor, and all the sadness that she had locked away to stop Aqualad and Claire seeing came flooding back in salty torrents that ran down her cheeks like warm rain.
She felt the scars along her arms begin to itch, and the silence, that horrible silence that she thought had left her for good, came roaring back in the quiet of the empty tower.
Memories consume,
Like opening the wound,
I'm picking me apart again
She froze, caught between crying her heart out on the cold kitchen floor, or running up to her room and quieting the silence in her ears. Her eyes, wide and scared darted around the shadows of the room, the kitchen looked otherworldly when there was no electric light to light up the darkened spaces that were not lit by the light of the moon through the windows.
Panic rose like bile in her throat, she scratched at the skin on her arms through her dark blue sleeves. At some point, the rational part of her mind shut down completely. She tried blinking back the tears as she tugged at the cloth covering her arms, but she couldn't stop the flood, once the door was open, it could never be closed, or so they say.
She unclasped her cloak and let it fall to the floor, realising in her distorted mind that she would have to take off her sleeves if she was satisfy the itch that was plaguing her.
The roaring in her ears was amplified; she wondered how silence could be so noisy. It was a paradox in itself. But the thought slipped away from her as she reached up to her shoulder and began to pull at the ties that held her long gothic sleeves in place. The strings slid out of their knots easily and the sleeve slipped off to join the cloak upon the cold tiled floor. Moments later the other joined it.
Raven looked upon her arms, she hadn't cut them in days now, she had been holding off the feeling for Aqualad and Claire's sakes, but somehow that reason was no longer valid. She moved her fingers over the healing scars and began to scratch at them.
It only took a few seconds for her to feel her nails pulling off the re-knitting skin, reopening the wounds and letting her blood spill again.
But this time, it wasn't enough. The pain flickered away after a few seconds, swallowed by the sounds of the silence and the worthlessness that was soaking through her skin.
Mere pain was never going to be enough this time.
You all assume,
I'm safe here in my room,
Unless I try to start again
It had to be something more than pain. She had hopped on the Desperation Train and now she must see it through to the end. She wasn't going to get off at the next stop like last time; she was going to make sure it went off the rails.
It was perfect, the simplest thing that had ever crossed her mind, how else was she going to rid herself of all the feeling and paranoia that she didn't want? How else was she going to rid the world of her morbid presence? She was amazed she hadn't thought of it sooner.
Should she write a letter, explaining why she did it? Explaining why she couldn't go on living in this world any longer? No. She didn't think she even had the will power to write the damning words. She'd just end it and let them figure out her reasons later.
All around her the cupboards began opening of their own accord, slamming open and shut, the cutlery rose off the side board and blade began rattling in the piles they were laid in on the side.
She drifted towards the sink, a kind of quiet determination now settled over her, gone was the rage of seeing the betrayal, they would have to suffer with it for the rest of their lives, she only had to suffer for a few more moments.
I don't want to be the one the battles always choose,
But inside I realise that I'm the one confused,
I don't know what's worth fighting for,
Or why I have to scream,
I don't know why I instigate and say what I don't mean,
I don't know how I got this way,
I know it's not alright,
So I'm breaking the habit, breaking the habit,
Tonight
Her pale hands moved towards the knives that hovered above the draining board, held aloft by dense black energy. She reached out to grab one. A droplet of blood from one of her opened cuts dripped onto her palm, she stared at it for a moment, enraptured by the sight of the substance that gave her life, as red as the core of the third moon of Azarath. It was beautiful. It reminded her of when she was a child and she used to sit upon the marble walls of her home palace and stare up at the six moons as they rotated around the planet.
She felt an ache in her chest, another reason for her to end it, her planet, her home, was dead. It was never coming back. Why should her planet and its people suffer so when she lived on? It had to be rectified; she had to purge herself of guilt.
Water purified, so why shouldn't blood? It was thicker than water after all.
She shook herself back into action; the tears finally dry on her cheeks, leaving behind a trial of bitterness and despair. Her cold fingers curled around the hilt of the kitchen knife and she pulled it from its place in the air.
She ran her fingertips loving along the sharp edge, sighing as she felt the metal tickle the nerves in her skin. Using her powers she dragged the wooden chair out from under the table, her cloak caught around its legs and rumbled into a dark blue pile.
She took a few steps forwards and collapsed on the solid wooden base of the seat, her shoulders sagged forwards and she rested her bare and bleeding arms upon the cool surface, her right hand still clasped tightly around the knife.
It didn't bother her anymore that the knife was not the one she normally used, it was more than decoration and relief this time, it was the end of all hope. She didn't want to taint her silver knife with that despicable act.
Clutching my cure,
I tightly lock the door,
I try to catch my breath again
Lock the door that was what her mind told her, lock the doors; so that if anyone did come home, they wouldn't be able to get to her in time. She didn't want them to stop her; she couldn't bare life if she failed to die.
A sob tore itself from her throat as she flung her left arm out, slamming all doors that could be opened with grim finality. She heard the clicking of the electronic locks and she set her mouth into a grim line. This was it, no time for smiling now.
She raised the knife, it glimmered slightly in the dark, as if it had a life of its own, it was her medicine, she didn't care if it was alive or not. It was her saviour. Nothing could compare.
She raised it above her upturned wrist, she tensed her muscles for the sweet agony that was about to befall her. It was absolution, in the form of mind, body and soul.
Down went the knife tip.
I hurt much more,
Than any time before,
I have no options left again
The skin resisted slightly before the sharp metal edge broke through. Raven didn't blink, she didn't feel it, days ago she would have revelled in the burning sensation as it ran up and down her nerve endings and let loose chemicals from the brain, both numbing and exciting at the same time. But now, it felt like more of a chore than anything else.
She stared downwards at the wound she was creating, she felt pathetic, but somehow in her disjointed mind she released that if she ended it she would never have to feel that way again.
She pressed the blade down harder. She could feel her blood trickling down from her wrist into the palm of her hand. It was so warm. It was comforting in an odd sense; all her troubles seemed to flow away.
She would give anything, anything at all, to feel like this all of the time. She sighed and lifted the knife, without the metal there to block the flow, her crimson life spilled up and out, sliding around her arms and splashing onto the table.
She frowned, it didn't look right. When she was alone in her room, it always looked beautiful, but now… it didn't seem as perfect. Maybe there wasn't enough.
She turned the knife over in her hands and fastening her left hand about the handle she breathed in, ready to begin the act of salvation upon her other arm.
I don't want to be the one the battles always choose,
But inside I realise that I'm the one confused,
I don't know what's worth fighting for,
Or why I have to scream,
I don't know why I instigate and say what I don't mean,
I don't know how I got this way,
I know it's not alright,
So I'm breaking the habit, breaking the habit,
Tonight
She slashed through the delicate skin on her right wrist, watched as the blood escaped from her tainted ash grey arm. Red and grey. It would never be as beautiful as red on white, that was how it was supposed to be. But Raven viewed herself as a tainted child, why should she be offered the glory of red and white? No, she should be forced to die surrounded by red and grey. Grey wasa colour that was so unclean, so dirty.
Just like her.
A fresh flood of tears left her eyes, spilling from the corners of her eyelids and catching on her eyelashes.
She raised the knife and brought it down. And again, and again.
She took out all the self hatred and all the self pity that she held inside her soul out on her bruised and scarred arm. But she felt nothing, she just felt empty.
Splashes of scarlet sprayed her face and the table cloth, raining down from the bloodied knife edge as it raised and lowered in sweet succession.
I'll paint it on the walls,
Because I'm the one at fault,
I'll never fight again,
And this is how it ends
Her arm was starting to get tired. It was odd, she felt sleepy. Her eyelids drooped, all energy drained out of her quickly, like water down a drain. Her fingers opened and the knife fell from her grasp and clattered uselessly to the table top.
Her eyes were playing tricks on her, the corners of the room were moving in, the darkness was crowding into her vision, what she could make out in the darkness was blurry.
There was a dull ache in the back of her head, like the type of headache that you could ignore. Her hands were cold and sticky.
She rubbed her fingers together to try and warm up, but to no avail.
So tired…
She rested her head on the table.
So tired…
Her eyes flickered closed.
So tired….
Raven Roth drifted off into darkness.
Robin was in a bad mood, not only had he had to sit through hours of talking between Starfire and Bluefire today, but he had had to suffer with Bluefire's cooking, which was only marginally better than Starfire's.
He felt sick to his stomach.
And that whole 'I am The Dread Macaw I Worship Slade' thing hadn't helped either.
He punched in the access code to the tower and stormed inside, filled with the intent to take his anger out on the punching bag in the gym.
The first thing he noticed was how dark it was. Maybe Raven and Terra had gone out, he was sure that they weren't supposed to be going anywhere tonight. He shrugged.
Deciding that a glass of water would help purge his mouth and throat of the taste of Bluefire's Jelly Bean Omelette he headed towards the kitchen.
He found the door locked.
That was odd; the door to the kitchen was never locked. Sure it had a lock, but no one ever locked it, there was nothing in there worth stealing if a villain ever had the guts to try and rob anything.
He banged on the door with her fist, wondering if maybe Beast Boy had come back early and he and Terra wanted some time alone. The kitchen was a strange place, but then Beast Boy was a strange boy.
As his hand connected with the door, it was blown back on an explosion of black energy. He recognised the glow as Raven's magic. Worry clenched at his stomach. He tried to shake the feeling but couldn't. Maybe Raven just wanted to meditate. But why the kitchen? And why lock the door?
He looked around, for the access panel to the kitchen. His eyes caught sight of something that was where it shouldn't be. Frowning he bent down and picked the book up in his hands. The pages were torn and crinkled.
He turned it over and stared at the title. 'The Book of Spells' well it was obviously Raven's…he flicked it open and began to flip through the pages, his eyes searching the pages quickly. He paused on one of the middle pages, his eyes drawn by Raven's hand writing scrawled in the corner. He read the hand written words and swallowed, 'Must be performed on the full moon, use three candles only, goddess I hope this works my scars are burning already.'
He looked at the title of the spell, 'A Spell To Stop Self Harm.'
He gasped out loud and the book dropped from his hands. That was it, everything made sense now, why she hated anyone touching her arm, why she wouldn't come to the water park, why she seemed tired all of the time. She was hurting herself.
His throat felt tight and dry, like sandpaper. He looked back up at the door.
I don't want to be the one the battles always choose,
But inside I realise that I'm the one confused
Why hadn't he seen it sooner? Raven had to go through so much, it was no wonder she was feeling more depressed lately, no wonder she had been distant and the death of her planet hadn't helped either.
His eyes widened behind his mask, was, was this what Aqualad had seen? Was this why the atlantian was being so protective around her?
He found the control; panel on the wall and hurriedly punched the numbers in, his fingers slipped in their haste and he had to start again, he cursed his stupidity under his breath.
What had happened to Raven? His heart was pounding inside his chest. The consequences of her locking herself in a room alone, in the dark no less, was not good. There were knives in the kitchen. Knives. His hands were starting to tremble, but forcing his body to calm down, he finally got the code in, and with a slight 'whoosh' the door slid open.
I don't know what's worth fighting for,
Or why I have to scream,
I don't know why I instigate and say what I don't mean
Stumbling into the kitchen he fumbled for the light switch, his fingers trembling in anxiousness as he grasped the switch and pushed it upwards.
The scene before him was illuminated in white light.
He stilled in horror at the beautiful gothic girl slumped on the table in a pool of her own blood. He rushed to her side, his hands still shaking he leaned over her and pulled up her eyelid. He recoiled. He found himself gazing into an expanse of nothingness, like staring out over galaxies and solar systems, only without the stars and the suns.
"I've gotta get you to a hospital." He murmured, putting his arm around her and lifting her up.
I don't know how I got this way,
I'll never be alright,
So I'm breaking the habit,
Breaking the habit,
Breaking the habit,
Tonight