AN: Blame Tumblr for this one too; there was an idea that ran along these lines, and it was too good to pass up.

Warning: there's only tragedy from here on out.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Titans or this song.

My Sunshine

"You are my sunshine… my only sunshine…"

Raven has never had much of a singing voice, in her opinion; her trademark rasp overpowers the notes, years of conditioning to eliminate any speck of emotion running in direct opposition the very nature of music. Still she sings.

Because Garfield asked her to sing to him.

Contrary to what some might believe, Raven knows many songs, in many different languages. From the Beatles' greatest hits to a Tamaranean lullaby she learned to soothe Starfire, the sorceress has quite the repertoire in her memory. Now, though, that encyclopedic knowledge of music has deserted her.

She can't remember which songs he likes. She can't remember any songs at all.

Her mind is a blank that belies the maelstrom in her heart. There will be hell to pay in Nevermore, but for now, her powers are in check. They're useless here anyway. And floating out of her throat, free from the fetters of conscious thought, is a song she'd all but forgotten.

Her first memory of it is hazy, tied to a high fever and a cool, damp cloth on her brow. Fragments of words, a feminine voice muddled as though heard from underwater. Her sole childhood recollection of her mother's love… and she had almost lost it.

Garfield had brought it back to her as she lay bleeding out in his arms, even before he had become her Garfield. His voice crooning the forgotten melody had pulled her from the shadows' grasp long enough to center herself, long enough to slide into a healing trance.

He'd saved her life with that song. And now she strokes his head as it rests in her lap, and she sings the same song for him, knowing it won't save him.

Nothing will.

The serum, the Logans' cure that put the beast into her boy long before she ever met him, is now taking its payment in full. Garfield's DNA is unraveling itself with every passing moment. His skin has already lightened to the palest green, more streaks of sandy blond splitting his emerald mane even as she runs her fingers through it. And still Raven sings, because Garfield asked her to sing to him.

And because she can do nothing else.

Her healing powers are useless here, her mastery of magic no more effective than a prayer to some indifferent deity. This fate is more inevitable, more immutable than the prophecy of her birth. There is no sorcery here; only life, circumvented for the briefest instant, returning to its natural path.

Her Garfield is dying from the inside out, and it is supposed to happen.

"You make me happy… when skies are gray…"

Oh, how he makes her happy. No matter the situation, he can summon a smile from her. He's become so good at it over the years. So many of those years, she'd wasted. Wasted in silence, in solitude, in denial of the things this boy made her feel. Raven would give anything to reclaim just one of those years, but she can't turn back time… and now their time has run out.

"You'll never know, dear, how much… I lo— I love you…"

When that fang retracts into Garfield's mouth, becoming nothing more than an ordinary canine, Raven's voice cracks. His features are growing less defined with every labored breath he draws. All that is unmistakably her Garfield now are his eyes.

Despite the pain clouding those eyes, they still sparkle when he looks at her.

"Love you… too, Rae," he wheezes, and her next breath catches in her throat and turns to a sob. The tears she's been holding back begin to rain on his face, and he reaches a trembling hand up to rest on her cheek, thumb wiping under one of her eyes even as more saltwater flows down to replace what he sweeps away.

Raven's teeth chatter and her chest heaves, the ugly sounds her closed throat catches escaping through her nose instead. Her blood pounds in her ears; if she stops now, she'll never finish. And so Raven sings, because Garfield asked her to sing for him, and because she can do nothing else… and because she will not waste Garfield's last moments in grief.

Demons, even half-demons, live a very long time. She has a veritable eternity to mourn him… and not nearly enough time to say goodbye.

"Please don't take… my sunshine… away." As the last word leaves her lips, Raven takes a breath and intertwines her fingers with his. The air between them is thick, laden with every unspoken word that will never pass between them. She waits, watches as he sifts through them and chooses his last ones.

Garfield's hand tightens around hers, his chest rising as he rallies his strength. "Raven," he whispers, and for all the agony he's holding in, that she can feel him holding in, he still says her name like it's the most beautiful word he's ever spoken. "Thank you… for being my sunshine."

"Always, Garfield," she chokes out, not caring that her response doesn't make sense. He's never been one for logic anyway, and if she has just one word to send with him, it's going to be always.

Her Garfield favors her with one last smile as his eyes slide shut, and then he goes still. Raven holds her breath, some part of her believing that if she waits just a little longer he'll spring back to life with a gotcha! and she'll punch his arm and kiss him silly and they'll share another fifty years together.

It's a foolish thought, but the most outlandish of hopes is often the last to perish.

It survives until his features fade completely, leaving nothing but smooth, pale skin.

And then Raven weeps.