Silently Pining

Rated: T

He always knew where to find her.

Different planes of existence be damned, very little had been different between them.

"It would be most unwise to sneak up on an enemy," she warned him icily, her back still to him. Even her voice was different to his ears. Somehow raspier, colder…and distant. If he hadn't known for certain it was her, he might have guessed she had a doppelganger.

The wind picked up and sent her ominous, dark cloak billowing about her silhouette. Somewhere below, in the distance, police sirens could be heard navigating the busy, traffic-ridden roads. Even this late, the city of Gotham never slept.

With a deep breath, and a steadying of nerves, he stepped out of the shadows, his fingers twitching at his sides in nervous anticipation.

So many ways he'd envisioned this meeting between them, so many nights he'd spent dreaming of their reunion, barely getting a wink of restful sleep as a result. It had all culminated to this point, and he couldn't help the overwhelming emotions that warred within him.

The last time he'd gazed upon that pale face — as peaceful and solemn as the waning full moon overhead — she'd been lost to him forever, his heart torn asunder by the gaping hole she'd left behind when she'd died.

He still ached at the sight of her, even if she currently was barely more than a shadow in the darkness of night, sitting on the top of such a high skyscraper, overlooking the bustling night life of the city below.

"I guess it's a good thing we aren't enemies, then," he finally spoke, his voice sounding shaky even to his own ears. The first words they'd exchanged, and he could barely contain his feelings for her, committing the encounter to memory almost immediately.

How long had it been since he'd heard her voice? Touched her? Pulled her into an embrace, and buried his face into the crook of her neck, where her sweet, intoxicating scent was always strongest? How long had it been since he'd kissed her lips, and tasted the minty lip balm she liked to use to keep them soft? Or tangled his fingers roughly in her hair in a fit of passion?

Gods, he missed her — more than life itself; more than breathing. And yet, there she was, standing before him, as real as his own heartbeat, and still so untouchable to him.

"Wrong; anyone who dares try to corner me — daughter of Trigon — in such a cowardly manner, is an enemy," she argued, malice lacing her otherworldly tone.

She turned on him quickly, before he had the chance to even consider her next move. Her hood flew off her head as she prepared her attack, angry fists glowing with dark energy and her cloak becoming a grappling shadow caught in the wind.

Her reaction was immediate, like a knee-jerk, and almost just as quickly, she appeared to change at the unequivocal sight of him. Her hardened features seemed to soften, alight in their confusion and bewilderment as if her own sight lied to her in cruel jest. Her eyes — at first, glowing like amethyst stone in sunlight — flickered into a darker shade of violet and indigo. She'd been fierce and combat ready in the moment, until, of course, the moment she'd recognized him — discerned all that was familiar with him, and for the first time in almost a decade, he watched the ever aloof and stoic Raven, break.

Sadness, guilt, and an aching hurt riddled her expression, as common to her as the deep lines etched into her face. The anger had dissipated, leaving behind the shell of a woman who'd been victim to so much suffering, and had experienced an incomparable, ageless grief in her lifetime. There was so much sorrow in those glassy eyes — so much shattered hope in the way her bottom lip quivered, disbelieving. Both too young and too wise to appear so distraught beyond her years.

She was shaking and shuddering with it, and the formidable monster her father had somehow contrived out of the innocence she once possessed, fell away like a paper mask, revealing only the small, fragile human girl that had only ever wanted the pain to stop.

Raven fell to her knees in a flurry of her silken cloak, and it pooled about her legs like an ominous, black hole, sucking in all life and colour around her. She shook her head, once, and a single, searing hot tear rolled down the pallor of her cheek. "No…," she murmured with a gulp. "No, not another illusion, not now, please," she pleaded, her voice losing the edge from earlier.

She sounded, and looked, so young and lost in that moment — a girl barely entering her adult years, and having lost so much of her innocence at such a youthful age. All at the cruel hands of fate, and her undeserving father.

Beast Boy wanted nothing more than to run to her then, to pick her up and cradle her in his arms and to never let go, but he knew that the moments that followed would be critical in the aftermath. One false move, and she'd be lost to him all over again. It was not a risk he was willing to take, not when he recognized that look on her face, as if it mirrored his own reflection. It was like a stab in the gut, choosing to ignore his baser instincts, but he stood his ground and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Rae, it's me, it's really me. I'm not an illusion," he told her, his voice gentle as he carefully took a single step closer.

She closed her eyes, shaking her head furiously. "No, no, no, no, he's not real, he's not. He can't be. He's…he's dead, he's been dead! I watched them bury you!" Tears were welling in her eyes uncontrollably, slipping down her cheeks to her chin, and she wiped at them angrily, furious with their existence.

"You're dead…You're dead…," she mouthed over and over like a mantra, rocking on the spot and refusing to look at him. The tears dripped onto her bare knees, sliding to the floor to be consumed by the obsidian of her cloak.

It tore at his insides, seeing her in such a state, and his own eyes stung with the tears he fought to conceal. She'd gone through the very same thing he had; losing her had been the end of his world, too, and he'd known it. Countless nights, he'd begged and begged some cosmic force to bring her back to him. Months and years he'd wasted searching for a way to bring her back, no matter the cost, only to wind up at a dead end every which way. She'd haunted his bedroom, haunted his halls, and haunted his mind, like an ever present ghost he more than welcomed. A reminder of his failure, to be added to the long list of others he'd loved and lost.

Beast Boy went to her then, falling before her helplessly, his own knees weak and tired. With shaking hands, he wiped at her cheeks, the tears cooling against his skin. She continued to refuse to look at him, her unflinching gaze fixated on a spot by her legs, and her mantra falling from her lips in a breathy, husk of a whisper.

"God, Rae, please. Please, you have to believe it's me. It's Gar; Beast Boy. I…I may not be from here, but I'm still the same guy. I'm still him." Tears were spilling down his cheeks, too, and his throat was dry and hoarse, as if he were choking on his own heart.

They'd warned him that she'd be in a fragile state if he went to her now. The others had even advised against it, saying her psyche was far too traumatized from the incident to ever be the same, but like hell he'd give up on her.

Like hell he wouldn't fight.

"I'm dreaming…this…this is a dream, a nightmare. Oh, Azar, what have I done?!" she wailed, and threw herself onto him, sobs wracking her body as she clutched his arms, her sharp nails digging into his flesh, and buried her face into his chest.

He held onto her, tightly, like he would lose her forever if he dared let go. He covered the top of her head with kisses, his tears falling into the silken strands of her dark hair as he cradled her. "I'm not going anywhere, Rae. I'm not losing you a second time, either," he cooed against her ear, rocking her gently in his arms.

"Garfield," she called his name, her voice hoarse from crying, and his heart swelled. He'd thought he'd never hear her say it again, and the emotion brought on a fresh wave of stinging tears to his eyes. "You…you don't know the things that I've done…How many I've hurt," she confessed into his tear-drenched shirt.

"I forgive you, anyways. I'll always forgive you, Rae."

She grabbed at his shirtfront, taking fistfuls of the fabric as if she were going to tear it and take a piece with her. "I can't…I can't do this without you…," Raven moaned. Strands of her long, dark hair stuck to the sweat of her forehead, and the wet tears on her face. He wiped her hair back, soothing her with his touch. "You don't have to, anymore. Neither of us do. I'll go wherever you go, Rae. I'll follow you to hell and back, if I have to. Always."

He took her smaller, pale hands in his — both of them still shaking and overwhelmed by the emotion and shock of their circumstances — and placed a tender kiss on each knuckle.

Beast Boy could still hear her shallow breathing so intimately, from her fit of sobs, and he could feel the intensity of her gaze as she watched him unblinkingly. "Together," he said with finality, rubbing his cheek against their clasped hands, and closing his eyes in bliss. "Together, this time, I promise."

And it was a promise he intended to keep.

FIN