Panting, heavy breaths. Snorts. Grunts. And blood dripping from his claws.

"Please… No…"

A roar. A flash of fear in indigo eyes. A grey, naked arm raising to protect a similarly pale face. The feeling of a heavy arm raising high above his head.

"NO!"

Beast Boy bolted upright in his bed and frantically felt his body for any wayward fur. His jaw, his chest, his arms, his nails were all normal, and he muttered a quick prayer of thanks. It was just a dream. Just a dream… where I killed Raven. But just a dream! I'm not going to kill her, he thought in a panic. He swung his legs out of the top bunk and dropped down, knowing he wasn't going to be sleeping anymore for a while, and headed forlornly to the kitchen. Warm soy milk sounded wonderful right then.

He entered the common room, lightly debating to himself which sounded better - soy milk or almond milk - when he saw Raven floating in front of the massive window in front of the couch. She had not put on her cape or usual uniform for her late-night sojourn; instead, she wore simple black plaid pajama shorts and a soft dark grey pajama shirt. Her feet were bare, another anomaly, and Beast Boy couldn't help wondering if he were still asleep. He looked down to make sure he wasn't in his underwear - long flannel pants and a white tank top put that fear to rest - and he silently tried to sneak back out the way he came.

"Beast Boy."

No such luck.

"Uh, heh… h-hey, Raven," he said sheepishly, skirting quickly over to the kitchen, "What brings you here so late at night?"

"I often meditate at this time, at least for a little while," she said, descending from her floating position.

"Cool," was all he could manage as he pointedly tried to avoid her gaze. He knew she was watching him - he could almost feel her eyes on him, the violet eyes that the Beast had destroyed in his dream - but he didn't have the guts to face her, so he continued his soy milk/almond milk debate in front of the open fridge. Finally he settled on soy milk and put it in one of his Pug Mugs before flinging it into the microwave.

"Are you all right?" he heard her soft voice call from behind him, and he glanced in her direction and shrugged.

"Just wanted some milk."

"I felt your dream, Garfield."

At the combination of shock that she called him by his real name and fear that she knew what had woken him, he spun to face her, his eyes wide. She didn't look any different other than the strange clothes. Her face was still passive, her eyes shiny in the filtered light of the stars, but he could almost feel the concern coming off of her.

"Oh," he said, a brilliant scarlet mixing with his green cheeks to make him suddenly appear like Christmas was on his face, "I-I'm really sorry. I mean, I don't want to hurt you, and it's just I'm scared, and I'm sorry, so-"

"Stop. Apologizing," she ordered, and he clamped his lips shut. Of course I say the wrong thing. Now she'll never… like me back. Oh, God, the rose! Did she see the rose?! I have to get it back!

"You have nothing to apologize for, Beast Boy."

Oh. That was not what he was expecting. His ears drooped with relief and the flush in his cheeks lessened so he looked less like Christmas and more like a pink rose bush.

"You have tried your best to be conscientious of me ever since… it happened. I appreciate you trying to respect my boundaries and give me space," Raven said lowly, her eyes never leaving his. "But at the same time… you keep acting as though you have done something wrong. It bothers me. I am proud of you, Beast Boy, for trying hard to be more thoughtful and mature. But I miss my friend."

Beast Boy nearly felt like crying. Partially with joy, she thinks of me as a friend!, and partially with sadness, she thinks of me as a friend… But he didn't, and wouldn't if it killed him. He decided to settle on the former emotion. She considered him her friend, something he knew she took very seriously. And what's more, she missed how he was before the chemicals, before Adonis, before the Beast. He would gladly take that victory.

"Okay. I'll do my best," he said, scratching the back of his head, his milk completely forgotten. Raven nodded.

"That's all I ask," she said as she walked toward him. He suddenly got really nervous and Christmassy again as she closed in on him and he was amazed that he didn't pass out when she kissed his cheek.

"You mean a lot to me too, Garfield. The rose is beautiful," she whispered softly into his ear.

"Not as beautiful as you." Beast Boy didn't know what possessed him to blurt it out, but he was not going to take it back any time soon. He smiled at the bright pink that colored her face as she leaned back a bit and the little explosion of his milk in the microwave that he no longer cared about. Their noses were nearly touching, and he took the opportunity to do the bravest thing he'd ever done in his life of superheroics.

He gently cupped both of Raven's cheeks in his hands and pulled her in for a kiss.

Beast Boy had never kissed a girl before. (Pillow, maybe; girl, never.) But with Raven, it seemed easy. She was warmer than he thought she would be, so when he felt her hands grip his forearms lightly but enough to show him she didn't want to let go, he felt ready to ignite with happiness. She's letting me kiss her aaaaaaaah, his brain cried happily, and he brushed one of his thumbs against her cheek bone.

It was chaste as far as first kisses went, and he didn't want to push it further. Especially when he heard the big bay window/TV give a monstrous crack, but he was proud that he didn't jump at the noise. Instead he broke the kiss and laid his forehead against her chakra for just a moment.

Then, as if suddenly noticing the awkwardness of the situation, he released her as if she were on fire and scurried out of the common room, leaving a speechless, wide-eyed, arms-still-raised Raven behind. His head reappeared a moment later as he poked his head in and said, "If this wasn't a dream, we'll talk about this tomorrow, I promise, okay?"

She nodded mutely, and the changeling's head disappeared out of sight once more. Raven raised a hand to her lips and felt that they were still warm. She let the smallest of smiles out, cracking the bay window even more, before gracefully padding back to her own bed and her own pleasant dreams.

Honesty felt so good, she deduced.