*A/N* So, we've reached the end of another story. This one has been a little more difficult to write, I must admit. But I'm quite proud of what I've produced. I also decided to give more of a bittersweet ending this time around, since this story was substantially darker than the last installment. Enjoy! *A/N*

Dr. Gustavos Scissors sat in the spotless waiting room of Cedar Grove Sanitarium, idly flipping through an outdated gossip magazine. A woman next to him clutched her purse for dear life, almost as if she was afraid that an insane person was lurking around the corner, waiting to greet her with a shiv.

She jumped when the receptionist called her name, hurrying over to the desk and exchanging quiet, heated words with her before a muscular orderly escorted her through the double doors to see whoever she had come to visit.

Dr. Scissors looked back down at his magazine, skimming an article highlighting the drug-fueled escapades of some brainless starlet nobody cared to remember. A few more minutes passed before the receptionist called him up to the counter.

"Dr. Gustavos Scissors. You're here to visit your nephew?" she said crisply.

"Yes. I take it the modifications I made to his inhibitor dial have prevented any attempted escapes?" Dr. Scissors inquired.

"There haven't been any emergencies in the past week." The receptionist replied. "Mr. Down will escort you to his room."

Another orderly beckoned him over and led him through the double doors into the almost uncomfortably shiny white hallway beyond. Walking in silence save for the faint clattering of machinery coming from the belly of the Sanitarium, Dr. Scissors spoke up.

"Has his behavior been satisfactory?" he queried. The orderly nodded.

"So far, he's been very cooperative." The orderly replied. "Matter of fact, he's barely said a word since he got here."

"And he hasn't associated with any of the other patients?"

"No sir, he's been in solitary for the entirety of his stay so far."

"That's good."

The two rounded a corner to another door. Through the entryway was a large room, one side separated by a large Plexi-glass window, a desk below it with a few chairs and speaker grilles attached to the glass.

Three people were behind the glass, two men in white stood side by side, and another man sat in front of them, his back facing the window.

"There he is." The orderly said, meaning to sound friendly, but unable to hide the warning tone in his voice.

Dr. Scissors approached the glass, the two orderlies gesturing to Anton, who slowly spun about in his chair to face his uncle. He was wearing a pale green asylum gown, silver handcuffs, and a disinterested expression.

Dr. Scissors sat himself down and clicked the 'Speak' button on the desk in front of him.

"Hello, Anton. How are you?" Gustavos said welcomingly.

Weatherman gave no response, other than unflinching eye contact and a brief sharp suckling of his teeth.

"I hear you've been well-behaved, I'm proud of you. At this rate, you'll be out of solitary confinement in no time."

Anton refused to respond once again, and never broke eye contact with his Uncle.

"Anton, I understand that you're angry with me for placing you in this facility. But I promise you, that the people here aren't your enemies. They'll help you change."

Weatherman raised an eyebrow and finally moved forward, clicking the 'Speak' button.

"You think I'm mad at you?" he asked.

"You aren't angry?" his Uncle asked back.

"Are you kidding? Uncle Gus, you've got things twisted." He said, chuckling.

Gustavos couldn't believe what he was hearing. Had all of this carnage really been a cry for help?

"Where would I be without you? If you hadn't picked me up from the clink two months ago, I would still be the son of a Father I never knew and a Mother who wanted nothing to do with me."

"Anton, what are you talking about?" Gustavos asked pointedly.

"These past few days have been the highlight of my entire life! I didn't start living until I picked up this." Anton gestured to his chest.

"Without you, I would've just been another face on the street. Just some repressed punk who tried lighting a guy's house on fire. I would've been Anton Terrell Scissors. But he's gone now, Gustavos. Don't you see?"

"Anton, don't talk like that! You know that you're much more than that to me."

"Oh, it ain't just you, Gus. It's the entire goddamn city! Have you seen the news? Read the paper? I'm an honest-to-God celebrity! People all over are talking about Weatherman! The super-villain who took on the Teen Titans and nearly won!"

Anton threw his head back with delight. "And have you seen the way they treat me here? I get my own room, my own Doctor, I got people who get paid to watch me 24/7! These two?" He gestured to the now uncomfortable orderlies flanking his side. "They take time out of their lives to tuck me into bed and get me food every day! I've never had it this good!"

Dr. Scissors was in complete shock. Attention. That was all his nephew ever wanted. All those years of neglect had let his hunger grow to hideous proportions. He never had any material motivation for stealing the LTAS-I and attacking innocents. As long as the News dedicated some of their precious minutes to him, or the Press wanted to know everything about his life, or five of the most powerful, respected members of Jump City used some of their energy and effort to put a stop to him, he was happy.

"You see, Uncle Gus, Anton Scissors is who I used to be. Not anymore. I've woken up. I am Weatherman, and I won't be ignored."

Dr. Scissors had nothing more to say to his nephew. He quietly said his farewells to the elated patient, and watched helplessly as he gladly went with the two orderlies back into bowels of the Sanitarium. Mr. Down escorted him back into the lobby, and the receptionist wished him a pleasant day. He felt no need to respond as he exited through the sliding glass door, walking to his Jeep. Unlocking the vehicle and sitting himself in the driver's seat. Putting the key in the ignition, he froze. He remained stock still for a few moments, before wilting onto the steering wheel and crumbling into tears.

"Anton…" he gasped. "Anton… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Anton."

2:00 AM

Beast Boy did his best to stifle a yawn as he exited the Amphitheater. The Friday the 13th marathon had started at 12:00 PM that afternoon, and eight movies later, with a half-hour break between Part 4 and Part 5, the credits for Part 8 were just now rolling.

"Tired?" Raven asked, her hood pulled up as they walked down the sidewalk, the streets still buzzing with cars.

"You're not?" Beast Boy replied, rubbing his eyes.

"This is far from the longest I've gone without sleep. I've pulled off two days and nights once."

"Why?"

"I was reading Dostoyevsky, and I simply lost track of the time." She replied, with a touch of embarrassment.

"Jeez. Well… did you have a good time tonight?" the changeling inquired.

"Yes. I was about to ask you the same question. I noticed that you fell asleep through most of Part 8."

Beast Boy shrugged. "Come on, can you blame me? I mean, 'Jason Takes Manhattan,' really? That's the best they could come up with? Can't wait for 'Jason's Luau of Death!'"

Raven allowed herself a quiet, girlish chortle. He was probably too tired to notice.

"That would still be better than 'Jason X,' where he goes to space."

"That's the problem with most of these horror movies. They always have to do something stupid, like send the axe-wielding looney to Saturn or Cancun or something." Beast Boy complained.

"Well, everybody runs out of ideas at some point. Personally, I'm somewhat impressed that they managed to milk the idea that long."

Raven noticed the frown on her boyfriend's face. "You…did enjoy yourself?"

Beast Boy's ears perked up as he turned his frown into a smile. "I'm not mad or anything, I'm just tired. Yeah, I did! The others were pretty awesome, but it got so late, and the last one sucked."

"I agree. You picked the right one to sleep through... Do you mind if I ask you which one was your favorite?"

Beast Boy scratched his head. "Ummm… that's hard. They all kinda started to blend together…. You first."

Raven took a moment to ponder. "…Probably Part 4. I appreciate that the acting wasn't laughable, and that it included black comedy without becoming a cartoon. The gore was satisfying, too. Very unadulterated."

Beast Boy raised his eyebrows incredulously at this last part before shaking his head.

"You are one twisted sister, you know that?"

Raven simply gave Beast Boy a smirk.

"You still haven't answered my question." She said.

Beast Boy thought long and hard, trying to remember which movie was which and whether or not it was Jason or someone else doing the slashing.

"OK, I got it. Part 7."

"'The New Blood?' Interesting choice." Raven said. "Why?"

Beast Boy bit his lip. "Do you want me to be upfront?"

"I'll get an answer out of you either way."

"True. Okay, I know this is corny, but… It kind of reminded me of you."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "A movie about a rotting, water-logged serial killer in a hockey mask reminds you of me? How flattering."

"No no no, not like that. I mean, like, the main chick, she's psychic, and she gets all destructive when she gets mad, but at the end, she was using her powers for good to help that other dude and kill Jason. It's like a…a…parallel, you know? Between you and your powers and how they sometimes control you, but you can, well, I mean you do, I just-"

Raven placed a palm on his mouth. "Don't hurt yourself. Leave the thematic analysis to someone who actually has a brain."

Beast Boy scowled and brushed her hand away. "She wasn't as catty as you are, though."

"Come on, I was just kidding." Raven replied dismissively, but her face fell when she saw the expression on his face. Since he was so tired, he was overreacting to his emotions.

"Garfield, seriously."

"You know, I bend over backwards to be nice to you, and you just kick dirt in my face every time. What do I have to do to, huh?" he snapped, crossing his arms and looking away.

Raven exhaled. He may have blown her joke out of proportion, but she couldn't hide her guilt about hurting his feelings. Maybe he was right, being so rude all the time probably did wear on his nerves.

"Garfield…"

"What?" he replied bitterly.

"That card you gave me yesterday afternoon… I just wanted to say, that I feel the same way."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, I think I feel more than 'serious,' as well."

Beast Boy stopped in his tracks when the words finally sunk in.

"Wait… you mean…"

"I know it's rather premature… but… would you be comfortable with me saying that I think I'm falling in love with you?" Raven said, the shadows of her hood unable to hire her fiery blush.

Beast Boy's eyes became as wide as quarters as his mouth fluttered open dimly.

He gave no response, his flushed cheeks eventually shaping into a small smile. He put an arm around Raven's shoulders and she replied in kind, garnishing the move of affection with a small kiss on the side of his cheek. The two spent the rest of the walk home in silence, since words weren't powerful enough to express the complex blend of emotions swirling around them. The two Superheroes disappeared into the night as they passed the final street lamp, rounding the corner to the dirt road that led to the Tower.

*A/N* So... I've written everything I've wanted to write about for this couple, but I feel as though I'd be leaving a lot of people behind if I moved on. So, my next story is going to be a request-fic! If you want to see an idea of yours put on paper, PM me a BBRae idea, and if it's concise, clever, and clear, I'll write a one-shot about it.

Anyhow, it's really been a treat to write these two stories, and I never thought they would grow to be this popular. Thanks so much to everybody who's followed their development, it means a whole lot to a wannabe Chaucer like me. I guess I'll see you guys around, and please, don't be shy to PM me an idea, I am a non-judgmental individual, I'll be happy to consider any idea (within the realm of decency, of course.) Thanks again, all you wonderful people! *A/N*