The Titans still aren’t mine. I wrote this in March, and just found the ending today.

Empathy
I waited a few minutes before giving the old line.

I didn’t have to meditate. They know, but didn’t say anything.

I won’t lie for myself, but Cyborg has enough to deal with. The two visitors don’t know that I never take the elevator to my room. The three Titans in the common room know the garage is through that door.

I say his name, nothing else. There are no emotions to read, his body language is stiff; something big is wrong. I walk towards the T-Car. General maintenance wasn’t always on schedule, when villains interrupted.

He doesn’t say a thing while we drain out the old oil. I’ve spent enough time in the garage to know just which container of oil is used during late spring. His car was pampered, but ‘she’ (as he insists on calling her) is more than reliable. She needs to be. That car can recover from anything. Cyborg and I spent five weeks in the garage after Terra’s betrayal, when she totaled that car. I had fumed in silence for most of that time. Terra had known every weakness.

Starfire’s protectiveness for Robin, my control, Cyborg’s car, Robin’ sense of fairness, and Beast Boy… Terra still was working on him, no matter what she was calling herself.

One time, Cyborg said more than usual. He asked if he could borrow an ear. I agreed, of course, and had listened while he explained about Terra.

A few months later, he had mentioned her again, but the topic changed while he thought in spoken words. The last time they had fought the HIVE, Jinx had looked at him like he was just another Titan. No accusatory glares, no barbed words, no cool glances- and then he had seen her with Kid Flash and understood.

That was why he was in the garage. Kid Flash and Jinx were visiting, again. She isn’t a criminal, now. She reformed. Jinx is sarcastic, confident- and happy.

Empathy isn’t an emotion reserved for half-demons. I know which emotions he feels, but I know that I feel the same.

Cyborg wants to talk, I know, but he can’t find the words.

This time, I ask if he would mind being a sounding board.

He listens, and an hour has passed before I realize. I had more to say about Terra than I realized. I didn’t know how much it would help, to describe just what had happened when we fought. I’ll still have nightmares, but maybe those won’t be as common. If she could betray us… I trust the others, but nightmares leave no quarter.

I don’t realize just what that sharing means until later, when daylight will last for another half hour.

He’s going, again.

Jinx and Kid Flash are gone, so it’s only us. Starfire frowns. Robin bites back a disapproving question. I stare at the same page of a book until the old language comes back to me.

Cyborg only glances at Beast Boy. Of all of us, Cyborg knows him best.

He still leaves. A green hawk soars into the dying day to fly over her neighborhood, ‘just in case.’ He’s checking the foundations for cracks, sidewalks for unexplained damage, concrete for changes. He’s looking for a sign that she’s ready to come home, that she remembers him.

She won’t, I want to tell him- but I don’t know him well. Not anymore. He’s been more distant since he saved us all. He doesn’t need us like he did. He knows that if we were gone, he could fight. He would not crumple.

He has grown up, just like we wanted. He can stand on his own two feet, or four paws, or whatever it is he has. He thinks that he can rescue her.

She didn’t want to be saved, Beast Boy. If she is the same girl, she still won’t. If she isn’t- what are you going to do?

Cyborg’s eyes meet mine for just a moment, when a flying silhouette is in the distance. He doesn’t say a word, but I only need the emotion.

Empathy.

There’s someone else. Maybe we would have a chance, otherwise- but we don’t. It’s not much of a consolation prize, but it’s enough.

The worried glances from Starfire and Robin are too much, so I walk away. I phase through the wrong door, and he follows a few moments later. We’ve been meaning to check the brakes. It’s a long process, to search for anything that could possibly go wrong, but we both have someone else on our mind.