Author's Note: Ok, so here's my story. I had this and it was on a role and like three pages away from done a good month ago. Then it hit me that school was coming and my homework was not done! So I panicked and told myself no fun writing until I finished my non-fun writing. But I didn't want to do the non-fun writing so I just didn't do any writing at all and hence got stuck in a hole of causality and pain. Then, I decided, sometimes it is necessary to break promises to one's self in order to make some form of progress. So here you go! Shorter, because I decided to stop giving you all headaches from hours of reading off a screen, but still substantially long and satisfying. Have fun!

Disclaimer: No time! Must do homework! I don't own it! I'm not making a profit! Leave me alone... *twitch, twitch*

Raven lay awake in her bed, violet eyes wide open, unwavering gaze fixed on the crooked hands of her clock as they jerked in circles. 3:07:59 a.m.- scratch that, 3:08:00 a.m. The Titans had brought their two 'prisoners' back to the Tower at 9:32 p.m. the previous night and locked them up in separate rooms. Everyone had been both physically and mentally worn out, so that in itself had been tedious, if not painfully slow, like the lecture in your least favorite class that seems to drag on and on into oblivion until you think it might be preferable to pull a cheese grater across your forehead than sit still and listen for another minute. She'd been in charge of Zinara, which meant getting her back, getting her into the 'safe room', and, unfortunately, getting her dressed. The woman had enough hair to form a ball gown as it was, but that didn't change the fact that she was from ancient Greece and half siren and therefore without human attire. The Titans didn't have much in the way of spare clothing, excluding spare uniforms, and Zinara was not wearing one of those. There were a few things laying round, outfits for whenever the Titan's decided to go out looking as normal as they could, which wasn't often. But the half-siren was, bluntly put, too skinny to fit properly into even Starfire's most petite party outfit. Nor did she have enough shape to fit into anything of Raven's. After digging through everyone's closet looking for something that wouldn't just fall off, she settled on one of Beast Boy's high-necked tee-shirts and shorts. It was only fitting, since he had been the one to bring her into their lives. It took immense amounts of patience, several visits to her happy place, and new holes punched into a belt, but Raven had managed to get the girl dressed and into the safe room. Cyborg had added a cot later and dumped Beast Boy into the interrogation room. High end captives, they had the two most secure rooms in the Tower to themselves.

Had the night ended there, it might have been bearable, but just catching and locking a person up was barely half the job. When the doors were secure, Raven had gone back to the museum exhibit to study the artifacts that her teammates hadn't damaged beyond recognition by throwing each other into them. That, at least, had gone quickly enough; Raven enjoyed finding information. She liked feeling prepared and knowing what had and was happening and why. She did not like having questions. It was a double-edged sword; to have questions meant she would find answers, and to have answers meant she needed questions. Her little expedition had proved useful in that it explained a lot of the 'what', but frustrating in that it left the 'why' in shadows. And it had told her nothing she didn't already know about Beast Boy. That was aggravating. Raven had returned to the Tower at 11:18 p.m. and the Titans had had a meeting to get every member (excluding Beast Boy, who was currently locked up in the interrogation room for safe keeping) up to speed. That had been, if anything, worse than the bringing everyone back to the Tower. Yes, it was a lot of information, but was the bulk of it really that difficult to comprehend? The answer was no, it was not that hard to understand. The problem was not with the information itself, but with the structure of the meeting. If Robin had been a little less of a control freak and just let her commence with an information download instead of playing 20 questions, things would have gone much quicker and smoother.

Sighing, Raven allowed herself a blink before continuing her staring contest with the clock face. It had been a long night; the meeting hadn't actually been that bad, comparatively. She was just irritable. Robin couldn't help being the way he was and besides, he was under as much strain as anybody. He needed to at least feel like he was in control, even as the world spun out around him. It was his way of coping with the stress, to tighten the reins and dig in his spurs. Raven understood and could even relate to the mind set on some level, after all, the two had much in common like that. They both liked to be in control, liked facts and hard evidence, and preferred a solitary, less emotional existence. On the flip side, they both needed the control they desired, had difficulty acknowledging their own feelings and accepting the feelings of others, and would drop everything, push everyone away and go it alone if they thought they had to without a second thought. They would break hearts to save lives and reject the world along with every living thing in it. And, they always thought they were right. So you could imagine that when Robin and Raven fought, really fought, all Hell broke loose. Yes, Raven knew exactly how he felt and why he needed to be in command and drag the Team along on a short leash, but it still irked her. 3:09:07 a.m.

Raven rolled onto her back, slapping her hands palms down onto the sheets and letting out a groan of frustration. The meeting had ended at 11:51 p.m. and Raven had settled in her bed at about 11:58 p.m. plus or minus 10 minutes, which meant she had been staring at her clock waiting for sleep to swoop down and carry her into the blissful realm of dreams for three hours, eleven minutes and probably about 17 seconds. Counting demonic, four-eyed black birds for over three hours. Sleep had not come, and she was running out of birds. Rolling her eyes, Raven flopped back onto her side and glared at the slowly twitching hands of the clock, as if it was their fault she couldn't sleep. 3:09:57 a.m. Wait, 3:09:58 a.m. 59... 3:10:00 a.m... 01...02...03. Tick, tick, slowly, slowly. Tediously. Moving almost backwards, moving to the right, running around in circles until something stopped them. It struck her just how wonderful it would feel to smash the aggravating thing into unrecognizable bits, but Raven was much too pragmatic for that. She wouldn't act in such an immature, irrational fashion. 3:10:18 a.m... 19... 20... Maybe just this once.

With a wicked, slightly crazed glint in her eye, Raven reached over and grabbed the clock, her long, pale fingers curling sharply around the curved edges. Smash it telekinetically, or use the old fashion method of throwing it manually against the wall? Either would achieve the goal of total destruction. At the very least the obnoxiously slow passage of time would be needed. Then maybe she would get some sleep. Grinning, Raven tightened her grip and lifted the little machine, preparing to throw. There was a rush of crazed excitement as wind rushed past her arm and she anticipated the pain of broken machinery against her palm. It was halfway down when she suddenly froze, locking her jaw in unadulterated vexation. With great effort she set the clock down gently, releasing it before it touched the table surface and pulling her arm back to her side. This was ridiculous; smashing the clock would do nothing. It wouldn't stop time or help her get to sleep. It wouldn't alleviate this twisted anxiety that kept gnawing at her stomach and heart. A broken clock might ease some of her frustration, but it would not so much as touch the root cause. As if anything could, anything but doing something about it. Of course, that was much easier said than accomplished. The root cause was rather complex, hard to put into words.

Simply put, Beast Boy, her friend and teammate, was locked in some corner because he had released a half-blooded siren who happened to be intent of somehow destroying the world from her thousand year imprisonment beneath the waves while under the influence of her mind-controlling song. And he had attacked his teammates and almost killed Robin and could very easily have fallen into complete insanity by now. And to top it off, she was laying on her bed, staring at her clock, without any solid information as to how or why any of it had happened or how to fix it (if there was a way at all), waiting for a slumber that would never come. He could be slipping away, ceasing to exist as this 'Other' slowly replaced him and filled the shell of his body, and she wasn't so much as trying to do a thing about it. And it wasn't that she was inactive because things weren't that bad. Things were very bad. There was more at stake here than just her ego. There was Earth, there was the Team. There was her reality, the way her life went and who was supposed to be there. He could leave forever. That siren could and had taken Beast Boy from the Titans. Beast Boy, her Beast Boy, the one she knew and loved!

A gasp caught in her throat and Raven blinked uncertainly, running the words through her mind again as if to taste them, testing their implications. The one she knew and loved... She sat bolt upright, here violet eyes wide and her throat tight. These words, they couldn't actually mean anything, right? It was just a saying, and a common one at that, not something that one should say only when they absolutely meant every single word of it from the bottom of their heart. Nothing binding or significantly emotional. Yet when the thought entered her mind, an unexpected jolt had shot through her chest, like electricity. It was strange, but not all together unfamiliar. That same electricity had rushed through her not too long ago. What was this sensation that was pouring through her, that had given her so much focus and brought her so close to Beast Boy that she could easily reach out, and touch his mind, and now kept her awake and unable to concentrate? Why was she so anxious? Why did she care so much?

Her breath had become slightly shallow; her heart beat somehow louder, pulsing strongly in her chest. Something was different, strange. She felt like she recognized this feeling, but what it was and where she knew it from were illusive as the white deer. They'd had weirdness before and she'd never had an emotional reaction this severe. She had never had much of an emotional reaction at all, actually. So what was it about this situation that had her so unnerved? What was it about Zinara that made her stomach burn every time she thought about how the siren had manipulated her friend? What was it about Beast Boy? She had to know.

Raven threw the sheets from her body and stood up in one fluid movement, tucking a stray hair behind her ear and making her way towards the chest of drawers. All she needed was a cloak, she slept in her leotard. There was only one way, only one thing she could do. She needed to talk to Beast Boy, now. There would be no answers, no sleep, and no peace until she knew what was happening to him and what it was doing to her. She glanced back at the clock as she fastened her deep blue cloak about her shoulders, its back laying flat on her bedside table. 3:11 a.m. Raven allowed herself a mildly amused grin as she pulled on her shoes and brushed through the door. They had said they wouldn't talk to Beast Boy or Zinara until the morning. Well, it was the morning, technically. Close enough anyway.

Beast Boy sat on his cot, hands clasped in his lap, bright emerald eyes staring into the nothingness at his feet. There were no windows in the interrogation room, not in the traditional sense. The room was circular, tall and thin; with a single light so far above him he couldn't tell if it was some kind of light bulb or one of Cyborg's creations. It wasn't on anyway. The walls were slick, solid plates of a very hard, very durable grey material that extended seamlessly up and around the chamber. At the center, exactly at the center, was a single chair, unremarkable at first glance but composed of the same material as the room and equipped with every known restraining device for any body type the Titans had managed to capture. The chair was facing the only irregularity in the walls surface: a window of sorts into the control center shielded with mirrored glass. All in all, not much to look at.

The party was in the control room. It was every interrogator's dream come true and every liar's worst nightmare. A technological marvel to boot and Robin's playground whenever they actually had a suspect. It was rare for the villains of Jump to leave any crime unclaimed, rarer still for the Titan's to be able to bring in the 'usual suspects' for questioning. So really, the multi-species lie detectors and magically enhanced persuasion devises were rather useless. But, man, were they fun to make and play with. He could remember when Robin had deemed construction necessary, all the heavy lifting, all the bashing and testing and long hours. Back when the Team had still been more of a shaky alliance, back when Raven had laughed at his jokes. Beast Boy couldn't tell you how many times he had rammed into these walls to make sure they could withstand any kind of blunt force or sat in that chair to test its capabilities on every mind in the known animal kingdom. They'd been tests, and as such he'd put everything he had into them. He'd never imagined actually being held captive in the room. There wasn't much room for escape to begin with, even less with it being designed to hold him specifically. Not that he wanted to. He knew he had attacked his teammates, broken into the museum, thoroughly freaked out his friends, and done several other things he wasn't particularly aware of. He also knew he needed to help Zinara, that what she was trying to accomplish wasn't evil, and that her pain was massive. So now he was stuck in between knowledge and instinct. What he was doing was wrong, he understood that much. But...

"Beast Boy." He jumped as Raven's disembodied voice echoed through the room, a low hum of concern beneath her usual monotone.

"Geez, Rae," he said, clutching his heart in a needlessly dramatic fashion. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry. We need to talk." Beast Boy let out a sigh and fell back onto his cot, staring unenthusiastically up at the ceiling.

"'Bout what?"

"You know what." There was a long charged silence as Beast Boy avoided responding and Raven bore down on him through the glass. "Beast Boy, You're not going anywhere and more importantly, neither am I. You might as well talk to me." Beast Boy let out a groan and rolled over onto his stomach, showing Raven his backside. He could almost see her folding her arms.

"I guess there's no way to get out of this," he said dejectedly after a while.

"Nope." There was another charged silence. Then Beast Boy rolled over and sat up, his emerald eyes fixing on the mirrored glass, as if he could see through it and was staring at Raven directly.

"What do you want to know?" he grumbled, fidgeting with the fabric of his pants.

"Everything."

"Heh! Join the club."

"Excuse me?"

"Look Rae. Things aren't as simple as you seem to think they are."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she seethed, annoyance dripping from her voice. Beast Boy was once again reluctant to answer. He bit his lip and ran his fingers through his already messed hair, looking away from the window evasively. "Well?"

"You're smart, why don't you figure it out?" he retorted suddenly, standing up and walking over to the wall opposite the window. Raven narrowed her eyes from the other side, leaning closer to the glass. This was turning out to be a bit more difficult than she had anticipated. Not that she had expected him to just tell her everything she had come to discover and more the moment she showed up, but a little less hostility would have been nice.

"Maybe I can't," she said in a low voice, her unblinking gaze never leaving his back. "Maybe I've been trying to figure it out and I can't. Maybe I need your help." He pressed his hands on the wall and rested his forehead in between them.

"Has it occurred to you that I might be just as confused as you?"

"No," Raven scoffed, turning around and leaning against the control panel, her arms crossed and her features hard. "However lost you think you are I promise I am more so. I've done as much research as I can and nothing explains what's going on."

"And you think I know?"

"I think you know more than you're willing to admit."

"So you've come down here to harass me until I give it up."

"Pretty much."

"Well I'm sorry, Rae, but if you want answers, I'm not the one you should be talking to."

"So who should I be talking to?" No answer. Raven turned around to look back down into the interrogation room. Beast Boy had assumed the position she'd been occupying not three seconds before. He was casually leaning against the wall, his arms and ankles crossed in a very relaxed fashion, his eyes staring straight up at her, as if he could see right through his own reflection. His mouth was twisted in what was unmistakably frustration and there was a foreign glint in his eyes that was becoming all too familiar. She hadn't really noticed before, but he was looking rather ragged. There were little tears in his uniform here and there, mostly across his stomach and along his arms and his gloves were in ruins. His fingertips were poking out like he was wearing hobo gloves, revealing his rather claw-like nails. Like his fangs, these were small and unassuming but still very noticeable. Raven had never realized he possessed claws, but now, with his hands tense and uncovered, they were hard not to notice. "Beast Boy?" He refused to so much as blink; his stare was unwavering. She sighed heavily, rolling her eyes at what she perceived as his immaturity. "I'm coming down."

"You're what" Beast Boy yelped, straightening abruptly and almost falling over. The glint in his eyes had vanished and he was no longer staring at her. Yes, he was still staring up at the window, but his eyes were staring at a spot so far away from where Raven stood that it was apparent that he didn't have the slightest idea where she was. At least, not anymore. When she didn't reply, he walked over to the chair at the center and threw himself into it, pouting."Fine. Sure, whatever. It's not going to help anything."

"We'll see," she said calmly, moving to the stairwell out of the control center. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Beast Boy's movement and paused. "Beast Boy, there's no reason to follow procedure. You're not a criminal and I'm far from defenseless."

"No, it's fine," said Beast Boy in mock understanding, placing his hands on the arm rests. "Robin'll have a fit if he so much as suspected you and I were 'unprofessional' or you were 'putting yourself at risk'." He sighed dramatically and slouched a bit, pushing his lips to one side in what was unmistakably a pout. When nothing happened he looked up at where he thought Raven was and gave her a small, tolerant grin. "Seriously, I don't mind." Raven pursed her lips and watched him intently, trying to see if he was being sarcastic or not. His expression betrayed nothing passed mild disinterest as his fingers drummed lightly on the chair arms.

He clearly had no intention of resisting and actually appeared to want to follow the rules, for once. With a snort she reached back and pressed a large, red button quickly before she brushed through the doorway. A green light popped on inside of the interrogation room itself, right above the mirrored window and a pair of sleek restraints sprung from the chair and bound Beast Boy's wrists, making it quite impossible for him to move, get up, or otherwise appear threatening. He let out a resigned sigh and shifted uncomfortably; wishing Raven would hurry and get this over with. Normally he very much enjoyed spending time with Raven, but recently she'd gotten so... pushy. Nothing unexpected, tell a control freak there are things they not only have no say it, but can't know anything about and they're bound to get a little edgy. Does that mean it wasn't obnoxious? No.

"So... is there any particular reason you made this special visit at three in the morning or were you just unable to resist my charm?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I merely want answers."

"Yeah, you mentioned that. Couldn't you have waited till morning? You know, when we're not stoned off sleep loss?"

"I didn't see the logic in putting it off."

"Couldn't sleep, could ya?" Raven crossed her arms, shifting uncomfortably and moving over so she was directly across from Beast Boy.

"No," she finally admitted in a low monotone. He smiled at her almost proudly, as if grateful she had trusted him with that information.

"Me neither." They sat in silence for a while, but it wasn't like before. It was a calm, comfortable, reflective silence; like the two were empathizing with each other. "I keep going over it in my head," Beast Boy finally muttered, staring at something past his right foot introspectively.

"Going over what?"

"Everything. Everything that's happened. Everything I've done."

"You remember it?"

"Not really remembering. It's more like... thinking about a dream. Sometimes there's just a blur of sound and color, sometimes there's only images. Then there are moments when it almost feels, I don't know, real."

"Real?" Raven's voice was emotionless and questioning, skeptical, as if she doubted everything he was saying despite the fact that it was from the horse's mouth, so to speak. Not to mention the only description she had.

"Real. Like, I was actually there."

"You were there." He didn't say anything for a long time, but his eyes narrowed and he stared even harder at his foot, as if the right words were written there if he could only see them.

"Yes I was, and I wasn't. It's all so weird!" His hands coiled into fists and he made a face like he wanted to tug at his hair.

"I understand that," Raven said as softly as she could. "But I need to know what happens to you. Beast Boy, I need to understand what happened yesterday." Beast Boy swallowed and gave her a pained look. Nonetheless, he kept talking in a low voice.

"It's like...I was there, talking to you, and then I heard Zinara singing and suddenly I was watching the world with a strobe light on. You know, in flashes."

"So you don't remember arguing with me? You don't remember what you did right before you left?" There was an indignant edge to her voice, either about the kiss itself or the fact that he'd forgotten it.

"No," Beast Boy yipped quickly, giving her a hard look. "No I remember... that. It's afterward that things start to get blurry." Raven knitted her eyebrows and inclined her head slightly in his direction, as if to tell him to continue. He sighed heavily, licking his lips to moisten them. "I remember talking to you and then I was at the museum, talking to Robin, and then I was on top of you, with my jaw around your neck, ready to take your head off. Then Robin attacked Zinara, my head exploded, and I woke up here." His voice grew increasingly heavier as he spoke, so by the time he mentioned Robin for the second time it was laced with bitterness. Raven reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose, letting her eyes close as she attempted to decide how to proceed. Was she getting information: yes. Was it what she wanted to hear? Not by a long shot.

"Beast Boy, he didn't attack her," she sighed, not looking at him. "Robin touched her shoulder and she collapsed. He wasn't trying to hurt her."

"Oh, don't give me that," he snapped, tugging at his restraints without realizing it. "Ever since this started all Robin's wanted to do is keep her locked up!"

"That may be true, but that doesn't mean he wants her dead. He's just trying to do what's-"

"Best for the city. Yeah, I've heard this speech before." Raven let out a patronizing sigh and decided to take the high road and drop it. Beast Boy didn't really notice. He was staring off into space again. "She was almost here, almost out," He said pensively. "And he jerked the rest of the way before she was ready. And that hurt."

"All right, I can see how physical contact might affect someone in the middle of inter-dimensional transit in that manner," Raven said, rubbing her brow as she tried to piece things together in a way that made sense. Beast Boy raised his eyebrows, rolled his eyes, and let his head fall back tiredly, not even trying to ask what on Earth she was talking about. "But why would you feel it? Why you at all?"

"Because I heard her."

"The rest of us aren't deaf; that doesn't explain anything." Beast Boy furrowed his brow and licked his lips, looking for the right words, even though his expression made it plain that he felt he'd already dumbed it down enough.

"Raven," he started, looking like he dearly wanted to fidget with something. "I'm not entirely human, not anymore." Raven frowned in confusion and Beast Boy squirmed uncomfortably, preparing himself for what was undoubtedly going to be a very personal conversation. "You may or may not know this, but I was born completely normal. Blond hair, blue eyes, cute little baby fat, the works. The only weird thing about little Garfield was that his parents were geneticists who brought him to Africa so they could work. Life was totally normal, but then I got sick. I don't really know how, heck, I barely know what I had, but my dad managed to make it better and the next thing I knew I was green and could turn into animals. I mean, I turned into a mongoose and saved my mom from a snake like a week afterward or something." He let out a forced chuckle and checked to see if Raven was satisfied. The word 'relevance' was forming on her lips. Beast Boy kept talking, looking harassed.

"The point is, when I stopped being sick, I stopped being fully human. Even in this form I have animal traits." He gave her a quick grin to flash his fangs and stretched his clawed fingers discreetly. "You know that I have sharper senses than a normal dude. What you probably don't realize is that I can sense things beyond the human range. I have twice as many scent receptors in my nose, you know."

"Does your sense of smell have something to do with the half-blooded siren we have locked up in the Safe Room?"

"Come on, Rae! I hear way above and below what the normal human ear can. We live in a tower on an island in the bay. Zinara was only a few miles out to sea; I could hear her singing. No one else had the physical ability. That's why me. Because I can and you can't!" This statement did not have the intended effect. Instead of giving Raven the answers she needed and aggravating her into leaving, the new information seemed to sprout new curiosity in her and a little triumphant light came on in her eyes.

"So she only affects you because you can hear her singing?" There was an oddly excited note in Raven's voice, like a child who'd just been told Christmas was in a week.

"I guess," shrugged Beast Boy, raising his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion. "That's all I know about how it works, you'd have to ask her for the details. Why?" All of a sudden, before Beast Boy even realized she had moved actually, Raven was right in front of him, her hands flying across the metal that bound his right wrist to the chair. "What are you doing," he yelped, trying to lurch away from her.

"I'm getting you out of this," she stated simply as the band snapped off. Without hesitating, Raven moved on to the one that held his left wrist, her eyes fixed on her work. "Then I'm taking you so far away from here that you'll need a satellite phone to contact anyone within ten miles of that Siren." Beast Boy's eyes widened as she said that and his face contorted into an expression somewhere between horror and hysterics.

"Raven. Raven, stop!" Beast Boy pulled his free hand away from the chair and placed it on Raven's busy fists, holding them still. She tried to tug away, completely ignoring him, but his grip was surprisingly firm. "Stop," he repeated.

"Why? What's the matter with you?" Anger slipped into her voice alongside the all ready present frustration and vexation. He closed his eyes and bit his lip.

"Raven, I get what you're trying to do. I know this scares you and I know you don't understand why I'm helping her. I know you think I being mind controlled or something so you're trying to keep me safe and away from Zinara. And maybe it would have worked before, but not now. Not after last night," he breathed cryptically into her hear. She shot him a fierce look and tried vainly to finish her work. He tightened his grip and then, making a resigned sound in the back of his throat, he pried one of her hands off the arm, holding it in his. Hesitantly, maybe even uncertainly, he pressed it to his chest, holding her palm over his heartbeat. Raven shot him a suspicious look but didn't pull away from the rhythm playing beneath her fingertips. It was slower than she had expected, strong and regular. There wasn't a hint of stress, no fear or worry; careless and comforting in its own way. "That's me," he said quietly, holding her questioning gaze.

"This is her." Slowly, he slid her hand down his chest to his stomach. At first she didn't understand what he was talking about. Then he breathed, and as his abdomen expanded against her palm she felt something.

"What the," Raven gasped as the pulse came again, and again. Another beat, too slow to be a bird's bit much too fast to be much bigger than one, was beating inside of Beast Boy, down where no heart was supposed to be. Raven jerked back in shock, pulling free of his grip and taking a step away from Beast Boy, giving him a shaken look. He gave her a small, apologetic grin. "What is going on?" she demanded in a firm voice.

"I'm what's keeping her alive now, keeping her here," he tried to explain, his hand still pressed over Zinara's heartbeat. "Until she can finish what she started." His voice dropped off oddly and he began to stare off into space again, looking almost conflicted.

"What does that mean? Beast Boy, what are you going?" He looked down guiltily, his jaw set and his resolve firm. "Garfield!"

"Don't ask, Raven. I can't talk about it so just don't ask."

"Can't talk about it? Since when do you take orders from her?" A fury she didn't know she was capable of was swelling up inside of Raven, burning her throat like bile and sharpening her voice to a deadly point. He glanced over at her, looking almost ashamed. "You know what she's planning, don't you. You know what she's going to do."

"Raven, it's not as bad as you think," he implored, reaching out to her with the one hand. She slapped it away, grabbing the chair arms and staring straight into his face.

"And just how bad do I think it is, Beast Boy? What's going on? What does she want and why does she need the Half Heart to get it? Tell me the truth."

"Raven, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because they're not my secrets to tell!"

"What are you, her lap dog now?" He was startled, staring into her eyes in a very stunned manner.

"What did you just call me?" The intention had been to sound threatening and cold, but only the hurt came through. She didn't care, she was far too angry to be concerned with the wounds of her words. After all, they were designed to hurt.

"The Garfield Logan I know doesn't give a rat's about privacy or secrets. He'll waltz into anyone's room when they're not around, regardless of whether or not he's been explicitly told to stay out. He'll trust any idiot on the streets with personal information, his and others. He'll tell you things you never wanted to know in the name of being open and honest." He hung his head, staring at his lap and wishing for the first time that she would just go away. She didn't.

"Do you know what Zinara said when she first saw me?" Raven asked icily. "She called me a half-breed. Now I'm not one to usually care about derogatory terms associated with my lineage, but I can't help but wonder how she found out about it? My demon heritage isn't immediately apparent to most, so I just have to assume someone told her. Now who do you suppose that might be?"

"Raven, stop, it's not what you think."

"Really? So what is it then? Because I can't help but wonder what else she knows about me. Which of my secrets she might be privy to. How much she knows about all of us; our strengths, weaknesses, vulnerabilities. Now tell me, Beast Boy, were those your secrets to tell?"

"Raven!"

"So in the end she knows what you tell her about us and we know what you tell us about her. But there's a problem, Beast Boy. You won't tell us anything about Zinara. You won't tell us what she's planning, what she can do, or even where she came from."

"Raven, please don't do this. I can't tell you!"

"Can't or won't." Beast Boy didn't know what to say to that. "I never expected you to hurt your friends. I thought you were the goof ball, unsophisticated yet kind hearted and loyal. I thought you were my friend, someone who would watch over me and be there for me whenever I needed you."

"Raven I am your friend-" She cut him off, her whisper razor sharp and clear in the silence.

"But I misjudged you. You know what you are. What you've allowed yourself to become?" Raven leaned in closer, preparing the final blow. "You're a traitor, Beast Boy. The bad guy's puppet." Raven felt him go ridged in his chair, heard his breath quicken sharply. "You're just like Terra."

Just as Raven began to pull away, intent on leaving him until guilt or something similar ate him up inside and he spilled everything to her, Garfield grabbed her around the neck, holding her close. He pressed his nose into her hair and inhaled, grinning, his eyes glinting emerald. "Now, there's no reason to be insulting or poke at... sensitive spots," he sneered.

"Beast Boy," Raven gasped, holding herself as still as she could. She felt his snort brush past her ear.

"Not the one you know." Before she could so much as blink he'd thrown her back as easily as if she weighed three pounds, causing her to stumble. Raven caught herself against the wall, rubbing her neck and staring absolutely confounded. Garfield smirked eerily, snapping off the second restraint and cracking his wrists. "You really should get your facts straight. I'm actually rather surprised; you usually don't waste your time on pointless things like chastising the wrong guy."

"Who are you?!"

"Come on Rae," he mocked, standing up and advancing on her. "I'm the traitor."