Goodnight

Standard Disclaimers Apply. Reviews Appreciated.


Cyborg… has eyes of deep, steely grey. One is no longer human, but his gaze is still that of wisdom beyond his years that truly knows pain.

Beast Boy… eyes of forest green. Young. Hiding. Hiding behind humor. Masking the hurts.

Raven… her eyes are dark. They are indigo. They are the night sky. They are haunted.

In all these gazes, I see so much anguish. I see what it is that draws this team together. A communal pain. A communal loss. I can understand this pain. It is tangible in its own, cutting way. It laces each small smile with deep regret. It twists each light hearted laugh into a bitter shaking of fists against fate. Do you know this? Do you see what I do?

Perhaps you see the horrible things that lie dormant behind my own eyes. Perhaps you see beyond the optimistic jade and are aware of the fact I too have played my part in the twisted destinies we have been blessed with. I almost find this comforting. I can sympathize. I can empathize with this kind of brokenness. What I cannot conceive is you.

Robin… what I see in your eyes… is what I do not see. When I look at you, I am presented with the eternal mystery. I am presented with two blank stares of white contained in a thin, but protective obsidian hedge. I stare and can perceive only a hurt so deep that anonymity is your escape. A new life is what you hope for. What you have created is nothing but a sorely placed bandage over a festering wound.

The pendulum of time continuously swings and your secrets grow older, but the cuts remain fresh. It is frightening to hear the bitterness that is ever clawing to edge into even your most affectionate words.

I am standing alone. Fourth floor. Room B3. In front of the wall of windows. Behind me, there is a mirror. It hangs on the wall like a silent phantom. It reflects the image of my back like a shadowy form standing planted before these glass panels. I see the night unfurled in all of its lonely glory. It is a conqueror. It vanquishes the warm light of day, but has no one to share its victory with. I fear the night. That is why I stand here, alone in this unused room of the tower. The night and the mirror are my companions.

There is dust at my feet. With every stirring of the air in the room, the dust is sent swirling across the floor as if trapped in some invisible vortex. My thoughts are scattered at this time in the night. Part of my heart is pulsing with my intense fear of darkness and of aloneness. Do you know why I subject myself to this silent, haunting room each night?

It is to remind myself that I can fear. It is to remind myself that I am mortal. And that you are mortal. I am dancing with my fears in the endless wait for someone to cut in. Love binds two mortal souls and makes them an immortal union of pure, untainted emotion. Even when love is tinged with sadness, it does not wilt but rather blossoms as a flower does to rain. I want this immortality. I crave it as passionately as any. But for now I am mortal. I will remain a single, lonesome soul until it is you that comes and offers to take up the last dance.

It will never come, though. I know this. You have your secrets. They are your heart's captors. Your soul is bound behind a mask. This mask… it romances you, Robin. It feeds you lies. It whispers illusions of life without painful memories. Despite the convincing kisses of your mask-lover, denial will not release you.

Today was supposed to be the end of the world. But you held enough hope within your crippled spirit to save us. You and our friends are likely to be asleep, slumbering peacefully in the realm of dreams where the wraiths of the past will choose to lie submissively or stab deep with invincible claws.

Robin… what is it that you dream of? What is it that decides whether you will be crying out into the night or snuggled deep in the remnants of your will? I see it… despite the immense hope your heroic spirit carries, your will is slowly dying under the blade of your silence.

I pray that at least tonight you are sleeping peacefully. I pray that the swelling of hope and defiance in your being has fueled enough euphoria to shelter you through tonight… because Robin, I will not sleep tonight. I will stand here and I will fade into my thoughts. I will cease to exist in reality. I will indulge in the pleasantries of recalling memories in which I was able to stand at your side.

I find it lovely to reminisce on your words. You spoke to me today, when I was lost in thought, and you told me that you wished to help me in any way you could. You told me you would be there for me as you had been there for Raven. You told me you did not want me to hurt.

I asked you what it was that brought you to think I was hurt. You said you could simply tell. No explanation. Well… there is only one way for me to stop hurting. And that is to be given the chance to free you…

"Starfire?" your voice comes soft and surprised to my back. You see what the mirror sees. A rooted figure strung to the tether of the ebony sky. I do not look your way.

"Robin," I say. I am neither surprised nor expectant of your presence.

"What are you doing here?" he asks. Of all the rooms of this tower…

"I might be tempted to inquire similarly of you," I murmur. I hear you walk over.

"I come here to think. Sometimes the roof is too comfortable… you need a sharp wake up call once in a while," you explain.

"And this is a wake up call? Is it because this room has been left to go on its own?" I ask.

"You could put it that way. It's just realizing the contrast between this and the rest of the tower and realizing how close places like this are… and we don't even realize it," you continue. I nod. Perhaps we share a somewhat similar sentiment.

"Raven is alright, I presume," I say. You nod. I am not looking at you, really… but somehow you know I will see your nod. "That is good."

"Star… you seem kind of distant. Are you ok? I understand if today's been a big shocker…" you try to console a hurt that is nonexistent. My lips curve up into a tiny smile. I look at you, carefully, and I sigh and shake my head.

"I am no worse for wear than you or the others. I am thankful for your concern, though. I have simply been thinking as well,"

"The end of the world will do that to you…"

"Indeed," I whisper, and I reach out and trace the edge of your mask. Your eyes close and you grow solemn. You now know what it is I have been thinking of. You now see that I have been pondering you. Will you ask to cut into the dance with my fears? Will you see that I think of you out of love? Will you make us immortal? You remain silent and your eyes remain closed. I draw my gaze off of you and onto the floor.

"Goodnight, Robin. I will leave you to your thinking. I am done with mine," I say. You open your eyes and regard me for a moment before you nod and say:

"Goodnight, Starfire. Cheer up, eh?" I do not let you see the cold that passes over my features as I exit the room. Night has never been good to me… I tend to overanalyze mysteries that do not wish to be solved…

fin