Author's Note: First, I would like it noted that I did, in fact, update the day after Thanksgiving. I finished Chapter 8 and reposted it, it just didn't show up as an update. Second, I was totally almost finished with this chapter, like, three weeks ago, but then my computer fried itself and erased all software, including Chapter 9. So there I was, not very happy, with a vastly superior opening scene gone and a set back the size of Texas. I had to go back and completely rewrite it, with no point of reference,one week till our week long holiday concert, and two filled to the brim, frenzied weeks till finals. So, bearing that in mind, I hope you can forgive the less than fabulous quality and dinkyness of this chapter and continue reading the story despite the obvious slow downs in updates. Bear with me, I'm trying

Disclaimer: Sorry, not time to come up with a clever way to say I don't own Teen Titans, I've gotta go on a road trip to Texas.

Beast Boy barely waited for his door to close before he slammed his back into it, allowing himself to just slide down onto the floor. He felt like he should have been angry, like he was supposed to yell and throw things, but he couldn't. He felt like he was supposed to cry, like he was supposed to scream, but he found he couldn't do that either. What were people supposed to do when someone broke their heart? Hadn't he already listed all the things you were supposed to do, or feel? If that was true, if he wasn't doing anything of these things, did that mean Raven hadn't just driven a knife strait through his ribs? That couldn't be right. If he didn't have a broken heart, then why did he feel so... broken? His hands were resting limply on the ground, his eyes gazing at the mirror across from him blankly.

He was an idiot. That was all there was to it. An idiot for trying to tell her, an idiot for trying to keep her safe, an idiot for falling for her in the first place. Absently, he played with the carpet, plucking at the short hairs and attempting to wrap them around his finger. She was probably still staring at the door, wondering what he was on. Or she was calling Robin, telling him that he was 'acting strangely'. Yeah, that was going to help everything, make everything better. He gripped the carpet, trying vainly to understand why. That would be easy, pretending there it was just a random incident, teenage moodiness, nothing that meant anything. It would be insanely easy for her to just believe he was being paranoid and she happened to be around, that he hadn't meant what he said. Things could be the way they were, just like that. He let his eyes close, let his chin fall onto his chest. She would do it too, just ignore the entire argument, Raven would pretend it didn't happen. He could go right back and strike up a conversation and the best he could hope for would be a strange look before she went back to whatever she happened to be doing.

But he couldn't do that. Maybe Raven could ignore her feelings, bury them beneath a cold expression, but he wasn't Raven. He had meant everything he said; granted, he didn't really understand half of it, but he meant it. Something was going to happen, she was going to get hurt, and he was going to be the reason. That was all he knew for sure, that was all he needed to know. But clearly it wasn't enough for Raven, she had to try and find some deeper meaning, tried to rationalize it. There was nothing rational about a feeling, but try telling that to a telekinetic hero. And what would Cyborg say? Robin? Even Starfire would think there was something wrong with him. Beast Boy the comedian never worried about his friends, and if he did, he certainly never said anything about it. He made bad jokes, patted himself on the back, and annoyed everyone just for kicks. Then again, Beast Boy didn't go for random swims, Beast Boy didn't have gaping holes in his memory, Beast Boy didn't hear music that no one else could hear.

He pushed himself to his feet, staring intently at his reflection, examining the green skin, the pointed ears, the lone fang that had a tendency to poke out of his mouth because it didn't quite fit. His hair poked out in all directions, just like it always did, his outfit hugged him, though not quite as tightly as Robin's, his eyes were a dark emerald green, just like they always were. But there was something there, something amiss, as if there was a stranger in his skin. It was Beast Boy in his reflection, those were his eyes, his hands, his face, his hair, his body. Definitely Beast Boy, yet not. There was something... feminine about the way he was standing, something rather bird like about the way his head was tilted, some shimmer of yellow behind his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to blink the image away, but it was still there, almost smirking at him when he looked back. Timidly, as if it might shock him when he made contact, he touched the glass. His reflection mimicked him, like it should have, but there was still something off.

A slow, soft hum started from no place in particular, weaving its way into his mind. It surrounded him, dancing in the air, vibrating inside of him. The song soothed him, like a mother, a lover's whisper, calming his brief unrest, pushing all thought of how or why he was there from his mind. For a moment, he relaxed into it, letting himself sink into this bizarre, yet familiar feeling. Why was he even worrying at all? What had he even been thinking a moment ago? Did that even matter? His hand fell to his side, his eyes slid out of focus. But wait, why was he there? And what had he been doing. Raven, he had been with Raven. They were talking- no, fighting, and not just their normal banter, full out, yelling, actual problem fighting. But what about, what was that problem? What had he told her? An intense pain began to swell in his chest, like something was compressing his ribs, his throat. What had she told him? He couldn't breath, couldn't understand. The song pushed against the feeling, trying vainly to chill his burning blood, it tried to make him forget the pain. Let it go, let her go. Disparately, he tried to ignore the melodic voice. Forget her, forget Raven. He pressed his hands against the mirror, shoving himself away from it ruffly, gritting his teeth. Pain exploded in his head, like he had just ripped an arrow out of it, he fell backwards onto the ground. His breath came in sharp gasps, his fingers curled in his hair. This thing, this song, it had pulled him out of the Tower, into the ocean, and God knew where else. It had wiped his memory clean, called to him, made him consider doing things that any sane person would find completely insane. He wasn't OK with all of that, but he could handle it, he could deal with it. But this music, this voice in his head would not make him forget about Raven, not even the smallest, most insignificant, minute detail. Nothing would. And yet, there he was, on the floor with the worst headache of his life after a week of forgetting, and he still wasn't entirely sure how he got there.

"What's wrong with me," he hissed through clenched teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. His head was pounding, fragmenting every thought that crossed his mind, his body was beginning to ache, and he felt nauseous. But at least the music had stopped, leaving him in blissful silence, if only for a moment. He chanced a glance at his reflection, afraid of what he might see, but unsure why. Nothing made sense. There it was, sitting on the floor across from him, clutching its head, returning his stare. But it was grinning coyly, its emerald eyes brightening to a predatory yellow with slitted pupils. "What is this," he gasped, rather shrilly, scooting away from the glass. His reflection did not mimic him like it should have. It grinned at him and stood up, brushing its pants casually as it did so.

"Garfield," said the voice from his mind sweetly. "This is us. I told you, we're bonded, you'll never have to be alone again." His reflection stepped closer to the glass, still grinning that bird-like grin. "There is nothing wrong with you." The voice was soothing, oddly persuasive. "It's all right."

"What are you, how are you..." Beast Boy tried to demand, but his voice lacked any kind of firmness. His reflection continued to grin, examining itself absently. Slowly, as if someone had splashed water onto a canvas of water colors, the image began to blur and fade. His room, his body, his face, all colors began to run and morph into something new, something familiar. Only the eyes stayed the same, constantly clear as the face around them changes. Large, thin lips and pale skin began to emerge, a small, thin body began to construct itself, long, dusty brown hair rushed from large pools on the floor to a scalp. Feathers spotted the locks, talons served as hands and feet. His room melted into a large, bubble draped in white cloth. Light danced on the floor as if filtered through water, swaying rhythmically. Before him stood a girl about his age, completely alien, yet strangely familiar, in a bizarre room that was so definitely not his own that under any other circumstances it would have been funny.

"Who are you, what do you want?" She laughed, a sound somewhere between a ringing chord and wind chimes that made his head spin and butterflys take off in his stomach.

" Zinara," she replied lightly. There was something very familiar about her, something he couldn't quite place. He frowned at her, still not getting up. The pain had stopped, but there was still a buzzing sound he couldn't quite block out. Raven had tried to teach the team to shield their minds from unwelcome visitors who might extract sensitive information from them, but he had always been terrible at that. Maybe that was why she was there, she was after something, wanted something he knew. Robin would eat him for dinner if he let this girl into the Tower. Beast Boy closed his eyes and tried to focus on quieting the buzz. The laugh came again, shattering every hope at concentration along with the entire train of thought. "Garfield, I'm not here to steal your secrets. They're hardly interesting to me, well, at least the ones you're thinking about."

"Then what do you want," he shot back, snapping his eyes open and giving her his most intense glare.

"We'll have to do something about that memory of yours," Zinara mused absently, kneeling in front of him. "It was necessary to keep them from you before, but now I can keep the empath out of your memories. Your friends would not approve of us, so we wouldn't be safe if she knew."

"Hello, I'm still here you know," pouted Beast Boy, oddly relaxed around this Zinara. "And I still have no clue what you're talking about."

"Yes you do," she said. "Think. I called to you, and you came. You were the first to make it, to survive the trip."

"You asked for my help," he said tentatively, frowning slightly. "You told me you needed me."

"That's right, Garfield. You said you'd help me find what they stole."

"Why couldn't I remember that before," he asked.

"I've shielded your memory of our encounters thus far, to protect you."

"Protect me? From what?"

"Those memories could have hurt you, or caused others to hurt you. Your friends would have locked you up if they found out, they would have called you crazy."

"I'm seeing people in my mirror... and talking to them. I am crazy."

"No," she snapped, rather sharply, causing him to flinch away. "No, you're not. You can see me because we're bonded, you can hear me because you have heightened hearing. You don't deserve to be tucked away in some little padded room because you're different." Her voice held more than a slight trace of bitterness. "I had to make you forget."

"You're the one, the one who was trying to make me forget just now," Beast Boy demanded, the smallest trace of anger in his voice. Zinara stood up, giving him a calculating look.

"Yes," she said after a minute.

"Why," he said sharply, pushing himself up and advancing towards the mirror. Zinara didn't flinch, merely stared at him."Why did you think I needed to forget Raven?"

"I wasn't trying to make you forget the Half-breed," protested Zinara, folding her arms. "Just the fight."

"Why?" He pressed his hands against the glass, as if he could fall right through to confront Zinara in person.

"She hurt you. What she said to you, what she did, inflicted unnecessary pain. I was trying to make it better." She blinked up at him, yellow eyes defiant, but honest. "I don't want to see you in pain."

"You don't need to make me forget everything that ever hurt me," Beast Boy said, looking slightly annoyed, but his anger had already begun to fade. He could understand her intentions, her methods were just a little off.

"I'm sorry Garfield." She smiled up at him, the slightest of blushes tinging her pale cheeks. "The truth is, you're the first person I've talked to in... along time. I'm not sure what to do anymore."

"Why, where are you," he asked, cocking his head curiously.

"I'm here," she said, gesturing to her surroundings. "But I don't know where here is. They imprisoned me a long time ago, and set it to drift in the seas."

"What did you do," Beast Boy asked, flinching at the hurt look on her face as soon as the words left his mouth. "I mean, I've locked people up before, but they've always committed some kind of crime, or done something to deserve it."

"I was born. Simple as that," she snorted. "I was born an abomination, a freak, different, so they imprisoned me in here and hid the key."

"I'm sorry," he apologized for no reason in particular, looking at anything but her. "I didn't know, I mean, I-" Something cut him off mid sentence, gentile pressure lifting his chin, bringing his gaze back to Zinara's yellow eyes.

"None of that matters now," she cooed softly, a soft hum rumbling in the back of her throat.

"Now there is only one thing that is important."

"Finding what they stole from you," he answered, almost before he could fully comprehend the meaning of her words. "I need to find it and free you."

"You know where it is, don't you. I saw it before, through your eyes," she probed eagerly, leaning closer to the glass herself.

"Jump City Museum's new exhibit, the one featuring the Mediterranean artifacts."

"You must be discrete, you can't tell your friends about this. If they discover our plans, they will try and stop us. They must not know it is you." He nodded, letting his eyes close. It all made such perfect sense, seemed so unquestionably logical. Zinara was right, he couldn't tell the other Titans, they wouldn't understand, they'd just try and stop him. No, he had to find a way around them, a way to the Half Heart. "You know what to do, go." His eyes snapped open, no longer a vibrant emerald green, but a glowing golden yellow that looked absolutely putrid against his green skin, his pupils wide slits. With no more than a brief glance to make sure his door was closed, he lept out of his window and disappeared into the sunset.