"You should write me a Robin/Star story. I don't care what it's about or a theme. Just make it worth it."- FlyOn97. This is what you get when I get no guidance!

9 months. Forgive me, readers, for I have been an ass to you.
I know it gets old to read from me, but I am sorry to have disappeared for so long. Within these nine months, I started graduate school, teaching 2 college courses, and got a promotion at my other job. I also tore my ACL, had my first major surgery, and went through physical therapy. (I'm a freaking medical marvel according to my therapist.) But I am not dead and that's what counts!

Normally, I don't write Rob/Star. He obviously cares for her. But Robin just refuses to let it happen! Sort of a look at that. I might revisit these two at a later date.

I don't own the Teen Titans. I also do not own "4 Letter Word" by David Cook. Rights go to correct respective people.

She loves fairy tales.

It doesn't matter that the stories are meant for children. She drinks it in, devouring pages of flowery phrases and glossy illustrations. Glittering ball gowns made of magic and hemmed in sweet dreams, the quiet application of justice, and everlasting love. All the things he can't bring himself to believe in anymore and knows don't exist. But he can't bring himself to correct her. Not when her face lights up while pouring through the newest story. Not when he was the one that opened the door to fairyland in the first place.

Back when their little family had been a glorified group of strangers, he had bought her a story book. The basic tales, complete with magic pumpkins, poison apples, and true love's first kiss. He thought the simple stories would help her with understanding English grammar. And if it made her smile in the process, well that was just a bonus.

If only he could have known how brightly she would smile at that simple little book.

She was glowing from happiness. Her eyes were shining as she flipped through the cotton candy colored pictures. She held the cheap hardback in cautious hands, as if the simple book had come from a treasury instead of the dollar store on the corner. And then she had turned that dazzling smile to him, all thanks and gratitude.

Overwhelming sincerity had never been attractive to him. In fact, he hadn't believed it could exist. But here it was, pure undiluted sweetness. His highly trained, organized, and logical mind should have put up a better fight. It is kind of shameful how quickly she destroyed his defenses. Even more embarrassing, he had been fine with it all.

He was fine buying her more books and eventually bookshelves to hold all her fantasies. In a strange way, it was okay to watch every princess movie in existence with her. Even the time she had insisted he waltz her around the common room had been alright. The sound of her laughter, the sunlight catching in her hair, the feel of her snuggled into his side as the prince swept his lady across the ballroom. It had all been okay.

Then all of a sudden, it wasn't.

It was like being roused from the best dream of his life. Knowing that he would never have a better dream than her. And yet, still waking up. He couldn't let himself fall any further under her unintentional spell. It was the best choice for (him) both of them.

Because comfort is a lie. The most cruel and manipulative lie in existence. Comfort is complacency. Dragons don't plunder castles with cautious guards. You don't ever get to stop fighting. Comfort is a self-justified delusion for giving up. Honestly, there is no such thing a true happy ending. Eventually things fall apart and break. Nothing lasts forever.

Even though he knew the truth about comfort and happy endings, it didn't make leaving any easier. It had still hurt to wake up from the dream world she had created. A little fairy tale she had built for them to share.

The alien princess, stranded far from home. The courageous hero, on a quest for validation. The two collide and the sparks of destiny fly. Just like any good story, they have their challenges. Masked villains lurking the shadows, threatening to tear them apart. But in the end, it's all going to be okay. They'll overcome all the odds, save the kingdom, and come home victorious. The princess and her hero will have a happy ending.

She loves the story so much. She believes in it with everything she has.

He doesn't have the strength to pick up the pen and write the truth, not even in the margins.

Once upon a time, there was a bird who decided he would fly higher than any one believed he could. He would show them all and fly beyond the moon. The little bird knew better than to try fly during the day as the sun would scorch his feathers. So he chose to take to the skies at night. But he came across an unexpected distraction. Lighting up the clear cold night were the stars. And most gorgeous and brilliant of all was the North Star. She shone so brightly against the velvet sky, the foolish little bird lost sight of his goal.

And that's it. The real story. The truth. Not some fantasy or magic epic. That's the stupid dream he let himself fall into. An egotistical mission derailed by illogical attachment. A bird falling in love with a star isn't a romance. It's impossible. The only magic that story holds is in managing to hold itself together.

It's a dumb story. How is that supposed to end happily for anybody?

The bird gives up his dream of flying past the moon for the star? Instead of killing himself in attempt to show his worth, he'll just die trying to reach her instead. And if for some strange reason they could meet, it would never last. Nothing in this world allows him to be with her. And even if they accomplished the impossible, there is nothing strong enough to keep them together.

Either way, the bird dies. And the poor beautiful star is left all alone. The only difference in the endings is the guilt. The star can be the cause for the death of her ill-fated love. Or she can watch the idiot struggle to accomplish the impossible and only mourn his failure, not his loss.

That's why he had to leave their dream world behind. With all the comfort and joy, he had to wake up. No matter what happens, they can always look back on those few times where everything was okay. Even if the dream turns into a nightmare, she can still have those moments to enjoy as memories. Privately, he can too.

She is beautiful. Not just the fairest in the land, but the fairest in the universe in every way possible. She is passion in physical form. Nothing and no one is too small or unimportant for her time. The strength of her emotions is enough to burn his carefully shielded heart to ashes. Every horrible twisted emotion in existence has never set foot within her being.

He knows his star. How big her heart is and how deeply she feels. So he grits his teeth and rips the pages out of the story she carefully pens. The story will never have a happy ending, no matter what happens. But he hopes that he can keep her from reaching it. It is a futile effort, but maybe if he continues long enough, she will get sick of it all.

And still he is the hero she has cast within her personal fairy tale.

He doesn't believe in the glittering magic that weaves itself through her storybooks. It can't be real. Some impossible force that draws soul mates together despite the odds. True love and granted wishes, he can't force himself to believe it.

He's walked through too many dirty alleyways and filthy streets. Come face to face with the grime of humanity too often. From personal experience, he knows the heroes don't always make it on time. Not everyone can be saved. There are unhappy origins, miserable middles, and quietly recognized conclusions. No matter what her story books say, nobody is ever guaranteed a happy ending.

But even without these reasons, he could not believe fairy tales can occur in the real world. Finding a princess but never being able to become the hero she deserves is hell, never a fairy tale.