Starting in on Season 2. We'll see what happens. Sorry if this is weird, I've been wrestling with it for a while.

I don't own the titans.

"You think that's gonna happen still?" The question he's been biting back all afternoon manages to slip past his guard. He didn't want to ask, not really. It'd be nice to get lost in the oddly thoughtful presents Star had got everybody and the equally odd and thoughtful traditions of her people's planet-wide friendship party. Nobody else really seemed that bothered about the dark and gloomy world Starfire swore had been waiting for them. But he can't just leave things alone.

If nobody else will admit to it, he will. The not too distant future Star swears she saw freaks him out. He doesn't want to believe he could do those things, choose to live that kind of life. He doesn't want to believe that his friends could either. But Star is always kind, always honest. She wouldn't lie just to make the team make up. She wouldn't pull at all their emotional weak spots, just to make them get along.

That nightmare future hadn't pulled any punches. It even managed to be worse than the antsy feeling left behind in Slade's sudden absence. Even though he wasn't as fully committed to chasing the madman's shadow as his teammates, the sudden removal of Slade's threat was still jarring. He had known they were being suffocated. But apparently the return of freedom had been just as debilitating. Maybe it had even been worse. At least before, they hadn't been pushing each other into what Star described as a team implosion.

If it's not gonna mess anybody else up, he shouldn't let it get to him. Or he could at least talk about it with Cyborg later. The big guy usually understands him pretty well. Plus he just knows so much about everything. But probably the best thing is that Cy doesn't treat talking with him like a chore. Cy would listen to him. Would probably have some pretty good advice too. He would manage to wrap all of his concerns up and then throw them away. But no, he just has to spill his guts to Raven instead.

Raven hadn't moved from her spot since Star pushed them all into the couch to listen to the mind-numbing, nearly unending, non-rhyming friendship poem. Gracefully perched on the edge of the couch, she looked like a statue. Actually she had probably participated as much as a statue would have through the slapped together party. She hadn't even blinked when Starfire had draped extra jingle bells around her neck. You'd think from watching that the empath hadn't even noticed her teammates cavorting around the common room.

But he's at least conversational in Raven at this point, so he can tell the difference. The only thing that betrayed her performance was her eyes. They were too sharp, too focused on Starfire swinging Robin through the complicated moves that made up some kind of traditional Tamaranian dance. It's small, almost too small. Easy to miss or misread. Just like the only sign that she's noticed his outburst is the slightest raise of her eyebrow, the teeniest downturn at the corner of her mouth. She takes effort, doesn't give anything easily. But he knows that at this point too.

"I mean, that someday we're all just going to fall apart and leave each other?" He pressed gently, glancing at the room's center just in time to catch a tentative Cy being coaxed into joining the dance. Honestly, it looks a little bit more like a combat formation disguised as dance moves. He's done enough fighting to sort of see what could be strikes and blocks. But Star's people seem to have taken it to the extreme. Which seems to honestly be the actual Tamaranian tradition. Extreme food, extreme power, and extreme entrances all suggest Star's people don't quite understand moderation.

Raven normally sighs when she has to talk to him. He's used to it. Usually her sighs are because he's done something stupid or he doesn't understand something important. He gets those kinds of sighs plenty. But the sigh she gives before answering is a sigh she normally doesn't use. It's the sigh that means whatever happens next, he's not going to be very happy.

"I don't know. I suppose it's possible. Nothing lasts forever." Her eyes followed Cyborg as he was suddenly twirled through the center of the room and into the wall. "All we can do is enjoy this and each other while we can." She sounded resigned. Less than resigned even. It's like the fact that their team, their family may be celebrating a friendship carnival for nothing deserves no more concern than changing the TV channel. Any warmth he'd found in this silly little party has suddenly grown dim. Even the joyful sound of their friends' dizzy, breathless laughter only sends chills down his spine.

It hasn't been all that long. Or at least, it doesn't feel like it's been that long since the five of them all stumbled across each other. But at the same time, he can't help but feel like the Titans have been together for decades already. It's hard to think of any kind of future without all of them either.

"You could at least try to be hopeful about things."He tried to keep his frustration out of his voice, but something in the way she stiffened said he had failed. He doesn't really feel guilty though. They are going to lose this. Someday, they may never see each other again and it's like she doesn't care!

He wants to rip the string of tinkling bells off his neck and grind them into the carpet. Or maybe eat the rest of whatever glop Starfire has made and get food poisoning. Who knows, maybe go into the past or future or even another dimension to find a version of the girl sitting next to him that cares even a tiny bit.

But that's not fair, isn't it? She can do it. He knows she can. He's seen it, felt it. Knows better that to believe the lie Raven keeps insisting on. Nobody would be in this line of work if they didn't care. But she refuses to admit to it like it would kill her. Like the actual admittance of feeling would rip the world to shreds. So maybe her emotions are dangerous. But this lie she has been clinging to has to be just as bad.

"That's childish. You can't ignore the truth because you don't like to hear it. Nothing lasts forever. Things fall apart. Bad things will happen and there's nothing we can do to stop that." Her apathy stings. Cuts straight down to his core and spits right into his resolve. Places her heel against his neck and grinds his face into reality.

He hates that phrase. Hates it. Because every time she says it, the Raven he's been trying so hard to learn disappears back into the shadows. All too soon now, he will have spent years attempting to pull her out from behind the walls. But she doesn't care about that. She doesn't want to join him in the sun and she refuses to allow him into the shadows.

"But that's not good enough…" He doesn't realize he's angry until he hears the venom lingering like glue in the cracks of his voice. There is something there, something she won't move past. The wall that he's banged his head against a thousand times now.

"Too bad. There really aren't any other options." Raven's voice is low, matter of fact, and quiet. Completely emotionless. But her words still ring in his ears like she's shouted at him. Raven doesn't shout though. She hasn't even bothered to look away from their dancing teammates.

It is with a sudden rush of clarity that he understands. Warp's future is correct in that they will be distant. Except that the distance is not something doomed to develop. It already exists, has always gaped between them.

He has already come as far as he will ever be allowed. She will always be distant. That is (always has been) their fate.

"I don't care! That's not good enough!" Just like always, he is her opposite. Loud, shaking, and far too full of feeling. But the other three are being way too loud now to notice the miniature clash in progress. It mixes in easily with the boys' shouting and the sounds Starfire is coaxing out of what he's hoping is a Tamaranian instrument and not some kind of animal.

"What would you suggest then?" She's still speaking to him softly but he knows better. From experience, from what feels like decades spent fighting at her side. Because he's already spent what feels like a lifetime fighting with her. He knows the lack of heat to her words is a threat, not the absence of one.

"I don't know, but that's not fair. I mean, what are we all doing? If nothing changes anything, then nothing matters! It makes every single thing about this…" One hand flies up to gesture at everything. A simple movement that tries to gather up everything that makes up their world.

Their home. The city resting just outside under their care.

Their friends, laughing and playing together.

Himself.

Raven.

Both of them together.

"…Stupid." His anger drains out of him like air from a balloon. "It makes all of this stupid." Without that fury backing his actions, he feels just as stupid. His chest feels too full and yet completely empty all at once. It's his fault, but also hers. Except Raven has made it perfectly clear she doesn't not want any part of him or his world. So maybe this is totally his fault once again.

Finally, finally she looks at him. And just as suddenly he wants her to stop.

"There are things in life that cannot be changed, no matter how unfair they seem." She cuts him to the core again. But it's different somehow. He doesn't know how but it feels like they aren't talking about Warp anymore. Her words aren't surrounded by irritation but something else. The instinct skittering through his body says he's fighting but damn if he knows what.

"Yeah maybe, but you have to try first." His voice doesn't break or waver and that's something. Today has been harder than it should have been. His life has been worse. That's why he has to be right. There has to be a point. Otherwise there's a dozen quiet ditches out there he should have just been satisfied with.

"You think you could stop fate by trying?" Her question hangs between them like a hangman's noose. The subtext is clear, the same question Warp challenged them with so many hours ago.

Who do you think you are, trying to challenge destiny?

He doesn't know. Well, he knows he would try if he had the chance. That answer is easy, written in his blood. He would try because that's what he is. But it's also a fact that he's clumsy.

Maybe it's the mind-reading, or the emotion-sensing. Or maybe she's become just as conversational in him. Whatever it is, Raven seems to find her own understanding of his answer.

"Your worldview is both brave and idiotic." She sighs. Apparently he doesn't understand something important.

"You think I'm brave?"

"Pigheaded stubbornness isn't a quality worth being be proud of, Beast Boy."

"Monkey see, monkey do."