(Written as part of the honorarytitangiftexchange2018 hosted by teentitansseasonfive on tumblr.)
New Life With You
From her father, Ravager learned that her half-brother was an excellent musician. Years ago, Jericho enthralled a plethora of crowds with his talent. In addition to his mastery of the piano and several string instruments, he was blessed with a singing voice that would rival the masters. When watching old tapes, Ravager listened to Jericho sing his heart out, and at the end of each performance, tears rolled down her gaunt cheeks. She hadn't been aware that she started crying until the audience began applauding.
Hearing him in person, however, was an entirely different scenario. Jericho carried an air of peace around him and in his music. His fingers plucking the strings of his guitar calmed her aching soul. Ravager was inclined to believe that Jericho's music could quell the whole world if everyone would simply lend an ear.
Jericho continued smiling and playing only for her. The quiet rapture of her flat was filled with harmonious notes blending and weaving around them. She was glad to have left her window slightly ajar, allowing the song to be carried by the gentle, chilly breeze to the citizens of Jump City below. The snowflakes danced between his sound, twirling and spinning as they descended to the concrete below.
Ravager closed her eyes and brought her knees to her chest. Jericho's music soothed her like the comforting hand of a friend rubbing her back. The world melted away, and all that was left was herself and her brother. All manners of discord and despair briefly faded from her life. It was as if the pain Slade forced her to endure was vanishing into the deepest crevices of her mind.
"I never thought I'd be able to hear your music," Ravager admitted. Her deep cobalt eyes flicked over to Jericho, and she watched him trace his fingers along the wooden edge of his guitar, the hum of his final note echoing between them.
Jericho rolled his shoulders back. His lips parted and spread in a threadbare grin. He ran his lightly calloused fingers along worn strings of his guitar before setting it down on the couch. Taking one of the plush gray pillows between them, he set it aside and scooted closer to her.
Following Jericho's gaze, Ravager furrowed her brow. Wearing the holiday sweater he had bought for her was the only downside to their bonding. She preferred combat-oriented clothing such as breathable jumpsuits or armor, but the bulky, scratchy, wool sweater with the obnoxiously large reindeer was an affront to her style. The puffy, white patches of fake fur serving as what she believed to be snow irritated her eyes and made her nose wrinkle.
Jericho raised his hands and signed, You know, you don't have to wear it. I even have the receipt if you want to return it.
"I know, but you went through the trouble of buying it for me. I might as well humor it for a little while." Ravager shrugged. "'Tis the season and all that jazz." She glanced at his shirt and smirked. "As for you, I'm surprised to see you in that. I thought you were some kind of hippie, but I guess even I can be wrong."
Jericho mimed the gesture of laughing. He covered his lips and bobbed his head a few times. Leaning back into the couch, he glanced down at his attire. A pair of faded orange jeans surprised no one, but it was his jet black sleeveless shirt with the image of a roaring skull with feathers that stole the show. With a golden helmet, the skull appeared to be like the spirit of a Viking warrior.
Ravager lightly punched his shoulder and grinned. "Seriously, I had no idea you could pull off the punk look. You're gonna give Jinx and that Argent chick a run for their money."
Maybe I could even pick up some better clothes for you, Jericho signed, and at her eyes widening, he grimaced and quickly added, I mean, I could give you some punk fashion pointers. Yeah! That's it!
Ravager's mouth fell open, and the breath she unknowingly held heaved out in a dramatic sigh. She flicked Jericho's temple, sneering, "Oh, trying to be cute, huh? Fine. I'm game." She leaped to her feet and clutched her hips. "Let's go shopping. I'm wanna know exactly what other kind of threads you wear."
Jericho matched her eager grin. Sounds good to me.
She allowed Jericho to walk in front of her only for her expression to swiftly fall. It was a common mistake, her father used to say, to walk in front of her enemies. Slade would add that she should be attacking him while Jericho's defenses are at his lowest. The intrusive thoughts traced across the surface of her mind like a pencil gliding across paper, but she fervently shook her head. She was not going to let her father's seething control interrupt what was supposed to be her new life. Rubbing her forearm, Ravager took a deep breath.
Rose? Jericho signed when he noticed her standing still. Are you okay?
Flicking her gaze towards him when she heard his footsteps returning, Ravager smiled. She smoothed back her white tresses and then grabbed her keys off the nearby wooden wall rack. Her tight lips relaxed into a smile as he gazed at her with wide, shining jade eyes.
"Yeah. I'm good," she said, but Jericho frowned. Before he could protest, Ravager wrapped her arm around her shorter brother. Opening the door, she added, "We're gonna have a good time."
Jericho remained pensive for a moment before allowing a matching smile to stretch into his cheeks. He nodded, accepting her bold words. Patting her hand, Jericho felt bliss swell in his chest.
Both of them rejected their father's cruel outlook in different ways with one choosing to become a hero and the other still learning to be free from Slade's manipulation. It may take weeks, months, of perhaps even years for Ravager to truly grasp her own life, but Jericho will be there for her. They're well on their way to recovery, and each moment they spend together is a step towards victory.
Rose Wilson closed the door behind her, but as she did, she spared one final glance at Jericho's guitar and couldn't wait to return home to hear more of his beautiful melodies.