9)
Front Page News
Three weeks. Strange how much could change in so short a time. Raven lay on her left side, eyes opening slowly. She yawned and with a grunt pushed herself into a sitting position, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She extended her right foot, feeling about in the darkness. Her toes connected lightly with something warm and furry. Instantly the fuzziness shifted to the side so she could plant both feet firmly on the floor. A soft, quizzical whine drifted from the darkness as the empath made her way to the bedroom door.
"Have to use the bathroom," she replied to the nonverbal question. Before she could reach the door it opened, her now constant companion taking on his natural state to usher her through after glancing about in the low lit hallway. Her lips parted to tell him he was being ridiculous, but closed them again. Caution seemed far more prudent these days.
They had argued for three days straight about his new intensity when it came to her well-being after the "present" came. She had insisted that she'd never really been in any sort of danger and his behavior was beyond extreme. Stubbornly he had stood his ground. Back and forth they went, fighting as loudly and viciously as they had when they'd both been new to the Titans and new to each other. They seemed nearly approaching a physical altercation when the second "gift" came. A dead raven, a purple ribbon tied about its neck. The poor, strangled creature had come in a bright green gift bag that had appeared just inside the entrance to the Tower. There wasn't a card as with the first package, but a local tabloid newspaper, the headline nearly as upsetting as the bird.
Naysayer Exclusive!
Titan Demoness' Absence Explained!
"Hero" Fulfills Demonic Destany
Due to Deliver Satan's Unholy Spawn on Christmas Eve!
Within days the letters began. Ugly, hateful notes addressed to Raven. Concerned demands addressed to Robin. Envelopes full of salt, holy water, and crucifixes became common place, the ignorant senders thinking these things could hurt the empath. Reporters and paparazzi showed up anytime the Titans were in the city, shouting questions. Gawkers frequented the ocean water as close to the Tower as they could get without being considered trespassers. Sometimes large pontoons would settle just beyond the little island, full of people. A man on a bullhorn would shout Scripture and prayers. They would shout about the end of the world and about repentance. Raven could no longer go to the Tower's roof to meditate. Someone had snapped a couple pictures of her, confirming her condition. A rather flattering picture of the girl in the lotus position hovering above the building began to appear everywhere. Despite how simple and innocent the picture honestly was, it was labeled as "proof" of the demon praying to her "unholy master". Robin had taken Beastboy off of patrols after an ill-fated incident with a live news feed and his liberal use of the f-word. Their leader had instructed the team to say nothing at all or "no comment" to all the questions the reporters shouted. And as a group they had done just that for two weeks. Until a pushy reporter had managed to shove a microphone into Beastboy's face as he made his way back from assisting with putting out a fire in an apartment complex. He'd saved two children and was singed and tired. He was in no mood for the shouting people that were keeping a respectable distance back from the group. And then the clearly artificially blonde woman was right in his path, shoving the silver microphone so close that it nearly touched his nose. Then she asked about the picture of Raven that had been circulating. She asked how long he'd known that she worshipped Satan. In that moment, something within him snapped. The overly perky news woman had no idea how close she'd come to being mauled. Instead of attacking her the changeling had answered her question in a way that was far too colorful for daytime TV. The tirade had been played over and over, his more vibrant words bleeped out.
"Are you that (bleep) stupid? It's called (bleep) meditation! A million (bleep) people (bleep) do it all over the (bleep) world! (Bleep) Lady! It's got nothing to do with (bleep) Satan! Read a (bleep) book!"
Robin had not been amused and had lectured Beastboy for two hours straight on upholding the Titan image and being above all else, a hero at all time while in the public eye. Heroes did not screech f-bombs at reporters, no matter how rude they were. Raven though couldn't help but feel pleased with the changeling. He was defending her instead of ignoring the accusations like the others did. It helped to soften the tension that had been developing between them. In the last week she had stopped fighting against his insistence to stay in her room at night. She said nothing about his constant presence and to her own surprise, she was glad he was there.
Silently he followed her in the form of a green German Shepard as she visited the bathroom and then went into the kitchen, pouring herself a large cup of apple juice. They sat together on the couch, both sets of eyes drawn to the lights of a boat, distant sounds of gospel music disrupting the night.
"It's chilly tonight," she told the changeling, who was now a serval, his tail twitching. "They have to be uncomfortable." His vocalization seemed as smug as a cat could sound and she sighed. "They're just afraid. People are afraid of things they don't understand."
"Then they should try harder to understand," he replied after relaxing back into his natural form.
"The world has never worked that way Gar." She pulled her eyes away from the window, curling her legs beneath herself and turning sideways. "I don't want to think about it," she told him as his mouth opened, resentment wafting off him. He felt betrayed. They'd spent years protecting Jump City only to have its citizens turn on them.
"I don't either. It's just hard to think of anything else."
"Give me your hand," she commanded softly and he complied, setting his bare hand in her own. Raven guided it to the left side of her growing middle, pressing his palm firmly against the mound. "Do you feel it?"
"Yeah," he replied dreamily, pressing a bit more firmly. Beneath his hand he could feel the slight movement of his child. His smile grew and he laughed lightly. "Bug sure is squirmy."
"Especially at night," she told him with a slight nod. "Or maybe I'm just more aware of it when I'm still."
"Could be." His ears twitched, hearing the feedback of a bullhorn turning on. That meant it was exactly three in the morning. The "godly man" that was always shouting at ungodly hours seemed to think three a.m. held some magical, negative connotation.
"The devil's hour is upon us . . . pray with me brothers and sisters as we . . ." Raven's head turned slightly at the sound. She wasn't able to hear the words, though the sound was enough to let her know the preacher was preaching again. Gar was shaking his head at whatever was being said and she lay her hand on top of his, drawing his attention again.
"Think of your mother for me," she requested and he nodded eagerly. Though Raven had been less than receptive to his idea of talking out feelings, she had begun to request he do so in the last week. It gave her something to focus on other than the negative cloud of emotion hovering over the city.
"I'm thinking about . . . how my mom would read to me at night. Every night she sat with me in my bed and read." Happiness, love, and contentment radiated from him at the memory. "She read for pleasure a lot . . . like you Rae. She read and I'd come curl up close beside her and ask what she was reading. I know it had to bother her sometimes, but she always took the time to tell me a little about her book." Happiness mellowed slightly and a wistful longing took the place of contentment. "I miss that. I'm thinking about . . . now I'm thinking about how much you make me think of my mom sometimes. I'm thinking about how I wish I knew how to . . . how not to bother you . . . how to ask just right so you would want to share what you're reading with me just like she used to." Wistful had turned into longing and he sighed. He always let his thoughts flow naturally, allowing one thought to lead to the next. "I'm thinking about how you'll probably read to Bug. That idea makes me so happy." She felt his happiness swell again, enough to make her own heart speed up slightly.
"I will read to Bug," she confirmed and affection joined happiness.
"I'm going to sing to Bug. I'm remembering how Rita would sing to me. She didn't know any lull-a-byes so she would sing whatever she liked. I'm thinking about how she made me feel so safe . . . so safe after I thought I'd never feel safe again." He felt a very similar love for Rita as he did for his mother. It was not exactly the same, but it was certainly no less. "Do you know any lull-a-byes Rae?"
"No, I learned chants as a child . . . I wasn't sang to." She expected to feel sadness or pity. She expected sympathy or maybe even mild anger at those who had raised her. Instead a complex mixture of emotion that included none of these things rose from him. It was powerful enough that she found herself shifting her body weight. She intended to lean back, but somehow he was like a magnet and she found herself tilting slightly forward. "What are you thinking?" She asked, her usual monotone slipping a little so that he could hear the nervous uncertainty in her voice.
"I'm thinking . . ." he leaned forward as well and sighed loudly. His breath caressed over her skin and gooseflesh rose on her arms. "I'm thinking about how I want to sing to you Raven."
"That can't be all you're thinking," she said in a whisper when he added nothing more. Again his warm breath brushed past her face, this time in the form of a chuckle.
"It can be," he told her.
"Singing doesn't make anyone feel . . . so much."
"What I'm feeling has nothing to do with singing." Closer he leaned, like he was going to whisper a secret. "What I'm feeling has everything to do with you Rae."
"What about me?" She whispered back and he chuckled again, the sound deeper and richer than it had been a moment before.
"You're so innocent." A new emotion joined the already jumbled collection, this one easier to label. Desire. Raven was familiar with this emotion. Desire was a common emotion, one she felt from the random people she encountered and from her team mates. It was a jagged, hot emotion that Starfire and Robin often shared. Garfield's desire was different than any she'd felt before. It had an edge to it that she couldn't help but define as animal.
"I . . ." she wasn't sure what she wanted to say. A part of her mind was telling her body to lean away, but some conflicting and stronger piece of herself kept her still, even as the changeling let his nose touch her's softly.
"Now I'm thinking that I'd really like to kiss you Rae." He paused for a long minute, his eyes slipping shut. "I won't though, not right now. You're afraid."
"I'm not afraid," she murmured, not sure why she was arguing. She was afraid, afraid of what would happen and what it would mean if she let his lips touch her own.
"I smell it," he told her gently, shaking his head so that his nose rubbed against her own. He shifted so that his forehead pressed lightly against her's. "And that isn't the scent I want you to make when I kiss you." He felt her forehead crease slightly under his own in confusion and he chuckled again. "So innocent." Raven pulled away a little now so she could see his face in the low light. His emotions had shifted again and she was struggling to understand. Desire and longing were still there, but contentment had somehow returned in equal measure. It made no sense to her.
"How is it possible to feel so much want and yet feel utterly content at the same time?" She had not planned to ask the question aloud, but it somehow tumbled from her lips.
"I'm a pretty complex guy," he replied, smiling brightly. "Honestly though, why wouldn't I be content? We're sharing something . . . a moment that I would have thought was impossible just five months ago. Actually . . . a month and a half ago I would have thought it wasn't possible." His thumb rubbed lightly at the taunt middle it was still pressed against. "You took my hand and put it here Rae."
"Just to feel the baby move."
"I know, but you didn't hesitate. Do you remember the first time I tried to touch your belly? How you pulled away? We've come so far since then." He made an odd sound, somewhere between human and animal. "I can't help but be content even in moments when I catch myself wanting more. That's how I can feel both things at exactly the same time."
"You're the embodiment of chaos," she told him softly, the words nearly playful.
"Like I said, I'm a complex guy."
"I'm ready to go back to bed," Raven said after a moment, pulling away from him and standing. She stretched, her pale hand moving to cover her mouth as she yawned.
"Me too," he agreed, returning her yawn with one of his own. Together they walked back to the bedroom wing of the Tower. Silently they slipped back into the empath's room. Raven settled in her bed again, pulling the blanket up over her shoulders. Her eyes closed and then opened again a minute later.
"Gar?"
"Yeah?" He asked from his place on her floor.
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, but . . ." she began before trailing off, sighing softly.
"But?" Beastboy prompted after the silence had stretched out too long.
"I don't like the idea of you sleeping in the floor from now until the baby is born. You aren't a dog."
"I am sometimes."
"Anyway . . . you can . . . sleep in the bed. Just so long as you behave." A second later he pounced from the floor to the bed, making the mattress bounce.
"I won't make you regret it Rae!" He promised happily, slipping under the blanket with her. Though he hadn't said anything, he wasn't a fan of sleeping on her cold, hard floor every night. He flopped about rather dramatically for a moment, getting comfortable and Raven grunted in irritation. He stilled eventually, reaching out a hand to lightly sooth over her arm. "Night," he told her, pulling his hand back to tuck it under his pillow.
"Goodnight."
