Disclaimer: I own nothing.
This fic is strange. It will have some OOCness because that's basically what it's about. BB falls into depression after Terra's death, and some things come out in him that no one sees. The first chapter is more his reflections on things than anything but it is important to the rest of the story.
Rated for suicide, strong language, sexual content and references, blood, violence, and possible questionable themes. Wow, I'm just horrible, aren't I?I have rated it just to be safe.
Go right ahead and review, I thrive on reviews. But if you flame you are going to be ignored so if you really don't like the story, just don't devote your time to insulting it. Find a better use of the time you would waste.
It hurt. It hurt so much, and no one knew. It was something no one ever saw. But it was never anyone else's fault. It was his own. If he would let them see, they could help him. But he didn't want help. He wanted release.
He had never been this way before she died. This deep, black hole of depression before. He had been generally happy and optimistic. But now, everything had changed. He was left in a constant pit of despair since her death. Why the hell did things have to end this way? Why? Was is just some general rule to abide by? Did happy endings just not exist?
BB sat there in the center of the floor and stared at nothing. There was nothing to see but the same four walls and the same ceiling and floor, the same old surroundings day after day. Nothing ever changed. Nothing was bearable. Nothing was acceptable. Nothing else mattered. He couldn't take it. He just couldn't take it.
He had been so happy when Raven had finally been able to restore her to her original, less rocky state. It had been possibly the best seven days of his life, it had been just like it had been before her betrayal. Things had been worked out. Conflicts dealing with the treachery Terra had committed against them had been smoothed over, differences had been set aside, and finally there was peace. They all accepted the fact that Terra had made a mistake. And life had gotten to an almost unrealistic high.
Those times never last.
Beast Boy stood up and walked across the room to the door, exiting and making his way to the bathroom, where he stood in front of the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. As he toweled it off, he glanced into the mirror. For the first time in a long time, he hated what he saw. The fact that people saw him as just another freak had been dulled by his friends, by Terra. By the acceptance he found here.
But the feeling of belonging was gone now. He felt so dead and began to realize that he'd always been dead. Dead on the inside where no one could see. Where even he couldn't see. He had never known before, when he had been so happy. He had been so unconscious to what lie there inside him. Everyone has depression, despair, hopelessness lying inside. The trick is to not let it take over. To be stronger than your internal monsters.
BB hadn't been. He had been so shattered by Terra's death that he had allowed the monsters to take over. And now that's what he was. A monster. A cold, broken monster.
Maybe be was being ridiculous. Maybe he was just rambling on internally about melodramatic things that would leave him alone once their effect had ebbed and he was free from this feeling. He knew he was going to be, or so said the rational, still Beast Boy side of him. But the other new side, this monster, told him it just wasn't worth it. And maybe it wasn't worth it. He was starting to listen to the monster, he was so deep in this feeling of worthlessness. He was a whore to the despair. He gave away so much for his moments of clarity in the depression. For moments when he could see that everything was going to be alright someday.
He had done so many things in desperate attempt to numb the pain. Thousands of tears, dozens of cuts on the skin, bleeding so sinfully yet it felt so right. And when the blood stopped flowing, he was still no better for it. And yet somehow his mind convinced him every time that maybe if he tried it one more time he would feel that release. But he knew no release. That was not release. It was only pain and suffering that he could feel physically, but it barely dulled the pain inside.
But he knew another way.
He knew he should try to go on. He knew his should try to fight. He was a Teen Titan. That was what they did. They fought on even when it looked like there was no way to win. But the Teen Titan side of BB had dissipated almost entirely when he had seen her body broken.
Of course there were people who hated Terra for causing so many disasters when she was out of control. Everyone has there enemies. But BB had never thought that he would see so much hatred and cruelty against something so innocent. So penitent. He could still recall the one who killed her. He had wanted to believe it was a stranger who never knew Terra.
But it was her own sister.
Never before had he imagined that so much anger could be channeled from one sister to another. He had thought that the whole deal with Star and Blackfire was bad. But that was nothing compared to Terra's situation. And he hated Terra's sister for it.
And so Terra's sister had set out for retribution for what Terra had done, whatever it was. BB never got it out of her. He remembered Terra, her blood staining the ground, turning the white snow a deep crimson all around her. Like a dove with a broken wing, she had seemed so fragile.
Much of her skin was missing, for in her anger her sister had attacked it, ripping bits from Terra in fury. BB had arrived to late back at the tower from the arcade. That's where the Titans had been. Terra had left early. BB had sensed that something was wrong, and when he realized it, he had left early too.
But not early enough.
Terra had bled to death. Slow and painful for her as she died, and for him as he watched. Blood had covered everything. It was almost amazing that someone could lose that much blood and still be in only several pieces. BB had arrived only in her final moments, to hold her hand while she died, to mourn over the loss before it had truly happened. And when she had stopped breathing, a great hole had been torn in his chest, metaphorically, and he had never been the same. This was why he wanted out. The pain destroyed him and when he was able to sleep, the graphic images haunted him.
His friends couldn't understand. They hadn't known her the way he did. They had been trying to console him for weeks now, but it did little coming from people who didn't know. Raven probably understood, but not the way he wanted her to. Not the way he wanted anyone to. And now he was beyond help. He should have sought it before he reached this point. And now he was finally getting out. He had been planning this for days, saying his goodbyes to his dearest friends in the world. The ones who had made him a Teen Titan and filled his life with the joy it had held until the day she had died. And he could never thank them enough for all they had given him. But this was something he had to do. He knew they would hurt like he did now, he knew it was selfish.
But the rational, normal side of him wasn't in control. The monster was.
BB reached slowly into his pocket and took out the razor blade he had kept there for so long. To slash, to cut, to bleed whoever necessary. He had needed it often. But he needed it now more than ever.
BB stared again into the mirror. He felt sick, he felt alone, he felt deranged. And he felt so sorry for what he was about to do. What he had gathered the mental state to do. He whispered his apologies as he lifted one arm to expose the wrist and committed the evil deed. Then he repeated it with the other wrist. The blood began to mix with the tears that dripped into the sink.
This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I changed my mind when I got more ideas. Reviews are much appreciated. See you in the next chapter!