30Kisses Theme Ficlets

Robin/Raven

By Kysra

Theme #22 (cradle): Love

Note: This is meant to follow theme #10: Baby.

The only clue they had been given was a large, understored 10 written on a single sheet of folded paper, and it had been two weeks since they figured out what it all meant.

Robin watched Raven closely as she held the baby cradled gingerly in her arms, the hold natural and secure. She, of all the Titans, had become the most attached to the infant boy.

His name was Edward Dieci who's young mother worked as an on-location nurse at the Jump City Orphanage which just happened to stand at the corner of 10th and Rapini Streets. Apparently, the woman often brought her newborn to work with her since her husband was in the military an stationed across the globe. When she noticed that administration was giving her baby strange looks and perspective adopting couples were asking questions about her baby's health history, she began to investigate growing suspicions. Discovering that the orphanage staff was involved in an underground baby adoption ring, she sought safety for her baby who - much to her alarm - was slated for pick-up within the next few days, leaving the child with the city's resident heroes while she tried to get the authorities to do something.

Five months later, the Titans were contacted by the police commissioner explaining the situation and provided with the necessary evidence. (There were not about to give the baby over to someone who might not be a parent).

It had been Starfire who broke the "joyful" news to Raven, and it had been Beast Boy to give the first "whoop" of glee to finally be rid of the relatively new addition. The baby seemed to quiet only with Raven who had tried to explain that the key to comforting in the seemingly bad tempered child was melodic sounds such as a heartbeat or hummed song, warmth and cuddles. The baby wanted to feel loved and secure. Griping at him would do nothing but provoke more crying. However, as Raven was the only soul in Titan's Tower to silence the baby long enough for the others to get some much needed rest, she was the one relegated to being the boy's primary caretaker.

Robin had been surprised when the Dark Witch took to her new position with something akin to relish. She set up a makeshift basinet in her room, went shopping for baby supplies, walked around with a baby sling across her chest, and made sure the pantry was stalked with baby formula. It wasn't that her character had changed but that there was a new dimension to it. The Boy Wonder would catch her simply staring at the infant while he was asleep with an almost . . . yearning expression. He would wake in the night to find her holding the child and singing to him softly or feeding him with his pudgy cheek against a bare breast.

She was almost . . . motherly, but not quite. There was still a distance there, discernable by a willingness to let him sleep through feeding times and the subtle lack of protectiveness and terms of endearment. More a caring older sister who was trying her best but falling short, Robin decided. Yet, her behavior in and of itself intrigued him, which was why he observed her so intensely as they approached the baby's mother.

Slowly, the baby transferred from Raven to the crying, thankful young woman before them, and Edward was the recipient of a thousand butterfly kisses. Rebecca Dieci was petite and overly thin with too many worry lines and frizzy hair. There was an air of affection that seemed to surround her, a selflessness that seemed to permeate her every move and expression. She met each of their gazes directly, thanking them solemnly before turning to face Raven and embracing the dark-clad girl with a bone-crushing hug, the baby sandwiched between them.

Raven merely smiled her tiny half-smile as the other woman pulled away, replying that, "We were both fortunate." She then made a strange gesture, placing her hand upon little Edward's brow and trailing her palm against his face before resting her fingertips upon his lips and speaking a word Robin did not understand.

Hours later, Robin approached Raven's room to help her dismantle the basinet (really an excuse for an opportunity to ask her if she was handling the baby's absense well). He knocked, and she let him in without a word - another surprise.

"I'm fine, Robin," she spoke clearly, unexpectedly, breaking the silence.

He shot her a sheepish grin. "Am I that obvious?"

"No. I was expecting you would want to know."

"Ah."

They got to work on the basinet, not speaking for long moments as Robin fished for ways to open a conversation and Raven inwardly smirked in amusement at Robin's expense.

"You want to know what I said back there."

Startled, the boy paused then answered in the affirmative.

"It's an old Azarathian blessing, rarely given. In the Azarath I grew up in there was no need for wishes of a peaceful future. Considering his life began with much conflict, I wanted to ensure Edward would have a better life to come." She watched her companion carefully. "You also want to know what I meant when I said, 'We were both fortunate,' to Mrs. Dieci."

"Are you a mind reader now?" There was irritation in his voice, but she knew it was a facade.

"No. I can feel your confusion."

He looked away momentarily. "If it's too personal --"

"No. I meant that Edward and I were fortunate because we were both taken from our mothers by circumstances beyond our control but ended up with people capable of caring for us in the end. I had Azar, and he had me." She busied herself with a particularly stubborn screw as she felt Robin's stare burn into her.

Suddenly, there was a glove-clad hand on her wrist, and she set down the screwdriver slowly as he spoke, "You loved him."

"I can't love," she answered honestly. "He reminded me of something I did not realize I missed."

"What?"

"When I was little, Azar often left me to care for the babies at the Temple nursery. She thought it would be good practice in learning to control my empathy. Babies are very . . . loud in crying and in projecting their feelings."

"If it was painful, you should have told us! We would have hel--" He was silenced by the hand she held up.

"It wasn't painful. When I looked after those infants at Temple, I was bombarded so . . . instead of trying to deal with it, I would block them. It took a fairly long time to realize that blocking solved nothing when it came to beings with no self-control at all. I had to learn to comfort them, and . . . eventually I was rewarded with something far greater than a stronger hold on my talents."

She shared a long glance with Robin before continuing, "I can't feel my own emotions, but I can feel others'. The most raw feelings I've ever felt have come from infants. Theirs are emotions in their purest forms, and they give their feelings freely, without hesitation. If they're angry, everyone will know they're angry. If they're happy, you'll hear their laughter clearly in a crowded room. If they're sad, there is nothing anyone can do to quiet their wailing."

Robin gave a low whistle, comprehending. "He loved you."

Raven's mouth twitched as she nodded. "Yes. And . . . in a way, it reminded me of Azar's love. Pure, like a bolt of lightning or a warm blanket wrapped around me. Beautiful. He made me feel worthy."

The hand on her wrist tightened. "Raven . . . "

"I just hope he could feel something besides indifference from me."

Memories . . . a yearning look, a soft lullaby in the dark, cradled against her heart, held close against her skin . . . Robin's hand fell away as he tried a smile for her. "I know he did."

Gray lips curved into a grateful smile as silence fell again as they began to dismantle the baby's bed once again.