Colors and patterns flashed across a screen, the lights playfully dancing on the shards of a mirror. Inside a container, a small, pink Barrett sat idle and dust-covered. It hadn't been used in a long time, and probably wouldn't be any time soon. Outside, the night rolled silently on.
The erratic display of digital lights and sound that came from the television in the Titan's meeting room cast flickering, disjointed shadows across the furniture as Beast Boy continued to concentrate on his video game. He had been plying since before sunset and continued to play even now, despite it nearly being 11:00pm.
"Kinda late to be going out," said Beast Boy. It wasn't a question, but more a statement. His eyes never left the game. His fingers continued to pound combinations into the hapless controller clutched in his hands.
"Kinda late to be playin' video games, BB." The pale lights from the television danced and glistened over Cyborg's metallic body as he paused by the door. Despite being as quiet as possible, Cyborg could not escape Beast Boy's sensitive hearing. Cyborg stood motionless, watching the younger green Titan fight through some alien jungle on an imaginary world.
"You've been down there for a week."
Again, it wasn't a question.
"I've been busy. The sub still needs some work."
Fingers danced across the controller. On the screen, a small, pixilated warrior continued to plow through an alien menace.
"I've had things I needed to get done. Things I should'a done a long time ago," Cyborg said, his face level.
"There's plenty that should have been done by now."
Silence, save for the digitized explosions coming from the television.
"Anyway, I'll be back soon. I don't know why it had to get cold here. Man, isn't the coast supposed to be warm during the winter?"
"It was warm here last year, remember?" Beast Boy said, his brow furrowed.
"Yeah. Yeah, I remember."
The silence hung like a dead weight between them.
"I'll be back soon."
Cyborg quietly left his younger team mate to his video conquests.
Colors and patterns flashed across a screen, the lights playfully dancing on the shards of a mirror. Inside a container, a small, pink Barrett sat idle and dust-covered. It hadn't been used in a long time, and probably wouldn't be any time soon. The broken heart-shaped box hadn't been fixed in a year, and as Beast Boy continued to play his game, he ignored the tiny voice that said it never would be.
He did not pause his game to wipe away the small, hot tears that ran down his cheeks.
Outside, as the cold February air blew, the night rolled silently on.
These are small ficclets, each under 1,000 words. Some happy, some angsty, but all enjoyable, or so I hope.
The Teen Titans are the creative properties of DC.
For story information, general fun or other such nonsense, find me on Live Journal. My account name is Ronoken.