Terra stared at the ceiling, watching the dawn light creep across the walls of her room. The clock on her nightstand read 6:47 AM. She hadn't slept. Couldn't.
One week. We agreed on one week. Today's the last day.
Her chest felt tight. Outside her window, Jump City was waking up—traffic sounds, distant sirens, seagulls crying over the bay. Normal sounds. A normal day for everyone else.
The team's been so good to me. Her throat closed. Beast Boy brought me comics yesterday. Starfire made Tamaranean food. Raven… Raven actually let me meditate with her.
The guilt was crushing. Physical. Like she'd buried herself under a mountain of stone.
And I lied to all of them. For weeks. She sat up slowly, running trembling hands through her blonde hair. I have to tell them. Today.
Her reflection in the mirror looked haunted. Pale. Terrified.
Terra forced herself to stand, dreading what was coming.
The kitchen smelled like pancakes and coffee. Normal morning chaos—Cyborg manning the griddle, Beast Boy arguing with Kid Flash about something stupid, Starfire examining the orange juice carton with scientific curiosity.
"Morning, Terra!" Beast Boy waved enthusiastically when she entered. "Sleep okay?"
Terra manufactured a smile. "Yeah. Fine."
I can't even look at him. He's so… genuine.
"Terra, you want chocolate chips or blueberries?" Cyborg held up two bowls.
"Either's fine."
"Either? Come on, you gotta have a preference—"
"Chocolate chips." The words came out too sharp. Cyborg blinked but let it go.
They treat me like family. And I betrayed them.
She picked at her pancakes while the conversation flowed around her. Raven was reading beside her tea. Donna was discussing training schedules with Dick. Hikaru caught her eye from across the table, his expression neutral but his gaze pointed.
Today.
Terra swallowed hard and looked away.
"Better. Your stance is improving."
Donna circled her in the training room, correcting Terra's footwork with gentle pressure from her practice sword. Outside the windows, afternoon sun glinted off the bay.
"Thanks to you," Terra said, resetting into position.
"You're a fast learner. Natural warrior." Donna smiled—genuine warmth that made Terra's stomach twist. "A few more months and you'll be able to hold your own against anyone."
Terra blocked Donna's next strike, the crack of wood on wood echoing through the room. Her hands were sweating inside her gloves.
"You okay?" Donna lowered her sword. "You seem distracted."
"I'm fine. Just… thinking."
"Want to talk about it?"
No. Yes. I don't know. "Maybe later."
Donna studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Whenever you're ready."
I'll never be ready.
Lunch was worse.
Starfire had made some Tamaranian dish that looked like purple scrambled eggs but tasted oddly sweet, and she was showing Terra photos on her phone—Earth landmarks she wanted to visit, animals she found adorable.
"This is called 'ice cream.' It is most delightful!" Starfire beamed, swiping to a photo of her and Hikaru holding with a strawberry cone, pink smeared across her face.
Terra laughed despite the guilt gnawing her insides. "You got it everywhere."
"Hikaru said this is 'part of the experience.'" Starfire's eyes sparkled. "Friend Terra, we should go together! You have not yet experienced the joy of brain freeze."
"I'd like that."
Across the common room, Hikaru was watching her again. When their eyes met, he gave her a reassuring nod.
No backing out.
Terra's appetite vanished.
By evening, she'd worn a path in her bedroom carpet from pacing.
Just tell them. Go out there. Say the words.
She stopped in front of her mirror, practicing. "I have something to say. I was a spy. Slade sent me."
Her voice cracked. She shook her head, tried again.
"I need to confess something. I betrayed you."
Tears spilled down her cheeks before she finished the sentence.
I can't do this. I can't—
A knock interrupted her spiral.
"Come in," she managed.
Hikaru entered, closing the door quietly behind him. His gold eyes were gentle but firm.
"It's time."
Panic flooded through her. "I can't. They'll hate me."
"Maybe." He crossed his arms. "But you'll hate yourself more if you don't."
"What if they kick me out?" The words came out small, broken. "What if—"
"Then we deal with it. But Terra—" He stepped closer. "They deserve the truth."
She was crying again, hating herself for the weakness. "You'll… you'll be there?"
"The whole time."
Terra wiped her eyes, hands shaking. It's now or never. She took a deep breath that didn't quite fill her lungs.
"Okay. Let's do this before I lose my nerve."
The common room felt too bright. Too normal. Cyborg was tinkering with something mechanical, Beast Boy and Wally were playing video games, Donna and Starfire were reading on the couch. Dick was reviewing mission reports at the table.
Raven materialized from a shadow portal, tea in hand, sensing something was happening.
"Everyone," Hikaru said quietly. "Terra has something to tell you."
The team gathered, curiosity replacing casual relaxation. Beast Boy paused the game. Dick set down his tablet. Starfire floated closer, concerned.
"What's up?" Dick asked.
Terra stood in the center of the room, trembling. Hikaru positioned himself beside her—not touching, but present.
"I… I need to tell you something." Her voice shook. "And you're going to hate me."
"Dude, we could never—"
"Please." Terra held up a hand. "Let me finish or I won't be able to say it."
The room went quiet. Deathly so.
Terra forced air into her lungs. Say it. Just say it.
"When you found me at the mesa… it wasn't an accident. I was sent there. By Slade."