Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

—  L O N D O N  —

Most of St. James Park was empty, aside from the shadows that leisurely strolled across the grounds. One of them took humanoid form and neared someone snoring on a park bench.

She sat down next to the unconscious blond man. A cigarette balanced itself between his lips, still emitting a soft stream of smoke. Tiny embers flared when the man exhaled. 

She tried tapping him on the shoulder. That didn't work. She didn't think it would. He slept through just about anything—when she found a demon living in the oven, the manor obtained more than a few burn marks until he roused.

She poked his lightly-stubbled cheek. Still nothing. 

She sighed, glancing down where something glinted from the inside pocket of his sandy trench coat. He always carried a flask. She popped open the container and held it beneath his nose, wafting the strong scent of liquor towards him with her hand. 

His nose twitched. Yet his breaths remained slow and steady.

“Hmm,” Her hand hovered in midair near his face. She moved her fingers towards his forehand and flicked him. Hard.

“Bollocks!” John Constantine shot up. His cigarette went flying and his bloodshot eyes darted everywhere until settling on the figure in front of him. Constantine’s gaze darkened.

“Remember that conversation we had, Roth? About boundaries?”

“I'm not your sidekick, and you’re not my mentor. No one will ever follow you on this path, and my presence holds no threat to your record: I’m just around.” She recited, throwing up handmade quotation marks. 

“Exactly. And that means not interfering with my lifestyle.” 

“I'm not,” She remarked. Constantine’s cigarette was still missing. She checked her own pockets and her fingers curled around a box. She pulled out a full cache of Constantine’s favorites (specifically for his use, of course) and offered him one. 

“I noticed you weren't home yet. I would’ve left you alone, but I figured a mattress would be more comfortable than a night on a park bench,” She replied. 

He groaned, snatching one of his ‘ciggys’ and pulling himself up from his creaking wooden nest. 

“Where’s the house?”

“Down the street.” 

The vibration of a phone mingled with the sound of late-night, socializing crickets. 

Constantine rubbed at his temples as he trudged forward. “Walking’s annoying with this hangover. Why don’t you teleport us—oi!”

He called out sharply to realize his companion was still ten paces back, smirking at her phone. Constantine huffed, “You’re gonna walk into a lamppost with that thing in front of your face!”

“I'm coming,” Her steps quickened to match his. The bright luminescence of the phone lit up her lingering smile. 

She kept in touch with all of the Titans, but there were only two that she spoke with on a frequent basis. Kory’s texts were mainly reiterating Dick’s concerns and gushing over any pastries and chocolate-related things she discovered. And the other…

“I hope that it's not your nightly visitor,” Constantine commented, peering over at her phone screen. She leaned the opposite direction in response as they walked. 

“Hey, remember that conversation we just had about boundaries? Respecting each other’s private lives?”

“You woke me up from my nap. You pay the price, Roth.”

“I don't have nightly visitors. And if I did, I warn you against harboring any curiosity,” She remarked.

“You warn me? It’s not like I’m itching to sneak into a nineteen year-old girl’s bedroom. But it is my house, love.” 

“Your house…” The building in question came into view amongst dark wisps of treetops. The massive manor, formally known as the House of Mystery, was a sentient structure that could move itself through time and space. Like it's location, nothing about the house rarely stayed the same; the rooms inside always rearranged themselves in a dizzying labrinth. Even the architecture, which currently matched the gray cobblestone of London, was prone to alterations. 

“Didn't you win that in a poker game?” She recalled one of Constantine’s many pub stories, some of those nights ending on the same park bench. 

“It was won fair and square.”

“I know you. Do you really expect me to believe that?” 

Constantine paused at the steps leading up to the double doors of the house. She copied his behavior, reaching out with spectral senses to scan the house. Something felt off. As an empath, she felt another presence inside. It did feel familiar...and it didn't at the same time. That was confusing. 

The pair shared a sidelong look. Constantine huffed, “We have a visitor.” 

They tensed, energy crackling in the air as magic was called forth. Soft embers from Constantine’s cigarette burned bright. The shadows of St. James Park were born into new creatures of terror to roam the realm of night.  

The double doors opened.

Superman stood before the two, bathed in the soft candlelight. His cobalt gaze met hers. 

“Rachel Roth? I’ve been looking for you.”

Chapter Text

“You and your nightly visitors,” Constantine grumbled as he brooded by the fireplace. The trio gathered in the parlor, silhouettes blazing in the warm golden glow of flames. The room itself was a relic, filled with antique furniture and shelves of ancient tomes. One wall remained a contradiction, presenting row upon colorful rows of vinyl records. A vinyl record hummed to life somewhere nearby.

“Nightly visitors?” Superman repeated.

“Don't listen to him—tipsy is his natural state,” Raven peered at her stoic-posing friend over a cup of tea. Before she took a sip, Constantine whipped out three sugar packets and tossed them to her. 

“Tipsy? You underestimate me.”

“I was trying to be nicer about your alcoholism. Oh, I also made dinner. Sort of. It's in the fridge.”

“Take out?” Constantine asked. Raven nodded. 

“Cheers, mate. I’ll be back,” Superman’s eyes followed the blond as he left. 

“What exactly is the...nature of your relationship?” Superman inquired. His eyebrow rose as Raven emptied all three sugar packets into her steaming mug. 

“He’s a friend.” Raven answered.

“Are you his apprentice, or…?”

“No.” The response came out quick and harsher than she intended. It was a common conclusion that others came to. But that implied an obligation on his part to her, and her to him. Raven was nothing to John Constantine. She added, “It’s not like that...I’m just...around. You know, for the entertainment value and whatnot.” 

“Ah.” Superman looked down at his own beverage before taking a tentative sip.

Raven’s head tipped to the side as she studied him. It seemed like he was the Superman—she couldn't sense any hostile intent. He didn’t act like a mind-controlled marionette or a clone. Raven was surprised at how overwhelmingly...massive he was. Sure, there were tumblr blogs and reddit posts boasting about the muscle mass of Superman. In person, however, his bicep looked roughly the size of her head. She was afraid to take off her shoes and increase the height difference between them.

“So, when exactly did that happen…?”

“How about you answer some of my questions first, if that’s okay?” Raven crossed her arms. “We’ve never met before. I haven't come across any extraterrestrial activity—” except for introducing Kory to X-Files, “—Constantine is a founding member of the mystical-fighting branch of the Justice League, yet he hasn't heard from them in months. I guess what I'm saying is...why are you here, Superman?”

“You’re right—oh, it's Clark, by the way. Clark Kent.” He replied, setting down his mug. “Also, it’s...difficult to explain.”

“I think I can keep up.” 

The aroma of reheated chinese food invaded the room as Constantine returned with chopsticks in hand. Raven didn't see why he would have any reason to linger, except for curiosity or his own amusement. She could sense his hunger though, confirmed a second later by his grumbling stomach.

“Did I miss anything? Don't mind me, keep going, love.” 

Clark glanced at Raven, almost like a silent question as to whether he should continue. Raven shrugged; she trusted Constantine enough. Not completely, but enough. 

“Actually, it may be good for you to hear this...it concerns you too, I think,” Clark said softly. The fireplace crackled as if the flames were shushing one another with anticipation. 

“Lately, I’ve been seeing things. Flashes...things feel familiar, but I know for sure I’ve never interacted with them before.” 

Raven glanced at Constantine. Reincarnation came to mind, but Raven pocketed the theory and kept listening. 

“I saw a picture of you the other day. It was from Wonder Woman—Diana...did you visit Themyscira?”

“Over a year ago.” Raven shuddered. It was a six-month mission (more like imprisonment) devoted to studying on the Amazonian island in order to save Donna Troy. A few months without wifi was tough but endurable. A few months without junk food and chocolate...that was agony. 

“Right. When I saw you...something clicked in my brain, and I felt a deep connection with you. I couldn't shake it off, so I tracked you down and here I am. What I didn't expect was a similar feeling towards you, Constantine,” Clark remarked, tossing a look at the blond. 

Raven peered at Clark over steepled fingers as she processed the information. She could trust Superman as a source. There was no ulterior motive revealed thus far. Raven's eyebrows furrowed, wondering if the “connection” he felt went both ways. Nothing seemed out of place with his aura on other dimensional planes. But just looking at him...there was a fuzzy feeling, or was that just the Superman guise? He was so well-known, yet completely foreign at the same time. 

“Me?” Constantine’s chopsticks hovered an inch from his mouth. He quickly slurped up the noodles, then pointed the chopsticks at Clark, “Don't tell me you're dragging me into...whatever this is.” 

“What do you think?” Raven muttered to him.

“I think all that time in space without oxygen has made Supey here banana balls,” Constantine’s resolution was muffled by the chinese food still in his mouth.

“Please don't call me ‘soup’,’” Clark pouted a little at the nickname. 

“I’d be more offended by the ‘banana balls’ comment, personally. Nevertheless, can you elaborate on what you mean by connection? The flashes that you mentioned...let’s start there. You’re seeing things?” Raven said.

“Sort of.” Clark sighed. “They’re more like nightmares, to be honest. But it's the same thing, over and over. They’re not random like dreams, it's like a timeline. No, like...memories.”

Raven and Constantine exchanged a look. Constantine licked his lips before he spoke, “What kinds of things are you seeing, Clarky?” 

“I don't really care for that nickname either.”

“For a man who keeps his personal identity hidden by a simple pair of dorky glasses, you’re real picky about how people see you, mate.” 

Raven’s phone buzzed. Quickly she read off the text. 

Dog Mom: Did you rescue the delinquent from the park bench yet? Still don't think it's worth your time btw

Damian. The alien and the delinquent in question blinked out of existence as they continued to argue three feet away. Raven answered him;

Me: If he dies, people will probably assume I did it, you know. Not that I have an issue with that, it's just very inconveniencing in my everyday life. But yes, he's safe. Superman’s here

Dog Mom: …

Dog Mom: Elaborate? 

Me: He just showed up. Said he saw a picture of me and felt something. Now that I see that written out, let me add more context: he’s seeing things. Okay that just makes it sound worse

Dog Mom: It does. On my way, there’s a pretty rock collection I want to show Kent.

Me: It's not like that!!! Don't go catatonic yet, okay? I’ll hear him out, and I’ll meet you somewhere in Gotham tomorrow. I’ll tell you all about it then. How’s that sound?

Raven glanced up from the screen. There were benefits to living with John Constantine; one of them was that he was dating King Shark, which meant frequent, casual visits to Gotham. It shouldn't be hard to convince him to go—if that failed, there was always teleporting. 

Dog Mom: I’ll pick you up. In the mood for a drive?

Me: Sure. See you then

“—come on, Clarky. A dead, apocalyptic world? You could at least be more original.” 

“I'm sorry my memories aren't more exciting, Constantine.”

“I’m just saying, you could try harder.” Constantine waved his chopsticks in the air. “You know, it's all about the presentation.”

“So...what now?” Raven’s eyes narrowed at the Kryptonian. “You have memories. We don't know where they came from.”

“Or if they’re hallucinations…” Constantine’s eyes widened as he looked down at his noodles. 

“I don't know,” Clark admitted, “but if it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep in touch. I spoke with Nightwing when I first started to locate you...he had no idea where you were. I think he misses you—Kory and the others, too.”

Raven doubted the last part of his sentence, but felt a pang in her chest when he mentioned Dick. She was supposed to return to the Titans after her trip to Themyscira. Instead of dropping Raven off in San Francisco, the Amazonians returned her to London. And then she ran into Constantine. Raven hadn't been in the same room with Dick ever since. 

“There was never a more subtle guilt-trip,” Constantine muttered when he glanced at Raven’s face. 

“He's not wrong,” She said quietly. Perhaps Clark was right. It had been two years since she had seen the Titans. Now she was nowhere to be found. Just a shadow in an empty park. 

“I’ll work on being easier to find,” Raven promised, not just to Clark, but to others that weren't currently present. 

“Thanks. Maybe if you shout ‘Nevermore’ from the rooftops or something…”

“I’ll be right above your chamber door. I can escort you out, too; the exit moves around sometimes,” Raven set down her cup and led him back through the ever-shifting house. They walked down new hallways that weren't there before, passing new door frames and different decor. For the most part, no words were exchanged. The silence was swallowed up by one of Constantine’s vinyl records that echoed along the walls. 

Raven stopped at the ever-imposing double doors. “We’ll see what we can do about the memories. Even if it was for a weird reason, I’m glad our paths got to cross. Thanks for stopping by.”

Clark lingered on the front steps, flashing her a smile. Raven paused at the sight. It was such a heart-warming, genuine expression. As an empath, she felt compassion radiating off of him in waves. Wait, is that…? No, maybe it's just me.

Clark bowed his head, and then said something that left her speechless. “You’re nothing like your father, Rachel.” 

Then he was gone. Another silhouette swallowed up by the kingdom of night.

Chapter Text

—  G O T H A M  —

Something icy caressed Raven’s cheek. The residue of the teleportation spell lingered in the air around her. Another flash of cold, this time tracing along her eyebrow. 

Rain. The most common welcome sign of Gotham City. 

Raven looked about the gothic relic, invaded by the neon-alterations of the outside world. The near-constant blanket of gray covering the city shrouded the shrubs in a soft olive-green hue. Even the people on the street were little puzzles to her empathic senses. Gotham had its own atmosphere, something chilled and unsettling. But Raven found that the more unsettling something was, the more she felt at home. 

A familiar roar assaulted her ears. The nearby skyscrapers shuddered. She smiled just as a sleek black machine raced down the streets, far too massive and far too dangerous to be mistaken for a car. 

The Batmobile pulled up right beside her as the jaws of the passenger door opened wide. She leaned down to meet the gaze of the driver. 

“Hi,” She waved shyly at Damian Wayne. 

“Hey,” Something close to a smirk fluttered across his features. It was a small gesture, yet it thawed the icy chill of the Gotham atmosphere. Raven climbed in as the downpour struck with more force. The deathly growl of the engine snarled once more as the vehicle sped off. 

It wasn't Raven’s first time in the infamous Batmobile, but she had begun to accept that all passengers received a spark of adrenaline when inside. She found the drive much more comfortable over time, listening to the splatter of raindrops across the windshield and watching the extended blur of lit-up buildings.

“Have you eaten enough today?” Damian asked. It had become a casual greeting between the two of them.

“Yes, thanks…” Raven’s voice trailed off as her eyes hovered on the driver. Damian was still wearing his Robin uniform, a mask obscuring half of his face. She glanced down at her own dark, everyday clothes.

“I suddenly feel very underdressed.”

“Don't be. Just came off patrol,” He replied. Roads were simple streaks in the side windows. Damian always drove fast, but he never lost control of the vehicle. It wasn't hard to believe he’d driven much longer than her, or anyone else. 

“Ah. Anything interesting happen?” She said.

Damian shrugged. “Not really. A few robberies, Quinn blew up another ACE Chemicals location to mock Joker. Otherwise, very uneventful.” 

Raven nodded along. Between Constantine and Damian, she was aware of any news-worthy events occuring in Gotham; Harley Quinn had been striking out on her own, Commissioner Jim Gordon’s marriage was worsening and exceedingly gross. Everyone knew everyone...or, more accurately, Batman knew everyone.

“So, what happened with Kent?” Damian glanced over at her, one hand still leisurely on the wheel. 

Raven reiterated Clark’s claim about his memories. Damian frowned as he listened to the apocalyptic visions, and above all, Clark’s insistence on their close affiliation. 

“I can't say why Kent would be interested in you, but the way he described the memories sounds very similar to Barry Allen’s Flashpoint theory,” Damian replied thoughtfully. 

“Flashpoint theory…? What does that mean?” 

“Personally, I don't see any authenticity in the theory, but father believes it has merit for some reason. The Flashpoint occurs when the Flash attempts to alter an event in time, and in doing so also creates a ripple effect and influences other events of the timeline. Allen claimed that he still remembered his life from the altered timeline, but other than his word and my father’s, there’s very little evidence surrounding the theory.” 

“Impressive,” Raven turned in her seat towards him during his grand explanation.

“It’s a very outlandish concept.”

“I was referring to you.” Raven replied. “Were you showing off just now?”

“...A little.” Damian inclined his head, suddenly very interested in the road before them.  

Raven smirked, “You don't have to grandstand to astound me.”

“I had no idea your astonishment was so easily attained.”

“It's not, normally. But I find myself constantly mystified when I'm with you.” She admitted.

The Batmobile fell to silence, but the adrenaline seemed to reassert itself. Everything tingled with electricity, and Raven wasn't sure what to say or do next. She fiddled with her fingers in her lap. Damian glanced over at her once, and she quickly cast her gaze over to her side window. When she looked back at him, he was staring straight ahead, both hands now occupying the wheel. 

Raven wasn't sure how long the silence would’ve continued, but it was cut short by an incoming call that flashed on the central monitor. Her eyes widened when she read the name: Dick Grayson.

Raven’s head snapped towards Damian, “Um—”

“If you want to duck down to avoid him, I won't judge.” Damian mused.

“That sounds cowardly.”

“Opposed to listening to Grayson talk? I’d call it avoiding irritation,” He replied.

Raven had no reason to avoid Dick. Yet the thought of him seeing her in the car...with Damian—but there was no reason to think anything of it. Not at all. It meant nothing, why was it such a big deal? It wasn't supposed to be.

“Answer the call,” She said weakly. 

“Your funeral,” Damian warned her, and pressed a button. 

Dick’s face flickered into existence and covered the entire monitor. “Hey, little man—Rachel? Wow, you grew out your hair! It looks super cute! We miss you, Kory misses you so much!”

“Thanks, I miss you guys too…” Raven’s face felt hot. She hoped she didn't look too red. 

“What are you doing in Gotham?” Dick asked.

Raven and Damian exchanged a look. “Um...crap. It was...supposed to be a surprise.”

“A what?” Dick leaned in close to the camera, his face taking up the entire screen. Those big, innocent blue eyes that made everyone bend to Dick’s will made it increasingly hard to think (or lie). 

“I was going to surprise you guys by showing up here,” Raven found it hard to swallow when pierced by Dick’s gaze. 

“Wait, you don't mean…” Dick blinked and gasped as he came to his own realization. “You’re returning to the Titans?”

“You’re what?” Damian tossed her a look with his eyebrows askew. This had escalated far beyond what she had imagined. 

“Well, I—”

“That's fantastic! This is party-worthy news!”

“No, wait, Dick! No parties! There’s no need for—”

“This is something to celebrate, Ray. Finally, another adult in the house…you have no idea how much we need you back there. It’s been rough without our big guns.”

Raven was sure that refusal was beyond the realm of all normal conversation by now. Her thoughts trailed away from Dick. What about Constantine? Sure, she could leave whenever she wanted. He would have no objections. But she spent over a year living with him...could she just out on him like this? Or was this a golden opportunity in disguise, given Clark’s words from the night before? Dick seemed so happy, and she didn't want to ruin that. But what would she say to John? 

Dick was still droning on. “...Damian talks about you all the time! I think he really missed you.”

“—TT—” A disgruntled noise bubbled up from Damian’s throat. “Grayson. Stop talking.”

“It's the truth! You’re the one person he’ll actually give a compliment to. Hold up, what are you two doing together...alone…?”

Raven’s worst fear had come true. It only escalated when another form appeared behind Dick on the monitor: Jason Todd.

“I heard the word party: the human incarnation of one has arrived. What are we celebrating, Grayson—? Oh my god, LITTLE D’S ON A DATE!”

Amidst the chaos, Raven heard Damian mutter a curse under his breath. His brothers (mostly Jason) exploded into obnoxious noise.

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW OUR LITTLE GREMLIN FELT THINGS! LOOK AT OUR TINY ANKLE-BITER GROWING UP!”

“It's not like that and you know it, Todd. Drop it or drop dead.” Damian’s finger jammed into one of the controls. His two brothers vanished. 

Raven sighed, “I'm sorry. Maybe I should’ve ducked down…”

“Why are you apologizing for Todd’s stupidity? If anything, I should apologize on behalf of my unruly family.”

“When it comes to insane family members...I think we both know I'm in no position to judge.”

 Damian cast another look at her when he asked a second question. “Are you really coming back?” 

Raven pressed her lips together. It was beginning to feel like she had to, or the guilt would corrupt her from the inside. But that wasn't the only compelling reason. For the past year and a half, she hadn't really lingered in one place. She spent more time in London and Gotham, but when traveling with Constantine, that meant nothing. For all she knew, they could visit three separate countries tomorrow. She missed structured surroundings. 

More importantly (and shockingly), she missed people her age. Spending time with Constantine never really bothered her, but it wasn't the same. Raven found herself missing what she never thought she would crave; Dick’s scheduled lifestyle and Kory’s attempts at “girls night.” It would certainly be nice to see Damian on a regular basis.

“There are things that I miss,” Raven confessed, once again knitting her fingers together.

“There’s a difference when you’re not there,” Damian replied.

“Birds are singing more, the sun shines brighter?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I should inform you that despite being literal hellspawn, many people enjoy your company...myself included.”

“...Thanks.” 

“But it's less chaotic when you’re present.” He remarked.

She snorted. “You don't have to spare my feelings.”

“I'm not. I'm being sincere.” The car slowed to a stop. They were parked in front of the sea; an ACE Chemicals factory was in the distance, but it did nothing to damage the view before them. If anything, the vibrant display of neon colors left a stunning glaze across the waves. 

When she faced Damian, she already found him completely turned in his seat towards her. He’d removed his mask, revealing a pair of gorgeous emerald eyes. 

“What do you think I should do?” She asked him softly. When he leaned his head on the driver’s seat, he looked so gentle...Damian actually appeared like the teenager he was. 

“No matter what decision you make, I’ll respect it.”

“I know...but I like hearing your take on things sometimes. You’re observant and blunt, Damian. That makes your opinion valuable.”

“Now you’re sparing my feelings.” That wisp of a smile flashed across his face. “But...I do miss—”

The colors bobbing on the head of the waves gleamed with golden hues. Off in the horizon, the ACE Chemicals factory was replaced with blazing light. Raven winced at the furious glow.

The light started to expand. 

Raven’s hands felt blindly for the door handle. Something clicked beneath her fingers. She ducked out of the car right as Damian’s voice called out. 

Raven lifted a hand, as if attempting to grasp at the illumination that danced across the water. 

Azarath metrion zinthos.

Darkness seeped from her fingertips and shot out in long strips. Whispers filled her mind as the shadows stretched, seeking the light like an entity. 

Filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before…

Black matter rose like a towering wave, ever consuming. Something curled in her chest—gnawing like hunger, pungent like pain. Whispers morphed into growls. 

The light emitted from ACE Chemicals was enveloped by the shroud of night.

Darkness there and nothing more.

Raven felt the explosion push and burn the shadowy restraints. The flames were contained, but the impact bled through. Something wrapped around her as she was thrown backwards.

All Raven could see was red.

“Raven…?”

Raven glanced up from the crimson microfiber of Robin’s uniform. Damian held her tight against his chest. He had taken the brunt of their fall. 

“Are you okay? Did you break anything?” Raven sat up—the scent of chemicals burning her nostrils as she did so—and looked him over. Somehow, Damian had already secured his mask to its original place. She traced his limbs with her eyes, making sure they were all in natural positions.

“I didn't acquire any serious injuries,” He informed her, leaning up on his elbows. As he glanced back at the smoking remains of the ACE Chemicals factory, a sour expression (more than the usual) twisted his features. “Why does Arkham even exist, unless it's a motel for criminals?”

“Hmm?” Raven followed his gaze to see a new bed of flowers that appeared near the slightly dusty Batmobile. A giant lily bloomed at its center, where two forms appeared.

Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn groaned together when they spotted the pair. 

“Dammit. We attracted a Robin.”

Chapter Text

“See? I told ya not to refill the bird feeders before we left!” Harley Quinn gestured at Robin with a baseball bat. 

“That doesn't count as a superstition, Harls. It was one time,” Poison Ivy remarked. She thrust her hands into the pockets of a high-collared pine jacket. Raven hadn't run into many infamous Gotham criminals (especially not from this close a distance), but Ivy’s casual appearance caught her off guard. It wasn't flamboyant at all, like Harley’s vibrant red-obsidian two-piece. For such extravagant powers, Ivy seemed...calm. In control. 

“And now it's two times! It's a DS!”

“ ‘DS’? What does that even mean?”

“It's a Double Sign, Iv! Like this!” Harley held up two middle fingers. 

“Uhuh. And here’s a bouquet of them, honey, just for you,” Ivy held up her left hand, all jade fingers on display. 

“Aw, Ivy! A bouquet? You shouldn't have!” 

“What happened to the ACE Chemicals factory?” Damian cut in, glaring at the nonchalant pair. 

“Look Robin, you’re adorable and all, but you’re kind of getting in the way of us serving justice to some plants that Project Cadmus is experimenting on,” said Ivy.

“And random people too,” Harley added.

“Yeah yeah. People schmeople.” Ivy rolled her eyes. “Ever since ACE Chemicals partnered with them, the nearby environment has suffered. Whenever we get close enough to figure out what those idiots are doing, they blow up the place.”

“I can't believe half the city thinks I’m visiting these dumps because of Joker! We broke up, like, a year ago. I'm happily with somebody else!” Harley reached up on her tiptoes to kiss Ivy’s cheek. “I have zero ties to that dickhead, now!”

“Real romantic, babe.” 

Damian turned towards Raven. His face was unreadable. “You’re an empath; can you tell if they’re lying?”

“It's not an exact science. But when they mentioned the explosion, nothing seemed out of place. I don't think they’re responsible,” Raven murmured back, sending another analytical glance at them. 

“Regardless, we have to take them in for questioning. Among other various reasons.” Damian hesitated when he uttered the plural term. 

Raven nodded along. She didn't plan on leaving him here to sort out this mess alone. “Okay. If things go south, I’ll take care of Ivy.” 

Raven’s gaze met Harley’s, flanked by cotton candy-colored eyeshadow. “ACE Chemicals’ involvement with Project Cadmus sounds like an issue we shouldn't be ignoring. I think we should discuss it together, further.”

“Sorry, Miss Wednesday Addams,” Harley’s bat rested upon her shoulder. The scarlet-black pattern of the weapon was dulled from...recent use. “I’m kinda in a Denny's mood right now. Beatin’ up goons is a real calorie burner, ya know? Thanks for the offer, but—”

“It was not a request.” Damian took a step forward. 

Harley huffed. Her baseball bat slid down from her shoulder, into her open palm. The flowerbed beneath her feet started to spread.

“Harls,” Ivy sighed and looked across the clearing. “We’d love to exchange notes and all, because teaming up with a costume-wearing teenager is a great move for a grown woman’s career, but maybe now is not the best time—”

“No one is leaving until this problem is solved.” The outline of Damian’s eyebrows furrowed beneath his mask. 

Harley Quinn spat on the ground. “You know what? Screw it. I’ve had enough of Bat’s Brat owning Gotham. Suck it, Robin!”

Baseball bat held high, Harley charged towards Damian. As grunts and kicks were exchanged, Raven’s gaze flitted across the clearing. 

Massive roots shot up from the ground, sending dirt specks flying as they slithered towards Damian.

Raven raised both hands. Shadows shot across the sky like obsidian meteorites to block the oncoming assault. Raven felt fabric rustle beneath her chin as her uniform appeared, the feather-like cloak fanning out behind her. She peeked out from under the conjured shields to track her enemy. 

“For the record, I just wanna say thanks for containing the blast and all. On behalf of the plants,” Poison Ivy remarked. She hovered above the field on a massive lily. The flowerbed below was spreading, and Raven didn't miss how it slowly trickled towards Damian’s feet. 

“Don't mention it,” Raven’s focus intensified on the stem of the white lily. It's long neck was soon engulfed in shadows. The pure ivory petals were consumed next.

Raven made a throwing motion with her arm. Poison Ivy went airborne.

Raven glanced back at Damian. Harley currently had him in a headlock. Raven had seen Jason Todd try the same thing with Damian, and it always ended with disastrous results. He would be fine. 

Raven’s boots left the ground as she started her search for Ivy. 

Their nearby surroundings consisted of lapping waters, rubble once known as the ACE Chemicals factory, and a few skyscrapers dotting the outskirts of Gotham City. Raven scanned the direction in which Ivy flew; the churning waves. She'd hoped to keep the violence as far away from the city as possible. Gotham was the closest she came to "home" nowadays.

An explosion of water droplets spewed across the clearing. 

Poison Ivy rose from the depths, flanked by long stems of seaweed. The long leaves should’ve looked crinkled and withered from being ripped out of their element. Under Ivy’s care, they were bright green and menacing.

And also heading straight for Raven’s face.

Raven could sense the irritation radiating off of Ivy like a toxic chemical. She blocked the first strike of the kelp and met Ivy’s gaze, “For the record, sorry for throwing you in the water. That jacket looked really nice.” 

“Thanks, it's my fave. This has survived a couple gallons of margarita mix and every Harley Spill known to man. A trip to the dry cleaners and it’ll be fine. Did not care for the assault on my hair though. Frizz is a death sentence in this city.” Ivy tucked a dripping strand of red hair behind her ear, and made a casual motion with her fingers. Multiple stalks of seaweed burst from the waves and lunged at Raven.

Ivy was a dangerous opponent on land and at sea. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of rustling leaves and shrieking magic. The hell-bent vines and morphing shadows created a twisted thicket over the waves, like an unforgiving swamp that would devour all and nothing returned from it. Raven’s jaw clenched as she tried to keep up with Ivy’s many emerging minions. 

Do not wreck the city. Don't lose control. Don't wreck the city —

Raven could feel Ivy all around her. That was the taxing burden of an empath; making battles not just a physical strain, but an emotional one. The streaks of jade that flew past Raven were connected to their master, mirrors that reflected different fragments of the persona that was Poison Ivy. She'd learned how to block out opponent's emotions over the years, but Ivy's aura was different. Raven noticed...similarities. She wasn't used to that. 

One of Raven’s strikes missed, and kelp curled around her ankle. The inky black waves murmured beneath her, beckoning, whispering sweet promises of confinement and pain. Of all the ways Raven could die, she always abhorred drowning. Most people claimed they saw flashes of their lives when held captive by the waves. She did not look forward to that. 

Just as she felt the icy water against her skin, she squeezed her eyes shut and reached out, pinpointing a location, focusing on the image of that space.

Raven teleported behind Ivy, who was currently staring at the empty spot where Raven was almost consumed by the waves. “What the —”

“Still here.”

“HOLY SHIT —!” Poison Ivy jumped and turned, but the reflexes of her plants were quicker. Wrapping around Raven’s arm, the kelp flung her in another direction. The air whistled by, Raven idly wondering how strong a single stalk of seaweed was. A long silver blur came into view, growing, and growing…

Raven’s eyes widened. That wasn't one of Ivy’s plants. That was a skyscraper. 

Raven caught a quick glimpse of her own shocked face just as she crashed through the glass and landed on a table. The white tablecloth was soft, but it did nothing to mask the hard wooden surface beneath it. A few screams and shouts of surprise rose across the restaurant.

“Bloody hell,” A familiar voice cursed above her. 

Oh crap.

Her eyes snapped open to meet the icy gray ones above her. “For fucks sake, Roth.” 

Constantine huffed as Raven sat up on the table. She sounded like one of his rare broken records as she apologized over and over. “I'm sorry, John! I’m sorry, I'm so sorry — oh, hi Nanaue. I’m sorry for ruining your night.” 

One look across the table, and there sat King Shark. He wore a formal tux that matched their classy surroundings (if someone made superhero suits, perhaps shark tuxedos weren't too far-fetched, Raven mused). Despite Raven’s abrupt arrival, Nanaue smiled warmly at her. 

“Raven, it's so nice of you to drop by! The new uniform reminds me of Howl’s Moving Castle. Speaking of cute wizards, don't you think John looks adorable in this lighting? I told you so!” Nanaue looked over the table of disarray at his flustered date. 

Constantine sighed. “Does it hurt anywhere? Here, use the ice from my water. Kids really are a bother. We’re having a long conversation about this at home.”

“Oh, come on Johnny! What are the odds that Raven would break into this skyscraper and land onto our table?”

“Horrible odds. Damned destiny.” Constantine grunted. “What threw you through the window, love?” 

Raven was about to answer when something wrapped around her throat. She gasped — although it sounded more like a wheeze — feeling the vine tighten. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar (and frizzy) red head of hair.

“Nothing to see here, people. Get on with your meaningless, overpriced lives — oh, Nanaue. Hola,” Poison Ivy casually waved at him from the gaping hole in the glass. Giant vines supported her miles above the ground.

Raven reached out with a wavering hand and gripped her fingers into a fist. A shadowy tendril rushed towards Ivy and squeezed her larynx. 

“Oi, stop choking one another. I'm the only one dating a man here, that's my job.” John remarked, crossing his arms. He muttered a few incantations under his breath. Flames crackled in the air, and the vine around Raven’s throat turned to cinders.

Raven released her hold on Ivy. She coughed into her elbow as Nanaue helped her down from the table.

“You know, I'm surprised you two of all people are fighting. You have so much in common!” Nanaue looked between Raven and Ivy.

“Besides throwing each other like footballs, I don't really see the comparison,” Ivy muttered.

“Nonsense! Both of you are powerful, independent women who prefer an introverted lifestyle,” Nanaue replied. Raven’s gaze traveled back up to Ivy’s, recalling her anti-people comment before the fighting started. The emotional-dump during their battle over the waves provided more merit to Nanaue's statement. 

“Oh, yeah. We both hate people. That automatically makes us friends,” Ivy crossed her arms as the vine she stood on lowered her to the floor. She stood across the table from Raven.

“Add sarcasm to the list of similarities,” Constantine rolled his eyes. Raven was surprised he hadn't pulled out a cigarette yet. Perhaps he was on his best behavior tonight for Nanaue. Raven thought that was considerate on his part. 

“Look, I get that you don't want to work with Robin,” Raven started.

“Because he's a prick? That used to be short and cute but now he’s older and still cute and society won't handle his douchey comments anymore?” 

Constantine looked up at Raven. “She’s not wrong. The Baby Bat’s got a mouth on him.” 

Raven inhaled, swallowing her inner commentary that wanted to defend Damian. “He's not the easiest person to work with. Neither is Batman. They both have issues. But if you're not making any progress with Project Cadmus’ link to ACE Chemicals, maybe you should try to find a solution that ends with fewer explosions around Gotham. Wouldn't that be a smart move for the plants?” 

Ivy was silent for a minute. The emerald shade of her eyes reminded Raven of someone else as those bewitching orbs flit over her. “I’ve never seen you in Gotham before. You don't seem like a layer in the Bat’s Batryoshka dolls.”

“I'm a friend of Robin’s. I don't work here. I visit sometimes,” Raven pressed her lips together. 

“Hmm…” Poison Ivy’s gaze lingered on her a little while longer. Raven couldn’t read her thoughts, but she could feel the emotions swimming around inside Ivy. Doubt, skepticism. Perhaps...tolerance?

“Fine. Here’s my number. If you’re that interested in Cadmus, we’ll meet up and talk it over.” Ivy remarked. One of her vines slithered in from the window as she pulled out her phone. The leafy fixture held the screen before Raven.

“Under one condition.”

Raven looked up one last time and met her icy stare.

“Robin can't know about this.”

Chapter Text

— T I T A N S   T O W E R —

“You don't have to do this,” Raven told Constantine. Raven didn't have many boxes to move in with, but he insisted on helping her carry them. 

“I have some extra time on my hands,” Constantine replied as they climbed the steps to Raven’s old home together.  

When she told Constantine the news about returning to the Titans, it was the most awkward conversation she’d ever had. If it could be called a conversation. They sat in silence for a majority of it; Raven staring at her shoes and Constantine scratching the back of his head. 

“If that's really what you want, love.” He had told her. “You can leave this place anytime. You know that.”

Raven stared at the back of John’s head now. Whatever he felt (if he felt anything at all), he shoved it down, buried to the point where she had trouble deciphering anything. She knew it was rude to prod like this, too, but she couldn't help it. 

Her gaze passed Constantine and studied the skyscraper that loomed before them. Titans Tower was located away from the city, nestled on a small patch of land amidst the ocean. San Francisco’s silhouette shaped the horizon. It could be seen from nearly every window in the Tower. A constant reminder of the Titans’ responsibilities. The view felt like a weight on her shoulders now. 

Between London and Gotham, Raven wasn't used to clear blue skies; the unfamiliar glare of the sun burned into her back. Amidst the ever-present embrace of warmth, she found herself squinting at the brightness blazing across every surface; from pavement, to glass, to sea. Raven thought dryly about the possibilities of bursting into flames on the spot as she approached the four figures standing near the entrance of the Tower.

“Raven!” Kory filled her vision as she leapt forward with a bone-crunching hug. Raven’s hold on her box tightened as she removed an arm to embrace her favorite Tamaranian. The fruity aroma of many conditioner packets that Kory drenched her hair with filled Raven’s nostrils. 

“I missed you, Kory.” Raven meant it as her hold tightened. She didn't expect to feel this relieved...no, this thrilled to see Kory. A new warmth settled beneath Raven’s skin that wasn’t the work of the relentless orb in the sky overhead.

“I'm so glad you’ve returned to us.” 

Raven stiffened when she looked over the tallest Titan’s shoulder. Damian stood with Dick nearby. Raven had healed Damian’s wounds earlier from his run-in with Harley Quinn, so there were no welts or bruises. Both were silent. That wasn't like Dick, especially in Damian’s presence. The source of the silence was probably the towering Kryptonian right next to them. 

“Clark?” Raven reluctantly parted from Kory as she faced him. “Is everything okay?”

“Hey! Everything’s great. Just heard you were moving back in and thought I’d stop by. Need a hand?” Clark Kent’s generosity continued to baffle her as an empath. He relieved her of the cardboard box in her arms. Raven bit down on her lip as the bright crimsons and cobalts of his suit shone in the sun like a beacon. The light seemed more drawn to him than any other object. He was impossible to miss. 

“You don't have to do that, I can teleport them up—” Raven started. 

“Don't worry about it, I got it,” When Clark turned, Constantine blocked his path. 

“Didn't expect to see you here, Constantine,” Clark replied. 

“Hmm,” Constantine’s eyes narrowed at him. “Same to you, Clarky.” 

As the two remained locked in their own staring contest, Dick and Damian appeared at Raven’s side.

“Welcome home, Raven. So...who’s the blond guy that looks like Sting?” Dick whispered.

“That’s Constantine. He’s like Supernatural’s Castiel with Jaime Lannister’s hair and Martin Freeman’s personality.”

“Huh, that makes sense...can you do me?” Dick asked.

“A stereotypical suburban housewife mixed with a gymnastics teacher and every single moron that Dave Ramsay brought to tears.”

“No one asked you, Damian!”

—>*<—

“Where’s this one go?”

“Wherever you can set it down—careful with that one, it holds some enchanted tomes. Thanks,” Raven could feel her face on fire as Clark set down a box on her old desk. She had mentally prepared herself beforehand for whatever response the Titans would have from Constantine’s presence. But Clark’s? The famous Kryptonian that could probably stop a missile by swallowing it? Sure, that was bound to go unnoticed. 

“Is everything alright?” When she looked up, blue eyes that rivaled the clear sky outside filled her vision. Raven blinked, suddenly removed from her reverie. 

“It's fine—it's good,” She corrected herself, which made Clark frown.

Damian had promised to distract the others to give herself some time alone. That would be one of the things she missed the most about John. He didn't hover; Raven never had to smile and act pleased. There was plenty of space in the House of Mystery. Titans Tower was different. The residents cared about one another, and showed it frequently—but sometimes that made privacy impossible.

“I hope I didn't overstep by showing up here. I'm sorry, I should’ve asked first,” Clark replied in a gentle tone.

Raven shook her head, “That's not it.”

She leaned back against the table as she gazed at her old room. There wasn't much dust when she arrived; someone must’ve come in and cleaned. The room was filled with calming hues of violets and blues. Some of Damian’s sketches decorated the walls. Lavender candles emitted a soothing scent as the wax bathed in the all-powerful heat near the windowsill. A music player sat idly in one of the corners, playing whatever song Raven had listened to last. The room itself was comfortable enough. Yet she still felt on edge.

“I’ll admit, I'm not a fan of the spotlight.” She murmured. Clark’s surprise visit certainly didn't help with her desire to not be the center of attention. 

“Really? I wouldn't have guessed,” Clark mused, leaning on the desk next to her. 

“You didn't expect John to be here, and neither did I.”

“I don't think that's true...it means he cares about you. I think he’ll miss you a lot.”

“I'm nothing to John Constantine.” Raven said. She glanced into the box behind them and propped it open. It was mostly books; some were spellbooks, others just some she accumulated from cute bookstores in London. The signature aroma of the House of Mystery (which was mostly the smell of Constantine’s cigarettes) clung to the belongings. Tucked against the side was a stash of photos held together with a rubber band. When she inspected the cache closer, she recognized a selfie that she had taken with a drunk John at her first pub. 

“It must be hard. I can tell you already miss him too,” Clark said quietly. 

Clark's back straightened as he stood upright. He placed a hand on Raven’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn't much help with avoiding the spotlight. Maybe I can catch you a break later.”

Raven gave Clark a quizzical look, but he simply winked. “I already talked it over with Dick, don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay...thanks, Clark.”

One second Clark stood there, smiling. The next he was gone. Raven sighed in the empty room. 

“I think that's everything, love.” Constantine leaned against the doorframe, hands tucked behind his back. 

Raven nodded, casting another look around the half-made room. Constantine huffed as he pointed to an object, “Not going to miss that. Thing of nightmares.” 

She followed his gaze to a soft, fluffy object. “It's a Totoro plushie, John.”

“Do you see the smile on that thing? It's a bloody beast.” Constantine shuddered at the beloved children’s character and internet idol in plush form. 

“It's cute.”

“For a self-proclaimed ‘grown woman,’ you've got a lot of stuffed animals.” He gestured at the small pile on her bed. 

“It's good security.” Raven wasn't lying, technically. Living with John might’ve been comfortable, but not the safest when it came to magical threats. It was his idea to enchant and imbue objects with power to guard her from evil entities. And if the enchanted plushies also made John avoid her room and personal belongings, that was an added bonus...or it used to be, anyway. 

“They didn't keep the Baby Bat out.” John mumbled. 

Raven didn't answer that. Her fingers caressed the ears of a stuffed bunny wearing a mustache. Damian had won it when they visited a fair together in Gotham. She hadn't told him about Poison Ivy’s offer yet. Raven knew he wouldn't like it, but she preferred to tell him and endure his criticism than keep a secret from him. 

“Well, I should be heading back to the house...make sure the kitchen doesn't burst into flames from old Calcifer living in the oven.” Constantine replied. 

“If you fixed the oven, you wouldn't have to bind a fire demon to the house. But...you’re free to hang around here, if you want,” The offer flew from Raven’s lips.

“Tempting. But Ivy wasn't wrong about the Batryoshka dolls; they stack up. I’ll be off, but first…” Constantine removed his hands from his back, revealing a package. Raven’s eyes widened at the fancy box topped with an elegantly tied bow.

“This is for you,” He said, holding it out in the space between them.

“The wrapping is beautiful. I think I’ll keep the box,” Raven handled the present like it was full of a million fragile diamonds plucked from the sky. Feathers flit by in exotic designs and magnificent hues of blue across the container. She set it down, tugging lightly on the string as the bow fell apart. When she removed the lid, her throat closed up.

Raven held up the piece of fabric. It was a trench coat. Just like John’s, except it was obsidian. One touch revealed it was softer than satin and smooth as silk.

“You always complain about being cold, and I won’t be around as much for you to steal my coat anymore…” John shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes remained fixed on the garment in her hands.

“It's nice. I love it,” Raven’s voice was a lot smaller than she anticipated. She swallowed, but there was a lump in her throat that made the action hurt. 

“It should be the right size,” He said. “Here, try it on.”

Constantine held the coat aloft as she turned and slipped her arms into the sleeves. He helped her straighten the clothing on her shoulders. 

“How’s it feel?” He asked.

“Perfect fit.” Her eyes started to sting.

Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry. It's dangerous to cry. Do not ruin this moment. Do not ruin it—

“You have my number if anything comes up. If you change your mind about things, door’s always open. No one’s touching your room in the House of Mystery. Don't wanna piss off the stuff of nightmares,” John bobbed his head in the direction of the Totoro plushie. 

“Thank you, John. For everything.” She said. They stood together awkwardly for a moment. There was no embrace, no handshake. Raven tried to communicate everything by staring into his eyes, but she was afraid that would be too much. 

Without another word, John ducked out of the room. Later, Raven released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She dabbed at her cheek with the sleeve of the new trench coat. 

Music continued to play in the background softly.

Chapter Text

Damian knocked on the open door with a grave expression. “It’s time.”

Raven looked away from the newly-formed collage of photos. They were taped to the wall space above her desk; a shrine commemorating her two year's absence. “My suffering is about to begin?”

“Something like that.” Damian held out his hand to her. Raven smiled as she took it. The contact was brief, yet her fingers strangely tingled like she had stuck them in electrical sockets.

“So...what's the procedure? Throw me into Mount Doom or sacrifice Gar first?”

“If we’re making Lord of the Rings references, the Bat Signal counts as the Dark Tower with the all-seeing eye.”

“So Gotham is Mordor now?” Raven mused as they walked down the corridor together. She never regretted making him watch that trilogy. Nor when he insisted on watching the prequel series with her, or reading the books—as ‘payback,’ of course. 

“Why not? People already refer to it as hell on earth. Some of the residents would make liable candidates for Gollum,” Damian replied as they turned a corner.

 “I nominate Two-Face.” 

“I’ve seen Joker hold an entire conversation with himself. But Drake is definitely more gruesome-looking.” 

Raven laughed. The sound died in her throat when the walls gave way to the living room. All of the Titans had gathered together before the ivory, half-moon shaped couch. But as she studied them, she recognized the shock on the now-matured faces of her friends.

“So you laugh now…? That's cool,” Beast Boy was gaping slightly, wearing the same mystified look that usually adorned his features when watching the Jurassic Park series. Blue Beetle’s face mirrored his. The sizzling sparklers they carried became forgotten entities held at off angles. 

Dick recovered first. “We’re really glad you’re back, Raven.” 

“Thanks, this is really thoughtful of you all,” Raven left the corridor behind and accepted another tight hug from Kory. A banner softly sighed above them, covered in large print that read, ‘ WELCOME HOME RAVEN’.  

When they broke apart, Kory led her to the heart of the room, “Do you like it?” 

Despite being the home of many teenagers, a sultry sweet scent dominated the air. This anomaly was most likely due to the most exquisite pile of junk food Raven had ever seen on the coffee table. Cotton and rock candy stalks poked out of glass vases, a vibrant contrast of crimson crystalline and wispy ebony. Red velvet macarons lay atop a canvas of dark, gooey fudge. Off to the side, someone (probably Gar) had spelled ‘NEVERMORE’ out of m&ms. 

“You didn't spare any expense…” Her eyes widened. The sunset had peeked through the glass walls, bathing the feast before her in a golden glow. 

“Here’s a spoon, but given how much your pupils dilated when you entered the room, I can get you a shovel,” Dick offered as he handed her a plate with utensils. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Everyone gathered around on the sofa, sweets and stories filling the room. Raven sat next to Damian near the edge with Titus the great dane, who licked at her fingers every time she petted him. 

She was informed of Jaime and Gar’s pillow/blanket fort wars, which had nearly torn the Tower apart. Donna and Dick recently started a program to teach the homeless women of San Francisco self defense. Kory shared photos of a Comic Con that Gar had dragged everyone to where she pulled off an authentic X-Files couples costume with Dick. Story after story, Raven was reminded of how much the Titans did together...like a family. 

“So when you left Themyscira...why didn't you come back?” Donna Troy finally asked. An inky black waterfall of luscious curls tumbling down her back as she leaned forward to meet Raven’s gaze. Raven could feel the sudden scrutiny of everyone intensify on her, sharp and adamant like needles. 

“The Amazons dropped me off in London for some reason. I was planning to come back then, but I ran into John.” She said simply.

“What have you and John been doing for the past year…? What kinds of missions do you go on together?” Kory’s face was lit up with curiosity, aside from her lips stained charcoal and ruby-red from the delicacies.

Raven shrugged away memories before they could resurface. Her time with Constantine didn't consist of something as uniform as missions. Pursuing anomalies and fixing the fabric of the physical plane with the dark arts (and occasional exorcisms) was a more accurate description. The less that the Titans knew of John Constantine’s work, the safer they were. “Just magic stuff. It’s not as interesting as it sounds. I'm gonna go wash my hands.”

She politely excused herself and retreated to the safety of the kitchen before the onslaught of questions continued. Raven felt like she was on a sugar high—emotionally, not just physically. The exhilaration of being around everyone provided her with so much energy that goosebumps riddled her arms. But she wasn't used to gatherings like this, not for a long time. It would wear her out soon enough. 

“I was waiting for when you’d escape their clutches,” Dick mused as he joined her at the counter.

She sighed silently, “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really. But it's suddenly become much easier to read you than before,” Dick admitted, his melodic tenor lowering so only Raven could hear. 

Raven decided to throw a Damian-esque response at him. “Elaborate.” 

Dick chuckled. "That. That’s what I'm talking about.”

“The sarcasm? I’m a frequent user; it’s the only thing that makes my life tolerable.” 

“You are very gifted when it comes to that department. But that's not exactly what I meant…” Dick leaned his elbow on the gray granite as he searched for the right words. “You’re more...emotional than you were before.”

Raven’s hands hovered in midair beneath the steady stream of water from the faucet. A few water droplets had trickled past her wrist and down her forearm. No one had ever described her as emotional before.

“Is that...a bad thing?” Raven turned the faucet off. She dried her hands with intense focus to avoid Dick’s stare. The awe in his voice drew her back to him. 

“Are you kidding? It's a great thing. I’ve never seen you so comfortable in your own skin, or...ever. I don't know what you or that Constantine guy did, but you seem more at ease. I'm really proud of you, Rachel.”  Dick said softly. 

Raven’s hand movements slowed once again. If Dick was right and she really was more...emotional, what was the cause? Was it Constantine’s devil-may-care attitude? Was it her own gift of independence that she had utilized? Was it both, or something else? Regardless, Dick’s speech echoed in her head, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe—she had done the right thing. 

“Oh, don't look now. We’ve got some party crashers,” Raven followed Dick’s gaze back to the corridor. Two figures stood at the gaping entrance. One was so tall she almost mistook him for Clark. 

“Victor, Billy. Long time no see. Got tired of hangin’ with the A-listers?” Dick grinned at Cyborg and Shazam, members of the famous Justice League. 

“Whenever I miss the simple life, I come to you, Grayson.” Victor laughed as the pair joined them in the kitchen. With each step Victor took, metal gears clicked along his inhuman form. Iconically, the “new car” smell always clung to him. 

“You left me alone with them,” A voice murmured in Raven’s ear. 

Raven jumped; it was a wonder her powers hadn't taken her surprise out on the kitchen. The Batryoshka dolls theory was becoming more probable; Damian was now standing right next to her, without his usual four-legged companion.

“Sorry. Where’s Titus…?” She asked.

“He sacrificed himself so I could escape,” Damian jutted out his chin in the direction of the sofa. Titus was currently drowning in attention as the other members took turns giving him a belly rub. 

“So brave.” said Raven. 

Dick bumped fists with Billy and brought Vic in for a one-armed hug. “Hey, man. Welcome back, Rachel. Heard the man in blue was spotted here and thought we’d stop by—plus it makes me feel better when Billy hangs out with people his age.”

Billy Batson (who Raven recently learned had become close to the Teen Titans in her absence) held up a finger, “The only reason I’m letting the age comment slide is because I can't take another debate on laundry detergent between Hal and Barry.”

Billy’s gaze shifted over to her. “I didn't know your name was Rachel, though. That’s my mom’s name.” 

Damian's utter was so low Raven barely heard him, “The Martha paradigm continues…”

Dick idly scratched the back of his head. “Clark was over earlier, but he said he’d be back. You’re welcome to hang around, see if you can catch him.”

“Thanks, man…” Victor trailed off, catching sight of the coffee table buried under junk food. “That's the largest pile of diabetes I've ever seen. We’re lucky Barry’s not here.”

Billy released a low whistle, “Woah. And I thought candy cigarettes were as good as it gets.”

Barry. Barry Allen. Flashpoint Theory.

Something clicked in Raven’s brain. Victor was a member of the Justice League; so was the Flash. Victor’s father was also a well-known scientist at S.T.A.R. labs. Perhaps Victor knew more about the concept…?

“Have you run into Barry lately?” She asked him. 

“Everyone’s always running into him,” Victor replied. “Why do you ask, Raven?”

The sofa nearby buzzed with excited chatter as Billy perused the Pile of Diabetes. Raven didn't know how long she’d have Victor’s attention—or the privacy she so desperately needed to ask her questions. 

“Do you work on projects together? Scientifically, I mean,” Raven pressed the tips of her index fingers together.

“Sometimes. We both interact with different sectors of S.T.A.R. labs, so—thanks,” Victor accepted a glossy red strip of rock candy from Dick. “What about it?” 

“Did he ever speak with you about the Flashpoint Theory?”

Victor paused. The faraway realm of the sofa was filled with distracting laughter; Gar had morphed into a gorilla and held Billy aloft in the iconic Simba pose. Raven felt the weight of Damian’s gaze upon her as she waited.

“Yeah,” Victor finally replied, nodding to himself. “Yeah, he did. I’ll admit, not too much, but—”

Victor trailed off as another pair of footsteps echoed across the room. The sofa had gone quiet. Whatever it was, it was powerful enough to stun everyone into spellbound silence. 

Raven looked across the room and met a pair of steel gray eyes. He was slender with dark hair; he had more in common with a shadow in appearance, but wasn't so easily overlooked. Something about him drew attention, and it had nothing to do with the crimson ‘S’ etched upon a canvas of black. 

“Hey, gang,” Clark gestured at the tall stranger, “this is Conner.”

Chapter Text

“Oh! Is that the new member?” Kory shot up from the couch and floated over to Conner’s side. “We’re so happy that you’re joining us, Kon-el. I’m Kory, this is Dick.” 

“Woah woah woah, wait; new member?” Jaime and Gar exchanged glances. 

“Clark came by earlier and we talked it over. We’re glad you came, Conner,” Dick clapped a hand on Conner’s shoulder. 

“Thanks, man,” Conner’s steel grey eyes lingered on the banner tacked to the walls. Something about his eyes stood out to Raven; he had so many characteristics of Clark, aside from the eyes. They weren't the same overwhelming blue. Or was it a trick-of-the-light sort of thing? 

“Who’s Raven?” Conner asked. 

“That’s me. Hi,” Raven offered him her hand, “I guess we’re both new, kind of.” 

Conner grasped her hand in a tight grip, but not an uncomfortable one. He flashed her a kind, innocent smile, “Sorry for crashing your party.”

“Don't apologize. I don't mind.” But if he had given her just thirty more seconds with Victor…

“Bats is gonna be so pissed,” Victor muttered through closed teeth.

“What does father have to do with this?” Damian's eyes narrowed.

“Long story...Supes is in trouble,” Victor’s voice took on a sing-song quality. 

“Vic, I have advanced hearing.” Clark crossed his arms. 

“Good. You could use a warning…”

Raven studied Conner and Clark, and realized the pair hadn't looked at each other since they entered the room. Clark was more stiff than the last few times she had seen him. Even without her empathic powers, it was evident that something was off between the two of them. 

Conner noticed Titus glued to Damian’s side. He crouched down and presented a hand to the great dane. In minutes Titus was rubbing his nose up against him, tail wagging enthusiastically. 

“Nice dog.”

“Thanks,” Damian answered, kneeling to join them. 

“I think we’ll get along just fine.” Conner replied.

“How very optimistic of you.” 

—>*<—

The morning after the party, Raven stood before the door to Damian’s room, hand poised to knock. He had to know. He deserved to know. Raven refused to keep anything from him.

The door opened before her, her fist still hovering in midair. Raven lowered it slowly as she met Damian’s gaze.

“Hi.”

“Hey. I could see your shadow underneath the door. What’s wrong?” 

Curt and to the point; that was Damian. Raven squared her shoulders, mentally preparing herself for whatever reaction she would be met with. “We need to talk. Can I come in?” 

Without a word, Damian wedged the door open wider. The scent of incense hit Raven like a wave as she entered. He must’ve been meditating this morning; something else she’d introduced to Damian. 

The walls gleamed with rows of katanas, blades of white bathed in rays of the San Francisco sun. A dog bed and some squeaky toys were nestled in the corner for Titus. Damian still preferred a mat over a mattress, and a stuffed penguin sat in the center of the well-made bed; another token from their visit to the Gotham fair. 

“Have you eaten yet today?” Damian asked as she leaned against the desk where his Wayne-brand laptop sat idle. 

“Yes. Still recovering from yesterday’s sugar crash, you?”

“The same,” Instead of taking the chair in front of the desk, Damian stood before her. He’d gotten so much taller over the years. Jason and Tim’s comments about his height had fallen flat (pun partially intended). It wasn't hard to peg the most stunning bachelor of Gotham; beautiful bronze skin, flawless features that could’ve been chiseled into ancient marble, a bewitching emerald gaze that sent shivers down anyone’s spine with its intensity. Everything about Damian screamed intimidating. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asked. 

“I wanted to tell you about this sooner, but this isn't just something I can text or say in passing. It's been hard to find the time with the move-in...and I wasn't considering it until recently.” Raven admitted. 

“Considering what?”

Raven inhaled sharply, “When I was fighting Poison Ivy, she made me an offer to discuss Project Cadmus’ involvement with ACE Chemicals. I think I should meet up with her and hear her out.” 

Damian brooded silently. Despite his intensity, she held his gaze. 

“Alright.” He finally said. 

Raven’s jaw dropped. Of all the responses she imagined, that’s all he had to say? Alright? Was that even a word in Damian Wayne’s vocabulary? She didn't think so until today. 

“...That's it?” She continued to stare at his hard features. “That is the most fake response I have ever heard you give.” 

“I'm sorry my reaction doesn’t exceed your expectations.” He said flatly.

They continued to stare at each other. Raven was baffled; Damian never held back when it came to his opinion. A safety lecture, a warning at the very least—something. 

“There’s something else.” She said. 

“...What?” 

“There’s more—there’s something else you’re not telling me. I'm an empath; that doesn't just slip off the radar. Especially not…” You. She trailed off as he raised an eyebrow at her. She was more in tune to him than everyone else. What was Damian keeping from her? 

“Fine. I don't like the idea,” He admitted, crossing his arms. “She’s a criminal. You can't trust criminals. Do you know why I protested my father’s relationship with Selina Kyle for so long…?”

Damian leaned in close. His hot breath fanned against her cheeks. “I didn't want him to get hurt. Because that's what criminals do, Raven: in some shape or form, they hurt people. And the thought of someone hurting you…”

Raven’s heartbeat thundered in her ears. Damian was so close, the heat of his body making her skin tingle. 

“Anyone can hurt anyone, Damian.” She muttered.

“But the percentage is higher with them. Gotham criminals are different: they hurt others because someone hurt them.” He pointed out. “As an empath, are you sure that’s something you want to be involved with?”

Raven deliberated for a moment. She had thought over her own reasons for meeting Ivy previously, and in actuality, they were very very selfish. Of course, Raven grew attached when visiting Gotham so many times during her stay with Constantine. But there was a more specific excuse for why she treated the city like a sacred shrine—aside from the reason standing before her… 

“Yes.” she nodded, but her mind was straying to the start of their conversation. Why did he say ‘alright’? It wasn't like him to hold back. 

“You know I value your opinion, Damian.” Raven recalled their conversation in the Batmobile, which felt like it had occurred much longer than a few days ago after recent events. “Why try to keep it from me…?”

“I told you that I respected your decisions.” Damian replied.

“And how is ignoring your opinion being respectful to you…? That doesn't make sense,” Raven paused. Her mind was still trying to assess why he would refrain from telling her anything. Unless…

He thinks I’ll lose control if I don't like it?

She didn't want to believe it. She looked him up and down, as if the answer was written clear on him, somewhere. 

“Do you think I’ll lose control if I hear something I don't want to?” Raven asked him. Her voice was softer now. Afraid of being heard, and hearing his response. 

His expression blanked. She had caught him off guard. When Damian continued, it was in a level tone that was gentler than the one he usually used, “If I truly doubted your willpower, would I be standing here, conversing with you right now?” 

Her willpower...? Raven was certainly more emotional than she normally was, willpower or not. It happened more often around Damian than the others. But now they were in the same living quarters. She would see him all the time.

I never lost control around Damian before. Sometimes it actually feels...calm, emotionally, to be around him. But things are different now. It feels more...intense lately. Dick claims I'm more emotional...how does that impact my willpower?

Raven did not want to find out. Especially in Damian’s presence.

“I need a minute,” She croaked out the words before fleeing the room. 

—>*<—

Raven considered leaving the Tower (or perhaps the city), but she didn't want to raise the Titans’ alarm. In an effort to distract herself, Raven retired to the living room in order to drown out her thoughts with television. She stumbled upon a film from the nineties that played good music and kept it on. Raven preferred books, but she felt the need for something more immersive and loud. Something to drown out the guilt that was slowly building.

What if I had hurt him…? It's always a possibility, even after all this time.

Before sitting down, she ransacked the kitchen for something that had a decent amount of sugar...which turned out to be the worst detective game ever.

Raven flit through drawers (most of which were rearranged since she was last here), scanned the pantry, peered into the fridge for a good five minutes. Everything was sports drinks, protein powders, and tofu. She’d forgotten about Dick and Gar’s dedication to their diets. 

“Come on,” Raven huffed as she started inspecting the cabinets. She was beginning to think that last night’s party was a hallucination. There had to be something chocolate-related in this tower; Kory lived here too. She had to have a secret stash...but where would she…?

“Ah.” Raven craned her neck as she examined the cabinet before her. There was a massive jar of Nutella on the top shelf. Jackpot. 

She leaned up on her tiptoes, which didn't even bring her close to the shelf below it. Why did Tamaranians have to be so tall? And who designed these cabinets? 

Raven spared another glance back at the living room. The movie still played. No one was here, surprisingly. But that could change in an instant. Unless she moved quickly.

Raven lifted herself to where she was sitting on the counter. She picked up her knees, and slowly rose until she was eye level with the jar of Nutella. 

“Uh...do you need some help?”

Crap. She’d been discovered. Raven glanced down to see her witness…

Conner’s grey eyes stared up at her, standing on the counter.

“I-I’m okay, I just need to get down—oh!” Conner’s arms wrapped around her waist as he picked her up and set her down on the tile. He was a lot stronger than he looked.

“Thanks,”  Raven clutched the nutella to her chest, thoughts scattered from being caught in the act. Her face burned like someone had struck a match across her cheeks. “Let’s...keep what just happened between us.”

Conner nodded. “Sure. What is that?”

Raven looked down at her winnings. Then at the new Titan’s confused face. “You don't know what Nutella is?” 

“No...should I?”

Raven shrugged. “It’s like chocolate made to go on anything, but is acceptable as somewhat healthy and still tastes good by itself. Want some?” 

Conner nodded and helped her prepare the snacks. As he found two bowls in one of the cabinets, Raven gathered some apple slices and pretzel sticks. She formed a smiley face out of the condiments as she sprinkled them on top of Conner’s nutella. 

“What’s this?” Conner shot a quizzical look at the television as they sat together on the sofa. A couple raced through an empty store on roller skates across the screen.

“It’s a movie called Career Opportunities. Came out in the nineties,” Raven clicked through the information with the remote. 

“Huh. Like his hair,” Conner bobbed his head at the actor Frank Whaley. A long tuft of hair curled down and caressed the actor’s forehead. 

Conner glanced down at his bowl, mirroring the smile that stared back at him. 

“Are you settling in okay?” Raven asked politely. 

“Yeah...I was hoping to talk to you about something though.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed. Both of them were new members, sort of. It was probably something along those lines. “What's on your mind?”

“I heard you mention Project Cadmus earlier…” Raven’s attention was yanked away from the delicious heap of nutella before her by Conner’s words. “sorry, I wasn't eavesdropping on purpose, it's the advanced hearing…”

Raven’s face flared up again. She wasn't a really loud person, but her time with Constantine made her fully accustomed to music. Music was helpful in drowning out certain...voices. Things she didn't want to hear in her head.

“I was playing music last night in my room, I hope that doesn't bother you—” she started.

“Actually, I like your music. It's nice,” Conner replied. “You’ve got good taste.”

“Oh...thanks.” 

“But if you’re looking into Project Cadmus, maybe we could...team up or something.” Conner offered, his smile weakening at the mention of the scientific program. 

“If you’re interested...may I ask why?” Raven peeked over the rim of her bowl at him. 

Conner paused. “Because...they made me. I woke up in their lab three days ago.”

Chapter Text

— G O T H A M —

“Harls is going to adore the hat we picked out for her,” Poison Ivy peeked into a plastic bag with a smile.

Raven matched her companion's casual stride. The sidewalk stretched on ahead, speckled with only a few rain droplets. She peeked out from under her hat at the sky; it was a dull gray, and wasn't rumbling yet. As far as Gotham weather went, today was fairly pleasant. 

Raven had agreed to Ivy’s proposal, and the two had met up. Coincidentally, they were both wearing wide-brimmed hats. Quick banter led to a short detour browsing Gotham shop windows—until they stumbled upon the perfect gift for the missing party.

“What are the odds we would find one that was red and had a black bow?” Raven mused. 

“No idea. This was perfect timing, Harls is super into the couple-matching stuff lately,” Ivy paused, sending a side-glance at Raven, “do you and Robin ever…?”

“No. It's not like that,” Raven said. She’d been avoiding Damian for the past few days (it turned out to be extremely difficult to avoid someone who was raised by ninjas). She wasn't going near him until she found out more about how her newly-bred emotions affected her. Just the thought of him ripped open the gaping pit in her stomach. 

“Oh,” to Raven’s relief, Ivy didn't prod further. “Anyways, thanks for doing this hat stuff with me. I know a juice place nearby, how about we grab smoothies or something and talk over Cadmus?”

“Sounds good,” Raven nodded. Their meeting became a lot more relevant after Conner’s confession. Raven hadn’t pressed him at the time, but the coincidence did not go unnoticed. 

Raven and Ivy paused in front of a small shop decorated with vines and potted plants. Bubbles billowed out of a hidden machine and floated out amongst traffic. Tendrils of melodic sound hummed out of fake rock speakers.

“Poison Chai…?” Raven read the sign tacked above the doorway.

“The environmentalists love me here. At first it was creepy, but they’re completely eco-friendly. They took down the Jamba Juice across the street...they’re kind of badasses.” Ivy shrugged.

“Cool.” When Raven pulled on the door, the scent of herbs delicately wafted to her nostrils. Every table that didn't have a pot of flowers was decorated with a miniature, portable water fountain for relieving stress. 

“Looks like you’re pretty popular,” said Raven. Most of the tables were filled, yet the overall volume wasn't deafening. The baristas behind the counter waved at Ivy in the doorway. 

“Not a fan of the attention, but it's pretty hard to pass up free smoothies,” said Ivy. “I’ve heard Tim Drake’s a regular here. They have a table in the corner usually reserved for him. He’s asleep every time I see him…must work long hours.”

“Hmm, that sounds like him...” Raven glanced around and, sure enough, Damian’s dark-haired brother was drooling amidst a valley of empty coffee cups. 

Raven stood before the counter with Ivy. Her eyes lingered on the chalkboard above. Every drink was either organic or some vegan/vegetarian concoction.

Hmm. Beast Boy would like this place.

“Hey, can I get my usual, please…? See anything that looks good?” Ivy looked over at her. When Raven finally made a decision, she nodded, her gaze falling upon the cashier—

Clark Kent stood before her, in glasses and a dark green apron. 

“Hi there, your hats look adorable. I recommend the Venus Fly Trap, it's delish with strawberry boba,” Clark said.

Raven froze. Her order fled her mind. Ivy still stood next to her, unaware that Superman was taking their order. Raven didn't want to imagine the outcome if the secret got out. 

Raven blinked a few times as she tried to retain her composure, “I think I need a minute. How about you pick out a table?” 

“Sure thing,” Ivy was swiftly out of earshot. It was just the two of them.

“Are you stalking me, Clark?” Raven hissed, leaning up against the counter as she lowered her voice.

“What? No! I’m not Edward Cullening you, either…”

When Raven’s eyebrow arched at him, he sighed. “Okay, I got laid off from the Daily Planet. That’s why I had the time to visit you in London and help you move in the other day—”

“And to rescue Conner from Cadmus?” Raven said. Clark grimaced. 

“How did you get laid off?” Raven demanded.

“I work for a newspaper company.” 

“But why did you lose your job?” 

“...I work for a newspaper company.” Clark repeated, a little more sullen than before.

Raven sensed someone enter the line behind her. And she didn't want to raise Ivy’s concern. Raven took a step back from the counter and cleared her throat. 

“This isn't over,” She warned Clark.

“Sure, sure. Still want the Venus Fly Trap?”

“Yes, please.”

“With the strawberry pearls?” 

“Duh.” 

Raven tossed a few dollars into the tip jar and scanned the room to find Ivy. She was a table away from Tim Drake, who used his folded-up hoodie as a pillow.

“Sorry about that,” Raven took the seat across from the redheaded eco-terrorist (she preferred that title over ‘supervillain’).

“Do you...know that guy?” Ivy pointed at Clark.

Raven nodded, and fully aware of his hearing abilities, said, “Yes. Not by choice.”

“Ah. My condolences.” 

“...Actually, he’s pretty nice. I’m glad I ran into him,” Raven admitted, reminding herself that Clark had just lost his job. It was wrong to kick him when he was down.

Ivy scooted her chair closer to the table. It was a cute mint green table set with plum flower-printed pillows. For something so lawn furniture-esque, it was comfortable. 

“So...about Cadmus. Whatever is said at this table stays between us,” Ivy said. Her voice was usually lower than most, nearly monotone, and it became huskier when she whispered. 

“Robin will not interfere.” Raven could promise that much. 

A stern expression overtook Ivy’s face. She pulled out her phone, eyes flitting over the screen. Raven gently pushed the centerpiece of flowers out of the way as Ivy placed the screen between them. 

“Nanaue’s great with tech and managed to get some of these images by hacking into ACE Chemicals’ security system,” Ivy murmured.

Raven studied the image before her. Large test tubes stood aloft with matter swirling in them. As she softly swiped the screen, studying photo after photo, the floating substance became more discernible.

“Those look...human.” Raven’s fingers zoomed in on what was structured very similarly to a face. 

“I used to be a biochemist. We’ve been trying to get some samples so I can investigate this shady shit further. Harls has her theories, I have mine. But we can both agree on one thing,” Ivy inhaled sharply. “Project Cadmus is making clones.”

Tim groaned one table over, “No, Dick...don’t make Damian a grilled cheese...you don't feed gremlins after midnight…”

Raven ignored Tim’s sleepy ramblings. “Clones?” 

“Uhuh, don't know what they’re for, or who they’re cloned from—” Ivy’s lips pressed together as Clark approached them with their drinks. Raven turned off Ivy’s phone and slid it back to her. 

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies. Here’s your order, on the house, and I also snagged some sugar packets in case you have a sweet tooth.” Clark looked directly at Raven as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and dropped a massive pile of light-pink sugar packets on the table.

“What the fu—” Ivy scooted backwards as the mountain of sugar packets shifted.

“Thank you,” said Raven.

“It’s my pleasure.” Clark placed his hands on his hips. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“I don't wanna go to bed, Alfred...Jason’s going to draw on my face,” Tim mumbled into his elbow.

“That's all, thanks.”

Clark waded through the sea of tables back to the counter. When Raven’s attention returned to Ivy, she already found the redhead staring at her. 

“You don't react very much,” Ivy said. 

“That is the general consensus,” Raven agreed.

Ivy’s jaded fingers thrummed along the edge of the table. Raven felt her companion’s emotions shift along with her unknown thoughts. 

“Harls pointed that out. She said you were really reserved. I don't consider myself a people person, but even I notice it now,” Ivy said. She leaned forward once more, “You were holding back during our fight. You could’ve kicked my ass.”

Raven began fiddling with one of the paper straws that Clark had left on the table. She mumbled, “Control of my abilities doesn't come as...fluently as yours.”

It felt like she’d tried everything. Music, meditation, half of the items in the room that they currently sat in. For as long as Raven could remember, emotions were fleeting, little meteors shooting across a sky of eternal night. Anger, pain, happiness, excitement—all buried beneath a repressive cloak of darkness, forbidden to crash or collide. Was that her fate? A life of constant regulation? Was she simply stardust flitting throughout the icy cosmos, alone and numb, concealed from sunlight or somber moon rays? 

Under Ivy’s unspoken veil of curiosity, Raven allowed one of those blazing diamonds to shine across the black heavens—just for a breath. She forced out stubborn words that had been entombed, “My mom was from Gotham...I didn’t feel like wrecking the city.”

Raven hadn't been able to meet Ivy’s gaze when she spoke. When she choked out the words, she looked up at the emerald face before. Ivy’s expression was strangely impassive. Silence stretched between them. 

“You know,” when Ivy spoke again, her voice was hoarse, “I’m aware that everyone thinks this city is literal hell on earth, and most of the time it is. But I still like it. All of the weird, insane chaos that goes on is just...normal here. There’s almost something calming or poetic about it.”

Raven nodded. The two sat together for a long time.

Until Tim called out in his stupor, “EVERYONE’S TIRED OF YOUR CUCUMBER SANDWICHES, ALFRED!” and Clark screamed as he dropped a bunch of dishes that shattered on the ground. And thus, Clark Kent returned to unemployment.

Chapter Text

*-**    ---    ***-    *            **  ***         *    ***-    **    *-** 

If only you knew my dear, how I live my life in fear

Rachel Roth: I am nothing to John Constantine. 

Rachel Roth: I am nothing to John Constantine.

“Fathers are kind. Fathers protect you. Fathers raise you…!” 

His hand squeezed hers as they raced down the corridor. The grumble of the roller skates echoed on the walls, almost as loud as their laughter. 

“Thus it appeared, I say, but was not. It was my antagonist—it was Wilson, who then stood before me in the agonies of his dissolution. His mask and cloak lay, where he had thrown them, upon the floor. Not a thread in all his raiment—not a line in all the marked and singular lineaments of his face which was not, even in the most absolute identity, mine own!” - “William Wilson”

-**    ---    -*    -             -    *-*    **-    ***    -              *-**    **-    -    ****   ---   *-*

Built with a heart, broken from the start, and now I die slow,

Harley Quinn: Howdy Raven’s brain! We’re here to do some spring cleaning! 

His breath tickled her ear as he read, “—the skin rivaling the purest ivory —” his fingers caressed her bare shoulder, “— and then the raven-black, the glossy, the luxuriant and naturally-curling tresses ,” his touch travelled upward, and she shivered against him at the slightest stroke to the dark strands, “—I regarded the sweet mouth. Here was indeed the triumph of all things heavenly—” his fingers glided against her jawline, and she felt herself compelled to turn towards him, like his voice and touch emitted their own gravitational force, “—the magnificent turn of the short upper lip—the soft, voluptuous slumber of the under—” his breath was hot, searing her mouth, just mere inches away, “—and here, too, I found the gentleness of breadth, the softness and the majesty, the fullness and the spirituality, of the Greek,” The vibration of every word that left his mouth resonated against her lips. 

The Comedian smiled. 

“You’re hired. Don't mess this up,” Luthor quipped, “I don't say this often...but for some reason...I have a good feeling about you.” 

-**    *-    *-*    -*-    ***    **    *    -**             **    ***          *--    *-    -    -*-*    ****    **    -*   --* 

I took a broken heart and made it beat,

Time had stopped. All motion ceased. She was trapped in an endless abyss. Desolate. Silent. 

Goliath roared. 

John Constantine: This is the most dangerous place to visit, love.

Poison Ivy: Instead of always trying to make the right decision, maybe you should make the decision best for you. 

“Rachel, I am in love with you.”

“A lot of us think of love as positive and fear as negative but the truth is there are positives found within fear and negatives found in love. One of the things I struggled with in the past was letting fear get in the way of love. Love scared me so much." - M

-  ****  *   -*--             *--   **  *-**   *-**         *-*   * --   *   --   -***  *   *-*

Chapter Text

— T I T A N S   T O W E R —

Azarath metrion zinthos. 

She focused on the lapping of the waves. The burn of the newborn sun as it slowly rose from the horizon. Every inhale was salty.

Azarath metrion zinthos.

Raven sought to preserve some increment of tranquility with those three simple words. The mantra silenced all other intruding thoughts. She hoped to hold onto this moment of peace for the rest of the day.

Azarath metrion—

She felt a presence behind her.

Raven’s eyes snapped open, returning to reality as someone appeared on the rocky shore. 

“May I join you?” Damian said. His forehead glistened with sweat in the morning sun. He must’ve finished his early run with Dick recently.

Raven nodded, floating back down to the rocks as he took a seat next to her. 

“Not running this time?” Damian mused.

She winced. “I’m sorry about that. And for what I said before. I shouldn't have gone after you like that.” 

“Raven, I have three brothers.” He said. 

“That's no excuse,” Raven sighed. She fumbled with her fingers, glowing gold from the last vibrant rays of the sunrise. “Why didn't you want to tell me your thoughts on meeting with Ivy?” 

“I didn't want to hurt your feelings.” Damian frowned. “Which happened regardless. I apologize for that. But your intellect is sharp enough to know my response wouldn't be pleasant. Why inform me of Ivy’s offer in the first place?”

She shook her head. “I didn't want to keep secrets from you.” 

The air around them seemed to right itself, losing it's tension and filling with the usual warmth Raven felt from Damian’s presence. It was nice. The waves, and the sobering sunrise, and Damian. She hadn't realized it until now, but the past few days without him felt...longer. Overwhelmingly tedious. 

“I saw your brother yesterday,” Raven said.

“Which one?”

“Tim.” 

“Then I feel very sorry for your eyes.” 

She bit down on her lip as a smile emerged. “Clark got fired because of him. He's now unemployed.”

“Knowing Kent? He probably did it to himself.” Damian muttered. The last exotic colors of the sunrise had died, absorbed into the light blue sky. It reminded her of Clark’s eyes...and the pair that mismatched his.

“I hope you don't share the same resentment towards Conner. He seems nice,” said Raven. 

“He's decent, I suppose,” Damian shrugged and stretched his arms over his head, “he detests Clark, too.”

“What? How did you find that out?” Her head snapped away from the waves, meeting his emerald gaze. 

“He told me. And he also described a very intriguing story about you, where you climbed the counter for Kory’s nutella.” A smirk was tugging at the corners of Damian’s lips. 

Raven muttered a curse. “Traitor.” 

“I thought it was accurate—and adorable.” 

“Oh, really? Remember when that used to be you? I thought that was super cute. Especially when you were wearing the boarding school uniform,” A veil of scarlet cascaded over her cheeks from his last comment. She hoped that her words would be distracting enough to mask it. But thinking about Damian’s old boarding school uniform was not helping.

“— TT —low blow, Ray,” he avoided her gaze now. Raven almost thought he was blushing, but it was probably the slow-fading pink of the sunrise. The same electric pops that had filled the atmosphere of the Batmobile assaulted her now. 

Damian broke the silence this time. “I spoke with Cyborg, and I found something that might interest you.” 

Damian flipped out his phone. Raven leaned over his shoulder, and shyly recognized a photo of herself as his homescreen. It was taken when they tried oil painting together, and her clothes were smeared with vibrant colors. A long streak of red had dried on her cheek. She looked like a mess. Raven awkwardly played with the silver rings on her fingers while her face was still on screen. 

After a few swipes, Damian started to scroll through the scattered pages of a file. 

Raven’s eyes widened as she read the header, “Exploration of the Flashpoint Theory?”

“Cyborg and the Flash attempted to ‘do the math’ on the possibility of the Flashpoint. There are a few other files that display Flash’s rough outline of different timelines,” Damian explained. “If you think they’re relevant, I can send them to you.”

“They’re more than relevant, this is perfect.” Raven gazed at the information before her in awe. She hardly had the time to look into the Flashpoint theory with Project Cadmus consuming her time.

Damian didn't have to pursue this information—it wasn't like it was necessary research for the Titan’s missions. The idea itself was purely hypothetical; the Flashpoint could be fiction for all they knew. Damian, who considered ‘faith’ to be a glorified absence of data, spent his time on something that might not even be real—just for her. 

“Thank you, Damian.” Raven smiled at him. 

Damian’s lips curved up into his rare half-smile. 

“OH DAMIAN! YOO-HOO! YOU CAN'T OUTRUN YOUR BROTHER, I'M NOT JASON AFTER EATING ALFRED’S HOMEMADE CHIMICHANGAS! YOU CAN'T ESCAPE MY LOVE!” Dick yelled from somewhere nearby. 

Damian cringed and squeezed his eyes shut. “Dammit. My location’s been compromised.” 

“Need an escape route?” Inky black shadows threaded through Raven’s fingers as she held up her hand. The air in front of them collapsed in on itself, filling with magical energy as the violet matter of a portal appeared. 

“You realize that if I hadn't run into you, I would’ve committed homicide.” 

“Oh, I know.”

Chapter Text

“Thanks,” Damian stepped through the portal first. When Raven arrived behind him, the air conditioning of the Tower kissed away the heat of the sun. 

Damian excused himself to take a shower. Meanwhile Raven wandered to the kitchen, finding a drawer full of tea bags that she’d discovered during her previous invasion of the kitchen. They really did think of everything when I moved back in. Besides the sugar shortage. 

Raven picked a chamomile blend—and jumped when she found someone seated on the other side of the kitchen island. Her powers reacted this time, making a roll of paper towels shoot off the counter.

“John?” She gaped at Constantine as he sipped whiskey from one of the Tower’s glasses. 

He raised a hand, where an unlit cigarette balanced between two fingers. “You used to break windows when something scared you. Now look at you, the bloody ghost hunters on TV could do a segment on you.”

“What are you doing here?” said Raven. As she waited for the explanation, she shut a few drawers that were also opened from her shock and placed the paper towels on their proper stand.

“The house misses you and is on strike.” Constantine took a sip of his early-morning whiskey. “And the Seven Deadly Sins have been active in the area—”

John paused. He sloshed around the liquor in his glass as he studied their surroundings with a skeptical look. 

“What?” Raven glanced around. Gar was sleeping in; the rest of the Titans were probably training early. No one else was in the room. Then she sensed it. 

Light suddenly filled the room. The two winced and turned away from the blinding rays as they shimmered, morphing into delicate shades of blue. When a silhouette appeared, Constantine huffed. “Bollocks, it's my ex.” 

The lightshow melted away. Zatanna Zatara stood before them.

“Hey, I’ve wanted to check up on you since I heard you moved out of John’s,” Zatanna closed the distance between her and Raven, placing a gentle hand upon her arm.

Raven had run into Zatanna many times during her stay with Constantine. At one point, she’d spent a month with the dark-haired magician. For someone so famous (and flashy for a living), Zatanna was one of the most genuine people that Raven had ever met.

“Are you doing okay? Was it because of the usual, or did John do something overly stupid?” Zatanna’s voice was a calming monotone. Listening to her always instilled a feeling of relaxation in Raven.

“I’m sitting right here, love,” Constantine waved his drink in the air.

“What did you do, John?” Zatanna crossed her arms at him.

“Nothing! Tell her—I did nothing,” said Constantine.

“What are you even doing here—? Isn't it too early for happy hour?”

“I’m treating myself. Rubbing alcohol is for the outside wounds; drinking alcohol for the inside ones,” Constantine downed the rest of his glass.

Raven and Zatanna exchanged a look. Raven spoke first, “That isn't the exact reason why I moved out, but it was a sign.” 

“You could’ve stayed with me. My offer always stands,” Zatanna squeezed her arm in a light, comforting way.  

Raven glanced down at her feet. “Thanks, but I’m happy here.” 

Zatanna had offered her an apprenticeship many times—and Raven always declined with a polite refusal. There was a time when Raven had wanted her as a mentor. She still did, deep down. But it was easier this way. For the best. 

“Hmm,” Zatanna’s gaze lingered on her. It always felt like she could read Raven’s thoughts, the way her silence spoke more than her words. Raven held in a cringe at the familiar dark hair, full lips, and eyes that captured and cut. Zatanna’s were more blue, like azurite—thankfully they weren't amethyst. 

“Well,” Constantine grunted as he abandoned his stool and placed his empty cup in the sink. “If you don't mind, I might just hang around to smoke a ciggy while waiting around for Shazam.”

Zatanna’s eyes narrowed. “I thought Nanaue was trying to help you fend off your addiction.”

When Constantine gave her a questioning look, she shrugged. “We talk sometimes.”

“You talk…? That gives me the willies—look at my arms, I have goosebumps.” 

“We have a group chat dedicated specifically for dealing with you. It was Etrigan’s idea.” 

Constantine rolled up his sleeves and revealed his gooseflesh. As they bickered, Raven made two cups of chamomile tea. She mixed in some clover honey (and dumped a few sugar packets in her mug, provided by Clark’s melodramatics) and let it steep. 

Raven stared at the pair, slowly rising in volume, as she waited. She was hoping that the two would be out of the Tower soon, before—

“Why is Constantine here?” Damian said, staring over Raven’s head at the pair of deadly, magic-dealing sorcerers in the kitchen.

Too late. Time to die of embarrassment. 

“Custody battle, I assume,” Raven pressed her lips together as the two argued over a pez dispenser that somehow gravely interfered with one of Zatanna’s concerts. 

Damian studied her over the rim of his mug as he took a sip. His voice was muffled, “My family’s worse.”

“There is no way your family is less sane than mine—if that’s what we’re calling them,” Raven’s eyes narrowed as Constantine fit an entire pack of cigarettes in his mouth. When he held up a lighter to the bouquet of cancer, Zatanna snatched it away. 

Raven sighed. If she allowed them to continue in front of Damian, she would never survive the humiliation. Already the urge to curl up on the floor was strong. I need to get rid of them, before they summon a hell portal in the living room or—even worse—stay for breakfast.

 “Excuse me for a minute.” 

Raven set down her tea and approached the two. John’s cigarettes were gone; she didn't want to know how, only that he had reclaimed the lighter and held the open flame in the air before Zatanna.

“John, if this is a sad attempt to make a hell portal with a single, weak flame, please stop,” said Zatanna.

Hell portal. Called it. Raven cleared her throat, “Would you mind taking this outside? Maybe you can start a forest fire with Smokey the Bear or something.”

Constantine’s eyes flitted behind her, to Damian. A smirk curved his lips that was usually the warning sign to some very idiotic commentary. “Do we embarrass you? We can be worse, you know.”

“Don't feel pressured. The bar is already pretty low.”

Zatanna’s eyes widened. “Is that the boy?”

Raven tossed a look back over her shoulder. Damian was staring out the window, sipping the tea she made. He looked poised and picturesque, like something from an oil painting.

“The boy?” Raven repeated, eyes narrowing.

“Yup. That's him,” Constantine confirmed, eliciting a gasp from Zatanna.

“He's cute,” Zatanna pressed an awed hand to her chest.

Raven shushed her. “Zee!”

“He's the one that would sneak in at night,” Constantine scoffed. He glanced down at his lighter, that was useless without one of his ciggys. He shrugged, pocketed the silver tool, and pulled out his flask.

“I can't believe you allowed that under your roof.” Zee shot him her best look of disapproval.

“What? All they did was talk and watch movies. Nothing interesting.” 

“Ah, so that’s how she got into all the action movies with Bruce Willis.”

Raven had already summoned a portal to literally anywhere else but the Tower and ushered them towards the exit. “I called a cab for you, sort of. If there’s an emergency, please don't hesitate to call 911.” 

“You’re getting rid of us?” Constantine’s shoulders were shaking, like he was near bursting into hysterical laughter. 

“Don't we get to meet him?” Zee pressed. 

“Goodbye!” With one last push, they were out of the living room. The vivid violets of the swirling portal faded. Silence returned to the Tower.

Until the roll of paper towels popped off the counter again. Raven groaned. 

“My family’s still worse.” said Damian.

“When you have something to rival the tech-savvy shark and rhyming demon, let me know.”

Chapter Text

Raven sprinted through the overgrowth. Unseen forces clawed at her clothes, tangled in her hair. She wasn't sure if branches were assaulting her or shadows.

The realm of woods ended. Raven found herself in a meadow of white lilies. Suspended on their long necks, the ivory petals shuddered in the wind, murmuring in the unquiet.

A hooded figure knelt still among the valley of whispering lilies. 

Raven slowly stepped towards the shrouded figure. They looked solemn. Their hidden head was bowed low, unmoving. A robe of white masked their identity. 

“Hey,” Raven called out to them, but her voice was too soft. No matter how hard she tried, she barely made a sound. Even when her lungs burned, only a whisper escaped her lips.

The sky above them was a sea of black, in which a crimson moon waded among the ebony depths. There was a scarlet tint to the darkness, making it impossible to tell how long night's reign lasted. Raven wondered if time even existed wherever she was.

Beneath the somber rays of the moon, she neared the stranger. Their hidden head was bowed low, unmoving.

When Raven stood behind the figure, she hesitated. “Hello…!”

Her voice was still suppressed in her lungs. It was hardly heard in the valley of unrest. The lilies swayed like golden trinkets meant to hypnotize.

Raven reached out with her fingers, and lightly tapped their cloaked shoulder. Their hidden head was bowed low, unmoving.

The hooded figure vanished. 

She was alone in the meadow of murmuring lilies. 

Something lightly tapped her shoulder. 

Raven turned. They stood before her, hooded and still. They were dressed in familiar black robes.

It was Raven.

Familiar amethyst eyes gazed back at her. They were identical. Not a single hair out of place. Even the clothes were positioned in the same manner. The only difference was that this Raven had a white gem glistening on her forehead.

“It wasn't me,” the other Raven pleaded. “It wasn't me…!”

“What are you talking about…?” The breeze buried Raven’s uttered words as it passed through the meadow, caressing the lilies. 

“It wasn't me…!”

Raven’s eyes strayed from her doppelgänger. She scanned the lilies, now mute and unmoving. Her heart tore itself apart as she inspected them closer. Faces appeared amongst the lilies, motionless. Damian, John, Kory, Zatanna—every Titan, every face she ever knew. They were still and silent amidst the murmuring meadow.

She clutched her arms close to her chest, trying desperately to breathe with the large wound where her heart had been.

“Who did this—?” When Raven turned back to her twin, she was gone.

The valley of lilies and faces twisted in agony vanished.

Raven stood in the center of a city on fire. Flames consumed towering buildings, darkened the sky, poisoned the air. Raven’s burning lungs now matched her surroundings, falling apart before her. 

When Raven stepped forward, glass crunched beneath her feet. She glanced down, and gasped at the face that back at her in the broken shards.

Her robes were ivory, matching the murmuring lilies. The jewel nestled right below her hairline was black and shining, like obsidian. 

“Wh—”

The words died in her inflamed throat. She studied the buildings nearby with scrutiny, trying to ignore the terror that rose. A cracked sign on the cement caught her eye. Poison Chai.

A literal hell on earth.

Gotham was burning. 

—>*<—

Raven turned to the side and muffled most of her scream with her pillow. Her father was getting creative with the nightmares. It was her own fault, in a way; sometimes she wondered why she locked herself in her room to be tortured for eight hours a night. But his absence in this nightmare was not overlooked. 

There was a soft knock at her door. “Raven?”

It was Conner. She slapped a hand over her eyes, remembering his advanced hearing. Raven had created magical wards to muffle the sounds from her room (it was rude to wake the Titans every time she had a nightmare), but apparently Conner’s hearing surpassed them. 

“Yeah?” She propped herself up on her elbows, blinking away tendrils of terror as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room.

“Can I come in?” 

“I guess.” It was a stupid response, she thought later, but at the time she was too tired and dazed to form anything else.

Raven’s door creaked as it opened. A dim gray haze invaded the room from the corridor, where lamps along the walls emitted soft yellow light. 

“Sorry I woke you up,” Raven mumbled as Conner sat down on the edge of the mattress, facing her. The way he hovered over her conjured another recent memory to her mind—when Clark hovered over her with drinks in Poison Chai. 

The sign...everything up in flames …

Raven shuddered involuntarily and shoved the nightmare out of her mind. She focused on Conner before her, who’s features were bathed in shadow, and not currently grimacing among a meadow of lilies. 

“Everything okay?” He asked.

“It's fine...That's a lie. I’m never sleeping again.” Raven shifted so she was sitting up, her back against the headboard. She was wearing an oversized band t-shirt with pusheen-patterned pajama bottoms. Not the most classy thing she’d ever worn, but not overly embarrassing, either.

“Wanna talk about it?” Conner offered.

“Maybe later. In a therapist’s office, with dolls.” 

His chuckle echoed through the darkness. Such a warm, rich sound was very out of place in her room. 

“You don't have to stay. I don't want to keep you up,” Raven told him.

“To be honest, I wasn't really sleeping that great, either. Got a few things up here I probably need to hash out with the dolls,” Conner pointed to the side of his head, near his temple. Raven smirked. He sounded...more than when he had first come here. 

“Do tell.”

Raven pulled up her legs as he sat criss-crossed in front of her. The lingering essence of the nightmare was chipping away, fragment by fragment. 

“So I wake up in a lab full of test tubes, courtesy of everyone’s favorite blue guy who is not fond of me,” Conner’s voice was hoarse when he mentioned Clark.

Raven nodded along. “Classic superhero origins. Keep going.”

“It gets weirder. I’m only...conscious...for a few days, and there’s stuff up here that I’ve never interacted with. But it's there.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Like memories that aren't yours…?”

“Kind of. It's like…” Conner paused as he searched for the right words. “It's like driving a new car when you’ve never driven before. Or you’re in a car crash, and you forget everything, and it slowly comes back to you.”

“Huh.” Raven wondered if there was anything she could do, but empath and telepath were two entirely different things. Who knew if Conner even wanted advice? Maybe he just needed someone to listen, and Raven was fine with that.

“Is that weird?” He asked her. 

“You’re asking the wrong person. Everything in my life is weird...but what you said makes sense. It sounds tough,” Raven said. 

He nodded. The two sat and talked for a while. The more Conner spoke, the more Raven recognized how many similarities he and Clark shared. But not everything. Clark delivering her drink and Conner leaning over her kept playing over and over again in her mind. It was odd, but it felt like there was something that she was missing. 

“What's the deal with you and Clark?” Raven finally felt like she had permission to ask casually. Her stuffed animals were littered across the bed by now—she held the bunny close while Conner peered curiously at the Totoro plushie. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” said Conner.

“You first.” 

Conner frowned at Totoro. “...It's more his deal, really. When we first met, he seemed really stand-offish, but later I realized that was only with me…”

Conner crushed the stuffed animal to his chest. “He said I was his son.” 

Raven’s eyes widened. “His son…?”

“Uhuh.”

“But you said Cadmus made you.”

“That's right. Right...on.” 

A sudden conclusion hit her hard. Conner was Clark’s clone. That was the only explanation that made sense. They shared too many qualities to be a coincidence. 

But what about those steel gray eyes…? Those didn't belong to Clark. Where...or whom...did they come from, then?

“Huh,” Raven propped her chin up on her hand as she studied him. “Sorry, just lost in thought...I never knew about that. You do look like him.”

“Yeah?” Conner’s eyebrows were furrowed, like he couldn't decide whether the observation was a compliment or not. 

“But...it's not all him there. There’s you,” said Raven. She wasn't sure if Conner was aware of Cadmus’ clones or not. It wasn't even confirmed—just her intuition—and it wasn't her place to say it. She didn't think that fact should dictate Conner's persona.

“Thanks...for hearing me out tonight,” Conner said.

“Of course. Actually, I should be thanking you. Talking to you helped calm me down,” Raven admitted. The nightmare still horrified her, but the shock was gone. They were dreams, nothing more. 

He smiled. “You know, you're pretty c—”

A buzz on Raven’s nightstand interrupted their conversation.

“Sorry,” Raven reached over to lower the volume. Her eyes skimmed over the notification; it was a text from Poison Ivy.

Little Greenhouse of Horrors: Hey, sorry it's late. Nanaue’s digging up dirt on one of Cadmus’ Metropolis locations. Harley is thinking of initiating a heist soon. You in?

Raven’s index finger lingered over the screen as she contemplated the offer. The clones theory had a lot more merit than before. If Raven’s intuition was correct, and they could make a clone of Superman…

“Everything okay?” said Conner.

Raven returned to her nest of pillows, phone in hand. “Yeah, it's just...something I should probably look at.”

Me: I’ll be there. And I’ll bring the binoculars.

Ivy sent her an altered Mean Girls gif of a car driving up; Get in, loser. We’re going heisting.

Chapter Text

— S A N   F R A N C I S C O —

“It's been awhile since we hung out, just the two of us,” Kory smiled next to Raven as they strolled through the mall.

Every sound boomed in the massive confines, but the clash of so many echoed voices made it easy to blend in. The mall trip was Kory’s idea; they hadn't spent much time together since Raven returned. Raven felt awful about that, so she went along with everything Kory wanted to do. Clothes shopping, the infamously-paired mani-pedis—Raven didn't mind it too much, as long as it made Kory happy.

“You could’ve invited Donna if you wanted to. I don't mind,” said Raven. She blew softly on her recently-polished nails.  

“I know, but I miss when we used to hang out, doing our own thing. You're one of my closest friends,” Kory looked up from the pastel pattern of light pinks and greens on her fingers and caught her gaze. Because of recent events, the familiar red hair and green eyes made Raven think of Poison Ivy. The two had completely separate personalities; the latter being much more hostile. But maybe it was those similarities that warmed Raven to Ivy so quickly. 

“Same here,” said Raven. “You’re amazing, Kory. I missed having you around all the time.” 

“I'm so glad you’re back,” Kory hummed, clasping her arm tight. Their reflection strolled across display after display of merchandise. Every now and then Raven skimmed a store; she wanted to get something for Damian to thank him for the Flashpoint files. But she wasn't sure what to get him. 

“But sometimes it feels like I have to share you with everyone nowadays.” Kory continued, pouting as she looked forward. 

“Oh?” Raven’s eyebrow rose.

“For someone who claims to not like people, you’re very popular these days,” Kory teased. Her long scarlet tresses were decorated with braids, which swung back and forth in the small space between them. 

“Me? Popular?” Raven remarked in disbelief. 

“That Constantine man keeps swinging by, even when you’re not home. He always asks about you. I get texts from Clark every now and then, checking in on you—I still can't believe how quick Conner warmed up to you. The way he looks at you...between him and Damian, I can't tell which is more intense.” 

As Raven processed the information dump, she wasn't sure how to respond. It was new, being this...interactive. She was used to avoiding people. Feeling their emotions all the time wore her down. They were still exhausting, and Raven sometimes missed the large amounts of alone time she used to flourish in. But...it was a nice change, she realized. 

“Still, I'm not popular. There’s nothing interesting or people-friendly here,” Raven gestured at her reflection in one of the glass windows nearby, “just a walking horror movie waiting to happen.”

“Sorry. The people have spoken: they love you.” Kory spoke in an assured, chipper tone. 

How coherent are these ‘people’ exactly…?

Raven changed the subject as they reached one of the escalators. “So, how are things with Dick?” 

Kory sighed, a dreamy smile on her face. “Wonderful, as always. Dumb things pop out of his mouth sometimes, but he knows me so well—and he's great at communicating.”

“He is very open,” Raven said.

“And he has a cute butt,” Kory added.

“That is an added bonus.” 

They laughed as the stairs trickled down to the ground floor. Soon they were out the large doors, and the bright lights were replaced with the cloak of night sprinkled with diamonds. Kory traced the constellations with her eyes as the pair continued down the sidewalk.

“Do you miss it?” Raven asked, her gaze flickering up to the stars, then back to Kory.

“Every now and then. You?” said Kory.

“Every now and then.” Raven shrugged. “Do you hear from Tamaran at all…?”

Kory smiled, but her usual mirth didn't dance in her eyes. “Not really. It's been months. But that reflects more on my efforts than theirs, I suppose. I chose to stay.”

“And we’re lucky to have you.” 

They shared a smile. Lampposts provided orange wells of light every thirty feet, like slices of the sunset contained in every bulb. Kory’s silhouette gleamed in the light like she was a second sun. 

“Your nails turned out very nice,” Kory said, staring at the black paint on Raven’s fingers. “I think red would be a pretty color on you, too.” 

“...I try to not interact with that color too much,” Raven crossed her arms and became suddenly interested in the skyscrapers that hovered over them, reaching up towards the sky. There were some scarlet accents on her uniform, and she had a few garnet necklaces. But she drew the line there. 

“Then wh — oh,” Kory’s eyes landed on the scarlet gem nestled upon her forehead. “Still, you shouldn't let him dictate what colors you like and don't like. Red can be for other things. Damian wears red — Conner wears red, too.” 

“You’ve mentioned both of them quite a bit,” Raven noted. She had a feeling it was more than a recurrence. 

“Well — sorry, hold on.” Kory glanced down and pulled her phone out of her jean pocket. She frowned at the message on screen. “Oh, shoot. It’s Dick, he forgot to pay the electric for the Tower.”

Raven studied the peculiar look on Kory’s face. “Does this...happen often?”

“Enough to lie and claim that Doctor Light holds a grudge,” Kory sighed. “Because Dick’s in Bludhaven half the time, it gets confusing. For a while I was the person doing it, then he came back and said he’d take care of it. Now we’re all over the place. Do you mind if I step away for a moment? We can meet back at the Tower and try out some new hair products I found.”

“Sure, I’ll see you there,” Before Raven could offer to conjure a portal, Kory was already airborne. She waved before mimicking a meteor and shooting across the night sky. 

Raven turned and kept walking. She was close enough to walk home, and the air was light and cool at night. San Francisco was always undergoing a heat wave. She missed the cool, overcast atmosphere that London and Gotham provided. 

Something pervaded Raven’s senses. Her steps slowed.

She wasn't alone. 

“Would you look at this, brother? It's one of us.” 

She had already turned to face the demons. Two appeared behind her. One lounged on the lamppost above; the other leaned against the long mast, bathed in an orange glow. 

The weeks-old garbage stench of demon filled her nostrils and made her want to gag. She forced the nausea down as she glared at them. 

“It's Trigon’s spawn,” The one on the ground grumbled while gnawing on a blackened chicken leg.

“Wrong! I thought it was Constantine’s,” Yawned the one from above.

“I am nothing to John Constantine. And you are nothing to me.” She stepped forward and hardened her stare. Her forehead burned as an extra pair of eyes flashed themselves, intimidating her prey. Demonic senses took over for a minute. Raven hated to admit it, but the Demonic Stare was useful; she saw things that did not present themselves on the physical plane. There was even an eighth color that might’ve been considered beautiful. 

Teach them respect. Now. Raven almost flinched at the growl that penetrated her mind. 

Wings that belonged to the one on the ground fluttered. Like the glassy appendages of an insect. “Did you have pretzels earlier? I smell it on your breath.”

Raven’s head cocked to the side. Demons didn't really care for human junk food. Unless…

Constantine’s words floated back to her. The Seven Deadly Sins have been active in the area…

The demon from above abandoned his perch and landed before her. Concrete cracked beneath the slender mountain of claws and matted fur. His wretched form was bathed in the orange light of the lamppost. 

Insect wings...insects love food...the fur is fluffy, good for sleeping…

Her gaze flickered over Sloth and Gluttony. Raven knew as well as Constantine that if a demon walked free and unattended, pain and suffering was ensured. That was what they fed on. Like vampires to blood and cannibals to flesh. 

“This is my home, and you are not welcome here.” Raven towered over them. The lamppost’s bulb shattered as the remaining sparks were snuffed out by shadows, “Go to hell.”

Chapter Text

Questions with the cast of LOVE + FEAR

Question #1: WOULD YOU RATHER BE STRANDED ON A DESERTED ISLAND WITH POISON IVY OR JOHN CONSTANTINE?

Raven & Poison Ivy

Rachel Roth: You all the way. 

Poison Ivy: Aww. I think we’d have a lot of fun in that scenario.

Rachel Roth: I know! It would be like a vacation, it's the perfect people getaway.

Poison Ivy: We could make Totoro umbrellas and drink out of coconuts. And be around zero human beings at all whatsoever.

Rachel Roth: There’s no way I’d be stranded on a deserted island with John ever again. Last time that happened, he would not stop freaking out when we ran out of rum. 

John Constantine & Harley Quinn

John Constantine: I choose my boyfriend, obviously. Who deserves more screen time in this story. 

Harley Quinn: And I choose my girlfriend, obviously. Because she is the only person in the world I need to be happy. And we deserve more screen time together in this story. 

John Constantine & Harley Quinn: *high five*

Superboy & Robin

Conner Kent: Think I’d go with Constantine. He could teleport us off at any time, and he's just so entertaining.

Damian Wayne: Neither. They’re both terrible choices.

Conner Kent: Then all cards on the table: who would you go with?

Damian Wayne: Raven. We could leave at any time, she always carries books for entertainment. Her magic is great for blocking harmful UV rays.

Conner Kent: Of course, she’d be the perfect choice.

Cyborg & Shazam

Billy Batson: Ivy. Hands down. We could make a raft out of vines and those cool flower crowns…

Victor Stone: I'm a living machine. And Ivy’s an eco-terrorist. She would probably kill me, so I’d go with Constantine. 

Billy Batson: Coward. I heard she loves Nascar, you guys could talk cars all day.

Victor Stone: Poison Ivy likes Nascar? No way.

Billy Batson: Yes way.

Zatanna & King Shark

Nanaue: John, obviously. He looks so sexy in sunset lighting!

Zatanna Zatara: I am so happy John finally found someone who made him happy. And by that, I mean someone that will put up with his shit.

Nanaue: Oh, that's so sweet of you to say, Zee! I must say, it is nice that you care so much about John.

Zatanna Zatara: Well, yeah. I mean, before we went out, we were friends. Our friendship is great. That's what works for us. We’re like Jerry and Elaine from Seinfeld. 

Nanaue: And now look at us: just like Modern Family, where I'm played by the flamboyant Eric Stonestreet and you are the beautiful Sofia Vergara.

Zatanna Zatara: I love our friendship!

Nanaue: Me too! 

Superboy & Robin

Conner Kent: We actually have a lot more in common than people think. We both like dogs—

Damian Wayne: and share a mild distaste of Clark.

Conner Kent: Cannot stand that guy. Oh, and we’re both the leaders of Raven’s fanbase. She is SO underrated.

Damian Wayne: And misunderstood.

Two Hours Later—

Conner Kent: And she’s so cute and sweet sometimes—

Damian Wayne: She’s so insightful and witty. Seriously, Raven is one of the smartest members of the Titans. 

Conner Kent: She reads so many books.

Question #2: NAME ALL THE ROBINS

Harley Quinn & John Constantine

Harley Quinn: It's all about the Robins, isn't it?

John Constantine: Of course it is. Well, there’s the Baby Bat.

Harley Quinn: He's more like a chihuahua. 

John Constantine: He's so high maintenance. There’s always a butler nearby, waiting on him hand and foot. Holding his juice boxes.

Harley Quinn: Yeah, he gets really pissy when he doesn't get his juice box. 

Raven & Robin

Rachel Roth: All the Robins, okay...there’s you—

Damian Wayne: the most competent one.

Rachel Roth: You are, but I always thought of you as the cute one. 

Damian Wayne: …*blushing & avoiding eye contact*

Rachel Roth: There’s also Dick, who’s Nightwing. Wasn't there a girl as Robin at some point? What was her name?

Poison Ivy & Zatanna

Zatanna Zatara: You’re up to bat—ha, pun intended—because I don't know anything about those guys. 

Poison Ivy: Okay, I got this. I’ve seen all the Robins go through puberty, let’s see here…*counts on fingers* there's the blue one that has a really nice ass. The other one died, and was really snarky about it. And there’s the one who has coffee running through his veins instead of blood. Oh, and the blonde chick with zero chill.

Question #3: TEAM DAMIAN OR TEAM CONNER?

Superman & Batman

Bruce Wayne: You're really asking us that question?

Clark Kent: I think it’d be nice to have Raven as a daughter in-law. 

Bruce Wayne: You can't have her, Kent. She’s too cool. And she fits our aesthetic better.

Clark Kent: You’re Batman: you literally adopt everybody. You tried to adopt Barry once. And you already have Kory, you can't take Raven, too!

Bruce Wayne: She’s already hitting it off with our villains.

Clark Kent: Raven and Luthor could get along; they both meditate and share a genuine disgust towards people.

Bruce Wayne: I can already hear the future screams ringing out from that scenario. 

Nightwing & Starfire

Dick Grayson: Yeah, Damian’s just a more decent human being around Rachel, so...you know. 

Koriand'r: You know, if I married you, and Raven married Damian, we could both have a double wedding AND we’d be sister in-laws. *gasps* We could take one of those family photos on the beach together, where we’re all in the white shirts and denim and we’re jumping! Wouldn't that be so amazing? 

Raven & Superboy

Rachel Roth: Um…

Conner Kent: You're really being put on the spot here.

Rachel Roth: I am. 

Conner Kent: I can make a suggestion, if you like, milady.

Rachel Roth: Thanks...milord? *shakes head and bites back a smile*

Poison Ivy & Zatanna

Poison Ivy: Ugh, it's such a hard decision! Raven and Robin have so much in common—and if Raven started dating him, she could stay in Gotham more. But Superboy has a much sweeter personality.

Zatanna Zatara: I know! And they’re both so good-looking.

Poison Ivy: Oh yeah, they’re heart throbs.

Zatanna Zatara: If I were a teenage girl, I would probably be obsessed with them.

Poison Ivy: Creepy, but relatable. Who would you choose, then?

Zatanna Zatara: Oh boy. Um...I think I would go with Damian. He’s so dark and mysterious. And Raven told me that he lets her cut bagels with his samurai swords.

Poison Ivy: He's a keeper.

Zatanna Zatara: Yep. Plus Conner’s advanced hearing would make me feel so uncomfortable. What if he hears me crunching on potato chips a room over or something? 

Poison Ivy: I don't think I could date someone who could hear everything. 

Harley Quinn & John Constantine

John Constantine: Superboy. He'll be easier to kill if he breaks my kid’s heart.

Harley Quinn: Aww. Dad goals. 

John Constantine: And he’s nice and all...also it would really piss off Clarky to have a closer relationship with me. 

Harley Quinn: So, basically, Team Superboy for revenge and spite. I LOVE it! 

Cyborg & Shazam

Billy Batson: Team Jacob :D

Victor Stone: Dude. No. 

Beast Boy & Blue Beetle

Garfield Logan: You know, I actually used to have a HUGE crush on Raven.

Jaime Reyes: Seriously? Wow, it's hard to imagine the two of you together. Is this the hidden ship? It would be super weird if, after all of this, she ended up with you.

Garfield Logan: HAHAHAHAHAHA......yeah.

Chapter Text

With a flick of Raven’s fingers, tendrils of darkness lashed out at the two demons. Sloth went sprawling. Gluttony was pushed back into the road. 

Raven winced at the shattered remnants of cement. She’d been trying to keep the property damage to a minimum. But demons running rampant was worse than angry taxpayers. 

Gluttony lunged forward with a too-large smile full of ivory blades.

An array of violet shields and ebony coils sprung forth at Raven’s command. The air tingled with magic. Her nostrils burned from the ripe demonic stench of brimstone. 

The overwhelming emotions of the two demons kicked in. Raven had the sudden urge to yawn and bail on the fight to raid the Waffle House down the street. Most demons were full of rage and pain (tolerable, but not nearly as suffocating as humans). The Sins were different: they were straightforward, and mostly felt one thing. It was easier to block out. 

Sloth had come to (Raven thought she’d heard snores just moments before). He lurked above Raven’s head atop the lamppost, poison dripping from his mouth. 

In one swift motion, Raven made a tugging gesture with her arm. Darkness twisted around the pole. Metal groaned as it bent. The lampposts down the sidewalk shed sparks as they wilted like flower corpses. 

Sloth landed on the other Sin’s shoulders. The two tumbled down in a mess of inhuman limbs. Raven directed the shadows around them, creating a sealed dome. 

I need to bind them, somehow—that's the only way to prevent them from wreaking havoc. But bind them to what…? It's not like I have any enchanted crystals on hand—oh, wait…

Raven suddenly became aware of the crimson crystal resting against her forehead; the main source of her migraines. That may create more problems than it will solve. I already have to listen to Him. I don't think he’d be fond of company. 

An angry roar answered in her head, forcing her to press a hand to her temple. That would be a no. Maybe I should just contain them in an empty soda bottle lying around until I get home…?

The Sins had broken free from their captivity. Claws and fangs tore and ripped. Shadows dimmer than dusk writhed and consumed. 

Raven followed them into an old, rusting parking garage. Cemented pillars flanked her on all sides. She couldn't lose sight of demons in this awful-smelling labyrinth. 

Something flickered in the corner of her eye, darting through the columns. She didn't sense anything; it was probably some poor person trying to find their car. Raven kept her gaze trained on her opponents, determined to prevent any escape.

Sloth’s jaw stretched beyond any humanoid as his mouth opened wide, poisonous gas filling the air. The stone column closest to Raven hissed and started to sag. 

Raven conjured a portal behind her. She floated backwards and reappeared a short distance away. The poisonous cobalt cloud continued to hover ominously. 

Raven continued to glide backwards, revealing someone hiding behind the nearest pillar.

Familiar amethyst eyes gazed back at her. 

They were identical. Not a single hair out of place. Even the clothes were positioned in the same manner. Same black trench coat, same combat boots, same shoulder-length hair.

Raven felt her shoulders moving up and down rapidly, yet air refused to fill her lungs. It was Raven. The only difference was that this Raven had a saffron-yellow gem glistening on her forehead.

Raven hadn't realized that she was still floating backwards until she passed another column, blocking her view of the doppelgänger. 

What — how — am I going insane? Did I actually see that? Am I hallucinating? Maybe I inhaled the toxins of the gas —?

Raven's thoughts were interrupted as she backed into a column. Raven fell to the ground as agony spread across her shoulders.

“Ow,” Raven muttered. 

Just as Raven propped herself up on her elbows, a shadow fell over her.

“You may want to learn how to walk. I’ve heard it's a really popular means of transportation.” The Other Raven remarked.

The doppelgänger hovered over Raven. She didn't flicker like a hologram or appear translucent. She looked...real.

Raven started to move, then stopped short. She stared at the glimmering yellow gem on her twin’s forehead. What did that mean? How was it even possible?

Raven trembled as another theory came to mind. Is this the work of Project Cadmus? Did they clone me? One of me is bad enough!

“Hello? You gonna get up, or just lay there and let those idiots win?” The Other Raven gestured over her shoulder where Gluttony and Sloth advanced towards them. Gluttony punched one of the nearby pillars, removing the column between floor and ceiling. He balanced the long, jagged piece of rock over his shoulder and threw it at the Ravens. 

Raven’s doppelgänger lifted a casual hand. A wall of violet rose before them. The cement disintegrated when it came into contact with the conjured shield.

Whatever — or whoever — she is, she can use my magic, too. 

The Other Raven shrugged as if losing interest, and started to walk away. “My book isn't going to read itself.”

Her duplicate turned and disappeared in the labyrinth of pillars. 

What the hell just happened?

— H A L L   O F   J U S T I C E —

Damian waved to Raven from the entrance as she climbed the marble steps. “The meeting’s about to start.” 

“Sorry. I overslept,” Raven took the steps two at a time until she stood before him. The Justice League was holding a meeting, and all allies were supposed to attend — including the Titans. Her mind was still scattered from last night.

Damian’s eyebrows narrowed. “You usually don't.”

“It's a long story.” She hadn't told anyone about the events of last night yet. Once Raven had returned home, she properly sealed the two Sins, consumed three quarters of the kitchen, and passed out. She planned on telling the others, but the call to the Hall of Justice was immediate. 

“Does it relate to the reason why your shoulders are so stiff?” He replied. 

The pair walked through the double doors of the Hall of Justice. The glass ceiling rose far above their heads as sunlight danced on the shimmering tile. 

“Am I that obvious?” Raven sighed. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself during the meeting. 

“Hard to say. I know you well,” Damian admitted, lightly clasping her arm to guide her in the right direction. He had visited more often than her; his father helped establish the building, after all.

Raven cast another glance at Damian as they walked briskly side by side. The rays of sun peeking through the glass caressed his face. His jaw was set a certain way that looked uncomfortable. That was a personal indication that one or more of his family members (all of them, usually) were testing his stamina. Batman led these meetings; Raven wondered if he was the cause. 

“You could’ve gone in without me,” said Raven, although she was secretly relieved Damian was there. After last night, Raven felt like her sanity was hanging by a thread. “Won't your father mind you being late?”

“He minds a lot of things,” Damian shrugged as they cut across the near-empty lobby. 

“How are things? Between you and Bruce, I mean." Raven hadn't heard Damian mention his father lately. That was odd. 

“Better after I graduated. He’s probably relieved that he no longer has to meet with an incompetent boarding school dean every week.” Damian clicked his tongue. “He has more time to obsess over Superman’s incompetence.” 

They reached the last door. Damian held it open as Raven mumbled her thanks. She glanced down as many pairs of eyes wandered to them. 

Everyone was seated around a massive round table with the center removed. Mera was posing for a picture, holding a fork to her scarlet tresses as Supergirl snapped a photo. Aqualad was barefoot, as always. Damian’s brothers and sisters sat together; Red Hood was currently flicking Damian off. Conner was seated as far from Clark as possible and waved at them as they entered. 

Raven felt her shoulders hunching up at the attention — which brought back the pain from ramming backwards into the column hours before. Raven bit down on her lip as they found two empty seats next to Clark.

“Hey — are you alright? You look tired,” Clark whispered as she sat down next to him.

“You’re very perceptive,” Raven murmured as she settled into her seat, trying to find a position that didn't make her shoulders flare up. Batman, Cyborg, and Wonder Woman were on the inside of the ring-shaped table with holographic screens surrounding them. 

Constantine leaned over on Clark’s other side. “Psst! Roth!”

Raven’s face burned as more people glanced their way. She looked at him expectantly, half hoping he would burst into flames.

“Got a ciggy?” Constantine asked.

“You can't smoke in here, John,” Clark replied in a hushed voice.

“You think I believe that bull? Red Hood just had five poking out of his mask! The wanker wouldn't even share.”

Raven dug into the hidden pocket of her uniform and slid a pack of cigarettes across the table. If she refused, he would continue to bother her. Raven did not want to make a scene.

Constantine wore the grin of a winner as he placed one in his mouth, which was confiscated by Zatanna seconds later.

Clark gaped at Raven. “You just...carry those around?”

“Yes…?”

“Between Constantine and Poison Ivy, you are surrounded by bad influences.” Clark said in a scolding tone.

Damian leaned forward past Raven to glare at Clark. “She’s not a child, Kent.”

“Thank you for your input, Bad Influence Number Three.”

“Ahem.”

All four, including Constantine, looked up. Wonder Woman was staring promptly in their direction. Raven elbowed Clark in his torso, but she doubted he felt any pain. She could’ve been jabbing a brick wall for all she knew. 

Batman glared at them (mostly Damian and Clark) before continuing, “As I was saying, it is imperative that we discuss our most dangerous and potential threat: Darkseid.”

Chapter Text

The room stilled. The mention of the new “god” seemed to cast a spell of silence upon their surroundings. Raven noticed Clark lean forward intently out of the corner of her eye. 

Raven knew little of Darkseid. His name had popped up numerous times in the past years. He reminded her of Trigon, and that always turned her off towards the subject. As if on cue, the gem on her forehead burned at the mere utterance of Darkseid’s name. 

“Darkseid is not just a global threat: the entire solar system is at risk.” Wonder Woman’s voice rang throughout the dim room.

Clark shifted closer to Raven, accidentally ruffling her hair with his boulder-like shoulder. “Do you remember anything yet?”

She turned slightly to catch a glimpse of his exotic lapis orbs. It took a moment of thought to understand his question. “You mean the Flashpoint?”

“Yes.” 

Raven looked away from his intensity and unintentionally caught Conner’s gaze. He could probably hear their conversation. There was a puzzled expression on his face across the room. 

There were so many things she wanted to ask Clark. What happened during the Flashpoint, why he treated her like an old family friend, how Conner was his son. So many inquiries lingered on the tip of Raven’s tongue. She hadn't had the chance to pose any of them to Clark. Since Conner’s arrival, Clark’s presence at Titans Tower was scarce. Raven would ask him soon, but not here. Not beneath Conner’s concrete-gray gaze. 

“I don't remember anything,” Raven breathed. “I'm sorry.” 

“Don't be. Please keep trying.” She could feel Clark’s emotions dip at the news. His chair creaked as he shifted in his seat, staring at the large screens hovering in midair. 

“Another attempted invasion is inevitable,” Cyborg strolled along the curving table. “We need to have some kind of contingency plan for the worst.”

The atmosphere of the room had an unbearable weight to it, like Darkseid was the next Doomsday. Raven resisted the adamant feeling of urgency spreading across the table. Between Project Cadmus, tracking down the Sins, and the appearance of her own clone, Darkseid was the farthest threat from Raven’s mind. Part of her wanted to shut out the entire conversation and focus on the current threats.

The sound of Damian’s chair scraping across the tile shattered her plan of neglect.

Everyone stared, including her, as Damian stood. The image on the screens changed, brooding over him. A tall figure shrouded in armor and smoke. Blazing eyes with deadly rays. Like something from the end of the world. As Raven’s gaze tore between Damian and Darkseid, an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.

“If we are to consider a contingency plan for Darkseid, we should know our enemy. Why is he conquering?” Damian said. 

Cyborg and Wonder Woman exchanged a wordless look. 

Damian’s eyes narrowed behind his mask. “What is Darkseid’s ulterior motive? Every conqueror has one. Ra’s al Ghul wanted to eliminate all crime and prevent ecological devastation to the planet. Trigon destroyed for his own pride and amusement.”

He paused, glancing at Raven as if for confirmation. She nodded, and he continued, “What information do we have on Darkseid?”

The screens around the room changed; an intricate metal sphere was displayed on a background of stars. Raven realized it was a planet, bubbling with magma and metal.

Batman gestured at the screen nearest to him, “Darkseid’s base of operations is Apokalips, a world infested with parademons and operated by the stolen matter of other planets.”

Raven heard a few murmurs; someone swore. Damian remained standing. “Our opponent has a planet's worth of resources and adversaries. What assets do we possess to fight that?”

Wonder Woman’s head tilted to the side. “Look around.” 

Raven’s eyes scanned the room. There were quite a few people. Every single individual was certainly strong and skilled. Yet…

Damian spoke her thoughts. “One room against an entire planet?”

A few seats away, Dick rose from his chair. “I think what Robin is trying to say is—”

Clark shot up on Raven’s other side. She shrunk down as more eyes shifted to their side of the room. 

“He’s right.” Clark said. “This is not enough. We need more force. I’ve seen it —”

Wonder Woman held up a hand. “If you are referring to the Flashpoint Theory that you have already presented to the Justice League, there is no proof that the visions you have seen are accurate, Clark. Unless you have new evidence to defend your claim.”

Clark fell silent. His eyes drifted down to Raven, then on his other side to Constantine. Raven bowed her head. Constantine scooted his chair in the opposite direction under his gaze. 

“Regardless of the Flashpoint, to attack Darkseid in our current position would be a suicide mission,” said Damian. “We need an army. With warriors.”

Raven could feel tension rising in the room. Specifically, she felt a surge of irritation in Batman. A sharp pang of annoyance hit her upon the discovery. Damian had a valid point. Damian was (unfortunately) familiar with conquerors. Everything always seemed like it was in his area of expertise. The way his mind worked...Raven still marveled at it, even as years passed. Calculating, tactful, logical — at a lightning-quick pace. He usually leapt first, but that was only because he had the perfect instincts to follow through. That was Damian. 

Raven’s jaw clenched as she looked back at Batman. But he doesn't see that. If Damian continued, Bruce would say something. Most likely hurtful. In front of everyone. Raven felt sick just imagining it. Damian did not deserve a parent monologue, especially in front of this audience.

Raven carefully placed a hand atop Damian’s, tense and flat upon the table. She kept her voice low, only for him to hear, “I agree with you. On everything. But if you keep pressing them, they’re going to get annoyed and forget every important point you made.”

Damian was still towering over her, but she had his attention. He muttered back, “You’ve seen their plan; or rather, the absence of one. This is ridiculous —”

“Oh, absolutely. It's the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. But if you tear it apart all at once, they’re just going to get upset and not listen,” said Raven. Her hand was still resting on top of his. “You’re right, you know more about this than they do. But they’re stubborn. They need a minute to get there. And when they do, they’ll need you.”

The way his emerald gaze bore into hers made Raven shiver. Slowly, he returned to his seat. Clark must’ve also heard her speech and did the same.

Red Hood snickered across the room. “Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, Robin.”

Raven felt like hiding under the table. Damian went rigid. 

Batman addressed the disturbance. “Jason, that’s unprofessional. You’re grounded.”

“Seriously? I’m twenty-three!”

Constantine’s chair flew backwards. “And that tosser smuggled in a pack of ciggys! Put him in a time-out!”

“Shut it, Blond Gandalf!”

Chapter Text

The meeting did not last long after that. Everyone exchanged reports about the different sectors they covered. Darkseid’s name was not uttered again. When the meeting was officially called to an end, most of the room emptied. Raven longed to be one of them, but Damian hadn't moved beside her. 

Raven tucked a stray hair behind her ear as she peeked over at him. Damian stared forward, beautiful yet unearthly still, like one of Michelangelo’s masterpieces. He’d barely spoken a word to her after discussing Darkseid—and Jason’s comment. Was he icing her out for what she’d said? Or because of Jason’s taunt?

“Are you all right…?” She asked him. When the question lingered in the air too long, she quickly added, “I'm sorry if I went too far and said the wrong thing —”

“You didn't.” Damian cut her off, finally addressing her. His emerald gaze was impossible to read. “I'm glad you said something.” 

“Oh.” She glanced down at her hands for a moment. When her gaze returned to his, there was something almost melancholic there. But not quite. 

She tried to ignore the swirl of his emotions. It was rude to prod (even if she secretly wanted to know). But she was well in tune to him, and they were sitting so close. It was hard to refuse their irresistible lure. 

“You look upset.” Raven gave in and turned her body completely towards him.

“Father will not be pleased.” Damian’s eyes drifted to Batman, standing near Cyborg and Wonder Woman as they conversed. Batman’s presence was pungent with a familiar intensity.

Damian fell silent once more, avoiding her gaze again. 

Your a jumbled mess, Damian. She tried to block out the war going on inside of him, but it was a futile attempt. Over time, the emotions began to settle. Raven’s eyes widened as she felt something off in the pattern...something like longing—

Raven felt someone leaning against the back of her chair. Constantine’s coat fluttered on her side like a valley of sand dunes. 

“That went well,” said Constantine. He glanced over at Damian. “Bloody entertaining, that one.” 

“John,” Raven exhaled and tried to divert his attention. Damian had been through enough. “I caught two of the Sins last night.”

“Sealed them?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good for you.” Constantine nodded. “I’d give you a sticker if I had one. May I interest you in a sarcastic comment instead?”

“I don't want anything. And I’m assuming your offer is sarcastic by design.” 

“You did a great job with the demons, sweetie. We’re very proud of you.” Zatanna praised, standing on the other side of Raven’s chair. Constantine rolled his eyes when Zee included him. Both peered over her shoulders like participants of Parent Day at grade school.

Raven turned in her seat to face them. She was just about to chew them out for treating her like a child, but she held her tongue. John and Zatanna were two of the most intelligent people she knew.

Raven still wasn't sure what that version of her was last night. It could be Project Cadmus; it could be something else. She knew from her time with John that all impossibilities were likely. Perhaps they had seen it before.

“Do you know anything about cloning magic?”

“What?” The sorcerer and dark arts dabbler gave her peculiar looks. Raven had stolen Clark’s attention with her question; he was so busy texting away with Lois, Raven nearly forgot he was still beside her. 

“Clones. Twins. Doppelgängers. Some kind of magic used to duplicate yourself.” Raven explained. 

Zatanna hummed as she mulled over Raven’s words. “Duplication magic is possible. I’ve used it in my performances a few times. But there's usually limits...John, wanna weigh in here?”

“I don't know about duplication of the self, love, but there’s versions of Astral Projection where your body remains in one place, and a depiction of you appears in another. It's a common one. Good for talking to dangerous sods, but you can't use other magics at the same time,” said Constantine. 

Raven’s clone used magic last night; that ruled out Astral Projection. She had snuck in a few tomes from the House of Mystery when Raven moved out. Maybe they had something on duplication. 

“Still don't like magic,” Clark muttered under his breath.

“Yeah? It's not fond of you, either, Clarky.” Constantine smoothed out the collar of his trench coat. “Sorry, love, but I don't have time to chat. I’m seeing a movie with Nanaue.”

Constantine spun on his heel and held up a hand as he walked off.

“It's a chick flick; I’m the one who told him about it,” Zatanna called after him.

“Ninety minutes of Walking on Sunshine montages. How bloody wonderful…” 

Zee tucked a few escaped strands of Raven’s hair behind her ear before stepping away. Raven stiffened at the gentle touch of her fingers. It was such a...motherly thing to do. Raven tried to compose her facial expression as Zatanna conjured one of her portals, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks...” 

When both had vanished from sight, Raven released a breath that she hadn't realized she’d been holding. She looked over at Damian. 

“You look like you’re ready to bang your head against the table.” He said.

“So do you.” 

Clark glanced up from his texting. “That's how everyone feels after seeing their parents.”

“I can concur.” Conner had made their way towards them, and appeared on the opposite side of the table. Raven sensed the tension between Clark and Conner in the air; thick, like static. Clark excused himself in a murmur as he stepped a few feet away, fingers flying across his phone. 

“Hey, birds.” Conner grinned. He glanced over at Damian. “Are we still on for later?” 

Damian nodded. Something seemed to breathe a little life into his expression. Raven’s eyebrow rose, “What's later?” 

“Hanging at the dog park with Titus,” Conner replied, leaning on the other side of the table. 

“That's adorable.” A smile broke across Raven’s face at the mental image of both Damian and Conner surrounded by puppies. 

“You should join us. Come get some sun; you’re looking a little pale these days.”

“How dare you mock my ghostly pallor,” Raven rolled her eyes. “I’d love to, but I’m on grocery shopping duty for the Tower.” 

Raven still had to replenish the pantry from her raid yesterday. If she didn't, she’d face the wrath of angry, hungry teenagers (and she couldn't take Dick’s “I'm not mad, just disappointed” speech). 

“Take pictures for me,” Raven said as she finally rose from her chair. Her shoulders didn't feel as stiff; maybe they had finally healed. That was good news. And Damian was getting along with people for once. 

“I’ll see you later.”

Just as Raven started to walk away, a sudden spout of urgency came over her. She paused, studying her surroundings, wondering what such a powerful emotion originated from—

Batman was approaching Clark, who was looking around wildly for an escape route. Raven couldn't believe that she had reached a deep enough intimacy with Clark to pick up on his emotions so vividly. An idea popped into her mind as Clark veered away from the caped crusader.

“Hi,” she stepped in front of Clark before he could run for the exit. “Any chance you’d like to go food shopping with me?”

“Sure, wait — you’re asking me?” Clark’s features were blank with surprise.

“Yes. You said we should keep in touch. Besides, you helped me move in. I’ll buy groceries for you, my treat,” She offered, remembering his financial situation. Raven’s intentions weren't entirely selfless: she wanted to ask Clark for more details about the Flashpoint — and, more importantly, Conner. Getting him alone was the perfect opportunity.

Clark threw another glance over his shoulder. Batman was getting closer. His gaze returned to Raven. “Is there any chance we can visit a store in another town...state...or country, perhaps?”

“Sure, if you brought your ruby slippers.”

“Not funny.” 

“In a rush?” A dark gloved hand gripped Clark’s shoulder hard. Clark froze as if he were caught committing a crime. 

“Yes, actually. Raven and I were just about to get groceries —”

“How convenient. I was just about to do the same.” Batman’s eyes narrowed beneath his hood. “I’ll join you.” 

Clark glanced down at Bruce’s uniform. “Did you...plan on wearing that out?”

“No. I planned on masquerading out in public with an identity that can pay for things, Clark. I advise you to get one of those.”

Chapter Text

— L O C A L   S U P E R M A R K E T —

Raven stood awkwardly between Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent, both armed with their own shopping carts. One was clothed in a velvet black suit with sunglasses; the other a plaid button-up with ordinary frames. The billionaire moved with the lithe grace of a predator, while the former journalist blent in with his surroundings. Raven watched both displays of cunning with wariness. 

They blocked the entire aisle of cereal, moving at a slow, calculating pace. Raven felt like apologizing to the people who tried to go down the aisle, then turned and walked away. 

“I believe this is our first time having a proper conversation, Raven,” Bruce Wayne spoke with the same smooth baritone of Batman. The words were no longer flat; every syllable was perfectly tuned. She listened to the delightful trickle of his tenor — how it moved up and down, musical to the ears. It was entertaining to hear. A very admirable trait for a businessman. Useless, however, for crime fighting.

“...Yes, I believe so, Mr. Wayne.” Raven bit down on her lip. She felt like it was a dull response in Bruce Wayne’s presence. From the stories Damian told, every single word his father spoke had purpose. She could sense the similarities between the two; the dark hair, well-defined jawline, an air of authority. But Damian was warm, like flames, from his quick quips to his gentle gazes. Bruce was detached and numb. Like ice. 

“Please, call me Bruce. Damian’s told me much about you,” Bruce said coolly.

His words shocked Raven. The sunglasses he wore as a disguise made his expression even harder to read, but Raven could sense something similar to respect in him. Curiosity, or rather, skepticism, was over dominating. 

Still, he told his father about me…?

“He’s informed you on all members of the Titans, I assume,” said Raven. 

“Some names come up more than others,” Bruce’s eyes narrowed at the rows of cereal they passed. “You may want to —”

She paused as she scanned the nearest shelf. Damian liked Cap’n Crunch (it was vegetarian safe). She grabbed a box for him, and some Fruity Pebbles for Dick. When she gave Bruce a quizzical look, he flashed her a full-lipped smile. “— nevermind.”

They continued walking. Bruce’s questions resumed. His gaze remained locked on her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand erect. She was being interviewed — no, interrogated, perhaps? Every intricate detail was being assessed, from what cereal box caught her eye to whatever side of the aisle she lingered on. 

Raven was worried about Clark, quietly strolling beside them, but an odd feeling of relief was radiating off of him. Perhaps Raven was keeping the spotlight (or criticism) off of him.

“Damian mentioned that you enjoy literature. Any favorites?”

“Plath is magnificent. Her sentence formation is brilliant. There’s also Dickens, Stoker, and Poe —”

“You’re a fan of nineteenth-century literature,” Bruce observed.

“Mostly, yes. But my favorite would probably be Brown’s Wieland —”**

“One of the first American novels.” Bruce finished. “A conglomeration of misleading faith and cunning deception. It's a thrilling read — you could learn something from it, Clark.”

“I'm a journalist, Bruce. I’m not illiterate,” said Clark.

“Yes, I see we’re surrounded by your literature.” Bruce skimmed the back of a cereal box with a furrowed brow, then looked over at him. 

When they reached the end of the aisle, both tried to exit at the same time. Their carts took up too much room and wouldn't move forward. The two men exchanged glances, then pushed again. Same result.

“One of us should go first.”

“Of course.”

Both moved forward. The carts were still stuck. Bruce and Clark glared at each other.

And I thought John and Zatanna acted like a divorced married couple. Raven sighed, “Here, I’ll move them.”

Raven dislodged the two carts and they continued their slow progress. Her phone buzzed. It was Damian; 

Dami: Hey, are you still at the store?

Me: Yes. Need me to pick something up?

Dami: Cereal?

Raven smirked as she took a picture of the Cap’n Crunch box and sent it to him.

Me: Already taken care of :)

Dami: Thank you. How’s it going with Father?

Raven glanced up at the Billionaire. He currently had a look of disgust on his face as Clark grabbed a multi-pack of ramen noodles.

Me: Fanciest food shopping trip ever. He also seems very...informed about me.

Dami: Apologies. I only briefed him on the remarkable details. I promise.

Me: So...you were bragging about me?

Dami: Of course. You’ve seen the people we’re associated with. You’re one of the strongest, most competent people I know.

Raven stared at the words on the screen for a while. The familiar tingly sensation occurred beneath her skin. Even when she eventually looked away, it still lingered on her, hovering in the atmosphere. Pulsating like her thundering heartbeat. 

Bruce turned to Clark, and it appeared that Raven’s investigation was over. “I heard you lost your job at the Daily Planet. There’s an opening at Wayne Enterprises, if you’re interested.”

“Thanks, but, polite pass. No offense, just the thought of you as my boss makes unemployment more favorable.” Clark’s face scrunched up at the offer.

“I’m flattered, Clark. I suppose you have more time to spend with Conner, then.” Bruce slyly dropped the bomb in the conversation without faltering.

Clark’s eyes widened, taken off guard. Then he muttered a curse under his breath. 

Raven had planned on asking Clark about Conner alone. She was hesitant to proceed with the Batman present, but this wasn't about her. It concerned Conner.

“Why does he say that he's your son? And why are you avoiding him so much? He needs you,” said Raven. 

The memory from a few nights ago floated to her mind, of Conner squeezing one of her stuffed animals to his chest. Her heart twisted at the image.

The frostbitten look Clark flashed at Raven stopped her in her tracks. “That’s none of your business. Both of you.” 

So they did have something in common; Bruce and Clark repelled others from their personal lives with glacial layers. Raven hadn't expected Clark’s guarded reaction. He seemed so bright and friendly in the past — like Kory. He was his own sun. Now he was cold and distant. Like a full moon; a companionless entity on a sea of ebony. 

She inhaled sharply. “So that's how it is? You’re allowed to poke around my life, but I'm not allowed in yours?”

“There’s a difference and you know it, Rachel.” Clark’s knuckles whitened on the handle of the shopping cart. 

“Either way, it’s Conner’s business. You just dropped him off and left. I think he should know about Cadmus, and everything else you’re not telling him.” And not telling me.

“Still pretending to care about him?” said Clark. “That hasn't changed, even after the Flashpoint.” 

Raven had no idea what he meant, but the remark had the same sting as a slap across the face. “I do care, I just don't want Conner to be screwed over by his father.”

“You know what? I didn't ask for this!” Clark withdrew his hands and threw them in the air. “I didn't ask for someone to clone me, and I didn't ask to take care of that person.”

A chill ran down Raven’s spine. Her intuition was correct. Conner was a clone. 

“I didn't ask for Damian, but I opened my home and my heart to him all the same,” said Bruce. The monotone that Raven was familiar with was seeping back into his voice. “No matter how Conner was conceived, or...created, he is still your responsibility. This is not just a child; this is a Kryptonian child. And if that child does not share the same morality as you, we will all suffer the consequences."

Raven’s arms tightened around her torso. The emotions of the two men were fluctuating, growing with intensity. She tried listening to the music played low in the supermarket, but it wasn't enough to block it out.

Her gaze flew down the aisle, searching for some sort of comforting distraction —

Raven froze as her eyes landed on another one of her duplicates. They were unnervingly alike except for the gem: it was a dull gray. The Other Raven was munching on an open bag of chips, spying on them from the very end of the aisle. When Raven noticed her, the doppelgänger panicked and ducked out of sight. 

Another one…? Am I seeing things? Have I finally gone mad?

Raven shook it off and her attention locked onto the two tense men. 

“If I wanted to be attacked, I would’ve kept my suit on.” Clark mumbled, abandoning his cart as he started towards the exit.

“Clark,” Raven trailed after him.

Bruce held up a plastic bag, “You forgot your groceries, Mr. Drama Queen.” 

“The crackers were probably bad luck anyway!” Clark didn't turn back to look at him.

Raven took another step forward to follow him, but Bruce’s hand fell upon her arm before she could. His gray-blue eyes met hers. “Let him go. He needs a minute. I’ll buy his stuff and drop it off at his address. I’ll also take care of Titans’ groceries.” 

“Thank you, Bruce.” Raven cast one more glance at Clark, but he was already gone. All because of her stupid mouth.

She helped Bruce move all the produce into one cart. Raven’s mind was everywhere, but in Bruce’s presence, it kept returning to his words about Damian. I opened my heart and my home to him all the same. Bruce hadn't lied, yet...there was more to parenting than that. 

When Bruce had spoken of Conner, it was so...robotic. He wasn't discussing a teenager, or even a person: he was debating a potential threat. Raven knew Batman’s outlook of the world was logical, but was that truly how he regarded everyone? Including Damian?

Raven found words spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“I don't mean to overstep, but I think your son had a point at the meeting today.” 

“You think so?” Bruce didn't meet her eyes; he was busy staring at the shawarma wraps she had picked out. 

“Yes. He's a brilliant strategist. He knows how to win.” Raven recalled the many dead video game avatars of Beast Boy that Damian had defeated over the years, and the high count of casualties during his leisure time.

Bruce said nothing; he continued to wear his full-lipped smile as he sorted the rest of the items and pushed the cart forward. 

“What?” Raven followed closely, puzzled over his freely-expressed jubilance. 

“Clark’s right. Flashpoint aside, some things never change. I just hope I don't get electrocuted this time around.”

Chapter Text

— T W O   Y E A R S   A G O —

— L O N D O N —

“This is so stupid.”

“Oi! I’m not enjoying myself, either. I could be doing a lot more interesting things on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Yeah, I’m sure liver failure is a big commitment.”

“Okay,” Zatanna scooted forward, leaning between Raven and Constantine from the back seat. Raven’s knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel. When she glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw Etrigan calmly lick his thumb and turn the page on his copy of People Magazine. 

“You’re a bloody seventeen year-old. How do you not know how to drive?” said Constantine, turning in shotgun to give Raven a judgemental look.

She gritted her teeth. She did not like being in such close confines with him. His comments were getting on her nerves. And he smelled. The sharp aroma of liquor mixed with stale vomit. “I’ve been busy.”

“Like you’re one to judge, John.” Zatanna quipped, shifting to keep her uncomfortable position. “You’re terrible behind the wheel. How did you even get a license?” 

“When most sods my age were reenacting the end of Thelma and Louise, I was mastering the dark arts.” 

“Mastering is generous. Oh, Katy Perry’s new album is venerous,” Etrigan flipped to another page. 

“Alright—we’re off topic, I don't want to be parked here all day. Set the knob to drive and let’s shove off.” Constantine grumbled. 

Raven did as she was told and pulled on the “knob.” When it was level with the drive setting, the car started to inch forward in the empty parking lot.

“You’re doing great, sweetie. Let’s go over some basic driving rules first —” said Zatanna.

Constantine dismissed her with a hand. “Blah blah blah, just ignore her. Here’s what you need to know: green means go. Yellow means go faster. Red means go when the coppers aren't looking.”

“Yeah, most of what you said is illegal,” Raven rolled her eyes. In the process, her gaze was drawn to the dashboard, “Can we turn the music on?”

“Yes.”

“No!”

Zatanna and Constantine exchanged a glare.

“She needs to focus. She’s not used to this,” said Zatanna.

“Any situation is improved with Led Zeppelin, Zee,” Constantine gestured at the slowly-inching car, “and this one is in dire need of some improvement. Roth, go to the stop sign. It’s time to release you into the population — and there’s a gas pedal there for a reason. Step on it.” 

Raven tapped the other pedal with her foot. The car lurched forward. The stop sign blurred past them as they met oncoming traffic.

“WOAH —!” Zatanna leaned over and straightened the wheel. Constantine’s face was squished up against the window. Etrigan barely glanced up from his magazine. 

“I never gave Chaz enough credit for raising a daughter,” Constantine yanked himself off the glass surface, rubbing his face. “Bloody hell.”

Raven hardly caught his words. She was too busy trying to figure out the maze of roads before her. Everything was backwards: Londoners drove on the left, opposing every American street she’d been exposed to for the past few years. She hunched down, squinting, trying to stay in between the lines. Raven’s foot cried out in protest of being set at such an odd angle for a long period of time. 

“You’re not even on the road — you’re in the other lane, you have to level yourself!” Constantine gripped the dashboard in front of him. 

“I’m trying — stop yelling at me!” Raven snapped at him.

“Should’ve let Boston join us. He’s dead; he can't die in a car accident. He’s immune,” Constantine covered his eyes.

Something red filled the rearview mirror. “Here’s Boston — oh, fuck.”

“Shit — shit!” The car swerved. Raven winced as horns blared around her. She sank down lower in her seat. 

“Boston!” Zee swatted the air that depicted the ex-trapeze artist’s spectral form. “Bad timing! We’re busy!”

“What? Etrigan texted and said you were getting ice cream.” Boston Brand settled into the empty seat behind Constantine, floating in the unoccupied space.

“You can't even eat it.” Zatanna pointed out. 

“Don't rub it in! I don’t go for the food: I love scaring the kids that work at Dairy Queen by turning the machines on and off.”

Raven shook her head, keeping her eyes on the road. “I should’ve never returned to society. I should’ve stayed in Themyscira — no, I should’ve sailed to an empty island and lived out the rest of my life with a coconut named Wilson.” 

“Don't steal my plan B,” warned Constantine. 

Boston’s form went through Constantine’s chair, his face hovering before the infamous Hellblazer. “You don’t look so good, Johnny. ‘Ey, kiddo, maybe you should stop by a bathroom.”

“Don’t bother. I went on that last turn.” 

“Ew.” Boston shuddered and melted into the backseat. Raven chewed on her bottom lip as a traffic light appeared ahead.

“We’re turning right,” Zee instructed her.

“If you run over pedestrians, you get bonus points!”

“Boston, I will banish you to hell, so help me...” 

Raven turned on the blinker and the car started to slow. She heard someone uncap a marker and scribble across parchment. 

Raven’s eyes slid towards Constantine’s seat. “Are you drawing a pentagram right now?”

“It’s a sign. ‘Says impaired driver. Boston, take this and tape it to the back of the car. Give the wankers some warning.”

“Uh, this says insane driver, not impaired —”

“Shh! Just do it!”

The car steadily approached the crosswalk. Raven looked up and down the street for anyone walking, hopefully not future victims.

“Is that...Nanaue?”

The massive shark was hurrying across the road with his laptop; he was attending MIT online in order to spend more time with John. Apparently, the half-man, half-shark hybrid was an excellent tech wiz.

“Do not hit my boyfriend,” Constantine ordered. 

“I'm not — although, for the record, I do not enjoy listening to you hook up with a shark every night.” Raven involuntarily shuddered, shoving away flashbacks of certain thuds late at night that reverberated throughout the House of Mystery. 

“Agreed,” Boston nodded along with her. “Thank god for the vinyl records — that Marina lady’s a saint. What is she, Welsh?”

“And Greek.”

“Wow. A literal Greek goddess. Can we listen to her right now?”

“NO!”

The stop light turned yellow.

“Speed up, Raven. This light takes forever,” said Zatanna.

“Slow down,” said Constantine. “Do not hit Nanaue. That tall pile of earth-defying genetics is my one source of happiness.”

“High talk from the guy who just said ‘yellow’ means speed up,” Zatanna rolled her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Raven, step on it. We have places to be.”

“Why the rush, Zee? Is there a specific reason you don't want to see him —? You will stop at that crosswalk, young lady!”

“John, don't be an ass. This has nothing to do with us, and everything to do with me wanting ice cream before Boston terrifies the villagers!” 

Raven had enough. She shouted over the chaos, “WILL BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP? CALM DOWN RIGHT NOW OR I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND AND NO ONE’S GETTING ICE CREAM!”

Raven turned her attention back to the road. A tower of silver with a glimmering sheen rose before her. In a hoodie with khakis.

Raven slammed on the breaks. Constantine face-planted against the windshield. Zatanna yelped as her seatbelt tugged her back against the tan leather seats. Boston went flying forward, floating past the outside of the car. 

When the car fully stopped, Raven shut her eyes for a second and took a deep breath. She opened them, and a massive shark (with all limbs attached) waved at them from the front of the car. 

Constantine pulled his face away from the glass (again) and turned to her, “No casualties. A broken nose. An intact boyfriend. Not bad, Roth.”

Boston floated back to the car, scowling, “Uh, I’d like to revisit the ‘no casualties’ part!” 

Etrigan finally looked up from his copy of People Magazine, “Are we there yet? Why is Constantine covered in sweat?” 

“Because parenting bloody sucks, that's why!”

Chapter Text

— T I T A N S   T O W E R —

Raven glanced quickly between the Ipad and the pan before her. One half of the screen displayed Cyborg’s notes on the Flashpoint theory; the other showed a recipe for shawarma. 

The dish of roasting chickpeas hissed before her. Raven idly raised a hand and shadowy tendrils mixed the saucepan with a spoon. With her free hand, she pressed a finger to her lip as she studied the Ipad. 

Raven’s eyes traced the timeline on the screen, an array of events listed by Barry Allen. Most of it matched the log below, which displayed their current timeline. She recognized many overlapping incidents; Trigon’s attempt to invade earth, Deathstroke’s attack on the Titans. Things started to shift when she reached Doomsday…

Raven thought about Bruce’s comment on electrocution at the end of their shopping trip. It sounded like he was familiar with the Flashpoint. Perhaps he was in on it, too? Damian mentioned once that Bruce was oddly open to the theory. If Bruce Wayne remembered the Flashpoint, why hadn't he convinced the Justice League it was possible? What was he hiding —?

The chickpeas spat in retaliation of the heat. Raven’s eyes widened, her attention averted. “Oh — crap.” 

She lowered the temperature of the stove as steam billowed into the air. 

“I can get the fire extinguisher.” 

Raven looked up, which was pointless with the hot vapor. She parted it with a waving hand, and the mists retreated to unveil Damian’s face. 

“Not necessary,” Raven kept her concentration on the dish. “I'm not Gar, who’s murdered countless microwaves.” 

“You seem very confident,” Damian came around the kitchen island and peered over her shoulder. “What are you making?” 

“You can't tell?” Raven turned her head to the side, catching his emerald orbs. Turtlenecks had become a rising fashion with Damian; the ebony fabric strained against the outline of his throat and collarbone. A black trench coat similar to hers was folded over his arm—both garments too hot for San Francisco’s hideously high temperature. He must’ve visited Gotham recently. 

“I’m not an expert in charred remains, but it smells like burnt chickpeas.” said Damian, lips curved up. He reached over and slung his coat over one of the kitchen bar stools.

“They’re not burnt —! I’m making shawarma, the vegetarian version.” 

“Or just the regular version.” 

“Whatever you want to call it.” She beamed at him. 

“So...is there a reason why you decided to make my favorite?” said Damian. 

She glanced over at the Ipad screen, “I wanted to say thank you for the Flashpoint files.”

Damian’s gaze softened. “It was a gift. I don't require anything in return.”

“You’re not the only one allowed to give gifts.” said Raven. “I wanted to do this for you.”

“...Thank you.” 

His response made her fingers awkwardly fumble around the spatula. Goosebumps flared on her arms. Gratitude from him was rare, usually. 

Damian adjusted his position, standing right behind her, “Here, let me,”

His arms came around her, lightly clasping his hand over her own over the spatula. With skilled strokes, he spread the chickpeas evenly across the pan. 

“I didn’t know you cook,” Raven’s voice sounded foreign to her ears; too light and breathy. She would’ve pondered it, but the heat radiating off of Damian was very distracting…

When he shrugged, she felt the movement all around her. “Cooking is a survival skill. Talia made sure I was proficient.”

When Damian spoke, the vibrations fluttered across her skin. The rumble of his baritone nearly made her shiver. Raven took longer than usual to process his words, and when she did, she shook her head absentmindedly. 

I doubt there’s a subject that exists in which Damian Wayne can't achieve proficiency. Quick study my ass. He's Mr. Perfect. 

“What are you thinking about?” He murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.

Raven’s cheeks flared like roses in the spring. The thought of admitting that she was contemplating the non-existent limitations of his perfection made butterflies erupt in her stomach. She chose a different topic. “Your parents are annoying me lately…”

Damian’s hand tightened over hers. “What did father say?”

“Nothing. I'm not annoyed on my behalf, it's just…” Raven found herself unconsciously leaning into his warmth. The meeting that took place in the Hall of Justice flashed across her mind. “They stressed so much about your studies and training...it bugs me that in spite of that, they don't see how much you’ve accomplished. You were one of the smartest people at that meeting yesterday, and that includes Batman. You’ve taken down my father, Deathstroke, and you could probably add Darkseid to the list. You could do anything — you’re pretty perfect.”

There was a little voice inside of Raven screaming; she’d vowed not to share her personal viewpoint on him. But she said it. And there was a strange satisfaction in doing so.

He’s weak. Raven frowned at Trigon’s voice. The warmth and abundance of muscle surrounding her told a different story. 

Trigon always had a fit when it came to Damian. It was one of the rare traits her father and Constantine had in common, aside from bending demons to their will and being irritating life forms. They saw Damian as simply human. Raven didn't see the importance in the characteristic. 

He’s stronger than you are. At least he's not locked up, Raven pointed out. Normally, she tried not to converse with Trigon. It never ended well. It was a terrible idea to continue. 

You think your infatuation with this boy will be fulfilling? You have this cherished moment. How will the future look, I wonder? He is as insignificant — perhaps more — than the worms that inhabit the poisonous morass of our home realm.  You and I are meant to be together. You belong to ME —!

Raven shuddered. She shut him out, pushing his thoughts away. Trigon was only correct on one thing, and that was this moment. She did cherish it. And she would not let him ruin it. 

Damian hadn't said a word during their entire mental exchange. Perhaps she had stunned him into silence. He finally recovered, and Raven could picture his smirk when he spoke, “You think I’m perfect?” 

“Maybe. Just a little bit.” 

“Huh.” Damian removed the chickpeas from the stove, scraping the well-cooked contents into a bowl powdered with spices. 

“You sound...surprised.” She expected some sort of biting remark — or even an egotistical boast. Raven turned in the little space provided, finding his face inches away from hers, and red. Inflammation did not begin to capture the crimson hue of his cheeks.

Azar...is he blushing?

“I thought you were used to people fawning over you all the time.” She recalled many instances when they were younger. Damian would return from galas with over-pinched cheeks. Everyone in Gotham still gushed over him like a movie star nowadays. 

“Not when it's you.”

Her head cocked to the side. “Why am I so special?” 

“Because,” Damian’s eyelashes fluttered as he glanced down. The scent of him captivated Raven’s senses; pine with underlying tones of cinnamon. Every breath he took fanned across her lips. 

“I have fee —”

The buzz of Raven’s phone cut Damian off. She was about to ignore it, dismiss the interruption, but when she glanced at the notification a familiar name flashed. 

Ivy. 

“I'm sorry,” Her voice was light and wispy again. Raven snatched the phone, feeling a pang of agitation as she did so, and glared at the message. Her stomach churned. 

Little Greenhouse of Horrors: Hey. Nanaue did some more digging on the Metropolis location: it's too heavily guarded for us……..I will only ask this ONE time. And I will not be named in any news coverage or associated with you people in any way. For the sake of my reputation.

Little Greenhouse of Horrors: Would the Titans like to play with us? 

Little Greenhouse of Horrors: Also, Harley says hi.

Chapter Text

— M E T R O P O L I S —

Kory’s eyes lingered on everyone before she spoke. “Okay. We’re all aware of the plan?” 

“Yes, dear.” Dick nodded along with the others. “You’re sure this isn't a trap, Raven?”

“Pretty sure. She wants nothing to do with you.” said Raven.

When Raven had informed the Titans of their lead on Project Cadmus, they leapt at the opportunity. Dick hoped it would result in less explosions around Gotham. Raven wished for the same, but she was more worried about Conner. 

“Yep. Sounds like Ivy. We’re all clear. On your command, babe.” 

“Be on your guard. Let’s move.” 

The Titans fanned out. Damian and Jaime circled the outskirts of the property. Conner, Donna and Gar watched from above. Raven simply walked forward, flanked by Dick and Kory, holding a small potted plant.

Project Cadmus’ headquarters towered before them; a massive laboratory with a clinical white sheen. The fortress was lit up at night, but some of the windows remained dark and desolate. Raven hadn't sensed any security yet. The outside cameras were already disposed of. A suspicious-looking van was parked on the street before the entrance. 

When they approached the van, the side door groaned as it drew back. Harley Quinn’s colored pigtails came into view. 

“Welcome to the party! Puberty is treating you well, Nightwing —”

“Thanks, Harley.”

“— Scully, nice to meet you, and Miss Tim Burton!” Harley leapt out of the van, the puff balls attached to her sneakers bouncing. When Harley’s eyes fell to the plant in Raven’s arms, she gasped. 

“Is that bamboo?”

Raven held out the twisted bamboo stalks to her. “It's a heist-warming gift.” 

“Hold up. You got this for us...? That's so sweet of you! Thank you — mwah!” Harley leaned in and kissed Raven on the lips. Kory and Dick gaped at her when she stepped back. 

“Oh wow, you taste like chocolate!” Harley pressed a hand to her bottom lip, staring at Raven in wonder. Raven blinked. The coms had been stunned into silence (except for Gar, who was laughing his ass off). 

“...And you taste like cotton candy.” 

“It's the lip balm. I can give you some if you want —”

“That's okay.” Dick answered for her. “Is your team ready?” 

“Yeppers!” Harley Quinn rapped her knuckles on the side of the van. “Hey, King! You ready in there? Ivy, Alex Russo got you a gift!” 

Two more heads popped out of the van: Raven waved at Nanaue when he emerged. Kory and Dick took a step back warily. 

“Gift? What gift?” Poison Ivy’s eyebrows furrowed as she stepped down on the concrete.

“She got you a bamboo plant! Isn't that nice?”

“Um, yeah...thanks.” Ivy awkwardly accepted the plant and nodded at Raven. 

Harley looked back at the van, then at Nanaue. “What’s the hold up?”

“He's just shy.”

“No he’s not. He's the most outspoken asshole I’ve ever met.” 

“...He’s hiding.”

Harley turned back to Raven. “Your dad Dumbeldore’s got a big mouth on him.”

“I’d take that as an incentive not to kiss me then, love,” A familiar British voice corrected from inside the van. “And I’m bloody sick and tired of correcting you wankers on my parenting status.”

A sandy-blond head of hair peeked out at everyone. John Constantine sighed, and looked over at Nanaue. “Bollocks. This is the worst date night ever.” 

—>*<—

They approached the building together from the side. Raven reluctantly walked beside Constantine as he neared the wall and started to mutter incantations. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” She muttered. 

“Nanaue said it was dangerous. I don't want the man I love to die. What the hell are you doing here?” Constantine glared over his shoulder at her. His face was bathed in a scarlet glow as runes etched themselves onto concrete. 

“Ivy invited me.” 

“Look at you, making friends.” said Constantine.

The concrete bubbled and dripped away, leaving a gaping hole behind. Constantine gestured at the cement. “Remember the animation spell in Budapest —”

“I remember.” Raven cut him off and raised a limp hand. The gray puddle rippled. Slowly it started to rise and move forward. Concrete took the shape of a hooded figure and sauntered forth as a distraction. When everyone entered, they moved in the opposite direction. 

The interior of the laboratory was just as clinical as the outside. Every surface was a pristine white. Naked corridors weaved off in different directions, illuminated by flickering fluorescent beams. Raven felt like an intruder, dressed all in black, like black font upon a blank page. She rubbed her arms from the cold. Each inhale stung from antiseptics and rubbing alcohol.

The group moved into a larger cavern, where the room rose into a dome-shape. 

Conner caught up with Raven, floating just a few inches off the ground as he studied Constantine. “So is that, like, your mentor?”

“No.” Raven and Constantine said together. Raven grimaced at the harsh tone of her voice. “He’s just a glorified wine aunt.”

“And she’s a snarky armrest.” Constantine rolled his eyes. 

“But you do magic stuff, right? That's so cool!” Raven was slightly concerned about the awe in Conner’s expression as he gazed at Constantine. 

“It’s more than just a lightshow.”

“It's still badass.” 

Constantine agreed with a subtle nod. “I like this one.”

Before Raven could make a retort, the laboratory’s security raced out from the winding hallways. She and Constantine exchanged a look.

“Just like old times,” John’s hand went to the pocket of his coat; Raven knew it was the one that he kept a bluetooth speaker in. They always played music when hunting demons and battling spectral forces. 

Raven’s eyes widened at the song that played. A memory flickered to life from months ago, when she still lived in the House of Mystery. She had been dancing around the kitchen to the song when John walked in with boxer shorts, slippers, and his coat disheveled. Then he flaunted the most ridiculous seventies dance moves. Her face flushed as she remembered “making it rain” with sugar packets over John as he played a guitar solo on a broom. 

Old times...something unfamiliar sank in her chest, trying to apply that description to the warm, vibrant memory. 

As security guards aimed their firearms, Raven and Constantine raised their hands. Flames and shadows ripped forth. 

Raven glanced over at him, “Old times? Like your dance-off to save the universe?” 

“Did that really happen...? That sounds awesome!”

“Don't encourage him, Conner!”

The air filled with spiraling magic, thorns, and laser beams. Bee Gees blared from Constantine’s coat. Raven had missed playing music during missions: she always brought earbuds with her. It helped block out Trigon and keep her focused (and made her job a lot more fun). 

Harley Quinn swung from quickly-summoned vines and cut through the guards wearing saffron biohazard suits. Constantine was everywhere, teleporting to and fro as he morphed the henchmen’s weapons into swarms of blue butterflies. Robin and Nightwing advanced upon slowly-gathering forces together, electricity and silver blades echoing across the chamber. 

“This is quite a...direct approach!” Bright jade seared Raven’s eyes as one of Starfire’s energy bolts swerved past. 

Poison Ivy glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “Yeah, my girlfriend doesn't do stealthy…”

“HI-YAH!” A crunching sound and a scream followed. 

Raven felt Starfire’s back against hers. “Crazy humans,” she heard the Tamoranian mutter. 

Raven pointed with her pinkie and index finger at three goons clustered together. Azarath metrion zinthos.

Tendrils of shadow shot up from the ground and punched all three in the face. They crumbled like marionettes with their strings cut.

Everyone froze as a loud roar made the building shudder.

Unconsciously, Raven sought Constantine’s gaze. She found his quickly across the room as he was currently perched atop King Shark’s shoulder. Raven followed his horrified stare…

Robin’s sword dripped with blood. He usually used his polearm, but one goon had gotten too close. It was a small wound, Raven could hardly glimpse it from where she was. Just a line of red on the henchmen’s arm. 

“Nanaue —!” Constantine called out, but he was flung from the tower of silver. Raven’s reflexes reacted before her mind, summoning a barrier of violet before John hit the hard concrete flooring. Then she turned to Nanaue —

Who barreled towards Damian, thirsting for human flesh. 

“King Shark — NO! HE’S NOT A NUM-NUM! ROBIN IS NOT A NUM-NUM! GO GET NUM-NUMS OVER THERE!” Harley shrieked from somewhere nearby. 

A sheet of terror fell over Raven. No. The entire universe vanished in an instant. Entirely absorbed by one moment. Nanaue’s footsteps thrummed across the room louder than thunder, but the high-pitched ring in Raven’s ears was deafening. Her entire body braced for impact like she was about to be hit by a car. 

Rows of sharp teeth were inches away from Damian’s face —

The first thing Raven noticed was the feel of the air: the icy, penetrating draft of the laboratory stilled. Every sound — starbolts, magic, voices, the hum of machinery — all had gone silent.

Raven’s lungs burned. She stared in horror at King Shark. He was still inches away from Damian, rows of teeth like daggers glinting in the fluorescent lights. 

He didn't move.

All motion had ceased.

Dead silence. 

Raven looked around, wondering if it was shock consuming her: those cliche moments people described in terror where time seemed to stop. Everyone else was frozen in place. Constantine was still hovering above the ground. Harley’s gaze was trained on King Shark, arm outstretched towards him even though she was yards away. Half of Dick Grayson’s body was turned towards Damian, completely ignoring the enemy before him. One of his electrical batons had slipped from his hand, stuck in the air just below his fingertips. 

Raven clenched and unclenched her fists. She could still move. Wetting her lips, she looked in Constantine’s direction. “John…?”

The croak that escaped Raven’s mouth interrupted the spell of silence, like a branch snapping in a forsaken forest. Her throat was still burning. Had she screamed before? She couldn't recall, but when she breathed it hurt. 

Raven turned back to Damian, about to be devoured. She had been staring at him when reality started to do...whatever this was. Studying the scene before her, with the silver shadow of death leering dangerously close to Damian, made her sick. Raven hugged her arms to her chest. Her mouth filled with saliva and her stomach churned.

“Do not throw up,” She muttered to herself. “Do not throw up...” 

The echo of the mantra made her shiver. Such a solitary...lonesome sound. Like the only sound in the universe. 

Did I...make...time...stop?

Chapter Text

Raven’s gaze darted around her desolate, unlively surroundings. I really do not like this...make it stop —

Like a switch had been turned, sound and air and light ripped across the room. 

A flash of gold light blocked her view. Damian was hidden by the gold mist. Despite the snarls and ripping sounds Raven heard, she ran towards the noise. Her lungs burned.

Whatever happened...it stopped. Hallucination, maybe? What is all of this? What the hell is going on with me? The clones, everything stopping...I should probably talk to someone...is Harley available? Wait, that’s probably a really bad idea. You know what? I’m super busy right now. Let’s just...live in denial for a while until I have the time to deal with this. Yes. That sounds like a great plan.

That is terrible reasoning, daughter. 

Oh, shut up!

Nanaue had demolished the wounded guard. All that was left of him was a red stain on the ground. The massive shark had already moved on to another target. Damian, however —

Was nowhere to be seen.

Raven scanned her surroundings, tugging away the stray hands near her face, removing her hands to cup them over her mouth. 

She didn't see anything. Raven turned towards Constantine; the source of the golden light. He was still on the ground. What had he done —?

“Raven!”

Raven’s eyes widened at Damian’s voice. She looked down, following the delightful baritone. She noticed a peculiar black spot on the ground.

Wait a minute…

Raven slowly sunk down, ignoring the patch of red nearby. She heard the murmur of the Titans, but couldn't make out the words. And if she did, they were forgotten right after she’d registered them. The world had become prickly, everything covered in needles, and she shied away from all of it. She focused on the small mark… 

Raven kneeled on the ground, inspecting the tiny spot further.

A tiny Damian waved at her with his sword. “Raven! Turn me back before those imbeciles lose sight of the objective!”

She had forgotten that her hands were still covering the bottom half of her face. She slowly removed them, “Damian…?”

Repurposing her trembling hands, she cupped them and set them on the ground. Tiny Damian climbed into her joined palms. 

Raven brought her hands up to her eye level, marveling at the miniature Damian Wayne. He looked unharmed; his Robin uniform had also shrunk, and his sword became the same length of a sewing needle. 

“You’re okay!” The corners of her eyes burned, and her throat closed up. Her voice was reduced to a light rasp, like the flutter of hummingbird wings.

“I am physically well, but I am about to endure a lot of meaningless ridicule —”

“Damian —! Oh, wow. Little D takes on a whole new meaning,” Dick crouched down and peered at the phenomenon over Raven’s shoulder. 

Constantine strode over to them, casually brushing himself off. He threw a wary look at King Shark as he continued his rampage, “Well...at least I don't have to pay for dinner.” 

Raven held up her joined palms — the movement was slow, trying her best not to overwhelm Tiny Damian. “You shrunk him?”

“You could say that. I returned him to his normal size.” Constantine shrugged. 

Raven glared. “You could’ve teleported him. What if someone stepped on him?”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice. I did just save your precious Baby Bat’s life.” 

“Um, guys? Is anybody gonna stop the shark from going berserk? It's like Jaws up in here!” Jaime shouted over the coms. “Beast Boy, you talk to him!”

“Uh — bonjour! Guttentag!”

“Don't pretend like you don't understand English! Get your jolly green ass over there!”

“Hola!”

“DAMN YOU!”

Raven stood hesitantly, still balancing Tiny Damian in her palms. He braced himself against her index finger. Raven marveled at how small his hand felt, how light and gentle his touch was. 

“Raven, please tell me you possess the ability to return me to my normal state.” 

Raven bit her lip. I do, but...do I really want to? He's just so cute like this! And I don't think I could take it if he had another near-death experience. 

“Uh…”

Another tremor shook the laboratory. Everyone looked in the direction of King Shark, but he had taken care of the rest of the security; some of his self-control had returned, and he frowned at the crimson splotches that stained his hoodie. 

A garbled noise echoed down from the many corridors. 

Poison Ivy glared at the numerous entryways in the large domed room. “What the fuck is that noise? Is that your stomach, Nanaue?”

“Ivy, I think you know me well enough that I would excuse myself if my stomach was gurgling.”

“My apologies. I should never have doubted your flawless etiquette.”

Conner’s eyes flashed as he searched the halls with X-ray vision. “There!” He pointed towards one hallway. “Wait...it looks...familiar…how?”

Raven followed his gaze. Tiny Damian climbed up and peered over the peaks of her fingertips. 

A sagging face materialized in the dark. Flabby skin parted to reveal crooked teeth. Raven recognized it; the image Ivy had shown her so long ago at Poison Chives. They exchanged a look now. Ivy’s lips were pressed together and her skin had taken on a lighter lime tint. 

“What are they?” Conner wondered aloud. The silhouette of the lumbering figure morphed, expanding. There was more than one. 

“Human experimentations of Project Cadmus.” Ivy's tone was curt as she stepped in front of Harley. “That's why we invited you here. And now we’re all fucked.”

Chapter Text

Hello Awesome People!! Thank you all for the love you've shown this story, I've enjoyed this journey with you so much. I can't believe how fast we're moving!! :o

I mentioned that I wanted to do more one-shots for every 1k special exclusives we reach, but because you're amazing and things are really heating up in the story, I wanted to do something extra special: YOU get to decide what our next special exclusive is!

You get to pick the topic for our next "extra" for the book: whether it be our two main ships (Damirae & Konrae) or something else involving our beloved cast (a Harlvy scene, John Constantine being a Tired Parent, etc.)

I've made a Google Form where you can post what you have in mind anonymously, however, if you're comfortable leaving a comment here, you're free to do it that way as well!

Link to Google Form: https://forms.gle/fuf5wHaxJeWiZciC9

The winning topic will decide what our next special exclusive will be! But don't worry if your fave didn't get picked; I'll be looking at what everyone's interested in, and we'll probably see it in the future c:

I hope you guys like it! Thank you so much for everything!! KEEP BEING AWESOME!!

Chapter Text

Raven glanced down at Tiny Damian. Then to the mutated monsters. Back to Tiny Damian, just barely the height of her index finger. 

“I can turn you back, but it will take a minute. One that we don't have. How about you hang out on my shoulder for a while?” She asked him. 

Damian pouted, but grumbled out a “fine,” as she lifted her hand to her right shoulder.

Constantine watched the exchange with a huff, “Cheers, love. You now have a literal devil on your shoulder.”

“I can still throw my sword at you, Constantine!”

“Oh, ouch. That would be a real nasty blister.”

“Um, perhaps we can return to the task at hand?” Kory’s worried remark through the com snapped Raven’s attention back to the new threat.

Raven winced as she reached out with spectral senses, scanning the mutated forms as they entered the large room. They were humanoids. Confusion, pain — waves of overwhelmed feelings assaulted her as she scanned them. Emotions of memories rippled across her mind. The ever-claustrophobic confines of glass. Looking out, always murky, unclear...murmurs of indistinct conversation...valley of failures...intruders...panicked voices...desperate times, desperate measures...

Raven pressed a finger to the com in her ear. “They’re the laboratory’s failed experiments. They’ve been held in captivity ever since their creation. The staff released them when we broke in.”

Kory and Conner shot past. A lightshow of searing scarlet and blazing malachite glared across every surface. 

The sound of leaves rustling tickled Raven’s ears as Ivy came to her side. “You think you can make a portal?”

“Where to?” Raven summoned a shield just as one of the creatures tried to pluck Conner out of the sky. They hissed and staggered away from the violet matter. 

“The Amazon Rainforest. This place has too many chemicals to summon more plants. I need a loophole,” Ivy gestured at the few vines that remained, snapped apart mercilessly by one of the mutation’s off-centered mouths. 

“Or she’s trying to escape.” Robin warned on her shoulder. 

“Are you kidding? We have to go home after this to let Harley’s coyotes out. We can't take any vacations thanks to her five-thousand dollar mammals.”

Raven obliged. The hairs on her arms stood up as she concentrated on the far-off place, connecting to its spectral energies. 

As soon as the lavender tendrils rippled through the air, ripe green saplings crept out. They flourished, expanding across the canvas of white. Angel’s trumpets bloomed like sped-up videos, parting their pink petaled lips and drooling poison. 

Ivy’s plants invaded and consumed, crawling up two of the mutations. Harley waved at her off to the side, “You’re doing great, sweetie! See that? That’s my girlfriend.”

Nightwing leapt from one of the monsters before he was crushed, landing next to the pig-tailed gymnast. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called to Starfire, “You go, babe! That’s my girlfriend.”

Harley winked at him. “Red-head girlfriends squad!”

Raven scanned the room, from the cheerleaders to the rest of the team. Everything was a flurry of motion and sound —

Until Raven caught a wisp of an emotion. Fear.

There was always fear radiating from fights, but this was different. Raven searched for the source —

Someone in a lab coat was peeking down one of the corridors. When they were aware of Raven’s gaze, they panicked and ran. 

Damian noticed. “If we interrogate them, they’ll reveal more of Project Cadmus.”

Raven agreed. She signaled to Ivy before the portal collapsed. The image of the bright jade jungle dissipated. Raven’s boots left the ground as she pursued the fleeing scientist. 

The walls closed in as she followed the flapping alabaster wings of a lab coat. Fear lingered in the air, thick as if it were its own presence or a pungent smell. 

“Are you okay?” Raven shot a quick glance down at her shoulder to make sure Damian was still there. Instead of ripping or knotting the fabric, he tied himself to one of the many spiked flaps of her cloak. It still amazed her to see him in this state, so small and unbelievably cute. 

“Yes — he turned left up ahead.”

“Thanks.” 

Raven took the left and yelped when someone stood in her way. It was one of her doppelgängers. The yellow gem flickered on the clone’s forehead. 

“Turn around now.”

Raven paused before the Other Raven. Damian’s head tilted to the side on her shoulder, “What — is this you?”

She sighed. Perhaps it was a good sign that she wasn't the only one who could see them. It meant her mental state hadn't stooped to delusional. “Thank god. You can see it, too.” 

“Has this happened before —?”

“You need to leave. Now.” The Other Raven said in a more stern tone. 

Raven sidestepped to go around her, and the clone intercepted. Raven studied the all-too familiar face. She had thought that the clones were harmless up until now; it was why she had put Project Cadmus and other concerns first. Was this Project Cadmus’ doing? 

“Can we do this another time?” Raven pressed, leaning on her tiptoes to watch the scientist slip around the corner. Her nostrils flared. “If this is Trigon trying to screw with me, or something else —”

“I told you, you need to move —!” The Other Raven’s stern tone was suddenly cut off by the sound of the air vents. The world around them became a haze filled with black smoke. Raven heard Damian call her name. 

Raven covered her mouth and nose, but it was no use. She had already inhaled once, and numbness settled into her bones. Part of her felt detached in that moment, like she was astral projecting, but not all of her had returned to her body. She was slipping away…

The darkness curled in around her like the ebony wings of a raven, eternal night reigning.

Chapter Text

Black spots danced before Raven’s vision. A gallery of blurred faces were looking at her. They were all the same. Perfectly identical. 

When Raven blinked, it narrowed down to one.

They were in an interrogation room. A long pane of reflective glass covered the left wall, mirroring the anomaly within. Raven found herself sitting at the table, handcuffed, but that was hardly a setback. She was more concerned about her doppelgänger across the room.

“They sent gas through the vents. I’m not an expert on chemical compounds, but I wonder if it was carbon monoxide or chloroform,” said her clone.  

“What the hell are you?” said Raven. 

The saffron jewel glimmered on her twin’s forehead as she cocked her head to the side. “I’m you.” 

The doppelgänger sauntered forward and took the metal seat across from Raven. The glass mirrored her actions, recording the confrontation between the two Ravens. 

Raven glanced down, suddenly realizing Damian was gone. He was no longer tied to her cloak. “Dami —”

“He’s right here,” The Other Raven reached out with her hands, gently settling the miniaturized, limp Damian on the table. “Still alive. We recover quicker. It’s a half-demon thing, I think.” 

“How do we know that?” 

“I told you. I’m you. Honestly, I’m shocked it’s taken you this long to catch on,” said the Other Raven. She yawned and summoned a book. As she did so, Raven noticed that her clone wasn't handcuffed. There was a forsaken pair on the table before her, the metal twisted and broken by something inhuman.

Raven glared at her reading doppelgänger. 

“Would you mind explaining what you are? How many of you are there...?” 

The Other Raven shrugged, peering over at her from the rim of her book, “Each and every one of us are your emotions, manifested into physical form. Emoticlones, if you will. Do you like that term? I just came up with it.” 

The Other Raven was pleased with herself, closing her book to hug it to her chest. “For every emotion, there’s an emoticlone: Joy, Passion — more like lust, really — Love, Fear, Rage. You ran into Timid the other day at the store. I suppose you could rename us all after gems like in Steven Universe, but that would probably be more confusing for the readers.

“I’m Wisdom. I prefer to be called The Comedian. Most of your sarcastic comments are my work.”

Raven brewed over the information silently for a moment. It was her doing all along. It was all her. Raven thought she had gotten a better handle over powers and emotions, especially after staying with John. She thought she was getting better, more accustomed to riding this dragon. What little triumph she used to feel turned to ashes in her mouth. 

’You’re more…emotional,’ Dick’s words taunted her.

Was this how it was always going to be? Raven thought things would’ve gotten easier eventually. She wasn't a teenager anymore — she couldn’t blame her powers’ little quirks on hormones. Wasn't she supposed to be done with these crises? Would it ever end? 

The Comedian snorted and spoke as if she’d heard Raven’s thoughts — and she probably did. “It’s life. Lower your expectations. It always sucks.”

“I know that. I just...I thought it would get better by now.” Raven’s throat was closing up, but now was not the time to get upset. The person sitting before her was the literal embodiment of the reason not to. Yet her mind persisted on thinking about the doppelgängers, and the frozen moment in time with King Shark, and this stupid room with mirrors —

“Yeah, I wouldn't think about what happened...just now.” The Comedian shook her head briskly. “That moment with Nanaue. I’m the least emotional out of all the emoticlones, and that even scared the crap out of me. Let’s not linger on that, please. Think of something else.” 

“Why are you here?” Raven asked softly. “Why are you doing this…?”

The Comedian smiled. 

“To do whatever the hell we want.” 

Raven didn't know what to make of that. It was such a broad statement. Perhaps The Comedian did that on purpose. Nonetheless, the room seemed colder after that. 

“I’m thinking my first move will be to manipulate Bravery into attacking random people with a marshmallow shooter. Ha! Nothing says vive la révolution like public uproar. Your reputation is so dead.” The Comedian tapped the spine of her book as she smirked at empty space, probably devising more schemes to humiliate Raven. 

Raven wondered why “Wisdom” acted in such a way. She expected a more mature, commonsense-savvy version of herself. Was this some jab at her low self-esteem? Or, perhaps her emotions had no concept of commonsense? She’d been neglecting them for nearly two decades. What if they were all childlike, never taught to mature because they were always restrained? Was that the true reason for their uprising?

Raven disintegrated the handcuffs, then folded her arms on the table and buried her face in the dark sleeves. A tremor reverberated through her body. 

She wished John was here. She knew it was weird to think that. She would never admit it out loud. But John solved problems. His solutions were never perfect, and when it came to emotion, John Constantine walked in the opposite direction. But he was good with the mind-bending, heart-breaking calamities. Raven missed him.

“Raven…?”

Something gently tapped Raven’s finger. When she peeked up, over her stacked forearms, eye level with Tiny Damian.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Are you all right?” Damian asked. He kept his small hand on her finger. Raven didn't know what she looked like. All she had to do was turn left, to see her face in the mirror, but she didn't want to. She avoided her own gaze as much as possible. 

Raven sat up, keeping her head elevated with her hand. “I'm sorry the scientist got away.”

“That's not an answer.”

“We could search the building,” As soon as she uttered the words, the room shook. Dust trickled from the ceiling as the laboratory groaned.

“—TT— the architectural structure is compromised, no doubt caused by everyone’s careless flamboyance.” Tiny Damian rolled his eyes. “I think it’s best that we leave.”

“I’ll turn you back first.”

“Thank you.” 

Raven knew that if she kept him small, he would still be in close proximity to her face. She didn't want to answer questions. 

When she stood, Raven realized that her doppelgänger was gone. Vanished. Like the emoticlones never existed. Raven knew better. A sense of dread already collected in her chest. It wasn't over. 

Raven focused her attention on Damian. When she raised her hand, the aura of Constantine’s spell clung to his form. “Azarath Metrion Zinthos.” 

Black and gold intertwined. Damian stepped out of the powdered mist, back to his towering six-foot form. He closed the distance between them in a single stride. His emerald gaze then flickered over her face. 

“I overheard some of the conversation with your —”

“I really don't want to talk about it right now.” Raven bit down on her lip, ashamed of how hoarse her voice was. 

Damian paused, then asked, “Can you teleport us to Gotham?”

“That's not where the Titans are —”

“That’s irrelevant.” Damian cut her off, shooting her an apologetic look as he did so. “It will be dealt with later.”

“Where?”

“Doesn’t matter. Anywhere you want.” 

Raven didn't say another word. She summoned a portal and gestured for him to walk through. 

When she arrived after him, they were on an empty rooftop overlooking the gloomy, gothic city. A light drizzle was slowly increasing over Gotham, icy teardrops staining the sidewalk below. The neon signs from a nearby building bathed them in a pink-violet glow. 

Damian was waiting for her on the other side. She looked around, not knowing what to expect. “Why are we here?”

“Gotham relaxes you when you’re upset,” he muttered, handing her a pair of wireless earbuds before he pulled her into an embrace. Soft music began to play.

Raven accepted the warmth of his embrace against the cool raindrops that slid down her cheek. “I screwed up.” 

“Highly unlikely,” Damian’s breath blew against her hair.

“I thought I was getting better with...all of this,” She squeezed her eyes shut, leaning into the soft microfiber of his Robin uniform. 

“Look at what you’re up against,” Damian pointed out, “As far as keeping magical entities in check, you’re excelling.” 

“Come on, Damian!” Raven looked up at him and scowled. “Wild Ravens are literally terrorizing the populace.” 

“With marshmallow shooters.” 

She groaned and hid her face in the warm comfort of his chest. He held her tighter. “I think you’re neglecting the advantages of this.”

“Oh? Please enlighten me, Mr. Wayne.”

Damian pulled away a little to catch her gaze. He lightly tucked away stray hairs sticking to her face in the rain. His touch sent an electric shock across her skin. 

“Well, Ms. Roth, they’re all a part of you. There’s more than one of you, and I don’t see how that's a terrible thing. Look at how many lives you’ve protected and enriched, how...good you are.” Damian always spouted statistics, but this was different. He iterated praise in the same tone as if it was it's own fact. Something he truly believed. “How can more of you be a subject of concern?”

It happened so quickly, Raven didn’t know how it began. 

It was so natural, like a star constellation or the concept of gravity itself. 

A magnetic pull, a universe bright and blazing. 

But it was so much more. 

And even those cosmic occurrences failed to describe what happened when Raven kissed Damian. 

His lips were soft, and he tasted so good in the rain. It was as if all the small electrical charges she’d felt in his presence had united, settling beneath her skin, following wherever her skin touched his. 

“See the sky and all the land together again,” 

Raven’s arms curled around his neck, in some vain attempt to close any distance between them, to grasp ahold of the moment and cling to his warmth in the cool downpour. Fire and ice, burning. Thrilling jolts beneath her fingertips, lightly tugging at his hair.

“See the way the earth can stay below,” 

Damian groaned into her mouth, the sound vibrating across her lips and resonating in her ears. His hands sank beneath the fabric of her cloak, pressing their bodies together. Damian was the only other person in the world. She basked in the symphony of the raindrops and their lips smacking and the soft melody in her earbuds. 

“Who do we think we are? Everything plays a part

There are some things we are never meant to know.” 

They broke apart for air. Forehead resting against his, Raven opened her eyes. Neon lights from above bathed skin and fabric in technicolor wonder. Damian’s pupils were blown as wide as Raven had ever seen, framed by gorgeous, dew-soaked eyelashes. Her gaze trailed down to his swollen lips. 

And then the memories resurfaced.

Chapter Text

You know what you have to do, mate. Clear the board. Start again. 

This can only be looked at as a prelude to war. 

NO ONE WILL MOURN YOU.

Can’t even be a corpse in peace.

You’re the strongest person I know.

YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME — AND NOW I’M GONNA MAKE YOU PAY!

Oh, bollocks, it's my ex!

King Shark is a shark!

And so it ends, my race is run...I regret nothing...it was fun.

It won't be perfect. We’ll be a long sight better than what we’ve got now.

...I had feelings for you.

Raven removed her arms from Damian’s neck to massage her temples. What is this? An entire lifetime crashed over her, filling her mind. Like repressed memories coming to light. 

“Raven?” Damian’s hands covered hers. “What’s wrong?”

Flashes of glowing eyes and glimmering fortresses, one alight with magma, the other crystallized like ice. Triumphant shrieks of Paradooms, swarming over cities…

Raven tried her best to push the overwhelming thoughts away. She focused on Damian’s face before her, “You don't see it?”

“See what?” 

It took her a minute to even find words to describe it. When she did, her breath stopped. 

“He was right.” Her voice was small. “It’s all real.” 

“Who?” More raindrops fell, flattening Damian’s hair as water trickled down his jawline. He didn't move to brush them away. 

“Clark — the Flashpoint. It’s real. I remember...I think Bruce does, too,” She pressed a hand against the gem on her forehead that was now throbbing. Trigon was shifting through the images, watching, observing. A furious roar entered her mind whenever memories of Darkseid resurfaced. 

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “What did you see?” 

When Raven opened her mouth to answer, a buzz cut her off. Someone was calling Damian. When he glanced at the screen, his expression hardened. “Hold on. Let’s see if Father can answer.” 

Raven nodded as he brought the phone to his ear. Part of her was relieved for the interruption. It was hard to form sentences with the flood of images in her head, sucking away at her concentration like a ravenous maelstrom. 

Raven overheard the low monotone murmur of Batman’s voice on the line.

“How long have you known about the Flashpoint?” Damian cut him off. “Why haven't you informed the Justice League —?”

Damian’s question was met with a harsh tone. Raven stood awkwardly silent before him, trying to not stare at his lips. She surveyed the abandoned rooftop as the rain continued to pour, seeing things that weren't there.

“No. I won't be joining you,” Damian’s refusal caught her attention. Raven had no idea how the conversation had morphed. 

“I don't care about the most useful skill set — ask Cass. You assigned me to the Titans, I am doing what you asked,” Damian snapped. “Raven told me she remembered —”

His expression blanked, shock caressing his features. Damian glanced at the call screen, then his eyes flitted back to Raven. “He wants to talk to you.”

“What?”

Raven thoughts trailed back to the calm, collected billionaire at the store. She doubted this exchange would be as lighthearted — that term hardly applied to their first conversation.

Damian held out the phone. Raven hesitantly brought the device to her ear, “Yes?”

“Do not tell anyone else.” When Batman spoke, there were no remnants of the charming tenor that Raven recalled from the supermarket. Her head tilted to the side, shooting Damian a look of confusion.

“Why?” She asked, retreating deeper into her cloak as the onslaught of rain continued.

“Reiterate the same message to Clark,” Batman said. “Tell him to refrain from revealing any other details of the Flashpoint. Do not notify the Justice League of this.” 

Whatever benefit there was to concealing the Flashpoint from the Justice League, Raven couldn't discern. She couldn't read his emotions over the phone, either. No clues. None of it made sense. 

Raven bit down on her lip. “If I’m being told to lie, I’d better have a good reason for doing it.”

“You will.”

“I’d like to know what that reason is.”

“The less you know, the better.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed. She held the phone away from her mouth, covering the speaker so she could whisper to Damian, “Is he always like this?”

“Cynical, distrusting, and wielding little respect for human life forms?”

“Well...yeah.” 

Damian nodded once. “That would be father.” 

Raven shook her head as she returned the phone to her ear. She jumped when a quick reply crackled out of the phone, “Let’s see how trusting you are after five kids.” 

“Is that all?” Raven asked warily. 

“Yes. Put Damian back on the line.”

Raven returned the device to its rightful owner, exhaling after the odd exchange had ended. 

Why not tell the Justice League? There had to be some reason, some drawback from doing so. What wasn't she supposed to know…?

Raven was still bombarded by memories, flashes across the mind. Her body tensed as the emotions of every fleeting moment came to light, like fireworks going off in a closet. A dull throb resonated in the back of her skull.

Raven wandered from Damian and sat upon the edge of a skylight’s rim. She had to find Clark. He would know more — he could help her sort this out, if he was still willing to speak to her. The only issue was locating him...where was Clark Kent? 

“Oh.” Raven hadn't meant to speak out loud. The answer rushed over her from a silvery waterfall of flashbacks. Of course.

Damian joined her when the phone conversation ended. He sat beside her. The air between them was...different. Raven peeked over at him — only to catch his gaze when he was doing the same. She averted her eyes, face feeling hot despite the cool rain. 

“I have to report to the Batcave,” Damian said dully. 

“And I have to find Clark.” Raven glanced down at her fingers. 

With Damian so close, another realization hit, nearly buried by the Flashpoint memories. I kissed him. Raven’s skin prickled with heat when his arm brushed against hers. She hadn’t planned on kissing him — why did she do it? It was sudden, like she had flipped a switch and turned on autopilot. Perhaps if she didn't have thousands of new memories, all shimmering brightly like reflective panes of glass in the light, she could compose a coherent thought.

So...what now?

Raven couldn't stand the silence that stretched between them. 

“I just wanted to —”

“Why did —”

Raven’s mouth clamped shut when he spoke at the same time. 

“Sorry, I cut you off.”

“No, please continue.”

Their gazes collided, almost daring the other to go first. Raven sighed. She had been attacked from all sides in a single evening. And she was not in the right frame of mind for this.

“Raven...what does this mean for us?” Damian didn't have to identify what he spoke of. 

Raven tugged random hair strands away from her face. “To be honest…? I don't know. I don't know why I did it — I don't know if it was because I was freaking out, or —”

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, and she saw the look on Damian’s face, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. Then a sickening, stomach-lurching wave of nausea fell over her. Her insides were aching, her throat was collapsing in on itself —

This is his pain. I'm feeling his pain. From my words.

Damian had stilled, nodding slowly. When he stood, it was a stiff, awkward movement, lacking all of the agility he usually had. 

“Damian —”

“I have to see my father.” 

Raven winced at how flat his voice hit against her ears. She followed him as he neared the edge of the rooftop, “Damian, wait — I —”

Robin leapt off the ledge, and descended into the gloom. 

I'm sorry.

—>*<—

Raven awkwardly rapped her knuckles on the icy surface. The sound echoed from the inside. 

Cold cut through Raven’s clothes as the iron moon above revealed slices of the structure before her. There wasn't much light at the top of the world. Some surfaces shimmered, others were cloaked in inky black shadows, concealing their true forms. Raven’s toes curled in her boots, stained by the snow. 

The massive fortress groaned as the sliver of ice before her receded. Clark blinked before her, dumbfounded at her presence. 

“I remember everything.” She told him. “And I screwed it all up.”

Chapter Text

— F O R T R E S S   O F   S O L I T U D E —

“I’m so glad you remember — finally, someone else to talk to about all of this,” Clark said.

Clark led Raven through the magnificent halls of icicles. Alien technology greeted them at the door and politely offered to take Raven’s cloak (it was literally a blizzard outside. She refused to hand over the beloved fabric). Their footsteps echoed across the glossy floor. 

“We were so close — you’re like family. It's good to have you back,” Clark glanced over at her, flashing a warm, gentle smile. 

Raven expected some frigid remnants from their last conversation about Conner. If it still bothered Clark, he concealed it well. She respected and appreciated his choice not to linger on it. The voice he spoke in — light and tender like a morning summer sun — was the most soothing feature of her long, horrendous day.

“You too...but I still don't really know what happened. I'm sorting everything out,” said Raven.

“Yeah, it's like that in the beginning.” Clark shrugged. “It goes away, I promise.” 

They reached a room filled with consoles. There was camping equipment scattered across the ground, including an unrolled sleeping bag. A full DVD set of Golden Girls was discarded nearby. Raven glanced down as something crunched beneath her feet; it was a chip bag. 

“Clark, I don't really know how to ask this…” Raven’s eyes narrowed at the hot plate in the corner. “But are you living here?”

Clark stiffened. He fiddled with the sleeves to his plaid shirt — he wasn't in uniform, either. “Maybe...a little bit...yeah.”

He sighed. “I couldn't keep up with the rent for my apartment in Metropolis, so I kind of settled in here. I have plenty of room, though. Never have to worry about neighbors stomping around or playing music.”

“True, just someone outside yelling ‘mush’ at sled dogs,” said Raven. 

Clark tapped two random spots on the nearest shard of ice; a hidden compartment full of coffee mugs appeared. “Want some tea? I have your fave.”

“Sure, thanks.” Raven looked around, trying to determine where the best place to sit was.

“Alright, man. I’m not Cyborg, but I think the alien tech will now play Always Sunny in Philadelphia — oh. Ray’s here.”

Raven spun as someone else entered the room. She greeted him on instinct, yet she was positive she hadn’t met him before — not in this timeline, anyhow. “Hi, John.”

John Henry Irons, the alter ego of Steel, grinned as he crossed the glittering threshold. Flickers of old conversations popped to life when she saw him. They had spent some time together during the Flashpoint. She remembered random things; how he always slept with socks and loved his label maker. 

“Wow. It's been a lifetime, literally,” Irons chuckled when he was just a foot away.

“You remember the Flashpoint, too?”

Irons nodded. “It was when I got my ass kicked two days ago. Got smashed into a wall. Then everything clicked. You?”

“Um,” She bit her lip, hesitant to disclose what action had triggered her memories. The gentle press of Damian’s lips, the way he groaned into her mouth —

The pain that twisted his face, the ache in his chest that Raven felt too, made her cringe. 

Irons held up his hands. “Ey, we went through hell. Wouldn't be surprised if something unpleasant brought them up. You don't have to tell me.”

“Thanks.” 

Clark joined them, handing out coffee mugs all around. Raven softly inhaled the vapor. It was her first moment of zen after the bombardment of events. Invading Cadmus, time warps, emoticlones, Damian...she hadn’t realized it before, perhaps it was the adrenaline, but she was exhausted. When she closed her eyes, her lids burned. Raven was aware of every single sore limb in her body. It was a wonder she was still standing.

“You never told me. When did your memories return...? Besides the picture of me from Diana,” Raven asked Clark.

Clark glanced down at the amber liquid in his cup. “When Lois left the country.” 

“Oh…” It took a few minutes to remember Lois’ demise from the Flashpoint. She didn't know how Clark could bear to be away from her now. 

“Did you know that Bruce remembers too?”

The bug-eyed look Clark gave Raven obviously meant he hadn't. “Bruce knows?”

Raven nodded. “He told me not to say anything to the Justice League. He wanted me to tell you the same thing.” 

Irons frowned over the rim of his mug as he took a tentative sip. “Why the hell does the Bat wanna keep the Flashpoint secret?”

“I don't know.” Clark wandered back to the row of consoles. He stared at the crystalized counter in thought, then pressed a few keys. Ice hissed as it erupted from the ground, creating furniture to rest upon. 

“Why don't we sit down? You look ready to fall asleep, Ray.”

And face the nightmares from today? No thanks. Raven took a seat regardless. Clark passed around pillows and blankets to mask the hardness of the ice. Raven gathered her cloak around her, holding her mug with both thawing hands. 

“Clark! I'm heading back now,” A melodic reply twinkled throughout the room like chimes as another newcomer appeared. 

Supergirl floated down, landing before them. When her eyes fell upon Raven, she gasped. 

“O. M. G. It's you! I am such a huge fan!” Kara Danvers squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she gazed at Raven.

Raven glanced behind her chair. No one else was there. She turned back to the strongest Kryptonian on earth and pointed to herself. “Me?” 

“Yes! You’re Rachel Roth! You are so cool — Clark, why didn't you tell me she was coming? You are so awesome, you’re my favorite Titan! Oh my god, I’m such a stan! This is the best day ever!” Kara beamed at her, clapping her hands with delight.

Raven hadn't moved a muscle during Kara’s confession. She’d never met a fan before. Raven had fans? She dared to google herself once. Reddit referred to her as an “emo bitch” among other colorful names. After getting a feel for her public appearance, Raven decided never to do the social experiment again. 

But of all the people who could admire her...Supergirl liked her? The Supergirl? Cousin of Superman, a golden retriever in woman form, the literal embodiment of sunshine. She thought Raven was cool?

Raven looked over at Clark. “I think I'm hallucinating. Did you drug my tea, or am I really that tired?”

“It's not a fantasy. All superheroes have fans.”

“What did you put in my mug? LSD? PCP?”

“Is it that hard to accept a compliment?”

“Yes. It really is.” Raven looked back at the blonde alien, whose hands were pressed to her collarbone with an awestruck look. 

“We should totally get some coffee sometime, if you’re free — wait! Almost forgot! Ha! You’re a tea person!” Raven’s eyes widened at Kara’s inner knowledge. Supergirl clasped her hands together. “I’m sure there’s a Kava place nearby — have you ever had boba? It matches your aesthetic so well!”

Does she end every sentence in exclamation points…?

I don't like this one. She’s too nice and bubbly. Tune her out with Grimes!

“Um, sure,” Raven nodded along. Kara’s energy (along with Trigon voice overs) were overwhelming and hard to follow in Raven’s fatigued state.

“EEEEEEEEEE! I can't wait! I'm super excited — I gotta head off though! Bye little cous!” Kara danced over to Clark’s chair. Raven and Irons watched in amazement as Superman was stuck in Kara’s loving headlock.

Clark’s face was turning red. “Kara — let go! I'm not a kid anymore — DON’T YOU DARE DO SQUISHY FACE — ” 

“Squishy face! Squishy face!” Kara chanted as she pressed Clark’s cheeks together with her palms, giggling. “That never gets old! Bye, Supey! Oh, and Raven — text me! Or I’ll text you!”

Irons was cracking up in his chair, trying to not spill his drink on himself. “Damn I love Kara — oh shit, I burned my tongue.”

Clark glared at his friend, his hair askew. “That's karma.”

Chapter Text

Raven decided to stay with Clark for the next few days. She didn't do much; her mind was otherwise occupied. Sorting memories, calculating her new distance from humanity (duplicating functioning versions of herself and stopping time were frightening concepts), and enduring many waves of guilt from her recent actions. 

Raven wandered aimlessly around the Fortress of Solitude in her free time. She wrapped herself in Clark’s crimson cloak and padded through the reflective corridors. It was like navigating a maze of mirrors. 

Her eyes narrowed as every surface echoed an image of her. Just like the interrogation room. Raven caught her own amethyst gaze nearby and frowned. 

Why do you have so many issues? Why are you this way…?

“You’re up?”

Clark stood behind her. His many duplicates scaled the walls as he closed the distance between them. Clark didn't wear his glasses around the lofty fortress, yet it still baffled her how ordinary he looked in his many plaid-patterned shirts. He smiled at the familiar red cloak draped on her shoulders and didn't move to retrieve it. 

“Night and day don't really exist here,” Raven shrugged. Outside the fortress was pure white desolation for miles. It should’ve unnerved Raven, but she was enjoying the blank abyss. There weren't any people here, besides Clark (and Irons visiting occasionally). She hadn't had this much time to herself in a while. 

“Nightmares?” Clark asked.

Raven’s face fell. “Nightmares” was such a common term. It didn't seem to apply to the little horror movies that played in her head the past few nights. In most of them, she did nothing. She simply stood there, watching as another clone of herself did something awful enough to make her wake up screaming. To Raven’s surprise, Clark didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

“If it makes you feel any better, you had worse ones. During the Flashpoint,” said Clark, his face darkening.

They had spent two years together after Darkseid invaded earth. Most of it had been spent here, hiding in the Fortress of Solitude. Raven started expecting Lois to walk out with new battle plans to take back the planet. But, of course, that never happened. 

“Can we go over the timeline some more?” said Raven. 

Clark nodded. She followed him back to the main console and he tapped a few keys. Holographic images filled the room.

Raven studied the cerulean scenes that glitched before her. She had been trying to sort the Flashpoint memories and put them in order. Clark had mapped out the chronological order of the events. She treaded along, studying each one. 

“Can you explain Doomsday again…? I know it bothers you,” Raven’s expression softened as she glanced at Clark. 

They stood together in front of one image. The scarlet garment wrapped around her shoulders was torn there and flapping above a pile of rubble. 

“In the Flashpoint timeline, I faced him alone — and died. Most of the Justice League was placed in critical condition. In our timeline, Kara fought him and won — but she was bedridden for weeks.” Clark glared at his logo rippling on the screen. “Darkseid sent him both times.” 

Raven shuddered. The more she remembered, the more her concern for Darkseid rose. Did he remember the Flashpoint…? If so, how would that influence his plans?

“Have you contacted Constantine about the Flashpoint?” Clark replied.

Raven looked away from the screen, meeting Clark’s curious gaze. “No. I haven't spoken to anyone since I came here.”

“He’s probably worried about you.”

“I told you, I’m nothing to John Constantine.” She said quietly. 

Clark studied her with an unflinching gaze. “You say that a lot. Almost like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

Raven scowled. “There’s nothing to convince myself of...it’s more of a reminder, actually.” 

The events of another reality shimmered away, fading into white slivers of light. The air burned bright around them for a minute, blazing with an alabaster mist before it disintegrated. 

“A reminder? Why have one?” said Clark. 

Raven didn't answer. She took a seat in the now-empty room and tucked Clark’s cloak tighter around her figure. It was always frigid, despite the alien technology that emitted heat throughout the chamber.

Clark leaned back on the counter nearby, facing her. “I told you about the other timeline...maybe you could tell me about this one. How did you even cross paths with John Constantine?”

Raven smirked and grimaced at the same time. “It was...an accident. Right after I had left Themyscira. I was supposed to return to San Francisco. They dropped me off in London instead. Never knew why...I almost wondered if they planned it, but the beginning...that was too cruel to plan.”

Clark’s head tipped to the side. “What happened? If you feel comfortable talking about it…”

Raven shifted so she was sitting criss-crossed on her chair, “I didn’t know London. The Amazons gave me some cash, but it didn't last long. I was alone and...homeless, and about to attempt teleporting to San Francisco...then I ran into them.”

Clark leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed. “Who?”

“Promise you won't laugh?”

“Um, okay, sure.”

“...Nuns.”

Clark’s face nearly contorted into a smile, but shock was more prominent. Raven continued, “I don't actually know why they abducted me — or for what specific reason, I should say. I wasn't with them for long until it came.” 

“What came?”

Raven flashed a painful smile. “The day I met John Constantine.”

Chapter Text

— T W O   Y E A R S   E A R L I E R —

Raven screamed when she awoke in the unfamiliar car — but no sound came out. The duct tape over her mouth sealed all syllables. Gray bindings burned against her wrists and ankles.

“Bollocks… ”

Raven’s head slowly turned to the side, glaring at her captor behind the wheel. He reminded her of an Egyptian relic, once gold, now faded, with his sandy blond hair and a tanned trench coat. A cigarette perched between his lips. 

The middle-aged man glanced her way. His gray eyes widened. “Oi, you’re up —”

“Mmm-mm-mmph! ” Raven raised her bound hands. The muffled sound she made was barely audible above the murmur of ABBA on the radio. 

Her captor’s gaze darted between her and the black abyss that surrounded the car, “Sorry, love. Didn't have time to untie you—”

Wisps of shadows materialized at Raven’s command. A thick tar-like mist lingered over her mouth. The duct tape vanished. 

“Who the hell are you —? You know what? Forget it. I don't care! Let me out! Right now!” Raven demanded. 

“Will you just —OI! Quit moving around —!” Raven turned her back toward her passenger door, thrusting her joined feet at her abductor. Shadows ate at the duct tape caging her legs.

The car jolted from their movements as Raven aimed kicks and shouts at the stranger. He kept one hand still on the wheel. The other mercilessly swatted back at Raven.

“Let me go — get off of me!” The pair struggled across the front seat; Raven had somehow ended up upside-down beside the blond as he awkwardly held her knees together. His hair was now lopsided from one of her kicks (although it wasn’t that well-kept to begin with) and his cigarette had fallen to the floor of the car. 

“You kick me one more time, love —”

“Get away from me — ugh! You smell bad!” Raven’s nose wrinkled at the combined smell (it was its own entity, really, far too powerful to simply be an aroma) of liquor, brimstone, and vomit. 

“I will turn this car around! Bollocks, those wankers are gaining on us.” Her captor’s eyes drifted to the rearview mirror. Headlights flashed in the reflection. “I need to focus — here.” 

The middle-aged man gestured at the radio. Her eyes widened as the dials moved without the slightest touch. He has magic too. But he’s old. And I’m pretty sure he’s drunk. I can take him.

Music suddenly blared from the dashboard above Raven’s head. She winced as ABBA filled the car, and her abductor sang along. 

“Don't go wasting your emotion,” Raven expected a hoarse, croaky singalong — instead, her captor had a pleasant baritone. And that only made her hate him more, “lay all your love on me!”

Raven finally unfastened her fists and aimed two fingers at the man. “Azarath metrion zinthos!”

The man cursed allowed as a shadow bolt flew past him. The window shattered where his head had been.

He glared at Raven, “Hey! This is a rental! If you’re going to do target practice in the car, you could at least aim right and save me from misery!” 

“You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met!” She yelled at him. 

“Some grateful lot you are! Right after I rescued you from those nuns,” He said, gripping the wheel with white knuckles. 

Raven stopped thrashing against him, shocked he would stoop so low. “Rescued me? Seriously? You think I buy that?”

“What, you think I would’ve taken you by choice? The only reason why I dragged you out of there is ‘cause I don't need another name on my ledger! You mean absolutely nothing to me, love — and believe me, it’s better that way.”

“Good! And just for the record, I didn't need anyone to save me. I had everything completely under control.”

“Yeah. Waking up in an unknown car covered in duct tape screams ‘control,’ love.” He retorted with a sarcastic eye roll. 

Both of them jumped as gunshots thundered outside the car. Sparks mingled with the stars and lit up the night, just missing the blur of outstretched branches. Raven peeked over the front seat to stare at the origin of blazing light invading the vehicle. 

Her eyes widened. The blond stranger scoffed at them in the mirror, “Nuns with guns. Bloody wonderful night this is...oi! Get back in the car!”

“Do you ever shut up?” said Raven. She rolled down the window and leaned out. The wind tugged at her hair, gently twirling the dark strands. She tucked them away from her face as she assessed their pursuers. 

There were three cars following them. Cloaked women hung out the windows holding rifles. Black and white fabric shuddered in the night as they aimed their firearms. 

Raven raised her hands, fingers curling like a spider’s limbs. Ebony tendrils wrapped around the tires. 

The car swerved. Raven’s torso scraped against the window’s frame. Her magic dissipated into the night. Flashes of gold cascaded down like little metal meteors across a dead sky. 

Raven hissed, tentatively pressing a hand to her sore abdomen. She glared at the stranger clenching the wheel, “Drive much?”

Bloody Blondie didn't look away from the windshield. “Want to switch?”

Raven barely had any driving experience, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. “I would love to.” 

“And let you drive us into a ditch? Hell no.”

“I would say ‘your funeral,’ but I wouldn't be using it as a metaphor.”  

“When this is over, your mouth is getting a bloody exorcism!” Bloody Blondie hissed. 

Raven popped her head out the window once more. She focused on the tires of the approaching car. Weaving her fingers, the hairs on her arms stood upright. The breeze shushed the nearby shrubs and whispered in Raven’s ear. 

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name —

— Nameless here for evermore. 

One car veered off, smashing itself into a massive pine tree. Another lurched onto its side. The tires of the last vehicle exploded, sparks erupting across the dirt road.

When Raven slipped back into the car, the blond man stared at her slack-jawed. “How the hell does someone like you have control over demonic energies?” 

“None of your business.” She said. 

They drove in silence for a minute, putting distance between them and the defeated nuns. Raven was relieved that they were finally taken care of, but one issue remained. What now?

Was she really returning to San Francisco? Raven thought over the six months she had been away. She had gotten her ass kicked more times than she could count during her stay at Themyscira. Donna Troy had saved herself. And now this. Abducted by nuns (supposedly the purest form of humanity). Who knew where it would’ve gone from there.

Raven bit her lip as she stared out the window, which was pitch-black, so the only thing visible was her murky reflection. Maybe I did learn something from Themyscira. Their strong hatred of the “Race of men”...they’re right. People suck. I hardly get along with anyone, as proven with every single day of my life. And this. Humanity is the worst — wouldn’t it just be easier to be alone, on an island of my own somewhere? Away from everyone…?

Finally the car slowed. When it came to a stop, Raven’s hand was already gripping the door handle. She slammed the car door shut without looking back.

“Hey,” the stranger called out to her. 

She kept walking. 

Raven froze when a line of flames erupted before her eyes. She staggered back from the wall of fire, illuminating the woods that surrounded them. Raven casted a glare over her shoulder.

The old man would not let up. He stood a short distance away, hands on his hips like a tired, fed-up parent. 

“What do you want?” She demanded. 

“You used magic back there. That was some pretty powerful stuff for a sixteen year-old,” He said, slowly approaching her like one would an apprehensive rabbit. 

“Seventeen. Not that it matters to you,” She corrected him.

The stranger stood before her now. “I’m something of a dark arts master myself — more of dabbler, really —”

“I don’t care.” She turned away from him. 

The stranger made the mistake of catching her arm. “You should.” 

Raven laid another kick to his abdomen — a move she’d practiced many times with the Amazons.

Bloody Blondie cursed as he crippled to the ground. Raven walked away from him for the second time...until dark plums of fog blossomed around her feet. Something churned inside the mist.

She tripped — crimson tendrils wrapped around her ankles. The dirt was cool and damp beneath her. Raven sat up and made a sawing motion with her hand. Her power slithered forth. Ebony cut crimson. 

When she righted herself, the stranger placed himself right in front of her. “Look. I’m a specialist in keeping your...stuff...in check. If you can't control this, you're my problem.”

“I thought I was nothing to you.” She said flatly. 

“Believe me, love. I wish you were. That would be safest.” As he stood before her, basking in the golden glow of the flames nearby, his form shined like an Egyptian relic kept in perfect condition. 

“I'm not a problem…” Raven inhaled sharply, “because I'm done. I'm done with people. I want to be alone. And I plan to stay that way, for the rest of my miserable existence.” 

The man stared at her intensely. Flames crackled in the silence that followed. Then he burst into laughter. 

“Your solution is to be a hermit! I love teenage logic — yes, that will work long-term, love,” His broad shoulders shook. 

“It will. Being alone is better than being with you,” She snapped, truly believing it. 

The man raised his hands. “Alright. Be by yourself. I suppose I can't judge, I'm the same way…”

He grumbled to himself as he retrieved a cigarette from his pocket. Raven studied him as he pursed his lips around the cancer stick. 

He did — technically — help me escape the nuns. In his own weird way…as far as people go, I guess there’s worse than him. But I won’t tell him that. 

“Thank you.” 

His eyebrow rose accusingly. Raven met his gaze, trying to convey her sincerity. “For getting me out of there…you did help me — in your own way.”

“Sarcasm?”

Raven’s head tilted to the side. “Hasn't anyone thanked you before?”

“No. Never. Usually, the pleasantries exchanged after my work are along the lines of ‘fuck you.’ No one’s ever thanked me before, really. You’re the first.” The man’s voice went soft at the end and he shrugged. “ ‘Suppose you’re right. Humanity’s pretty shitty. Maybe you’re better off alone, love.” 

Raven nodded. He pulled out a lighter. 

“Ah, there she is. Home sweet magical mansion.” The man blew out a plume of smoke as something materialized in the clearing ahead. Lanterns flickered on a front porch. A sloping roof towered over treetops. Windows peered out at the woods from the extended walls, promising a maze of rooms inside.

“The House of Mystery,” Her companion mused, his cigarette moving up and down in his mouth. “My nine to five shift is over. Time for home —”

The man paused midstep. He glanced back at Raven. “I suppose you’ll be heading off somewhere.” 

Raven pressed her lips together and glanced at the ground. She said she wanted to be alone. She didn't know exactly where she could go for that solitude. “Yeah. Somewhere.” 

The man looked at the massive house. Then at her. Back to the house. “Welp, good luck with that —”

The double doors opened. A red carpet tumbled down the steps and landed right before Raven’s feet.

“Um…”

Both of them stared in wonder at the lavish carpet spread across the dirt. The man cleared his throat, “I suppose you’ll be heading off —”

A gift basket suddenly popped into existence before Raven’s feet. It was overflowing with complementary lotions, bath bombs, and a fluffy hotel bathrobe. 

She bent down and plucked out a greetings card sticking out. Beautiful cursive was scrawled across the parchment, Welcome to the House of Mystery, Raven.

“What's it say?”

“It says ‘welcome.’ ”

Her companion leaned over her shoulder and groaned. “Fine. You can come in, because the house likes you. I suppose we’ll live in solitude together — a miserable coexistence…”

His voice trailed off. When Raven glanced back at him, his eyes were glued to the welcome card. “What?”

“Your name…”

“Yes? It's Raven.”

The man shot her an incredulous look. Raven sighed, “Is there a problem with my name?”

“...Nothing. Bad omens all around,” He sucked in a breath as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. He continued grumbling as he climbed the steps to the manor.

“And who are you again?” She asked, still unsure whether to follow him. 

The man paused. He turned back, and as he did so, the golden luminescence from the beckoning double doors cascaded down upon him, draping him in ethereal light. Cloaked in an angel’s caress — as all demons were. 

“Constantine. John Constantine.”

Chapter Text

Clark stared at her in silence for a few minutes. They were sitting in a makeshift blanket fort with flashlights. He contemplated his words carefully before he spoke, “I don't know what I was expecting, but...that seems right.” 

Raven shrugged. She had stayed with John longer than she’d planned. How would things have turned out differently if she hadn't stayed with John Constantine? Would Raven have given up on solitude eventually — or embraced it, abandoning everything?

I don't know. But I wouldn't be here now if it weren’t for John Constantine. 

“I'm still confused about something,” Clark admitted. His shoulders brushed against the low-hanging tarps of the fort when he spoke. “How could you be nothing to him? You stayed with John for over a year...why not become his apprentice? He always has some comment about how no one would follow him — you could do it.”

Raven knit her fingers together. “No. I couldn't. I mean, I could, physically...but the emotional suffering that accompanies John’s job...”

I can't. She couldn’t even comprehend how John woke up most mornings. The disasters he faced...most of their solutions required a sacrifice. John had sacrificed so much...she could never forget what happened to his best friend, Chaz. Even if their relationship had begun to mend, it was still scarred by what John had done to save his daughter. Everyone John Constantine loved died — or was tortured beyond measure.

So yes. I'm nothing to John Constantine. Because that’s the only way I can live and breathe by his side without being another sacrifice. 

Raven didn't disclose the full parameters of her relationship with Constantine. They lurked beneath locks and thorns, repelling prying eyes. 

Clark rambled on, “Still, I think you mean a lot to him. Look at him now compared to the Flashpoint: you changed him, Ray, and he changed you — okay, you’re giving me the death look. I’ll shut up now.”

“Thanks.” Raven glanced around their tent, lit up by fairy lights. Clark’s hideout had the same lure as a rainy day spent indoors or a mother’s embrace...but she’d stayed long enough. Constantine had stopped her from turning her back on humanity before. The thought of him had a similar effect on her now. She couldn’t cower here forever. 

She sighed. “I should probably head back. Find out what happened after Cadmus...and John…”

And Damian. She still didn't know what to say to him. Memories of him from the Flashpoint only puzzled her more. When she remembered their interactions, her bones went soft. They took place during the literal end of the world, but they weren't bad memories. They were actually kind of nice, which mystified her. Was she insane for treasuring apocalyptic memories?

Raven was tired of mulling over inquiries. She had to return. Face people. Endure lingering glances. And — perhaps the worst torment — talking to them.

An introvert’s worst nightmare. 

— W A Y N E   M A N O R —

Raven knocked twice on the grand oak doors. The home of Bruce Wayne loomed over her. Ivy climbed aged cobblestone. A marble fountain sighed softly in the center of the driveway. Everything reminded Raven of all the old European ruins that she visited with John, but instead of fascination, a ball of dread expanded in her stomach.

As Raven waited before the elegantly elaborated entrance, she checked her phone. When she’d lived with John, they came to an agreement with one another: if one of them was away for a certain amount of time, they’d text the other BTWNDID (By The Way, Not Dead In Ditch) to confirm their vitality. 

Raven sent the quick, concise message to him as she stood awkwardly between the thick pillars of smooth stone. She thought texting him would distract her trembling fingers and tapping foot. Even when her gaze peered a hole into the screen, she couldn't forget where she was. 

I still don't know what I want to say to Damian. He deserves an explanation — a real one. Of why I kissed him. And why I keep thinking about it. Every single night. And random times of the day — focus! I need to come up with something —

Raven stiffened when the double doors groaned open.

“Hello, Ms. Roth,” Alfred the Butler gently bowed. When he stood upright, his bowtie ironed and gray hair swept back, he folded his arms in a poised manner.

Raven couldn't help but feel a wave of disappointment when she saw him. He wasn't the resident she was here to visit. 

Raven’s hands knit together behind her back, “Hi, Alfred. Is...Damian home?”

She clasped her fingers tighter behind her back when she said his name. Part of her was baffled at how something as simple as a name could have such a profound effect on her body; the leg-twitching eagerness, a heart-aching melancholy. 

Alfred remained rigidly upright and composed as he replied, “I’m afraid not. Both Master Waynes will be away for the short foreseeable future.”

Raven blinked. She waited, hoping Alfred would burst into laughter at a poor joke. He remained still and silent. Had she heard him right?

“Pardon?”

“Master Bruce is investigating a threat in the mountains, and implored Master Damian to join him. No one is able to contact them at this time. My deepest apologies on their behalf, Ms. Roth,” Alfred performed another courtly bow.

Raven recalled Bruce’s phone call with Damian the last night she had seen him. Bruce had mentioned something about his skillset. Damian had told him to ask someone else — unless Damian had a sudden urge to leave…

A wave of despair rolled over her from the realization. Her fingers ached from her firm grip. “I understand. Thank you, Alfred —”

She was about to take a step back when something rubbed against her calf. Raven’s gaze trailed down.

Damian’s cat, named after the butler himself, greeted her with a soft mew and placed his paw on her leg. 

“It seems you have a profound effect on our residents, Ms. Roth,” said Alfred.

Raven didn't know what to say to that. It was too vague a comment to understand whether it was a compliment or a criticism. 

“Do you mind if I stop by again? To see if...he’s home?” Raven asked, sparing another glance down at Alfred the Cat. He was rubbing his face against her boots, his hair forming a fur trim on the leather. 

“Of course, Ms. Roth —”

“Raven?” A reply from inside increased Raven’s shyness on the doorstep. Footsteps carried from the tile floors within, and suddenly Dick appeared next to Alfred. The deep, violet sacs beneath his eyes alarmed Raven. 

“Oh, thank God! The Titans were freaking out when you didn't come back — we thought you’d taken off, too.” Dick sighed with relief as he leaned on the doorframe.

Raven cringed. She didn't expect the Titans to be inflicted by her short absence. “Sorry, a lot of things happened that night.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Bruce steals Damian, Conner leaves us — Ivy’s pretty pissed at you for ghosting us, by the way —”

“Conner left?” Raven felt her expression stiffen at the news. She hadn’t missed Dick’s comment on Poison Ivy, either. 

He must’ve found out about his true identity. And now he’s isolating himself. He shouldn’t be alone through this. 

“Yeah. We found out who was behind Project Cadmus: Lex Luthor was bankrolling it. When Conner heard, he ducked out pretty quick.” Dick was pulling at tufts of his hair. “I don't know how Kory does this. Everyone coming and going from this team...and none of you use the group chat anymore! How are we supposed to communicate? The Titans are more dysfunctional than these people —” Dick gestured over his shoulder at Wayne Manor. Inside, behind Dick’s back, Duke Thomas and Cassandra Cain rolled by on office chairs with water squirters, “— and that’s saying something!”

Raven finally untangled her hands from behind her back and crossed her arms. Dick’s stress was wearing off on her. She planned to have conversations with both Damian and Conner — but Ivy was closest. “If Ivy’s upset with me, she can take it out on you. I don't want that. Do you have any idea where she is or how I can fix this?”

Alfred piped up. “Ms. Isley’s have currently been occupied in thwarting Lex Luthor’s schemes. She has eliminated every ACE Chemicals location in Gotham, and has been harassing Mr. Luthor at his workplace in the city.”

“His workplace?” Raven raised an eyebrow.

“It's not worth it, Raven. We can't go near him,” Dick mumbled.

“And why not?”

“Luthor’s the leader of the Legion of Doom. And their new office has relocated to Gotham.”

Chapter Text

— H A L L   O F   D O O M —

“Welcome to the Legion of Doom, where evil comes to life! How may I help you?”

The receptionist behind the desk towered over Raven even from his chair. Translucent cords with scarlet liquid curled around his massive form.

Raven glanced around the lobby. It was ordinary enough; velvet, scarlet-tinted furniture. Glass walls exposed a drooping marsh — and massive golden statues of criminals, of course. The ceiling towered as high as the Hall of Justice, every surface bathed in warmth from the glimmering sculptures. There were also portraits. Bombs were mounted on the wall, and Raven wasn't sure if they were displays or tools in use. 

Raven controlled the urge to shudder as she faced Bane behind the receptionist’s desk. “I’m a visitor.” 

“Is this your first time?” Bane asked in his deep, unsettling voice.

Raven nodded mutely. Bane grinned beneath the mask. “This is exciting. May I ask which evildoer recommended us?” Bane’s thick, gloved fingers stabbed the keyboard incessantly as he typed.

Raven had no idea how Bane of all people was put on receptionist duty — however, his personality wasn't nearly as intimidating as his stature. 

Raven said the name of the first evil entity that came to mind. “Um...Trigon?” 

You do think of me, daughter! You admit it!

I don't see how thrilling it is to be the first menace that comes to my mind, but...sure. Props to you. 

“You have connections! Good for you,” said Bane.

Raven’s eyes widened. She didn't expect her father’s name to open doors.

“You are checked in," said Bane. "We hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

Raven forced herself to nod and drifted away from the welcome desk. She wandered past the line of statues whose lifeless eyes followed her. All of the statues were of men. Her jaw clenched — it was one thing to pursue villainy in order to fulfill one’s objectives, but she didn't expect the extensive masochism. 

Holding a map in front of her face (Bane was surprisingly helpful), she set out for Lex Luthor’s office. 

Hallways swarmed with people who wanted her friends dead. The elevator ride was the most unsettling. Two-Face had boarded at the last minute. She was trapped with him in a metal box propelled upwards. Every now and then, her gaze lingered to the sickly burned half of his skin that faced her — until his lidless eye caught her, and she held the map higher, shielding her face. His gaze remained transfixed on her the entire time.

Raven’s skin was riddled with goosebumps by the time the double doors groaned open. She plunged forward. Her hopes dwindled as she faced another corridor full of numerous doors, criminals walking back and forth. 

“You misogynistic assholes built this place on a swamp? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how much plant life you’re screwing over by endangering the species in this ecosystem?”

Raven stilled when she heard the environmental-based rant. Only one person would care so deeply about plant life.

“Miss Isley —” someone interrupted.

“Doctor.” 

“I’m a doctor, too!” someone else piped in. Raven recognized the high-soprano. Harley was here, too.

“I went to Wharton.” 

“I went to Harvard.”

“I went to MIT. And yet we’re all here, full of bloodlust and mental health issues.” Nanaue was there, too.

Raven’s steps quickened. Normally, she would’ve been comforted by Nanaue’s presence — but after the other night, the thought of him, with his teeth glinting inches away from Damian’s face —

Moment freezing. My reflection. A kiss in the rain. Feeling his pain. I’ll never forget that night, will I?

Raven burst into the office. It was spacious, with another long wall of glass looking out at the swamp. Ivy stood with Harley Quinn and Nanaue, holding various pieces of propaganda, WE ARE ANGRY! HENCHMEN DESERVE A UNION! HUMANS MAKE GREAT FERTILIZER!

What shocked her the most was —

“Rachel?” Her jaw dropped as her eyes landed on Conner, standing by Lex Luthor’s side. 

—>*<—

The room fell silent when Raven arrived. There were so many faces to take in. Poison Ivy’s glare. Harley’s off-putting, slightly-glazed orbs that widened with surprise. Nanaue simply waved.

When her eyes landed on Conner, her breath caught in her throat. It had only been a few days since they’d seen each other, hadn’t it? How could he look so different? His hair had changed; his bangs now dipped down across his eyes— just like Frank Whaley from Career Opportunities. Raven’s gaze fell to his leather jacket, where Lex Luthor’s insignia was stitched upon the sleeve. What bothered her most was his expression. Something was...off. She couldn't explain the difference, but she couldn't stop staring, trying to find what was missing —

“And who the hell are you?” said Lex Luthor from his leather armchair.

Raven blinked. She had never been in the same room with Lex Luthor. Except for the Flashpoint—

What if he remembers? No...he would’ve kicked me out. Raven snapped out of her daze. 

“I —”

“This is your new assistant. Duh,” Conner stepped around the desk, over to her side. He placed his hands on her shoulders from behind and whispered in her ear, “Just go along with it, ‘kay?”

Lex Luthor leaned forward, hands knit together. Raven was close enough to sense his emotions. She was shocked to find how similar his emotional state was to Batman: apathy reeked from his form. There were darker things lurking beneath the surface, but they were caged. It didn't make them harder for her to feel — but they were more difficult to dissect. Lex Luthor had undergone some kind of trauma, and whatever it was seemed...familiar. 

“Uh, where did your diamond-thingy —?” Harley tapped her forehead, noting the absence of Raven’s gem. It was still there; a simple cloaking spell kept it hidden. She didn't expect anyone else here to recognize her face. She wore her hood too much when interacting with others. 

“She’s super cute,” Conner cut her off. He leaned in close to Raven, “Are you seeing anyone?”

Raven’s eyebrow rose at him. He was flirting...with her? That was new. And quite elaborate, even for a distraction. 

“I’ll warn you again: don’t flirt with the help.” Lex Luthor shook his head disapprovingly at Conner. Then he turned to Raven, “Surname?” 

Raven glanced over at Conner. Their eyes met. “Grey.” 

“Rachel Grey…” Lex Luthor tapped his desk. Blue screens hovered in midair, but they didn't display a thing. “How come you’re not in my database?” 

“Because of me.”

Raven stiffened when Ivy answered. Had Ivy caught on? Raven hadn’t expected Ivy to play along; Dick made it sound as if she wanted Raven dead for abandoning them that night. The glare she sent Raven’s way when she walked in was evidence enough. So why…?

“She’s a close friend of mine, and she deserves better than working with you estrogen-hating assholes,” said Ivy. 

“You have friends?” Luthor blinked with surprise. 

Everyone else in the room watched in shock as Ivy crossed the room and yanked Raven out of Conner’s grip. Her jaded fingertips curled right above her elbows; her nails carved crescent moons into Raven’s skin. 

“Ray, they’re not worth it. Listen to what I’m telling you: Luthor’s a monster.” Ivy spat his name through gritted teeth. “Get the hell out of here!”

“You’re hired.”

Raven peeked over Ivy’s shoulder at Luthor. He had settled back into his chair, dissecting the pair. “You disregard human life so consistently, Ivy. I wonder why this one supersedes that rule. Don’t tell me: I’ll enjoy finding out on my own.”

Luthor stood. When he approached the two, Ivy stood in front of Raven. “Lex, I swear —”

“I know, I know. One little hair on her head, and you’ll turn my workplace into Little Shop of Horrors. Step aside.” 

Ivy didn't move. Harley had to drag her away, pulling on her arm to do so. Lex Luthor stood before Raven now.

He offered out a hand. “Welcome to the team, Miss Grey. I don't usually say this, but I have a good feeling about you.” 

Raven hesitantly took his outstretched hand. One phrase repeated itself over and over in her head, screaming, burning her ears. 

NO ONE WILL MOURN YOU.

Chapter Text

“What the hell was that?” Raven jabbed a finger at Conner in the small space between them. As soon as the meeting was over and the others were asked to leave, Raven had dragged Conner to the nearest supply closet. 

“I work for him now? Seriously, Conner —” Raven’s rant was cut off when Conner pulled her into a tight embrace. He clutched her tight to his chest. 

“Conner —”

“I didn't think I’d see you again.” The words were murmured into her hair. The heat of his breath flashed against her neck. “I didn't think I’d see any of you...I knew the Titans were gonna hate me for doing this…”

Conner’s form suddenly froze against her. He pulled back, and in the dim light, Raven could make out his horrified expression, “You don't hate me, do you?” 

Conner seemed to flit from one emotion to the next. Even for an empath, Raven struggled to follow him. But the look of terror on his face...like someone begging for something precious that they’d lost…

“No, I don't hate you. I’m so lost, what is going on? Why did you go to Lex — are you even safe here? I’m pretty sure the criminals outside aren't thrilled that Superboy is in the building.” 

“Superman,” He corrected her. 

“Of all the Titans to correct on grammar, I’m not one of them, Con.” 

“Sorry.” He let her go, scratching the back of his head as he stared down at their shoes. “We found out Lex was running Cadmus, and...I wanted answers. That’s our deal. I hang out with him so he’ll gain good press, and I can find out why...I’m here.” 

He didn't sound like he wanted to know. Raven was still trying to piece together events. She didn't doubt that her mind was altered after the Flashpoint memories; she couldn't look at anything the way she used to. She was now peering at reality through a special lens. 

“Where did you go that night, by the way?” Conner asked. “When everybody got out, you and Wayne were missing…”

It was Raven’s turn to avert her eyes. The heavy rock in her chest hammered against her ribs. “It’s a long story.”

“Hey...you okay?”

Raven sucked in a breath. When she finally returned his gaze, she hoped her mask of composure was sturdy. “Why auction me off as Luthor’s assistant?” 

“...You wanted to figure out more about Project Cadmus too. I thought, maybe, we could work together? Try to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on here? We’ll keep the Titans safe by monitoring the situation here.” 

Raven deliberated for a moment. Conner had a point — the plan was genius, actually. Keep your enemies close. If Project Cadmus planned to create any more clones, she could end it here. Without risking the lives of her family.

She finally nodded. “It’s a clever plan. But I don’t know how I’ll pass as Luthor’s assistant. I don't exactly have workplace experience.”

“You’re like the smartest person I know. If anyone could keep up with Lex, it would be you. Besides, I’ll be right beside you! We’ll be a team.” Conner grinned. 

Raven sighed. His optimism was contagious. It was hard to resist his radiance, even in a dark supply closet. “All right. We’re doing this. But first thing’s first...it’s probably going to look weird to some people that we’ve been in here for so long.”

Conner shrugged. “They could think we’re making out. Want to?”

“Conner.”

“Yeah?”

“Open the door.”

“Okay…” Raven could hear his lower lip jutting out into a pout from his tone. His fingers turned the knob and the spall space was filled with the fluorescent lighting of the corridor. 

Raven stepped out, blinking. She looked around the halls. Scarecrow was sipping a Starbucks coffee through his mask. She shuddered. There was so much to get used to. 

“I’m Lex’s assistant, so I must have an office, right?” Raven mused aloud. 

Conner nodded at her side. “I know where it is. Would you like an escort?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Conner bowed low in one fluent, majestic, motion. When he rose, he offered her his arm, “Milady.” 

Raven hesitated. Conner’s new...flirtatious manner would take some getting used to. It was meant to be smooth, and sometimes it was, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking, what a dork.  

She took his arm, muttering, “Milord.” 

Conner smiled the entire trip to her office. 

— G O T H A M   C E M E T E R Y —

They stood before a gravestone together. Neither had spoken since Raven arrived. 

“So you hate me?” Raven couldn't bear the silence any longer.

“Pretty much.” Poison Ivy looked away from the chiseled words in stone. 

“Why go along with me working for Lex, then?”

Ivy turned away from the grave. Her slender form was wrapped in an emerald trench coat. The flaps fluttered in the wind like leaves brushed by fall’s early breath. 

“Some of what I said was true. Lex is a monster. We could use someone on the inside,” said Ivy. 

Raven nodded mutely. Harley Quinn was balancing atop a gravestone a few rows over. No one else was there — above the ground, anyway. Birds chattered in the trees. Flower petals parted their lips and spoke in low tones above the mounds. Gotham’s ever-present gray sky loomed overhead like a faded spector. 

“I'm sorry —”

“Don't start.” Ivy’s toxic glare sent shocks across Raven’s skin. “It doesn't matter. We’re not friends. Definitely not colleagues. I highly doubt ‘acquaintances’ applies —”

“If it doesn't matter, then why are you staring at me like I lit a forest on fire?”

“First off: a certain amount of deforestation is actually beneficial to the environment. Second: because you left!” Ivy snapped. The weeds around them curled and drooped as if they sulked at the sound of her irritation. 

“You think I wanted to? Believe me, if I could go back in time to that night and stop myself —” When the expression flew from Raven’s lips, she clamped a hand over her mouth. It was just a saying. It was meant in the metaphorical sense. Everyone used it.

But what if I actually could…? What am I actually capable of…? 

Raven crossed her arms. She made a silent promise to herself not to raise her voice. 

“...What happened?” Ivy’s tone had lost some of it’s sharpened thorns. Raven spared her another glance. 

“You threw me into a building once.”

“Yeah…? What does that have to do with anything?”

Raven’s arms tightened around her chest. “Let’s say there was a staircase. And everyone is on it at some level.”

“Okay…?”

Raven took a deep breath. She had tried to have the same conversation with Clark, but it didn't feel right. Maybe Ivy would understand. 

“You’re one of the strongest people in Gotham.” Raven said. “You’re pretty high on this...staircase.”

Ivy thrusted her hands into the pockets of her trench coat. “What’s the point of all this, Ray?”

Raven held her gaze. “Your humanity.” 

Ivy squinted at her. An emerald brow rose sharply. “What of it?”

“How do you...still stay connected to it, when you’re so high up on the staircase?”

Harley sat up now, watching them from a distance. In the silence that lingered, Raven’s fingertips embedded half-moons in her palm. She dreaded this conversation. Having it by herself, in her thoughts, was terrifying enough. But facing someone else...their eyes boring into hers…

Ivy released a breath. “Look at me, Raven. I’m not even human...I left humanity behind a long time ago.”

Raven didn't know what response she was hoping for, but there was a block of ice consuming her ribs as she listened to Ivy. 

“I’m not the leading authority on this, okay? I don't know what you’re going through. Everyone’s got their own shit that they’re sorting out...have you talked to Robin about this?”

Raven averted her eyes. “He left.”

“Oh.” Ivy’s hands rustled in her pockets, but she didn't remove them. 

They stood in silence for a time.

“I’ll keep you updated on Luthor.” 

“...Thanks.” Ivy nodded curtly. “And Roth?”

“Yeah?”

Ivy paused as if she wanted to say something. But nothing came out.

“Keep me posted. Aside from him.”

“I will.” 

Ivy turned and walked away.

“Roth?” Harley had moved; she was now seated on the nearest tombstone by Raven.

“It’s my last name,” Raven said.

“Hmm, why does it sound familiar…?” Harley put a finger to her lips, then shrugged. “Anywho, that whole spiel about the staircase crap, that was really…”

“Creepy?”

“Fascinating!” Harley jumped up, and in doing so, clasped Raven’s hands.

“It’s been so long since I’ve contributed anything to the psychology field...my dissertation was based on the Joker, and I haven’t really worked on anything since. But everything you said sounds so wicked cool! I’d love to pick your brain if you have time!”

“You want...to study me?” Raven said carefully.

Harley squealed. “You have so many issues! You’re a psychiatrist’s dream! I’d love to peek into that noggin’…”

“Thanks. That’s the nicest compliment anyone’s ever given to my mental state.”

“You’re so welcome!” Harley beamed and squeezed her hands. “Also, don't give up on Ivy, okay? She’s not good at clicking with people, but I think you’d make a great friend for her.”

Raven glanced down at the porcelain, calloused fingers that clasped hers. Despite their delicate, icicle-thin appearance, Harley’s touch was warm. This Harley had a very different opinion of Raven compared to Flashpoint Harley. 

I don't like kids...sticky hands...

Raven frowned. She’d sorted enough of the Flashpoint memories to make a rough sketch of the forsaken timeline. It wasn't to perfection, but she couldn't deny a pattern that started to arise.

Everyone she encountered from the Flashpoint was appearing. One by one. What would happen when everyone had gathered once more…? What about those who weren't present now? Damian...Batman...Darkseid—

“Harley, come on! I ordered takeout ten minutes ago, it's going to get cold.” Ivy yelled over her shoulder. 

Harley threw her a smile, “Coming, sweetie!”

Harley released Raven’s hands. “See ya! You should join us for a girls night sometime. Selina might try to steal your gem, but it’ll be fun!”

Raven waved as they left. Soon they became small, unrecognizable figures at the edge of the field. She was alone now. Surrounded by names engraved in stone. 

Raven’s gaze shifted to the name on the headstone before her. 

“Oi, look at you. All brooding-like. You teenagers are all the same…”

Raven looked away and faced John Constantine. A cigarette teetered on his lips as he spoke. 

Her eyes shifted from his mud-coated shoes to his slightly wrinkled tie. It had only been a week, but it felt like she hadn't seen him in months. Raven rolled her eyes, “Oh, I’m brooding?”

“You are the one dating the son of the Bat —”

“That does not concern you.” The response flew from her lips. It was more hostile than she intended. 

John stood beside her, arching an eyebrow at her outburst. “So dramatic…”

“What do you want.”

“To talk. Well, I shouldn't say it's something I want,” He corrected. “But it's for the best that we discuss this.”

Raven continued to stare at the tombstone before her. “You could’ve just texted. It's more convenient.”

“That doesn't sound like me. Besides, this is about your precious Gotham. I figured it’d be better in person.”

Raven spun around. “What about Gotham?”

Chapter Text

The graveyard was eerily silent. Raven’s fingers locked together as she processed the information Constantine had shared with her. 

“You’re certain?”

“Positive.” John took a long draw of his cigarette. 

How did I not notice?

Raven waved her hand in the air, batting away John’s cancer fumes. “Why would there be demon activity in Gotham?”

“Beats me, love. Maybe it was a good thing to play business with Lexy. He might be part of this,” John shrugged.

Raven slowly walked around the grave. She needed the movement. Putting one foot before the other on the dew-soaked grass. 

“What would Luthor have to do with demons?”

“You’d be surprised. Demons like to conquer. So do businessmen. Lots of politicians and CEOs ally themselves with demons. It's a more common combination than you think.” John paused when he reached the end of his cigarette. He huffed and flicked it to the ground before stomping it out. 

“So how do we fight this?” Raven’s arms crossed as she stared at him from the opposite side of the grave. 

“We’ll have to take care of the Sins first. The ones left are pissed because someone captured two.” John shot a glare at her.

“Fine. I’ll deal with the remaining ones. Happy?”

“Delighted.”

“That puts you on Gotham duty.”

“Bollocks.” John muttered a curse. “I have a life, too. Besides, you’re already obligated to be here for Lexy —”

“Until I take out the Sins, someone has to watch Gotham.” Raven didn't like the idea of asking Constantine to watch over the city. She’d rather do it herself. But she wouldn't let Damian return to ruins. John could keep the city in one piece long enough…hopefully?

“And your plan for the Sins?” said John. 

Raven’s gaze shifted from his to the ground. She had already disposed of two. The remaining five shouldn’t be of any concern…

Unless she found another unconscious way to alter reality.

Raven shuddered at the memory of the gaping, all-consuming silence when time ceased. It would be a harder objective with the Sins…Gluttony and Sloth had profound effects upon her emotions. Who knew what the others’ presences would unlock?

I can't. I can't do that again.

She had to finish off five powerful demons without using any of her abilities. Something that required little on her part, and preferably could take them out in one fight. It wasn't how Raven usually went about her battles — it was lazy and final, just like —

A small smirk fought for placement upon her lips as she glanced over at Constantine. 

Cold, dew-drenched cement met Raven’s fingers as they softly traced the top of the tombstone. “I’ll take out all five tonight. In the meantime, watch over Gotham. Do not half-ass this.” 

“Fine, I’ll play sitter.”

“If one building collapses, I swear to Azar, John —” Raven warned.

“You’ll kill me?”

“I’ll delete your Hulu profile, removing all of your progress on your anime.” 

“...You are one cruel woman.” 

— O U T S K I R T S   O F    S A N    F R A N C I S C O —

Raven eyed the crumbling church warily. Her grip tightened on her bag. She was afraid the contents would start squirming. 

The sun had just set, wrapping the world in a dim gray glow. Dry dirt filled her nostrils. Battered planks of wood shrieked from the slightest breeze. She had barely taken in the scene before it melted into a blaring white plane. Thunder boomed. 

Billy Batson walked up to her with Cyborg in tow. “ ‘Sup.”

Raven stood before the fourteen year-old. “You called them here?”

Billy nodded. “The lightning usually gets their attention. It makes the Sins go nuts.”

The three turned as soon as they heard whistling. Raven drew a sharp breath. A familiar scarlet mask came into view. 

“Roth, this is one whacked-out cult meeting. That now has two gallons of holy water off the black market, specially delivered.” Jason Todd plopped the two dark jugs on the infertile dirt. 

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Holy water?”

“Yessiree. Surprisingly expensive.” Raven didn't have to see Todd’s face to imagine how it scrunched up at the price. “Never knew exorcisms cost this much.”

Raven side-eyed him. “How much do I owe you?”

“Forget it. I owe you, like, fifty favors.” Jason crossed his arms. Both hands fingered the gun handles poking up from his hips. 

“You owe her?” Vic’s stare flitted between them. “Never knew you guys crossed paths before.”

Raven pressed her lips together. After Jason’s emergence from the Lazarus Pit, his emotional state and mental frame of mind were…unstable (that was a mild understatement). She knew it worried Damian, so she offered her assistance. Even though it had been years since she had entered Jason Todd’s mind, he treated her the same way. 

Jason shrugged off the probing. His eyes wandered to the run-down church. He glanced between Raven and the decrepit structure. “If you go in there, will you burst into flames?”

“Not gonna lie, I was wondering the same thing.” said Billy, raising a hand.

Raven glared. “No.”

Jason held up one of the jugs. “What if I douse you in holy water?”

“Please don't. It's stingy. Thank you for everyone’s contribution,” Raven paused, waiting for them to take the hint. All three guys stood still, showing no signs of moving. 

“Figured you’d want us to hang around, maybe for backup,” Victor offered politely.

“Dude, I hitched a ride all the way to the west coast. Coachella hasn't even started yet. There is no way I’m missing this cult meeting,” said Jason.

Raven squeezed the bridge of her nose, biting back a remark. “Fine. If you’re going to stay, spread the holy water around the church. Please.”

Jason pumped up his fist and thrusted one of the jugs at Billy. “I am an active cult member — here, go do what she said.”

Billy scoffed. “You think you’re so cool? You’re like the Kardashian of superheroes. Famous for being a total douchebag.”

“What can I say? Grayson’s ass makes the cash,” said Jason.

Billy’s head hung low as he circled the church, holy water trickling out and forming a damp line in the dirt. Raven’s nostrils burned when the liquid met open air. To her, the substance was similar to rubbing alcohol. Endurable, but unpleasant. The Sins would encounter a more searing struggle. 

Raven dug into her bag for the next part of her plan. Jason’s head tilted at Victor. “Your last name is Stone, right?”

When Victor nodded, Jason cackled. “Yeah, I’m so calling you Stoner.”

“Dude, that’s so inaccurate. The closest I’ve ever come to drugs, including steroids, are mechanical enhancements. I used to play football! I’m clean!” 

“You were an ex-football player? Oh, then you were DEFINITELY a stoner!” 

Vic bit down on his lip, then mumbled something about how the Kardashians were rude.

Raven gave her bag one final tug and retrieved the item she needed. Jason was so taken aback from it that he pushed up his mask, revealing his sharp bone structure marred by shock.

“What in the Five Nights at fucking Freddy’s is THAT?” He jammed his finger at the Totoro plushie.

“I knew she was the Creepypasta fandom in human form!” Billy called out. He was on the other side of the church now, nearly finished surrounding the fortress with holy water. 

Vic tossed a weird look over at the kid. “What side of the internet do you people go on?”

“The cool side.” 

Still clutching the Totoro plushie, Raven shook her head. “I should’ve done this by myself.”

Her gaze met Victor’s. “The Sins should be here soon. As the only other adult here, I humbly ask you to watch the children outside.”

Raven clenched her fists into the soft gray plush of the stuffed animal as she approached the church. Billy finished his rounds with the holy water, connecting the long strip behind her. Cerulean flames curled up from the dirt and lapped at the air. 

Raven hesitated at the door and looked back at them. “No matter what you hear, do not go over that line and enter this building. Understand?”

Vic’s eyebrows furrowed. “You want us to do nothing?”

“Yes.” She knew that was the most difficult request to make of anyone. “If things go wrong, wait for the holy water to wear off and light the church on fire.”

“With you inside? Are you insane?” Jason’s hands were on his hips, resting atop his pistols.

“No.” Raven scoffed.

Jason’s eyes widened. It was only then that Raven realized his question was rhetorical.

Raven turned her back on the three and entered the church by the eerie glow of holy flames.

Chapter Text

Raven slumped against the musty double doors. She set the plush Totoro figure down and murmured a power word. 

The ball of gray fuzz jerked like electricity emerging from wire restraints. Ears flapped. Whiskers twitched.

The animated plush angled it's head up towards her, it’s permanently stitched smile seeming to grow ever wider. 

Raven crouched down and patted the plushie between the ears. “Hi. Do you remember the plan?”

The doll nodded. Raven was stealing directly from Constantine; he had taken down five demons in one go before and barely did a thing. Raven could never let him know she used his plan. But she didn't predict anything wrong in applying it to the Sins. 

Raven straightened and delved further inside. She passed lines of corroded, desecrated pews. Something squeaked and skittered in the darkness. Moonlight peeked through the colored glass, bathing the church in dull crimson. 

They’re here.

Raven looked to the row next to her as the smoke dissipated. Feathery black wings stretched the entire length of the pew before folding behind the demon’s back. From the intense power radiating from the entity, Raven guessed it was Pride. 

“Where are my brothers?” They asked, looking up from long, obsidian talons. The gems embroidered along their limbs were seared scarlet by the stained glass. 

Raven didn't answer. A creature dropped down from the ceiling, hanging by its tail as it hovered in front of her face. 

“Knew it was wrong to take Trigon’s offer. The stock market is more reliable than him!” Greed snarled and barred their fangs. 

Raven’s mouth dropped open. “What offer —?”

The Totoro plushie leapt from the shadows and onto Greed’s face. 

Raven ducked as the demon wailed in agony, hearing blood splatter across the floor. Diving into the nearest pew, she kept low to the ground as the fighting started.

Growls and ripping flesh filled the air as Raven took cover behind a pillar. She spared a look over at the enchanted stuffed animal. Perhaps John had a point; it really was the stuff of nightmares. It’s stitched smile was unwavering as it ripped out tendons and bone marrow alike. Sacs spurted, arteries gushed. A scarlet waterfall cascaded from clawed wounds, gaping open like mouths screaming in terror. 

Raven looked away just as intestines slithered out of Wrath like worms gnawing on corpses.

“Raven…”

Her entire body melted at the voice. A whisper escaped her lips, “Damian…?”

A hand reached out from around the pillar she stood behind. Familiar fingers traced her collarbone. Her gaze trailed along the veins that twirled around the calloused hand, curving just below the inside of the wrist.

Raven’s eyes lifted as his shadow fell over her. Her face ignited into flames.

Damian stood before her. Wearing absolutely nothing. 

Raven leaned back into the pillar, the long wooden slab creaking from her weight. Damian pressed closer, caging her in. Moonlight bathed them in crimson. 

“You’ve thought about us like this,” The hoarseness of his voice vibrated against her skin. Damian’s lips feathered her jawline.

Raven pressed her hands against his chest, intending to push him off, yet she was caught off guard from how real he felt. Flickers of when they were cooking sparked across her mind, his warmth pressed firmly against her. The same heat burned beneath her fingertips, tracing the prominent muscle.

Damian’s knee parted her legs. “I know you want me.”

Raven’s eyes snapped open. “But do you still want me?” After what I said?

He had kissed her back that night. The way he groaned into her mouth was permanently etched into her memory. The sheer amount of pain that her words had inflicted. Was it truly safe to assume that he thought of her in that way? What about her feelings? Was it truly —?

A sharp pain pierced her neck, followed by a slick tongue and a flurry of kisses. Raven’s heartbeat throbbed beneath her skin, echoing throughout her body. 

Just before she melted into his arms, the rational part of her regained consciousness. He’s not here! It’s not real!

Raven finally pushed him off. She made the mistake of her gaze trailing down, cheeks dyed red permanently. Huh. Bigger than I thought. Is that really to scale —? Now’s probably not the best time for this.

“Does this form not please you?” Damian’s nude form erupted in smoke. Conner’s form took his place. “This one seems to entertain you —”

“Oh, my — just shut up, you perv!” Abandoning all logic and succumbing to rage, Raven punched a demon in the face. 

Lust stumbled backwards, reverting back to their true form. Totoro dove onto them. Blood spewed across the walls as the demon shrieked in agony.

Raven shook her head and turned her back on the carnage. She continued at a brisk pace along the pews, searching for Totoro’s downed victims. 

The tarnished remains of Wrath and Pride lay in their own respected puddles of crimson. Raven recovered a pouch of crystals from her bag. She took her time with each one, hovering over the wounded demons as a crystal levitated gently in her upheld palms. She murmured an incantation. The remains liquified before droplets rose and embedded themselves in crystal. 

“Tell your padre I want a raise.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed across the room. Greed stood at the altar, red stained glass shimmering above their head. 

She took a soft yet meaningful step towards them. “What orders did Trigon give you?”

It baffled Raven that Trigon would ally with someone else. He was independent when it came to his work — similar to how he treated family matters. 

“You think I listen to the crap that old man says? I only heard the price, that’s all I’m in for,” Greed licked their lips. “You’re his kid. Shouldn’t you know what he's up to?”

Raven bit down on the inside of her cheek. Trigon had business with earth in the past, yet this seemed…different. Something about it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand upright. 

The Totoro plush waddled back to Raven’s side. It hugged her calf, peering up at her with it’s stitched smile.

“I'm going to have to wash you when I get home.” Raven sighed, then looked up at Greed. They edged away from the stuffed animal. 

“Uh — ya know? I’ll just jump inside that crystal. No muss, no fuss…” Greed’s laughter was weak and…frightened? 

Raven held up one of her crystals. She repeated the procedure on Greed and Lust before securing the portable prisons in her bag. Totoro kept staring at her, it's fluffy limbs swaying back and forth like a child’s. 

Raven paused with her hands zipping up the bag at her side. That’s four. We’re missing one.

Raven heard a gurgling noise behind her. Envy dropped to the ground, heaving as their horns scratched the floor. Steam rolled off their form.

“No!” They gasped. “I’m sealed in — I can't get out! I won't end up like them!”

Envy bounded towards Raven on all fours —

And soared overhead, to the double doors where Victor, Jason, and Billy waited. 

Raven’s jaw clenched as her nails dug into her palm. She refused the urge to raise her hand. Her plan would work. 

But what if it doesn't? What if the holy water isn't enough, and the demon tears through everyone? 

Her hand trembled. What if I do raise my hand and time stops — or my clones wreak havoc — or I somehow wrench open the Gates of Hell — or I rip reality to shreds —

A staircase flashed before her eyes. She knew she was high up — so high that a fall downwards would be fatal. 

Envy’s descent was coming to an end, talons aimed for the double doors. Would her plan work? Was it worth risking their lives? Was there even a risk at all? 

Envy’s scale-covered limbs twisted in inhuman ways. They hissed in pain as they dropped to the floor before the door, writhing and seething. 

Raven lowered her hand.

“I am not John Constantine.” She murmured to no one. 

—>*<—

When Raven trailed down the steps, night had shrouded the sky in it's ebony cloak of diamonds. Jason plucked a cigarette from his mouth and extinguished it with his boot upon seeing her. Victor and Billy stood ten feet away, plugging their noses from the smoke. 

“You morons are being overdramatic — and that’s coming from a thespian,” Jason taunted. 

“I’m an athlete. I value what’s left of my body,” said Vic, his voice still nauseated with his plugged nose.

“I don't really care. I’m from New York. I just don't like you,” said Billy, removing his fingers at last when Raven approached. 

“It's done?” said Victor, averting his eyes from the tainted Totoro in Raven’s grasp. 

“Almost.” Her gaze flitted to Jason, “Got a light?” 

“You smoke?”

“That's not what I asked.”

Jason handed her a lighter. Raven turned to face the church.

“Wait — you’re not gonna…”

The holy water had worn off. The sting in her nostrils was gone and there was no longer a wet strand in the dirt.  

Raven scrambled around in her bag once more. She shook a can of hairspray.

A hand fell upon her shoulder. Victor’s warm amber eye bore into hers. 

“Ray…you sure this is a good idea? This feels…wrong.” His metal hand tightened ever so slightly on her arm. 

“It's not done out of disrespect. Demon blood was shed. It's not safe to leave it there,” said Raven. Her finger rested on the head of the spray can. 

“Dude, I don't think this is gonna help your Daughter-of-Satan reputation…” Billy called from behind.

Jason’s hand shot up. “I’ll do it!”

Raven hesitated. “I don't like that look in your eyes, Todd. I’m doing this.”

Raven set out upon setting the building ablaze. It didn't take long. The four kept watch of the controlled burn. 

“You’re not allowed to tell John Constantine about this,” said Raven as flames danced across their faces. “On second thought — don't tell anyone about what happened tonight. Ever.”

Jason hummed as the flames popped and crackled. “Great cult meeting, guys. Next time I’ll invite Demon Boy to join us.”

Raven’s face flushed at Damian’s nickname. “Can you stop spewing bullshit whenever I’m around your brother?”

“I’ve been goin’ easy on you, sis. Just wait until we’re in-laws.” Jason winked at her. 

Raven ignored him. She pondered what relation the Sins had to Trigon. One issue was resolved; another arose. “How did the Sins escape in the first place?”

Billy stuttered. “Uh…I was super busy with homework?”

“I know that’s a lie.” Victor muttered under his breath.

“Okay,” Billy sighed, “since Raven left the Titans, I’ve kinda been helping them out as their big guns on missions…I guess I got a little sidetracked while being on two teams.” 

Everyone went silent. The roof of the building came in, showering the air with sparks. 

“...So, all in all, this is my fault.” Raven stared into the fire that seemed to cackle at her. “Yay.”

Chapter Text

— H A L L   O F   D O O M —

Raven’s gaze abandoned the screen as the office door creaked open. Zatanna’s head popped inside. “Working hard?”

Raven yawned, pushing away from her desk. The end credits of Howl’s Moving Castle drifted across her computer. “It's a real struggle.” 

If she were fully human, being Lex Luthor’s assistant would be a nightmare. But it was surprisingly simple. She felt whatever mood Luthor was in before encountering him, and could portal to whatever coffee or lunch items Luthor craved (despite her recent neglect in magic, Raven wouldn’t give up the convenience of portals). Conner gladly helped her get the egomaniac’s coffee and sort files together.

Raven hated to admit it, but she enjoyed working for Lex. Being an assistant was so...underwhelming. Half of Raven’s days were spent hiding in her office, watching movies on the computer. 

Zatanna perched on the edge of Raven’s desk with a brown paper bag in hand. “I heard about you taking down the Sins. Good job.”

“Thanks…” Raven averted her eyes, feeling the familiar, stiff awkwardness that accompanied praise. 

Zatanna’s mouth opened, but the groan of Raven’s door cut her off. Conner leaned on the doorframe, “Hey Ray, Luthor’s calling a meeting for all villains in a half hour, main conference room.”

“Thanks, Kon.”

“Your hair looks nice today,” He said. “Kinda got some curls going on there. It's cute.”

Raven subconsciously tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Conner’s compliments always caught her off guard. It was something she wasn't used to — what was she supposed to say back? The same awkwardness from Zatanna’s praise seemed to overcome her, locking up her tongue. 

Conner winked at her before closing the door. When Raven’s gaze returned to Zatanna, her eyebrows were wiggling at her. 

“What?” Raven asked, exasperated.

“You know.” Zee pressed a finger to her lips. “I think that boy likes you.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “He’s just screwing around. It’s just an act, like a personality defect or something.” 

“Oh? He seems pretty sincere to me. That must be the one John mentioned,” Zatanna murmured the last part. 

Raven’s hand froze on her mouse. “You talk about me?” 

Zee patted her hand. “It’s just because we care, honey. And if you bring another Tommy Torres home, we will kill him…is that a hickey?” 

Raven’s hand flew up to her neck. Heat flashed across her face from the memory of the Sins. 

“I met with Harley and Ivy for drinks,” Raven lied, “they were red, and Harley got so drunk she thought she was a vampire and bit everyone.” 

Zee hummed. “I didn't think you liked alcohol.”

“I don't like John’s alcohol.” Raven defended, which was true. When she’d gone out drinking with John, he always ordered for her. She never understood why; they were all foul-tasting. 

Zatanna’s eyes narrowed as if she knew something Raven didn't. “He does have exotic tastes.” 

“That's a way to put it…” Raven hiked up the collar of her jacket, trying to hide the purple bruise. It was like a question mark engraved on her skin. Why would Lust take the form of Damian? Why do memories of an apocalypse make me happy? Why can't anything make sense?

Raven absentmindedly played with her fingers. “Zee?”

“Yes?”

“When you were with John,” Raven paused. She’d never asked about their relationship before. It wasn't her business — and if Zee refused to speak of it, she’d respect it. “Do you ever…think about your time together? The memories?”

Raven hadn't dared to look at Zatanna’s face when she spoke, but peeked up at her now. Her eyes widened at the sight that awaited her. The color of pink roses bloomed in Zatanna’s cheeks. 

This feeling…I’ve felt it before, it couldn't be —

“It's a natural thing to do. Everybody does that,” Zatanna’s gaze remained fixed across the office, far away from Raven’s features. 

“And…how did it make you feel?” 

Zee’s eyes pierced hers beneath a line of obsidian bangs. “Why do you ask?” 

Raven’s fingers froze. “What if…you have memories of someone, and logic dictates that they should be bad, but…they don't feel that way?”

Zatanna sighed. She stared out the window. “If a memory of the person is supposed to be bad, yet it doesn't make you feel that way…maybe it's an indicator of the person itself.”

“An indicator of what?”

“That they make you happy.” Zee stared down at her hands. 

Silence filled the office. Zatanna sat quietly while Raven tried to sort this new epiphany — which puzzled her as much as a complex math problem. 

The Flashpoint memories with Damian weren't bad — if anything…they made her smile. And when she thought back on those moments, even a miserable moment made her happy. 

Made me happy?

“Oh, I thought I’d bring you some lunch.” Zatanna patted the brown paper bag. “It's from Poison Chives. A classic Red Hood — pepperoni, chicken, purple onions…”

“It smells great. Thanks, Zee.” 

Zatanna shrugged as she finally rose from Raven’s desk. “I know you have a meeting to get to. I just wanted to say hi. It's been awhile, and I don't get to see you at the House anymore…”

“I miss you, too,” said Raven.

Zatanna smiled. “Have fun working with killers and former psychotic inmates, sweetie.” 

“I will.” 

“If Scarecrow offers you anything, don't take it.” 

“Even if it tastes lemony?” 

Zatanna glanced back at Raven’s smirk one last time as she reached the door. “Be good.” 

As the vibrant blue of Zatanna’s portal flashed across the office, Raven sighed. Luthor would be ticked if she wasn't there early. She gathered her things (a notepad to draw bunnies in) and left.

Someone walked right past Raven's door as she started walking. 

Harvey Dent.

Two-Face looked over his shoulder at her. Not glanced. A long, tactful stare. She didn't know why he looked at her so much. Raven had never met Two-Face in her life. There was no way he would recognize her. 

Raven glared and caught up to him. “Is there a problem that human resources should be aware of?”

His half-burnt lips twitched upwards. “For Luthor’s secretary, you got some backbone, chick.” 

“Maybe that should serve as a reminder that I don't work for you,” said Raven. 

Two-Face’s steps halted on the bland gray tile. It was more difficult to read his expression with half of his face marred, the tissue turned to ghastly shades of burgundy and blue. His undead appearance (not to imagine the underlying smell, which he tried so desperately to mask with a musky cologne, but the pungent odor remained just beneath the surface) reminded her of the demons she fought not too long ago.

“You have your mother’s eyes.” Two-Face said. 

He continued walking without another word.

Chapter Text

Raven sat in dumbfounded silence as Luthor prattled on. “If Joker shows up and tries to take over this meeting, Grey, there are some pills I have left over from my root canal in my top desk drawer. The max is two. Get me four.”

Raven kept glancing at Two-Face. He sat a few seats away, texting on his phone. Every now and then he would look up at her and smile. 

“Is there a problem?” Luthor’s eyes darted between Raven and Gotham’s former district attorney. 

Raven’s shoulders hunched. Luthor was blind to social cues and discreteness — or he simply refused to take part in them. She held a file up to her lips and whispered in his ear, “How well do you know him?” 

Luthor made a face at her attempt of incognito. “We’re not besties. It’s hard to socialize with the Gotham crew. They all have history with one another, dating back to their early years.”

“Arkham?” said Raven.

“Farther.” Lex’s eyes narrowed as more spots were filled around them. “Scarecrow, Riddler, and Two-Face went to high school together. Mr. Freeze lived down the block from Quinn growing up. That’s how it is in Gotham: everyone knows everyone. If you’re an outsider, it’s hell to make it here. Thankfully, I’m gifted.” 

Raven marveled at the room with new eyes. How easily those from Gotham were drawn to one another. They sat side by side without the slightest hint of unease. Did Raven’s mother cross paths with the villains in the room?

She knew Two-Face, evidently. But how?

Something tapped Raven’s shoulder. She looked up. Conner leaned in close to murmur in her ear, “Hey, I found something you gotta see.”

“What is it?”

“It’s…relevant.” Conner’s eyes darted to Two-Face.

Raven looked to Luthor. He scoffed, “You’re lucky you are one personal assistant of five. Take care of him.” 

Raven softly excused herself as she followed Conner out of the room. The hushed atmosphere of the meeting vanished as they walked along the corridor.

“What did you find?” said Raven. 

“It’s uh…a couple floors down. Floor six. Here,” A workout bag was slung over Kon’s shoulder. His hand plunged inside and procured a pair of black roller skates with red shoelaces. 

“Are those…for me?” Raven blinked in surprise. She hesitantly accepted the pair.

“Yeah. I thought it would be fun…”

“Like Career Opportunities?”

“That is a great movie…! Besides, this is pretty intense stuff, so I thought it would lighten the mood.” Conner glanced at the floor.

Pretty intense stuff? A pit was forming in Raven’s stomach. “How did you find out about this?” 

They boarded the elevator and Conner pressed the button. The box around them hummed as it came to life. Raven’s reflection slid across every glossy surface, throwing a worried glance at her companion. 

Conner held out a letter in a black envelope. “Found this on the floor before the door of your office. Someone must’ve just put it there after you left for the meeting.”

Raven’s heart clenched as her eyes fell upon the letter. Two-Face had walked right past her door as she left. Did he plant it then? Was it the work of one of his goons? Or was it someone else entirely?

Conner passed the parchment to Raven. She held the letter up to the light. It was difficult to tell with a black envelope, but she didn't see any odd shape of the contents inside. There was something hard inside the envelope that was cool against her fingers. Her eyes flickered and her Demonic Stare inspected the letter.

“Woah. Cool,” Kon studied the extra set of crimson eyes that appeared on her skull. 

There was no magic detected on the letter. No enchantments or curses. Raven lowered the letter and ripped it open with her finger. 

A folded piece of paper and a key were nestled inside. Kon looked over Raven’s shoulder as she flattened the sheet. “Do you mind if I peek with you?”

“Not at all.” 

They read the message in silence. Raven reread them over and over in her head, lips forming silent words. 

Bluebeard gave his wife the key and forbid her to open the door,

Will you ignore this warning, bird who croaks nevermore? 

“The bird who croaks nevermore is obviously you. What’s with the Bluebeard?” said Kon.

“The Grimm Brothers, maybe?” Raven guessed. “They wrote a fairy tale called Bluebeard. He married a woman and was called away. Bluebeard gave her every key to his mansion, but one key belonged to a door he forbade her from opening.” 

“What was behind the door? Or do I not want to know?” Conner asked. 

“The corpses of his former wives.”

“...Ah.” Conner nodded. “Those are some…not so nice skeletons in the closet.”

The elevator dinged. The double doors slid open. They stepped out together. A long corridor with few doors loomed before them.

Raven turned the key over in her hand. Two numbers were engraved in the metal; room sixty-six. 

It was an ominous ‘warning.’ The letter could still be Two-Face’s doing; fairy tales had many connections to legal studies. The Grimm Brothers' social circle included lawyers. It wouldn't surprise her if Harvey Dent’s former legal status had inspired its use.

What’s behind the door that this key belongs to, then?

Conner shrugged on his own pair of skates. Raven pressed a steady hand to the wall as she put hers on. Part of her wasn't up for playing with roller skates. But perhaps Kon was right; it would be a distraction to focus on staying upright so her emotions wouldn't rise up. 

When she was standing upright, three inches taller, she looked over at Kon. He held out his hand, “Shall we, milady?”

“Lead the way, milord,” Raven rolled her eyes. She was new to skating. Balancing was not a new concept, since she hovered in the air sometimes. But the wheels had a mind of their own.

Raven clutched Conner's hand as they moved forward.

Their progress was slow at first. Raven wobbled and nearly took Kon down twice. He never showed an ounce of irritation at her progress. Kon’s patience seemed endless, gliding along (and dragging her with him). His encouragement most definitely mirrored Clark’s.

Raven’s strides became more purposeful. Instead of being pulled behind Conner, she drifted next to him. Her hand still clutched his as a just-in-case lifeline. 

Conner smiled at her. Not the over-dashing smirks he flashed at her after a flirtatious comment. A pure, soft smile. 

His hand squeezed hers as they raced down the corridor. The grumble of the roller skates echoed on the walls, almost as loud as their laughter. 

Room sixty-four passed by. 

“We’re almost there,” Raven said. To her disappointment, their movements slowed. The skates crawled across the ebony tile with golden cracks. 

Room sixty-five flit by next. 

Raven clutched Conner’s hand tighter. Her just-in-case lifeline took on a new purpose. 

Their skates stopped before the next door. Room sixty-six. 

Turn back. Raven flinched at Trigon’s voice. She stared at the golden cracks on the floor as she composed herself.

No matter what happens or what is on the other side of this door, I will not freak out. I will not stop time. I will not accidentally summon a hell portal. I will remain calm.

They stepped out of their skates. Raven plunged the key into the lock. The mechanism clicked.

The door groaned as it slid open. A musky cologne reeking of money and refined taste burst from the entrance. 

“You gonna be okay?” Kon looked her up and down. “If it gets to be too much, we can leave. I’ll take you as far as you want.”

Raven nodded. When she spoke, her voice barely escaped her lungs. “Thank you.” 

Raven stepped into the room. 

It was an office. The interior was more elegant than Luthor’s. Black floors, black walls. The putrid scent grew stronger with every step.

Raven’s eyes drifted over each surface. Bookshelves held multiple volumes of Volaire and Rousseau, intermixed with shiny baubles. The artwork on the walls were renditions of Michelangelo’s godly depictions in red and black.

“This is creepy.” Kon muttered as he poked a gargoyle that perched upon a crystal ball.

“Not just creepy. Gothic.” Raven noted the intricate design of the room. The many arches of the shelves and windows. It was the definition of Gothic. The connection unsettled her. 

Raven approached the large, ebony desk at the center of the room. Crimson furniture adorned the space, including a massive chair with plush, scarlet cushions. Like a throne. 

“Whose office is this? Why wouldn't they want you in it?” Conner stood nearby with his arms crossed awkwardly. Unease rolled off of him in waves. Raven could sense Conner pushing the feeling down, but it still lingered in the air like perfume. 

Raven didn't dare sit in the chair behind the desk. She circled the desk lined with golden pens and red notebooks. Very organized. My own desk at the Tower is very similar to this.  

Raven circled to the front. Her eyes found the name plate at the front of the desk.

Her stomach curled. “Kon, we need to get out of here. Now.” 

“What?” 

“Now.” She turned away from the desk. The entire room suddenly repulsed her. She wanted to choke on the fumes of cologne that poisoned the air. 

“ ‘Kay.” Conner draped an arm around her shoulders and bee-lined for the exit. The room started to blur. Raven leaned into him and staggered out of the room. 

“Whose office was that, or are we not talking about it?” Conner sped down the hallway. They arrived at the elevator in the blink of an eye.

“Give me a day.” Raven pressed a hand to her temple as the environment changed dramatically. The seconds ticked by until the brass doors opened. 

Conner pressed the button for a higher floor as Raven leaned on the railing. The reflection right next to her had a white gemstone on her forehead. Everything else was black. 

Raven looked away. Her eyes squeezed shut.

I have something to discuss with you, daughter.

No. I have something to discuss with YOU. Raven’s hands curled into fists. Why do you have an office here, Father?

Chapter Text

Raven’s feet dangled off the roof. Her arms were crossed against the cold wind.

Conner sat next to her. He led her up to the top of the Legion of Doom’s headquarters. Bone-white lines were laced over the roof for helicopter landings — which must’ve been a rare occurrence with the thunder groaning above their heads. 

Kon continued to steal glances at Raven. He said nothing. His mouth opened, then he hesitated. If Raven’s emotions weren't as rampant as the roaring heavens above them, perhaps she could’ve guessed what lingered on his tongue. 

“I’m fine,” Raven insisted after his fourth failed attempt to break the quiet. “I just need to sort out some things…”

“In there, you mean?” Conner pointed to Raven’s head. He caught on quickly. 

Raven nodded. Her hair flipped into her face from the wind. She tugged back the annoying black veil with a fist. “It was my father’s office.” 

“Oh.” 

Raven looked down at Gotham City, shrieking with sirens below her shoes. She lined up her boot and it matched the height of a skyscraper. The effect captivated her. If Raven ignored the pull of the wind that beckoned her to the massive drop, she could ignore how small she was. 

“You gotta talk to him?” Kon murmured softly. 

Raven bowed her head. Her body steeled itself on the ledge. She knew it wasn't from the wind. 

“Would it help if I…?” Conner paused. “I don't even know. Can I help you? Is there anything I can do, besides relate with daddy issues?”

“Please don't call it that. And I…don't know.” Raven wasn't use to anyone asking if she needed help. It was…different. 

“Would it help if I were there when you talk to him? I’m sure it's gotta be hard, facing him alone…I get that more than anybody…”

Raven bit her lip. “If I let you in, I’m afraid he might try to possess your mind and escape.” 

“Is he capable of that while he’s in there?” Conner pointed to the gem on her forehead. Raven loathed how it stood out on her face, a blood stain on white snow. 

“There’s less of a chance, but it wouldn't be the first time he targeted a Kryptonian.” Memories of Clark’s encounters with Trigon surfaced. How his skin seared an inflamed red and angry flames replaced the calm blue of his natural gaze. Raven shuddered. 

“Okay. Then I’ll stay right here. And if you need me, I’ll be there.” Conner crossed his legs and shut his eyes. His still form rivaled a statue. 

The lifelessness of Conner’s form didn't suit him. Raven suppressed the urge to poke his nose, simply for his face to return to its natural smirk. “...You don't have to just sit there, Kon. You can look at your phone or something…”

“I know.” One eye popped open and winked at her. “Sometimes it's fun to practice the super-hearing thing. I like to see how far it can go, listen to cities and stuff. Sometimes there’s a concert goin’ on.”

Hmm. Interesting how he doesn't choose to block them out. Or maybe that's just me.  

Raven exhaled and shut her eyes. 

When her lashes fluttered open, her homeworld lay sprawled before her. Azarath.

Even the enchanting illusion before Raven didn't do true Azarath justice. Marble masterpieces rose from a flora so rich and green it couldn't be mistaken for earth. Something sweeter than lavender drifted from lilies sighing on bone-white stems. As she drew in the scent, a feeling of peace blossomed in her chest. 

That shattered as a man loomed over her. “Hello, daughter.”

It was only by the chains and the ebony hair they shared that Raven recognized him. Trigon’s tresses were pulled back in a bun. Instead of scarlet skin stretched over muscle, a crimson suit adorned his (unusually human-like) physique. The same overwhelming cologne from the office pervaded the air around them. 

He’s never taken a human form before. Not when he speaks to me.

“What are you doing with the Legion of Doom?” Raven demanded. "Why did you hire the Sins?"

Her father’s head cocked to the side. The earrings dangling from his lobes clinked like a fairy crying as he did so. “Join me. Sit.”

Trigon’s office chair appeared from thin air. His chains rattled as he crossed his legs in a dramatic arc. A table housing a black tea set materialized, accompanied by a significantly smaller chair. 

Raven scowled at the empty seat. She turned away from it and placed her hands on the opposite side of the table. 

“I do not understand your obsession with chamomile.” Trigon’s terribly handsome features twisted at the thought of something so soothing. 

“And I detest your obsession with heavy metal.” Raven snapped. Ever since she began to actively listen to music, Trigon provided detailed critiques upon her taste.

“Compared to your —”

“I don't care!” Raven shouted. Reality flickered. The chains that bound Trigon’s limbs glowed a soft violet. The sky vanished; an endless void of swirling shadows flashed. Then the landscape reverted to its calming, natural state. 

Trigon smirked. “Strong. Like father…”

“What is your interest in Gotham?” said Raven. Her hands curled into fists on the table. “It can't be a coincidence. Using mom’s hometown.”

The tombstone from Raven’s conversation with Ivy crept into Raven’s thoughts. She pushed away the feeling of the cold stone beneath her fingertips. 

Trigon poured himself a cup of chai and glared at Raven over the rim. “When I courted your mother, Dent was…an amusing creature. How he ran circles around her just to grab her attention. When a wolf growls at a rat, however…”

A low rumble resembling laughter rose in Trigon’s chest. “You came into possession of some powerful memories recently, daughter.”

“The Flashpoint.” Raven guessed. 

Trigon bowed his head. “That ending did not bode well for anyone. Especially not I. Imprisoned for eternity with that so-called “titan.” Darkseid is a pitiful insect that seeks to claim whatever is in sight like an infant.”

A fleeting memory swept past. Trigon dragged Darkseid with him into the pocket dimension that destroyed Apokolips. At the time, he called it a “gift.” Perhaps her father realized it was another cage that he sought to evade.

Raven’s father hesitated. A look of distaste twisted his ever-prideful smirk. “But he’s strong. Physically, perhaps he could entertain me for millenia. But I am more than unchallenged strength. My intellect remains superior.”

“Narcissist.” Raven muttered under her breath. 

“As physically entertaining as Darkseid would be, I fear he lacks the mental power to pose a true challenge. I will not be confined due to his downfall. ” Trigon’s arms lounged on the armrests. He inclined his head towards Raven. “Do you recall the fate of Gotham’s criminals during the Flashpoint?”

“Harley led the suicide squad after Joker’s death —”

“Harley Quinn’s role during the Flashpoint is common knowledge.” Trigon rolled his eyes. “And you believe yourself to be smart, daughter. What of her lover, Poison Ivy? What of the other members of the Legion of Doom?”

Trigon tapped his fingers on the armrests, rings clinking like a clock ticking seconds as Raven searched her memories in vain. Joker was killed. That was all she knew of Gotham’s unseen villains. 

But if Joker died…is it safe to assume the rest were killed as well? If Ivy were alive, surely the events of the Flashpoint would’ve been different, wouldn't they?

“They were dead?” Raven said.

“They were killed.” Trigon corrected her. “Darkseid used Batman as his puppet and brain. Batman knew of their power. Darkseid simply let Batman eliminate anyone who posed a threat.”

“By keeping the Gotham criminals alive — and close — you plan to take out Darkseid.” Raven concluded. Her tone was wispy from her surprise. She had never agreed with one of Trigon’s goals. This was one objective that Raven didn't oppose. 

“Which brings me to my proposition, daughter.” Trigon rose from his chair and circled the table. Raven took a step back as he stood before her. Her father’s hand hovered in the air before them, then Trigon drew it back. 

“Join me. We will destroy Darkseid together. Your mother’s past will be our salvation.”

Raven’s expression didn't shift. She had heard many of Trigon’s propositions. Whatever luster they held, she had learned to see through them. 

“And after? You take over the world? You use me to destroy my home?” Raven rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard that pitch before. Hard pass.” 

“Perhaps access to my resources will make this a…suitable transaction.” Trigon rubbed his chin in thought.

Raven's brows rose. “You want to bribe me? No thanks.”

Trigon studied her in tactful silence. Everything about the interaction unnerved Raven. It wasn't Trigon’s style. The subtlety, her mother, attempting to speak with her, not at her. A pit of dread expanded in her stomach for whatever came next. 

“Surveying the events of our past life, it occurs to me that our relationship is…lacking.” said Trigon.

It took all of Raven’s willpower not to punch him in the face. 

“We have a common goal. I thought this would be a chance to unite us.”

Raven stared at her shoes. It sounded like Trigon meant it. It almost sounded like a parent. But the ruler and businessman before Raven would never put her needs above his. 

“If you must insist on keeping me here, at the very least, use the Legion of Doom to continue my work. Invite Poison Ivy! That’s the only friend you have that I approve of,” Trigon said, offhanded.  

Raven shot a doubtful glance at her father. “You approve of Ivy?”

“She’s a powerful, independent woman that can summon an army at her fingertips. Using the very earth as her weapon, her power would make planets tremble…! Not that it’s impressive or anything.” 

Raven shook her head. She had enough of the encounter. “Goodbye, father.” 

“Remember my proposition! You need me! My work will save all of those pitiful peons you adore so much…! You can’t stop the war ahead without me! You are MINE —”

Raven’s eyes opened. The sky was dark. With clouds, not an endless void. She sighed as thunder rumbled, promising rain over Gotham. 

“So? What’s the verdict?” said Conner. 

Trigon’s words echoed in Raven’s head, but he was silent. It felt as if he were observing every move she made, scrutinizing every thought. 

“I’ve never seen him this way before.” Raven said softly.

“Was he mean?” Kon smashed his fist into his open palm, glaring at the crystal on her head.

“Yes, but that's normal. Something was…off.”

“What was it?”

“He was…human.” The first raindrop landed right on Raven’s forehead, splattering on the gem. Raven flinched at the feeling. 

“What if you asked Constantine for help?” said Conner. “He seems like a chill mix of monster and businessman, kinda. Maybe he would know what to do with this?” 

Raven resisted the temptation to leap at the opportunity. Constantine would have a plan. But would she risk exposing him to Trigon? 

Raven shook her head. “No. He’s…busy. But there might be someone else who would know what to do — with Trigon and the others.” 

— S E L I N A   K Y L E ’ S   R E S I D E N C E —

Raven knocked on the grand double doors. Cats mewed and purred from the inside. 

Harley Quinn poked her head out. A green mud mask covered her face. “You in for a girls night, Sabrina?”

Chapter Text

“Welcome to la nuit de filles!” Harley threw the double doors open wide. The strong scent of cat struck Raven’s nose. Selina Kyle’s residence wasn't what she expected; marble columns, wide windows overlooking Gotham city, golden railings leading a flight of stairs to the second half. It was a wonder Catwoman could afford all of it — until Raven remembered her life’s work. 

Raven followed Harley inside. She bit back a smile as she recognized ABBA playing from speakers around the room.

“Here are the girlies,” Harley gestured towards the couch, “this is Selina the Crazy Cat Lady and Nora the Ice Cream Queen. Girls, this is Raven the Teenage Witch!”

“Hi! You look like you could use a drink,” the liquid in Nora’s wine glass sloshed as she waved at Raven. Her ivory hair shimmered in the lamp light. Raven smiled and uttered a polite decline. Getting drunk was not wise with Raven’s…skillset, and she had a feeling this gathering wouldn't set a limit for her like John did. 

Selina said nothing, yet her presence dominated the room. She was the source of Raven’s dread. Selina was also tightly knit with the Batfamily. Does she know about Damian and I…?

Selina’s gaze, sharp as a lioness, flickered over Raven. “So, you’re the girl that made Robin flee the country.”

Raven felt all eyes in the room shift to her. Only many years of meditation and practicing strict composure kept Raven from gaping on the spot. 

“I hear you’re a billionaire’s new house cat,” said Raven. 

“When I want to be.” Selina’s gaze cut like diamonds. “The gem on your head is a brave fashion choice. Doesn't appear to be true garnet or ruby; did you splurge at Claire’s?” 

“Let’s play nice and keep the claws to ourselves,” Harley stepped in front of Raven, turning her back on the sofa. “Why don't you say hi to Ivy? She’s in the kitchen doing witchcraft. That’s right up your alley!”

“Witchcraft?” 

Raven was ushered across the white linoleum to another massive room. Granite countertops gave way to fancy stovetops. Rows of Fancy Feast gave the kitchen a less enticing smell.

Ivy was at the kitchen island with her hands in a tub. Her face was a slightly different green from the face mask. When she looked up, her hands froze. “Hey. I didn't know you were stopping by.” 

“We have a party crasher! Let me get ‘cha some jams, you can borrow one of mine!” Harley patted Raven’s shoulders and skipped out of the room. 

Raven and Ivy were alone. 

“How’s interning at Doucheville?” Ivy said. Her voice was light with hesitance. Slender, stem-like fingers dipped into the tub before her, stirring the contents. 

“Nothing exciting.” Raven sent Ivy text updates about any of Luthor’s movements (or anything environment related). Most of them only received read receipts. Raven’s eyes trailed down to the tub, “What are you doing?” 

The tub was transparent, revealing the contents. Fabric twisted like nebulae in space amongst dull gray water. 

“Laundry.”

“I’ve never seen laundry done that way before.” Raven said. 

“I just bought this earlier. To make sure my new clothes don't bleed onto my old ones, I soak them in detergent water like this for their first wash. It’s environmentally friendly and prevents accidents,” said Ivy.

Raven closed the distance between them and looked down from above. A black blouse bobbed in the water. The gray liquid must’ve been from the dye. 

“Blue and black always bleed the most,” Ivy murmured. “Red does too, sometimes. If it’s strong enough.” 

“That’s smart. But why do it tonight?” 

Ivy snorted. “You’re kidding, right? I assume Selina already got a dig in you since you walked through the door. Imagine that for an entire evening. It's even worse with her being my ex — technically. Which doesn't matter, I don't know why I brought that up…”

Raven nodded. “That has to suck.” 

“And she does it with such a straight face, too! And you always think of cool comebacks to say after and it eats up your soul.”

Despite the shared irritation, the energy between Raven and Ivy was…calm. Inviting, like it was when they went to Poison Chives. It gave Raven the confidence to carry out what she came here to ask. 

“Can I ask you for advice…? It's about my father.” Raven said.

Ivy looked up. Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not the best with fathers, but sure. I guess.” 

Raven circled the island and sat on a stool across from Ivy. It was better this way, in case her legs gave out from shaking. “Two-Face is working with my father.”

“What? Dent’s a backstabbing dickwad. I’d steer clear of him — is he bothering you?” Ivy’s skin paled beneath the mud mask.

Raven bit her lip and continued. “I found a cryptic note on the ground that lead me to my father’s secret office —”

“Your father’s hooked up with the LOD? Hold on, why didn't you tell me about this shit?” Ivy stopped short and glanced at the door. ABBA and delighted shrieks erupted from the living room. When Ivy continued, her voice was hushed, “Who cares about Luthor’s manicures when this is happening!” 

“I’m sorry. When it comes to family, it’s instinct to keep it to myself,” said Raven. 

Ivy sighed and stepped back from the counter. She removed the wet blouse from the tub and squeezed out the excess water. Black dye trickled out like blood from an open wound. “What’s your father’s motive?” 

“To escape this,” Raven pointed to the gem on her forehead. “And he’s listening in now. It’s hard to plot against him when he can hear my thoughts.”

Raven could hide some thoughts. But the effort put into doing so for a long period of time would be difficult. Trigon would voice his anger, too — it was a wonder he kept quiet thus far. Ivy’s mind was safe.

I don't want to involve her in this…but it looks like Trigon plans to confront Darkseid with Gotham criminals. Ivy is safer than others. If I do this on my own, and my powers...misbehave beyond my control...

Ivy headed towards the sink to rinse her blouse. “So we can assume that our conversation is being…listened in on. At all times.” 

“Yes.” 

Ivy grabbed a hangar and hung her blouse over the sink. Black droplets dribbled down. She glanced back at Raven, “I don't know your father, so I don't know how helpful I am there. But I do know Two-Face. I can attack it from that angle. You have Superboy with you at the office, right?”

Raven nodded. Ivy’s emerald lips pressed into a thin line. “Good. Hopefully he's not as gullible as Superman. If they can spy on us, we can spy on them.” 

They smiled at each other. Raven missed Ivy. It could be said that the conversation was emotionless, but that wasn't entirely true; neither engaged directly with feelings. A solution was sought without prodding at scars and drawing blood. But Ivy saw the scars.

All of this deception. If you wish to know my plans, daughter, you need only ask.

Raven ignored him. If deception was Trigon’s new tactic, she would fight fire with fire. Whatever facade he carved to unite them in defeating Darkseid wouldn't bury the past. 

Harley burst through the door. “Good news! I found these cute jammies with red hearts on them that would look super cute on you! And I have a surprise I wanna show to everybody! Come on!” 

Harley threw the shorts and top in Raven’s direction and sprinted out to the living room. Raven half-expected Harley to leave a cloud of dust in her wake with her endless amounts of energy. When Raven threw a glance at Ivy, she shrugged. “What? She’s cute when she’s all excited.” 

They joined the small gathering in the living room. Raven chose a spot on the couch next to Ivy, using her and Nora as buffers from Catwoman. Harley kneeled by the coffee table with her hands clasped behind her back. The speakers around the room murmured in the background. 

“So, I was digging through my closet and I found one of my mom’s old scrapbooks!” Harley presented a large binder to them. Letters in glitter were sprawled across the front: HARLEY DAYS Vol. 27.

“I’m assuming happy days didn't apply,” Catwoman muttered into her martini. 

Nora gasped in awe, “Woah, how many did your mom make?” 

“She only made scrapbooks when she was drunk. Which was all the time…there are so so many…” Harley looked off into the distance, deep in thought until she shook it off. She flipped through the thick pages, “Aww, this brings back so many childhood memories! Here’s the first restraining order filed against me. And here is me performing operations on my dolls with the neighbor kids…”

Harley’s alabaster fingertips trailed across the page. Raven’s gaze flitted across strangers’ faces interacting with young Harleen. She stopped to stare at a torn photo bathed in violet light from a concert. Harley wasn't in that one. A teenager smiled back at Raven.

Raven inched closer to scrutinize the stranger. Her black hair swayed, capturing her movement and making her look alive. Her eyes were soulless amethysts.

Raven’s eyes widened. “That’s my mom.” 

“What?” 

“No way!”

Raven pointed to the picture of her mother. A man’s arm was around her, but his face was hidden by the tear. It was the first time Raven had ever seen her mother smile. 

“O. M. G. Angie was your mom —? That makes SO much sense! You look a lot like her!” Harley covered her gaping mouth with both hands. 

Words fell from Raven’s mouth without permission. “What was she like?” 

“We used to play with dolls together and climb trees. She was super smart — Angie could tell short stories right on the spot, and I would always ask her for one when I saw her or when I got bored. Angie was also the most reckless bitch I knew. This photo was when she snuck out to a concert — she told me it was a total banger and everybody died! Ha! Pretty sure she elaborated on everything in her stories, but it was always to the best effect.

“When she was sixteen, Angie told me she was moving out to join a cult. I never saw her after that. Somewhere at my parents’ house is a box full of poetry she wrote. It was some really deep stuff. What ever happened to her?” 

Everyone looked at Raven. She swallowed. Angela Roth and her mother seemed like two entirely different people. One was a childhood dream; the other was a twisted nightmare. 

What happened to Arella? She married young. She was raped by a monster and fled to another dimension to escape him. She gave birth to the monster’s child and that child summoned the monster without knowing. The monster burned and pillaged her refuge before her eyes. The flames ate stone and flesh. Her bones aren't beneath that headstone labeled “Angela Roth,” but the singed remains are sprayed across the ruins of the cosmos. 

“She was a great mom. She always tried her best.” Raven said. She refused to say more, because years of meditation and composure could not hold back tears. 

Nora raised her empty wine glass. “Now sounds like a time for refills. How about a round for everybody, eh?”

The question was general, but Nora looked at Raven when she spoke. 

Harley cheered, “Shots!”

Chapter Text

— M A N Y   H O U R S   L A T E R —

— H O U S E   O F   M Y S T E R Y —

The loud knock reverberated through the wood. It took a few moments for the door to open. When Constantine’s head popped out, his eyes bugged out of his head. “What the bloody hell is this? What did you do, mop the pub floor with her?”

Raven waved, leaning more into Ivy. She was the only thing keeping Raven upright. Harley snickered from behind. All three of them were covered in soil and gunpowder. 

“Harley got me drunk,” Raven pointed an accusing finger at the clown (or tried to; it pointed towards Ivy instead), “You said if I ever got drunk, I should sleep it off here so I don't rack up property damage.”

“You're such a good father,” said Ivy. 

“I’m not her father —! Hand her over, thanks for this special delivery. In the future, I prefer gift baskets,” John rolled his eyes as Raven was passed from one person to another. Even with the help of vines that sprouted from the ground, Raven stumbled into him. The familiar smell of cigarettes and aftershave filled her nostrils. 

“Happy hangover, Ray! Join us next week —!”

“Bugger off!” The door slammed shut. Harley’s spasms of laughter faded as they left. 

Raven started down the corridor but Constantine held her in place. His hands grasped her shoulders. Creases adorned his forehead. 

“This is bad timing, love. I don't know how coherent you are, but I’m hosting a Justice League meeting. Which means I can't watch you closely. Take some of those old sleeping potions you have stashed around here and sleep this off. But I say this for Rational Raven’s sake:”

John’s face inched closer to hers. The room swayed from his abrupt movement. “Do not make a fool of yourself. Keep quiet, alright? The most dangerous thing about being drunk is not having control. That’s how people do things they regret. Don't make yourself feel that later, love.” 

Raven struggled to grasp half of what he said. Her attention was diverted by a nose hair that poked out of his nostrils. Gross. She forced herself to nod anyway, bored of simply standing there. 

John paused. “How many drinks did you have, by the way?”

Raven’s head cocked to the side. “Why?”

“I didn't raise a house full of lightweights —”

“Oh my God —” Raven leaned out of his grip and attempted to navigate the ever-winding hallway. Soft murmurs from deeper inside caressed Raven’s ears, but she wasn't sure if it was the House’s magical properties or her own dazed senses. 

“— Darkseid sent in drones this evening. This is dire!”

“Don't be so dramatic. Scrotum-head is spying on us. So what.” 

“This is a very big deal! So big, homework will have to wait…”

“I say we reopen the Flashpoint dialogue —!”

The room fell silent when Raven entered. An ebony round table was set before the blazing fireplace. Members of the Justice League were bathed in gold: Clark, Diana, Victor…

Raven noticed that the crackle of the flames were the only noise in her presence. She waved shyly, “Hi.” 

Half the table awkwardly waved back at her. “Hello.”

Constantine wasn't far behind. “Don't mind us. This one is just stopping by…”

Clark’s nose scrunched up. Could he smell the alcohol? Everyone looked at her. The only one uninterested in her appearance was Batman. He sat far from the reach of the flames, curled in shadows.

Raven’s eyes widened. Somewhere within her, recognition sparked. If Batman is here, does that mean Damian has returned —?

Without warning, Raven’s stomach churned. Saliva filled her mouth. Her head was drowning. Oh no.

Raven scrambled to the nearest potted plant. Vomit pushed past her lips. The taste of bile made her wince. Ivy would not be pleased if she ever found out about this.

“Woah —”

“Is she okay?”

“She took one look at Bruce’s face and hurled! Ha ha…”

“Barry, this is a formal meeting. Don't act like a child.” 

“Kids are such a bloody nuisance.” Raven felt hands on her hair. John held it back while she was…preoccupied. 

When Raven was done, she weakly stepped away from the potted plant and wavered on her feet. Two pairs of arms reached out to steady her. 

“John, did you get her drunk?” She heard Clark whisper harshly. 

“No! The Gotham clown just dropped her off!” 

“How could you let her be around Harley? Raven’s an empath, that has to be toxic! What kind of parenting is that?” 

“I’m not her father, Clarky.” Constantine’s response was spat through clenched teeth. “Stop causing a scene and help me get her up the stairs…”

Raven’s blurry vision narrowed. One random object came into focus above the rest. The photos above the fireplace. She took some with her to Titans Tower, few remained. One in particular…

She wandered away from John and Clark. A photo of young Constantine stood out among the rest. He was breathtakingly beautiful when he was young — John had a mysterious, androgynous perfection about his face that was now hidden by a light stubble and years of smoking. The picture was ghostly similar. Violet lighting, one side was torn. A slender arm was around his waist…

Raven clamped a hand over her mouth. She turned to Constantine, “You knew my mom!” 

“What?” He blinked.

Raven pointed at the photo, “This picture — I saw the other half today! You took a picture with my mom!”

“Let me see this,” John joined her at the fireplace. He studied the photo, “This was taken in Newcastle right before we…anyway, Arella! That was her name! She really knew how to snog…”

Revulsion coursed through Raven. “You kissed my mom?”

“That was it! I think…yeah! That was all!” John spluttered and turned the frame downwards. He grabbed Raven by the arms and marched her towards the staircase. 

They passed Vic’s chair along the way. There was a faint smirk on his face. Raven’s gaze trailed to his eyes. The burning, inhuman glow of his red eye socket triggered something else in her brain. An image of him from the Flashpoint, humanoid no more: his sacrifice for humanity. Their final conversation… 

I am the source wall…Lord Darkseid...Leave before these assholes realize they’re gonna be trapped here forever…!

“Is Darkseid spying through your tech?” She asked. John literally dragged her in the other direction, cursing. Raven didn't budge.

“What?” Cyborg looked mortified. 

“With your eye thingy — whee!” Constantine hauled Raven over his shoulder and scaled the stairs two at a time. Clark trailed after them. 

“Bye!” She called out to the Justice League.

“Goodbye!” Many voices called out. Half the table was concealing smiles from a deadpan Batman. 

Constantine grumbled incoherently all the way to Raven’s old bedroom. As soon as the small party arrived, he plopped her down on the mattress. Spare pillows and stuffed animals went flying.

One fell back on Raven’s face. She pulled it away and studied him. He had a top hat and a crooked beak. Raven liked him, but couldn't remember getting him at all. “I don't remember this one.” 

“He's cute!” said Clark.

When Raven sat up, Clark took a seat next to her. The stuffed animal sat in her lap. 

“It’s called a plague doctor — I thought he screamed you. If you’re going to have stuffed animals, you should at least stay on brand,” John said. He scratched the back of his head idly. 

Raven and Clark looked up. She hugged the plague doctor to her chest. “Did you get him for me?”

“Er…eh…yeah…”

“Aww!”

John scowled as they swooned. Clark peeked over Raven’s shoulder, “You should name him!”

“Don't encourage her, Clarky. Come on, she needs rest,” John glared at Clark. Superman sighed at the dismissal, poked the plague doctor’s nose and left the room. 

Only Raven and Constantine remained. Raven held the plague doctor at eye level, admiring his black robes and dimly glowing lantern. John crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. It was too dim to clearly see his expression, but the creases in his cheeks looked like a smile. “I suppose this is karma. You dealt with me so many times when I was drunk…I’ll get the sleeping potions. If you pass out, lay on your side.” 

John left the room. With a pang, Raven realized how much she missed the House of Mystery. Her room with the stained glass windows, the endless libraries, John Constantine himself (though she’d never admit that one out loud)...

Raven fell back on the mattress, hugging the plague doctor to her chest as memories trickled back into her mind. Damian used to visit her. A lot. He knew every single plushie she had, and she couldn't imagine his reaction to this one —

Then she remembered his long absence. Her heart dropped. 

Raven turned on her side and stared out the window where he usually entered. It felt like a lifetime ago. Yet the hole in her chest was fresh. 

Even when he wasn't there, he still claimed her mind. Raven rolled her eyes, yet her cheeks burned at the thought. 

This is dangerous to think this way — to feel this way…but I can't stop.

Raven hugged the plague doctor close. Part of her wanted to twist the thoughts in a more logical direction: what Damian would do with Project Cadmus and Trigon’s entrepreneurial spirit. But it would simply be an excuse to think of him…

She closed her eyes, and dreamed of Gotham rooftops at night, misted with rain…

—>*<—

“Grey, you look dead. More than usual,” Luthor glanced up from his monitor, his gaze prickling over Raven. 

Raven’s hangover must’ve been showing. She rushed out of the House of Mystery with a migraine — last night was dangerous. John had warned her long ago that alcohol would be a terrible indulgence with her powers. Raven was lucky she didn't have an episode…that she remembered, anyway. The alcohol distracted her from her mother — and settled on Damian. Two emotionally dangerous subjects that required more discipline than usual.

“As much as I adore that your cells are dying for my cause, it’s not a good face to be associated with. Borrow one of my face masks.” Luthor opened the top drawer to his desk and held out multiple plastic packs. Most were herbal-themed. Raven and Conner shared a look of disbelief. 

Raven hesitated, “That's a generous offer, but I prefer to drink green tea, not…wear it.”

“How about we go for a walk? Get some fresh air,” said Conner. 

Raven glanced over his shoulder at the glass wall behind them. Clouds blocked out the sun from the east. A storm was brewing. The walk couldn't be long. 

“Whatever it takes,” Luthor shrugged. His gaze had returned to the monitor. The screen’s white glare colored Luthor’s skin a ghostly pallor. “Do take care not to drool on her, Superboy.” 

“I’m more of a biter, anyway.” Conner flashed a dashing smile.

Raven rolled her eyes and left Luthor’s office. Conner trailed after her. They headed down the corridor towards the glass elevator.

“Rough night?” Conner asked as they walked side by side. 

Raven grimaced. A distorted memory of stealing potted plants from Bane’s house in the middle of the night flashed across her mind. Slowly, the events of the past few hours trickled in. None of them were good. “That’s an understatement.”

“That's annoying.”

The elevator let out a chimed warning as the doors threatened to close. They slipped inside. Conner’s fingers were faster than Raven’s and pressed a button for another floor. 

Raven’s eyes narrowed as the box crawled upwards. 

“I thought we were going for a walk,” She said.

“We are,” Kon assured her with a knowing smile. “You’ll see.” 

They arrived at the top floor. Conner led her to the rooftop, a new place they frequented to share notes on Trigon and Project Cadmus. Raven tucked her hair behind her ear as the wind jostled it in her face. The cool caress against her bare skin was inviting. 

“This was a good idea,” Raven admitted. She was thankful that the storm over the city masked the harsh glare of the sun. The rain hadn't reached them yet. It was mesmerizing to watch the shadows stitch themselves between skyscrapers as thunder rumbled. 

“Want to take it one step further?”

Raven spun around; her head throbbed in retaliation. Conner hovered by the edge. His feet dangled in midair above the massive drop. His hand was outstretched towards her. 

Raven snorted as she walked towards him. “I can fly by myself.” 

“I know. That's what makes the next part so much easier.” 

Her brow rose. Raven’s curiosity lingered in the air between them. Conner didn't explain. His hand didn't move.

“Okay.” Raven trusted him. She reached out and clasped his hand.

Conner pulled her off the ground and onto the wind. Raven expected a classic Superman-and-Lois, where Conner carried her bridal style across Gotham City. She was delightfully mistaken. 

Conner’s hands held hers, raising them in the air. 

“Walk with me.” He whispered in her ear. 

Raven took a step forward in midair. Conner’s foot came down with hers. They moved as one, strolling across the sky.

Raven smiled. Just like Howl’s Moving Castle.

The air gusts kissed away the grogginess of the morning. Raven’s hands remained clutched in Conner’s, still holding her safety line. If her tired mind gave out, Conner would keep her upright. Part of her was a little worried about holding his hand; it felt all too common to her, but to Conner, she knew it meant more. 

“Do you exist simply to make cinema a reality?” Raven wondered aloud, smiling. 

“TV taught me how to feel; now real life has no appeal,” Conner sighed dramatically.

Raven chuckled as they walked. Her shoes landed on nothingness. Drooping swamps and trimmed gardens surrounding the LOD’s headquarters were sprawled below them.

“So what really happened last night? Or is that something that stays in that beautiful gem of yours?” said Conner. He gestured at her head more than the jewel where her father resided.

Raven looked away, a sudden shyness taking over. 

“I’ve been thinking about my mom lately. But I feel like I view her differently.” Raven allowed herself to say. It was a death wish to process her emotions miles above the ground with a possible victim (no matter how indestructible he was). Raven studied her mother from a new angle in a kaleidoscope. She no longer saw the reckless teenager or Trigon’s victim or even her own mother. Raven saw Arella as a person. The late-blooming epiphany was wondrous and guilt-racking all at once.

“Maybe that's a good thing,” said Conner. “It’s hard to view your parents apart from their role as actual parents. It’s…confusing.”

“It is.” 

“Anything else on your mind?” 

Raven pondered the shattered events of last night as they walked. She murmured to herself, “Damian hasn't come back…”

Conner’s footing slowed for a moment. The comforting edge in his tone faltered ever so slightly. “Go on.” 

“I miss him. I feel like I’m the reason he left…” Damian was still away on the recon mission with Batman, completely off the grid. Raven had checked in with Alfred once a day for his return. The butler (and the pets) were very familiar with Raven now.

She could try sending texts to Damian, but what would she say? She still struggled to find the right words when imagining the next conversation they had. Would he be angry? Dismissive? Or, in Raven’s worst nightmares, would he simply act like nothing had happened between them, and the kiss would be long forgotten?

He kissed me back. Raven remembered how Damian groaned into her mouth with utmost precision (and blushing cheeks). Forbidden to forget. Doomed to indulge. Raven waded through hellfire. 

Conner’s fingers tightened around Raven’s, ending her reverie. “I don't think you had anything to do with that. Despite his temperament, Damian’s not petty enough to leave just because someone upset him or something — and I doubt you could do that. You’re reserved, but in a nice way — cordial, that’s the word. And you’re smart, and you pick out cool movies, and scale the kitchen counter for chocolate —”

“You're taking that knowledge to the grave!”

“Scout’s honor.” Conner swore. His voice returned to its breezy baritone — she knew his smile had returned. “But you’re so smart, you have a reason for doing things. You wouldn't upset someone on purpose. I don't think you should beat yourself up about Robin. You’re a good person, Raven.” 

Raven paused. She had suddenly become aware of reality. Her chest was a mess. Her insides twisted and yet floated with a feathery lightness at the same time. As they spoke, a gravity linked their responses together. The warmth and electricity from their fingers —

Wait…these feelings aren't mine…are they —?

Raven glanced back at Conner’s face. His eyes regarded her carefully. “Raven, I —”

“I think we should head back.” She cut him off. Behind Conner, the storm clouds were moving towards them. Icy droplets rode the breeze and landed on her skin. “We’re about to get drenched.”

Conner nodded. “As milady commands.”

Chapter Text

Lavender-scented steam rose from Raven’s mug. She inhaled the soothing fumes reverently, hoping it would coax out calm. 

The break room was mostly empty. Scarecrow removed test tubes from his lunchbox. Bane scarfed down a burger while scrolling through his phone. There was a dull throb of emotion. Her quiet company exuded small prickles of contentment and annoyance. Otherwise, it was serene.

Raven sighed and closed her eyes. It was an ideal atmosphere for contemplation.

Raven had a theory. There was ample evidence. The way warmth and electricity sprouted every time they touched. All of the time Raven spent with him, and how much lighter things seemed in his presence. The Sin of Lust adopted his form to seduce her. When he was absent, her mind knew there was something missing. There was an ache — a hole left in his wake. 

Raven had feelings for Damian Wayne. 

She had never felt anything like this before, which explained why it took her so long to acknowledge it. Raven wasn't naive enough to use the term “love.” The word “like” was too weak, but she feared giving the emotion more power. Because she had to consider the following. 

Did Damian feel the same?

Raven’s hands tightened on her mug. Perhaps he did, at some point. Damian kissed her back, didn't he? That could be considered evidence. But Damian left. He’d been gone for weeks. Possibly to escape her — and to fulfill his duty as Batman’s ward. 

Batman attended the Justice League meeting last night. Was it safe to assume that Damian had also returned? If so, should Raven dare to pursue him? Should she approach him about the kiss? Or would that permanently alter things between them for the worse?

Raven sighed and took a tentative sip. Her face scrunched up; there was a sterile taste beneath the lavender. Something almost medicine-like. Someone must not have replaced the water filter. 

“Ms. Grey, you are brooding very intensely over there,” The deep tremor of Bane’s voice snapped Raven out of her reverie. He had finished his burger and removed the small napkin laid over his lap to dab at his mouth beneath his mask. 

Raven stared at him over the rim of her mug. “Isn't that what we’re all about here?” 

“To the naked eye, yes. But villainy is about expressing your inner turmoil! Are you processing your emotions in a healthy manner? I could recommend a therapist —”

Scarecrow looked up from his work to roll his eyes at Bane. His gaze fell across Raven in the process. The former psychologist froze. Adrenaline oozed from him. “Stop! Where did you get that drink from?” 

“Um…” Raven pointed towards the electric teapot next to the Kerigg. She was one of the few who used it. Most villains preferred coffee. 

“D-did you use the water? From the sink?” Scarecrow fidgeted in his seat. His fingers trembled and his nails chattered against the table. 

Raven nodded.

Scarecrow rose so quickly from his chair that it clattered to the floor. “You must be hospitalized immediately —! Some of my Fear Toxin leaked into the water supply!”

Raven’s eyes widened. Her gaze slowly dipped down to her mug. This was her second cup. 

She set the cup down and edged away from the counter. Raven had never been exposed to Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin before. She knew what it did: it created vivid, violent hallucinations. Delusions weren't a foreign experience, but…

“Do you have an antidote?” Raven asked. It had been awhile since she had done so, but Raven could expunge some diseases. She never got sick. Could she do the same with Fear Toxin…?

Scarecrow’s head shook slightly. He was shaking all over. Raven’s skin crawled from Scarecrow’s overpowering fear. “It’s a new strain…”

Raven forced herself to take a long breath in, hold, and slowly released through her lips. My mind is a mess, but no one has better control over emotions than me. I’ve meditated for years on end. I’ve endured Trigon’s ridicule nonstop. I can do this.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Grey! It was an accident, I swear —! Please stress that to Lex —!”

“You should have put up a sign! Signs are useful! I will escort you to safety,” Bane clasped Raven’s elbow with a giant hand and guided her out of the breakroom. Raven’s heartbeat echoed in her ears. 

“Do you feel woozy at all?” said Bane. 

Raven’s breathing was louder. Her narrowed eyes whipped across their surroundings, watching for contortions of reality. The Fear Toxin was an illusion. Like a high-definition horror movie. Raven had experience with terror. 

Raven was fortunate. She was aware of the poison. Others weren't so lucky…Raven could refrain from fighting back. Resist. 

But it would be better to wait this out somewhere safe. Somewhere empty. 

“I’m okay. I can walk myself, Bane.” Raven insisted. 

“Don't be a hero. Fear Toxin is a serious thing! You should not be alone right now.” 

Raven pressed her lips together. If she let Bane drag her to a hospital, that would make things worse. She hated hospitals. Too much pressure, too much fear. Besides, if something did happen, Raven didn’t want Bane or any civilians to suffer by her hand. 

I need to get out of here, away from people. I need —

“Conner!” Raven threw a frantic look over her shoulder. If she said Conner’s name loud enough, he or someone with advanced super hearing might come. Raven preferred Conner’s company. He’d probably downplay the situation for her sake. He wouldn't hover or worry in front of her face like Clark. 

“Do you know where Superboy is? Maybe he can take me to the…hospital quicker,” Raven pronounced each term distinctly, hoping she could be heard through thousands of voices conversing. 

It could be nothing. I could be overreacting. I could be immune. 

But her heart was beating rapidly like she’d chugged five redbulls in a row. 

“You should call him. Your family should know about this —” Bane suggested. 

John and Zatanna immediately came to mind. Raven flinched. She didn't want them to see her like this — she didn't want them to witness whatever happened if things got out of hand. 

“I will. I can take care of this, Bane. Please leave me alone —!” Raven yanked herself out of his grip and sprinted down the hall. She wrestled with her phone as Bane’s pangs of hurt pierced her too. Raven’s words were too sharp. I’m sorry. 

Raven burst into the stairwell as she scrolled through her contacts. How did she know so many people? Her finger flicked through the C’s and D’s.

“Raven.”

Out of surprise, she pressed a random contact on her phone. Raven glanced back and her feet skidded to a stop on the steps. 

Trigon stood at the top of the stairs, towering over her in flesh and blood. 

“Raven?” A familiar voice echoed from her phone. Raven didn't answer. It's not real. Whatever I see is not real…

The stairwell disappeared. Raven grimaced. She tried to remember where she was, which way was down, how close the railing was that guarded the long drop. 

There was no sky. Earth was gone. A void swallowed up every astral orb. Raven and Trigon stood on a piece of floating rock, wandering the bleak, eternal abyss. 

“I never took you for indulging in narcotics. What a disgrace,” Trigon tsked.

Trigon's human form started to scare Raven more than his true face. This was the face that mom trusted. Then he broke her. 

“I’m strong. I can resist.” Raven said. 

“What a wonderful place to lose control. Surrounded by enemies that despise you and your friends. My puppets. You will experience my weapons against Darkseid firsthand. This will be a…test run, of sorts.” Trigon’s eyes flashed with mockery. The shadow of an extra burning pair flashed across his forehead. 

“I instructed the Sins to assist Gotham’s aberrants in whatever method they required. The Fear Toxin has undergone…modifications.” A smile tugged at Trigon’s lips. “But perhaps this will be the catalyst that will finally free us. We will be together soon, I can taste it. 

“Enjoy the chaos, Raven. Relish in it. That's what we do best.” 

Raven snarled, “I am nothing like you!” 

Raven’s voice rang out across the void. Vaguely, she remembered that she was in a stairwell where sound echoed. It was best not to attract attention. Raven made a mental note not to verbally respond. 

“You’re wrong.” 

Raven’s composure shattered. She turned, breath unable to reach her lungs. Mom?

The world around them changed as Raven’s eyes fell upon Arella. They were in a church. Crimson light flooded through the windows. The stained glass depicted massacres and horrific sacrifices. Arella’s skin and white robes were dyed red in the warm glow of blood.  

Arella wore a look of disgust. “You summoned him — you destroyed our home! You ruined my life!” 

Raven had no response prepared, even in her mind. Her mother was right. Raven swallowed, but the gesture burned from the dryness in her throat. 

The windows shattered. Raven raised her arms against the rain of wood and glass. Scarlet fists tugged on the roof from above, tearing it from its hinges. As the ceiling ripped, Trigon smiled down at them. 

None of this is real. I can't take this out on the real world. I have to block it out. 

Raven turned away from her parents. Her mother reappeared in front of her. Arella stood between the rows of wooden pews, hate and regret twisting her tear-streaked face. Nothing about her resembled the beaming photograph from Harley Quinn’s scrapbook. 

Raven didn't know much about hallucinogens, but if it induced visions, there were other ways to block them out. She squeezed her eyes shut. 

That was a mistake. The ground vanished under Raven’s feet. Her body felt like it was falling in a dream, the sudden heart-wrenching pull of gravity before one awoke. Raven was still forced to endure Arella’s words. 

“Do you know what it's like? To be promised to a monster forever —?”

Sudden shrieks erupted from her mother. 

Raven’s eyes snapped open. Blood bloomed beneath the white cloth of Arella’s robes, seeping from unseen wounds. Bruises blossomed on exposed skin. 

Arella’s face altered ever so slightly. Short-cropped bangs sprouted from her scalp. Amethyst eyes were invaded by a stormy blue-gray. Her nose was longer, and her lips were fuller. 

Zatanna writhed in pain before Raven. “Do you know what it's like…? To love a monster and not be loved in return?”

“Oh, bollocks!”

Raven’s eyes widened. Oh hell no. Please no. Please —

She snuck a glance behind them, where Trigon still loomed. Trigon no longer held the ceiling aloft; John Constantine took his place. He casually tossed the roof to the side, exposing the ruins to the dark swirling clouds above. Something red splattered across Raven’s cheek from above. It's raining blood. 

A crimson hand wrapped around Raven’s torso. She writhed in its vice-like grip to no avail. Slowly, Raven was raised to meet Constantine’s burning, four-eyed gaze. 

“You just had to include me in your hallucination, didn't you, love? Replace one demon with another, ‘ey? How pathetic. You mean absolutely nothing to me!”

Raven settled on shutting her eyes once more. Constantine cackled, “Don't tell me you’re scared, love.”

The pressure against Raven’s chest intensified. Heat pricked the edges of Raven’s eyes from the pain. John squeezed her so hard Raven wondered if she would splatter across his hand. No! Don't think like that! It's fake! This is all just a high-budget horror movie. Starring the people you love. And they’re really good at pretending that they hate you. 

The pain ceased. Only whispers caressed her ears. Unseen forces stroked her legs. 

Raven opened her eyes. She stood in a sea of lilies. The white petals brushed up against her, soft as a lover’s lips. A thorn-infested thicket lurked along the edges of the meadow. A red moon beamed down upon her from an ebony sky. 

I’ve been here before. Raven had visited the meadow, long ago, in a dream of the past. She didn't remember the ending. 

A hooded figure knelt among the valley of whispering lilies.

Chapter Text

Raven waded through the sighing lilies. Her eyes were on the hooded figure. Their hidden head was bowed low, unmoving. 

“Hey!” Raven tried to call out, but her voice wouldn't rise above a rasp. She was hardly heard above the valley of unrest. 

Quiet was buried beneath the handsy petals and groaning stems. The shrouded figure stood in sharp contrast, still as stone. Raven trudged through the meadow that whispered sinister promises. She tried not to crush the flowers under her. Someone wouldn't like it if the petals were crushed, but names were fleeing her mind…thoughts were slow, like water trickling from a dam…

Raven stood behind the cloaked figure. Their hidden head was bowed low, unmoving. The lilies bent their long necks, rustling in the unquiet.

“Hello…!” Raven’s voice still refused to rise. Even when her lungs burned, barely a whisper escaped. 

Raven’s hand rose instinctively, a mirror image of Briar Rose inching towards the spindle of a spinning wheel. Her finger hovered over the stranger’s back. She lightly tapped their clothed shoulder. 

The hooded figure vanished. 

Raven was alone. Her throat clenched as her eyes scanned the meadow, searching for the one object that never moved. 

Something lightly poked her shoulder. 

Raven froze. Part of her didn't want to turn around. It was the fear of a rabbit cornered by a wolf. The pulsing adrenaline felt when a predator is near. 

Raven ignored the feeling and faced the perpetrator. 

They stood before her, hooded and still. The white robes wrapped around their unseen form were eerily familiar. 

It was Raven.

That’s what Raven thought, at first. Same amethyst eyes. Not a single hair was out of place. Then it changed. Raven’s doppelgänger smiled an uncomfortable, inhuman smile that hurt to look at. It didn't meet her eyes, crimson and bloodthirsty. A black gem glistened on her forehead. The ebony dripped down, staining her papery white face like ink. 

It all happened quickly then. 

The Other Raven’s limbs stretched, bones snapping and flesh tearing. Wings unfurled and blocked out the sky. Sharpened blades sprouted from the massive appendages, shrieking as they slid against each other. When they fluttered, it looked like a staircase tumbling down into nothingness. Lips, nose, and eyes vanished. Black and white were smeared on its face, swirling. 

When the monster took flight, the lilies came to life. 

The petals surrounding Raven burst into gnawing mouths full of snapping incisors. They sank into her calves and tore at her cloak. Raven bit back a hiss of pain. 

The monster roared, its expressionless face turned towards Raven. Every cell in her body urged her to run. 

Raven turned on her heel and sprinted in the opposite direction. Screams cried out to Raven as she ran, pleading for help. Out of the corner of her eye, Raven spotted Ivy suspended by lily stems. Ivy howled in agony. The lilies around her were painted red. Harley was nearby, choking on air as the stems curled around her lungs. A pale porcelain hand pierced by thorns reached out to Raven. She ignored it. 

“RACHEL!”

Raven winced when Clark screamed her name. A massive lily burst from the ground, chomping on Clark’s insides. His arm caught her ankle as she passed. Raven was forced to stare into the bottomless depths of his blue eyes. The monster wailed behind them.

“RACHEL, PLEASE! HELP ME! LOIS IS DYING —! MY SON —!”

Raven pulled herself from Clark’s grip and forced herself forward. She blinked away tears as his body was snapped and broken down behind her. A small part of her pondered Clark’s words. Her intuition flickered. His son didn’t refer to Conner. 

They’re not here. They’re fine. They’ll be okay —

“STOP!”

Raven’s feet skidded to a halt. Her body stilled. Ears strained to hear that voice. His voice. It wasn't its normal strong, husky baritone. It was strained. Raven winced at how weak it was. 

The meadow melted away. The black sky remained. Raven realized its taint was from heavy plumes of smoke, rising from crumbling skyscrapers. 

Gotham was burning. 

The acidic aroma of flames feasting on the city singed Raven’s nostrils. She searched for the source of the voice, glancing at the road, the alleyways —

There.

One of Raven’s doppelgängers hovered above the chaos. She held Damian aloft. His beautiful bronze skin was bruised violet. His eyes were a fleshy pink. Damian struggled beneath the iron grip of her slender fingers. 

“No —!” A sob broke through Raven’s chest. Her arms clung to her torso, attempting to hold pieces together that were ripped apart, oozing and seething. The pain was so clearly etched upon Damian’s face, like the immortal work of a renaissance artist. Perhaps it was so pungent because that’s how Raven remembered him last. Features twisted with torment. 

Weak voices called out to Raven amongst the rubble. She turned in a slow, agonizing circle, recognizing each small cry. The Titans were held at her emoticlones’ mercy. Jaime was dragging himself away from the nearest Raven, clutching at dirt and cement shards. The collar of Garfield’s uniform was clutched in one Raven’s grasp, pulling his lifeless form forward. Kory’s limp body was discarded on the ground.

Raven cringed as her insides tore. It was too vivid; it had to be real. How she hurt each individually, one by one.

Something crashed into the ground before Raven’s feet. She raised her arms against the stone fragments. Cracks formed on the pavement. Dust rose in a brown cloud.

Raven whisked the dirt specks away and gaped in horror at what landed before her. Conner. Her lifeline. An invincible force. He never wavered, not when struck by bullets, not when she ignored his flirtatious advances — not when he cared so much for her, and she offered so little in return. 

Conner was covered in wounds, unmoving. A shadow fell over them before Raven could attempt to heal him. She glared up at her smirking doppelgänger. The color of the clone’s gem was —

No. No more. Enough of this. 

Shadows whispered. They slithered forth at Raven’s command. Her fingers curled. Darkness twirled around them like a spider’s web. 

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore —

Darkness fluttered over every surface like feathers. Somewhere, someone was screaming. Power thrummed within Raven, all the way down to the bone marrow. 

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

Of ‘Never — nevermore.’

Chapter Text

— T H E   B A T C A V E —

“I was gone for five minutes.” Damian Wayne glared at Superman. The kryptonian raised a cool compress to his forehead and winced. 

“Where is she?” Damian demanded. Kent was one of the few conscious after…the confrontation. Damian repressed the memories as he stared a hole into Kent’s head. 

Kent sighed. His gaze went slack as if he were lost in thought. They were not alone in the Batcave. Murmurs echoed off the lofty stone ceiling. There was traffic in the med ward. Kent was the most efficient route to finding her; his X-ray vision could be put to use. 

Kent’s face angled to the northwest. He grimaced. “Ivy’s tending to her.” 

Damian’s eyes narrowed. Poison Ivy?

Pamela Isley was there during the fight. Damian regretted to admit that she was useful in…ending the conflict. But allowing a murderer near her? In an off-limits, anti-criminal zone, no less? 

“They’re good friends — hey, wait up!” 

Damian turned away without another word. Kent trailed after him, still clutching his ice pack. 

Damian pinpointed the direction in which Kent’s head was turned as he navigated the med ward. More than half of the rooms were filled. Grayson was in one of them. His brother was…incapacitated in the fight. Damian’s eyes strayed to one of the room’s glass windows, looking in. Koriand’r was still watching over Grayson, holding flowers in her lap as she sat by his bedside. 

Damian clenched his fists and quickened his pace. 

Kent rambled on beside him, “I contacted Lois to help us with the press. She’s flying back now and already has strategies prepared — turn left here.” 

The deeper they went, the less people lingered in the halls. The spasms of machinery and frantic voices died off. It was nearly empty and dead silent until the ruckus started.

“I want to see my kid —! Get out of the way unless you want to be chucked through a bloody hell portal, wankers!”

“Jesus, John…! Slow down!”

The pair was up ahead. Damian’s fists tightened. Constantine. 

Zatanna chased after him, her dark hair fluttering at her brisk pace like raven’s wings — Damian sharply looked away and focused on Constantine instead. Damian followed the crazed magician’s footsteps until he halted at a door at the end of the hall. 

Massive vines burst from the floor and crossed over the doorway into a long X. Poison Ivy crossed her arms behind them. Damian bit back a sneer. She was dressed in a white lab coat, red tresses pulled back. 

“Move. I want to see my kid.” Constantine glowered.

Kent gasped beside Damian. 

Poison Ivy’s slender eyebrow rose. “Oh? She’s your kid now?”

“My wh —!” Constantine’s eyes widened as if he hadn't registered the words that fell from his mouth. He shook it off, “Damn right she is.” 

“Well, I’m trying to save her ass. And it’s pretty damn hard to focus while a grown man is crying in the background.” Poison Ivy rolled her eyes. 

Damian ignored both of them and ducked inside. 

“HEY —!”

She was on the bed. Black curls spread across the pillow like black dye seeping onto a white canvas. It looked longer than Damian remembered. She was paler than usual; the red teardrop on her forehead stood out like a drop of blood on snow. She could’ve been an actress from one of father’s beloved black and white movies. Even at her worst, she’s still the most attractive person in the room. 

As Damian hovered over her, the scent of lavender lacing her skin drifted to the air. It was from a perfume set he had bought her last Christmas. It was barely detectable over the burn of antiseptics. 

For a moment, Damian allowed himself to simply stare, not indulging in thoughts. There was a euphoric rise in his chest at being this close to her. It crashed down instantly at the sight of her expression.

Raven’s eyes were closed, pain twisting her beautiful features. 

Damian had clutched the side of the bed without realizing it. His heart didn't feel right. It hadn't felt right for awhile, but this was worse. The throbbing was more intense than a fire alarm going off in his head. 

“Hey, hey — she’ll be okay. It’s not so bad, the chick looks half dead to begin with.” Harley Quinn’s too high-pitched voice was right next to Damian. 

Damian didn't take his eyes off Raven, but he noticed Quinn’s movements out of the corner of his eye. The clown also masqueraded in a lab coat. She traded her pig tails for a neat and formal bun. Damian didn't dare abandon the phenomenally better view before him, but he knew the hairstyle didn't suit Quinn. 

“You shouldn't be here.” Damian’s lip curled. 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t, but neither should you if you feel this bad. Your girlfriend’s an empath. If your emotions plummet, it’ll take a toll on her, too,” Quinn said quietly. 

Damian’s fingers were numb from his tight hold on the plastic edges lining the bed. My girlfriend. Is that what she sees —? Not that it matters. Quinn is psychotic.

“Who’s bright idea was it to have criminals nurse her back to health?”

“Ivy’s coming up with a cure. Scarecrow infected her once with a vegan blend. We managed to save her; we can find a way to save Raven, too.” Quinn assured Damian like a caring friend. It made him sick. 

Constantine broke his way into the room. Kent and Zatanna followed. The blond disaster paused at the foot of Raven’s bed. 

“We’re trying to keep people out of here. You’re making me claustrophobic, and the patient is an empath. By standing near her, you’re overwhelming her with your feelings.” Ivy glared as the others gathered around Raven’s bedside.

The Crazy Plant Lady huffed and turned towards the other side of the room. A holographic screen displayed chemical formulas. Lines of test tubes bubbled. Cyborg was beside her, running calculations. 

“How has progress been?” said Zatanna. Damian suppressed the tsk of his tongue as she added, “We appreciate what you’re doing.”

“Mr. Roboto’s been helping us monitor her vitals. The blood pressure and heart rate are off the charts.” Quinn’s scarlet lips pressed into a thin line. Like a wound. “I’m here for Ivy’s moral support and to help with the psychological aftermath.” 

Contingency plans already made themselves in Damian’s head. I could take Raven to the League of Shadows. The Batjet is downstairs, unoccupied. It would take three hours to arrive. That would be too long. Would an injection of the Lazarus Pit assist in the recovery —? Something to lower the adrenaline —

Zatanna stood across from Damian. She pressed her palm to Raven’s forehead. Her eyes flashed a bright blue for a moment. Then Zatanna sighed and stepped back. Damian knew secondhand from Raven that Zatanna was talented, but could her powers ease things? The frown on her face discouraged him. 

Constantine hadn't moved. His eyes also remained fixed on Raven’s face. He looked ten years older than when he stood in the hall. 

“It’s not your fault, John.” Zatanna said. 

A barely audible rasp escaped Constantine, “No one said it was.” 

“They didn't. I know you. You’ll try to rationalize this and blame it on yourself.” Zatanna studied Constantine’s face. A few seconds passed. Her hand smacked his face.

“Ow — bollocks! What did I do?” Constantine lurched back and rubbed his cheek.

“You were thinking! Stop it! You’ll drive yourself into an early grave.”

“You care that much, Zee?” Constantine’s hand pressed over his eyes. “Get me a drink. A strong one.” 

“No alcohol is allowed in the med ward.” Ivy shook her head in disdain at the overrated magician. 

Constantine snorted. “Bold of you to assume I meant the drinking kind.” 

“I admire your dedication to alcoholism,” said Quinn. 

“Thank you, love. You got any shot glasses ‘round here?”

Damian tuned Constantine out. He would never understand how Raven lived with that for nearly two years. Damian’s eyes drank in her face and the changes he saw there. Her eyes were swollen. Perhaps from sleepless nights, or crying, or both. Raven’s lips were dry and drained of color. They were usually a delicate lavender (her skin tone was too gray for the pale and unremarkable pinks of everyone else). 

Do you still think of that night…?

“I think we might have to do it,” Quinn said. 

Everyone’s eyes fell upon the clown. Damian’s eyes narrowed. “Do what?” 

Poison Ivy slumped against the wall and crossed her arms. “When I was infected with Fear Toxin, Harley traveled with a telepath into my head to sort out the mess and destroy my greatest fear. I have a feeling it won’t be a pleasure cruise around in her head, however…”

Damian looked back to Raven’s agonized expression. She was living a nightmare. By herself. Damian remembered her voice from the phone call, the panicked edge to it. Something within him snapped. 

“Why not?” Damian’s knuckles were white from his hold on the bed. “If it’s a more efficient way to end her pain, let’s do it.”

Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn exchanged uneasy glances. Zatanna cast her gaze onto the floor. Constantine cleared his throat, “I could take a few people in there and try to sort things out. But Trigon’s somewhere in there…and on top of that, I’m sure her mind on Fear Toxin is one dangerous acid trip.” 

“So?” Kent spoke up for the first time since he had entered the room. He took his ice pack and lightly balanced it on Raven’s forehead. “The people in this room are strong. We can take it. She’d do the same for us, wouldn’t she?”

“But this is different.” Quinn faced Kent. “Raven’s an empath. We all feel bad about her current state. If you’re upset over this, she’s going to suffer with you.”

The edges of Damian’s eyes prickled. Every face was downcast. The silence in the room was only interrupted by Poison Ivy’s grumble, “She’s suffering enough, don't you think?”

Victor Stone sighed, “There’s no way to win, is there? Damned if we do…”

“I say we do it.” Zatanna used her loud performance speech to address the room. Her blue-gray gaze sparkled with resolve. 

“We don't know what’s going on in there.” Zatanna gestured at Raven’s head. “What if we leave things alone, Raven’s mental state worsens, and Trigon breaks out? We’ll have to go in anyway to rouse Raven and fix things. If we act first, that might give us an advantage.” 

The sorceress’ words sank in. Some nodded along. Damian bowed his head towards her. Act first, assuming the worst. I can see why Raven respected her.

Poison Ivy’s eyes darted across the room. “If we’re serious about this, we need to know who’s going. And appoint someone to watch everyone while they’re unconscious.”

Stone raised his arm. Mechanical gears whirred as he did so. “I’ll watch over everyone. I can monitor all vitals at once and put out an emergency signal ASAP if things turn bad.” 

“I say we include Wonder Woman and Starfire,” said Kent. “They’re strong, too. If we run into something that we have to fight, we’ll need them.”

Damian glanced back at Raven. Could she take that many people in her head? In this state?

Poison Ivy spoke his thoughts, “We can't invite a bunch of people into her head. That’ll overwhelm her. Them and the people in this room. That’s it.”

“And Superboy,” said Damian.

Everyone looked at Damian with the most bizarre looks of confusion he had ever seen.

Conner was the first to brief Damian on everything that had transpired when he was gone. Project Cadmus, Trigon’s office in the Legion of Doom, what movies Raven watched recently, her new stuffed animals, new books she had read. Conner seemed very…up to date on Raven. Logically, his knowledge would be useful. 

Raven deserves an apology from him, too. Despite Conner’s careful watch over her, he let Scarecrow drug her. He will be held accountable.

Poison Ivy silently counted the number of people on her fingers. She inhaled sharply, “That’s nine people.”

“If it worked for The Lord of the Rings, it’ll work for us,” said Constantine darkly. “Let’s go get the rest of our ‘team.’ ”

Victor muttered softly into his coms. Conner was the first to arrive. Diana and Kory slipped into the room soon after. Everyone gathered in the center of the room. Damian remained at Raven’s side.

“Alright. Everyone hold hands and clench your butt cheeks together.” Constantine said.

“Huh?”

“Magic is weird, mate.” 

Damian reluctantly left Raven’s side. Kory and Conner took spots next to him. There was a cut above Conner’s eyebrow from earlier. 

“Are you okay?” Kory asked in a tone so low no one else around could hear. 

Damian didn't meet her eyes. “We should stay focused.”

Kory and Conner exchanged a look. Conner edged closer to him. “Look, man, I’m sorry about —”

“Don't apologize to me.” Damian allowed his gaze to slide over Conner. Damian knew from his family that it would hurt. Conner flinched at the intensity.

“You owe her more than an apology, in my opinion. But that’s up to her.” Damian said coolly.

Conner turned away and didn't speak to him again. 

Quinn squealed with manic delight. “I am so excited! I just know we’re gonna see some freaky shit! Oh this is gonna be so cool and terrifying! I LOVE it!”

Damian questioned once more why criminals and psychopaths were permitted entry into Raven’s mind. He glared ahead, silently swearing that he would pay for all of the therapy sessions Raven wanted when this was over. 

“Good luck to you guys. Don't worry about the physical plane. Billy and I got that covered,” Victor Stone stood off to the side with Billy Batson. Their presence calmed Damian just a bit. They were good-tempered and knew how to punch. Raven was in good hands. 

“Thank you, Victor,” Wonder Woman stood by Kent. Her face was determined, even with the bandages that covered her arms and neck.

“You want to do the honors, or should it be a group effort?” Constantine asked Zatanna.

“Hmm. I think we could use a little comradery,” Zatanna said.

Constantine smiled — or attempted to. “All together now.” 

“Azarath Metrion Zinthos!”

Chapter Text

Magic was weird. Even the fourth time around, Harley’s head spun. She tumbled down a pure black sky like a throat swallowing her whole. That was different. Usually a bright, Doctor Who wormhole sucked her down when she entered someone’s brain. The darkness, thick and pressing, was…concerning. Instinct urged her to run. 

Eventually Harley hit the ground. Hard. Air rushed out of her lungs and bright spots fizzled across her vision. Ouch. She rubbed her busted hiney as she eagerly glanced around for Ivy. 

Harley’s eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. They landed on Ivy’s shadow, groaning near her. Small buds sprouted from where she landed. Love of my life is okay. Time to enter the world’s creepiest amusement park. Yay!

Harley rose to her knees and swore. Her first glimpse into Raven’s mind did not disappoint. “Holy shit.” 

Harley had never seen a mind like this. It was an…abyss. An uninhabited and head empty (literally) void. There were streaks of violet and little dashes of glitter across the sky, rippling like sunlight on pool water. The chunk of rock that they landed on bobbed ever so slightly, weathering the nothingness. An uneven path hovered before them, dotted with white lilies and branches of bone. 

This emptiness doesn't sit right with me. Harley removed a pen from her pocket and pressed the tip to her lips. The mind is a reflection of the host: Raven may want to project emptiness like this, but I’d bet the last paycheck Arkham paid me that this is a HUGE facade. 

“No one’s here,” Starfire’s voice was delivered at a slightly higher octave. 

“Don't jinx us, love.” the Blond Cult Guy pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He paused, then cursed as he shoved them back into his coat. “Looks can be deceiving, especially in the mind. Can't you feel it? The draft on your skin. The hairs on your arms pointing out. Something’s not right here.”

“How perceptive,” said Raven. 

Everyone jumped. Harley’s gaze settled on her. It wasn't the rampaging Raven from hours before: this one looked quite tame. Harley studied every little detail of Raven tactfully. Raven appeared before the floating path of stone. She wore a black vest — a formal touch. Her choker was a black noose wound about her gray neck. Harley’s eyes narrowed at the yellow gem on her forehead.

Raven scowled at them.

“You should not have come here.” Raven’s eyes flickered across their faces, but lingered the most on Constantine. 

“The Comedian,” Robin muttered. Harley glanced back at him, but he didn't explain. Robin knew Raven best. It was best to follow his example in this realm.

“We’re here to help, Rachel —” Superman started. 

“I know that. And that's nice. But it's my mess. It’s too dangerous here for outsiders. I hardly have this emotion in check, the rest are still…wrong.” Raven shuddered ever so slightly. 

“This emotion…?” Zatanna said. 

“Raven’s emotions have physical forms called emoticlones. You can tell the difference from the gem color.” Robin explained. When he looked at Raven, he raised an accusatory eyebrow. “This is Wisdom, formerly known as The Comedian.” 

“Hold on!” Harley held up her pen. She was scribbling down notes. “Wisdom…emoticlones…got it. So, Ms. Comedian, why don't we help you track down your loose emotions and sort them out?”

The Comedian’s eyes left her face. “Some are more hostile than others.”

“We can take it,” said Superboy. 

“Don’t push your luck —” The Comedian’s eyes widened. She stilled. “Something’s coming!”

“What —?”

The eternal darkness rippled. The ground convulsed. Lilies grew fangs and snarled as the bone branches snapped against one another. 

An inhuman screech burned their ears. 

Harley clutched her head as the deafening sound rang out. Everyone around her did the same.

“What — is — that?” Wonder Woman shouted over the noise.

It ended abruptly. The world stilled. It might’ve been Harley’s imagination, but The Comedian’s skin looked more white than gray after the encounter. “Get out of here. Now. While you still can.”

“And leave you with that?” Ivy said. “Raven, just stop.”

Harley tensed. A Common Sense Speech was brewing on the horizon. Ivy was the most rational person she knew. But despite the reputation, the brain was anything but rational. 

“Tread carefully, sweetie.” Harley whispered. 

“You have no idea what kind of deep shit you’re in, Ray. It’s not pretty in the outside world right now,” said Ivy. 

“Ivy —” Superman warned.

Ivy ignored him. “Your body can't take this kind of stress. You just fought the Justice League, half of them are in the hospital —”

“Stop!” Robin shouted. 

It was too late. The tiny stars in the sky went out — no. They blinked. A thousand ever-watchful eyes judged them from the sky. Fog twisted around their ankles. It was only when Harley looked closer that she realized it was dust.

Cracks formed on the rocky platform that they stood on.

“Oh, bollocks —!” Constantine cursed as the ground crumbled beneath their feet. 

Robin and Superboy fell first, absorbed into the nothingness. Their screams faded quickly. Harley and Ivy plummeted after them.

Ivy stretched out her fingers towards Harley, emerald eyes determined and fierce —

Darkness passed them by as they freefalled. 

The ground was more metal like this time. Superman and Wonder Woman landed near them in perfect superhero poses that probably killed their knees. Harley rolled her eyes at their perfect silhouettes. “Goody two shoes.”

Superman offered Harley a hand. She waved him off. Harley and Ivy stood as one, fingers intertwined.

Ivy made a face at their dim surroundings, “This isn't creepy at all.” 

Harley heard of Titans Tower. She assumed it didn't normally look like this (unless teenagers were worse slobs than she realized). The long hallway flickered before their eyes from swaying fluorescents. They spat sparks every now and then. Each door along the corridor was closed. 

“Hmm, I wonder which part of the mind we’re in,” Harley lightly nibbled on the tip of her pen as she studied the hallway during the brief seconds of illumination. 

Wonder Woman looked over at Harley. “You seem to know a great deal about all of this.”

Harley shrugged. “It’s not my first rodeo. And I’m a certified psychiatrist. But every mind is different…”

They started to wander down the never ending hallway. The lights continued to flicker every few seconds. Harley eyed the doorways they passed in those precious seconds. If the goal was to clean up Raven’s mind, they would have to implement a more…hands-on approach. 

“Hon, now’s not the greatest time to snoop around in someone’s head,” said Ivy.

“I know.” Harley squeezed her hand. “But it would be nice to know where we are. Find out what’s inside.”

“It's the hall of memories.” A voice answered.

The party tensed. The Comedian’s face flashed before them as the lights flickered. 

Harley glanced back at the closed door, wondering what memory was locked away. “Interesting. In my mind, memories were up on display like a museum. In yours, they’re hidden.”

The Comedian bowed her head. Her fingers were latched together. “That’s by design. Memories trigger emotions. It’s better to keep them under the surface.”

It’s encouraging toxic numbness is what it is. Thank God this chick meditates. Harley sidestepped and threw the nearest door wide open.

Superman gasped. “Harley! That’s invading Raven’s privacy!”

“Not if we’re looking for something that’s not supposed to be here. We’re here to fix things, remember?” Harley wore her best poker face, serious and clinical. Dr. Quinzel was talking. 

A memory played on the other side of the door. Raven teetered on a motorcycle. A dark-haired boy stood before her, balancing the bike by the handles. Harley immediately recognized the chiseled features of Gotham royalty. 

Jason Todd.

“You sure your dad isn’t gonna use me as a blood sacrifice or something for this —?” Jason said.

Raven cut him off. There was a slight crumple to her eyebrow, the only indicator that something he’d said irritated her. “He’s not my father.”

Jason held up his hands. “Who am I to judge daddy issues? Release the clutch when you’re ready.”

Raven leaned forward. Something flickered across Jason’s face. His grip hardened on the handlebars when he should’ve let go. “Also, please don't die. Both of my brothers will bitch about it.”

“Okay.” 

Harley couldn't take her eyes off the pair on the empty dirt road. There was context missing, Harley could feel it. The word brothers invoked feeling within her. Jason’s brothers must’ve meant something to Raven.

The Comedian stood next to Harley. “I get that you’re trying to help, but don't forget how intrusive and dangerous this is.” 

Harley turned to her. “Why do you think memories are dangerous? They’re what make us who we are.” 

Raven didn't answer. It occurred to Harley that she might’ve answered her own question. 

Another door creaked open. Superman glanced inside. 

“AAAAAAAAaaaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHHHHhhhhhHHHH —!”

Superman staggered away from the doorframe. His body shook. The strongest man alive twitched on the floor like an insect facing death.

Wonder Woman knelt before him. “Superman? Supes —!”

The Comedian slammed the door shut behind him, the vile memory unseen and unknown. She pressed her weight against the door. 

Harley joined Wonder Woman at Superman’s side. His breaths came short. A hysterical laugh tainted the end of it. 

“He’s going into hysterics. He’s going insane!” All warmth left Harley’s body. I would know. 

Harley held his hand. She squeezed it every five seconds. “Focus on me. Count five things you see. Tell me about them.”

It wasn't working. Superman’s chest rose and fell at a startling pace. 

“Here, let me,” Wonder Woman slipped her lasso around him. The band glowed in the flickering darkness. Wonder Woman whispered words in an ancient language Harley couldn't understand. 

Superman coughed and his chest heaved. Eventually, the croak of each breath died off. 

Harley nodded, satisfied. He would be fine.

Ivy helped Harley up, “Good job, Peanut.”

“Thanks, Cake-Pop.”

They shared a brief, sweet smile. 

The Comedian finally sealed the door. She looked down at Superman. “I suggest using caution when prodding around my head. There are many things in here that can drive the mundane mind mad.” 

Harley didn't doubt it. She looked at everyone, “What if I open the doors from now on? My mind’s already snapped. Can’t break what’s already broken.”

“I will assist you.” Wonder Woman straightened. “The Amazons train their minds as well as their bodies.” 

The five moved forward. Harley and Wonder Woman took turns peering into memories, searching for anything kooky. It was hard to know what they were looking for, exactly. Another Raven? A glitching memory? Harley kept her eyes peeled. 

There were a variety of different memories. Harley couldn't discern any specific category to them. A decent amount were of Raven visiting some butler. It seemed like a routine, like she did it every single day. Raven would knock on the door. They’d exchange greetings and small talk. Eventually the butler would say, He’s not in. He’d offered her tea. At first Raven declined, but later memories showed the two sitting together, looking out at a massive garden. 

I wonder who she was looking for…she must’ve cared about him a lot.  

Other memories weren't so...mundane. Harley opened another door. It was Raven looking into the bathroom mirror at night, studying herself. Something lurked behind her — something faceless. Harley’s skin crawled as she stared. Raven’s eyes studied the anomaly in the mirror, too, but didn't dare turn around. When her eyes darted back to her reflection, she disappeared.

Harley blinked as she closed the door. She wasn't sure what was real — and it seemed like even Raven wasn't in the know. One thing was for sure: parts of Raven were buried here. The faceless horror in the mirror haunted Harley. 

How much of yourself have you forsaken over the years to keep your abilities in check?

Harley glanced over at The Comedian every time she discovered a memory. The Comedian never showed a glimpse of emotion. 

Something doesn't feel right about this one…

“I should speak to Raven about this staircase business — BY HERA!” Wonder Woman stepped away from a memory. A military base was settled on a bleak, dead landscape. The back of Harley’s mind prickled with recognition. Rusted gray and desolate, similar to —

Stryker’s Island.

“That's it! The Flashpoint!” Superman’s look of relief clashed with the apocalyptic lifelessness of the memory. He continued eagerly, “See, Diana? It’s real! This is what we should —”

“Clark, I know.” 

Superman stiffened. Excitement slowly faded from his face. “What?”

“So…what’s the Flashpoint?” Harley said. She was hesitant to interrupt. The conversation had a weight to it, like they were discussing something classified. 

Wonder Woman held up a hand to Harley. “I’ll explain in a minute. That’s why you insisted I come along, wasn’t it? To convince me it was real.” 

“If you already knew, why hide it?” Superman said. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. “Batman got to you, didn't he? About keeping it quiet —”

“With good cause!” Wonder Woman pressed fingers to her temples. “Clark, have you ever considered that there’s a reason Batman wanted to keep the Flashpoint secret? To not let word get out of what happened?” 

Superman didn't speak a word. Curiosity burned in his eyes. 

Harley took a subconscious step forward. The topic at hand drew her in. The back of her skull itched as if she were trying to remember something important, something she had forgotten. 

Wonder Woman sighed. “We’re being watched, Clark.”

Chapter Text

John Constantine caught Zatanna’s arm as they fell. Her stormy gaze met his. Shadows caressed her cheek, consuming her porcelain skin.

Their bodies were pulled into the darkness. 

Constantine murmured a power word. Their descent slowed. They were floating downward, the air but a light breeze that tousled his hair. 

The heels of Zatanna’s boots hit the ground with a soft clack. 

“Quick thinking,” Zatanna said. 

Constantine’s hand dropped from her arm. “It’s what I do best, love.” 

Starfire landed next to them. Raven’s little alien bestie. What every half-demon teenage girl should have. Green light burned in her palms. The redhead raised her arm. Her powers glazed over every surface. “Where are we?” 

The long corridor was made of the same wood as the House of Mystery. A familiar floral smell tinged the air (Orchid, the House’s physical form, had a hobby of assorting flower arrangements). Constantine’s eyes narrowed at the portraits on the wall: the faces were scratched out. Chains were wrapped around the doorknobs.

“No bloody clue. Looks like the House, though,” John said.

“Is that good or bad?” Zee whispered. 

“Both.”

Constantine waded into the cavern of dreams. The floorboards groaned as they walked. Each surface was washed in green from Starfire’s light beam. Bookshelves and baubles cast long shadows. 

“There are chains on the doors,” Zee said. She stopped at the nearest door and examined it. Constantine peered over her shoulder.

His fingers curled around the doorknob. It shook and twisted from whatever was on the other side. They exchanged a look. 

“Are you sure that it’s wise to investigate?” Starfire held the light aloft. She kept a generous amount of space between them. 

Constantine shrugged. “Eh. Wouldn't be the first time, love.”

John cracked the door open. He mentally prepared himself for whatever might show its face. It's her head. I’ve heard her wake up from nightmares screaming. I didn't expect a light job—although ‘job’ isn't exactly what I’d call this…

They peeked inside.

A wall of pure black was on the other side. Four flames crackled to life. Eyes. They zoomed towards the opening.  

“You will BURN!”

Constantine slammed the door shut. He threw his weight against it as howls ripped from the other side. The doorframe blackened—from flames or feeding darkness, he didn't bloody know. 

Zatanna shook her head at him. “You had to look, didn't you?” 

“Whatever.” Constantine plucked a ciggy from his pocket. He hesitated when he raised a lighter to his lips. Damned habit. It’s probably not good to smoke in someone’s head. She’d chew me out for it later.

John sighed and clicked his lighter shut. He kept the ciggy tucked between his lips. As soon as he heard of her tantrum in Gotham, he knew there would be a mess to clean. It was…heavier than his usual work. John’s steps were lighter. For once, he minded his words. This was Raven’s head, and every little thing he did mattered. 

“I’d bet that we’re in her worst memories and imaginings.” Constantine said. The chains on the doors rattled in the silence. “Probably the worst place we could’ve landed. Lovely.”

Their little stroll continued. Starfire curled her arms across her chest, “Is it possible that…where her father is held…”

“Is somewhere in here? Yup. Most likely. That would be a nasty destination, falling into Daddy’s ol’ pen. Hope the others don't run into it.” Constantine said. 

Starfire shivered. John winced at his own words. Not everyone was familiar with the horrors of the mind. Raven’s Titan friends — her family — knew nothing of the dark arts. 

Constantine hunched his shoulders. It wouldn't help Raven to scare them. 

The corridor parted. Two paths lay before them. Constantine glanced down each hall. He licked his lips, testing the draft from each side. One had a faint hint of salt. 

Constantine nodded to himself. They started down the hallway tinged with salt. Salt would be useful in containing a demon…hopefully it wasn't already in use. 

They heard the waves thrashing soon after.

 White foam stained the floorboards. The wallpaper was wet and torn. Eventually the hallway ended sharply at the chasm.

Constantine gaped at the chaotic scene before them. His unlit ciggy fell from his mouth.

“That's going to give me nightmares.” Zee shuddered. 

Starfire glanced at Constantine. “That's…you.” 

A maelstrom frothed before their eyes. The sea churned for miles. The hypnotic rotation of the massive waves, the way they roared like a rabid beast. The bruised sky above their heads groaned in misery. 

John couldn't move. Of all the crazy shit I’ve seen.

At the very center of the maelstrom, a point far below the surface, was land. Constantine squinted to make out the details. When he did, his breath stopped. 

A statue of John Constantine was at the very bottom. The marble was tall and full of cracks. The waves swirled around this one singular point, threatening to collapse and tear stone to pieces. 

“There!” Starfire pointed below the statue. One of the Ravens was desperately trying to conceal the statue with her striped black and blue cardigan. Constantine swallowed. 

Something brushed against John’s fingers. He glanced down. Zee’s fingertips brushed against his. 

She didn't look at him. She was staring straight ahead, eyes wide, at the massive whirlpool. Her stormy gaze matched the deep gray-blue of the anomaly. 

John turned his palm over. Her hand wrapped around his. John resisted the urge to entwine their fingers — an old habit, and nothing more. 

She’s just scared. That's all.

“How do we get down there?” Zee’s whisper was nearly drowned out by the hissing ocean. “I can fly, but in this weather…”

“Teleport?” said Constantine. 

Zatanna bit her lip. “I don't want to use a bunch of magic in Raven’s head unless it's necessary…”

“I could transport us down," said Starfire. "These skies are nothing compared to the dust storms on Tamarran. Would you like…a lift?” 

Constantine glanced once more at the shrieking whirlpool below them. He gulped. Then he looked back at the redhead. 

John dreaded the idea of flying over that. His gaze crept to Raven at the center of it all. I can't leave her like this.

“...Yes, please.” Constantine’s eyes widened as the alien plucked him from the ground, bridal style. “OI! You could at least carry me with some dignity!”

Constantine expected Zee to laugh. Instead, she took another step away from the giant drop. “You two go first. I’ll be right behind you…promise.” 

Starfire shot out from the broken hallway. John stared at Zee, a tiny dot before the massive waves. Her eyes were glowing blue.

John shut his eyes as soon as he felt Starfire’s descent. When they landed, everything was darker from the massive loom of the ocean. 

Raven sat on the edge of the statue’s pedestal. She wore a sunken expression. 

Starfire set Constantine down and barreled toward her. She kneeled at Raven’s feet. “Raven? Are you all right?”

Her head remained bowed, unmoving. The gem on her forehead was gray. Jackpot. Another ‘emoticlone.’

“What would make you feel better?” Starfire said. “Let’s talk about this —”

“I can't.” Raven’s voice cracked. Her hair veiled her face.

“Why not?”

“I just can't, okay!” When Raven spoke, lightning spasmed across the sky. The sea wall inched closer to them. 

Then the impossible happened.

Raven burst into tears.

Everyone gaped at her. His heart sank at the soft sobs that only so few in the universe had ever heard. It was the loneliest, most heart-breaking sound John had ever heard. 

Starfire’s eyes reddened. She looked ready to cry with her. “I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry!”

Starfire reached out as if to hug her, then stopped herself. Constantine placed a hand on the redhead’s shoulder. “Why don't you give us a moment, love?” 

Raven’s cries racked her shoulders. Constantine winced at the sound. He asked in a low rasp, “Have you ever seen Rachel cry before?”

Starfire shook her head. Tears were already pooling in her emerald orbs. 

“That’s what I thought. Let me handle this, please.”

She hovered in the air, wiping at her red rims. She turned and flew back to Zee.

John took a deep breath. If he screwed up, there would be hell to pay. He murmured a prayer and approached the crying teenager. 

The sleeves of Raven’s cardigan were darkened by her tears. John Constantine would be heartless if he didn't admit her small sniffles didn't make little knots in his chest twist in pain. 

John slipped off his coat and slowly lowered it onto Raven’s shoulders. Hopefully it would shield her from some of the ocean drops that splattered every so often. 

“May I sit with you?” John said.

He didn't hear a refusal. Raven didn't move. 

John sat down next to her, pushing a breath through his teeth.

John had only witnessed Raven cry once. It had been a few weeks after they met. When she cried, the House of Mystery flooded (the damned House was so attached to her). John had no choice but to confront her then. When he glanced at the waves roaring above their heads, he feared that her mind would literally drown them in her sorrows. 

“Some interesting decor you got here, love.” John mumbled, hoping to break the ice. It didn't. Another sob broke from her throat. 

“I’m assuming that this is one of your emoticlones, with the gray and all. Sadness? Timid? Feelin’ blue?”

Still no answer. It was time to bring out the big guns. “I know what’ll cheer you up. How about your favorite: karaoke? You love my singing, don't you?”

Raven’s fingers separated. She snuck glances at him with red glossy eyes.

John cleared his throat. 

“I saw the sign, and it opened up my eyes,

I saw the sign,

Life is demanding without understanding,” John made his voice extra cringy at that part, imitating an American, blonde girl at Starbucks. 

“I saw the sign, and it opened up my eyes,

I saw the sign.”

John waited a breath, collecting himself before another verse. The waves were quieting. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Starfire maneuvered across the whirlpool’s edge with Zatanna. Ice crackled in their wake. 

“The first thing I ever hated about you was how great a singer you are.” Raven croaked. 

John smiled. “There she is. That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.” 

Timid Raven’s lip curled up just the slightest for a split second. It settled back into its permanent frown. “The statue…it’s dumb. Ignore it, please.” 

“You did a splendid job with my hair, though, I must say,” Constantine glanced at his chiseled features. His hair was splayed up like the wind was gently tossing it.

The brain loves metaphors. She literally put me on a pedestal. That’s a first…she does care.

Raven shook her head. Her cheeks glittered with tear tracks. “I mean nothing to you, remember?”

A plume of dust erupted from the statue. Another small crack appeared. The waves thrashed violently, taking another foot of land. Water splashed Constantine’s foot. 

John didn't even notice. His eyes were wide as he stared at the girl. “I wouldn't say that.”

“You did. The night we met.” Raven continued to stare forward, not meeting his gaze. “It has to be this way. Anyone who means anything to you is…gone. Another nightmare to keep you up at night.”

John said nothing. She was talking about that bit. The part where everyone in John Constantine’s life that had meaning somehow became a corpse or his worst enemy. Raven knew him well. 

“It’s incredibly selfish of me to even think that…” Raven squeezed her eyes shut. She shook her head. “It doesn't matter. It’s better off if we mean nothing to each other. That way…you’ll never wake up screaming in the middle of the night because of me.” 

Raven was more selfless than John gave her credit for, certainly more caring than he deserved. John bit his lip.

I’m a good-for-nothing that’s been letting people down since Newcastle. John flinched even thinking of the name. But her…I could never fail her. 

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” John said. That’s the easiest way for us to live. To mean absolutely nothing to each other. Because if you didn’t…I could lose you.

The next moment shocked Constantine.

Raven wrapped her arms around John. She hugged him tight. Her faint whisper was slightly muffled by the fabric of his shirt, but he couldn't mistake it. 

John curled his arms around her and murmured it back.

Raven vanished beneath John’s touch. Her form dissolved into a thousand white lights. They fluttered up, high above the statue of uncracked alabaster, like dandelions dancing on the wind. 

Constantine noticed Starfire and Zatanna standing off to the side, sniffling together. The whirlpool was completely frozen around them, a beautiful winding ice sculpture. Sunlight broke through the clouds and shimmered across the surface.

Zee and Starfire rushed to him, cutting off Constantine’s circulation with a combined bear hug. 

“You did such a good job!” Zee cried into his shoulder.

“You did it…you knew how to comfort her…you knew exactly what to do!” Starfires sobs rose above Zatanna’s. “The Titans could never do that…!”

Constantine sighed as the grown women clung to him, crying. Bloody emotional, the lot of them. They’re almost as bad as Nanaue during a rom com. 

“That's not true!” Zee said. “Raven loves the Titans! She left John all alone by himself to be with you!”

A sour expression formed on Constantine’s face. “Thanks for the reminder, love.” 

“But this happened right when she returned to us,” Starfire was gaining control of the sniffles. They broke away from Constantine, and he was finally able to intake oxygen once more. 

“We love Raven. I consider her my best friend…but are we really helpful with all of this?” said Starfire. 

John and Zatanna exchanged a look. 

Starfire blinked back tears, “Are the Titans really the best fit for Raven?”

Chapter Text

Conner grabbed Damian’s arm as they fell. Damian didn't fight him off. It wasn't like Kon expected him to, but he still felt relief.

Conner resisted the unrelenting pull of gravity as they plummeted downwards. 

The ground creaked beneath them. Conner’s knees burned from the impact. He bit back a hiss. 

They stood together for a moment in the darkness, uninterrupted by silence. Damian pulled his arm from Conner’s grasp. 

Pit-pat.

Kon’s eyes narrowed. 

Pit-pat pit-pat pit-pat —

“What is that sound?” He focused on the layers of black that surrounded them. 

“I can't hear anything.” Damian said. 

The darkness receded from the dim room. Walls lined with bookshelves rose to meet a domed ceiling charted with astral constellations. The sound Conner heard before was rain tapping on the long-paned windows. It harmonized with a serenading song that whispered from a vinyl record. 

It was like an ambiance video of a fancy gothic library. Very Raven-esque. Kon bit back a smile. 

“It’s the House of Mystery,” said Damian as he looked around. “Constantine’s residence.” 

“So what’s it mean? What’s this place supposed to be…?” Conner wondered. Certain details drew him in. The rain, the books, a teapot softly steaming in the corner. Conner could smell the lavender mint from where he stood. 

Conner and Damian shared a look. The answer was obvious. “Raven’s happy place.” 

They explored the spacious, never-ending library. Tapestries and fairy lights weaved themselves above their heads, intertwining the shelves. It was definitely a chill vibe. Maybe they could lure an emoticlone to them with a cup of tea and Tallyhall?

“—TT—” Damian hissed under his breath.

Conner followed his gaze. Damian inspected the spines of the books. His gloved hand traced the gold letters. 

“Dude, what is it?” 

“It’s her memories,” he said quietly. 

Conner’s jaw dropped. He turned to the nearest shelf. Sure enough, the titles were not at all book-like. First Birthday at Titans Tower, Fish and Chips with John, In the Kitchen with Conner—

The world stopped when Conner read his name. He pulled out the book by instinct. A gasp escaped his mouth. 

The words he expected to be sprawled across the page were gone. A drawing sketched itself across the parchment in its place, color blossoming between the lines. Conner remembered this moment. He had walked in on Raven scaling the cabinets for Nutella. She made snacks for both of them and they watched his soon-to-be favorite movie, Career Opportunities. Kon bit down as he visualized the smile made out of pretzel sticks staring up at him. It was one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for him. 

The book snapped shut. Damian’s face now occupied the empty space. “It’s rude to snoop through her memories.” 

Conner bit back a snarky remark. Damian was still using that tone. Conner knew he deserved it. It’s my fault we’re all here in the first place. I didn't protect her from the Fear Toxin…I should have done more. I —

A memory from months ago flashed across his mind. The day of Damian’s departure. The promise he held Conner to. 

‘Keep Raven safe if it costs you your life. Support her. Be her friend. She needs one.’

Conner had done as Damian asked, mostly because he wanted to instead of some promise. Raven was easy to be around. To say he liked her was an understatement. 

With super senses, everyone was loud, obnoxious, simple. Raven wasn't. She was quiet. It took a careful eye and an ear for heartbeats to figure her out. Like a puzzle. Her eyebrow furrowed when she was mad, her stare was cold and distant when she was sad…

Conner returned the closed memory to its rightful place. “Half of them are probably of me, anyway…”

I wish they were.

Damian looked away a little too fast. Conner’s eyes watched him as his ever-rigid posture became even more still as he strode forward. Kon’s theory was right on, maybe more than he thought…

“We should search for Raven’s emoticlones. She said they were in distress. It’s our top priority to save them.” Damian said. 

Kon nodded. “Right on.” 

Damian led the way through the ever-winding labyrinth of books. Kon couldn't resist glancing over at the titles of memories as he followed. It was hard to imagine having years worth of memories. Conner only had a few months worth. Admittedly, most of his were probably of Raven. 

Cooking with Damian, Painting with Damian, Getting Matched Stuffed Animals with Damian —

“You’re pretty popular in here,” said Kon. 

Damian’s shoulders hunched ever so slightly. He didn't acknowledge the comment. “If this is Raven’s happy place, it’s most likely that we’ll find the impersonation of her happiness nearby…”

“She’s cute when she smiles.”

I wish all of those smiles were for me.

Damian shot him a hard glare. “If you could not treat Raven and every other female like a piece of meat —”

“Chillax, man. If we freak out, she freaks out.” Kon reminded him. 

Conner hoped the hole of guilt in his chest was pushed down far enough to where Raven couldn't feel it. She was already suffering enough because of him. The best way to repress emotions were distractions. 

“Raven’s not a piece of meat…she’s more like a dessert.” Conner said in a thoughtful tone. “Maybe tiramisu, with all the layers? Something chocolate-y —?”

Conner’s eyes fell upon another memory label. He stopped in his tracks. 

“Red velvet seems more accurate,” Damian admitted. He paused when he didn't hear Conner’s footsteps behind him. Damian turned, “We don't have time to —”

“What’s this?” Conner stabbed a finger at the memory.

“I already told you, Raven’s memories are private. It’s none of our business.” 

Conner didn't move. The words made black spots splutter across his vision. Someone had punched him in the chest, ripping out his insides.

“Conner —”

“You kissed her?” 

Conner finally tore his gaze from the memory. First Kiss with Damian.

For the first time since they’d left the room with Raven’s unconscious body behind, a glitch of emotion ripped across Damian’s stoic features. 

Damian said nothing. That answered everything. Conner nodded. His jaw was stiff. “Called it. You’re hot for her. Well, you’ll be happy to know that the feeling is mutual. She’s pretty crazy about you, too.” 

The memory of Raven walking on air with him, holding his hands —

Conner shoved his hands into his pockets. At the time, he did it because he thought she’d like it. It would make her happy. She deserved to be happy. 

All she did was talk about him.

“How nice of you. Promising your best friend to watch your girlfriend for you when you leave,” Against rationality, Conner let the sarcasm sink in. "Why did you leave her in the first place? Time apart makes the heart grow fonder, I guess.” 

Damian’s jaw unclenched when he spoke, “Batman needed my expertise for a recon mission —”

“The real reason!”

Damian’s eyes met his. They were the faded green of a wilting plant, sick with rot. “I was giving her an out. Emotions are difficult for her. I wanted her to make a decision without my feelings getting in the way of what she wanted. If she regretted it…”

Damian’s face was tight with pain. He shook his head. “I thought of her every day…you have no idea what a relief it was, to know someone as…kind as you was there for her. I’m grateful that you supported her. That is not a lie.”

To meet Damian’s gaze was a burning blaze. Yet it dimmed, and there was an agony that they each recognized there.

“But you failed her in the end.” said Damian. His fists tightened. 

“Yeah.” Conner laughed, but he winced at the sound. “That’s nothing compared to when you left, abandoning her. You failed her.”

A trickle of dust from the ceiling fell between them. Conner was suddenly aware of the changes in their surroundings. Books had been ripped off the shelves during their argument. Cracks stretched across the glass like spider webs. Tear droplets slipped through. 

Conner sighed. “And now we’re the awful losers putting her through this.” 

Damian turned his back on Conner to pick up a book nearby. He spared one last look at him, “I cannot say what she feels…but I care about her. Deeply.”

Conner didn't look away. “So do I.” 

The bookshelves along the wall creaked. Probably from the stress of their argument The spines shuddered.

The shelves parted. A hand snatched Damian’s arm.

“Dude —!”

Damian yelled as he was pulled into the wall. It closed shut. 

Conner pounded on the shelves. Books went flying. Some of the memories lay face up, dialogue murmuring. 

“Damian —! Dammit! Give him back —!”

“He’s in good hands…I think.” 

Conner spun. Raven was leaning on the bookshelf right next to him. She was smiling. The expression always threw him off guard. 

Woah…pretty…wait —

“Uh,” Conner’s eyes flew to the gem on Raven’s forehead. It was pink. “You’re…Happy, right?” 

“I’m always happy to see you,” Raven beamed. She wore a black shirt with the caption, BLACK IS MY HAPPY COLOR. Her toes wriggled in purple fluffy socks. 

Silence stretched between them. To see her right after Damian…knowing they kissed —

It was awkward. 

Conner averted his eyes. He suddenly found his shoes very interesting. Raven leaned down to keep his gaze. “Just so you know…I knew about it already.”

“Knew what?” 

“That you had feelings for me,” she said. 

Conner hated the heat that rushed to his face. Raven didn't seem the least bit phased. “I’m an empath. That’s kind of something hard to hide…but I do have more trouble with what people feel towards me. Sometimes my feelings towards them mix and it gets…complicated.” 

Conner nodded along. He missed some of her words in the haze of embarrassment. He swallowed, “And…how do you feel about me?” 

Raven shrugged. “You make me happy.”

“And?” Conner finally worked up the guts to look her in the eye. The pale violet always astonished him. “You can't just feel only that for me.”

“Why not?”

“Look at us! We spent time together! You held my hand! That couldn't mean nothing to you.” Conner suddenly wished he was in the presence of a different emoticlone. Passion or love, maybe. There would be way less beating around the bush.

Kon took a step closer. His hands were on her shoulders. “It would be so easy for us, Ray. You can't hurt me: I’m a lot less breakable than the others —”

“Physically, you mean.” 

Conner nodded. Raven’s smile dipped at the corners. “That’s not…the only threat, Kon. What about mentally? Emotionally? Look at where we are, Conner. I don't know if you’ve figured it out yet, but I have baggage.” 

Thunder rumbled outside. The tear droplets that fell from the cracked windows dripped into a small puddle on the floor. 

“You’re right, Conner. You’re strong. You make me smile. You make me happy…but I don't know if I can offer you the same thing. Not all the time. I’m not a walk through daisies, I’m…so much more than that.” Raven’s smile returned, but it was a sad smile. One that crumpled Conner’s heart. “I’m not like this all the time. Happy.” 

Kon’s clasped her shoulders tighter. “What if I could take it?” 

“Kon —”

“You’re right. Nobody’s happy all the time.” Conner’s voice was hoarse. “But I wanna try. I want to make you smile every day. I want to make you happy. And I could do so much more, be so much more for you, Ray —”

Raven started to dissipate into small, white flecks. Conner’s eyes widened in alarm as the matter of her shoulders gave way. Her smile lingered. “Let’s just stick with being happy for now.” 

Her form dissolved into a thousand white lights that fluttered up, stars flocking to a night sky.

Chapter Text

The aroma hit Damian like a wall. It was sickly sweet. Layers of syrupy scents burning his nostrils. 

Is this where air fresheners come from?

Damian’s breath stopped short as lips pressed against his mouth. 

Startled couldn't begin to describe his reaction. He hadn't felt this sensation in months. Yet he knew, even without peeking through his eyelashes. 

It was her. Damian remembered the exact softness of her lips, the lavender that filled his nostrils, the cool, slender fingers that twisted in his hair at the base of his neck. Damian already pulled her close — by instinct. 

An unavoidable irritation entered Damian’s mind which was clouding over, consumed with every detail of her. Rationality lurked at the very periphery of his consciousness.

It took all of Damian’s willpower, years of discipline and restraint, to unhook the arms locked around his neck and pull away. 

She looked like his Raven. The blush on her cheeks matched the subtle violet of her lips. If Damian focused hard enough, he could picture her face from that night; rain sliding down her skin, kissed by violet-pink neon lights. Her crimson gem glinting —

A violet gem was settled on this Raven’s forehead.

Damian recalled the explanation he overheard of the emoticlones, some lifetime ago. ‘For every emotion, there’s an emoticlone: Joy, Passion — more like lust, really — Love, Fear, Rage.’

Passion — more like lust, really.

Raven’s eyes, precious amethysts that matched the gemstone, glanced at Damian’s lips. They flickered up to his gaze. 

“Hi,” she said. 

Damian’s hands tightened around her wrists. “Are we going to do this every time we see each other?”

“Are you opposed?” 

His head cocked to the side. “If this is what you want — all of you.” 

Damian approached everything this Raven did with suspicion. It wasn't a complete version of his Raven. The embodiment of Raven’s desire could’ve jumped anyone.

There was a new razor edge to Raven’s gaze, as if Damian’s doubt was clear on his face. “I brought you here for a reason. Only you.”

Damian looked around for the first time. They were in a candy shop. The checkered pattern of red and black on the floor was as dizzying as the smell. Neon signs shaped like lollipops buzzed over their heads. When Damian shifted, licorice and candy sticks brushed against his shoulder like indoor plants. 

“What is this place?” 

“The panic room,” Raven said. 

“—TT—” Damian wasn't the least bit surprised. 

Raven still hadn't moved. Her body was pressed against his, arms latched in his grasp. A fraction of her eyebrows scrunched together. “I owe you an apology…”

Damian’s grip on her wrists loosened. “For what?”

“For last time.” Raven bit her lip. “When I kissed you.” 

Damian held his breath, reinforcing his stoic expression. Would she apologize for the kiss? He wasn't certain that he could control his emotions from affecting her. 

Damian felt Raven’s deep inhale against his chest. “I shouldn't have said what I did. I didn't do it because I was scared or stressed. Even with the emoticlones and stopping time —”

“What?” 

Raven ignored his rigid reaction. “Remember the Flashpoint…?”

Damian bowed his head. He answered, but he wouldn't forget her comment, “You pursued it because of Kent. That’s why he approached you at Constantine’s.”

“Yes. But that's not what I meant.” Raven’s gaze dropped to their hands briefly. “Can I…show you? It’s about time you were brought up to speed, anyway. The readers already know everything.” 

Damian didn't grasp much of what she said, but nodded anyway.

Raven took his hand and led him through the glass labyrinth of candy. That…feels nice. Damian glanced down at their hands, feeling her gentle pull. He wished his gloves were off to feel the cool clasp of her fingers. 

Raven plucked a piece or two (or five) from the shelves as they passed. Damian resisted a smirk and failed. She squeezed his hand tighter as they stopped before a wall of clouds. 

Every shade imaginable of cotton candy was positioned on the wall. Sultry violets and pinks and blue spun from twilight skies, wire-like golds and ebony blacks. Raven scanned the stall, long eyelashes fluttering. She pulled a stick of pink cotton candy from the wall and presented it to Damian. “Eat this.”

“Shouldn't I eat a small cake that reads ‘Eat Me’?”

Raven smiled. “My head, my rules.” 

Damian shot her a knowing look. He held the stick of pure sugar between them. Raven shyly tore off a piece and plopped it in her mouth. Damian did the same. 

We’re going to take down Darkseid. Here’s how we do it.

I want you to see what this war has cost my family.

You dare call me that.

You’re getting worse — !

Great pep talk.

I had feelings for you.

Somewhere, Damian heard Raven’s actual voice, soft and soothing. “It’s a lot to take in.” 

Damian’s head churned. He felt his legs moving but couldn't see ahead. The Flashpoint continued to sear his vision.

Rob from the rich and sell to the poor!

KING SHARK IS A SHARK!

Your mother drugged me to conceive you.

Don't make this overly emotional, Father.

Damian felt Raven’s cool touch guide him somewhere to sit. He pressed against his throbbing temples. The memories didn't just play out in his brain; his muscles remembered them, contorting at every blow, spasming at phantom pains. 

Raven traced random patterns along Damian’s back as he breathed in and out. Her touch was calming — more than usual. Was it her empathic abilities? Or just her?

There was too much to take in. an entire lifetime’s worth. Desolate wastelands that used to harbor life flashed before Damian’s eyes. Beads of sweat formed from the heat of Apokolips. A hand went to Damian’s leg, remembering Father’s apathetic expression as he plunged the kryptonian sword into his flesh.

I died.

“Our first kiss, that’s what triggered the memories for me.” Raven’s voice was nearby. Damian strained against the flow of memories, forcing himself to look out —

Damian’s eyes finally focused on her. Raven’s face was above him. Damian lied in her lap. Her cold fingers felt wonderful against his throbbing forehead. 

Raven’s response that night changed under new context. For Raven to discover the emoticlones, then suddenly remember all of this, an entire lifetime —

Conner was right. I failed her. She suffered this on her own.

I shouldn't have left.

“It's terrifying. But the parts with you…” Raven paused. “Am I sick for enjoying memories from the end of the world?”

Damian sat up. The room swayed, but it was easier to manage when he concentrated on Raven’s voice. Damian looked at her and remembered one moment. The last moment. On the beach. The ocean glittered beneath Barry Allen’s feet. They turned to each other. Raven’s fingers caressed his cheek. She leaned in—

His entire life — all of the knowledge and suffering — led to that one moment. The moment he fought for. The moment he died for. Was it worth it?

As a man who kissed a goddess thrice, he knew the answer.

Damn right it was.

“It's not all terrible. As long as you discount the part where I died,” Damian said.

Raven smiled. “Naturally.” 

On the hanging bench, Raven’s fingers stretched towards his. Damian no longer questioned brain logic as to why a bench that was suspended on vines was in a candy shop. He turned his palm upward. Her hand sank into his. Their fingers intertwined. 

Damian smiled back. 

“So…how was recon with Batman?” said Raven. 

Damian shuddered. “The worst camping trip ever.” 

“I’ve never been. You’ll have to take me sometime.”

Damian imagined Raven beneath a night of stars. His lips curved up. “I think it would be much more enjoyable with present company. Excluding my family.”

“And mine. John would find some excuse to perform and exorcism and Boston would terrorize the campsite.”

Damian chuckled. He raised Raven’s hand to his lips. It's refreshing to know that her family is just as in need of therapy as mine.

Raven’s cool knuckles caressed his skin. He missed the soft tingle that trailed after her touch.

“I should never have left.” Damian pressed her hand to his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Don't. I left, too, remember? I spent some time with Clark to sort out everything, but I should’ve reached out to you.” Raven leaned forward, pressing her face into his neck. Her lips brushed against his throat as she spoke, “I thought about you. Every day…”

Damian smiled. An entertaining idea came to mind. “I should make up for that.”

“How do you propose doing so?” Raven bit her lip. Damian’s eyes lingered, watching the plush lavender dip. 

It was difficult to determine who leaned in first. As soon as his lips met Raven's, rational thought was abandoned. Raven’s tongue traced his upper lip. Electricity was coaxed from every brush of skin, each caress of breath. Damian held her flush against him as if he could turn the moment into reality. The thought of it being some fragment of a fantasy in Raven’s mind…Damian hated the saying ignorance is bliss, but to let himself believe this dream would last forever…

A soft moan left Raven’s mouth. Damian was lost in the taste of her, so sweet and enticing. It seemed like she wanted this dream to be real, too. For now, that was more than enough. 

“Mmph!” The swing shuddered below them. Raven pressed him against the cushions. Her legs were around his waist. 

Something teetered on the edge of Damian’s mind. Something rational, and not very appealing. 

As his mouth slowed, Raven’s lips continued to travel down his throat. Sucking hard. 

“I should be helping you.” Damian gasped.

“You are.” Cool, slender fingers were unbuttoning Damian’s uniform. Raven’s breath ghosted across his skin. “I crave you.”

Damian was sure his face was an unbearable shade of red. He tried not to think about it. Especially not the hardness between his legs. 

“Your mind comes first. We’re not having sex in your head, Raven.”

“Why not?” Raven’s fingers stilled. Her lower lip jutted out ever so slightly. Damian had never seen her pout before. He never imagined this circumstance to be the cause, either. 

This is the embodiment of Raven’s lust, not Raven herself. This means nothing. Damian winced at the realization. Raven wouldn't buy that answer. 

Damian remembered Stone and Batson shooting him thumbs up before everyone went under. “People are monitoring our bodies. They’re bound to notice changes.” 

Raven made a face, but didn't offer a rebuttal. They sat up. Raven quietly detangled her limbs from Damian’s. She crossed her arms and looked away.

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “Did I hurt your feelings?” 

“No.” 

Liar.

Damian rose from the swing and kneeled before Raven. He took her hands in his. “This isn't the real world — this isn’t you. Not all of you.”

“That felt pretty real to me.” 

“I want you.” Damian finally admitted out loud. “It felt real to me, too. Feel what I feel, it's there.”

Damian led her hand to his cheek. Her touch was slightly warmer than before. Probably from the physical exertion. 

“There’s other people in here.” Damian said. “I won't expose you like that.” 

Damian was appalled at the very thought of anyone stumbling on the scene of him and Raven —

Like Conner. Damian shuddered. Their friendship would be twice as dead as it already was if he stumbled upon that in Raven’s happiest memories. 

Raven leaned forward. The look in her eyes made Damian think that she knew his thoughts. Felt them, most likely. 

“I don't want to talk about Kon,” she said.

“I don't think his feelings will dissipate when we get out of here.” 

“I know.” Raven’s eyes squeezed shut. Damian wasn't used to her showing emotion in such extreme amounts. Without her usual attempts to suppress them. “I’m sorry. I know that…complicates things. You were friends.” 

“Don't apologize,” Damian said. He tucked loose strands away that veiled Raven’s angel-like features. 

Conner was a friend. It was Damian’s fault for asking him to keep her safe. Raven could do that on her own flawlessly, but he was more worried about her worries. Raven was powerful. So was Conner. Damian hoped Conner would help her when Damian couldn't…be someone who could understand without compensating. Someone she could relate to. 

I’m not egotistical enough to not see the truth. I’m a man, kneeling before a glorious goddess. She could vanquish the universe with a snap of her fingers if she wanted to. How could I ever begin to close that gap…? I can't. But I can make sure someone else is there for her when I can't be — or I tried to.

Raven’s arms curled around his neck. Her soft, sultry voice was thick with tears, “There is no gap, you dummy…when will you see that you’re all I want?” 

Damian was frozen into place. After that first kiss, it was so easy to fantasize that Raven cared for him. He always dreaded the inevitable end when she would confront him about how Damian felt when he looked at her. How the central point in the universe was her, and not some mathematical answer. 

Damian’s mind was left to question Raven’s words: she’d taken ‘the gap’ directly from his head. That wasn't simply empathy. That was more. That was power —

And that gap could never be closed. 

Raven’s arms tensed around Damian before it happened. The nearest glass shelves vibrated. A low growl rumbled with it. A familiar growl. 

Glass shards filled the air. Damian crushed Raven to his chest. The dark, murky matter of her powers rose like an impenetrable shield. He realized with a pang how much he missed the violet-black mist. 

The roar was deafening now. Tires screeched across the checkered tile. The motor gurgled as it turned to idle. 

Another Raven hopped off a shining black motorcycle. Not just any motorcycle. Todd’s.

“Hey. We’ve got places to be. I found the others. You’re up, lover boy.”

Chapter Text

“Hey!” The Raven from the motorcycle stood before them. She waved a hand in front of Damian’s dazed expression. Her ponytail rustled from the movement. It was the first time Damian had seen Raven wear a ponytail. Ever. It was cute.

It took Damian a moment to pry his eyes away from the Raven in skintight jeans, the sleek leather jacket, and dark turtleneck that hugged her curves (it looked like an imitation of what he wore on off days). Her eyes didn't shyly shift away from Damian with another Raven in his arms: she stared right at him, almost amused.

The sleek black bike behind her snarled softly. The red racing stripes were undeniable: it was Todd’s. It even had the scratch from when Drake taunted him that he couldn't ride on the roof of Wayne Manor (Father and Alfred weren't fans of that story). 

Damian looked back to the Raven in his arms. Her eyes were wide, feigning innocence. “Your brothers taught me how to ride and swore me to secrecy.” 

“Which ones?” 

“Dick, Jason…”

“And?”

“Cass.”

Grayson and Todd. Not surprising. Cass was unexpected…I didn't know Raven spent so much time voluntarily with my siblings. 

Damian shuddered to think of how much mental damage occurred during his absence. 

“We’ve got places to be. I’ve found the others. You’re up, lover boy.” The Confident Raven raised a brow at Damian. He resisted a blush from her intense gaze.

“Aww. Can't he stay a little longer?” Raven kept a tight grip on Damian’s clothes as he sat up.

“You can make out with him in real life. My turn.” Confident Raven turned away and strode towards the motorcycle. She’s so cool.

The Raven in his arms clasped his chin. Her eyelashes fluttered as she glanced at his lips, “We’ll continue this later.” 

“As you wish.” Damian nodded. 

Raven brushed her lips against his cheek. “Go get ‘em, champ.”

Damian stood and approached the Raven leaning against the motorcycle. Her form was flawless and picturesque, like an actress in a film. She mounted the growling beast and gripped the handlebars. “Most of my emotions are under control, but I still have to take care of my greatest fear.” 

Damian slid on behind her, arms immediately molding to her waist. Like they were always meant to be there. “What is your greatest fear?”

Raven rolled her eyes. “A number of things. Hold on!” 

They broke through the wall of candy and plummeted down into darkness. 

Damian’s hold tightened on Raven. He pressed his face into her hair, focusing on the sweet scent as air whooshed by. They would be fine. Damian trusted her. But he hadn't built a tolerance quite yet for plunging into a dark abyss.

The ground started to materialize. A staircase spiraled up, looming over their heads. It led to nothingness.

The others were gathered at the bottom of the staircase. There was one Raven among them: The Comedian. 

A hiss escaped Raven’s lips. “We might be too late.” 

“For what?” 

The tires screeched as they landed. Damian’s calculations of their fall concluded in them splattering across the floating rock. The laws of gravity in the mind obviously paid no attention to reality. 

Everyone turned to look at them with wide eyes. 

They dismounted. Raven ran ahead, towards her clone —

Raven punched The Comedian in the face.

“Woah! That is a lot of unbridled self-hatred!” Quinn gasped.

Damian froze when Raven’s fist made contact. Her safety was always his first priority; which Raven did he choose to side with? 

Hurting herself will only make things worse. I have to stop her.

The Comedian flinched away. Raven turned to Kent and Wonder Woman, her ponytail shifting side to side like a dial. “How did you not notice? Colors mean things, people!”

“You look so good in a turtleneck.” Kent was gaping at her like an idiot. 

“She does. Your skin is glowing! I can feel the confidence radiating off of you, I wish I had that…what?” Wonder Woman looked away from Raven, glancing at everyone’s doubtful expressions. 

“That doesn't matter! The Green Lantern Corps: what is yellow?” Raven’s eyes were imploring. 

A shudder rippled down Damian’s back. The answer seeped into his mind at once.

She’s not safe…!

Damian sprinted towards Raven as The Comedian slowly turned.

Kent shook his head. “But…she was the one who invited us in—”

“It's the mind! You can't trust anything in here!” Raven said. 

Damian pulled Raven to his chest. They fell to the ground right as the black matter shot over their heads.

Deja vu prickled Damian’s skin. Neon lights licking across the waves. From the ACE Chemicals factory exploding. Everything then was simple. A lot had changed. But the instinct to lunge for her remained. The way his heart clenched with Raven in his arms was the same — no. Perhaps it was stronger than before. 

Damian guarded Raven from the ground. He hovered over her, even if the action was ineffective in the face of magic. His eyes followed The Comedian. The yellow gem glittered on her forehead. 

Yellow was the Green Lantern’s weakness. Yellow was —

Fear.

The Comedian raised her arms, curling her fingers like Raven did in battle. Damian grimaced. He was present when The Comedian first appeared. All of Father’s speeches concerning fear…Damian should’ve foreseen the emoticlone’s identity from the very start.

The Comedian’s eyes widened, and the fearful look of terror on her face made every heart crumble in its presence. As the eyes widened, they sank into the skin, along with every feature, the face disappearing into a blank canvas. 

The Comedian’s form snapped and rippled. In her place was what could only be described as a monster. 

Their party tensed as four wings ripped out from the flesh. Kent was pale. Kory looked like she was going to cry. 

Fear roared. 

The Comedian once proclaimed herself to be Wisdom. She wasn't entirely wrong. From what Damian tasted of death and desire, fear was a warning. Fear was the body’s survival instinct, urging it to run from danger — or it was a trembling heart as it was exposed. Awareness of vulnerability. 

Fear was wisdom in emotional form. 

“You catch on quick,” Raven whispered beneath him.

Damian glanced down. Raven’s ponytail was gone. She looked more like his Raven, but not quite. A smooth expression already masked her emotions. Her bruised black and blue robes shifted beneath them like sunlight on silk. Raven was gorgeous in any color, but Damian liked how the black outlined her form, emphasizing her amethyst eyes.

Raven didn't object to their closeness. Her eyes remained on Damian, watching his expression carefully.

“Oi,” Constantine nudged Damian with his foot. “Let’s keep this PG-thirteen. Mostly because I don't want to see fantasies of you two.”

Damian glared. Certain fantasies of his own flashed across his mind, of cutting off Constantine’s hand. But the quip died in his throat as the embodiment of Fear shrieked. Even without a mouth, the noise was deafening.

Damian stood. He pulled Raven up with him, his body angled between her and the monster.

“So how do we fight this?” Conner’s eyes glowed. It was the first time he had spoken in their presence. He didn't look away from the threat.

Quinn clasped his arm. “Careful! Remember: this is an emotion. No matter how scary it looks, I have a feeling fighting it will only make things worse.” She glanced over at Raven. “How have you dealt with fear in the past?”

Raven winced. “It’s more complicated than that. There’s a reason it’s here — besides the Fear Toxin. That just made things worse.”

Damian stared at her, his curiosity blunt in his piercing gaze. Raven’s face was the same pale sheen as her limp form on the hospital bed. “It’s fighting something else.” 

Raven’s hair shifted. Damian’s eyes narrowed. There was a draft. It tugged on her robes, pulled at his cloak. He felt the breeze on his face.

Raven turned in Damian’s arms.

Damian followed her gaze. The wind shrieked as something dark fell from the sky. Everyone tensed.

The floating rock shuddered as it crashed into the surface. Across the abyss, a shadow rose. Blood-smeared lily petals fluttered from the sky like rain.

Everyone was speechless as it came into view. 

“What. The. Shitfuck.” Ivy’s eyes were wide.

“I’m about to prescribe you fifty medications the FDA hasn't approved yet.” Harley’s bat trembled in her grip. 

Kent sighed. “I hate magic. No offense, Constantine.”

“Taken more as a compliment anyway, Clarky.”

Damian studied the lily petals scattered across the ground. He was wrong. It was stuffing covered in blood. That made more sense.

The massive stuffed animal landed on the opposite side of the floating rock. The surface teetered as it took a step. Totoro’s smile was stitched across its body like crescent-shaped bite marks. The head was a plague doctor’s mask made of cotton. 

Blood trickled from a hole in its chest. The heart was removed.

“Love.” Raven whispered. 

“Love?” Conner repeated. He shook his head, “No. How…it’s…love is supposed to be good, isn't it?”

Raven shook her head. “Not always. Any emotion can be corrupted. Love most of all…loving things you shouldn't…” Conner winced at Raven’s words. “...loving people who hurt you.”

Raven shuddered. The bloody wound where Love’s heart should have been wouldn't leave Damian’s mind. There was a lack of eyes on both emotions, yet he wondered if she thought of Trigon. 

The embodiment of Love launched itself at Fear. 

Love’s many mouths tore at Fear’s bleached skin. Claws raked across stuffed limbs. Small bits of stuffing flew by. 

Raven leaned against Damian. She was trembling. Damian caught the movement of her arm.

Blood dribbled from claw marks on her body. 

Damian winced at her pain. If her emotions are fighting one another, they’ll tear her apart.

“Your two core emotions are at war.” The sound that escaped Harley’s throat hardly resembled a laugh. “That isn't life threatening at all.”

Chapter Text

Flames fanned into pentagrams across Constantine’s palms. “What’s the plan, love?”

Love tackled Fear, pinning its four wings down. Rips and snarls filled the air. 

Damian’s fists clenched as the howls rose. He glanced over at Raven’s face, passive and smooth. Even in her head, she exercised a perfect facade. How much pain was she in? How many bruises were there —?

“We have to stop them from fighting! Avert their attention, communicate with them!” Diana sheathed her sword. She started towards Love and Fear. In their flurry of movement, the emotions lingered on the edge of the floating rock.

Damian took a step forward and air met his foot. 

The ground beneath them slanted. Everyone was facing downwards. 

“Nope! Not today, Satan!” Poison Ivy shouted. Emerald snakes slithered from her arms, petals unfurling like forked tongues. Her vines stretched across the cosmos, latching onto the crumbling ground. 

Damian stepped off the rock as it crumbled into space dust. Raven’s hand was entwined with his.

He gripped a branch so hard veins strained beneath his sleeve. The limb groaned beneath his weight and Raven’s. He pulled her up first, his hold on her vice-like.

They wobbled atop the twelve-inch wide branch. Damian ignored the abyss that lurked beneath them. Golden-red leaves bled from the white bark to cover up the nothingness. 

Love and Fear were airborne. Love clamped onto Fear’s shoulders as it attempted to shake the other emotion off. 

Raven winced at the motion. Damian watched as scars and bruises bloomed on Raven’s skin. This is what horror feels like.

Wonder Woman landed on their branch with a grunt. “The staircase is still intact.”

Damian followed her gaze. The staircase remained untouched by the destruction. It simply hovered there, its spirals like a strip of DNA, stretching towards the opposite ends of eternity. 

Raven’s face puckered ever so slightly at the staircase. Wonder Woman and Damian shared a brief look. Raven’s expression hadn't gone unnoticed. 

“In your memories…I saw you speak to Clark about a staircase,” Wonder Woman whispered. Her voice didn't seem like her own without the booming confidence it displayed.

Damian stared at the staircase. Everything in the mind was metaphorical: the staircase had a meaning. For some reason, Damian recalled the gap and resisted a cringe at the thought. 

“You shouldn't have asked Clark,” Wonder Woman said softly. “He’s too human to understand. He wasn't raised to think that way.” 

Raven’s expression was blocked by a veil of glossy ebony. 

Damian didn't interrupt. He listened to the conversation as he tracked the movements of Love and Fear. They circled the fragile array of roots. Fear smashed into Zatanna’s branch, trying to dislodge Love. 

Raven suddenly shifted her weight from one leg to another. A subtle movement, but Damian wondered darkly if it was broken. 

“Power in large quantities makes you question your humanity…I have…But I always thought if it concerned one enough, it was only proof that they were human.” Diana said, nodding to herself. “You stayed with us in Themyscira. You’re not alone — there are some powerful women there. And you haven't lost your humanity. If you had, why would we let you leave?” 

The revelation was a rush. The staircase metaphor clicked. It was the gap. 

The more powerful one was, the higher their place on the staircase. Like enlightenment — like Raven. If one was lower on the staircase, they were more emotional, less accepting of life's troubles. Trivial things influenced their every action…

That's not me. That may have been me once, but I don't belong there. I wasn't raised to behave in such a way.

Damian’s eyes widened. He loved every part of Raven, but he would never lose reverence for her mind. 

He held his breath and blocked out the world, afraid of losing his train of thought. The gap in physical ability didn't matter. It was the mental state, the way one regarded themselves within the universe—

There was no gap between them at all.

More importantly, despite all of Raven’s power, she had one trait that would irrevocably make her human, no matter how powerful she became.

Damian squeezed Raven’s shoulder. When she met his gaze, he smiled. He couldn't help it. Everything finally made sense.

“She’s right. I’m from the Middle East, Raven. The concept of ascending humanity isn't new to me.” 

Raven leaned towards him. She mouthed the words. “Aren't you worried about this?”

“Are you?”

“Yes!” Raven turned to glance at Love and Fear. “Look at that! Whether I have a wild imagination or not, it's terrifying, and strong, and it came from me. What if I reach a point where I’m so strong, parts of me are left behind? What if, sometime in the future, I’m not me anymore?”

Fear finally tore Love from its shoulders. It dove across the abyss, towards their branch.

Kent flung himself at Fear. He howled in pain as long claws tore at impenetrable skin. 

The two spiraled toward Raven and Damian together.

Raven tensed. Damian’s fingers curled under Raven’s cheek, summoning her gaze to his. He was onto something. He could feel it. 

“Do you feel love?” he said.

She nodded.

“Do you feel fear?”

Another stiff nod.

Fear cut through the sky like lightning. Diana stood and unwound her lasso. 

Damian didn't move, even when every bodily instinct urged him to run. 

“Raven, if your humanity were truly at stake, you would feel nothing. That’s impossible for you: you’re an empath. You’re the most human person here. You feel everything. No matter how much you master control, you can't change that —!”

Fear’s talons raked across the bark, spraying white shards. Everyone ducked as small splinters and Fear’s knife-like feathers cut the air. 

Kent held the beast off. He his arms trembled as the shrieking emotion thrashed. 

Clark never fought back. 

Diana’s lasso whipped the air as she joined him, keeping the creature at bay. 

Damian kneeled before Raven. They were eye level now. He cupped her angelic face in his hands and completely ignored the monster shrieking at the top of its lungs right next to them. 

“You're human,” Raven whispered. “How could you possibly know about this?”

His eyes met hers. “I know you.” 

Her lavender lips curved upwards. “You’re perfect for me, you know that?”

Damian smiled back. He finally believed her. 

It was too easy to get lost admiring the perfectly even contours of Raven’s face. How her skin and the glint of her lips put the smooth surface of diamonds to shame. 

It took a moment for Damian to realize the shrieking had stopped.

Regretfully, his eyes tore away and looked to the sky. The creature’s form shrank. The wings wrapped around Fear’s form like a sleeping bird. Flawless features etched themselves back onto Fear’s face, human once more. 

A white gem glittered on Fear’s forehead. 

With a soft sigh, the emotion dissolved into a haze of white lights, dancing around them like specs of dust in morning sunlight.

Raven’s eyes were closed. When the spectral orbs of light touched her skin, they absorbed, leaving a moon-kissed sheen. 

Compared to such a peaceful goddess, shimmering like a gem, Kent and Diana were plain to look at. Covered in welts and sweat, the two panted off to the side.

“One down,” Diana rasped. 

Raven’s fingers glided over Kent’s wounds. Red gashes vanished under her touch just as quickly as they were inflicted.

“Thanks,” Kent said.

“No. Thank you. You look awful, Clark,” Raven bit her lip as she assessed the ripped clothes where he was hit.

Damian shrugged. “He’ll survive.”

Both gave him a look.

“Seriously? No brownie points for that?” Kent gestured at the empty air that the embodiment of Fear used to inhabit. 

“I don't believe in the concept of brownie points.”

Kent shot Raven a chagrined look. “You could’ve fallen for anyone else.”

“Uhuh,” Raven focused on healing him, ignoring Kent’s pleas.

“He’s just so mean! And prone to violent tendencies!”

“But in a cute way, right?” Raven wore a tiny smirk.

Damian’s grin of a winner faded as he searched the flame-colored leaves for their final foe. Raven finished up with Kent and joined him, looking up at the massive bone-like branches.

“One more to go,” Damian murmured. His eyes followed a trail of bloodstained stuffing…

Raven’s soft gasp was the only sound in the universe. She choked out one gut-wrenching word. “Kory!”

Chapter Text

Raven watched in horror as the embodiment of Love cornered the first friend she ever made. The one who had taken her in. The one who willingly ate (even went so far as to compliment) her horrible cooking. The very first to make Raven feel at home.

Kory.

Raven wanted to scream but a numbness had taken over. She was frozen on the spot. Fear coursed through her veins.

How could anyone see love as pure and beautiful when its true form could be so ghastly?

The branches swayed with the caress of the breeze. Leaves fluttered as they moved in correlation with Ivy who swung down on vines.

The green limbs placed Ivy down gently on the bone-white bark. She looked at Raven. “Let’s finish this. Need a lift?” 

Damian’s hand tightened around Raven’s. She gave his a comforting squeeze back. Play nice.

Raven let go.

Damian’s emotions followed even as she stepped away, a blanket draped over her shoulders. It was comforting in a way, even feeling his worry. His emotions didn't force themselves upon her like countless others: they were just…present. A small sign that he was near, alive and well. 

Ivy took Raven’s unclaimed hand. They stepped off the branch and cut across the air. Bottomless eternity loomed above and beneath them.  

“Gotta say, you have one hell of an imagination,” Ivy grunted through clenched teeth like she was holding back a scream. Her gaze never dipped up or down.

“Thank you. For coming here,” Raven said. There wasn't much of a reason for Ivy to be here, except for keeping Harley safe. Raven felt the warm tie between them — Harley and Ivy put the least stress on her emotions, surprisingly. 

Ivy shrugged. “When we first met, you didn't have to talk to me or compliment my jacket and stuff — but you did. You always texted first and didn't complain about it…and the potted plant you got me was nice…you’re one of the few that takes Harls seriously.” 

The words were awkward and described things so old Raven nearly forgot she did them. But the sincerity behind it —

Ivy looked away. “I’m here because I want to be here. I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”

Raven’s surroundings blurred. She wiped at her face with her sleeve, “Ivy —”

Shouts from above cut them off. The massive tree shook. New buds sprouted across the garnet leaves.

Lilies snapped their jaws, angling their long necks at everyone hanging for dear life to the branches.

Ivy glanced down briefly to meet Raven’s gaze. “I know I should be terrified, but…that’s so badass. Like, I just want to take every single one of them home with me and pick out cute little pots at thrift stores.”

“You could buy plain ones and paint them with Harley.” Raven tried to focus on the conversation and failed miserably. She was looking back at Damian, facing an entire branch full of bloodlusting lilies.

Eh. He’s done a number on Wayne Manor’s garden so many times. He should be fine.

“Yeah! As long as we, you know, don't die first,” Ivy mumbled the last part.

The leaves hissed as they landed on Starfire’s branch. Kory struggled on one of Love’s plushy fists.

“Okay, how do we defeat Love?” Ivy raised scarlet lotus blossoms to duel the lilies around them. Two thorny vines rose at her sides, aimed at the large stuffed animal.

Raven shook her head. Her eyes searched Kory’s form, looking for wounds. There were a few scratches…but she couldn't see everything. 

“I don't know.” Raven said.

The sky behind Love’s form warped, rustling like fabric along the edges. No. Black gas seeped from Love, filling the air.

The emotion didn't move. It watched as the mist curled up from beneath its beak-like mask. 

Everyone covered their mouths. All Raven could see was black. Even Ivy vanished a few inches away. 

A sick feeling festered in Raven from its black touch. A stone sank in her chest.

Raven threaded her fingers through the mist. 

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

The ebony poison shifted at her command, sighing.

Darkness there and nothing more.

The blackness gathered.

Azarath metrion zinthos.

The poison curled back. 

“Holy buckets of fuck!” Ivy’s curse rang out across the void. The voice didn't come from right next to Raven.

Love raised its fists. Kory was clasped in one, Ivy in another. 

“Raven!” Kory shouted to her.

Raven’s arms rose against her will, fingers contorted on instinct. She resisted the urge to call on the shadows again. Hurting an emotion would only cause pain — and that would make reality worse for everyone.

“I’m sorry —! I don't know what to do! Tell ME what to do!” Raven pulled her spider-like hands back. She yanked at her hair instead.

Her friends writhed as they were slowly crushed in Love’s grasp. 

“I don't know! But I know someone who can!” Kory’s eyes snapped shut.

“What?”

“You always were our big guns.”

Raven’s lips parted, but no sound came out. It couldn't be real. He wasn't here.

Someone tapped her left shoulder. Raven turned. Nothing.

He laughed.

Raven looked to the right, where Dick Grayson stood. 

His usual lopsided grin grew wide, dimples forming on his cheeks. The blue plates of his Nightwing armor glinted beneath the small white lights in the sky. 

He looked real.

Dick whistled as he assessed the embodiment of Love. “Never knew you had a soft spot for plushies.”

Kory’s eyes were still sealed shut. Lines creased her forehead as she concentrated. She must’ve imagined Dick.

Raven’s wonder shrank away as Kory’s skin lost its warm, bronze shade right before her eyes. Ivy was nearly translucent. 

“When I said you were more emotional, I didn't mean like this,” Dick’s voice caught Raven’s attention. 

Dick’s expression was always kind. There was a hint of sympathy in the dip of his eyebrows. 

“We love you. And we know you love us,” Dick said.

Raven looked away. John and Zatanna were back to back. A pile of decaying lilies rose around them. “I love them, too.” 

“I know.” Dick said. “And that’s a good thing. You deserve more good people in your life.”

“I might love your brother, too.”

“Well, when the hypnosis wears off, I wish you a full recovery.” 

Raven’s smile faded quickly. “I don't know how to do this.”

“To love?”

Raven nodded.

“It’s simple. Easy as breathing,” Dick clasped Raven’s shoulders. He leaned forward. His blue-gray gaze was intense.

“It starts with loving yourself first.” The words were soft like petals caressed by the wind.

Raven blinked. It was one of those revelations that made one aware of reality for a brief moment. 

“Once you do that, you’re capable of the rest. Don't worry about the emoticlones or if you’re human enough. You’re you. And that’s great.”

Raven nodded. She closed her eyes, willing the emotions to calm, begging whatever was screwed up inside her to let Kory and Ivy go. 

She opened one eye and peeked at Dick. “Easier said than done.” 

“Lies. You’ve got plenty of material. Here, let’s brainstorm,”

“Dick, Kory’s being strangled to death.”

“That's nothing compared to our sex life.”

“Ew!” Raven lurched in his grasp, trying to pull away from him. She blocked out tales forced upon her from Kory’s insistent sharing of intimate details.

Dick chuckled. “Kidding, kidding. Anyhow, you’re smart. You’re incredibly well-read. You have horrible taste in men, but there’s worse flaws to have —”

Raven rolled her eyes.

“— you’re nice —”

“I’m nice?”

“Duh. ‘Rachel’ does mean lamb after all —”

“I’m killing you as soon as we get out of here.”

Dick smiled. “You and Little D can make a date out of it. Look, you gotta give yourself some credit. With all of the negative things that have happened in your life, you’ve spun it around and turned it into something amazing. You do it every day: you use your hella cool powers to save people’s lives. You chose to be good. And what’s even more insane is that you bring out the best qualities in others, too. We partnered up with Ivy because of you, and she hates human beings! The drunk magician also seems like an ass, but when he’s around you, he acts like he cares! You’re so awesome that you inspire people, and you should be proud of that.

“You’re also the best friend I ever had.” Dick whispered. “And I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Dick.”

Raven raised her arms ever so slightly. They wrapped around Dick’s waist. 

It was a new feeling. Hugging someone. Something she hardly ever did seemed to happen over and over in her mind today. 

They stood in silence for a while. The screeching lilies quelled. Dick’s arms fell from her shoulders. 

“See you on the outside, sis,” he murmured.

When Raven opened her eyes, Dick was gone. White orbs twirled around the branches, golden behind the curtains of red leaves. They hummed as they weaved throughout the branches.

Raven felt well. Whole. Not like her heart had been ripped out and stitched back together. Like there was never a hole in the first place.

Completely balanced.

Chapter Text

— D A Y S   L A T E R —

“You still won't tell me where we’re going?” Raven said. 

Damian smirked behind the wheel. He refused to disclose the location — or the nature of their trip for the past three days. 

“It’s a surprise,” Damian replied. 

Raven rolled her eyes. That was the closest to an explanation she’d get. More like a distraction…

The gorgeous Italian countryside blurred outside the Batmobile’s windows. Fields of vineyards were sprawled across the gentle hills, painted bronze by the sunset. When she rolled down the windows, the air was scented with herbs. 

Raven didn't know where she was going, but she certainly knew why. No one had spoken about her reaction to the Fear Toxin, but she knew they remembered. Raven could feel the others' alarm as she passed, worse than normal. 

Raven’s public image was walking plague at best. The situation must’ve been bad if Lois Lane herself brushed off Metropolis to help “get the story straight” in Gotham.

Raven avoided the passenger window reflecting her face. Her public image was one thing. But her reputation among her peers (for lack of a better term) after sending half the Justice League to the hospital…Raven shuddered to think of it. A moment when Supergirl showered Raven with compliments flickered in the back of her mind. Would she still mean them?

“I’d like to spend more time with you,” Damian said, misinterpreting her silence. His head was completely turned away from the road. One hand just barely nudged the wheel.

Raven took hold of his chin and pointed his gaze back at the countryside. “You know I do, too. And I prefer that we don't get into a freak accident along the way.”

“Are you questioning my driving skills?”

“I’m questioning your focus when I’m sitting right next to you,” Raven smiled.

Raven felt Damian's emotions splutter at her words. Being an empath used to feel like a curse, but now it was simply an added bonus to being around him.

Damian glanced away. Crimson bloomed in his cheeks. “Fair enough. But you don't seem very excited.”

Damian squeezed Raven’s fingers. Their hands were interlocked between the seats. 

Raven smiled briefly at their fingers meshed together on top of the gearshift. She wished it was just an impromptu getaway trip. It was sweet of Damian to pose it that way.

Her reply was soft, “It feels weird to make a mess and run away.”

“You didn't make a mess. We resolved the issue. All of the…inner turmoil has receded,” Damian shrugged.

Raven turned in the passenger seat to face him. It amazed her how nonchalant Damian was. After what she…did to Gotham. His home.

Damian glanced at her face and guessed what she was thinking. “I know you’re upset about it. I’m sorry. It’s hard to feel that way when I’m with you. But you shouldn’t worry about Gotham. It gets wrecked by clowns and psychotic killers on a daily basis.”

Wow. There was not an ounce of judgment in his statement. He must really like her.

“But you’re still meeting with Quinn for weekly Zoom sessions,” Damian relented.

“Oh?” Raven’s brow arched. “I’m shocked you’d allow that.”

“She is a licensed psychiatrist that is aware of everything first-hand,” Damian begrudgingly admitted. His eyes remained on the dirt road ahead. 

“And…?” 

Raven knew how much Damian still despised Harley Quinn. Now that she was so in tune with his feelings, Raven realized why he never approved of Ivy. Damian had never forgiven Harley Quinn for standing by when Joker annihilated Jason Todd. Anyone associated with Harley repulsed Damian…or used to.

Damian glared out the windshield. “Quinn helped us repel Darkseid’s attack and maintain order. She can be trusted.”

“Mmm.”

“Not that that implements the restoration of her sanity in any way. She’s still a fully licensed lunatic.” 

“What a compliment. I’m sure she’d love to hear that,” Raven said, smiling. 

The Batmobile slowed as they reached the cliffs. The Mediterranean lapped at the edges like a piece of turquoise silk fluttering in the wind. Gold stained the rivulets of the sea from the sunset. 

“It’s beautiful here,” Raven murmured.

Damian casted one pointed glance at her. “I’ve seen better.”

Raven squeezed his hand. The jerk of the car nearly separated their fingers as the Batmobile rolled off the road. It stopped before the cliffs bathed in orange. Just barely, Raven could hear the waves sigh as they caressed the sharp ridges. 

“Speaking of the Flashpoint, Father has suggested that you should help debug Cyborg,” Damian said.

Raven bit her lip. Wonder Woman revealed in her head why the Flashpoint was kept a secret: Victor Stone. Darkseid had spied on the Justice League through Cyborg’s tech before the Flashpoint. 

Batman thought it was only logical to assume he did the same in their new reality. Thus no one had told Vic yet, for fear Darkseid would retaliate and shut down his systems.

Raven hated keeping Vic in the dark, but the thought of him disassembling before her eyes —

“I’m not the best at techno-magic,” Raven said. Vic deserved an expert: a fixer. Not a destroyer. 

“I trust your expertise better than Constantine’s,” Damian’s face puckered.

“I don't know. You hardly trust me with a stove, you think it’s wise to unleash me on Vic’s mind?”

“I wouldn't mind a little unleashing.”

“I suppose I should be grateful for that.”

They shared a smile. 

Silence filled the car. Damian’s fingers fiddled with her hand, tracing the lines on her palm. Raven scooted closer to lean her head on his shoulder. The aroma of pine clung to his gray collared shirt.

They looked out at the magnificent birth of twilight together, the vibrant colors undiluted from the heavy tint of the windshield.

“Why did you stop?” said Raven.

“I like looking out at the waves. Brings back memories.” Damian raised her hand to his lips.

Raven marveled at the lightness that encompassed her body. It was such a rare feeling before Damian. Now it was almost as if the sensations had always been there.

Raven’s last memory of the Flashpoint rose up in comparison to the scene before them. Holding hands, looking at a slightly altered horizon. Every part of the memory was nearly picture perfect. Damian at her side. Her powers fully under her control. The gem on her forehead silent.

I’m still here!

Oh, I know.

Raven didn’t ignore the fact that Trigon hadn't even attempted to escape while everyone was in her head. It was the perfect opportunity. The worst Trigon had done was one instance of scaring Constantine. 

I know you. You chose to stay for a reason. And I will find out why. With that, Raven shut out his voice and nuzzled her face into Damian’s arm. The scent of him was distracting. 

“What do you think would’ve happened to us? After Darkseid left the world a mess?” Raven wondered.

“Hmm…” the tip of Damian’s nose brushed against her knuckles. “ That would've been a mess to clean. In terms of us, however…”

Raven looked up. Damian’s face was right before hers. Raven held her breath for his reply. 

“My life would’ve been you. That might sound vague, but there’s no better description of it.”

Raven smiled. She could picture exactly what Damian meant. Soft words exchanged in bookstores and bringing tissues to John Wick movies. Taking turns holding an umbrella as they strolled through Gotham. More of her cooking mistakes and even more of his cooking miracles. Fates entwined like their interlocked fingers.

“A happy ending,” Raven said. “That sounds perfect.”

Raven closed the gap between them, her lips brushing his. The soft pressure of it never failed to make her heart spasm.

The heat of Damian’s breath scalded her lips. She clutched at his clothes, closing the distance between them. Damian groaned into her mouth.

For once, with extreme delight, Raven threw self-control to the wayside. 

She pushed her seatbelt away, not breaking their kiss as Raven sank into his lap. When Damian broke away for breath, Raven’s tongue trailed down his throat. He shuddered beneath her. 

Raven fingered the top button of his collared shirt. She glanced through her eyelashes at his face. 

“Now?” Damian’s voice was rough. It sent shivers down her spine. 

Raven’s thumb traced the outline of the button. She nodded.

“I was waiting until we reached a bed for —”

“I really don't care.” Raven pressed her mouth back to his, tongue tracing the outline of his lips before diving in. 

Raven’s fingers gave into temptation. She flew through the buttons to the chiseled lines underneath, hot and rigid like heated iron rods. He shivered from her touch as she traced the mold of muscles always shielded by fabric. 

Damian’s hands moved behind her, feeling the edges of her blouse. His fingers sank underneath, stroking fire against her skin. 

They paused only as Damian lifted Raven’s shirt over her head. His hands explored newly exposed skin.

Raven ground into his lap, suddenly pleased at the fashion choice of wearing a skirt.

Damian gently gripped the hair at the back of Raven’s skull and pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. He licked his lips.

“You can feel it, can't you?” he said. “Even when I can't put it into words?” 

Raven nudged her nose against his. Every inhale was Damian, overtaking her senses. She could taste the pleasure in the air. Fireworks burst across her body where her bare skin touched his. Damian’s emotions were more in tune with hers than they ever were before.

“I have enough words for the both of us,” she assured him. “Starting with ‘take off your pants.’ ”

Damian smirked. “Is that a command?”

Raven’s nails trailed down his back. She nodded. 

Damian laughed quietly.

“Yes, my beloved.” 

Chapter Text

— E P I L O G U E — 

— L E G I O N   O F   D O O M   H E A D Q U A R T E R S —

The ghostly pallor seared his eyes. Holograms hummed around him. They made it easier to pretend Lex wasn't there. 

“You won't let this go, will you?” Lex appeared spectral, bathed in the moonlike shine. An annoying figment of his imagination.

Conner ignored him. He continued to scribble physics formulas across the touchscreen table. That was one of the perks of being Lex’s spawn. The whole brainiac part.

“I can fix everything,” Conner murmured. It was more of a personal assurance than actually talking to Lex.

“Hmph.” Lex stared at the blue text. “I’ll admit, I see the potential. But it’s a total reset. You have to be willing to sacrifice everything to do it.”

Kon kept writing. 

“Not to mention, everyone else would have to start over, too.”

His pen flew across the touchpad, shrieking in protest.

“Which, I suppose, is the point. You and your fixations…you must acquire that from me.”

Conner focused on the hum of the screens. It was doable — with the right technology. It would cost a bajillion dollars, but thankfully Luthor genes were expensive. Kon could make blueprints easy —

Lex’s hand slammed against the table. He leaned over to be eye level with Conner. “Are you listening to me?”

Conner just nodded along. He already knew the warnings that Lex was throwing at him. He didn't care. “I know.” 

Lex looked away with a miffed expression. For a minute there, he almost looked like a father.

Mercy shifted from the shadows of the room. She put a hand on Lex’s arm and he shrugged her off. 

Mercy looked at Conner. Her lips parted like she was about to say something, but then sharply closed them. Her heels clicked as she left the room.

Conner kept writing. He stole a glance every now and then at Lex. Lex stood at the window, looking out. Lots of the headquarters were missing. It was more of a large, abstract art piece of workmen and wooden panels at this point. The drilling sounds from people putting the building back together were hurt Kon’s ears. 

They’re still trying to fix the destruction from —

Kon flinched away from the thought. All of his focus went into the small, fluid movements of his hand. 

“I know you were infatuated with my assistant,” Lex said carefully. “But all of this, just for one girl. One dead girl…”

Small snapping sounds caught Conner’s attention. Tiny cracks bloomed across the stylus. Like wounds. Conner laxed his grip. 

That was the lie they sold to lex. Rachel Grey died by the hands of Raven. Ironic. What’s sad was how true it was.

Ray.

The love monster from her head shortly followed whenever Conner thought of her. He shuddered to think of that walking freakshow, but that was all the proof he needed that he was doing the right thing. Love wasn't monstrous. It wasn't supposed to be. 

‘Let’s just stick with being happy for now.’

That was the real lie. How could Conner make her happy at all, with things the way they were? How could Conner make Raven when it wasn't just Raven anymore? It was Raven and Da — 

No. Conner would only cause her pain now. He was sure of that.

Kon set the deformed stylus down and rubbed at his eyes. “If I could go back — even before then. To the minute we met…”

‘Sorry for crashing your party.’

‘Don’t apologize. I don't mind.’

No, even before then. Save Raven from all the timeline heartache. Terra’s betrayal. Trigon’s invasion. Azarath’s demise. 

If it was to preserve the most beautiful thing Conner had ever seen — Raven’s smile — it was worth it.

Lex turned back to him. His face was twisted in...pain? “I know I’m not the best father figure. But this comes from a place of love. Perhaps…it might be best to move on? I know you won't like that. But personality defects aside, you have good looks. You have manners. People like you. You’re…good. It wouldn't be hard to meet someone else.”

Conner shook his head. This wasn't some stupid crush. He owed Raven everything. She was the first to go out of her way and do something nice for him, no ulterior motive. The first to skate down the halls with him and not complain about scuff marks on the floor. Everything about her calmed his senses and made them all go haywire at the same time. 

And now she probably doesn't even want to see me. The way things are…she doesn't deserve that. It’s better this way. To start over. 

“No. It's the right thing to do.” Conner looked up at the blue screen. S.T.A.R. Labs documents were scrawled across every electronic surface. Detailing one theory.

The Flashpoint.

Clear the board. Start again.

THE TITANS WILL RETURN.

Chapter Text

Talia’s mouth opened right as the double doors burst. 

“ ‘Ello, Batsy!” John Constantine bounded into the room with a bottle of champagne under each arm. His boyfriend, Nanue, was on his left, Zatanna Zatara on his right.

Zatanna gasped as soon as she saw Raven. She skirted the table to swoop down for a hug. “Look at you! Your hair looks so pretty —! You look so cute in bangs. Someone might mistake us as mother and daughter!”

Zee’s soft laugh filled the uncomfortable silence of the room along with John’s loud voice and Nanaue’s thundering footsteps. John’s eyes met Raven’s as he set the champagne down, suddenly seeming to read the frostiness of the room.

“Little stiff in here, eh?” Constantine nudged Selina with an elbow. Raven could’ve sworn she heard a hiss. 

“These are your parents…?” Talia’s voice cut clearly across the noise.

Raven’s brain was already tongue-tied, trying to map out the answer to the question.

Zatanna turned away from Raven. “Oh! You’re Talia, it’s so nice to see you again! We met after one of my performances, didn't we? Bruce took you —”

“Of course he did,” Selina muttered. She uncorked one of the champagne bottles with a batarang. A vein was showing on Bruce’s forehead.

Talia’s slender finger pointed at Zatanna. “You’re the magician. The entertainer. Ah, yes, I remember you. You specialized in making elephants float.”

“She can do a lot more than that, love,” John winked. The sound of a chair groaning across the floor followed as John dragged it to the head of the table, wedging himself between Raven and Talia. It was hard for Raven to discern why John would sit there of all places, but he usually found himself directly in the line of fire, anyway. 

“Selina, always a delight! Damian! You look as yummy as ever!” Nanaue licked his rows of razor-sharp teeth. 

Damian shuddered and looked away. Bruce raised his empty wine glass, “Alfred?”

“Coming, Master Bruce.”

“What are those?” John flipped open one of the books Talia had given Raven. “Oh, Alexandria’s stuff, yeah? I have the real copies at the House.”

“Excuse me?” Talia said. Her perfectly-curved eyebrows knit together like knives clashing.

“Yeah. Couple of fake copies out in the world. You can tell these three are some of them due to the binding on the spines,” John shrugged.

When he saw Raven’s look of disdain, his head turned slightly to the side. Raven could hear the gears clicking in his brain. “Oh, bollocks! It’s gift-giving time! We have something for Demon Boy, don't we —? Zee, Nan, stop flirting with the teenage boy.”

“We’re not!” The two said. 

Both hovered over Damian. Zee’s hand was on Damian’s bicep, “Wow, that is authentic.”

“And he smells like a sweet potato pie!” Nanaue chuckled.

Bruce said, “Alfred, more wine.”

“I’m afraid we’re out, sir.” 

“...Damn.” the strong, well-collected Batman pouted over his empty wine glass.

“We’ve got something for the Demon Boy, alright,” John Constantine stood, “Follow me, Baby Bat.”

John strolled along the table to the large french windows lining one of the walls. Damian looked at Raven as if to say, do I have to? before standing upright. 

Damian joined the dark arts master at the windowsill. The windows looked out at the pure black night — but some red still bled along the tips of the sky. 

Damian’s back grew rigid.

“What is that?” he said.

Constantine smiled, but it wasn't a true, happy smile. It was his mocking, I’m-being-an-ass-and-I-know-it smile.

“Your present. From me, to you. I heard you’re into hellspawn,” Constantine said.

Raven shoved her napkin aside. The exuberant feelings wafting off of Constantine worried her. She briskly made her way towards them, “John —”

A loud roar came from outside. The building shook. Glasses rattled (there were many empty wine bottles on the table now, courtesy of Bruce and Selina). Dust hissed from a ceiling crevice. 

Steel shrieked in the air. 

“What have you done?” Talia said. When Raven looked back, Damian’s mother had drawn a long sword. She stood on the table.

“So dramatic,” Selina rolled her eyes. “Could’ve at least chosen one with a hilt that matched your dress. Some thought into an outfit goes a long way.”

Raven reached the windowsill. The sight before her almost coaxed a scream from her lips. The reddened sky wasn't from the sunset — it was fire .