Authoress's Note: OKAY, so before you try and hang me by my toenails, let me explain. I really haven't had any muse for this story for a while, so sorry it took so long. And I've been working really hard on Jump City High and Challenge Day too, rewrites. BUT, I promise the next update will be a lot sooner.
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or anything to do with it.
Summary: AU Not high school setting. What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger. Raven finds herself sitting alone in the shattered pieces of what used to be her life, and just when all hope is lost, a hand reaches out to her. But, then again, sometimes, you have to let people save themselves...
The Melody Of The Caged Bird
You think you're lost,
But you're not lost on your own
You're not alone
~Rascal Flatts: I Won't Let Go
Chapter 2: To Be Mine
Adrenaline pumped through the veins of the player as he pushed himself forward; using his skills and coordination to keep the enemies away from the ball as it went from the wooden floor of the gym to his fingertips. Time was slipping away, and fast, as was the win for their team.
He traveled up the court, expertly dribbling the ball, and maneuvering around his adversaries. He didn't bother to glance up at the clock, that would only waste the already quickly draining time. Jaded, and sweat trailing down every inch of his body, he approached the half court line and a barrage of three massive and hefty players surrounded him, giving him no where to run.
He stopped, but continued dribbling the ball; he saw the situation before him, and couldn't think, he had no time. He grabbed the ball and protectively held it at his chest, and through a small crack between the shoulders of the giants, he saw Chase wide open at the left block.
He twitched, about to pass his teammate the ball, but instead, he bounced it between the legs of one of the monsters. All three of them turned and their eyes followed in pursuit of the ball as it rolled, and he flew by and captured it before any of them could lunge for it.
Bryce finished dribbling down the court and saw Chase standing there, waiting for the pass, but he ignored his proposal and instead, went in under the goal for a layup.
He jumped up in his tracks a good two feet and tossed the ball into the air. When he landed, his feet slammed against the hard wood floor, and after the rumble of approaching footsteps behind him ceased, he heard the distinctive sound of the ball swishing through the net.
The crowd cheered wildly and over the tumult, the coach bellowed, "Tied game boys! Use your teammates!"
Bryce sprung back into the game, and sprinted down to the other end of the court where the ball was being taken out on the sideline by Mac.
He broke passed all of the opposing players and stood but six feet from Mac. Mac heaved the ball into the air toward him, and just as it was nearly connected with Bryce's palms, a flash of a blue and gold uniform whisked by, taking the ball into it's custody.
Chase raced down the court with the ball in which was stolen from his own teammate, with Bryce right on his tail. He dismissed Bryce's presence and continued down the court where his team's goal was. Bryce pulled ahead and stopped at the block, alone, while Chase was being flagged down by the opposing team as he neared the goal.
The excellent athlete acted upon his instincts and launched from the wooden floor at an adept length, and forcibly pushed the ball through the net, clinging to the rim with one arm, giving the herd of players time to race by beneath his feet, while he was safe from being trampled above.
But in the tempest below, he saw the distinctive figure of Bryce smashed into by one of the many bulky members of the opposite team, sending him to the floor on his back, and sliding a few feet across the wooden court.
The buzzer rang through the gym and the crowd of players beneath Chase cleared out, all but one.
Chase smirked at this individual who lay there glaring at him with a piercing green eye. He chuckled then, sending a malicious glower toward Bryce as well while the audience cheered maniacally for him because he still hung there by the rim.
Bryce watched as he released the rim and landed perfectly on his feet and dived into the victory circle of their teammates. Knowing his anger was on the verge of becoming a flustering, uncontrollable beast within him, Bryce climbed onto his feet and disappeared to the locker room, purposely avoiding the group of Titans crying shouts of triumph as they did after every victory.
"Who are we!" Chase bellowed as the captain, each of them linked together with their arms locked around each other's shoulders.
"TMA!" the team roared back.
"What team!" Chase thundered.
"TITANS!" they chanted, obstreperously.
"Who are we!" Chase roared as they sprang up and down, the distinctive feeling of a well earned win enveloping them.
"MARSHALL!" the team exclaimed ten times louder, the exhorting crowd couldn't compare to their deep bellowing voices.
"Titans!" Chase hollered, tensing his muscles as he stuck out his fist in the middle of them.
"BLUE AND GOLD!" the team put their hands in and threw them into the air, before they began piling on top of one another, screaming of a garnered victory.
…
Bryce listened as the team came jumping and running in from where he stood at his locker; they still shouted rallying cries of victory, and Chase's voice soared above all others.
Bryce felt his emotions begin to flare once more, and he thought about his mother, address your anger as something positive, she'd said. But what did it mean, he wondered, and could he do it.
He shut his forest green eyes, folded his arms over his chest, and leaned his shoulder against the lockers. As if he'd been doing it for years, with ease, he tuned out the boisterous tumult that surrounded him. And he allowed his mother's words to flow freely in his mind as he tried to analyze them.
The door to the locker room slammed shut with a loud echo, and the entire commotion ceased to be. Bryce's eyes slowly opened and he leaned his back against the lockers and he watched and waited; he was expecting this to happen.
Sikes slowly emerged from around the corner. Wearing a brown suit with his hands clasped together behind his back and head facing the floor. He paced slowly and every eye watched as he did.
"What the hell are you boys doin'?" he asked, his voice at a medium tone, loud enough so that everyone could hear.
Chase pulled his white tee over his head and rolled his eyes, "Come on, Sikes," he enunciated as he picked up his white jacket, "We just destroyed the Cobras," he paused, trying to get his point across. "Which is like, a whole team of me's on steroids," he gestured with his jacket over the team and then back at himself and his teammates chuckled and snickered softly.
The coach stopped pacing and paused for a moment before he sharply turned and faced the boys, "I didn't see a win out there; Brenner Oaks lost," he stated, raising his voice, "You boys are some of the most conceited, swollen-headed ball hogs I've ever known. And if what y'all did out there could even be called playing, it's the most selfish I've ever seen."
He unclasped his hands and glared behind furrowed brows at the boys he gestured his finger over, "And I want ever single one of y'all, Sunday morning, 5am sharp, at the field behind the last post," he tore his finger away and without further scold, strode over to the door, "Oh, and, bring your running shoes, boys," he voiced over his shoulder.
…
Bryce slung his sports bag over his shoulder while he sauntered into the workout room, headed to the parking lot.
Hearing the sound from one the machines operating, he glanced over and laid eyes on the one person he least wanted to see at that moment.
He'd managed to keep his anger to a minimum at the sight of his mortal enemy just by the simple thought of not wanting to embarrass his mother. But then again, his anger just rose and festered the longer he stood there, it was more overpowering than he thought.
"This is a change right, Logan? Usually I'm just dunking all over you on the court," Chase snickered, trying to taunt his teammate once again, but the dark teen glared at him with his piercing green eye, before continuing toward the door.
"Hey, Ass Wipe," Chase stood from the machine and approached Bryce's frozen figure from behind, "I'm talking to you."
Bryce slowly turned and Chase met his signature stone face, "Back off, Grayson, I'm not in the mood."
"I didn't ask, Logan, I'm old fashioned; date first, and then smash," Chase smirked.
Bryce remained unfazed on the outside, but on the inside, his anger was roiling as it ascended into the danger zone. "You and I are both aware that you are and will always remain a virgin. Not a girl in this entire forsaken universe let alone on this planet will ever let you in because you are a dick."
Chase's smirk remained, he was gaining amusement from this parley while Bryce was being greatly agitated. "Your smokin' hot mom did. When I saw her in the office the other day, I thought "MILF"; Mother I'd Like to F—well, you get it."
With that simple comment, Bryce lost every drop of self-control, his anger had reached it's brink and hell was breaking lose inside of him. Without a second thought, he reached out and shoved Chase with every ounce of strength he had within himself, and hissed, "You sick son of a bitch," with venom dripping from the words.
Chase stumbled backward and fell over the bench press onto the ground. He lay there for a moment, in shock and trying to realize what had just happened. But after only a few seconds, he realized everything and was now almost as furious as Bryce, who was standing there with a scowl, waiting to finish the fight that Chase had started.
With cruel intentions, Chase sprung up from the floor and lunged at Bryce and they both toppled onto the floor, with Chase landing on top. He pounded his fists down over and over again, with all his mite behind them, sending several blows to Bryce's face.
With the first opportunity, Bryce sent his slender, vicious fist upward, delivering a malevolent uppercut to Chase's nose, and he was knocked onto his back. He clutched his nose and tried to make sure it wasn't broken, and with the chance, Bryce got back onto his feet.
The dark teen grabbed Chase by his shirt collar and lifted him completely off the ground, connected eyes with him, before letting go. Chase fell to the floor at his feet, and Bryce found himself drowning in anger, and allowed Chase to get onto his feet again, before sending him a kick to the one place that hurt the most.
Chase felt his insides churning and had the strong urge to vomit, he doubled over and toppled onto the ground. Bryce seized the opportunity and took advantage, and had the upper hand, throwing punch after punch. But Chase soon bounced back, and he and Bryce found themselves in a very familiar position, rolling around on the floor, switching the upper hand back and forth.
At the loud tumult, their fellow teammate came running into the workout room. Mac took in the sight and yelled, "Fight!" into the hallway. He ran over to the boys and followed by other members of the team, and they commenced to break Chase and Bryce apart.
After a few minutes of struggling to gain to control of the situation, the team was finally able to break the two teens apart. But upon being ripped away from Bryce, Chase threw one last swing and it maliciously connected with Bryce's Adam's apple.
Turning a sickening pale color, Bryce was released from the boys holding him, and he took a seat on a bench press. For a few moments, he found it difficult to breathe, but soon, he caught his breath. And all the pain was replaced by anger. He glared in Chase's direction with an ice cold eye.
Chase tried to break free, but the team restrained him. Aggravated and pushed to his limit, Mac shouted, "Dude, Chase! Chill out before Coach—"
The familiar whistle of their coach blared through the room, and all fell silent. Chase and Bryce knew they were about to be shot, skinned, cooked, and chewed out by Sikes, but right now, they were too heated and worked up to care.
"Dammit!" Sikes' voice boomed through the quietness, "This is it! I've had it up to here with this nonsense!"
He marched into the middle of the room and pointed to Bryce on the bench press and trailed his finger over to Chase on the wall, "You two are gonna learn to respect each other, act like teammates for once in your dumb life."
"Let's not be irrational, Coach," Bryce advised, without a hint of sarcasm in his cold, distant voice.
"This is as realistic as it gets, Logan," Sikes fumed, "I'm tired of you two and this whole cat fight crock of crap. Every man on this team has a role, has value. And you morons have yet to see that. So, Grayson, you're gonna learn about Logan, and Logan you're gonna do the same. You're gonna learn all about each other.
"And then, you're gonna tell the entire team what you found out. Till then, don't even bother to show up to practice. You boneheads are off my team," Sikes waved them off as if he'd given up on them.
"Dude, you've gotta be kidding me!" Chase exclaimed, tucking his arms across his chest, "At least think this through."
"Unfortunately, I don't kid that much, Grayson," Coach Sikes countered, his temper flaring, "And this is only the beginning, so buckle up and enjoy the ride. And both of you march your ignorant hind parts on down to Gordon's office."
With that, Sikes disappeared from the workout room, steaming, and the rest of the team followed.
Bryce grabbed up his bag and sauntered toward the door to take his mortifying walk to the principal's office for the second time in a week. He'd calmed his nerves to a certain degree, but he knew that Chase was still royally pissed because he delivered a very loud and powerful blow into the wall that actually make the lights flicker on and off in the room.
Bryce rolled his eyes and continued on his way passed Chase and into the hallway, "Well, isn't everyone just a ray of fucking sunshine," he muttered under his breath.
"Dammit, Logan!" Chase fumed, picking up what Bryce mumbled, "Don't you get it? This is all your stupid fault. If you hadn't overreacted and picked a fight just because I joked around about boning your precious little Mommy, we'd still be on the team."
Bryce whipped around and tried to connect his fist with Chase's jaw, but Chase quickly reacted and easily caught Bryce's fist in his hand. He forced Bryce's arm into his abdomen and pushed him until his back hit the wall and then pressed his forearm to Bryce's throat, pinning him there.
Bryce could have easily broken from Chase's hold, but the look in Chase's stormy eyes, prevented him from doing so. Chase didn't have to say a word to get his point across to Bryce, the emotion in his eyes said it all. Behind his tough guy persona, he was hurting. The one thing he cared about the most had been taken away from him, and now he was lost.
Before Chase pulled back, that familiar hard look returned to his eyes, and Bryce stared at him with his stone expression as Chase continued down the hall to the principal's office.
...
For a second time, Bryce slung his bag over his shoulder upon entering the workout room, determined to just get to his truck this time.
Sauntering across the padded floor, he heard the sound of the treadmill operating, followed by the beeping of the buttons being pressed, and then silence. He looked around, his curiosity got the best of him, and a girl emerged from between the bench press and dumbbell rack.
It was the other Grayson, Peyton Elizabeth; he recognized her, even though she was very informally appareled compared to before. She now wore a blue and gold TMA sweatshirt, along with stretchy and loose sweatpants that stopped short, just beneath her knees, and tennis shoes. Her tan skin glistened in a coat of sweat, and her lengthy hair of jet black was pulled into a thick, long, and stringy ponytail. Her bangs were moist and tousled, and her cheeks had grown red from her body temperature and exercise.
"How are you, Bryce?" she asked, pulling the ear buds from her ears and storing them away in her pockets, "I'd shake your hand, but I'm kind of.." she trailed off, gesturing over her sheeny self.
"Sweaty and gross," Bryce finished, stoically and standoffish.
Peyton Elizabeth chuckled awkwardly, not really expecting him to laugh with her, and cleared her throat, "Well, I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of one another now. Chase told me what happened."
Bryce watched the uneasiness that his atmosphere brought her. Staying would do nothing but add to her discomfort.
"Well, I have somewhere to be so..." he spoke but trailed off as he turned to leave.
"Oh, wait," she reached for him but stopped when she saw he'd quickly faced her again, "I needed to ask you something."
"I'm listening," he replied.
"Well, I have this volleyball tournament coming up soon," she explained.
"The Crosstown Showdown," Bryce put in.
"Right," she replied, "And Chase is going to be there, so I thought that maybe you could join him. It's an open opportunity to gain civility towards one another; so why not jump at it?"
"I'm the most opportunistic person you'll ever meet," Bryce claimed, sarcastically in his own way.
She couldn't really tell if he was being facetious or actual. His expression was definitely dead serious, but then again, she wasn't familiarized with him, so she couldn't be sure.
"Feel free to show," she smiled at him while his face remained solid.
"I'll take your proposal into consideration," he reached up and lightly shifted his hat.
She switched her weight to her left side, "Please do; quite frankly, I don't want to see Chase when he's deprived of basketball. He'll turn into an entirely different person. I hardly know who my brother is as of now anyway." She folded her arms over her chest and stared at the floor, discouraged by how far her relationship with her brother had fallen, along with so many other things in her life. What now one could only call the loose and forgotten term of what used to be.
He observed as she seemed to be speaking to herself more than to him, "You can't see hope when your head is hanging down; your eyes are blinded by despair. Hope comes from above so that it can hoist you up from the abyss."
Her eyes trailed upward, wanting to meet a green one, but he was gone just as quickly as he had appeared. She slowly swung one of her legs in front of the other and pushed off of the machine she'd been leaning against. She sucked in her bottom and nodded; he was right.
The aura of pensive thought filled the office and each of the women within it were pondering over the same subject.
"No, Raven, this is too risky, even for you," the fair woman explained.
"To everyone's surprise, I'm actually agreeing with the blonde," the young British woman admitted, "Your reputation will be trashed and it's my job to make sure that doesn't happen, Raven."
Raven's eyes shifted back and forth between each of their faces. There was the fair, strong-willed woman, who's blonde hair stopped at her shoulders, along with bright blue eyes that were glazed over with confidence. (1) And there was the dark woman who bloomed with straightforward authority and guile. Her appearance was different from the fair woman; her hair was cut short and thin and the back was jet black while her bangs were tresses of fiery red. (2)
"Katherine," Raven said to the fair woman, "Where are you coming from with that decision?"
The young pink haired woman pushed off of the wall and spoke up, "On the grounds that someone was murdered at Wilson and Co. and Wally says our prime suspect is Wayne Enterprises."
"Who is Wally?" the dark British woman asked.
"My husband, Detective West," Jenny held up her hand and twiddled her fingers, flashing the diamond on her third finger, "We've been through this before, Toni."
"Have we really?" Toni inquired, not having the slightest clue.
"Yes," Katherine clarified, "Detective West, he's partners with Detective Harper."
Toni looked at them with lost, questioning blue eyes.
Katherine sighed, "Roy Harper, Kori's husband."
"Kori?" Toni searched her mind, "Never heard of her."
"Kori, as in, my assistant who's on maternity league. She's been here long before I even hired you," Raven clarified, she took her seat in the leather chair behind her desk.
"We can continue this episode of "Who the Hell Are These People" later," Jenny lay her clipboard down and sat on the corner of the end table, "Wally told me that the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, as far as they know, was with the woman the day she was murdered."
"If that woman worked at Wilson and Co., its obvious she saw a lot of people," Raven replied, "Being present on the day of someone's murder, does not make you the murderer."
"He's a wealthy man with dirt on his shoes," Toni explained, "Society will torpedo his reputation, company, and even his net worth. He's a walking bull's eye for bad publicity for the slightest accusation."
"Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?" Raven asked, "I don't know this man, neither do any of you. It is not our place to judge and accuse. We're no greater than the scum that did take her life."
"But accepting this deal could tarnish Roth Inc.," Katherine explained, "People could lose their jobs, their homes. You're not a selfish woman Raven; I know you don't want that on your conscience."
"But you don't understand," Raven replied, "My father waited years to be given a fundraiser from Wayne Enterprises; and now there's one being handed to me on a silver platter and you expect me to turn it away?"
"I expect you to do what's best for this company," Katherine clarified, sympathetically, "We could fall under if this fundraiser is a dud and you know it."
Raven laced her fingers together and sat them on her desk. It would be her fault if the fundraiser was a fail because ultimately it was her decision. The burden would be too much to carry. Her reputation would be defiled, she would have no choice but to fire Toni. There would be no reason for she and the rest of the executives, the company would be under. She would lose her house, her children, and only God knows what Jason would do...
Katherine placed her hand atop Raven's and made eye contact with her, "Your father retired and left the company in good hands, Raven. He knew you had the heart and mind to run this company. I'm still here, he made sure of that. I'm your COO now, Raven; I'm here to help you. But you have to trust me."
Raven sighed and Katherine pulled her hands away. She knew that the entire deal was risky, but aren't all deals risky anyway? Or was this one just too much of a risk?
"Okay, I'll be sure to tell her. Thank you, Principal Gordon, have a nice day," everyone looked up as Jenny hung up her Bluetooth.
"Bryce?" Raven asked, hoping for a no, but Jenny nodded. She sighed and covered her face in her palms, the stress becoming overwhelming.
"He was in another fight," Jenny explained, "The Principal said he knows how busy you are so a conference isn't necessary."
"How deep is Bryce in this time?" Raven mumbled.
"The Principal said he and the Coach came to an agreement that the boys are off the team until they give reports on one another," Jenny replied.
Raven deeply exhaled, "It feels like the entire world is on my shoulders, girls," she ran a hand through her violet locks.
"And I think I have a solution," Toni spoke up, "Endorsements; your face, plastered on the front of every lavender scented bath product! Instant millions; done."
Raven let her hands fall to her desk, and she, Katherine, and Jenny all passed off the same questioning and annoyed look to the dark young woman who was seeing money signs.
"Raven has the weight of the world on her shoulders, and all you can come up with is lavender bath products?" Jenny rolled her eyes at the shallowness.
"Alright, alright," Toni sighed, "Maybe a little sympathy would be useful right now."
"Duh," Jenny breathed under her breath.
Katherine snickered and she saw Raven sneak a small smile upon her lips but she also noticed something else.
"Raven?" she furrowed her eyebrows and reached for Raven's wrist, "What happened here?"
"Oh," Raven observed the bruises on her wrist, "That was my fault. Uh, I got myself tangled into some wires while I was moving some things around in my office."
"You had to have gotten yourself really buried deep into the wires to leave these marks," Katherine reasoned, observing the bruises even closer.
"Yes, well," Raven quickly snatched her arm away and pulled her sweater down over her contusions, "There were a lot of them and my resisting only made them tighter."
"They were wires, not snakes, Raven," Katherine pointed out, and Raven had no excuse for that.
"Okay, well, let's stop interrogating Raven," the British woman suggested, "She signs all of our paychecks. Wires or snakes, fundraiser or no fundraiser, with a few white lies and a little deceit from the best publicist in the world, this will all play out in end, Raven, I promise." She smiled and placed her hand on Raven's shoulder, unaware that she was adding yet another burden for Raven to carry.
…
She sat at the head of the boardroom table, surrounded by her noble executives, Katherine, the COO, and the CFO, and the Executive Vice President, while she herself was CEO and President. It wouldn't be long before the collaborating company executives would arrive, and the meeting would begin.
She'd made her decision, and she did stand by it, but she couldn't help but feel a little doubtful over it. She was playing by pure logic and facts, not chance and hope, like her father. But chance and hope, the ability not to ponder over things and let them play out, was the foundation of the company; she couldn't let herself forget that, everything would crash and burn around her if she did. And it would be her fault, just like everything else that didn't go as planned.
"Raven," she looked up at the source of the sound that spoke her name.
A man stood in the doorway, immediately, she recalled who he was. The man now wore a full black suit with a white collared shirt and a deep blue tie, which accentuated his intense stormy eyes even more. His tan skin gleamed just as she remembered, and his spiky black hair was still distinguishing.
"Mr. Grayson?" she furrowed her eyebrows while she stood from the table and marched over to the door, "How are you?" she firmly shook his hand.
Rich ran his eyes over her; she wore a violet turtleneck sweater of cashmere, black slacks, and standard black high heels. And she was surrounded with an aura of alluring curiousness and gave his senses a great whirl.
"Better now that I know why your name sounded familiar," Rich replied, "You're Trevor's daughter; he and my father were good friends."
"And you, you're the CEO of Wayne Enterprises," Raven admitted, "Small world. I suppose we didn't fully meet each other after all. I'm Raven Roth, CEO, Roth Inc.."
"Richard Grayson, CEO, Wayne Enterprises," Rich shook her hand again.
"Very nice to formally meet your acquaintance, Richard," she gestured to the empty chair opposite of the end to where she'd previously been seated, "Please, take a seat, I just need a word with the COO; Katherine."
Her eyebrows furrowed and a questioning look upon her face, Katherine silently rose from the table and followed Raven outside the boardroom.
"What the hell, Raven? You know him?" Katherine uttered as they walked up the carpeted hallway, away from the door.
"I didn't know I knew him," Raven stressed, allowing her head to hang backwards as she massaged her aching temples.
"What? Is he a passed boyfriend or something?" Katherine question.
"No," Raven groaned as she swung her head back upright and shifted her weight over, "He's, Chase's dad."
Katherine furrowed her eyebrows, "Who's Chase?"
"The kid Bryce fought with," Raven replied.
"So what, the kid's dad gets his deal shut off; no harm, no foul," Katherine shrugged, not seeing what Raven was.
"Except Dad gets pissed and forbids his son from associating with the son of the witch who denied one of his big-named fundraisers, and flushed his reputation down the toilet," Raven explained.
"What makes you so sure he'd sink to that level?" Katherine questioned.
"He's an executive, we all play hardball," Raven replied logically, "And I know I had already decided to end this, but now it's personal, and my kids come first."
Katherine sighed and closed her blue eyes, "Alright, I understand."
…
The fresh sting of the outside Autumn air struck Raven as she left through the front doors of her building and stepped out onto the moist parking lot blacktop. She walked a short distance across the lot to her designated parking spot where her black Mercedes Benz was parked. But the space next to it, that usually remained vacant, was now the home of a flashy red Camaro.
"Let me guess," a voice gained her attention, and she turned to see Rich as he came up beside her, "That nice black Mercedes belongs to you."
"And this conspicuous but tasteful Camaro is yours," Raven assumed.
"Well, my kids insisted that I keep up with the latest trends and, well, I can't say no," Rich replied.
A realization flashed over Raven's face, and she massaged her temples as he briskly walked to her car, "Kids. It completely slipped my mind. I have to go pick up my daughter and I'm really late."
"Try tremendously late," Rich corrected, checking his wristwatch, "School let out some time ago."
"No, she's not at school," Raven clarified, opening her car door, "When the boys have a basketball game or practice, I'm supposed to go get her from..from uh, therapy."
"Therapy?" Rich quirked his eyebrow, "If you don't mind my asking, how old is she?"
Raven sighed, "Long story short, she's not the ordinary ten year old."
"Hey, who am I to judge?" Rich held his hands up, "But, yeah, you should really go get your daughter—um"
"Violet," Raven finished, and gave him a small smile, "It was nice seeing you again, Rich."
"You too, Raven, have a good day," Rich smiled back at her and shoved his hands into his pockets as she drove off, "Very nice, indeed," he added.
Leather soles prodded against hard pine wood floors as the five men strolled through the hall. Silk ties contrasted suede suits and merged with white-collar and supreme personalities. Professionalism was the overall atmospheric mood surrounding the speculated matter in question.
A hefty hand was placed upon his shoulder, he looked up to see who it belonged to and met the dark face of his right-hand man, Victor Stone. This bulky man called Vic towered above him about three inches, just as he always had. His brawny shoulders were square and he came off very intimidating, which was good, considering his occupation, a lawyer. But in actuality, it was hard to believe, but Rich had known him since kindergarten and knew for himself that Vic was a big softy. In the courtroom, there was a completely different man then there is in the outside world.
Since Vic was handed his diploma the day he graduated law school, he has been Rich's lawyer, the way it should be. Who was going to look after and take care of Rich better than his own best friend. Vic had been saving Rich's ass since high school, and nothing has changed, he still does. The only difference is that now he's paid to do it.
And to Rich's left, stood a miniature man with bleach blonde hair and bright blue eyes who's head barely reached Rich's shoulder. This man was a bloodsucking scoundrel that didn't give a damn about what anyone thought about him, which made him the perfect man for the job as Rich's publicist. Sid Case was an authentic southern man with a strong, distinctive accent. He gave his job a hundred and ten percent, bulldozing anyone who got in his way. Not many were fond of him, but Rich kept him around.
"As long as you cooperate, there will not be a problem, Mr. Grayson."
Rich glanced to his right and met the shinning, dark blue eyes of Wally West, better known as Detective West. He was smiling brightly and had a hand running through his unnaturally dark brown hair as he stuck the other out for Rich to shake. He gleamed with authority without the slightest bit of effort. He came off as a leader, and did his job with empowering and mighty tendencies that gave him mostly "rough around the edges" type of qualities. (3)
Next to Wally stood his partner in solving crime, Roy Harpor, with his hand out for Rich to take. Detective Harpor had a more stern expression upon his face, and his bright blue eyes had a natural soft look to them. He tried to come across as just as potent and independent as Wally, so that he would be seen as his equal, but he just didn't have the same raw domination character as Wally. He mostly had the appearance of a surfer boy, due to his messy, tousled dirty blond hair. (4) "Thanks for your time."
A smile slowly crept its way upon Rich's face at the formality of the man's tone, "After about ten years I was under the impression that we were on a first name basis, Wally. You too, Roy. What's up with you guys?"
"We're working," Roy replied, "And our Cap. is keeping a close eye on us because, apparently, one of us has a tendency to be very "insensitive", "violent" and has a "forceful" way of dealing with things."
It was obvious that Roy was referring to his partner, and after they all enjoyed their laugh, Rich suggested, "Do you think your Captain would mind if you came inside and said hello to the twins?"
"Sure," Wally replied, with enthusiasm, and Roy shrugged. Rich gestured to his right and pushed open two large double doors to reveal a rather large and palatial indoor gymnasium. Horsing around in a very playful manner with a basketball on the hard wood floor were Chase and his sister, Peyton Elizabeth.
"Peyt, Chase," Rich called them, "Look who's here to see you."
With the turn of her head, Peyton Elizabeth's flowing thick black ponytail whipped around and landed as a cascade over her shoulder, and she unbent her knees and stood straight up. Her eyes landed upon Detectives West and Harpor, her father, Vic, and Sid. The moment's loss of her concentration allowed Chase the chance to steal the basketball from her grasp, and he bounced it as he ran over to his father and company, and Peyton Elizabeth trailed behind.
"Sup Roy, Wally, Vic" Chase greeted them with their signature handshake, "Sid," he said to Sid, standoffish, receiving a annoyed look as a greeting from the southern man.
"Dad, Detectives, Mr. Stone, Mr. Case," Peyton Elizabeth acknowledged everyone formally and with a friendly smile, contrary to her brother.
"Peyton Elizabeth, I see you're still bringing home the wins with volleyball; front page Gotham City Times," Wally complimented with a wink of the eye.
"Well, you know.." she smiled and stayed humble.
"What about you Chase, and basketball?" Roy asked.
"Uh," Chase hesitated. Revealing to his father's high society friends that he had been kicked off the team was the last thing he would ever want to do. So he acted on his feet and changed the course of the conversation, "My game is just fine, but I think you left yours back in the 80s."
"Oh ho ho, sounds to me like someone wants to get their butt kicked in one-on-one," Roy hinted.
Chase sighed, "Come on, Roy, get real. Peyt could take you with one leg and half a brain."
"Two-on-two anyone?" Roy suggested, "So I can teach Mr. Chase here how we do it old school."
"Dad, you should join us," Peyton Elizabeth offered.
"Whoa whoa whoa, Rich," Sid spoke up, "An injury is the last thing you need right now with this big collaboration coming up. It'd be in your best interest to sit this childish little game out."
Rich pondered over the situation for a moment, "Yeah kids, I think Sid is right. I'd better sit this one out."
"But Dad-" Peyton Elizabeth interjected but was silenced when she opened her mouth.
"Now I know you like to be the little miniature Hitler at all times, Ms. Grayson," Sid intervened, "But for goodness sakes, show some respect, don't talk back to your father. Right now, you're not running anything but that mouth of yours. In fact, it'd be in your best interest to just keep that sucker shut. You're annoying little Miss Sunshine with your high society vocabulary to everyone but the man who helped bring you into this world in the first place, and now we all know that you're not, by a long shot, who you try to pass yourself off to be."
All fell silent as tension filled the air and thoughts filled their minds, everyone taking a different stance and having their own perspective. Vic, Roy, and Wally knew that if Peyton Elizabeth was their daughter, Sid would be out cold by now, but, she wasn't, and quite frankly, it was none of their business. Rich was aware that Sid was a little assertive with how he chose to handle the situation, and he was also not very fond of the tone Sid used with his daughter, but he held it in because Sid was the best publicist that money could buy, and he could easily replace Rich with one of his rivals.
Chase, on the other hand, saw how his sister's big blue eyes rimmed with tears and he didn't like it one bit. In fact, he hated it and his anger rose inside of him and he was not going to bite his tongue, "Hey, Sydney, don't talk to my sister like that you piece of trailer trash. I don't care if she slaps my dad halfway to hell and back, as long as that shriveled up excuse for a heart you have still beats, don't you ever talk to her like that again. Got it?"
Peyton Elizabeth sighed, "Chase, just stop."
"Don't let that bulldog mouth of yours overload your puppy dog ass, son," Sid stated with a smirk.
Chase was about to react but Peyton Elizabeth put her hand up, and he got her message, "Well," she sighed, and stared at the floor, concealing her now disheartened bright blue eyes, "It's been nice, but I have homework and such so..." she trailed off as she turned toward the door, "I'll get to it," she muttered before disappearing altogether from the gym.
"Don't let that door hitcha in the ass on your way out," Sid smirked again.
Chase watched his sister leave and turned and looked at Sid in disgust, "You're sick. Do everyone a favor and drop dead." And with that, Chase looked over at his father and shook his head, disappointed, before running from the gym after his sister.
Rich's eyes fell to the floor; he was disappointed in himself. He was a coward, a backboneless prick. He stood there and let a man, who's paycheck he signs, openly insult his little girl without a word.
He stood there for a moment, and let the situation replay in his head and his anger rose as his son's did and he was not going to bite his tongue again. "Sid, the next time you speak to my daughter—my children, the way you just did, I will personally make sure that the next job you have is bagging up dog shit in the park. And the name "Sid Case", will be an obscene term for "lowlife bastard whom fails at life". And don't tempt me, because you know I play hardball. Got it?" he stated in all seriousness.
...
Peyton Elizabeth was running at a full sprint to the complete opposite end of the mansion, to her bedroom. And even though she'd gotten a more than fair head start, Chase's full on sprint got him a mere distance from his sister in a short amount of time, but by then, she had finally arrived at her room. She shut the door behind her as he was coming around the corner, and when he reached her door, he placed his hand softly upon it, and heard the faint sound of the lock turn.
Chase cleared his throat, and paused before speaking in a sympathetic, gentle voice. "Peyt, please open the door," he asked, as the boy that seldom emerged from the hard, tough exterior that is the Chase everyone had come to know. But few knew the Chase that spoke in a voice with sincere tenderness, in words of empathy, when a pure heart beat in his chest. And all his negativity, and his controlling nature, transformed into thoughtfulness and genuine care.
He heard nothing.
He sighed, thick eyebrows knitted, and pressed his forehead against the cold oak wood, leaning his weight upon it with his hand. He didn't know why, but somehow, he knew that her forehead was against the door on the other side. It was like, now, he could completely feel the intense emotions radiating from her that he couldn't before. He didn't know what it was, but every time he was close to her, he could feel some sort of connection. He didn't know if everyone felt that way, or if it were some kind of strange "twin telepathy" magic.
"Peyt," he began, in a soft voice just above a whisper, "Don't listen to a word that douche said, do you hear me? You're a beautiful, wonderful person, and don't let anyone make you think otherwise. You're smart, and funny, and the nicest person I know. And you didn't deserve any of that. If could, I would have switched places with you and taken that crap from Sid, rather than having to watch you do it. You're my sister, Peyt, and I love you, and I'll do anything in the world for you, and I'll kick anybody's ass for you, but, if you tell anybody about this conversation, I will thoroughly deny it."
He paused and waited a few moments for her to respond. She said nothing, but he felt her turn her back to the door and slide down to her knees. He sighed, and pulled out his credit card from his wallet, and had half a mind to pick the lock, but then he heard her simply say, "Please, just.. leave me alone."
Chase deeply exhaled, and he knew that there was nothing he could say to reach his sister, so he obeyed. He left her to be alone.
On the other side of the door, Peyton Elizabeth could feel the absence of her brother's presence. He, and his always intense aura, were gone.
She sat there for a while, just staring straight ahead into nothingness, hearing not just Sid's words, but every wrong word ever said to her. "Weirdo" "Know it all" "Shadow"! they rang venomously through her ears, along with never ending laughter, "High Maintenance" "Giant" "Prissy" "Rich Girl" "Skinny Bitch" "Freak" "Teachers' Pet"!
She knitted her eyebrows as the very memorable surges of pain she endured as each word was seethed at her in the past, returned with vengeance. She felt the sting of tears forming in her eyes, but she held them back. She'd always been so weak, and was fed up with herself being such a damsel in distress all the time. It was time for her to be strong and take care of herself, like her father, he was the bravest person she knew.
She slowly stood, feeling all her anger boiling and festering inside her. It flowed through her veins like poison along with a pumping rush of her adrenaline. She went over to her vanity and glared at the girl who stared back at her with big blue eyes. She was so perfect; flawless skin, flowing hair, voluptuous body. And yet, not one person would look at her and see who she truly is, only who she appeared to be. Which was exactly as Sid stated, "annoying Little Miss Sunshine".
And Peyton Elizabeth would never be seen as anything more than a shallow, high maintenance little airhead beauty queen.
Feeling her emotions flaring, she drew back her fist, and threw it as hard as she could into the mirror, causing it crack and then shatter into millions of pieces. Her knuckles were torn and pearls of blood quickly became small rivulets, and rolled off her fingers. But she didn't care and the pain was unnoticed because she was so angry, that she was numb. But hadn't an idea of why she was angry.
She looked up, the tears that were rimming her eyes finally became so heavy that they fell and cascaded down her cheeks. She saw all the things that hung on her wall, lay across the table, and taunted her everyday. Notes from her piers, "We love you Peyt! Make us proud!", newspaper clippings of her "Following Her Mogul Father's Footsteps" and "Taking The World By Storm As The Only Female Grayson", stacks on stacks of letters from universities, and her trophy shelf, filled with awards from everything she'd ever participated in.
She gritted her teeth and began ripping all of the things off the wall, snatching her awards from the shelf and throwing them all into the trash. They meant absolutely nothing. No one cared that she could spike a volleyball, no one cared that she could ace a test, or carry a tune, or even save a few lives. They still thought the same of her, just the stuck up "Daddy's little Princess".
Peyton Elizabeth found herself stumbling back, being overwhelmed by the intense emotion and pain filling her entire body. She fell back against the wall and slid down to her knees. She buried her face in her hands, the warm crimson liquid flowing freely down her arm, and sobbed uncontrollably.
No one would ever know, or care to know, the real Peyton Elizabeth.
Upon stepping through the doorway of her home, Raven was hit by the overwhelmingly intense anger, knowingly from Jason. She glanced over at the grandfather clock which rested against the wall; she was almost a half hour late. She looked down at Violet; the sweet, prodigious child had an understanding look in her big green eyes. Even though Violet never said a word, or made any notion that she was even aware of her existence, Raven knew that the little girl perceived everything around her as well as anyone else could.
"Violet," Raven bent down to her height, "I want you to go on up to your room, okay? Bryce will be home soon with the dogs, and I'll be up in a minute." She waited until her strange, beautiful daughter had completely disappeared inside her room, before she conjured up enough courage and strength to get her legs to take her to her bedroom, where she knew Jason would be waiting for her.
She disappeared into the hallway behind the stairs, and at her door, Jason was casually leaning against the doorframe. He looked up, his eyes slowly trailing over her before settling at her crystal amethyst orbs. He could see the immobilizing fear hidden in her eyes, but she managed a fake smile through it, "How was your day, Honey?" she greeted him in an almost programmatic, forced way.
He sighed, and Raven saw a flash of crazed malevolence pass over his clouded green eyes before he simple stated "You're late," in his body numbing, cold voice.
"I'm sorry, Jason," Raven apologized, knowing it would be of no use, "The meeting lasted a little longer than I expected and—"
Jason held up his hand, signaling for her stop with her lies, "Who is he?" he inquired knowingly, his want for her to do something unforgivable, so he could have a reason, was slowly pulling him into madness, and he was halfway there.
"Jason, there isn't another man. I love you, so much," she said truthfully, "Don't you love me enough to trust me?"
Jason paused, thinking. She was right, he did love her, more than anything, that's why he had to protect her from the world. She belonged to him, and he had to keep her safe and disciplined like he would a beloved pet. "Why would you leave me here to worry about you?"
Raven slowly, but confidently approached him, a soft look in her eyes as she caressed his cheek, "I'm sorry. I feel terrible. I won't leave you again, I promise." She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, paused, waiting for a reaction from him, but when she received nothing, she started to move in towards his lips. Just as she was nearly there, she felt her hand which had rested upon his face, being constricted and crushed by a rough hand.
Raven pulled back, cringing, feeling her already brittle bones on the brink of breaking. But as soon as Jason freed her hand of his, he delivered a vehement slap to her face that forced her to the floor on impact. Raven panted heavily as she bled profusely from her nose and mouth, trying to get back onto her feet. But Jason grabbed her by the neck, lifted her completely off her feet, at least a foot from the floor, and slammed her into the wall.
He used his free hand to grasp her chin and force her to look at him, "Don't be late," he growled, before releasing her all together, and she fell to the floor at his feet, gasping for air.
He waited for her to catch her breath, before gently trying to stand her up. He snaked his arms around her waist and allowed her weak body to rest against his. Raven wrapped her arms around him, to support herself.
He strangely just held her in his arms, almost as if he really cared. He leaned down and placed tender kisses on her neck and cheek as he whispered, "I love you, Rachael, more than words can say. You're mine, love. Till death do us part," he squeezed her fragile, petite body tighter in his embrace, "I promise."
Silent tears rolled down Raven's face, and her blood transferred to Jason's shirt, "Clean yourself up, Rachael, put the kid to bed. Don't keep me waiting," he pulled back and let Raven stand on her own, but realized that her lip would definitely swell, "You're staying home tomorrow," he told her, and she nodded.
…
Raven awoke in the dark silence of her bedroom, and sat up in her bed. She pulled up the sheet up and pressed it against her bare, nude chest. She looked over at the sleeping figure of her husband and decided against taking a shower, and ridding her body of his essence, afraid she might wake him. But she tacitly got up and threw on a slip over her naked body, and silently strode into the main room. She reached behind her family portrait and obtained her small leather diary.
She carefully laid her aching body down on the couch, cast the lamp's luminous shadow across the room, and opened her diary to the next clean page.
Dear Diary, she wrote
How do two people, who once fit perfectly as one, become a separate piece with jagged edges that just, don't correspond? Instead, they pierce and stab as they constantly grind together, assaying to fit, but it just doesn't work.
As I sit here in the broken pieces of what used to be my marriage, my life, I realize that the steel walls I see surrounding my kids and myself are just inside my head. My yearning for my old life has become so unsustainable, that its created these unbreakable bonds, chains, to what used to be. And instead of pulling my family back to that nonexistent fantasy world, it's caging us inside this torturous hell; of which we now call life.
It seems like every time I say Jason's name, or see him, or touch him.. I get this rush of emotions. The greatest, want. Want for him to be the man that I married again. Love. It seems like no matter how hard he can hit me, I can't stop loving the idea of Jason. But at the same time, hate. This monster that stalks around and paves the road to hell for me, is what Jason became; and no words are powerful enough to describe the hate. And lastly, angst. A really deep, gut-wrenching feeling that sends chills down my spine that one day, Jason is going to destroy my entire world, mercilessly.
But the most solid, powerful feeling that I am never without, that haunts my every waking moment, has nothing to do with Jason. It's fear. A paralyzing, breathtaking fear. The fear that one day, my children will grow to resent me for all the pain I've caused them since the day Jason's anger drove him to raise his fist. I fear that Bryce and Violet will forget about me, want nothing more to do with their mother, because she stole their childhood, and made them see the cruel side of the world, much before they were ready.
As their mother, I'm supposed hold them when they cry, protect them from any harm, and be the one person who makes them feel safe; I'm supposed to be their solace. But my son has a choice to either to fend for me or watch me die, and my daughter won't even call me Mom.
I failed them.
One day, I hope they'll find the strength in their hearts to forgive me, but I know that I will never forgive myself. I can walk out of this hellhole and take them with me; never look back. But I choose to stay. Why?
Raven Roth
Raven closed the book, and gently laid her worried head down, and helplessly cried herself to sleep.
End chapter
(1) Katherine: Kitten
(2) Toni Monetti: Argent
(3) Wally West: Kid Flash
(4) Roy Harpor: Speedy
Okay, there you go! I'm so excited that I finally got my muse back, and I really do hope that you enjoy this. And I'm definitely getting somewhere with Challenge Day and Jump City High, so expect an update, later than sooner, it takes time people. But anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading this, I really do appreciate it a lot, and please please review and tell me exactly what you think. And I promise in the next chapter, something will actually happen.
Just curious: Who's your favorite character so far? Least favorite?
Till then,
-GothicPrincess
