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My Silent Undoing	By : hentaigoten Category: DC Verse Cartoons - Teen Titans > Het- Male/Female > Beast Boy/Terra Views: 1368 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-my silent undoing
- 1
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters depicted within this fanfict- all characters and their likenesses are property of DC Comics. All song lyrics are by queenadreena, and are from the album Drink Me, published by Rough Trade Records, who own all applicable rights of ownership.

Warnings: Serious mental issues ahead. Won't say what, but they are serious, so don’t go any further unless you’re up to dealing with it.

Author Note: A quick word, before you dive into this. First, I feel I must apologise for not updating Titans: Triptych, sooner. Writer’s block and university work have rendered my attempts at trying to write that a bit of a struggle. Hopefully writing this will break that spell of writer’s block…
And now, on with a little bit of info about the genesis of this fict. The diea came to me to do a fict set to a queenadreena song, but the quandary remained- what song, what story, what universe, what characters? My answer came when I saw some Titans fan art, and I came to a revelation about the character design of a certain character.
This revelation is, I hope, apparent from the context of the story. But I digress- the concept was born. Much like my previous songfict’s, it will help if you know the song in question. It sets the mood for the whole piece, and is- I hope- reflected in my writing style. Knowing the song certainly doesn’t hurt- and besides, it’s a good song. Or at least I think it is.
And, an odd enough event occurred while I was writing this- it ended up with my most conventional fanfict pairing I’ve yet written. I suppose it could be because the focus is on one character, and not on a relationship I was feeling strongly in favour of.
But now, enough with my ramblings. On with the story- please do review and tell me your opinions on it. What was good, what was bad, what disturbed you- the works, as they say.
Enjoy…

My Silent Undoing

My silent undoing
My wasp in a jar

Water lapped over the edges. Spilling over, staining the floor in damp patches.
She hunched forward. The water was hot, stung her skin. The water was dirty already. Her pores unclogged.
Her hair tangled in front of her face, a dirty blonde cascade. She’d tried cleaning it. Caked in dirt had flowed off. Clumps of hair, knotted together.
She reached to the shelf, cluttered and chaotic. Calmly tore the comb through her hair. Wincing slightly as clumps of hair came loose. Tangled lumps that drifted atop the water.
She ran her fingers through it. Breaking the surface. Creating miniature wakes.
She hurriedly glanced away.
Water had nothing to do with her. It wasn’t her element. It wasn’t her…
Bathwater splashed onto the floor. Gurgling noisily down the drain.
She left damp footprints on the floor. Towels piled messily where she dried her skin until it abraded. A bathrobe, loose and baggy, tied in tight.
She left the room silently. Her bare feet quietly padding on the semi carpeted corridors. Making her way to the rooms. Their rooms. Her room was in amongst them…
Hers. Not that it was…
She paused by one door.
Her fingers brushed lightly against the cold metal, livened by the nigh childish scrawlings on the door.
She looked away, lowering her gaze.
She couldn’t. Just couldn’t…

Protruding hips and skull and spine
Rib cage cuts a clear outline
All roped up and pinching in distorted and disfiguring

The table was piled randomly with food. A haphazard attempt by haphazard flirters.
They crowded round. Eating, talking of whatever passed in front of their forebrain. Comfortable in their surroundings, trusting in their companions.
Most of them talked simultaneous as they ate, at least.
Raven, naturally, seemed utterly detached. Her gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance. Her eyes unfocused. Zoned out from reality, seemingly. Only mechanical eating gave her life. Only dodging clumps of food gave her intelligence.
The others were all loud, gesticulating. Awkward glances between two, cause of sniggers to the other two.
One leant over to her.
“Quiet, much?”
“Oh, just…hungry, is all.” She replied with a shrug, the strewn bits of food testament to her statement.
“Just…you normally talk as much as I do sometimes, Terra.” He said, something in his tone, a trace of…worry?
Couldn’t.
“Not always.” She said, reaching for more of the abundant food.
He turned away, something catching his attention. But he glanced back, and she quickly altered her gaze, where it ran into another.
Raven’s eyes seemed to bore through her head. She shifted uncomfortably, turned her attention to the plate. Filled. She wouldn’t starve here.
Her stomach lurched. Muttering excuses, she left the table. Her pace quickening as she left the room. Walking faster. A jog turning inexorably into a run.
She slammed the door to her room shut behind her. Her heart hammering. Her breath coming with difficultly. Sweating. Her eyes darting about frantically.
The room was messy, she knew that. She’d spent so long not having anything, now that she had it, she couldn’t deal with it.
Just couldn’t.
She just couldn’t deal with it.
She bolted for the door. Barging it open. Barely a toilet and a sink in here. Not like the proper effort down the corridor. She was lucky she had this, they had said. Most others had been inexplicably blown up, they had said, gazing steadily at a clearly guilty team mate.
She couldn’t blame him for that.
She was lucky, really.
Truly, she was.
She reflected how lucky she was as she was huddled next to the toilet, retching. How truly fortunate, that the marvels of science had allowed such convenient disposal of waste. How truly lucky she was, to have this device where so many others had fallen prey to teenage boredom. How truly auspicious to have been given this room, to be here in the tower.
She was truly blessed.
She lay, sprawled on her bed, afterwards. Gazing up at the ceiling. The ceiling was connected to the, w-alls. The walls were connected to the, f-loor. The floor was connected to the, g-round. The ground was connected to, h-er…
There was a sound. Carried first through metal and then through the air. Something came softly tapping, so softly rapping, that she scarce heard them at her chamber door…
She raised her head up from the bed.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me. Can we talk?”
“…alright.”
She sat upright, bringing her legs up to her chest, tucked neatly. It wasn’t perfect. But it’d…do.
The other came gliding in, almost. Tread softly and carry a big stick. She embodied that. She’d never once heard Raven raise her voice when it was not needed, never once saw her move without need.
She was just as undeserving as the rest of them. Terra knew this. She knew it. She couldn’t…
“There is…concern. Not like you to leave so swiftly.” Raven said bluntly, gazing coolly and calmly at the figure on the bed.
“Just…didn’t feel up to it.” She said, looking away. Shifting uncomfortably. Her knees digging into her flesh. Bone into flesh. She didn’t like it.
Raven raised one eyebrow. Calmly, coolly.
Inhumanly.
She couldn’t forget that. She couldn’t let herself feel for the creature that walked in the form of a human. A parody of a human.
“Listen…I know you’ve got issues. Everyone here has. I don’t pry, but I can’t turn off being an empath. But…” Raven paused, almost…uncertain? No. She couldn’t be. She was being cautious, maybe. Not uncertain. She couldn’t be doubting herself. Not her. “But, if you need to, I don’t know. Talk. I’m here. We all are. Whatever you’re going through…you don’t have to do it alone. You know that, right?”
“Yeah…”
Raven stood there in silence. Terra shifted uncomfortably.
“I’ll…leave you to it, then.”
The sorceress headed for the door, paused. Her head half turned, before she decided better of it, and left the room, the door closing softly behind her.
Her head held in her hands, hair spilling over her face, obscuring the expressions that ran across it.
Couldn’t.
She mustn’t.
She couldn’t trust them.

She mustn’t.
Lies.
It was all lies.
Lies lies lies lies lies on top of lies…
Somewhere, buried under a pile of books and videos and clothes, something beeped loudly.
She scrambled for it. Tossing aside debris. Tearing through it. Her fingers clasping around it.
An oval, red edged with gold. Lighting up, sound emitting. She tapped a point on the edge. A voice emerged. Steady, almost steely tones. They reminded her of…
But it wasn’t him, she thought to herself. Not him. It was Robin. So much more serious than what he should be at his age.
When he spoke like this, she couldn’t help but feel a chill down her spine. Even relaxed, he was close to this tone at all times.
Control. The body and mind a coiled spring. The spring in a human weapon, ready to be unleashed with devastating consequences.
If only he wasn’t on this side. If only he had been trained by someone else…
She wasn’t the only one to think this. But none dared voice it in front of him. He may have issues with his…mentor? His father? The terms were interchangeable. But none could question him.
No wonder he wanted him on his side. He had lamented the fact to her. Explained so much about Grayson. Pitied the fate that put them on opposite edges of the board.
The voice…it issued terse, simple commands.
She scrambled for her uniform. Hating it as she put it on. It showed too much. It clung too tight. If only she could make herself suit it. She’d tried. How she’d tried.
She ran from her room, into the control room. Filled with screens, with sight and sound. A barrage of information. Robin, Raven and Cyborg close to the screens, debating tactics. She saw glimpses of some enemy on the screens. But her gaze was drawn to the interaction of the organic and the mechanic.
She’d heard what happened to him. Vic Stone, athlete. Gifted. A bright future ahead of him. Then the accident. An experiment. A series of experiments. She’d heard the story he told, and she’d heard the real story.
How the mechanical spread inside his mind. How his perception was changed, ever so slightly. Here and there. Enough to make him…dangerous. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But soon enough.
A voice brought her out of her reverie. She glanced round, saw the ever euphoric Koriand’r.
Euphoric. It wasn’t always right. After what had happened to her, was it any surprise she…
No. No no no.
Couldn’t sympathise.
It was because of what she went through, that made her so…dangerous. She might seem normal, or as normal as any alien could be. But she’d been through such horrors, her mind couldn’t be trusted. She had to remember that.
If only she’d done something normal about it. Like hunt them down. The ones who…it’d be normal. And then it would be done. Maybe she could talk to her truly, openly.
If only…
“Something on your mind…?”
“Not really.” Terra replied, gazing away. Her eyes falling upon a latecomer to the briefing. Being chewed out volubly by Robin.
She had to remember. His origins, his powers, his very nature. Everything that told her she must be cautious. She hadn’t known these things before. She knew them now.
She couldn’t…
She glanced away, keeping her gaze averted from everyone. Feeling herself flush.
“I may not know the most of these crushings, but I do think I know one when I see a one.” Koriand’r whispered, smiling benignly.
“Don’t. Not a word.”
“If…you insist.”
The voice cut through it all. Sharp and decisive.
“We got our mission, people. Listen up…”

My silent undoing
My wasp in a jar

She set aside the communicator. Placing it away, hidden behind a loose panel in the wall. Turned off, not transmitting any signal, dead, undetectable.
He’d been as precise as always. Questioning thoroughly, probing for details. She’d heard something in his tone, though. A sense of…what, exactly?
She couldn’t quite place her finger on it. Something…
Anticipation.
God.
He was going to move, soon.
Oh, god…
She sat still, her legs pulled up to her, her arms wrapped around them.
Robin had come today. He was worried. They all were, he said. About her.
Slade had questioned her, too. Asking if they were suspicious in any way. She’d said no. No suspicion. Nothing.
He’d been pleased. She was ready to move.
Two days ago, it had been Koriand’r. Inexpert, compared to the analytical and considered approach Grayson took, but radiating concern all the same.
She was ready to make the final move. The final part of her being here. Then he could help her, fully. Once they were out of the way. All the help he could afford. And a place of power, by his side.
One week ago, it had been Stone. He’d been almost brotherly. Or at least, what she imagined an older brother would be like. Joking, never taking a moment seriously. But the light of concern evident in his eye, in his pose, in his tone. Always avoiding touching the subject, but treading lightly.
Everything she wanted, would be hers. She could be perfect. Perfect control, perfect poise. Everything.
Gar never saw anything wrong. He just saw Terra. He didn’t see her ribs, biting through flesh. He didn’t see unnatural projections of flesh. He didn’t see limbs too long. He didn’t see the damaged grin.
Naivety was a wonderful thing, Terra thought. If only she’d believed him, earlier.
If only she hadn’t tried to flee from him in the first place, hadn’t met them all, hadn’t grown to know them.
If only she could forget.
She sunk to the floor, feeling her body shift unnaturally. Huddling to the ground, to the earth.
Her eyes closed. She could feel the pulse of the earth.
Warm, cocoon like.
But she couldn’t just sink in.
She just couldn’t.
She didn’t want the power, really. But the control…they couldn’t help her with that.
He could.

No photographs around the back
Emaciated ironed flat
Dehydrated cutting bones
Today I’m over 7 stone

Darkness enclosed the tower. Security systems hummed softly as they scanned the tower and it’s surroundings, diligent as always.
A figure crept through the tower. Silent, moving like it had so many times before.
This time was different.
It paused at a door, slowly slid it open. Padded softly through the room, through the mess within. To the sleeping form that lay within.
She moved soft, but she woke him. She spoke soft, but she woke him.
“Terra, what…?”
“Shh.”
She glided against him.
She ran her fingers along the side of his face. Lightly. Her gaze fixed on him, trying to ignore the shudder at the sight of her digits, long and thin.
A flurry of activity. Lips locked together wildly, frantically.
“I’m…” She began to say, stopped. She couldn’t say it. Even now, she couldn’t say it.
Every movement of his was eager, and carefully restrained. His hands running up from her waist as she shifted in the dark. Cloth rustling.
She didn’t want him to touch her when she was like this. She’d wanted it to be perfect.
She couldn’t have that. She couldn’t give that. She tried to tell herself he wouldn’t mind.
She kept her eyes closed as he ran his hands, his fingers, lightly over her. Night vision was coming into play. She didn’t want to see…
Bodies moved. Fabrics were discarded.
Hands glided over him, down him. She felt him pulse in her hand. Heard him groan, biting his lip to suppress the sound.
Slowly moved her hand. Lightly grasping. Slowly pumping.
His hand glided against her stomach. She hitched in a breath as his hand slipped between her legs.
Moving in and out. Inexpertly. She draped her arms over his shoulders. She felt heat against her belly, below her breasts. Pressed against her, moving away…
He lay her back. Fingers working inexpertly, eagerly. She shifted, her legs thrashing off sheets.
His fingers were slick, and thrust in deep. His other hand, gliding, moving softly. Finding. Gently gliding against.
She bit against her moans.
She rolled him onto his back. Sat astride his stomach. Felt him against her skin, pressing against her buttocks.
“I’m sorry.”
It was said. She’d said it…
Lowering herself onto him. Hearing him moan, feeling him pulse inside her.
Grinding atop him. Shifting in all directions. Feeling him tense beneath him, beneath hands that spread like rakes across his chest.
He called out, once. She couldn’t help her response.
She felt spreading heat.
She lay next to him. Felt him run his hands across the jutting bones of her ribs, her shoulder blades. She tried not to cringe.
“What could you be sorry for…?” He whispered quietly. His voice was wavering. She’d picked the right night. After such an intense day, after such an intense battle.
“Everything. I’m sorry…” She replied, not letting a hint of what her tears told enter her tone of speech.
He really…he really did. He must do.
He murmured something, his eyes slowly closing.
She watched him sleep, for barely a minute. Then she slowly climbed away, dressed.
She paused by the door, wavering. Deciding better of it, she left.

My wasp in a jar
Twinkle little star
My wasp in a jar

The communicator was taken out, ran against her palm.
She huddled against her bed, not climbing into it.
The pulse of the earth beneath her was all the comfort she had now.
She gazed up at the ceiling.
The faint luminescence of the stars flooded in through the uncovered window.
Finally, she pressed the activation key.
“I’m ready. Tell me when.”
- 1
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My Silent Undoing