Author's Note: So what is this? Two years later? Three? Well, that's a little embarrassing… but you know me: quality over promptness. And lord was the quality tough on this one. As you may recall, I had this chapter practically done, twice, way back when. Then multiple hard drive crashes ensued, and it wasn't until after the second that I learned about backing things up. I did try, a great deal, but on write number three everything just kept coming out stale. Nothing sounded right, no one was in character, and the whole thing read stiff and overly rehearsed. So I backed away for a little bit and let it simmer. And slowly things started flowing again, one or two paragraphs or lines of dialogue at a time. Painfully slowly, actually, but at least I was writing again! There are a few key moments that have been planned since this story's conception back when I was just a tot that thought four pages made a substantial chapter. Most of it, though, bares no resemblance to those first two drafts, and I think it's actually better for it. And it benefitted from some of my life experience. All that to say, sorry to be late, but I did promise closure and here it is! Thank you for all the support, encouragement, and patience! It's been a great ride and I hope you've all enjoyed this work.
PS. Epilogue is forthcoming
Disclaimer: Ten years later and I'm still not making a profit! Or claiming anything that is not of my own creation. Still not my intention to violate or infringe upon any laws, etc. And all that jazz.
When I was still a child, I did not know I was a freak. I was unaware of humans or sirens or hybrids. It did not seem strange to me that I had scales and my father did not, nor that I had talons and he fingers. I never questioned the feathers in my hair or the sea-song in my throat. I did not understand the greater context of the world, or that there even was a world beyond our hilltop. I was just a child, and there were only two people in the universe: my father and myself. And there was nothing strange about that.
I did not know the words "mother" or "friend" or "enemy." I did not know "people" or "them" because such things had no place in my mind. They did not-could not, exist. How could a small stone home on a small, steep hilltop such as ours hold more than two? It would burst at the seams and drain like water into the sea. Fracture and disintegrate like dust in the wind. There was no space for more, no food for more, and absolutely no love for more. So these things could not exist; the world wouldn't hold them. The void where these words should have gone was filled by that certainty.
Looking back now, I realize such notions were foolish. Naïve. Yet they were the fabric of my reality; perhaps, in an odd way, they still are. I have been many places and seen many things, but in all that time the world never got any bigger. It's still just a stone cottage on a hill and these experiences are nightmares dreamt up as I stare out into the ocean fog. For thousands of years I have expected to awaken from this twisted fantasy, knowing that such will never happen. My innocent days with my father are the dream. The memory. It's the cruelty of people, their injustices and prejudices that compose the truth of things. After all, what is truth if not what the majority believes? What is fact but the irrefutable harshness of reality?
When one is faced with such brutality, one has little choice but to curl up in despair. Accept it and die. I learned there is no happiness in truth; there is no comfort in reality. I take no pleasure in my conclusions, nor should I. It is the purpose of honesty to cause pain, to gnaw on our insides until we buckle into submission. I never wanted to understand such things or lead a life that leant itself to their discovery. Often times I wished for little more than a bleak death, as empty and meaningless as my life. Would you believe that I cried? Would you believe that I sobbed until everything around me lay dead, then fought the tears because the sorrow of taking life was so much greater than my own hollow torment. I could not die with them.
For years- decades, I wondered, sometimes sheltered but never taken in. It was the same. Wherever I went and whoever I was with it was the same. Eventually I learned to expect nothing of my father's enduring tenderness from either myself or other people. Only his final treachery seemed to be common among humans. I left before they betrayed me or I betrayed them, sullen in my own selfish existence. Sometimes I begged for the end, wondering if it even existed for me. Wondering if the sin of my life was truly so great that I deserved eternity. Even if I did find an exception, a someone to live for besides myself, what good would it do? They would eventually fade and I would persist. I would persist 'till everything crumbled into nothing and the sun burnt the oceans.
To say I could not die would be only partially correct. In loneliness and void I found the other face of truth, as irrefutable as its twin but at the same time gentle, subtle. You see, through everything, as relentless as my life itself, there was regret. For a long time I fought it, pretended it wasn't there, it didn't exist, but the truth of fact is only matched by the truth of feelings. I regretted ever having a father who cared for me. I regretted ever knowing that little cottage on that little hilltop. I wished I'd been born from a stone and raised by a mountain, never knowing the intimacies or joys of family and humanity. I latched onto that feeling, that aching hole in my soul, because to have a hole, there had to be something there before. The pain I felt now was proof I had once known home and love; that these things existed. They were possible even for one as wretched and ostracized as myself. And if love was possible, why not death?
I found the Half Heart in a circle of stones, an abandoned relic left by the People of the Sea. With it came a future, a dream of contentment I had long since forgotten. The truths of fact and emotion, of light and darkness came together as tingling magic fluttered in my hands. If my own father could abandon me, despite our kinship, despite my innocence, then the only tie of significance must be humanity itself. He was human, I was not, and that made us enemies in the end. That's what I chose to believe. But this… could change everything. The world in which people like me could exist free of pain, a world were it was odd to be normal and the outcast could be accepted was suddenly possible. With acceptance came contentment… for everyone. The epiphany came to me in a whirl, my disgust for this reality melding with ever-present hope for something better. The magic was not difficult to understand and even less so to master. In an instant I gained something I'd never really had: purpose. Destiny. It set fire to my blood and frenzy to my mind. So much so that, until this moment, I forgot what I was really seeking. I believed myself to be unique, unlike other abandoned people.
In those days of my youth I knew nothing… and yet everything. When my father smiled at me, when he approved of me, I knew happiness. When he held me, in his arms or by the hand, I knew safety. And as I clung to him I knew fear. The true terror of loss, of rejection, of him letting go. When he left I knew pain.
That's why I chose Garfield, I think. Yes, his abilities were convenient, and society's shun was a burden we shared. But there was- is, something even more powerful about him: a kindness so like my father's. He looked at me without judgment and my pain hurt him so much he was willing to risk everything to help me. And the steel in his heart… it wasn't until I met that steel that I remembered innocence. What it was like to have someone else's protection. Before I realized it he'd become my certainty and my resolve. When he spoke his words displaced truth and, even though I knew better, I let it happen. I knew in my heart it was selfish and… wrong, but for the first time in thousands of years, my world seemed full again. A shadow of its former self, a cheep mockery of the joys in my memory, but full nonetheless. For the first time in a long time, I did not want to die.
So I let it out. I let the iron structure of his soul become a shell of armor, let it encase his kindness and subjugate his purity. I wanted to keep him safe, unblemished by the filth of our mission. I had to use him, but I never wanted to involve him… never wanted to diminish his innocence. At the same time I needed his strength- not Garfield's strength, but that of the iron. It knew no doubts and its single-minded intent seemed to justify everything I asked it to do. Even as I faltered and hesitated… reconsidered, the iron was there to hold me fast. And I let it happen. For the sake of the little half-breed girl crying on the little hill of my memories, for the destiny I believed I had, for the glorious rebirth I thought I was bringing to the Earth, I let it happen.
It whispers, in his voice, all the words I want to hear. I don't believe them, not really, not in my heart. I have never believed them there, but when he holds me in his arms, smiling down at me that hollow grin of approval, a part of me has to. A part of me that is still that naïve little girl. A part of me that fears his disapproval more than anything in the world. What, exactly, do I want? What is it, then, that I have been seeking for so long? I don't know. I remember there was something, some reason, some resolution made by a child as she flung herself into the sea. But that knowledge got lost along the way, eroded to sand like a boulder through time. All that's left are the dreams; the memories of what I once had… and the hope Garfield gave me that I could have it again. Just for a moment. So I must believe him, must let his words become my truth, because I need him more than I've ever needed anything. After all, the world is a small stone house atop a steep hill, built to hold two people and infinitely empty with just one.
Zinara stared into Garfield's hard, unblinking eyes, and tried to picture the man she'd first met. She tried to see the light heart, the kindness and compassion, the ever-underestimated strength and determination. The idealism. Yet the longer she looked, the more it seemed to her that she wasn't seeing a man at all; rather, there was a mirage where Garfield should've been standing. Breath caught in her throat and her pupils dilated. It wasn't him… It was someone she didn't recognize and it scared her.
Garfield's smile widened, as if sensing her fears, his fingertips lingering on her cheek. His other hand found its way around her waist and, smelling her lingering uncertainty, he hugged her to him. "Shh," he soothed, combing fingers through her hair. "I know it's not pleasant, but it has to be done. And when it's all over everything will be better, not just for people like us, but for the humans too. You know that- you've always known that."
She wanted to say something, but didn't understand what. Didn't know the difference between truth and what she wanted to believe. But then again, did it really matter? The steady rhythm of his heart drummed against her ear as the flutter of her own beat in his stomach, reminding her of their connection. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply as relief spread through her. These were Garfield's arms and that was Garfield's voice, and when she thought of that her body and mind relaxed. Zinara felt safe when he held her, felt his certainty radiate through their contact. And she wanted so badly to believe him…
"It's necessary. All of this is necessary. You're doing the right thing-"
"Don't listen to him." The new voice cut through the air like a gust of frozen wind, stinging like a thousand particles of ice lashing exposed flesh. Zinara started, pulling away from Garfield and swinging her head wildly as she tried to pinpoint the source of the sound. Her amber eyes fell on a hooded figure leaning casually against a coiled pillar not twenty feet to her left. When she'd arrived and how long she'd been listening was impossible to say, but it was clear that she'd heard enough. The hooded figure stepped forward, approaching the two slowly, deliberately, her gaze so intense Zinara felt the feathers on her head raise even though she couldn't actually see any eyes. Not that she needed to; she knew exactly who this was.
"Not you again," sighed Garfield, letting his head fall back in frustration. The figure ignored him.
"You are not doing the right thing. He knows that and so do you."
"Raven," breathed Zinara, her lips parting in wonder. Pale hands emerged from the cloak's folds and pushed the hood back around the figures shoulders. Dark hair fell smoothly to her chin and darker eyes glinted with power, though the face itself remained expressionless.
"Zinara," Raven answered. The siren let out a breathy laugh, smiling for a moment.
"I knew you would come. You, of all people, had to be here when it happened. Besides that, I wanted to meet you. Just once."
"Why bother," shot Raven tersely. "You clearly already know me."
"No more than you know me. I wanted to talk to you. Hear it all from your point of view."
"You've missed your chance."
A frown furrowed Zinara's brow, making her eyes seem somehow bigger, like harvest moons shrouded by thin wisps of cloud. Garfield reached out for her, trying to hold her shoulders and return her attention to his own agenda, but she shrugged him off, gazing incredulously at the empath. Raven gave no sign of acknowledgment, not indication that she even recognized the disruptive force of her presence. Stillness weighted the air around her like time itself was unwilling to pass too close. She willed her meaning into Zinara, cutting away any barrier between them with the sharpness of her gaze. Even as the siren clung to her confusion, desperately wishing for an alternate version of the encounter, the harsh reality of the situation sank in her stomach. Cold and slithering and undeniable.
"Yes," she answered softly. "Yes, I suppose you're right. The time for talking has already passed us. Still, I'd like to try. We have so much to talk about, you and I. So many things to discuss."
"I can't give you what you want, Zinara," Raven said in a flat tone, staring unblinkingly into her face. "More than that, I'm not going to lie to you as you would have me do. You have a choice and I will not help you make the wrong one. I'm not like him."
"That's a lie if I ever heard one," Garfield snorted, a cruel smile twisting his lips. She hadn't looked at him before and she didn't now, but the inference was clear to everyone. "But how "like me" you are or aren't is a whole other topic and we don't have time for it. So just what is this 'wrong choice' I'm pushing Zinara into making? Come on Rae, if you're going to accuse me of something, be direct about it."
He reached out and grabbed Zinara's arm possessively. For a moment she twitched, recoiling from the iron of his touch. But then her resistance faltered and she leaned back into his chest. Raven was scaring her and, more than anything, she wanted to feel safe. There was security under Garfield's wing. The empath's nostrils flared in annoyance and her gaze flicked to the creature that had once been one of her closest friends. To the entity that encased something much more than friendship, holding it hostage. Yet her resolve didn't falter, and she met the changeling's fire with a wall of ice.
"I'm done talking to you," she said calmly, though there was an edge to her voice that suggested barely contained disgust.
"But I'm not done talking to you," he sneered, resting his chin in Zinara's hair. "We have so much fun, you and I. Now, you were accusing me of trying to mislead our mutual friend here. I'm interested to know why. If you and the Boy Wonder and all you're spandex clad super-friends are right, then allowing the Half Heart to split the world will ultimately kill everyone. How does that benefit me? What possible reason could I have for wanting everything dead?"
"Don't try to bait me into a pointless debate."
"Answer his question!" Zinara's voice was high and unsteady. For a moment, her hand reached across her chest, intent on grasping Garfield's in a show of solidarity. Then it froze, conflicted. Her huge, amber eyes blinked, her face as stern as she could make it. Everything about her betrayed the doubt he'd been working so hard to suppress and it became clear: Zinara did not want the loss of life to be a part of her legacy. Raven's lips tightened subtly, her own blunt instincts butting up against the diplomacy she knew was necessary.
"This thing," she started, staring into Zinara's moon-bright eyes. "This shadow you've let take over, its only goal is the complete removal of anything and everything that might cause Beast Boy pain. It benefits when the possibility of emotional connection is removed because it reasons that loneliness is less painful than loss. That is its function and everything it does and says is to that end. You're the one that let it take over, that split Beast Boy into that fractured entity you're allowing to touch you, which tells me that, in your own way, you know this. Thus, you must also know that it's not a person, it can't empathize or value life like one. I'm not saying that there's any part of Beast Boy that would actively advocate for mass murder. But this part, this inner demon you've put in charge, wouldn't mind some collateral damage if it could accomplish its goal of total isolation. It probably even told you as much. Why do you continue to listen?"
"Because she knows I'm right," Garfield barked, sneering. "Yeah, some humans might die, but so what? It's for the greater good and besides, it's not like there are any good ones anyway."
"There have been and continue to be good people in this world. Humans who are accepting of and even embrace individuals that differ from what is defined as normal are everywhere if you just look for them."
"That's a really nice sentiment, but can you name one? Can you honestly think of any human that has never judged or hated freaks like us?"
"Garfield's parents," Raven shot back, finally snapping. "Any your father, Zinara. He loved you; you know that. I've seen it in your mind- felt it through Beast Boy."
"My father," Zinara growled. "Tried to have me killed! Maybe he did love me, but in the end it didn't matter! The only important thing about a person is whether or not society can accept them as a human being and that's a definition none of us will ever fit!"
"You don't know what happened. You can't know what he was or was not thinking. He knew about Dionysius's promise, do you honestly believe he could've thought some muscle man with a sword would be able to break it? Have you never considered the possibility that he was trying to save you?"
"Yes, that makes perfect sense. My father was trying to save me by directing someone to cut my head off."
"He knew you couldn't die! But he could. That man would have killed him for defending you, and then where would you be? Alone in a hostile town without even the slightest idea of how to take care of yourself. Maybe he was trying to show those idiots that they couldn't hurt you because you were under the protection of a god. Then they would have had to leave you alone, or risk the wrath of the heavens. Did you ever consider that? Or are you so deluded that you're willing to kill every living thing on this planet based solely on the assumption that your father was a complete and utter moron!"
"Garfield," Zinara wined, tears shining in her eyes as her hands reached up to cup her ears. As if that action alone could block out the cold, horrible rationality of Raven's arguments.
"Stop it," he intervened, now desperate to protect his investment. He approached Raven threateningly, keeping his voice low and his words sharp. "Don't pretend to understand what Zinara has been through, the horrors she's endured at the hands of those 'good people' you claim exist."
"I understand like no one else ever can," Raven spat back. "I'm The Gem, remember? The result of my demon lord father raping my mother, an abomination destined to end this world. And I was raised by people who reminded me every day of that fact, ever since I could understand language. Zinara's lucky; her father cared about her enough to live with her at the very least. My own mother couldn't stand the sight of me! And I don't blame her. The only people who have ever shown me any kindness have been the Titans."
"And still you would save them," Zinara asked in a small voice. "Still you would keep our kind comingled with them?"
"Yes." There was no irony in her voice, no sarcasm or exasperation. Raven looked past Garfield and her eyes met Zinara's. "The space where one exists is not meant to hold two. So yes, in spite of all of the world's cruelties, I would keep us whole."
"Whole? Whole!" Garfield's voice crackled like thunder, causing Zinara to flinch back. The changeling either didn't notice or didn't care; his gaze was fixed on Raven in a stare of pure disgust. "You would lecture us about being whole? You, who is so fragmented and dysfunctional you need a psychic mirror to get in touch with your emotions? You, who can't even muster the empathy to talk to another human being, let alone bond with them. You've spent every day since we first met breaking him and still you have the audacity to talk about "keeping us whole?" You don't even know what whole is."
"This is not about Beast Boy's and my relationship," she hissed, her amethyst eyes locking onto Garfield's face, seeing past the snarl to the ache inside. Finding that his ache hurt her too, yet still not understanding why.
"Yes it is. Maybe not for you, but you're the great and terrible Raven! What do the feelings of one boy matter to you? A little collateral damage is fine as long as you accomplish your objectives, right?"
"Don't try to bait me, Garfield. I will deal with you once I've saved the rest of the world from your short-sighted, selfish, idiocy."
"No," he said flatly, advancing until his body was mere inches from hers and she had to look up to meet his eye. "No, you'll deal with me now. No more games. Unless Beast Boy isn't a priority."
"I came for him. I'm here because he asked me to be. Because he understands what's at stake here."
"For him or because of him? Those are two different things, Rae. You're implying an attachment where none exists."
"Do not presume to know how I feel or debate semantics with me."
"And if he died? If ripping the Half Heart from my gut and stopping what's already started means Beast Boy has to die? What then?"
"I won't let that happen."
"Stop trying to save face! He might be holding to some glimmer of hope that there's a person in there, but I know what you are! You wouldn't care, it would just be a minor inconvenience for you to have to clean up the body; what a mess."
"You have no idea what I am."
"You're just mad because, of the two of us, I get to be the honest monster. Zinara trusts Garfield and you have no hope of persuading her without our support, so you want the weakling to resurface because he would just agree with you blindly. You would use his love for you to achieve a goal that isn't even yours and shed him as soon as the crisis is defused. It might even work. 'Beast Boy' would end up even more broken than he already is without any hope of recovery, but what's one boy's well being against the weight of the world?
"Doesn't matter. You're not going to get the chance to find out. I exist to protect him from monsters like you and right now he's defaulting to my judgment. So whaddaya say? Ready to give up and watch the world be reborn?"
He grabbed her chin with his thumb and pointer finger, forcing her amethyst gaze to his smug, superior smirk. She ground her teeth, revolted by the entity before her yet strangely affected by something past its face. Strangely attracted to a sadness deep inside, to some element of this being that resonated profoundly with her own soul. Beast Boy- the real Garfield, was there, waiting for her answer. Waiting for her to do… something.
"Or do you still think you can prove me wrong?"
The something snapped within her. Not the type of snap that heralds breaking or a loss of control. This was something different- special. Like snapping a joint back into place or a connector into a circuit. Life flowed through her, the cosmic energy current of the universe itself, and for a glowing instant she saw Truth. She knew her task, understood what it was she'd come to do. And wasn't all about Zinara or saving the world. Raven knocked Garfield's hand away with the back of her own and, in a single fluid, almost jumping motion, she stood on her toes, grabbed the back of his head, and brought his face to hers. Their lips met in an explosion of sensation, their thoughts and souls entwining in a connection that was infinitely more intimate.
I don't know love, she whispered in his mind. I don't know that I'm even capable of love. I don't know how. But Garfield you see me, as I am and as I could be, the way no one else does. You make me laugh even if I don't show it and I look forward to seeing you even if I don't realize it. You make me human and I can't loose that. Can't loose you… I need you, Garfield, like I need nothing else. I want you like I want no one else. These things I do know. So I'm asking you to come back for me, even if I have no right or logical reason. I'm asking you to share this ugly, beautiful world with me. I'm asking- no, I'm beggingyou to please stay with me. Because I will not survive without you.
Infinity suspended in the silence between them, holding the world and everything in it still, Raven included. She held Beast Boy to her, willing him to understand the way she did, allowing him to experience her darkest fears and wildest dreams for the future. Trusting him in a way she'd never learned and praying that trust would not be betrayed. Yet he made no move; his form was as still as the universe around him, his own thoughts void. Something horrible twisted deep inside Raven's gut, something that made unwelcome and uncalled for tears burn in her eyes. Then go cold… Her hands slid to his shoulders as her weight fell back into her heels. She pulled away, unable to look at him for fear of what other stupid things she might say or try.
But their contact was not broken. A warmth tingled at the edge of her mind, small and unnoticed at first. Then it grew, bursting like all of spring compressed into one, dynamic moment. Raven started in pure surprise, her eyes snapping back up, disbelieving and relieved at the same time. Beast Boy was smiling down at her, his face bright as the sun itself, proclaiming joy and laughter and optimism to the entire world. When their gazes locked his smile broadened and he leaned forward and down, returning his lips to hers. She heard him in her thoughts, his voice speaking the sweetest words she'd ever heard.
I'm not going anywhere.
Time began moving around them again, reminding them of their calling and responsibilities to the rest of the world and Beast Boy pulled away. For a moment Raven clung to him, as if afraid he was going to disappear into smoke and slip through her fingers. There was a storm inside her, a raging gale of uncontrolled emotion that had somehow failed to swallow her. She wondered how that was possible, wondered how it was that this changeling had gotten so close to her without her consent or knowledge, and, at the same time, didn't wonder at all. The answer was standing right next to her and, though it went against her very nature, Raven found herself trusting him. Her hands slid back to her sides, steeling her heart for the inevitable duty that had to come next. Beast Boy's smile had gone bittersweet and there was an increasingly sad glint in his eyes as he too remembered the weight of their situation. Reaching out, he took Raven's hand in his, then turned his attention back to Zinara.
"We can't do this," he said plainly, innocence ringing in his tone. Zinara frowned, her own expression a mixture of confusion, betrayal, and something else that couldn't be quantified. She shook her head slowly back and forth, her lips parting to allow shaking breaths through. Beast Boy didn't falter, his resolve eroding hers as his honesty pierced her heart. "It doesn't matter how good our intentions are or how bad our experiences were. This is wrong and we can't finish it."
"I don't understand."
"Yeah you do," Beast Boy said softly. "Raven's right Zinara, your dad loved you. And more importantly you loved him. Lets pretend you're right, that using the half-heart to split this world won't hurt anyone physically. You'll still be tearing apart families just like yours and mine, families who love each other regardless of any one member's differences. You'll be destroying friendships like the one's Raven and I have in the Titans and loves like Robin's and Starfire's. This is going to hurt people, Zinara. If you go through with it it's going to break them."
"No, I don't understand," she repeated, frowning at him in terror. "Why are you saying this? Why now? If this is what you believe, if this is how it ends, then why did you let me out in the first place!? Why not just leave me be!"
"Zinara," he sighed, his eyes pools of emerald empathy and compassion. "I… It's not fair. None of it. You're so sad already and I didn't want to see you hurt anymore. I wanted you to smile, to laugh and play and be a girl for once! I wanted to make the pain stop for you- I still want that. And I wanted so badly to believe you were right, that we could stop everyone from hurting if we just split them up. But this… This can't help anyone, especially not you. I realize that now and I'm sorry it took me so long."
"Gar-" Her voice broke into a gasp as her body pulsed with light. The room around them shook, a cacophony of twisting metal and crumbling cement as the physics of the matter took hold. It was time. One way or another, it was time. Zinara crumpled to her knees, breathing is sharp ragged gasps as her body began to disintegrate into energy. "Garfield…"
Raven let him go to her side, watched him crouch before her and cup the sides of her face. Her own stomach churned with an elixir of emotion that simultaneously made her sick and gave her strength. Black energy coated the walls around the three, reinforcing them, giving Beast Boy time to say what needed to be said. And if they died, they died together… Somehow that comforted her. Gave her focus.
"Hey," Beast Boy's whispered, green eyes boring into gold. "Hey, it's okay. Shh, it's okay. I'm here. What do you need me to do? Tell me how to help."
"I'm sorry, Garfield. I'm so sorry for all this."
"You don't have to-"
"But I do. I used you. I tore you in half because I was too scared of being meaningless to face the truth of my own existence. I was so busy trying to make a better world I never considered the loss of this one. The People of the Sea were swallowed by their own misguided convictions and in my vanity I would've done the same. Now look at us, on the brink of my glorious rebirth."
"Zinara," he said urgently, his hands moving to her shoulders. "Tell me what to do. Tell me how to stop this. Tell me how I can save you!"
"Oh Garfield," she laughed softly, her face breaking into a grimace as another tremor of light pulsed through the room. "I made a choice long ago and this was always the inevitable consequence. My end is here; I've known that for a long time, as have you. It's sadder than I imagined. I didn't think I'd have so many regrets. Nevertheless, that's the truth of it, and nothing you do can change it. There's no going back for me. But there is something I can do. I can make it right, if that's the word. Put back what I took apart."
"Please! There has to be something! You don't have to die! You can't!"
"I know this hurts and I'm sorry. I never meant for it to hurt… I never wanted to hurt anyone. You wanted to save me, but you've already done so much more than that. You made me a person, Garfield, reminded me that there is good in this world. Even now, after what I did to you, you're here, by my side, trying to help me. You're so persistent." She laughed a little, the tinkle of bells at a funeral, her avian hands clinging to Beast Boy's shirt, her gaze cast fatalistically onto the floor. "Just… make it worth the sacrifice, that's all I ask. Let my death have meaning-"
Another wave of light. The ceiling began to crumble, sending waterfalls of dust through Raven's barrier. They were rapidly approaching the limits of what she could do. Urgency pressed against her lips as she held back the stream of moment-shattering comments that was building up in her psyche. Zinara knew. She could feel the siren at the edge of her mind, afraid yet respectful. Dignified and… relieved. She'd existed for so long, a soul out of time; she was ready for what came next. With great effort, she picked her head up, her golden gaze locking with Raven's for a moment before sliding to Beast Boy's.
"Do you think-" she started before another tremor ripped a gasp from her lungs. Her back arched for a moment then went limp again. Beast Boy frowned, tears burning in his eyes as he clung to her as if to hold her to this life while simultaneously trying to let her go. Zinara smiled a little, her hand moving to his stomach, feeling her own erratic heartbeat pulse within. "Do you think he'll be there?"
"Yeah," Beast Boy said, covering her hand with his own and forcing his lips to twist reassuringly. "Yeah, I think he will. I think he'll be proud of you, too."
"I hope so."
There was one final flash of blinding, golden light like the setting sun, and a sound like singing and laughing and weeping all together at once. It dispelled Raven's black barrier and washed across the twisted form of the Tower, coating and obscuring everything it touched. The light was so intense it should have burnt their eyes and the sound so loud it should have burst their ears, yet neither Raven nor Beast Boy felt any physical pain or suffered any damage. Time passed. In an instant the entire event was over and Raven was left blinking in a stream of pink dawn that was pouring through their perfectly ordinary window. Outside the sun was glinting on the crests of normal waves and warmth was just beginning to return to their unaltered home. It was as if none of the previous day had even happened… or, it might've appeared that way to an outsider.
Beast Boy was still crouched on the ground a few feet in front of her, right before the glass. Tears were making silent trails down his cheeks and neck, dripping from his chin and wetting his shirt. His eyes were closed and he held a single, long, dusty brown feather in his lap. All that was left. Raven moved to his side, standing over him and resting her hand on his back. Then she dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around his chest and pressing her cheek to his shoulder blade. She didn't know why, but somehow, she was crying too.