Dean parks his work truck outside the address of his first appointment for the morning at seven fifty-one, and it would be a nice bungalow house if it weren’t for the color. Stepping out to stare from the curb, Dean marvels at the truly outrageous pink that the house is painted, its shutters a deep magenta. The thing is like a big ‘fuck you’ to the neighbors.
It’s well maintained. It would be a model house of neighborly good will, with it’s close cut grass and weed-free flower gardens, hell the porch has wicker furniture and there’s a long row of wind chimes sounding merrily in the light morning breeze.
It’s a cute house, but god, that pink is horrible.
Okay, maybe Dean’s a little judgmental in the morning when he’s cranky and the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet. He’s early by a few minutes, but it is his first stop. He had given a courtesy call when he was five minutes away, and didn’t receive an answer. If someone doesn’t answer the door, then he’ll probably mill around outside until the appointment time.
Walking up the neat stone-paver path to the front porch, stairs stooped with age but sturdy, Dean rings the doorbell. After a minute, he knocks just in case the doorbell doesn’t work. The porch is inviting, pastel floral print cushions on the wicker furniture and someone is in the middle of a jig-saw puzzle on the wicker table. Dean would think someone’s grandma lives here, but when he’d taken the phone request for an estimate regarding a small roof leak, it was definitely a guy, didn’t sound too old, but shit, Dean wanted him to be a sex-phone operator.
Was that still a thing? With internet porn and cam girls, did sex phone lines still exist?
Dean’s wandering thoughts are cut off by the loud and hurried sound of someone tromping down the stairs. The door is swung open and Dean’s about to apologize for being a few minutes early, but, wow, that is a lot to take in.
He’s not wearing a shirt, and Dean’s gaze moves in jerky flicks from blue eyes, tousled dark hair, to pierced nipples, some kind of blocky foreign word tattoo on the side, hip bones like goddam, and tenting a pair of stupid novelty boxers with puffy clouds and cherubs on them is a very prominent erection. Bare feet, hairy legs, nicely muscled calves, back to the boner. Dean just stands and stares.
The guy, what was his name, something weird, Cas something, tugs at the front of his boxers, looking supremely uncomfortable, when an orange blur shoots past his ankles and before Dean knows what’s going on he’s bent over and grabbed a ball of fluff.
Tabby cat squirming in his arms, the guy tosses the cat back in the house and steps onto the porch, closing the door behind him.
“Sorry, I just woke up, this is, uh…”
Dean definitely does not look below the guys chin, and that pouty mouth that’s just…. “No yeah, hey, sorry about being early, I’m Dean.”
“Castiel.”
He’s given a firm hand-shake before Cas gingerly steps around him, and when Dean turns he finds that across the - truly magnificent - ass is written ‘Angel’.
Cas steps down from the porch and starts leading Dean to the side of the house.
“So, the leak is just above the stairs to the top floor, here,” he points vaguely at the roof.
“I’m gonna need to see inside, too.” Dean says.
The roof is a safe place to look - that doesn’t involve estimations of seven, maybe eight inches - even though he can’t see shit other than that the shingles are a light gray.
“What?” Cas squints at him.
“I need to see inside, where the damage is.”
“But, you’re supposed to fix the roof.”
God, he still has a hard on.
“Yep,” Dean nods, “But if I know where the damage is on the inside it’ll help me to figure out where the problem is on the outside.
“Oh,” Cas turns around and leads him back up on the porch, muttering, “I suppose that makes sense.”
The tabby cat tries to run outside as they go in, and Cas effectively nudges it aside and blocks it’s path. The inside is cluttered in an organized sort of way. Cas takes him upstairs, and the whole second floor is open, sloping towards a row of windows in the front and the back that are covered with gauzy orange and gold curtains. It’s a pretty small and low space, scattered with rugs and pillows and it looks like some kind of hippy’s den with far east decorations, so Dean’s not sure why Cas didn’t want him to come inside but then, oh hey, that’s a sex swing in the corner and Dean missed the giant pump bottle of lube next to a gold statue of Buddha and is that really a bronze bowl full of condoms…
“So, it’s just up there.”
Cas points up and Dean snaps his gaze away from the sex swing to look at the ceiling.
“Yep. You’ve got a roof leak.”
Cas snorts and rolls his eyes.
It’s not too bad; the pale yellow paint of the ceiling is bubbling where water is retaining, but where it’s broken through there’s some crumbling plaster that’s fallen down. It’s about three square foot total, not too serious a leak. Depends on how long it was let go to get to this point.
Dean pulls a measuring tape out and takes estimates along the walls, eyeing where the damage is and making a mental note of it. Cas shifts from one foot to another, standing a few steps up from Dean, and that is definitely not the best spot for him to be standing but at least he’s not sporting morning wood now.
He does have a cute treasure trail though, stomach taught and tan between the ridges of his hips.
There’s another cat, black, sitting at the bottom of the steps when they go back down.
“Might be some old storm damage, I’ll take a look out there,” Dean says.
“I had the roof done about eight years ago, but the contractor was a jackass and I do not trust his quality of work.”
“That sucks,” Dean commiserates. “Give me ten, fifteen minutes, I’ll let you know what I see.”
Cas nods, and lets him out, grabbing the orange tabby and tucking it under his arm as he shuts the door.
Dean gets his ladder from the truck and climbs up to the gently sloping roof of the bungalow. He guesstimates where the damage should be, checking around, and finds a few nails sticking up that could be the cause for a slow leak. Snapping a few photos on his cell phone, he climbs back down.
When he knocks, Cas answers in jeans and a t-shirt, hair somewhat flattened, and steps onto the porch.
“So, I found some nails sticking up, that’ll be a slow leak, and I can nail them down and caulk around them and that should fix your problem,” Dean shows Cas the photos on his phone, “It could be something else, I didn’t notice anything, but if the caulking doesn’t work you give me a call and I’ll come back out again okay.”
Cas frowns at the phone, finger swiping between photos, and Dean yanks it back before Cas swipes too far.
He really should get separate phones for work and private.
“How much would it be?”
Dean shrugs, it’s not a high or a steep roof, mostly it’s the cost for coming out, “Seventy five, but if it’s still leaking we’ll discount that towards any further work that needs to be done.”
“That sounds very reasonable. When can you complete the work?”
“I can do it now, it’ll take maybe fifteen minutes.”
Dean’s next appointment is another estimate he needs to be at between nine and ten, so he has plenty of time.
“Okay,” Cas nods, tucking one hand in his back pocket and cocking his hips and his feet are bare, toes curling over the edge of a paver stone and onto soft green grass, and christ, he’s got clothes on now and Dean’s having dirty thoughts about his bare feet. “Do you take personal checks?”
Snapping his gaze back up to Cas’ eyes, and geeze it’s even worse that looking at his feet, Dean says, “Yeah, of course. I’m gonna climb up there, I’ll knock when I’m done.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Dean gives Cas a short half-wave and heads back to his ladder that’s still propped against the side of the house. He doesn’t miss how Cas trails after him to the corner of the house and watches him get up on the roof. A lot of people want to watch while you work because even though they don’t know shit about what you’re doing they want to make sure you’re doing it right, and other people are concerned when he’s on a minor job on his own like he shouldn’t be getting up on a ladder without a spotter. There’s a tiny egotistical voice in Dean’s head that reminds him the jeans he wore this morning make his ass look fantastic.
It’s not much work to tap down a few nails and caulk them, and Dean’d feel kind of bad about charging seventy-five for it, but it’s the minimum for a service call. He kind of wants Cas to still be waiting for him when he climbs back down, but the guy isn’t, so Dean secures his ladder to his truck again and puts the caulk away.
When he knocks on the front door, Cas waves him inside and Dean makes sure the screen is shut, the orange tabby watching them with a sharp gaze from it’s perch on a table a few feet from the door.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Cas asks, “Water? Coffee?”
Dean can smell coffee brewing somewhere in the house, and really, he shouldn’t be accepting anything but a check from their customers, but a quick glance at his watch tells him it’s barely past eight thirty, so he’d probably end up grabbing a coffee somewhere else anyway, and if Cas already has it on.
“Sure, coffee would be great, thanks.”
“Sugar? Cream?”
Dean follows Cas to the back of the house where the kitchen sits narrow and bathed in sunlight, pots of herbs set in the windowsills that have delicate lacey curtains over the top half.
“Uh, just black, thanks.”
Cas gets a mug down and Dean is probably a little too curious as he glances around at the lime green toaster, the yellow coffee maker, the pink microwave and, wait, seriously, “Is that a Hello Kitty microwave?”
“Yes,” Cas passes him a mug that has colorfully painted birds on it, “I found it at an estate sale. It’s small, but I like it.”
Dean studies the microwave while he takes a sip of coffee, hot and bitter and a little spicy, “Damn, that’s good coffee.”
“Thank you.” After he pours a mug for himself, this one a shimmery gray pattern, Cas riffles through a small basket on the counter that’s set under some kind of wood divided organizer affixed to the wall that looks like it holds mail and bills. Pulling out a check book and pen, Cas leans his elbows on the counter and stoops over while he writes his check, jeans pulling tight over his ass and Dean is having inappropriate thoughts.
“Do I make it out to Winchester and Sons?” Cas asks, glancing over his shoulder, noticing that Dean is noticing him and there’s a smug fucking smile on his face.
Dean coughs, shifting from one foot to the other then leaning against the counter. “Yeah, that’s good.”
“Is it a family business?”
“Yeah, my grandfather started it, my dad took over, and my poor kid brother, he didn’t want to be a contractor so he went to college and got a fancy degree but he couldn’t find a job so he started working with us to pay off his loans.”
“At least he had somewhere to go for a job.”
“Our dad gives him shit for it, but it’s good work.”
Cas passes the check over, stepping closer than is necessary as Dean sets his mug down and folds it to put in his pocket.
“I want to give you my number, Dean.”
“I have your contact information.” Dean says, like a dumbass.
“I don’t mean as a client.” Cas leans in closer, and he smells fucking amazing. “I mean for a personal, intimate capacity.”
Dean swallows thickly and nods. “No, yeah, that totally works too.”
Dean’s not sure if Cas is completely unaware of boundaries, or if he’s crossing them on purpose, or if it’s because Dean’s brain is not getting any messages right now - his dick’s the stupid one getting messages - but Cas slips his hand into Dean’s pocket and pulls out his phone, enters a number into the contacts, then puts his phone back, hand lingering warm against Dean’s thigh and god, forget the coffee, Dean needs to find somewhere private to jack off before his next estimate.
“Thank you for fixing my roof Dean. I’ll give you a call later.”
-
Cas doesn’t actually call Dean, he’s more of a texter, with a lot of emojis. Dean doesn’t understand what all of it means, but he gets a date out of it. And he was trying to do things, y’know, how they should be done. Getting to know each other, talking, eating out, being friends first. But Cas, either he isn’t interested in being Dean’s friend, or he thought that sex came before friendship.
Either way, Dean can deal.
An effort has been made. Dean figures the traditional movie and dinner was the way to go, Cas wants to see some ‘avant-garde’ theatre performance - whatever that was - and somehow they wind up starting with greasy burgers at a dive joint and then they’re…. making out in the Impala.
Dean totally kisses on the first date.
Dean totally does more than that on the first date.
So he’s got a hand down Cas’ jeans, his mouth scraping against the stubble on Cas’ neck, both of them twisted together in the front seat and pushed against the passanger door, in a shady corner of the parking lot and you know what, Dean doesn’t really care if he’s a slut.
Because honestly? Cas is more of a slut than Dean is.
He’s loud and unashamed as he moans and pushes his hips up, one arm thrown over the back of the seat, the other hand clutching a tight fist of Dean’s shirt between his shoulder blades. Cas shifts and squirms like he’s not sure how best to settle in for a steamy make-out-session handjob in the front seat of a car. Dean’s done this plenty of times. The backseat is better for a quicky, you just have to make sure not to knock your head on the ceiling too much.
“Dean,” Cas groans, drawing it out filthy and his name sounds so good coming out of that mouth, “Dean, I really want to suck you off.”
“Shit.”
Squeezing tight around the base of Cas’ dick, fingers spreading down to tease his balls, Dean shoves his face against Cas’ neck and humps the shin of Cas’ leg folded awkwardly between the seat and Dean.
“You want to go back to your place?” Dean asks, leaning back so he can look at Cas’ face, flushed pretty in the sharp shadows of the parking lot lights, “I really wanna try out that swing.”
“Mm, later, I’ll fuck you in the swing later…”
Rolling his head to the side, Cas glances out the window, the brick building rising up on the side of the Impala, and it might just be luck that Dean picked a corner spot, or maybe he’s fooled around in his car so much it’s instinct at this point to pick an advantageous spot.
Fumbling behind him, Cas opens the door and half falls out, Dean wrapping an arm around his broad chest to hold him steady as he scurries backward. Jeans still open and hard on hanging out, Cas manages to get out of the car as he drags Dean towards him, the two of them glancing around the parking lot. There’s a drunk couple stumbling out the back door and they fall into a taxi together, and someone is smoking leaned against the side of the wall but they’re focus is on their phone in their hands.
Swinging his legs out in front of him, Dean leans back on his elbows and sets his boots on the gravel, knees spread wide and Cas crouches and looks up at him, hands eager and rough on his jeans as Cas getts them opened and pulled down his hips.
Dean brushes a hand through Cas’ soft hair, cups the back of his head as he goes down, plush lips wrapping around the head of Dean’s dick and he tongues lazily at it a while, makes Dean’s eyes roll back and his hips stutter. Cas leans an arm against one of Dean’s thighs, moves the other restlessly under his shirt spreading up his ribs, nimble fingers tweaking his nipples.
It turns fast and sloppy, and that’s kind of the idea of a parking-lot blowjob, but it hits Dean hard. Cas sucks him down and more than anyone seeing into their dark corner Dean thinks someone might hear the wet greedy noises that Cas makes, taking a little more every time he goes down, until Dean can feel the give of his throat, the clutch of him starting to gag a little before he swallows and determinedly presses his nose to Dean’s skin. Fuck.
Dean falls back against the seat, thighs closing tight against Cas’ strong shoulders, muscles tensing as Cas barely moves on him, doing wicked things with his tongue, fingers still playing with Dean’s nipples.
Clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle a needy whimper, Dean comes hard in the tight heat of Cas’ mouth, hips twitching.
Cas pulls off his dick wetly, grinning, turns his head to the side and spits on the gravel then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. As he stands up, glancing around the parking lot, he tucks his still hard dick back in his jeans and that’s a tragedy.
Dean sits up, stomach weak and trembling still, presses his face against a sharp hip and palms at Cas’ dick.
“As much a that’s appreciated, I have plans for you.”
“Mmm?” Dean nuzzles his way up under a t-shirt and mouths at warm skin.
“Remember, you want to try out that swing?”
One of Cas’ eyebrows goes up as he pins Dean with his stare, and Dean won’t be able to get it up again tonight but he’s definitely down to let Cas do whatever he wants.
“Mhmm.”
Blunt nails scrape through his short hair and Cas tugs his head back.
Notes: written for @spnpolybingo square ‘summer camp au’, underage (unspecified, all parties around 16-ish), drinking, incest, self piercings
-
“Where did you even get that?”
Dean squints in the dim light of the boathouse, the sun setting on the other side of the lake slanting in through the open face of the rickety structure and there’s a little piece of gem studded metal dangling from Cas’ fingers.
“You know the counselor, Lisa, wears skimpy bikinis?” Cas grinned. “I noticed she’s always got a different piece in her belly.
“He stole it, is what he’s trying to say,” Jimmy rolls his eyes, arms folded over his chest as he warily glances out the exposed front of the boathouse then to the door at the side which doesn’t have a lock.
“Of course I did,” Cas chides his twin.
Dean’s only known these two since the start of summer camp a month ago, but Cas has got stickier fingers than he does. Sure, Dean steals from the supermarket when the cupboards are getting bare, or sometimes from the salvation army, but Cas steals because he wants to.
“So,” Dean glances down the faded green t-shirt Cas is wearing with the holes ringing the stretched out collar, to the flat of his belly, “Do I get to poke you this time?”
“No,” Cas tells him gleefully, “You get to help me poke my brother.”
Jimmy sighs and turns his eyes up to the ceiling, clutching his arms tighter against his chest. “I told you no, Cas.”
“Yeah, but when do I ever listen.”
“Your nipple piercings got infected.”
“But they’re fine now, and I’ve got this.”
Tucking the piece of jewelry into his cut-off jean shorts pocket, Cas drops his backpack onto the wet-swollen wood of the boathouse and pulls out a quarter full bottle of vodka.
“Oh, hey, nice,” Dean reaches out, and yeah okay maybe sometimes he steals stuff like this too, usually from his dad, but Cas swats his hand away.
“It’s for Jimmy’s belly button first, it’s a disinfectant so our princess here doesn’t have to worry about an infection, then we get the rest.”
“I’m not a princess,” Jimmy frowns.
“You’re a little prissy, Jimmy,” Dean says, “But it makes it easy to tell the two of you apart.”
Cas laughs and grabs at his twin, tugging at the hem of Jimmy’s shirt.
“Jesus, Cas, you’re so much worse when you have someone that actually agrees with you.”
Cas slaps a palm to his chest, “Did you just take the lord’s name in vain!”
“Shut up!” Jimmy shoves Cas away, but then he uses the space to pull his own shirt up over his head.
Both twins are skinny and pale, despite spending the same amount of time out in the sun that has gotten Dean freckled and a bronzed. He knows they’re from a strict and very large Catholic family, but the religious upbringing doesn’t seem to be sticking for how many crude jokes they make. And probably the incest thing. And the stealing. And self-piercings.
Cas smiles approvingly, setting the vodka down and digging an apple and a pocket knife out of his bag. Dean didn’t actually get to see the first time Cas pierced himself at the start of the summer. Both nipples. The safety pins he left in are kind of weird, but Dean loves how he whimpers when they’re tugged on.
Cutting a small thumbnail sized chunk of apple out, Cas passes it to Dean. He takes out a safety pin and lighter, holding the sharp point of the pin over the flame.
Jimmy sighs like he’s resigned to this, but Dean’s pretty sure that he likes the trouble Cas gets him into. Cas is the one to lead, forge headfirst into whatever batshit crazy notion has taken his fancy on any given day, while Jimmy acts the voice of reason and enjoys the adventure while maintaining ‘I told you so’ status.
Grabbing the vodka bottle, Jimmy takes a swig and coughs, then pours some on his belly, uncaring of how it drips onto his jeans and darkens the waist, scrubbing at the skin of his navel.
“If this gets infected I’m not blowing you for like a month.”
Cas clucks his tongue, “Idle threats don’t scare me.”
Slipping the lighter into his pocket, Cas takes the apple piece from Dean and passes him the stolen jewelry. “Splash some vodka on that,” he tells Dean.
Cupping it in his palm, Dean pours a little on it and lets it sit, then takes a sip for himself. Jimmy angles himself better into a sliver on sunset orange light and Cas kneels in front of him. Holding the apple against the skin under the navel, Cas pinches in the middle, squints, moves his position slightly to the left.
“Just do it already.” Jimmy grouses.
“I know you’d rather I do it right,” Cas mumbles, then shoves the safety pin through Jimmy’s skin.
Jimmy squeaks, then scrunches his face up. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“That’s only half of it,” Cas tells him.
Leaving the pin hanging, Cas holds a hand out to Dean, and Dean drops the jewelry onto his palm. Cas tells Jimmy, “Hold still,” before yanking the safety pin out and shoving the jewelry through.
Dean winces as he watches, fascinated.
Cas hums, pleased, and pours more vodka where Jimmy is bleeding a little, then laps it up off his skin. Dean’s gotta admit, the belly button piercing is pretty cute. He’s always liked that kind of shit on girls, although there’s only a few white-trash enough to have them at his school, but it works on guys too.
Jimmy’s whimpering while Cas tongues around the pink and agitated skin, pours more vodka on it. Cas looks up from his knees at Dean and smiles.
“Hey Dean, you want to see something pretty?”
Dean’s already stiff in his jeans. For one, he thought they were coming out to the boathouse for a little privacy, a little hands on fun. Then Jimmy took his shirt off and now Cas is tongue fucking his freshly pierced navel. So yeah, he’s got his expectations, which to be fair, they’ve only encouraged. And Cas is asking him if he wants to see something pretty.
The first time Cas said that, a week after they were all dumped at this free summer camp for ‘at-risk’ youths, that was when Cas had shown Dean the safety pins in his nipples, that were bizarre, but when asked if he wanted to touch them fuck yes Dean did. The second time Cas said that, he kissed his twin in front of Dean and Dean had jerked off in the woods behind the cabin after that. The third time Cas had asked him that, Jimmy had gotten down on his knees in the boathouse and gave Cas a blow job.
So yeah, Dean really wants to see something pretty.
“Fuck yeah,” he groans, reaching for the bottle of vodka Cas passes him, after Jimmy’s taken another sip.
Cas stands, hands working Jimmy’s jeans open, leans close and murmurs something in his twin’s ear while Jimmy closes his eyes and nods, turns around. Cas pulls his jeans and underwear down to Jimmy’s ankles and Jimmy leans forward a little. He’s got a tight ass, narrow hips, knobs of his spine bumping up under the skin of his back. Cas puts a hands on Jimmy’s asscheek, pulls it wide and tips Jimmy forward a little so Dean can see the pink furl of his hole, hairless and soft and sweet looking. Dean licks sour vodka off his lips and nods stupidly.
Cas sucks one of his fingers into his mouth, being loud on purpose, before he circles it around Jimmy’s hole and presses inside.
“Tell my brother he’s pretty, Dean.”
“God, he’s so pretty.”
Jimmy whines and bends forward more, arching his ass up, and he reaches one hand back to pull the other asscheek that Cas doesn’t have a hand on wider, showing off.
“Jesus christ.”
Jesus. Christ.
“Have you ever tried this on someone else, Dean?” Cas asks, slowly moving his finger in and out.
Dean shakes his head no.
“Have you ever tried this on yourself?”
He can feel the heat in his cheeks and it’s useless trying to lie to Cas, so he nods his head yes.
“Try it on me,” Jimmy says high and breathy.
“Yeah, okay.”
Dean’s not a virgin. He lost that in the eighth grade. Sure, he’s mostly been with girls, but it’s easier. He’s fumbled around in the dark, in the backseat of a car, got his hands up a cheerleader’s skirt under the bleachers. Guys have always been more of a passing fantasy, a better not get caught with, that he hasn’t pursued. Not until Cas and Jimmy pursued him. And they are shameless.
He passes the vodka bottle back to Cas, after Cas takes his finger out of his brother, and Dean sucks on his own finger before he touches the hot skin between Jimmy’s legs. Running the pad of his finger over the small wrinkles that twitch under his touch, Dean marvels at it for a moment before he tries pressing inside. It’s tight, and resists, but Cas leans over and spits right where Dean’s finger is trying to go and that’s the filthiest goddam thing he’s experienced in his short life. Every time he hooks up with these two they show him something filthier. He slides inside and it’s so fucking hot and smooth Dean’s dick jerks in his jeans and drips precome.
Cas hums, takes a deep sip of vodka and passes it to Jimmy.
“I’m going to watch you fuck my brother.” Cas says.
It’s not a question.
The bottle of vodka clunks onto the boathouse floor and Jimmy bends further, bracing his hands on his knees and shoving back against Dean.
“Fuck. Yeah, fuck, you two are sluts.”
“So are you, Dean.” Cas tells him, something wicked glinting in those blue eyes. “Try another finger.”
Dean’s not sure one went in that well, but he’s broader and larger than the twins everywhere, one of his fingers almost two of Cas’ slim ones. Cas is grabbing something else out of his bag though, a bottle of baby oil, like what he sees the girls spreading on themselves when they go sunning at the lake beach. Cas drips it down Jimmy’s crack and Dean smears his fingers through it while Jimmy squirms and moans some kind of ‘yes, yeah, please’ and Dean gets two fingers into him easy.
Cas moves around in front of Jimmy, crouches down and takes his twin’s face in his hands, kisses Jimmy filthy and noisy. Without his intense scrutiny straight on Dean, Dean loosens. Spreads a hand over Jimmy’s hip and smoothes up the curve of his back. Twists his fingers in deep while Jimmy shivers, body clutching around him and it’s nothing like fingering a girl.
The lake ripples with a gentle breeze, lapping at the supports under the boathouse, and the sun has dipped under the horizon leaving them in inky twilight gloom. It smells like musty old lakewater has seeped into every crevice of the boathouse, swollen it to creak and shift under them. Dean could be doing this in the primitive cramped outhouses of the camp and he’d be ready to go.
Cas steps next to Dean, settles a hand on his forearm as Dean curls his fingers inside of Jimmy, and pulls him slowly out.
“You’ll take care of Jimmy with me, won’t you?”
Dean nods dumbly and opens his mouth when Cas puts the rim of the vodka bottle to his lips, kisses away the stinging taste. Jimmy straightens and kicks his jeans off, a fresh red bead dripping down from his belly button, and his dick is slapping hard against his stomach under it, as he digs around in the back pack for a towel. Neatly folding it - and really, it’s kind of cute when he’s prissy - Jimmy sets it on the boathouse floor and kneels on it. Cas gets a hand in Dean’s jeans, shoves them down and pulls his dick out, stroking it firmly as he nips at Dean’s mouth. He nudges Dean down, and Dean kneels behind Jimmy’s spread legs as Jimmy drops forward onto his hands.
“Do I, uh,” Dean starts, thinking he should probably ask about a condom, but it’s not like he can get a boy pregnant, and Cas passes him the bottle of baby oil so he slicks himself up.
Cas pours another shot into Jimmy’s upturned mouth and settles in front of him, kissing him messily and grabbing his tousled hair sharply.
Dean’s dick slips between Jimmy’s thighs when he tries to push in, then up, so he grips himself in one hand and insistently presses against the pink tender muscle that barely lets him in as Jimmy gasps and Cas shushes against his mouth.
He’s vice tight and so hot around Dean that Dean thinks he’s gonna finish right now, and he has to stop and rub at Jimmy’s back to distract himself. Cas is nosing along Jimmy’s neck, murmuring in his brother’s ear, one arm draped over his shoulder and fingers trailing against his shivery back.
“Is… is that alright?” Dean asks.
“Tell him what you want,” Cas says in Jimmy’s ear, staring at Dean.
“I…I, uh… f-fuck me…”
Head sagging, shoulder blades jutting up sharply, Jimmy rolls his hips backward and buries Dean almost to the base. Dean snaps his hips forward reflexively, fingers tightening against Jimmy’s waist.
Cas kneels up, pulls off his shirt because he likes how Dean stares at him, shimmies his shorts down and guides his brother’s mouth onto his dick. As far as Dean can tell, Jimmy’s happy to be some kind of living sex doll, pliant to Cas’ suggestions and hands, mouth easy to open, legs quick to spread. They’ve probably had some fucked up kind of childhood, but Dean’s fucked up too and he’s horny and he kind of admires them.
Dean rocks his hips against Jimmy, pulls out and slides in slowly while Jimmy bobs his head on Cas’ dick with a wet sucking noise. Cas tangles a hand in Jimmy’s hair, pulls him forward at the same time that he thrusts. Dean can hear Jimmy gag but it only makes him shove forward harder, trapping Jimmy between them and he squirms in a way that squeezes around Dean’s dick. Swearing, groaning, Dean screws into him fast and dirty because he’s not going to last.
Cas fucks his brother’s mouth while Dean comes deep in him, but Cas pulls out so he can jizz all over Jimmy’s face.
Dean pulls out with a slick squelch that makes his spent dick twitch, sits back on his heels panting, gaze fixed on the pink-red gape of Jimmy’s ass that drips white down the seam between his legs. Splinters dig into Dean’s knees, the noise of the water fading as the wind dies down and the night deepens. There’s no clouds in the sky and the moon is almost full, silver light glinting off the water and shining into the boathouse.
Cas pulls Jimmy up onto his knees and turns him around. Jimmy hums, leans back against Cas’ chest. There’s tear tracks streaked down his cheeks and Cas’ come dripping off his chin. Jimmy’s dick is softening, stomach glistening with white streaks, and the dark water logged wood of the boathouse floor in front of him is spattered with pearl white puddles.
Cas palms Jimmy’s dick and he shudders.
“You’re so pretty,” Dean murmurs, about both of them, and the twins give him matching satisfied, secretive smiles.
Notes: written for @spnpolybingo, square ClairexDeanxSam, age of Claire is undefined and may be interpreted as underage, bondage, edging, incest, au, prostitute Claire, bottom Dean
-
She’s small. Each tit you could cup in the palm of a hand, with an ass you could span with both. Her blue eyes are big and wide, blond hair falling in messy waves over one shoulder while the other side of her head is braided back. She’s timid in the set of her shoulders and how she holds on to the strap of her bag, but she matches Sam’s gaze and she talks a tough game.
“You didn’t say anything kinky, I want two hundred.”
Sam closes the motel door behind her and she almost suppresses her flinch.
With a small hum, Sam circles around her, pulls out his wallet, gives her a few more bills. She doesn’t look like she’s sure she really wants to take them, although it’s clear from her dingy clothes, the ripped jean-shorts she’s probably trying to pass as artfully ho, that she really needs that extra cash.
Hey, Dean can’t blame her if she’s having second thoughts.
He’s tied down star-fish spread, one wrist to the bed with a belt, one wrist with old electric cable, his ankles with rough camping-grade rope, secured to the frame under the mattress. Still, as limited as his mobility is, he moves his head in an approximation of a friendly nod, lips stretched grimace-wide around the wiffle-ball black gag in his mouth but he can mumble a garbled hello to her.
She stays rooted at the edge of the bed, staring, tucking her money away.
Sam steps behind her, one hand lightly pulling her hair back as he leans over her, lips grazing her neck, and there’s some arousal there as she leans back and her tongue darts out against her lip.
“What’s your name?” Sam asks.
“Claire,” she answers immediately, brow twitching with the slightest consteration, and Dean thinks it might just be her real name.
Christ, he wonders if Sam checked out if she was legal to even buy a pack of cigarettes.
Right now, that’s not really important to Dean. What matters is how much his fucking dick hurts, a hot insistent throb, left alone with a cock ring on after Sam gave him a stellar blow job that just almost, almost tipped him over the edge. Dean’s been squirming and sweating into the mattress for what feels like hours. Maybe it has been hours that Sam’s been out, finding Claire. The small vibrating plug inside him keeps a semi-steady trickle of precome dribbling onto his belly, dripping down his sides, every muscle in him tensed and tight and Dean doesn’t fucking care how old she is and how new she is to this.
“Claire,” Sam repeats.
One of his arms snakes around Claire’s narrow waist and up, hand cupping a breast and in the span of Sam’s hand they’re itty-bitty. Looks like the perfect mouthful to Dean.
“That’s my brother,” Sam says, “Dean.”
Claire jerks, mouth twisting down, but Sam’s got a hold on her as his other arm circles, hand sliding down between her legs, his muscles flexing as he squeezes her bodily.
“What?”
Claire’s face is pinched and she’s squirming and Dean feels for her, he really does, but there’s not much he can do about it.
It’s easier, when he can’t do much.
“Mhm,” Sam kisses her ear, pulls her shirt up and her bra down, resumes his position with one hand on a breast and one between her legs. “What, you want another extra hundred for that? It’s yours.”
“Oh what the fuck….”
Dean’s not sure if it’s a question or a statement.
Claire fits her hands to Sam’s forearms, tips her head back so he can get at her neck better, rocks her hips against him.
“So,” moaning as Sam tweaks a stiff nipple, she shudders, “So what, do you, want to both fuck me, like after each other, or,” groaning as Sam deftly undoes her shorts and pushes his hand inside, Claire’s on her tip toes, “or at the same time?”
Dean doesn’t really care what he’s getting in this equation, he just needs to get something. He knows Sam’ll give him what he needs, and probably something he doesn’t expect, but he’s been left so long with this heavy heat in the pit of his gut that if he didn’t have a gag in he’d be begging for the barest touch. All he can do is push his hips up, dick swinging fat and wet and so fucking red.
“Yeah, Dean, I know,” Sam reassures him, watches him over Claire’s shoulder, smiling wide enough to bring out the dimples. “I want you to suck my brother while I fuck you,” Sam tells Claire, “But don’t let him come.”
“How do I…” Claire looks at Dean, at the sorry state of his dick ready to go off at a stiff breeze.
“I’ll let you know if he gets too close.”
“Yeah, you do this a lot, huh?”
There’s that attitude in her voice, maybe she’s not as young as Dean’s guessed or maybe she’s older than she should be.
“We do,” Sam tells her.
He yanks her jean shorts down, flimsy slip of a dark thong going with them, and she’s got the smallest patch of pale blond curls at the top of her mound. Dean’s mouth waters. He needs to do something, anything, with his hands or his mouth or his dick. It drives him mad to be tied down, relegated essentially to furniture. Sam knows this.
Claire trips against the shorts around her ankles as Sam spins her, peels her shirt off, her bra, pushes her face forward onto the bed between Dean’s spread legs. Her long hair falls softly against Dean’s thighs, tickling, as she brings a hand up to brace on his hip, her big blue and not-so-innocent eyes lined with thick black looking at him. There’s amusement there, probably at his cost, some kind of smug satisfaction that at least she’s not in his position.
A loud crack echoes and Claire’s eyes go shock-wide as she gasps. Sam just spanked her. It won’t be the only time. Claire whips her head around to him, and Sam is opening a condom as he says, “So, get started.”
“Condom?” Claire demands, reaching a hand back to the just opened one, brooks no argument as she rolls it over Dean’s dick, and Sam gets another for himself.
Her skin is pale and there’s scars in neat lines on the insides of her forearms as she strokes a hand up Dean’s hip, touches his side with long fingernails painted chipped blue, and simple black stars are tattooed on her upper arm across her shoulder. She looks at him questioningly, and Dean puts every ounce of pleading that he can in his eyes and the whiny noises that make it past the ball gag.
Claire dips down, purses her lips around the head of his dick, flicks her tongue over it as she sucks and does this little twist and Dean damn near about shoots at that.
It wouldn’t just be Claire in trouble if he comes.
Sam tugs his shirt off, gets his jeans open, no underwear, rolls the condom on and that’s the most that he undresses when he kneels on the end of the bed and spreads his hands over Claire’s backside, lets her know he’s there.
Mouth on Dean, Claire tips her hips up, the smooth pretty curve of her back flowing towards Sam’s neat sharp angles.
Dean could cry.
It’s a slick wet sound and the startled stuttering cry as Claire pulls off, mouth hanging open and her shoulders roll. Yeah, even when you expect it coming, Sam’s dick is always startling.
Moving over her, Sam clasps a hand against the back of her neck and pushes down, “Keep going.”
Eyes rolling, Claire groans and takes Dean into her mouth again. Less technique, now, as Sam fucks her from behind. Moving with him, his pace sets her sliding along Dean, mouth slack and spit messy as she loses focus. It’s hot and slick and it would be so fucking easy to let go, his stomach cramping with how bad he needs it, toes curled and he’s pulling hard enough to hurt against his restraints, but a loud crack echoes again and Sam has a fist her hair saying, “Easy, he’s too close.”
Okay, maybe Dean is crying a little.
Claire gives these breathy little grunts every time Sam shoves into her, his big hands on her wide hips pulling her back onto it. She’s fallen onto her elbows bracketing Dean’s thighs, soft breasts brushing against him, mouth purposefully left wide and loose as she tongues and breathes against his cock in the worst kind of tease. Her pretty hair gets tangled with spit against his balls. Sweat beads on her forehead, her hands gripping hard into his sides as Sam fucks her stupid, makeup smearing, she blinks hazy and unfocused at Dean.
The sight of Sam’s body flexing and rippling behind her, tan and broad and every bit of it confident control, has Dean’s body juddering with phantom orgasm. Sam curls a hand under Claire’s belly, touches her where it makes her spasm and drop Dean’s dick out of her mouth, chanting ohgodohgodohgod.
Everything stops.
Sam pulls out, hand grazing down her back, and Claire is snagged right on the cusp, her face twisted with almost almost.
“Did I say you could stop?”
“Fuck,” Claire groans, drops her forehead to Dean’s sweaty hip, drags her tongue over his dick, and Sam starts again slowly.
Lazy, unhurried, easy he rolls his hips, moves his hand between her legs, nips across the swell of her shoulders and Claire’s mistake is to Dean’s detriment too. He’s pretty sure he’s whining loud enough behind his gag to warrant some concern, but all he sees in Claire’s eyes is her own need, and in Sam’s that familiar cruel amusement.
Claire earns a few more swats to her pretty ass when she brings Dean too close, and as Sam slants her hips up higher, Dean can see the pink imprint of his hand spreading over the top of her ass. Everything throbs and he can’t focus on which hurt is the most, which need is the most.
Sam finds even more slights to stop Claire just before. He always does. And when he finally, precisely when he wants to, presses into her and against her with intent purpose that hurtles her over that damned edge, Claire shakes apart so violently Dean worries she might hurt herself.
His dick, of course, is lonely and cold on his belly at this point.
Sam hauls her up by her long tangled hair, pulls her to straddle his lap as keeps fucking up into her through it. Fingers circling expertly over her clit as he works in deep, he pulls through another few rolling orgasms as Claire spasms and clutches on tight to his forearm, tits bouncing so sweetly and her face scrunches up in what you would think is pain.
When Sam finally lets her go, she’s drenched. The jeans spread tight over Sam’s thighs, halfway down, are dark and wet. Claire collapses in a sprawl over Dean’s thigh. Dean has empathy for her, but come on, she’s done her part, she could just give him a quick squeeze and relieve his pain.
But no, Sam taps her ankle, tosses her shorts and top to her, passes her a few more bills. Claire, in a stupor, stumbles up right and pushes her hair off her face.
“What, seriously, you kicking me out now?”
“We’re done,” Sam flicks a finger between him and her, “I still have to take care of him,” Sam flicks a finger to Dean.
“I could - “ Claire starts.
“No.” Sam strips the condom off.
They don’t use one, between them.
Sam’s still hard, unfinished. As much as he’s a sadistic jerk that gets off on the power of edging other poor, unsuspecting souls - and his brother, who always suspects - Sam is amazingly in control of his own dick too.
He pushes his jeans the rest of the way down and Dean wants to bite the insides of his thighs.
“Man, I can’t walk.” Claire drops into the wobbly, scratchy upholstered chair in the corner of the room. “Can’t I watch?”
Arms slung along the back of the chair, all sated easy slouch and she doesn’t seem to care if they’re brothers now, Claire has a familiar dopey smile on her face.
Sam shrugs as if to say ‘fine’. He unknots one of the ropes holding an ankle, snaps the electric cable off one wrist, leaves the other two restraints tight. Dean makes a swipe at his gag, Sam bats his hand away.
Pulling the vibrating plug out of Dean, Sam tosses it over the side of the bed and Claire’s eyes track it curiously. Sam grabs the lube on the night-stand, slicks his fingers to spread wet inside Dean. One free hand, Dean clutches at his brother’s shoulders, curves his fingers against the shifting muscle and tamps down violently against the sharp surge of arousal that almost pushes him over the edge at the perfunctory stretch of Sam’s fingers inside him.
Sam tugs his free leg high, knee bent, slings it up and braces his arm at Dean’s side, keeping his leg wide and high as Sam slides inside, bright wide stretch of him so suddenly sweet it sweeps up and down Dean’s body with shocks.
“Shh, shh,” Sam shushes him, swipes a thumb against Dean’s wet cheeks.
Curled over him, bracketing him, pinning him down, Sam fucks Dean mercilessly. Lurching way up beyond what he thought was the edge so fast he’s reeling, somewhere in the fucking stratosphere, body gone white and wide and undefined, Dean screams as he jerks, tenses, breaks and quakes and he ascends into the fourth fucking dimension.
Sam is shivering on top of him when he comes back down, hair hanging over a red flushed face, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose onto Dean, muscles flexed tight as he finishes with his hips pressed flush into the cradle of Dean’s thighs.
“Holy shit.”
Oh yeah, Claire’s still here.
Sam huffs, tosses his hair, straightens. He unbuckles the gag first, knowing it’s not Dean’s favorite. Carefully eases the cockring over a swollen sensitive dick. Dean flexes his jaw, his tongue. Sam works on the last two restraints.
“I don’t know why you guys have to pay some cheap hooker, like, you could make money if you went into porn or something.”
Sam’s laugh is wry. “I’m pretty sure you can walk by now.”
“Do you guys have like, a mini bar or something?” Is her non-answer. “I could use a drink.”
The look that Claire sends Dean, now that he’s not tied down and silenced, is something darker than her words say, something questioning.
Dean summons the strength to sit his jelly body up, smiles his most charming smile at her, voice raspy as he shoves a foot in Sam’s side and say, “Yeah, Sammy, c’mon, don’t your two hard working ho’s deserve a drink?”
A shadow came rushing and stumbling down the cavern with another figure in their arms. When the flickers of the fire reached the two figures it was then clear who had arrived.
Damian Wayne- or Al Ghul, whatever it is he carried as his last name, looked frightened for his life. He had scratches and flesh wounds around his body, blood trickling down his forehead. But it was the woman in white robes that was stained with blood and dirt in his arms that looked far worse than him. In fact, she looked a tinge blue and she was holding onto her stomach trying to stop the bleeding from a wound there, but it clearly wasn’t working as she was dripping blood on their tracks.
She coughed blood as she tried to talk, Damian looked down at the woman. Her black bob hair was wet from her sweat mixed with blood.
“Please, Raven, don’t try to talk.” Came Damian’s shaky voice as he continued to stumble as he carried her. “We’re almost there.” His eyes locked at the green liquid that was too many paces too far from them, it might as well have been a mile. But he had brought her here, he was so close.
“Please just hold on.” His tone was begging, desperate.
Raven tried to pick herself up, pull herself by his shoulder, and he froze for a second as he looked at her with wide eyes.
“N-no, we-we don’t know how it will affect me.” She struggled as she tried to get out of his hold. His eyes darkened as he firmly held her in place, he looked ahead at the goal clearly in front of him.
He continued to walk, “I don’t care.” His paces were heavy as he was extremely weak, but he would not lose her, not when the Lazarus Pit could help her. Not when it was clearly in front of them.
“Da-damian.” She begged and then coughed blood.
“Stop talking.” His always firm voice was weak and begging, scared and hurt and so very afraid of losing her. He was afraid his name would be the last words she said, and barely with any strength. She never spoke his name so weakly until now and this fact alone made his heart ache deeply.
“Almost there.” He mumbled more to himself than to Raven. He had been mumbling encouraging words to himself, it was all he could do to keep himself sane.
“We don’t know how this will affect me or the pit.” She begged as the tears fell from her eyes and she clenched his chest.
“I don’t fucking care!” He yelled; the pain he didn’t want to manifest came as hot streaks of water from his eyes down to his cheeks.
He will not lose her, not when that vile pit existed. He continued to walk with a reignited desire to save her. The only goal in his mind, the only option, whatever comes after he would face head on as long as she was breathing and alive.
“Damian.” Raven wept but he could not be stopped. He will use the pit to save her from this fatal wound, from death’s door.
Raven wanted to call out his name again, but found that she was growing weaker, and saying his name only hurt in more ways than one. So she endured as tears fell down her cheeks too.
Who would have thought that she would see Damian cry like this? She never thought she’d see him this broken because of her.
Raven hurled and blood came out of her mouth as she coughed. Damian could only squeeze her in his arms. Almost there was the thought that made him power through the pain.
Raven’s eyes were shut as she tried to cough the blood out of her throat and willed herself to make it till he placed her into the pit. At the very least, she should try and make herself conscious till then. She didn’t want him to put her into the pit, but he wanted to– he had to, she felt his desperation as if it was hers. And so she will let him, it wasn’t like she had the strength to fight him anyways.
“Raven.” He stared at her for a second as they stood before the pit.
“I love you.” She said in reply to him calling her name as he walked into the pit and he held her closely to his chest and submerged her into the waters.
“I love you.” She whispered again as a tear slipped from her eye before her face was fully submerged. But he never said the words back, even when she repeated them.
Damian concluded that his wounds didn’t matter, they were nothing but flesh wounds and so he stepped out of the pit and waited for her on the side. She would need him in case she turned insane because of the pit’s after effects.
And so, Damian waited, in the quiet cave with flickering torchlights for the woman he loved that was dying to be fully revitalized.
But the wait was agonizing and longer than he expected. He then became too worried; he couldn’t look at the pit that had no signs of life so he turned his back on it.
Why was it not working? Was it because of the pits’ origins? Raven did warn him– they didn’t know how it would affect her.
Damian felt helpless kneeling on the floor, his back against the pit and his palms on the ground as his eyes burned due to the tears.
He couldn’t be without her. This had to work. He found himself praying to whatever entity that would hear him to– at least make it work.
Please.
But the wait continued on and the quiet cavern was now filled with a sickening silence that Damian hated more as the minutes passed.
He didn’t know how long he waited but enough time passed that he finally felt hopeless and resigned.
The Lazarus Pit probably couldn’t cure her. He wasn’t even able to tell her that he loved her, tears fell from his eyes and it did not stop. He didn’t want to say them because he thought he still had the chance once the pit healed her.
Damian squeezed his eyes and sobbed.
Raven was gone.
“Damian?” Hearing Raven’s careful voice was indescribable. Damian gasped at the sound and turned to look at her, the surprise in his face disappeared and quickly matched the confusion she had.
Raven stood in an empty pit. The vile green liquid he knew as the Lazarus Pit was gone.
“Damian?” She called out again, this time her voice tinged with fear and he too was frightened. Raven coughed and that made him rush to her side. Damian slid down the pit even more scared than a moment ago.
Damian’s shaking fingers cupped her cheek and his other hand wiped her hair off her face. He was so frightened that the pit really didn’t work, but was cruel enough to give them this moment.
Raven continued to cough. The tears streaming down his face felt nonexistent. He was so terrified.
What if the coughing was the side effect of the pit working?
What if at the next second she will just fall and turn into a lifeless corpse?
Raven coughed again as she tried to pull away and Damian’s hand froze as he saw the familiar green liquid trickle down the corner of her lips.
Was it really just a cruel trick the Lazarus Pit was giving the couple, like a cruel last miracle to haunt him after?
“Damian?” Raven called his name again, but this time it was as weak as when she had called him moments before she entered the Lazarus Pit.
Raven’s knees gave in and she fell towards him and he frantically caught her but fell on his knees too.
“No, no…” The son of Batman heard his desperate cry. The tears on his face felt searingly hot once again.
But Raven, his beloved Raven, continued to cough green liquid from her pale lips. He propped her up with his knee and cradled her.
“No…” His voice was so soft and in pain that anyone who would have witnessed such a sight would wonder if he really was the heir of the Demon’s Head.
In Raven’s weakened state she attempted to lift her hand. Damian felt the movement and looked at her shaking hand that was midway towards him. He captured that hand and let it rest against his cheek. He couldn’t let her suffer anymore.
His green eyes stared at her ashen face.
There were no words that could be said now, they were both clearly in pain.
Raven’s eyes fluttered and Damian’s heart squeezed inside his chest.
No, he didn’t want her to close her eyes. Before his objections could be said, Raven’s eyes had closed.
Her breath soon followed and came to a stop.
And he heard his sharp inhale pierce through his ears as it bounced around him within the cavern.
His body automatically crouched over her head as he cradled her lifeless corpse. He found that his voice was hoarse. He wondered if he had been screaming in sorrow when she didn’t emerge instantly from the pit. Or maybe when he approached her in the empty pit, perhaps he was screaming.
Or maybe it was now. The ‘I Love You’, the ‘Don’t leave me’ and ‘This can’t be happening’ were not registering in his head. The phrases he kept repeating despite his hoarse throat and aching heart.
At one point, Damian just knew that he couldn’t find his voice and strength to vocally scream his pain anymore.
Raven was really gone. The pit was gone and she wasn’t even saved. Her body was cold and so was the space inside the cavern, it was so terribly cold. In fact, Damian could feel the chilliness inside his body too.
The useless piece of liquid didn’t even bring her back. The liquid disappeared but didn’t even return anything to him.
Damian’s sorrow was turning into anger and then suddenly a sharp inhale from lips that wasn’t his resonated through the empty cave and more importantly his ears.
He gasped as he looked down and stared at the lips of his beautiful lover.
Raven was gasping for air like she was a fish out of water, violet eyes open. Damian’s green eyes were wide as he saw green lines all over her face. He studied her briefly and found that it was her veins all over her body that were protruding and glowing a familiar shade of green– the Lazarus Pit’s shade. Aside from green veins there were similar green lines reaching into her eyes and he felt her body heat up.
She gasped loudly again and then silence. The green lines in Raven’s eyes disappeared along with her green veins as a faint greenish glow surrounded her entirety.
Then Raven became slack again.
Damian was left confused. He couldn’t hear her breathing for at least five seconds and then– soft even breathing.
Raven’s eyes opened and it revealed the same green as the Lazarus Pit instead of her usual violet hue. Damian was very perplexed and then she blinked and her green eyes were gone. Damian was now staring at the familiar violet shade that he knows and loves.
“Hello.” She sat up studying him, a small sly smile on her lips. It was like she wasn’t injured or in pain a few seconds prior, her tone was calm and collected. It somehow eased the agitation Damian was fighting within himself.
Did he want to know what happened?
Did he want to know the consequences of his actions?
Did it really matter?
Damian cupped both her cheeks and steadily held it in place as he studied her new found vitality. She smiled back at him with a tint of mischievousness and held his face in her hands by his jaws.
He had so many questions.
“I feel– very much alive.” Raven said with a sinister smile on her lips.
He should be afraid. But Damian was the son of Batman, a trained assassin who is the son of Talia Al Ghul and grandson of Ra’s Al Ghul, afraid was only a moment he felt when he thought he had lost her.
When he thought he lost his beloved Raven?
Clearly, she was alive perhaps altered a little, but alive and that was all that mattered.
Damian leaned his forehead against hers as he exhaled, his eyes locked on her eyes. With the same smile on her lips, she inhaled his breath.
It was clear that his future is now altered too.
How can he be a hero when villains would and could take everything from him? They had already tried taking Raven away from him permanently.
He often wondered why he was holding back when he had the Lazarus Pit and could save the love of his life at any time. If needed, Damian could use the pit to resurrect her. He didn’t imagine that he’d have to use the Pit to actually save his girlfriend that could heal virtually any wounds– except the one they were faced with that night. But now, there was no reassurance that he could use the pit if anything deadly was to happen to her.
Damian might have put her into the green waters of the pit as a hero but he emerged from this incident as a different man. He noticed the darkness in Raven’s eyes and he brushed the corner of her eyes gently.
He could not be Damian Wayne, not when he used the pit like this. The League of Assassin’s would not allow it anyways. He would also need the League’s resources and data about the pit now that the situation has become like this. Now that they were on an empty Lazarus Pit. He’d also have to pay the price for this.
He can clearly see that Raven was changed because of the pit. He wondered how the pit changed his lover.
“I’m still the same.” Raven replied in a steady manner as if she had read his mind, but there on her lips was still a sinister smile.
He knew she wasn’t the same.
“I love you.” He brushed her nose with his. Whatever has transpired here, he will stick by that decision. He decided that it is the best decision to become the next Demon’s head after all.
They were both changed that day.
The decision to become the next Demon’s Head proved to be the right thing to do in the coming days after Raven was revived.
Raven was the same for the most part, however, when she bled, she bled green liquid. The color of the Lazarus Pit and her wounds would instantly heal without using her magic to heal.
It didn’t take long for them to find out that all the Lazarus Pits were now nothing but empty pits.
She did warn him that they didn’t know how it would affect her or the pit. However, who would have thought that it would affect the pit itself in this way?
Raven was also more attuned to her demonic side and took pride and joy in extracting information for the League with whatever skill or method she has in her disposal. In a simple word: torture, she had come to marvel at such a dark thing.
Raven didn’t even affiliate herself as a hero anymore, she would kill without a second thought. She wouldn’t allow anyone who could possibly bring Damian’s demise to be alive. But her love for Damian was the same, be it him as a Wayne, an Al Ghul, a Titan– she still loved him the same.
The same thing could be said about Damian’s feelings for Raven. Maybe at first, he felt trepidation over her change but ultimately accepted them because it was simply the price that came in exchange for her life.
Since the fact that there is no more working Lazarus Pit, Damian could understand her willingness to kill. Without the pit, if he was heavily injured, he could not be healed, in fact he cannot prolong his life like what his grandfather did.
But Raven is the Daughter of Trigon, she will surely find a way to preserve her lover for as long as she lives. After all, the two would spare no expense for their partner.
The empty pits in multiple places that used to house green liquid that could heal and revive the dead is a clear proof of the kinds of lengths they were willing to go for one another.
Damian will live as long as Raven would, being Trigon’s daughter had its merits after all.
THE END.
~.~.~.~.~.~.
Author’s Notes:
This is actually not how I initially wanted to make this AU. I only realized AFTER I finished it. With that said, I plan to make the right one, entitled: Eternity (that’s the plan at least) Details would be different from this, if you are interested keep posted on my profile or something.
Raven was a woman who came out of nowhere. A full-grown woman of unknown origins that had power that could not be explained had abruptly entered earth.
The Justice League saw her for what she was—a threat.
Raven, however, simply affiliated herself as neutral but on occasion helped the Justice League when faced with an extinction level threat. Even though she fought by their side she would make it evidently clear that she was not good nor was she evil. And because she has helped The Justice League a few times; The Justice League became lax in keeping an eye on Raven and labelled her as an antihero instead.
Damian Wayne or as he is now known as– Damian Al Ghul had a different kind of story. He was more bad than he was good and he now leads the League of Assassins. However, there was a time in his teens where he allied himself under the Justice Leagues’ guidance and closely with and directly under Batman and their version of justice. Now Damian fought for a different kind of justice, one which painted him black in the eyes of the Justice League.
But on occasions, when the world faces possible extinction, he would step up and put his differences with the Justice League aside and maybe that was how the two crossed paths.
The Justice League wasn’t quite certain if that was how Raven and Damian met, but it is a fact that they are rather uneasy with this development.
Raven and Damian became known as lovers and the Justice League was even more worried over this progression when it was revealed.
They were dangerous. And even more so for Raven, who they recognize as a being who could level the planet, who also regularly threatens them to do so if any harm comes to Damian Al Ghul.
So, when news of Damian Al Ghul’s demise reached the Justice Leagues’ ears, it felt as though the entire earth was holding in its own breath.
“I told them, didn’t I? If anything were to happen to you, I would destroy this planet.” She mumbled to her dead lover, whose head was resting on her lap as she caressed his pale cheek. “So, tell me, why didn’t you take my threat seriously? You loved this planet more than I, so why would you allow yourself to turn out like this?”
And as natural as it is, as the dead could not speak, her lover did not respond to her.
A man running towards Raven screamed ready to swing his sword on the woman on the ground, who thought she was preoccupied with her loss.
And oh, how wrong he was.
He stopped from his advance as he was engulfed in purple flames. Raven’s eyes that were violet had started to glow.
The man didn’t even have the time to scream, or maybe she couldn’t hear his wails of pain, it didn’t really matter– not even a body was left of the man in the following second. She exhaled and purple flames circled her and it stretched for a meter in width.
“How noisy.” Her eyes glow brighter, the same shade as her violet eyes. She cradles her lover on her chest with vacant eyes that continue to glow a steady violet. And then everything around her seemed to slow down and turn grey. And Raven’s violet eyes slowly turned red.
The red in her eyes matched the sky as she grew horns. Her skin slowly turned red. The grey sparrows that were flying and the grey leaves that rustled around them slowed to the point that they were close to being frozen in time.
“Raven!” Someone called out, and the transformation on her skin halted, but the earth still remained close to being frozen. Raven’s skin reverted back to its usual paper white hue, but her horns remained, her violet eyes red and the whites were now black. She turned her head to see Batman still in color and moving perfectly fine, a grim smile on her lips. Wind blows and an unkindness of ravens caw and fly overhead.
Batman covered himself from the sudden strong gust of wind and dust by using his cape as a shield. When the wind stopped and the cawing subsided, he placed his arm down. Raven and Damian were no longer where he had seen them.
The sky was still red, everything was grey except for batman. His Justice League comms started ringing, there was color on the flashing screen.
Raven and Damian reappeared in front of the Lazarus Pit in Nanda Parbat. She looked down on Damian whose skin was blue.
“We shall reunite my love.” She said, as he was lifted up gently by her magic in a purple hue as he floated in front of her. With a small wiggle of her fingers, Damian hovered above the green liquid and slowly went down to the waters of the pit.
Raven watched quietly as the green liquid consumed him. And an ache in her chest that she could not fully describe was felt as she stared at his body being swallowed by the Lazarus Pit.
Damian had told her the properties of the Lazarus Pit.
And she waited. And waited. And waited.
Until instead of kneeling with her legs folded underneath her, she sat on her butt. Her knees were bent in front of her as she waited by the edge of the pool.
And she waited.
She brought her knees closer to her chin as she continued to wait. She started to become agitated.
Was the Lazarus’ Pit not working? Could it not revive the dead?
Was Damian wrong?
And the black in Raven’s eyes turned white again, her eyes no longer red but purple and her horns resided until they were gone. Perhaps Raven reverting back to her actual appearance emphasized the pain she was feeling. It was so painful that she took the form of the woman he loved.
If she has to, then she will put the whole human race at stake to bring him back from the dead. Her iris turned solid red with the decision as she clenched her fists.
A tan hand finally came out of the green liquid, followed by screaming and a deranged Damian aiming towards Raven with an outstretched hand. Before his hand could even touch her throat, Raven’s fingers were already outstretched towards her lover’s forehead, a violet glow emitting from her fingertips.
She shushes him gently, and his eyes slowly dims. Damian blinked and gulped down saliva, swaying a little. After a few more blinks his eyes cleared up and he looked at his lover with a gentle gaze.
“Raven…” Damian called her name out, as his face showed his confusion. His hand that was awkwardly outstretched towards Raven, cautiously touched her cheek. Raven placed a hand over his hand that was on her cheek and with her freehand she gripped his wrist. Her eyes closed as she leaned onto the hand on her cheek.
She had almost lost his touch, his body temperature that was certainly not there anymore– but now that is just a thing of the past.
Damian Al Ghul was now alive and breathing.
“Welcome back, my love.” She softly whispered to him with a loving tone. Her red eyes reverted back to normal when she opened her eyes again. And the earth felt like it could finally breathe. Time went back as it should be, and the grey tone of the world reverted back to its original colors and hues.
“What did you do?” He asked as he too felt the shift of the entire planet, his free hand splashed on the water. He looked down, and realized where he was. He was certain that he was killed but now that he was gazing at the waters of the pit, he knew he really did.
He knew he was killed. He knew his last thoughts were seeing her one last time. He wanted to hold her and tell her he loved her so much.
He knew he had died. And yet, here he was breathing and alive.
“Raven—” His eyes locked onto hers.
“Do not worry about it.” Were her final words as she edged near him and rested her forehead against his. “I have told you this before, there is no price I am unwilling to pay for you.”
He couldn’t respond because he too would do the same if it was her, but– he stared at her and cupped both her cheeks.
He wondered how much pain she felt seeing him like that. He knew that she didn’t care much for this planet and its people, after all she had not grown up here on this planet. In fact, when Damian and Raven met she didn’t care much for anything but she then started to deeply care for him and only him.
“I would have done the same thing.” He whispered as he knew that he would. Damian leaned down to kiss her and she closed her eyes.
If Damian had died she would have destroyed this planet. She would not want this earth to remain to haunt her due to the loss of the man she loved. But she would also do everything in her power to return him to her side.
If Raven had not done this, he would not feel her warmth again.
She wouldn’t feel his warmth again.
The thought was something she could not accept, even when she was so very close to having that as her reality.
Raven had seen the devil, lived and grew up in hell with the devil as her father. This earth– him– Damian, was the only thing that linked her to being relatively normal. She knew she was part human, and it was him who made her really feel that part of her.
She wasn’t going to allow herself to lose him.
“I love you.” She whispered to him, holding his head against hers. Tears falling from her eyes, this was the first time she cried and this was the first time Damian had seen her tears.
“I love you too.” He replied back sincerely.
They shared a tight hug after and Raven’s violet eyes turned red and the whites were black as she gave a sly smile.
The beauty of this earth was only Damian, if he was not here– turning this place the way her father wants wouldn’t be a problem.
In a sterile white room devoid of any color and of any indication of ownership or personalization, laid a single figure on top of a white medical bed, white sheets tucked over her sternum. The room felt bright because of the color, it was also rather lonely and rather very empty—except for the pale woman with long purple hair that laid on the bed. An empty chair on her right side and bedside tables with nothing on top, on either side of her bed. Her hands laid on her sides and her eyes closed. There was no indication of movement except for her quiet breathing.
The door opened to reveal Damian Wayne in a white button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slacks and black dress shoes. Despite his neat outfit, his hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot with eyebags underneath. He looked as though he had not slept well at all—which was likely the case.
Afterall, he had not slept well since the day Raven got stabbed. There were good days and bad, now—today was a better day. He walked to the empty chair beside Raven’s right hand, his back facing the door. He sat on the chair and gazed longingly at the figure on the bed.
And he recalled what had transpired that night—the night that caused Raven’s current medical condition.
Raven had fallen and her eyes slowly fluttered close. He could tell that she was trying not to lose consciousness. Raven lifted a hand towards Damian and Garfield’s general direction making Damian wonder if she was trying to reach out to him or Garfield.
‘It had to be Garfield.’, He thought because it would not make sense if Raven was trying to reach out to him. Damian couldn’t help but feel very bitter inside. She would never choose him. She would unlikely want to hold him with her dying breath.
At this moment the creature was distracted by Tim who was on the other side, seeing this—Damian took the opportunity to run to Raven. He took note of the footsteps that followed behind him, Garfield was right behind him as they ran toward Raven.
Her raised hand was faltering and Damian felt as though his heart was about to jump out of his throat– out of fear.
No. You cannot close your eyes. I will not allow it!
Damian ran faster towards Raven and as her hand fell to the ground, he finally reached her side. But her eyes had also closed, and Damian held his breath as he– so very gently, held her in his arms.
“Raven! Raven!” He called to her frantically. “No. No. No. Don’t close your eyes, please come back, stay conscious!” His breathing was ragged, his heart beating loudly in his ears. Damian bit his lip and held his breath in a conscious manner, as he tried to calm himself, and think. He had to think.
“Raven! Oh god no.” Garfield stood hovering above Raven, and the next second he was reaching out to Raven. But Damian pulled her closer to him and gave Garfield the darkest and cruelest glare Garfield had ever seen. And Garfield froze, he took a deep breath and gulped down his fear.
“Gar…” Terra came running towards Garfield, and her eyes laid on Raven. “No, if-if she didn’t try to protect me—” Damian gave Terra the same glare Garfield received, making her unable to finish her thought. She froze in fear too.
“We have to stop her bleeding.” Damian absent-mindedly said, his voice cold, and as he scanned Raven’s wound, his eye twitched. Raven had a gaping hole on her chest, Damian did not want to think about it—but the situation was truly grim.
“How are you going to—” Garfield received another glare from Damian.
Damian was not asking or seeking their help to stop Raven’s bleeding, he had said what he had said to inform them only. He will deal with Raven’s injury, no one else is suitable.
Damian reached for something in his utility belt, and he pulled out three silver balls. His facial expression seemingly frozen in a cold and uncaring manner as he placed the one-inch sized ball strategically on her gaping wound. He placed one on top and two at the bottom, forming a triangle. It beeped and glowed a faint blue and from it came out a purple like foam.
Damian’s right eye twitched, his lips pressed together so much that his lips became pale and his brows drawn so closely together, that he looked like he would punch the next person who would touch him.
He had no choice. This was the only way to ‘plug’ Raven’s gaping hole. She was losing too much blood because of it.
Damian clenched his teeth even more, if that was even possible. He leaned Raven on his right arm as his hands clenched tightly. If he had not had gloves on, then anyone would be able to see how white his fist had become. His brows still tightly knit together, it looked painful to watch his brows like that.
And to Garfield and Terra, he looked like the scariest man on earth. They seemed to fear Damian more than the unbeatable monster that had stabbed Raven into this state.
Damian hated what he had to do. He hated that he had to plug Raven like this. He hated that he knew he had to put her down now. Now.
There was a moment of hesitance, but Damian bit his lip till it bled to keep his focus.
“We need to put Raven in a safe spot,” He said in a clipped manner as he picked Raven up in his arms in a princess carry, “Distract that thing and keep him far away from her.” He continued absent-mindedly as his eyes quickly analyzed the best spot to hide her away.
And at the same time, he recalled her injury. There were no organs that were damaged, that at least is a good thing. And he hoped and prayed– at that same moment– that Raven can survive this.
With Damian standing on his full length, Garfield snapped out from his frozen state and had begun to reach out for Raven once again.
“Don’t you dare touch her!” Damian snarled in such an unsightly manner that Garfield remembered the initial fear Damian gave him. Terra did not feel the fear again because she was looking at Garfield with worry and realization. Terra missed to see Damian’s expression and his words did not register in her mind because she knew at that moment while looking at Garfield—that Raven and Garfield will always have history.
Of course, she knew of Raven and Garfield’s relationship and didn’t mind it. Raven was simply his past. Garfield told her that he loves her, and that he would never go back to Raven—if that was something Terra worried about. And he must have kept his word. But the years Raven and him shared was something that could never be erased. And emotions built up throughout those years was something that couldn’t be replaced so easily. To realize such a thing now of all places—
Damian had accidentally hit Terra as he started moving, cutting Terra’s thoughts. For a second her eyes laid on the boy wonder—and to her, she did not see a hero protecting or saving someone. She saw a man holding someone in a way that showed he was too afraid to hold any tighter in fear of losing her. A man refusing to blink, too afraid that it would be his last sight of her and that she would turn into dust any moment now. He held her in such a cautious manner—that it hurt to see him so forlorn like that.
That was something she thought she would never see in Damian Wayne. His body—every cell seemed to radiate a want to not let go of the woman in his arms. A conflict of holding her so tightly so he can remember how it feels to hold her and yet—still, he was a man of responsibility. Despite his desire to just be with her—he knew where he stands—the monster was still there.
Terra quickly turned, refusing to see Garfield’s expression—it was something she did not want to see right now.
“I will cover for you, Damian.” She told him firmly not waiting for a response and simply initiated her suggestion.
Damian sighed loudly in the white room, his forehead resting on his hands that was propped up on the bed beside Raven’s right hand. When they finally got to neutralize the enemy, the first thing Damian did was run to where Raven was. He was so afraid that when he got there, she would be cold and blue.
But she held on.
She held on.
He sighed again, as he turned his head that was resting on his right hand towards Raven.
He begged his father to help him keep her alive, and the first few months—God those were awful. When they arrived to have her healed, nothing was working. Whatever that creature was and what he did, messed with her. He begged his father to do anything—anything. Somehow, they found a way to stabilize her and close the gaping hole in her chest—of course every step was a struggle.
Seeing her with so many tubes and monitors, some advanced tech and some actual alien tech, hurt Damian in a way that a bullet shot could not compare. And he felt so helpless. It was probably the helplessness that hit him even worse than a bullet wound.
Damian Wayne—son of Batman, son of Bruce Wayne, a robin—a boy wonder—an assassin at some point, still a man seen as the heir of the Demon’s Head—felt so powerless despite all the titles and honor and glory those titles held. He still felt powerless.
He held the woman he had loved for years in his arms, and had to leave her in her injured state to defend the world of the very same creature that injured her in the first place. He left her all alone in a corner—not even knowing if she would be alive when he returned. He knew that having someone guard her would be a waste of manpower. He had to think of the bigger picture—because it is his responsibility, he couldn’t put her over that. And a small part of him hates himself for it.
He had seen her struggle to survive day after day, and night after night since then. The rejection her body faced—and his selfishness, thinking—hoping that she would survive it.
And she did.
She survived everything. And most of the tubes and monitors were finally taken away. Of course, she still had an IV drip and a monitor checking her vitals, just in case. Still, it was fifteen less tubes and monitors—and doctors and scientists.
Damian reached out for Raven’s right hand with his left, his palm resting on the back of her hand. He had gotten so used to all the tubes and monitors, that the first week without them was so unfamiliar to him.
Every time he visited her, he expected the tubes and monitors to multiply and revert back to when they couldn’t seem to cure her. Up until just a few weeks ago, he expected that they would return because she would become unstable again. But it never happened. He was so thankful it never happened. He slipped his right hand under hers, his worries just seemed like paranoia.
“Raven, won’t you wake up already?” He muttered as he had gotten used to talking to himself whenever he visited her.
“I still planned to confess to you,” He chuckled emptily “Won’t you at least let me do that?” He brought her hand to his forehead. “Let me be selfish…”
~.~.~.~.~
The door to Raven’s personal room opened, revealing Damian in his robin uniform, his mask off. He walked to her in a slightly slump manner and he took her hands on his and sighed.
“I’m sorry Raven, it appears that I can’t visit you for the unforeseeable future. Something came up.” He looked at her sleeping face sadly.
“Don’t be angry, I try to visit you every day after all, even if it’s just for a couple of minutes, but I never missed a day since you got injured.” He paused a vacant look on his face. “If you ask me, I’m pretty sure they were lenient on my lack of participation in missions recently because I looked as if I had lost a lover.” He laughed in a broken manner.
“It’s funny– how I am reacting as if I had lost a lover—when we never really got to be together. It would be nice if you wake up—at least let me confess to you clearly. And you can put a rest to my pining.” He didn’t know why, but he felt that he had to rearrange her hair before he left and so he did.
“I will come back, I promise you.” He said as he reluctantly let go of her hand. He refused to look back as he left the room, and took his mask from his utility belt and puts it on.
~.~.~.~.~
The door opened gently again as Damian Wayne in an all-black outfit walked in. He was in his signature black turtleneck. He had on a thin black framed eyeglass on his nose and held a book on his left hand. He had gotten used to opening the door slowly and gently, out of the fear that when he opened the door she wouldn’t be there anymore.
At first, he thought that it was an unreasonable fear, but clearly it was not. He was afraid that the time he wasn’t with her, she would have long been gone. And when he comes to visit, he would be greeted with an empty bed. And he would not be able to even say his farewells.
He closed the door even more gently—because when the door is closed this time was theirs—well his. Because she was still unconscious—still very unaware of his presence.
“Hey Raven, I brought the book I last read to you—I have enough time today to read to you just a few chapters.” He said as he walked to his position beside her. He took a seat on the chair and held her right hand with his right hand. “It would be nice if you woke up soon.” He smiled grimly, the words have started becoming something he said out of habit.
Damian gave her a little recap of what he had read to her before as he held her hand. After that, he continued where he left off, holding her hand when he wasn’t flipping through pages. He read in a slow manner; his mind more aware of the fact that her hand felt so very right against his, instead of the words he was saying aloud.
~.~.~.~.~
Raven was still lying unconscious in the white room, on her white bed. Everything was quiet inside.
“Damian it’s been almost eight months!” Came a voice from outside the room.
“So, what Grayson!” Yelled back the voice of Damian Wayne. He was in an argument right outside of Raven’s room with Dick Grayson, his adopted brother—also known as Nightwing.
“Are you serious Dami?” A pause. “At least let others see her!”
“By others you mean Garfield, right?” A loud bang was heard from inside the room.
“Well—shit, yes! Why won’t you let Gar see her? He has been asking about her or where she is.”
“Don’t you dare bring Garfield to see her—don’t you dare!” A furious reply from Damian as shuffling footsteps were heard.
“Look man, I get it. I really do. But Damian, you can’t just hide her away from her teammates.” Dick said in a tone of anxiousness.
“You see her too.” Was Damian’s quiet response.
“You know that’s not what I mean.” A louder bang entered Raven’s room ending Dick’s words.
“She planned to leave anyway.” Damian said defensively. There was silence for a few seconds and a frustrated humph could be heard from outside the room.
“I—I didn’t think anyone would be able to deal with seeing her in that way—I” Damian paused. “I don’t think they’d want to see her in a coma—I thought it was for the best. I—I’m sorry Grayson, I will let them see her—but—just not Garfield, Grayson. That is all I am asking from you, just not him. He caused her enough pain.” And the door to Raven’s room opened. She still laid there asleep. Damian did not wait for Dick’s reply and he slowly closed the door behind him.
He was in a black button up polo shirt tucked into his black slacks, that was held into place by a black belt with a silver metal piece and he wore his black leather shoes. He looked tired but there was no hint of anger from what had transpired outside Raven’s bedroom.
“You must have heard our little argument, huh?” He said approaching the familiar chair he always sat on when visiting her. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your sleep.” He continued as he sat down on the chair and took her hand in his again. “Of course, I didn’t disturb your sleep, after all you’re still unconscious.” A hollow chuckle soon followed.
Damian placed the back of Raven’s hand against his forehead. “You can wake up now. Scold me for being so selfish. For not allowing Garfield to visit you. In fact, for not letting anyone else visit you aside from a select few. But—mostly Garfield. I will not allow him in here too— in this space– so why don’t you wake up and just tell me how selfish I am.” He tilted his head to look at Raven while her hand was still pressed on the temple of his head.
But as usual there was no response, he was so used to talking to himself by now. At this point, Damian was very convinced that Raven had tried to reach out for Garfield, one last time, before she fainted. And the thought was something that caused him bitterness.
Even in her near-death, Garfield was the last in her mind.
~.~.~.~.~
Damian was sitting on the same chair holding Raven’s hand. Three months have passed since Damian and Dick’s heated argument outside of Raven’s bedroom. He wore a red hoodie with black pants and black shoes. This time around, for the first time, he looked less tired since this whole ordeal happened.
“It looks like you had a lot of visitors this month too.” He glanced at the flowers on both bedside tables, pictures in frames of Raven with the team and other things. Now the room seemed to have a little bit of a personality.
“I think it’s great that you have some visitors. Though I admit, I think that eventually they will come to visit less and less, so I think you should wake up soon. Everyone misses you a lot. I think the longer you stay asleep people would forget about you. Everyone you know is a hero Raven, and even though you stay asleep—we still have to defend the people. Everyone’s priorities will shift and they would have less time to see you. And because they have started settling with your absence, for sure the visits will lessen. But I promise, I will visit you every day until you wake up.” Damian placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand and he froze.
His lips hovering over her hand. He wiped the spot he kissed her at, with his thumb.
“I’m sorry, I should be asking permission. I didn’t—” He stared at the back of her hand. “I’m sorry I don’t know since when I started doing that, but I’m sorry. I overstepped.” He gently placed her hand back on the bed and stood up. “Let’s see what’s in the drawers, shall we?” He muttered to himself and surveyed every nook and cranny and objects in her room, keeping a mental inventory.
“We will be starting a new book soon. I no longer keep track of the books we’ve read.” He said after finishing his inspection of the room and went to sit back on the chair and crossed his arms across his chest.
“Well—I mean I keep track of the titles but no longer itemize them…” He added quietly, he used to count them but stopped at around the fifth book because it seemed like the list would continue to grow. And seeing the number rise would just be another reminder of the fact that the days waiting for Raven to wake was stretching to impossibility.
~.~.~.~.~
It was a little over a year since Raven has been in her comatose state. The room felt heavy and she stirred because of it. Her breathing a little louder—a little labored. Her eyes fluttered open—her vision a blur. She saw two figures at the foot of her bed. The taller one looking at the shorter man. The shorter one was looking at her startled—he seemed to have an odd skin color. She could almost swear it was green. Raven’s eyes started to roll back to unconsciousness.
“Dick, she’s awake!” It was a familiar voice; Raven couldn’t help but think.
“What?” Dick turned to look at Raven, her eyelids slowly closing, her labored breathing slowly quieting down.
“I saw her eyes open; I swear it!” She recognized the voice as Garfield, but knowing who it was did not give her any extra motivation to fight her sleepiness.
“What the fuck is going on here!” Another familiar voice furiously entered Raven’s faltering consciousness. She wanted to wake up—to fight the tiredness she was feeling. But it was simply too late now.
The door had banged open when Damian entered. Damian was still wearing his black outer coat, his shoes dirty as he had just arrived from outside. He had no time to freshen up to visit Raven because he found out what Dick was up to.
When his eyes laid on Garfield who was looking at Raven, he wanted to rip Garfield’s head off. Damian Wayne looked like he was going to pop a vein on his neck. He glared at Dick with such open hostility that Dick was taken aback, and Garfield beside him recalled the fear Damian instilled in him that night Raven got injured.
“Her eyes opened; I saw it!” Garfield said frantically, hoping that would ease Damian’s anger. Damian stole a glance at Raven—but she was at the same state he had last seen her in.
Comatose.
“I asked you one thing, Grayson!” He growled as he slowly stomped his way to Dick whose hands were up in a ‘I surrender’ way. Damian grabbed Dick’s coat collar and pulled him close. “One thing Grayson!” He shoved Dick and pointed at Garfield.
“Look—you can’t continue denying someone who wants to visit a friend.” Dick tried to calm his brother down as he straightened his coat.
“Friend?” Damian snorted in response.
“Look, Damian I begged Dick to bring me to her.” Garfield said and he received Damian’s angry glare.
“Get. Out.” Damian simply said, he looked as though he would kill either of them any second now. For some weird reason Garfield got a little more courage at that moment, he began to open his mouth. Dick seeing Garfield’s lips open—quickly intercepted by pulling Garfield by the arm and pulling him towards the door.
“I’m sorry little D, we will talk about it outside.” Dick said as he draggedGarfield out, giving Garfield a stern look to ensure Garfield’s silence. Garfield wasn’t happy but he understood that Dick was looking out for him.
Damian stood where he was, glaring at Raven as he waited for the door to close behind Dick and Garfield. He was stiff in his spot and his fists clenched so tightly. He was still very much angry. He stood like that for five more minutes before he tried to calm himself down. His fist unclenched and his brows unfurrow.
“So—well, stop pretending then—he’s gone now—so wake up.” He demanded in a low voice as he hovered beside Raven near the chair. She did not move. And Damian laughed brokenly as he fell on his knees. He reached out for her right hand absentmindedly and rested his nose on the back of her palm.
“So, it turns out you just needed him to visit you to wake up?” Damian whispered as tears fell on her hand. “So why aren’t you awake already?” He sobbed.
It was never him—she never chose him.
~.~.~.~.~
It had been four months since Garfield had been regularly visiting Raven, and at times he would also bring Terra with him. Damian had conceded Garfield’s wish to allow him visitation rights to see Raven. Damian could not stay angry at Dick for over two weeks, and the pair reconciled, despite Dick undermining Damian’s wishes. Damian understood that Dick was looking out for him.
Damian’s family was very much worried over him since Raven’s fall. He acted more detached and unapproachable. He wasn’t sleeping well and every second he could spare he was always hovering over Raven. In fact, he slept well hunched by Raven’s bedside with Raven’s hand against his hands and forehead. Damian was even unwilling to celebrate his twenty-second birthday with Raven still unconscious. And they could see the toll it was taking on Damian.
His family knew he needed a little push to try and let Raven’s state go and pushing Damian to allow Garfield entry was the way to do it. Damian needed to move on.
But here he was again, in the white room he specifically prepared for her. Her accommodations are all arranged by him, and his visits are always a constant. But the past four months were difficult, as he was also actively avoiding having to meet Garfield when Garfield was visiting Raven.
When Damian was able to take a step back from his anger at what Dick did—he knew that his family did it to distract Damian—to keep him away from lurking around Raven. He understood it was made of good intentions. Damian reached out for Raven’s hand, a habit he has come to develop long ago.
He wore a plain white shirt with jeans. His hair was not as neat as it usually was, and there were eyebags under his eyes yet again.
“But I guess I am a man who will only love one person in their lifetime.” He muttered, placing Raven’s hand against his right cheek. “I’ve come to wonder sometimes if I am unfortunate to be such a man—or to fall for you—” he studied her face; he has memorized every detail about her. How could he not when he was here, beside her so frequently.
“I’ve come to learn that loving you is not something to be regretful about. In fact, I am rather thankful for it. But you really got me pining over you, Raven.” He sighed, his eyes not capturing even the smallest of movement from Raven. “I love you.” He whispered and brushed his lips against the skin on the back of her hand.
A week and a half after, Damian paced at the foot of Raven’s bed, very much frustrated. He paused and glared at Raven, running his hands through his head, a sign of his developing anger. He stomped towards his spot as he glared at Raven again.
His hair was a mess, his eyebags had gotten darker. His clothes that was a plain black shirt with jeans had creases, very uncharacteristic of him.
“I don’t get it!” He said, containing most of his anger. “You obviously woke up the first time Garfield visited you! Tsk, as it turns out, all you need was for him to visit you– for you to wake up. So why did you go back to sleep!” His tone louder now and he sighed to try and dispel a little of his anger. His hand at his side clenched into balls.
Damian was seething in anger, and he exhaled and inhaled in air as if he was palpitating. Finally, the anger he had dissipated. But it was replaced by raw hopelessness, anyone who would see him in such a state, would feel their hearts knot.
“You really—really got me pining over you.” Damian said as he knelt on the floor with a hunched back as he took her right hand in between his palms. “It’s funny how you pined over someone else as I pined over you—it seems that you’re making me pine over you just as long as you pined over him.”
The chair he usually sat on was across the room, toppled down. A droplet of water falls in front of Damian’s right knee.
~.~.~.~.~
Two months passed just like that. Raven’s friends had long since stopped visiting her as frequently as they did the first three months. Asking them to take so much time off of their busy hero life was too much to ask for. But Damian always made time for her, and at almost a year and a half the toll of doing so had fully manifested.
He looked so tired, his eye bags are in the darkest shade it had been since the accident. He looked thinner, not scarily thin, but it was obvious he had lost some weight. His clothes were as neat as it could be. His white button up shirt crisp and so is his black slacks. His black leather shoes are very shiny. He placed a lot of effort in his appearance because even he could tell that his health has waned, and he was compensating with his clothes.
When Raven was in ICU for the first three months, he was in such a bad state. When she finally got relatively cured but was in comatose, he looked better– more relaxed. Then a little after, he had to continue with his responsibilities, particularly as a hero and somehow, he managed. The weight he had initially lost, he had regained and now he had shed perhaps even more than he did at that time.
But now at almost a year and a half of juggling hero life, personal and family life. Being with Raven almost every day since the night she got hurt. To actively avoid Garfield while Garfield was visiting and arranging his own visits to go around Garfield’s visitation, but also keeping to his schedule and preference of seeing Raven on a very regular basis. And Raven still not waking up—Damian was quite spent.
He was sitting on his chair facing Raven’s right hand. His head propped onto his hands which were propped up on his knees. He was looking at Raven’s face blankly, dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this.
Raven’s state was always at the forefront of his mind. And when he was on a mission, he tried to put it as a lesser priority. But when he is near to death his first thought is: If I die who will look after Raven? And so, he fights with every screaming fiber he had, even when he was in such excruciating pain. After all, he still had to see her wake up.
One would think a year and a half wasn’t really a long time—but it did not feel like it has been just over a year for Damian—it felt like he has been waiting for her to wake up for five years.
He had just realized quite recently, just exactly how much stress he had gotten due to all this. And it was taking a major toll on him. He now completely understood why his family was worried about it—about him. Hindsight after all is 20/20 and he now clearly saw exactly how concerning his state was.
There was only one solution. His eyes flickered to Raven—he had not noticed that his gaze had drifted off of her and was surprised when his eyes laid on her again. He sighed and suddenly stood up, and picked up a lock of her hair.
“Raven, your hair has grown quite a bit—it’s already at waist length. I thought of having it cut—but I think that should be your decision.” He placed it back down. “If you don’t wake up any time soon—I’m afraid I would have to let you go.” He mumbled to himself as he turned around to lean on the bed and gaze at the ceiling blankly.
Two weeks after, Damian was back in her room, looking even worse. This time he was just standing beside Raven with a very empty gaze. He had been standing there in his black slacks, black dress shoes and a green button up polo shirt for fifteen minutes already.
“I give up Rae.” He looked down on the ground. His words were so soft because he was very much afraid of the implications himself. He knew he had to let her go.
“I—I don’t think I can visit you like this.” He fought the tears as he said his words a little louder. And there was nothing left to say, he just softly touched her hand for a second and pulled away and then looked at her blankly.
A month after Damian’s decision to let Raven go, he realized getting to the conclusion and acknowledging what had to be done and executing his decisions were two completely different things. He was still visiting her in the same consistency that he always had. And he knew he had to fight to break the habit that he had already formed. Seeing her was second nature to him, and he simply had to break it.
~.~.~.~.~
Two months after, Damian was finally able to decrease his visits. And had even met Garfield a few times and actually didn’t mind it. His visit reduction was not really significant but the fact he was able to decrease it at all, was a win for him.
He was in jeans and a red shirt, looking very casual and he looked more unbothered and not so tired. His hands in his pockets as he just stood. For the first time, he looked genuinely relaxed. His gaze at her was soft and the eyebags he had been sporting in different shades, for almost two years, were significantly less dark this time.
“I know I don’t visit often anymore—and you probably can’t tell—aside from the obvious,” A small twinkle in his eyes at the little joke. The fact that he could make a joke like that, spoke volumes of how far he had come. “You really made me pine over you for the duration you pined over Garfield. Nine years—you really made this whole thing come into full circle. You pined for him for nine years and decided to move on completely—but this happens.” He gestured at her generally.
“Now I have pined for you for the same duration, and I have decided to move on too.” He said grimly and the hint of playfulness he had prior was gone. “It really came full circle.”
He just stood to her right with a small smile. He tried his best not to stay so long to visit her nowadays. Damian found that standing was the best option in order for him not to stay longer than he intended.
Damian puts his hand atop Raven’s, he has also avoided holding her hand properly or else he’d find himself sitting on his spot and just holding her hand. He would then talk to her and the intended short visit would become like his regular visits from before.
“I have decided. I am moving on—I am letting you go.” And he pulled his hand away a little too quickly, afraid of the temptation that was the familiarity of her hand against his—or maybe it was his hand against hers. After all, it was always him holding onto her.
His head had looked away to look at the flowers on her bedside tables. He has been talking to her about visiting her less, and letting her go for a few months now. At first it was just a passing thought. But the last two months, it seemed Damian had to tell her every time he visited. He was unaware of how frequent he was telling her that. But in retrospect, he could tell now that he had been dropping hints.
It started from hints, to telling her absentmindedly, to repeatedly telling her every time he visits—until finally he was able to visit less. And because Damian turned his head, he missed the small twitch of Raven’s hand when he pulled his hand away, to look at her bedside tables.
There was silence, as he looked down and closed his eyes. He squeezed his eyes for a moment then sighed as he looked at Raven, a faint smile on his lips. He took a step back, feeling as though he was leaving his heart on this spot. He then turned feeling lonely yet strong and regretful at the same time.
When he was gone, Raven’s eyebrow twitched.
The next day when Damian decided to check on Raven’s condition, he was frozen in fear to see the scientist and doctors hovering over Raven who was attached to so many monitors and tubes.
It was like he had stepped into the time she was brought in to close up her wound. He was unfrozen when she saw her spasming. He ran towards her, as her chest lifted and she was choking, black almost slime like blood came out from her mouth and spilled from her oxygen mask.
“Sir—we need you out of the way.” A doctor pulled Damian away. “Who let this one in!” The doctor added and a nurse took Damian away, trying to console him.
“This is odd—there seems to be no traces of the compound we found last time. But her body is rejecting something.” Damian heard the doctor say, at that moment Raven’s eyes opened and her line of sight fell on Damian’s instantly. Her hand lifted slowly to his direction; her eyes wet as her face slowly turned red from the lack of oxygen. A doctor had already punctured her lungs to assist her in breathing, but black blood was oozing out from it.
“Let me, the fuck go!” Damian yelled as he strongly shoved the nurse off of him. He was normally someone who didn’t do this, but seeing Raven’s face slowly contort to fear and resignation, he actually went against the nurse. He remembered when she was in ICU for the first few months he observed quietly from the distance, but he couldn’t now.
“Raven!” He called out as he knelt on the floor and held her right hand that she had stretched out. “I promise, I will not leave you. So, you have to fight this!”
She squeezed his hand in hers as best as she could as her eyes closed and a tear slipped from her eye.
“Sir—I’m sorry but you are being a distraction.” A bulky man approached Damian, giving him no choice but to let go of Raven’s hand and put his hands up as he slowly left the room.
“She’s—I heard the subject has powers—” A person in a lab gown said, perhaps a scientist.
“Patient.” A doctor cuts off the scientist.
Before Damian was shoved out of the room, he stole a glance of Raven, her hand was glowing a faint purple black hue. And it seemed that she could breathe.
“Sir—there seems to be something appearing—” And that was the last thing Damian heard before the door was shut close in front of him.
Two weeks later Raven was finally stable but still in a coma. They were fighting with her condition for those two weeks—cross referencing and analyzing data, finding and testing out new information. And everything has now calmed down. He was only allowed entry today after the stunt that he pulled.
Damian was sitting on his chair, holding her hand. He wore a white t-shirt with many creases. His hair is a slightly better case compared to his shirt. And the outfit was complete with a plain pair of jeans and casual shoes. And to top it all off, his eyebags had become darker again.
”You really scared me. God, I forgot how afraid I was of losing you recently—you really know how to make someone remember, huh?” He muttered as he put her hand against his forehead, he was shaking a bit, as he fought his tears. And he felt her hand twitch against his—and he choked as he looked at her face.
Her eyes were still close but for the first time, he actually felt her react. In two years, she finally moved. He smiled tightly and nodded his head. He brought her hand against his lips and softly kissed her hand.
“You reached out to me that night, didn’t you?” He put her hand against his cheek as he turned his head towards her again. “You have to wake up and clarify that to me.” And he heard her loudly inhale.
For the first time in months, he finally had hope that she would wake up. “I promise you; I will wait for you to wake up. This time, I will not break this promise.”
~.~.~.~.~
The door suddenly opened with a panic stricken Damian. He was unable to take off his outer coat and change into cleaner shoes because he heard a crash from generally where Raven’s room was located, on the second floor, when he had just entered the building.
“Raven!” He called out his fear practically at the base of his throat.
When he heard the loud crash, he feared for the worst. His eyes at first saw an empty bed, and his heart almost jumped out of his chest. The vase on her right bedside table with flowers had shattered on the floor. He quickly searched for Raven, and exhaled deeply when he spotted her at the foot of her bed. She was holding onto her bed with great difficulty. Her eyes observed Damian wearily.
He approached her, thinking that maybe this was a dream.
“Raven.” He whispered when he was two feet away, her violet eyes did not show any recognition at seeing Damian. He picked her up and carried her in his arms, and despite not recognizing him at first, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Damian.” She whispered and he squeezed him back. She rested her forehead on his shoulder, as he carried her back to her bed. He set her down gently as he pulled away, she grabbed his right hand.
“It feels so perfect.” She gently told him, and Damian was startled by her words. A smile slowly formed and he found himself chuckling.
“I’ve been here almost every day, holding your hand. Maybe your hand molded into mine—” He shook his head. “Or maybe the other way around.”
“I—my memory is kind of fuzzy,” Raven said as she laid back in bed. “But I know you, I remember you. I heard you so often. It became scary when you weren’t there.” Her eyes started to flutter, she seemed a little bit too tired. But she continued to hold his hand until she fully fell into slumber, to which her grip loosened.
Damian took the opportunity to call the doctors and scientist to inform them of her condition.
When she awoke again the doctors, scientists and Damian were talking.
~.~.~.~.~
A month after, Raven was already walking by herself inside her room. She started walking around the villa quite recently. But she has not been able to walk outside yet. She found that once the door to go outside the villa was opened, her knees would buckle. So, for the past month she was mostly roaming indoors.
She had found out that this was one of Bruce Wayne’s properties, and Damian had asked for the property. Damian was someone who would never ask anything of anyone if he could do it himself, so it was surprising to everyone that Damian had asked for this villa. And because of that Bruce granted Damian the property, if not for that, in the very least to give Damian some peace of mind. At least then Damian would know Raven had a place to stay and would not be kicked out if he so much as vanished.
She also found out that Damian did not spare any expense in her recuperation and that her situation was quite odd. The creature’s origin could not be quite narrowed down, thus its effects on her were up on the air. But that was where the doctors and scientists and all the tech was for, alien tech included. With the collective resources provided, they were able to make something to assist Raven’s condition.
“Raven, I think you should really try to get out.” Damian said as he walked in. He looked so happy seeing her, just standing by the window gazing out. She turned her head to smile at him.
He looked better—in fact the happiest and relaxed he had ever been in two years. His clothes were pressed well, it was a casual attire, and he had no hint of any kind of weariness. No more eyebags, and his eyes no longer looked so dead.
“If you go with me, I can try.” She responded, she had not seen him in two weeks due to his busy schedule, with the team and talking to her doctors and scientists. Him learning and relearning everything about her condition since she got attacked, and he also had family matters, he didn’t really have time to be with Raven recently and she understood.
She kept herself busy by building her physical strength through walking within the walls of Damian’s villa. She also used the time to comb through her thoughts.
“Okay.” He agreed as he offered her his right hand and she accepted it with both her hands. Until now he couldn’t believe that she was awake.
“I really thought I was dreaming when you woke up a month ago.” He confessed again as he sighed and led her to the door.
“I’m here. Everything is still a bit fuzzy. But I know you—I trust you. Your Damian.” Raven responded unhurriedly as she placed a hand on his arm.
Fifteen minutes later, Damian came in with Raven in his arms weeping.
“I—I can’t… it—it…” And she wept.
“I’m sorry, we will take it step by step. I will be here if you ever want to try and go outside.” He comforted her as he placed her on her bed. She nodded as he wiped away her tears.
“I thought I was going to die—” She sobbed. “There was something I wanted to do… I don’t—” Another sob, “I don’t recall what.”
He held her hands and then she suddenly froze on the spot. She looked at him in the eyes, and she blinked as the tears fell. “I didn’t want to leave you.”
And this time it was his time to freeze on the spot. Raven pulled her hands away from his, and she placed her fingertips on either side of his face.
“I was afraid that I didn’t have enough time with you. I wanted to know you more.” Her vision seemed to go back to that night. “I wanted to be with you.” She absent-mindedly brushed her lips against his. And when the pressure registered in her brain, she pulled away, an apology at the tip of her tongue.
Raven was surprised to feel an even heavier pressure against her lips. And she returned the kiss as well as deepened it. She noted how she was reacting very naturally over the situation, and how inexperienced Damian was. And she pulled away.
“Is this your first kiss?” She asked him. And he looked away with a small blush on his face.
“It’s—I’m very inexperienced with dating…” He admitted, and she observed him as she wiped her tears.
“I’m assuming, I have dated before.” She replied impartially.
“Yes, Garfield.” He responded blankly, and when the name came off Damian’s mouth, he saw her expression soften. His eye twitched as he looked away. He suddenly felt her hands against his, making him turn to look at her again.
“Gar… field…” She muttered, his hand clenching at the way she called his name. “Was he the only one I dated?” Damian nodded in response.
“I see…” She said with furrowed brows. “My head is aching a bit. I think I should rest…” Raven lets go of Damian’s hands.
“Can we try going outside again tomorrow?” Damian was pulled out from his reverie with the inquiry, surprise in his eyes.
“Of course, I would love that.” She smiled at his response.
“Can you—” She looked at him hesitatingly. “Can you hold my hand when we do?”
He was even more shocked to hear those words, and he smiled as he placed a hand on her cheek. “Of course, Raven.”
“I would like to date you, Damian.” Raven stared at Damian, who just pulled his hand away from her cheek and straightened his posture as he looked away.
“Your memory isn’t like what it was Raven, I think it’s too early to say that.” His response wasn’t something she enjoyed but Raven pressed her lips together and did not push him.
She didn’t recall her love for Garfield at the moment and assuming she would choose Damian when she does recall, would be too much of wishful thinking on Damian’s part.
~.~.~.~.~
The sun was setting and the white room was filled with an orange hue from the setting sun outside. Raven and Damian had just arrived from walking outside. This time around she was able to stay outside longer without having flashbacks of the night she got stabbed. It was great progress. But she always held Damian as if he was the only remaining lifeboat in an open, turbulent ocean.
Damian and Raven were continuing a pleasant conversation they had outside in her bedroom, when suddenly the door opened.
“Raven!” Garfield came in with such a relieved look on his face, his eyes expectant as he searched for her. Damian and Raven’s happy conversation grew stale as they turned their head to the door.
“Raven!” He called out again when his eyes landed on her but Raven remained in place. “Of course, you wouldn’t tell me she is awake!” Garfield added with a glare to Damian, whose head was casted down.
“Tsk, Greyson.” He muttered, Greyson right behind Garfield but was hidden from Damian’s line of sight. Despite Damian’s head casted down, he took note of Raven’s reaction.
She was still, she stood in place, but Damian could tell, she was so close to running to Garfield and hugging him. And all Damian could do was squeeze his eyes shut, as he inhaled softly while clenching his fists.
Seeing Garfield, Raven felt like her soul from inside her was vibrating with excitement. And yet, at the same time it felt as though a thin layer of frost blanketed her entire body, and it was enough to render her frozen. Despite her deep desire to hug Garfield, her feet were so heavily planted on the floor, that she didn’t even move an inch. Her breathing was shallow and unhurriedly soft, and she just focused on that.
The days had passed so pleasantly after Raven woke up that Damian had thought that he had a place in her heart. But seeing her like this, he knew—Garfield still outweighs him.
“Get out.” Raven said, to which Damian snapped his head to Raven’s direction, who had simply turned her back and walked to the window. “All of you.”
Damian wanted to say something, his fists curling and uncurling by his sides, but he saw her stiff figure with crossed arms as she stubbornly looked outside. He was the last to leave.
He came back a few hours later, to see Raven sitting by the windowsill looking outside.
“He hasn’t left has he?” She whispered hoarsely not looking at who entered. Damian shook his head as he replied, even though she would not see it.
“His downstairs, hoping you’d at least see him.” He got no response, but she tilted her head.
“I didn’t see him leave.” She muttered vacantly.
“I’m here to convince you to eat dinner.” And Raven turned to look at him, a frown on her face.
“Okay,” She sighed. “But you are eating with me.”
Damian was startled at hearing this, a second passed before the words sunk in.
“Alright.” He blinked at her.
“Here.” She added and he told her that he would be back, as he left for a moment to get them their dinner.
When he arrived with food, they sat on a pub table that was added a little after Raven woke up. It could only sit two people, and it was made of some nice honey brown wood. The cushions of the chair are red and its frame is made of the same wood as the table. It was rather small for two people, but they made do.
Raven was vacantly playing with her food while Damian observed her with a frown. He had not yet scolded her for not eating, as he was giving her just a little more time.
With a sigh she said, “It’s odd, when I saw him, it felt like I just realized the world was a puzzle with missing pieces, and his presence just made all the missing pieces appear on it’s designated places. He was familiar, he was someone I knew—love, maybe even… but something didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t want to approach him. And I didn’t want him to approach me.” Damian just listened as she said her piece.
The two were enveloped in a tranquility that evidently belonged to them, and them alone. They felt secured in each other’s presence and there was no response needed.
~.~.~.~.~
It took Raven three days to be able to even meet Garfield. The sun was setting, and from Raven’s window, one could see Raven talking with Garfield. They were sitting on a bench facing the sunset, their backs facing the window in Raven’s room.
So, it was a given that the two did not see Damian observing them from the window. He did not look upset nor joyful with the scene he was seeing. But once Garfield placed a hand on Raven’s hand, and she tilted her head a bit towards Garfield, you could see Damian’s face slowly turn into unpleasantness.
When the minutes passed, and Garfield nor Raven had not pulled away from one another, his face contorted to wanting to storm out from Raven’s room to standing still and just holding his breath—just hoping and wishing—that she had not chosen Garfield.
But the minutes continued to pass, and Garfield’s hand continued to rest on Raven’s hand. And Raven glanced at him with a smile forming on her lips. And Damian couldn’t help but think that despite Raven having difficulties in leaving the building with him, if it was Garfield with her—of course it would be easier for her to be outside with him– with Garfield.
And Raven started closing in on the space between her and Garfield, and Damian did not want to see that. So, he turned around quickly, and he stood with his back against them, as he flexed his fists, and sighed. He had hurried to see her; he had gone through the garage so he was unable to see them in the yard. Once he got into her room, and she wasn’t there, Damian absentmindedly walked to the window. That was when he saw her and Garfield together on a bench, looking like lovers.
He wondered how long he stood by the window looking at them. He closed his eyes and sighed again, by the end of the day it was never him. He walked to the door without looking back.
A few days later, Raven is pacing her room anxiously. She had not seen Damian in days, she worried he saw her and Garfield the other day and that was why he was nowhere to be seen. But she wanted to explain to him what he had seen wasn’t what he thought. She had to tell him.
And she could feel the panic go up onto her throat. She sat on her bed, facing the door. She had refused to step out of her room after she talked to Garfield—not without Damian. She could not find the strength to go out of her room after her chat with Garfield.
Raven buried her hands on her face as the tears started to stream from her eyes. All she could see under her closed eyes, was the time—that night, when she reached out for Damian. The pain when that black spike hit her sternum.
She recalled her desire to be with Damian, but right now she felt it so very intensely that she was afraid. She was so afraid that she had lost that chance. And the door opened, and in an instant she was up on her feet with wide eyes. Seeing that it was Damian, she sobbed as she ran towards Damian and tackled him with a hug.
He was startled and it took a moment for him to realize that she was hugging him so tightly. He gently returned her hug.
“I thought you wouldn’t come back. I was so scared.” She wept on the nook of his shoulder, her feet not even touching the floor.
“I’m sorry for worrying you.” He replied softly, and tightened his hold on her as he set her down a bit so that she could touch the floor. They stood like that for a moment.
Raven eventually pulled away and tried to collect her bearings. She wiped her tears and looked at Damian in the eyes. On the other hand, he was wishing she hadn’t pulled away– maybe that was the only time he could hold her like that. And she reached for his hands and it felt so right.
“When Gar came, and guided me outside, I couldn’t find the strength to step through the door. All I could think about was that I need you. I need you to hold my hand as I step outside. While that night kept flashing through my mind. But he held my hand—and it felt so familiar. And all my fears just vanished.” She looked down on their feet. “And I found myself outside—with him.” There was guilt in her face and on the tone of her voice. And Damian honestly did not want to hear what she had to say next. But she held his hands tighter, making him decide to just keep quiet. A small smile formed on her lips as tears fell and splatter on the floor.
“I forgot the time I was injured, till the time before he held my hands. It felt like I could breathe again.” Damian’s right eye twitched, he wondered what was her point. She suddenly flicked her head to look at him, and he was startled.
“He will always be someone that matters to me, we will always have history. I have loved him for nine years, we shared so many memories—so many firsts. But I do not want to be with him. I want to be with you. And I know I am asking a lot, but if all these don’t bother you—I would love it, if you would date me.” But she was greeted with silence. “I want you. I want to be with you.” She softly added, her confidence fading.
“I don’t mind.” He said so softly, but Raven didn’t hear it.
“If that is an issue for you, then I completely understand.” She continued on.
“I don’t mind.” He repeated.
“I know it’s been two years, and that there must have been someone you became interested in. Or maybe you’ve even dated a bit. I know we don’t talk about it, but I get that—” She squeezed her eyes, her tone ready to break in a sob.
“Raven, I want to be with you.” He cupped her cheek and tilted her head towards him. She looked at him with the slightest hint of distrust. “I’ve always wanted to be with you—I waited for you.” He said, being able to say those words felt like such a relief to Damian. And the tears started falling from Raven’s eyes as the distrust was washed away.
“I almost gave up, I admit that.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her anymore. She cupped both of his cheeks.
“If I were in your place, even I would waver.” She told him, trying to catch his dodging eyes. When she finally was able to lock her eyes with his, she added. “Garfield will always have some meaning to me—his all I have known for nine years, even before sleeping for two years—my history with him is half of my life. I was afraid. I thought he was the only one who could possibly love someone like me—I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. I want my next memories and moments– with you. And slowly those memories I had, and my history with him, will just be a fraction of my life. I want you. I want every possible milestone with you, Damian.”
He slowly nodded, and when Raven’s eyes registered the nod, he couldn’t help but smile and chuckle. But she looked like she was going to cry out of happiness and disbelieve. This time she has chosen him.
“I never thought this day would happen.” He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers, and a soft smile formed on her lips. And they shared the moment in silence. After a while, Damian talks.
“I was afraid to ask, or open up about this, especially since you were still recuperating—and your memories are fuzzy. But who would have thought you would catch me by surprise and open up the topic yourself?” Raven took the opportunity to plant a kiss on his lips, and he conservatively kissed back to which she deepened the kiss. And she pulled away recalling Damian’s inexperience last time.
“We will take it step by step. I might still remember more about Garfield, and I might get a little confused. But remind me that I chose you since that night.” She leaned her forehead against his, eyes locked with one another. Damian’s eyes flickered with surprise and the confirmation that she chose him that night, made his eyes soften with the acknowledgement. He caressed her face with his thumb.
“I finally caught up to you.” He whispered, a giggle bubbling up on the base of Raven’s throat.
~.~.~.~.~
A few months later, the white sterile room was no longer white nor empty. Raven had flipped the room with Damian’s help and approval. Its walls were now a soft lilac color. The room’s furniture was either accented with white, glass or silver metals. And the ceiling was littered with little crystals, that once the lights were off, would illuminate like stars in different colors. The medical bed swapped for a king sized bed. Her sheets were navy blue and white.
“Raven, are you ready?” Damian’s voice came from outside her open door. She turned in her white fitted dress with the thinnest spaghetti straps. Her long hair that passed her waist was tied into a fishtail braid.
“Of course!” She replied happily, as she ran towards the door, and tackled Damian with a hug and giggled.
“Excited for our brunch?” He teased.
“Absolutely!” She replied without missing a second.
Later that night they were in her bedroom. Damian sat on her bed and she was kneeling over his lap. Raven’s hair slowly unravelling from its braid. Their lips have been intertwined with one another for minutes now. He had one hand on her waist and the other on her thigh, a bit too afraid to rest it on her bum. While her hands were on his neck and on his chest.
Raven broke off the kiss, and started kissing his neck.
“If we’re going too fast, you can tell me.” She muttered in between kisses. But when she did not hear any response, she pulled away to look at him.
“I know Garfield and I had a lot of firsts together, if that bothers you…” Damian broke away from his dazed state and looked at her questioningly.
“I admit, at first it did,” His eyes followed his hand as it traveled from her thigh to her waist which he caressed. “Thinking of how he knows how to please you…” He looked back at her conflicted eyes. “But that just means I have to learn how to please you my way. You two were together for so long—it would be a given that I’m not your first. That is alright. But you are mine.” He admitted a small blush on his face. And she smiled as she kissed his eye and trailed kisses to his jawline. He was being brought back to his dazed state.
“I feel honored.” She whispered in between her kisses. And she playfully bit his ear after. Damian was startled and grabbed her butt and she gasped.
“Then I will take the lead then.” She whispered alluringly by his ear, as her hands travelled under his shirt. Her braid was completely undone at this point, soft black wavy waist length hair cascading down her head.
FIN.
Bonus Scene:
Garfield and Raven were outside on the yard and they had been talking for hours that the sun had finally begun to set.
“You know, when I woke up, I couldn’t find myself to walk out of my room. Eventually, I was able to overcome it. But I found that it was so difficult to step outside the villa. All I could see was that night and being stabbed, and the last person I saw.” Raven confessed and Garfield placed a hand on hers to comfort her.
“But Damian was there, he guided me and stayed with me as we walked outside.” A small smile on her lips. “I always held him like I was in open water and he was the lifeboat. I was afraid of losing him. I mean, I still am. I still hold him so tightly, because I’m afraid that it would be my last chance with him. I thought I was going to die that night, Gar.”
“But when you offered your hand and held me, after you said you knew of my condition—my fear outside.” She glanced at the open area. “I forgot how afraid I was of going outside. It was like my fears these few months were nothing but a phantom. You were always associated with love and happy memories for me. But you and I both know, Gar, we were imperfect. We were destructive. We had become unhappy together for a very long time.” And she glanced at him fully.
“I want to say goodbye.” She finally said, and Garfield looked at her gently as Raven extended her arms to hug him. “I want to start a new romance—with Damian.” She whispered as they embraced one another.
“I wish you two happiness.” Garfield said as he pulled away.
“Yes, thank you.” She looked back at Damian’s villa. “I was so afraid I would lose him, I still do now, it’s why I always hold him tightly whenever we go outside.” She looked back at the sunset that was facing them.
“I held on because of him—I’m sure it was him, I could feel his hand and hear him every now and then, until all I knew was his presence.” She mumbled mostly to herself.
Alternate (timeline) Ending:
Damian was asleep on the table, and had woken up with a jolt, all teary eyed.
“Damian, what’s wrong?” Raven said as she approached the table.
“I had a dream, you got injured and you were in a coma.” He replied. And he tells her what happened in his dream.
“I had a dream, you got injured and you were in a coma.” He replied as Raven sat down beside him. She gently places a hand on his, as she smiles softly.
“Damian, that did happen.” She replied unhurriedly.
When Damian Al Ghul reached the side of his beloved—Raven. She had exhaled her last breath a long time ago. All he could do now was hold her lifeless blue corpse in his hands. He did not understand and could not comprehend—no, it was simply denial—what has happened to his beloved Raven who was in his arms.
He was kneeling down on the ground, a hand resting on the back of her neck. Her head limp and eyes closed and lips so terribly blue, his other arm under her legs. She had died a long time ago, had he come a minute earlier; nothing would have changed.
Time felt awfully too slow for him at that very moment. And yet, he was so very aware of every breathing, moving thing or person around him. And it made the non-existent breathing and moving of his beloved’s chest so sickeningly deafening in his ears.
His lips opened, and his inhalation was slow. “I want them all dead.” He heard himself say, his head spinning. “No—I want their limbs pulled apart, and I want them to suffer.” He heard himself continue on.
“Yes, my lord.” An assassin in black replied.
The heat from the flames around Damian reached his skin.
For a moment, he thought that maybe the heat would warm the cold body in his arms. He pulled her closer, but she was still freezing. He looked up at the sky, imaging a life without the woman he was cradling. And soft splatters of water fall from the sky.
It was like heaven was agreeing: that a life without her, was not a life worth living.
The rain drops pick up, and it felt like pellets against his skin. The cold from the rain quickly settles against his skin, and a small part of him longed for the heat. And he pulled her tightly against him, trying to protect her from the rain.
“You’re already so cold—no more…” He whispered brokenly; his eyes closed tightly as his back arched to shield her from the rain. But her body was so stiff against his, and it just made his heart ache even more.
Behind Damian was chaos. There were orange flames licking everything, his assassins catching those who aren’t a part of the league. Dead bodies littered all around, some people trapped inside the flames. And there was a lot of screaming. And because the rain was strong, the flames were contained but not enough to put the flames out. And Damian screamed and wept. His screams mixed with the harsh sounds of the rain and the chaos behind him. His tears blending with the painful rainfall against his face.
Eventually the flames were quelled by the rain and the screaming of frightened people disappeared. And even the pellets of water weren’t as painful and strong anymore. In front of Damian, the eerily dark, empty and silent forest seemed to mock him.
He too, stopped grieving. He couldn’t even tell if his throat was hoarse from screaming, or if his eyes burned after weeping so much. All Damian knew was emptiness now.
His assassins were hidden, too afraid to even approach him in such a state. They could see very clearly how broken their lord has become. They could see that he had fully entered into the darkness. This was something they have wanted collectively, and yet they feared the day that it would come—of the change necessary—and here it was.
The day they had feared the most.
A death they feared more of happening then their master’s.
Raven was an existence to them that was almost rather vile. It wasn’t that she was a bad person, it was because she was quite the opposite that they recognized the danger. The implication.
The weakness a Demon’s Head should not be having. And yet, it was also the same reason why they would go out of their way to ensure her safety. They could see clearly the kind of man their lord can be when she is taken off the equation. And they feared that kind of man even more.
Sometimes the assassins of the league would think that there really was no right or wrong between a Damian with or without his Raven. But they are Damian Al Ghul’s underlings, so of course, they would just follow. And since they knew he wanted her safe, following that would be easier than deciding who to fear more.
Him without her, or him with her.
Her clothes were no longer white. Her robes were always so pristinely white, thus she always stood out amongst the assassins with their black garbs. Now, it had the tinge of brown, and there was blood, dirt and rips everywhere, and mud on the parts that touch the ground. The assassins felt awful seeing her in that state. It was simply unfamiliar.
And Damian suddenly stood up. The air around him grew lifeless.
What would their leader do?
“Let’s go.” He said in such an empty tone. His voice is slightly different from what his assassins were used to.
His assassins reappeared around him. “Let’s return to Nanda Parbat.”
When Damian arrived at Nanda Parbat, the assassins who were not with their lord previously, upon seeing their lady’s lifeless corpse, understood the situation quickly. And they found that they were holding back their shivers of fear. Soon, the entire place was filled with lifelessness and trepidation.
“Prepare a basin of water, a wash cloth, sponge and every kind of essential oils we have.” Damian ordered as he continued to walk through his palace. The echoes of his footsteps are very eerie.
“Prepare the best silks we have too.” He added quietly.
He brought Raven into a room. “This was supposed to be my surprise for you.” He mumbled looking at the walls and decorations in the room. “I painstakingly prepared everything for you.” He mumbled, setting her down gently on the bed. He kneels by her side, holding her hand and resting it on his forehead. And he wept silently.
Her fingers were so stiff and cold against his skin. And it made his heart ache again.
Soon his subjects placed all that he asked for in the room. They did not say a thing about their own master kneeling on the floor by the side of his dead lover. And they quietly left just like how they entered– in complete silence.
Minutes passed before he pulled away from her lifeless body. His heart ached as he tried to remove her clothes off of her. He was so careful, he had to be. He was so afraid he’d hurt her more. And when all the dirty clothes were off her, his eyes twitched at the bruises and wounds all over her body.
He couldn’t save her.
Silent tears fell from his eyes as his shaking hands reached out for the sponge and water with some lavender oils. He gently cleaned her with the sponge and dried her skin with the washcloth. And with all the dirt and blood off of her body, he could see even more clearly all the wounds and bruises.
He was late—too late.
But as he cleaned her, he had made up his mind. He has resources.
“You might hate me for this. But I am willing to take the consequences.” He slipped in a white silk dress on her. And he picks her up, his eyes full of resolve.
The next thing Damian knew was the brown walls of the cavern illuminated by torches. And the green liquid of the pool in front of him. He was very familiar with this place. He could hear the sound of the flickering torches around him, and the sound of breathing from his own lips.
The woman in his arms, must have been dead for a few hours now. The pool looked very inviting, despite its disgusting color.
“There have been a few people that the Lazarus Pit revived—and the consequences, my beloved, I am willing to take.” He stroked her cold cheek. “Forgive me.” His apology was simply lip service. He actually didn’t care if he would hate her. He wouldn’t care if she would not be the same.
A life without her—was really—a life he was not willing to live.
As long as her heart was beating, and there was breath in her lungs, then everything was worth it.
He kissed her forehead gently and then looked at the Lazarus Pit. His eyes were cold and determined. He took a step near the pit and continued on. His hold on her was gentle, her head resting on his shoulder. Soon the water was around his waist and he lowered her. He waited for a moment, his heart aching at having to fully submerge his beloved into the green liquid, but he cannot hesitate now.
Damian kneeled and so Raven was submerged under the water, his head above the water.
He waited and waited. And it felt so long that it hurt.
She had already died because he was too late and here he was drowning her dead body. It felt like he was killing her ten times over. But he closed his eyes, his jaw clenched tightly.
And finally, he felt her twitch against him and arms wrapped around him. He quickly pulled her up by standing up. There was a lot of screaming from her, her entire eyes black.
“Raven! Raven!” He called out but she kept screaming. “It’s me!” And he felt a sting on his left shoulder. She had bit him hard, he was bleeding.
“It’s me.” He coaxed her as he patted her head. “It’s me.” He hugged her and she whimpered, teeth still on his shoulder.
“My Lord!” It was the familiar voice of a woman he had become friends with when he was twelve. The worry in her voice was so unlike her. He turned around, and for the first time, her face was not frozen in the expression that he was used to—indifference. Her facial expression matched the tone of her voice.
It was so clear on her face and in her tone, the fear and the pain she felt.
And when her eyes landed on Raven whose teeth were still on his shoulder, her body winced. She gulped down her messy thoughts. And suddenly fell to her knees.
“I should have been there!” She said her head casted down.
“Raven is perfectly fine.” Damian replied, and the woman before him, who was his shadow, his right hand—among other things, just clenched her fist silently.
“I should have been summoned back. I should have gone back.” She made her mind up. She shouldn’t have waited for a summon.
“Everything is alright. Raven is fine.” He caressed his lover’s black hair. “You had a mission to complete. And my Raven– my beloved Raven is completely safe.” Damian insisted as he continued to caress the hair of the woman in his arms who had growled at him like an animal.
“We will be alright.” Damian finally said as he walked out from the waters of the pit. The lady outside the pool silently kneeled with clenched eyes and fists.
Raven was never the same, but Damian welcomed the change with open arms. After all, she was still breathing and alive.
‘There she was again at the foot of her bed, in her room in the Titans Tower—weeping. It was like she was grieving. But knowing her—she probably was.’ He stood unmoving.
Raven’s head was buried into her hands as she cried.
This again. How many times has Damian seen Raven like this? How many times had he come and comforted her?
Raven noticed someone’s presence inside her room. And there was only one person who would come into her room in the state that she was in.
Damian Wayne.
Damian Wayne is the leader of the Teen Titans at the age of nineteen. And Raven has been a member of said group for seven years. And at twenty-one she has been one of the longest active team members, alongside Garfield or also known as, Beast Boy.
‘Garfield. It has to be him again.’ Damian thought bitterly. And how many times has he comforted her over him?
“Damian?” Raven calls out in a broken sob as she wipes her tears and glance to her left side to find him. When she met his blank gaze, she couldn’t help but give a faint smile and cried again.
“We broke up again.” She cried into her hands again. In response to her words, Damian just clench and unclench his right fist. Of course, Raven would not feel the turmoil he was feeling and had not seen his reaction. She always failed to notice him.
“And what? This if for the nthtime. Am I supposed to be surprised?” Damian said in a rather cold voice laced with something else. Raven stopped crying and stared at him– and he regretted his tone. She looks so broken and hurt, he wanted to undo how he had said his words. But the thing was—he meant it.
“You don’t understand.” Her voice comes out so weak that his heart sunk. “This time—” Raven’s eyes widened a bit. “This time—it’s for real. No more do-overs. No more makeups. This time—” Raven starts to hyperventilate. “This time we’re really done.”
And saying the words aloud—despite it not actually being loud—just vocalizing it, made Raven realize how true the situation really is. Only a tear slipped down her left eye as she sat there frozen and very unmoving.
This time it’s for real.
How many times had he heard that–was he supposed to believe it? But seeing her empty gaze and unmoving body—he knew—that this really was for real.
‘Until that ‘for real’ becomes another lie.’ Damian’s mind couldn’t help but whisper to his heart.
“He says his leaving the team— his going to join Young Justice.” Damian was surprised to hear this as the information has not gotten to him yet. “He told me not to follow him—because this really is the end of the line for him and I.” She pressed her lips together.
“Raven.” He calls out to her as he approaches her slowly. Her eyes flickers to meet his gaze and as she did so, silent tears fell from her eyes again. “Maybe that is a good thing.”
And Raven did not take it well. What did Damian mean? Her tears fell faster as she broke into a sob, she covers her mouth with her right hand.
“Raven.” He calls her again, as he sits beside her and touches her left hand with his right hand. “This could be a good thing. You can finally let someone take care of you the way you deserve.”
This wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Of all the times Damian had comforted her over her numerous break-ups with Garfield he had never—ever—said such a thing to her. And she felt as though he had punched her, she wept loudly in response.
Damian sighs and hesitates to hug her, but eventually was able to wrap his arms around her shaking form. It was not the tightest hug one could give, but it was all that he could muster to give to her.
“I love him, Damian.” She wept as she gave him a tighter hug than he was giving her. Damian flinched at the words she spoke, but of course, Raven failed to feel it.
Love? Damian wanted to snicker.
“Have I not tried everything to please him? Where have I failed?” She pulls away from his hug, the distance between their faces were only a mere two feet away. Her hands were on Damian’s chest as she looks up at him. “Am I not enough?” She sobs as he furrows his brows.
Not enough? He felt the anger that he had buried a long time ago shimmer from very deep within him.
“Is my love not enough? Is this why he never chooses me? Didn’t I try everything to please him? Do I not deserve love? Is this why I’m always—just—I’m never chosen?” She rants as her left hand wrapped around Damian and her forehead rested on the back of her right hand that was on Damian’s chest. And Raven continues to cry.
“You call this love?” He whispered unexpectedly. And when Raven pulled away to look at him with confusion on her face—Damian understood that he had spoken his thoughts aloud. He can’t take it back now. He looks down at her, mirroring her confusion.
“How can you call this love?” He says in such a low voice with plain disbelief and confusion. “How many times have you cried over Garfield? How many times have you said you two will never get back together—and yet somehow you get back together—despite how many times he has hurt you. But you hurt him too—but still—the pain you two inflict on each other—when will it be enough?”
Raven felt like he had dumped cold water on her and as Damian looked at her expression– even, he had felt that he had dumped cold water on her.
His mouth quivers as he contemplates whether he should take it back–of how he should take it back. But he had meant every single word. Raven’s face was ashen from his words. She took in three deep breathes.
“How could you say that?” It came out barely as a whisper and her grief over her break up had become forgotten. She wipes the tears off of her face, as she completely pulled away from Damian by standing up.
“How could I?” He asked with a broken laugh after as he stood up. “How could you not? How many times have you two broken up in the span that I have been part of the team? Let’s not even count before I even became part of the team! How can you—” A pause. “You two—not respect one another enough to just call it quits the first time—or maybe by the third time of your break ups. Why would you—you two—drag out this pain for all these years?” Damian’s voice had a hint of suppressed tension in it. And Raven laughed at his rant, but the laughter sounded so resigned that Damian’s heart couldn’t help but flinch. She had looked away from him as she laughed.
“Of course, you wouldn’t understand how I feel!” Raven pauses from laughing to stare at his green eyes coldly. “I can’t believe that I had thought you understood me—I can’t believe I expected you to understand!” Another fit of broken laugher. Damian clenched his fist at her words. The distain she had for Damian—he felt. And yet she still did not see his feelings– she still did not feel his feelings.
“I knew him for seven years Damian! Seven bloody years! And I love him. I love him so, so much.” And Raven could not help but start to cry again. “I love him for seven years.”
“Time does not guarantee that you are meant to be with someone.” Damian said it so simply and when the words fell on Raven’s ears—she froze.
“Why are you doing this?” She whispers not expecting an answer, as she simply had just spoken what was in her mind. She really did not expect this from Damian.
“Just because you know someone for a long time and love them just as long—it doesn’t mean you could not love someone with the same intensity even when you just met!” He continues on, and Raven wanted to scream to him and ask why he was continuing on.
Why was he doing this?
“Get. Out.” Raven heard herself say, it came out softly and with no weight to it. Damian looks at her with evasive eyes. “Get Out.” She says a bit more firmly to which Damian stands unmoving with furrowed brows.
He seems like he wanted to tell her more. But Raven did not allow him to.
“Get Out! I said get out!” She yelled. Damian glares at her with his jaw clenched and hands in a fist. She tried to match his anger as she glares back. Damian concedes and leaves quietly out of her bedroom. Before the door was fully closed, he hears Raven fall on her knees and wept again, muttering something he couldn’t quite catch.
“I love him for seven years…”
~.~.~.~.~
Damian was in the gym room of the Titan Tower. He was punching a sandbox with wrapped hands. He had been at it for a few days—in fact since his first failure in comforting Raven over her break up. He had tried to be unbiased, but everyone had a tipping point. And Damian Wayne simply hit his on the matter.
Even so, he tried to act accordingly as the leader of the Titans. He had started comforting Raven in the pretense of his obligation as the team leader. But maybe it wasn’t a pretense—and if so—when had it start becoming a pretense?
Raven and Garfield appeared to be as civil as they could around each other. And finally, Garfield had talked to Damian about leaving the team. Something about moving up the ladder. And God hearing that made Damian want to punch the man.
What did that entail ‘moving up the ladder’? Did Raven not fit Garfield’s desire—is that why they broke up this time around? She wasn’t too high up that ladder? But Damian never voiced out the thoughts that invaded him as he heard Garfield say what he did.
In fact, Damian try not to comment about Raven and Garfield’s relationship, or lack thereof, just as he always had. But the same could be said with anyone else. He tried to be as much of a team leader as needed be—and he did not—absolutelydid not mention their personal romantic relationships with one another unless it was to remind them that he does not wish for it to affect the group dynamic. And maybe that was what led him to comfort Raven the first time around.
Damian valued the team dynamic too much just for a couple to ruin it.
After Raven kicked Damian out over what hopefully was the last break-up of Garfield and Raven, Damian went out of his way to avoid Raven in the most casual and indifferent way of his. It almost bordered to normalcy.
“Damian.” A familiar voice calls out to him, but he did not hear it as he was focused on his punches.
“Damian.” He paused. Damian steadies his sandbag and turned to look behind him with furrowed brows.
“Raven.” He greets simply and was about to continue punching the sandbag again. But she calls out to him again and he sighs.
“What is it?” He asks indifferently, his hands on the sandbag, keeping up the appearance of steading it.
“I’d like to apologize.” He raises an eyebrow, shook his head and mock punch the sandbag, it swings a bit.
“You don’t have to—” He steadies the sandbag. “I should be the one apologizing.” His eyes do not look at her though.
“I suppose.” She said quietly after what felt like a minute had passed in silence. “But you made a good point.” He stiffly nods, the apology he has been meaning to say was at the tip of his tongue. Another minute passes in silence.
“I know your looking out for the team. Thank You.” She says quietly, waiting for Damian to respond but he just nods again. Another minute of silence.
“I—I think I will take your advice—” Advice. She had called it advice; Damian’s eyes look up at her. He was surprise to see her violet eyes look at him intently with patience. “I—I should move one—close that part of my life. Start a new book.” Damian’s eye twitched in surprise. The apology his been meaning to say still in his mouth.
She smiles at him and she nods and then did a 180 turn on her heel.
“I’m sorry.” He finally said but it was only a whisper his right knuckles against the sandbag, as his eyes follow her back. For a moment he thought she froze on the spot, but she continued to walk away.
‘No. She had heard. But she did not give me a hard time over it.’ Damian thought as a faint smile found itself on his lips.
~.~.~.~.~
‘Why was I back in this situation again? Had she not said that it was over for real then? I guess today is the day it finally became a lie.’ Damian was standing as if he had seen a ghost.
Last time he was here—she was twenty-one. Now he was the twenty-one-year-old and she is twenty-three. Two years had passed since the last time he was in this situation—in her room—watching her cry herself raw on her bed.
And yet Damian knew—it has to be about himagain.
Garfield.
His eye twitched at the thought. An empty smile on his lips as he looked at Raven sob.
‘Didn’t you say it was over—so what is this.’ The words never came out of Damian’s lips, but it almost had. But she felt his intentions. And if Damian had known that his thought had been conveyed to her through his emotions—then maybe he’d think: for the first time she noticed myfeelings.
Raven noticed that Damian had entered her room—how could she not with what he was emitting. It has been so long since the two were in this situation. It has been two years. And she felt guilty—because the last time he had comforted her in here—she said her and Garfield were really done.
And here she is—a proof of a lie.
“I—” Raven tries to muffle her cry but fails. “Him and I—we hooked up.” And to Damian those words were crushing but not as crushing as what the word ‘hooked up’ entailed. Was she—she couldn’t be— “And so we secretly dated after that.” Damian couldn’t help but sigh when he heard her say that.
It wasn’t as bad as the thought of Raven being pregnant. He thought that he must be an awful person for thinking such a thing.
“But then… does that mean—” Damian looked at Raven in confusion, piecing something together. How long has she been lying?
“For almost a year.” She softly sobbed as she wiped a tear away. Damian felt like he had been punched. A year. He had been trying to make her happy for two—but that one year—that half time he placed in effort, even when it was masked mostly as group activities—was happiness that Damian was not able to give her—but Garfield had.
And Damian simply saw the truth of the matter, the recent year when Raven seemed even more happier than the last—it was not because of him. He should have known. No—he must have noticed—Ah. That is right. He had seen the signs but choose to ignore it.
“Isn’t he with that girl named Terra?” Damian asked softly quite blindsided by the truth. Raven nods in response and he felt that same old anger he had not felt since that time two years ago—in this room, seeing her nod. An anger that had been buried had been reignited yet again.
“But they had taken a break when Garfield and I got back together.” She quickly added before he could say something. And oddly enough that subsided a bit of Damian’s anger. “It was just a hook up, no attachment. He was upset and hurt and I was lonely—and we knew each other well.” Raven had stopped crying at this point and was picking on her fingertips looking for hangnails with burrowed brows.
“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything—”
“But the love you had for him was reignited, right?” Damian couldn’t help but cut her off with a bite in his tone. And he chuckled—it was empty and shallow. “So, what is it this time? Am I supposed to be surprised you broke up again? Well this isn’t the first break up you two had—and last time surely wasn’t the last!” A hollow laugh came from Damian as he ran his hand through his hair.
“God, how stupid!” And Raven stood up to glare at him.
“How can you call me stupid! I loved him whole-heartedly for seven years and continued to love him for two more—you don’t forget that. Even when its muddled—it’s a fact that I have loved him for so long and invested so much into him—into me—for him and me– us. And even when we broke up—I will always love him. He will always have a special place in my heart.” Raven pauses. “Even when he broke up with me now—because he realized he loves Terra.” She bites her lip and Damian looks at her like she was the stupidest person on earth.
Damian suddenly laughs, it was a rather wholehearted laughter and yet it held such muted grief.
“You think I called you stupid?” He looks at her in the eyes, and something about his stare hinted to a degree of insanity. “You actually think I called you stupid?” He shakes his head with a faint smile on his lips as he glances at the space beside her. “I’m the one who’s stupid!” Raven took a step back in confusion, she studies Damian with a knot in her chest—she thought that Damian looked a little mad.
“I like you! For the longest time, I have liked you!” Raven looked at him as if he had grown an extra head. “I might even actually love you—but what do I know—after all—you said it yourself: I don’t know what that is like!” Raven looks at him thinking when had she said that, and she realized it must have been the last time they were in this room together when he was comforting her. She had opened her lips to tell her that: that was not what she had meant, but Damian continues.
“But you never noticed my feelings for you! I was just a fly in comparison to Garfield. Maybe if I wasn’t three years younger than you—then maybe you might take me seriously! Or maybe if I had known you first than Garfield—then maybe you would actually look my way!” Damian’s stare had started to become a hateful glare. “You know when you two broke up for reals–” He says mockingly. “I thought that maybe—maybe—this was it. This was my chance to get you to notice that I had liked you for the longest time. Maybe this was the moment you would let Garfield go and let someone else show you—just how much you deserved to be treated. How special you are to that one person—how important you are to at least one person.” Damian’s angry glare softens into resignation.
“It didn’t have to be me. It could be anyone.” A pause. “That is fine. I don’t think I deserve that kind of special someone to dote on—and love me.” He pauses again, but Raven didn’t know what to say as he looked down on the floor. “But I wanted you—” He looks back at her again with mournful eyes. “I wanted at least for you, to be happy. I wanted to know that all the years you spent crying over some stupid guy over a stupid little thing because of a stupid relationship—is happy beyond belief. I wanted that for you.” He pressed his lips together as he shook his head and evade her shock eyes.
And then the silence allowed the two to think of what had just happened. It gave Damian the time to really process what was happening—what he had said and he was shocked at what he had done.
No.
He had just confessed to her.
No.
He looks up at her with a shocked expression, his eyes so wide in realization. He had said aloud the thoughts that have been plaguing him for years, the glimpse of how his thought process has changed as Raven’s relationship with Garfield became a bane of his existence—of what he thought was also her’s and Garfield’s.
Damian’s face pales, wishing he could take back what he had just said and done. The secrets and frustration he had held in was finally said. And it sat between them rather heavily.
“I—” They had spoken at the same time and a pause followed. Damian stared at Raven, unsure who had spoken—was it her or him. Before anything else could be said and done, Damian stormed off with his fist clenched and with long strides close to a dash.
Damian had been punching the sandbag aggressively for almost two hours now following his confession. He was embarrassed and frustrated. And thinking of so many ways to take back what he had said and done. Prior to those thoughts, he had evaluated how he could have handled the situation better.
Damian gave the sandbag a very powerful right punch that the poor weakened sandbag gave in to the hit. His fist was inside the sandbag and as he was about to pull his fist out, the sand spilling out from the hole, he hears Raven calling his name. He turns to his left to look at her with furrowed brows, and her eyes shifts from him and the sand pouring out from the sandbag, her expression worried.
Raven had been calling out for Damian a few times before he had noticed her. If Damian knew he would be greatly disappointed with himself.
“Damian…” She started, her eyes at Damian’s fist that was still half inside the sandbag.
“Look—forget what I had said. I said it to distract you. I did it as my obligation as the team leader.” He says coldly as he fully retracts his fist from the sandbag, more sand pouring out from his action. He looks away from her as he checks his fists in front of him for damage. He was surprised to see that his fist was bruised and bleeding a little. His right hand getting the most damage.
“No.” Raven said as she took a step forward, he turns his head at her with a glare. Raven does not back down. “We need to talk about this.”
Damian was contemplating how to bolt from this situation and Raven could tell his intentions. So, before Damian could act about his thoughts, she grabbed his fists. He flinches.
“Seriously, we can’t have our leader’s fists injured.” She says as she checks his injuries up close, turning his fists in her hands, taking her time. He was quiet but his jaw was clenched and brows so closely knit to each other.
“I—” Raven looks up at him straight into his eyes, Damian is startled as his eyes met hers. “I had noticed your feelings before.” She softly confessed and Damian’s fists clenched, before he could yank his hands away from hers— Raven firmly held his hands in hers. “I had noticed.” Her expression seemed to have glazed over and she sighed aloud and dispelled her thoughts.
“I had noticed. But it became overlooked as I was more focus on—other things—” And for a moment her eyes glazed over again. “On Gar.” A sad smile on her lips.
“His love overshadowed your little crush on me. I—focused on him and me so much that anything else was just white noise. I forgot that you had a crush—it was just an afterthought that was forgotten.” To Raven, Damian looked as though he wanted to yank his hands off of hers and storm off, but with a clenched jaw he fought not to. “And I am truly sorry.” She says as she heals his hands.
Raven licks her lips and pressed it together but her eyes looking at the ground, “And—yes—our age had been a factor – why I didn’t take you seriously. There was one time that I considered the possibility of dating you. And our age gap–” Raven made a displeased face. “bothered me. And three years, I know it isn’t much,” She glances at Damian. “But it’s undeniable that at some point I was of legal age and you weren’t. And that—that unsettles me. But mostly—it’s because of my love for Garfield– that made me always overlook your crush. And—I really am sorry.”
Raven was looking at Damian with wavering eyes, she felt guilty, but she was also very sincere on her apology.
‘This,’She thought. ‘is the final push I needed to really move on from Gar.’ As she lets go of Damian’s hands.
“I hope, everything said and done today—doesn’t affect our relationship—in fact I hope it clarified the things between us.” Raven says dispelling the guilt she had. “You are a great leader Damian, you always think of everyone, and I guess that is why you never said or did anything that could be permanently damaging to the team.”
With that Damian buried the thoughts that he was having, like did he have a chance to be with her now? No—Raven is right—he couldn’t risk the team dynamic.
‘It’s probably why you never attempted to confess to me—to not add to the mess that was Garfield and me.’ Raven had mulled over.
~.~.~.~.~
Three months after Damian’s sudden confession, Raven took the initiative to go to Damian who was in his bedroom.
It was rather late at night but she had made a decision already and wanted to tell Damian at this very moment. The room was rather dark but they were both used to it, their eyes adjusted well or maybe even better at dark.
After Damian’s confession, their relationship was rather strained– how could it not be with such a revelation? But the two worked hard to flatten out the strain and finally they were in a position that was back to normal but never quite the same. But it was perfect—in the oddest way—it was perfect and they were contented.
“Damian, I know it’s late…” Raven rubs her left elbow with her right hand. “But with everything that has happened—I know I have to tell you this now.”
Hearing this Damian was worried. “Please Raven, continue.” He says as he pats the space beside him, on his bed. But she shakes her head in rejection and she avoids his gaze. He understood that the words she was going to say were difficult on her part, and he waited patiently. He quietly observes her as she chewed on her lips and finally sighed.
“I’m planning to leave.” The oxygen in Damian’s room felt like it wasn’t enough for him to breath. And Raven instantly became worried seeing him in a mix of shock and fear. She approached him cautiously, her hand extended towards him. Raven was two steps away from Damian when he suddenly shot up to his feet and she froze as she studies him.
Damian was ashen, his jaw clenched and his fists flexing, but his eyes that was on her—seemed to go through her and in his green eyes she saw him shredding his initial reaction into oblivion. He closes his eyes tightly and took a deep breath and when he exhaled, that was when Raven found herself unfrozen and had touched Damian’s arm. She looks up at him, a fear in the base of her throat that felt like it was going to burst, but he only glances at her in confusion.
“I don’t plan to leave now—I was just making you aware that I will—maybe in a few months.” She blurts out in order to speak before Damian could. “I think it’s for the best—it’s still kind of hard to see Garfield. Especially now—no maybe particularly now—because I really want to move on from him.”
“He will always affect you.” Damian whispered with the smallest hint of resignation. And before Raven could acknowledge it, he adds, “It can’t be helped, our team and Young Justice cross paths now and then—and recently it seems to be more frequent.” His tone was that of a firm leader that Raven completely forgot his previous remark.
“Yes, that is exactly it.” She softly agreed. In the silence that followed she realized that she was still resting her palm on Damian’s arm, she pulls away quickly and looks away from his general direction.
“I’m not planning to leave anytime soon—so you really don’t have to worry about my replacement yet.” She says jokingly but he only quietly nods as he observes her.
Not even a week after Raven’s revelation of leaving due to the difficulty of seeing Garfield, the three found themselves in a room in the Titan Tower. Damian was standing in front of Garfield while Raven stood by Damian’s left side with her arms crossed over her chest. A rather strained triangle was formed between the three.
“We need your help on this Damian, I’m here to try and convince you.” Garfield says. Damian taking notes on Raven from the corner of his eyes. She looked as neutral as she could, but he knew that she must be having difficulties seeing him so soon— with Garfield acting as though him and her were not a thing a few months ago.
“I don’t think I need the convincing, Garfield. If it’s an order from the league I cannot say no to it.” Damian simply responses.
“Well, that is true, but I guess I am here for formalities sake.” He replied but his eyes glance at Raven, who had caught his eyes and so did Damian.
“Raven is my right hand, and she had been in the team the longest. We will discuss how we can best assist and inform our team.” Damian firmly decided, Raven nods her head, arms still crossed.
“Oh—well—” Garfield glances at Raven then Damian, “I thought maybe I could—"
“We need to discuss how best to help as soon and as quickly as possible.” Damian cuts in, and Raven nods again silently. Garfield at this point is blatantly looking at Raven. He had intended to try and talk to her, but it seems that she did not want to.
“I—” Garfield had begun to say.
“We will contact you Gar.” Raven quietly says before Garfield could say anything else.
Maybe she did want to talk to him, it’s just that they were more focus on the mission and intel he had just provided. Garfield thought as he nodded absent-mindedly.
Damian turns to leave and Raven follows before the conversation between the three could be dragged out by Garfield.
Damian walked quickly to his room and Raven followed absent-mindedly. When they arrived in Damian’s room, Raven just stood in the center blankly. Damian clears his throat.
“I know this isn’t the best place to bring you in—” She hears him say and glances at her surroundings, realizing where she was. “But you don’t have to participate if you don’t want to.” Raven simply shakes her head.
“No. I am a part of this team; I am just as responsible as you are Damian.” And he knew her well enough to know that Raven had made up her mind, and that she will not change her mind. If only he had known then, what would happen in the mission– because he had allowed her to go, then maybe things would be different for him and her.
“I know you wanted to leave because of Garfield—and this happens—if you ever want to leave this mission half-way, I totally understand.” Raven looks at him with a gentle gaze, glad for Damian’s thoughtfulness. But this was work, she should be able to do this mission. And maybe—this should be the last. And she nods as her respond to his offer, little did Damian know Raven was thinking of having this as her last mission as a Titan.
A good way to end a bad relationship she supposed—working one last time with an ex she was trying to avoid.
“I need to call in for a team meeting.” Damian sighs while shaking his head and putting a hand on his forehead. And she smiled faintly at him, but her mind steering back to a green skinned boy, she still knew she loved.
~.~.~.~.~
Damian did not expect things to turn out like this. They were pushed in a corner, the creature facing his direction trying to spot anyone on his side. Tim was somewhere behind the creature tending to a team member who had fallen. Damian was unsure if Tim was tending a Titan or a member of the young justice team from his hiding place behind a car.
Terra attacks the albino twenty-foot creature. And Raven who was on the far side of Damian’s general left area, hears Terra’s battle cry. The next thing Raven knew was a knot in her heart as she heard Garfield who was in vulture form, screaming Terra’s name.
Raven instantly stood up from her hiding place and ran to the center still very far from Damian. She sees Terra’s body being flung to her general direction, Raven caught her by putting a shield around Terra and slowing and protecting her from a dangerous fall. But the act left Raven extremely vulnerable.
Garfield had landed near Damian and shifted back into human form. Raven’s eye caught the black eyes of the creature—if you can call them eyes. And she realized what it was about to do, she placed a force field around herself quickly as she reprimanded herself for her stupid move of going out of her hiding place to help Terra out. She knew completely that her decision was impaired due to Garfield screaming Terra’s name with such fear. She hated herself for being affected by it.
Suddenly—it was quiet. Raven’s face twisted into confusion. The shield around her was up, so why did she feel the blood drain from her? She felt rather weak. She heard Garfield screaming her name—she couldn’t help but smile. Thinking that Garfield could still scream her name the way he did when he screamed Terra’s—was oddly comforting. She turns to look at her left where Damian and Garfield were, confused as she could hear another male call her name.
Raven’s eyes landed on Damian’s face, a contortion of shock and fear and maybe five other more emotions that she could not quite place. He was screaming her name, looking as though any moment now he would run to her. And she was even more confused. She turns back to look at the creature, but her gaze was casted down and that was when she noticed what had happened.
Yes, her shield was up. But there was a black spike that passed through her shield. No—it wasn’t that it passed through, it seemed that her shield allowed it to—or to be exact her shield couldn’t close onto the black spike. She followed where the spike ends after passing her shield, and she was in a state of serenity to see that it hit her– just below her sternum.
The mix of screams from Damian and Garfield was something she tried to focus her mind on.
Her shield dissipates as she found herself coughing blood, and the black single spike on her chest retracted. She stared at the creature blankly as the spike entered its palm. Raven slowly dropped to her knees; her brows furrowed. She could not think straight.
They were still screaming her name. She turned hear head, initially planning to look at Garfield, finding it so very odd to hear him call out her name the way he was. She never knew that he would be worried about him like that after everything they had been through. But yet again, when she turned her head to the left, as her body tilted back—it was Damian who her eyes laid on.
And her eyes widened as she realized the truth. She could only hear Damian’s screaming now—but she was aware that Garfield was screaming her name too because he was in clear view from where she now laid. But her eyes focus on Damian.
For the first time she had seen and feel Damian in the most fearful version he could be. She could just feel him telling her not to give in. But her eyes were droopy. She felt tired.
And for the first time she truly felt his feelings for her. The rawness—the intensity. How could she have missed it?
Raven tried to extend her hand to Damian, feeling rather guilty—and hoping she was at least able to convey her apology though the act. But it was so very difficult to keep her eyes open.
‘I should have known.’ Raven thought as she tried to keep herself conscious. ’I shouldn’t have taken you for granted. I should have given you the chance—I should have taken the chance sooner to move on from a relationship that did me no good.’ Raven thought she saw Damian running towards her—but maybe it was just an illusion.
‘If there is some other life—I wish to give you a chance. I wish to be happy with you.’
And her eyes fluttered shut. Raven was unsure if she indeed felt her body being lifted up from the ground. But Damian held her gently in his arms. As he glared at the creature’s back who was currently distracted by Tim on the other side.
‘I should have seen and felt you. I am a pathetic empath for missing such an important thing. It was clearly so obvious—and clearly in front of me. You do love me Damian, I wish I could tell you that. You had loved me for the longest time—and I did not notice.
It’s pure and true—it is still love; The love I have been wanting— I’m glad I got it from you.’
Damian Al Ghul for a moment was a hero. And in that time that he was a hero, naturally he would meet other heroes.
That was how he met her.
His Raven.
He would describe her as a very graceful woman. She was quiet, kind, generous and lovely. Despite her name sounding as if it should belong to a lonely person or an unkind being, she was none of these. But her name did befit her origins. In the sense that she is the daughter of a being synonymous to satan; and of intergalactic alien origin, the conqueror of worlds. Therefore, the name Raven as ominous as it was, befit her well, and yet also– not so well.
But that was the thing, he was only a hero for only a moment. That moment was all that mattered, since—after all, that was how he met her. As she continued on her heroic path, he returned to what he knew to be right as a child, the path of darkness.
He took upon himself, the name Al Ghul, a name synonymous to a demon, and he used it well. And thus, Damian Al Ghul was reborn anew, he became the Demon’s Head. The name became associated to a cruel, cruel man. But he changed the ways of his organization, and tread very, very strictly on a grey line. And in doing so, he keeps his Raven. And remember it well and do not forget, he only stays on that grey line to keep her by his side.
And if anything were to happen to his beloved Raven, he will cross to the darkness before one could even blink his own eyes, and will burn everything and anything in his path with his bare hands.
So, make no mistake by taking his Raven away or you will live a life even more painful than death. For Damian Al Ghul has a league of assassin as his army, who are extremely loyal to him. And him alone.
Killing for him was as easy as dropping a needle on a hay stack.
Damian Al Ghul, the leader of the league of assassins, stood inside his throne room made of beautiful marble in ivory and gold. The sun high up in the sky, its light entering the space so blindingly. The sunlight weaves through the pillars and mashrabiya* leaving beautiful intricate patterns on the marble floors. The sunlight helped give an illusion of brightness and happiness and warmth to the chamber.
Damian was facing his throne, his back against the door as he read the papers he was holding with his right hand. His left hand resting against his back, atop his green cape. He was wearing his black with gold uniform and armor with a green cape in contrast to the almost white room. And with his cold facial expression one would be reminded, that all the sunlight was giving after all, was just an illusion of warmth.
Damian Al Ghul was not kind at all. But of course, there is an exception to the rule.
The door suddenly opened with a burst and a loud bang, and Damian’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. He had strictly told them that he shouldn’t be disturbed unless necessary. He coaxed himself thinking that it had to be an emergency. With narrowed eyes he tilts his head a bit to the left to acknowledge the presence of the intruder.
“My Lord!” A man in an all-black suit says hurriedly as he kneels on the floor with a thud. His left leg against the floor while the other propped up to let his right arm rest on top. His head bent toward the floor.
“What is it that you have to report?” His enunciation of every word unhurried and heavy. Damian could hear the gulp from his poor frightened little underling. Even if said underling was twenty meters away.
“It’s—it’s the Lady.” The poor man could barely say. And even though the sun was high up in the sky, and that it’s light shone brightly in the room, making the chamber look as if it was glittering, it became cold. So cold, that both people seemed frozen in place, but the poor underling was the one fighting his shivers.
“What about the Lady?” Damian asked a little too clearly, that the poor subordinate could only kneel on both knees, bend his body and rested his forehead against his hands that was now on the floor. At this point, Damian turned slowly, as his green eyes landed on the man in black.
“What about the Lady?” He repeated even more slowly than the last. And Damian saw his assassin shiver in fear.
“She-she has been missing for a few days, and we searched for her—but—but—she is nowhere to be found.” He reported as calmly as he could. The subordinate thought the room couldn’t possibly get any colder than it already was, but he was wrong. The moment he finished his report, he was kneeling there in pure horror, he was sure he will die today.
“It seems that my league of assassin who are supposed to be like a shadow, cannot protect their lady in the shadow.” It was spoken slowly that it was certain: that this was the calm before the storm. “It seems that my league of assassins lack training.” He concluded.
“You cannot even track down your lost lady, why do I even keep any of you!” Damian’s voice echoed through the chambers; his fury clear. And yet, anyone who knew their lord, would know that was not the full extent of his anger.
No, it really wasn’t.
“Lady Shiva!” He summoned and instantly a woman with black hair up to her neck in red appeared beside the kneeling assassin.
“It seems that you have been lax in training the league.” He tells her and as she bends her torso to bow. Before she could start with her apologies, he continued on. “Prepare the top ten men in the league, and have them follow me. We will look for the lady.” He started walking down his throne.
“No, in fact, I will be looking for her. And if you so choose to have people follow me then so be it.” He said when his eyes landed on Lady Shiva as he approached them, the assassin up on his feet, his head bent low as to be respectful to their Lord.
“When I find Raven, I hope my league’s errors would be corrected. But that would be wishful thinking, won’t it, Lady Shiva? I will personally see to their training when I return.” Lady Shiva and the assassin gave way to their Lord.
“Of course, my Lord.” She mutters as he completely disappears.
~.~.~.~.~
Damian held a woman in blood stained and dirt-filled white robes on his arms. Her face had cuts and bruises and she looked so weak and small against his shoulder. When he looks down at her injured face, there was a softness in his glance. A gentleness unbefitting of the Demon’s Head.
But as gentle as he was as he held her, the scene behind him was not. Orange flames flickered as he walks out from the heat and the building calmly.
“I want anyone who is even remotely related to this tracked down, and I want them tortured.” He said so calmly as he held the woman he loves in his arms. His gentle glance has become cold as he looks at his subordinates in front of him. The crunch of green grass under his feet as he continued on into the night that was illuminated by the orange flames behind him.
“If done well enough, then maybe I won’t be so strict when I train you all. Prove that you all aren’t so useless after all.” His tone stone cold.
The gentleness from before must have been an illusion. Because this was the Damian Al Ghul, they all love, respected and oh-so-feared.
“Of course, my Lord.” One replied with a bow.
“No.” They pause as they wait for Damian’s final instructions. “Keep the master mind alone, I would love to capture and torture them myself.” And the shadows that was surrounding him disappeared. Raven stirred in his arms, against his chest.
“Damian?” She called out weakly. And he stood frozen as he took a peek eagerly at the woman in his arms. “They didn’t know.” She mumbles and he couldn’t help but narrow his eyes on her. She means that it wasn’t the Justice League’s fault.
“They didn’t know it was going to be a trap.” She tried to keep her head a float.
“And look at the price you had to pay.” He said bitterly as he sneered a little and continued walking to the jet.
“I—” She couldn’t even say anything to defend the Justice League, because she felt the turmoil in Damian. How could she defend the Justice League knowing what he was feeling?
“I didn’t mind that you wanted to continue being a hero. I would not take that from you.” He sets her down inside the jet. “And I know that you know this to be true, I only stay in between good and bad for you. If you are taken out of the equation, I have no qualms in being the Demon’s Head, in its truest sense. But you choose to love me, despite of who I am. And I will not have any one harm you. Less others think that the Demon’s head is weak.”
“You are not a bad person, my love.” She replied, as she cups his cheek. He closes his eye and places a hand over hers. He opens his eyes and meets her violets irises.
“But I can be, if I am without you.” He whispered so gently as his forehead laid against hers. The words completely true. They stay like that for a minute in silence, and he pulls away.
“You shall stay in Nanda Parbat as you recuperate. I will inform the Justice League.” He stares at her sternly but she does not refuse him and he turns away from her.
The Justice League has been quite cautious about Raven. They knew of her relationship with the leader of the League of Assassins. And what the risk of putting her in imminent danger would mean considering Damian’s nature. Therefore, Raven was treated as if she was glass and yet, also fire.
“I begged them to give me the mission.” She said softly, she took note of Damian’s body twitching but she had to continue on. “After you left, and made a name for yourself as the new Demon’s Head, they were uncertain of where my loyalties lie.” She found it difficult to talk due to her injuries, but she had enough strength to heal herself a bit, to keep herself conscious and stop internal bleeding. And so Raven did, as she continued on.
“And then you made a point to show that you were not like your predecessor. And yet, you also made it clear you could be far worst. And I, your beloved, was someone who they could not risk in the forefront anymore.” She moved in her seat, as she felt her insides return back to how it should be. “I just wanted to do one more mission, where I wasn’t treated like a bomb, and after that, I will be done.”
He turned to look at her with a shocked expression. Her voice was calm as her face was gentle. Despite her battered appearance, she looked like a saint to him. The words he couldn’t seem to say aloud, she felt, and she responded as she closed her eyes.
“Yes, I was going to leave the Titans, and be with you. Commit fully to you.” Her voice was soft but his thoughts were a mess. And it was clear to Raven, all of his thoughts, as if they were all written on the air for her to read.
“The Justice League thought it was a harmless mission; therefore, they could let me go. It was supposed to be a reconnaissance mission, nothing more. But we were ambushed, and I was captured.” She sighs and opens her eyes to look up at Damian. The water in his eyes finally gave way as he blinked when their met, and she inhaled a breath.
“You could have died.” He said it lightly, that Raven’s heart started beating fast in her ears. His cold eyes that had never been directed at her, has finally landed on her. “You could have died, if I was just a minute too late.” And like his eyes that could no longer contain his tears. Raven could not ignore his emotions. And she broke into a sob, as she covered her lips with her fingers. He knelt beside her, as he put a hand on her cheek.
And his face was not cold nor was it warm. The eyes she had seen him use with his fellow assassins had disappeared. She didn’t expect that the day he would look at her, the way he did his subordinates, would happen.
“Are you crying for me?” He whispered and she sniffed as she looks at him. But still, even if his cold stare was frightening. She could never be afraid of Damian Al Ghul, even if he was an Al Ghul, and the current Demon’s Head.
“I’m sorry.” She tried to contain the emotions. And she could feel the apology he was about to say. And before he could, she leans her forehead against his. Places her right thumb over his lips as her palm rested on his jaw. “But I swear to you, I am done with being a hero. I want to walk that grey line with you.”
And his lips turned up into a smile. A smile that was only ever directed at her. His gentleness and kindness only exclusive to her. His warmth only reserved for her. And she could feel it all in her chest, and in her very bones.
The love he has for his beloved Raven.
And the danger, if he loses his bird.
(FIN)
Notes:
*Mashrabiya = those wooden windows with intricate design; (wiki says: is an architectural element which is characteristic of traditional architecture in the Islamic world and is a type of projecting oriel window enclosed with carved wood latticework).
Raven laid under Damian with her right forearm a top her head. While her left hand was resting on her sternum. Her pink lips were agape as soft pants pass through her slightly swollen lips. Her bare chest heaving up and down.
Her violet eyes were in a daze as she look at the man before her. His body well maintained. His hands on either side of her breast. His skin was like caramel, sweat trickling down his bare chest with so many different types of scars all over his body.
His right arm was filled with tattoos. She recalled him explaining quite vaguely what each one meant. And she would trace her fingers on each tattoo as he spoke of them. The two didn’t know much about each other’s past, and him even mentioned what each tattoo meant to him was almost half of what she knows of him.
Raven lifts up her left hand and traces the tattoos on his right wrist and went up his shoulder. As she did that, Damian leaned closer to her jaw and left kisses there and began painstakingly going down slowly to her sternum. Her left hands reach the back of his neck and her right hand tracing Damian’s abdominal muscles. She could feel the texture of the scar he got from a sword under her finger tips.
“I’m thinking of getting a tattoo.” She whispered which made Damian pull away from his recent kiss on her collar bone.
He looks down at her with etched eyebrows for a moment and resumed where he left off. Before his lips could meet her skin, Raven gently pushed his face away with her left hand on his jawline.
“Do you not like the idea?” She inquired looking up at him. For a moment she saw the hesitation on his face and then he buried his face on the nook of her left shoulder. He tilts his head up to her ear.
“It’s not that I don’t like the idea.” He whispered deeply into her ear and then pulled away completely to gaze at her body. She has always been alluring to him, especially like this.
Naked. With the lights on so that he may admire her entire beauty.
His right index and middle finger, barely touch the skin of her left jaw, down to her neck to the space between her breasts. “Skin so white and without blemish.” And his calloused hand rest just below her stomach.
To Raven his appraising gaze was scorching. His touch putting her on edge. A desire had been relit with his nonchalant response and actions.
“I have to admit, when your underneath me,” His right hand slips under her waist and he raises her a bit, and he leaned to suck the skin under her right breast, near her sternum. “With your unblemished skin as white as snow and as soft as silk. I can’t deny it drives me mad with lust.” He caress the red spot he created on her right breast with his left hand.
“Like a clean sheet of paper that only I can draw on.” He muttered as he kissed and sucked and nibbled on the skin around her collarbone and chest. A raspy exhale escapes Raven’s lips.
Raven holds Damian’s right wrist tightly. It was strong enough to alarm Damian and make him stop with his current tasks. He looks up at her from over her chest, and she gazed down at him.
Ravens left fingers caress Damian alluringly on his right arm. And Raven could see the desire in her lover’s eyes. A small smile forms on her lips as she continues to move up his arm filled with tattoos.
He sets her back down and pulled up to silently look down on her, waiting for what she has to say. Damian knew his lover had something to say but he lets her run her fingers through his body, patiently waiting.
He wasn’t sure if she knew just how much her actions was igniting him.
“Your tattoos,” She says breathlessly, Damian’s eyes narrowed at her lips. “They have a story that enchants me. And your scars,“ She traces his scars under the fingertips of her right hand while her left hand holds his upper right arm.
"Some mended well that you can’t feel them but are seen, and others leave a certain texture under my hands. And your calloused hands brushing against my skin,” her left hand on the back of his neck and her right hand now behind his head as she gently pulls his head closer to her.
"I don’t think you know how intoxicating it is.” She kisses him gently and before she pulls away bit his lower lip playfully. Their eyes locked as he gave a low guttural growl and a soft smile forms on her lips.
“When I get to push you down and lay a top you, as I trace your scars, I wonder how a strong man would lay unmoving underneath such a small frame.” And she moves her lips near his right ear.
“That thought makes me pretty horny too.“ She admitted as she blew into his ear, and he buried his face on her neck as he nibbled away.
"It seems like we’ve developed a preference.” Raven mumbled as she allows herself to be swept with the reignited pleasure she was feeling.
“I guess we like being on top.” Raven chuckled. And Damian sucked on the tender skin on her neck.
“Then it’s good we take turns.” He says and then kisses his new mark on her.
~.~.~.~.~
Raven was walking towards the kitchen counter in her black laced underwear, with a really thin, old off white shirt that left her left shoulder bare. The shirt was short enough that any small movements would show her butt cheeks.
And walking into the sight of Raven just casually bending slightly on the counter with her butt cheeks showings, made Damian stop for a moment. A sly smile on his lips.
He approaches her quietly, Raven unaware of Damian at all. She pulls away from the counter and stands properly and stretches her neck to the right. She suddenly felt familiar strong arms around her waist and a head resting on her left shoulder.
“Damian.” She chuckled as she pull her head up.
“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, his voice a little too low for Raven’s liking. He started kissing her neck, and she raised her left hand to caress his head.
“I can’t Damian.” She sighs and tried to pull away, but instead he spun her to face him and she couldn’t help but giggle.
“Why not?” He pouted, and she leaned her forehead against him.
“Because I have an early class tomorrow.” She gave him a peck on the lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. And they kissed for a minute.
Raven couldn’t help but moan and gently pushed on his chest weakly. But he felt the soft pressure and pulled away. She was panting softly.
“But that hasn’t stopped us.” He says matter-of-factly, and she smiled at him lovingly.
“I have an exam.” She turns around to face the laptop on the counter, his arms still around her waist as he rest his chin on her left shoulder.
“Alright.” He mumbles looking over her reading material. He kisses her shoulder and says that it looks simple enough. And she turned her head at him.
“You say that because you literally can learn anything in such a short given amount of time!” And he chuckles hearing her complain.
“Alright, I won’t disturb you.” He says pulling away, his right hand still on her hip. Before he can let her go fully, Raven caught his hand on her hip with her right hand.
“Well, I suppose– a little break won’t hurt anyone.” She mumbles a small blush on her face, and Damian laughed whole-heartedly.
“Can’t resist me, huh?” He says and she takes a step forward so that their faces were just an inch away.
“We haven’t seen each other for a few days.” She whispers, her expression darkening as she stares at his lips.
“Sorry…” He mumbles, as he cups her face with his right hand and used his free one to close the laptop.
“Wouldn’t want anyone to see…” He continues to mumble, Raven’s left hand already under his shirt. And she couldn’t wait anymore and kisses him and he kisses back. When she pulled away he took the chance to ask.
“Did you decide on getting a tattoo?” Both her hands now under his shirt, on top of his abs. Her right hand had hooked his shirt up by the space between her thumb and index finger. She stops and pulled away to look up at his face and gave him an enchanting smile. She stood on her tippy tones and looked like she was about to kiss him.
“I only really love tattoos on you.” She answered back as she runs her hands up to his pecs along with his shirt. And he made everything easier for her by removing his shirt himself.
My Hero Academia x Danny Phantom crossover Word Count: 5262 Read on: [ao3]
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“A kid?” Shouta asked.
The muffled sound of an explosion echoed from the other side of the phone line.
“He can’t be older than sixteen.” Kamui Woods’ voice crackled through the receiver. “Eraserhead, this is going to sound crazy, but the kid has multiple quirks. We can’t get near him. He keeps…shit, he just flew through another wall!”
So when Uraraka talking about how she thought that deku meant dekiru, Danny in true Danny fashion chimes in that he thought it was a pun but as the only English native speaker the other three don’t get it.
I love this crossover so much it one of my favorites to daydream about especially when you throw in some dadzawa.
A classic Danny Phantom and My Hero Academia Crossover where Danny ends up in Japan by accident and needs to figure out how to get back home. Easier said than done of course. It helps that Danny is ridiculously OP and may be able to help out during his time there.
Danny knew about natural ghost portals, how they were very random, rarely showed up outside of ectoplasmic hot spots, and mainly only affected the unluckiest of people in terms of tearing them from this familiar time and space and spitting them out into something completely different. He also knew the ones in the ghost zone were ones you don’t go in willingly unless you want to ditch the world you know so well and never want to be found again.
So imagine his goddamn surprise when one decides to fuck up his life before he even gets a chance to process what the fuck was happening.
