Raven had found the darkest corner in the winding paths behind the arena's grand seating area to disappear into. Her skin was clammy as her stomach churned with threats to expel the contents. The gemstone on her head burned, and she could almost hear her father mocking her from whatever hell she had banished him to. Air seared her lungs with each breath she forced herself to take. Her throat felt tight and constrained as she kept panicked sobs from escaping. Her hands shook as she ran them through her hair, pulling at the roots, savoring that sting of pain as the strands tugged on her scalp, if only to feel something other than the crashing guilt. The only mercy she had was that her mind was too jumbled to repeat Robin's words. Instead, she heard the sounds of shuffling feet and talking as people filled the room, unaware of the dark presence that lingered behind them.

And that was exactly how she felt. A dark presence, a soulless demon haunting this place. How could she have done that? What was wrong with her? She had killed someone. Taken a life. Sent a soul to damnation. Her hands were bloodied, and a dark void was in the place a soul should be.

Slow tears leaked over her cheekbones as she pressed her back against the wall, feeling the shadows consuming her, caressing her skin as if to welcome her to the blackness. They called to her, far stronger than she had ever heard them. It was as if they recognized her at the deepest level. That she was cold and hollow and dark like them. They beckoned to her to stay, to disappear in their depths and be submerged, never to appear again.

As soon as Robin had told her, she had frozen, unhearing, wondering if perhaps she had died in that arena, and this was some punishment Trigon had concocted to welcome her to death. She still wasn't convinced that wasn't the case.

The announcement that the next fights were starting and the arena doors opening had distracted everyone long enough for Raven to vanish. She couldn't stand the sorrowful eyes of her friends on her, the kindness they tried to show her after what she had done. It was too much. She had stepped back into her darkness and sought more of it. She couldn't stand in the light, or everyone would see. So she had found this corner, forgotten and separate, and she had clawed out of those shadows to collapse against a wall, unable to bear her own weight. Now, the shadows around her whispered for her to return, to sink into their depths and be carried away, the world forgotten. She could reside there for eternity, sifting through the place between worlds, unseen by the light of this one. She felt the lick of living shadow trace delicate lines on her palms, lacing itself between her fingers like a lover holding her hand, tugging gently on her as a guide into the growing dark behind her.

Her eyes closed, and she curled her own fingers around that shadowy hand. She was ready to be overtaken by that darkness, to be drawn into it forever, but the sounds of metal footsteps intruding on her solemn exile kept her still, rejecting the pull if only for a moment.

"Well, this is moody," Slade's smooth voice drawled, "even for you."

Raven's cheeks heated, but not from embarrassment. A wave of fury washed over her, and she spun on Slade who stood a few feet away with his arms crossed and head tilted, ripping her hand away from those twitching shadows. "Fuck off, Slade. You have no idea what this feels like."

Slade scoffed. "Seriously?" he asked, gesturing to himself. "Killer to killer, Raven," he said dismissively, ignoring her flinch at the words, "Scarecrow really isn't worth all of… this." He waved his hand broadly at her, at the shadows wrapping over her body, calling to her from behind, from everywhere.

White hot anger burned in her chest again, and she strode forward, feeling her eyes burn with that demonic power and standing nose to nose with Slade. "You may not value life, Slade," she said, her voice reverberating and deepening, "but I do! We are not the same, so do not pretend as if this doesn't matter because it does! It matters to me, and Scarecrow…" Raven's voice faltered, softening as her eyes faded back to their normal purple hue, choking on his name.

Raven hung her head, shame and sadness replacing her wrath. "He didn't deserve to die," she said quietly, looking to the floor. "His mind," she continued, casting herself back and remembering the way Scarecrow's mind had felt, like a maze of horrors with no way out, "it was broken." She shook her head, wrapping herself in her own arms as if she could warm herself of the chill that swept over her. "He didn't deserve death. He needed help, and because of me, he will never get it."

It was stupid, explaining herself to him, but she needed to say it. She needed someone to hear it. She needed to voice it, so it was real. She had stolen his life away. She needed someone to know. To know she valued it. His life. No matter how broken and horrible he was. It had mattered. And she had taken it.

Slade was quiet for a moment before he released a long breath, and his gloved hand was beneath Raven's chin, lifting her face upwards. She didn't fight him, but she refused to meet his gaze.

"Don't you think others have tried?" Slade said, his tone unusually soft. "How many times had Scarecrow been in Arkham? How many times did Batman himself put him there?"

Raven frowned, her eyes flicking to Slade's face. She knew enough of the dark knight's history with Scarecrow to know the answer was non-zero.

"You can't help people that don't want to be helped, Raven," Slade continued. "You were going to die. He was willing to kill you. And not just willing. Happy to do so. How many lives have you saved would you say?"

The question caught her off-guard, and she blinked, shaking her head. "I… I don't know."

"Hundreds?" Slade pressed. "Thousands? How many more people will you save after you leave here? How many people would die if you weren't there to save them?"

Raven's lips thinned. "It doesn't matter," Raven hissed. "I took a life. Nothing I do will ever change that."

"No," Slade agreed, "it won't."

"If this is your version of a peptalk," Raven said incredulously, "you're doing a terrible job."

Slade shrugged. "Perhaps, but if you stay here and sulk. If you vanish into whatever creepy little dark corner you find, more people will die because you weren't there. Scarecrow is gone. Nothing is changing that. No one will mourn him, and I would bet some of your fellow heroes are secretly glad he's gone. Your actions may very well have made a better world, but if you let this destroy you, innocent people will suffer for it. Because you chose to hide." Slade's hand gripped the back of Raven's neck hard, forcing her eyes to meet his. "So. Stop. Hiding."

Raven stared into that fierce eye for several seconds, her breath slow as she absorbed what he said. "I can't just let it go," she admitted, still feeling tremendous guilt.

"Then don't," Slade said simply, not releasing her. "Keep it with you and use it. Use it to do more, to do better."

Raven paused, turning it all over, and while part of her found comfort in what Slade said to her, something in those words nagged at her. "You said…" she started, "you said that I might have 'made a better world' by killing him."

"Scarecrow was a fucked-up killer, and now he's gone. Less people will suffer because of it," Slade explained smoothly, no doubt or hesitation in any of his words.

Raven lifted her hand, gently pulling Slade's wrist down and disconnecting them from each other. He let her move it, keeping his eye on her face. Raven shook her head. "No," she breathed. "I didn't. That kind of thinking… that's how evil justifies itself. I didn't make a better world because he's gone, but I can still choose to work towards one."

Slade paused before she felt the distinct sense of him smirking beneath his mask. "Well, then," he drawled, stepping in close, leaning down so his mask was beside her ear. "I guess you're not evil after all… demon," he teased softly.

Raven rolled her eyes, pushing past him and headed in the direction of the catwalk they shared that first day of fights, hearing Slade's metal steps echo behind her as she walked. Her heart still felt heavy, and despite what Slade said, Raven decided she would mourn for the dead, even if he didn't deserve it. As the duo moved up into the rafters of the arena, Raven felt lighter, her stomach no longer churning, her hands no longer shaking. The shadows that had caressed her had retreated, and while she would never admit it to the villain stalking behind her, or anyone for that matter, Slade had pulled her off the edge. When she looked inward, she didn't see an empty void, but a mourning soul that would forever have a dark stain upon it, but… she could live with that. She could live and fight for broken people, and she could save innocents, and maybe… maybe one day that stain wouldn't seem so harsh.

When she reached the middle of the catwalk, Slade stepped up beside her, his body barely brushing hers. She should have been repulsed by the closeness of it, but in that moment, she found it comforting. It was an anchor to this world. This world she had chosen and protected, over and over again. It wasn't like the darkness that lingered at the edges of her vision, still beckoning her, calling her to submit to the weight on her heart, so she didn't move away from him. Instead, very subtly, she leaned into it, letting her shoulder connect with his as he leaned his elbows onto the railing.

She wasn't like him. He could justify death and violence with such ease, but the gentle way he spoke to her… Raven swore part of him understood. That some long forgotten piece of Slade had once felt as Raven had, but no one had taken him from that ledge, and he had had nowhere to disappear. That he had looked inward and never found anything after, letting that void fester and consume him.

She didn't pity him. Just as she didn't pity herself. What was done could not be undone. Slade had made his choices, and while she hadn't chosen to kill Scarecrow, she had released the magic that killed him.

Killer to killer… That's what they were, the pair of them. The Duo of Death indeed, but Slade was the antithesis of what Raven wanted to be, and everything she could become if she succumbed to that guilt and despair inside. If she let herself justify what she had done, so she wouldn't. She would lean on Slade as a reminder of everything she wouldn't let herself be. Because the more human she saw him, the less he became a monster. And if he wasn't a monster, then maybe there was a chance for her.

"One of them," Slade said, interrupting Raven's thoughts, "planned that."

Raven glanced down to where he pointed a finger. He was gesturing to the group of gathered Leaguers, excluding Batman who now stood with Robin on the arena floor.

"Planned what?" Raven asked, genuinely not sure what he meant.

"Robin telling you about Scarecrow."

Raven's brows rose. "That doesn't make any sense. Robin told me because I should know."

"Exactly," Slade stated, his voice annoyed. "And I already know good ole Batman told him the same thing I told him. To wait. Meanwhile, someone else," he nodded in the direction of the seated Leaguers, "was whispering in boy wonder's ear that the right thing to do was tell you the moment he saw you."

"It's not like it would have mattered," Raven said, almost bitterly, "it doesn't change anything."

Slade snapped his head to glare at her. "And that's exactly what I'm getting at. Scarecrow would still be dead if he had waited until after our fight, but he didn't. He told you less than an hour before you go down there and risk your life. Now, who do you think benefits from that?

"When we walked in that room this morning, we were on the same page. Robin's little intervention nearly derailed that and very well might have succeeded anyway. You're in your head, I can see it, even now. And if you can't focus, we're going to lose today, and that's what they," another angry gesture at the Leaguers, "want. They saw what you could do, and they want you off your game. To hold back so they can take this win and knock us out. And they used your little friend to do it. Manipulated him to 'do the right thing,'" Slade spat the words with such disdain even Raven was surprised, "and tell you, regardless of whether it was actually good for you to know."

"I needed to know, Slade," Raven said carefully, a bit of venom in her tone.

Slade spun on her, "But you didn't need to know now. I was going to tell you, after the fight today. But Robin walked right into their net and beat me to it."

Raven scoffed. "How do you know he was manipulated and that he didn't just want to tell me?"

Slade levelled a bored look at her. "Trust me, it's not that hard to manipulate him. I would know. And since Batman himself told him not to… that means someone else sowed enough seeds to spur him to do it anyway."

"How do you know Batman said that?"

"Did you think I just stayed in the room, watching you, the whole time?" Slade asked sarcastically.

"So you were spying?"

"Obviously."

Raven shifted on her feet, unsure what to believe. "If that's true, why would he ignore Batman's advice? They're family… practically," Raven added quickly, catching herself.

Slade caught it, however, and whether he already knew or not, she wasn't sure. "Family drama," he said, sweeping his arm to encompass Batman and Robin on the arena floor below. "Those two have been either bickering or ignoring each other this entire time. The only reason they've made it this far is because they're one of the most in-sync pairs I've ever seen on the floor. It's obvious they've worked together the longest, and, also, obvious, they disagree on what that dynamic should look like."

Even as Slade said it, Raven could sense it. There was tension between the two. She remembered the frustration Robin had felt trying to discuss strategy with the League that first day, and she could feel that same frustration tripled while he and Batman shared quiet, hurried words now. What they were saying, she didn't know, but based on the grim look Robin had on his face, she guessed it wasn't a pleasant conversation.

"This should be quick," Slade commented, looking down at the floor with a mildly amused expression on his face.

Raven followed his eyeline and saw Harley Quinn and the Joker having their own conversation. But unlike the heroes on the other side of the field, everyone could hear what they were saying.

"Don't ya try and fool me, Mistah J!" Harley shouted, "I know what I saw! With my own two eyes!"

"Harley, always so dramatic!" the Joker cackled. "You know you're my one and only."

A collective groan echoed over the crowd, and even Raven and Slade rolled their eyes. The arena shook as the fighting grounds took shape, the lights darkening, and while Raven hadn't spent much time there, she could've sworn the arena below had transformed into a piece of Gotham. On their side of the ring, Batman and Robin shared a knowing look, small smiles breaking some of the tension between them as the horn blared and the fight started.

"You're kidding," Raven murmured, watching as Harley and the Joker continued to argue.

"Don't you deny it. You was flirting with that little wretch, I know it!" Harley shouted shrilly, pointing the end of a machete at the Joker's throat.

"Puddin'," the Joker said in faux shock, "I would never!"

"Don't you puddin' me!"

Batman and Robin were already halfway to the other side, moving silently and swiftly through the small buildings like they had been born for it.

"I'll bet you the amulet they both go down without throwing a single strike," Slade said, far more amused than Raven thought possible.

She considered him for a moment, then the arena below and everything she knew about the four figures down there. With a sly smile, she said, "You're on."

Slade glanced at her in surprise. "You're actually going to bet against your heroes?"

Raven shook her head. "Batman and Robin are going to win, but that's not what you bet."

Slade titled his head, "Touche."

Harley was now plugging her ear with her fingers, back to the Joker and making noises to drown him out like a child.

"Harley!" the Joker complained. "We've got bats to swat! Why must you always be so difficult?!"

Just as Batman and Robin closed in, Harley spun on the Joker, throwing her hands down like a toddler and swapping her machete for a huge hammer that Raven was impressed she could even lift. "DIFFICULT?" she screamed. "Oh, I'll show you difficult!" And then Harley swung, using her whole body to build up the momentum and slam the Joker with the end of her oversized hammer.

The Joker grunted as it hit him, flying backwards just as Batman and Robin swooped in. Robin tackled Harley, her hammer going flying while the Bat sent a gadget to the Joker that spewed a net, trapping him beneath. Harley thrashed beneath Robin, trying to buck him off, but Robin kept her down, slamming a pair of cuffs on her hands.

"Ugh, you see, this is all your fault!" Harley shouted at the Joker as he groaned, still not fully recovered from the hit, as the horn blared again, announcing the end of the match.

Laughter went over the crowd, even from the villains, everyone able to acknowledge the ridiculousness. "How… disappointing," the Master of Games said over the speakers. "Next!"

"I believe you owe me an amulet," Slade purred.

Raven grinned, knowing there was a gleam of wicked satisfaction in her eyes as she tsked at him. "No, no. You've got that backwards."

Slade looked at her in confusion.

"You said they would go down without throwing a single strike," Raven clarified, gesturing to the Joker. "You never said who that strike was against. You lose."

Slade's eye widened, and for several seconds he didn't say anything. Then, he laughed, genuinely, and settled back on the railing as the arena cleared. "You're spending too much time with me, Raven."

Raven kept a smile on her face, watching Batman and Robin leave victorious while Harley and the Joker continued to argue. Her grin only faltered when she heard whispering from the end of the catwalk, and when she turned, she saw shadows calling to her. And standing in those shadows, silent and still, was Scarecrow, looking at her, unmoving and unblinking. Raven stared at him for a long moment before she turned away, her smile gone and wondering how long that specter would haunt her.

A/N: I know everyone's been waiting a long time for this chapter, and I hope it was worth it. I did a lot of back and forth on what I wanted this to look like before I settled on something which is why it took so long. Admittedly, I could've spent a very long time on exploring Raven's guilt, but for the sake of trying to complete this story and get it moving along, I choose to keep it relatively brief for now.

As always, thank you for reviews and favorites, it's always nice to get a notification and read what you all are thinking!