Chapter Thirty-Nine: Homesick

My hair was damp, and the clock on the side table was ticking loudly.

It was strange, how those turned out to be the only things I could focus on after my meltdown. My face was swollen from crying, my eyes were puffy, and my nose felt stuffed and chafed. I had no energy whatsoever, and I could only stare at the barely-visibly clock, trying not to think.

My brain was buzzing, same went for my ears.

I took a deep, ragged breath, and let it out, wanting nothing more than to curl into a ball.

Raven had brought me to a room that was almost darker than pitch. The only light came from the window adjacent to the huge, soft bed I was now lying on. It was round, with plush blankets and a mattress that felt like what I'd imagined clouds would were they solid. It had a strange, triangular, almost beaklike overhang, and more than nine comfortable pillows

My head lay on one such pillow as I lay silently, trying not to think.

Trying to get rid of the buzzing in my head, the grief.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been crying.

Rain pelted the window behind me, muffled, but there hadn't been thunder for a while. I stared at the clock on the side table, watching absently as the seconds ticked by with loud, audible clicks. It was almost four in the morning. I took a ragged breath in, then let it out slowly, tucking my face into the pillow as a hot wash of tears filled my ears, burning them.

I hated everything.

Literally everything.

I wished, more than anything, that I had jumped off the roof before Robin had shown up. I wished that I could go back in time, to when my family was still alive. I missed them so much, I missed them all, my mom, my dad, my stupid, annoying, adorable little sisters.

I missed the feeling of home.

Until now, I had been clawing my way forward and just keeping my head down, because I'd had something to focus on, something to keep me motivated. I'd only had my future left to look forward to, the future my parents had really wanted for me, so I'd done my schoolwork.

I'd been good. Modest. I hadn't worn make-up.

I'd followed almost all of my mom's rules, long after she'd died, because that was all I had left of her. The image of the person she'd wanted me to grow into, the things she'd wanted me to do, the things I wasn't allowed to do, the rules I'd had to follow to grow up how she'd wanted.

I had done everything to keep my promises.

I had done everything right, and yet, here I was.

Literally homeless, at fifteen, living off of the kindness of strangers because I'd become an illegal alien in my own home country. My father had fought for America, had fought in real wars overseas to protect the country that had forced me to abandon my citizenship.

The same government that had stripped me of my identity as a legal citizen.

The same city that had thrown me away because I was different.

I ached.

I sniffed hard and turned my face back toward the clock, hating how pathetic and small I felt, hating the fact that I'd been beaten so low by everything that the only thing I could do was cry like a stupid baby. I hated every last second of it, and more than that, I was also angry.

After a time, I finally sat up and rubbed my aching eyes, looking around the room.

I wondered, for a few moments, where the hell Raven had taken me since this place looked nothing like the rest of the Tower. The girl herself wasn't here, she'd left the room immediately after depositing me on her bed, with only a simple, "wait here, and don't touch anything."

After that, she'd vanished.

I shivered a little, wishing not for the first time that my leg wasn't in a cast since I wanted to curl up into a ball, but instead of letting my brain dwell on all the shit making me miserable, I turned my focus on the room, studying everything around me with dazed, distracted eyes.

The floor was carpeted and what looked in the extremely dim light like deep violet, or perhaps indigo, I couldn't tell. There was strange, hexagonal archway separating the bed, side tables, and dresser from the rest of the room, as if whoever had designed the room initially intended to put a door between the sleeping space and the rest of whatever was out there.

I caught sight of strange totems lurking in the dark, and along the right wall was what I thought may have been a floor to ceiling shelf full of books, but what really caught my eye was the vanity table, because on it, as well as a few other places, were candles radiating cold white light.

The flames flickered dimly now and again, looking almost black, somehow.

The weird color of the little fires messed with my brain a little, so I stopped staring at them and instead looked at the huge octagonal mirror above the vanity. Even with the room so dark, I could tell that it was incredibly ornate and very beautifully designed. There were couches spread around the room, too, as well as a table with a few weathered books scattered across the top.

I wrapped my arms around myself, studying the gothic decor, gaze lingering particularly long on some strange masks hanging along the wall. Everything about the room screamed Gothic.

"This would probably be the ultimate dream decor for Marie," I muttered, nibbling on my lip as I thought about her, momentarily wondering if she was alright. I hoped she was okay. I did, I really and sincerely hoped she wasn't hungry, or unhappy, or feeling remotely like I was feeling.

I hoped she'd found something to keep her going.

I lay down again, dropping my head on the damp pillow and staring at the ceiling. The dim light flickered and rippled with the water running down the glass of the window, making me feel for a surreal second like I was underwater. The blues and greys of the room didn't help, either.

My hair hung in cold, stringy, half-dried tendrils around my cheeks and ears, every part of me damp and chilly, but I just kept breathing, trying to force myself to become numb. I folded my hands over my stomach, lacing my fingers together, inhaling in and then letting it out.

Breathing.

It ached.

I wanted it to stop.

I swallowed hard, wondering if I should just... leave. Grab nothing, just leave the tower, and find a place to stop for good. Maybe the harbor. The ocean would be a good place to disappear, it would take people weeks, possibly even months, before my body showed up.

If it showed up at all.

Or maybe, a skyscraper rooftop somewhere downtown.

Or maybe overdosing?

No, medications cost money I don't really have, I tiredly thought, ears starting to ring almost deafeningly as I stared at the ceiling through dry, listless eyes. Plus, the chances of death by overdose are too low. The survivability rate is too high... I don't want to wake up later hurting worse and accidentally cause a storm that destroys the city, along with everyone in it. If I decide to do this, I have to make sure it's done thoroughly, with no possibilities for survival.

I wondered, for a time, if I should leave Sarah and Amber a note.

Maybe a note for Miss Figgins, too... and Kitten... and Fang... and Tyler... and...

"Ah," I whispered, face crumpling as I realized just how many people I actually cared about, for the first time. "Why did I have to make friends...? I don't wanna hurt them... but if I don't get out of this somehow, it's gonna happen anyway. And... it's not like it matters, right?"

I tried to convince myself of that. To find logic behind my thoughts. Realistically, I didn't think it would matter in the long run if I actually did die. I was only one person, and yeah, I was sure that my friends would grieve for a while... I was sure that the people who did care would be sad, but eventually... time would pass, and I'd fade away. The pain would disappear over time.

They'd all eventually forget about me and move on with their lives.

I was just a random orphan who'd been living in the system, anyway. I was nothing special, nothing about me dying would make a significant impact on anything, and I had no reason to keep going... so... I could do it. I just had to find the right place, the right moment...

Click.

A sudden hydraulic hiss filled the room, and light suddenly illuminated everything.

I looked up to see Raven's silhouette highlighted by the bright hallway.

In her hands were two coffee cups of something that seemed to be steaming.

She almost seemed to glide as she made her way over to the side of the bed and set one of the mugs down on a round little wooden coaster. I glanced at it, then looked at her, but she was already sweeping over to a chair in the corner adjacent to the bed.

She sank down on the plush seat cushion, sinking into it and pulling both of her legs up underneath her, withdrawing them within the confines of her cloak. I felt a lump forming in my throat when she started staring at me with shadowed yet piercing violet eyes. They gleamed almost ominously from within the depths of her hood.

"When it cools down a little," she said in a raspy, drawling voice, "drink it. It'll help."

I cast a dazed glance at the mystery mug sitting on the side table. "What... is it?"

"Hot black tea with some peppermint sugar stirred in," she told me, taking a sip of her own without taking her eyes off me; I watched as she lowered the glass again. "I prefer mine without sugar, but I thought you might appreciate having something a little sweet."

"Er... thanks," I croaked, nose still stuffed; I shifted my body and set my legs over the edge of the bedside, reaching out for the mug and gripping it carefully. I brought it closer and held it, letting it warm my chilly hands. I lowered my eyes, tangled hair tumbling forward, staring at the drink.

Silence filled the room, and after a time, I tentatively took a sip of it. I was actually surprised by how good it tasted. It wasn't too sweet, or bitter, but it was strong and heady, and thick with something more than just water. It made my throat feel a little less sore and achy, too.

"This is really good," I said absently but sincerely. "I've never had tea before."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "Not even once?"

"No," I admitted with a snort, shaking my head. "Miss Figgins was the one who always did the grocery shopping, and she was always getting high calorie stuff like juice and soda and milk."

The hooded girl took a sip of her tea, blinking once, just studying me.

"Not even when you were living with your parents?" she asked, and for whatever reason, I winced, which I was sure she noticed.

"My mom..." I tried to say, then had to stop for a second, because it genuinely hurt to remember those sorts of things. I swallowed hard, just mulling over my childhood, but even though thinking about it hurt, I couldn't stop the wry smile that spread across my lips. "My mom... she was Italian, and very old fashioned when it came to food and our diets. She hated things like soda. She loved getting us natural juices, and she made us drink at least five glasses of water per day, but sometimes she splurged and made us some strawberry and banana smoothies."

Raven seemed to take her time digesting that, nodding slowly.

"She liked organic products," the girl noted, and it wasn't a question.

"Yeah, she did," I agreed, nodding. "My mom liked to cook these huge meals for us from scratch, but only at dinner time. Lunch was always small, and breakfast was usually something like eggs and bacon, or pancakes, or French toast. I loved her French toast the most, actually."

"I'm partial to pancakes myself," Raven dryly noted, and I glanced at her, watching as she took yet another sip of her drink, "but sometimes, French toast is pretty good, too."

I wasn't sure how to react.

It felt strange, making small talk about this sort of stuff after what had happened. She had seen me break down in a way I'd never done in front of everyone, and yet, somehow... she was so calm, as if it was natural. As if I hadn't just spent hours crying my eyes out uncontrollably.

As if I hadn't pathetically clung to her clothes while I'd lost it.

"Why are you doing this for me?" I finally asked, and she blinked, though she didn't look away. "I don't... understand. You... you're... it's like, you're always there when I need someone. Like, somehow, you just... know when I really need someone, but... why is it that you're here?"

Raven stared blankly. "Here?"

"Yeah," I said, gripping the mug tighter.

"This is my bedroom," she deadpanned, quirking an eyebrow. "That's why I'm here."

I blinked, drawing back, but after about two seconds I realized I wasn't actually all that surprised by this revelation. Raven did kind of seem like the sort who would vibe in a space like this. Still, I shook my head slowly, then took a long pull from the tea she'd given me.

She watched as I lowered the mug again.

"Good to know, but... that's not what I mean," I told her, staring at the mug between my hands; the buzzing in my mind grew louder, making my vision spot a little. "Why are you... why do you always... help me?"

"Elaborate," Raven dryly countered.

"Well, for starters," I muttered, uncomfortable, "you kept my powers a secret... you literally gave me a chance to keep living normally, even after the weird way we first crossed paths. Even though the fact that it happened clearly upset you enough to come find me. You stepped in and told Tyler's mom what happened when she was tearing me a new one. You came to my rescue when I was kidnapped by the HIVE-I know you did, you were the one who found me..."

She listened quietly, just watching, and sipped her tea.

I licked my dry, cracked lips, tightening my grip on the cup.

"You were the one who stopped the television from crushing me," I croaked, unable to meet her eyes, "and the one who chose to trust me, even after all of your friends started attacking. I put your hand directly against my heart, but instead of blasting me with your powers, you... listened to what I was saying. I mean, you were the one who confirmed to your friends that I was actually innocent, and you also saved me from getting shot, and refused to leave me alone with a broken leg even though I literally pleaded and begged for you to go away, and you're just... you're always protecting me. You're always right there when I need help."

She wore no expression when I looked at her, though her voice was quiet when she said, "I think you've forgotten that I'm a Titan. That sort of stuff is what I do for everyone. Every day."

My brows furrowed. "I don't know how else to articulate it because I don't understand what you see in me, or why you think helping me is worth it. I just... I don't get it."

The hooded girl didn't react, just kept looking at me with unfathomable violet eyes.

She seemed to really ponder my words, as well as what she wanted to say.

"I don't need a reason to help someone," Raven finally said, speaking in a careful, controlled tone that held little of the clarity her voice usually carried. "Initially, I was only shadowing you because I thought you were a threat to my safety. I actually thought you might have been a new villain who was targeting the city, and our group, with some sort of plot."

I wasn't sure why, but the second she said that, my heart squeezed to the point where it felt like it would break. I could barely force myself to mutter a quiet, strained, "oh..."

She tilted her head, watching me for a bit, then let loose a heavy exhale.

"I was wrong," Raven said quietly. "I learned that pretty quick after watching you. That being said... I do struggle to trust others. Even among my friends, I find it difficult to interact. I'm still not even sure if I should trust you... but as uneasy as it makes me, the truth is, I do. You're very honest... brutally honest, even. You even use honesty as a weapon, sometimes."

I snorted, rolling my eyes, and muttered, "that's because it used to work in my favor. A lot of people can't take looking at truths they aren't ready to confront. Sometimes the truth is ugly."

"Exactly," Raven rasped, and her tone was serious enough that I met her stare. "I personally think the reason you're struggling so badly right now is because of that characteristic. You're someone who refuses to hide from the truth. You look at it, no matter how ugly it is. Sometimes, believe it or not, it's healthier to hide from the truth until you're strong enough to face it."

"I can't hide from reality," I tiredly told her, twisting to look at the rain pelting the massive bedroom window, which took up most of the upper wall in her sleeping space. "If I could, my life would be easier, but I can't. I'm not wired that way. Beating around the bush frustrates me, and I'm way too impatient to dance around things. It's easier to just... face it... and get it over with."

"Your own truths are impossible for you to handle alone," Raven calmly retorted. "You asked me why I've been helping you. That is the only answer I can and will give."

"But that's just it," I sighed, frustrated. "How the heck do you know? You always know!"

Her lips twitched. "My powers, like yours, are fueled by my emotions, and I've had to spend my entire life learning how to keep a leash on my feelings because of it. That's how."

I glanced up at her, face drawing tight. "If that's true... how do you do it?"

"Meditation," she said quietly. "And even then, I'm not perfect. I fight with myself... every single day... to remain in control, because when I lose my control, it can have catastrophic results."

"And when you're sad?" I asked; she stiffened when a few tears, unbidden, trickled down my cheeks again, but I didn't let myself cry, even though lightning flashed outside. "How do you manage to keep yourself in control when you're upset? How can you work through it if you're not even allowed to break down or cry? How... how do you manage to bury those feelings?"

Raven's full lips thinned for a moment. "I don't. I have no choice but to accept my feelings as they come... and then let them out. People like us cannot and will never be able to bottle our emotions up the way others do, because that... that causes problems. The simplest way to resolve things is addressing the emotions that tear us up inside, or scare us, or make us sad."

"That's... but... but what if there's no real resolution?" I pressed, mouth twisting as I frustratedly wiped my eyes and face dry. "What do you do when you can't fix the reasons you're upset?"

"Then you find comfort," Raven told me, as if it were simple; she took another a sip of her tea, then set the mug down on the side table next to her, hands withdrawing into her cloak. Her eyes glinted strangely, as if she were seeing straight into my thoughts. "You have people who love you so much that they've been crying with worry since the moment you disappeared on them. You have friends who care about you, who wouldn't ever hesitate to comfort you. Family, even-the ladies who raised you have been ranting on the internet all day. If you're sad, reach for them."

My heart twinged, and I broke eye contact, squeezing the coffee cup for a second.

"It won't... last," I told her, clenching my teeth for a second. "I've been in and out of foster homes like that since my family died. I don't have the luxury of making friends like others do. Nothing in my life has ever been permanent. Not the families that tried to adopt me, or the homes I was bounced between, not even the people I came to like. Nobody stays with me, ever... they move on, they forget about me, and... I'm always alone in the end. That... that hurts worse. That's why I feel like I can't, because even I do care about them... they won't stay. None of them will."

"How would you know if you don't try?" Raven quietly countered, and I flinched. "I do agree with you, wholly, about a great deal of what you've just said... because sometimes, inevitably, you will part ways with others. People come... people go... and all you can really do when that happens is wish them the best and try to keep yourself stable. And that's also why reaching out and treasuring all of the people who are here in the now is so important. If I had let my own fear of being abandoned stop me from trying to connect with other people, I wouldn't even be here talking to you right now. That's how I met the Titans. They were my first friends, ever."

I didn't know how to react to that, because she had a really good point.

But still.

"Everything is different now," I told her, fighting to smile. "Even if I manage to keep a reign on my powers, the life I'll have to live is going to be so much of a struggle that... I'm not sure if I can handle it. I actually feel like, maybe... me not being around is the better option for everyone."

Raven didn't seem at all fazed by my admission. "It isn't."

"And, why not?" I plainly asked, wanting, needing an answer... yet I couldn't meet her eyes, I couldn't look at her, I felt like if I did my heart would crack. "My dreams were destroyed by the very same government and country that my dad spent most of his life fighting for in the military. My promise to my mother... to go to college and live an honest, happy life... to get married someday, and maybe have children of my own, to pursue all the things I love... that's gone now."

"There's always another path to the same goal," Raven said in a slow, careful tone. "Yes, what happened to you wasn't fair, at all, but-"

"Raven... honestly? I don't know if I want to live anymore," I quietly interrupted; the air fell still. The sound of her breathing stopped for a second, before resuming. "I'm dangerous. Extremely dangerous. I can't... make a single mistake, because if I do, everyone around me might pay the price for it, and I don't think I can do this."

"Why?" she stonily asked.

"All I do is make mistakes," I chuckled, shaking violently as a shudder wracked me. "Robin was right. About everything."

"Right about what?" the hooded girl asked. "What did he say to you?"

I tried to ground myself, focusing on keeping pressure against the warm glass in my hands.

"He said I'm a danger to everyone around me," I murmured, "and I am. I shouldn't be here. I should have died back when my family did. My life should have ended back then."

"Thoughts like that are pointless," Raven noted. "They won't solve-"

"The truth," I croaked, not bothering to spare her a glance, "is that I might just be the reason my whole family is dead. I think that... I may have ruined my entire life with my own hands."

The girl stiffened, visibly straightening in my peripherals. "Explain."

I took a deep breath in, and slowly let it out, tipping my head back to stare at her ceiling.

"I'm one of the forty survivors of the Moore, Oklahoma disaster," I told her, smiling bitterly as those black thoughts came rearing up again. "I... I got into a stupid fight with my mom the same night the first tornado hit. I was angry at her... I was being bullied at school since I'd skipped a grade, and I wasn't pretty like all the other girls. The fight was over makeup. I yelled at her, and I said awful things, even though my dad had just come back for the first time in over a year."

"Are you referring to the same storm chains that destroyed more than half of Oklahoma?" Raven asked, sounding sincerely unsettled for the first time I'd ever heard. "Those storms... there were more than seven hundred twisters that touched down nonstop over a span of a single month."

I nodded slowly; I remembered hearing about that afterwards.

"I was sleeping when the first one hit my house," I said with a twisted little grin, remembering the way the roof of my bedroom had exploded; her cloak rustled and I glanced at her, though I was taken aback to see that her eyes had widened. She stared at me like that, seemingly waiting for me to continue, so I said, "and when it hit... the roof was torn clean off my house. It literally exploded, the wind... it hurt. It was so loud. It... I couldn't even hear my own screams."

"And that's how it happened," she said, and like before, it wasn't a question.

"Yeah," I weakly confirmed. "My sisters and I... we shared a room. I... I saw them, right before it hit. They looked so scared... but then, it hit the house, the roof was gone, and I was literally torn from my own bed and sent flying thousands of feet into the sky. I was thrown around by wind so strong it was ripping homes to pieces, destroying everything in its path, and I... just flipped. I couldn't stop, nothing could stop it, the wind literally had me. I flipped so many times that I literally threw up and blacked out. I... I shouldn't be alive right now, at all. I honestly shouldn't. I should have died, it makes no sense, but when I next woke up, I was buried under a mountain of concrete and twisted metal with nothing but bruises and scratches."

She didn't react, just continued staring at me intensely.

I hated the piercing stare she was giving me, so I closed my eyes to avoid it and drank the last of the tea, swallowing it down before setting it on the little wooden coaster on her bedside table.

"I was rescued," I told her, shivering a little. "I was rescued and brought to a nearby school, where other survivors had gathered, but while I was there, another tornado touched down and it ripped the school to pieces. Almost everyone was killed, and then I was trapped, buried under the debris with two little boys for days and days while the storms ripped absolutely everything apart. Everything was gone when the sky finally cleared. Nothing was left standing."

Raven seemed genuinely subdued after my confession.

"You have no way of knowing if you were the cause," she said after a time.

"Don't I, though?" I countered, heart tightening. "My powers... all of the boxes are checked. I was upset when the first storm first hit the house, and it was so much worse for me afterwards... losing my home, my family, everything, and how I'd been buried, unable to move... I was scared to death, and in pain, and as you can clearly see, me being upset directly causes the same type of storms to happen even here, in California. Me being a literal mess right now is causing that."

I pointed at the window, just as three violent streaks of lightning forked across the sky.

Raven's face was illuminated by them, revealing that her face was blank; then the room darkened after a few more flashes, and her eyes were once again the only thing I could see.

"Dwelling in the past and thinking about such things won't solve the problem," she said after a while. "If anything, it'll make your situation far worse. Your mood influences the weather, which means that if you're turbulent, so is everything around you. So, rather than let your mind dwell in things that hurt you, you should instead pour your focus onto things that make you happy. For now, until I can teach you how to reign in your emotions, that is how you will prevent such things from happening."

I didn't answer her, since my mind was already drifting back to suicide methods.

I thought about it, then said, "thank you, for everything."

Raven's mouth curled into the barest hint of a frown. "Don't. Cut the thoughts of killing yourself out of your mind. Suicide is foolish. It's the coward's way out, and you are not a coward."

I just looked at her tiredly, at the steely violet eyes drilling holes into my face.

"Maybe it is," I quietly agreed, lowering my head; my limbs felt like water, and every second made my ears ring louder. "I tried, you know... really. I was able to delude myself into thinking I could make it on my own for five years, but... what's the point?"

Raven sighed and took her hood off, shaking out her dark hair.

"That's on you to decide," she said a little more gently, "but not right now. Make no decisions about what you really want to do, or even what your worth is, at all. For the time being, don't even think of such things. You are not at all in your right mind. You're grieving right now, and that sort of pain... it can cloud even the most rational mind. So, for now, just... wait."

Wait, huh?

She wanted me to wait.

I exhaled through my nose and let myself flop back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling.

"You want me to wait," I tiredly repeated.

"Yes," Raven confirmed. "Wait."

I thought about it, scanning the ceiling as I turned the idea over in my head. She wasn't telling me not to do anything, she wasn't telling me I was wrong, she was simply telling me to wait. I wasn't sure why, but I suddenly felt extremely exhausted.

"Alright," I softly conceded, eyes sleepily sinking halfway shut. "I think I can do that."

"I'll hold you to that," Raven dryly shot back.

"By the way," I asked, lifting a hand and touching the soft comforter. "Why did you bring me to your room, of all places?"

She didn't answer me right away, and when I lifted my neck to glance down at her, she was staring into her mug again, holding it with both hands. Her large, violet eyes seemed pensive.

"I'm not used to seeing people... cry," she said in a guarded, clipped tone. "My mind... at first, went blank, but... my room is off limits, so... by bringing you here, my friends wouldn't be able to bother you while you let it out. That's partially why I left you alone... to respect your privacy, and your tears, since you are someone who hates showing her weakness to those she doesn't trust."

Her admission made my heart tighten, though it wasn't unpleasant.

If anything, I was grateful and even a little moved.

"Your room is off limits?" I questioned. "How are you okay with me being in here, then?"

"I'm not," she dryly deadpanned, eyes sinking halfway shut, "but bringing someone who clearly isn't okay into my room is far less invasive than having someone barge into it, or even my mind for that matter. I'm still searching for answers on how you did that, too."

"I wouldn't know," I snorted, shaking my head. "It was weird... the first time I caught fire, the second time I was hit by lightning on my way out of school, and the third time was right after that tornado touched down near Sarah's house."

Raven said nothing, though this information did seem to catch her attention.

"Still, thanks," I said sincerely, flopping back down. "I... this means a lot. Really. And, uh, sorry about... being damp. I think your pillow and your blankets might be wet with rainwater now."

"No big deal," Raven said easily, lifting a single delicate eyebrow at me. "Beast Boy is on laundry duty tomorrow anyway. Gives him more work to do."

I snorted, giving her an amused look. "I can't tell if you like him or hate him."

"Both, actually," Raven deadpanned, and I snickered, rolling my eyes. Her lips, like before, quirked into that barely visibly twist of a smirk and she finished the last of her tea. I was surprised when she stood up, walked over, and collected my mug. Her lips went slack as she studied me again, scanning the messy state I was in, from my clothes to my hair.

"What?" I asked, making a face even though I was tired. "Is it that bad?"

"Yes," she said simply, and I scowled. "You look like a half-drowned golden retriever."

I scoffed, mouth falling open, and her eyes glinted for a second when I blurted, "mean."

"Honest," she countered, eyes crinkling ever so slightly.

"Fair," I reluctantly grumbled, heaving myself into a sitting position. I rubbed my face with both hands, relishing in the sensation, but she startled me by setting a hand on my arm. I looked at her hand, then up at her in confusion. "What?"

"Come with me," she said, and with a ringing noise, the cups were suddenly engulfed in glowing black energy that inverted their colors and silhouettes. With both hands free, she pulled her hood up and made her way for the door.

"Uh... where to?" I asked, warily.

"First, the kitchen, then, the shower, then, wherever you want to sleep," she said, turning to look at me; her eyes gleamed for a second, and I was taken aback by the clarity in them. "French toast sounds good right now."

My heart fluttered wistfully for a second, and I had to fight to keep my face from screwing up. I was nearly overwhelmed by emotion for a few seconds, but with a few deep breaths, I managed to calm down. Sniffing, I gave her a nod.

"Yeah," I said, getting to my feet. "It does."

She waited until I'd hobbled over to where she was standing, then turned and gracefully walked the rest of the way out of her room. However, the second the automatic door whizzed open, she and I both stopped dead since Cyborg was standing there, fist up, human eye widening in shock.

"Yo, what?" he incredulously blurted, instantly stepping aside when Raven moved to continue walking; I followed her, giving him and his gaping mouth a nod of greeting. "Hold up! Raven!"

The hooded girl paused with a curt, "What?"

"Why was little miss Sunshine here in your room?" he squawked.

"Because I invited her in to talk, Cyborg," Raven sarcastically shot back. "Isn't it obvious?"

The bionic black boy's jaw dropped so fast I was shocked it didn't snap off.

"Yo, Sally," Cyborg called, and I turned to look at him; to my surprise, he was giving me a thumbs up. "Even we aren't allowed in Raven's room. Good job!"

"Huh?" I asked, making a face. "Good job for what?"

"If Raven trusts you enough to pull you in there, you've clearly passed the vibe check," he hollered, wriggling and dancing while giving her two wiggly thumbs up. "Good for you!"

Raven set a hand to her forehead, and the black energy holding her teacups seemed to grow erratic, almost seeming to spark. She kept moving, ignoring the laughing boy, and I followed her awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to the weird and unexpected praise.

"Idiot," the girl muttered under her breath.

She turned the corner, and I followed, but to be honest I faltered as the massive common room came into view because Robin was sitting on the couch with Beast Boy. The former was staring at the massive center window, which to my shock was somehow displaying a massive film. It was almost completely opaque, too, despite the fact that there was nothing behind the glass.

I ogled the screen as I followed Raven over to the kitchen, then jumped when Beast Boy let loose a loud groan, flopped on his side, and resumed sawing logs on the couch. I noticed that he was visibly disheveled, his left eye was swollen shut, and his right ear had a scratch on it.

"What happened to him?" I quietly asked Raven; I tried to ignore the way Robin stiffened and twisted his head slightly, but thankfully, he didn't fully turn around.

"Mumbo happened," Raven dryly explained.

"Uh, okay, that explains everything," I sarcastically retorted, rolling my eyes. "Thanks."

"Mumbo is a metahuman," Robin called, and I tensed, but he still didn't turn around. "He's a former magician whose metagene only activates when he comes into physical contact with certain fabrics and substances. He caught Beast Boy off guard by conjuring a piano out of thin air, then he hit him in the face with a rock while he was busy trying to avoid getting crushed."

I stiffened, then turned to stare at him fully.

"He conjured a piano out of thin air?" I asked, uneasy. "How?"

"Not sure, but the data we've collected suggests it's a spatial vortex-type ability," Robin easily shot back, setting both arms against the back of the couch, gloved hands dangling behind it. "He can pull things from nearby places and have them appear anywhere within his line of vision."

My mouth fell open without me meaning it to. "People can do that?"

"Oh, yeah," the boy drawled, nodding once. "That's part of the reason why everyone was stressed by the idea of having to deal with him and Mad Mod working together."

"Mad who?" I asked, frowning.

"Mad Mod," Robin repeated, and at this he did turn, giving me a glance. "He's a basket case who's obsessed with England. He's got no metagene that we know of, but because he utilizes robots, hypnotic holographic projectors, death traps, and illusions controlled by his cane, stopping him and Mumbo turned out to be a lot more difficult because, as I just said, Mumbo can literally teleport objects anywhere he wants. Today's arrests were hectic, to say the least."

I swallowed hard. "You say arrests..."

"Yeah," he said, mouth tensing.

"Where do people with metagenes get taken to?" I asked him. "Once they're arrested?"

"Alcatraz Island," he said promptly, and I froze, staring at him blankly. "Why?"

"Curiosity, mostly," I muttered, shuddering. "Alcatraz Island is actually where the judge wanted to send me. He said something about rumors of mistreatment being greatly exaggerated, but I wasn't really paying attention at the time considering everything that was going on."

Robin's face actually twitched upon hearing that, and Raven actually paused, hand hovering over a cabinet in the kitchen area. The former frowned at me for a second, then twisted.

"She's right, actually... the judge who tried her said something about that during the video of her court hearing, Robin," Raven noted, and he sighed heavily through his nose.

"I'll look into it tomorrow," he said sourly, turning around and focusing on whatever movie he was watching on the glass window. Looked to me like a psychological thriller of some sort. "I'll be going to sleep here shortly. Sally, your violin is in the white room you've been using."

"Thanks," I curtly replied, taking a seat in one of the chairs around the table. I tiredly set my head on my arms, staring at nothing while the low volume of the film and Raven's movement around the kitchen filled my ears. The scent of cooking food met my nose not long after.

I turned my eyes on her, watching as she used her powers to flip the thick slabs of toast in the sizzling pan, right along with an egg, and cinnamon sugar. In both hands was two plates, but black ringing energy covered everything else she was using to cook.

Honestly, her power seemed really handy, I couldn't help but marvel at it.

"Do you ever feel cold?" I quietly asked, struck by curiosity; she didn't break focus.

"I do, yes," Raven droned, "but not in the way you mean. Even though our powers function similarly, everything else is completely different. From origin, to cause, to the side effects."

"Side effects?" I curiously asked, lifting my head. "There are side effects?"

Raven didn't answer for a bit, and after a time, I thought she wouldn't.

She was focused on cooking, after all.

I was just about to close my eyes when she rasped, "headaches."

I pondered that for a bit, wondering of other metahumans experienced stuff like that. The feeling of freezing from the inside out was normal for me, no matter how much I hated it, and even now it was weird feeling the ebb and flow of own my body heat.

Chilly tingles still touched the inside of my chest, and I looked at the window.

Saw the rain pelting it.

Even though I was tired, I focused my mind as hard as I could, grimacing, trying to picture a tornado touching down, trying to clear the rain away... and even though I felt even more exhausted than before, my vision was covered by that same strange blue haze. I grit my teeth, focusing as hard as I could, so hard that something in my head started twitching almost painfully. I could only watch, breathing hard as the rain slowly, little by little, eased away.

The pouring torrent eased into little droplets.

A few minutes later, and the water-heavy clouds outside began to disperse, parting. I let out a soft groan and sagged into the table, arms and legs tingling numbly, breathing hard.

It was way harder that time, I thought, touching my sweating forehead. "Jeez."

"Thank you," Robin quietly called, but I just flapped a dismissive hand, every part of me feeling like an overcooked noodle. Thankfully, Raven set a plate piled high with French toast before me not long after that, along with a smaller plate holding syrup and slightly melted butter.

I glanced at the fork and knife her powers dropped in front of me and sat up straight, digging in without a word. She took a seat in the same chair as before, and like the last time, she used her powers to tear off a chunk of her own French toast and pop it into her mouth.

Once I finished chewing, I looked up at her.

"Thank you," I said again, and her eyes flicked up from a book she'd snagged from between the seat cushions. "It's delicious."

She studied me for a bit, then raised an eyebrow at me. "You're welcome."

I nodded and returned to eating.

Thinking about nothing. Thinking about everything. Life. Death.

However, as I'd said I would, I intended to do as she'd suggested earlier.

For the time being, I would simply wait.

For what, I wasn't sure, but Raven always seemed to know the right things to say or do.

She always seemed to know.

And for once, I was just too worn down to do anything but listen.