Chapter 9: preparation
For a night that had been littered with the force of many on and off thunderstorms, the sky that morning was of a much lighter note. Its blue confines were hidden within the blankets of gray clouds, defining for an overcast morning. The evening's rains had diminished greatly in force, coming down in slight and occasional drizzles. It was not the cheeriest sight in the world, but it made promises of a brighter day to come.
Arella gazed upward withholding a drawn breath. There had been no markers available in the night to indicate a path to travel. Even if the woman had wanted to move, she had opted to seek shelter from the night's weather. Shelter Arella never effectively found.
Hopefully her eyes continued to stare upwards into the sky. It was if looking up to a slate of gray would block out the rest of the world around her, that none of this terrible matter had ever happened. Then she would lower her head to find that she was not in her abode. That she was not surrounded by the monks of Azarath. No. She was no where recognizable.
Her lungs ached, but Arella held onto that breath a moment more, holding onto the hopes of Azarath.
She exhaled and her head lowered.
This was not Azarath. This was Earth. There was no reason for her survival. While the other monks had remained faithful by going to the temples and praying to Azar in their last moments, she had stood out in the balconies in a humble sign of defiance. Arella wasn't a fool, she knew it was Azarath's end, should have been her end as well. She had pointedly stayed out in the open during Trigon's rape of her beloved home. The purpose was to prove she was unafraid of his arrival. That there was nothing worse that Trigon could've possibly done to her that hadn't been all ready. Death would've been a welcome retreat from the sins she had commit.
Unmistakably though, she was alive, and had awoken somewhere on Earth. That had been days ago. The sights and sounds of cars and cityscapes had startled her surprisingly well, they were familiar yet not. Arella felt a foreigner on the world of her birth. What could she expect? Angela Roth had left earth roughly two decades ago, and came back as Arella, last of Azarath.
The world was so…so loud that Arella had been hesitant to come anywhere near a city. It had been so similar to her own journey through towns when she had runaway from her parents so long ago. It was in these cities that people, ordinary people, were servants of Trigon. These people are what led her to believe in the safety of the church that worshiped Him. She would not be as foolish as to blindly walking back into the lion's den.
Her arrival on earth was a danger to herself. The Blood Clan had congregated; Arella didn't even need to sense out to realize this. They had congregated like this once before, during Raven's conception. With Trigon growing in strength, so to would they. It would be easy for Clan members to sense here, and Arella wanted to stay as far away from that as possible. It was one thing to have been forced to conceive the devil's child, she would not be captured and idolized for it.
It was with these thoughts that she had continued her track those days, completely at a loss of herself. The last thing she could remember seeing during Azarath's last moments was the face of her daughter. Raven had been the only constant to have existed in her life. There was consistence within her meditation, her lack of emotion, and even in following in the steps of the prophecy.
All that Arella had been left with in Azarath's last moments was to know her daughter still wished to fight her destiny, and the words the Azarian prophets had spoken to her. They had at one point told her that a journey back to Earth was unavoidable. Arella had disagreed with this. She had never any intention of returning to this world and all of its negativity, not when there was a home and family in Azarath.
It seemed though that the Azarian monks were not wrong. Here she was alive and unscathed. In her time on Azarath, Arella had been given the gift of some power. A peace of mind led to that, and the charka she began to wear directed it. With the powers that be she had and knew of, there was no detection of Azar or any greater force aside Him in Azarath's death.
Trigon had spared her, a fact Arella had mused upon during her time here. It was a horrible feeling. Survivor's guilt. Friends she had come to know and love, clergy men she would always come to appreciate as siblings, all gone. They had spent years nurturing and nourishing her into an able woman, capable of standing to the world; all of them destroyed by what had hurt her so. It was an undeniably, tormenting feeling.
It would seem she was wrong when she believed Trigon could not harm her further.
Now she had been forced back onto the same world that had shunned her, where in its own destruction was nearing. Death awaited her soon, and Arella would wait for it in anticipation. Her daughter was on this world somewhere, and she would begin the chain reaction. Raven was the only familiarity from what was once known to her, and Arella had traveled, seeking out that familiarity.
It had been half a week, and those days she had traveled alone, only accepting help from drivers whom she cautiously inspected. Arella had journeyed by feel, tracking her daughter by the unique energies she cast. This wasn't hard, nor was it an exact science. Despite, all of it led her here, to these woods in the early morning and during one of the storms. By then she'd realized her daughter was gone from the area, the traces of her presence hours old.
The storm had forced her to remain camped under the shelter of a fallen tree. No, that wasn't entirely true. Yes, it had forced her to seek shelter, but Arella had refused to head towards the abode in the distance. The house seemed to waft in a stewing mixture of demonic energies, her daughter, and death. Raven was no longer here, and Arella didn't need to think twice to realize what had conspired in that house. It was better to stay away from the horrible actions her daughter had done, at least for her own comfort.
Now she was standing in the early morning, wet and with hunger, and no closer to her daughter than she had been. It was discouraging, but Arella would persist. It was like a pilgrimage to Israel that always seemed to happen when someone thought it was the end of the world. She had nothing left and would follow her daughter till death.
Again, she looked upward. Raven had been within the woods twice, once to enter and then to leave. This explained some of the residue she had detected, but there was something else within these trees. Something above her, that felt of her daughter, but of powerful magic as well. It was concentrated to a point, Arella noted.
Finally her slender eyes discovered an oddity within the environment. It was a purple book bag, one that hung by its straps from a large branch over head. Arella could not levitate like her daughter, but she could lift substantially small and light weight items. With pale hands a soft glow was summoned around the bag, to which was then pulled and lowered from the branch. Now with it in her hands, Arella noticed that it was indeed Raven's, and that the magic she felt came from not one object but many.
Using great care, Arella began to fumble for the zipper. What was inside? What items did her daughter feel to travel with? Were they for survival? First Aid? No, her daughter was always a fast healer. Food? Arella hoped. Or were they personal items? Magical charms to promote defense or concealment?
The first pocket contained clothing. Arella curiously lifted out a blue over sized hoodie and jeans. There were no shoes. Mentally she noted her daughter's clothing would help her fit in and hide in the world she was no longer familiar with.
The second pocket also surprised her. The Blood Clan Bible. The Book of Azar. A cloth that resembled the cloak she had seen her daughter in last. Fingering it and what it with held left her just as more stunned. The meditation mirror, cracked, by the feel of it. There was no wonder why Arella felt so much power emanating from the bag. These were strong items with magical essence engraved in them.
It was at that time her stomach churned, muscles contracted whiningly that she had not digested anything in her time on earth. Arella thought nothing as she searched the bag more thoroughly, this time for any form of food. Life on Azarath had taught her how to fast, but even on Azarath it was known one could not live on just water alone.
Fingers brushed against something plastic, and Arella held the bag closer to her hooded face in inspection. It was a chip, one that she plucked gently from the fabric it latched to and examined it with squinting eyes. Who would have imagined technology had allowed for such small pieces to exist?
Unexpectedly a twig broke.
Arella jerked her head upwards, hands clutching the bag tightly. Her body went still, breathing halted as she allowed for mental perception to seek out about her. Alarm rose in her mind slowly, but unnoticeably on her ever calm poise. This was unlike the other situations in which there were just animals. There were people. Four. In a group. Traveling in her direction. They were moving fast.
"Dude, I can't believe Raven even left the tracking chip on." A young voice. Scratchy, doing crazy things. One that hadn't quite made it through puberty.
"It was on a different frequency than normal. She changed it." Older, but still young. It sounded intelligent. Arella could feel that half of him was alive. That frightened her.
"But why? I do not understand why Raven would come here without us. And if Raven wanted to come here without us, why did she leave us a tracking chip?" Female.
"She wanted us to find her. Or left something for us." Younger, male, authoritive. "Come on, this way."
Arella exhaled slowly. They had sounded as if they knew her child closely. She quickly realized the chip they mentioned was the one in her hand. This panicked her to an extent. She was weary of contact of others, especially those who knew her daughter so casually. Raven never had those who knew her as such, not as closely as she was to her. It was quite possible that these individuals were not as friendly as they sounded to be, and that they were in legion with Trigon.
There was no question about it. Without thought she crushed the chip with pinched fingers. Then, she waited.
The titans stopped in there searching abruptly.
"Damn it. Signal cut out." The half dead man. There was an exasperated sigh. "Must've just tuned into a random radio frequency. False Alarm."
Arella continued to wait, her ears strained with the intention to eavesdrop further. There was silence amongst the group, until finally the boy with the ordering voice announced, "Raven probably left here days ago. Let's check the house, see if she actually talked with Adeline Kane."
Their voices quieted and their footsteps carried them away from her area. Arella released a sigh of relief, thankful that she did not have to deal with others who would not understand her and her plight or may try to hurt her. Once they were a considerable distance, Arella began to rummage through the bag once more. This time, she discovered a wad of bills.
More relief flooded through her as thoughts of a hot meal reached her mind. It was enough for two meals, thankfully. At least, it would be if the prices of menu items hadn't changed since she'd been here. Of course, considering, Arella could have always went towards the house for food…but the physic aroma of death kept her at a distance. If she needed to go to the house, it would be for as short a time as she were able.
Besides, the teenagers she'd heard were heading in that direction anyway. Too many people at once, and if they were looking for her daughter, they could easily mistake her as someone she wasn't. It wasn't being attacked with the misconception she was Raven that bothered her; it was perhaps being killed before she had reached her daughter. She wanted to see the end of this world, to see through till the end what her naïve actions had created. It was the only atonement Arella could understand.
She'd spent long enough here, investigating her daughter's presence. Raven's signature energies were somehow tied to the four that were around the area. Friend or foe was yet to be discovered, but it was inevitable for them to backtrack her daughter's trail. Raven was here, yes, and had left hours ago, but her trail was hard to follow now. This was probably due to traveling in a vehicle of some kind. It hindered the process to feel those energies. If she at least kept tabs on the individuals, Arella could be able to pick up the trail somewhere else.
It was with these thoughts that she journeyed further into the denser woods where she could change into her daughter's clothing and to possible find a meal. With the house reeking of death, the individuals would take an extended time in their exploring. Arella could manage to do what she needed and be back before they left. Surely a car was left in the home along with keys, all Arella had to do was make sure to follow the vehicle.
Yes, Arella would find Raven eventually. Trigon did not have her survive just for the guilt in simply being, but to surely rub in her face what he had achieved with her child. Arella merely wanted to find her daughter in the comfort of her own devices instead of allowing Trigon and his followers taking care of her until the time the portal opened.
Finally, the sun glistened and broke through the clouds. At least Arella could always place hope in that.
Strands of light shimmered as they breached through the light layer of gray. Like some heavenly being swaying golden hair over its shoulder, the simple action alone sent the clouds apart. These clouds began to disperse, having used up all of its contents and shriveled up into nothingness, allowing for the sun to cast all in its warmth. Not all openly basked in its confines, however.
Gray lids clenched tightly with an unwillingness to ease out of slumber. The light alone was enough of an annoyance to create a whining groan from the covers. Slothfully she turned on her side; more specifically she turned her body and allowed gravity to pull her back down to the mattress. Hands shuffled and pulled the blankets up tighter around her shoulders, a pillow making its way over her head.
A satisfied breath escaped her and Raven snuggled deeply back into the mattress, finding the warmth of the bed more able than the light of the sun.
Bed…?
Raven's eyes plucked open instantly. Yes. Her body was certainly resting peacefully atop a mattress, one to which Raven never remembered falling asleep on. Without another moment, the pillow was pulled from her face and her head lifted to take in her surroundings. The room she was in was vast, but despite its enormity didn't feel nearly as empty and cold as it should have. This could have been in part to the light and airy curtains allowing such an abundance of natural light in, the warmth in her bed, and the over all familiarity of the setting.
Yes, the room definitely seemed familiar, despite Raven never stepping foot in it before. This left room for only one explanation. Slade had been in this room at some point, therefore Slade had brought her here, wherever here was.
Raven scrunched up her nose in distaste and confusion. Why in the world would Slade drag her to a house somewhere? Hadn't it all ready been concluded Slade resided no where on Earth since his servitude began? What would compel him to bring her here when he could've easily stashed her in some sub domain of hell until her time came.
Then the thought occurred to her. Just when did Slade bring her here? When did she knock out? How had she knocked out?
Raven began to sit up, her mind divided between hunting Slade down to kill him or to leave as quickly as she could. Both options completely left the forefront of her thoughts as the blanket draped over her fell in a bundle around her legs. No longer in leotard, Raven was clothed in a bathrobe. Hesitantly she parted the front seem just enough to see skin beneath. She was naked in a robe.
Eyes narrowed furiously into beads. Angrily she kicked off the covers to find an unpleasant and unexpected soreness between her legs. Warning bells went off in her head, and the empathic titan froze.
Slade had slept with her.
When? How?
Raven opted to keep moving while she thought. Just sitting there and allowing for it to swirl around her mind too heavily would put her in too much emotional stress. Having no meditation and rubbing magical rings could only go so far. Amethyst eyes landed on a chair opposite the bed in which a stack of folded garments lay.
It was simply impossible that Slade had slept with her. Unfathomable. Slade himself stated it. With the servitude mark cast on his neck, he had to follow any and all of her orders that didn't intervene with the orders of her father. Slade assumed raping her would break her will against her father's powers, so when she ordered him not to commit such lustrous actions, he followed them. Then why was she so sore there?
She stormed without question up to them and lifted one article to her face. The shirt was of a deep color and of a nice knit. It was far from a t-shirt, or a sweat shirt for that matter. But it was nice. Not exactly formal, but sophisticated and appealing. This only confused Raven even more as it would have been something she usually would have preferred wearing out of uniform. What was more questionable was that all the clothing there was her size.
Just what exactly happened the night before?
Raven shook her head viciously. This was no time to fret over these unexplained details. She was in the lion's den, and she had to do something about it. Glancing towards the door, Raven summoned her powers to lock it tight. Then, a thicker second layer of curtains were loosened to cover the tall windows. Somehow it didn't seem to comfort her any, this was Slade's house. She didn't have to know the guy's mind to assume he had cameras up everywhere. Pervert.
Raven changed quickly, ever so glad to shed the loose and revealing robe she formerly donned. This set of clothing served to cover her well enough, bringing her tremendous comfort. The dark titan still wished for her cloak and hood instead. That was all right though, she told herself. All she had to do was give Slade a few minor questions before she went on her merry way.
Stepping out into the hall brought forth more of the familiar memories of the furnished abode she currently was in. It took only a moment to figure out where exactly she was. Confident in that, Raven looked about her as if trying to spot life. Slade would not even fathom to just leave her alone in this great big house. Slade sure as hell was smarter than that. Knowing he was there just by gut, Raven sought out briskly for his presence. It wasn't too far off, and basing off of his memories, he was in his room…and feeling very distressed.
Good. Raven wasted no time in taking the most direct route to the marked antagonist's chambers. As she traveled the halls like she owned the place, those feelings of discomfort only seemed to escalate and become more defined. There was fear. Confusion. Pain. Anguish. All the emotions Raven thought she'd never feel emitted from the man she'd come to loathe.
It was only as she came to the door that she heard the distinct voice of someone she knew.
"…alm down, Slade." It was old, perhaps older than Slade's, and British by a default. This was Wintergreen, Raven noted silently to herself, friend, ally in both war and life, faithful servant and butler.
"Uhn….make it stop…! The chanting! Th-the darkness! He's there…!" This time, it was Slade's voice that passed through the thick doors. Just as his emotions spiked to pure terror stricken panic, his voice quaked with tremendous effects. These were true emotions, not some show that Slade may have put on. He was honestly afraid of something.
"You are not yourself, Slade, you have a fever, and you're hallucinating." Wintergreen seemed insistent, but still a tremendous deal of worry in his voice.
"He's in my head! He's in my head!" Thrashing, struggling ensued.
"No one is in your head.," it was assured, patient, but struggling possibly in a fight with a sick patient.
"AHGN!" Slade's voice bellowed. "Get…OUT! Get out! Get out! Get out!" A gasping intake followed by a cringing repeat of her signature incantation.
That was it, Raven had heard enough. The doors swung open as she charged authoritively in, her gaze seeing a bed ridden Slade, curled tightly into a painful ball, while an older gentleman was beside him trying to coax him to relax as best he could. The gentleman, Wintergreen, turned his attention upward and to her approaching form in complete confusion.
"He is unwell, Miss, perhaps you should go back to your room," he suggested professionally.
Raven ignored it entirely. "He's not sick."
"But Miss, his temperature has—"
"I can calm him, but you need to leave.," it was instructed with a tone that meant the discussion was over.
Wintergreen stared at her in awe and bewilderment a moment more, before silently leaving and closing the doors behind him.
"I can't…!" Slade chocked in a constricting way, body shaking furiously, hands clutching tightly into his white, curled head of hair. "So much darkness! So black!"
Raven's eyes narrowed into venomous beads, simply standing there and watching him writhe. She knew what this was. What had happened. It was all too similar, similar to herself. Slade had done it. The son of a bitch had managed to do it to her. She didn't know how, she wasn't quite sure when, but Slade had managed to have mental and physical intercourse with her.
Slade was no telepath by any means. The only telepathic powers he had were bestowed to him from her father. He was inexperienced with them, and certainly wasn't given the ability to sort and survive the over flooding of extra memories. He was trapped somewhere in her own fears of Trigon.
"That's what you get.," Raven spat at him, "You've earned no pity from me."
Still, with Slade in this state, it would be impossible to use him as she needed. Besides, it was likely her father would eventually come to his aid and do the sorting for him. But that could take ages; she may as well just do it now.
The dark magus walked over to the bed and climbed up on top of it. She made her way towards Slade's balled form and firmly pulled back his hands to place her own onto his head. To her own surprise, she found it rather easy to enter his mind again, much easier than it should have been. Raven quickly assigned an answer. Slade hadn't just entered her mind the night before, she had touched his too. There was a mental connection between them, and it would allow for easy access between both of them.
Raven tucked this knowledge to the back of her mind as she began her work, instantly bombarded with a memory of her own. This one in particular was one of her nastier memories, one that would have been especially painful to be stuck in. Slade's body went rigid and tense as she held onto this current state he was in. He relaxed drastically as Raven masterly 'turned it off' and shuffled it away to the side. She went in for another, this time it was one of Slade's personal memoirs. Raven placed this in a new pile.
Thus this is how things went. Raven brushing past whatever came to the front of his conscious next and deciding where it should be placed. This continued for much time, as it was no easy task that required great focus and patience. Without meditation such a task would have been daunting, but Raven was motivated. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. She could see what she was thinking during the time frame that eluded her conscious, and discover what Slade had done as well.
The answers did not come easily. Painfully so, they were not quite as Raven had expected. She had been crazy. Not her usual emotionless split personality mind crazy. Pure insanity crazy. Raven had summoned Slade purposely to her with the intentions of destroying him, but ultimately trying to deal a suffering blow by first killing the woman he once cared for. She'd wanted Slade to suffer for what he'd done to not just her, but everyone. That wasn't the only reason she had killed Adeline, however.
Raven was jealous.
It was enough to give her pause in her filing process. Her jealousy far outweighed making Slade suffer. Raven had purposely gone out of her way to kill that woman. Swallowing, Raven chose ultimately to ignore, dismiss, and forget this fact. Knowing this would eat her up, and she could not allow it. Her own emotions were still just as much a threat to herself as Slade was.
It wasn't all the craziness that the night contained. Slade had hunted her down, tackled her, and used her, both to which Raven had invited, provoked, and allowed. Slade hadn't raped her. She'd consented; it was the only way he could have done it. He hadn't raped her mind either, that too he was given permission of. These things, both were claimed to break her fighting spirit, but they failed because Raven let them happen, wanted them to happen.
Her momentary break of sanity was frightening, but without it she might not have survived either event. Insanity saved the world for a little while longer.
Despite all of it, all the crazy decisions, all the fighting and sensual events spent with Slade; there was one thing alone that made sense, which was so logically insane that it was perfectly sane in and of itself. Raven didn't kill Slade for a reason. She could use him. He was a servant to her, and when she would become the portal; there would be no more hope. All that she wanted was for her friends to be safe and to survive. There was no way to do that when she would fulfill the prophecy, she would not be around to protect them…but Slade would. Slade would endure, Slade would survive, and furthermore, Slade would protect her friends.
The last memory was put into place, and Raven eased herself gently from his tormented psyche, flopping backwards onto the mattress in a fatigued collapse. Her head painfully pulsed at the effort put out for such information, but it was well worth it. Slade's body also relaxed, his face beaded with sweat, but clearly more relieved than it had been. Raven pushed herself back sitting up and calmly lifted and placed the messenger's head into her lap. His breathing was still slightly labored, but that slowed to an easy rhythm until it quickened again. Slade was awake.
Slowly, and almost painfully, the mad man's left eye flinched and winced open. A groan came from him as his skull throbbed inexplicable with tenderness. Raven's head tilted, looking down at him. Their eyes met in a silent pause.
Raven surprised the hell out of him next by wheeling back an arm and brutally striking his cheek.
Slade growled in an aching groan, before turning his face upwards and uttering angrily, "Good morning, Sunshine."
Raven's lips quirked into a slightly crazed grin. She mimicked his tone. "Morning, Buttercup."
Slade stared up a moment more before closing his eye and covering it with his hand. Lord did his head ache. It was as if he was experiencing the worst migraine ever possible, only magnified by ten. Just what had hit him, a speeding train?
"I'm flattered, Raven. I wasn't expecting to wake up with you in my bed." There was no attempt at moving from his position. Clearly he was not capable of standing that moment.
"Easy there, Slade. I'm tempted to undue all the repairs I made.," it was a warning that Raven was sure to follow up on without much more prodding. Slade was wise to take note of this.
"What are you rambling about?" he grunted instead of fighting her.
At this, Raven smirked. It would seem Slade had been just as confused at first as she was when she came to. It sure would be amusing if he couldn't conjure up exactly what he did. All that work to have sex with her, and he wouldn't be able to enjoy it.
"You drank from forbidden ambrosia. Did you think you'd maintain your sanity on your own afterwards?"
It took a moment for the pained Slade to realize just what she had meant, "Let's just say, it was worth the pain of intoxication." He winced, tenderly beginning to rub his temples.
That amused Raven to no end. Entering her mind had left him sore and in discomfort. It was exactly the same as the feeling he had left after using her body. Apparently both parties had lost some form of virginity that night.
"I'll say," she commented dead panned. "When Trigon gave you the power to enter my mind, he didn't give you the know-how or strength to deal with the overflow. You would've been suffering for days, weeks, maybe longer if I hadn't intervened."
Slade's fingers stopped rubbing the sides of his head, and he looked up with a smooth expression. "Then why had you?"
"…" Raven opened her mouth, but no response came out. After a moment of contemplation, she answered monotonously. "I wanted to know where my clothes were."
Slade stared at her, before chuckling freely. Smugly, he threw out, "You and I both know that wasn't all."
Raven scowled down at him and smacked the side of his head again. His response was exactly as the first, followed by mild cursing and groaning. Disgustedly she shoved his head from her lap and crawled off the bed, heading towards the door determinedly.
Before she left, her body turned and she accusingly pointed at him. "I mean it Slade. I want my clothes back." Then she was gone from his room.
Slade passively watched her go, not feeling at all up to pursuing the matter at hand. Instead he groaned and rolled to his stomach, reached for a pillow and buried his head into its confines. He may have been the walking dead and a servant to the all powerful Trigon the Terrible, but he was no match for a killer migraine.
He released a heavy sigh of relief, whatever Raven had done to him made a difference in the way he had felt from nearly an hour ago. He would have to do something about her clothes, then.
Unexpectedly the pain in his brain spiked, and Slade cried in anguish.
You failed me, Slade. I expected my daughter to be worshipping me now. It was Trigon. And it would've seemed his failure had been reason for Trigon to allow him to suffer through Raven's horrendous memories.
"Arghn…," Slade gritted out, then adding, "There was an… unexpected factor we hadn't foreseen, Master."
You mean that you had not seen. Be thankful I still have use for you. A pause. If my daughter believes that forcing you to love her will ensure the safety of her friends, then I believe that love can bring about the portal.
What was the demon ranting about now? Slade didn't want to know entirely, not now. His mind couldn't take much at that moment, let alone to contemplate just what entirely he wanted.
Hate has consumed her; even she has come to notice this. But it isn't controlling her soon enough. It is time to threaten something of hers, and you've become a toy to her.
"I feel so very loved," Slade retorted with sarcasm.
She wants you to love her? Well make her love you. It won't be hate that will end the world of mortals, it shall be love.
"Just remember our bargain." This, Slade uttered with a very dark and serious tone.
Of course, honor your end, and I will produce what you have lost.
Just outside the door, Raven felt a shiver run down her spine, unknowing of the cause. For a moment she stood waiting, questioning just what she had felt, and then dismissing it entirely. She would find Wintergreen and worry about Slade later.
Raven had been in Jump City. It wasn't entirely unexpected when she really thought hard about it. The memories were present, Slade had resided in Jump City for some time now, yet that fact had never seemed to cross her mind in all of her time with Slade's mind merged with hers. Aside this, it only served to make sense that Slade lived somewhere within the city. He had to be integrated into its activities to know everything he had about the city, to have all the bases he did about the city.
What really got Raven was that one of the rooms in his abode, the study, held a window wide and large enough to take in the landscape with a direct view of Titan's Tower. It was beyond amusing. How many hours had Slade spent in this room, gazing at the tower and simply contemplating all of his schemes? Sadly, she knew in actuality how many hours that was, hours spent toying over the prospects of Robin and Terra.
The fact she was back in Jump left her to question two things. How had they managed to get back into the city before she woke up, and where had the Titans been? Her soul self's reach had slowly but surely began to expand its reaches since her birthday. It was no doubt a catalyst of the birthmarks, and although her growing power frightened her, she had come to use it without much complaint. What her soul self was telling her now was that the energies of her friends had left the city. Of course the city always felt like her friends, who had been imprinted to the area, but there was nothing fresh from them. It was indicative that they had all left the area earlier.
They had no reason to out right leave the city unguarded, unless for one thing. They had obviously found out where she had gone and had tried to track her. Raven turned her face from the study's large window and to its wall covered book shelves. She didn't want to think about what they would find there, how they would react, and what they would conclude of it. It was easy to strike an argument that she wasn't herself when she killed Adeline…but somehow that didn't seem to ease that guilt any.
Still, nothing accounted for how exactly she and Slade had made it here. If she was correct in her thoughts that Slade had spent his time in servitude not on Earth, than he would not have had ready access to the house…Which meant all of this was Wintergreen's doing. Perhaps Slade had managed to contact him after their incident in the woods and had brought both of them back here. It would certainly account for why Slade hadn't dragged her back to what ever hellish domain he currently resided in. Raven wouldn't argue; she preferred a well furnished estate to the fires of hell any day.
Her hair and body were also devoid of mud, sweat, and any blood stains she'd retained from her fights as well. This too only seemed logical to pin upon Wintergreen, especially if Slade was in the state she found him in. It could've also accounted for the bathrobe as well.
Easily enough, the clothing wasn't that far off to explain, either. Slade had seen her mind. He knew her likes and dislikes, as well as her sizes. Even if he hadn't, surely Wintergreen was capable of taking measurements.
Wintergreen was another curiosity all together. If what she believed about how they arrived here was true, than Wintergreen must have been quite surprised by his sudden call of help to Slade. The man certainly was in the dark of all of this, something that she knew from experience through Slade's mind, and that it concerned him to no end. Raven sympathized. Finding a former boss, who was likely dead, now alive and having slept with a girl not even half his age out somewhere in some god forsaken spot was not anyone's cup of tea. That was more than enough confusion.
Then there was Slade. The very fact his master had abandoned him to let him suffer through her mind was a rather interesting musing. Earlier when she had raped his mind, Trigon had aided in his recovery and left Slade in a state to hound her down while she was recovering as well. So why had he helped him the first time, and not a second? Indeed, why hadn't he?
It was possible, and most likely probable, that Trigon was angry with him somehow. Leaving to suffer was certainly a trademark of her father's, death being rewarded to only beloved servants who ended up failing somehow. Then Slade was definitely not one of Trigon's favorites…which meant He was likely searching out for new soldiers to serve him. Either Trigon was tired of Slade, or he was preparing for something big, preparing for his arrival.
That meant time was even shorter than she'd hoped, and Raven was running out of ideas. It would seem her current reason for keeping Slade alive would be her final option.
Her gaze turned back to the cityscape. Night had settled, and the night life was busy. Instead of looking to the glowing mass of buildings from the tower, she was now looking from it. Everything was aglow with brilliance and noise. Yet they were all easily tuned out. All Raven needed to do was stare long enough, hold in her breath in just the right way, and the artificial lights would meld into fires. The buildings would be aged, bending, dead. As too was the livelihood within the city. Bodies remained frozen, petrified in an encasement of stone, statues representing what once was, what had been conquered.
Four eyes stared back at her.
Raven blinked, and the vision was gone in a flash. Her newest plan had to work, she needed Slade now.
"Admiring the view?" Speak of the devil.
Raven turned her head and nodded to him, acknowledgement that he was in the room with her now. "Trying to remember it before it gets destroyed."
"I see.," was all he said.
A silence wafted between them then, a comfortable silence. One of just simply being, of mutual acceptance. They were here in the now, in what seemed an unmentioned truce as nether held any form of hostility at that moment. Finally it was Slade who broke the silence. "Your clothing is being cleaned and repaired."
"Oh," she required, curiosity and amusement in her eyes as she turned to question him.
"Until then I've taken the liberty to obtain a few pieces that should satisfy you until you decide to leave." He was no longer in the armored uniform everyone had come to know him of. There was no mask hiding his features, there was no attempt at hiding at all. It was as their silence, he just simply was.
And so was Raven. "Decide to leave…" it was mused allowed.
"You didn't expect me to keep you here," Slade stated critically, "We both know you are the one who is control of me." That had been uttered with stinging venom, oozing from his words.
Raven ignored this as she continued, "Its co-ownership Slade. Trigon and I both signed the lease. Face it; I'm here because He wants me here just as much as you do." Her voice almost grew bitter towards the end. Almost.
"I don't want you here." His emotions were indecisive between wanting and pushing. It was enough to raise eyebrows from the empath. It still left room to toy a bit.
"Then if you don't, He doesn't either," Raven stated, "Which means I will stay here, just to get on both of your nerves."
His eye narrowed accusingly, "You insolent—"
All Raven did was glare at him and the charter on his neck flared. Slade quieted instantly, but made sure his face conveyed the message clear enough.
"Now, we're both civilized people.," Raven offered, "I'm sure that we're capable of cooperation, and I expect as much if I'm to stay here a while."
She had to stay, regardless. Being near Slade was the only chance to ensure that she enlists his services in managing her friend's safety. Besides, there was nothing worse Slade could have done to make her fulfill the prophecy sooner. All his cards had been played, it was her turn.
Slade remained harshly silent a moment more, before his face became at ease. He stated in a civil voice as he took a step towards her, "I believe I can agree to that."
But Slade did not stop there. Casually with that ever cocky expression on his unmasked face, he made his way to Raven's side.
"Slade…," she growled to him warningly.
His ungloved hands lifted slowly, brushing the back of her spine upwards to her neck. Instantly she turned to face him, determined to give him a piece of her mind, but Slade had other plans. Her mouth opened to protest his touching, but it was a mistake for Slade dived right in for the attack. Their mouths latched together, his hands grasping instantly to her shoulders, forcing her arms to remain at her side.
He pushed her body backwards, commanding, but not as forceful as would be imagined. There was only a nudge before Raven stumbled backwards, her body connecting to the wall's bookshelf. Her shoulders tensed as she was pinned, his thumbs rubbing tenderly into her arms, sensually.
Raven fought viciously back for the control of her mouth, and when she broke the kiss, found she was breathlessly panting. Glaringly, she stated, "That was hardly civil, Slade."
Slade smirked, his teeth hidden by lips and a white goatee. One arm moved to rest above her head against a row of books, while his head leaned in near hers. "I believe that civility and foreplay don't mix well."
"Slade…" Raven growled again while pressing her back further into the case to create further space between them.
Instead of planting his lips onto hers again, he managed a cheap shot bellow her ear and into the crook of her neck, instantly lavishing her with bites. His exhaled breathes tickled the inside of her ear.
Raven's response was instantiations. She jumped, flustering out "Sl-Slade! I'm not in the mood to put up with you!"
He paused in his administrations to lift his mouth to her ear to breathe into it. Quietly he promised in a signature Slade like tone. "You will be."
"I wasn't finished speaking with you.," Raven whispered just as quietly into his ear, a more vile hiss from her than him.
"Oh please.," it was uttered indignantly, "I don't want to hear it, and you don't want to talk about it. Let's let the pillow talk stay that way."
"Now…" He nibbled on the lobe of her ear, "Why don't you just be quiet and enjoy it."
Without further admittance his tongue lashed out and into the insides of her ear. Raven's body went rigid as a gasp was torn from her. Quickly her muscles loosened and her body turned to putty, allowing her the option to squirm. And squirm she did. Slade was prepared; however, his hand gripped her shoulder tighter, holding her to the spot.
"Ahugn, S-Slade…," her voice was a mix of a squeak and anger. "Stop…!"
"Are you in the mood, now?" His breath tingled her ear again as his cheek nuzzled hers.
"ENOUGH," Raven roared, her eyes flashing white and the insignia on Slade's neck answered the call. He bellowed painfully faltering back from her, and then dropped to his knees in exhaustion. Both exhibited panting, Raven in mild embarrassment, and Slade from relief. Bitterly, she snarled, "I told you to stop."
"To do what Raven," Slade panted, on knees and hands. He lifted his head to squint up at her. "To stop your emotions from catching up to you?"
"…" Raven could not answer. In part that was the truth. Her emotions were dangerous. Feeling things, exiting things like that were danger enough. However, the other reason was it felt kind of good. Too good. And that scared her.
"Look around you," Slade offered with the sweeping of his hand. "Is there anything out of place? Anything ripped asunder by black magic?"
Raven dared to let her eyes follow his gesture. Slowly, she took in the condition of the study. It was clean, orderly, organized. Not an ounce of dirt or dust. Nothing ripped apart, nothing knocked over, or broken. Not even a book out of place. This was a room unaffected by her dark powers.
Almost dazedly, she stepped away from the wall, eyes wide in childlike wonderment. Bewildered, she murmured, "How…?"
"Call it a 'wedding' gift from Daddy.," Slade pushed himself to his feet. He calmly strolled up behind her and placed his hands firmly atop her shoulders. "Even you have realized that time is short. You're body is accommodating for the energy you'll use to summon Him."
Was it true? Was she honestly free of the confines of her powers, least for a momentary time? Raven was hesitant to believe such a thing possible…yet the evidence was still present. Her emotions had spiked, but nothing suffered damage.
"I believe that was enough demonstrating this evening." It was said as if he had total control over the entire situation since the beginning. "I'll allow you to digest that until dinner."
His lips touched her cheeks once more, this time in a friendlier peck, and he exited the room.
Raven stared after his departing form. A demonstration, was it? Him and his damnable way of coolly taking control of the situations she'd sworn were under her command. Still…it had meant his advances were purely curricular, not provocative. The very thought struck a cord of frustration inside her.
"Jerk.," she spat after him, turning back to the large window.
Her amethyst eyes gazed outward towards the tower. Her home, where her family was probably returning to that moment. Raven felt a longing stir up in her chest, an aching that was heavy and guilty. She should have been there, with all her friends, friends that accepted her. At least she should have contacted them by now; to assure them she was all right, the cause Raven identified to create her guilt. However, the empath loved them too much to let them involved. This was for their safety…
Wasn't it?
AN: Hey peeps, sorry for the long time between updates. To be honest, I am a college student; I'm also a part timer, this accountes for a great portion of my time. Those who haven't paid attention to these end comments may not realize that I'm actually several chapters ahead with the fic. I tend to post chapters when I feel confident in the one I'd currently written, that way I can still have material to post if I ever have a great extended leave. And in all honesty, watching season five really killed a lot of my influence, another factor as to how slow I'm going.
Unfortunately, lately I've felt the chapters I've been writing are forced and not 100 percent. Work and school have to come before my personal projects (that and lately I've been more art active it seems). About 5 weeks left of school and 10 class periods total, which means exams. As I said, sorry, but that's got to come first.
All right…actual notes. I've reintroduced Arella. When I saw season four, I all ready had the misconception that Arella would've played a larger role, when she hadn't, I felt jipped. So, be certain to expect more of Arella, but don't look forward to any extreme introductions or teaming up with the Titans. She does, however, play a vital future role.
I'd also mentioned in text that Arella had run away from her parents. There's some…issues I have with that. It would seem that the recent Titans comics (2003? to recent) state Arella ran from an abusive father. If you reference the 80's comics, Arella states her mother abandoned her and that she was a ward of state. For clarity, I opted to use the first example for Arella history to avoid less confusion on the text. So please don't give me thirty million reviews trying to "correct" me.
Slade and Raven now share a bond similar, and actually stronger than the one Raven and Robin shared from episode Haunted. This bond offers an interesting play off both characters. Plus, there's the new addition involving the disadvantage to Raven's powers. Hopefully, in the future chapters, Raven will not seem out of character due to this story element. That's all my brain can conjure at the moment, hope this chapter was worth the wait.