"Raven… isn't talking to me…"

"No… really? I actually haven't noticed that at all."

"Thank you Cyborg. Your sarcasm is extremely helpful."

Robin paced around the couch, his hands twisted behind his back. Eyes, focused on the ground, blinked, fluttered, trying to think of some way to get her to understand. But the only way for that to happen was for him to break down her walls (and the literal was possible), tell her to her face, and make her understand. But he was respectful of both her privacy and her ability to kill on contact. So he went for the plan that was doomed to fail: waiting for the storm to pass.

"She's been going to that club every night for, like, three days. She cares about you. If she didn't, she wouldn't be doing this. Just talk to her."

"And if she doesn't forgive me?"

"What's there to forgive? You were making sure she didn't have any regrets. You were being… noble? Is noble the right word for that? I mean you must have been tempted so it couldn't have been all that noble."

"You aren't helping," Robin stated plainly, his hands running through his hair out of habit.

Cyborg shrugged and returned to his video game.

Robin needed air. Robin needed to breathe. So the roof was a risk he was willing to take.

But he should have remembered how much he hated being wrong. Because as soon as he opened the door she was running for it, trying to push past him, trying to pretend that he was spectral and non-existent. He was too real for her to deal with. As was her rejection.

It was fuzzy, but she remembered it. How hurt she felt, how much she wanted him and the snow, and how that endless pouring rain pummeled the tower and any hope she had left. And his face reminded her of that night.

"Why haven't you been talking to me," he asked quietly, blocking her exit.

But she just kept pushing.

"You've been avoiding me, avoiding everyone. You missed an alert while you were out dancing. You're lucky it was only Kitten. I'm glad that the experiment works and you can express and whatnot, but you can't just abandon your duties."

She was unrelenting, for she wanted what was left of her heart to stay whole.

"Rae, don't go. Just… stay here… you don't even have to talk to me. I don't like fighting with you Rae."

"I'm meeting friends."

He sighed.

"Why are you mad at me?"

But she didn't answer, because she gave one final push and was out of sight.

So Robin gave up on fresh air, for her escape had taken away any hope of… well, hope. With melancholy feet and a heart that felt like lead, he dragged himself into his room with what little energy he had left. Suddenly, the task of making her understand seemed harder than fighting of twelve Trigons.

Robin looked around his room as if it had all the answers. He used to come to his room to think, to clear his head and fill it again with mysteries and puzzles, the things that kept him alive. But as he grew more and more fatigued with his 'quest', the room lost it's life as well. Now it was only what it was. A room. Not a dojo, not a crime lab, not even a workspace. Just where he came to sleep, read, and ponder the trivial. As if he was just a teenager and it was just a room.

So he fell onto his bed and pretended that every thing was okay.

Even though it wasn't.

He tried to sleep, because that's the only thing that seemed as if it would help. But it never came, and he found himself tossing and turning, even though the sky was dark and the blankets were warm.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. Everything about her was memorable. Her scent, how soft her skin was, the texture of her hair, her wit… she was so impressive and intelligent and Robin had no idea what to do with himself.

He sat and listened to the footsteps in front of the door and called a 'come in.'

"Are you Ok?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it," Beastboy offered, changing into a rabbit. "I'm all ears."

"I don't even know what to do. At all… and it's driving me mad," the masked boy divulged, hoping (however unlikely it was) that his comrade could impart on him the pearl of wisdom that he so desperately yearned for.

"I need to know one thing. And I need you to say it out loud. Are you in love with Raven?"

"Yes," he said automatically.

He blinked, surprised at his leader's sureness, when less than one week prior he had to be bullied into a confession that was cut short.

"Um… seriously?" Beastboy questioned incredulously, unsure if he was telling the truth. "'Cause you seemed a little… conflicted… last time I asked you…"

He nodded confidently, not a single whiff of deceit or betrayal detectable. The shape shifter sat, satiated and somewhat complacent.

"Okay then. Doctor Gar is open for business."

Robin relaxed into his chair, glad to have someone who was trying to help him.

"I'm really worried about her," she confessed. "She's been going out to that club everynight and-"

"You do know why she's doing that, right?"

He shook his head.

"You're some freaky boy detective, I'm just some super-powered vegan, and I'm the one who's the genius? Hold on, I need to take this moment in. ………Okay. So! My theory, which does not involve any armies or conspiracies, is that she is trying to replace the feeling you could have given her with adrenaline."

"So you're saying that she's trying… to make me jealous… of… dancing. So she's going to try and hook up w-"

"Will you stop trying to solve things? I'm giving you my idea straight and simple, no trickety-trick, no nonsense, nothing to over-analyze! I'm saying exactly what I'm saying. That Raven is trying to replace what you made her feel with a different feeling. Since she found a loophole in her powers, she's going somewhere where feeling doesn't hurt."

"But… she said she was going to hang out with friends…" Robin said meekly.

"Since when does Raven have friends?"

". . ."

He was slowly realizing the truths of the matter: her hurt her, whether his actions were valiant or not.

He shook his head, which rested in his hands, and groaned with distress and fear. Fear of losing her, fear of his own nature, his blindness to others thoughts, fear of the parallel of his reality: a world where he was alone and she wasn't his, a world that seemed to be coming closer with every passing breath.

"Woah man, chill out. It's fixable. Just… kiss her."

But Robin said no. He was too much of a romantic… he would wait for her to return, corner her, and sweep her off her feet.

Beastboy stared at him, annoyed, worried, and fed up with his friend.

"You're planning aren't you," he growled, resisting the urge to transform and claw at him, howling.

"Well it isn't as if I'm j-"

"Will you listen to yourself?! You act as if she's a game to you! Has it for a second crossed your mind what's best for her? While you stall and prey and strategize, she's losing hope. While you're off playing Prince Charming, you're hurting her!"

"Why do you even care?!"

"Because she's the closest thing I have to my sister and the person holding the team together," he raged. His fists balled and clenched, the skin trying to sedate his claws. "Because I care about her as a person… not a prize."

Robin, desperate to fight back, halted. Beastboy was right. And the guilt came crashing down.

Who was he to toy with battle plans and tactics, treating the whole situation as if he was working on a case?

He, suddenly realizing that he was standing, fell onto his bed and, with eyes unmoving, focused on his ceiling, wondering how he was ever going to win the heart of the girl he loved, when he didn't even know how to treat her as a girl.

"I'm going to find her. I'm going to tell her," he decided, pulling on his jacket and snatching his keys from the bedside table. He was out in a flash, running towards the garage. The green miscreant had to turn feline in order to catch up.

"Dude! Wait! I'm coming with."

"No, you're not. Sorry, but I kind of want to be alone with the her while I pour my heart out."

"Oh… right. Just don't forget… if you have to chase her… do it because of what you feel for her, not for the fun of the chase."

Robin consented and mounted the motorcycle, his hands itching to wring the throttle, thirsting for rev.

"Good luck."

"I'm gonna need a lot more than luck, but… thanks. If I don't come back with her… kick me."

Beastboy nodded, perfectly happy with his leader's orders, coughing with the exhaust of the engine.

-

-

-

The night was really dark. The kind of night that swallows you whole and frightens you. No clouds, but no stars, just a smoggy horizon and a strangely empty highway.

But he couldn't afford to notice it or let it scare him. It was just a sky, just the way that hornets are just insects. If you ignore them, they wont bother you, just beg for attention. So he rode into the enveloping darkness, his mind clear and focused on the mission ahead.

It took him too long for his liking, for his luck with traffic came to a halt. So he zipped carefully between cars, swerving in and out of lanes. But he was soon perched outside of Drop, and he could smell the sweat already.

So he pulled at the icy handle, opening the door and stepping inside.

She wasn't hard to find. Her skin almost glowed under the lights, her skin turning blue then green, yellow, red, and again, blue. He stopped dead, slumping into a seat. She was incredible, passionate and mesmerizing, completely absorbed in the music.

She was smiling. Faintly and to herself only, but she was nonetheless. He knew his task, and he knew that he had to be either very quick or very stealthty.

But for the moment, he wanted only to watch her dance. Because she looked unusually peaceful and happy. And he was going to ruin it for her.

Nonetheless, she was a Teen Titan, so the loss of happiness was something she was used to.

About to stand, Robin slid his seat in, tucking it away, hidden under the table. Only to see Raven coming towards him, her sweaty forehead shimmering with the lights. He ducked behind the table.

"I'm surprised to see that you still come here."

The hero let out a breath, relieved that she wasn't walking towards him… and began to wonder why he was hiding. As he began to rise, he realized that it was a definite male voice that was talking to her, making him pause.

"I've been here for the past four days. You shouldn't be."

"I was expecting Robin to stop you."

"It isn't his place to do so."

"You seem tenser than usual."

She sighed, shifting a little. Robin tried to ignore the sight of her bare legs.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "things have been strange. I used to be able to talk to him. It was almost as if… he was my best friend. Then, I got this cut from Angel, he taped it up, things changed."

"Forget about him. Let me buy you a drink," the man offered, grabbing her hand.

"No," she refused, shaking off his hand.

"C'mon. I mean, I'm not some sleaze. We've already hooked up-"

"The only reason I kissed you was because I owed you. You saved me from that guy on the first night, I saved you from the tramp."

"It's just a drink!"

"And I'm just a titan," she retorted, disbelieving and annoyed. She huffed, closed her eyes, and brushed a misplaced tress behind her ear.

Raven glanced at the moon, hoping, that maybe if she just wished enough, her "friend" would just shut up and fade away. But when she opened her eyes, he was still sitting on that damn barstool in that damn club just staring at her, whittling away at her patience.

Chivalry seemed positively extinct.

"If I get an alert and I'm drunk, I would set back my team, be unable to protect the city, and possibly endanger it. If you are that desperate, go look for blondie. I'm not interested."

"You know I didn't mean it like that. You're my friend, Raven."

"I may be your friend, but you aren't mine. I've known your for half a week. You are not. My. Friend."

"Jesus, chill out. Don't get angry with me. I just wanted you to have a good time."

She ordered herself a seltzer and drummed her fingers on the table, impatient, brooding, and very uncomfortable.

"What do you think we are," she asked bluntly, condescending and sharp, as if she was dealing with an idiot.

He shrugged, staring at his beer. "We have fun. We dance, party… whatever. It isn't something serious, but… I like spending time with you. I mean, you're funny, smart, you're fucking hot… yeah. Whatever. I guess… I dunno, I mean, I would like to take you on a date…"

"Fuck, Travis!"

"What?!"

"You're so retarded…" she groaned softly, gazing at her half empty glass. "I thought you knew what I wanted."

Robin shifted, trying to move discreetly, keeping his ears open.

". . ."

". . ."

"How could I know what you want Rae? All we do is dance. If we talk, I'm drunk. Or we talk while dancing."

"That's what I want! No ties. I don't want to be your friend. I don't want to know you, or your favorite things, or anything directly related to you. I want nothing. Just partying. That's all. …And I told you not to call me Rae."

"Why," Travis demanded, running a hand through his blonde hair, flipping it.

"I don't need to give you any explanations. I don't have one."

"I meant why can't I call you Rae?"

"Because only friends call me that."

She pushed the empty glass to the bartender, signaling for a refill. She breathed deep. The lights stung her eyes and numbed the sound her ears. But it helped. It helped distract her. It made her feel good. Happy… almost happy. But she couldn't forget him, she had tried, but there was too much that had happened between them for her to do so.

So she leaned in close to her not-friend and closed her eyes, pretending the world away.

She was kissing Robin and snow fell around her, on her shoulders, eyelashes, in her hair. There wasn't any music and his mask lay soaking at her feet. Her stiff frozen hands in his or tangled into his black hair, her cheeks warm and stinging. It was just them, them and the silencing snow. Them and the sky.

But the snow wasn't there.

There wasn't even a them.

Just her and her not-friend and the unpleasant quiet that settles in after a bad kiss. Robin stared at them from his hiding spot, stomach twisted in jealousy and pain, defeat and anger filling his veins.

"You're sixteen."

"I know," she said.

"I'm twenty one."

"I know," she said again.

"It's wrong."

"Yes, it is and I don't want you to confuse this for anything. I don't like you and I don't what to spend any time with you. If I come back, I'll dance with you. But it was just a kiss."

He pulled her toward him and wrapped her in his arms, noticing her breasts against his chest, trying to see if any heartbeat existed. She stood still, unmoving, stoic. And he kissed her again, and she responded, imaging for all she could. Her tongue against his, , he ran a hand along her back, lower, lower, then too far up. Her eyes clenched, trying desperately, desperately to ignore the blonde hair that tickled her cheek, the warmth of the club that was all too quickly leaking back in. One tear, then another, a small stream, then nothing, for she pushed him away, maybe with too much force, and rubbed her eyes, disbelieving. Her dream stood there, watching her with sad eyes.

He reached for her hand as she reached for the crowd, and his fingers caught her wrist. She stopped, her back to him, her head hung.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. Please don't run."

"Are you going to take me home?"

"Do you want to go home," he asked quietly.

She turned to him, trying not to cry, trying not to let him see how thin her skin was at the moment.

"I don't know what I want."

She wished that things were simple… like they used to be; the whole I save your ass, you save mine mentality. But he had changed the game.

Travis yawned, waiting for her.

"I thought you were meeting with friends."

"I was," she lied.

"You don't have any friends, Rae."

"I can have friends other than you guys. What about Speedy, Bee, Herald, Argent, even Jinx and I get along…"

"We're your friends because we went through the issue of control. Because we know your past," he told her, his voice too soft for the harshness of his words. "How are you going to tell a civilian that your father is the physical form of evil? How will they handle the sight of you with Doctor Light? You can't have friends, Raven."

She was silent because it was true and painful.

"This guy likes you because you have a nice rack or he thinks he'll score…"

"Robin… stop."

"… and prove to his friends that he's the man. You aren't anything to him, because…"

"Dude," Travis hissed, "this is cruel. Don't do this to her."

"… he doesn't understand you. And even-"

But he fell quiet as a fist crashed into his face, calling him off guard. But he hardly took a step and just turned towards the man cradling his fist. Travis stood up straight and flexed his hand staring at Robin.

"The second part is true. I don't understand her. If I saw her going all monster-like, or what ever she is, I would probably freak. But she is something to me. She's my friend, even if I'm not hers. And I don't know what you're trying to prove exactly, but you don't need to."

He gave a quick smile to Raven, who just looked at him sickly, as if she was going to faint. With a last glare at Robin, he left burying himself among the throng of dancers.

"I'm sorry."

"Why did you do that? I know all these things," she told him, her voice almost ghostly.

"Because… I don't know."

"Yes you do. But you're trying to keep it from yourself."

"I was upset and I thought that… maybe if you lied to me… or if he wasn't your friend… that I could convince myself that he wasn't a threat."

They both searched for him on the dance floor. But he was normal, and therefore lost among the crowd.

"I'm sorry."

"You told me," she acknowledged.

"Are you angry?"

"No."

"Are you hurt?"

"A little," she drawled. "But I'm fine."

But Raven was not fine. She was sad, because she had to face the fact that she was hurt, because he reminded her of how lonely she really was. Whatever miserable scrap of happiness she once had was gone, and his real form was far more gentle than her pretendings. And it scared her, because she didn't even know if she deserved it.

She leaned against the wall, finding it hard to stand up.

"Are you ok?"

"Just a little overheated."

"Do you want to go outside," he question sadly, realizing the he had hurt her much more than she was letting on.

"I want to go home."

The ride was long and stiff. Cursing himself, Robin drove on, trying to put the fact of how badly he had truly screwed aside, while Raven, clinging to him tightly, was wishing. She didn't believe in fate or God, or anything higher than her. But for a moment she wondered if she gave the power away, and put her hope in the hands of unearthly strangers, her dreams might come true.

But there weren't any stars and the moon was fading behind the clouds.

Robin drove the R-cycle into the garage, smiling at Raven's wind blown hair. She narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose at the sight of herself in the machine's mirror.

"Walk me to my room?" she offered, opening the stairwell door.

"Sure."

It was too quiet for them, too repetitive, just walking up those dusty stairs.

"You can stop, you know, and be honest with me?"

"Meaning…?"

"You don't have to run away."

"I'm not running away," she objected, quickening her steps.

"You are right now. If you have a problem you can just talk to me."

"I don't have a problem."

"I made you upset."

"It's fine!"

She was almost a flight above him, leering down at him. He approached her, one slow step at a time.

"I don't know why you're denying your pain, but you don't need to hide it from me. It's great that you're being conscious of how I feel, but I pretty much feel like shit for how I treated you. You have every right to be angry"

"But I'm not. So if you want a verbal lashing or if you want me to tell you all of the problems I have with you, you're going to have to wait," she snapped. "I get that you need to kill your guilt. But you won't make anything better by getting yelled at."

"How will I make it better then?" he panted, cursing Raven for demanding a room on the highest floor. "I've apologized millions of times, I went looking for you, I pleaded with you, I've done everything! What would be good for you, Rae? What would it take to satisfy you?"

"Don't you know that actions speak louder than words? I understand that you're sorry. And I forgave you. But to make it ok, to make it 'better', you need to figure out what you did and fix it."

She pushed the door open and stepped into the hall, her legs tired from all the stairs. Robin followed her, breathing hard, yet trying to control it. They walked slowly because they liked arguing, even though they knew they could never keep it friendly.

"So what did I do," he asked intrepidly, bumping his shoulder with hers.

"I told you, you have to figure it out on your own."

"God, did I really hurt you that much? I mean what I did what a stupid-"

"Mean," she interjected.

"Fine! Stupid and mean thing to say, but you're tougher than that! What do you want?! Do you want me to give you and blonde-boy a condom and buy you a hotel room?!"

She glared at him, disbelieving, her arms spread.

"I want you to think, Robin!"

"You know, ever since you got 'control', you've been acting ridiculous-"

"I'm acting ridiculous?! What about you? You can't decide whether you want to be my friend or my enemy!"

"I wouldn't have to do that if you weren't acting like a junkie!"

"A junkie?!" She shouted incredulously, the thought of punching him becoming increasingly more attractive "How am I a junkie?! I've been completely straight!"

"You're addicted to partying."

"I like partying. I like dancing. Four nights at a club does not prove a point!"

"It proves my point perfectly. You're putting the city in danger because you want to go clubbing. You're a Titan. Act like one."

"I get there on time! I can teleport! I'm not some irresponsible crackhead bent on destroying the city through dance!"

"But what if-"

"Ugh!" she screamed, "you are so infuriating! You know that I wouldn't do this if I thought I would put anyone in danger! Maybe, instead of blaming me for everything, you grow a pair and actually do something to stop me? Maybe instead of turning this around on me, you figure out what you did?!"

She stood, glowering, and Robin was trapped between his need to win and his desire to make things right. He looked at her, closely, as if studying her, analyzing her body language, what she might say, what he could say to stump her, and realized that he was playing games, and he had forgotten his mission. And had hurt her once more.

"I'm so tired of you and your cockiness! You may be our fearless leader, but th-"

But she was cut off by his lips against hers. Her breath hitched, her eyes widened, only to close at the sight of his blurry outline. Nothing exploded, broke, or cracked, the tower did not tremble. And no matter how much she blinked, no matter how hard she tried to unfocus her mind, he was still there. His hand still cupped her face gently, he still held her close, and he was still kissing her. So she closed her eyes and kissed him back, letting her arms wind around his neck.

"I forgive you."