On Snowy Wings chapter 2

By that bastard

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans

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She was a ninja. She was a shadow. A silent breath of wind. An invisible cat stalking the halls of the Tower. She was stealth. She was caution. She was slyness and secrecy and concealment made flesh.

Raven slipped along the dark corridors of the Tower like a whisper. It was early, just after dawn; the edge of the sun was barely past the horizon. Raven drifted silently through the halls wrapped in stillness. She made her way to the common room, mentally congratulating herself at not having woken any of her friends. They must still be out of commission after last night's festivities. Raven herself was more than a little bushed, but it was morning, and she'd be cursed before she adopted Beast Boy's slovenly sleep schedule.

The main hall's doors slid open with a nearly inaudible hiss, and the dark girl surveyed the damage. Presents and shredded wrapping paper, half-eaten food, dirty dishes, decorations, and upended furniture all lay strewn across the floor like a holiday battlefield.

Azar, she thought. It looks like a Christmas tree exploded in here.

Raven spied her friends still in the room, all in various postures of unconsciousness; Starfire upside down on the couch, her head resting on the floor; Beast Boy curled up under the tree as a green dog, a game box in his mouth; Cyborg face down in front of the television, his loud baritone snore cutting through the air like a chainsaw.

But her eyes flitted over all of them, searching for the boy who had kept her up all night, who had deigned to present her with such a wondrous and meaningful—

Aw, crap.

Robin was sitting on the edge of the couch, perched like a bird, reading a newspaper. He turned around slowly, saw Raven, and waved a greeting. He dismounted from his seat without a sound, and tucked the paper under his arm. But he stayed where he was, waiting for Raven to move.

She was standing stock still, frozen like a deer in a pair of headlights. She felt flustered, and inexplicably warm, just from being looked at by him. She briefly considered abandoning her desire for tea, and just turning and walking back to her room. But she couldn't just leave. That would look ridiculous and invite investigation by the boy. Curse his curious nature.

Robin watched her, one side of his mask pitched up in curiosity.

Do something! Raven screamed at herself. Fast! Anything! Don't act like a dumb little schoolgirl! Speak! Speak, damn you, speak!

"Um… hi there," she whispered. Her voice sounded incredibly awkward in her ears.

"Hi," he whispered back. His voice was relaxed, if not a little tired. "I hope we didn't make too much noise last night. We were up pretty late."

"No," Raven said, still frozen to the floor. "I was…" Listening to your mother sing all night. "… out like a light. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, okay." Robin observed her. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Fine. No problem."

"Good."

Raven swore like a sailor in her head. Damn it. Why was she acting like a child? She couldn't connect two coherent thoughts or stand still. She was fidgeting, she felt hot and angry. What was wrong with her?

It was him. It had to be him. She felt like everything had changed between them now. She felt like she was seeing him for the first time. Like he had exposed some deep, dark part of himself and it completely changed her perception of the boy forever. Robin was private. Robin was secretive. Robin never spoke of his past. It was a cemented fact in her mind, akin to mathematics or biology. It was irrefutable.

But he had broken that private law, and Raven did not know how to return to yesterday, when they both kept others at arm's length. When they only allowed the surface to show under scrutiny. When they were comfortable.

This newfound awkwardness, this embarrassment, this unholy interpersonal terror… it was all his fault. Just look at him. Standing there. Who was up reading the paper at the crack of dawn? And for such a renowned detective, why couldn't he figure out how uncomfortable she was? And the cause, for that matter. Granted, he was clueless around girls, but for the love of Azar—

"Are you sure you're okay?" Robin asked, trying not to grin. "You've just been standing there."

"I'm fine," she bit out, and forced her legs to carry her to the kitchen. Without any feeling in her hands she produced her tea kettle and a cup. She turned the burner on and waited. She kept her back to Robin.

She started cursing again when she felt him begin walking towards her.

"How much water are you boiling?" he asked.

"Just a cupful."

"Could you make it two? I'm dying for a coffee."

"Those things will stunt your growth," she said without thinking. She cringed. She just wanted him to leave her alone.

"I've made peace with the fact that I'll never be as tall as Cyborg," Robin said evenly. "And having longer limbs would force me to relearn all my techniques. Staying the same size has its advantages. At least for now."

He busied himself in the cabinets, pulling out a tea bag and coffee grounds. Raven snatched the bag away from him, mumbling her thanks.

"Besides," Robin said with an easy grin, "how many evil villains really take me seriously when we first meet? They aren't expecting a skilled fighter. Looking like this does have its advantages."

"Glad you're so pragmatic about it." Raven deposited the bag of tea in her cup, nervously strumming her fingers on the rim. She desperately needed something, anything to distract herself. "Say, um… I never did see what the others got you. Get a good haul?"

"I suppose."

He ran a hand through his thick hair. It was slightly out of order, more so than usual. Raven glanced at him, finding she liked how it looked first thing in the morning.

"Cyborg picked up an import album I was angling for," Robin said. "Beast Boy decided I didn't have enough trauma in my life, and gave me the sequel to Wicked Scary. He made me promise we'd all watch it later."

"Goodie."

"Exactly." He smiled. "And Starfire got me an umbrella and a package of tube socks. I'm still figuring that one out." He glanced at her. "How about you? Have a merry Christmas?"

The best I've ever had.

"It was okay."

"Glad to hear it," Robin said. He was still smiling.

The two teens fell into an awkward silence. At least, it was awkward for Raven. Water never seemed to take so long to boil. She considered just using tap water and letting her tea steep in that. Putrid, probably, but safer than this.

But she couldn't stay silent forever. Not about the CD. Such a present, such a vulnerability demanded acknowledgement. At the very least some sort of eternal thanks was required. But Raven had nearly no experience with gifts of this scale. Sure, the book was nice, and she had received some really nice mugs in the past, but this…

She shook her head. She was making too big a deal out of this. She glanced up at Robin. He was leaning against the counter in a relaxed posture, idly thumbing through the paper with one hand as he waited for the water to heat. He looked completely calm and cool like usual, just a bit tired. He yawned, covered his mouth with the back of his free hand, shook his head slightly, then went back to reading.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he see what his thoughtless actions had done to her? She was on pins and needles, nervous, hot, sweaty, bothered and angry. What had he done to her?

But if she didn't get it out in the open she'd be tormented by it forever. And lord knew she had enough private torture without this.

Raven opened her mouth, the words climbing out of her throat so fast they collided together into an impassable blockade. She gaped for a long moment, then turned away in shame.

Damn it.

She could move mountains with her will, she could traverse the galaxy, she could save the world from demons, villains and monsters, but when an unexpected act of kindness reared its head she was left powerless. At the mercy of wild imagination and weak emotion. But alone with it inside her head, it had to be worse than any actual reality that came from speaking about it. It had to be.

Raven's logic finally turned her around to face him, and her mask broke at last. She stared in anxiety at the boy, the young man, the leader, the friend, and felt her entire mouth turn to molasses.

"I… about the… the CD… I just… I wanted to say…"

Raven felt her face heat up. How could she possibly hope to match with words the importance of his gift? It defied her rational mind, and refused to be contained in any form. She wanted to say how amazing it made her feel, how warm and gentle and soft and safe. Like she was flying above the storm clouds of her life, if only for a moment. She wanted to hug him again, smile for him, laugh, sing, be happy and light and free.

She wanted him to say something so she wouldn't appear like a total mental case, stuttering and blushing in front of him like a brain-dead nut job. She wanted him to shrug it off, give her a cocky grin, and say it was no big deal.

But he just stood there, within spitting distance in the small kitchen in front of the stove, his face calm and unreadable. A blank slate.

She ducked her head, regretting ever coming out of her room any time before the next apocalypse. Tea wasn't worth this crushing humiliation. Nothing was. She should just barricade herself in her room for the remainder of her natural life, forgoing crime fighting, food, interaction with others and what most would define as "living." Anything to avoid this.

If there was one thing Raven despised, it was not being in control of her own emotions. She prided herself on keeping a calm, apathetic face to the world, no matter the situation. Only extreme and dire straights could force an unwarranted reaction.

But here was Robin, someone she thought she knew fairly well, picking and pulling apart her carefully crafted world weariness, leaving gaping holes for idiotic things like embarrassment and nervousness and apprehension to ooze through. The years of intense training to keep her mind under tight reins, the long hours of meditation to find a sense of equilibrium, the forced isolation, all worthless. Thanks, bird boy. He just had to give her a really heartfelt gift, didn't he? Jerk.

"Raven."

She slowly lifted her head back to face him. He was smiling at her, softly, gently.

"I meant what I said," Robin whispered.

Despite the intense heat his words gave her, she really could get used to being told that on a daily basis. Raven felt her insides flip and pivot in the air. Her stomach danced on the ceiling, while something else, possibly her liver, pirouetted on the stove. She stared dumbly at him, in wonder.

She was left speechless. She wanted to say something clever, or sarcastic, anything to dispel the gentle seriousness of the conversation. But her sharp tongue abandoned her. She was left utterly defenseless, feeling light and giddy. Warm, safe. Loved. She felt a damned goofy grin creeping on the edges of her lips. And she felt no need to restrain it. Not in front of him. Not now.

Because he meant it.

"Friends?" a soft voice asked.

They both turned quickly. Not that they had anything to be ashamed of.

It was a very awake Starfire. She was standing outside the kitchen island, clutching her hands over her chest. Her voice sounded infinitely timid and scared. Like she was interrupting a religious ceremony.

"Hey, Star," Robin said. He stepped away from Raven.

The dark girl stumbled backwards, crashing into the counter. Her hands gripped the edge behind her back, nails digging into the tile. She glanced up at Robin, and he caught her eyes. He smiled at her softly, secretly.

The tea kettle exploded up towards the ceiling in a black bubble. Robin deftly caught it as it came crashing down again without conscious thought. But being filled with near boiling water, the heat in his palm caused him to drop it, and it scraped along the side of his bare arm on the way to the floor.

"Ah!" he gasped, as the kettle clanged near his feet. He clutched his arm. "Hot. Very hot. Ow."

"Robin!" Starfire cried, flying next to him. She tenderly cradled his hand in hers. "Do you require the medical attention? Should I awaken Cyborg and prepare the room of emergencies?"

"No, no. I'm fine, really. Just a little burn." He slowly flexed his arm. "Okay. A large burn."

"Friend Raven! Please assist Robin!"

"Um… cold water is really best for a burn," the dark girl muttered, turning on the faucet. Raven didn't trust herself to use her healing powers at the moment. She didn't want to accidentally lop the boy's limb off because of her flustered state.

Robin nodded to her wisdom, and began peeling off his glove. Raven could already see small bubbling welts on the skin, turning pale and hard. Starfire flitted behind him, peeking over his shoulders to see the seriousness of the wound.

At length he extracted his whole right hand from the glove, and placed his arm under the flow of cold water. Raven was impressed: he didn't wince or bat a mask covered eyelash. Like he had long ago learned to live with pain as nothing more than the merest of inconveniences. Not for the first time, she wondered what his childhood was really like.

The burn was indeed large. He had caught the kettle's edge on his forearm, and the injury stretched in a thick line from the crook of his elbow to a shear cut off point a third of the way down his arm. But it wasn't the wound that caught Raven's attention.

It was his fingers. They were long and slender. They looked like musician's hands. Artist's hands. True, there were scars and bruises on them, and the knuckles were slightly irregular from breaks, but it was what she expected. Their tapered, graceful quality was wholly unexpected. She found herself openly staring at them, fascinated by their nearly feminine elegance.

"Don't worry," Robin said, misinterpreting her lingering gaze, "it isn't as bad as it looks."

"Huh? Oh, oh, uh, good." Raven slung her hood up over her eyes. She didn't want him to see her blushing like a damn schoolgirl. The witch glanced over at Starfire, who had fallen rather quiet.

The alien was staring at Robin's ungloved hand, too, and her face was lit by a bright blush. It looked almost as though she was seeing something deemed indecent or forbidden. She appeared to be conflicted over whether or not to keep her eyes on the hand, but she couldn't tear herself away from it. Granted, Raven couldn't recall a time when he wasn't wearing those green gloves, but she knew it shouldn't be any big deal.

She glanced back to Robin's hand.

"Better get some ice on this," he said, pulling his bare arm from the faucet. As he was fishing in the freezer for a few cubes, he looked at the two girls, who were still staring. "Um… you two okay?"

Starfire nodded mutely, eyes locked.

"Gotta go," Raven muttered quickly, and left.

"See you later," Robin called after her. She didn't turn around.

Starfire watched the boy as his sight lingered on the shut door. She bit her lower lip.

"We… we are all still… friends, correct?" the alien asked nervously.

"What? Of course we are, Star. What are you talking about?"

"O-oh, nothing. Nothing at all." She gave him her brightest smile, the one she reserved for his eyes alone, and floated off the floor. "Is your arm sufficiently chilled?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it." Robin carefully picked up the tea kettle from the floor, and placed it on the stove. "Huh. Raven forgot her tea." His eyes found the door again.

Starfire bit her lip.

"Friend," she said. "In honor of our most enjoyable night of festiveness, I shall prepare a traditional Tamaranian banquet of polorac binchgormers and hindleflarap juice!"

"Ah, Star? It's pretty early, and the guys are still asleep." As if on cue, Cyborg snored loudly. "Besides," Robin said, "maybe we should stick to something less… complicated for breakfast. Nobody really wants to cook a big meal on the day after a holiday."

"But I insist! On my world it is customary to gorge ourselves after a successful battle, and truly, last night felt like such a rousing victory. The songs, the jubilation, the frenzied destruction of paper-clad boxes… may I please culture the spores for the feast now?"

"Well…" Robin hung his head in defeat. "Okay. If you really insist."

"I do!" Starfire beamed happily. "I shall return in much haste!"

The alien flew from the room, intent on the preparation of filling Robin's stomach. On her home world there were two chief ways to connect with others. Through battle, and through food. The more exotic and substantial, the better. And seeing as there hadn't been any earth shattering combat lately, she eagerly opted for the second choice.

And while her speech about her home customs regarding the feast were a little exaggerated, she justified it with the ideal of pleasing Robin. And seeing Raven and he smiling at each other, alone, together, made the desire that much stronger.

It wasn't jealousy. At least Starfire didn't think so. It was just that whenever he attended her, Robin was so patient and caring and nice. It was the side of him that originally made her stay on this world. But when his attentions were diverted elsewhere, he could get moody, and serious, and a little scary.

She knew he had a dark side, but she didn't want to encourage it. To her, Robin was a hero, a teacher, a hopeful pinnacle of human effort and skill. She wanted him to be always smiling, or imparting knowledge, or shining in battle. She wanted him to remain the Robin she cherished in her heart. And if he became entangled with another girl, he would become… somehow lower than he was now. He would be shown to be full of wants and needs and desires and failings. Like a normal human. Not the pinnacle she saw him as.

And if it was Raven he gave himself to, Starfire could not see an end to the darkness in Robin's heart.

The alien chastised herself. Thinking so poorly about her friends would not do. It was unseemly. Indecent. It was wrong of her.

Besides… the thought of friends Raven and Robin as anything other than polite acquaintances was laughable. Giggle inducing. True, after the defeat of Trigon the two had been fairly close, but their reclusive personalities had ended the connection as quickly as it appeared. Unless someone was holding their hand, bringing them into the light, they would forever stay in the shadows of their pasts. And Starfire knew she was the one to hold Robin's hand. Who else was there?

As the alien was flying towards her room, and the dank closet that housed most of her culinary ingredients, she spied the dark form of Raven. She was leaning against the wall by her door, staring at an indefinable spot on the floor by her feet. Her face was obscured by her hood, hanging low. Her hands were clasped over her heart, as if checking her pulse after a bad scare.

"He meant it," the dark girl whispered.

Without looking up the sorceress was enveloped in a thick blanket of darkness, and phased backwards through her door into her room. The hallway was left in silence. But after a moment, Starfire thought she heard a song trailing on the air. It was too soft to identify.

The alien floated up to Raven's door, her hand poised to knock. Her fingers were curled into a ball, almost painfully tight. She could still hear the song.

At length she floated away, and silently drifted to her room. Suddenly the cultivation of her feast seemed small and pointless. The image of Robin and Raven alone in the kitchen smiling at each other rushed to meet her, unbidden.

Starfire shook her head. Certainly she was making too much out of this, right? The two of them had smiled at each other before. Many times. What made this one instance so different.

Earthling emotions were still a source of confusion for the alien. Many times a situation called for a display of a certain feeling, and she would miss it completely. It was mildly frustrating. Over the years she had become rather adept at watching others, and the emotions they exhibited. Even if it still puzzled her, she could usually stumble her way through by imitation.

And in the kitchen, the way they were looking at each other… it scared her. It had been a very private moment, very deep. Starfire honestly had little experience with the level she witnessed today. She suddenly wondered if she had ever experienced that depth before. Because seeing how happy her friends looked, Starfire discovered she wanted to be the one to receive such a moment. Not that she resented them for it or anything, but still…

"I want friend Robin to be happy. To always be happy. To always be smiling. And I want friend Raven to be happy as well. Just…"

Not together.

Starfire hunched her shoulders in shame. She hugged herself, and silently drifted down the hall to her room. The bright pink paint covering the walls seemed duller today.

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It was well into the morning when Cyborg and Beast Boy awoke, and when Starfire's breakfast was sufficiently matured in the cultivation tanks. Her meal gave the kitchen a unique odor; almost like burnt eggs and paint thinner. It was far from what the others expected in a holiday meal, but it was exactly what they expected from Starfire. That is to say, they were anticipating another banquet of choking, passing out, and frenzied races to the restrooms.

Of course after so many years with the alien, their stomachs had evolved into near impenetrable casks of steel, but Starfire was progressively aggressive in her cooking: as soon as one recipe no longer adversely affected her friends, it seemed she would create something new and wholly terrifying. Not on purpose or out of spite, it was just a terrible, terrible coincidence.

"Please to enjoy!" the alien cheered, setting out the bowls for her friends. An unidentifiable orange gel stared back at them. Small thin stalks of an unknown brown substance poked out of the mass like hair. A viscous gray membrane covered it like a shroud. It shook slightly, even when left alone. Beast Boy gulped audibly.

"I'm glad I have tofu," the green boy murmured to himself. His eyes caught Raven, who was spreading her meal around in the bowl, trying to give the illusion there was less than there was. "Hey... you're looking awful… glowy today."

"What?" she answered sharply.

"No, I mean… maybe it's the post holiday haze or something. You just seem… I don't know, lighter than usual."

"What are you talking about?" the witch grumbled. She tried to sound as apathetic as possible, to allay any suspicion.

"Naw, naw, I see it too," Cyborg said, leaning over the table. "You look like BB after he manages to eek out a victory against me in a video game." He peered closely at her. "You do look… glowy. Wonder why. A new cleanser? Secret trips to a tanning booth? Special diet?"

"Well, I think it's obvious," Beast Boy scoffed.

Raven tensed.

"It's obviously caused by my incredible gift to her of the world's funniest joke book. It's about time she read something that wasn't gloomy or dark." The green boy turned to the sorceress. "Did you get to the chapter about meat eaters yet? And the joke about nuns and ground beef? It'll make even you laugh. I promise."

"Somehow I don't see that happening," Cyborg said. He smiled at Raven. "So really, what's up? And don't say nothing, cause I ain't buying what you're selling."

The sorceress resisted the urge to growl. Couldn't she eat her bowel-rending meal in peace?

"Leave her be," Robin said, poking the gelatinous mass on his plate. "Can't Raven be in a good mood without getting the third degree?"

"Aw, Robin never lets us have any fun," Beast Boy pouted. He turned back to his tofu.

Cyborg chuckled before turning his internal sensors to the task of identifying what exactly was on the plate before him.

"Friend?" Starfire said, turning to Robin. "How is your stomach enjoying our festive meal?"

"Oh, it's… it's definitely doing something."

"I am pleased. On my home world, if your stomach is coiled and growling like a smatnrog, the meal has accomplished its job." She ate a large spoonful, and smiled contentedly as her stomach rumbled back at her. "Most pleasing!"

"Yeah," Robin said. "My thoughts exactly." He brought his spoon to his mouth, and his face immediately drained of color.

"Do you not love it?" Starfire said, leaning towards him in anticipation of his answer.

"… love doesn't begin to describe my feelings about it," he choked out. "You always amaze me in the kitchen, Star."

The alien squealed in joy, then dove back into her meal.

Cyborg, still in the process of analyzing the makeup of the dish, blinked in confusion and looked up. Movement at the peripheral edge of his vision, fast, quick, short movement, kept distracting him. At first he thought it was merely Beast Boy mock gagging as he sniffed Starfire's food, but the moves were too frequent. He carefully directed his sight at the table, but glanced out of the corner of his eye to catch it again.

He was surprised to find it was Raven, sneaking quick peeks across the table to Robin and Starfire. Her face remained down, seemingly focused on her meal, but her eyes would dart up, then dart back down. Cyborg raised an eyebrow.

The cybernetic teen directed his eyes to Robin and Starfire. What was so interesting? The alien was splitting her time between filling her stomach with questionable substances, and carefully attending the Boy Wonder. Normal behavior for the orange girl. And it was par for the course with Robin, too. The boy was fearlessly attacking his meal with single-minded fervor. He was dedicated to making it disappear. It probably had something to do with Starfire hovering over his shoulder, but then again he was always careful to at least taste anything the alien spawned in the kitchen.

So what was so interesting?

Cyborg found himself glancing at Robin and Starfire too, trying to figure out the mystery. And while he might not have Robin's keen detective mind, he felt science and careful observation would solve nearly any puzzle.

And speaking of puzzles, the cybernetic teen tried to figure out exactly why his leader was subjecting his innards to such punishment. He was still shoveling his "food" away with nothing short of miraculous dedication.

Robin took a quick breath to steel himself, then deposited the rest of the meal inside his mouth. Beast Boy, Cyborg and Raven all leaned towards him in awe. Their leader made a concentrated effort, then tilted his head back and swallowed. Beast Boy started biting his fingernails.

Finally Robin blew out a long breath and sat back. He looked incredibly exhausted. The others relaxed too, astonished at the boy's will.

"Seconds?" Starfire asked him brightly. She ignored the horrified gasps around the table.

"… sure," Robin sighed.

The alien smiled in joyful triumph, then flew off to the stove. The other Titans all wore faces of varying degrees of shock and admiration. Beast Boy fainted.

"You're a braver man than me," Cyborg told his leader.

"Only about some things." Robin leaned towards them conspiratorially. "Besides, if I eat it now, there'll be fewer leftovers. I'd rather not spend the new year with intestinal trauma."

"New Year's?" Beast Boy chirped, sitting up. "Dude, we totally have to have a big party!"

"But we just had one…" Robin started to say. He was already dreading the preparations he'd no doubt be saddled with.

"Dude, its New Year's! It would be a crime not to have one. Aw, we gotta get noise makers, and punch, and champagne, and movies, and—"

"Streamers, and popcorn, and waffle batter," Cyborg broke in, getting excited. "And hams, and bacon, and chili—"

"Dude. We're having a New Year's Eve party. Not a murder smorgasbord. No meat."

"What? Are you mad, boy? We always had meat at my house, and—"

"This isn't your house. It's our house. And we have a democracy in here. Meaning we all get to vote on what we have. And I for one vote against the willful killing of innocent creatures."

"But… they're delicious! They shouldn't be so delicious if they didn't want to be eaten. It's their own fault."

"What did you say? What did you just say to me? You did not just say that to me. Dude, that is so not cool. How would you like it if I went around smashing anything electronic I saw? Or if I bought and raised toasters just to devour their sparky insides?"

"Watch yourself now. Thems fightin' words."

"Well at least I don't—"

"Enough!" Robin yelled. He sighed in exhaustion. "Fine. We'll have another party. With meat…"

Cyborg grinned in victory.

"… and tofu."

Beast Boy crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out at the cybernetic teen.

"We'll let everyone decide what they'll eat by themselves. One or the other. Okay? Everybody satisfied?"

"Not totally but it's a start," Beast Boy said. "I shall not rest until this Tower is purged of all slaughtered animals!"

"Over my dead motherboard," Cyborg growled.

Robin just hung his head.

Cyborg looked askance at Raven. Usually she would have said something by now, about how pointless or childish their party plans were. Heck, she should have at least given them a roll of her eyes or a snide comment. But she was silent. Not her usual brooding; this quiet was more akin to preoccupation or anxiety. Cyborg knew she always had a lot on her mind, but to totally ignore their immature antics meant something was up.

Starfire broke his introspection as she flew back to the table, carrying another large bowl of whatever it was Robin had just choked down. He tried to stop the nervous shaking in his hands by gripping his fork and spoon.

It was the last thing Raven saw before she stood to leave.

"Excuse me," she muttered, ignoring their puzzled looks, and exited the main hall.

Cyborg watched her go, a worried frown on his face. He quietly excused himself and stood. He left the common room, Beast Boy still planning the would-be bash, and Robin going into intestinal arrest as Starfire watched with pride.

Cyborg caught up with Raven as she headed for her room.

"Everything okay?" he called out after her. She slowly turned to face him.

"Peachy," she replied.

"That bad? Anything you want to talk about?"

"… just tired, thanks." Raven turned back to her door. "I need to meditate. The, uh, holiday took a lot out of me."

"Oh." Cyborg peered at her. "You know if you do need to talk, I'm always here. You know that, right?"

"Duly noted." She opened her door, but paused under on the threshold. "Cyborg… could I ask you a personal question?"

"Shoot."

"… what do you remember about your mother?"

Cyborg's immediate gut reaction was to be angry, tell her it was none of her damn business. But this was Raven. If she was asking about something this serious, it wasn't to offend or irritate. She always had a reason for everything she did.

"What I remember?" he said, exhaling loudly. "You might not believe it, but she was really short. Hand to God she had to be five foot nothing. To me she was always in the lab, creating or building. And that's pretty much where the happy memories end.

"But she is, in a way, the reason I'm who I am today. I blamed her and my dad for the longest time, but I don't know. If that was what it took to be where I am, I can deal with it. It's taken me a long time, but… why did you want to know?"

"Your mother…" Raven glanced away anxiously. "She loved you, right?"

"… yeah. In her own way, yeah, she did. And I can finally say I love her, too." Cyborg laughed without humor. "Kinda pathetic. I can only say it after…" He swallowed the rest. "Come on, really. What's up with you?"

"I… don't have a lot of experience with love," the sorceress stated. "I guess this time of year just reminds me of it. But thank you. For telling me. And it isn't idle curiosity. I wouldn't ask for something that trivial. But… I can't tell you why, not yet. There's something I need to figure out on my own."

"Does it have anything to do with Robin?"

Raven's eyes shot up to him.

"Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Well… you were looking at him and making eyes… not that I'm implying anything, just… it was a bit suspicious." Cyborg grinned. "You know, you could do a lot worse than Robin," he said.

"It isn't like that," Raven grumbled. "I just… I need to figure some things out, okay? Your help was appreciated."

She started walking towards her room at a rapid gait.

"I've never been in love," Cyborg called after her. He waited until she stopped. "I mean, not real love. I've had plenty of crushes, but true love… I don't think it's something you can rationalize or confine with logic alone. You have to feel it. It's just something you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt. That's all the help I can give you."

He turned and began the trek back to the common room.

"Of course," he said over his shoulder with a grin, "I hear Robin's pretty good at solving puzzles. Give him a holler if you're stuck. He might be a bit dense, but he gives any problem his all."

Cyborg walked back to the main hall with a bounce in his step.

"That was a mistake," Raven sighed, rubbing her temples.

She opened her door and collapsed in exhaustion on her bed. Her investigation into the differences between platonic and romantic love had failed. Miserably. But she didn't have the luxury of experience, or knowledgeable friends. All she had was herself. Which meant a severe deficit of insight. Raven had a staggering intellect, but it was all from second hand accounts like books. She had no practical applications. And she wasn't about to lay her current troubles on the table like an exotic plant to be gaped at by her friends.

All she had was herself.

And Robin's declaration.

But she had been on her own for most of her life's rough spots. Yeah, and those all turned out so well. Raven didn't want to rely on anyone else for this problem. She'd been using her friends like a crutch for some time, and she wanted to prove, even if it was only to herself, that she was capable of fixing things in her own life without help.

Selfish, maybe, but Raven never claimed to be otherwise. But despite that desire for independence, she found a part of her didn't want to be alone in this. That she wanted to rely on her friends, at least a little.

But her lifestyle, the image she'd cultivated for so many years of being aloof and above petty emotional troubles came rushing up to stop anything outside total isolation in this matter. Raven found she really was alone in this, more so than ever before. This was about matters of the heart, something Beast Boy openly debated she had. She couldn't rely on anyone but herself.

Besides… she wanted to keep Robin's words all to herself, if only for a little longer. She wanted to feel special, wrapped in the emotions he gave her, for as long as possible.

Alone, sitting on her bed in the dark, the faint whisperings of good times drifting from the kitchen, Raven shut her eyes and allowed herself to feel loved.

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To be continued

Author notes: I pulled most of the stuff on Cyborg's mother from his comic book origin. The rest was straight from my arse. If I got it wrong, I won't care.