Hey, everyone. It's been a long time since I updated last . . . I think. I don't even remember. So . . . yeah. I don't have the energy to come up with some witty way to introduce this chapter, so pretty much just read if you want.

For days afterward, silence continued to be a barrier between them. Aside from awkward muttering of apologies when they bumped into one another on occasion, the air remained empty with unspoken words. He almost thought that if he reached his arm out, he could grasp the tension infused in the space around him, as if it were some tangible object attempting to suffocate him.

The fourth day that it continued, he found himself at loss for what to do. What had he done before his days were filled with painful words of past being spoken to her? He felt as though he had lived separate lives – one with his parents, another alone within the city, one along with the Doom Patrol, another as a Teen Titan, one after the terrible loss of his love, and another beginning with the presence of the pale girl. Reflecting over the segments of his life, he came to the realization that only one out of the entire six had been truly happy without scars tainting his soul. How he longed for the innocence and purity he had as a child; how he yearned to erase all the pain marring him from the past. Each time he passed from one 'life' to the next, more of his self was lost in the whirlpool of grief he endured.

He struggled to retain his anger at the girl. He wanted to be mad at her; he wanted to hate her, but he found he was unable to. After all, who else was to comfort him in the times he needed it most? This girl was the only one he had left, and he didn't even know her name.

Wandering through the halls of the Tower on the eighth day of silence, it suddenly struck him that she could have left. He hadn't seen her in three days; was she even her anymore?

All at once, he was overcome with a sense of dread. He was immediately surprised at this – he didn't care about her. Yet, he grew frantic at the notion of her leaving him alone. His legs became jittery and his hands began to shake. She couldn't leave. She wouldn't. Right?

All of the sudden, he was running through the Tower, looking in every possible place she might be in. He raced through every hallway, swinging open every door, his bloodshot eyes scanning each and every room he encountered. He even went into the basement and up on the roof, even in his old room. His heart beat rapidly, his eyes shifting everywhere, forever searching in vain. The echoes of his hurried, nervous footsteps bounced of the hall walls into nothingness, until they were no more.

He was back in the Main Room now, his hopes crushed and heart shattered. Defeated, he slumped against the wall and crumpled to the ground. Fresh tears prickled in his eyes despite all he tried to hold them back, and spilled onto his pale green cheeks. He was sure she'd given up on him the way everybody else had. She'd thought he was pathetic and worthless, which he was, and had decided that she hadn't deserved to punished by being in his presence. His chest contorted and he let out a painful sob. When was the last time he cried for someone other than Raven or his parents?

Back against the wall with his knees pulled close to him, he whispered, "I don't want to be alone anymore." His grip tightened. "I don't want to be alone anymore!" he screamed, his voice breaking. Fierce tears rolled down his cheeks as he pulled his long hair ferociously. Grabbing a fallen, broken stool near him, he threw it with all his strength, causing it to clatter loudly on the floor. He rocked back and forth, his fingers still grasping his greasy green hair. Sobs shook his body as anguish blinded his eyes with hot tears. He could feel the sharp, jagged blade of reality sink into him silently, cutting off his life into a world of pain.

With sudden resolve, he jumped off the floor. Knowing exactly what he wanted, he bolted down the hall to a door he threw open. He stomped down the filthy stairs leading into a long forgotten basement filled with insignificant objects lost in the past. Ignoring the fastidious rats scattering around the grimy floor, he tore through a pile of old dusty boxes, ripping through sodden cardboard musty from age.

After discarding meaningless things that were not what he was looking for, he finally found it. Running his hand over the smooth metal of the briefcase, he cleared an area between the rubbish he went through and attempted to click open the latch. It was locked. Cursing angrily, he smashed the briefcase into the floor until it was finally dented enough that he could slip his hand inside and pry it open with a furious force he wasn't previously aware he possessed.

Finally, lying before him was an array of handguns placed in old black spongy material. They'd had them in the basement for quite some time, but only in case of extreme circumstances. Robin had thought that guns were too dangerous and harmful to others, and he didn't want the Titans using them. "We want to stop criminals, not kill them," he'd explained one day.

Now, he took out a large silver one and made sure that it was loaded. One bullet was all he needed.

Running up the stairs with gun in hand, he burst into the Main Room once more, tears blurring his vision. In front of the large window at the end of the room that stretched across the entire wall, he dropped to his knees and let out one last sob. He couldn't do this anymore. Life was just too much for him; torturing himself by living had overwhelmed him. He couldn't stand being by himself any longer; at least this way he'd be with the people he once loved and still did love.

Bringing the gun to his head, he closed his eyes, letting the last of his hot tears escape his forest green eyes. Then, he moved his shaking finger to pull the trigger.

But he didn't escape the pain; blackness didn't engulf him in a bliss he so longed for. He opened his eyes, and in disgust, he saw he was still living and still in this wretched Tower, looking out at this wretched city. New tears sprung to his eyes. No! Why did this happen to me? Why can't I just leave this terrible place forever? he screamed in his mind.

He felt the gun slowly leaving his hand. In defeat, he slumped to the ground, knowing that it was her. She had to save the day, like always. It was her that caused him to pick up the gun, but also her that took it away. It was her. Always her.

For a moment, the pale girl thought she'd been too late the way his skinny body crumpled to floor like that in front of her vivid purple eyes. Just as she was certain death had truly taken him and she'd failed, she finally saw his chest rise and fall in a deep, strained breath. She recognized that he was resisting breathing, but his body insisted on filling his lungs with air.

Knowing that what she said would not take effect on him, she merely stood at his side silently, the destructive weapon weighing heavily in her pale, delicate hands. She looked onto his gaunt body curled up and shaking, all too familiar tears staining his cheeks, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Minutes passing by painfully, she finally felt she had to attempt to comfort him somehow. It will be okay, she said silently.

Finally, his eyes opened. They were dull and lifeless, staring into nothingness. "No," he said quietly in despair. "It won't."

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