A/N: Something I have been working on after I received a few requests/questions regarding my thoughts and opinions on BBRae and kids. There's going to be a part two and that's it; no happy ending here, though. Just a lot of sadness. You've been warned.
What You Leave Behind
The ones with the purple flowers.
She pointed at the pair of boots with a little index finger, her hand nearly swallowed by the baggy sleeve of her matching raincoat.
Always purple.
It was her favourite color; Garfield never needed to hear it said to know.
He bent down, his back curving as he crouched low. Her arm instinctively went to rest along his spine, balancing on one leg as she stuck out her little foot, frilly pink socks and all, and wiggled her toes in anticipation.
Her feet looked funny when they weren't bare.
Garfield always preferred to be barefoot in the house, and thus, she did, too.
He slid the booties on with minimal struggle, making sure they were nice and snug.
She wiggled her foot again, but the plastic of the coating made it hard to notice.
"Other foot," he instructed, his eyes downcast.
She placed both hands onto his back this time, and kicked up her leg. There was a bit more struggle this time, but nothing his strong hands couldn't accomplish.
Once shoes were on, he turned to scan her with tired, fatherly eyes. He brought his hands to the hood of her coat, and raised it over her head, tucking strands of her dark hair beneath the hem while tightening the material about her face. Her mouth disappeared beneath the zipper, and she regarded her father with large, deep green eyes, unblinking.
Garfield sighed; he was always tired in the mornings.
Sometimes, she wondered if he'd even get up at all if he didn't have to take her to school.
There were shadows to his face, a gauntness to his cheeks, and dark circles beneath his eyes.
Tired.
Garfield patted her shoulders down, seemingly content with his handiwork. He stood up to his full height, until all she could see was the worn-out, brown belt to his faded jeans.
She played with her jacket zipper, sticking the tip of her tongue out to taste the cold, metallic flavor of it before recoiling in disgust.
Keys jingling, jacket on. He slipped his shoes on and made for the door.
She tugged at his hand, pulling him back.
"What is it, Asha?" He sighed, exasperated with her already.
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, her skin changing in answer.
She had to focus, but she could do it all the way now.
The pallor of her complexion changed to that of an emerald green instead.
"Shit," he cursed under his breath, leaving his keys in the lock while he ran his hand through his shaggy, unkempt hair.
He went to the table situated by their shoe rack, and rummaged in the bowl full of random odds and ends until he found what he was looking for; the titanium ring that Victor had gifted him years ago. He never used to use it as much as he did now.
Garfield slid it onto his right pinky finger, and turned it on so that the little blue gems twinkled with light.
Immediately, Asha was granted the sight of her father, or what he would have looked like, had he been entirely human.
His hair changed from pine green to an ashen blonde, his skin pigmentation turning as fair as her own. No more fangs, no more pointy ears.
Without the necessary focus, Asha regained her normal complexion, too busy staring up into the comforting face of her father, fascinated by both the strangeness, and familiarity, of his features.
His brows, thick and heavy, remained furrowed, and his lips were pursed. She tried mimicking the expression on his face, but he didn't pay her any attention. Instead, he opened the door and headed out into the downpour.
Like any other child her age, Asha loved the rain.
She loved the puddles, loved the splashing, loved the smell of it in the air.
When Garfield was in a better mood, he'd often smile at her, and tell her how her mother hadn't been any different.
Of course, Asha had a hard time envisioning her mom making mud pies until her fingers were caked with dirt. She also didn't think she'd have been as appreciative of her daughter bringing her earthworms as presents.
Good thing her father could turn into one, so he had no qualms about it.
However, today, Garfield didn't have the patience to wait on Asha enjoying the rain. She looked up towards the endless grey heavens, and stuck out her tongue until she could taste a few droplets.
"Asha, let's go!"
She snapped to attention, making out the pinched face of her father in the distance as he waited for her to join him. His flaxen hair was already matted to his face, and the water had dribbled into his fair lashes, making him squint.
However, the rain had Asha in good spirits, as it so often did, and she ran on her shorter legs towards him without a fight.
Garfield shuffled along to the car quickly, eager to escape the cold, wet weather of the autumn season.
He opened the passenger door and ushered Asha in. She was short, so she had to practically climb into the seat. As she tugged on the seatbelt, the door was shut, and all she could hear was the water pouring onto the car, and the wind whistling past.
Her father joined her not long after, and Asha removed her hood to wipe at the few soaked strands of her hair. She watched him start the car, watched him turn on the wipers, all the while he never looked at her.
Today was not a good day.
Today, she was reminding him of her mother.
Maybe when she was older, she'd be able to change into someone else. Someone different. Someone her father could tolerate looking at.
Instead, Asha turned to stare glumly out her window, chin resting in the palm of her hand while she drew squiggles into the fog of the glass. The little droplets rolled down, like gemstones in the shape of tears.
The car ride was quiet, but Garfield turned on the radio to the news station, and the monotone, adult voices droned on in the background, to the steady thump of the windshield wipers doing their job.
Uncle Stone had reassured her that there used to be a day when her daddy hadn't been so dry and boring. The Garfield Logan he had known had been both an obnoxious dancer and singer. He'd loved turning the radio on to the happiest, upbeat tunes, and often sang along horribly off tune while performing cheesy dance moves in the seat of his car.
Asha spared her father a side glance.
Garfield appeared morose, his hard eyes focused on the road, his mouth a tight line.
There would be no dancing and singing today, nor would he change the station to something they could both enjoy.
Instead, there would be rain, and the painful reminder of what she was.
Of what she'd done.
What she'd stolen.
Asha drew a heart, and then wiped it away angrily with the cuff of her sleeve. Tears burned the back of her eyes, and yet again, how she wished her voice box hadn't come broken.
...
She was angry with him by the time they'd gotten to the school.
It was obvious in the way she pouted, folded her little arms over her chest, and avoided looking at him. Her dark brows were furrowed, and her green eyes were glassy with unshed tears.
Guilt, an all too familiar friend to Garfield, consumed him.
It hurt, seeing her this way, and he was almost compulsive in wishing to cheer her up.
She looked just like her, especially when she frowned, or grew grumpy and irritable with him.
Asha stood by the entrance, looking glum in her shiny, purple rain coat. She kept her hood down in defiance, and each time he'd bring it over her ears, she'd be quick to take it off, mussing up her half-ponytail in the process.
Eventually, Garfield grew annoyed with her fit, and he huffed through his nostrils while fixing her with a chastising glare. "Quit it," he warned.
Asha took the hood off again, and glared back.
Gar sighed for the umpteenth time that day, proceeding to rub at the tired in his face, clearly not in the mood for a fight so early in the morning. "Listen, I'm sorry if I've been a grouch today, but I had a…rough night."
Asha's expression softened, the sharp angles of her childish features becoming gentle curves instead.
She understood. It was no excuse by any measure, but she understood.
Garfield spared her an apologetic smile, his fingers coming up to comb through the silken strands of her fine hair. "I'll make it up to you after school," he promised, fixing the tangled mess her wet hair had become.
His thick fingers worked diligently and with affection.
Asha, as always, remained silent.
The bell could be heard in the distance, and Garfield stood up, taking his daughter's hand in his own. It was warm and soft and safe. She felt like she could take on the world with her father by her side.
Starfire had once told her that she was lucky to have such a good dad; her mother hadn't been so fortunate in the matter.
Uncle Grayson had been quick to point out that, maybe, that was one of the many reasons Garfield had changed her mom's mind…
Garfield led her towards the old, towering building, its red bricks even darker when soaked with rain. They both dashed up the steps while other kids and their parents bustled about beneath their colourful umbrellas, chit chatting like class had not just started.
Garfield spared a few of the mothers a flash of a smile when they caught sight of him, and Asha wondered if he knew what they said about him behind his back.
Even now, although they returned the notion, they still managed to glance over at his daughter with a hint of pity, and something more sinister, in their eyes.
Poor thing.
What's it like, living with the very creature that murdered his wife?
I don't think I could do what he does; he's a brave man.
A true tragedy he's still single.
I asked him out for coffee once, but he refused. Something about not wanting to rush into anything.
Hasn't the girl's mother been dead for several years now?
She tuned them out; she always tuned them out. Their words were hurtful and mean, and if she listened, she'd only become enraged. She always had to be wary of rage.
Once they were both inside the school, Garfield shook the water out of his hair, getting a few drops in Asha's face, and she giggled inaudibly as it splashed against her cheeks.
"Woops! Sorry. Old habits," he explained with a shrug, but it was the first time all morning he'd appeared less tense. "Better hurry, or you'll be late."
Asha nodded, and the two of them sped down the hallway, hand in hand, the echo of their wet shoes against the tiles the loudest thing in her ears.
When they reached the classroom, Asha's teacher was already there, and a few kids were busy taking off their jackets and backpacks, hanging them up in the cubby on the side of the room.
"Good morning, Mr. Logan, Asha," she greeted them, wearing her trademark smile, her ruby red lips glistening in the light of the room. "How was your weekend?"
Women had a bad habit of flirting with Asha's father.
She'd have been concerned, only Garfield was already good at shutting them down. How many of them would still be itching to date him if they ever found out what he really looked like? Asha couldn't bear the thought; only one woman had been good enough for her dad, and she was…
"Gone too soon," Garfield announced with a toothy grin.
Asha had dashed over to the cubby that had her name on it, and proceeded to remove her backpack and jacket.
"Did the two of you get up to anything exciting?"
Garfield shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels. "Hardly, but I've been thinking of enrolling Asha in some fun extracurricular activities. Like ballet, or something. "
"Oh, ballet is great! I bet she'd really enjoy that. Have you considered any music classes?"
Asha came to stand between them, looking up at the adults with mild interest as they discussed her like she wasn't even there. Judging by Ms. Harrison's body language, she liked Asha's father. She kept tucking a stray, strawberry blond curl from her carefully styled coiffure behind her ear, and adjusting her black rimmed glasses.
Garfield was too busy looking at his daughter to care. "Piano, Asha? Or something else, like violin?"
She liked the sound of ballet, but one look at her stubby feet and she didn't feel overly confident. When silence pervaded between the three of them, Ms. Harrison resumed her chipper nature to compensate. "Not to worry; I'm sure you'll find something." She waved her hand dismissively.
By now, most kids were at their desks, restless and rowdy; a key sign that Ms. Harrison had other responsibilities to attend to.
She quickly turned her attention to her students, clapping her hands to quiet them down and ensure that they were sitting still in their seats.
Garfield took this opportunity to give his daughter a good-bye kiss before departing. He'd crouched down so that he was face-to-face with her, wiped her bangs from her eyes, and placed his cool lips tenderly over the centre of her forehead. "Be good, little mouse. I'll come to pick you up after school," he told her with a light-hearted smile, patting the top of her head with his hand. The lines around his mouth, although faint, helped remind Asha that, once upon a time, he'd been a happy man.
He tucked some of her hair behind her ear, and Asha threw her little arms around his neck in a fierce hug. He smelled like soap and sweat, and everything comforting she'd ever known. Garfield rubbed her back gingerly and just like that, all was forgiven.
Asha was quiet.
Of course, she'd been born quiet.
Garfield had told her that, when she'd come into the world, she'd scared the doctors, for there were no cries or screams like the other babies when they'd been forced out of the womb. They'd thought she was stillborn; something he explained meant born dead, only in nicer terms. The doctors, diligent as they were, had done everything to stimulate her; tickled her feet, pricked her with needles, and anything else they could think of to no avail. Even though there had been tears in her eyes, Asha had never made a sound.
Only after the test results came back did they realize that her voice box was broken.
She'd never speak a word.
However, Asha was so used to being silent, that she hardly communicated, even in other ways. She, of course, knew sign language; her father had taught her at an early age. As she'd been told by the plethora of people who knew him, Garfield was a man of many talents; one of which was his gift with speech. Unlike her, he could pick up on and speak multiple languages as easily as if he'd grown up with them. Sign language had come to him just the same.
Not that it mattered; Asha didn't use it unless absolutely necessary. Her reluctance, paired with her introverted nature, left Asha somewhat isolated from her peers. Most of them did not know sign language and thus, conversations were often one-sided. Asha easily fell into the category of outcast and loner when at school, and she simply did not have the patience to change this, despite the insistence and persuasion of her teachers.
Yet, even though Asha may not have had friends in her class, it did not mean she was entirely friendless.
There was always Mar'i Grayson.
Asha had a friend in Uncle Richard and Aunt Kory's daughter.
There was a bit of an age gap between the two girls, as Asha's parents had supposedly lagged in the romance department. Whilst Starfire and Dick were well established and on their way to marriage, Asha's own parents had only just realized their feelings for one another.
"It happened at the engagement party, actually, little mouse. I wish you could have been there…to say she knocked the air right out of my lungs would have been an understatement…like, I was seeing her for the first time, and yet, I may as well have been greeting an old friend…"
Asha always loved whenever her father would talk about her mother.
A look of serene peace often filled his features, his eyes glazing over in memory, and his lips in a loose, wistful smile.
"There were webs of spangled stars in her hair that night…glittering little diamonds in a violet sky. It was so long ago, but I won't ever forget thinking; man, is she ever out of my league."
Absent-mindedly, Garfield would run his fingers through his daughter's hair, so much like her mother's. Normally, she'd hated it when he'd muss it up, but when he would be thinking of her, she never had the heart to make him stop.
Still, despite Garfield's recognition in that moment at Dick and Kory's engagement party all those years ago, nothing had truly transpired between him and Raven until much later. Which was why Mar'i had a good four to five years on Asha.
It did not, however, negate their close friendship in the slightest; in Mar'i, Asha had found a kindred spirit. Someone just as strange and misunderstood as her. They both often stood apart from the other children in their classes, being raised differently, and coming from homes where strangeness was customary. Thus, Mar'i did not judge Asha for her otherworldly mannerisms. Her mother, Starfire, was an alien after all.
So what if Asha could alter the colour of her skin, hair, and eyes? Mar'i could fly.
However, all of that was doomed to change the day Asha accidentally stumbled upon her full potential.
"Dick invited us over for dinner tonight. Bet you wanna see little Mar'i again, huh?" Garfield was smiling, but he hadn't posed it as an option.
He'd already driven past their home street, and Asha practically jumped in her seat with excitement. It made Garfield chuckle, seeing her so giddy. "Yeah, I figured as much. I think Kory said she's been asking about you, too."
Asha kicked up her feet to an imaginary tune playing in her head, wishing more than ever that she could verbalize her joy to her father.
Nonetheless, she remained in good spirits all the way to the Grayson's house. She practically skipped down their driveway after they'd parked, leaving Garfield behind as he fiddled with his car keys.
"Don't ring the doorbell yet, Asha!" He'd tried calling after her, but he'd been a moment too late.
She'd already reached up on her tip toes and pressed the shiny button. More than a couple of times. She could hear her father groaning in the distance even as he walked up to join her.
She turned to give him a cunning smile that could have rivalled his own and, although he was mildly embarrassed by her impish nature, he couldn't help but also find it amusing.
"What am I going to do with you, little mouse?" He shook his head, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets, but there was a hint of a smile wearing at the corners of his mouth.
Garfield had dubbed her with the pet name years ago, because of the way she liked to burrow whenever she was scared, or avoiding him, and when she'd wanted to shirk any responsibilities, too. Asha was so small, that she would often fit into the tiniest nooks and crannies, especially when she'd been a toddler. Garfield would often have to shift into the size of a green mouse just to find her.
It took her a while, but she eventually came to like the affectionate nickname her father called her by whenever he was feeling playful.
Her middle name, on the other hand, she would most likely never be accustomed to.
It was unfamiliar, the way it rolled off Garfield's tongue every now and again, like a reminder that it was a part of her. Yet, deep in her subconscious, she still knew, and she still somehow answered to it, despite her misgivings every time she heard it. It was, after all, her name. The key difference was that Garfield only ever called her Rita when he was immensely upset with her, or disappointed. Like the one time that she'd grown so angry with the class bully for sticking gum in her hair (her beautiful hair; her father's favourite feature of hers), that she'd accidentally sent a ruler flying in his direction, smacking him directly in the face.
She hadn't meant to; it was her anger. The part of her powers she'd apparently inherited from her mother. The parts of her that, unfortunately, left her father reeling. He simply could not help her control them, and he was terrified that one day, she'd outgrow any advice he could offer her. Advice her mother would have been much better suited to giving.
On that day, Garfield had been called in to the school immediately, as it had left a nasty red welt on the crying child's face, and Asha had been sent to the principal's office where she was effectively chastised for her retaliation. The bully's parents had been notified, and when her father had finally shown up, winded and unsuspecting, and no doubt thinking the worst, Asha could not meet his eyes. Instead, she stared at her feet the entire time, all the while she could hear him from beyond the closed door, apologizing profusely for her behaviour.
That night had been long and awful.
Garfield had had a hard time looking at her throughout the entire quiet car ride home, and the remainder of the day. After Asha had gone to bed, she woke up in the middle of the night to the dull sound of her father sobbing through the paper-thin walls between their bedrooms.
"I can't do this without you…I can't…"
He had repeated it in between painful, wretched cries that wracked his entire body, and Asha knew, no matter how hard he tried to be quiet, that he was talking about her.
Once upon a time, Asha had been told that she was a gift. That she had been the best present her father could have asked for, from her mother. However, that night, she had felt more like a curse to Garfield Logan than anything else…
In the morning, he'd come to forgive her of course. His eyes had been bloodshot, and it was evident that he hadn't slept a wink, but he'd forgiven her. Garfield was not a man to hold grudges for long, especially against his own child. She promised she would try and keep better control over her powers at school, and he promised he would try and be there for her as much as possible.
However, incidents like that were always bound to happen again, especially when considering all the stories about her mother's struggles with control…
Apparently, Asha would come to learn the hard way that she had earned that trait from her as well…
Perhaps, somehow in the back of her mind, Asha had known that it was a bad idea to have focused her energy so much while on her playdate with Mar'i. Like there'd been a small voice of warning in the back of her head, trying to prepare her for the outcome if she ever allowed her emotions to get carried away. Even then, she had no way of knowing, no way of stopping it. What was to happen, was bound to happen, like the inevitable twist of fate.
"You look tired, Gar," Dick could be heard saying in the background.
The two men were seated at the dining table by the kitchen, beverages in hand, while their two daughters played in the living room.
Mar'i had a large collection of dolls and toys, far more than Asha could ever dream of owning, and her dollhouse was of enviable proportions. Garfield had said that it had been a generous birthday gift from Batman himself, but Asha couldn't tell if he was just pulling her leg.
"It's been a long day," Garfield explained heavily, eyes downcast.
Dick's mouth became a tight line. "It seems every day has been a long day, Gar." There was a moment of silence between them, with Garfield unable to refute what was undeniably true. Dick then added in a far more light-hearted tone; "You know, there's this councillor who works at Mar'i's school. Real pretty, older, mature. I'm pretty sure she's single, too."
Garfield groaned and rolled his eyes. "Not you, too, Dick. It's bad enough I have Vic and Kory on my butt, I don't need this from you. I'm not interested…"
The girls' giggles filtered through from the room over, and Mar'i had given Asha the prettiest doll she owned. "Here; you can be the princess, and I'll be the bad guy!" She brought out a giant, green T-Rex toy and made it stomp all over the floor, knocking down their set-up and making Asha smile.
"Gar, you have to move on eventually. It's what Raven would have wanted. That little girl, she deserves a mother. You deserve to be happy," Dick pressed, concern laced in his gruff tone.
The changeling ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying not to grow upset with one of his oldest friends. "How could I do that to someone, Dick? How could I lie to them? Just so Asha has a nuclear family, and I have someone to share my bed? To hell with that! I was raised among all kinds of people, and each one of them was family to me. She'll be fine." He drifted off, his fingers tapping nervously along the edge of the fine, wooden table. "I can't give myself to someone wholeheartedly…I can't love them the way they ought to be loved…No one deserves to be second best," he added in a smaller voice.
Dick looked away, guilty. "I'm sorry, Gar. I didn't mean…I know how much you loved her…I just can't help but feel like…she'd hate herself knowing you're suffering so much…"
Garfield's jaw clenched, and his eyes hardened. "Yeah, well, maybe if she had thought of that sooner, she'd still be here…" There was a bite to his words; a bitter venom he couldn't mask, and the buzzing silence that fell between them was scathing.
Dick's eyes were then drawn to Garfield's little girl, Asha, who was far too distracted by the crazy, convoluted story his own daughter had concocted to notice his lingering gaze.
"Either way, I think you've done right by her," he affirmed, trying to steer the conversation to a less dreary subject. "She's a wonderful kid, and I know Raven would be proud of both of you."
Garfield stayed silent, and he couldn't meet his friend's eyes. There was doubt in the way his brows creased. Words were cheap, even if they did come from Nightwing's mouth on occasion.
And then Mar'i screamed.
The two men reacted immediately, as they so often did to any sign of duress. Their chairs scraped loudly against the wood tiles as they got up and sprinted into action towards the living room.
However, when they got there, both Garfield and Richard faltered, unable to make sense of the scene before them.
Asha was nowhere to be found.
Instead, Mar'i hovered in the air, staring at them with wide eyes, her hands covering her mouth in supressed shock. Floating directly next to her, looking as equally terrified by her own appearance, was another Mar'i.
Dick Grayson's daughter seemed to have multiplied into an exact clone. The similarities were staggering, from the waves of her luscious obsidian hair, right down to the glowing green of her eyes; she may as well have been an identical twin.
"Oh, no…," Garfield breathed, his wide eyes flickering between the two identical girls as understanding dawned on him.
They were so alike, even down to the wrinkles in their clothing, that neither father could be certain as to who was who.
Garfield stepped towards them carefully, while Dick lingered behind him, his mouth hanging open as he was still trying to process what had happened.
"Asha…?" The changeling called out apprehensively, hoping one of the identical girls would betray some sort of a hint to the sudden mystery.
Both floating alien hybrids looked at one another, skeptical.
Then, the one on the left slowly drifted back down to the ground, chin tucked into her chest in remorse.
The glowing green eyes faded back into human irises, and her long, thick, wavy black hair became a straight, violet curtain that hung just past her small shoulders. Asha's skin returned to its original pallor right before everyone's eyes. She stood there, small and vulnerable and meek, staring at her feet. Her face was aflame with shame, and she knew she would be in deep trouble now.
All she had wanted to do was fly.
When Mar'i had whipped up into the air excitedly, Asha had watched her with an insurmountable amount of envy. She longed to join her, to play among the ceiling with her friend.
And then it was as if her wish had been granted…
Only, instead of elated shock, Mar'i had taken one look at Asha and screamed at what she saw.
"She's a shapeshifter…," Richard whispered upon recovering his voice. "Your daughter is an actual shapeshifter."
Garfield sat on the floor before the accused, shaking his head in disbelief. "She's never done this before…I mean, when she touches someone, she can manipulate parts of her to mimic them, like hair colour or skin tone, but…never like this. Asha, did you know you could do that?"
But the girl had gone mute, so traumatized by her own body's hidden ability, she was left frozen and unresponsive.
In the mean time, Mar'i, the real Mar'i, landed next to her, wearing a look of conflicted emotions. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scream. I was just surprised," she explained softly, placing a hand on the smaller girl's slender shoulder. Asha remained complacent.
"No one is upset with you, sweetie," Dick reassured her, coming to crouch beside Garfield. "We just want to help." He smiled his charming Grayson smile, his dark hair falling into his eyes.
Asha's head hung low. She was trying her hardest not to cry, but her bottom lip quivered, and she had never felt so cold or alone.
But then her father pulled her into his chest, and it was like any self control she had left was simply vanquished.
He held her tightly against him, his hand brushing through her silken hair. She shook against him, burying her face into his neck, the tears coming down her cheeks like a fountain. Still, her voice would not work.
"Shhh, it's okay. It's okay, you don't have to feel afraid. I won't let anything happen to you. I won't let anyone hurt you, not ever. It's okay, Asha. I'm right here…," he whispered into her hair, all the while she clung to his shirt, thick lashes fringed with big tears. Once they'd started streaming down her face, she couldn't turn them off.
Garfield's strong arms enveloped her, held her tight, and his hands rubbed her back affectionately.
After a few more minutes of this, until her sobs seemingly subsided and were replaced with hiccups, Garfield picked Asha up and carried her to the couch. When her little fingers dragged at his clothes, Dick brought out a quilted blanket and wrapped it snuggly around her. Mar'i said nothing; she merely curled up next to the girl's feet and turned on the television to the cartoon channel.
Even when they had left the room, Asha could hear their parents talking about her.
"They'll come for her, you know. She's an asset and a liability," Dick warned.
"I know, I know that. Vic said she'd be different, he said she'd be likely to have some sort of strange ability because of my unstable genetics. I didn't think…I didn't know. I thought, if anything, she'd have a variation of Raven's powers. I've never turned into other humans. Primal alien species? Sure. Mythical creatures? I mean, it took a lot of training, but eventually, yeah. People? Not even if I tried."
Richard sighed deeply. "Gar, I'm telling you this now; the League will want to keep tabs on her, maybe even train her. They won't want her falling into the wrong hands. Just remember how wary they were of Raven. This'll be worse. Not only will Trigon be looking for her, but if he finds her, he'll have an arsenal at his disposal. The League won't allow that, if they ever catch wind."
A beat, and then, Garfield queried in a small voice; "…Are you going to tell them?"
"No!" Dick responded immediately. "Of course not! Asha is like a daughter to me and Kory, too. She's all we have left of Raven…Like hell I'd give her up without a fight."
"Then it's not a problem if they never know."
"Gar, that's not good enough. Asha needs training. Maybe not from the League, but there's only so much we can do to help her when we barely understood Raven's powers. If she's left alone, it's only a matter of time before she loses control and someone finds out," Dick argued, his voice carrying.
Mar'i found Asha's hand under the blanket, and held it tightly in her own.
"What am I supposed to do, Dick?! Tell me, because I sure as hell can't figure it out! All I know is, I can't lose her, too. I promised Raven. I promised her! Raven's sacrifice, it can't be all for nothing; I won't be able to live with myself, if I…if I fail her…" Garfield's voice faded out, and he could be heard slumping back against the wall.
"You won't. You won't fail anyone, Gar," Richard consoled him softly.
When the quiet permeated between the two old comrades, and all that could be heard was the low sounds from the television, Asha did what she did best; she burrowed herself beneath the covers and squeezed her eyes shut until she could ignore the hot sting of tears, and fall asleep…
A/N: The next chapter won't be as long, I don't think, but it'll have some answers as well as an ending. Apologies in advance. As per usual, feedback is welcomed. Thanks for reading.