She turned restlessly on her bed. A quick glance at the clock on her nightstand told her that her wait would soon be over. It was almost midnight. He would arrive in a few minutes.
She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. Damn the man for his obsession with promptness. It wasn't as if either had assigned a specific time for these meetings. Indeed nothing about these late night rendezvous were planned or arranged and yet he always came at midnight. He was never early or late. If the hour came and passed with no sign of him then he simply was not coming. She had learned to accept his idiosyncrasies but tonight they irked her.
Despite her best efforts she found herself glancing at the clock again. Only a few more minutes to go. Surely she could wait that long.
A part of her was disgusted at her weakness. She should have been strong enough to handle the stress alone. She should have been strong enough to resist her own dark desires and yet somehow she had allowed herself to succumb. It had seemed harmless at first, a small thing that brought with it momentary peace and pleasure, but it had acted much like a drug and now she was addicted.
She could hear her father's laughter in the back of her mind and it only added to the strain on her already frayed nerves. She balled her hands into fists. She hated this. She hated the way her own mind betrayed her. Her anger and frustration only fueled his power and soon the laughter had resolved into a voice. He whispered in her ear all the things that she fervently wished to deny. He spoke of unbridled power and control. He told her of the death and destruction she would bring.
She frantically sought to silence his whispered prophesies but it was a losing battle and they both knew it. He was gaining the upper hand. She could feel him getting stronger everyday despite her best efforts. She could feel him move like a living thing within her and it frightened her beyond reason.
She raised a trembling hand to her sweaty forehead. She fought desperately for control. She fought tooth and nail to beat him back into the darkest part of her mind, of her soul. And even as she fought she knew that she could never win. He would always be a part of her and she would never be free. She would always have this darkness within her and it would forever be her duty to keep the darkness at bay.
She closed her eyes and concentrated and reluctantly he retreated. The inner battle left her shaking and drained. Fighting him always made her feel so small and weak. Sometimes she yearned to simply give in, to end the everlasting struggle and surrender her soul to the darkness that lurked there. And that, she guessed, was why she needed him so desperately. Her teammates and friends may provide much needed support but none of them could understand what it was like to have darkness taint your soul. As much as they may wish to help her she could never allow them to see the corruption that dwelled within her.
He was the only one who knew. He was the only one who had seen how dark her mind was and how dangerous the demons that haunted her could be. And she, in turn, was the only one who knew of the darkness that dwelled within him. Of course the others had caught glimpses of the thing he tried so desperately to hide but it was quickly dismissed and forgot by all but her. She was the only who noticed that he fled to the gym the same way that she hid in her room. She was the only one to take note of the slight hesitation and self-doubt that he was quick to hide. There had been several close calls for him but he had always managed to somehow shove the darkness back before the damage was irreparable. He hid it well but she knew it was there and she knew that it was getting stronger.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the quiet hiss of her door opening. She watched him as he entered her room, shutting and locking the door behind him. There was no greeting exchanged, no words were necessary. They both knew the sequence of the events that would follow.
As he came closer she could see that his hair was still wet from his recent shower. She knew without a doubt that he had spent the last several hours pushing his body to extremes in the gym. Her mind brought forth an image of him repeatedly striking a punching bag. It was sad in many ways. He fought a useless battle with a bag of sand while she spent hours fighting a pointless battle in her mind. It was hard to say whose struggle was more futile.
He was beside her now and she could smell the scent of soap and shampoo. There was a moment of hesitation. Both knew that these meetings were a sign of weakness and weakness for them was intolerable. And yet she still left the door open for him and he still came.
He reached out for her and she allowed herself to be pulled into a tight embrace. She both loved and hated it as she always did. She reveled in the feel of his body pressed against hers even while she berated herself for allowing this lapse however brief. He must have felt the tension in her body because he hesitated for a moment.
"Raven, do you want me to leave?" he asked quietly. Startled she looked up at him. Her eyes met his behind the mask. The mask was yet another one of his idiosyncrasies. He hid behind it, using it to hide his fear and uncertainty. Perhaps there was a time when he had been able to remove it but somehow time had made it a necessity.
With some effort she forced herself to focus. She could ask him to leave. Perhaps it would be best for both of them if she ended this. They could both go back to their own internal battles. They could return to isolation and fear.
"Raven, do you want me to leave?" he asked again. 'Yes' the logical part of her mind screamed but it was drowned out by the cries of the seventeen year old girl who was simply tired of facing her worst fears alone.
"No" she whispered reaching out to pull him closer. He held her for a moment waiting for some of the tension to ease from her. His proximity was comforting. It was somehow comforting knowing the worst fears of the person next to you, it shouldn't have been but somehow it was.
The exhaustion was setting in. The strain always brought with it a series of conflicting emotions and reactions. Some days she would howl in rage and anger. Other days she would curl into a ball and pray for it all to end. Tonight she would allow herself to forget if only for a moment. She needed this reprieve, needed it with a desperation that alarmed her. She needed him.
As his head lowered she met him eagerly. Their lips locked and she was lost in a sea of sensations. His mouth on hers. His hands holding her close and tangling in her hair.
She could always lie to herself and call it love but they both knew that it was so much more. It was need. When they were together, tangled in the sheets and each other, neither felt the darkness within or the crippling fear.
The kisses were becoming more frantic now. Both were breathing raggedly. It was usually like this, heated and fast. He was never rough but he was rarely gentle. She preferred it that way. If she could not feel her own emotions at least she could feel his hand on her thigh and his lips on her neck. She knew that tomorrow nothing would change and she would still be alone with the growing darkness but tonight he was here and that was enough to keep it at bay if only for a moment.
His hands were working their way under her nightgown, looking for the sensitive flesh beneath. She gasped. She knew that once the passion ebbed and both had been sated they would lay together on the bed that they had shared almost every night for the past year. They would sleep and if one fell into the grip of a nightmare the other would wake them. Together they would sleep until the alarm went off and then he would quietly gather his scattered clothes and leave. She wasn't sure why they kept it a secret. She supposed it had just become a habit, hide the darkness in your soul, hide the lover in your bed.
Her own hands found their way under his T-shirt. With a little assistance from him she tugged it off and tossed it across the room. She knew it was petty but she loved these moments. On nights like this she wasn't an unwilling goddess of destruction and he wasn't the powerless superhero. When he touched her she wasn't afraid of losing control of her emotions or powers and she supposed it was the same for him. When they were together he didn't have to worry about losing sight of the line between good and evil. He didn't have to worry about protecting his team. On nights like this there was only rapid breathing and sweating bodies.
She knew it was a weakness but at the same time she knew that this, that he, was the only thing that kept her sane. She needed him. It was a weakness but it was one she was willing to accept.
His mouth descended to hers again and all rational thought ceased. And for tonight it would be enough.
So I have no idea where this came from or why. I'm not sure if this story will meet with approval or boos but I felt it was worth sharing. As far as the couple goes… Raven is a very dark character and I have trouble seeing her end up with Robin unless there is a mutual fear/darkness component. Just my own thoughts though. At any rate I was planning on making this a oneshot since I can't be bothered with coming up with an actual plot. If the response is overwhelming I might be convinced to write Robin's perspective. Not that I'm trying to blackmail reviews (no of course not)… But seriously whether you loved or hated it thank you very much for reading.
P.S. Insert standard disclaimer here .