Author's Notes: A couple of things about this drabble. First, there's barely any BBRae in it, even if it runs strongly in the background. Second, I was always intrigued by how a meeting between the Batman and Raven would go. I hope I did it justice.

-=oOo=-

Does it Hurt?

The muted clacking of black-gloved fingers on a computer keyboard echoed dully through the vastness of the cave, mingling with the whisper of the ventilation system into a background hum that vibrated just below the threshold of hearing.

The man at the computer console was used to it. It was a part of his life for so long that he grew attuned to the minutest changes in the barely heard but all-pervasive murmur.

The hands paused their glide over the keys for a moment before he shot up from the chair in a blur of silent motion and turned to face the intruder he sensed. The eyes behind the bat mask narrowed as he studied the figure before him, androgynous and faceless under the folds of the midnight-blue hooded cloak.

All the instincts honed by a lifetime of strife focused on her. Just because he recognized her it didn't mean he could allow himself to relax. Just the opposite.

"Why are you here?" his deep, emotionless yet menacing baritone rolled coldly over her.

Pale, delicate hands emerged from under the cloak and pulled the hood down with slow, studied motions. A solemn, violet gaze met his eyes with placid coolness. "I wish to ask a favor."

For a few heartbeats he stood like a black granite statue, observing her while she waited impassively for his answer.

"How did you learn of this place?"

A tiny crack appeared in the hard amethysts staring back at him and her gaze dropped. She remained silent for a couple of endless seconds before she looked up again. "I went into his mind."

In two swift strides he was towering over her, his hands curled into fists. "Explain."

She forced herself not to look away. "It was about five years ago. He was under the influence of a hallucinogenic dust created by Slade." She frowned and her voice frosted. "I wasn't trying to pry. I was trying to save his life."

He watched her silently while his fingers unclenched and the tension in the cave slowly eased. "So you know everything."

She nodded, wrapping herself again both in her cloak and in her stoic demeanor. A few more silent seconds slunk quietly by.

"What is this favor you wanted?" he folded his arms across his chest. Instead of answering, her hand parted the cloak and traced a sigil in the air. A small black circle appeared hovering in front of her, and she plunged her hand into it, removing an object from the lightless void. The portal winked out and she extended her arm in an offering gesture.

His eyebrow went up. "What's that?"

"A dagger," she replied with a hint of sarcasm that he didn't miss.

"I can see that," he rumbled. "Why are you giving it to me?"

She hesitated for a moment. "The blade is carved from a piece of Trigon's antler, and the sigils on it are deadly for any creature of demonic origin."

His hand rose to carefully take the weapon. "I thought you destroyed your father."

She frowned. The barbed sharpness of his words did not go unnoticed. "You can't destroy an Arch-Demon like Trigon," she spoke flatly. "But he's banished to a place he can never return from. He won't be a problem ever again."

"Why do I need this, then?" there was a barely perceptible note of surprise in his voice.

She sighed and looked away. "You need it for me."

"You?"

She rubbed her forehead, the fingers running gently over her chakra gem. "It's… it's because of Gar. If anything happens to him…"

His eyes narrowed as he understood. "Your demonic aspect may react… violently," he concluded grimly. She nodded.

He tapped the dagger on his palm a few times. "You made it yourself," he stated. It was not a question, but her head dipped in an assent again.

A gloved thumb tested the blade's sharpness. Angry crimson flames chased each other in sinister whorls and curlicues over the surface. "You do understand I will have to verify all this," he mused as he examined the weapon.

"I would expect nothing less," the corner of her mouth rose in a small, sarcastic smirk. "I'm sure John will be able to confirm everything I said."

Again silence fell between them, heavy and cold. He broke it finally, his voice as flat and unemotional as ever.

"Why me?"

Her gaze dropped and she chewed her lip. "Because… because Richard would never do it," she replied hoarsely, swallowed and continued. "Neither would Kory, nor Victor."

"And I would?"

She tried to meet his gaze but failed. "I…" she began, but her throat clamped shut. She mentally whispered her mantra a few times. "I'm sorry, I…"

"Don't be," his voice was suddenly much softer. His hand grasped her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "You made the right choice."

"I know you don't kill," she whispered with eyes squeezed firmly shut. "But remember that if it comes to pass, it won't be me any longer. The demon would consume my humanity and the only thing left would be the spawn of Trigon the Terrible, a creature born with the sole purpose to bring about chaos and destruction."

One side of his mouth curled up. "Isn't that what you are now? What you always were?"

She scowled and folded her arms across her chest. "Don't be facetious. You know what I mean."

He chuckled softly. "I do. But you should give yourself some credit, too." His face became serious again. "I will grant your favor. I'll keep this and use it, if it becomes… necessary."

"Thank you," she murmured. The soft background drone of the cave fell between them again. "I should go," she mumbled after an uncomfortably long while.

He nodded, both in affirmation and in goodbye, but she stood still. Finally she lifted her gaze. "Bruce…"

He tilted his head, awaiting the question. She cleared her throat. "Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?"

"Knowing that everyone expects you to…" her words trailed off.

He gazed stoically at her for a couple of long, interminable seconds. "You tell me," his voice grated. "You should know."

A small hand rose to touch his arm in sympathy. "I do. Thanks again, and goodbye."

A soundless burst of black power enveloped her and she was gone. The ever-present hum of the cave returned to normal. Blank-faced he walked over to a reinforced steel door and went through a quick but thorough security routine before the door opened and he stepped into a spacious room whose walls were lined with shelves. He placed the dagger on one of the few free spots beside all the other contingency measures he had.

"There's a difference, Raven," he muttered quietly to himself. "You were born into it. I made a choice."

He closed the door carefully, making sure all security measures fell back in place, then turned and walked over to the computer to continue his work.