Author's Note: One reviewer said chapter Three gave the impression that I was trying too hard and I'm completely inclined to agree. I had written two scenes that couldn't really be integrated together well…I hope this one is much better (I write notes before I write the story…) And these lyrics, in my opinion, are perfect. Another note: "No One Mourns The Wicked" is a really beautiful song, if they would just remove the backstory.
Now that I've finished writing this chapter, I have to say that instead of fixing the "forced" feeling, I think I've emphasized it. There are so many things I need to cut out of here, but I'll just post anyway. No beta to turn to, you see. Epilogue—necessary?
Chapter Four
Just for this moment
As long as you're mineCome be how you want to
And see how bright we shine
As Long As You're Mine, Wicked! the Musical
Any lesser girl would have blushed and avoided him like the plague. Not to say Raven did not blush around him or avoid him or acted unnaturally towards him in anyway (it got to the point where Cyborg, though the most sensible inhabitant of the Tower, couldn't help from commenting, "You two act like you kissed each other accidentally and liked it." Beastboy, for once, had to agree. Starfire had piped up, "Yes, like those romance shampoos on the television!" "That's 'soaps,' Star." "Oh, yes, of course!").
Raven did all those things any lesser girl would do. Therein lies the problem,he noted wryly. To a lesser girl, he could shrug it off or dismiss it as friendly concern. Only, Raven was no lesser girl. Whatever that kiss had been or meant, it had been more than…impulse, for a lack of a better term (friendly concern, my ass). Hell, it wasn't even a kiss; a peck, I tell you, a peck!
Damn it all.
The lull in crime was over and the villains plaguing the city were back once more with pointless vigor. It didn't mean the Titans had an easier time sending them back to jail; it simply reaffirmed how cocky, er, confident he was. Naturally, he wasn't able to talk to Raven until much later in the evening.
They were all watching a movie while he went to train. He had stopped by for water; Raven was sitting on the arm of the couch (quite comfortably), but scanning her spellbook with eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Occasionally, she glanced about her surroundings—the Titans, Silkie, the television, him—and paused. A contemplative gaze was in her eyes, then, almost as if she was studying him. He returned it of course, giving her a pleading, puppy-dog smile…causing her to narrow her eyes and frown in that nervous way again, going back to her spellbook with dogged determination.
Then Dr. Light showed up, and Raven went by herself, shutting off the alarm as she went out. He came out of the training room a minute later, asking why they were all still lounging. Beastboy looked at him, jerking his thumb behind his shoulder.
"That-a-way, dude," he motioned, but the distraction allowed Cyborg to gain a massive lead. With a sharp glance at the screen, Beastboy, turned the GameStation off and on again.
Robin murmured his thanks, even as Cyborg's yelling drowned everything else out.
.:x:.
All superheroes had some strange infatuation with the rooftops of the big city. And, as Batman's protégé, Robin supposed he was no different. The sky was growing dark, and it wouldn't do to leave Raven by herself, just in case.
He didn't really bother to keep hidden; Raven was bound to notice anyway. It was hard to explain, the fact that he was sitting on the rooftop, staring down into the street. He should have been down there with her. And yet, there was something so wonderful about it—so free. It just wasn't his burden anymore.
A wave of guilt washed over him as he heard Raven's angry cry.
He bore the burden once more.
For Robin, it was always pride. Bruce wouldn't have understood. Robin needed to prove his worth to himself; every failure was a measure of his incompetence. Bruce had accepted long ago his imperfection; some sinners were not judged, some believers were not saved, some innocents were not spared. Richard could not. At some point, Robin broke—failed. Batman had understood; perhaps he should leave Gotham for a while? It was wholly unexpected when Bruce received the call, but at that point, the Tower had already been set up and huge sums of money had withdrawn from one of the accounts.
Raven, he remembered, wanted to atone for her sins. She already did, didn't she?
Of course, that same logic could be applied to anyone.
As he turned his attention to the battle at hand, he noticed Dr. Light creeping toward the middle of the intersection…where the spectators had gathered to watch Raven, naturally, kick ass…Robin understood all too quickly what was going to happen. Instantly, he reacted, but soon realized any action would do no good—he was on a rooftop after all, too high to do anything but watch. Thankfully, the apartment only had a few floors and wasn't too high; frantically, he raced down the stairs to the street below.
.:x:.
Raven did not attribute intelligence to such a petty villain such as Dr. Light. His dodges and silly, panicked attempts to reason with her merely reinforced the fact. But like any bad guy, he wasn't below using innocents as bait to achieve his ends. He backed away from her into the intersection, just when she thought he had been cornered. She thought he had been trying to escape, and his next action came as a surprise.
You underestimated him, Raven thought.
He had chosen his victim and pulled her roughly by the arm—a little girl, hardly older than five, who had dropped her teddy on the curb. His whip, already crackling with light energy, was dangerously near the girl's throat.
"Amy!" a couple in the crowd screamed. The frightened parents in the crowd clung protectively to their little ones as a panicked father yelled loudly to the girl. The nearby mother stood next to him, pale and wide-eyed.
"Let the girl go, Doctor," she said, icily, "and I promise not to kill you."
Light took a step back, that flicker of insanity creeping back into his eyes. Just as easily, he regained composure, and replied smoothly, "Better come quick, this little girl is not willing to die, I should think."
On cue, Amy retorted, "I'm not scared!" She shook her other fist at her kidnapper to prove it.
Even to her, the madman was little more than a pathetic freak. Raven smirked.
"Be brave, sweetheart!" Daddy was encouraging, and he looked to Raven for support. The silent mother also turned to the resident heroine, and the look on her face was enough to send a shiver down Raven's spine.
It was a vacant expression, true, but the girl immediately felt a deep fear from inside the woman. She was helpless to protect the child she loved dearly. The mother bit her lip anxiously, but stared at Raven with a cool gaze. She realized that she was not able to do anything; in that moment, she entrusted Raven with her child's life.
The knowledge, though a common one for any hero, was overwhelming. Suddenly, this one toddler mattered more to Raven than the entire city.
She looked closely. Light's attempt was hasty and a last resort; she could easily have rescued the girl (who was bothering her captor more than anything) and sent him off to jail.
But Raven knew better—or did she feel worse? Some unexplainable, human terror crept into her soul, and though the opportunity was there, she could not take it. So long as Light had a human shield, she needed a miracle to regain the upper hand.
It came from the alley—a flash of vermilion and a hint of bright green. Raven narrowed her eyes menacingly—Dr. Light gulped—but inwardly she could faint from the relief.
Robin was sneaking up, now, close, but not that close. The crowd of people began to notice him, and Raven hope they wouldn't blow his cover.
"You're new to attempted murder," Raven pointed out nonchalantly. Amy's father let out a cry of horror. "Don't do it fast enough and get caught—which you definitely will—and you'll end up in someplace a lot more horrifying than the local jail."
But Dr. Light, pathetic and loony as he was, was not completely brain-dead. "You won't risk it." He was backing away slowly, towards his exit. Suddenly, he turn his head sideways—perhaps an attempt to check whether the police department was still aiming guns at him.
Sooner or later, he was going to spot Robin.
Raven sucked in a breath.
But before Raven could react, some object whizzed by her and landed in front of the villain. It was too badly thrown to have any damaging effect, but it was so surprising that both Dr. Light and Raven paused to stare.
A red heel?
"Leave my daughter alone, you bas—–"
Raven couldn't hear the rest. The moment had provided a good distraction, enough for Amy to wriggle out from Dr. Light's hand and enough for Raven to snatch her and fly her up into the sky. Amy seemed to like that.
Robin, meanwhile, ran in and threw in his boomerang, attacking with his staff. Dr. Light tried to use his whip, but his weapon was quickly encased in a cloud of darkness. It floated out of his reach, until it began spinning and wrapping itself around Dr. Light's ankles.
Robin had grabbed Dr. Light's wrists from behind and then pulled sharply before twisting them. Dr. Light gave a yelp of pain before losing balance and falling to the ground. Raven tried not to show her relief as the crowd cheered.
"All right, kid?"
The boisterous girl turned suddenly shy. "Yes. My name's Amy."
Raven turned, and gave a little grin. "I know."
.:x:.
Robin met them as the two touched the ground. "You dropped your teddy, y'know?"
Raven smirked as Amy blushed red. "Thank you, Robin," she said, even more shyly. Raven smirked and looked over to her partner. Another addition to the club, huh? Robin grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Raven did not need to ask. I can't help it if I'm charming, he would say.
"Oh, Amy!" two voices cried out among the cheers; obviously the girl's parents. The mother rushed forward and hugged the girl. Raven sucked in a breath, and waited for the threat of lawsuit. Robin was going to get in trouble and Raven was going to get her ass kicked in court and, damn it, the press was already singing in joy. If Robin hadn't been there…She banished the thought away; she was beginning to feel queasy.
"What have I told you about running off?" the mother asked harshly, pulling away. Raven could feel the girl tremble.
"I wanted to see what they were looking at, Mama…"
"I don't care if they were staring at a moldy piece of bread; you are not to leave from my sight!" the mother replied, her voice rising in pitch. Raven took a step back, partly because of the mother's terror, and partly because of her own. She felt a light pressure against her shoulder—she started, almost jumping in fright—turning to see Robin looking at her. He wasn't smiling, but he was calm and reassuring: relax.
"Yes, Mama," said Amy, head drooping in shame.
"Oh, Emma, let her be. That was quite frightening, after all," said the father, who had recovered from shock. He knelt down to face Amy at eye-level. "How about some ice-cream, munchkin? Yeah?"
Amy's head shot up comically. "Yeah!" she enthused—elated, relieved, overjoyed—jumping up and down. She brushed past Mama to take Daddy's hand and began to run down the street. Mama. Slowly the thrilling emotions faded and Raven's calm was restored—shaken, but there nevertheless.
Mama—Emma, rather—was thanking them: "…Raven, Robin. Without you, I don't know how…how I would have managed…to…to…"
"No need for thanks, ma'am," said Robin, who suddenly reminded Raven of that perfect superhero who would cliché-ly save the day on the cartoons that the Munchkin Maulers had watched. Raven who had become worried for a few weeks after her mission had traveled back for a last and final check-up. They were sleeping together—all three of them—in the one small bed of one of the extra rooms in the monastery for guests, snoring soundly as the black-and-white television buzzed. "Don't be afraid, for I will always be here to protect you," the hero had said before vanishing…
And thus, Raven left. Not that she would think of that now; she had to apologize now.
"I should have been more careful--" Raven started to say.
"—but I should have been watching her."
Raven started to protest, but Emma raised a hand. "I'm afraid we can't continue this discussion, Ms. Raven. My husband lost a bet, and so he's buying all my purchases today. I won't lose the opportunity for free mint-chip ice-cream. We're all humans."
With sudden nimbleness, she snatched her heel from Robin's hand, put it on, and strode away.
"Well, now…" Robin said, using his free hand to scratch his head, sheepishly (the other was still around Raven's shoulder). "We'd better go home."
.:x:.
"I'm not riding on that thing."
"Yes, you are."
"I'll just teleport myself, then."
"Well, we're not going to go to the Tower just yet, so hop on the bike."
Raven paused. "Where are we going?"
"Dinner," was the reply. "You haven't eaten since noon. And don't say you're not hungry because either way there isn't anything to eat tomorrow, either, save for Star's…thing."
Reluctantly, she got on. Robin passed her a helmet. "So just in the highly improbable event we do crash into something and your body becomes horribly damaged, and even if your limbs fly off, your head, at least will be unscathed."
"Shut up," she retorted. He'd probably lecture her over dinner.
The engine of the motorcycle whirred to life, and with a lurch, began moving rapidly. The movement had startled her, and she clung to Robin's waist a bit tighter. The bastard, for his part, pushed on the throttle even more.
.:x:.
Dinner consisted of take-out Indian curry at the nearby fairground. They sat on a picnic table to eat, and Raven looked lazily around her as the opened her carton of food, letting the spicy aroma drift and settle.
"We traded the restaurant for this wooden tabletop?"
"There's a fair tomorrow. I wanted to watch them set up," Robin responded. Raven gave a low murmur before going back to her food, watching the scene every so often.
Robin did the same, and added, as an afterthought, "It doesn't remind me of the circus at all."
"What's it like, the circus?"
"It's loud and bright, especially at night. There's panic everywhere, even when you're not performing. It disappears when you're doing your act, but that tension comes back, and it stays that way until the end of the show. It's only after the crowd leaves that everyone's calm. It was a lot of fun, but maybe it was just me—I always was afraid something could go wrong…"
"And it did," Raven said, remembering.
Robin nodded, his voice laced with pain.
"That night…I freaked. Once it was my turn, like I said, the panic would go away…but for some reason, I was scared to go on…And then my parents said okay."
Raven looked at him, realizing something. "Robin—"
"I begged them not to…'I changed my mind,' I told them. I couldn't shake off that feeling. Dad just pat my head and said that either way, I still needed more practice—my partner and I weren't good enough. 'Said I needed to ace that before even thinking of joining their act, jokingly, of course. 'Maybe the week after,' and that was it…
"After I got over blaming myself, or at least, as close as I could get to that, I promised never to let an innocent take my place. Batman and I disagreed on a lot of things. He understood that…that some things could go wrong, that 'best' doesn't mean 'perfection', but I never could. I can't."
Raven stared at him, her usual frown on her face. She felt confused; she wasn't sure where this conversation was headed. Was he talking about her mistake with Light? She lost her train of thought when Robin gave a grim laugh, startling her.
"It's funny, y' know? After all this time, you still want to believe in the best of people…to believe in hope."
Raven looked down towards her knees, closing her carton and moving it away from her. Sure, it was foolish to believe in anything, because, what would that mean? That life—her life—mattered? That some ethereal being had a purpose for her?—which was true with or without such senseless notions—
"But you do, don't you?" Robin's voice was gentle, and unabashedly thankful, it seemed.
"I, what?"
"You believe, too, in hope. Maybe not in a higher power, or fate, or karma, but you do believe in people. That whatever happens, your life means something."
Raven looked at him with equal feeling, and said in her equally unfeeling way, "Of course I do. How could I not? You—and everyone around me—you're all I have left."
Robin nodded, taking her words as some sort of confirmation, suddenly taking her hands. "Good, because I don't regret knowing you and having you as a friend. And, even though I can't help you as much as I want to, or force you to understand, I'll keeping telling you that you are worthy, of me and everyone else who loves you for the rest of my life. You know that, too, right, that we love you?"
Raven smiled tiredly, a bit embarrassed. He said what any friend would say, but somehow it seemed rather intimate; the last part, had he stressed different syllables, would sound more like a wedding vow… "I don't need assurance of that," Raven said, blushing. She really didn't, not from him.
The wrinkles from underneath his mask, from his eyebrows creased in effort, disappeared as he smiled boyishly. "I'm sorry if it seems like a lecture. I'm not too clear with words when I'm frustrated."
She smirked, once again resuming her normal, sarcastic tyranny over her life. "It's fine, Boy Blunder. I've got a vocabulary big enough for you and me."
"That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"
"No, it's very close to the truth."
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Is t—" Raven's retort was cut off as the Clock Tower began to chime eight.
"We'd better go home," Robin said, taking her hand in his, and almost dragging her to his bike, "For all the others know, we're still fighting Dr. Light."
Raven straddled the bike wordlessly.
"What, no witty comment on motor vehicle safety?"
"You just gave me assurance that you weren't going to maul me to death. I'll consider that a decent promise."
"Naturally. Move back a bit." He took his helmet from her hands, and she placed her own over her head. He smirked.
Raven's muffled, "What?" came from behind the helmet. Robin ignored it briefly to turn on the engine. The motorcycle roared to life.
"By the way, I'm not apologizing for that peck on your lips, and since the clock chimes cut you off, it means I won."
Another muffled, indignant reply came, but it turned into a yelp of surprise as Robin seized the chance to enjoy the lax enforcement of city speed limits. Raven tightened her hold around his stomach, and Robin once again sped up.
He enjoyed being a little wicked sometimes.
.:x:.
fin
.:x:.