Guess who's back? Yep, it took forever but I finally updated. Sorry for the epic!wait, a lot of things hit me at the same time. Firstly, I had to do this gigantic application for a summer program. Then I got bad grades so I had to focus and bring them up. And then I developed a really annoying crush on one of my friends, which is so unrequited it makes me want to explode. What's worse is that he has a girlfriend (in Oregan???), and I'm not the bitchy stealing type. /sigh/

Eh, enough complaining.

Story time.

-------

She didn't deserve the love that they gave her.

But she accepted it anyway. Because she was lonely and lost, afraid. Because if there were people that still loved her, then maybe the fact that she was a monster would fizzle into transparency.

She watched from her bed as her clock wailed red, making it all too clear that it was midnight and his third day of sleep. His third day of not knowing how sorry she was, how much she missed him. He was dying. And it was killing her, slowly, like old honey falling from a ladle.

Her body had begun to suffer from the sleepless nights. Her once beautiful shining eyes were sullen and baggy, she had lost her glow. Things began to frighten her, minimal trivial things like a sudden slam of doors, an unexpected voice. And insignificant tasks suddenly proved a challenge.

When she wasn't training, she was meditating. If she wasn't meditating, she was on the roof damning herself for her selfishness and all the danger she inflicted upon her friends.

It was safe to say that she was a little bit unhinged.

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. But all she could see was his face, bloody and scratched, almost dead.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Rae," called a deep brotherly voice, "can I come in?"

She flicked her hand and the door hissed open, casting light and shadow around the room.

A cold metallic hand touched her shoulder, making her shiver. Cyborg quickly switched his hand, resting his human one upon her ashen skin, stroking it lovingly, as if cradling a child.

"How you holding up, Dark Girl?"

Raven pulled the covers to her skin. The shivers, the cold, wouldn't leave her body or mind, reminding her achingly of his jacket that she refused to wear. She brushed her forehead with the back of her fingers, letting the cold sweats collect in the gaps. The older boy pressed his cool metal palm to her hairline, soothing her pulsing memories.

"…I can't sleep," she whispered hoarsely.

"Me neither."

"You have an excuse. You're up all night. You're up all night keeping an eye on him."

". . ." Cyborg sighed quietly, "I am. But it makes me feel better, like I can control things, like I can keep a solid variable on his chance of survival."

"I should be healing him."

"No. You shouldn't. With your emotions in this state……- Rae, you know that I trust you. You're just too unstable right now."

She gulped down the new set of tears that threatened to spill.

"I was so sure that I had my powers under control. I checked everything. I got as happy as possible, I got drunk. I didn't meditate once. Why couldn't it have killed me?"

"He isn't dead, Rae. He's getting more stable everyday. It isn't your fault."

"How can you say that to me when you saw what happened. I lost control. I hurt him. It's my fault entirely, you know this and you're trying to make me feel better."

He so wanted her to smile, for the pressure pouring down on her to lighten. But she was right, and the blank reality in her stare forced the truth into his thoughts. It was her fault; every shallow breath Robin took, every one of those cuts, each one of those nurses, doctors, was there because of her mistake. And he wished that it was Mumbo's fault, so he didn't feel the need to cradle the potential murderer of his friend.

He nodded and stared ahead, staring out the large windows.

"Let go outside. I haven't had fresh air in four days."

She agreed and pulled her blanket over her shoulders, following him out onto the balcony, shivering almost instantly. It chilled her to her core, the breeze was almost painful… but it felt right. It felt like she was finally having someone give her what she deserved. Like some one was being real and blunt with her and giving her the treatment that was right.

Another gust barreled through the blanket, as if reprimanding her for her self-pity.

"What's the temp?"

Cyborg pressed a button on his knuckle and held it to the wind.

"Thirty-three… twenty-five when you count wind-chill."

"No kidding," she agreed, squinting as her hair tickled her eyelashes. "Remember when we went to Paris?"

"You mean on that bogus mission?"

"Yeah, by the time the T-plane actually landed, Bomb-Voyage had already been defeated. We spent a whole week there, doing nothing. It was just one week and I already felt more at home there then I do in Jump."

"I had to practically drag you into the plane," he smiled.

"God, I hate this city," Raven hissed darkly. "I'm so tired of fighting. …I was thinking that once this all blows over, once he can walk again, that maybe Robin and I could go back up there, just the two of us. We could try to figure things out, find out what exactly is going on between us."

""You sure do have a lot of ground to cover. But if you've got to find out what feel about someone, no better place than Paris."

She scratched her head, agitated.

"I just wish that I never did this stupid test. If had been able to say no to him… I knew that it would go bad eventually. Just not this bad."

She sighed quietly.

"Tell me a secret," Cyborg said plainly, leaning against the metal gate. "Robin gets all the good secrets. If you tell me one, I'll tell you one."

Raven raised an eyebrow at him, but nodded, thinking. She has some harmless secrets, but those would surely bore him. All the others were too severe, and it scared her to say them out loud. But she needed a distraction.

"You go first," she smirked.

"That wasn't part of out deal, sneaky."

"Fine," she huffed. "I'm not a virgin."

Cyborg blinked.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"B-but how?! Who?!"

"How do you think?" she quipped. "Besides, you can't be Chase's girlfriend and not do that sort of thing. He needs that to keep him loyal. It wasn't as if I liked it, so I guess I've still managed to keep my metaphorical virginity, but the physical, not so much. Besides, I'm sure everyone in the Titans except for Star has done it."

He shook his head.

"Don't be so sure, Dark girl."

"What, you've never-"

"Of course I have. But everyone else, I don't think so," he explained. "We don't have that much free time, and most of us, except for Speedy, want a relationship to occur before something like that happens. You, me, Speedy, and perhaps Aqualad are the only ones that have ventured past kissing and groping."

"I was sure Robin-"

"The boy doesn't go outside, I don't think he has time to go spelunking. Besides, he and Star only were steady for a month or so. I think he might have been saving himself for-"

"Don't say it," she barked. "I don't want to hear it."

"But it's true. He's a romantic."

Raven pushed herself off the balcony and back into her room, falling onto her bed, trying to block out what her friend was saying. She was afraid and hurt, and she didn't want to be reminded of what he felt for her, the weapon she used to kill him. She still wasn't ready to let go.

But she kept remembering the feeling of his lips on hers, locked in raw passion. She never knew something could feel so perfect but so sinful at the same time.

Raven remembered everything.

It happened where she was now, a desperate scrambling of unfulfilled hunger and a need to be wanted, to be desired. Never separating, never breaking that thirsty kiss, he tore off his jacket, only to be followed by hers, then her shirt. She grabbed the fabric of his shirt and raised it over his head, over his arms, and it soon joined the others in the corner of her room. It felt like electricity, having his skin, his toned, devoted arms, holding her, his lips greedy. He drew a trail, kissing from her mouth to her jaw, until he reached her neck, which sent a jolt down her spine. She groaned softly into his ear. Her back arched, reverting to the animalistic tendencies that she had locked away, dragged to the surface by his starving lips, which nipped at her collarbone tenderly. Robin was so careful, loving, gentle, that it felt as if he treasured her.

But she didn't deserve it. All the things she had done, the people she had hurt... She was a danger to all of those she cared for, all the ones she held dear. Especially him: her best friend, the one that confused her, made her feel. So, with gushing tears falling from her eyes, and with a pain that felt as if her heart was being torn, she pushed him away, screaming, rambling. She threw his clothes at him, forced him out. …Shut him out.

"Rae?"

She turned towards her friend.

"What?"

"You never listen, do you? I was saying that you should come up for air so I could tell you my secret. It's a good one. One only you will know."

Raven sat up, glad for the distraction.

"Tell me," she demanded.

"When I was seven I wanted to be a fashion designer."

"Get out," she whispered, amazed.

He nodded.

"That dream kind of died once I had my accident. But hey, I'm happy with where I am now."

"Never too late."

"Optimism? From Raven? And I though Robin was the sick one."

Silence fell in her room, the only sound coming from the waves and the wind. She stared at her wall, eyes blank, bathing in the moonlight and shaking slightly from the cold.

"You need to see him," he told her, looking her in the eyes.

She shook her head and lay back down, breathing deeply. Her sheets still smelled like him. So she buried herself under her covers, pretending that he was there next to her, safe, healthy, and peaceful. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to see what she had done.

"He's getting better, you know. Still asleep, but he's responding well to the medication. He's healing fast."

She remained quiet and ignored him.

"Rae, come on. I know you feel bad, but you need to see him. He needs you."

She turned away from him, her eyes closed, her hair falling out of place.

"Raven!" He chastised, ripping the covers out of her hands. "You're acting like a child. He loves you. He loves you more than anything! He has saved you thousands of times, protected you, comforted you… This is selfish. I want to see you in the infirmary tomorrow. That's an order."

"And if I refuse?" She growled.

"Robin didn't resort to punishment and nor will I. But you should think about who you're really hurting here."

Raven waved her hand and the door opened, once again flooding the room with light. She stared at him meanly, her eyes flashing intimidatingly, her brow furrowed, and her posture sharp, confrontational. Cyborg watched her. He saw the things she didn't notice: the tiny twitches of a frown, her caving shoulders, her curling toes, all signs of suppressed guilt and helplessness.

But he let her hold onto the one thing she had left: her pride.

"You're free to go," she spat, signaling towards the door.

He sighed but turned to the door, respecting her privacy.

"Remember, Rae," Cyborg said as he walked out the door, "we love you. So do us a favor and take care of yourself. He'll be ok. Shower, eat. You need your strength."

The door whispered closed and left her in the dark, alone, cold.

She tossed and turned, pulling the covers this way and that, but she couldn't calm down. His scent was teasing her. Whenever she tried to focus on in, to fill the void, it escaped. It was too fleeting and temporary. She breathed deep into her pillowcase. Again, gone.

So she stood and she paced, hoping that her thoughts would restart and she could rid herself of the endless red that plagued her mind's eye. Pace, turn, pace, turn. Stop. She stared at the new indigo of her walls. He kissed her here too. The day after she first felt his lips, the day she broke his heart and his bones. She couldn't get his face out of her head, that shocked, suicidal stare that bore into her as she told him that she would never need him.

She smashed her fist against the wall. Slam, slam, SLAM. She screamed as she punched, her palms aching, her knuckles swelling. Sobbing. Sobbing. Sobbing.

"I love you. Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry, Robin," she wept, sinking to the floor, hiding behind her knees. "I'm so sorry." She shook with her tears and let them fall freely, let them soak her shirt and make her knees slippery and wet. She hiccupped, hyperventilating, her cries violent and harsh.

She felt arms wrap around her, strong but adoring, the smell of his skin surrounding her. She turned around, wide-eyed, hoping.

But no one was there, only her, hugging her knees.

She wiped the angry tears from her eyes, stood, and walked out of her room talking only a pillow with her. The hallways were long and unending, and she felt like she was being swallowed. But she continued walking until she reached the elevator. She pushed the button, waited and stepped inside, cringing at the blinding lights. But it was fast and she was only two floors away. Immediately after the door opened she ran to the end of the hall, stopping only when she reached his room.

She punched in his code (8254) and stepped into his room. Everything in the room simply exuded Robin, from the plainness of his bedspread right down to color of his walls. It was neat and tidy now that Slade was dead. His bed was clumsily made and his papers were organized, as was his corkboard and his files. His surveillance computer was shut off and a tower of books was erected next to his bed. She took a seat on the mattress and went through the titles. Her hand softly skimmed over the covers.

Raven was sure that her fellow bird liked mystery, it just seemed second nature to him. But they were all classics, novels that she herself had fallen in love with and been whisked away by. Moby Dick, The Great Gatsby, To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men, authors like Thoreau and Fitzgerald and Twain. She smiled to herself and put down the books.

Even incapacitated as he was, he still found ways to surprise her.

It was alarming. She hated it. She wasn't supposed to care this much. She wasn't supposed to feel such extremes. She wasn't supposed to love.

So Raven brought her legs up onto the bed, lay her head down on her pillow, and turned off the overhead lights with two claps. But she was moving soon again as she reached blindly for one of his pillows placing it over hers for added support.

She breathed deep and let his scent take over her senses.

Sleep wasn't far off.

Yes, I know. A bit mature, no? Hey, I think that Robin and Raven are both far too mature for their ages, so they can have a mature relationship. Read and Review please!