Disclaimer: I do not own TT. If I did, this would be the second part of a three part finale and it would have more damn angst.

Okay! This is just a little one-shot.,...it might be hard to understand, but you should get it toward the end. And yada yada yada...considering a sequel if I can get my lazy ass up earlier to work on it. XD

What We Can't Have

I do not exist anymore.

I sit here, pretending I care. Pretending that I am happy, while they hold each other as if they were the only people there. While they revel in what they have, and what I do not posses. I have the urge to utter some remark, but I do not.

He wraps his arms around her, moving his fingers along her slender body, brushing just the right places to receive a shiver or a giggle, or a light, playful punch. Privacy is beyond them, as it used to be a virtue so long ago. Back then. Before.

Back when everybody knew, but no one spoke.

I twiddle my thumbs as time passes. Long streaks of light penetrate the foggy glass, warmed from our breaths, and cast shadows across the plush carpet that taunt my wants and needs and dreams of the imagination; a way that makes me wonder if I am out to destroy myself. If my goal is to taunt myself with the lasting images of their kisses, how they hold each other, rather than let reality do it for me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see, certainly, the "big brother" of the group to all of us. A frightening first impression, and behind the kind smile holds fears and memories that haunt him as the same haunt me. He simply sits a few feet away on the couch, occasionally completely turning his head to fix me with a stare surely intended to intimidate me into confession. I meet his eyes, and shake my head. It would not be right to deny friends. His piercing expression brands itself onto the cheek that I rudely show him as I turn away and instead let my eyes wander to them.

I ignore the front door opening. Probably another congratulation for the happy young couple. I try to also ignore the guilt that cuts through me like a knife and starts another pity party for my subconscious.

Big brother continues to stare, his dark eyes bombarding me with the unheard and unspoken questions: Why don't you say anything? Why are you letting this happen? If you were really in love, wouldn't you defend it?

Because, friend, I care about them. They are my friends. And who wants to be labeled as a jealous close friend on the happiest day of their lives? What a title that would be.

Another Titan enters, smile set and face aglow; I swear if you turned her pigtail, she would take off with happiness. I am surprised that the red-haired goddess leaves the safety of her hero's lap to deliver a fierce bear hug to Bumblebee, a member of Titan's east. Yet another guest happy, eager to spread the word, eager to throw a party.

Instantly I bite my tongue, for another not-so-well compiled comment nearly slipped my mouth. It would sure be something to see as I explained my way out of that one. And I'm not the best explainer. Although I sure would like to see their shocked faces when that sarcastic comment fell from my lips. Quite unexpected.

I hear everybody moving around me; I hear snatches of their conversation that they do not invite me to join.

I wallow in a pity-puddle for a time, then heavily rise from the couch, stalking past the fairytale couple and their friends.

God, get a room.

As the door shuts behind me, I snicker in spite of myself, for that was exactly what they used to tell me. Although I never have kissed.

As I wander down the dark hallway up to my room, I wonder if I should not have let myself fallen into her trap at all, for from their first meeting I knew their love would set them apart from the rest of us.

It began with a kiss, and ended with a kiss. Oh, what a perfect ending.

I am not used to thinking so complex, so deeply about one single thing. My mind can be faster than a hamster in a wheel chasing food, jumping from one subject or activity to the next without an inkling that I have stopped to think. I do think. I just think life is too short to spend time worrying. Although others disagree, that's my philosophy.

Heh. Didn't know I knew such a word.

Anyway, I wander in the hallway, watching strange things; the dust falling from nowhere, a bug crawl here, and wondering how I became so wrapped up in emotion. He said it himself; no inter-team relationships.

Look what happened to Terra after she became attached.


I frowned at my leader's sharp profile, silhouetted against the haunting moonlight. He was alone, as usual, quiet, as usual, and preoccupied, as usual. It was almost as if he had a routine.

"What are you doing up here by yourself?"

Without turning around, he whispered, "Just thinking."

"About what?" I asked, standing behind him; he remained silent.


I sighed, only to disguise the pang of jealousy that went through my very core. His sultry demeanor adamantly split me in two; I was so happy for him and yet, I wanted to tear him apart as if he were long-ago photographs I could not stand to look at anymore. I thought it was amazing how much he needed her.

"Oh," was my only reply. What could I say? That I am happy for you? That I am jealous? It took an insurmountable amount of willpower to keep myself from letting my confessions slip off my tongue.

I wonder. Is he thinking that right now? Keeping himself from saying how he feels?

"I keep feeling guilty...I mean, I've yelled at her. I've hurt her. I've lied to her. And after all that she comes back. Is that just a strong friendship? I don't know anymore," he trails off, hanging his head.

No, you don't deserve her.

"And for the first time...I don't know what to do," he admitted, closing his eyes and looking like a lost child, wishing all the bad things away.

And let me tell you, it is hard to see your leader-the one you look up to, the one you admire- become this upset. Usually, he is the one I turn to for problems. But I can't now, because he's the one who's carrying the world on his shoulders; or at least, the city's well-being on his shoulders, and I can't do anything to help. Only SHE can help. That is one reason why he needs her.

"I feel like I shouldn't tell her. I shouldn't make her worry. People have enough problems, enough bad memories, enough strife. Why should I put everything I wish would just go away onto her? I lo-care about her so much, I can't do that to her," he said, conversing with himself more than I. I breathe heavily, a couple times, to clear the dizzying anger that pierced my conscious as I heard him almost utter that word.

Love. Beautiful on the outside, heart-wrenching on the inside, and something that never lets go.

"You don't even know if you're in love," I snap, turning away with contempt. "Maybe love is right in front of you," I finish, wishing I could utter the name of the woman who did love him. If I could say that, he would put the rest together. Everything would fall together like the pieces of a puzzle.

I stalked off, went to bed early, and threw another pity party as I remember the look of confusion, anger, and embarrassment on his face.

And that night, we were both alone.

A gentle knock interrupts my thoughts, jerking me from a dreamland where everything is perfect and how you want it to be. Throwing back the covers, I demand to know who it is.

And once I hear her voice, my world falls away.

In my trip to the door I stumble upon her soft, gentle words, which float in through the door and reach my ears as if they'd glided in on a cloud. I close my eyes against the tantalizing images of my friend and my leader wrapped around each other, holding, caressing, kissing-

She knocks louder, sounding worried. The worry in her voice spoils me, for I know it is at my expense and I don't deserve it. I can only barrage myself with guilt-ridden memories as she explains that people will be coming over later, and that she hopes I will feel better so I can attend the festivities. After all, she says, you helped save the world too. You were strong, you have helped us twice now.

These compliments are flattering, but more than I can stand. I quietly say that I will come later. She sounds happier and leaves, and I can almost imagine her delighted smile.

What I don't say is that I will not enjoy it, especially if all that I see is them in the corner, with each other, and not with me.

So about an hour later, I reclaim my spot on the couch, and I stare out at the setting sun. It is much like before; streaks of golden sunlight casting shadows on the carpet; the shadows tease me just because they can.

Fate is damn cruel, I will tell you that.

I take a deep breath and survey the room. I am probably standing out, what with me sitting and not partaking in this "joyous" event. But I am far too dismal and unwilling to join in with everyone else. All I can think about were the treacherous hours, the countless times, the spur of the moment feelings that burst out at that last minute.

When you are staring Death in the face, your true colors show. If you are caught in lies before you die, well then, it says things about you. If you admit long-held secrets, they are things that you wished you had the courage to say. If you don't agree, let me hold a curved blade to your throat and watch you squirm. Nobody can keep themselves in emotional walls forever.

I am pacing for what must be the 50th time, but it is all I can do right now. Everyone is dying; mentally, physically, emotionally, even me. But for all the jealousy and torture I have been in the past few months simply being around the team, I wouldn't be surprised if I was already dead on the inside.

I am dying mentally. I'm out of ideas, I'm out of comfort, and I feel like an empty shell.

And the only thing that kept us-the team- alive, is physically dying before my eyes. I can admit. I'm so damn frightened, and so damn lost inside, I can't keep my thoughts straight.

I keep remembering; flashes of light, high-pitched screams, roars of anger, wails of sorrow from Titan and citizens alike.

A nightmare come to life: The sky is dark, the sun is gone, clouded with swirls of black, billowing smoke, which pours from buildings on every block. Society is broken and panicked; it is impossible to stop people from throwing themselves out of windows, some hoping to be caught, others hoping to just go to a better place, for they believe there is nothing left for them. Others huddle under tables, wailing, praying, clutching their loved ones and hoping for the best, although optimistics are few and far between on this day.

Losing control, I huddle on the pavement, soaked in blood to the bone as if I'd just stepped out of a bloodbath. Well, I practically had. I wouldn't let myself cry, but I hummed quietly to myself, trying to drown out the screams, the cries, that pierced my heart like sharpened arrows and now, my heart was bleeding. For everyone who suffered, for the team, and sadly, for me.

I watch the citizens gather around a crater that has blocked 51st street; anger rising, I pull myself off the ground and start strong-arming people left and right, which is the closest thing to shoving an innocent person and beating the living hell out of them that I can get. They back away and flinch, cover their mouths and cry at the sight of me; chalk-white, covered in the Brotherhood's blood-spill, and jealous.

"There's nothing to see here, people, move it! Let's go!"

"Thanks to the Brotherhood of evil, there's nowhere for us to go!" someone shouted, stepping out of the crowd, holding a blue kerchief to his eye and pointing an angry finger at me.

"So that' s MY fault?" I yell, turning away and keeping my head in the game.

And as the crowd parted, and I saw what had happened after she'd pushed me out of the way, I swear I wanted to vomit. Head spinning, I stumbled into the crater and saw, through the fog, I see him cradling her. For she was the only one that mattered to him at the moment.

I couldn't stand it. Covered in blood, lifeless, and in HIS arms?

I ran.

To where, I don't remember, but I heard them talk around me.

"She saved me! She saved me and now she's dying! She saved me! I'm alive! But she's not! OH MY GOD," I screamed, stumbling down an alley, still soaked with blood and now dizzy with nausea and jealousy. I remember babbling quite a bit more, but someone firmly took my arms and dragged me away from the throng, the disaster, the tragedy.

They walked with me.

Choking back a sob, I leave the sanctity of my mind and instead observe everyone in the room. The happiness in the atmosphere clashing against the severity of what had happened just three days ago angered me beyond comprehension. We saved the world again. We almost died. And no one seems to wonder, "What if we had died?".

I guess they are just happy to be alive.

My gaze gravitates toward the crowd: With the new couple in the middle of it all. I understand why they don't want to leave each other; they almost lost each other three days ago. Be that as it may, I can't help wanting it for myself. By "it", I mean the love.

That indescribable feeling of rapture and happiness that only one person can bring to you. To light up your dark days, to be your sunshine.

I thought I had that last time. But if I had, I wouldn't be where I am right now, pining over someone that will never take me any notice. Prince Charming has stolen her heart, and I am left alone, cleaning up after the ball.

And I hate cleaning.

And so I glare at them, pouring hatred into every breath, jealousy into every blink. I can't sit here and watch them be happy; they can have it, and I cannot.

With one last, shuddering breath, I push past an Honorary Titan and stalk out the door, determined not to be seen, but not being able to help the drama.

In the hallway, I lean against the wall and bang my head against it. For once, fate is not on my side, and there is nothing I can do to change it or manipulate it in my favor. The fairytale couple will ride off into the sunset, while happy friends cheer and cry and throw peanuts. Sorry, rice.

No, they are not getting married, but they might as well be, for they are a match made in heaven that will never suffer, never fight, and will have the well-wishes of everyone.

Everyone except me.


I look up to her vibrant, emerald eyes staring down at me with the air of angelic innocence. The ever-faithful boyfriend is at her side.

"Why are you out here by yourself? Please, you are not feeling the best?"

"Yeah, come on, cheer up! We just got through our toughest battle yet, and you're moping? Have something to drink, join us!" my leader offered, and not once did it sound like a command. It never did.

"Join us," she echoed, tugging on my hand impatiently. "Friends gather for festivities, and you must come," she repeated. "I really want you to."

Sighing and looking away to disguise the blush creeping up my neck, I accept and let her drag me back into the room, where the atmosphere of happiness is so choking and disgusting I feel, once again, like vomiting.

"Is it not wonderful with all of our friends here?" she asks, pecking her companion's cheek. I am ready to spit on him, and wipe that triumphant grin off his damn face, because he knows how lucky he is. Behind me, I can tell that my leader is wrapping his arm around her as we speak, and it is that picture etched in my skull that drives me to my actions next.

Whirling around, I pull her from his protective arms and pull her to me, and, knowing my certain suicide will commence after about a minute, I press my lips against hers.

The cheer and chatter falls away, and the room is silent as a tomb. She is not kissing me back, this I know, but I hold her there anyway, hearing her heart beat at a mouse's pace and I feel her stiffen considerably.

And the moment died.

Silence still blankets the room.

I push her away, toward whom she loves, and I meet his eyes. For being hidden, they can put you on the spot like a young child forced into a contest, despite the fact they don't play piano. The mask does not help me, for I am at a loss to what he feels.

"I'm sorry."

I run out, feeling lower than dirt, on top of the world, embarrassed, and considerably lonely.

"That was a very brave thing you did."

The only one who has spoken to me since my "show" is Raven. I still am all mixed up, emotion-wise, and every time I think of the look on Robin's face, I feel as if I'd betrayed him.

"Yeah, right. They both hate me, and he still ignores you, even though I know he loves you. I even hinted it. Is he stupid?" I ask, holding my head in my hands.

"He's not stupid. He's not in love with me. He's in love with her. But truthfully, I don't think you did this for me at all."

"But I wanted to help you too," I snap, flinging a rock into the crystal clear water.

"You wanted too. But in reality, you've helped yourself," she replied quietly. "Robin does not love me. He loves Starfire, and that's how it's going to be. You were in love with Terra, you might still be, and you don't love me anymore. Starfire...does not, and will not, love you."

I flinch. I can't bear to hear how pathetic I am. I couldn't have Terra, I couldn't have Raven, and I can't have Starfire.

"Maybe I'm not meant to love," I say in a whisper. The pity sets Raven off.

"I seriously wish you'd stop. Does it look like I'm any better off than you?" she snaps, curling her pale fingers into a fist, representing her terrible jealousy. "It didn't work about between Robin and I either, and yet I still think about him, I still wish he were mine. But Starfire is my best friend."

I breathe.

"It's hard to be mad at your two best friends."

I sigh. "I know the feeling." A pause, and I laugh, in spite of my self, getting a chuckle from the empath.

"How did we ever get into this mess?" I laugh. The whole situation is quite bittersweet, but I can't be angry anymore.

"I don't know. Teenage love, spur of the moment...I don't know," Raven replies, letting the rare smile leave. "It actually seems like all of us have dated or kissed each other by now."

I almost laugh, but I know it's not a joke to laugh at, and I don't.

"Are you alright now?" she asks without looking at me.

"Yeah. It's just...soon we're going to be going our separate ways...splitting up and leaving...I guess...I want to hold on to everything. Those spur of the moment...moments, I guess," I finish lamely.

My companion sighs and ruffles my hair, something I have loathed since I was 12. And she did it then, too. "We all do. However, we can't always have what we want."

"So I've learned," I mutter. Raven stands up and looks one last time at the frothing, churning water, then says, "Goodnight Beastboy."

"Goodnight," I reply, and listen to her call upon her mind to simply walk through the wall of the tower, no doors needed.

I sigh and kick a pebble into the water, watching the rings reverberate from the center. I feel older. And I wish everything would stay the way it was.

Love wasn't the only thing that upset me these past months. Near death experiences helped too. Just every little thing is adding up, and I know there will come a day when I can't prevent any one of us from slipping apart.

Like Raven said, you can't always have what you want.

What we can't have.

And that was my first attempt to write a beastboy centric ish story. IF you skipped to the end to find out who is telling the story, I'll slap you with wet noodles. They sting very badly and they leave welts. Please review, and I love you, and Merry Christmas. Or Haunaka. Or Kwanzaa. Ah whatever. XD