Robin had Raven's elbow in a death grip.
The alarm still sounded, squealing loudly as the trio of Raven, Robin, and Cyborg marched down the hallway toward the safe room. There had been no message from Beast Boy and Starfire, the two who had been sent to investigate the breakout.
It was obviously killing Robin that he wasn't there searching for his nemesis, his glare seemed to be a new part of his mask; however, there was a good probability that the villain would find him instead of the other way around.
Thus, the action would most likely take place just where Robin was.
Cyborg's arm cannon was lit up, prepared for anything, he squinted, a tight grin on his face. He lived for this stuff.
Raven, on the other hand, was not so intent, and far more terrified. The plan of action for her to start a new life somewhere else seemed like a small hole of light in an otherwise dark void. Crime fighting would have to be put behind her, but the opportunity to start anew was extremely tempting. Ideas of where she would go, what she would do…maybe even what her child would do. Would she put him or her in sports? Or it could be a poet? A scientist? A painter?
Instinctively she pressed a clammy hand to her bloated stomach. She had never really thought about it before.
The mundane seemed like a dream now, but it helped to focus on something besides the fact that a loosed maniac was hunting her down.
It was thinking about this potential danger that set off a new emotion in Raven, a new cloak added to the collection.
All this time she had felt helpless against destiny, her responsibilities, and choices. It had consumed her how much she panicked about her own fate. Yet, pondering about a different future, that of her child's, had freed her from a self-obsessed anxiety.
It wasn't just her anymore.
She wasn't the mopey, angst-ridden teen she had been before the cavern. In the way that Robin lost his childlike innocence when he came back, so did she, but in a far dissimilar way. Instead of innocence, she lost selfishness.
Like a gear she never tried, a motherly protection raged in her, and she shook Robin's patronizing hand off, and walked on her own. He flinched for a moment at her fervor, but he did not argue. This way he could use both hands to throttle Slade.
She kept up, and would have outrun them all, but she remained cautious. Although she embraced this particular emotion, she did not let it rule her.
They were close to the safe room, and each of them picked up their pace, their eyes remaining sharp. It almost surprised Raven when they reached their destination intact. Slade had not tried once. Surely he knew where they were going, which way they took.
Raven looked around her—nothing but the red tint of the alarm filtering throughout the building.
Puzzled, she walked into the familiar room, remembering it from the first time she hid from Slade-at the end of the world. It was a steely, circular room with a viewing area above her with darkly tinted, bullet-proof windows.
There was no connection between the two floors. She guessed that was intentional, making it more difficult for an enemy to get in if he had no choice but to use the front door.
Nevertheless, being restrained to a small, seemingly impenetrable room did not seem to be a wise idea. She felt like a caged animal. Slade might not be able to get in (which remained to be seen), but she also couldn't escape if Robin locked it from the outside.
The three stepped around the circle, checking every crevice just in case.
Nothing jumped out at them, Robin seemed to be placated and at last he turned to Raven.
"Stay here," he ordered.
She bit her tongue, wanting to make a crack about his oblivious statement. Where else was she going to go? Did Robin really trust her that little?
However, she simply nodded, giving him a slight glare.
He mistook it for intensity and whisked around to join his robotic friend as they strode out of the room, the metal panels snapping behind them. Before they shut, Cyborg said over his shoulder:
"We'll let you know what happens."
A lock clicked into place, followed by a hundred other sounds of metal clashing on metal, cogs turning. How she hated that sound. Slade had been so fond of it. Sighing, she went to the middle of the space and sat down in a meditative pose. She began to chant, realizing she hadn't done this since she had returned.
It did not seem appropriate to do such things in times like these. But, now that she had nothing better to do, it was perfect. Clearing her mind, she began to levitate easily. Although out of practice, her powers still came loyally to her.
The extra weight didn't seem to hamper anything either.
Up into the black universe she went, confined to her own world, not even daring to move an inch into the inky surroundings. Stars glittered and sped away, cycling around her. Yet, none of them had her interested.
If she learned one thing, it was to never intrude on someone else's mind.
Nevertheless, she also felt a pang of guilt. Perhaps these other thoughts, these other people, had no pull on her not because of her new outlook on invading privacy, but because none of them had the draw of him.
This realization disgusted her, but if she was honest with herself, even before she knew it was Slade, his mind was the first one she had encountered that actually intrigued her.
It was beyond that. His copper-colored star had been irresistible to her.
Howling in pained rage, she dropped out of her trance, returning to familiar surroundings, breathing hard and shaking but still floating a foot above the ground.
Only the sound of her pant ringed in the room.
She never knew how much time passed in that state. Usually a Titan would alert her when something had to be done. If she had to guess, though, it might have been hours since Robin left.
There was no view of the outside world in this place, yet she felt the night begin to take over the day instinctively. Her anticipation was getting the better of her, however, and she landed back on the ground, standing, managing to keep her balance.
It all looked the same. She could hear nothing but the faint sound of electrical wiring. The fluorescent lights flickered occasionally, creating an unnerving aura.
"What could be taking them so long?" she pondered aloud, eyeing the door.
She heard no battle yell, even the alarm had ceased its crying. Yet, the chamber was still secure.
If her team had left the tower in search of him, perhaps thinking he went into the city, she knew they would never find him. Not until he dictated his return.
Frustration rose like bile in her throat. Was her life to be a constant threat of danger? Tinted by someone else's shadow? She groaned, and shuffled over to the steel-plated wall and sank down against it, feeling its cool touch on the back of her head.
Crossing her legs, she put her palm back on her stomach and rubbed it. Now and again the little thing would kick. It was a feisty one lately.
She wondered again about its future. God, she hadn't even really thought about the whole concept of giving birth.
"Ow," she muttered.
Being a hero, or whatever someone wanted to call it, had seemed like a perfect fit for her when she first left her home dimension. Now, it didn't seem remotely possible. Did she really want to pick up where she left off?
Adoption was possible, but there was a chance her child would have strange powers like her, and there were no Azarathian monks left to look after it.
Maybe there was some sort of superhero agency somewhere…
She loved saving the day, but it seemed as though the fun had been sucked out of it. Slade was wrong in thinking that every hero should pay a consequence for their choice, but he damn well made sure that she could never go back to it again.
Yet she still couldn't see herself at a day job, raising a kid, paying rent, driving a mini-van. Her entire life had been otherworldly, it would be a change. One that may prove to be too much for her.
She put her face in her hands and closed her eyes.
Suddenly, she heard a noise. She lifted her head, hoping it was Robin unlocking the door.
But it wasn't.
Laughter. A terrible, gut-wrenching laugh, one she knew so well she could practically imitate it.
"No…"she whimpered and placed both her arms in front of her protectively, a thousand thoughts blurring in her mind like an exploded hornet's nest.
Quickly, she yanked her hood over her face, trying to disguise her dread.
It still wouldn't matter, he knew her mannerisms too well anyway. Pessimism, doubt, and defeat sapped her strength. If he was here, then her friends would never get in to save her. Hell, she didn't know if they were even alive.
She wanted so badly to give up, now that it seemed impossible to escape him. Yet, she fought off the resignation with whatever resolve she still possessed. After all she had her powers back.
She could run, she could fly out of here.
Fly, fly, fly...her instincts wailed.
She remained paralyzed. Would she ever escape his claws? This may be the only opportunity to defeat him and take her life back.
The opposing argument also reminded her she was pregnant, and that even at her full strength, taking on Slade was still a challenge. Especially now that he had no limits.
There was also the whisper that reminded her that she had never wanted to kill him. That she had, in fact, saved him multiple times.
His laughter still rung chillingly all around her, echoing off the steel walls.
Maybe she could keep him here long enough for Robin to come...
She may not have the stomach to take his life, but she knew who did.
Fly, fight, trap? Too many options, too many risks.
Fight, and lose. Might hurt more than just herself.
Fly, and be stalked forever, never see her friends again.
Trap him for as long as possible and risk losing everything to caves and shadows.
"Might as well come out," she sighed sadly, lowering her head, trying to be as small as possible.
The chuckling quieted and then went silent. She still had no idea where it came from. The chamber was smaller than her own bedroom, it was lit well enough that she could see everything in front of her.
They had checked...We had checked! It's not possible! she screamed in her head.
This was supposed to be the most secure place in the world.
Then again, so was Slade's original holding cell.
While she mulled these impossibilities over, she heard a whistle of air sing past her head.
Of course...she grumbled.
The vicinity was small, but the ceiling was high. It had to be to incorporate the viewing quarter. This was the first place he had gone. He knew where they would take her, and he waited, clinging like a spider to the roof.
Then she realized, the vents!
Robin thought he nailed the opening shut in Slade's cell.
Evidently not.
And they never even thought to look up...
If the mood had been lighter, she would have smacked herself in the forehead.
Opening her eyes slowly, she saw the horribly recognizable metal-swathed combat boots. Sharply, she peered upward.
It's him alright...
His clothes were tattered, betraying his incarceration time, with several holes along the soldiers and knees. Ghostly white skin peeked out. Mask still intact, the tears humanized him slightly, but she tried to ignore that, not wanting to see him as anything other than a shadowy monster. She had to remain strong, not let him poison her feelings again.
The two had not seen each other since his take-down almost a month and a half ago. Robin allowed no one but himself to check on the sociopath, and of course Raven told herself she never wanted to gaze upon his form again.
Although his face was covered, she knew him well enough that a sickening smirk lurked behind. It was practically a neon sign, how delighted he was.
No one got out. No one knew where he was. This probably meant that Robin had indeed gone into the city and was breaking down the apartment doors of old ladies.
The two held one another's gaze, one reeked of hopelessness, the other of triumph. A sarcastic, soul-crushing quip was certainly on its way, and she braced herself.
Instead, however, he surprisingly knelt to her level. Again, she remained stock-still, both arms wrapped tightly around her womb. Carefully, surgeon-like, Slade reached out and pinched one of her slender wrists and peeled it away.
He guided it down to her side, and then repeated the action with the other arm. Nerves electrified, she hardly breathed.
He retracted his gloved hands, which were ripped in several places, but remained stooped down, balancing expertly on his feet. Again, he only peered at her eyes, his sparkled of something different trying to fissure up.
Minutes passed as slowly as eternities.
Finally, he shuffled closer, not breaking eye contact. Wrapped in his trance, she sucked in a tight breath, but did not raise her arms.
When he was inches from her, he swiftly pulled her cloak off like a magic trick. Raven flinched, but like a rabbit, she froze. Instead of tossing it aside, like what she expected him to do, he gave her a curious look and placed it around his shoulders.
Then, it was his turn to uncover himself.
Just as methodically, he raised his long, chilled fingers to the side of his mask. A click sounded, and part of his face was almost viewable. She heard a deep inhale, and the thing was whisked off, open for all to see.
She gasped, and instinctively leaned forward. His one eye was closed. Its brother was scarred and deformed, but it did not take away from his looks.
Even she did not expect it.
He always sounded older...she thought.
The two had been intimate, but he had his face hidden in a precise shadow. Plus she had been so weak, semi-conscious...
He must have planned it that way...
Now she really saw him.
He was older than her.
...but not by much.
In fact, it was difficult to tell, he had a timeless quality about him. She put that up to the secret that laid in his blood-his quick healing abilities which must have kept his appearance youthful.
Black, tousled hair, thick but neat dark eyebrows, skin far more pale than her own that she considered if the effects of dying still lingered. Maybe that was the cause of it, maybe he had achieved eternal youth when he took his flesh back from her father...So many questions flew around in her head.
Nevertheless, his features were sharp with not even a speck of stubble on his cheeks. A well-defined chin that if his hair hadn't been so wild she might have mistaken him for a skeleton his face was so severe.
It fits him, she mused with a bitter smirk.
And it really did, she didn't know why, but although the reveal had shocked her, the feeling did not linger. It was replaced by amazement, but then trickled to understanding. Of course he would look like this.
Then his eye snapped open and it completed him. This was the gem of his person. Without the shadow of the mask it was an even more pale, icy blue. It was an endless tundra, the clear just before a blizzard in the arctic. It was foolish, but she half-way expected a flash of the Northern Lights to appear, his eye was practically translucent.
Her fingers twitched, wanting to grasp the sides of his head and peer into his wintry eye, but she restrained, knowing he would certainly pull away.
Yet the purpose of his showing was not for her enjoyment but for his. In a flash, he wrapped her cloak around himself, and snatched the hood up, hiding his face once more. It was odd to see him in the violet cloak, and she would have laughed if her throat hadn't been scrunched. Confused, she wondered what he was up to.
Without a word, he leaned his head down and pressed his ear to her stomach, his cold hands placed tenderly on each of her sides.
Raven's heartbeat pounded like a stampede, every inch of her body began to electrify. At this intense reaction, the baby did just as it Slade wanted and gave a great kick in response.
"Mmm…" Slade hummed.
Raven could feel his eye move back and forth rapidly. His fingers squirmed in spite of him as he tried to sense his child, soaking up every detail he could.
Although she hated to admit it, the scene was incredibly touching to her. Seeing his face, his human face, and now he acted like a concerned, interested father. Her lip trembled. It was too much. Who was this man?
She had thought she had him pinned. He could never be labeled as easily as others, but there was no question what team he played for. Yet, having him here, listening to his...her?...their?...child, made her wonder if this whole thing was just a twisted way of him trying to redeem himself, vicariously starting anew.
Isn't that what they both wanted? To start a new life?
Before it even emerged as a thought, she tried to shoot it down.
Trap! Her mind shouted at her. This is just an act, don't fall for it.
Why was it so difficult to keep tabs on this guy? She calculated all the times he had hurt, taunted, and outright tried to kill her.
It was a long list, too long, and she still let him get to her like this! Maybe it wasn't him at all, maybe it was her.
Finally, resigned, he pulled away. Raven's brow was furrowed into an intense glare, trying to sort out her thoughts. He always found a way to complicate her resolve.
Sitting back on his heels, he studied her obviously confused face.
"What are you?" she hissed out finally.
Her cloak still hung around him, only his Spartan, bone-hued jaw jutted out from under it. The deep purple of the hood went well with his pallid complexion, she decided. It did not mean that he could keep it.
At her clearly unsettled expression, he gave a chuckle, grinning.
"God!" she exclaimed, nonplused, throwing her arms in the air.
Pearly white, perfectly straight, glimmering like stars his teeth were.
His smile broadened as her mouth gaped in disbelief.
Although his appearance did nothing to justify his behavior, it still managed to baffle her, how unexpected it was. In fact, it seemed to be the exact opposite of what he should look like. Men like him had vacant, crazed stares, lost in their decrepit insanity.
Instead, his eye was almost annoyingly clear. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew what the consequences could be, and did them anyway—a genius tactician.
"I suppose you want your uniform back?" he eventually asked, a smirk still playing on his lips.
She scoffed, but he wasted no time in ripping the cowl off and holding it out, his beautifully terrifying face out in the open again. Squeamishly, she reached out and seized it, cradling it to her chest.
He rolled his eye, making him seem even more down to earth, but he made no move to put his mask back on.
"You have questions," he stated, not bothering to phrase it as an inquiry.
Hypnotized by the play of his mouth, by the fact that it actually did so normally, she couldn't help dissecting his every movement. The mask had been there so long, had been so attached to his personality that she assumed she would never see the man behind it, she couldn't imagine him without it.
But here he was, basking in the light like he had never even donned the copper and black helmet.
She started with the superficial.
"How old are you?" she blurted out.
The corners of his mouth turned down in contemplation, but he did not laugh her off; however, after a few moments of consideration, he shook his head, his mischievously disheveled onyx hair ruffling.
"I can't tell you all my secrets, pretty bird," he said, crossing his arms.
Raven bit her lip, toying with an idea, but not daring to act on it. Slade immediately recognized her countenance.
"If any other questions have to do with how I got this," he motioned to his disfigured, permanently closed left eye. "Save your breath."
Still her intent remained hidden, and she clenched her fists, trying to control herself. Her nails dug into her palm, stinging.
He sighed, looking the other way, clearly uncomfortable with her staring. Pushing his weight forward, he made a move to stand; however, before he could accomplish this, Raven stretched out gingerly.
This time it was Slade's turn to freeze.
Just like him, she slowly and carefully extended her hands toward his face. Inching forward, she managed to roll onto her knees, almost in a crawling stance, her weight leaning into him as she placed fingers on the sides of his head.
It was new, she had never done anything like it before, but his enigma was just like his star: tantalizing. She had to make sure it was real, had to try and uncover the secret of him.
The coldness of his skin was no illusion, even away from the drafty caves, it remained painfully frigid—giving her goosebumps and shivers. He watched her studiously, noting her every twitch. It was a first for him as well. Letting himself be so vulnerable inspired a new feeling that he was not sure he wanted to embrace.
Nonetheless, the warmth of her fingers as they traced his chin and nose was bliss. Although she would never know just how it made him feel.
She continued from his lower lip up to his eyebrow, feeling along the bones. She gently pivoted his head, peering intently at his perfectly normal ears. Then she grasped a strand of raven hair, pinching it between her index and thumb. It was delicate but soft, like he hadn't spent a month in a lockup.
Finally, she gave him one more look-over, confirming his humanity. She let go and pushed herself back. It was too fast, and she prepared for a hard landing back into the wall, face screwed up.
Instead she stopped suddenly. Opening her eyes again she realized that he had wrapped an arm around her back, catching her. Deliberately, he lowered her back down to the ground.
"Thanks," she grumbled, trying not to reveal her gratitude that her tailbone remained unbruised.
With a flash of teeth, he uncurled himself and stood swiftly up, looking around.
"While I would love to waste more time here," he announced sardonically, snatching his worn mask off the ground and clasping it on. "I think it's time to leave, don't you?"
Raven made no attempt in getting up. Instead she put her head against the wall, twisting her mouth at him.
"This isn't going to end is it?" she supposed, letting out a heavy exhale.
It took everything he had not to bark a comment at her, frighten her into submission like with all his previous attempts. It was clear that newer methods might work better. At this point, he wasn't sure which one he enjoyed more.
"Raven," he purred. "You know I can't leave. Not without you and him."
Flight, fight, bait, she wasn't sure if these were the only options anymore. There was an entirely different side to this creature.
Don't forget…her conscious crooned. Remember what he did.
"Slade," she finally exclaimed. "How can you possibly expect me to willing come with you? I may be losing it, but I'm not that far gone."
In another place and time, he would have backhanded her to the floor.
"As I said," he continued. "I am not going anywhere without my son."
Involuntarily, she gave a sour chuckle.
"How do you know it's a boy?"
"Trust me," he stated confidently, putting hands behind back. "I know."
"Doesn't change the fact that I am not leaving this room," she snapped back, rolling her head. "I mean, how do you expect me to get to the vent? I'm not exactly as flexible as I used to be…"
Sighing, he shook his head.
"You think so little of me as that? That I would drag a pregnant woman through a ventilation system?" he mocked. "Why Raven, I'm hurt."
The glitter of his face was grower dimmer now that his attitude was back.
"Whatever, still not happening," she shrugged.
"Oh how I missed you…"he muttered.
She closed her eyes and waited.
Yet, no retort came, just the whooshing of air again. Lifting a lid, she wondered what he had done now.
Gone again.
However, within seconds a new sound entered the scene—that of churning cogs and clanking iron. She raised a brow in disbelief.
"No way…"
The panels creaked for a moment and then opened smoothly.
"Shall we?"