Can't seem to get away from Raven's point of view. Aaaaargh.

So, yeah, a more traditional Raven-beating-herself-up-over-things-she-can't-change sort of drabble. I really need to broaden my views on this one.

Just because it's pretty vague, this is set right before The End. Or maybe The Prophecy. Can't remember which.

Thanks for all of your fragrance suggestions (and all the lovely reviews)! Tenisgal456's suggestion of warm homemade chocolate chip cookies and Sylver's idea of an ocean breeze were lovely. Thanks oodles! I'm going to go out and buy some diffusers now. :)

Oh! Almost forgot! There was an amazing storm this evening, which inspired this chapter. Absolutely beautiful. We were grilling steak on the back porch and then whoosh! These winds came whipping through. Branches were cracking from the trees and raining down on us. So what did I do? I made tea. And then stood out there, in the midst of the storm, and watched it. Haha.

I've bored you long enough! Enjoy, dahlings! And just to torture you, after this kind of boring drabble will be a kind of cool 7-chapter sequence…but you'll see what I mean when I post them. :)

--

Prompt #6: Storm

The rooftop was open to the storm, and Raven was glad.

She spread her arms wide and tipped her face up towards the angry sky. The clouds were white but the air was very dark, and she kind of liked the strange, unearthly light. She liked the hissing sound the rain made as it sheeted down from the sky, and she liked the way the thunder made the teeth rattle in her head.

It suited her mood: dark, primal, and absolutely ferocious.

She wanted this monsoon to erase her thoughts. She didn't want to wonder about anything. She didn't want to speculate on the whats or the hows (she already knew when and where—but that didn't really make it any better).

So Raven let herself stand in the rain, even as the lightning ventured close and the wind became dangerous.

A thought flickered into her head unbidden, try as she did to suppress it:

Maybe this downpour was from inside of her. Maybe she was opening up her soul, unleashing every secret she had never wanted to remember, and the sheer force of it turned into a tempest.

It was a strange thought.

And yet…It seemed right, to lay herself bare. It seemed right, to stop wondering. It seemed right, to cease existing, and to just succumb.

Without really knowing what she was doing, Raven tore the cloak from her neck and dropped it, soaked and heavy, to the ground. Rain lashed her bare shoulders, but her conscience shrank to just a tiny pinpoint of light, and then it disappeared entirely.

It felt right, to open herself up to the sky—so Raven closed her eyes, and succumbed.

The storm battered her body: she didn't realize she was being forced into a kneeling position until the frigid metal of the floor pressed into her knees. Screaming winds tore at her arms and legs, batting her around like a bear as it mauls its victim. The lightning seared her eyes; the thunder shook her bones. Rain, cold and constant, beat a tattoo into her face as she tilted it up into the storm.

For how long she was pummeled by the storm, she couldn't say—every second blurred into another. It could have been minutes, hours, days. Nothing existed outside of the torrent. Every shred of her individuality was stripped away by the raw force of wind and water.

She ceased to be Raven.

She became part of the storm.

And to her immense disappointment, when the storm started to fade, it didn't take her with it.

Her conscience began to expand again, and thoughts filled her head in lazy spirals. Raven opened her eyes, just a shred, and blinked raindrops away from her eyelashes. The rain was less dangerous now—merely falling, instead of lashing. She sighed. Maybe she should get up and dry off before she caught pneumonia.

But it was so much easier just to keep kneeling there on the rooftop. So she stayed.

After a while, her brain waves stopped flatlining and began to remind her of why she was up there in the first place. Raven listlessly wished the rain would start gushing again, if only to drain her thoughts away. But, if anything, it merely slowed.

She didn't want to have to think.

She really, really didn't want to have to think.

But unfortunately, the one person who would force her to came up the stairs at that very moment, and he wasn't about to let her off the hook.

"Raven? What are you doing up here?"

Raven shifted on her knees to avoid talking to him for a second, noticing vaguely that her legs had fallen asleep. "Thinking," she eventually murmured, wondering if he was empathetic enough to pick up on her tangled emotions and leave her alone. And then she wondered if he was empathetic enough to know that she was lying to him.

"But it was pouring."

Nope. Not even a blip on his internal lie detector. He really needed to sharpen up a little bit.

She nodded and looked over to Jump City, wondering if the civilians there would take in a half-demon as one of their own. Robin knelt down beside her, his boots squeaking on the metal floor. "Is everything okay?" His voice, always serious, had a darker undertone to it.

"No, not really."

There was no sense in lying to him about that part. He'd know soon enough. They all would.

"Oh."

Raven closed her eyes again, wishing he would just leave her alone, and at the same time wanting to confide in him. At least someone would know. Why shouldn't it be Robin? He was her best friend. Why shouldn't she tell him?

Because she was a coward, that was why. Because she was just a little girl, forever afraid of her daddy and what he would do when he got angry.

They were quiet for a long time, and the rain eventually slowed, then stopped. Robin ran a hand through his hair and little water droplets dripped down the back of his neck. He stood up and offered a hand to her, and even though she didn't want to move, Raven pulled herself up. All of the blood rushed to her head and she staggered into him dizzily.

"You okay?" He slung her arm around his shoulder, half-carrying her back towards the stairs.

She nodded and shrugged at the same time. As the ferocity of the storm died away, so did her emotions, and suddenly all she felt was tired. Every bone in her body ached from the storm batting her around, and she was drained to her very core. She leaned heavily against Robin as they made their way to the trap door.

"The storm ended," he remarked lightly, as if trying to ease the tension between them.

Something in his words made her stop. Raven looked at him, bedraggled from the rain. She felt a mirthless laugh bubble up inside of her. And when she spoke, her voice suddenly had the metallic quality of Slade in it: cold, and calculating, and desperate, in a way.

Raven shook her head slowly and tottered down the steps with him, smothering the weird, tittery laughter that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Oh no, Robin. The storm is only beginning."