With a grunt, she landed on the prickly grass. Flying not in any particular direction, she went for miles, probably crossing state lines. It felt as if she voyaged across an ocean. Slade popped out and dropped right next to her, gasping for breath. The experience of being completely cocooned in an endless night was not an easy one.

But he was alive, so complaining would have to wait. They both lay there, feeling the sway of vegetation caress their bruised skin, free in the open air. Many unsaid things awaited them, many questions and decisions. Raven prayed she would make the correct ones.

It felt as if she had already chosen badly.

How could she leave, just like that?

Maybe a better question was, how did it come to this?

Only a few months ago, it had been routine, things were stable. She knew who had disrupted the tranquility, but she wondered if it would have been broken anyway by another unfortunate quandary. Maybe instead of her, it would have been Beast Boy, or Cyborg. A villain infiltrating their lives, poisoning them against their family.

It had seemed that the role of the traitor was reserved for her, but after seeing Robin's darkness, after realizing that he had never let on just how miserable he was, things did not seem so concrete. The truth was, everyone struggled with a dark side, with some evil lurking in the back of their mind, waiting for the moment to strike.

Was that her now? Was she still Raven anymore?

Mindlessly rubbing her stomach as she laid on her back, she gazed upon the stars (for it had taken the whole day to travel).

Perhaps she could transcend roles, could rise above the labels of 'hero' and 'villain'. She did not have to be either any longer. Did this mean looser morals, or embracing her red cloak? No, but it did mean she would follow her instincts, regardless of someone else's rules.

Furrowing her brow, she felt the weight of the universe loosen its grip. Since the bleak days of the caves she had been walking on the edge, using all her might to keep her good and evil separated. But now, she did not have to do that, she could let them intermingle and realize that each part made her what she was.

Sighing contently, each second released another weight holding her down. The situation wasn't any less screwed up, but it was more manageable than it had been when she was still trying to play hero.

Sitting up and enjoying the ignorant bliss of an epiphany, she turned her attention to the man laying just as contently next to her.

The fireflies were coming out as the clouds of night swirled with an undulating breeze, the scents of the forest engulfing every sense. Night critters unseen scampered busily around the pair, paying them no mind. It seemed as time was halted in this place.

The worries of the world could not reach them here.

Knowing it could not last, she peered sheepishly at the mangled face of Slade. The blood had dried, leaving trails of pale burgundy, stretching up into his obsidian hair, coloring a few strands lighter.

Nevertheless, his only good eye was gone, there was nothing she could do. It was one of the only body parts who intricacies escaped her expertise. There were too many things to go wrong, and she did not know the extent of the damage, she might just make it worse. It wasn't a broken bone, it was a vast network, a snowflake, a fingerprint, vulnerable and complicated.

She sighed again, not knowing what to say. Perhaps there was nothing to speak of, no condolence. Yet he did not seem very affected by his newfound symmetry. She wondered if he was simply enjoying the fleeting moment, pushing the worries of today to tomorrow.

But she could not do nothing, so she stood quietly, not wanting to alert him. Of course she was not very good at subtlety, not in her condition at least, but he humored her and did not react. Where there were trees, there was water, and she waddled off in search of a source.

It was not too far. A tinkling stream, with just enough for her purposes, shimmered in the starlight. Ripping a piece of her already tattered cloak she submerged it until it was soaked through. Then she headed back.

Liking the feel of pure mud between her bare toes, she took her time, making sure she would not get lost. She found him just as he was, laying peacefully in the grass.

Worrying that the water would cause infection, she made sure only to clean around the major wound, just tidying up the aesthetics of his face. As she scrubbed out the cracked and stiffened blood, she heard a deep grumble resonate from his throat.

She ignored it and continue to wash the crimson out of his hair and chin. His face was covered in bruises, but there seemed to only be one deep wound with just a few scratches surrounding it. The gash went perfectly through his eye, crossing from the top of his cheekbone to the middle of his brow.

She didn't realize just how angry she was when Slade's hand snatched hers. Stopping, she gave him a look of surprise, one he didn't see.

"Ouch."

His voice sounded better, it reached its toiling tenor, and at least he had his gumption back, but he still looked weak and exhausted.

"Sorry," she mumbled, slipping her wrist out of his loose hold.

But she did not continue her treatment, she only waited. His face was now relatively clean, but the slashes were thrown into relief against his pallid features.

Finally, he managed to groan his way to a sitting position. A trickle of wind brushed away the tendrils invading his forehead.

"So," she began in a poignant tone.

"So," he imitated, a ghost of a grin flickering on his lips.

Of course, she started with the obvious, it was easier than the messier things.

"Can you see at all?"

At this, he tried to force the mangled lid to flutter open. It did obey but it looked as if it hurt quite a bit in doing so. Closing the distance, she studied the damage.

A clear, eggshell stripe split his pale eye in two. It was holding on by, literally, a thread.

"Oh boy," she commented involuntarily.

With a rough laugh he nodded, and winked the eye shut.

"Should we..." she began again. "Should we just, you know, take it out...or something? How much pain are you in?"

Startled by her flustering, he cleared his throat.

"Not sure," he replied. "Perhaps it will heal. Perhaps not. Only time will tell. My blood has done stranger things."

Another clue to his past, but she did not press it.

"In answer to your other question," he continued, his tone growing stronger. "The pain is...uncomfortable, but not the worst I've had."

Humming a response, she tried to find other topics to pass the time. Yet there were none. The elephant in the room was trumpeting a siren call.

"What now?" she whispered, staring at her petite, calloused hands.

The way she said made it clear that she was not simply talking about his eye.

Although it was awkward for her, it was easy for him. Strategy and planning were strengths of his.

"There are a few options," he said, looking toward her but unable to find her. "The first and perhaps most whimsical is: We find somewhere to live, have the child, and get a mini-van."

He was right, that was pure fantasy. She waited quietly for the second option, he hoped that she would stop him and agree to the first.

"Second," he continued undeterred. "We still find somewhere to live, have the child, and go our separate ways. Of course, the decision of parenting will have to be revisited."

Although more realistic, it seemed like something far away, like a faint light at the end of a infinite tunnel.

Again, she held her peace.

"Third, and lastly," he said, resigned. "You take us to the nearest city, drop me off at a hospital, and keep flying. Whether you raise, destroy, or give up the child will be your choice."

Stunned for the moment, she inhaled sharply. Could she raise this boy alone? Adoption was always an option, and it took care of Slade, she wouldn't have to oversee him. The more she considered, the more it became likely that door number three was the best.

Yet, she could not leave it at that.

"What about you?" she asked with a hint of suspicion. "What will you do?"

With keen ears he caught her sprinkle of distrust and smirked without humor.

"What I have always done," he replied cryptically, and it was clear that he was not going to say any more on the matter.

Although disappointed, she did feel slightly relieved and exhaled loudly. It was better than a pretentious suicide. As if reading her mind, he gave a shaky chortle.

"No, Raven, I will not take my life. It seems to bring out the worst in you."

Rolling her eyes, she was nonetheless content that he retained his wit.

Another wave a silence echoed around them, only the chirps of the grasshoppers toiled.

"Before we go," Slade finally said, trying to keep his vibrating emotions calm. "Can I ask you something?"

Instantly on the defensive, she crossed her arms protectively, and began chewing her cheek.

"What do you want to know?"

"Well, I lied, it's actually somethings," he joked, grinning impishly.

Shaking her head, she smiled in spite of herself, and looked up at the sky.

"Fine," she retorted, eyes still on the stars.

Shifting his weight, he scooted so that he was completely facing her, or at least in her general direction. The dirt protested at his disturbance, the blades of grass ripping out of their sockets.

"First, why did you save me?"

Although more monster than man, he was sure, he saw things clearly. He knew exactly what he did, how much pain it caused, did it anyway, and never expected her to forgive or even look at him again. Yet, she did. Chuck it up to a depraved fantasy, a delusion, but he got the feeling she was in her right mind...or at least she was now.

In the caves he had known she had lost a chunk of her sanity, it was the only explanation and he welcomed it; however, now that she had purged herself from his grip, things became illogical. Her actions made not a lick of sense, even if he desperately wished they did.

It was obvious she was trying to think of good answer, one to put away all worries, but she was taking a long time to do it. He wondered if she was just as confused as him.

"Let me make something clear first," she started, closing her eyes. "If you mistake this for some sort of mystical sign of love, you're wrong. I don't know what you think that is, but it is not this."

She waved a hand toward him as she said this, he felt the gust of the motion bounce off his chest.

"But," she practically whispered. "That doesn't mean I don't care about what happens to you. You're not a good person, Slade, you might never be, but seeing how you refused to fight, that you practically gave up your sight just so that you wouldn't hurt Robin, or whatever that was for, did show me that you are not hopeless. And I couldn't just leave you to die, cause that's what would have happened."

Nodding, he still did not know why he didn't squash the brat, but the luster that that once held for him had faded. There were more important things now than simply embarrassing children... Like raising children, for example.

"My next question is," he said, not mincing words. "Can I at least be there for the birth of my son?"

This caught her off guard. Did he deserve as much or should she just go into hiding? Giving an affirmative did not seem wise, he may use that to his advantage. She wasn't sure she could trust him, he could steal the boy away when she wasn't looking.

Yet, it didn't seem fair of her to exclude him, after all he was giving her a damn good choice, one she hadn't dared to hope for. Why would he tarnish it now?

It was her turn to be mysterious.

"If you can find the hospital."

Of course, he gave a confident chuckle. Yet, the odds did not seem to favor him: A blind, injured man searching for a needle in a continental haystack.

Although his fervent wish was for her and him to be together, he knew now it was an impossibility. He had carried out his atrocious deed, and even if he was changing, it had not been fast enough. As she said, this may not have been love, but he would rather know that she and their son were alive somewhere, living peacefully than running from the shadows of the past.

He had made a vow to never release her, but it seemed that if he truly wanted to portray his affection, it was the only solution. Besides, he had said nothing about not visiting her. He would watch (or hear) from the dark, observing from the outside like he always had. When she fell, he would be there, whether she liked it or not. As a father, it was his sworn duty.

Maybe someday she would invite him in.

Grimacing, it was extremely unlikely. He had already spent his luck.

The two had finally arrived at an impasse.

Heaving a tired sigh, she leaned back on her hands, digging her nails into the comforting soil. She rather liked it out here. No buzz of cars or neon signs, only plants, animals, and an invigorating sense of abundant life. Maybe she would live somewhere near the mountains, be a hermit in nature.

A faint smile, she rather enjoyed the picture. She could go completely off the grid, or maybe just have a few close acquaintances. Imagining herself in jeans and plaid, she saw a child with hair as black as a raven's wing running toward her as she stood at the door of a homey cabin. A trail of smoke leaking from the chimney, with redwood logs and quilted curtains. Incense burned from the inside, its sweet perfume mixed with the rustic aroma.

The bumbling, waddling boy, because it was of course a boy, leapt haphazardly into her arms, and she swung him around, their giggles echoing off the trunks, the rocks, the earth.

Yes, the decision was made. This was going to be her life.

"Option three, Slade."

Although he could not analyze or study her face, which made a pang of hurt ring inside him for he loved to see her countenance as she figured out a puzzle, he perceived that she had made the correct resolution.

One that he may never get the privilege to witness.

THE END

A/N: And that's that! Hope it wasn't rushed, but I don't like to tie things up too neatly, because it takes away from the mystery. I know that you would like to know exactly what happens, but I leave the rest of it to you. Use your imagination. Does Slade make it to the delivery? Does he get his sight back? Does Raven achieve this vision of a bright future? What do you think? Let me know!

Also, there's has been a unrelenting nag concerning chapters 16-25. I would really like to re-visit them. I believe I was too rash in divulging the plot and I would like to rework it. If I do, it may not be anything like it was, but I believe the cohesiveness will be well worth it. So please lend me your thoughts!