"It will take us years before we are back to the force we were before that girl's temper tantrum. We should excommunicate her; we have done so for lesser offences." His mother made an impassioned appeal to her father after the incident earlier in the week.

Damian felt sorry for Ra's al Ghul; he had just returned after a successful campaign in the East to find a League at two-thirds its strength and cowering away from a teenage girl.

"We need to get rid of her before she damages us further." Talia concluded, breathing deeply.

"As much as I dislike the fact," began his aunt Nyssa, "I have to agree with my sister on this. The child is too powerful and lacks control."

"That is why she is here," said Lady Shiva, in her calm, reasonable tone. "She needs to learn control, and who better to teach her than us?"

"But clearly, after over a year under your tutelage, she has failed to grasp the concept!" snapped Talia, rounding on the other woman, like a cat in an alley fight.

"To be fair to the girl," replied Lady Shiva evenly, "she has not had an outburst like this before. We told her to not use her magic and she has resisted until now. That cannot be easy for her, like any of us being told not to use our hands."

"All it takes is one slip-up," interjected Nyssa. "When you are dealing with power like that, one mistake could mean total annihilation of the League."

There was silence.

"Ibn al Xu'ffasch, we have not heard from you," said Ra's. Throughout the bickering of those around him, he had never broken from his position, staring into the dim glow and swirling green depths of the Lazarus pit.

Damian considered his words carefully before replying.

"My aunt is correct; with the amount of power she clearly possesses, it is dangerous to keep an untrained tool such as Raven under our roof." He could see the satisfaction on his mother's face, and the slight relaxing of Nyssa's shoulders. "However," he continued, "I have worked closely with the girl when in that state and she can be controlled. Furthermore, her strength was incredible, and her speed and reflexes much greater than usual." His mother had turned to stare at him blandly, he could tell that she was displeased with his disobedience. His aunt, however, gained a strange look in her eyes as she regarded him. "I believe that we should aim at getting her into that state of being permanently. Because, with a power like that under our command, not even the combined forces of the Justice League could stand against us."

Once again there was silence, as the assembled people waited for the judgement of Ra's al Ghul.

Finally, Damian's grandfather turned away from the pit. The shimmering, green glow washed over part of his face, giving him a strange, ghoulish appearance.

"The human race needs to be exterminated," he said. "Does anybody disagree with that statement?"

"Yes," stated Nyssa at once. "When it comes to humanity, the good still outweighs the bad."

"Does it?" mussed The Demon's Head. "How many years has the League of Assassins existed? We dedicate our lives to improving the world for people, and yet, somehow, it is worse now than it has ever been. There is still war and poverty; still intolerance and sadism; and more sexual depravity than ever. Even worse than the pain and suffering people inflict on each other is the fact that we, as a species, are destroying all other life that exists around us. How many species have we caused the extinction of? How much damage have we done to this planet?" His grandfather turned his gaze to each of them in turn. "Do you honestly believe that the human race deserves to survive?"

"No," said Damian firmly.

Nobody spoke out in disagreement.

Ra's al Ghul continued. "The girl is the daughter of a creature named Trigon. A being of incredible power who has been watching our world, our species, since its conception. It was he who created the Lazarus pits and it is to him that most of us owe our lives." Damian glanced around; it was true that everyone in the room but himself had been revived by the pit at some point. "As his daughter, Raven has the power to open a portal and invite her father into this world. When he comes, we will be his soldiers in his purge of humanity."

The silence that filled the room after his grandfather's words was that of stunned disbelief. His aunt Nyssa's eyes were incredibly wide and glistening with shock; his mother actually had her mouth gaping slightly; and even Lady Shiva was staring at The Demon's Head as though he had just announced the League would join the Green Lantern corps.

"Damian, my blood," said his grandfather, turning towards him. "Continue in your quest to have the girl embrace her demonic side; it is what her father wishes and it is necessary in order to have her open a gateway for him. There is no way for us to force her to do it against her will, so we must prove to her that it is what is needed."

xxx

"Why are we here?" groaned Raven, pulling at the itchy material covering her from head to foot.

She could barely stand it; the air was permeated with terrible emotions. All pain, and hopelessness, and loss, and anger, and despair.

"You wanted to see humanity outside of the League," replied Damian coldly. "Well, here you are."

They were trudging through a city of tents. All around them were people, surrounded by the few effects they had been able to take with them from their former homes. Emaciated women sat in clothing as all-consuming as the ones she wore, cradling painfully thin children. While men, filled with desperation, roamed the dusty 'streets', searching for anything that could help their families. There were no animals; all non-human life had been ended in order to provide food for the countless thousands amassed here. But there were plenty of insects thriving in the dreadful conditions; they swarmed the people and fed off the dead or near dead of which there were plenty; people who had perished where they sat, or who were slowly wasting away before the eyes of others.

As they moved through the crowd, Raven made sure she stuck close to Damian's side; she could feel the dark intentions of many of the men who eyed her from where they stood in groups. Many of them carried guns and took pleasure in tormenting their fellow refugees, whereas some were just determined not to lose face in front of the others. Raven could not understand it; all of these people were barely surviving. Surely, they should be banding together in sympathy and community, but clearly, some were using the situation to realise their darkest desires.

It wasn't right! She had seen indescribably horrible things done to people when in her father's realm. But those had been Demons, beings who were created out of pain and misery, inflicting their sense of fun on mortals. Somehow, it was worse to realise that humans could cause the same suffering to each other.

At one point in their journey, Damian was forced to physically drag her past a tent where she could hear and feel the pain of women and girls, younger than her, as they were attacked.

"We have to help them," she cried to him. "We can't just leave them!"

"So, we help them today," replied Damian, coldly. "We even kill their attackers. Tomorrow, next week, next month, it will happen again. A different group of men, a different group of women."

His words rent at her heart, as tears flowed down her face.

"Why is this happening?" she cried.

"War," he said, simply. "A war between two generic groups of people, under the guise of generic reasons, but really it is just because a few powerful individuals want more power."

"But what about the Justice League?" Raven demanded. "Why aren't they doing something?"

Ever since her loss of control a couple of months ago, Damian had begun teaching her about the people of Earth in general. She had pounced on the idea of the Justice League as a beacon of hope for the universe; it proved that there were some people, at least, willing to put effort into improving the lives of others.

"For the same reason we did not help those women," replied Damian. "Because it would not make a difference. The only way to really end the suffering of these people is to remove the cause of their current predicament. Eliminating war. But war is the staple of humanity; it is how we have evolved. Without war, there would be no sense of community; no shared enemy to unite against. We are a truly barbaric race; the only thing that keeps us together is a passion to kill each other."

Suddenly, she felt something hard poking into her side. Turning, she found the barrel of a machine gun pressed into the side of her stomach. Holding it was a small boy, barely older than eight years old.

"You come with me now." He demanded, glaring at her with eyes too young to be filled with so much hate.

Behind him, Raven saw other men with guns raiding the tents around them. She said men, most of them were boys. She watched in horror as they dragged their fellow refugees, men, women, and children into the streets and ransacked their shanty shelters.

"You come now, or I shoot!" yelled the boy.

Before Raven could reply, Damian was between them. She did not see what he did, but moments later the boy was lying in the dirt, unmoving. There were yells as the boy's companions realised what had happened, and began aiming their weapons at the pair. They didn't shoot however, as Damian was holding the boy's machine gun.

Slowly, Damian backed away from their aggressors keeping Raven behind him. Understanding his intent, she began pushing aside the mass of people, guiding Damian with a hand on his back. As soon as there was a layer of people between them and the gun, the boys began shooting into the crowd. Panic erupted around them, and without her training Raven was sure she would have been killed, either by a bullet, or by the crush of the stampeding crowd. Indeed, she was forced to climb over some poor souls who had suffered such a fate.

"In here," Damian growled roughly, pulling her under the covers of a random tent. Inside, Raven came face to face with a terrified man, trying desperately to shield a woman and infant.

"It's okay," whispered Raven quickly, holding her hands, palms outstretched, towards him to show that she was unarmed. "It's alright; we're not here to hurt you."

Momentarily, Raven felt a wave of relief wash over the man and woman, but then Damian backed into the shelter after her, and she almost chocked on their renewed fear.

"Please," cried the man, "we have a baby. Don't take my wife away."

"I don't want your wife." Snapped Damian, harshly. "Raven, it's time to go."

"Wait," hissed Raven. She had just sensed something. They baby, it was dying. "I can help," she said, gently, indicating the infant.

The child's mother, however, drew her baby even more tightly to herself, as though afraid Raven might suddenly make a grab for it.

"Raven," growled Damian. "We need to go. Now!"

"But I…"

"If that gang finds us in here with them, they will shoot everyone here, including the kid. Now open a portal!"

It was possibly the most difficult thing she had ever done. The people of Azarath had taught her how to heal, had taught her how it was her duty to help anybody in need. And here she was, walking away from an innocent life that would undoubtedly end in less than a week if nothing was done.

But Damian was right; there was no time.

Tearfully, she opened a portal back to Nanda Parbet.

Damian, took hold of her arm again but, before he could drag her through the swirling purple light, Raven used her magic to levitate the family through with them.

They arrived in one of the snow-filled courtyards.

Raven's head was suddenly filled with overwhelming emotions from all sides. Anger and rage from Damian; and terror and confusion from the, suddenly teleported, family.

Damian began screaming at her, the frightened man and woman began shouting out hysterical questions, but Raven didn't care. She had saved at least these people from that living nightmare of an existence.

xxx

As punishment for her actions, Raven had been dragged in front of Ra's al Ghul himself, who had spent the better part of an hour berating her for her 'foolishness'. After that, she had been relegated back to menial chores, this time cleaning in the kitchens and bathrooms. And once more, she had been denied access to clothing.

This last was more of an inconvenience than it had been when she had first joined the League, as she had since begun regular menstrual bleeding.

The first time it had ever happened, she had been terrified and confused. Convinced that something was horribly wrong, she had gone to Lady Shiva for help. Far from being sympathetic, her teacher had ridiculed her for her hysteria and explained the facts of her conditions in tones reserved for the slow-witted.

Though the sensation of being naked in front of others no longer concerned her, the new element of bleeding without the aid of rags to hide her condition had been. She was forced endure the unpleasant sensation of globules of blood sliding down her thighs once a month for three months.

During her time in punishment, she constantly had to remind herself of the reason she had put herself into the position. The memory of healing the baby, surrounding him with a cocoon of magic until his feeble whimpers became healthy cries, had made her discomfort well worth it.

Now, the punishment was over and she was, once again, training with Damian.

It seemed that, even though she had officially atoned for sins, she had yet to redeem herself in Damian's eyes. His training had been so extreme since it had resumed, that she had given up healing her injuries at night.

Raven refused to acknowledge or complain about the treatment however; that was what the Arrogant Teen – she had upgraded his nickname yet again – wanted, and so she was going to deny him the pleasure.

"I hope the information I taught you about the world hasn't been as completely forgotten as the basic movements." Damian said coldly after Raven found herself on the floor with a blade held to her throat once again. "List me the members of the Justice League, their strengths and weaknesses."

Raven groaned slightly; she was in an extremely uncomfortable position; flat on the floor, with her stomach pressed into the cold slabs and Damian's knee in the small of her back, pinning her in place.

One of his hands pulled her head back by the hair, while the other held the knife.

"Superman," she managed to groan. "Superhuman strength, speed, impervious to most physical attacks, heat vision, x-ray vision, ice-breath, weak to green kryptonite and the light of a Red Sun; Wonder Woman, superhuman strength, speed, reflexes, has the lasso of truth, knows a little magic, weak to some physical attacks, weak to the suffering of women and children; Batman, tactician, superior fighter, has trained with the League of Assassins, weaknesses…"

Here Raven hesitated. Should she say it?

"Weaknesses?" The blade nicked the skin of her neck slightly.

Defiantly, Raven craned her head around until she could see her 'teacher's' face. "You."

He was stunned. She could feel it.

Slowly, he removed the dagger from her neck and released his grip on her hair. Her head snapped forwards gratefully.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked quietly.

"Get off me and I'll tell you." Coughed Raven.

Damian rose to his feet. He stared down at Raven, who rolled onto her back, glaring up at him.

"Don't think I'm stupid," she spat at him. "You're practically obsessed with The Batman. We talk about him more than any other member of the Justice League, apart from Nightwing." Damian had slipped on his expressionless mask and encased his emotions behind his mental barrier. But Raven got the distinct impression that Damian was horrified she knew his secret.

Suddenly, all of her spite drained out of her; he hadn't really done anything that her other teaches wouldn't have, but for some reason it just felt worse coming from Damian. Perhaps it was because they were similar ages, or maybe it was because sometimes she fancied herself as having a small crush on him. Whatever the reason, the fact was that whenever Damian embarrassed her, it was ten times worse than when it was any other member of the League of Assassins.

She allowed her voice to soften. "I also overheard your mother talking to your aunt about going back to Gotham on a mission. She wondered if she would see your father whilst there. After that, it wasn't difficult putting two and two together."

"Lesson's over," said Damian without emotion, "go wash up."

He turned towards the door, but Raven hastily scrambled to her feet and went to grab his arm. Instantly, he had her face pressed against a wall, the offending hand twisted painfully behind her back.

"I said," hissed Damian into her ear. "Lesson's over."

"Why are you so defensive about this?" asked Raven through gritted teeth. "Trust me, there are worse fathers."

"Worse?" Damian seethed, pushing into her back even more, making her groan in pain. "He was granted the greatest of honours; he was offered the title of Demon's Head and he threw it back into my grandfather's face. He spends half of his time prancing around Gotham as a mindless billionaire instead of dedicating his entire life to his crusade. But worst of all, he lacks the conviction to kill the villainous scum he fights and instead leaves them free to massacre hundreds of the people he swore to protect every year!"

The position she was in was becoming unbearable as, with every sentence, Damian was pressing her harder and harder into the wall.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Thrusting her head backwards, she forced Damian away from her. Then she dropped into a crouch, yanking her arm painfully from his grasp whilst doing so. Springing back up, she elbowed him in the stomach, eliciting the smallest of grunts from him, as she slammed him back against the wall, her forearm pressing into his neck, threatening to cut off his air supply.

Of course, this wouldn't hold him; his arms and legs were all free to do damage, but she only needed to stop him attacking her for a second.

"You are not allowed to talk about shit fathers," she hissed at him. "The first time I met my father, he destroyed my entire world and everyone I had ever known and loved. He dragged me to his Hellish dimension and forced me to watch while he did terrible things. And then…then he made me do terrible things." She barely managed to choke out the last admission; she had never had to say it out loud before. It was horrible, yet somehow liberating to do so.

She wanted to stop talking, she was going to stop. But it seemed as though with that one admission, the floodgates opened.

As she spoke, telling Damian about her life, the assassin didn't move a muscle. Remaining in place pinned against the wall, he just listened to Raven's tale.

xxx

Damian paced up and down his room. As an al Ghul, and heir to The Demon's Head no less, he was privileged with a larger living space than the majority of League members. It was not luxurious, but it was big, with space enough to pace when he had too many thoughts running around his head. As was the case now.

Usually, he would spend his time alone training, or meditating, or trying to figure out the next moves that his grandfather's opponents in the League would make. But this night, his thoughts were on the half-demon girl that he was charged with training.

Usually, they sparred, she got angry, and he attempted to make her even angrier. But today, somehow, the tables had turned.

She had figured out his secret: she knew about the Batman. And she had understood. She hadn't said as much; he just knew that she understood.

And then she had fought back. She hadn't really done that since the incident. But, instead of turning red and growing another pair of eyes, she had begun crying over her relationship with her own father.

He could see it in her over-bright eyes, as the emotion of her experiences flooded through her at the telling. And, from what she had said, her resentment of her father was well deserved.

But that was when it had happened. An odd, alien feeling had come over him. A strange urge. To embrace her.

He had wanted to hug her, and more, he had wanted to kiss her.

Sure, he was just a few weeks shy of fourteen; it was biologically appropriate for him to begin looking at others with lust, but this hadn't been lust. He knew lust, he had experienced it occasionally, before mastering the impulses of course. But this had been something else, something more.

He had wanted to do those things in order to comfort her. And so that he could be comforted in return.

What was wrong with him? He was Damian al Ghul, heir to Ra's al Ghul. His loyalty was pledged completely to the cause of his grandfather. There was no room in his life for compassion. Especially not for a mere weapon the League would use to summon its father!

xxx

Damian has feelings, Damian has feelings

I just want to make it clear that the refugee camp is not aimed at any specific country, group of people, or war going on in the world. The terrible truth of the matter is as Damian said: there will always be war and therefore also people forced to flee from their homes. Most will be trying to live their lives in peace whilst others will try and use the situation to their advantage. That being said, as human beings, we should not shy away from providing help just because of a small minority of bastards.

Please let me know what you think of the chapter via comments, or I'll send Damian after you! Just kidding, but I would really appreciate it :)

Thanks,

LP

xxx