A/N: Special thanks to demonpixie1 for this prompt "Oxygen". I decided to take a different twist on it and pull a two-fer out of it. I hope you all enjoy. It's slightly different from my usual style and it's kind of reflective. Two-fer as in one chapter is Raven's POV and one will be Robin's. I really like how they turned out, so I do hope y'all enjoy it.

Title: Breathing-Raven
Prompt: Oxygen
Pairing: RobinxRaven
Words: No idea... :P
Rating: T
Warnings: It's kind of between the lines, but it's there.

It wasn't that I couldn't breathe without him, it was more that it hurt too much to do so. I can stand behind him, I can run after his shadow. I can dip my fingers in the river of his legacy as I trail after him and I know that as long as I am close by, I know that I can breathe. I know that it will be alright.

I know that it won't hurt.

My heartbeat is as traitorous as the rest of me, because at the very sight of him, I can feel its pace quicken. I can hear the steadiness shift to something lighter, something almost reminiscent of a flutter.

That can't be right.

I am an empath of darkness and all things belonging to a realm that never touches the light. Yet, I am no longer content to linger in these shadows. I crave something that I should run from, I yearn for that which I could easily taint should it chose to embrace me, but still, I want it. I want it badly enough that I would trade the very air that I breathe.

Oxygen.

Life.

Death.

When I see him, everything about him speaks of the light within. From the way the sun shines upon his dark hair—darker than mine—but still, it shines. A cape the color of night and day, with colors of black and yellow, a suit of fierce reds and greens that demand his opponents see him and acknowledge the challenge. But when his eyes see me, I know that I am no longer invisible.

When I hear his voice, it is a whisper, just loud enough to be heard and just low enough to slip into my ears. From the tones when he is glad to the ones when he is sad, even those that are in between. I hear them all. I draw strength from his anger, I draw hope from his happiness and when I know his world falters, I cry the tears inside that I know he does not dare show this realm. But when he speaks my name, I know that I will answer.

When I touch him, our backs pressed together in the heat of battle, surrounded by those who play for keeps in this wretched game of good versus evil. I feel this strength and I feed off of it. I know the firmness behind me is the wall that will not crumble. When I can no longer stand, I can feel his arms around me before I can hit the ground. His hands are gentle and warmer than the sun. But when he brushes the hair and dirt from my face, I know that I will always give myself for him.

When the scent of sweat, blood and determination crowds into my senses, I know that he is near. His shadow appears before me, his voice rings out in the open and I can feel the faintest nudge from his foot as he steps over me to make his final stand. The scent of fear runs from him, the true hope surrounds him. There are no flowers, spices or vanillas that are strong enough to ever mask this part of him that I know intimately. But when he holds me in his arms, with my face to his neck, I breathe in every bit of it that I can—because it is all I need to draw myself back to the present—to stand and fight again.

When the day has ended and work is naught but a memory, I feel the first tendrils of my craving beginning. I know what the night holds for him, for me and I know that we will face it together. My nightmares are his and his are mine, but in the midst of the darkness tangling with us, we fervently search for each other. I touch him, hold him, hurt him and help him, all in the same moment as I share his bed. But when his lips capture mine, I hold him even closer, because the taste is bittersweet and I cannot get enough. To know what I know of him—and to know that only I know alone, I can breathe freely as I give myself entirely to him, knowing I am at his mercy.

For any one person to do this—to me—is criminal. But because it is him, I surrender, I will never give him up, because without him, I know that I cannot breathe.

Death. No, there is no death between us. Yes, he would die for me.

Life. He would die for me, but there is something deeper between us—deep enough that he would live for me, instead.

Oxygen. I do not have to breathe, because he is breathing for me.

Robin, I am yours, always—this powerful shade of darkness, I am the shadow to your light.

~*~*~Thanks for reading!~*~*~ Don't forget to leave comments/suggestions/prompts/whatever, I've got about three left. :P