Lots and lots of love for my reviewers, and the ones that kicked my arse into gear.
A/N: I know.. I know. I'm really, really sorry :(.
But as you are about to read in this chapter, my life is one giant mess - not in a bad way. Just in a Idon'tknowwhat'sgoingon kind of way. Hopefully routine kicks back in from now on.
Disclaimer: Don't own the Titans.
Please R and R. I love reviews :).
Enjoy!
Reconcile
Chapter Fourteen: Longing.
He could feel it pop out – swiftly sliding out and disconnecting from the joint. The weirdest feeling for just a mere millisecond. Then it all changed. Pain was searing down his arm, down his back and across his chest. His body physically crumpled slightly as a loud and painful huff escaped his mouth, letting most of the air in his lungs escape. He grimaced, the pain already agonizing. He tried desperately to suck in some more air, but it wasn't enough. He swept his injured arm up with his other, cradling it against his chest. It was like he had just been punched in the gut, leaving him winded. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, trying to focus on getting more air into his lungs. It wasn't working. He quickly snapped his eyes open, remembering that he was still working. Right. His lungs continued to struggle to obtain more air, causing him to explode into a chain of bark like coughs. The pain in his shoulder was bearable.. for now – and he had an abnormally high pain threshold.
Tears stung his eyes as he looked to the last thug – if you could call it that. It was some sort of highly advanced robot. He coughed again, feeling the tears threatening to spill. It kind of looked familiar, but he couldn't place it. It was sleek and black, with highlights of silver metal decorating its upper chest like an old Egyptian neck piece, and two asymmetrical stripe like lines going from it's neckpiece down its torso to both its feet. It did have two sleek white slits as eyes, but X had blown half of its robotic head to smithereens, leaving only one slit now. He was surprised it was still functioning. He had probably only missed a major circuit by a mere millimetre. It jaggedly crouched, arms outstretched, obviously preparing for an attack.
X raised an eyebrow underneath the mask, slightly irritated. It was starting to frustrate him. He had been through eight of these bastards already and they weren't exactly easy things to take down. They were tedious and somewhat intelligent. The bot was coming for him, at quite a pace too. Quickly, X stumbled back, trying to think of something off the top of his head that wouldn't aggravate his already stressed body. He was running out of toys, especially ones that didn't require too much movement, now that he had on arm out of action.
The bot had launched himself off the ground and into the air. His mind panicked. What toys did he have left? Line. Knife. Pistols – ineffective. Electric disk – Electric disk! His good hand instantly slipped to his utility belt, letting his injured arm flop tenderly to his side, his face grimacing at the pain underneath his mask. Within a moment, his arm was spread out into the air fully flexed. A small sleek disk cut the air, landing firmly on the chest of the bot. A second later, he could hear and see the sparks of electricity pulsating through the bots body. It halted mid-air, swan diving head first into the pavement in front of him, the metal of its frame scraping awkwardly against the concrete. The whites of its eyes slowly died, fading to black.
He huffed, relieved. He swept his injured arm up again, pressing it against his chest. He stepped forward towards the bot cautiously. Anger boiled inside him suddenly. Swiftly, he switched his weight to his left foot as his right foot backed into the air behind him. With as much force as he could muster, he thrust his foot forward in to the side of the bots face. It went airborne, crashing into the brick wall behind it. It crumpled to the ground into a sickening position, too awkward for any human to pull.
A growl escaped his throat, a mix of frustration and pain. Who made these things? Why were they here? What did they want? He looked from his latest target to the other bots, scattered across the pavement, all down the long and hidden back alley behind him. Their robotic parts had been ripped, torn and shredded into pieces. However the remains of only four bots were located in the same alley X was standing in. The others were smashed and strewn across various locations they had battled over the past fifteen minutes. The adrenaline was dying down; the throbbing pain in his shoulder was becoming excruciating now. He needed help. He snorted, somehow hoping that would help, distract him or do something for this pain. His free hand awkwardly went to his ear, struggling to still support his shoulder in the stoop that had been created by his uninjured arm.
The pressure of his forearm pressing against his injured arms wrist made the hidden digital clock on his wrist glow white. 2.47am. He licked his teeth noticing the numbers. He was pissed, partly because one of the bots had pretty much dislocated his shoulder, partly because it took him sixteen minutes to take nine robots down.
His index finger touched the edge of his lobe outside the fabric of his suit. "D," was the all that escaped his mouth.
Instantly, the ring tone of his communicator began.
Ring, ring, ring, ring…
He sighed. His partner was becoming more and more unreliable these days.
Ring, ring, ring, ring…
"Fucking hell, David," he cursed angrily, pressing his lobe again, hanging up.
It looked like he'd have to find another way home.
888
He ripped off his mask with his good hand. The mask squelched between his digits, as the same arm scooped up the other, cradling it. He winced, feeling the small movements aggravate the pain in his shoulder. He kicked the door lightly with his steel toed boot, once then twice. His face twisted into a snarl as the pain began jolting down his arm. He paused, trying to hear for movement behind the door. Nothing. With a grunt, he kicked the door multiple times, with much more force.
"For fuck's sake, David!" his voice was gravelly and booming. It was lucky his friend owned the whole floor of the apartment building.
He gritted his teeth, the pain intensifying. His eyes squeezed shut as his forehead hit the door with a thud.
There was a faint crash behind the door. Movement. His head instantly left the wooden door, eager for the man's appearance.
He could finally hear his friends' voice resonate behind the wood. "What the fuck is wrong-" the door was pulled open.
His friend was dressed merely in a pair of silk batman boxes. If it weren't for the situation Jason was in, he would be all over the ironic piece of clothing. His toned body was exposed, and like Jason, it was covered in scar tissue.
David's tired blue eyes changed to serious instantly suddenly registering that Jason was dressed in his uniform at the front door roof his apartment. "What happened?" The question was blunt and commanding. This was only the third this had happened in their five year partnership.
The maskless vigilante pushed his way past David with his good shoulder. "I've dislocated my fucking shoulder!" The reply was agitated. "I tried calling you!"
The dirty blonde haired man stumbled into the large and modern lounge, looking for something to sit on. The large sweeping black leather couch in front of him was his first choice.
"Lay on the," the door slammed, followed by a loud click, "coffee table," David finished his command.
The black suited man's eyes scouted the room, the pain distorting his attention and vision. There it was, a few metres from the couch, long, wide and made of glass. Before he could even attempt to leap over the couch, he could feel David grip the back of his suit, going for the invisible zip hidden underneath two layers of black fabric. Quickly, the zip was yanked downwards, exposing his bare back. David was then in front of him, reaching over the blonde's shoulders to grab the back of his uniform. His face was tense, concentrating hard.
Once his friend had hold of the two flaps of fabric, he looked him in the eye. "Okay, Jase," he warned, his voice cautious. Jason let out a long and huffed breath of air. His eyes slid closed. The fabric was yanked over his shoulder, jerking it only slightly. He grimaced, but didn't exhale. The pain wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He opened his eyes and David was already leaping over the couch, heading for the glass table. The tight black suit still clung to his body, the uniform to his waist hung sloppily down in front of him. He scrambled over the couch, one armed.
He slipped onto the coffee table, his bare back arching slightly at the coolness of the glass. David was already there beside him, the saddened smile on his face somewhat comforting. He knew what he was doing, so did Jason. They had done this many times. David was in a lunge, one knee on the carpeted floor. He gripped his partners forearm, ready.
888
He blinked for the 28th time that minute. He was staring at his laptop screen, sitting in front of him on his sleek black desk. It was late – or early, whatever. He looked to the digital clock on the bottom right hand corner of his screen. 6.28am. He blinked again. He hadn't slept. He should've been dead to the world with all the drugs he had pumping through his system. However, the opposite effect had taken place. Instead of heading home and rolling around in the large king size bed, he decided that going home and decoding the robotic mystery of a few hours prior would be more beneficial. However, drugs and logical thinking weren't a good mix. A word document with three words: Highly Intelligent Robots – in italics of course, and one window of internet explorer were the outcomes of his sleepless night.
He refreshed the internet page again with a double click of his wireless mouse. Finally it changed. He had to blink, twice and then move his face closer to the screen. finally had a new headline.
Return of the Titans.
He swallowed, the picture finally making sense to him. It was the Titans alright. Nightwing stood dead centre, as always, Starfire to his left and then Beast Boy. Cyborg was on his right and then, Raven. His lips rose into a soft smile. She looked how he remembered in that suit. Serious and dark with a twist of sexy. That was something that he never noticed, until she saved his life. The smile dropped off his face instantly. His eyes shifted into soft focus, thoughtful. The images blurred as he squinted slightly. He wished he had taken more notice of her back then. If he knew then what he knew now, both of their lives might have been easier. Maybe not easier, considering their livelihoods, but maybe, at least, different. He shifted his weight slightly forward, signally a change of thought quickly. But he was young, brash and stupid. All he wanted was fame, riches and bitches.
His eyes snapped back into focus, looking straight at her slightly pixelated portrait. She was caught without her hood on. Her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulder with her matching eyes smouldering, without giving anything away. Her cloak covered her petite frame, making her somewhat camouflaged to the grey background of battered buildings and debris behind her.
He sighed, letting his gaze drop. He reached for the sling supporting his arm, readjusting it slightly with a tug to the right. He wasn't entirely sure why he did that, maybe to try and distract himself from this weird mood he had suddenly found himself in. He looked back to the bright screen. She was still there, giving off that same sensual look, always without meaning to.
Something niggled at him. He was positive it was something he would never often admit to. He never really had to because she was always around, always attending to him, always here. He missed her. A whole lot too.
His good hand went from the mouse to his iPhone, next to the laptop.
His thumb quickly rushed across the metaphoric keys.
Congratulations, heroine.
He let his phone fall from his hand and thud onto the desk. Slowly, he let his body crumple, his chair sliding back, allowing his head to rest on the desk to the left of the laptop. He closed his eyes, finally feeling the effects of the drugs quite suddenly. She flashed through his mind, vividly and strangely surrealistic. Her long hair draped down her back and shoulders, straight and free. She was dressed in a black singlet and some matching black pants. She was sitting upright on the bed, tangled in the mess of doona and sheets. She didn't look tired – just content. She was watching him undress and slide into the bed. She then rolled over to switch off the light and nestled herself back under the covers. His eyes opened, the vision vanishing.
He missed that, especially on nights like these. He was pissed, exhausted and in pain. All he wanted was for her to fawn over him in worry, give him a kiss and stay up with him all night – and maybe heal him – that would be a giant bonus. He knew she'd probably pay him out and offer witty jokes that he wasn't in the right state of mind to offer an equally witty reply. However, he also knew how much she valued silence, and that's what he wanted – company without being social.
He could feel the pain in his shoulder slowly began to ache dully again.
He let a long breath escape him. He felt so pathetic – such a weird feeling to him. They were hardly a part. He wanted her company so badly. It was such a first world problem – missing your girlfriend, who just happened to be a superhero - something he would probably never comprehend. Usually work would keep him busy, but every second thought was of her lately. Now he had busted his shoulder and was out of action, leaving him unable to work, those thoughts of her would only increase.
I
His smile faded as his eyes turned serious. The glistening greens of his eyes were bright and full. His dirty blonde hair swayed shaggily over his forehead. She could smell the sweat still caked on him, something oddly enticing. His lips pursed slightly before parting, ready to release words.
He stopped. His eyes stayed on hers. The adrenaline was still pumping thick through his veins.
"What?" she quizzed softly, her eyes darting frantically over him.
He stayed silent, his eyes still locked on hers.
"Jase," she pleaded, but still soft.
"I don't want to scare you," he revealed quickly almost cutting her off as his eyes broke contact with her.
She raised an eyebrow. "You almost died today.." she trailed off, her tone caked with a sarcasm.
His look stayed serious. Her look faded realising her sarcasm wasn't well received.
He looked back at her after a moment.
I love you.
She froze. Did he really just think that? She instantly pulled away, her mind swimming. She sat up, dead straight.
I
He could hear the ring of the skype tone. He instantly straightened, his chair rolling across the floor boards as his hand went for the mouse and his mind breaking from the memory.
Raven is calling you…
He clicked the mouse to accept and the mask came back on. He was cool, calm and collected again. It was like he forgotten what it was like without her. She was here, now and that was all that mattered to him.
The screen enlarged, revealing her porcelain face. Her eyes were darkened with purple bags, a sign of no sleep. Despite her amythest eyes looking dazed somewhat, probably a mix of the sleepiness and adrenaline she was feeling, they were still bright. Her dark hair was now tied back into what looked like a messy bun at the crown of her head. Her thick lips tugged into a small smile as her eyebrows rose slightly, content.
"Morning Sunshine," that playful tone soaked his words. It made her smile extend, her straight white teeth poking out through her pink lips.
888
She rounded the corner and it was exactly who she expected. Dick. He was already looking at her, his expression warm. She didn't think she made that much noise, but she had to remind herself that he'd been on his own for the last five years. Noise other than his own was usually an intruder.
The bright light from the laptop resting on his lap lit his face perfectly. His eyebrows rose and knitted together, making some sort of concerned face. There was no need to state what they were thinking. They both couldn't sleep. They were both still running on adrenaline. Neither of them were tired. They both already knew.
She was the first to speak. "What are you doing?" The question was genuine.
He was still looking at her. "Surfing the net," he replied simply.
He was cuddled up in the corner, his legs outstretched with his right foot over the other. His back was pressed up against the wall with his shoulder pressed up against the other adjoining wall and his laptop rested on his lap. His hands and fingers pulled away from the keyboard, resting by his sides. He was only dressed in, what looked like, a pair of long basketball shorts. She couldn't tell what colour they were.
A smile came to her lips. Dick didn't just surf the net – well he did obviously, but it was such an odd thing for him to just do at six something in the morning. Then again, she was just exploring at six something in the morning. He smiled too.
"Does that amuse you?"
Her smiled stayed. "Oddly," she contemplated for a moment, her smile vanishing for only a second, "yes."
His smile grew bigger.
Impulsively she moved closer to him, stepping onto the wooden staircase. It only housed about six steps before it flattened out onto the platform that Dick was sitting on. He watched as she glided up the stairs and turned, pressing her back against the same wall as his. Slowly, her back glided down the smooth wall until her bottom touched wood. She looked to the screen of the laptop.
He really had been just googling. A couple of windows were opened, detailing a variety of topics. Something about a Maserati GranTurismo something. Personal email inbox, detailing something to do with building. The last tab was quite interesting, named Greek Mythology and was expanded on the screen. 'Laying in the dark with glowing hearts, you held on tight and told me that-'
"Do you mind?" he queried light heartedly his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised.
Her eyes snapped to his face, that smile still making her face glow. "Not at all," she began, "early birthday presents?"
He rolled his eyes, shutting the laptop swiftly. "No," he started firmly, "I just want a new car."
"A Maserati?"
"I have a reputation to keep, Rae," He reminded her, joking in a pompous tone. "It keeps Bruce happy."
She scoffed, her eyesight changing lines away from him. She wasn't sure what she was looking at – the out of focus staircase in front of her maybe. She just didn't want to look back at him. She knew he was watching her intently.
His gazing obviously wasn't taking her attention. "What were you doing?"
"Exploring," her response was quick and feminine. She still kept her eyes on the stair in front of her that lead to the next level.
She felt something touch her thigh. Her head snapped downwards. His hand was resting on her upper thigh. Her heart went into overdrive, skipping instantly into a hectic beat. She could feel something pulse through her. It was energetic, but calm. It was so loving and full of emotion. It was so familiar and so comforting. Her eyes slowly slid shut. It all intensified, the images accentuating the feeling. Waves lapped in her mind, like the sea against the sand. There was a green tinge to the image. The warmth was beginning to flow through her limbs as the image became more vivid, slowly transforming into what seemed to be a waterfall. The way the green images moved was so delicate and innate, like smoke wafting into the air. Then it all seemed like déjà vu.
"Good work last night, Raven," his characteristic voice broke her from the feeling and image instantly, her eyes snapping open like shutters.
She looked up toward him. She didn't know what to say. But obviously her face was saying it all for her as he instantly removed his hand and his face turned awkward. "Sorry," the apology was quiet, but intense, his eyes severe. He knew what he had done. She wasn't sure if it was intentional or not, but she didn't want to stick around to find out.
She was already on her feet, speeding down the stairs with as much grace as she could muster and her mind whirling. She could hear him fumble noisily behind her.
"I saw you with Gar in the garden."
That stopped her dead in her tracks, right in the door frame. What was that supposed to mean? Her head moved so only one side of her face poked past the wooden frame. Her face was stoic for a moment, before her brow furrowed, demeaning and irritated. He was on his feet, defiantly standing, with his laptop strewn on the wooden platform beside him. She could see him exhale slowly and deeply.
"We apologised," the reply was stone cold.
"Oh," he sucked in a breath. She could see it on his face. He knew exactly what he had done. The regret was slowly seeping onto his features. He dropped his gaze to her feet.
"Maybe you should do the same."
And she was gone.
888
She almost sprinted down the hall, her feet padding softly against the wooden floor. What the fuck was that about? He was touching her leg, then sending her those feelings and images and then talking about her and Beast Boy. Insanely weird. It was all.. not Dick like.
Why was she being all girlish out about it? She was running of as if she were ashamed. She was a grown woman with a boyfriend. She knew what she was doing. She could control the situation. She could put him back in his place. Tell him to stop crossing that line. But she didn't. Her face fell into despair.
Why did she let him send that feeling? She could've blocked it.. but she didn't. She didn't do anything! If he hadn't of said anything she still would've been there, enjoying those vivid imaginations. It was all just so stupid of her.
Angrily, she gripped the door handle of her door and swiftly pushed the door open. She slipped through the gap before spinning on her heel and quietly shutting the door behind her with her hands outstretched. Her eyes slipped shut. The slightly green coloured images of the seaside came back to her.
They weren't imaginations.
Her eyes slowly opened, the dark wooden door engulfing all of her vision.
It was a real place. Something they had shared together, but she couldn't remember where or when. Or maybe she didn't want to remember. That thought made her swallow hard.
She raced to her bed, slipping underneath the sheets and cover, not even bothering to change her attire, despite knowing that fact that wouldn't sleep at all. She couldn't with that weird moment circling around in her brain.
She rolled over, her laptop conveniently sitting next to her from the morning prior. A slender hand snaked across the covers to lift the top of the laptop upwards. The screen came to life. She hadn't turned it off. She sighed. She needed something to keep her busy, to keep her mind occupied.
Jason.
Her thoughts fled. She needed to talk to Jason.
With a few clicks on the mouse pad, skype was enlarged and taking over her entire screen. He was online, thank God.
A double click and..
Calling Jason…
Not a moment later, his content and fatigued face flashed upon the screen.
And everything seemed to all of a sudden feel okay.
888
He wound the bandage around his palm five times before he moved to his knuckles and upper fingers. He tucked the remaining bandage into the wound bandage of his palm. It was too late to sleep now – besides he wouldn't be able to after what had just happened.
He got to his feet, unenthused. His mind was too occupied to focus on anything.
Why did he do that? Why? He touched her leg and was thinking about the past, and then he even asked about Beast Boy. The grimace was visible on his face. It was a huge giant mess. He knew what he was doing; he just wasn't sure why he did it. She had a boyfriend. She was happy. She didn't need anything else. Especially him complicating everything that really couldn't be complicated. Why was he making everything so difficult for himself.
Angrily, his arm rose and landed a swift and hard punch to the black boxing bag hanging by a chain from the ceiling.
He crossed the line and he couldn't pull himself back – and that was very unlike him.
Another three rapid punches dug into the bag, making it swing wide.
But she didn't stop him either.
His arms dropped to his sides.
She didn't stop him. She ran off.
He sucked in a breath. There was nothing there. He had to keep telling himself that. There had never been anything there. He was just making something out of nothing.
Quickly, his mind paused in thought as both his arms rose, positioned ready for a fight. Just as quickly, his arms delivered numerous swift and lethal punches, hooks and uppercuts.
He stopped suddenly.
He had almost forgotten her last words. His brow furrowed, confused.
Maybe you should do the same.