A.N. I've returned. Told you I wouldn't give up on this story! I don't really have an excuse for the duration of my absence since I've been on summer break for over a month, but cut me some slack. The junior year of high school was freaking HARD, what with SATs and college prep thrown in for good measure. I've got a part time job now and I've been recuperating from nine months of getting three to four hours of sleep per night by sleeping practically whenever I'm not working. So yeah, that's what I've been up to lately. I apologize profusely for the wait and I don't think it will take nearly that long to come up with future updates. I won't abandon this story; I'm a tenacious little so and so. Also, I want to say a big thanks to everyone who PMed me and encouraged me to continue this fic. You guys were a big encouragement!

Chapter thirteen of "Like It Or Not," entitled "Shock and Awe"

The scientist, or Roger B. Newman, PhD, as was sown beside the lapel of his lab coat, had been pacing madly for almost half an hour. The blood belonged to a metahuman, he was sure of it now. He had no clue what the blood type of the donor was; every test had been returned negative. And yet the blood had distinctly human qualities, containing red and white blood cells, proteins, platelets, and plasma that closely mimicked those found in a human. Once realizing this, he hurriedly performed an ABAcard hematrace test, which detected the presence of at least a trace amount of hemoglobin in the blood by successfully reacting it with a dyed monoclonal antihuman hemoglobin antibody. Then he was certain of his suspicion. He could neither confirm nor deny that the sample was animal blood, but it was undeniably proven to be human by the ABAcard. And yet it wasn't strictly human either, as evidenced by the negative blood typing tests.

The only viable solution to such a bizarre enigma? The blood belonged to a metahuman. Only a metahuman could have human blood that was dissimilar to that of all modern humankind, as if only that individual had been subjected to millions, perhaps billions of years of evolutionary mutations, thereby developing a significantly different circulatory system. All he could do now was wait impatiently for the results to the DNA test. Immediately upon beginning to suspect that the blood belonged to a meta, he had categorized the PCR DNA analysis as urgent and classified. From personal experience, he know that the test should only take two hours or so to complete while under those parameters, so the results were bound to be delivered to him very soon.

Newman hated having nothing to do but wait; it gave him time to think, time to question whether or not he would actually help carry out the villain's diabolical scheme now that he was aware of the ramifications. There were two clear choices he could make: Help the villain and aid in the slow, painful destruction of a superhero, or throw himself and his family at the mercy of the villain by disregarding his commission. The prospect of that second option nearly caused the old man physical pain. He could never live with himself if he knew he was jeopardizing the lives of the only people he cared about. His dear wife. His kids, the two forty-somethings he had raised and poured all of his love into, and the six grandchildren they had provided him. If they died, he would lose his reason for living.

Had he come to a decision then? Bile rose in his throat. Superheroes are uncommonly strong, he attempted to console himself. They face attacks on their lives everyday. Even if he carried this project to completion and the metahuman victim was attacked with it, maybe the metahuman could figure out a way to survive. Or maybe the meta would destroy the villain before the surely lethal serum could be administered. On the other hand, if he refused to complete the villain's assignment, he and his family were hopeless and utterly defenseless. Just damned sitting ducks.

He jumped when his fax machine began to beep, and several typed pages were quickly spat out. It was the results to the extensive PCR DNA test he had ordered several hours ago, just as comprehensive and complete as was expected from the top lab technicians in the country. His wrinkled hands shook as he snatched up the papers and he peered through his eyeglasses at the words before him. He sat down, no longer able to feel his body because of the foggy, numb chill that had settled over him. His trained eyes continued to scan the paper, expecting to find something terrible.

At first nothing abnormal jumped out at him. CMV test, negative. HIV test, negative. Influenza test, negative. Poliomyelitis test, negative. Negative, negative, negative. As the blood's abnormally high white blood count had suggested to him, the donor of this blood sample was obviously capable of maintaining impeccable health. For now. A cold shiver rattled the scientist's bones. He pressed on in scanning the pages, past the disease analysis portion and to the DNA abnormalities analysis. KSS negative. MERRF negative. MELAS negative. Leber's disease negative. Pearson's disease negative. No evidence of any type of cancer. Everything was checking out; this individual looked like a perfectly healthy human being, and there seemed to be no unique identifying features. That is, until the scientist's eyes focused on one particular line of text: "Recombinant DNA presence: positive."

At long last! An idiosyncrasy of the blood by which he could possibly identify the blood's source. Come to think of it, an article on the subject of recombinant DNA had been published not terribly long ago––two years at the most––in one of the journals he followed. Locating the article wouldn't be challenging. Newman put down the PCR results and closed his eyes for a moment before walking briskly over to his computer, where he accessed the online database where copies of his scientific journals were kept. He sat down and entered the keywords "Recombinant DNA" and within seconds had retrieved the article he had been recalling. He read the title and blinked. He reread the title, while his ears began to ring. This was it. This was the answer to his question! He knew whose blood he was testing, and whose life he would ruin. Why, he was just a little boy. The ringing in his ears became deafening and everything turned white. The scientist slumped back in his chair, out cold.

And upon his computer screen, blown up and furnished with a picture of the subject, remained the article, the bold title proclaiming, THE ORIGIN, PRESENCE AND LONGTERM IMPACT OF UNENGINEERED RECOMBINANT DNA: CASE STUDY OF ALIAS BEAST BOY, by an anonymous author.

TT

The hall was silent, just as it had been for the two minutes or so that Beast Boy had been idling in it, just standing before Raven's door and psyching himself up for what he was about to do. He prayed that this would go over well, but with Raven you could never exactly predict what would happen. He was sweating slightly from nervousness and swallowed heavily as he cautiously knocked on her bedroom door. The slight tremor of apprehension in his hand as it moved did not escape him.

The careful knock reverberated through the nearly vacant hallway, and Beast Boy shifted his weight anxiously. His keen ears strained to pick up even the slightest sound of reaction from within Raven's bedroom, but for a few seconds there was nothing. God, what would he do if she didn't answer? He hadn't considered that. It took so much courage to do this once that he'd probably run out of nerve before he could try again.

Several more agonizing moments of overwhelming silence passed, during which the changeling stood completely still. He sighed to himself with relief when he finally heard a gentle creaking from within Raven's bedroom, which confirmed his assumption that she had indeed found sanctuary there. However, the noise was probably from her bed, which probably meant that she had been sleeping or reading or something, and he had most likely disturbed her. Great. She was disenchanted enough with him as it was (to put it tamely), even when he made an effort not to pester her. But for once, it actually had to be done.

"Go away, Beast Boy," Raven uttered quietly from within her room. Without Beast Boy's impeccable hearing, he probably would not have been able to hear her at all. But even though the door muffled her words, the changeling did not have any trouble making them out or even noticing their utter lack of inflection, which stood as a notable testament to her impressive façade of emotional control. In fact, if she hadn't been speaking so strongly against him just hours ago, maybe he would have bought into her affected indifference.

Instead of offering a verbal reply, Beast Boy offered up a silent prayer for courage and merely knocked on her door again, just slightly louder and more confidently than the first time. He took a few careful, measured breaths. He could do this. He could do this. Oh God, he couldn't do this.

There were a good twenty seconds or so of silence this time, and they dragged on like hours for the distressed Titan in the hallway. But just when Beast Boy was debating if he ought to knock a third time, he heard an exasperated sigh and more shifting from within the chamber. His heart leapt to his throat and he took a final deep breath, and then quickly transformed himself into a green cat. Feline Beast Boy then sat down neatly on the cold floor and stared wide-eyed at the looming metal door in anticipation.

For several moments, Beast Boy could hear Raven standing just before her door, which made him wonder if she would even open it after all. Perhaps she was hoping that his short attention span would get the better of him, and that he would mercifully leave her alone if she waited long enough. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than that himself at the moment, but he fought against the strong, instinctual urge to flee.

Finally, at long, long last, Raven's hydraulic door slid open with a mechanical hiss. The meager light from the hallway immediately poured into the empath's unlit bedroom, and splashed across her intimidating, cloaked figure. Raven's shoulders were squared and her hood was drawn, which hid her face in those all too familiar shadows that seemed to be her security blanket during troubling times. However, the harsh words that were moments from being formed on the dark Titan's lips faded as she peered into the empty hallway in confusion. Barely missing a beat, her calculating gaze shifted downward and she spotted Beast Boy, whose long, green tail was swishing back and forth anxiously all the while. She raised an eyebrow and looked at the cat skeptically, but the cat stared right back. His whiskers twitched nervously, the close proximity of his formidable teammate no doubt intimidating.

"Is there something you want?" Raven inquired flatly. Her tone betrayed that she obviously felt quite gracious for even deigning to speak to a cat in the first place… unless that too was an air put on to dissuade him.

In response, the cat merely cocked his head to the left, apparently looking past Raven and into her very dark, very frightening bedroom.

Raven continued to stare down at Beast Boy blandly. He could almost smell the disbelief that suddenly surrounded the empath. Somehow the changeling could tell that he had her confused, which did a bit to strengthen him. For once, she was trying to figure out what he was thinking, instead of the other way around. Still, Raven would be two steps ahead of him in no time, he was sure, which was why waiting like this was unbearable. Precious seconds passed and he continued to stare past Raven, whose eyes narrowed disapprovingly at the harried kitten. But luckily for Beast Boy, just when he thought that he was about to crack and have a little kitten heart attack, a miracle happened.

Raven sighed and cast her gaze heavenward. She turned, retreated several steps into her bedroom and stopped, glancing with a look of absolute indifference over her shoulder. Mind filled simultaneously with excitement and crippling trepidation, Beast Boy took her actions as a sign of charity and quickly scampered into her bedroom. He crossed the carpeted floor and leapt onto her bed, well aware that such actions might cost him his life. But he hadn't come this far to cop out. He figured that he was essentially at the point of no return, and there wasn't much left to lose anyway, in terms of whatever existed between him and his new wife.

Raven apparently couldn't believe Beast Boy's audacity either. The look on her face clearly informed the changeling that she wasn't certain if she should humor him further or bodily remove him from her bedroom. Hoping to turn the tables in his favor, Beast Boy the little green cat mewed and offered Raven what he hoped was his most winning kitten face. His actions won him a disdainful smirk from Raven, but she rolled her eyes and shut the door to her room. She crossed the floor casually and came to a stop before Beast Boy, who stared up at her while she appeared over him, hood still concealing her cheerless face.

"What do you want?" Raven repeated, her voice ever so slightly lighter this time. Beast Boy silently rejoiced. No one could resist the face, not even Raven in all her formidable obstinacy.

Instead of replying verbally, Beast Boy took a single hop across the dark, silky bed sheets (taking care not to snag them with his claws) and sat down facing Raven again, providing ample room for her to sit.

Unfortunately she did not, and the ensuing staring contest nearly sapped Beast Boy of his resolve completely. Raven remained standing expressionlessly before him, arms folded beneath her cloak, and refused to budge from her spot beside the bed. Clearly she was waiting for him to stop his antics and reveal his purpose in wasting her time, and making herself comfortable wasn't one of her priorities.

"Beast Boy," Raven finally sighed in a warning tone, several minutes into the silence, "why are you here?" The changeling did not reply. Raven scowled internally. He played the part of an innocent kitten so well, darn him. Still, she could have sworn that he was beginning to shake, which was a clear testament to his prevailing fear of her. That made her glad.

"If you have no reason to be here, then I'd appreciate it if you left," she pushed on. "I'm busy."

Still sitting neatly on the cool sheets, the cat managed a pseudo-leisurely yawn and looked away from the empath in apparent disinterest. Even as a cat, the green idiot was a decent actor. Raven would give him that much.

Beast Boy stretched slowly and curled up, resting his little head on his paws. He snuggled into the sheets luxuriously, as if to say that he wasn't going anywhere. There was a beat of tense silence, during which Beast Boy could only hope that he hadn't terribly irritated the empath before him. He also prayed that she bought this act of indifference, because in reality his insides had been reduced to changeling flavored jell-o.

"What are you trying to accomplish, Beast Boy?" Raven posed in aggravation, eying the cat warily. "You know that there is nothing left to discuss. It will make life easier for the both of us if you understand that."

The kitten, who had closed his eyes while getting settled, opened one of them tiredly. He meowed in a melancholy sort of way but remained otherwise still.

Raven shifted in mild irritation. She had a strong feeling that Beast Boy had some sort of twisted agenda, and if he had come to accomplish something, then of course she could expect all of his usual stubbornness.

It was quite frustrating, actually, that she had done all in her power to dissuade him from the notion that anything would become of their marriage, and yet Beast Boy seemed not to comprehend her yearning for normalcy. Sure, it was unfortunate that she had to resort to using a certain level of… firmness with him, but even then Beast Boy didn't seem to grasp her message. Feeling guilty about being harsh was pointless, just as expecting a fairytale ending was absurd. If anything perhaps she hadn't been harsh enough, or else Beast Boy would have the good sense to realize that she didn't want him randomly showing up in her bedroom like this. Even so, it wasn't like she particularly enjoyed being cruel to the changeling, even if he really did deserve it. She simply couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that she had been harboring since she had gone off at Beast Boy earlier that day. Especially seeing him like this now, the changeling seemed like just a fragile little kid. Could he really be the despicable monster that Raven had drawn him up to be in her mind? Perhaps she had overestimated his treacherousness a touch. But then again, perhaps maintaining her gut instinct to distrust him would prevent the rise of a relationship that would destroy the team's cohesiveness, if not her own sanity first. Still, it was hard to look upon the changeling at that moment and think of him as capable of causing her harm.

"God forbid that you think your antics will do anything to persuade me," she uttered quietly, almost in surrender. She gingerly sat down on her bed beside the green cat, who again began to eye her. "My mind has been made up. Please don't waste your time with an effort that will ultimately only make our lives harder."

The changeling rejoiced a little inside. To be sure, the empath's words betrayed no new sentiment, but the conviction that usually shone beneath them was lacking. Incredible. Could it be that for once his plan wasn't going to blow up in his face? Still, the changeling decided it was prudent to bide his time. A lot could go wrong in a very short amount of time, so he still did not respond, even when Raven was motionless for several unbearably tense minutes.

For the changeling to spend so much time in silence was quite enough to convince Raven that he was up to something odd. The empath shifted her position so that she was sitting cross-legged with her back to her pillow, an act that she feared might be misread as an act of truce. Only compounding her unease was the fact that she couldn't for the life of her figure out exactly what the changeling was up to. Usually it was very apparent early on. Not only did the absence of her empathic powers make it notably more difficult to figure out what the green boy was thinking, but the guise of a cat form made reading him quite impossible. If he was waiting for some sort of apology though, he'd be waiting until hell froze over. Raven could outlast anyone in a battle of wills, and she was quite finished with yielding to his fatuousness for the day.

Raven carefully slid back and leaned against her headboard, stretching her legs out on the bed before her. Beast Boy remained on the other side of the bed, studying her soundlessly. She closed her eyes. She did feel a bit sleepy, actually, and a nap didn't sound all that bad. If Beast Boy felt like giving her the silent treatment, or whatever imbecilic endeavor this was, then he could stare at her until he died of boredom. She really didn't care. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of offering further justification or anything that could be misconstrued as reconsideration of her previous assertions.

And so she simply allowed herself to relax, attempting not to think about Beast Boy and his presence. If there was a single perk to being stripped of her empathic prowess, it was gaining the ability to ignore the presence of people around you. There were no auras to pick up on, and no emotions to read. Sometimes ignorance truly was bliss, especially when it came to Beast Boy and his unpredictable emotions.

It was a matter of minutes before Raven began to nod off. Her bedroom was pleasantly warm and with effort she was able to force her weary mind away from troubling thoughts. When she tried, she was almost able to convince herself that Beast Boy wasn't even there, a trick that had come in handy the night before.

However, perhaps ten minutes later, Raven was suddenly pulled from the throes sleep at the sensation of some slight, warm pressure upon her leg.

Raven's eyes snapped open and she was greeted with the sight of that darned green cat with his head resting against her calf. With a frown she pulled her leg sideways, which made the cat's tiny head drop to the bed. This, in turn, made the drowsy kitten awaken with a start. He stumbled to his tiny feet and stepped gingerly back towards the head of the bed in a sleepy sort of trance, then stretched out again against the pillow next to Raven's. Within seconds he appeared to be fast asleep again, and completely comfortable in his place. For some reason this display of forwardness irked the empath terribly.

"Beast Boy, would you please drop this? You're just being annoying," Raven demanded between clenched teeth, a bit more loudly than was necessary. "You apparently have no business in my bedroom other than to aggravate me with your silent protest."

Beast Boy did not budge. He did, however, appear to rouse from his languid state, and he yawned ––quite adorably–– again. That was just the icing on the cake.

"If you're just going to be petulant then I'm going to make you leave," Raven threatened, coldness seeping into her words as she spoke. "We've discussed everything that needs to be discussed, and I think we would both be better off if you forgot the ridiculous notion that you're entitled to invade my space like this, just because we share a last name. I find it difficult to believe that you haven't picked up on that yet." With a flawless transition from tranquility, Raven's attitude was suddenly pure ice, hard as rock but smooth as glass. "I never gave you a reason to believe that I'm interested in pursuing a relationship with you, and do not expect me to change my mind in the future. Stop trying, will you? Save your efforts for two years, and then you can find another Terra who will gladly return your immoderate affection. But I'm not interested."

The green cat was still, save its twitching ears, all the while that Raven was speaking. He remained motionless for a moment after Raven finished and his focus drifted from her, as if he was processing her words.

In the time it took to blink, the green cat was replaced by a green boy, whose sudden weight upon the mattress caused the bed to creak. The frown marring the changeling's face unmistakably displayed his displeasure. The emotion that an animal's visage could not convey shone plainly in the boy's hard green eyes, making Raven secretly wish that he hadn't transformed at all. He sat cross-legged facing Raven, and now boldly returned her gaze.

"That hurt enough the first time," the changeling said with a definite edge of spite. "You don't need to keep repeating yourself."

Raven's expression remained impassive. But regardless of her pretended nonchalance, the uncharacteristically rigid indignation in the boy's face disquieted her deeply. Perhaps she had been wrong to hope that he was simply up to his childish antics, then?

"Apparently I must," she replied calmly, trying to draw up an air of righteous offense with which to shield herself. "Evidently you have forgotten what I said, or else you would not be here."

Beast Boy scoffed bitterly in reply.

"Of course I didn't forget, Raven," he said somewhat derisively, voice low with thinly veiled resentment. "It's not possible to forget it so quickly when the girl you just married says she hates your guts."

"I never said that I hate you, Beast Boy," she defended, "only that I don't love you."

"But not just that," he continued angrily. Suddenly the room was uncomfortably warm and stuffy. "You made sure I understood that you'll never love me, or heck, even be tolerant of my existence, regardless of how I saved your life! What a way to repay me, Raven. You've really outdone yourself this time."

"I refuse to justify myself," Raven responded indignantly, and her eyes narrowed slightly. "It's not my problem that you can't bear to act maturely for once and be content to keep your hands to yourself while I work through this. Alone."

Beast Boy knew that the emotions he had tried hard to suppress earlier were boiling inside him, strangling him as he struggled to keep them at bay. He finally had the opportunity to tell Raven exactly how she had made him feel over the last week, as she coldly regarded him as nothing more than a depraved savage. Even now she called him immature. If only he could make her understand how horribly wrong she was! He didn't want to hold back any more. For once in his life he wanted Raven to apologize for the hell she was putting him through, because obviously she was still completely ignorant of how she was destroying him. How else could she put him through such misery and yet retain the audacity to stand by her actions? He would probably regret lashing out later, but he couldn't care less. He felt powerless as the ocean of suppressed fury threatened to sweep him to his certain demise, and a thirst for retribution overpowered his better judgment. He craved the satisfaction of finally wrenching Raven from that deplorable obstinacy of hers, because it was eroding every bit of confidence and precious happiness left in him.

"How dare you lecture me about maturity, Raven," Beast Boy seethed, olive eyes narrowed. "You're so quick to insult my self control, but you can't even get off your damn high horse to see how hypocritical you're being!" His gloved hands were balled into fists beside him, now shaking for a different reason entirely. He moved to clutch her sheets tightly in his hands, desperately fighting for composure, for grounding. After all, he knew, if he couldn't keep from losing it, then he was no better than Raven.

"Hypocritical?" Raven repeated dangerously. Now that allegation hit a nerve. "Pray tell, dear boy, how I'm being hypocritical."

"With pleasure! You can hardly stomach being in the same room as me, and for the longest time I couldn't figure out why!" Beast Boy exclaimed, utterly distraught. His fingers still were still woven into Raven's blankets, and he clutched them even tighter, as if they were his only hope of retaining sanity. "You're afraid. You're absolutely terrified, I know, and you run away every time you feel threatened! I'm not the one running from our issues, Raven, and still you call me immature. Running doesn't solve anything, and for once, I'm the only one who seems to understand that."

"I'm not running, I'm being prudent. Our relationship is a threat to the stability of the team, and while you'd prefer to ignore that, I'm not willing to risk our lives as Titans," Raven replied, incensed. Beast Boy's lividness may have jostled her more than she wished to admit, but it would not hinder her from speaking the truth that he obviously needed to hear. "All I fear is that your efforts to create some unnecessary romance between us will end up destroying us. If you insist on believing that I'm running, then I won't waste the effort to disabuse you from that ridiculous notion."

While the two were arguing, Raven had drawn herself up to match Beast Boy, and now returned his gaze relentlessly. She regarded him with arms folded beneath her cloak and a look of righteous fury upon her face. Her hood had been pushed back, and her husband could see her eyes blazing with the sentiment she voiced. This look infuriated Beast Boy. She was lying to his face! How could she keep up such a guise of blamelessness and try to force him onto the defensive, when clearly she wasn't telling him the whole truth, if any at all? He knew that girls were uncannily talented at deception, but it was frightening to think that Raven could seem so serious while lying. The question that remained for Beast Boy to rapidly strive to answer was, could this presumed friend of his actually be intentionally misleading him, even now? If so, then surely she was no friend of his. And maybe she never had been. Such a morbid thought broke the changeling's heart. A bit of his fury began to drain from him as the implications of that new idea slammed into him. Beast Boy clenched his teeth and forced himself to keep silent. He needed a moment to rein in his thoughts, or else he was sure to come out with something that he would regret saying later. He craved the satisfaction of forcing Raven to see the error in her way, but not at the cost of his self-respect. He hadn't meant this meeting to descend into another argument, and yet it had. That sickened him horribly. And on her birthday too.

The changeling remained still as he forced himself to calm down. He didn't want to stay angry at Raven. It was just too exhausting, and his head hurt. If Raven wanted to paint him as her antagonist, then maybe he simply ought to let her. It would crush him, but at least they would avoid such terrible conflict. He was beginning to doubt that it was even in his power to change Raven's mind, just as Robin had asserted. And yet what had made him attempt to do so in the first place? If he actually loved her, would he be willing to give up like this?

Raven watched Beast Boy warily as stillness overtook her bedroom again. He was breathing hard and looking down at the wrinkles in her sheets, apparently lost in his thoughts, and did not speak for what seemed like an eternity. Raven was puzzled and a bit frightened at his sudden anger, but was equally disquieted by this disturbing silence. She knew that she had upset him badly. Azar knew she hadn't meant to, but evidently her ill-timed accusation of immaturity had gotten to him, or perhaps it had merely been the straw that broke his back. Outside, the wind was blowing languidly over the bay and a clock within her room counted the moments that slipped by. At long last Beast Boy spoke, and thankfully some anger had gone from his voice, although a hollow sort of despondency had replaced it.

"That's not all you're afraid of," Beast Boy insisted quietly with a quiet shake of his head, an assertion that quickly drew her wary attention back to him. His eyes remained on the smooth sheets between them, eyes tracing the gentle contours in the material. His tone was not precisely one of accusation anymore, but was instead filled with all the solemnity of having come to a heartbreaking realization. "You're afraid of… me," he nearly whispered.

Raven's eyes opened wide in surprise and she made a noise of disbelief. Her? Afraid of Beast Boy?

"Surely you flatter yourself," she began, shocked that the changeling would accuse her of such a thing. "Honestly I preferred being called hypocritical."

"I'm not as stupid as you think I am," Beast Boy ground out uncomfortably, finally shifting his gaze up to lock with Raven's again. The rage that had previously hardened his face had largely melted away, but the tenacity that replaced it seemed just as foreign. "I won't insult your powers and say I have a sort of empathy, but I've at least got some sort of animal equivalent to it." Suddenly he couldn't keep his eyes focused on the empath any longer. "And if there's one thing that a lot of animals… well, predators can sense, it's fear."

"I'm… not afraid of you," Raven breathed mechanically.

"Yes, Rae, you are."

Raven swallowed at the use of her pet name. A definite undertone of spite still cut his words, but anguish had apparently overcome the changeling's fury. Beast Boy's head was tilted down now, his shoulders drooping forward a bit. Subconsciously he began to slowly smooth out the deep creases in her sheets that he had caused.

And suddenly, Raven didn't want to look at him either. She twisted sideways again so that her back was to her headboard. She tried to swallow away the thickness in her throat, but to no avail. Her voice betrayed her agitation.

"Why would you say that?" she inquired, eyes cast straight ahead. Still, her peripheral vision caught Beast Boy's head tilt up. He was still for a pensive moment, and then let out his breath as a slow sigh.

"We used to be friends. Good friends, I guess. Then… all this happened, and something in you… something in your eyes––God, I can't explain it in words––but something… dimmed. And… and all that replaced it at first was this teeny shadow of something uncomfortable––fear, I know now. And I understood that; you had just found out about this… thing, and you proposed to me." Beast Boy's voice gave out here and he cleared his throat. Although he was staring at Raven's face in earnest, she was still looking off into the distance before her, nearly expressionless. He reached out a gloved hand to her. She did not move. He persisted, and yet Raven appeared not to notice the gesture at all. Distraught, he moved a bit closer to her and rested the hand on her shoulder. No response. Eyes carefully trained on hers, Beast Boy's hand trailed down her arm to rest over her worrisomely cold hand, which he clasped.

"So," Beast Boy continued, that dreadful feeling of suppressed tears beginning to well in his throat, "You proposed. And… I discounted your uncomfortableness. Your fear. It was fine, right? I was afraid too, I mean." He shrugged a bit, hand still covering hers. "But it didn't go away like mine did. You just got more and more afraid, and you only tried to cover it up by getting angry at me. You wanted me to feel like a freaking criminal or something so you'd feel justified in hating me. But you're terrified, Rae! Terrified that," his throat clenched, "that I'll make you… sleep with me, and I'll hurt you, and suddenly… you won't be so independent, so untouchable anymore. And you'll never be the same, and it'll be all my fault."

He used his free hand to wipe at his eyes with frustration, staying focused on Raven's face. Her eyes were cast down now, her lower lip between her teeth, but she did not answer him. He pulled her hand toward him, covering it with both of his. And even then, that scent of fear remained. How could words relate the despair this caused him? He prayed for a response. That's all he wanted now, simply the gift of closure. Seconds slid by, an eternity to Beast Boy. Had her room grown even darker? And then, when ages seemed to have passed, Raven tiled her face ever so imperceptibly towards him.

"It isn't your fault," she voiced vacantly. Her eyes drifted the length of her arm, to the hand that was obscured between Beast Boy's slightly larger, gloved ones. She swallowed cautiously. "It isn't your fault," she repeated with a bit more conviction, "but you're… right." She bravely ventured a glance toward Beast Boy, a war-weary look that the changeling seemed to graciously soak up. She couldn't find even a trace of anger in his eyes now, nor in the careful way he cradled her hand in his, longing to show his desire for peace more than simple words allowed.

"It's the curse that is hurting everything. It is hurting the team, and hurting our… relationship." Raven's brow creased a bit. Her cautious, quiet words grew a bit stronger, though her voice was still disturbingly fragile. "So, no, I don't blame you," she asserted with a shadow of her usual confidence. "I blame the curse. I blame it for providing no way, short of death and damnation, to avoid intimacy, and the trials it would certainly cause us. That intimacy… I do fear."

"But why?" Beast Boy asked in earnest. "Raven, I… I really care about you, do you get that?"

Raven shook her head distraughtly.

"So what?" she breathed, almost mirthlessly. "Affection cannot change me. I was born to be a portal, not a person. I was not raised to accept or tolerate affection. If you were privy to my past and all the things I've been through, you wouldn't hold me at fault for being… aloof, creepy, what have you. It's what I've become because of… what I've been through," she offered, striving simultaneously for truth and comfortable ambiguity. "I cannot change that I have learned to despise intimacy as weakness, as abuse waiting to happen. If my life has taught me one thing, it is that trust is so easily betrayed. Without exception. I will not take that risk."

Beast Boy felt Raven's hand twitch, as if to ball into a fist. He clasped it all the tighter.

"I can't imagine what your childhood must have been like," he offered, "I'm sorry it messed you up. But––"

"There is no but, Beast Boy," Raven said in growing frustration. What was wrong with this boy, she wondered, that even calling reference to her shadowy past wasn't enough to change his mind? Was he looking for a bigger fight than they were currently weathering? "When alone, I'm safe and as close to happy as I can ask to be. That is what I've become and what I will always be."

"That's not true, Raven, and you know it," the changeling insisted powerfully. "You're reclusive because you don't want to get hurt again. I get that. But you can't hide in your shell forever, and I'm not going anywhere. I've said it before, but I'm never going to hurt you. So you're not exactly ready to jump in bed with me––um, you know what I meant––and I get that too. That doesn't mean we have to be enemies." Here the changeling hesitated before going on. "And you can imagine what it's like when someone you care about treats you like a criminal. Look Raven, I'm not asking you to radically change your mind on the spot or something. Just think it over, I can wait."

Raven finally pulled her hand free from the changeling's grip. She held it to her body, crossing her arms on reflex.

"You'll wait for me to come around, then?" she scoffed sadly. "Two years would come and go long before I could resign myself. I don't want romance. It's clear that you do. And therein rests one of the irreconcilable reasons that we, Beast Boy, should not be married."

"It isn't about romance, Raven!" Beast Boy appealed in earnest. "I… I wouldn't be human if I said I was fine with all this platonic stuff forever, but I just want this thing between us to work, because there's obviously a reason that us two random people got smashed together by the curse. Don't try to discount that."

"Beast Boy," Raven groaned tiredly. "Just stop it, please."

"I can't and I won't," he replied tenaciously. "Maybe you'll thank me for it someday."

"I already made the mistake of thanking you," Raven bit, "the moment you agreed to marry me. I have begun to wish, however, that you hadn't agreed at all."

"You'd be dead!" Beast Boy cried forcefully.

"Dead but blissfully and eternally celibate," Raven sighed, glancing heavenward, a mockery of lily-white virtue. She watched Beast Boy shake his head in disbelief. It turned up her spirits, honestly. She didn't want to tear at the changeling like this, but even a temporary leg up did a bit to put her tortured mind at peace. He had given her far too much to brood over as it was. It would be best if he simply left now.

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. Now please leave."

"I came here to accomplish something, Raven."

"If your goal was to frustrate yourself and disenchant me then congratulations, you've accomplished something. Now leave."

Beast Boy's gaze was deathly serious.

"What if I say no?" he inquired inscrutably.

Raven's eyebrow arched in challenge.

"Then stay. Dig your own grave," she replied, attempting detachment. Her brow furrowed for a moment, then she continued with a more scornful tone of voice. "But don't tell me that you're deciding to be hypocritical now," Raven said, eyes widening a bit with feigned incredulity. "If you care about my happiness so much, why are you refusing to leave?"

"If I left you alone you'd get a few days––a few weeks tops––of happiness. Then Robin would kick you off the team, because you're no longer a superhero," Beast Boy said bluntly. "Deny it, I dare you, but I know you. You wouldn't know what to do with yourself without this gig, but I'd bet my life you wouldn't be happy." He crossed his arms. "I don't want that to happen to you."

Raven stared at Beast Boy, feeling quite unnerved.

"My life isn't going to be happy, Beast Boy," she replied. "For one reason or another. At least if I left I wouldn't have to constantly ward off your sexual advances."

The changeling felt deeply wounded, like the empath had stabbed him with a kitchen knife and twisted. Agony pulsed with his heartbeat, the fire of Raven's hatred for him breaking him apart. His only desire was to help Raven, the girl he thought he loved, but he was physically incapable of convincing her of such. He just couldn't do it, a fact he could barely cope with. He had made himself defenseless, vulnerable before his wife, and she had done all in her power to destroy him. He only wanted to help her, but she did not believe him. Worse, she mistook his act of love as perversion. Why? Simply because she refused to believe that a man could be anything but a simpleminded beast.

He was silent, and time passed. Raven spoke again.

"If you want to make me happy, leave me alone," she said tranquilly. Her voice was very quiet, but in the silence of the room, Beast Boy caught every blistering word as if it had been shouted.

Beast Boy swallowed thickly and cast his eyes up at Raven, the look unsettling the empath. If his eyes were the portal to his soul, then he was truly more forsaken and hopeless than she. A whisper of a thought chilled her core. What had she done?

And then he was gone. Turned into a fly and fled the room. Raven did not flinch for many minutes, her ears and eyes straining for a sign that Beast Boy was coming back. She half wanted him to come back, but he didn't. Raven curled into a ball and wept bitterly.

TT

Roger Newman held what was left of Beast Boy's vial of blood in his trembling hand, cradling the glass tube delicately. He was truly a monster for what he was about to do. He was about to forsake all he stood for as a scientist, a father and an American citizen, but his hands were tied. Even if he were to disappear forever, his family would be in mortal peril.

But there was a flicker of hope: Perhaps he could alert the Teen Titans somehow of what was about to transpire? Then again, what if the villain would be checking in on his progress, or even (the thought made him shudder) watching him as he went about his task? He would need to be flawlessly cautious if he wanted to get away with warning Beast Boy of the grave danger he faced. Or maybe there wasn't a way to get away with saving the poor superhero, but if he could die to protect both his family and poor Beast Boy, he would.

A tenuous plan was already beginning to form in Newman's mind as he dialed his wife's cell phone number and told her to expect him home late.

--

Review please. It'll make me happier than a monkey in a banana bread factory.

And I'm really excited for the chapters to come, so stick around. I promise I'll try to keep the intensely science-y bits to an absolute minimum, as to not bore my entire readership to tears.

Also, I've recently decided to offer my services as a beta reader, if anyone's interested. Just talk to me, hm?

Thanks for reading!