Chapter 9

Her mother had died when she young, she chose her new father and was ripped away from him sent to Tony by right of law. Raven was full of stories which were beginning to explain why she was intriguing, why she was unlike the rest, why he should keep her. She knew sorrow and lost, pain and anger. Emotions he was quite intimate with. The more he spent time with her Loki realized how eccentric she was, beyond the oddity of her intelligence. The girl had secrets she guarded from him, habits she kept from him and her mannerisms were strange.

He didn't realize how so until he woke up in the middle of the night by himself. There was faint light under the door. What was she doing up at this hour? It couldn't be work related, there was no hum of her cello outside her door. Sure enough when he opened the door he saw Raven at work at her modest desk with her keyboard to her right, composing. He never saw her compose her own work, which was what this clearly could be. Whenever she briefly rehearsed her pieces for work she wore those childish round framed glasses. She rarely used them unless she was reading heavily or composing, depending on the lighting of the theatre or opera she may wear them to work.

"What are you doing up this late?"

Raven twitched, how was Henry so light on his feet? She turned around to face him, he had spent the night again and somewhere in the early hours of the morning Raven had a spark of inspiration along with insomnia. She hadn't had any bouts of insomnia for months but it came back in a fury tonight. She had slithered out of bed retreating to her modest desk in the living room and began to compose using her keyboard, her huge sound blocking headphones half on her ears. She had to be quiet, and each scratch of her pencil was like kicking a block of hay across the floor.

"I, uhhh," she glanced at her notes.

"Why didn't you tell me you had work to do?" Henry spied at her work, nude as a Greek statue.

She groaned pulling her glasses off her face, she only wore them when she was working. "I don't have to – I mean, this isn't..." Fatigue was kicking in, but she knew that sleep was not going to come. If it did she'd have a violent nightmare.

"Raven?" He brushed his fingers through her side bangs. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," she muttered putting her glasses on. "I just forgot that's all." She turned her back on him hoping he'd go back to bed but he slipped his hands over her shoulders.

"Tell me, Raven." He kneaded the taut skin. "You're tense."

She knew what this looked like. She had gone through it many times, with Brogan, Nate and boyfriends. When they saw her dark circles, her body shot eyes and her squinted gaze. He'll think your crazy. It will cause problems, sabotage the relationship. No matter what she said it'd end up the same. She told him the truth, though he hadn't taken her seriously in the first place.

"I don't sleep sometimes," she let him massage her crimes from her lips. "I get insomnia every now and again. I've had it since I was a teenager but it's been getting worse over the years."

"Insomnia?"

"Hmm, I can go four days without sleep and still manage to function normally. I have medication but, it blocks me. I can't compose or write a single song, and working... it's almost pointless, but I sleep like a baby. It's not a constant thing, thank God, it just happens every few weeks or months." She pinched her nose, "Though it's shit when I don't take my medication."

"What happens?" Was his silvery whisper.

"I get nightmares," she carelessly confessed. "I'd ask for another type of medication but my doctor says it might make me suicidal. Since I have to take my heart medication without fail, there are only so many pills that can work with them. But there's always a side effect, none in which I can deal with or my doctor won't recommend for me to put up with. So I'm doomed." She pulled away from his hold and smiled weakly at him, "But don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"Can't you simply tire yourself out?"

"You can screw me stupid, I'd just wake up half an hour later. One time I tried drinking myself to sleep," she smirked at the memory. "I know, horrible idea but it had been two whole days and I losing my mind. Sure enough after I passed out I wake up on my back an hour later." She caught herself. "I shouldn't be talking about this."

"Why?" He deadpanned.

"You'll start to think I'm a looney," she gave a mirthless laugh. "You don't need to know about this."

"Is there anything I can do?" He bent his knees so they were eye to eye.

Vampiric jewels, drenched in a lightning storm. Oh that sounded nice, she had to write that down. Raven gave him a light kiss. "Just go back to bed."

"Come with me," he breathed against her lips. "I'll rub your shoulders for you until you fall asleep."

She wanted to say no, it was a pointless gesture but he wanted to help. She could just slip back out after he dozed off. She nodded writing down the little description his eyes inspired before she followed him to bed. He had such nice hands 80% smooth and 20% callous, nimble and precise he treated her like a sculptor would his clay. They teetered between hot and cold like the world's best heating pad turning her aching body to soup.

She had no idea she slipped into sleep until the nightmare began.

She was in the tub where Harris had drowned her, four years old in her little nightie, water up to her waist and rising. He was staring at her in the drunken stupor that brought his darkest sentiment toward her to surface, the filthy thing he thought was his. The years had restored the memory of this night to near perfect clarity. He had been her Papa, she had loved him blindly and her parentage flicked the switch effortlessly on his part.

She knew how this was going to end but the shock was fresh every time. He gripped her by her throat after he dragged his heavy hand along her face, trying to wipe the fragments of Tony Stark from her face. It didn't work so he shoved her under water. Her head banged the bottom of the tub and the pressure was imploding, she fought tiny fingers digging into his leather skin. She tried to get to the surface, twist out his arms but he held fast pushing her nose down as if breaking it would speed up the process. She screamed for him and water flooded in her lungs, she was dying but death would never come.

Now it'd get worse.

"Harris! Stop it!"

A life line reached for her, her mother. Half in Harris' arms, her arms frantically trying to pull her out and beat the water from her lungs. Face contorted in grief and horror, wrung in a mournful cry as Harris yanked them apart.

"No! No! No! Raven!" She shrieked. "No! Raven! Let me save her! Please! Let me save her! Harris let me save her! Why are you doing this?" Tears streaked down her face as he took her away.

The last thing she did was wail as Harris beat her to death, like a mad man. The last thing Raven saw was the blood creeped under the door. Her mother's blood.

"I don't care!" Came Harris' voice, a demon. "I hope she dies! I hope she dies! You fucking whore! I don't care!"

Raven shot up howling. Hands were reaching for her and she swung madly, blind hits and dull scratches. Not sure if she was with a friend or a foe. Something grabbed her and she swiped back tumbling off the bed. The bang of her head snapped her out of it. It was just a dream, just a dream. Her chest heaved her heart trying to adjust to the plummet to reality, her body wanting to retch what wasn't there to throw up. She was drowning on land rasping for the air she couldn't register.

Nineteen years and the wound festered on her mind, nineteen years and they all were right. You're just a mad little girl, too broken for anything, anyone. Not sure where she was Raven let out and high pitched roar into the floor wanting so much to rip the memory and her entire complex down to the foundation.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. I don't want to remember her that way, I don't want to remember her that way. She wept holding her head rocking in her faced down fetal position head banging on the floor. Make it go away. Make it go away. Make it go away. She kept seeing the blood. Hearing the screams. The blood. The screams. The blood. The screams. Make it go away. Make it go away. Let me die and take it away. Let me die and take it away.

She had been fourteen when she had this nightmare for the first time. She had pedaled to a bridge and was planning to jump. No one knew she was gone. No one came for her. She could have jumped that would have been the end of it. She wanted more than anything to let it end. She was on the bridge, hands holding the rails, leaning forward, looking down. If the fall didn't kill her, her thin clothes and the cold would have finished her off. She had been a miserable thing on that bridge, torn between the unimaginable pain her mother had died for her and the life she saved was better off dead. Thinking her mother deserved a second chance, with a better man. Knowing her mother was all but forgotten, like a false memory, by the man who's daughter she died for. She was only fourteen, her life hadn't even began but she wanted to die. Her mother made her climb back over, the fact she died for her, wanted her to live in her place. She died for my life, and I will not waste it. I will not spit on what she gave me. A second chance to find somewhere better.

She had been acting on an impulse as the flickers of the dreams kept coming back. My mum died for me. My mum died for me. Because of me. It was my fault. It was my fault. All my fault. Raven had to leave the house. She had to make it stop but even back then she was too weak to let it all end and have peace. Looking back, maybe her mother might have understood why she would have no hope in her life. It certainly hadn't gotten much better. No one knew her pain, and they were incapable of grasping her grief.

"Raven!" Came a frantic voice. "Raven! Raven! Raven!"

The touch burned her skin. It pricked the on edge nerves reminding her too much of Harris' faux tenderness before he took her under.

Brogan came into the room, she saw Henry trying to restrain Raven who was caught in a nightmare. She rolled and flailing her arms, screaming and kicking. This used to terrify her, the way she yelled, like a little girl caught in a snare, the agony of her jerky movements. She had gone through this a few things and knew what to do. She tried to reach them, as Raven, in blind defense, crashed onto the floor trying to get away from Henry's hands. They watched as she screamed, banging her head into the floor, trying to beat the images out her skull to no avail.

She had been tossing like a cornered animal than a frightened child. Brogan held her steady using both hands hoping the pressure would rouse her. Warding Henry back she hovered over Raven, who roared into the floor, her panic attack far from over. There was no point speaking to her or consoling her. All they could do was wait until she came out of it on her own. It was like a demon possession, the way the nightmares took over reason in Raven's psyche. The shakes, the nausea, the screaming, the tears. The first time Brogan went through it she cried. She cried feeling Raven's pain, feeling pity for Raven and lastly because, through all that torture Raven didn't want to be held. It hinted to something even sadder, that Raven couldn't stand being touched, it was that traumatizing.

"Not again," she groaned reality setting in. "Brogan I... Did I..."

"Breathe Raven," Brogan instructed, careful not to touch her, now she was lucid. "Raven, breathe. Deep breath, steady yourself, and remember where you are. Remember."

She wanted to save some face, not crumble to pieces but it was already in motion. She was shaking, the room was spinning and she couldn't breathe, but she had to stay calm and let the storm take her away. Fighting it made it worse.

"Raven?" Brogan called.

"I... I... I'm sorry, about that." Her chest was tight and her throat desert dry. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep. I shouldn't -" Henry reached out to her and before Brogan could stop him, like a wounded tiger she snapped. "Don't!" He took a step back. "Don't come near me."

She felt Harris' hands on her. Taking her upstairs, dressing her for bed, cradling her before he set her down in the lukewarm tub. His hand was on her face trying to find Tony Stark on her skin, the brand forged in genetics that made so much of a difference to him. His rough working man's hands as he held her under water, forced her head down to the tub bottom, squeezing her throat to drain her resistance. His arms were in her palms and between her fingers, fighting to pry him off, begging to be let go, pleading. Her mother's hands were on her back beating the water on her lungs, on her wrists as she pulled her out the tub. The tub rim was pressed on her ribs, the position her mother left her in as Harris took her away to be murdered, like a sheet on the line. Her ears were drumming with her mother's last cries of life and Harris' hatred.

Sensory overload. If Henry touched her, it'd tip the balance.

She wobbled to her feet once more, "I'm fine..." She staggered to the bathroom. "Just... Go back to bed," she shooed him locking the door behind her. "And leave me alone."

Henry turned to Brogan, "What the hell was that?" Clover had woken up from the noise, trotting to the bathroom door whining as she scratched on the door.

Brogan sighed, "She had night terrors, because of her mother's death. It traumatized her for life and every few months she gets night terrors. She'll scream for half an hour, if it's really bad... That's also why she can't sleep sometimes, she gets scared she might have a bad dream. Come here Clover. Come here girl." The dog remained by the door, loyal to her real owner.

"And she reacts like this?" He was pissed off. Frustrated and sleepy. Blindsided by something he thought Raven had been exaggerating about. He had every right to be upset.

"Yeah. She doesn't like people to see her like that. She hates it when people think she's weak... All you can do is go back to bed. Sitting outside that bathroom isn't going to do a damn thing. Believe I've tried it." Brogan shook her head at Clover who stared at the door waiting to be let in. Or prepared to stand guard, neither of them could tell.

The bathroom was a sucker punch to reality. Polar opposite to the scene of the crime but the props were identical in position. The chill of the tiles were nine inch nails in her heels. She shuddered and let herself slide to the floor tucking her knees to her chest. She lost a boyfriend because of this, and she was going to lose another one. She closed her eyes and prepared herself to face an empty apartment when the morning came.

If you can't get better Raven learn to cope her last therapist told her, the one Marshall gave her after she tried to killed herself. The second time. The only decent therapist she had, she took one look at her and knew, you aren't broken Raven you just have deep scars, scars that anyone can see but wish they couldn't. You are fully capable of anything once you learn to cope with this.

Sleep was like time through a vacuum. The second Raven went slack it was morning. She pulled herself up staring at her reflection. It was painted on her face, fatigue, resignation, sadness, brokenness in one single motif.

"Jesus Christ," she rubbed her eyes. She rinsed her face with water, the cold was better than coffee.

She opened the door taking a deep breath at the empty bed, of course he's gone you told him to leave didn't you. She went into her kitchen freezing when she saw Henry in her kitchen making tea, Clover on the couch, the newspaper waiting for her on the table. This was not supposed to happen. Raven stood there staring still holding the towel she had slept on, frightened if she moved he'd fade like a ghost leaving her all alone like Tony's therapist predicted. Henry beckoned her to sit as he set the tea down. She wanted to drink her tea but her hands shook as they hovered over the cup.

He drank his as she held onto the towel like a security blanket. The fibers pricked her skin but it kept her grounded, a sack of flour for a helium ballon.

"Brogan explained to me what happened last night." His tone was clinical, unnerving. She looked away, feeling though she was under examination. Not satisfied with her reaction he nudged her into speaking. "And this happens often?"

"Yes. It does," she tried to grab her tea which rocked erratically in her hands. "There's not much I can do about. I've been to specialists," she added before he could ask, "I've tried medication and nothing works. So I've just gotten used to it."

"What was your nightmare about -"

"Don't." her gut twisted. "I care about you but we are not at the point where I'd share that with you. Don't ever ask me about it again."

He hadn't expected her to flat out tell him no. He had this disbelieving glare that left Raven unfazed.

"We're not at that point?" He said, half-mocking from spite.

"Just because I let you into my bed and let you have my body," she sneered, "does not mean you get my mind as a bonus. I'll tell you about my family, that's nothing, the whole world can google my family. This is something only a handful of people, whom I can count on my hand, who know about this and no one has the whole story."

"So you rather suffer alone than -"

"Don't you fucking psychoanalyze me!" She bellowed. "Do you know why I acted like that? No! Do you know why I wouldn't let you touch me? No! Everyone wants to help me, to fix me, to make me better! I'm not some motherfucking project you shine up and make brand new. You either have to take me as I am or you can get the fuck out of my life 'cause I don't need another man in life wanting to be my salvation! You only know what I tell you or what you can google, never think for one second that makes you qualified to take on my problems."

He took a deep breath. "Raven, calm down," he reached out and she flinched making him retreat. "You can't expect me to see you in that state and just ignore it?"

"It's not your problem!" She fought back stubborn tears. "It's my problem and I don't want to make it your problem!"

"Whom said it'll be a problem?"

His good intentions made her more upset, he had no idea what was wrong with her. He was like everyone else, a quick fix and let it be.

She gestured to him. "That! What you just said, this not something you can fix!"

He paused to think. He encouraged her to drink her tea but she refused. "Then what do you do after a night like that?"

"I work," she sniffled. "And I watch some movies to cheer myself up."

"Working? Working helps?"

"It puts my mind off of things. But I don't have any work until later and I'm too upset to think."

"A movie then," he decided.

"It's going to be disgustingly romantic and silly," she warned.

"I'll bear it," he swore.

Raven tortured Henry with Arsenic and Old Lace a screwball dark comedy staring Cary Grant, the best medicine for a horrid night. He wasn't one for comedies, he was more of a film noir guy and dry comedies. He loathed the Marx Brothers, grimaced at the Three Stooges and yawned at Chaplin. All her remedies for nights like this. When you had to watch something so stupidly funny you laughed the tears away. She knew he'd hate it and his silent boil was not unappreciated, Raven slowly went to him settling her head on his leg, the only contact she could stomach. Clover ignored her preference, burrowing against her chest, licking her chin occasionally. The plot twist didn't ease his disdain and began stroking her hair in his own thoughts faintly keeping track, it was soothing making her body limp almost like she was floating away. She had a strange sprout of drowsiness during the last act, just as Cary Grant ran off into the sunset with his bride, Raven slipped into a dreamless sleep.

That's how Brogan found them.

"I didn't expect you to still be here," she yawned.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Loki tried to keep his tone polite.

"Most blokes can't handle a girl with problems." She retreated into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. "It's the reason she's so pessimistic, she doesn't think anyone can love her. Not completely anyways."

Loki looked down at Raven, "I don't think so. Maybe she just needs the right man."

Brogan smiled to herself, "Funny, I think so too."

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, work has been hell and social life purgatory. Anyways review, review, review (seriously tho, review, I'm desperate lol) critique is welcomed, along with queries and theories.

As always, Anotherscribe.