Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ More Painful ❯ More Painful ( One-Shot )

His hands seemed to almost melt over the heart-shaped box, deep, miserable pools contracting and flexing over the profound image within his possession. Its painted surface, slightly faltered against the moonlight that had chose to seep composedly through the window, shined dully with a sort of low-quality contrast amongst a finished, beautiful room. A finished, beautiful room for a girl who no longer existed, for a Terra that didn't want to remember.

 

The curtains within the confinement ruffled in the breeze, which managed, in some way, too seep through the window's seals and cracks. He could feel the shadows those curtains cast dance upon his petite, green frame, curving and whirling over reminiscing, hollow eyes that could only continue to stare at the box with utter despair. Night after night, ever since those words she spoke at the high school, he had the bitter urge to toss the bed sheets off of him, trudge himself through his room, down the tower's dim hallway, and seek the tranquil yet strangely depressing space of her room. The act wasn't decided: he almost subconsciously made his way there, to that empty, restless chamber. Luckily none of his friends had caught him in the involuntary act so far, for he could just imagine Robin's serious and impatient expression. `Give it up, Beast Boy. She's not back, and she's probably never coming back…look, I know she was important, but this has got to stop,' BB could clearly picture the Boy Wonder harshly saying. `Even…even if her stone figure still isn't there, we can't find her. Just give it up.'

 

Give it up? How could he? She was everything to him. He'd…he'd die without her.

 

He could no longer peer up at the star-studded ceiling of Terra's room and be reminded of her. He could no longer envision that silky blonde hair when he skidded a pebble across the island's surrounding waters. His gloved fingers could no longer press the shattered glass of the House of Mirrors and remember the story of a confused little girl with nowhere to go and no one to trust. Except he wished he had those reminders, visions, and stories still there.

 

As Beast Boy's ears lowered and his hands gently lifted the creaky top of the heart box, revealing an old mirror, he tried, once more, asking himself the question. Was it more painful to see Terra's old self, a collection of memories all piled into one unbreakable purification, or the living breathing one, a Terra he could talk to and no longer talk to at the same time? His shoulders shivered coldly, and he thought, for the slightest second, he could spy the image of a Tomboy blonde on the corner of the mirror. A thick, familiar voice reached the edge of his mind.

 

`Just let go.'

 

“Huh? Terra?” He partly gasped and partly exclaimed, whirling around in an instant to search for his friend. All his acute vision could find, however, was the pitch blackness of the girl's forlorn room and the constantly flowing curtains.

 

“Terra! Please be here!” He continued to shout, even though he internally knew he had only been seeing things and that no bit of hope could be left. His voice rose in strength and passion. “Terra! Please! Just come out, just come out as the person you once were! Please!”

 

His only reply was the faint echo of his words traveling amongst the room's walls.

 

The pulse of his heart started to quicken, harder and harder, until he was ready to believe it would burst through his chest. Moist fists clenched, he could feel the presence of hot tears welling in his eyes, though despite his emotional weakness, he fought to hold them back. He fought till the salty exertion built and built under his optics, nearly on the verge of seeping onto his cheeks like ocean water tipping over a dam. Jagged teeth gritted, he bolted his head away from the pitch-black corner of the room and tried not to allow himself to shed tears. His grip tightened upon the edges of the heart box.

 

Don't cry, He thought with both frustration and sadness. His knees started to deeply tremble until they could no longer bear his weight, causing Beast Boy to collapse on them with full force. Don't cry. The old Terra wouldn't allow it; the one that had the coolest powers and the coolest smile and the coolest like for anchovies and the coolest hangouts. The one that I almost kissed. The one that I could've…loved.

 

His whole body fell, shadowed form sprawled onto the dense carpet and home-made box released from his hold several feet in front of him. He wished those final images, the ones of Terra's impersonator standing with him under the light of the school window, simply never existed. It tore him apart to just remember the words she told him, and the way she just vanished from his sight like the dust that slowly spiraled under morning sunshine. Steady tears, finally breaking through his barrier, glimmered in the passing moonlight and streamed down either side of his olive cheeks.

 

“Terra…maybe somewhere out there…you miss me,” He commented to no one in particular through silent weeping. “Maybe in some part of that replica of yours…there's you. And I won't stop searching until I fulfill my promise. I…I'll never stop.”

 

The tears could only continue until his stomach wrenched and his eyes grew swollen with sobbing. And then, all very quickly, all too quickly for his own tastes, his eyelids began to flutter. With each passing moment, they became heavier and heavier until he felt like solidly flexing open an eye was as difficult as lifting an enormous weight. Eventually his yearn for sleep prevailed over his strength.

 

Beast Boy appeared to be resting quietly, though in reality, his dreams consisted of metal-overtaken Terras and Slade and the new Terra's mouth forming to the shape of the words, “Just go.” They fueled his sorrow and frustration and fear all at once, causing him to continuously turn on his side as he slept.

 

Strangely, however, a spark of warm colors, textures, and feelings suddenly cooled the beginnings of his nightmare before they came to terror. Still mostly asleep and hardly focused, Beast Boy could only assume the source of the change was an inviting hand that stroked his shoulder and back pleasantly. His own rigid body, tense and unnerved, quickly melted away, accompanied by the vision of a raven. At first, only seeing its bleak figure, he thought it were perhaps another bizarre icon of the dream world, but he had come to realize the bird's shape was more rounded and soft, and that its presence brought on a tranquility that loosened every prick of his mind.

 

“Raven?” He softly spoke out in his sleep, a content smirk itching its way onto his features.

 

The reply was perhaps a tad surprising, but he barely noticed, too absorbed in his pleasurable dream. Nonetheless, the voice was confident and liquid smooth, like the tone of a mermaid or beautiful siren. “Yes. But I'm here for you, in fact, everything is going to be just fine.”

 

And, as Beast Boy's eyes flickered slightly, he thought he could almost make out the silhouette of a hooded, definitely feminine figure in front of him.