Well, my small audience, here's chapter four. I really need to start planning this stuff out—mostly because if I don't I'll just drop it and never come back to it.
So, I'm not really sure when I want to present Raven into the story (as more than just a cheesily-written voiceover). I know you guys want to see Raven, but these things take time. So for now I'll give you another voiceover plus whatever comes out as I'm writing.
A/N: I think I'll introduce chapters with quotes and/or song lyrics from now on.
I'd also like to point out that Slade is not technically 'good' at the present time. He sees helping the titans as a means to an end. He gives them information, and they make sure he's left alone…for the most part. He does, however, enjoy provoking them from time to time. Robin/Nightwing/Richard's return probably just made his year.
DISCLAIMER: *sigh* I don't own TT, or any of its characters.
"In a profound sense every man has two halves to his being; he is not one person so much as two persons trying to act in unison. I believe that in the heart of each human being there is something which I can only describe as a "child of darkness" who is equal and complementary to the more obvious "child of light." —Laurens van der Post
When it comes to all things 'superhero', scaling rooftops is pretty cliché. However, if you can't go under and ground level presents a bit of a problem, sometimes up is your best bet.
I had to find a way back to 'base' before sunup. Why?—because I'd been sighted, and by a contact of Slade no less. I couldn't have made a worse screw-up if I'd tried.
One Azarath, two Azarath, three Azarath—I counted each roof ahead, trying to pinpoint when I would be done. This would be so much easier if I could levitate. I thought, but deep down I knew that even that would be a dead giveaway.
"I'm getting paranoid," I whispered as I clutched the folds of my cloak, "paranoid and frostbitten."
I briefly considered stopping by to see Slade, just to thank him for tipping off the boys. Maybe even convince him to let me crash there until Robin and Starfire left. I'd stayed the night before, on very carefully written out conditions, and things had worked out just fine.
"Hey, sweetheart."
I started round so quick that I fell back against a generator.
"X," I hissed, "what are you doing up here?"
"I could ask you the same thing. Don't you know tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum are back in town?" he asked, holding out a gloved hand. I batted it away.
"Don't you know you shouldn't be wandering around after dark? We don't have the same arrangement as you and the titans." I reminded him.
X shrugged. "So sue me—actually don't. I'm out of cash."
"A thief out of money—oh, whatever he will do?"
"Look, there's no need for sarcasm." He mumbled as he perched on the generator.
I wasn't one for exchanging pleasantries with X. I already had enough problems, and I didn't need him to add to them. "Did you come up here to actually tell me something or do you want to chat?" I asked, hands on hips.
"I could do either," he said, probably grinning under the mask, "your 'house' is under surveillance."
Oh joy. "How do you find out? And who—Slade."
"You got it," he chuckled, "the minute 'Mr. Stone' and bird brain left, his creepy butler just happened to leave me a message on my answering machine. Slade's contact noticed something about your exit and they somehow managed to figure out the entry point."
"From a story?"
"I think he got a little more than just a story—he might have even received a tape, but I figure he got rid of it before those two came over."
"Did he say anything else?"
"Yeah, his elevator is temporarily out of order."
"In other words his place is off limits." I muttered. That screwy old bat—I should have known better than to count on someone who'd made a living off of messing with people's lives.
I ran a hand through my violet strands as I tried to formulate a plan. It's starting to get really long again. I wonder if I should cut it…
"If you need a place to stay, my door's always open." X interjected after a bout of silence. I looked at him for a second before releasing another sigh.
"I'd rather be locked up in a room with Plasmius…but in this case I probably don't have a choice. Just let me grab a few things and we'll go." I replied, feeling like I'd just chucked a bone at a bulldog.
"It's a date."
A juvenile bulldog.
[...]
"It's not much—"
"—but it's home. Yeah, I got it."
The apartment wasn't small, luckily. There was enough space for the both of us and two separate bedrooms. Big plus.
X dumped his key in a bowl by the door and while my back was turned he peeled off his mask. I was honestly shocked. Granted, I knew someone was there beneath the fabric, but I didn't think he'd be willing to show me.
I wasn't surprised that I didn't recognize the face—gray eyes, dark hair, fairly ordinary features. Don't get me wrong, he was handsome, but I just didn't notice things like that anymore.
"You really were an ordinary thief weren't you—before?"
He nodded, "Yep. I got lucky. The bathroom is just over there and the fridge is stocked—for now. As I said before, I'm broke. You wouldn't happen to have any money?
"Yes, but if I helped you out, they'd notice. After all, don't you steal to get by?" I asked, taking a peak out of the curtains.
"Yes. And no," he said with a shrug, "I'm also an adrenaline junkie."
"Figures." I chuckled.
He showed me to my room and I began to unpack what little I'd taken with me—wallet, books, street clothes, pictures, etc. I hung my cloak up in the closet next to a little black dress, which probably did not belong to his sister (or any other kind of female relative).
After a quick shower, I changed into a black tee and sweats and we ate dinner—fettuccini alfredo and chicken. I passed on the wine.
"So, the Underground, huh? What's it like?"
I looked up from my plate, "Dirty, decaying, grimy. You're not missing anything, trust me."
"Well if it's not the scenery, you had to have gone down for something."
"That's none of your damn business, X."
"I'm just trying to figure you out, Rae."
"Don't call me 'Rae'. I hate that. It's a nickname for Rachel," I snapped, taking another bite, "And I guarantee if you go down that road, you won't like what you find."
"Somehow I doubt that." He leaned over the table on his elbow, with a wicked grin and gleam in his eye. I had a feeling that he'd done this before, had developed a method. And I had to admit I wasn't entirely immune to his efforts, he had something, but this wasn't about me. Or him.
So, I leaned away, "Don't push it."
He laughed, and sat back down, "Whatever you say. Hey! You know, Rachel could be a cover name for you. What was your mother's maiden name—Roth? Rachel Roth. It could work."
I shook my head. "We don't have surnames on Azarath. 'Roth' is like a title. It's the Azarian word for 'white'." [A/N: I made that up, just for future reference.]
"Yeah, but who would know? Besides, you haven't really been 'Raven' for years." He pointed out.
I nodded, but didn't respond. He was right. And I hated that. After a long, awkward pause I finished what was left on my plate, washed the dishes and went off to my room.
I crawled into bed, pulling the cotton sheets over my head, and sighed as my head hit the overly soft pillow. Haven't been 'Raven' for years.. I was Raven, I thought, I wondered when I stopped…
[...lull...]
The sun was a little too bright for his liking.
"I could have sworn I pulled those curtains together last night." Rich mumbled. He pulled the pillow over his head, but no matter how hard he tried little cracks of blinding light kept peeking through. He resolved to dive under the pink covers.
"You did, and they stayed that way for the whole night, but it's past noon." His girlfriend chided.
He grumbled something and flipped over on his side. Kori sighed, "You used to be a morning person."
"I used to run around in traffic light colored tights. Things change." He replied. Kori grabbed his shoulder and yanked him over. His eyes reluctantly met her green gaze.
"Victor told me where you two went."
He sighed, "I swear it was just a detour. I just wanted to see Dr. Light in his straightjacket."
"I meant the warehouse. What did Slade say about Raven?"
"She was seen in the Underground. "
"And that's all?" Kori growled, "No notes, no location—nothing?"
"If I knew more, I would tell you more. All I know is that cotton candy, Slade, and a deranged convict do not make a good Saturday—or whatever day this is…I've lost track." Rich replied, barely able to keep his eyes open, "How was your day?"
"It was interesting enough. Karen and Terra took me to a local market. It was awful," she laughed, "but I found this." She pulled the necklace out of her bedside drawer and dropped it in his palm. "What do you think?"
"It's…it looks like something Raven would wear." He said, turning it over in his hand.
She nodded, "I was thinking of giving it to her if I ever had the chance. I think she'd like it."
"She'd go crazy over it."
"You think so?"
"Well, it's not pink or fuzzy. The only thing that could make it any better was if it were blue." He mumbled before handing it back.
"I didn't think of that." She laughed. Kori put it away safely and gave him a kiss before leaving the room.
She still didn't close the curtains though.
[...]
The rest of the week went on without a hitch or a snag. Everyone was getting along fine, though they could feel the nostalgia wearing off. Perhaps even though each person had grown, they had grown into people that could still fit together like puzzle pieces.
But there was still a piece missing.
Raven had been sighted, officially for the first time, well, ever. That meant that in some part of the city at any given time she was out there. It meant there was hope, even if was from the mouth of a criminal.
That part still bugged Rich. He didn't like relying on bad guys—especially not Slade or any of his goons. He'd had his fill of that before. However, given the situation he didn't have any other options.
"So where do we go from here?" he wondered.
"I don't know, man. Slade said he'd been in touch if he heard anything. All we can do is wait." Vic replied, leaning up against the wall.
"That's all?"
"We've tried everything else. I know you don't like it, but he's our best bet."
"I'm not a gambler," Rich replied, "I like to look before I leap."
"When are you going to accept the fact that sometimes all you can do is sit on your hands and wait before things get done?"
"Maybe when we find her…I think I'll go out tonight and wander around that 'area of interest'. I know we went over it before, but maybe we missed something. It couldn't hurt." He said with a shrug.
"Just be careful. There are more than bugs and owls out there."
"Right—the Underground?" Rich asked.
"Only a few ever come out at night, but thanks. Now I'll be worrying about that too."
His friend laughed, "I'm a big boy, Vic."
"Yeah—a big boy that still runs around in tights."
[...]
Under the guise of Nightwing, being a superhero was in some ways a lot more fun. He wasn't regarded as a side-kick or the side-kick stepping up. He was a hero in his own right.
So he deserved the right to not be mocked about his costume anymore. "Boy who runs around in tights, my foot." He muttered.
The 'area of interest' was a slew of abandoned apartment buildings. Most of them were made of brick, probably built in the sixties or seventies. It was hard to find a single window that hadn't been broken in or completely removed—all save for one building.
In this building, farthest from the left, all the windows were in perfect condition. There were no signs of a break-in, but at the same time it didn't look like anyone lived there. Why hadn't he noticed this before?
After slipping inside, he took a look around. There weren't any pictures or paintings. No furniture either. However, in the fireplace there were remnants of a fire. Someone had definitely been here. After searching the rest of the floor and then upstairs, he started pulling up floor boards.
And he found what he was looking for—or at least what he could have been looking for.
Hidden beneath the boards of the third floor bedroom was a tattered blue cloak, and beneath it a matching white one. He smiled as he curled the familiar fabric around his gloved hand. The color was lighter than he remembered, even under the glow of the moonlight streaming in from the window.
He pulled the other boards up and bit by bit he found a whole life hidden beneath the wooden floors. He found her old communicator—dismantled and beyond repair. He found torn up uniforms and Malchior's book (which had a hole that he could stick his arm through); although the collection was mostly stuff from the past, it served as a marker.
It meant that Raven had been here. She might have even lived in this building. The fire suggested she might have been there the day before.
"So where are you now?" he wondered aloud, though he knew no one would hear him.
After a moment of silence, he put everything back under the boards—except for her cloak and communicator. Those he would need as 'evidence'. He carefully put the wood panels back in place and hopped up in the window.
It was then that they saw each other.
It took a while before his brain could process what was going on. For a moment he wondered if he was dreaming, but nonetheless it was her; purple locks and all—they were longer than he remembered, and maybe even a darker color, almost black. It probably helps her blend in better, he thought. Unlike her hair, her eyes were the same violet they had always been. She was dressed in street clothes—a navy sweater and dark wash jeans.
He could tell she was surprised to see him too. She probably hadn't been expecting anyone to show up here, let alone him…and he was holding her cloak to boot.
Neither of them spoke, or moved. They just froze there, she on the ground and he in the window, just staring at each other for one indefinite awkward moment of silence. Finally he managed to move his legs, and he slid down the rain gutter.
His feet hit the ground with a soft thud and suddenly the whole scene changed. They were on the same level, within walking distance of each other for the first time in a decade. She had changed. He had changed. But while he had a million questions, she just wanted to get the hell out of there. Why hadn't she gotten the hell out of there?
He took a step closer. And then another step, and then another. He didn't stop until he was about three, maybe three-and-a-half feet away from her. He was tempted to go further, but he didn't want to push her. This wasn't how he was hoping to meet, true, but he was glad to see her at all. Why wasn't she glad to see him? If anything, she looked scared, but not of him. It was if she was scared to stay, but why?
The wind blew through the trees with an eerie howl, not a soft whisper. Her dark locks swayed in rough, jagged movements. After more silence, Richard found his tongue. Before he could say a word, she had worked up a spark of black energy. He watched as it danced and swirled around her.
And then she was gone.
Well, folks that's all for now. You probably hate me right now, but hey, you asked for a meet and I gave you a meet. I just didn't say anything in particular would happen.
Now, I don't intend to string this whole Raven-not-being-there thing out until the end of the fic. It just isn't time yet, for me and for her.
This chapter is also a bit shorter than the others, as I've been saying every single time, but this time it's true…by four hundred words (including the responses to reviews, opening and closing statements, etc). Sorry! Also, I need ideas. Feel free to leave ideas in your reviews. Really. Feel. Free.
R2Rs (Responses to Reviews):
TheDreamChaser—I like the whole Slade thing too. He's my favorite villain of the series and it would be a crime not to include him. As for the latter, I gave you two out of three. I'll have to hold out on the third one.
luna827—Well, she's been in and out of different places over time. The mystery won't be solved for a little bit, though. So hold on!
RxRFannnnn—Yes, Slade, woot! *chuckles* Well, here they are, 'reunited' and then de-'reunited'. I suck, don't I?
mydarkh3art—villains helping the good guys has been a popular topic, hasn't it? Well, I put the meeting in as per EVERYONE'S request, but I'd like to preserve the 1st POV for Raven. The whole symbolism with these different points of view is that she is set apart from the group. She isn't a part of the collective thought, shrouded in a bit of mystery unless we switch to 1st POV to give us insight into her life. And yes, I just realized that I was doing that.
I really hope you appreciated this—I worked on this for about six hours straight. The only thing that keeps me going while writing these chapters are your reviews and my music. I need more of both. Please, please, please, R&R, and pass this story onto to people you want to see this. Please.