Disclamer- I don't own the TT


Story By StormDancer

It is not light that we need, but fire; not the gentle shower but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake.

A small but muscular young boy creeps along the shore, skirting from rock to rock to stay unseen, although the beach is deserted and always has been. The harsh wind buffets him as he leans into it to move against it. He holds the bouquet of flowers behind his back, but changes them often, adjusting them as if they must be perfect but never can be. Finally, he reaches a spot on the cliff that looks like all the others and begins to climb, one handedly scrambling up the cliff face. An opening looms above him, and the boy pulls himself inside, sheltering the flowers, now revealed as daisies, carefully.

He strides through the treacherous floor of the cave confidently, the direct opposite of his hesitant, unsure movement on the shore. He stops before nearing the back of the cave and tugs on his spandex outfit, unconsciously shifting it to flatter him in his nervousness. He walks again, daisies held in front of him as a peace offering.

A statue comes into view, solid concrete with a simple plaque resting at its feet and flowers wilting in front of the plaque. The boy drops the daisies beside the old flowers, and begins to speak.

"Hi, Terra," he says, loosening the high purple collar of his uniform, "It's been a while. No," he corrects himself, "It hasn't. It's only been two weeks since I last visited you. That's just a lot longer then last time. I used to visit you every day, you know. That was when I was just getting used to the fact that you had, well, you had died. And you have, even if Raven and Cyborg still spend late nights trying to find a way to resurrect you. But I just have this feeling that you aren't in this shell anymore, and I think I would know. But I still came, every day. It didn't help, though. It hurt like hell. I think it was stopping me from recovering, not helping like I figured it would. That's what Raven says, anyway, and she knows about stuff like that."

He walks around the statue, examining it from all angles, searching for signs of mistreatment. There are none. The figure of the girl is as pristine as it ever was, every detail etched in tragically perfect detail. Still, he brushes some dust off her shoulders with a tender hand.

"She got me to stop coming. Raven did, I mean. Just when I was about to come here she would start talking to me. She would just talk and talk and talk until it was too late for me to come. At first I stayed because it was Raven. It's never a good idea not to listen when Raven was talking. But then I started staying just so I could hear her talk. She would tell me stuff. Not important stuff, but stuff about science, and philosophy, and even TV. I think she just said whatever came to mind. I'm not sure, I didn't always really listen. I would just let her cool voice wash over me and numb my ripped heart."

He gives a self deprecating laugh.

"Wow, she really is rubbing off on me. That sounded almost poetic. You're laughing, aren't you?" he accuses the silent statue, "Me, Beast Boy, poetic. Sounds impossible, doesn't it? But I think its just Raven. She has that effect on people. Or maybe just on me."

He sighs, recalling himself back to his topic.

"Anyway, sometimes she would bring in other people. Robin would give me lectures about junk and she would ridicule him behind his back. She would bring me in to one of her and Cy's debates, or ask my opinion on something Starfire had said. I didn't realize what she was doing for a long time. Stupid or me, right? But I thought it was just one of her things. She does weird stuff like that, sometimes."

He shifts on his feet, getting more anxious. He rubs the back of his neck. It comes away wet with sweat.

"But then I found myself being able to think of you without feeling that horrible, empty feeling in my stomach. I could even go into your room without breaking down. Coming here didn't hurt as much. I was, well, Raven said I had gotten to the acceptance phase of grief, whatever that means. But I still talked to Raven a lot. I think she understood better then anyone what I was going through. She's not like you, always good for a laugh or a prank, but she's the only person I would think of going to with a problem, or if I was feeling bad. She can always cheer me up. It's sad. She can cheer other people up, but not herself. That's why I took it on as my job.

"But anyway, we still talked. And I think she let slip more then she meant, because I learned a lot about her. Like her favorite time of day is twilight, and she loves chocolate with raspberries. Just little stuff, but it made her seem more human. So I told her stuff too. Things I never even told you. About my parents, and the Doom Patrol, and what happened in between. It felt right. It was more then just getting over you. It felt like, I dunno, like we were two pieces of a puzzle, and when it came together, the picture became seeable."

He sighs again and looks down at his green hands, not meeting what would have been her eyes. The cave resonates with the silence for a moment, but he glances up suddenly, coming to a resolution.

"Terra, you were like a whirlwind. You came in a blaze of earth and fun and broke me apart, then disappeared as quickly as you came and left me with all the scattered, messed up pieces. But Raven? She's like a gentle breeze. She came softly, tenderly even, and got into every crack of me and filled it up, made it better. You took me apart, she put me back together."

He takes a step closer, trying to memorize every inch of the statue, of this picture.

"So, yeah, I guess this is good bye. I'm not coming anymore, or maybe just on anniversaries. I've buried you. I'm going to stop talking to a statue and start talking to a live girl, one who I'm pretty sure likes me for who I am just as much as you did, who can understand the parts of me that even I flinch at and not falter. Because you could never do that. I could never tell you those sorts of things, about the Beast, and how he's still in me. But Raven just takes it. I'm sorry to always be comparing you to her. It's not fair, to either of you. But I can't help it. I'm just always thinking about her. So you see why I can't be here? You're not her, so talking to you doesn't do anything. And if I've learned one thing about girls, you don't talk to them about their replacement."

He chuckles suddenly. The sound bounces off the walls and is magnified a thousand times, elfish laughter gaily sharing his mirth. He almost thought he could hear Terra's laugh among them.

"Not that she's a replacement," he hastily assures the statue when he realizes the connotations of his statement, 'If anything, no offense, I think you were hers. I've known her longer. But then again, I didn't really know her until after you died. So I don't know if anyone's replacing anyone. I don't think they are. You two are too different. So, I hope you find someone, wherever you are, who likes a whirlwind."

He stands in front of her in silence for a minute. Then a gentle hand is placed on his shoulder, and a quiet voice murmurs.

"Are you okay?" the dark girl inquires sympathetically. He stares at her a moment, then shakes his head to clear it.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he tells her, and this time he knows it's true, "I was just saying good bye."

The hand squeezes in tacit understanding.

"Is she okay with it?" the girl asks, eyeing the statue with guarded grief.

"I think she is," he tells her, then pulls her towards the door of the cave, "Let's go."

They step outside, hand in hand. The wind has changed from the cold forceful gale to a quiet, gentle breeze that wraps lovingly around him as he strides away from the cave and the cold statue within.