I4.6
Chapter 44: Gifts of Love
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Adult themes. DO NOT read if you are underage or dislike controversial things.
Author's Note: This story has not been abandoned! I am alive and kicking, but exhausted. At least I've finally finished all my classes and now I'm a graduate. Yay me! It's time for job hunting with my shiny new degree.
Precious.
It's not an adjective that he would have normally used to describe the stoic empath that's passed out in the back of the Titan's van. He's not surprised that she's hiding out here since it is high noon and the flaming ball in the sky is determined to bake everything under it. The sun's rays are strong and beating down on his broad shoulders as he rolls them to ease the aching muscles in his upper body. The sound of crashing waves at his back reminds him of just how strong the ocean's currents are. The cheerful squeals of children enjoying a day at the beach brings a genuine smile to Richard's face.
Today is a perfect surfing day if you are experienced. The waters are a bit too rough for novices, but he's confident that his other companions will take care of the civilians. Starfire is doing loops in the bright blue sky before periodically diving into the water only to sometimes resurface with a wiggling Beastboy in her arms. It's a strange game that they've developed every time they come to the beach. The changeling would transform into a swordfish or dolphin and Star would "fish" for him from above. Cyborg is working on his tan while staying far enough away from the water to not rust his parts. Even though Richard's back is turned to him, he can hear the hearty laughter of excited children trying to climb up the big man's strong back. He doesn't know where the older Titan finds the patience for children that young, but he's grateful. He's even more mindful to keep his distance from the more obvious members of his team since he is only wearing his Robin mask. It is one of the downsides to visiting a public beach during a busy day, but it's important that citizens of their city see their protectors in different lights.
There was a time when frenzied paparazzi would swarm the beach to get as many pictures of them as possible, but Rachel wasn't having it. Every time they attempted to come near, she would flick her pale finger and their equipment would "malfunction." They soon learned that any photography of the group would have to be done at great distances which means that many of their images were grainy and not very good. It was the civilians that they had to worry about. Now that everyone has a cellphone, it has become trickier to enjoy a low-key day outside of the Tower. More and more, Rachel has been opting to either stay home or hide out to get away from prying eyes. On one hand, Richard understands her aversion to having pictures taken without her consent but on the other, she was incredibly photogenic. Even though her aesthetic was clearly dark, she still manages to give off that girl next door kind of vibe. He always knew that she would grow into herself and here she was, laid out in the back of their van.
Violet locks were haphazardly splayed around her head like a dark halo. One arm was slung over her eyes to protect her vision from any bright sunlight that might sneak in through the tinted windows. The navy blue, sheer cover up barely concealed the dark swimsuit beneath. Richard could clearly see her soft, pale skin peeking through the intricate straps and loops of her two piece. He doesn't necessarily disapprove of her choice, but he wasn't a fan of it either. Too much of her flesh was exposed to perverse eyes. The curves of her hips and back, which are normally shielded by her cape, are on display in the most enticing way. He's sure more than one man on that beach is fantasizing about licking the salty ocean water off of her spine.
Richard licks his own lips in realization of just how dehydrated he is. He has spent many hours surfing the various waves that has come rolling in. His whole body is aching in a pleasant way that lets him know that he's going to be very sore tomorrow morning. He wedges his surfboard into the sand before reaching down to the water cooler perched near the entrance of the van. He digs through the ice on his quest to find water. All without taking his eyes off the sleeping beauty before him.
"Could you dig a little louder?" she groans. "It's not like I'm resting or anything."
Richard smiles at the perpetual sass. "The waves are really coming in today. Do you want to finally try surfing?"
"If you're asking if I would like to drown in open waters then the answer is no thank you." She doesn't have to remove her arm for him to know that she's giving him an are you dumb? look.
"I would never let you drown," he replies as he sips from his water bottle. "I have my lifeguard credentials. I'll just give you mouth to mouth and bring you back to life."
"Yea. I know the paparazzi would love to get pictures of that," she chuckles. "I can imagine the headlines. Boy Wonder locks lips with the team's Empath. What could this mean?"
"They do love blowing their stories out of portion," he adds.
"You mean selective editing?" she asks. It was no secret that the paparazzi, and by extension, the people do enjoy speculating about the true relationships that members have with one another. To the point where they have read into the simplest gestures of kindness and determined that they're all having sex with each other. Clearly team orgies happen every Sundays and Wednesdays. How else do you build comradery? Richard would laugh if he wasn't so repulsed by the notion of complete strangers thinking so hard about his teammates in such a violating way.
"It's whatever sells, you know," he replies before finishing off his bottle of water.
"Well," Rachel says as she peeks at him from the shadows, "you're definitely selling the fantasy."
She quickly glances away, but not before Richard notices how her eyes scan over his impressive frame. He supposes he paints a pretty attractive picture with his soaked swim trunks riding low on his hips and water droplets dripping across defined muscles. He playfully strikes an alluring pose with one hand combing through his wet hair and the other resting on his hip before asking with a smile, "What kind of fantasy am I selling?"
Rachel cups her chin in one delicate hand as she uses his question as an excuse to study him again. "Hmm...I'm torn. You're giving...off brand cologne commercial. You just need to slow run across the beach. Give the crowd a show."
"Are you trying to break the internet?" he asks in mock disbelief.
"Eh," she states with a slight shoulder shrug. "I'm more interested in watching Starfire fall out the sky at the sight."
Ugh, of course the alien princess has to find her way into their conversation.
"Hmm," he says to himself as Rachel shifts her legs out of the way so that he can perch himself on the edge of the van. "I don't think I too like option 1. What's option 2?"
"Option 2 is a cheesy romance novel," she answers, "where the plot is that there is no plot. Just cringe lines about love and passion between characters who have known each other for all of 7 minutes."
"Oh!" Richard says in feigned surprise. "Sounds like Rachel has read her fair share of these…questionable novels. Has someone developed a kink?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Robin," she says with a light blush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "I was -"
"Dick."
"Huh?"
"Call me by my name," Richard lightly demands. Rachel swallows in uneasiness.
"I don't think this is an appropriate time or place for that," she counters.
"Why not?" he asks. "We're alone in the Titan's van. This is just a private conversation between two friends."
She hesitates once again which brings a slight frown to Richard's brow. After everything they've been through together, using his name shouldn't be this difficult. "Call me by my name, Rachel."
She quietly mumbles in the confined spaced between them, "Fine, Dick."
"Louder," he commands. He wants to hear her say his name loud and clear. With no hesitation. There is a part of him that has always been annoyed by her insistence that they downplay the depth of their bond with one another. As though their friendship is somehow shallower than the ones he shares with the rest of the team. Even in group photos of the Titans, she rarely ever stands beside him. Always hovering at the edge, as though she isn't quite one of them. She does belong with them. Belongs with him. At his side.
"I don't think that's a good idea," she quietly says. "The rest of the team still calls you Robin. I don't want to step on anyone's toes by calling you by your name out here."
"You make it sound like we're doing something sinful," Richard counters. "Something we shouldn't be. I consider you my closest friend who I would do just about anything for. I've literally pulled you out of hell…"
Rachel opens her mouth to counter. Probably about the rest of the team. "...I know I wasn't the only one down there trying to get you back. BB, Star and Cy all agreed that you are worth the risk, so I don't think that we need to walk on eggshells around them."
"I beg to differ, Robin," Rachel says with sadness in her voice. "Both Star and BB dislike when we call each other by our first names. It makes them uncomfortable. I don't want to make any of my friends feel like that."
Richard lets out a sigh as he buries both of his feet into the warm sand beneath him. He can understand why the rest of his team aren't thrilled by he and Rachel using their first names with each other. From a logical perspective, it is reasonable for them to feel left out of the loop and even a little bit betrayed. This same courtesy isn't being extended to them, even though they've known him for just as long as Rachel has. He supposes that Starfire feels especially slighted by the intimacy of exchanging first names and he does feel a bit guilty for that. However, what the rest of the team doesn't realize is that he and Rachel share a much deeper connection than anyone else on the team. He had felt the strain on their mental connection when she disappeared. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that this wasn't the end. Like she was somewhere out there. In the void. It agitated him to no end. He could feel her on the fringes of his mind but when he reached out to touch it...to connect with her, the feeling would disappear, and he would be left with an emptiness that fiercely ached. It was slowly driving him to madness.
There are no words in the human language that can clearly convey what he felt at the loss of the beautiful young woman before him. How could he explain this fleeting sensation to those who have never experienced it? They would have just told him that he was filled with grief and guilt at losing a valuable teammate who was under his command. They would have said that it was a natural part of letting go and dealing with the death of someone he held dear. But he is no stranger to loss. He's experienced it many times before and not always to death. He is painfully aware of the way that he grieves and how it manifests itself into violence that masquerades as justice. He was so distraught that he was willing to make a deal with his personal devil: Slade. When the older man told him that there was a way to bring Rachel back, Richard didn't question it. If bringing her back would calm his turbulent mind and sooth his aching soul, then he would do it. He just knew that his most cherished companion's soul was not at rest and he couldn't leave her like that. She didn't deserve it.
"Our friends," Richard begins while his eyes scan the beach, "mean as much to me as they do to you, Rachel."
He watches as Star free falls from the sky and smoothly dives into the water's rolling depths. Within seconds, her powerful frame is bursting out of the water with a wiggling green dolphin in her arms. A small smile spreads across his handsome face as the dolphin is able to break free from Star's grasp and manages to slap her in the stomach with his tail before diving back under the waves. The princess' face lights up with laughter as she flies higher into the sky and twirls in a circle before her keen eyes scan the murky depths beneath her. She's full of such life and energy that it has always been mesmerizing to watch her navigate her way through the world. Her childlike exuberance can be infectious when times are good, and his small city is at peace.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" is quietly said beside him.
"She is," he agrees without taking his eyes off of Star. "She's full of life. Kind and gentle..."
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Rachel nodding along, but there is an oddly pained expression on her lovely face. He couldn't pinpoint the emotion, but he knew it was tied to one of her many insecurities. "...so are you, Rachel."
She gives him an incredulous look as if to say that he doesn't have to try to make her feel better by telling lies. "We both know that Star and I are nothing alike."
"No," he agrees, "But you're more alike than you're willing to give yourself credit for. She leans into those parts of herself, while you run from yours. You are, also, full of life…"
Richard drops his gaze to Rachel's barely covered navel. The sheer fabric of her cover up hardly hides the toned muscles beneath her delicate, pale skin before continuing, "You can give life...heal life...take life...you're more powerful than you even realize. But you're also kind and gentle. You don't abuse the power that you wield. You actively use it to help people...This is really just a roundabout way of saying that I'm thankful that I'm tethered to you."
Violet eyes are trained on their leader as he gazes intently at her womb. A pretty blush blooms across pale cheeks as she watches him quickly lick his lips before flickering his eyes back up to meet hers. Rachel turns away so as not to meet his unreadable gaze. She quietly mumbles, "You're definitely a sweet talker. You're a woman's worse nightmare."
A snort of amusement passes through Richard's lips because she didn't know the half of it. He's sure that she would think very differently of him if she knew of his past entanglements. "Luckily for them, I think other women are a hassle. I much prefer you over them."
"Lucky me," she drawls in her deeply feminine voice that he had thought he would never hear again.
"We're both lucky," Richard admits. "I meant it when I said that I am thankful that it's you who I am mentally connected to. I know that neither of us meant for it to happen, but I'm grateful for it. It's how I knew you didn't die when you were in hell."
"What do you mean?" Rachel asks with hopeful confusion in her voice.
"I don't know how to explain it," he admits, "but it's like I felt that you were still out there. Like you weren't really gone. Just...unreachable."
Richard points to the base of his skull, "It was like a nagging pressure that sat heavily right here. Every time I tried to reach out to touch it...it would dissipate. It was frustrating, but I knew you were there. I could feel it. I thought I was going mad."
She quietly murmurs, "I felt you, too."
Blue-gray meets violet as she continues, "I felt you too, but I didn't know who you were. I just knew that you were out there and that, even though I was isolated, I wasn't completely alone. That knowledge was what kept me from succumbing to Trigon's demands. If it wasn't for that tether…"
A dark cloud rolls across Rachel's face as she recalls her time in hell. Without thinking too deeply, Richard reaches across the short distance between them and firmly grasps her warm hand in his larger one. He strokes it with his thumb as he attempts to stop her thoughts from traveling down a darker path. "That's in the past, Rachel. You didn't give in to Trigon. Whatever you needed to do to keep yourself sane was justified. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation then lean on that connection...our bond...As long as I'm here, you'll never be alone."
"Dick…" she whispers to the space between them. Her violet eyes are swelling up with unshed tears. There is conviction in her voice when she says "You're a good friend. More than I deserve."
"You," he responds with annoyance, "deserve more than you give yourself credit for. I've said it before, and I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it. Your father's sins are not yours to bear. You are only responsible for the actions that you take."
"I know. I know," she repeats. "On a logical level I know that. I know that I'm not the sole reason for the destruction of Azarath. I know that Trigon can only get as far as I allow him. I know that I'm responsible for my own fate. My own destiny. Dick...I know all these things, but these feelings...these emotions...they don't just go away because I know these things."
Rachel's brows scrunch together in frustration at not being able to allow herself to let go of the guilt that she has been taught to harbor. The monks who raised her wanted to keep the worlds safe, even if it came at the cost of a child's mental health. Even if it meant eating into a powerful woman's self worth. On the one hand, Richard couldn't blame them for using such an effective manipulation technique. He secretly admires the fine line that they walked between fusing Rachel's sense of guilt with the responsibility of stopping Trigon. They were careful to not crush her enough to willingly succumb to her father even though they made everything seem so bleak and hopeless. On the other hand, he finds himself on this hot summer day attempting to undo some of the damage they caused so that his beloved friend can learn to actually live afull life.
"Emotions are trickier to navigate than logic," he agrees. "However...and you're not going to like hearing this...there's a part of you that doesn't want to let it go because of what that'll mean for your growth. Don't look at me like that Rachel. You know what I'm saying is true."
"You don't think that I want to be happy?" she accuses as she pulls her legs closer to her body and wraps her arms around them in a defensive position. He can tell by her posture that she is readying herself for an argument.
"I know you do," Richard quickly responds. "I know you want to be happy and at peace. But that also means that you need to unlearn a lot of the things that you've been taught. They might have served someone else's purpose as you were growing up, but you have to start thinking about the future you want for yourself. The life you want to live. What happiness means for you."
The sounds of care free laughter juxtaposes the heavy silence within the van. Both birds are heavily lost in thought. Rachel's are storming, but they both know that she's not mad at him, but at the whole situation. There is a deep sigh from the quiet young lady. "I've never really thought about what life could be like without Trigon hanging over my head. Since I can remember, all of my training, studies and interactions have been designed to keep him at bay. I don't think there was ever really a moment where I could think about the things that I wanted for myself…"
"Now is your time to do just that," encourages Richard. "I know we've had this conversation many times before and I know that we keep circling back to this point, but you cannot structure you life around him. Yes, he is out there and, yes, he will more than likely rear his ugly head again, but you're not alone this time. Stopping him isn't your sole responsibility. You have the Titans at your back. And the Justice League. None of us are going to lay that hefty burden on your bony shoulders. Your job is to keep Earth safe and our job is to keep Earth safe."
A small, tight smile of appreciation tugs at Rachel's full lips. Richard knows that rational thoughts are warring with irrational emotions and that they will, inevitably, end up talking more about this later. He is confident that she will take the time to think about the option that he's offering. She just has to trust herself enough to take hold of it. He'll be right there to guide her along every step of the way. He'll show her how to fall in love with life instead of covering it with bubble wrap and putting it on a shelf. The monks gave her fear and guilt to keep Trigon away while he'll give herfriendship and memories.
"Thank you, Dick," Rachel quietly says to the space between them before giving his hand a firm squeeze and letting go. "And my shoulders aren't bony!"
"Any time," he responds with a smile. "Oh! Before I forget. There's something that I have to give you."
Moist violet eyes watch him with curiosity as he reaches for and digs through his beach bag. He pulls out a long, velvet blue jewelry box with gold lettering at the top. He holds it in both hands as he swipes over the material with his thumbs.
"I know that you don't like gifts," he starts as he looks at her with an affectionate smile on his face. There is no doubt in Richard's mind about how much he cherishes his beloved friend. Canthis be called love? Is he even capable of real love? Those are questions that he'll have to reflect on later, when he can be honest with his thoughts. Right now, he needs to be careful with his words and not let Rachel's enchanting flush of embarrassment derail him for his mission.
"But I still want to give you this. I had wanted to give this to you as a birthday gift, but that's long gone. And then the whole thing with getting you back from Trigon's hell happened. And then a whole flurry of minor crimes happened...Anyway. Now is as good a time as any," Richard lamely finishes. He can feel his own neck becoming warm at presenting this gift. He's usually not shy about these things, but Rachel's eyes are staring at him in disbelief.
He feels nervous as she takes the box that he's offering and opens it with the care of an archaeologist at work. Her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth as nimble fingers gently pry the lid open. He hears an audible gasp as she takes in the adornment inside. Richard had thought long and hard about what he should get for his dear friend. He had originally thought about a book collection or fancy ink pens, but those were safe choices. He thought about buying her clothes but didn't know enough about women's fashion and that was something Star said she wanted to doing with her. It was then that he realized that Rachel didn't own any jewelry. He couldn't recall a time when she had ever worn rings or a necklace. He thought about earrings but then remembered that her ears weren't even pierced. A bracelet or necklace would be nice but could be a potential hazard in combat. Rings are a bit too intimate to present to a friend. Then it dawned on him that an anklet would work. It would be covered by her costume and freely worn during her down time. Once that was settled, the hunt was on.
He looked through a handful of catalogs, but found nothing, so he asked Alfred to commission a piece for him through the Wayne's private jeweler. No doubt that earned him a few raised eyebrows from the butler and Bruce alike. Both thought that the piece was being made for Starfire, so they were more than surprised when he requested that the anklet charms be in the shape of raven's feathers with different colored precious jewels embedded in each one. He wanted the chain to be sturdy and to look like two pieces of rope entwined with one another. All in all, the final pure silver piece is stunning. The jewels sparkle in the dimmest of lights and Richard was confident that the shimmery metal would compliment Rachel's pale skin.
"This is beautiful," Rachel says as she carefully holds the finely crafted jewelry in her hands. "But, Robin, I…"
"Dick," he says.
"...Dick," she repeats, "I can't possibly accept this. I appreciate the thought but I can't take this."
"Why not?" he asks. He knew she wouldn't agree straight away so he was ready to do some convincing.
"Firstly," she says as she holds the item up to the light, "this is too expensive…"
"It's within my budget," he counters, "and it's not like I can't afford it. I choose to pay the price for it because I want to give my friend something nice."
Rachel looks at him with a torn expression. She wants to reject this gift because it would be the safe thing to do for herself and for the rest of the team. However, there was another part of herself that wanted to accept it because it is from him and it is beautiful. "Dick...I don't de…"
"You do," he cuts her off. He's tired of hearing her downplay herself and her worth. "You do deserve this and all the good things that the world has to offer. This isn't a birthday gift because I know how much you hate those and anything associated with it. This is a 'Rachel Appreciation Gift.' Even if you don't think you deserve it, you do.You should be recognized for everything that you do. Your dedication, will power, fortitude, morality, thoughtfulness. You've experienced enough horrors to spark anyone's villain story, yet here you are. With the Titans. Working hard every day to keep people safe."
Richard reaches up to gently swipe a tear that escapes Rachel's left eye. "You may be a grouch on the surface, but we both know...anyone who has ever known you knows, that you are a good person. You, as you independently stand, are deserving of recognition and love. Just like everyone else."
Richard smiles as the lights in the van begin flashing in time with Rachel's pulsing emotions. He can tell that she's truly touched by his words and his gesture. "It would mean a lot to me if you'd accept my gift...preferably before the horn starts honking and paparazzi come to investigate…"
A breathless laugh escapes her quivering lips as she tries to stop her face from ugly crying. He watches her take a deep breath and fan her face in an effort to get some air to circulate. When she is sure she can trust her voice she quietly says "Thank you, Dick."
He gently takes the anklet out of her hand and grasps her left ankle. He can comfortably fit his whole hand around it. While stroking the soft flesh beneath his fingers, he asks, "Can I put it on this one?"
Rachel nods her head in response and looks on with disbelieving eyes as her team's leader wraps the expensive jewelry around her ankle. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that the boy she met on the Titan's rooftop would so gently place her foot in his lap and gift her with something so precious. She can feel the hard muscles in his thigh twitching beneath her foot as he wraps the chain around her ankle. She knows that this is a gift from a friend, but the gestures and touches feel intimate. She tells herself that she's just projecting on to himbecause he was the first face she saw when she was lost in hell. The first to speak to her with words of kindness, even if it was because he had wanted something from her. He's just a friend who is doing something kind for someone he cares about. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Richard secures it into place and takes a moment to admire the way it looks against her flesh. The silver was a good choice. Beauty and function. Two things he admires to the most in the world.
"Thank you, Dick," Rachel softly repeats.
"You're welcome, Rachel," he beams at her with her foot still firmly in his grasp.
The sound of Richard's communicator going off pulls him back into reality. As pleasant as that moment was in the back of the Titan's van, the present is where he wants to stay. Both birds have come a long way in their relationship with one another. They can both admit their true feelings for one another and act on them, even though Richard knows Rachel is going to want to walk back much of what happened in his bedroom. The combination of exhaustion, drugs and high strung emotions led to a fruitful night for him.
There is another beep from his communicator as another message comes rolling in from one of his subordinates. He can feel his annoyance rising at the thought of untangling himself for Rachel's warmth. She is laying on her side in his arms and his leg if firmly wedged between hers with her plump ass resting against his crotch. One of his arms is encircling her waist with his hand beneath his shirt. Cupping a soft breast which he gives a gentle squeeze of appreciation to and is greeted with a soft groan. He buries his face against the crook of her neck and takes a deep breath of her scent for kissing it.
He pulls away from his comfortable position while quietly cursing underneath his breath so as not to disturb the sleeping woman. He shuffles over to the desk where he left his communicator and scrolls through the recent messages. Both are from Cyborg. They've cleared the area, collected samples for testing and took care of the media. They'll be back at the Tower in 15 minutes. Richard knew this moment with his beloved would have to come to an end eventually, but that didn't stop him from thinking about how he's going to extricate them both from the group so that they can finally be free to live their lives.
He quickly texts back two messages: he moved Rachel from the medic bay because it was too cold for her and there's soup in the kitchen if they're hungry. Richard clips the device to the belt loop of his pants before heading to the closet to find a clean shirt to wear. It wouldn't do to meet his teammates half naked in the hallway. That would lead to questionable questions. Once he's presentable, he makes his way over to his bed and gingerly untangles Rachel's wayward limbs from the sheets before covering her. She mumbles something in her sleep before rolling over to the other side. Richard smiles as she sticks her left foot out from under the covers. The silver of her anklet shimmers in the low light.
If one knew where to look, they would be able to see a fine line where the jewelry had been altered. Richard had commissioned the piece before Rachel's birthday and before she was dragged to hell. After she was kidnapped by Slade and rescued by him, he became increasingly paranoid that someone would take her from him again but he had no idea how to keep track of her without the communicator. There was a brief moment where he had seriously considered chipping her like a pet, but decided that that was too risky and that there had to be a better way. It was then that he remembered the anklet and thought about retrofitting it to also work as a GPS tracker. So, back to the jeweler he went. It didn't take much convincing to talk the man into encasing a tiny tracker into the anklet. Well, the money did the talking to be honest.
Much to Richard's horror, the device hadn't been ready when Rachel was taken from him for a second time. When he had finally brought her back and righted what was tossed into chaos, he couldn't wait to yoke her with this chain. Knowing where she is at all times eases his anxiety and allows him to function properly. Not having her by his side reeks havoc on his senses because of that nagging feeling at the back of his mind. She is there, but also not there. He can feel her, but can't quite touch her. It's maddening and just makes him want to pull her close and burrow himself deep inside of her. If she were to truly disappear, there's no telling what he would do or who he would become. Richard knows that planting the tracker on her is wrong. That using her moments of weakness to bind her to him is wrong. Drugging her is wrong. He understands that his intentions with her aren't always pure, however, he can't seem to bring himself to care because these things bring him pleasure. They bring him joy. They bring him peace and he is confident that Rachel can find peace in them too since he made these choices in her best interest.
Richard leans over the body of his sleeping beauty and gently places a kiss on the crown of her head before leaving his bedroom. He makes his way down to the utility closet that is closest to the garage. As he is retrieving light bulbs to replace the ones Rachel blew as she came all over his fingers, Richard hears a car pulling into the garage. He stands there and waits for the rest of team. He is mildly surprised to see both Cyborg and Starfire dragging their tired bodies over the threshold.
Star looks at him with exhaustion clearly written on her face as she asks, "How is friend Raven?"
"She's better," Richard replies. "Sleeping."
"That's good to hear," Cy chimes in. "Where is she? You said you moved her from the medic bay."
Richard levels his gaze with the older man's curious one. "She's sleeping in my bed."
Yep! This seems like a great place to end this chapter. What's your favorite chapter so far?