Chapter 12: fabrication
The titan's acclaimed sorceress shot up in bed, stock stiff with fright. Her pale skin, now somewhat unnaturally paler, glistened with the evidence of a cold sweat, and her body trembling not from the cold air touching skin but because of the contents of her miserable vision laden sleep. For a painfully silent moment, Raven's amethyst eyes stared widely unseeing before her as she tried to suppress the lingering imagery of the nightmares. With one last shudder she snapped herself out of it.
They never stopped. After all this time, Raven still received that over powering revelation just as clear as she'd seen it on her birthday: the skies a burning red, the flesh of billions shriveling up and hardening into stone encasements, and her father gloating powerfully in triumph. She should have been used to them now. The scenes should not have bothered her so much. Yet, it still did, all of it. Though her nights were often attacked with images containing one aspect of her father or another, it was never so fervent or vivid until this entire ordeal had begun.
"Curse you, father," Raven mumbled icily, sweeping a still shaky hand through lavender locks. "Haven't you ever heard that a well rested mind could do your dirty work with more efficiency?"
Raven suspected he did, but that wasn't the point here. Trigon was doing this to achieve one thing: keeping her too worn down to put up much resistance.
Slothfully the empath crawled from the bed of her temporary quarters, grabbing a discarded robe to wrap around her loose night gown, both provided courtesy of Wintergreen, whom Slade claimed to have picked up a wardrobe for her until she felt necessary to leave. Raven hadn't intended upon wearing them, but after her shower skirmish she had discovered that they were laid out for her. What was supposed to be just some time to contemplate eventually led into her finally succumbing to sleep.
It would have happened eventually. She had used quite a deal of energy the other day, and a plentiful amount that night during her battle with the other. Add upon that what had occurred between Slade and her during her shower and it very well explained that sleep was inevitable. Raven still despised herself for dozing off, however. That time lost could have been spent upon other things, namely trying to achieve what she had been trying to accomplish since the other night.
Raven wasn't foolish, though. Despite not having much experience upon feeling certain emotions, she was well aware that love didn't just occur over night. It took time to build, possibly any time she had left before the portal opened. And Raven had to follow what she knew. Joseph had seen something in her between her and Slade she formerly couldn't detect. Love, perhaps in the guise of misplaced hatred. There seemed to have been a minor lust shared between them as well. She denied it still, but a part of her liked what Slade had done in the shower, and a part of her wanted it to happen when she killed Adeline Kane.
But lust wasn't love. It still helps, though. Or at least that's what Raven kept telling herself.
Fingers parted the tall drapes, giving her just enough space to peek out of her room. It was evening; the sun was inching closer to the horizon. There were still a few hours of light, she suspected, which meant she had slept the whole day. Silently she wondered if there were any calls in the city, how her friends were.
She missed them. She missed Beast Boy's antics, Cyborg's intelligent conversations, Starfire's optimistic mood, and even Robin with his insane aspirations. Raven had begun to see less and less of them, to avoid their presence to help seek out an answer for her problems. Likewise was the reason why she was presently in Slade's residence. It was for them, but deep down she was beginning to enjoy too much what she was doing. The lines between self sacrifice and self indulgence were becoming blurred, and Raven was uncertain how to fix it. Or if she even wanted to.
"I know you're there," Raven said it hollowly with a depressing sigh. Now was not the time she really wanted to see Slade. But wishing she wasn't there was a vain gesture. Raven put herself in this position, she would see through it.
The door opened and he stepped in. Raven parted the drapes further, catching his reflection upon the window pane. Much to her surprise he was within the uniform the titans had known him for. The armor was present upon his limbs; the belt held firmly about his waist, the only thing missing had been the black and orange mask that had become signature. While she held this image, Raven traced the features of his exposed face with her eyes. Aged, but well kept, time had been kind to him, yet she supposed the experiments done upon him had affected that. His blonde hair, now white with years, was naturally wavy, though it had tamed down since he was young. An eye patch hid from her the grotesque scar she knew him to carry, and briefly, she wondered if her powers could regenerate a missing organ.
With a light sweeping motion she dropped the curtain back down as he stopped behind her, as if to prevent him from knowing what she was looking at. Trying to appear as comfortable as possible, Raven forced her dry wit to return. She said with normalcy, "I thought you'd know by now that dry scalp and black don't mix."
For a moment Slade was puzzled. Then he caught what was meant and began to furiously brush the dandruff off his shoulders. Raven's lips tugged with some resistance to a mild grin.
Scowling, he defended, "Now you know why my mask covers my hair."
"Slade's big dark secret is out," Raven dead panned, with a stark hint of amusement. Then, thoughtfully, "Maybe that's why Batman wears the cowl…"
Slade openly chuckled. "I see you're feeling better than you were this morning." His arms moved to place hands on her arms. Raven tensed, and Slade gazed on with amusement. "Perhaps not."
There was a tone to his voice just then, indicating a hungry, preying beast that made her shudder.
"I-I didn't sleep well," Raven stumbled out. It wasn't a lie, and it went along with the plea she had made in the shower.
"Trigon?" Slade assumed.
"Yes…" she off-handedly agreed. Slade's arms pulled her gently back into his chest. The warmth of his body heat invaded through the robe's fabric, and her muscles relaxed just slightly. It still did little for her nerves. "Then there was me."
His thumbs rubbed the tops of her shoulders, a silent indicator to continue. "I saw what I'll become, and again what I'll bring. It's always unsettling."
"You're bringing something beautiful." What should have been a snake-like hiss of insistence was a calm and assuring voice.
"I suppose beauty is in the eyes of the beholder…or eye," Raven relented. To someone like Slade or her father such destruction and tragedy was beautiful.
"Beauty crafts beauty," Slade ushered respectively, tilting his head to look at her. Raven looked away before he could, the hinting of a blush touching the corners of her cheek. She appeared unsettled and said nothing.
"I believe you are supposed to thank someone upon receiving a compliment, my dear,"he gently lectured.
Raven only seemed to tense more. "…thank you. I'm…not used to compliments."
"I imagine not. Who would compliment a demon?"
The words stung deep. The way his voice stressed that word, the way he somehow turned his compliment into an insult. And that no matter what he had said just now, it didn't affect how she enjoyed his nearness. How she cherished the way he held her, rubbed the knots from her skin. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with him?
Indeed, what was? Why would he compliment a demon?
"But…you compliment me," she stated with some nervousness. "Why?"
Slade couldn't help but easily note the double meaning behind her statement. Yes, he paid her a token of kindness, but it also could mean that the two were compatible.
"I believe that compliments raise one's self esteem, tell me, when was the last time your friends offered you such a gift?" Slade's lips pulled into that of an arrogant smirk. He had attacked Arella concerning the bond of love between them, why not go two for two and rise to question the true love of her friends? If she thought they didn't care for her as much as she anticipated, where else could she attain that comfort?
And Raven did need comfort, regardless of which side gave it. She was dealing not only with her closely nearing destiny but with the strange turn of events that stirred such strong reactions when close to her father's servant. Unquestioningly, she briefly sensed through her empathy that he truly wanted to know her answer, and thus she thought. Moments later, she could not recall any form of compliment, nothing overtly sincere or above the norm that seemed to flutter through the tower. In that brief moment, Raven almost panicked.
No. Forget it. Slade's messing with you. Besides, they accept me for what I am. That is the greatest compliment they could ever give me.
"Not any of the ones you're probably thinking of," she answered her voice less terse than before. Recalling their acceptance renewed and reminded again why she was here: to save them. It still didn't remove the stiffness of her form pressed against his.
Slade sighed deeply into her hair, and another shudder emerged from her. "I believe I've never seen you this…distressed."
It was perfect. He had the miserable little wench all to himself, to tease, to play with. And the fringe benefit? Raven was resisting the urges to make use of the seal placed on his neck in order to believe she was succeeding in her attempts to capture his heart. He could virtually get away with anything he wanted from her until she realized her heart was swayed to him.
Do not become too comfortable, Slade. She is my daughter first. I may have given you her body and her mind, but remember this: she belongs to no one completely but me.
Somehow those words prickled him in the worst possible way. But Slade did well to not allow surprise to be known with the visit from his master. Raven, however, had easily sensed the sinister darkness within the air. Perhaps not what it was, or who it was, but that something was there. It served to tense her body all the more, and she gladly sunk further into Slade's arms, a subconscious whim to flatten back and appear small from something powerful.
Now… Her heart is all ready swayed. Make her admit it. Force her hand.
Hand? What was Trigon insinuating? The witch could do little but hope to make him love her, and he was far exceeding her in that task to do likewise. There was no reason to push. Apparently Trigon believed otherwise. Already he could feel a burning upon his brow in commandment. Trigon's will would not be ignored.
He could still have fun while doing it.
"I think I may be able to relieve some of that tension," Slade articulated. Then added, "And no, it isn't that."
This peculiar news caught the full of Raven's attention. Curiously, but with her face set in her usual hard and skeptical expression, she craned her neck to look up at him. Slade looked back down at her, their eyes meeting for the first time that night. Her lavender brows knit to enhance her skeptical face. Flatly, with the detection of a playful twitch, she questioned him. "Just what did you have in mind?"
Within minutes Slade had led her down several hallways and even a flight of stairs within his massive abode. All the while, Raven couldn't help but try to scrutinize the meaning behind Slade's words. It would seem that he hadn't meant anything in relation to her body's functions as a result of more recent of his actions. That didn't denote it still wasn't an inner intention. Her empathy revealed that something was up within his mind, something deceitful, and that alone cause her to follow Slade with bullets being starred into his back.
Finally as they neared a door, Raven shot several steps ahead of him, coming between him and the door. An uneasy glare was on her face. "Just what were you doing today?"
Slade paused and took heed of the appearance he was in. Originally he donned the outfit to call the Blood Clan, and then after Arella, then the titans. He had been away from his charge the bulk of the day, and Slade could not fully explain the pull that caused him to see to her first before changing. But Raven needn't know that.
"I was attending to some matters." He said it with distaste for her question. His body moved to open the door, but Raven shifted before his hand, still unsatisfied.
"Nothing harming your friends." Slade's eye narrowed in a growing display of annoyance.
Raven starred at his face for a silent moment to weigh the truth behind his words. Needless to say, what he said was right. Slade had done nothing to outright harm her friends. Her aggressive appearance was released with a sigh to be replaced with a more stunned and embarrassed expression. With no other questions, Raven moved to the side of the door and Slade promptly opened it.
Instantly Raven's gaze was met with a masseuse's table and a wide array of rubbing oils and ointments. The memories of her separation with the others during their stranded fiasco on an alien planet gave well enough away she liked a good massage. Slade simply accessed those memories and used them now.
Despite her earlier heavy heart and her minor, yet strong aggression concerning her friends' welfare, all of it seemed to melt away as her lips quirked into a small spark of a smirk. Her head cocked slightly up to him and she gave him an inquiring look. Jokingly, she responded, "Throw in a pint of vanilla, and I might be tempted to take you home."
"Where I'd be abused by Robin?" Slade mocked a face of helplessness. "I'd prefer you stayed here."
"Well then," Raven glanced over her shoulder as she strolled into the room. Referencing the night in the study, added, "No more complaints about leeching."
Slade followed in after her. "You aren't leeching when you are a guest."
Raven stopped before the table, set at a relative height in comparison to Slade's. Clearly he had offered others massages before; additionally, Raven's mind flashed to a memory of Slade's: one that had displayed his skills upon Adeline. A flickering moment revealed Raven's face scrunched into a loathing sneer, a reminder to her brief bout of insanity. But it was just that, a flicker, and her face loosened to one of nervousness again. It brought back the notion she had earlier made that she was in fact jealous of Slade's late wife. Likewise, Raven forced herself to not think of it, for it only made matters worse. The jealousy hinted she had liked Slade all the more. Any more evidence to that possibility would surely cause her a standstill. It would force her to reflect upon everything she was doing.
That was just something Raven couldn't afford.
Slade pulled her from her thoughts. "Take off your clothes."
Raven blinked consecutively a moment, stunned once more. First her mind flitted to the idea Slade had only wanted to use her body once again. Her second thoughts directed her that it wasn't unnatural for one to be naked during a massage. He was in fact gathering warmed towels and placing them down upon the table, with extras to place upon her for modesty sake. It was just like the shower. He actually appeared to be doing something civil.
The order didn't hinder her from giving him a well earned glare as he turned to look back at her. It seemed lately she hadn't been filling her daily quota, and Slade was overdue for his share of them. In regards to it, he did nothing but turn back to gathering the materials he was looking for. With the unsaid threat of him looking at her issued, Raven went about discarding her clothing, constantly giving the other paranoid glances until she was nude. Swiftly following, Raven climbed onto the table and lowered her front down upon the tables, grabbing the extra towel to place over her glutes.
Finally Slade turned around prepared. Removing his gloves and making sure his hands were warm, he allowed for his fingers to gently search the center of her back. "I'm assuming that, since Robin's never hired an occasional masseuse, you've had to deal with unnecessary pain."
Raven tensed just slightly at him feeling away at her back. Trying to not focus upon the close touching, she answered, "Not really. Most of the time my attacks aren't physical." Ah, Slade found her spine. "So I never pull anything," He placed both hands to either side of the vertebrae column. "Usually it's Robin or Beast Bo—oof!" Slade forced down with the weight of his body and several pops reverberated. Raven only had the time to breathe in again before Slade slid his hands down further and repeated. This was followed three more times and finally Raven rested her head down in her arms, eyes closed and a pleased smile on her lips.
Slade chuckled softly. "You were saying?"
"Hmm?" Raven opened one eye to him, unable to wipe the smirk from her face. To that Slade prepared to rub some oil into her skin. "Usually it's Robin or Beast Boy that need it, but Starfire's 'Tamaranian Accupressure' seem to work well enough...Oh mmm"
Slade began to tenderly rub into her back, kneading the knots out of her skin. A knowing expression was on his aged visage. "But you disagree?"
"Mmm, this is much better…," she responded, praise clearly in her voice.
Sometimes one didn't realize how much their body could hurt until its reset, renewed, and given a good rub down. That was Raven's case. Perhaps she didn't need this while she was at the tower, but the training crash course Slade gave Raven earlier through the night had left her with wanting this. And there was merit to what Slade said. Robin never hired anyone to do this, something Raven wished he had in the past. Wasn't it true that athletes had masseuses? They pulled muscles and knocked bones out of alignment all the time, something the titans tended to do as well.
At that moment, Raven didn't care that Slade was a formerly living psychopath that now served her demonic father. Right now the man could work miracles. His touches were nothing like the manner he gave her during their copulations, which were usually aggressive and dominating. These were more sensual and delicate, but not without the pressure needed to relieve the tension in her being. What was once hands whose scorching touch brought flaming inscriptions to her skin now were a welcoming release to pain she didn't know she had. Who would have guessed that Raven would allow someone to touch her this way? Certainly not the titans.
Slade also noticed this change. Within minutes Raven had melted to his sensual administrations. It seemed she was much more willing to be handled in this fashion than in others he'd seen or tried. There was a smug pride in knowing this, in succeeding where even her friends or mother could not. He would have been content with just that, issuing out of her slight coos and moans of appreciation, which would eventually lead down a more physical therapy. But even now the fire upon his brow began to burn in impatience. Slade couldn't hold it up any longer.
"What really did you do today, Slade?" she broke his inner musings. By this time the empath was well relaxed into a peaceful bliss.
"Funny you should mention that..." It was now or never. "I saw your mother today."
Lavender eyes widened as a silent gasp left her mouth. She lifted her head in stunned silence, trying to process what the other had just spoken to her. Her mother couldn't have been alive. She'd died on Azarath, Trigon had killed her. He had pointed out she was gone. Softly, harshly, she spat, "You lie."
"Raven, you know better than to accuse me of that," Slade scolded. Just as any calm had left her voice, most of it had abandoned Slade's as well. Now there was only seriousness between the two, and quietly Raven realized this was the mischief she had earlier sensed from him.
"My mother can't be alive," Raven sulkily argued, placing her head back into her arms sadly. "I would have sensed her."
"Would have," he pointed out. "Must I remind you that you are His daughter? If he didn't want you to know she still lived He would have prevented you from sensing it."
Raven's shoulders tensed up again, showing she was through with what ever relaxation Slade had meant for her. Was it really possible? How could Arella have survived? Her mother didn't have the strength for instant teleporting, never mind the distance between Earth and Azarath. Not unless her father…
Raven turned slightly in modesty to look back up at Slade with inquiring, scrutinized eyes. Frowning, she said in a small, hesitant voice, "Can I…see her?"
Slade stepped closer to her and she reached up to touch his head. Closing her eyes, Raven gently inserted her presence into his mind, absorbing all of the memories he had obtained since their last mental coupling. What met her was astounding.
Not only did the horrors of seeing her mother so viciously beaten come as a surprise to her, but there was something darker, something worse. Trigon had stayed well in contact with His messenger. Orders had been issued, orders Slade had every intention of carrying out... orders to do unto her what she had been trying all along, because Slade knew them all along.
With a start she jerked back, eyes wide with untold astonishment and uncertainty. Stuttering, she accused, "Y-you know?!"
Slade looked down upon her with a face set in stone resolve. "I've known from the moment you conceived the thought. What's more…" his hands darted like lightning to her sides. She fought, struggled, but Slade flipped her to her back with little effort. "I know it's backfired."
Raven refused to stay lying down. She continued to buck as he drew himself upon the table and straddled her waist, taking her wrists in his hands and pinning her down. Angrily she glared back up at him. Determined with reason, she shouted, "I can make it work!"
As she said it she forced the charter mark on his neck to flare to life, and Slade cringed, barely containing the howl from such a bite. Struggling, he clenched out, "I beg to differ. You see it's backfired on you in the worst, possible way..."
Her body disregarded the command, retaining a reserve of power leaving her with little time to hold onto the mark. Raven gasped in exhaustion, unable to hold the charge of her power over him any longer. Slade paused, both dramatically and in obtaining back his own breath. Finally, he hissed with more pleasure than necessary, "You love me."
"NO!" Raven yelled back in denial.
One hand left her wrists as the other managed to hold both. It trailed down her arm, to the curve of her exposed breast, before he brought it back to her cheek. There he cupped it, rubbing it with affection. Raven pulled her head away, but Slade quickly grabbed hold of her chin, directing her attention upon him. "Do I excite you, little demon?"
It was then Raven saw it for the first time. His flesh seemed to melt away, dripping off of his face in a grotesque example of false visionary. Skin slipped away, muscles dissolved, the eye seemed to shrivel and sink within to its socket. The bones emerged, black, charred and brittle with only the barest of essential muscles, tendons, and ligaments to allow for movement.
Eyes went wide in terror at the sights and touch of his boney body on her.
His mandible moved; clacking as its joints rawly ground together. "Admit. It."
"NO!" She shrieked.
It was never there. No evidence existed inside the mind of his. She had never known. Had never detected that Slade was truthfully as he appeared before her. Raven had always suspected Slade agreed to servitude to Trigon for life…but this wasn't living. He was renting his found mortality; an explanation as to why Raven had so easily saw glimpses of his mind so early on. This…this however, this information had been blocked from her, by almost certainly her father.
"Would you rather I expose the evidence to your friends?" His skeletal body leaned in closer to her face. "How you let me take your mind?" Closer. "Your body?" He was right before her shaking, trembling, sweating, crying self. "How you begged me to take you this morning?" The smell of his decay stretched and fought deep within her nasal cavities, stirring a fresh sickness inside her gut. Her stomach lurched, barely containing whatever might have been in it.
Ill, she whimpered "No! I-I admit it!"
Though the skin and muscles were missing to create the evidence of a triumphant smirk, the sentiments of it were still present to Slade. "Admit what?" he prodded.
This had been it. Raven had been confronted with the question she had been clearly avoiding herself. Why had she been so vengefully jealous of Adeline? Why had Joseph's words affected her so much? Why had she so easily let Slade finally take her mind, her body? Why had she enjoyed the sex they had? The answers were clearly before her. She hadn't done it just to assure her friends' protection….Raven had really wanted it, wanted it all from Slade.
"I…I-I…" Raven struggled for her voice. Her eyes watered as she had no choice but to stare up at the bones pinning her down. Finally, she forced it out. "Love…you…"
The horrible truth dawned upon her and sank in. Like her mother hours before, Raven's body loosened from any tension, allowing herself to finally tremble in defeat. Victorious, Slade released her suddenly, watching as she curled up to cover herself. Satisfied, he removed himself from her and left, skin growing back into place.
The first thing Raven did was locate the nearest bathroom and vomit to her stomach's content. It was a cleansing, her body trying to rid herself of the poisonous, ghastly smells of decayed human remains. Yet, as good as this was, it could not cleanse her mind of the images, of the horrible truth that now loomed heavily above her. She loved Slade.
What did that mean? What could it mean? Was it a result of her demonic nature becoming attracted to someone so deviously evil? That she hungered and lusted for him every waking moment? Or did her father play a role in this? Yes, Trigon ordered Slade to strike the feelings inside her, but she wondered if Trigon somehow manipulated the way she felt.
Her stomach wrenched, and Raven's face lowered near the porcelain bowl as she opened her mouth wide to gag up whatever was coming. Once it had passed, she whimpered while placing her forehead to the cold glass and simply rested, trying not to think. But thought was relentless.
She couldn't help but feel that Trigon hadn't manipulated her, as much as she had hoped for the fault not to be of her own. Raven had come to enjoy Slade when he actually was somewhat tolerable. There were moments where she felt almost certain that there was a mutual respect between them. It wasn't like the respect she earned from Robin, or any of her friends. It was something greater. Perhaps it was because of her powers; she admitted that he was handling considerably well before he met her father. But even now with the added power there was an easy way he controlled it. Like seeks like, power seeks power.
Then there were the games. Slade played such excellent, elegant games with her, games that Raven could actually keep up with. Most of the time, at least, that's what she told herself. When had Robin ever managed to keep up with Slade in the manner she had? If Robin was neck and neck with Slade, she was head and head with him. There was something there, this only accounted for it.
However Raven refused to allow herself to be the entire blame. It wasn't just to ease the burden of the mess she was in; it was part of the truth. There was a beast always inside her, growing since the fiasco started. Surely with her growing power, her demonic side would filter through and affect some of her choices. Clearly Raven amounted to her demonic heritage all the lustful actions, the begging for him, and the jealous, vengeful-driven murder of Adeline.
On some level, Raven supposed that part didn't surprise her. If Trigon had deemed Slade to be the newest Brother Blood figure head, her demonic side was bound to become possessive of him.
That was it, she shook her head, rubbing her temples. It had gone too far. What was supposed to be an ingenious effort to save her friends from fate worse than death had gone horribly astray and backfired on her. Wasn't there any hope? Any possible way she could divert destiny's hand from smiting those she loved most? Raven didn't feel as if she was asking for too much. She had already resigned herself to the prophecy. The portal would be opened, so why couldn't the lives of four be spared?
Raven was at a loss. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was a strong woman, with an iron will; her emotional control was unmatched…yet she somehow fell in love. It had been bound to happen. Meditation prevented a renewal of that control. And now that her body was reserving power for the portal her emotions were no longer an issue. With the lax in control gained laziness, a false sense of security. It was no wonder that Slade had weaseled himself so easily into her being.
It would be untrue for her to regret ever thinking about heading after Slade through Adeline. There was no point worrying about the past. She had told it once to Beast Boy. It had happened, and Raven couldn't change that. But she could focus upon the future.
The bleak, utterly devastated remains of the future…
She stood slowly, almost dizzily from the toilet. Her mind was too clouded with conflicting thoughts and just the turmoil of the revelation. She needed consistency. She needed an anchor. She needed something to reassure her and tell her what to do so she didn't have to think about it.
She needed Robin.
As this realization dawned on her several questions did as well. What could she even say to him? How could she explain? No, she couldn't. Robin would skin her alive knowing that she had feelings for the masked villain. Then what? If she even knew what to say he would demand her to come home, or to escape to an area they could find her. That wouldn't be helping; it would only be running from the problem. And truthfully, Raven was just as tired of running as she was fighting. Either or, none of it still solved the hardest question of all? Could she still have hope to save her friends?
There was still a way... wasn't there? Surely there was. Raven could probably come up with a countless number of solutions, all of which she'd gladly plug and try. Given she had the time, and that was the one thing Raven no longer had. There wasn't time for a new plan.
"So that's it? I'm screwed," she muttered to herself, raking a pale, quivering hand through her hair.
She was done playing. She scoffed at the word. Alright, if there had been no other solution, why was she still sticking around then? The best thing for her was to call Robin and leave. Put up the wall between Slade and herself. The sudden thought of that dug a striking ache in her chest, and Raven disliked it. But she refused to let it hinder her.
Instantly she felt around herself with her mind, expanding her range of senses to oversee the mansion and its property. The first immediate presence was Slade's, but he was stagnant and unmoving from his study. Quickly she focused upon Wintergreen. Then she was moving, traveling through the walls and floors to reach the friend of the man she equally loved and despised. When she emerged he jumped with a start, nearly scaring him shitless.
"Miss Raven, you startled me." A fast recovery on his part. Raven expected no less if he worked for Slade.
"Are my clothes ready?" Her voice was dark and terse. She was ready to leave.
"Ah, no, I'm still repairing the bullet holes."
Her empathy brushed his mind. It was the truth and nothing more. "Did you take a circular object that was with my clothes?"
He looked thoughtful, but then his face sparked into one of realization. "Yes, I believe so, would you wish me to retrieve it?"
Her silent nod was the only answer. He returned shortly with the object in tow, handing the communicator to her with out hesitation.
"I'll be on grounds, but I don't want to be disturbed." In other words, she wanted Slade far from her.
Wintergreen took the hint. Again, Raven anticipated this much if he worked for Slade. "My lips are sealed, Miss."
She nodded again, leaving the same way she came. This time she floated up and out of the manor entirely. Raven was certain Slade could feel this; no doubt his curiosity was spiked. He remained unmoving, however. The empath was thankful for this. She didn't want to be anywhere near him, and he suspected that. The damage he dealt her was already done; he hadn't needed to be around her at the moment. Now, all she needed was privacy.
Amethyst eyes fell upon a private greenhouse on the property. She recognized it during her skirmish with Slade earlier that morning. It was perfect. Without a second thought, she dove down to the building, happy to find its door unlocked. Raven stepped in, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the evening, and scoped out the building's layout. Wordlessly, she stepped further inside, heading down and as far back into the foliage as possible.
Eventually, she reached an area that satisfied her: a room facing the mansion but with a wall of greenery erected as a divider. On her side of the wall were several potted trees whose leaves were long and covering. Raven pushed her way into the trees' protection and took a seat on the ground. For a brief, silent moment she stared at the device in hand. Once her wits were collected, a hold of herself gained, she quickly opened the communicator, turned it on, and hit the call button.
A moment elapsed without response before the familiar face of Robin blipped up upon the tiny screen. He appeared as if he was knee-deep in research. Raven instantly felt a pang of guilt; no doubt he was doing this because of her.
"Robin," she greeted, speaking his name with seriousness, deepness, the guilt stifled.
"Raven?" His voice was of incredulous surprise. Worry crossed his features. "Are you alright?! Did he hurt you?!"
"I'm fine," she assured him, her voice still strong and entirely professional. Robin stared a moment more, trying to look hard as if to force a more concrete answer from her. It was a fight between their wills. Normally on any given day, Raven could play this game with Robin for hours. She was the master of stubbornness. But tonight was different. Tonight all her efforts, the wear and tear of everything had finally taken its toll on her. Raven's face was the first to falter. She sighed in defeat, fatigue evident on every ounce of her body.
"I'm not fine," she murmured to him in surrender.
This had been something Robin had always wanted from Raven: a truthful response without any side-stepping. But now it seemed he would have given anything just to hear Raven insist she were the epitome of fine. His mind flitted to his earlier discussion with Slade.
"What did he do? He didn't touch you, did he?" There was a vicious animosity that rang from him.
"Not without my consent," she pushed back, her voice defensive. Shit. She slammed her unseen fist on the floor. Raven hadn't intended to say that, and Robin could see that unspoken thought in her eyes.
"You let him…" his eyes bulged. Raven couldn't determine what that meant.
Robin's fast-acting logic routed suitable answers. It was quite easily a loss of control. Raven had resorted to one or her more demonic fits, and that was end result. The very fact that Raven had let the information slip from her may have been part due to the integration of Slade into her psyche. Or, it was more logical, that Slade had truly raped her and had guilted Raven into believing she had consented to the matter. The thought had never re-crossed his mind that the order Raven had first given him to prevent Slade from having intercourse with her without consent still stood.
Whatever the truth had been, Robin refused to believe that Raven would actually, willingly of sound mind, submit to Slade. It was unfathomable, but one thing was for certain; he had to get Raven out of her situation. She was hurt and in danger.
Robin quickly caught himself. "Do you know where you are? Something's wrong with the communicator's tracking chip."
Raven stared at Robin, a look of sheer confusion and surprise upon her face. Had Robin just ignored what she had just said? It wasn't possible for Robin to simply misinterpret what was uttered. He had chosen to ignore what had happened, her masked friend more concerned with bringing her to safety than anything else.
"Raven?" Robin's voice fell on her ears.
Right. She shook her head. Tracking… Raven inspected the device. Wintergreen had removed it. Or Slade had.
Raven found she couldn't answer Robin's first question. Her throat constricted. Desperately more than ever she missed the comfort of her friends. There wasn't anything more that she wanted beyond being in their safe company. But giving them her location would allow for them to come and invade Slade's life. An invisible fist squeezed around her heart, leaving her conflicted. She loved them all, yet Slade had taken a precedent in her life.
The choice was the worst she had ever made.
"No." She forced the lie meekly back in response. Now she was fighting to contain the tears she knew were beginning to well in her eyes. Robin had already seen her at her weakest, she would not allow him the privilege again. Yet the boy was so damn observant.
"He still forced you, hadn't he?" Robin's voice was surprisingly gently, carefully delicate with concern, caring. "You wouldn't be this upset if he hadn't."
What could she tell him? That she'd been sleeping around with the enemy because of the stupid idea it would 'save her friends' and to justify filling some demonic, lustful need? That would really go over well with the Boy Wonder. Robin seemed willing to overlook what she had let Slade do to her, Raven gave him that much. This was a different matter. But wasn't it true? For a time she felt there was no other choice. It was for her friends.
"Yes." Her face scrunched up with uncertainty. Even she had trouble believing her own words.
There was nothing else to say, nothing else to do. Slade had won. Trigon had won. There was no saving her friends. Yet…Robin stared back at her, his mask raised with deeply built unease. How could she just give up on these people, her friends, her family?
Her heart squeezed tighter still in her chest, Raven feared it would pop. And at the moment where it was at its tightest, a thought struck her. Her plan wasn't bad. It had never been stupid; in fact it was thorough with little holes. What had Starfire said so long ago, the last they heard of Mad Mod? That they lived in a democracy and that compromise made them strong. There was nothing wrong with her plan. Raven could still use it. She just had to approach it differently.
"Robin?" Her voice was still meek, shaky, but it seemed a small strength was beginning to grow in it.
The thought was insane. Just as insane as when she contrived it originally. This was just more efficient. But could she? Could she even go through with it?
"Yes?"
"If I did something I knew you wouldn't approve of, but you knew it would help—" eyes downcast to her side glanced uneasily to look back to him, "—would you hate me?"
For the briefest second Robin recalled the last he saw her. When she was on her knees, begging he kill her after he admitted the discovery of her heritage. All he could envision was Raven's body, bleeding in unthinkable places, dead. It was the fear of the possibility that Raven was indicating suicide.
"If it doesn't involve taking lives in any way, then I have no choice but to rely on your judgment." He strained his voice, pleading silently that Raven refrain from doing something stupid.
Raven blinked at him with surprise. Had he just agreed? "Robin?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you." She cut off the transmission before he could utter another word, and turned off the communicator. He wouldn't be calling her back.
For a moment she just sat there, letting it sink in. There was a way; at least, it was the last effort she could engineer. Without it, there would be no other options left. Slade had made her love him. And somewhere in that heap of unliving flesh there was something, some spark of emotion towards her as well. It was small, insignificant to Slade, but to her…
Raven had never thought of it. Had never done it before. She wanted to make Slade love her, except she went about it all wrong. Hers was the body of an empath. Emotions were her palette to create, taste, enjoy. With her powers peaking, ripening, couldn't she manipulate that media just as she summoned Slade to her side? Raven wouldn't make Slade love her; she would instill and magnify what was hidden until he loved her naturally.
It was tricky; the effects on herself were uncharted. But wasn't that a risk worth taking? If the fruits of her labor were, well, fruitful, then her friends could live. There was no more questioning. Raven prepared herself for the task at hand.
Like earlier, she calmly spread her consciousness, allowed it to seep out and around her radially. With this she honed in on Slade. Already she could sense his presence, his consciousness. She could sense him sensing her presence. Slade knew she was reaching out to him. It didn't matter; by the time he could do anything it would be too late. Metaphorically she placed a mental hand deep within his consciousness, snaking past and delving into realms of sub-consciousness. Here she felt for the abstractions of emotions, picking and moving, forcing and tugging until she found a hidden bundle of lust.
It was insatiable, overwhelming at first. But Raven held firm. Her desire to save her friends kept her holding onto control. Thus she began to paint. Hues exploded in emotions smudged in every direction. Paint was lavishly administered with the hidden suggestions of care and desire. There were layers to build. Stroke upon stroke, depth became apparent. Finally something would take form…
Raven gasped hungrily as she collapsed to her elbows. It had been a lengthy process. Her energy was leaving her. How long had it been? Panting, she raised her eyes to her surroundings. Night had fallen. The dark magus swallowed, and then panted again. Had it worked? How could she tell?
There wasn't any way, least none she could think of at the moment. Dizzily she gathered herself and stood. There would be no point in seeking him out. Raven didn't want to test it tonight. She had enough of Slade from earlier. It could wait until the morning…then if nothing had changed, she would leave, give up, resign her efforts and let fate handle her friends. The thought pained her, but there was nothing else she could do. Raven had given it the old college try. Now she had to play the waiting game…
A game that wouldn't keep her waiting long. Suddenly, she felt Slade moving, rushing. Oh no. The color left her cheeks. Slade was not happy. Raven rushed to the entrance to make her escape, but he was there no faster than it took her to reach the greenhouse's door.
"What did you do!?" His voice was raised, his face heated in a vindictive sneer. Slade's body towered over hers. Broad, armored shoulders filled the width of the door, effectively blocking her inside.
Raven's eyes widened as she backed up instinctively. Not once had she felt the brunt of Slade's temper. It appeared that was about to change.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!" he screamed at her again, storming inside, running at her.
Raven yelped, shielding herself with her arms as her black energy formed and deflected the blow of his raised and pummeling fists. Her legs twisted, stumbled, making her trip backwards to land on her bottom. The shield failed as he rushed to strike her. His hand stopped centimeters from her cheek. It shivered, quivered, shook with tremendous ferocity, restraining, threatening to hit her, barely resisting.
And there it was. Both were positioned in frozen stances, eyes wide and staring at the other. Raven gaped with terrified orbs, breath hinged and stuck within her throat, waiting for the blow to come. When Slade found he could not will his hand to connect with her cheek, he pulled back once more. Raven tensed for it, but this attempt also ended in failure. Once more, his hand halted before her head, pausing and trembling with unused anger.
Raven willed an eye open to witness Slade's brow furrow, his one eye narrowing, and his lips pulling back into a heated snarl. His hand continued to shake, the vibrations traveling up his arm and through him until his whole body was shivering with the repressed action. Slowly, painfully, his fingers pulled under into the shape of a fist. Her heart throbbed against her chest hard and fast, screaming for Raven to take in a breath.
"Why can't I strike you?!" In a frustrated cry of aggression, Slade spun around and finally managed to misdirect the attack by slamming his fist into the nearest potting table. The wood splintered and buckled from the force. Raven flinched, unable to turn away, unable to move.
"Why can't I strike you?!" he cried again, reeling his arms back and sliding them across the table, flinging everything across the room in a fit. Slade collapsed upon his elbows, hunched over the table. His chest rang with heavy breaths. Finally he lifted his face and glared at Raven with a look of pure hatred, one that pierced her soul.
Raven's breath refused to return to her.
Slade pulled himself from the table. With one last defiant display of fury, he flung the table over in a huff. Then he left. No words. No looks. He simply left.
A gasp. Raven gulped air greedily, as if finally remembering the components to breathing. Numbly, the events registered in her mind. Panicked, she began to stand to her feet, still finding herself unable to stop staring at Slade's mess.
What had she done?
AN: What Raven had done was similar to something that had occurred in the comics. Back when Raven was trying to form a team to battle Trigon, she was desperate for members. Raven had manipulated Kid Flash to love her at the time he declined any offer to join a team of heroes at that time, giving him motivation to stay. Later on that relationship jumped ship, and had placed a strained working relationship between the two since.
Ok…so that's all story related notes I can think of. Sorry this took so long to get out, things have been hectic here, and bound to become more as the season draws near. I've all ready started picking up a lot more hours at work, so I can't guarantee when I'll get the next chapter out to you. Not that I had before, but still. I hope this tides you guys over for a while.
Again, a special thanks to my beta reader, Kendra Chetnova, who has no clue how much I appreciate her fixing my grammar mistakes.