A/N: I know, I know it's been a while.
I promise that I haven't given up on this story.
Please accept this chapter as my apology!
P.S. - Yes, you guys, this will be a love triangle. Just don't hate me for it afterwards.
P.P.S. - No, I won't tell you who ends up with who.
CHAPTER 2: Sub Rosa
Under the Rose
DAYS LEFT UNTIL FULL MOON: 24
This time she wakes up on the roof.
She doesn't know how she got there, and the last thing she remembers is Starfire asking her some inane thing like whether or not she wanted a "mustard dog" before everything goes blurry. Her mind is hazy, and her head aches, but there is the thought that she might have hurt someone, and Raven sits up quickly, panic settling over her like a second skin.
The starry sky twinkles unapologetically above her as she stumbles to her feet, trying to gauge how much time she's actually lost. It's impossible to tell, really, but by the height of the waxing crescent moon, Raven figures it's been about twelve hours, if it's even the same day.
"Have a nice nap?" comes a voice from her right. It belongs to Beast Boy, who is perched on the railing with one leg dangling precariously over the side. His head is cocked to the side as he watches her, expression equal parts curious and demanding.
"N-nap?" Raven repeats dumbly, still not quite yet all there.
"Yes," says Beast Boy, enunciating carefully. "N-A-P, nap. You know, that thing you do when you black out on the roof and I have to lie and make some excuse to hide you from Robin—who is our best friend, and our leader, mind you—so he doesn't blow a gasket when he sees you lying motionlessly on the floor—"
Raven winces at his uncharacteristically biting sarcasm. "I passed out? When?"
Beast Boy hops off of the railing and walks over to her, tense concern evident in every line of his body. "What is going on with you, Rae? I can tell that something's different—I can smell it on your skin. Tell me, I want to help you—"
"No!" Raven yelps, backing up as he tries to reach out to her. Beast Boy's eyes narrow instantly, and Raven realizes that she will no longer be able to convince him that really, it's nothing.
"I'm sorry," she says, softer this time. "I'm just a little…tense. I haven't been meditating like I should be a-and…I'm just…tired."
Beast Boy looks like he wants to call bullshit, but in the end, he doesn't comment. He simply waits for the rest of her half-assed excuse, eyebrows raised, biceps bunching as he folds his arms across his chest.
"That's all. Thanks for the save with Robin. I, uh…owe you one," Raven finishes, and shoots him something that she hopes at least resembles a smile before turning to leave.
His voice, hard and cold, stops her in her tracks. "You know, I fucking hate it when you do this. You're not being fair to me, and you know it."
Her hands ball into tight fists, but Raven does not turn around. She can feel his anger, boiling like poison just beneath his skin, roaring to be set free.
"You wouldn't understand," she says, but it is a lie, because if there was anyone who could understand, it would be Beast Boy. "Trust me."
"You don't get to ask me to trust you without trusting me yourself, Raven. I won't lie for you if this happens again." His voice is scathing and Raven has to tell herself it doesn't sting when he storms past her and the door slams with a crack that echoes across the entire roof.
It is just as well, she reasons, because the farther away she drove her friends, the harder it would be to hurt them.
"Ready to go?"
Robin has dug up his old Red-X suit from the murky depths of his closet for the occasion, and the sight of white skull mask makes Raven shiver. She reddens awkwardly, as she remembers the short, forbidden fling with the suit's one-time owner, who has long since disappeared.
It is impossible for Raven to decipher the two now, and, if she wants, she can convince herself that it is Jason behind the mask. Her affection-starved body certainly seems okay with the idea, and Raven has to frantically remind herself that it is Robin beneath the black latex—her leader, and, not to mention, unavailable—before she makes a total ass of herself.
She stammers her reply, and fidgets with her disguise. Aside from the red-and-black striped tights and tattered pointed hat, the costume is not very different from her combat uniform, and Raven is worried that their targets will not be fooled by her hastily thrown together glamour.
"Trust me. They're idiots. This is gonna be cake," Robin assures her, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her close. He is fiddling with the teleportation device in his belt, and misses the strangled look Raven gives him as her heart leaps into her throat.
Robin does look down at her, finally, but mistakes her expression for something else. "We're going to find the bastard who marked you, Rae. Promise," he whispers, with all the confidence of a man who has made it his life's mission to never lose. White light explodes from his belt, and they are gone.
Five minutes later, they pop into a deserted alley around the corner from the club, and Raven quickly becomes aware of two things: first, that she had, in fact, accepted Starfire's mustard dog earlier that afternoon, and second, if they somehow managed to get out of this alive, she was flying home.
"Never ever again," she grinds out as she dry-heaves onto the crumbling brick wall. Thankfully, or regretfully, depending on how you feel about mustard dogs, Raven's lunch stays down, and she does not ruin her outfit.
Robin has the decency to look sheepish, and patiently waits until she has composed herself before he runs through the mission once again, as if Raven has somehow forgotten in the time it took them to get here.
"We'll be in and out if you let me do the talking, alright? Once we're inside, I'll ask around and see if any of the Haints have…what is it? What's wrong?"
"He's here." Raven can feel him—his insidious presence slides along her bones like snake oil, invading and unwanted.
Robin tenses beside her, and the weak streetlight makes his mask flash as his eyes search the empty alleyway for hidden assailants.
"Not here," Raven corrects herself, "Inside. He's...he's human."
Robin looks at her oddly. "Yeah, I know. Are you sure you're good to do this, Raven?"
Raven is not sure why the idea of the beast who ruined her being human is so jarring, especially considering that he would be bound to the same lunar cycle as she was. "If you ask me if I'm alright one more time, I will not hesitate to kick you in the mouth," she says instead, and turns on her heel to stalk towards the massive, intimidating-looking bouncer guarding the door to Club Avarice.
They have no trouble getting inside—the bouncer does not even blink before waving them into the dank, throbbing heart of the club. Bodies are smashed against each other, bumping and grinding, and the intensity of the cacophony of emotions is almost too suffocating for Raven to bear.
And underneath it all, is the burning presence of the wolf.
Robin is talking to a slimy-looking stoner who leers at Raven before gesturing to a VIP area the back of the club. As they pass, he whispers something vulgar in her ear, and despite the blaring music, it makes another wave of nausea roll over her. She has heard worse, yes, but it doesn't stop her from wanting to rip out his tongue.
Raven trails Robin closely, though it is more for the peace of mind the surety of his conscious gives her than the thought of losing him in the hazy crowd. Absently, she thinks she will always be able to sense her leader's mind, even in a city the size of Gotham. Something violently possessive rears up in her at that moment, and she has the strangest craving to sink her nails into the tender spot right above Robin's hipbone. She is close enough to do it, too, before her brain catches up with her body and her hand jerks back like she's been burned.
After what seems like an eternity, they reach the electrochromic glass doors of the VIP area. Two black-clad men, trying and failing to look inconspicuous, slouch nearby, and watch them closely.
Robin is at her ear. "Remember, let me do the talking."
She rolls her eyes, but lets him reason his way past the guards, and then, they are inside.
Raven is shocked and a little unnerved that the Wolf does not look like how she had envisioned him, slumped against the wide blood-red couch. He is thirty if a day, small-boned and frail-looking, with glasses and black hair cropped so short, she can see the pallid skin of his scalp shining under the black light. His chest is concave, and she can see the bones of his ribcage beneath his tatty button-down dress shirt.
His eyes, however, are just as she has imagined them, inhuman in every possible way. His irises are black pools of ink, and belatedly Raven realizes that they are actually his pupils, dilated to the size of quarters. She stands there immobile, as his endless eyes reach into her soul and yank at her heartstrings. He stands, still staring her down, and Raven knees buckle of their own accord. Some alien part of her is screaming for her to kneel, to submit to his dominance.
"Who the fuck are you?" A woman with translucent skin and electric eyes spits from the couch, and Raven is saved by the sound of her acidic voice. Something that looks disturbingly like an eyeball floats in the luminescent cocktail she's nursing. Raven recognizes her—Misty—and her nasty attitude from the battle, and wishes Robin had let her banish her when she'd had the chance. The rest of the Haints—Draco, a sinister-looking, coffee-skinned boy with the eyes and tongue of a snake and Cresse, a pale, ruby-eyed dhampir barely older than thirteen and definitely not old enough to be there—are seated off to the side, silent and glowering.
"We're the one thing keeping you and your posse out of jail," came the strange, digitized voice from Robin's mask. His posture is aggressive, threatening, even, and there is a crackle of hostility in the room that sets Raven's teeth on edge. "And if you value your freedom, you'll answer a few of our questions."
Misty's demeanor changes suddenly and she giggles, seductively batting her eyelashes at him. "Is that so? How gracious of you. Allow me to express my gratitude," she says archly, and moves to toss her drink at them.
An X is slapped across her mouth before she can even raise her arm. Her glass crashes to the floor as two more wrap around her wrists and pin her to the wall behind the couch. Robin presses a button on his belt, and Misty's arms spasm and jerk with an electric current before she slumps, unconscious.
"Let's try this again," Robin says cheerfully. "We have some questions. You can either answer us willingly, or unwillingly—it's your choice."
"Cresse, Draco, wait outside," says the Wolf. His voice is resonant and ageless, and contrary to his weak appearance, it is suddenly painfully obvious that he is their leader, and nothing like the pathetic attack dog Raven had been hoping for.
Once they are gone, he turns to them and smiles genially. His teeth are yellow and predator-sharp, at odds with the conversational tone of his voice. "I don't think you're in the position to be asking anything, Robin."
"I beg to differ," Raven snarls frostily, forgetting to stay silent. "You know why we're here, you bastard—"
"In fact, you came here with the idea that you could threaten me and my pack," the Wolf goes on as if Raven hasn't spoken, "And I'd just give you what it is you want."
"Oh, you will give us what we want," Robin says in the same relaxed tone. "Eventually. See, I have your file—Marcus, is it? Is that what you're calling yourself now? How is that father of yours doing? I'm sure he'd like to know where you've gotten off to."
The Wolf pales visibly, but his eyes remain hard. "I don't have it. What you're looking for," he growls. "There is no cure."
"Oh, really?" Robin turns to Raven and shrugs. "Well, I guess he's decided not to help us. Ready to send him home to dear ol' Dad?"
Raven grins and raises her arms. "With pleasure."
"No!" The Wolf finally looks at her then, and she is shocked to see that his eyes are mostly human now. "Really! I don't have it. Don't you think I would have cured myself by now if I did?!"
"You're lying!" cries Raven, flexing her fist, and a silver collar materializes around his neck. She takes pleasure in the way his skin sizzles and his eyes bulge as he chokes, because they are saying that he is telling the truth, and it is ripping her up inside.
Robin's stern hand on her shoulder and insistent presence in her mind is almost not enough to stop her from allowing the collar to take his head clean off. The levy breaks, and Raven lets her hand drop.
"Not necessarily," Robin says, keeping a wary eye on her. "I think you like the power, the strength it gives you. The willing subordinates"—he shoots a significant look at Misty—"the loyalty of a pack. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but you are a criminal."
"You think I want this?" the Wolf asks incredulously. "Yeah, the wolf gives me power but I have no control! I killed my family. Do you know what that's like?"
Raven feels Robin's mind go to a very dark place, so she steps forward to intervene, and her voice is like steel. "Yes, we do."
If the Wolf is surprised by her admission, he does not show it. "Then you know where that road leads. You can't punish a doomed man."
"I can punish who I damn well please," Raven snaps, but her heart is not in it. She has already given up, inside.
Robin's head is tilted, slightly. Raven knows what that look means, even though she cannot see his face, and she is loathe to tell him that he is wrong. That no, the Wolf is not hiding anything. Robin simply stares at her through his skull mask, and his mind says, No offense, but your senses are compromised.
Ice water shoots through her veins as Raven considers the possibility that, all this time, the Wolf may have been controlling her perception of him. Robin stalks forward, backing the Wolf into the wall. There is a flash of metal and then there is a gun in his hand, and he presses it into the Wolf's throat. Raven can only stand there, not willing to trust anything her eyes and ears are telling her.
"You will tell us where the cure is, or I will send you back to Germany with so many silver bullets crammed up your ass—"
"Okay," Marcus gasps, but was that a snarl hidden within his breath? "Fuck, you're crazy. There…there is something. A-a kind of plant. But it's impossible to get a hold of—my gang and I, we've been trying for years—"
Robin growls, and releases the safety on the gun. "Not good enough."
"B-but even if you get it, you can't touch it! It'll poison you sooner than cure you—and that's not even the beginning." Marcus turns sorrowful eyes to Raven, and her neck is burning now with the ghost of the barrel of Robin's gun. She fights the compulsion to scream at Robin that he's hurting him, as irrational as that sounded, even to her.
"Look, I'll give you the list, alright? Just please, don't shoot me," Marcus whines, looking to all the world like a pitiful dog who's just been kicked. "You know it won't kill me."
"No, but it'll hurt like hell. Then I'll send you home, and you're gonna wish I had killed you."
Robin stares him down as Marcus reaches into his pocket and reveals a crumpled sheet of paper, stiff and yellowed with age. He holds it out to Raven, waggling it impatiently when she makes no immediate move to take it. She motions to Robin, and he backs off.
As her fingers start to close around the paper, the Wolf's hand darts out and grabs her wrist. She gasps as she feels her skin sear within his palm, but the cruel, twisted thing looking out at her from the abyss of his eyes renders her immobile.
"Everything comes with a price. You've been warned," Marcus manages to say, before there is the whip crack of Robin's gun, and Raven's vision runs red with blood.
As always, leave your voices and opinions in that lovely little review box and I'll see you next moon phase!
I promise that that will not be next year.
