Jump City was never quiet, but at three in the morning there was an almost serene background noise that lent itself to the dark sky above. The hum of machinery, the crashing of waves, the stray car alarm, all collaborated for this beautiful night music. It was the perfect time for a run.
She pulled her hood far over her head, with just enough space above her eyes to see. Never mind her lack of peripheral vision- she didn't need her eyes to have a keen sense of her surroundings. There was no easing into the run, she just set off at a mad sprint, her small, birdlike body cutting through the city streets with the ease of someone who has done this very thing many times over. There were many things she ran from: she ran from her past and she ran from her future. She ran from her family and her memories and her responsibilities and her strange, panging loneliness, until her throat ached from her labored breathing and her muscles screamed for relief. She ended up at the pier, and collapsed onto a bench, her whole body heaving with the effort to get enough oxygen to her various extremities.
And then she sat. Not long enough for the sun to come up, but longer than was necessary to catch her breath.
The tower loomed in the distance, at once a home and a prison. She would never go back. She was far too unstable to be trusted around the new recruits. They needed a leader, not a confused witch with demonistic tendencies. Vic was perfect for the job, and the new Teen Titans were prospering under his tutelage. Well, his and Kori's.
A white hot streak of jealously shot through her body at the mention of that name, and a nearby trashcan exploded, startling a sleeping flock of seagulls.
"Calm down. You weren't right for the job. They don't need you right now." She said into the darkness, her words falling flat onto the warped, wooden boards. They were useless at calming her, and the jealousy threatened to flare again. With a sigh, she tucked her legs beneath her and closed her eyes.
Think of nature. Think of the ocean. Think of the fishes, far, far, beneath the surface. They have no idea what is going on above the; they only see what is around them. Think of life and death and health and sickness and love and hate…
Her thoughts began to ramble, and her pulse began to steady. Facts would calm her when nothing else could. They strayed to poetry, and the gentle rhythm of the words fell into line with her breathing.
"Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul…" she murmured aloud, syncing her words with the rise and fall of her chest.
"That sings the tune without the words and never stops at all." Finished a voice directly behind her ear.
"AAAAH!" She crashed onto the pier after falling four feet, a product of her levitation shorting out due to her surprise. She looked up to see a man garbed in running clothes, similar to her own. Black and blue and gray athletic wear, and then, a face.
"Dick?" She said, not quite believing her eyes. Perhaps she had hit her head with more force than she had thought.
"Well, I know it wasn't nice of me to sneak up on you like that, but I don't see any justification for name calling." Richard winked as her offered her a hand up.
"Shut up." She grumbled, ignoring his hand and standing up herself. How could she not have sensed his aura? She did now, there was a mischievousness that hung around him, an arrogance that never left, and… a tiny hint of joy. It was there. Dick raised his eyebrows and smirked a little.
"Aww, don't be a disappointment Rae. Where's that clever, snarky comeback that I love so much?" Her heart dropped at "disappointment" and leapt at "love". Behind her, the bench rattled.
Stop that. She chided herself, control your emotions.
"What are you doing here?" She asked by way of a response, gesturing vaguely at the city around her. Richard sighed and leaned his elbows back onto the railing.
"Homesick. And I heard you were headed for Jump City." There was a flutter in her chest as he spoke. He came looking for her?
Don't be an idiot. That's not what he meant. And stop giving into your emotions like some hormonal teenager. Her internal dialogue must have shown on her face, because Richard raised an eyebrow.
"Did you think I'd forgotten about your old habit?" He asked, watching her confusion.
"My old… habit." Rachel said carefully, moving to sit on the bench. He immediately left his post at the railing a sat beside her.
"Come on Rae, I know you better than most people. You think I never figured out that you went running on hard nights?" Hard nights, like the months before the end of the world. Hard nights, like those after their trip to Japan. Hard nights, like the ones after Brother Blood's church raised her up.
"You knew?" She asked, wondering how on earth he had figured it out. She had been so careful not to wake anyone.
"My sleep pattern is almost as interrupted as yours. I saw you leave. Most nights I followed you." Richard smiled ruefully at her. "I always worried about you. Still do. Strongest damn woman I know and I worry about you all the time." Rachel couldn't hide her surprise.
"Strongest woman you know? I think my strength pales in comparison to Kori's, or Donna's, or…" She was cut short by Richard's laugh.
"I didn't mean physical strength. Although I don't know anyone else who runs like you do. No, I meant strength of character." He smiled at her. "You have had to endure so much within yourself, and you always come out on top. You always let good win. That makes you stronger than anyone I know, myself included." Rachel looked down at her hands.
"I'm not strong, Richard." She said quietly. "I've done so much harm." Instinctively her hands went up to pull her hood back to its rightful place atop her head, as it was displaced by the fall, but Richard's hand on her wrist stopped her cold.
"Don't." He said, just as quietly. She met his eyes as he reached up and pulled her hood back onto her shoulders. "Don't do that. Not with me." There was no need for false pretense with him. She needn't try to deny it, because he already knew: she was hiding. And they both knew she couldn't hide from him.
"Rachel, you have done so much good. There is a literal demon inside you, fighting to get out, and sometimes it wins. But the sheer fact that you stand up to it, and most days, you defeat it… that's strength. We all make mistakes. You can't let yours weigh so heavily upon you." His hand moved to cover hers, which now rested on the bench between them. Warmth surged through her, but she shoved it deeper inside her subconscious. This was nothing unusual; they had always been close, and for her to react at something so benign as comfort was ridiculous.
"People have died. I'm too much of a wild card to be good to anyone, that's why-" In her efforts to quash her emotions, her tongue had gotten lazy. She had said too much. Richard's eyes widened in realization.
"Rae, do you think I didn't call you because I thought you couldn't handle it?" He asked gently. Suddenly, the ground seemed much more interesting to Rachel. What sort of wood did one use to build a pier? In all her reading, she had not come across that little tidbit.
"After last time, I figured… I know I'm unstable. I shouldn't be in a warzone." She looked at him again, afraid to see the pity in his eyes. But… it wasn't pity. She couldn't define it.
"It's grunt work. That's why I didn't call you. Yes, there is constant fighting, but it's routine stuff. I needed people who have more brawn than brain. You, obviously, don't fit that description. That, and there was something more important that I had in store for you." A small note of joy pierced through his aura again, just loud enough and long enough for her to notice it before it was gone again, hidden behind his wall. Long ago she had taught him how to hide himself from her. She had taught all of them; reading people like books, especially people you consider to be friends, is wrong.
"You know I'm always willing Richard, if you think I'm capable. I trust your leadership." There was the hum of joy again, filling the space between them. But it was laced with something else… anxiety? What sort of project was he about to assign her?
"This task is… different than anything you have ever experienced. I don't know if you will be willing once you find out what it is." Richard said carefully, finally removing his hand from hers and scratching at his elbows. There was a long period of silence. She began to wonder if this was some sort of practical joke, devised by Garfield. She never really understood those.
"Well, don't leave me in suspense." Rachel said dryly after some more time. "What is this 'special assignment'?" Richard looked up at her again and gave a small smile.
"Rae, don't you think it's funny that I sought you out? I came to Jump City to find you and then I took a chance and followed your old running route here and found you?" Rachel's brow knit.
"Well, you needed to give me this assignment. I assumed it was urgent and confidential. Is that not the case?" Anger battled to break to the surface. Of course, this was another juvenile practical joke of Garfield's orchestration. Richard was trying to give her a head's up with his question.
"It is… both urgent and confidential. He said slowly. "It will require you to utilize some of your emotions, and I don't know if that's something you'd be willing to do." Rachel blinked in confusion.
"My emotions?" She parroted.
"Yes. I am about to say something that may trigger them, and for that, I apologize." Fear coursed through her body, and the bench rose sharply upwards before plummeting into the water, taking Richard and Rachel with it.
"Richard!" She called, halting her own fall before darting towards him and pulling him safely onto the pier. "I'm sorry. You know anything about Trigon causes me to-"
"Trigon?" Richard asked, turning to her and reaching a hand up to her temple, where a drip of blood was making its way down her face. "You're bleeding."
"Yes," she responded, mechanically passing her own hand over the small cut in order to heal it. "I imagine I was struck by one of the bolts that held the bench down." Fear wrestled in her stomach again, and she let a sigh escape. "Now please, tell me what this has to do with my father."
"Rae…" Richard started, before stepping closer. He took one of her hands while the other brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. That sent her emotions flying everywhere. That's strange. She thought, fighting to keep her emotions from causing any more damage to the pier. He's never done that before.
"This has nothing to do with Trigon and everything to do with you." He began again, quieter this time. "This has to do with the way you run when you're troubled and the way you used to make me tea when you found me awake as well and the secrets we've shared with each other that we haven't shared with anyone else. This has to do with the books you read and the way you understand my vendettas and the places you come from, deep inside you. Those many discussions on old movies and which one of Kori's Tamaranian dishes was the worst and when I convinced you to prank Garfield and when we stole Vic's log to find his favorite flavor of cake and your inability to cook and your solitude and…" here he paused and let his hands fall, as well as his eyes. Her breath had caught in her throat the minute he had begun to describe her. She did not want to press him to finish, instead, she waited until he was ready to speak.
"I'm sorry. I love you, and I'm sorry." He finished quietly.
"You… love me." She repeated, wanting to make sure she had not misunderstood. Kori told each one of them every day that she loved them all. Love came in various degrees and various forms, it probably was not what her racing heart hoped it was.
"Yes, Rae." He said, looking up to meet her eyes again. "I love you in the way that Romeo loved Juliet. Although, I hope the outcome will not be so tragic." For the first time in as long as she could remember, the only emotion she felt was pure, unadulterated bliss, and rather than exploding a trash can, it drove her forward. She wrapped her arms around him and met his lips with her own. He followed suit, although his arms around her waist were very tight, and more than a little uncomfortable. She drew away and opened her eyes.
"Was that… unwanted? I assumed… I…" Rachel stuttered, trying to find the words that usually came so easily to her. There was panic in Richard's eyes.
"Rachel, please put me down, I'm losing my grip." He said, motioning with his head. It took a moment for Rachel to realize that the pier, at least the part they had been standing on, had collapsed into the water, and they were floating far above the surface.
Ah. So the bliss had destroyed something.
As they landed, Rachel began to apologize profusely. Richard stopped her with a short kiss and a smile.
"It was wanted Rae, desperately wanted. And if you're willing, we'll figure out your emotions, together." He intertwined his fingers with hers and leaned close. "Are you willing to figure out this love with me?" He whispered, eyes alight with the joy she had sensed earlier.
"Yes." She whispered back confidently. She removed her hands from his grasp and lifted him, bridal style, before kissing him again. The entirety of the old pier collapsed beneath them.