Okay, this is my first one-shot. It takes place between episodes 'Birthmark' and 'The Prophecy', so be nice… otherwise I'll bite you! : D Kidding, kidding, but I would appreciate some constructive criticism and reviews. It's Raven-centric and who knows (shrugs) I may even write a multi-chapter story about it. But until then, read it and tell me what you think. Hope you like it…
Stains
The pale moon shone in the clear night sky, illuminating her room with pure white-gold.
Everything felt different…
She never liked difference, not even the word, but that was who she, in fact, was. She was different no matter how much she hated it. But she came to terms with that a long time ago and found contentment at some point with her detachment from the world around her.
She still had a home, she still had friends and they cared for her. It was all in place… So what has changed?
Chills ran up and down her spine. She slightly shivered and wrapped her arms around herself to provide some warmth due to her missing cloak.
"Stupid, Plasmus…" she mumbled and gazed elsewhere from her shivering reflection in the window.
The Titans received a call not two hours ago about Plasmus wracking chaos in Jump city and they, of course, set out to stop him. But, somewhere during their fight, the clasp on her cloak came undone when she was hit with one of his dense sludge balls and left her cloak forgotten under one of many pools of byzantium* goo when she ran back to help her team.
It wasn't cold. If anything, it was a rather warm night. But she felt cold… Unsecured, uncomfortable, bare…
She would never admit it, but her cloak was like a security blanket, her own little plastic bubble made to keep harms away. It made her feel safe. It wrapped her in its soft warm shadows, hid her from the world when she'd display some form of discomfort or an unwanted emotion.
And that's what bothered her the most…
Another chill made its way up her back and she shuddered at feeling.
… she didn't feel safe anymore.
No matter how much it hid her in the shadows, since that day, she didn't feel safe. She felt… pregnable.
On the anniversary of her birth… something happened. No, someone happened. And that someone…
She shuddered more violently…
… that someone ripped her of that security.
She remembered the sound of her cloak ripping slowly and agonizing…
RIIIIIIIPPP…
She remembered the words…
- What you had concealed, you shall become…- The single dark eye gazing at her from above.
And beneath the shadows and the cloak... she was scared. She was terrified beyond words of being opened to the world.
Her cover was ripped away by one swift move in a long game of pray and predator. And she was the pray.
But her predator didn't stop there. No, he kept ripping at her clothing till she was covered only in scraps of what was once her leotard. He placed long angry marks with the words of the prophecy she loathed so much along her moon-lit skin. He leached off her fear and dread, sipping it bit by bit like a glass of smooth red wine, savoring its taste in his mouth before swallowing it with a content sigh and leaving her emotionally, physically and mentally drained to plummet to her doom. To let her know that as of that night…
- You can't run away from who you are…-
Everything changed…
Everything was different…
- I can try!- she spat with glowing white eyes.
How wrong had she been then.
She'd been caught. Her mind had been violated. Her body had been disgraced. And in all her shame and weakness in that moment she almost died because of something she wasn't strong enough to stop, for what she wasn't smart enough to prevent.
She was wrong.
Everything was as it always was…
She is the one who changed.
Still hugging herself she glanced around the room, unconsciously avoiding to look at anything that held her reflection.
Her gaze fell on the various stacks of books she read over and over, desperately looking for answers, chasing them in everyway she knew how, getting closer to them and raising her hopes. And somehow… somehow those answers would always slip from her fingers like sand. Disappearing like a warm breath on a cold winter's day.
A surge of pain wracked her frame and she slightly bent in pain.
It would always be like this. Ghostly cold fingers lingered on her skin, a warning that they are coming again, then light waves of nauseating pain washed over her slowly and agonizing, a sign that they're growing closer and then—
With a startled gasp her body was on fire. Crimson marks bit at her flesh and sanity with their meaning. Sending her into waves of confusion which she always desperately tried to fight off… without any success.
And, like a last form of torment, the chills stopped, the pain subsided, the burning died and she was left numb and empty to stare at the mockery of her birthright.
The marks didn't hurt.
They didn't really burn like their taunting glowing red color suggested.
They made her sick. They made her feel dirty. They made her feel disgusted. Filthy.
Even with all she had done and been through, they remained. No matter what she did or how many incantations or spells she bestowed and researched, the marks always remained. Always mocking her. Always laughing at her. And then they'd just vanish, leaving her body sore with a bad after-taste.
She always felt them lingering like a colony of parasites under her skin no matter how much time passed after their disappearance, and this time was no different as she stared at her slumped form in the mirror across her.
So weak… So filthy… The cloak may hide her from others, but it could never hide her from herself. She'd always know that the marks were there. Right there under her skin, patiently waiting for their next brilliant performance.
A solemn knock on her door snapped her from her thoughts. Maybe if she ignored it, they would go away.
"Raven, you here?" Robin's voice came from the other side.
Somehow she could never ignore his voice. It always stood out from all the others during various arguments with the team, during battles while shouting commands with all the ruckus and explosion about. She always heard him.
'Ignore him… Just ignore him… Don't let him see the filth… Don't let him see how dirty you are…'
The knocking persisted.
"I know you're in there Raven" A short pause,"You okay?"
She didn't answer.
"Raven?"
With a wary sigh she put her hands on the carpet and ever so slowly pushed herself up to stand. Her body ached as she stood up and with a deep breath composed her emotionless facade.
"If you don't open the door I'm pinching in the overwrite code…" he threatened.
She walked over to the metal door.
"One… two… th--"
He slightly jumped when the door opened with a mechanical 'swoosh' and revealed a cloak-less and irritated Raven.
"What?"
"Umm… hi," he stared at her before scratching the back of his head with one hand while the other one was behind his back, "Listen… um… I… well…"
When her posture or face didn't change into anything but more irritation he composed himself with a slight professional cough before looking her straight in the eyes.
"After the fight with Plasmus, while I was talking to the police, I kind of stumbled across this…" he pulled out the cloak she lost during the battle from behind his back,"… and I though that you might want it back."
He reached it out to her and she hesitantly took it, spreading the cloth with both hands before her. Purple goo slowly slid down the dark blue material leaving slimy marks and sludge behind them in a form of dusky byzantium stains. A piece fell on the floor with a squishing noise.
She looked back at him and arched an eyebrow. He shifted in his position scratching the back of his head.
"Um… I would have put it in the washing machine but all the goo from Beastboy's suit kind of gammed it…" another pause, "Cyborg's gonna fix it. He just needs a few new parts and they're gonna arrive in two days…"
More silence between them in which she blankly looked at the piece of cloth in her hands. It was dirty, staining her palms with a sticky purple mass. Was there even a point in cleaning it now? She had many other cloaks just as useless as this one. Somehow they were all missing a piece of their meaning and significance to her, except to hide her from others' eyes.
Her hands unconsciously gripped the cloth tighter.
There was no meaning to them anymore. It just made her feel hollow. Every time the marks appeared it would only serve as a mockery of how she once felt when she was wrapped in it, reminding her that she could no longer wrap a false sense of security around herself.
"You could always wash it…"
Her head snapped up to look at him. She blinked.
"What?"
"I said you could wash it away…"
She blinked again.
"You know, by hand…" he shrugged and she starred at him.
'Wash it away…?'
She glanced back at the cloak and then at him again.
"I'm sure you could get rid of the stains if you just scrub a little harder," he smiled good-naturally at her, "They're bound to come off eventually."
Wash it away… it echoed in her head as she stared at his smile.
After a long pause and debating on his words she hesitantly nodded "Yeah, sure…" a quick glance at the material in her hands again "Thanks…"
"No problem," he turned towards the hallways that led down to the gym a smile still gracing his face, "See ya…" and with that he disappeared in the hallways.
She raised the cloth to her face and stared at the marks for a few moments before folding it over her hand and making her way down the hall.
'Can it really…?'
Her footsteps faintly echoed along the dark corridor as she paused in front of the bathroom before entering it.
Wash it away…
Walking over to the tub she opened the faucet and left the cloak to soak under it while she got soap and a sponge from a near by cabinet.
She got beside the tub on her knees and rubbed the soap against the cloth a few times.
She took the sponge and scrubbed it against the material making foam that mixed with the goo.
- You know, by hand…-
She shifted her position and scrubbed harder where she felt the sponge scrapping against roughly before placing it under the running water that turned pink under it. She raised it to her face. And then she blinked.
The stains were still there…
- They're bound to come off eventually.-
…but they were fainter.
She stared at the cloth.
'Can it really be that simple?'
She placed the cloak in the tub once more, rubbing soap on it and then grabbing the sponge.
-I said you could wash it away…-
Scrub… scrub… scrub…
'Can I really wash it away…?'
More soap…
Scrub… scrub… scrub…
More water…
-You know, by hand…- he shrugged.
'…By my hand…?'
The stains were even fainter.
More soap.
-I'm sure you could get rid of the stains…-
She put the weight on her arm and begun scrubbing with more force.
Scrub… scrub… scrub…!
-… if you just scrub a little harder.-
More water. They were fainter.
'… If I scrub a little harder?'
More soap.
Scrub, scrub, scrub…!
Harder.
Scrub, scrub, scrub, scruuuuub!
More water.
Once more for assurance.
Soap.
Scrub, scrub, scrub…
Water.
She spread the damp cloth with wide eyes and inhaled a sharp breath.
They were gone…
She blinked. Only a dark blue color stared back at her.
The stains were gone. Her cape was clean.
'I wonder…' She set the damp cloth beside her on the cold tiles and hesitantly stepped out of her boots and still in her leotard she entered the bathtub.
The water made her slightly shiver as it came in contact with her skin when she sat down. Reaching over she pulled up the plug on the faucet and water stared pouring from above her.
'…can it really be so simple?'
She was desperate for answers. They always kept getting away and she needed them so badly.
Taking the sponge and soap beside her she rolled up her sleeves, exposing her porcelain-like skin. She stared at her hands, her body and suit getting more soaked by each second.
She could still feel them crawling under her skin and it made her shiver. She wanted them gone, she needed them gone. She didn't want to be dirty anymore. Stained with the sins she would commit, with the blood that wouldn't be her own. She didn't want to be stained by him.
But you already were, long ago… An evil little whisper cooed in her ear.
With an angry shake of her head she took the sponge and softly rubbed it against her exposed arm, repeating the earlier process.
Scrub… scrub… scrub…
Soap.
Scrub… scrub… scrub…
Water.
She stared her arm still feeling them writhing on her.
No, not yet…
Again.
Scrub… scrub… scrub…
-You could always wash it…-
More soap.
Scrub... scrub… scrub…
-You know, by hand…-
Water.
They remained. Maybe if she put in more effort.
Scrub... scrub… scrub…
-I'm sure you could get rid of the stains…-
Soap.
Scrub, scrub, scrub…!
Water.
She could still feel them.
Repeat.
- You can't run away from who you are…-
Soap.
Scrub, scrub, scrub…!
-… if you just scrub a little harder.-
Harder.
Scrub! Scrub! Scrub! Scruuuuub!
-But honestly, did you think you could just blow out the candles and wish it all away?-
Water.
- They're bound to come off eventually.-
Still there! Again!
More soap.
Scrub! Scrub! Scrub! Scrub! Scruuuuub!!!
-You've known this all your life…-
Harder!
Scrub!!! Scrub!!! Scrub!!! Scrub!!!
-… It is going to happen…-
Red scratches were appearing along her arm. Her skin hurt.
-You could always wash it…-
They're taunting her again.
-And no matter what you do…-
Scrub!!! Scrub!!! Scrub!!! Scrub!!!
-You know by hand…-
Soap!
-… no matter where you go…-
Water!
No! No! No! Still there!
-I'm sure you could get rid of the stains…-
Again!
-… no matter how much you squirm…-
Scrub!!! Scruub!!! SCRUB!!! SCRUB, SCRUB, SCRUUUUB!!!
-… if you just scrub a little harder.-
They're laughing at her!
HARDER!
-… There is NOTHING…-
HARDER!!!
SCRUB!!! SCRUB!!! SCRUB!!! SCRUUUB!!! SCRUUUB!!! SCRUB!!! SCRUB!
- They're bound to come off eventually.-
- … you can do…-
!!!
-… to stop it!-
She screamed in anger and hurled the sponge at the other side of the bathroom. Blinded by the sudden rage she slipped on the marvel bathtub ending with her head hitting the hard bottom.
Her whole body shook violently as she hugged herself. Hey eyes were stinging her, it felt as if they were on fire, but her body was cold. Oh, so cold. So hollow.
The mirror in the distance cracked as she bit her lower quivering lip, unconsciously biting it hard enough to draw blood.
Three liquids mixed with one another before going down the drain.
She's not clean. She's still dirty. Filthy… Weak…
Uncolored drops of water fell like rain from above.
A bastard child… A killer… A murderer… A Teen Titan…
Crimson liquid spilled from her lip.
But most of all…
Two angry rivers flown from two screwed-shut eyes.
…She was a sin.
His throat was burning. His legs carried him to the common room to quench his thirst after hours of working out, hours of trying to achieve perfection.
He whipped his sweaty head with a towel as the doors in front of him opened.
He was only a few steps in when he noticed a particular sound…
Drip… Drip…
He stopped in his tracks before removing the towel from covering his eyes.
Drip… Drip…
She stood there, near the trashcan, starring at the blue bundle in her arm as liquid drops kept falling from the edges of her hair to the now soaked carpet beneath her feet.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Why are you wet?"
She didn't look at him, but rather kept her gaze on the blue cloth. He knew that she probably noticed him way before he entered the room, therefore he wasn't affected by her lack of reaction, but the wait for her answer lead him to the suspicion that something was bothering her.
"I was cleaning away stains…" she simply answered.
After glancing between her and the cloak and analyzing her posture and eyes, as they were the only things that sometimes helped him learn what she was feeling, he came up with the conclusion that she was saying goodbye to her cloak.
A sad smile graced his lips as he placed the towel to hang from his neck.
The stains from Plasmus created many difficulties to teens many times after their battles against him, depending if they dried off or not. Beastboy cried and complained numerous times about washing his uniform.
A light chuckle escaped him at the memory, "I guess you had a tougher time with them than you did with Plasmus himself…" he walked over to the fridge and opened it to grab a bottle of cool fresh water his throat so greedily demanded. After sating himself on a stool near the counter he looked up to see her in the same posture as before. "So I guess you couldn't get rid of the stains, ha?"
Once again silence greeted him and if he weren't trained by the best and sharpened his detective skills he would have missed that slight tensing in her knuckles that indicated that her grip on the cloak increased.
Before he could open his mouth to ask her what was wrong she opened the lid on the trashcan and dumped the cloth she was holding inside.
"No, I couldn't…" her voice was firm, even more so than usual, leaving him with the suspicion that she was struggling to keep it like that.
With a 'thump' she closed the lid and spun on her heels towards the doors to the hallway.
"You can't get rid of all the stains, Robin…" she bristly walked passed him near the counter. His eyes followed her till she disappeared behind the mechanical doors and he was left to ponder on her choice of words. One would always know Raven's words to have double meanings, and for the first time Robin didn't know what she meant.
His brows knit together in a small frown as he stood up, his eyes locked on the container not to far away.
The soft taps of her feet echoed throughout the hallway. She trembled under the wet leotard and the damp purple hair clinging to her face as she rethought the words she chose not to share with her leader.
'Some stains can't be cleaned…'
Crossing the short distance he opened the lid and stared at the dark blue bundle lying in a heap of trash. Hesitantly taking the still soaked cloth and spreading it wide in front of him, he noted that, besides the bit of tofu on it from the trashcan…
A worried look crossed his features as he turned to stare at the closed doors of the common room.
… the cloak was clean.
Pressing on the panel, the door opened and she stepped inside. Shivers went up and down her spine, and for a moment she tensed, finding it hard to breathe. The doors closed and she gasped for air as pain wracked her frame.
'Some things are meant to stay the way they are…'
Taking deep breaths, she raised her head and met her own gaze in the mirror. Two violet eyes stared back at her, a pair of lips mimicking hers, a similar red glowing 'S' burning the chakra on her forehead. The same laughter and panting echoed in her ears.
'…Stained'
Byzantium* - Color, dark and deep shade of pink, looks a bit like purple
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I blow you a kiss!