Damian was looking at the screen, all the love he had for the woman being displayed on it was clear as day. Just as bright as the sunshine passing through the clear windows. The white room is somehow whiter than it should be.

He smiled at her, admiring her beauty, "I can't wait to see you." He told her.

Raven was currently in a spaceship flying back to Earth from an off-planet mission. In fact, he was the one who set the mission up, he should have been there but he was told that he was needed on Earth. And so, he stayed.

And the young couple could feel the distance of being many lightyears away from one another.

She smiled back at him, a hand on the screen as if caressing him, "If only I could teleport there with magic, then we wouldn't be in this situation."

He chuckled and scrunched up his nose, "It would take way too many trips for you to do that."

They both laughed. And even through the screen Damian could see her eyes sparkling and he could feel the love she had for him.

He was lean and in his Robin Uniform and she would always tease him to bulk up a little. How the thought of being wrapped around big arms might hit differently for her. He'd tell her that the thought of it was rather tempting. Then he'd proceed to tease her if she wanted his arms as big as her thighs, and laughter would always ensue after a strong embrace.

They've been together for five years and they've had their fair share of bumps on the road, but God did he love those five years. But that wasn't when they started liking each other. They liked each other way before they even started dating.

It was admittedly hard for him to admit just how much she made his heart flutter. Acting on these feelings was against his teachings in the League of Assassins– she was a liability– a weakness. But whenever he saw her, he'd forget those sacred teachings.

Just like right now. He wasn't a trained killer. He was simply the love of her life.

Raven stopped laughing, her mouth opened to say something, the love for the man she was staring at was so very clear.

So clear. So evident.

Then suddenly it was way too bright and then the screen went white.

Loud screaming came out from the lips of Damian who laid on the center of a circular bed that had dark green sheets made of silk. There were black muslin drapes that cascaded from the ceiling on top of the bed down to the floor. The transparency of the black muslin cloth somehow painted a mysterious and dark atmosphere in the already dark room.

It was a cold, dark, and quite empty space despite the gold that glittered at their own little corners.

The man shot up from his bed full of sweat. His eyes, the color of luscious leaves from an untouched forest, were wide. His tanned body was filled with many scars, his bare torso and arms reflected years of fighting. And underneath all the symbols of suffering and torment was a well-toned body. His strong hands gripped his hair.

He was older now, bigger, and in those green eyes, there was nothing but darkness.

Damian al Ghul crouched over as he brought his knees closer. Even after ten years, the horror of that day would leave him shaking. He, whose hands had ended more lives than he could be bothered to count.

He bathed in blood with all the evil he had committed, yet he would still scream like a child at that treacherous memory.

At that time, he was simply talking to the love of his life who just wanted to return home to him, when a blast from out of nowhere killed her and everyone on that ship. She was returning– to him.

He sobbed as he closed his eyes.

It still hurts even now.

And yet, all he could see was her figure behind fluttering eyelids.

It was a mission that he prepared for. He was supposed to be on that ship with her. And yet, he wasn't because someone told him he was more needed on Earth. He wished so many times that he was aboard that ship, so then maybe, if there was an afterlife, he would be with her too.

That tragedy was the catalyst for him to join the League of Assassins.

He clenched his teeth and glared at the wall, as he inhaled deeply. He calmed himself and with a cold gaze, as if he was not grieving a moment ago, got out of bed, stark naked.

This was Damian al Ghul.

A cold cruel demon.

He grabbed his black robe that had gold details from a chair and put the sleeves through his arms as if it were made of rocks.

His expression was still quite vacant. Though if he was honest, he is nothing but empty since he lost her.

Then the anger came as it always does. He cleared the vanity table in front of him with one sweep of his large arms.

Then the screaming and thrashing of his things followed as it always does.

When he calmed, he was panting, and a hand was on his forehead. His eyes glanced at the empty bed and for the briefest moment. He thought he saw her.

He froze. Tears in his eyes yet again.

Damian inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. And in that moment where he closed his eyes to escape her, he swore he could faintly hear her voice echo through the room.

"You've never been this hot-tempered." Her voice coaxed him, "Calm down, my love."

He opened his eyes and swore he could see her on that bed with a hand extended to him. But when he blinked again, the illusion was gone.

He could never truly escape her.

His gaze fell to the floor in defeat and when he brought it back up, it was filled with ice.

He wrapped his robe around his body as he walked out of his bedroom.

Damian walked barefoot through the halls of Nanda Parbat. The cold prickling his feet was comforting for him. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again and so he wandered.

His feet brought him to the cold pools of one of his private baths. A bright place that felt rather mocking to the inner darkness and turmoil that he was feeling. He took the robe off as he settled into the coldness of the water fully, holding his breath as he stayed under.

When it was confirmed that the ship, they were in was totally incinerated, he was nothing but a shell. Damian didn't remember who else was on that ship. All he could remember was Raven and their last conversation.

It was too cruel.

It was a normal call.

He sat there on the bench with vacant eyes, he couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.

What was worse was that they couldn't even give him her corpse. He wept silently. If he had her body then he could use the pit. He would use it in a heartbeat. Damn, the consequences of using those ugly green waters if it brought her back. He'd revive her, even if it was just to bring him five more minutes with her.

Damian buried his face in his shaky hands, he was still in his Robin Uniform.

The days passed with him clearly out of it. His mind told him to go back to Nanda Parbat. He had nothing here now. They took her from him.

When he came to, he was in the halls of his childhood home.

Home.

What a funny word. His eyes gathered water.

Home was wherever Raven and he were together. That was home. Now no matter where he went and no matter how long he stayed, he knew it would never be home.

"Son?" In came Talia's cautious voice through the halls, the pain in her green eyes was visible. She had the same-colored eyes as his.

But there was only one eye color he wished to see. Those beautiful eyes that were the color of lavenders.

Arms wrapped around him and whatever control he had shattered. He wept in his mother's arms like a little boy.

Damian was nineteen when he lost Raven.

One day, months after Raven's death, in Damian's bedroom in the League, he pulled out her hairbrush from a box of her things. With his altered mind from the death of his lover and the period he had spent with the League, he wondered if his mother could create a clone of her.

And he kept staring at the brush that had several strands of her hair still there. It should be more than enough.

His mother made clones of him, so why not her?

Then in the very least, he would have her.

Damian inhaled loudly, breaking the silence and his dark thoughts.

Raven would hate him, he thought, but would that really matter?

His green eyes started to become flooded with water again. A frequent occurrence.

If he had a clone of Raven made, it wouldn't be her. Not really, not exactly. But he'd be able to hold her again, in his arms and keep her safe there.

Despite Damian standing firmly on his feet, he was swaying, eyes still locked at the brush in his hands. His hot tears dripped onto the floor.

It won't be her, not fully, but it would still be her, wouldn't it?

He was sure his mother could do it. She could. He couldn't breathe in this big room. He couldn't breathe properly since she disappeared in a literal flash.

Another loud gasp as Damian pulled himself out of the water. He recalled how often he'd sit on a bench and think of asking his mother to give Raven back to him, even if it was just a fraction of his beloved.

If a clone could fix it all.

He knew Talia al Ghul could do it.

But was it worth it?

Anything was worth it as long as he could see her– be with her. And live out the life they had planned together.

He raised a hand from the water as he bent his head and massaged his forehead.

Raven would hate him.

Maybe.

In some other time, in some other place, violet eyes opened with a gasp from her rosy lips.