The old Laurence place was set far away from the main streets, blocked by
ancient weeping willows with old Spanish moss. The decaying walls
were draped in ivy, the cracked old white bricks showing through in spots.
Several windows were boarded up. It was hard to believe that the bustling
streets of New Orleans were only a mile or so away from this little patch
of bayou.
The twining gravel drive leading to the house was patchy with parched, amber grass. The child's shoes made almost no sound as she approached. A child seemed out of place with the decrepit antebellum wreck, and yet she seemed a part of it, with her long pale hair and her long pale dress. She walked up the front door, wrapped her small fingers around the rusted knocker, and hit it.
The woman who answered the door was just as dilapidated as the house. Uncombed, mousy hair stuck out in all directions. Her clothes were old, remnants of the seventies and eighties, and her brown eyes were bloodshot. She squinted at the girl, taking a long drag from the cigarette dangling from her fingertips. "There ain't no kids here," she said. "Go home, kid. Unless, of course, you're a ghost. You look like one." The woman's vocal register was rough, but her voice was softened with an accent thick as honey.
The girl stared up at her, solemn-eyed. "I'm Jamey's daughter," she said. "Jamey's girl?" the woman repeated. "She's been dead these thirteen years."But she reached out to touch the girl's cheek. "You've got Jamey's eyes." She held open the door. "Come on in, kid."
The girl stepped into the house. It was just as tumbledown and dirty as the outside. Old furniture stood in tired attention against the walls, and cobwebs dangled from the dull arms of the chandelier. "You got a name?" the woman asked, closing the door without bothering to bolt it. The girl didn't answer. "Come on, kid. I'm talking to you."
"Raven," she said. "My name is Raven."
"Sounds made up. Your mama was Jamison Marie, named after our granddaddy and his wife. I'm Cameron Jo, but you can just call me Aunt Cameron, I suppose," the woman said. Her southern accent twanged the name into 'Cam'ron.' "And I suppose I better be finding you someplace to sleep. You staying long?" Raven just shrugged. Aunt Cam'ron sighed. "There ain't much in this place. But there might be something I can do."
Raven edged her way up the stairs, following her newfound relation. Aunt Cam'ron took her to the second story down a narrow hall and opened a mildewed door. "That'll have to do, I guess," she said. "I ain't particular about mealtimes. Come down to the kitchen and scrounge something up if you're hungry." And then she left.
*****
"You can't stay here any longer, child," Twilight said, smoothing Raven's hair away from the bloody cut on her cheek. "It's too dangerous."
Raven watched her. Twilight's navy hair had gone to pure white in the three and a half years since her brother's death. Her every motion spoke of heartache. "Where can I go?" Raven asked.
"Your aunt."
The twelve-year-old jerked away. "My what?" she repeated.
Twilight pressed the cloth against Raven's gash. "Your mother's name was Jamey Laurence. She was raised by her older sister, your Aunt Cameron," she explained. "I must get you away from here. Away from your father. You have to stay safe. Indigo...Indigo would have wanted you as far away as possible." She sighed, stroking the girl's pale cheek. "If only I had the courage to do it sooner."
Raven shook herself out of her reverie. She couldn't go back now. She tried to focus on something else to take her mind off of home.
The room was falling apart. Crackly wallpaper printed with huge gaudy roses peeled off of the walls. The bits and pieces of furniture were mismatched and dirty. Raven wrote her name in script on the bureau's dust. She thought about lifting the shade of the window to let in some light, but decided not to when she saw a brown spider the size of a penny race around the curl. She shivered and sat down on the bed, trying to ignore the cloud of dust that rose up. A faint scrabble in the wall behind the sagging bed startled her. Raven squinched her eyes tight and decided to go downstairs.
She lost her way a time or two on her way down. The house was much bigger than she thought. But after a time she found the kitchen. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting an orangey glow on the room when she pulled the chain. Raven opened the refrigerator door and moved around the few items, looking for something edible.
"Yes, my dear! You shall be rich, rich beyond your wildest dreams, richer than even me!"
The sudden voice made Raven jump. She closed the door and went in search of the sound.
"My darling, my darling, of course! Madama Camrushka knows all! You will be famous, my darling. Ah! What is this? A vision I am having! Yes, I see you accepting an award. A great and glorious statuette, for you. Yes, I see it."
The voice had a thick Creole accent, patronizing and humble by turns. Raven peeked around the corner. Aunt Cam'ron was sitting at her desk, the phone at her ear, speaking fluidly and waving her arms as her visions grew grander and grander.
"Of course, my darling. All right. Be sure to call Madama Camrushka when the vision come true, yes? Yes. Goodbye." Aunt Cam'ron hung up the phone and slid her piles of cards into one neat deck.
Suddenly she turned around. "Who's there?" she demanded, back to her normal rough Southern voice.
Raven came out from behind the door. "It's just me," she said meekly.
Aunt Cam'ron settled back. "Thought a gator got in the house again," she said. "'Course, they make a heck of a lot more racket than you do." She looked at her niece. "Well? You're wondering what I was doing. So go ahead and ask."
"How did you know?" Raven asked.
Aunt Cam'ron shrugged. "Borderline psychic, sweets. Jamey was better'n me, but she never wanted to try this. Said it was beneath her. But you know what happened to her. She shoulda stuck with hotline readings." She laughed, a horrible and raspy sound, and beckoned to Raven. "Let's see what you got, kiddo. You take the next call."
Heart pounding, Raven sat down and stared at the phone. It rang loudly, jangling and grating on her ears.
"Answer it!" Aunt Cam'ron urged.
Raven picked up the phone, her fingers clutching the cold white grip. "Hello?" she said.
"Is this Madama Camrushka's readings?" a woman's voice asked.
Panicked, Raven looked to her aunt. "Tell her you're my apprentice," Aunt Cam'ron hissed.
"I'm her apprentice," Raven whispered.
"Well?" the woman said. "Are you going to give me my reading?"
Raven fumbled with the cards. They burned her fingers. This was wrong. She just felt that this was wrong. She went back to her usual way of finding out things about people. Quietly, she reached out with her powers and felt the chakra of the woman on the line. "Do you have a son named Brian?" she asked.
"I sure do," the woman said, pleased. "He's eighteen today."
"His car is going to be hit by a drunk driver," Raven said. "He will die."
The woman was silent for a moment. "Is this a joke?" she asked.
"No," Raven said. "It's true."
She was forced to yank the phone away from her ear as the woman screamed. Cuss words barraged her as Aunt Cam'ron pried the telephone from her grip and slammed it down. "What was that about, child?" she demanded.
Raven blinked. "That's what I sensed," she said. "I saw the woman's son."
"She's more powerful than Jamey ever was," Aunt Cam'ron muttered to herself, not caring if her niece heard. "Listen, kid, it doesn't matter what the truth is. You never tell 'em what the truth is. Tell 'em what they want to hear, keep 'em on the line for half an hour, and you'll be getting twenty-five to fifty bucks a call. If you tell 'em things like that bomb, you won't make so much as a cent."
"But it was true," Raven stammered.
Aunt Cam'ron swatted her across the face, yanking open the still- healing cut on her cheek. "You've got to do something to pay for your keep. Even if you're Jamey's kid, I don't got the money to keep you. You help out with the calls, and I'll let you stay here. You got that?" she asked.
Raven only nodded, her hand pressed against her cheek.
*****
She couldn't say she enjoyed living with Aunt Cam'ron, but she got used to it. The days were always the same. During the daylight hours she would sleep or meditate, and during the night she would stay up until two, three, four o'clock in the morning, lying to people. At first it made her conscience burn to do it, but after a while the burn softened into a dull, ever-present ache. She practiced a Cajun accent so thick she could cut it with a knife and learned to answer to the name Mam'selle Rayah. Aunt Cam'ron was pleased with her progress. She bought Raven new clothes, outfits she would never choose on her own, things like midriff shirts and low-slung jeans. As often as she could Raven wore the clothes she brought from home. The earth clothes were worn the few times she went to the local junior high to keep the truant officers away. The school was big enough for her to blend into the background without being noticed.
There was only one thing that kept her alive. Raven discovered the old library of the house. She read constantly. If it had print, she read it, no matter what language it was in. Novels, history books, schoolbooks, anthologies, medical journals- she devoured them all. The old books welcomed her company, and she welcomed their escape.
*****
Raven awoke slowly, her head feeling heavy. Cold fingers were combing through her waist-length hair. She squinted.
"Jamey," Aunt Cam'ron slurred. "My baby princess sister."
"I'm not Jamey. I'm her daughter Raven," she explained.
"You're gonna be a beauty when you grow up, Jamey Jay," Aunt Cam'ron said. "Ain't it the truth. You gonna be the beauty of the family. Never seen a girl prettier'n you, Jamey Jay." Aunt Cam'ron hugged Raven tightly. "Ya promise not ta leave your sister, right? Never leave. Never never never. I raised ya, an' I keep ya forever."
Raven was frozen. Aunt Cam'ron was drunk again. This happened every time. She'd come in her room, calling her Jamey. Then she'd go into her tirade about leaving her. After that Aunt Cam'ron would stagger out of the room, vomit a couple of times, and wake up with a massive hangover, forcing Raven to take over the calls for the day and the night.
All she had to do was wait for it to be over. And then it would start again.
*****
"Come on, baby doll, we're goin' to town."
Raven rubbed her eyes and sat up. Aunt Cam'ron was dressed in the gaudiest clothes she'd ever seen- if you could consider it clothes. She wore a tight gold dress with a plunging halter neckline and a barely there skirt. A green and purple garter was obvious on one of her skinny legs, and her hair was covered with a green and purple headscarf. Immense gold earrings hung to her bare shoulders. "You've gotta get up. We've got business to do," Aunt Cam'ron insisted.
"What business?" Raven asked, climbing out of bed.
"It's Mardi Gras. Every year I go downtown and do my readings and suchlike on the street corner. And this year you're gonna help out." Aunt Cam'ron thrust a heap of slick, shiny cloth into Raven's arms. "Put these on and come downstairs. We don't want to miss getting the best spot."
*****
Raven slunk behind the booth, crossing her arms over her chest. She was freezing in her costume. Hers was even worse than Aunt Cam'ron's. The outfit consisted of a gold bra top with jeweled straps, a low-slung metallic green skirt that barely covered her, and gold and purple spike heels that kept sliding off. Her long hair had been combed straight down her back and her face was painted in a green, purple, and gold butterfly design. She had never felt so ashamed or embarrassed in her life.
"We got a great spot, kiddo!" Aunt Cam'ron crowed, pulling out a dingy crystal ball and a pack of brightly colored cards. "Work on that expression, though. You look more grumpy than mysteriously exotic." She set up her things on the table. "I'll get even more customers this year with you."
Raven scowled and hid even further. A band was playing loudly on the street corner, drowning out any chance of her going into meditation. Aunt Cam'ron grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her back up. "Mam'selle Rayah, we have a customer," she cooed in her fake Creole accent. "Help him, won't you?" She leaned over and hissed in her ear, "Stand up and flirt a little." Aunt Cam'rn let go of her shoulder.
Raven stood up and faked a smile. The man was skinny and disreputable looking. "And what would you like Mam'selle Rayah to find in the stars for you?" she asked.
"If you're the psychic, you tell me," he grimaced.
Buying time, she stared into the crystal ball. The standard options were money, fame, or true love. She decided such a desperate-looking guy would want either the first or the last. "Ah! Mam'selle Rayah can read you clear as book. You are searching for your true love," she said.
"Don't need to be true," the man said. "Just want some lovin'." He raked his eyes over her slim body in the revealing costume. "See yourself in that vision?"
Raven panicked. "No," she said firmly. "Mam'selle Rayah sees nothing. The glass is dark. That'll be ten dollars."
"I'll make it a hundred," the man said, leaning forward.
"No!" she cried, backing away so quickly she knocked over the chair. "You can have your reading free, just leave me alone!"
Sulking, the man melded into the crowd. Raven ran to Aunt Cam'ron, her ankles wobbling in the high heels, and grabbed her wrist. "Aunt Cam'ron, I don't like this," she said.
"Come on, kiddo, live a little," the woman purred. She was standing a little too close to a strange man with green face paint. He was running his hands over her bare back.
"Kid's cute," he said to Aunt Cam'ron. "She dance as good as you?"
Aunt Cam'ron disentangled herself from the man's embrace. "Don't know," she said. "Get up there and dance, honey."
"I don't dance," Raven said.
The man reached over and pinched her cheek. "Aw, be nice, darlin'," he said. "I just wanna see you dance."
"No," Raven said. She had never danced in front of anyone before- only when she was alone in her room back home on Azarath.
"Dance, Rayah," Aunt Cam'ron said. Her voice was honey but her eyes were ice. "You get up there and dance like I says or you'll regret it."
Tears burning in her eyes, she climbed up on the table and danced. There was enough music coming from the street corner band to dance along with. A crowd started to gather, whistling and catcalling at the slender girl dancing on the table. Raven closed her eyes and wished she was anywhere but there.
*****
"Get up."
"What time is it?" Raven asked blearily.
"Doesn't matter," Aunt Cam'ron said. "We'll be heading downtown in a couple of hours, but first I gotta teach you the real way to dance, darlin'. Get dressed and come downstairs."
Raven followed her aunt to what was once the old dining room. Aunt Cam'ron turned on an ancient tape player, and the sounds of a hiphop tape came flooding through the speakers. "You gotta loosen up when you dance," she said. "You're too uptight. Makes you look unapproachable." Aunt Cam'ron swayed her hips to the beat.
"I don't want to dance at all," Raven said. "I don't want to go into town."
"Too bad," Aunt Cam'ron said. "You got me a lotta money yesterday, and if you learn up good then you'll get me even more. So start dancing."
Feeling sick to her stomach, she did. She learned how to move her hips and smile at the same time, how to hold her arms, how to show off her body. Raven bit back the wave of emotions battering her. Twilight would be weeping if she saw her now, a thirteen-year-old girl who had been forced to sell her soul.
Aunt Cam'ron was thrilled by the money that poured in between psychic readings and her niece's dancing. "We're doing real good, kiddo," she said, her speech patterns deteriorating into the local way of talking. "Try showing some skin."
Raven rubbed her bare arms, pressing them against her stomach. "I thought I already was," she said, her voice tight.
"It's good, but not quite. Put your skirt lower, or let one of your straps fall," Aunt Cam'ron suggested. "You're doing great. Maybe I can get you out here to dance more often."
Raven bit back the sobs and obeyed, obeying blindly like she was forced to all her life.
It was nearing one o'clock in the morning when the crowds began to disperse. A cold, steady rain had begun to fall, drenching everything. Aunt Cam'ron started packing their things into her battered sedan. "Rayah, be a honey and get me my crystal ball. It's still back there somewhere," she called.
Raven pushed herself up and went in search of it, her legs aching. The ball was tucked in the back of the booth, right where it had been left. She knelt to pick it up...and a pair of arms slid around her waist from behind.
"Hey, baby," the voice whispered. "I been watching you."
"Get away," Raven screamed, kicking.
Her slight body was no match for the big man. He ran his hands over her cold, rain-slick figure. She screamed, her uncontrolled powers coming out in full. It was enough to push him back.
Raven ran. She kicked off her shoes, running barefoot on the dirty streets. A few partygoers watched her, but none made any attempt to help her. She ran and ran until she collapsed in a quivering little heap in an alleyway, welcoming the darkness that clouded her vision.
She awoke to find it dark and still raining. She would have gone back to sleep were it not for the hand she felt touching her face. "Get away!" she cried hoarsely.
"It's all right, child. I'm not going to harm you," the man said, his voice kind and pleasant. "You don't need to be afraid anymore." He touched her forehead in a loving gesture that reminded her of Twilight and Indigo. "You're going to come with me, little one." He picked her up gently, wrapping a blanket around her.
"Who are you?" she asked, keeping herself as far from him as she could.
"My name is Nik," he said, holding her gently. "I will look after you."
Raven buried her face in his shoulder. He smelled comforting, like cedar wood. Gradually she fell asleep against him.
*****
Cyborg cheered as his points racked up on the . "Yes, yes, yes!" he cheered. "I am whomping you, man!"
Robin slunk down. "Yeah, whatever," he said. "I'll catch up."
Suddenly a knock on the door startled them. The little cars onscreen blew up in a million sparkly pixels as they dropped the consoles.
"We'd better get that," Robin said. The two boys cracked open the door.
"I was wondering if you were ever going to answer," Nik smiled. "Can't I come in?" Robin held the door open wider. Nik stepped in, miraculously dry despite the pouring rain.
"What're you holding?" Cyborg asks. "Is that a person?"
"It is," Nik said. He shifted the small cloaked body in his arms. Gently he lifted the hood away, revealing a delicate little girl sleeping soundly in his arms.
"A new team member?" Robin guessed.
"Exactly," Nik said. Cyborg gazed at her. She was very small and bone- thin, her cheekbones standing out sharply. Long lavender-colored hair hung around her in damp curls. Nik noticed Cyborg staring and touched the girl's cheek. "Beautiful child, isn't she?" he commented. Cyborg nodded.
"What's her name?" he asked.
"Raven," Nik said. He shifted her again; she whimpered slightly. "She's a very sick little girl. You'll have to take good care of her until she's well enough to fend for herself."
"I'll take her," Cyborg said, surprised by his own offer. Nik handed the child to him. She was incredibly light, but her whole body was hot and trembling with fever.
"I'm trusting you two," Nik said. "I'll be back to check on you in a week or so." With that, he vanished. Robin and Cyborg were left alone with an unconscious girl.
"So," Robin said, "what should we do?"
"Probably let her rest," Cyborg said. "I'll carry her upstairs."
"Okay," Robin shrugged. "You keep an eye on her for now."
Cyborg cradled Raven in his arms and carried her to one of the spare rooms upstairs. As gently as he could he laid her down on the bed. She shivered and curled into a tighter ball to get warm. He rested his hand on her forehead; she was burning with fever. Raven whimpered again. "Hey, little girl," Cyborg said. "I'm not gonna hurt you." He draped a blanket over her body. "Robin and I will take good care of you. I promise."
At the sound of his voice Raven blinked slowly. Her eyes were too large and too dark for her pale, thin face. "Indigo?" she whispered hoarsely. She bolted upright. "Indigo, is that you?"
"No, it's-"
"Indigo, where are you?" Raven cried. "Please, I just want to see you again!"
Cyborg's mouth dropped open. The girl buried her face in her hands, her long hair shielding her. Cyborg put his hands on her shoulders. "Sha, love," he whispered, trying to remember the ways his own mother used to comfort him. "Sha, dear-heart. It's all right." Her tiny hot fingers curled around his cold metal ones. He laid her back down on the bed and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. "Go to sleep, Raven. I'll watch over you." Almost instantly she dropped into sleep, exhausted. Cyborg sat next to her, watching her as she slept.
Where did she come from? he wondered. Was she an orphan? Was she abandoned? He wondered about her clothes. She looked like a baby hooker. But he decided to wait for his questions to be answered.
*****
It was a full day before she awoke. Cyborg was with her when she opened her eyes for the first time. "Wh- where am I?" she whispered.
Cyborg touched her forehead. "Your fever's broken," he said, pleased. "You're in the Titans Tower. Nik brought you here. Do you remember him?"
Raven frowned. "I think...I think so," she said. "I remember Aunt Cam'ron...and Mardi Gras...and the...oh!" Her eyes widening in fear, she backed away from him, pulling the blanket up to her neck. "Please don't touch me. I'll give you a reading free, but just don't touch me. I didn't want to dance. It was Aunt Cam'ron's idea."
"What?" Cyborg said. "I don't have any idea of what you're saying, Raven. I don't want a reading, I've never seen you dance, and I have no idea who Aunt Cam'ron is."
Raven relaxed slightly. "Is this...tower in New Orleans?" she asked.
"Nope. Oregon," Cyborg told her. "Closer to California, actually. You can even see the Cali beaches from the windows upstairs."
Now Raven had relaxed enough to lean against the pillows and look up at him. Her long lavender hair hung over her shoulders to her waist. She was still wearing the bedraggled costume she'd worn that long-ago night in New Orleans, the gold top drooping over her tiny breasts. Cyborg felt bad for her. She looked like such a baby, but her eyes were old beyond her years.
There was a knock on the door. Nik came in, Robin at his heels. "Hello, Raven," Nik greeted, touching her hand. "I see you're getting acquainted with Cyborg. Here's the other member of the team. This is Robin." Raven nodded, almost shy. Nik's big, rough hands were gentle as he stroked her hair. "Your fever's gone down, but you should stay in bed for a while, little one," he told her. "The boys will take good care of you."
Raven nodded in thanks again. With a tilt of his head, Nik instructed the boys to leave. "Now, child," Nik said. "Tell me. How can we help you?"
"I don't need help," Raven said sullenly, sinking down in the soft bed that miraculously was not dusty nor smelled like dead leaves. "I was doing fine on my own."
"Fine?" Nik repeated. "Your aunt was using you. She exploited you. How old are you, child? Ten? Eleven?"
"Thirteen," she said, not daring to look up.
"You're so young. Too young to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders." Raven still didn't look up, but she didn't pull away when Nik held her hand. He had a very gentle, fatherly way about him that calmed her down. "You'll be living here from now on, child. You'll be a an."
"A Teen what?" Raven tried to ask, but she was interrupted by a yawn. Nik laughed softly and pulled the blankets around her.
"You'll find out soon enough. But for now, go to sleep," he said. Raven was only too willing to obey.
*****
Robin glanced up. "Hey," he said, smiling. "Are you sure you're ready to be up yet?"
The slight girl nodded. "I'm fine," she said. She was as skinny as a stick and her face was still as white as paper.
"You like the clothes Nik found for you?" Robin asked.
Raven nodded, but didn't say anything else. "The belt's a little big," she commented. It was too large to cinch around her tiny waist, so it hung to one side of her narrow hips.
Robin opened his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by the beeping of the Titans alarm. Cyborg poked his head in. "Where's the trouble?" he asked.
"Downtown," Robin said. "Looks like it's the library."
"The library?" Cyborg repeated. "What bad thing could happen in a library?"
"No idea," Robin shrugged. "Oh, well. Titans, GO!"
Raven followed them, looking a little bemused.
*****
Nik was ready for the call. He picked up his phone and answered it on the first ring.
"She has no idea how to fight."
Nik smiled. He could practically see the sulking look on Robin's face. "I know," he said, enjoying the moment.
"You knew? You knew that that little girl is a liability waiting to happen? You knew that she could have gotten us all killed? You knew that she would need us to come and rescue her?" Robin shouted. "Why didn't she defend herself?"
"She doesn't know how," Nik said.
"Doesn't know how to defend herself?" Robin repeated, incredulous. "Why not?"
"Raven has spent her entire life controlled. Controlled by her powers, by her fears, by people who exploit her. She can't defend herself from them. I want you to not only teach her how to defend herself, but teach her how to be free."
There was a long pause. "We'll take care of her," Robin said.
Author's Note: Raven is my favorite character and her part came a lot easier to me. But it seems to be PG-13. Sorry. Anyway...Beast Boy is next!
The twining gravel drive leading to the house was patchy with parched, amber grass. The child's shoes made almost no sound as she approached. A child seemed out of place with the decrepit antebellum wreck, and yet she seemed a part of it, with her long pale hair and her long pale dress. She walked up the front door, wrapped her small fingers around the rusted knocker, and hit it.
The woman who answered the door was just as dilapidated as the house. Uncombed, mousy hair stuck out in all directions. Her clothes were old, remnants of the seventies and eighties, and her brown eyes were bloodshot. She squinted at the girl, taking a long drag from the cigarette dangling from her fingertips. "There ain't no kids here," she said. "Go home, kid. Unless, of course, you're a ghost. You look like one." The woman's vocal register was rough, but her voice was softened with an accent thick as honey.
The girl stared up at her, solemn-eyed. "I'm Jamey's daughter," she said. "Jamey's girl?" the woman repeated. "She's been dead these thirteen years."But she reached out to touch the girl's cheek. "You've got Jamey's eyes." She held open the door. "Come on in, kid."
The girl stepped into the house. It was just as tumbledown and dirty as the outside. Old furniture stood in tired attention against the walls, and cobwebs dangled from the dull arms of the chandelier. "You got a name?" the woman asked, closing the door without bothering to bolt it. The girl didn't answer. "Come on, kid. I'm talking to you."
"Raven," she said. "My name is Raven."
"Sounds made up. Your mama was Jamison Marie, named after our granddaddy and his wife. I'm Cameron Jo, but you can just call me Aunt Cameron, I suppose," the woman said. Her southern accent twanged the name into 'Cam'ron.' "And I suppose I better be finding you someplace to sleep. You staying long?" Raven just shrugged. Aunt Cam'ron sighed. "There ain't much in this place. But there might be something I can do."
Raven edged her way up the stairs, following her newfound relation. Aunt Cam'ron took her to the second story down a narrow hall and opened a mildewed door. "That'll have to do, I guess," she said. "I ain't particular about mealtimes. Come down to the kitchen and scrounge something up if you're hungry." And then she left.
*****
"You can't stay here any longer, child," Twilight said, smoothing Raven's hair away from the bloody cut on her cheek. "It's too dangerous."
Raven watched her. Twilight's navy hair had gone to pure white in the three and a half years since her brother's death. Her every motion spoke of heartache. "Where can I go?" Raven asked.
"Your aunt."
The twelve-year-old jerked away. "My what?" she repeated.
Twilight pressed the cloth against Raven's gash. "Your mother's name was Jamey Laurence. She was raised by her older sister, your Aunt Cameron," she explained. "I must get you away from here. Away from your father. You have to stay safe. Indigo...Indigo would have wanted you as far away as possible." She sighed, stroking the girl's pale cheek. "If only I had the courage to do it sooner."
Raven shook herself out of her reverie. She couldn't go back now. She tried to focus on something else to take her mind off of home.
The room was falling apart. Crackly wallpaper printed with huge gaudy roses peeled off of the walls. The bits and pieces of furniture were mismatched and dirty. Raven wrote her name in script on the bureau's dust. She thought about lifting the shade of the window to let in some light, but decided not to when she saw a brown spider the size of a penny race around the curl. She shivered and sat down on the bed, trying to ignore the cloud of dust that rose up. A faint scrabble in the wall behind the sagging bed startled her. Raven squinched her eyes tight and decided to go downstairs.
She lost her way a time or two on her way down. The house was much bigger than she thought. But after a time she found the kitchen. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting an orangey glow on the room when she pulled the chain. Raven opened the refrigerator door and moved around the few items, looking for something edible.
"Yes, my dear! You shall be rich, rich beyond your wildest dreams, richer than even me!"
The sudden voice made Raven jump. She closed the door and went in search of the sound.
"My darling, my darling, of course! Madama Camrushka knows all! You will be famous, my darling. Ah! What is this? A vision I am having! Yes, I see you accepting an award. A great and glorious statuette, for you. Yes, I see it."
The voice had a thick Creole accent, patronizing and humble by turns. Raven peeked around the corner. Aunt Cam'ron was sitting at her desk, the phone at her ear, speaking fluidly and waving her arms as her visions grew grander and grander.
"Of course, my darling. All right. Be sure to call Madama Camrushka when the vision come true, yes? Yes. Goodbye." Aunt Cam'ron hung up the phone and slid her piles of cards into one neat deck.
Suddenly she turned around. "Who's there?" she demanded, back to her normal rough Southern voice.
Raven came out from behind the door. "It's just me," she said meekly.
Aunt Cam'ron settled back. "Thought a gator got in the house again," she said. "'Course, they make a heck of a lot more racket than you do." She looked at her niece. "Well? You're wondering what I was doing. So go ahead and ask."
"How did you know?" Raven asked.
Aunt Cam'ron shrugged. "Borderline psychic, sweets. Jamey was better'n me, but she never wanted to try this. Said it was beneath her. But you know what happened to her. She shoulda stuck with hotline readings." She laughed, a horrible and raspy sound, and beckoned to Raven. "Let's see what you got, kiddo. You take the next call."
Heart pounding, Raven sat down and stared at the phone. It rang loudly, jangling and grating on her ears.
"Answer it!" Aunt Cam'ron urged.
Raven picked up the phone, her fingers clutching the cold white grip. "Hello?" she said.
"Is this Madama Camrushka's readings?" a woman's voice asked.
Panicked, Raven looked to her aunt. "Tell her you're my apprentice," Aunt Cam'ron hissed.
"I'm her apprentice," Raven whispered.
"Well?" the woman said. "Are you going to give me my reading?"
Raven fumbled with the cards. They burned her fingers. This was wrong. She just felt that this was wrong. She went back to her usual way of finding out things about people. Quietly, she reached out with her powers and felt the chakra of the woman on the line. "Do you have a son named Brian?" she asked.
"I sure do," the woman said, pleased. "He's eighteen today."
"His car is going to be hit by a drunk driver," Raven said. "He will die."
The woman was silent for a moment. "Is this a joke?" she asked.
"No," Raven said. "It's true."
She was forced to yank the phone away from her ear as the woman screamed. Cuss words barraged her as Aunt Cam'ron pried the telephone from her grip and slammed it down. "What was that about, child?" she demanded.
Raven blinked. "That's what I sensed," she said. "I saw the woman's son."
"She's more powerful than Jamey ever was," Aunt Cam'ron muttered to herself, not caring if her niece heard. "Listen, kid, it doesn't matter what the truth is. You never tell 'em what the truth is. Tell 'em what they want to hear, keep 'em on the line for half an hour, and you'll be getting twenty-five to fifty bucks a call. If you tell 'em things like that bomb, you won't make so much as a cent."
"But it was true," Raven stammered.
Aunt Cam'ron swatted her across the face, yanking open the still- healing cut on her cheek. "You've got to do something to pay for your keep. Even if you're Jamey's kid, I don't got the money to keep you. You help out with the calls, and I'll let you stay here. You got that?" she asked.
Raven only nodded, her hand pressed against her cheek.
*****
She couldn't say she enjoyed living with Aunt Cam'ron, but she got used to it. The days were always the same. During the daylight hours she would sleep or meditate, and during the night she would stay up until two, three, four o'clock in the morning, lying to people. At first it made her conscience burn to do it, but after a while the burn softened into a dull, ever-present ache. She practiced a Cajun accent so thick she could cut it with a knife and learned to answer to the name Mam'selle Rayah. Aunt Cam'ron was pleased with her progress. She bought Raven new clothes, outfits she would never choose on her own, things like midriff shirts and low-slung jeans. As often as she could Raven wore the clothes she brought from home. The earth clothes were worn the few times she went to the local junior high to keep the truant officers away. The school was big enough for her to blend into the background without being noticed.
There was only one thing that kept her alive. Raven discovered the old library of the house. She read constantly. If it had print, she read it, no matter what language it was in. Novels, history books, schoolbooks, anthologies, medical journals- she devoured them all. The old books welcomed her company, and she welcomed their escape.
*****
Raven awoke slowly, her head feeling heavy. Cold fingers were combing through her waist-length hair. She squinted.
"Jamey," Aunt Cam'ron slurred. "My baby princess sister."
"I'm not Jamey. I'm her daughter Raven," she explained.
"You're gonna be a beauty when you grow up, Jamey Jay," Aunt Cam'ron said. "Ain't it the truth. You gonna be the beauty of the family. Never seen a girl prettier'n you, Jamey Jay." Aunt Cam'ron hugged Raven tightly. "Ya promise not ta leave your sister, right? Never leave. Never never never. I raised ya, an' I keep ya forever."
Raven was frozen. Aunt Cam'ron was drunk again. This happened every time. She'd come in her room, calling her Jamey. Then she'd go into her tirade about leaving her. After that Aunt Cam'ron would stagger out of the room, vomit a couple of times, and wake up with a massive hangover, forcing Raven to take over the calls for the day and the night.
All she had to do was wait for it to be over. And then it would start again.
*****
"Come on, baby doll, we're goin' to town."
Raven rubbed her eyes and sat up. Aunt Cam'ron was dressed in the gaudiest clothes she'd ever seen- if you could consider it clothes. She wore a tight gold dress with a plunging halter neckline and a barely there skirt. A green and purple garter was obvious on one of her skinny legs, and her hair was covered with a green and purple headscarf. Immense gold earrings hung to her bare shoulders. "You've gotta get up. We've got business to do," Aunt Cam'ron insisted.
"What business?" Raven asked, climbing out of bed.
"It's Mardi Gras. Every year I go downtown and do my readings and suchlike on the street corner. And this year you're gonna help out." Aunt Cam'ron thrust a heap of slick, shiny cloth into Raven's arms. "Put these on and come downstairs. We don't want to miss getting the best spot."
*****
Raven slunk behind the booth, crossing her arms over her chest. She was freezing in her costume. Hers was even worse than Aunt Cam'ron's. The outfit consisted of a gold bra top with jeweled straps, a low-slung metallic green skirt that barely covered her, and gold and purple spike heels that kept sliding off. Her long hair had been combed straight down her back and her face was painted in a green, purple, and gold butterfly design. She had never felt so ashamed or embarrassed in her life.
"We got a great spot, kiddo!" Aunt Cam'ron crowed, pulling out a dingy crystal ball and a pack of brightly colored cards. "Work on that expression, though. You look more grumpy than mysteriously exotic." She set up her things on the table. "I'll get even more customers this year with you."
Raven scowled and hid even further. A band was playing loudly on the street corner, drowning out any chance of her going into meditation. Aunt Cam'ron grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her back up. "Mam'selle Rayah, we have a customer," she cooed in her fake Creole accent. "Help him, won't you?" She leaned over and hissed in her ear, "Stand up and flirt a little." Aunt Cam'rn let go of her shoulder.
Raven stood up and faked a smile. The man was skinny and disreputable looking. "And what would you like Mam'selle Rayah to find in the stars for you?" she asked.
"If you're the psychic, you tell me," he grimaced.
Buying time, she stared into the crystal ball. The standard options were money, fame, or true love. She decided such a desperate-looking guy would want either the first or the last. "Ah! Mam'selle Rayah can read you clear as book. You are searching for your true love," she said.
"Don't need to be true," the man said. "Just want some lovin'." He raked his eyes over her slim body in the revealing costume. "See yourself in that vision?"
Raven panicked. "No," she said firmly. "Mam'selle Rayah sees nothing. The glass is dark. That'll be ten dollars."
"I'll make it a hundred," the man said, leaning forward.
"No!" she cried, backing away so quickly she knocked over the chair. "You can have your reading free, just leave me alone!"
Sulking, the man melded into the crowd. Raven ran to Aunt Cam'ron, her ankles wobbling in the high heels, and grabbed her wrist. "Aunt Cam'ron, I don't like this," she said.
"Come on, kiddo, live a little," the woman purred. She was standing a little too close to a strange man with green face paint. He was running his hands over her bare back.
"Kid's cute," he said to Aunt Cam'ron. "She dance as good as you?"
Aunt Cam'ron disentangled herself from the man's embrace. "Don't know," she said. "Get up there and dance, honey."
"I don't dance," Raven said.
The man reached over and pinched her cheek. "Aw, be nice, darlin'," he said. "I just wanna see you dance."
"No," Raven said. She had never danced in front of anyone before- only when she was alone in her room back home on Azarath.
"Dance, Rayah," Aunt Cam'ron said. Her voice was honey but her eyes were ice. "You get up there and dance like I says or you'll regret it."
Tears burning in her eyes, she climbed up on the table and danced. There was enough music coming from the street corner band to dance along with. A crowd started to gather, whistling and catcalling at the slender girl dancing on the table. Raven closed her eyes and wished she was anywhere but there.
*****
"Get up."
"What time is it?" Raven asked blearily.
"Doesn't matter," Aunt Cam'ron said. "We'll be heading downtown in a couple of hours, but first I gotta teach you the real way to dance, darlin'. Get dressed and come downstairs."
Raven followed her aunt to what was once the old dining room. Aunt Cam'ron turned on an ancient tape player, and the sounds of a hiphop tape came flooding through the speakers. "You gotta loosen up when you dance," she said. "You're too uptight. Makes you look unapproachable." Aunt Cam'ron swayed her hips to the beat.
"I don't want to dance at all," Raven said. "I don't want to go into town."
"Too bad," Aunt Cam'ron said. "You got me a lotta money yesterday, and if you learn up good then you'll get me even more. So start dancing."
Feeling sick to her stomach, she did. She learned how to move her hips and smile at the same time, how to hold her arms, how to show off her body. Raven bit back the wave of emotions battering her. Twilight would be weeping if she saw her now, a thirteen-year-old girl who had been forced to sell her soul.
Aunt Cam'ron was thrilled by the money that poured in between psychic readings and her niece's dancing. "We're doing real good, kiddo," she said, her speech patterns deteriorating into the local way of talking. "Try showing some skin."
Raven rubbed her bare arms, pressing them against her stomach. "I thought I already was," she said, her voice tight.
"It's good, but not quite. Put your skirt lower, or let one of your straps fall," Aunt Cam'ron suggested. "You're doing great. Maybe I can get you out here to dance more often."
Raven bit back the sobs and obeyed, obeying blindly like she was forced to all her life.
It was nearing one o'clock in the morning when the crowds began to disperse. A cold, steady rain had begun to fall, drenching everything. Aunt Cam'ron started packing their things into her battered sedan. "Rayah, be a honey and get me my crystal ball. It's still back there somewhere," she called.
Raven pushed herself up and went in search of it, her legs aching. The ball was tucked in the back of the booth, right where it had been left. She knelt to pick it up...and a pair of arms slid around her waist from behind.
"Hey, baby," the voice whispered. "I been watching you."
"Get away," Raven screamed, kicking.
Her slight body was no match for the big man. He ran his hands over her cold, rain-slick figure. She screamed, her uncontrolled powers coming out in full. It was enough to push him back.
Raven ran. She kicked off her shoes, running barefoot on the dirty streets. A few partygoers watched her, but none made any attempt to help her. She ran and ran until she collapsed in a quivering little heap in an alleyway, welcoming the darkness that clouded her vision.
She awoke to find it dark and still raining. She would have gone back to sleep were it not for the hand she felt touching her face. "Get away!" she cried hoarsely.
"It's all right, child. I'm not going to harm you," the man said, his voice kind and pleasant. "You don't need to be afraid anymore." He touched her forehead in a loving gesture that reminded her of Twilight and Indigo. "You're going to come with me, little one." He picked her up gently, wrapping a blanket around her.
"Who are you?" she asked, keeping herself as far from him as she could.
"My name is Nik," he said, holding her gently. "I will look after you."
Raven buried her face in his shoulder. He smelled comforting, like cedar wood. Gradually she fell asleep against him.
*****
Cyborg cheered as his points racked up on the . "Yes, yes, yes!" he cheered. "I am whomping you, man!"
Robin slunk down. "Yeah, whatever," he said. "I'll catch up."
Suddenly a knock on the door startled them. The little cars onscreen blew up in a million sparkly pixels as they dropped the consoles.
"We'd better get that," Robin said. The two boys cracked open the door.
"I was wondering if you were ever going to answer," Nik smiled. "Can't I come in?" Robin held the door open wider. Nik stepped in, miraculously dry despite the pouring rain.
"What're you holding?" Cyborg asks. "Is that a person?"
"It is," Nik said. He shifted the small cloaked body in his arms. Gently he lifted the hood away, revealing a delicate little girl sleeping soundly in his arms.
"A new team member?" Robin guessed.
"Exactly," Nik said. Cyborg gazed at her. She was very small and bone- thin, her cheekbones standing out sharply. Long lavender-colored hair hung around her in damp curls. Nik noticed Cyborg staring and touched the girl's cheek. "Beautiful child, isn't she?" he commented. Cyborg nodded.
"What's her name?" he asked.
"Raven," Nik said. He shifted her again; she whimpered slightly. "She's a very sick little girl. You'll have to take good care of her until she's well enough to fend for herself."
"I'll take her," Cyborg said, surprised by his own offer. Nik handed the child to him. She was incredibly light, but her whole body was hot and trembling with fever.
"I'm trusting you two," Nik said. "I'll be back to check on you in a week or so." With that, he vanished. Robin and Cyborg were left alone with an unconscious girl.
"So," Robin said, "what should we do?"
"Probably let her rest," Cyborg said. "I'll carry her upstairs."
"Okay," Robin shrugged. "You keep an eye on her for now."
Cyborg cradled Raven in his arms and carried her to one of the spare rooms upstairs. As gently as he could he laid her down on the bed. She shivered and curled into a tighter ball to get warm. He rested his hand on her forehead; she was burning with fever. Raven whimpered again. "Hey, little girl," Cyborg said. "I'm not gonna hurt you." He draped a blanket over her body. "Robin and I will take good care of you. I promise."
At the sound of his voice Raven blinked slowly. Her eyes were too large and too dark for her pale, thin face. "Indigo?" she whispered hoarsely. She bolted upright. "Indigo, is that you?"
"No, it's-"
"Indigo, where are you?" Raven cried. "Please, I just want to see you again!"
Cyborg's mouth dropped open. The girl buried her face in her hands, her long hair shielding her. Cyborg put his hands on her shoulders. "Sha, love," he whispered, trying to remember the ways his own mother used to comfort him. "Sha, dear-heart. It's all right." Her tiny hot fingers curled around his cold metal ones. He laid her back down on the bed and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. "Go to sleep, Raven. I'll watch over you." Almost instantly she dropped into sleep, exhausted. Cyborg sat next to her, watching her as she slept.
Where did she come from? he wondered. Was she an orphan? Was she abandoned? He wondered about her clothes. She looked like a baby hooker. But he decided to wait for his questions to be answered.
*****
It was a full day before she awoke. Cyborg was with her when she opened her eyes for the first time. "Wh- where am I?" she whispered.
Cyborg touched her forehead. "Your fever's broken," he said, pleased. "You're in the Titans Tower. Nik brought you here. Do you remember him?"
Raven frowned. "I think...I think so," she said. "I remember Aunt Cam'ron...and Mardi Gras...and the...oh!" Her eyes widening in fear, she backed away from him, pulling the blanket up to her neck. "Please don't touch me. I'll give you a reading free, but just don't touch me. I didn't want to dance. It was Aunt Cam'ron's idea."
"What?" Cyborg said. "I don't have any idea of what you're saying, Raven. I don't want a reading, I've never seen you dance, and I have no idea who Aunt Cam'ron is."
Raven relaxed slightly. "Is this...tower in New Orleans?" she asked.
"Nope. Oregon," Cyborg told her. "Closer to California, actually. You can even see the Cali beaches from the windows upstairs."
Now Raven had relaxed enough to lean against the pillows and look up at him. Her long lavender hair hung over her shoulders to her waist. She was still wearing the bedraggled costume she'd worn that long-ago night in New Orleans, the gold top drooping over her tiny breasts. Cyborg felt bad for her. She looked like such a baby, but her eyes were old beyond her years.
There was a knock on the door. Nik came in, Robin at his heels. "Hello, Raven," Nik greeted, touching her hand. "I see you're getting acquainted with Cyborg. Here's the other member of the team. This is Robin." Raven nodded, almost shy. Nik's big, rough hands were gentle as he stroked her hair. "Your fever's gone down, but you should stay in bed for a while, little one," he told her. "The boys will take good care of you."
Raven nodded in thanks again. With a tilt of his head, Nik instructed the boys to leave. "Now, child," Nik said. "Tell me. How can we help you?"
"I don't need help," Raven said sullenly, sinking down in the soft bed that miraculously was not dusty nor smelled like dead leaves. "I was doing fine on my own."
"Fine?" Nik repeated. "Your aunt was using you. She exploited you. How old are you, child? Ten? Eleven?"
"Thirteen," she said, not daring to look up.
"You're so young. Too young to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders." Raven still didn't look up, but she didn't pull away when Nik held her hand. He had a very gentle, fatherly way about him that calmed her down. "You'll be living here from now on, child. You'll be a an."
"A Teen what?" Raven tried to ask, but she was interrupted by a yawn. Nik laughed softly and pulled the blankets around her.
"You'll find out soon enough. But for now, go to sleep," he said. Raven was only too willing to obey.
*****
Robin glanced up. "Hey," he said, smiling. "Are you sure you're ready to be up yet?"
The slight girl nodded. "I'm fine," she said. She was as skinny as a stick and her face was still as white as paper.
"You like the clothes Nik found for you?" Robin asked.
Raven nodded, but didn't say anything else. "The belt's a little big," she commented. It was too large to cinch around her tiny waist, so it hung to one side of her narrow hips.
Robin opened his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by the beeping of the Titans alarm. Cyborg poked his head in. "Where's the trouble?" he asked.
"Downtown," Robin said. "Looks like it's the library."
"The library?" Cyborg repeated. "What bad thing could happen in a library?"
"No idea," Robin shrugged. "Oh, well. Titans, GO!"
Raven followed them, looking a little bemused.
*****
Nik was ready for the call. He picked up his phone and answered it on the first ring.
"She has no idea how to fight."
Nik smiled. He could practically see the sulking look on Robin's face. "I know," he said, enjoying the moment.
"You knew? You knew that that little girl is a liability waiting to happen? You knew that she could have gotten us all killed? You knew that she would need us to come and rescue her?" Robin shouted. "Why didn't she defend herself?"
"She doesn't know how," Nik said.
"Doesn't know how to defend herself?" Robin repeated, incredulous. "Why not?"
"Raven has spent her entire life controlled. Controlled by her powers, by her fears, by people who exploit her. She can't defend herself from them. I want you to not only teach her how to defend herself, but teach her how to be free."
There was a long pause. "We'll take care of her," Robin said.
Author's Note: Raven is my favorite character and her part came a lot easier to me. But it seems to be PG-13. Sorry. Anyway...Beast Boy is next!