Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans.

FOURTEEN

Inches

"I can tell you what pain is," she says, simply.

Her eyes are blank, and as he looks into them he can see nothing, no anger, no fear, no sorrow. And he knows she has drawn the curtains over her soul again. Thick black, suffocating curtains.

He sits beside her on the bench. Before them, the dark waters of the bay, reflecting tired starlight in the occasional glint. Behind them, a T-shaped tower, casting an enormous shadow which envelopes them in its coolness. There is a four-inch gap between them. And, trapped within those four inches, a world of difference.

Her hood is drawn back, her dark hair tucked behind pale ears. He wants to say many things about her hair, but somehow the words never make their flight off his tongue.

"It's like this... knot. Inside of you, in the pit of your stomach. Or deep in your chest. At the back of your head. And it clenches itself, and all the time you want to scream, but you don't. You keep the pain in. You bottle it up. You never let it out. Because to let it out would be dangerous."

He knows he shouldn't be looking at her, but he is. He can see her gritting her teeth in the moonlight, and the hairs on his arm bristle.

"So you create this vortex within yourself. And this pain, it becomes a sanctuary. You immerse yourself in it, like how a man holds his breath and plunges into the deep end of a pool, and never resurfaces."

If she was any other normal girl, things would be easier. She would cry, drops of pearl rolling down her cheeks, and he would pull her close to him, and she would cling, sobbing, to him, till daybreak.

But she is not.

She stares into the distance, stony, cold, hard. And he is at a loss for what to do. Her strength weakens him. Her silence assails him.

"Sometimes I wake up wanting to kill everybody. It scares even me."

And she looks down at his green hand, gripping the edges of his seat, and she wishes he would place his hand over hers, as if just his touch could take away all her hurt. What she wants is to feel someone else's warmth, to feel like there is life in this world worth protecting. It is what every super hero needs. But what she really wants is for someone to be there, to say, yes, you've been holding up very well, Raven, and if you need me, I'll be here (because she will never ask for help), you can depend on me.

But he makes no move, and neither will she, and they continue to sit, side by side, and only ever just four inches apart.