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Waste Not, Want Not
Chapter 4: I would like to help you…
She frowned. She had been certain when she left that she had taken it with her...
Malchior.
Damn that dragon.
Raven had tucked the book away in her satchel and assumed it was still there, taking off for the day to spend it where she always did: in the park. It was not as dark as the places she used to frequent when a part of the teen titans, but back then she had lived in a place that was in its own way very much like a park, relatively cheerful and zany.
Now she lived in darkness and sometimes it got to her.
She sighed.
Without the book she had little else to do but people watch and beyond a certain extent, this bored her. Fortunately—or unfortunately as she would have debated if anyone asked her—the sun was doing its job in a jovial fashion that afternoon and soon waved through the leaved tree branches above her in warming rays. The natural warmth lulled her into a daze, and then into a bit of a limbo until finally her eyes drooped to a state of complete closure as a cat nap consumed her.
Cherry blossoms swirled down from the branches and they looked like pale pink snow.
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It had to have been some hours later when she woke, roused by a clamor being made by a passing group of people her age. They looked oddly familiar to her and she rubbed her eyes, distastefully flicking sleep out of them and then focused on the young adults.
Then it hit her.
Now, the thing to do was turn and walk away or better yet, pretend she was a part of the tree that she sat with her back against, now rigid, until they were completely gone.
Fate laughed at her as Richard Grayson peered past the shoulder of the very pretty redhead who was latched onto his arm, only to spot Raven, sitting as composed as composed could be.
Or like a dead duck.
Either would suffice at this point.
She groaned to herself as he beckoned her over even as his crowd continued moving, oblivious.
As usual, she thought with a tinge of sad recollection and pasted on her expressionless face. The easiest way to deal with things that were not meant to be dealt with, that could not be dealt with, was to pretend they didn't exist.
And it wasn't hard when they really didn't exist to anyone but you and the one being that took them away.
"Hey Rae," he greeted her, the picture of congeniality.
"Richard," she nodded tersely and heard him laugh.
"Moody?" he questioned, either not aware of or ignoring the imploring and curious looks of Star and the other two guys with them.
"Peachy," she replied stiffly. Okay, maybe she should lighten it up a bit. After all, the idea was for them not to recognize her. "Where are you headed?" There, that was something she never would have done before: pursued further information that she perceived as useless.
"The mall," he said somewhat sheepishly with a faint jerk of his head in Star's direction who slapped his shoulder.
"The boys want games," Star—once the brilliant Starfire—motioned toward the other two, who Raven also recognized with a pang.
They would, she let a sad and small smile slip by. It was so small no one noticed.
Except for a certain blue eyed vigilante of the night.
But she didn't know that he noticed and so as many things that are key or pivotal, it seemed to get pushed to the backburner.
"Well I should be going," Raven said lamely and turned to go after a curt nod at Star and Richard—Starfire and Robin. She felt a flush rush through her and confusion as well when a hand laid itself firmly but insistently on her shoulder. "Don't touch me," she barely whispered. That tender gesture alone brought back a flood of memories no one else could recall and she was stricken in that moment. Richard was the only one near enough to hear both her plea and the tone in it.
He sensed the wise path would be to adhere but not inquire so he simply continued on, if a little more consciously as he removed his hand almost imperceptibly.
"Come with us," she didn't have to turn to match his voice to his unmasked eyes.
"I don't know," Raven said, continuing her reserved nature, eyes darting from one ex titan to the next.
This was not good.
"Yes, please do. I should like to know more of a friend of Richard's," Star persisted as well and Raven's response was automatic.
So not good.
"We are not friends. We had about a cumulative five minutes of conversation over an hour's worth of tea." Her voice held no emotion.
Creepy, her newfound peers thought in a chorus, unknowingly.
For some reason, Richard Grayson took that personally and falling into a character he wasn't entirely familiar with, he withdrew his arm from Star's gentle hold and crossed his arms.
"You don't mean that," he said with a haughtiness reminiscent of a certain boy wonder.
"Oh but I do," Raven added a scowl for effect and there was a moment in there when she thought he might have bought it.
"Come on dark girl, live a little," a simultaneously new and old voice teased and Raven flinched as if struck. The man once known to her as Cyborg took this to mean she had taken offense at the nickname and offered a mumbling apology, not knowing it was that her heart wrenched itself in two upon hearing one of his old nicknames for her.
It made her long for the past with a sharp ache she had just barely managed to push away after distancing herself from Richard's hand on her shoulder only moments before.
"Fine, but only for a bit," she conceded and there was much rejoicing, or something like it.
Not good, she thought worriedly, very much hoping Malchior wasn't in one of his gregarious moods and out on the town that day.
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"And then BOOM!" Garfield Logan—the former beast boy—excitedly gave his three companions a play by play of how he had thoroughly 'whooped' his friend Victor Stone in the most recent of arcade games. Victor being one of the three that the young man was so animatedly relaying the story to, did not find it half so amusing, protesting all the while and claiming that it was a sure fire thing the gloater had cheated.
"You kept on beating when Jinx called!" Cyborg sent him a death glare.
Raven jerked at the name and blue eyes questioned her for the millionth time that afternoon over Star's shoulder. For some reason he could not keep his eyes off of her, even in front of Star, and the redhead was beginning to notice.
"Well, you should've called her back. You know what they say, all's fair in video games and pizza!" Beast Boy said confidently. At this, Richard arched a brow at his friend.
"Pizza?" It made sense in a silly way, but come on...
"You know, always at least one person who wants the last slice but only one person can have it, total sudden-death scenario!" Beast Boy grinned widely, alluding to yet another video game, if an older one.
"Fighting for truth, justice and the last piece of pizza, how noble," Raven teased and Richard laughed. Star shot him a look that seemed to say 'what the Hell is going on here?'
It was only then that he remembered he had told his girlfriend nothing of the enigmatic bookshop employee and so it must be ten times as strange to see him so friendly so early on. He wondered if she had heard Raven's earlier comment about the tea.
As for Star, it wasn't that she had something against the dark girl, not really.
She didn't even know this 'Rae.'
It was more what she had against someone coming purposefully or otherwise between her and her boy. Star laced her arm through Richard's subtly once more and relaxed somewhat when he did not try to slip away again, even if his eyes were on the amethyst eyed girl more than she would have preferred.
"That sounds a bit dodgy," he commented to Raven conversationally. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but only barely. If only you knew, boy blunder, she thought.
"What?" his voice interrupted her thoughts.
"What?" she repeated his question.
"What did you just say? I couldn't hear you very well," he explained.
"What do you think I said?" she asked, a point to her madness this time, a sneaking worry, a hunch...
"Uh, well, I thought you called me a blunder or a blender or something," he scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.
"Nope," she lied and cursed Malchior for not doing a more thorough job of wiping the slates clean.
She still had her bond—however weak it may have become after time and separation—with the young man called Richard Grayson.
Shit.
"Oh well, never mind," he seemed embarrassed and Raven's eyes twinkled a bit. It had always been fun to watch him squirm and he had not done it often before...this was a side of Robin she doubted existed in the old one, or was at least very effectively buried.
After the group had been utterly dragged through the mall twice over, Richard found himself asking a noticeably quiet Raven if there was anywhere she would like to go. She told him that was quite alright and that she would be on her way. He said they could all walk out with her since they were done and she agreed, but on their way to the exit a new game apparatus distracted the two louder teens and they stampeded in, a four footed mass of excitement—or two biped, whichever you might be more likely to see stuck rifling through these new items.
"I'll wait out here," she said to them in a way that suggested arguing was not wise and so there she sat, on the edge of one of the inside fountains, looking at nothing in particular, when his voice crept into her.
His voice.
"Out for play time, sweet Raven?" he whispered against her ear and she fumed.
"I am not your Raven and it's none of your business," she replied tartly.
"You are my business," Malchior said. He perched on the fountain ledge beside her.
"Why are you here?"
"Just keeping an eye on what is mine," he answered truthfully and looked at her thoughtfully, silver white eyes swirling in the way they got when a blue tint would shade them.
"I belong to no one," Raven said coldly as his hand reached out for her cheek and she turned her head way. His frown did not go unnoticed as she proceeded t hen to stand up as though to leave.
"We are not finished here," he warned her.
"I think we are," she ignored his warning.
"Raven," he used her normal name to snap her back to reality.
"Malchior," she returned, stubborn as a mule and much less forgiving. He advanced; she took a couple steps back and then to the right and then back toward the store the others had gone in. Her heart lurched down to her stomach at the thought of him finding them there and learning of them and perhaps getting rid of them from her life in a more permanent fashion.
In her panic, she stumbled...tripped...fell.
"Gotcha," a warm voice assured her and from behind and her spirits both lifted and plummeted at the same time. She glanced up in time to see ice betray the underlying anger of Malchior's eyes as he glared at her savior: Richard, of course. She nearly jumped away from him.
"T-thanks," she mumbled and then, "I'm sorry, I have to leave...now!" And she ran. She ran away from him hoping to draw Malchior's attention once more, to draw it away from the man who knew no more of her than her bookworm tendencies and somewhat aloof attitude, to keep them all safe as they could be any more.
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She ran and she didn't stop until she reached the tree in the park at which point she fell to her knees.
Raven let a vaguely bitter smile loose. Running really had never been her thing.
The sun had set an hour or two ago and starlight filtered across the sky, winking in and out at her, paling in the presence of a nearly full moon as slowly she gathered her legs out from under her hand settled beneath and against the tree again, much like she had done that afternoon. Pulling her knees to her, she sighed. A part of her was relieved that Malchior was not in sight and another part was worried he had stayed and caused trouble for her pseudo-new friends.
Well, they were not new to her, but she was new to them.
A grimace set itself upon her face as the twisted and painful feeling returned to her chest and shocked, she felt pressure build behind her eyes, a stinging sensation and then warm trickles escape.
She was crying.
And she hated herself the more. The old Raven did not cry, did not back down. The old Raven could take care of these things. She pulled her arms around her, feeling vulnerable and lost, wanting nothing more than to wake up from the ongoing bad dream that had such poignant moments of hope—like meeting her friends again—that having them in danger of being taken away again by Malchior made her heart break.
There was no way she could go through that again and live.
"Rae?" The voice was worried but she still flinched, drawing herself closer and further burying her face in the hiding place of her arms. "Rae, come on," the voice encouraged softly. She heard footsteps approach and tried to back away blindly until she realized she really couldn't; her back was solidly against the tree still. A familiar hand rested itself on her shoulder. "Rae, it's okay. It's just me."
She looked up and again amethyst locked with sapphire. He reached out a tentative hand and wiped away a few of her straying tears and he told her, "I waited until your boss left. I don't think he followed me." Raven refrained from saying that a sorcerer had little need to follow anyone if he really wanted something, much less Malchior, but she let it slide—not that it would make sense if she did tell him anyway. When she did not uncurl from her fetal-reminiscent position, Richard frowned. "What happened?"
"Nothing. You saw. I just wanted to get away," she lied through her teeth for what was probably the hundredth time that day, but what could she do other than that? Her entire reality was one huge secret, one huge lie.
"I don't buy that," he said obstinately and settled down in front of her, leaning on his hands as he looked at her calculatedly, some of his bangs falling into his eyes, the cheap hair gel losing its gravity-defying effects. While Raven tried to think of another excuse he questioned himself. What was he doing? He had practically abandoned the others, including an upset Star, in order to go running for the second time after this nearly perfect stranger of whom the most he knew of was her name, being 'Rae' and even that he had his suspicions about.
Where was this all supposed to lead?
He watched carefully as Raven shifted her weight, loosed her arms and sighed, pushing a section of hair behind her ear that stubbornly refused to stay put, only falling right back in front of her face again. She blew at it and scowled and that action elicited what was to be the beginning of a strange feeling in Richard Grayson. It was only the beginnings of it, but it was distinct and at that moment, while he did not know what to call it, he found it both unsettling and endearing.
Like her.
"Tell me the truth," he prompted her, eyes cutting through to her soul. Raven swallowed hard.
Well, gee, I'd love to, she thought wryly, but I can't, and this part was thought sadly. Wait, maybe she could get around the truth and be speak in half-truths...
"I'm afraid of him," she said in reference to Malchior and that at least, was completely honest of her.
Something, that strange feeling again, told him that Raven did not usually admit such things.
"Why?" he pressed gently. Her eyes flickered at him and for an instant he saw what he was never meant to see: glass-fragile darkness, pain, sadness and fear, but above all, loss. He told himself that the tight feeling in his chest was sympathy when her fair face turned to hide away from him again.
"We do not have the healthiest of relationships," she said slowly and hoped Richard was at least unlike from Robin enough to not pick up too acutely on her entirely cryptic nature.
A few minutes passed. She had the lack of foresight to think herself home-free...
"Does he hurt you?" He finally asked and his blue eyes gained a flinty edge as his voice dropped to a whisper that spoke of concern and anger at the thought. Again, she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
"Yes and no," Raven decided and her own purple orbs told Richard he would find out little else that night.
"You don't have to stay with him," he offered a solution to a problem he could not conceive of.
"I do," she replied softly. For you, she added mentally, carelessly.
"You don't have to do anything for me, much less stay with that bastard," Richard said in snap-response to her thought. She blanched and pulled her best expression of confusion.
"Why would I do that for you? I hardly know you," she said. Richard wondered briefly if he were losing his mind. Hadn't she just...didn't he hear her...
He rubbed his temples, frustrated.
"I thought you said..." he trailed off, unsure now.
"Thank you for your concern, but it can't be helped," Raven insisted with her old unmoving way that seemed familiar to Richard and he told himself it must have been how she acted the night they went out for tea, her aloof and detached tone. But he would not let her get away so easily. She stood to go and his hand reached out to clasp her wrist, not harshly, but firmly. Her eyes shot up to his, startled and to his dismay, fearful.
"I would like to help you, Rae," he persisted and he wondered at the same time why he persisted so. He hardly knew her. His life was going decently. Star was waiting for him, surely, back at the apartment.
What could he possibly have to gain from this?
But that name he had thought buried forever that escaped her lips that night when she thought herself alone still echoed in his head: "...Robin."
How could he ignore such a thing? The sleuth in him could not and something in his soul would not.
"You can't," she let emotion show again, eyes welling up again. She cursed her human side and its weakness. This was not who she had grown up being, not who she was comfortable being. This breakable shell of her former self was nothing like the Raven the team once depended on for her analytical skills and strength of mind and iron will.
She was a strange unto herself.
"I will," he responded directly and to her combined horror and amazement, he pulled her to him.
Stop, stop, stop…his mind warned. You have safety. You have Star. You are happy.
Something of that voice in his mind seemed not his own and one more spared scrutiny of the dark girl he held at less than arms' length told him he could not possibly be happy with such sadness in those amethyst eyes.
It broke his heart beyond reasonable means.
For, he reminded himself again, we are but strangers. Breaking down what was left of her resolve, he pulled her yet closer and Raven found herself being embraced by the man she had long thought lost to her forever. When his arms let go of her slightly, she looked up.
"You will, won't you?" she could not deny him any more. Her soul would shatter.
He nodded and held her again. It could have been a friend's embrace, a brother's, a cousin's.
It could have been.
But as often is the case, to the two bizarrely tangled birds under the cherry blossom tree, it was more and the petals that drifted down now, bathed in night and moonlight, had turned from pale pink to an otherworldly lilac. Richard wondered how long they stood there, wondered at the familiarity of her, wondered at the emotions rolling back and forth inside him, wondered at the perfect fit of her against him.
He wondered, was it worth risking such security with Star and his life now to delve into what was the real life of Rae Roth and when her slight arms finally encircled him as best they could, returning his embrace, he had his answer.
After all, it wasn't like he loved the girl…was in love with her.
He only wanted to help.
That was it, of course. And he would tell Star as much.
He was, after all, telling himself that, if with an iron resolve he did not feel.
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Later that night, after he had let the shadowed girl go with a promise of meeting again at the cherry blossom tree soon, he had walked aimlessly around, trying to figure out what to say to his girlfriend he could not remember ever being without. With a set mind, he turned homeward. He told himself that Star might not like it, but she would understand, surely. He and Rae were friends and as his friend, she needed his help. Star would understand. She had to. She was, after all, the most understanding person he knew. But it must be noted that Richard Grayson had never before been faced with a jealous Star—and according to his memory, never a jealous Starfire either—and so he had little past experience to go on.
He unlocked the door, entered. There was the lovely green-eyed redhead, sitting on a stool at the kitchen's bar, chin in her hands as she glance up at his arrival. She slid off the stool with a catlike grace and walked over to him and without a word, brought him down for a kiss. After a moment's worth of this, he broke away.
"What was that for?" he asked, confused. Yelling maybe, more likely quiet hurt, but he had not at all expected that.
"Do you love me still?" she asked with unusual quiet. His heart missed a few beats, in the bad way.
"What kind of question is that?" He hated being cornered; he did it often to the villains he faced in the night or even the competitors of business during the day, but when he was cornered himself, his defenses shot up.
"I'm worried, Rich. You haven't been yourself lately. You lock yourself in your room, obsessing over who knows what and then you leave tonight for several hours, hours Richard, to go after some girl you don't even know. What is going on?" her voice broke.
"Rae is a friend. She needed...she needs my help," he offered feebly. Star's eyes switched from morose to something more driven by resentment.
"Help me to understand Richard how you are so attached to her. Is she really a stranger? Or is she an old flame maybe? Tell me, please because I feel I am missing something of grave importance here," she said in a tone he had not heard her use before: upset anger.
"I don't know, Star. She's not an old flame, she is a stranger, I am aware of how strange this seems. Hell, I think it's strangest of all, you know? But I can tell when someone needs help. I can, and I can't help but offer. You know me," he said softly and that last sentence melted her.
He said she knew him.
Star knew Rich.
Rich knew Star.
They were an immaculate couple, destined to always see the sunrise together.
That was the idea anyway and it was through no real fault of either of the young one's that neither could seem to recall what would always be the deep down truth, no matter how many times they forgot or were forced to forget.
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The deep down truth was that Richard Grayson of the flying Graysons, Robin, Dick, Nightwing, Red X...all of him, was only truly known by one person with deep violet eyes, a person who spent the night that the couple spent making up, looking at her one well hidden photograph: it had a boy with funny ears and a green coloring, a half cybernetic man, a gleeful purple clad alien with a bottle of mustard, herself, and a masked boy blunder with hardly enough fashion sense to stuff in a matchbox.
A knock came at her door.
"Go away," she said.
"Raven," Malchior sighed. He had done it again and part of him blamed it on himself while the rest he blamed on the other titans. If perchance she had never run into them again, he had the relentless belief that he might have won her over again, slowly, but surely. Now such hopes were dashed and as usual, anger was his fall back. "Raven," there was a cutting quality to his tone this time. She cracked her door open an inch after stuffing the photo under a secret compartment in her floor.
"What?" she asked. He reached hand inside her door to frame her face. She recoiled.
"Goodnight, sweet Raven," he said and with what might be mistaken as a chaste kiss on her lips, he retired to his own rooms.
Review if you've got a sec to do so please! Thanks and hope to get the next chapter out soon-ish.