Robin threw his mask at the wall with a wild grunt, all because it was November. Because November smelled like rain, and to him, rain smelled like death; thick and wet and raw, like a wound or a corpse. Like hurt. Like pain, deep and stinging and dark. But it was just a scent. And he was just a boy.

So he collapsed onto his bed with a solemn huff and breathed, welcoming the familiar smell of his bed sheets. His head pulsed and his body ached with fatigue and stress, with the consistent yet demanding task of being the leader of the Teen Titans. And of course he loved being abnormal, being the stronghold and the pride of such a plagued city. But sometimes… sometimes it was just too much.

They had almost lost. And he had almost lost her.

He breathed a smile and thought of her, imagined her. In his arms, in his bed, her lips on his, huge eyes closed in a moment of peace.

Robin sat, stood, and opened he door to his bathroom, blinking his eyes in the suddenly very bright light. He pressed a hand against the mirror and gazed into his own eyes miserably. So many fanatic girls had tried to rip the mask from his face, and none succeeded. And though he didn't want any fingers but hers to pry it from his brow, he was afraid to disappoint her. His eyes weren't anything special, just plain boring grey. Not like silver and not like rich stones, nor like diamonds, but like clouds. They were matte and plain and smooth, not deep. Not caring.

Closing his eyes, so as not to see himself, he stripped of his clothes and tossed them aside, quickly turning on the hot water. At first, he winced as it stung his skin and sank into the cuts on his shoulder, but as his skin grew accustomed to the heat, he relaxed, and leaned against the cool tiled wall.

"Agh!"

The cuts burned against the pressure, and he quickly stood straight, letting the water soak the caked blood on his back.

Damn bitch.

Robin poured some body wash on his skin and washed away the grime, wincing all the while. When had he become so soft and since when did he groan at cuts, when not a month prior had he been stoic at the feeling of broken ribs? Surely he wasn't sick, for sickness would not change the way he fought or how careful he was, and it wouldn't make him lust for his teammate.

Maybe that was what was making him so vulnerable, so weak.

If I push her away, drown this stupid crush, then everything will be normal again, and I can just fight without worrying. I wont get distracted every time she takes a hit.

But in the back of Robin's mind, he knew that the absence of her presence was what drove him insane, and sanity would only come when she was rightfully his.When she would sleep in his arms and put her lips to his and surrender herself to his warmth, that's when he would become what he once was.

So with a towel wrapped around his waist and his pride damaged, Robin left the steaming bathroom and picked his mask up off the floor. Placing it over his eyes, cringing at the clammy feel of it on his wet face, he wondered why he had even taken it off at all.

After slipping on a grey shirt and some red boxers, he slipped out the door. Sneaking through the halls so as not to wake his friends, he crept down the stairs and stepped into the kitchen. But as he lifted his head from his feet, he quickly darted behind the wall and hid at the sight of dark lavender hair.

Raven

He poked his head around the door and watched as she leaned against the red couch, almost sitting, with a phone in hand, clad in a white loose sleep-shirt and black hotpants. Robin felt his blood pulse as he noticed that the shirt was cropped and worn and he could see her toned midriff and slim waist.

"No, no everyone in the tower is fine-… no, I was the only one hurt- Look! I just want an appointment to see if I there's anything I need to take care of. N- I realize that it would increase your business if the Titans got their check ups from you, but right now, you'll just have to settle for me."

She sighed with fatigue and annoyance and placed the phone back to her ear.

This was the time in which Robin decided to go in officially, so as he could listen in and comfort if necessary and so he could get a closer view of Raven's short shorts.

"I don't really care if I have to take a later appointment, I just need one for Wednesday. … Five o' clock? Yeah, that's fine, my old doctor retired and I don't like the new one. Yes… no. A check up. That's all. No… I'm quite sure that I am the only one in need of a doctor. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye."

She looked up at him finally and his staring eyes met hers.

"What was that about," he inquired curiously, still watching her as she hung up the phone.

"Ugh… I just want to make sure that I'm getting proper antibiotics. It's been stinging again."

"Your wound?"

"Yeah…" she said uncomfortably. Raven didn't want to admit that it was an injury, as that would suggest that she was caught in a moment of weakness in which she could get hurt.

Robin nodded and turned to the coffee machine.

"Want any?"

"Nah, I'm good with tea."

"You always have tea. Try some coffee."

"I want tea," she stated aggressively, as is he was demanding something of her.

Robin smiled thinly. "…Tea it is."

"Chamomile."

"I know."

Robin poured some water into the coffee maker and set a teapot to boil. He turned to Raven and watched as she riffled through objects and papers and became particularly attentive when she bent down to pick up some papers. She began to straighten, so Robin quickly averted his eyes so the fact that he was staring at her ass wouldn't be apparent.

She turned and looked at him curiously, the slightest hint of a smile on her face.

"What," he asked with cautious interest.

"Nothing… I've just never seen your hair non-spiky."

"And?"

"And nothing. I've just never seen your hair flat." She shrugged, staring at him somewhat meanly, offended that he was still so careful and suspicious whenever she was near. "It looks nice, you should consider wearing it like that on an outing. I think we've all got cancer from your hair gel fumes, so it would be a nice break."

She walked closer to him and he pushed himself up so he sat steadily on the counter, his face growing hot as her hand reached out to touch his hair. Within the last few months, Raven's inhibition had fizzled, and she was more open. She still didn't show much in terms of emotion, and she certainly didn't open up any more than before, but she wasn't afraid of closeness, of touching. Touching didn't require a smile.

Her hand brushed through the strands in front of his face and Robin stared at her through his mask, eyes wide and amazed and completely, radically love struck. He was glad that she never read his thoughts or mood without permission.

"Rae?"

"What?"

"Can you read the others' minds?"

"Not the way I can read yours," she told him unblinkingly, her hand tracing his scalp. "Since we're directly connected through the mind meld, reading your mind is like talking on the phone or reading a message. It's completely clear. But they're like listening to a fuzzy radio channel. I can make out the sound and the mood ok, but I have to focus to make everything out. I guess it's more like morse code rather than a radio."

"Cool analogy," he joked, closing his eyes and memorizing how good her cool fingers felt against his forehead.

"Well I do try oh so hard."

"And you're oh so humble as well."

"Yet another skill of mine."

"See, the pinnacle of humility."

"Well I don't see you correcting me, Boy Blunder."

Robin leaned boldly, fighting his fear and inhibition to capture her lips in his, to do what he had wanted to do since saving her from her nightmares. But as his hand was about to touch her ashen cheek, she yelped loudly and crumpled to the floor, gripping tightly to her bandaged thigh.

His eyes darted from her leg to her hands to her lip, which was being bitten so hard, he feared her teeth would sink all the way through.

"Stand up and sit on the counter," he ordered worriedly as he hoisted her off the floor, supporting her with all his weight. She nodded, and struggling, she pulled herself onto the smooth surface.

"Do you mind if I look?"

Raven shook her head and watched through clenched eyes as Robin pulled the first aid kit from the cupboard.

Carefully, he sliced through the ribbons of gauze and tape and bandages and pulled them from her skin, almost recoiling at the sight in both pity and fright. Fresh and gaping, lay a deep wound almost two inches in diameter, the flesh raw and red and glaring. Out of habit, her mind uninhibited by pain, she desperately grabbed his hand, squeezing tight to avoid crying out.

"Who wrapped your bandage," Robin demanded, looking at her furiously.

"Beastboy. He felt bad that I had taken a hit for him, so he-"

"You let Beastboy wrap your bandage?! He doesn't know a damn thing about cleansing a wound! That's like letting Starfire teach English at Harvard!"

"He did just fine!"

"No, he didn't! If he did then it would have clotted by now, you wouldn't be in this mess, and I wouldn't have to deal with this!"

Robin blinked as the words left his mouth, not quite knowing why he said what he did, not knowing why he had shouted at her when she had done nothing wrong. He stared up from her wound expecting to be sent hurling against a wall or at least a verbal lashing, bust she just sat there, looking away from him, as if she was a child who had just been scolded.

"Rae…"

Robin brought his hand to her cheek and she winced as if he had slapped her.

"Don't touch me," she hissed lowly, dark tendrils curling around her arm, and swallowing his hand in shadow.

"Rae, I didn't mean to shout at you, I was just worried."

"That was some funny way to show you care, oh wise leader. Aren't you supposed to control your anger when one of your followers is injured?"

"Look who's talking," he shot back angrily, holding up his wrist to show the fading line where her magic had touched. "I thought that you had total control now."

He heard the thunder of a shattering window overhead and a lightbulb above them flickered out.

"Apparently not."

"I'm working on what I need to work on. I meditate every day so I don't endanger this damn team. You have no right to judge me. "

"I'm not judging you, I'm making a statement based on fact. You haven't controlled your powers yet. Now hold still while I put a bandage on."

She tried to glare at him, tried to be furious at him, but he was being kind and was concerned, which made her feel wanted and appreciated. So she just sat and watched as he gathered the disinfectant and the gauze. Pouring some of the liquid onto a paper towel, he grabbed her knee and held it still.

"This might sting, okay?"

"I know."

"Are you ready?"

She looked at him blandly and nodded. So he took her consent and pressed his towel covered hand onto her wound and waited for her to get used to the acidic sting. She grabbed onto the ledge of the countertop and shut her eyes calmly, absorbing and dulling the hissing pain. She focused on his hand on her knee and how careful and gentle he was being, and it seemed to diminish the pain.

"Are you still good."

"Yes."

"'Kay. I'm gonna put the bandage on now. It might be a little tight at first."

"I'll be fine," she snapped. "So just hurry up."

"Fine. Just calm down."

She was taken aback at his tone, which was annoyed and condescending.

"What the hell is your problem?! I didn't do a damn thing to you."

"My problem? What's your problem?! All I've done is help you!"

"Help me?!" She exclaimed, appalled. "All you've done is treat me like a child!"

He stood and his mask, now dry, wrinkled in anger.

"I am doing nothing but helping you! So you could be thankful rather than accuse me of talking down to you when all I'm doing is caring about you!"

"I don-"

But Raven stopped short as she felt liquid creep against her hand. She raised her palm up to the light and moaned, aggravated, at the sight of blood and the bleeding injury.

Robin quietly wet a second paper towel, sat back down in his chair, and began to wipe her leg clean of the blood.

"I don't need to be taken care of," she said quietly.

"I know you don't need it and I wasn't calling you incapable. I was helping you because I was worried and because I wanted to."

"But you shouldn't be."

"Why," he demanded.

"Because you don't owe me anything."

He looked at her mutely and soaked the towel again.

"Maybe I wanted to."

She huffed in frustration and looked at him avoid her eyes.

"I don't want you to," she said.

"Well after letting Gar bandage you, I don't really think that you're in any position to refuse."

"It's my fucking body, Robin!"

"And I'm your leader and it's my job to keep the city safe by keeping you safe. So shut up. You're gonna make it bleed more."

She looked at him, her eyes almost sad.

"Why are we fighting?"

He looked at her, his face holding the emotion she wished she could show.

"I don't know," he sighed.

"Cause I keep starting fights?"

"And I keep egging you on."

She nodded and took his hand in hers, surprising both of them. Just looking at him and just blinking, smileding tiny smile, making Robin's heart jump and thud and then drop into his stomach.

"Your birthday is coming up right?"

"Yeah. In December."

"What do you want?"

Robin knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted her. Her body, her eyes, her bloody wound that he would surely have to clean once a day… if not twice. He wanted her to throw him against wall when she was pissed and rant about how she was the only intelligent one on the team and come to him when she had those dreams about her father. He needed to finally have that courage to sweep her onto his lap and kiss her till the morning came.

But he couldn't say that. So he shrugged.

"Tell me when you figure it out," she smiled, pouring the boiling water into her teabag filled cup. "Later Boy Blunder."

He grinned at her as she limped out of the room, sending him a chaste blind wave.

I am definitely wearing my hair like this more often.