Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans.

She catches the pole with her black magic. For a second she feels the pole in her complete being. She can feel the tough iron of which it was made, the intent of the owner who threw the pole at her teammate, and the cold that rushes through her just before she drops it. Robin flicks his eyes to hers is in a brief thanks before he jumps back into the fray.

Cyborg is working on his baby when she walks in. His hands are reaching for a wrench but it's just out of his grip. She casually releases a black tentacle letting it wash over the wrench. She gives it a small surge of warmth before setting it down right near Cyborg's outstretched fingertips. The wrench is warm when he touches it but it works like a charm when he tries to loosen a bolt. He never sees the black fade back into the girl with a fond ghost smile on her lips.

Beastboy is shoveling food into his mouth which is just gross in her opinion. He's going on and on about some video game that she is only paying half a mind to. That is until he makes a comment about how with her half demon freaky side she would really enjoy it. Before he can leap away his tofu delight is wrapped in black. She lets the black fly up and land on his face with a loud splat. The tiny gross feeling she gets as she pulls the magic back in is definitely worth the look on Beastboys face.

Robin has always felt so close to the shadows. Sometimes at night when he is playing with the dark, jumping in and out of the moons bright light, he wonders why he feels so at home. It's always black he touches when he lands against the wall to avoid detection of anyone. It's the black he whispers to. He doesn't realize that the black hears what he is saying and silently helps him slip out of the way of a sleepy Starfire.

Starfire doesn't notice the black at first. She doesn't see it holding her steady until she stops shaking. She dries her tears for her broken relationship with a black towel. She never cares to find out why the object she used turns it's normal pink after she's okay again. Never thinks that her painful, sad tears went anywhere other than the washcloth.

They never will know how the black absorbs everything. They never see how their pain, fears, wishes, desires fade into black. They never realize that their inky black everything turns and turns inside her soul self. They never know the black that worms it's way into their lives. And they never will know that she absorbs everything they do, say, or feel like a sponge. But that's the black's burden - to be everything and nothing.