Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Titans Tower, San Juditas Bay

Jump City, California 

2:53 a.m.

Gar doesn’t know when he got so fucking old.

It was probably around the time that Jackson looked at him with those big fisheyes and said 'dude, you’re twenty-six?' Which, twenty-six isn't even old, what the hell does that idiot even know?

Okay, maybe that's a bit harsh. Jackson is a good kid.

Highly preferable to his predecessor as far as Aqualads go.

Speaking of, maybe it was Garth’s wedding. That sure as hell made him feel old. They didn’t even make him sit at the kids table. He was a groomsman. Because apparently that’s what happen when you get old: somehow your teenage rival becomes one of your closest friends and they start asking you to do things like stand up at an altar with them while they take blood oaths (Atlantian weddings are fucking intense).

At some point, Gar turned into the guy who's telling other people not to leave empty milk cartons in the fridge. Instead of being the guy the rest of the team second guesses because he's younger, less experienced than them, he’s now the guy they all look to because he's regularly the only real adult in the room.

And now he's the guy who can barely stand staying up to three in the morning and just wishes his girlfriend would come home so he can stop playing video games and go to bed.

Um, about that.

Raven isn't his girlfriend. Technically. At least he doesn't call her that out loud and he should probably stop calling her that in the confines of his own head before he slips up and does.

Raven is a girl who is also his friend who also sometimes lets him put his mouth on her mouth, but they aren't together. He'd asked, of course. After the first time he woke up with her sheets tangled around his legs. Because he's a gentleman. (And also because he’s in love with her.) But she'd just said that she didn't want a boyfriend and it didn't need to be complicated and he hasn't brought it up again two years.

And he's not waiting up for her. She just so happens to not be home yet, and he just so happens to be up. It's not like he's waiting by the door like some overeager puppy. Well, not exactly like that.

It's just that Raven has been spending a lot of time at JC General. Like way more than any of the actual doctors and those guys get lunch breaks and like… paid. Not that he thinks she should be asking for money, that kind of violates the whole creed of a hero thing. But still. The fact that she's been coming back worse and worse for wear after hours of healing people is not, like, great. She's gotta get some work life balance or something.

The dim backlights in the kitchen flicker at the same time that the screen of his switch glitches, and then Raven appears in the kitchen out of thin air.

All things considered, Gar should be very hard to startle. He’s got advantages in the sight and smell and sound department, and besides, he was expecting her. Still he manages to jerk at the sudden second person in the room. 

He aims for casual, trying very hard to focus on the little cat person on the switch screen and not the cortisol soaked E.R. smell rolling off of her. He's not up because he's been worried about her and waiting with baited breath for her to come home; he's up late indulging his impulsivity by playing video games like a properly irresponsible, young (definitely not old) adult.

"Sup."

Sup? What the hell was that? Raven doesn't respond and Gar can't say he blames her.

“Late night?” He tries again, cringing at himself. He'd sound embarrassingly transparent even if she weren't able to read his emotions as if they were plastered on a big neon sign above his head.

“Go to bed, Gar.” The sternness of her words is slightly undermined by her immediately throwing up into the kitchen sink. 

He trips over the back of the couch in a scramble to help her, she's shaking like a leaf, white knuckle clutching to the steel sink, her skin is clammy to the touch. "Jesus, are you ok-"

“Don’t touch me!” Raven shrieks like his touch burns and Gar jumps away from her.

“Shit- fuck- sorry.” 

Raven gasps and dry heaves into the sink. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

Her legs buckle and she crashes against the countertop, Gar catches her before he can think better of it, carefully lowering them both onto the floor.

“Sorry- fuck- sorry.” His fingers hover around her arms, trying to minimize contact as he stabilizes her against the wall of cabinets. Fuck, this is bad.

It's been bad before, but it's definitely worse now. She is getting worse. Fuck. It's a miracle she even made it home. The last time he saw her this exhausted she'd literally just been to hell and back. Which means this is not good. This is really not good. Fuck.

“You need to calm down. Now.” Raven heaves. The cabinets rattle around her, like she's trying to keep from literally combusting.

Fuck.

“Right, sorry, sorry.” Deep breaths, slow, don't forget to count.

One.

Two.

Three…

Take all those useless feelings and shove them in a little box in the back of your mind. Pretend you don't have any feelings at all. Mold the anatomy of your amygdala into something else and hope you don't give yourself lasting brain damage in the process.

It's Steve's voice in his head telling him that he needs to learn how to control his emotions or he's going to get them all killed, as if that's a normal expectation to put on a little kid. Be the master of your own mind, Garfield. Gar would be less annoyed about it if it didn't work.

Out. Two, three, four…

“Thank you.” Raven’s voice is soft and quiet even through the labored breath, like she's ashamed for asking. He might feel something about that if he were feeling anything at all in the moment.

“Do you want to go to the med bay?” Not that it would do her much good. She is the team's resident healer and it's not like an I.V. would repair her overworked soul energy.

Might not hurt though.

She looks like absolute hell, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, eyes puffy and reduced to slits. She clenches them shut.

“No.”

“Alright. Do you want me to go get M’gann? Or Dick?” M'gann might actually be able to repair some of the damage to her… psychic energy? Gar understands frustratingly little about demon anatomy. The magic element that really throws him off.

And Dick is… well, Dick.

“No, no, let them sleep. You should be asleep.” Raven's eyes narrow at him like she's aiming for stern, but with the way she's slumped back against the cabinet, it doesn't quiet land.

Gar shrugs. “Yeah, well… you know me, night owl.”

He shifts into Bubo virginianus like a reflex, flapping his wings and slipping back into his human form as though the bit of showmanship might get him out of admitting to waiting up for her like some sort of jilted housewife who's husband has been staying too late at the office.

“Gar.” Raven's hands come up to press along the sides of her nose and up her brow bones. He'll take that as failure.

Gar drops his chin onto his knees. “Fine. I was worried about you, sue me.” 

“I am fine.” Raven grits her teeth as she speaks: convincing.

“Yeah, clearly.”

“I have it under control.” 

Not knowing when to quit is practically occupational hazard in their business. Gar doesn't know a single Titan, a single hero, who doesn't push too hard, who isn't willing to give anything and everything for the sake of saving a life, even if it means giving their own. But this isn't sustainable. Nevermind the fact that Gar fucking hates seeing her like this, she's not invincible.

“Look, I know I’ve been known to make women swoon from time to time but you’ve gotta admit that wasn’t exactly normal. And this is what- the third time this week? Rae, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

If he really wanted to make a point, Gar would remind her that she gets dangerous when she loses control of her powers. And wearing down her ability to control her powers through overuse is a fucking stupid thing to do.

At least the cabinet doors have stopped ratteling.

“It’s just temporary, I’ll recover by the morning.” 

“That’s not- ”

“Stop talking.” Pain spills out of her and burrows into his skull like a mic screech. Wave of nausia hitting him square in the gut. Raven whimpers and pulls the pain back.

See? Fucking stupid. Raven is quite literally leaking her emotions. Which, whatever. She can offshore all her pain onto him for all he cares, but he's having a hard time convincing her to stop for her own sake.

This is why Dick would be better at handling this.

“I-um- right.”

Gar can't stand being useless, and he may not exactly understand the relationship between Raven's physical body and her spiritual one, but she was at the hospital for eleven hours (not that he was counting) and he doubts she ate or even bothered to sit down the whole time.

The entire top shelf of the refrigerator is full of prepackaged protein drinks Dick insists on keeping stocked for emergencies. 'Emergencies' being times when someone leaves the blender unwashed in the kitchen sink. Which is most of the time. Despite being specially formulated by Star Labs at the request of Bruce Fucking Wayne (who is just like, really into health and fitness, normal billionaire behavior) to contain all the vitamins and nutrients needed to recover from high intensity endurance activities (again, because Bruce Wayne is super into racket ball, no other reason) it still tastes like absolute shit.

Gar rips the cap off and shuffles through the silverware drawer for a pink swirly straw, as if that might distract an already nauseous Raven from the terrible taste.

“Here.” Raven scowls at the straw. “You need to eat.” 

A moment passes when she begrudgingly takes the box and begins to drink where Gar thinks she might actually throw up again. Instead she just cringes hard and gulps the entire thing down in one go.

“There’s leftovers from dinner too, if you want. Don’t worry, Jaime cooked.” With Vic gone, and half the team being made up of aliens and nepo babies who’ve never so much as turned on a stove, they’ve been a little lacking in the edible meals department. 

Raven shakes her head, it rolls loosely against the cabinets like she can hardly hold it up.

“Jesus Christ Rae.”

It's not uncommon after a fight for her to spend a few hours erasing the cuts and bruises or worse if their unlucky from everyone on the team, (invincible aliens not withstanding) without so much as a headache after. Hell, just last week Raven healed that little scratch he got (his intestines were falling out of his stomach after being mildly impaled by dismembered lamp post) like it was nothing.

He's no stranger to the extent of her capabilities. Someone that powerful takes a lot to bring down. It takes a lot to push her to the limit.

“How many people did you-”

“Don’t know.”

“Raven.”  

“It’s fine.” Raven scrunches her eyes shut even tighter, really selling it.

“It’s not fine, you can’t keep doing this to yourself, it’s dangerous-“ 

Her entire body spasms and she twists into a tight knot. "Shut up."

Gar shuts up.

Raven stays curled in on herself and Gar tries not to feel sick to his stomach. Tries not to feel anything at all for her sake. Slowly, her body starts to uncoil and she relaxes back against the wall.

“Thank you, you should get some sleep, I’ll be fine.”

And everyone thinks she's so reasonable. Gar bumps his big toe against her boot. “Sorry, friends don’t leave friends alone on the kitchen floor.” 

“Gar, I can’t- I- you- please.”

The domino chain that follows is unavoidable: Raven hiccups into a sob and that breaks the last thread of his shakily held back composure, heart twisting like a knife and Raven breaks into a dry heave which sends them both spiraling and-

(dontpanicdontpanicdontpanic)

He's not panicking. He is completely calm. He is in full control of his mind and body.

(dontpanic)

In, two, three, four.

Out, two, three, four.

(don't panic.)

He's acknowledging his feelings about the woman he loves shaking from tears in front of him, aaand he's letting those feelings go.

He's acknowledging that he really fucking hates bullshit yogi-speak and he's ignoring that.

He's letting all of the muscles in his body relax. No fear, no pain, no nothing.

Raven isn't crying anymore, she's gone still as a statue, both hands gripping at the root of her hair. "Sorry." Her voice is gravely.

"Shit, I'm the one who should be sorry. Lets just- let’s get you to bed, kay?”

He stands up and leaves his hand out for her to take. Raven stares at the hand like it's a riddle, jaw going ridged when she takes it and stumbles to her feet. She crashes hard against his chest and her grip bites hard into the meat of his forearms. Even now she is shockingly strong.

“Want me to carry you?” 

Raven doesn't answer for a long breath and then harps out. “Just hurry up.” 

She's rude like this. "Yeah- yeah, okay."

Gar gets one arm under her knees and doesn't waste time getting her to her bedroom. Raven never unlocks her door, since walls usually aren't a barrier for her. He doubts she even has the key anymore. Instead it's an awkward scramble of setting her back on her feet and shifting into something small enough to fit between the crack in the door and then opening it from the inside.

Raven steps into the room and all but flings herself on the bed. It would be funny if not for the everything else about the situation.

By the time he's finished pulling her boots from her feet and hanging her cloak on the back of the closet door, Raven has buried herself beneath her comforter, apparently skipping proper jammies for the night.

“Thank you.” 

She looks so fucking small beneath the pile of blankets. Breakable. It’s wrong, it’s all fucking wrong. Raven isn’t fragile. Gar hates seeing her like- nope, no. He doesn’t care, it’s all fine. Feelings? What feelings. 

“All in a day’s work ma’am.” Gar tries to wink and realizes he's still got owl eyes, which is a bit overkill for the situation and probably makes him look goofy as hell. He blinks them back into something closer to human then sits on the edge of the bed, smoothing out the twisted blanket on top of her.

“You gonna be okay?” 

“Stop worrying about me.” He would, if she'd stop being so worrisome. Actually, probably not then either if hes being honest.

“Sorry, no can do sweetheart.” 

Gar sprawls out on top of the blankets, head resting on his fist. The whites of her eyes have mostly drained of blood.

“Seriously, are you okay?”

“I'll recover.” 

“That… wasn't what I asked."

"I did what was needed of me." People are always going to need her. Is the problem. Seven fucking billion people on this planet, someone will always be hurt and dying and she can't heal every single one of them.

"Okay, but you also need to be able to get home without passing out mid flight.” 

“Didn’t pass out.” 

“Barely. You can’t save everyone you know.” 

“I know that.”

Thing is, he's worried she doesn't.

Gar bites his lip, he should probably just shut up. “Just… you should be more careful, it's dangerous, not just for you, but for the team, our healer can’t be out of commission all the time.” 

“You sound like Dick.” Good.

“Yeah, well… he’s kind of a smart guy.” 

The corner of her mouth twitches, eyes crinkling. “I’m going to tell him you said that.” 

There's is girl.

“Traitor!” Gar holds a hand to his heart in mock gasp and tries not to feel too happy that she’s looking better already.

Raven runs a finger across the back of his hand, brows pinched in concentration, which is a far cry better than shrieking at his touch. Still, Gar knows she isn't like a normal person. She avoids large crowds, hates hospitals for this very reason: it's constant work for her to keep the feelings of others from soaking into her like a sponge. Just being around other people is an effort, even if it's one that she's practiced her whole life to withstand.

“D’you need me to go?” 

"It's okay." Which means it isn't.

But Gar is selfish. "Kay."

"But can you-" Raven's fingers tap along the back of his hand. "-not be human? For a while?”  Her voice is wrecked with shame. There's another reason why she shouldn't push herself so hard: she hates asking to be accommodated.

“Sure, honey.” Raven prefers cats to dog, specifically the short haired kittenish ones with slightly too big eyes and ears. The crisp edges of his human mind blur as he shrinks down into the tabby. It's easier this way, he doesn't have to work so hard to keep his feelings down.

He can hold onto his human mind when he changes, hell he can even hold on to the crude anatomy of his voice box if he has something especially important to say, but it's like keeping a muscle flexed, the natural inclination is to let it go, slip fully into the cohesive anatomy of the animal.

It's fucking terrifying, if he's being honest. Worse because the deeper he goes the harder it is to even remember to be afraid. It's a miracle he hasn't gotten permanently stuck as a worm yet.

But it is nice, sometimes: to turn his brain off, endless inner monologue smoothing out into baser instincts.

Gar burrows beneath the blankets and curls up against the base of her belly. He likes the way she smells, the cadence of her heartbeat. Fingers run over his head and draw out a rumbling in his chest. Sleep comes quickly.

Chapter Text

Garfield is long gone by the time Raven wakes up, windows left open to bring in the February wind chill. The nausea and vertigo have subsided, but her head still feels like it's been stretched out and stuffed back into her skull. Mouth like a dead corpse that only marginally improves after gulping down the glass of water that has been left by her bedside.

Instead there's another green shape shifter knocking on her door in a timid rap.

"Oh- hi!" M'gann startles as if she hadn't expected Raven to actually open the door. "Sorry were you sleeping? Sorry, I didn't mean to- I'll-"

It's alright. Raven speaks without speaking. M'gann is rather anxious for a telepath. Filtering thoughts into spoken words is still a novel skill for her even after a year earthside.

M'gann relaxes into the invitation. Changeling said you weren't feeling well.

Of course he did. Gar doesn't exactly excel at indiscretion, and even if he did, Raven can't help but feel like he's intentionally trying to get her in trouble. It's not as though Raven's whereabouts were some sort of secret, but she would have enjoyed some privacy on the matter.

Is there anything I can do to help?

No- "No, I'm alright. Thank you M'gann."

"Oh, okay, if you're sure. Um… in that case would you- do you maybe have time today to go over those psionic exercises? If not no worries, I-"

"I have time. Maybe this afternoon?"

"Okay! Yeah, yes! Sounds great. Thanks- thank you."

If you need anything…

I will. Thank you.

The girl scurries back down the hall. Having another telepath on the team again has been… interesting. M'gann's abilities are rather different than Raven's: based in biology rather than magic. And while Raven can delve into the more fine detailed thoughts of others, her powers have never been quite so cerebral. More akin to intuition than mind reading unless she presses further. Meanwhile, M'gann's abilities are instinctual. Her nature is to communicate though thought alone. The Martian concept of privacy is entirely different from humans.

Considering Garfield's inability to keep his mouth shut, Raven isn't eager for the welcome that awaits her in the rec room. She dallies in the shower for longer than strictly necessary and spends too much time considering the ramifications of wearing pajamas outside of her room.

When she does finally build the courage and the constitution to enter the Tower's common area, the kids are all crowded around the kitchen island, the same one she nearly collapsed on the night before.

They are not truly children. 'Kids' is a bad colloquialism she's picked up from Gar and she knows they resent the term. Even the youngest of their newer members is older than Raven first was when the team came together. Raven often thinks of them more as students, though that isn't quite right either. This isn't a school. Raven certainly isn't a teacher.

They are discussing battle tactics, though with the vivaciousness and decorum of a petty argument. So engrossed in their conversation, Raven hopes she can make it through the kitchen without notice.

"Mallah doesn't count, we're talking a normal gorill- Saint Raven!" Apparently not. Seven pairs of eyes land on her at once.

Raven is, to put it lightly, not a fan of that nickname.

"How ya feeling?"

The counter only sits four but they make it work: Emiko fully seated on top of the concrete counter, shoes and all, while Jackson and Virgil lay claim to half a stool each, which is hardly wide enough for even one person to begin with.

"B said you totally killed it last night." Jackson says at the same time as a Jaime says "There's pancakes." with a half full mouth.

Don't any of them have school? She swore at least some of them were attempting higher education. It must be a weekend. Raven can admit she's only gotten worse at keeping track of earth's calendar the longer she's been here.

She shirks them off with as much politeness as she can and makes a b-line for the coffee table. She may as well get this over with now.

"Hey." Dick's eyes barely leave the laptop screen in front of him, when she sits on the sectional across from where he's made a home on the floor.

"Good morning."

"It's hardly morning." He frowns at his screen.

"Where is everyone?" Raven asks, despite the technical fullness of the room. Leave it to Garfield to wake up early to tattle on her and then disappear before the reckoning.

"Beast Boy's… around." Dick glances around the room like he expects to find him standing right next to him. "And Star is up at the capitol speaking with the Governor." He still defaults to aliases like they're seventeen and strangers.

"Speaking?"

"She promised me she'd be civil."

"Uh huh, maybe I should go assist."

"She's fine. If she hasn't killed him by now she's not going to. Besides, I think you should probably take it easy." The phone to Dick's right pings and he begins to tap furiously. 

"I'm fine."

"Uh huh. Gar talked to me."

"I'm sure he did."

"He's worried about you." Gar's concern for her isn't rational. Rooted in misguided affection and a string of tragedies that have encouraged magical thinking to the tune of 'everyone I love dies.' It's better not to encourage him.

"You know how he is." Dick looks up from the screen.

"I'm worried about you." He says that like it's a revelation, but Dick is always worried about everything.

"Don't be."

"I know how important what you're doing is, but… I've seen what happens when people get consumed by their work, by this mission it's not sustainable, even for you." Just like Garfield, Dick has a tenancy to allow his past traumas grow disordered thought patterns.

It's tiresome.

"I'm not consumed, I- perhaps miscalculated my limits yesterday, I won't make that mistake again."

Dick purses his lips and rests his chin on his knuckles. "Okay."

"That's it?"

*beep*

"I trust you. Just… be careful."

"I will." She is always careful.

*beep*

*beep*

*beep*

“You’re quite popular today.”

“Sorry,” Dick flips his phone face down. "Helping Babs with a case."

“The mystery assassin?” Over the past few months, Gotham has been plagued with a mystery string of murders, all directed at the leaders of the city's criminal underbelly.

“No, Red Hood seems to have gone back underground for now, this is more of a personal case. You remember the kid who saved Commissioner Gordon from that gunman a few months ago? Bruce sent her to Barbra to look after. I guess she’s not adjusting that well.” 

“I see. So the case is… parenting advice. Does Kory know?’ 

“About Cassandra? Of course.” 

“I mean about you and ‘Babs’” 

“There’s no 'me and Babs'.” The guilt that rolls off him suggests otherwise.

"Right, of course not."

*beep*

Dick Grayson doesn't want to be here.

Raven wishes she didn't know. She doesn't enjoy being privy to her friends' inner feelings. Doesn't take pleasure in the violation of privacy that is inherent to just her proximity to others. 

But other people come around with their bleeding hearts and their wretched feelings wafting off them like a bad stench, brightly colored auras blinding her vision and revealing inner truths they’d rather kept secret.

And for Dick Grayson, that inner truth is that he wants to go home. Raven has felt it for a long time. Maybe even since he first came tumbling into Jump City with his outgrown uniform and great big neon sign flashing overhead that read ‘I hate my dad’. But it was negligible then. Everyone has a home and past that calls to them, a longing for a place they can't return, Dick was no exception, despite his insistence that he had put that life behind him. 

But it isn't negligible anymore. It has grown to fill up every crevice and crack of his being: Dick Grayson wants to go back home. There's a kid there who is trying to fill his shoes and crashing hard, and a hole in the ground where the one before him went. And there's a girl there, who he isn't supposed to miss, and when he does it curdles like something rotten in his gut, sour and guilty and irrefutable. 

Bruce can handle himself. Is what Dick always says whenever anyone gets too close to pointing out the obvious, days spent on long distance calls trying to talk the other other Robin through navigating the enigma that is the Batman and nights spent pouring over GCPD case files as if they didn't have enough of their own here in Jump, the tight knit brows and terse frown betraying another story. More and more day turned week trips across the country with a flimsy take care of things 'till I get back thrown at whoever he happens to see last.

Bruce can handle himself, but he isn't. He isn’t handling it and things keep getting worse and people keep getting hurt and I'm not there to do anything about it. 

He never says that last part, and Raven doesn’t read minds like that, but she can hear it all the same. 

Raven suspects he would have left by now if Donna hadn't beat him to it. It was perhaps not quite an open secret but at least obvious to Raven that Dick was planning on leaving the team in her care. Donna knew it too which is partly the reason she left.

And now with Victor's 'temporary' leave of absence while aiding the Justice League off-world, it wouldn't be a good time to leave. The trouble, for Dick Grayson, is that there is never going to be a good time.

A green eagle flies through the open tilt window, plastic bag clutched in his talons and lands on the couch with a bounce. "Garage door's jammed again.”

Dick groans. “Really? Again?” 

“Yeah with Vic gone this whole tower’s busted.” Garfield pushes his sunglasses onto the top of his head and pulls out a miraculously intact milk tea from the bag and stabs it with a straw, then procures a second one which he holds out to Raven. It's hardly tea. More akin to sweetened milk. Garfield thinks it's cute to get her the kind that has been dyed purple with root vegetables. The flavor is acceptable.

Garfield bobbles his head, eyes going wide. "You're welcome."

Raven huffs and takes the drink, accepting the unspoken peace offering for the argument she hasn't had the chance to start.

Dick curses. “Damn, okay, I’ll take a look at it later.” 

“Uh-" Gar pauses to take a long sip of his drink. "- you sure that’s a good idea, man? Last time we trusted you with a screwdriver you blew up the microwave.” 

Dick's eyes go wide. “There was a short fuse, that wasn’t my fault!"

"Uh huh."

"Okay fine, I'll ask Conner to look at it."

The slurping sound Gar makes is horrendous."We could call Wally."

"I'm not calling the Flash to fix our mail shoot."

"It's not like it's out of his way. Besides, last time he was here he ate literally everything in the freezer, cold. So, he owes us."

"It's alright guys! I got it!" Conner yells from across the room and is up and running out the door lightening quick.

"It's not nice to eavesdrop!" Gar yells after him, and Conner returns just as quickly. He's nowhere near as fast as Wally, or even Superman, but he still moves with a speed that is unsettling to the eye. Movements all just slightly too quick to be human.

"Sorry, heard my name." Conner says and then is gone again.

Gar shakes his head. "No freaking privacy around here."

The phone on the table begins ringing in earnest. "Sorry, gotta take this- hey, hi-" Dick springs up from the floor and all but runs out of the room.

"Thank you, for-" Raven holds up her tea, the cup has begun to sweat and fog.

"Mhmm." Garfield's head falls back against the sofa, eyes rolling to the side. "Do you wanna talk? About last night."

"Not really."

Gar sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. His worry is still a bright thread tangling in his gut, but it fades under purpling glow of his aura. "M'kay."

"How are you feeling now?"

"Relatively? Much better. Generally? The same way humans feel after overindulging in liquid toxins."

"You could just say hungover you know?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

That pulls a sharp toothed grin out of Garfield and he sits up onto his knees. "You know, I was thinking, maybe we should take a vacation."

"A vacation?"

"Yeah."

"As in, you an me?"

Gar's eyebrows squish together forming a crease where he's been slowly building a permanent crevice over the years. Which she's sure would horrify him if she mentioned. He's horribly vain.

"Yeah. Is that weird?"

It is not weird. Which is perhaps the problem. Raven has considered him a friend, a teammate, for a long time. But she can admit that that friendship evolved into something more than that. Even before they started sleeping together. It's disconcerting how close she's allowed him to get.

"I'm not sure."

"Just for like a weekend or something, I mean come on, when was the last time you even took a vacation."

"We just went to Paris last month."

Gar rolls his eyes like a stage actor. "Yeah, to stop an international crime syndicate. That's not a vacation."

"We also went to Gotham for Christmas."

"Yeah, I also wouldn't classify hanging out with Dick's fucked up family a vacation." That, at least, Raven agrees with. The tension in that mansion left her with a low grade headache that lasted the entire duration of the holiday. "I mean I guess we don't have to go together, I'm sure Kory would be down for a girls trip or ya know, whoever. But I just thought it might be fun."

"Fun?"

"Mhmm. Ever heard of it?"

"Can't say I have."

The look he gives her is entirely too affectionate. "C'mon just think about: you, me, a private beach."

"A private beach? Now it sounds like you're just trying to bribe me."

"Oh I totally am. Is it working?" Gar's shoulders come up to his ears.

The glowing warmth of his love pulses off him in time with his heartbeat.

Raven is going to have to do something about him, sooner or later. She had hoped the issue would resolve itself. Garfield is such a fickle spirit, Raven had hoped that eventually his interests and his affections would fall to someone else. The longer this goes on the more certain she is that will not happen.

It isn't that Raven doesn't return his affection. Quite the opposite. But it's simply irrelevant. Gar is a burning star of passion and unrestrained emotion, sometimes just being around such a vibrant heart is painful. She doesn't mind, she would tolerate the pain. The trouble is that he won't. She's acutely aware of the ways in which he regulates his own inner soul to accomidate her, swallowing down pain and joy in equal measure. To continue letting him to do so, to let that restraint build into a habit that misshapes the boundaries of his soul, would be unconscionable.

"No."

"Hmm… what if I made it a private island? I'm very rich you know? I know it makes some people intimidated but I promise I'm just a normal down to earth guy. No need to be nervous around me."

Raven snorts and snatches the sunglasses out of his hair.

"Hey!" Gar lunges at her but is met with an invisible force that holds him out of reach. Raven, of course, knows nothing about that, and continues to examine the glasses undisturbed.

"Right, you're exceedingly 'down to earth'. How much did these cost?" Raven has never had much of an eye for fashion. Despite lengthy attempts to explain it to her she can still hardly distinguish Gar's designer glasses from the five dollar ones down at the pier.

Raven releases the telekinetic hold and Gar falls nose first into her shoulder. "Ow." He groans and snatches the glasses back, returning him to the safety of his head.

"And they were free by the way. Gucci sent them to me in a merch box." Gar hooks his chin over her shoulder. "So, what'd ya think? Fiji? Barcelona? Santorini? Rio? Tahiti? Cyprus? Kauai? Belize? Jamaica? Bali?" Gar starts humming, "Aruba, Jamaica? ohh I wanna take-"

"You already said Jamaica."

"Hmm? No I- it's a song. Ya know? Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama, what? Nothing? Really? The Beach Boys?"

"Who?"

"Really?"

"Did they sing that brass monkey song?"

"No, no! that's the Beastie Boys, and I'm offended that you didn't know that. No, The Beach Boys. You know, Wouldn't it be nice? California Dreamin'? All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray…"

"These are song titles?"

"God I can't believe you don't know this, Rita loved them, they're like formative to American rock."

"Yes, well, I was raised in a cult in another dimension, so…"

"Pssh, excuses. I bet Kory knows who they are." Gar pulls out his phone and begins to tap on the screen with a vengeance.

"She's not gonna answer you. She's with the Governor."

"God, fuck that guy." Gar shoves his phone back in his pocket and turns to lean over the back of the couch. "Hey, Megs! You know who the Beach Boys are don't you?"

The ambient chatter from the kitchen goes quiet.

"Yes, they're a band of musicians."

Gar swivels back around to glare at her. "See?"

"She read your mind, Gar."

"Actually… I just overheard you, I'm sorry."

"Who are the Beach Boys?" Cassie adds, and now that he's gotten all of their attention it's clear Raven has won.

Jaime pipes up. "Didn't you hear they're a band."

"Well, I've never heard of them." Emiko supplies.

"Oh c'mon? Really? None of you?" The round of shrugs and blank faces send Gar into a tailspin and he flings himself face first onto the couch cushion.

Raven digs her toe into his ribs and he wriggles around to glare at her.

"Terrible news, Garfield, no one knows what the hell you're talking about."

His face twists into a deep pout and a slow puff of air trips out of his mouth.

"We could go to Oaxaca, they've got these sick glowing beaches."

Raven finishes her tea and stands up.

"I'll think about it."

Chapter Text

"Hey… Vic it's me, I guess you're probably out of reception, ha… um, guess I just wanted to check in… uh, hope you're- hope you're all safe. Kay. Love you, man. "

_--_ =- _

"Hey man, do you know where the fucking… never mind, you're probably getting shot at by aliens right now… "

—-_=–__

"Hey. I just- um… hope you're okay. Dick said the watchtower can't get through either so at least I know you're not ignoring me. So… uh… yeah. Hope- hope you're okay. "

_—•_._=-

"Hey, uh- not sure if you're keeping track of Earth time out there but, happy birthday. We all miss you and hope um- yeah. Come home soon, Kay?"

=_._-—–_

The explosion sends the Titans flying across the wreckage. Red Arrow slams into solid glass and falls to the ground. “What the hell Conner?!”

“That thing was going to get Cass!”

“What the hell happened to the plan? You can’t just bulldoze through-” Red Arrow yells as she stumbles back to her feet.

“The plan that clearly wasn’t working?” Superboy flies over the demolished cars bug carcasses.

“It would have worked if you-”

Gar groans into his hand. “Okay, this is getting too sad to watch. Tower, end simulation.” The cars and debris disappear into the smooth grey walls of the training arena, remaining hovering bugs fading into nothing.

“That was bad guys. I’m going to run it again from the top. Try agreeing on a plan before acting this time.” The PA speakers screech when Gar speaks, he adds it to the long list of things to ask Vic to look at when he gets back.

The team lets out a uniform groan, which is the very first thing any of them have been on the same page about all day.

“From the top? They’re going to hate you.” Raven snorts, feet pulled up to lean against the wall of the observation deck.

Gar shrugs. “Nah, I’ll just tell them it was your idea.”

Raven rolls her eyes at that. “You shouldn’t be so hard on them, they’ve been doing good work.”

Raven's one to talk, if anyone holds them to too high of a standard- well, it's Dick. But then it's Raven.

“They need to learn how to work together. If they can’t figure it out in here how are they ever going to in a real battle.”

“They’re just kids.” 

Thing is, they're not. Emiko was fifteen when she joined the Titans. The youngest person since Gar himself (if you don't count any clone fuckery). And that was two years ago. Cassie's going to be old enough to drink in a few months, a terrifying prospect in it's own right.

“They’re older than we were when this started, it’s time they started acting like it.” 

“Right, because we never had any problems. You especially were so great at following orders.”

“No, we were also a mess, which is why Dick rode our asses so hard, so that we didn’t get ourselves killed in a real battle.”

Raven's eyebrows hike up and her mouth presses into a thin line.

“…what?” 

“You sound like him.” The fact that she doesn't have to say who 'him' is only adds insult to injury.

“Whatever." It's not his fucking fault. If Dick didn't spend all his time distracted with who the hell knows, Gar wouldn't have to pick up the slack. He isn't supposed to be that guy. Sure as hell doesn’t want to be. 

The simulation starts up again: a recreation of an old battle against Killer Moth. The fake city scape is swarming with the overgrown bugs and the kids waste no time in their attack.

Jaime has the best chance against this sort of enemy, Jackson would fare okay if this were a real fight, since the moths wouldn't be able to fly with wet wings, but that's a weakness that the simulated bugs don't have. Without any way to throw large blasts the rest of the team doesn't fare as well against an enemy with this kind of numbers, even ones with relatively low tactical abilities. Conner could survive on the defensive indefinitely, but doesn't have the control to take them all down without massive collateral damage.

“Ya know, I feel kind of bad using this simulation. I think it might offend Silkie.”

“I don’t think Silkie cares.” 

“He might! You don’t know.” People always underestimate the emotional range of animals, but, in this case, Raven might have a point. Gar is just shocked the little guy is still alive.

“We could switch them out with parademons.”

Gar shutters at the mere mention. “Ew no. I don’t even want to think about parademons. Way too depressing.”

“Well, then I'm afraid the bugs are here to stay.”

Raven goes inhumanly still, and Gar catches the glance M'gann gives their way, despite the one way mirror hiding them.

"Cheater."

"I'm coaching, is that not my intended purpose?" Raven’s intended purpose is to keep him losing his damn mind while sitting in this cramped box. But tomato tomahto. 

Emiko shoots a grappling arrow across the arena and then dashes to the other side. She shoots another, then another, and another, until a web of linewire tangles the entire arena.

“What is Red doing?”

"I… don't know."

In unison they all drop to the floor, except Virgil, who lights up the web, sending all the bugs dropping to the ground. The fall graphic, including the schleping sound they make when they hit the floor, is a little bit overkill, Vic shoulda been a VFX artist.

As the last of the holographic bugs hit the ground Gar hits the mic again. “Great job everyone! Let’s call it a day.”

The door separating the observation deck and the arena opens as the simulation dies, and a trail of sweat drenched teenagers slog into the observation room. 

“Man, I am beat.” Jamie yells through his helmet, shrinking open to reveal his burning red face.

“No kidding.” Emiko groans and rotates her shoulder with a wince. 

“Yeah, that, was brutal.” Virgil’s targeted glare isn't subtle. 

“Sorry guys, I know that was kind of a tough one. But doesn’t it feel sweet now that you’ve beat it.” Yeah, even he wouldn't buy that load of garbage.

“Psh. You wouldn’t be saying that if you were in there with us. All you guys did was sit out here and watch.” Virgil… does have a point. Gar makes a point to kick the bag of chips he'd brought with him further under the control panel and out of sight.

“I agree with Changeling. I for one am so glad we finally got passed that level.”M’gann grins, which, okay, M'gann is a little bit of a suck up, but Gar does appreciate the backup. 

“I didn't think it was that bad.” That earns Conner uniform glares from his teammates.

“Okay okay we hear you, why don’t you all go get cleaned up and Rae and I will take you all out for pizza? Reward for a job well done?" Gar could definitely go for a pizza, and he can't even remember the last time the whole team went out for dinner together. Kory and Dick are probably done with their meeting with the Commish by now, which would really make it a team outing.

But everyone goes weirdly still and silent.

Jaime's face pulls into a wince as he walks backwards towards the door. "oooh yeah, no. We've sorta got plans."

"We really appreciate it though-" M'gann says.

"Yeah, we- we'll definitely cash in on that another time, kay bye!" Cassie all but pushes the rest of them out the door, which closes shut behind her.

Raven is very indiscreetly laughing into her cloak.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Would you want to hang out with us after that?"

Oh god, it's worse than just turning into Dick, he's turning into the uncool boss no one wants to hang out with. He’s fucking Michael Scott.

He lets his head fall over the back of his chair and groans. "Ugh. Do you want to go to pizza then?"

Gar will be honest, if she says no, he's going to lose it.

"Not really."

Fuck.

"Seriously?"

Raven stretches her arms out in front of her like a big cat who isn't at all concerned over the fact that she's just psychologically obliterated him with two little words.

"I'm not that hungry." She shrugs. "Besides, you heard them all, they all have some very important plans."

"Yeah, I heard, don't have to rub it in."

"Which means, the tower will be rather quiet, don't you think?" Raven stands and twists her torso, which pops like bubble wrap. She pushes her chair in and then leans over the back of his, dark hair tickling his nose. "But if your heart is truly set, we can go out for pizza, after."

And then Raven melts completely into the floor, leaving him alone in the observation deck.

Gar gasps out a laugh. That girl is gonna be the goddamn death of him.

…

Gar swears it's not always like this. They do, sometimes, have completely normal sex. He'd says it's the default, in fact. The thing about living with a bunch of people with superhuman hearing is that you have to be really, really quiet. Even that's more about the illusion of privacy, considering superclone can hear like ten thousand miles. Even Gar's natural hearing is way too strong for his own good sometimes, he can't even count the number of times he's heard Dick and Kory, or Cassie and- eugh, he doesn't even want to think about that. He's turned himself into a mollusk on more than one occasion to avoid hearing that.

Point is, being overheard is basically inevitable, even with the super sound proofing that all the rooms have going on. And if he's going to be overheard, he'd rather not be heard doing, well, this.

It takes him a good twenty minutes to track her down. Ten because he waits until he hears the others all fly off the island. Another ten because despite being one of the world's best trackers (a self designated title, but definitely true) Raven can teleport (aka cheat) and every time he gets close she disappears to some opposite corner of the tower.

When he finally catches up to her, Raven is rifling through the junk on his shelf like it’s an antique shop. 

"Oh, hi."

That's all she has for him?

"Oh, hi? Oh hi?"

"You look a little winded, Garfield, are you alright?" He slams her back against the wall in a move that is not exactly gentle.

"Shut the fuck up." The coy front falls away the moment their lips meet and she pushes back into him with just as much force. He’s a little disappointed that they’re in his room. He was sort of looking forward to catching her somewhere with a counter to bend her over. Gar settles for roughly spinning her around and pushing her back against the wall. 

Raven just laughs. What the fuck is wrong with her? It’s like she’s trying to piss him off. (Which, she is. And the fact that it’s working so well only makes him angrier)

He needs get his teeth around her neck, around her breasts, he's sinking so deep into heat driven delirium he almost can't comprehend the sensation of pain when Raven spins around and pulls his head back by the root of his hair.

"If you rip my suit I'll fucking kill you." She says, as if she's not the one who sent him into a tailspin to begin with, as if she didn't start the game and isn't exactly where she wants him.

God, she smells so fucking good.

The fabric shears like wet paper beneath between his fingers. "Oops."

Which is how he ends up flat on his back, arms held down by an invisible force as Raven bears down on him. Or into him. She's let the veil between their minds fall enough that he can't tell his own body's sensations from hers. She doesn't do this often, either, and for good reason, the over stimulation is blinding, fries his entire fucking nervous system.

He's pretty sure he's babbling. String of swears pouring from his mouth and falling on deaf ears. His hand slides into her hair- no, wait, his hands are still glued to the pillow above his head. Raven tugs his head to the side and latches her teeth onto the crook of his neck. If he were of more sound mind he might be having a bigger crisis over the ramifications of tasting his own sweat on her tongue. As it stands he might actually destabilize on a molecular level. Which is a very real possibility for him so he's trying hard to keep it together.

Gar reaches out with fingers that aren't his and digs into the muscle just below his collar bone and then Raven is the one who moans and God, she's so fucking beautiful. The lights in the room are flickering in time with the rhythm of her hips except maybe that's his burnt out optic nerve giving up on him.

A thumb rolls over his nipple, cold brush creating a twitch that spasms through his entire body and Raven screams.

Raven screams and Gar promptly excuses himself from this plane of existence for a few minutes.

When the full body twitching ends and he remembers how to move his fingers and toes, Raven has already pulled a t-shirt over her head and is wiping him down with a damp towel. He's becoming increasingly aware of his poor bedside manner. That is why they don't do this often.

"Sorry… I think you killed my brain for a minute."

"That's okay, I don't think you were getting much use out of it anyway."

"Ouch. That's cold."

"Low hanging fruit, Garfield." Raven lies down on her side, hand running over his shoulder. Her hands are always so cold, Gar doesn't know if that's a demon thing or a Raven thing but it's a boon to his fever hot skin anyway.

"Seriously, I - um…" He wants to tell her that she's completely ruined sex with other people for him, but even that seems like it'd be teetering dangerously too close to things they don’t talk about.

"That was fun." He says and hates himself immediately after.

"Sorry I kind of turned into a useless pile of mush."

"You did exactly what I wanted of you." She says like he’s some sort of show pony that won first prize.

"Oh, right, I- um, you're welcome then."

God, he’s such a loser. 

"Do you still want pizza?"

"Yeah, just give me a sec." Raven nods and vanishes from his bed. Honestly, it's easier to drag himself out of it once she's gone. Gar tugs on the nearest (mostly) clean clothes and grabs the ring off his bed side table.

When Raven returns she's forgone his t-shirt, which is a little bit of a travesty, (though he notes that she didn’t actually return it) in favor of jeans and a pale pink sweater.

"You're wearing your holo ring?" Raven frowns.

"Yeah, I- um- yeah." He doesn't have a good excuse other than that he doesn't want to deal right now. "That okay?"

"Of course."

Raven passes for human most of the time anyway so it's only fair. And the fact that she's really played up the whole 'mistress of darkness' thing over the years helps. Even people who would recognize her face usually don't. Not when she walks around in pink sweaters and rainbow scrunchies in her hair.

Unfortunately for Gar, no amount of wardrobe sleight of hand can distract from the fact that he's bright fucking green and not to sound like a diva but some days he just wants to not be recognized.

Raven teleports them to the alley outside of his favorite pizza joint and they hide out in the oversized booth in the back corner.

"Did you know-" Gar says though the half of a slice stuffed in his mouth. "Roosters don't have dicks?"

Raven eats her pizza with a fork and a knife like a fucking psychopath. Having a slice of pizza pinned with a fork sort of undermines the scathing look she sends him.

"… why would I know that?"

Gar shrugs, "I dunno. It's just ironic, ya know, 'cuz like- cocks, but they don't even have them."

It's not like she eats all food with a fork and knife, it would almost be better if she did. Like yeah, weird behavior, but at least there's a principal to it. But she's perfectly willing to eat other finger food with her actual fingers. It's something about pizza in particular, which makes it all the more diabolical.

"Right, of course."

He did see her eat a burger with a fork before, which, also despicable behavior, but at least he sort of gets that, especially with those bougie burgers that come impaled with a massive steak knife and fall apart as soon as you pick them up.

Besides, that was only once. The pizza thing is every time.

"That's why people always end up with surprise roosters because they're super hard to tell apart as chicks, and then one day it's like, surprise. Cock. Except not because, ya know."

"No dick?" Raven supplies.

"No dick. Basically no birds do, except for like… ducks. Now that's a nightmare. Like- you know that spiral pasta? Cavaparti or something? Like that. Absolute nightmare."

When she's finally down to the crust she does at least drop the fork and tears off the corner of the crust and pop it into her mouth. God, what the fuck is wrong with her?

"Are you planning to talk about bird genitalia the entire time we're here?"

Gar shrugs. He wasn't planning on it exactly. He's not really even paying attention to what he's saying, he's sort of just pulling facts out of his mouth the same way a magician pulls a rabbit out of a hat but it's always the same rabbit and actually the rabbit is starting to get a little old and tired and weary of being forced to live in a hat all the time.

And okay, maybe dick facts aren't everyone's idea of good go-to conversation filler but honestly that's not his problem.

"Nah, thought I’d move on to mammals. Did you know that chimpanzees have spikes on their dicks? Which is just like crazy 'cuz they're like, basically humans. Like imagine how freaky that would be if humans had kept that- well I guess it would probably seem normal then, but still, weird as hell."

Raven's head tilts a full forty five degrees as she sits in judgement like someone who isn't a fork and knife pizza eater.

"The inside of your mind must be terrifying."

He'd just like to state for the jury that he spends a totally normal amount of time thinking about animal dicks. Honestly, least of his issues.

"Oh babe, you have no idea."

"I do have some idea." Raven snorts and bites on her lower lip.

"Shhhh, I don't like to think about that. Oh! And did you know that all female Crocuta crocuta, uh- spotted hyenas, have lady dicks?"

"Gar-"

"No, it’s actually pretty cool. They all have these like fake- well fake in the sense that they're not actually able to like impregnate anyone. But they get hard and everything. And they pee out of them." Gar tears another bite off his pizza.

“They don't even have vaginas, they give birth out of their fake dicks. Like the world's worst kidney stone." Gar shivers and tries not to think about that. Female hyenas actually have a really high maternal mortality rate because of it, but that’s kind of dark so he doesn’t bring it up. 

"And you wonder why the others don't want to hang out with you."

"Oh fuck off, I am a delight. I mean, my best friend did go all the way to space to get away from me but that's…" Gar doesn't have a punchline, and the mood responds much too quickly to the silence.

Raven leans back against the booth and crosses her arms. "Victor didn't leave because of you."

Well he didn't stay because of me, either. Gar doesn't say. Because that would be pathetic. It isn't like he's bitter that Victor is off saving the universe. That would also be pathetic.

And now Raven is frowning at him with that look she gets when she's trying to pretend she's minding her own business and not mucking around in other people's private feelings. Which is great. Gar spends enough time worrying about Vic as it is: hoping he's not dead, wishing a little bit that he is because at least that would mean he's not just ignoring Gar, then feeling like absolute shit for even thinking that, because what the fuck is actually wrong with him?

And it's not like Raven worrying about him worrying about Vic is going to make anything better. Vic will still be in space and Gar will still be the biggest piece of shit on the planet.

“He’s coming back.” Is what Raven finally says.

"Assuming he's not dead."

"He's not. He has a boom tube built into his hand, if anything were to go wrong he'd get out of there."

"Right, because you've never been too injured to teleport?" Gar snaps and- shit, he's really not trying to fight with her right now. "Sorry, yeah, I know he can take care of himself."

But that doesn't mean he's coming back. That's the horrible, ugly part of all of this. It's not like this is the first time the Justice League has called, and every time Vic's answered. Even if he does come back safe and sound, which he will, it’s only a matter of time before he goes to the JLA full time. Which is super, actually. Vic is probably having a great time on his big intergalactic adventure with the world’s mightiest heroes or whatever. Couldn’t happen to a more deserving guy.

If it isn't obvious, Gar is super happy for him.

"Gar." Raven says in a way that really means 'Garfield, I'm worried about you, I can sense your mental unease and would like to help get to the root of this psychological distress because I'm not willing to be your girlfriend but I will still psychoanalyze you at dinner.'

"Look, can we not fucking talk about this right now? It's ruining my appetite."

And then Raven sighs in a way that says 'I'm very disappointed in your refusal to address your feelings and take steps to grow and better yourself by talking through your anxieties and maladaptive thought patterns, this is why you're emotionally stunted.'

"Yeah- yes. Sorry." She rips another piece off her crust and chews it.

Good.

Great.

Super.

"…That ruined your appetite but not all the talk of phalluses?"

"Oh honey, dicks could never ruin my appetite."

Chapter Text

"Hey,…you awake?"

"…yes."

"I need a favor."

Raven drags herself from the cradle of her bed. She rarely experiences true sleep, lucidity following her even in her dreams. And she's a light sleeper by trade, the need to jump from deep sleep to combat ready has done a number on her ability to ever feel fully rested. Still, the transition from the dark, warm embrace of her duvet to the bright and climate controlled cool of the hallway is not something that could be described as pleasant.

Dick is pacing in the hallway outside of her room with bloodshot eyes and skin gaunt in the violent fluorescent lights. "Hey, hi- um."

The roar of panic inside him makes it difficult for Raven to pick out any singular emotion. Fear, anger, desperation, hope: they cloud together in a rush of energy all fighting for dominance. Beyond her empathic abilities, she can smell it on him, the stress rolling off him in thick beads of sweat gone stale and cold.

It frightens her.

Not that she's never seen him stressed, or panicked, or grief stricken. But Dick is something of a canary, and his lost nerve is a sign that something has gone terribly wrong.

"Dick, what's going on?" His face goes through a series of contortions, arrested starts to words unspoken.

"I have to go to Gotham." He finally says, which is hardly an answer. She'd press him on it if not for their long standing pact of no questions asked for favors called on in the dark. When shit goes to hell, literally, he doesn't press her for answers, so it's only fair she does the same for him.

"Alright."

"Um, sorry, I meant-can you take me to Gotham? I know it's late and- I sorry, I shouldn't have asked. What am I-"

"Dick, stop. Yes. I can take you. Is everything alright? Should I get the team?"

"No, no. Everything's fine- I mean, it's- uh- family stuff." He huffs like he's said something funny, though he hasn't. Stuff with Dick's family is hardly ever 'fine'.

"Okay. Now?"

Dick looks at his own shoes, he's still in yesterday's clothes, and drags a hand through his quickly greasing hair. "Um, preferably."

"Okay, just- I'll go change."

The Wayne Family Manor is no less intimidating than it was the first time Raven saw it. And she feels like no less of an intruder, even after holidays spent in one of the luxurious guest rooms at the behest of a personal invitation from Bruce Wayne. It's as though the ground itself rejects her presence.

They land inside the grand entrance, Dick stumbling into the receiving table as though he's never traveled interdimensionally. The lights are out. The air stale and cold in a way that makes it hard to believe any person actually lives here.

"Hello?" The sound of Dick's voice ricochets back down the staircase.

"Should I take you down to the cave?" Raven prefers not to go down there. It's hexed to the brim with wards intended to make it impervious to magical attacks. Child's play, for Raven, but it still makes her head ache.

"Dick!" The current Robin runs into the foyer, boots squeaking across the marble floor as he skids to a stop. It's like looking at a memory: down to the dirt stained green and red suit, torn at the shoulder, blood matting into black hair. She doesn't remember Dick ever looking this young.

"I-" If Dick is awash with panic, Tim Drake is drowning in it. Yet, she senses his relief. Admiration towards his predecessor that casts bright light, as though Dick is here to deliver some sort of salvation. He wants to cling to Dick like an injured child clings to their mother, instead his spine straightens like a soldier who has recognized his commanding officer. "Thank you for coming."

"Where is he?" The commanding front Dick pulls on like a well worn cloak cracks under the waiver in his voice.

Another lurks in the shadows. So still and silent, she has crept into the corner of the foyer nearly imperceptibly. Only the color of her soul gives her away. She is not panicked, like Robin. Heartbeat calm, mind smooth. There is curiosity, yes. Concern also. A drop of malaise rooted in uncertainty. She wishes to help, has no concept on how to start, so she sticks to her shadow.

Raven is familiar with such sentiments.

Tim nods towards his feet, as if there were anywhere else you might find a bat besides his cave, "Alfred's with him."

"Okay." Dick squeezes Raven's shoulder. "Thank you."

"Do you need my help? If Batman is injured I can-"

"No, no it's fine." It might not be fine. The last time Raven had assisted the Batman in healing his wounds, he had not exactly been grateful for the interference.

"Would you like me to wait?"

"No, I'll… catch a flight home. But, I know that was a big jump, if you need to rest a while there's a guest room..." Raven's ability to travel interdimensionally does not strain with distance, Dick knows that. It's as hollow of an offer as it is polite.

"No, that's alright, thank you. Just, call me if you need anything. Okay?"

"I will."

Dick doesn't even wait to see her off, just heads straight into the house, with Tim in tow.

Raven lurks in the foyer with the silent one. She's waiting, guarding her new family from the unknown entity.

"You'll look after them, won't you?"

The shadow doesn't answer.

Raven disappears into another dimension.

Its still the middle of night on the west coast, but its sunrise in New York. First light crests over the artificial skyline and the winter barren trees when Raven lands on the bottom steps of a tired brownstone.

The door opens before she has a chance to knock. "Hi Raven."

Lilith Clay smirks at her own successful premonition, she's neither displeased nor surprised to see Raven, despite the early hour or the unplanned visit.

"May I come in?"

"Be rude if you didn't, I'll tell D you're here." Lilith says nothing, but Donna comes running into the cramped living room half dressed as she shrugs a terracotta flannel over her shoulders.

Donna Troy is displeased to see her.

"Oh fuck. What happened?" Donna's hair is soaking wet and begins to drip onto the ancient hardwood.

Raven would like to say the hostility is warranted, but she does have a tendency to arrive unannounced with bad news like an unholy omen of death.

"Relax. This is a social call."

Donna's eyes narrow at her like she isn't sure if she believes that. Raven isn't completely sure she believes herself either.

The true telepath in the room's eyes glance back and forth between the two of them and while Raven doesn't enjoy having her mind invaded, she does appreciate the assistance. Besides, Lilith's signature in her mind is a familiar presence, she enjoys the nostalgia of it.

Finally, Donna's condemnation breaks and she lets out a sigh.

"Well in that case-" Donna pulls her into a tight hug that lifts her onto the tips of her feet. "Hi, it's good to see you."

"You too, Donna." Raven is released back to her own feet.

"So, and no offense, but if the world isn't on fire, what are you doing here? You do know there are these things called phones right? Coulda called first."

Raven doesn't have a cellphone. Given her ability to be anywhere at anytime, it hardly seems useful. Besides, she's seen the way her friends seem to obsess over those little devices, down right addicted, if Gar is any evidence. A cellphone would be nothing more than a massive waste of time. The Tower is equipped with a state of the art computer system that is more than adequate for anything she might otherwise utilize one for anyway. Not to mention she already has a watch and earpiece capable of intergalactic communication, which Dick insists she keep on her at all times for 'saftey'.

So alright, perhaps she could have called first.

"It was a spontaneous decision. I hope I'm not intruding."

"Awe honey, you're never an intrusion. But isn't it like… four a.m. in JC right now?"

"It is."

"So you just woke up in the middle of the night and thought you'd hop over to the other side of the country?"

"Dick needed me to take him to Gotham."

Donna clicks her tongue together. "Ah."

"I've got a shoot in Metropolis at one. Let's get brunch. Lil, you in?"

Lilith pulls out her own cellphone and frowns. "Sorry, I have a session at 8:30. Have fun though."

"Tragic." Donna sighs and makes a face at Lilith, who makes one back and then it's clear they are communicating telepathically because Lilith lets out a startled laugh and Donna snorts.

"'Kay, give me like… twenty minutes and we can go." Donna disappears down the hall.

Raven drops down to the ancient couch, cream paisley pattern that she suspects was once white. The apartment itself has a faint yet distinct smell of rotting wood. Overhead, she can hear the neighbors' footsteps creaking along the floorboards. It is certainly an interesting choice in a dwelling.

From the kitchen, Lilith laughs under her breath, but it's a mere ten feet away so Raven hears it anyway.

"Believe it or not but this is prime real estate in Brooklyn."

The fridge is positioned in such a way that Lilith has to squeeze against the wall to look inside it. How anyone would willingly choose to live here Raven can't quite understand.

"You've been living in that fancy tower too long, it's not that bad." Lilith says, as the sound of the hair dryer starts up from Donna's room, and the lights begin to flicker. "Okay, sure, it's a little shabby, but it's… I dunno, historic? Normal? It reminds me of that basement we used to work out of before the first tower went up."

Historic is one word for it.

Donna takes her to a cafe two blocks from the apartment that serves french toast made out of stale donuts, and tea with puns in the names. It gives Raven the impression of the sort of place that might end up on a list of 'hidden gems to try in Brooklyn" despite being not all that hidden. She feels under dressed in her jeans and T-shirt, even though there is a man wearing cartoon flannel pajamas three tables over.

"This place is nice."

Donna snorts. "Yeah, I took Roy here and he called it a cesspool of glitter infused hipster shit."

"Hipster?"

"Right, forget you missed the two thousands. It's like um… you know what, don't worry about."

Raven suspects this might be one of those things that Donna has forgotten is actually an inside joke between herself and the others from their days playing JLA dress up, because Raven is quite knowledgeable about Earth's culture history prior to her arrival and has never heard of these 'hipsters' before.

Donna doesn't allow Raven any time to clarify on that point though. "Anyway, that's the last time I let Roy crash on my couch, I know we lived together for years, but I forgot how disgusting men are. Told him I'm implementing a strict no boys allowed rule. Li-li can stay but next time he's getting a damn hotel room. You'd think babies would cause a bigger mess than a grown man, but-" Donna points her fork at Raven. "You'd be wrong."

Raven hums. Materially, Donna hasn't changed much. She's still beautiful, still wickedly honest, still carting around that camera like it might save her.

Still willing to take any and every opportunity to embarrass Roy Harper. Even when he isn't present.

Internally though, Raven hardly recognizes her. The ever present melancholy of her soul has dissipated.

"You're happy here."

It isn't a question and Donna huffs with a nod. "Yeah- yes. I am."

"I'm glad."

Admittedly, she hadn't been sure Donna would find what she was looking for by giving up the team. It hadn't been the first time any one of them had made an attempt at a civilian life. But starting over doesn't always feel the way you expect it will.

The french toast donut turns out to be not so bad. It's not nearly as sweet as she'd feared and the spice blend pairs well with the the fresh cream. The rose tea she chose is slightly over brewed but not entirely unpleasant, though she could have done without the whole rose petals placed on top of her cup.

Raven has to cheat gravity to keep all the liquid in her teacup at the sound of Donna's camera shutter.

Donna bites her lip and squints at the little screen on the back of the camera as Raven attempts not to choke on her tea. "Hmm, not bad."

"Didn't know there'd be paparazzi here, I would've brushed my hair."

"Don't worry, private collection only." Donna squints again. "Well, maybe I'll send Gar a copy. You guys still fucking?"

That time, Raven chokes on her tea in earnest. "Donna!"

Raven doesn't consider herself squeamish regarding topics of sexual intercourse, which would practically be an impossibility after years of living with Kory. But that in no way means she wishes to discuss the topic in public dining areas, and frankly, she's exasperated at frequency at which her friends insist on doing so.

"What? Oh don't tell me you're not? Talk about awkward." Donna extends the syllables and glances at the sky.

Raven suddenly can't recall how she ever missed her company.

"No, we- I mean, yes, we are… still doing that."

Donna leans back in her chair and says, "Good," like she had anything to do with it.

"Good?"

"Yeah." Donna shrugs. "He's good for you."

That's one way to look at it, she supposes.

"Yes, well, I'm not sure I'm good for him."

"Oh shut up." Donna rolls her eyes. "I mean it, that kid's lucky to even share the ground you walk on."

Donna has spent too much time on Themyscira.

"I think that may be a bit dramatic."

"Hmmm, no, I don't think so."

The unequivocal support is sweet, but Donna doesn't understand. She mistakes Raven's concerns as a chronic self esteem issue, which, really isn't it.

Gar doesn't understand either: believes he can just slam two wrong puzzle pieces together over and over until one day they fit, torn and jagged edges be damned. As if Raven is some princess in a fairytale who can be fixed through the power of true love. And if Raven were truly noble she would have put a firm end to things a long time ago instead of letting Gar emotionally birching himself out of some misguided sense of love.

Anyway, the whole subject makes her nascently angry in a way that borders on dangerous so she puts an abrupt end to that line of conversation.

"I'm worried about Dick."

Donna laughs brightly, "Subtle. Okay, yeah, fine, what the hell happened?"

"I don't really know, to be honest. He woke me up in the middle of the night and said he needed to go to Gotham, wasn't much time for an explanation."

"Kory didn't go with him?"

"No."

Donna shakes her head. "Bastard. You know for all that talk about not wanting to be like the old man he sure is running face first into it."

"I know. Has he talked to you at all?"

"Not really. I mean, we talk, but not about anything serious. He mostly just calls me to gossip about Harper."

"So he hasn't said anything about Gotham?"

"What about it? That it's a perpetual shit show?"

"About moving home."

Donna frowns. "Dick doesn't want to move back to Gotham."

She says it with the sort of conviction that almost makes Raven doubt her own observations. "He thinks Bruce needs help."

"Bruce Wayne does need help. Like of the psychological kind. Batman doesn't need help."

"Dick thinks so."

Donna sits back in her chair. "You think he wants to leave the Titans?"

"I know he does."

"You think he should." Not a question.

"I think Gotham needs him more than the Titans do."

"Is that why you came? To get me to what? Call him up and tell him to quit the team?" With a restaurant as busy as this one, it's easy to let the cacophony of emotions wash into a white noise that Raven ignores. She hasn't been paying attention, and by the time she recognizes the fragility in Donna's voice it's too late.

"No. No, I'm sorry. That isn't why I came. I shouldn't have made it seem that way." Someone always needed something from Donna Troy. It made the top of the list of reasons why she didn't want to be Donna Troy anymore. "I'm sorry. I'm here because you're my friend. I'm sorry I haven't been a very good one lately."

"Meh, you're alright." Donna kicks her foot beneath the table. "Besides, resurrecting someone kind of gets you a free pass on shitty friend behavior."

Raven taps her fingers against the ridge of her teacup. "Don't be so dramatic, you weren't dead."

"Ah I stand corrected, in that case, you're paying the tab."

It's still dark when she returns to Jump City. There is a chilling wind that blows over the roof of the tower, unyielding in the sunless night. It is entirely unpleasant, yet ideal for this sort of meditation. Raven sits on the edge of the physical realm, teetering between her body and the astral plane, ignoring the physical discomfort to the best of her ability.

And she does have quite the ability.

Azar used to train her in the face of increasingly upsetting circumstances, conditioning her to ignore her anger and fear, even physical pain. It had been as cruel as it had been necessary. At least, Azar believed it to be. Azar had always made it clear to Raven that she didn't deserve what had happened to her, that it wasn't fair and it wasn't her fault and yet she must endure it anyway. She needed to be at peace with her own suffering, lest the rage over the injustices of her very existence consume her.

Raven doesn't know if she believes that anymore. The experiences she's been able to have, the ability to feel, is beyond anything she could have imagined back in Azarath. It tempts her to wonder if there was another way, though she doesn't like to think of what ifs. If there had been another, better way, it is only another thing for her to find peace with.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

It takes Raven a moment to differentiate the sound of the voice from the breeze. The sun has broken through the sea layer and Kory is hovering by the access door in a floral silk dressing gown. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not.”

“Thanks, I think the winter is getting to me.” Jump City is entirely the wrong climate for the Tamaranian. Especially in the winter months when the coastal overcast becomes a permanent fixture. In the winter, Kory spends much more time flying solitary above the cloud line, or finding reasons to be anywhere other than here.

Kory mimics Raven’s pose and falls silent. Raven counts. One, two, three…

On thirty six, the silence breaks. “Did he say anything to you?”

She lasted longer than Raven expected. “Just that he didn’t need my help. Or didn’t want it. Did he tell you what-“

“No, I was still asleep. I think he was attempting to be courteous." Dick's good manners are going to get him killed one of these days.

Kory slips the collar of her dressing gown down over her shoulders and closes her eyes to the sun. The sun brightens her spirit quickly, yet her anger is still a cool simmer lashing against her heart and begging for a release. Kory is the kind of person who can afford her anger.

"I just wish he-" Kory huffs. "He insists on doing everything alone and I- sorry, never mind, I'm interrupting your meditation."

"It's alright." Raven is used to the interruptions.

"It's just, I would've gone with him, if he'd asked. I would have gone even if he didn't, honestly."

"Say the word and I'll drop you off at the manor."

"No, no it's fine. I'm fine." She seems very fine.

Kory smashes her eyes closed with a brutal determination and doesn't say anything else until her next interruption. Kory can't be entirely blamed for the ringing sound that emits from her pocket.

"Oh! Sorry." Kory fumbles with the phone from her pocket and holds the phone inches from her face. "Sorry. Hello?"

"Hey, so uh- crazy thing. I saw Raven this morning and it just kind of got me thinking, and um- Di is in space so she's not using the jet so I just- can you prep the helipad for landing?"

Chapter Text

     j.c.amp642: Are you ever afraid of death?

"Oh. Jeeze, what a question, I mean I think the end comes for all of us. You just gotta live for the moment you know."

Gar is supremely aware that he sounds like a massive tool, but what else is supposed to say? Yes, of course he's afraid of death. Who the hell isn't?

If he were a better superhero he might say something like 'it's my duty to protect the lives of others, and if that means sacrificing my own that's not something I fear.'

But as it stands, he's not a very good superhero.

"Besides, we've got a pretty good healer on the team, so I don't get too worried about that kind of stuff."

'That kind of stuff' being death. Okay, now he really sounds like a tool.

    batz4rl: He's talking about Raven

    somerandomdudee: Is it true that you're dating????

    j.c.amp642: It is true, I saw them together at Sal's, they're totally a couple!

    papaguaiii: awww! I thought BB and Wondergrl were together, she's always in his videos

Ew.

    anne_bowlin: Wonder Girl is a lesbian you dipshit.

    the_ghost_in_ur_bathroom: since when???

    anne_bowlin: literally everyone knows that

    the_ghost_in_ur_bathroom: just because she's an Amazon doesn't automatically make her a lesbian

    batz4rl: you shouldn't speculate on people's identities. this is actually what's wrong with the world.

    anne_bowlin: it's not speculation, she literally is.

This is why Gar hates live Q&As.

"Hey. Hey- who wants to say hi to Blue Beetle? Hey Blue say hello." Gar pulls his arm around Jaime and pulls him into the frame as if he just happened to walk by and hadn't been hovering just off camera for the last five minutes waiting for Gar's cue.

"Um… hello!"

    the_ghost_in_ur_bathroom: Is that his face?

    bluboyo736: Of course it's not his face, dumbass

   j.c.amp642: It's a mask.

   julemiester99: Is BB an alien??

Gar says "no" at the same time that Jaime says "yes."

"Ha- well guess I'm not the only BB around here anymore." Gar says, like an idiot.

    papaguaiii: so blue beetle is an alien?

Jaime lights up. Well, his voice does, his mask doesn't leave much room for facial expressions. "Yep! I come from a planet called Kaldrax, and this is my face believe it or not!"

Jaime loves being in Gar's videos, it gives him an opportunity to practice his favorite hobby of giving baseless lies to the public.

    j.c.amp642: how does he eat?

    julemiester99: can i sit on it.

"Oh-kay! Think that's enough questions for Blue, he's got very important bug stuff to do." Gar swivels away from Jaime so that his back is to the window now, showing off the drab gray ocean sky to the camera, which, if he's lucky, no one will offer to fuck.

    matty_man30: What's superman like???

    anne_bowlin: what's your rising sign?

"Superman is uh- great guy. Um, Virgo."

   nwlvr4evr: what are Nightwing's superpowers??

"That's actually a really good q-"

Donna comes tromping into the rec room with her too loud heeled boots, as if she wasn't already tall enough.

"Hey, Gar where's the- what the fuck are you doing?"

"Oh, hey, no swearing." They've got an image to maintain after all. "Everyone say hi to Donna Troy."

    j.c.amp642: Donna Troy???

   calicocat46: Is she back on the team?

   nwlvr4evr: Holy shit!!!!

   parked.carson: who is that?

"Are you- turn that off or so help me I'll rip your-" Donna makes a grab for Gar's cellphone that he weakly dodges.

"Oh-kay thanks everyone gotta go bye! don't forget to follow." Gar ends the live and shoves his phone back in his pocket.

"Are you kidding me?" Donna crosses her arms, she's been back at the tower for five fucking minutes and has already gone back to her favorite past time of finding reasons to be pissed at him.

"What?"

"You can't be filming inside the Tower are you insane? It's a total security risk."

"What? It's not like I'm gonna give away our location." Last he checked they're a permanent fixture in the JC skyline. Which, if their track record of impromptu renovations has anything to say, continues to be a terrible choice in headquarters.

"You could have revealed someone's identity." Which was why he taped a sign on the door that said "LIVE RECORDING. NO SECRET IDENTITIES."

"What? Like yours? Pretty sure the cat's outta the bag on the whole Donna Troy, Princess of Themyscira thing."

"And I'm suited up!" Jaime adds.

"And Jaime's suited up."

Jaime's mask comes down as he makes a b-line for the fridge. "If anything, I'm helping my secret identity, if everyone thinks I'm an alien, they'll never suspect I'm secretly just a totally normal dude."

"Great, so you've got Jaime lying to the public." As if Gar could stop him from doing that.

"It's not lying… okay it is lying. But it's for a good cause. That cause being my peace and quiet."

"Whatever that doesn't- you can't just- I mean why would you even -"

"It's publicity. It helps people feel comfortable around us, ya know, makes us seem relatable?"

"Relatable? You're kidding?" Okay, yes, that is a bit of a stretch. Gar doesn't think there's anything he could do that would make them all seem like totally normal relatable people. But considering they've had more than a few run ins with possession, mind hacking, and just general proximity to global disasters, it's important that the people feel like they know, and can trust them.

"D… the whole things cleared with Dick, it's- I'm not stupid, 'kay?"

"Dick's okay with this?"

"Uh, obvi."

Donna's entire head rolls with her eyes. "Unbelievable."

"Anyway, did you need something?"

"Never mind, I'll ask… anyone else." Donna stomps back out of the room as loudly as she came.

Jaime hops up on the counter and starts peeling an orange with his armored clawed fingers.

"Sheesh, what's her damage?" Jaime mumbles in Spanish, which is the only super hearing proof technique any of them have figured out so far. (But not mind reader proof- something Gar learned the hard way.)

"I think she's still pissed at me from the cheesecake incident of '22."

"The what?"

"Uh… don't worry about it."

"I mean she just showed up and started acting like she owns the place, what is she even doing here?"

Gar doubts Donna even knows what she's doing here, exactly. She showed up out of the blue citing a 'girl's day' and then locked Kory and Raven in Kory's bedroom for eighteen hours to do who the hell knows what. But now it's been a week, and she's still wandering around the tower in her chic New Yorker clothes like the Ghost of Titans Past.

"Look, Donna's just… Donna."

Jaime shrugs. "Whatever, man," and meanders out of the room.

Raven is floating six feet off the floor, surrounded by a mess of open books and scrolls that look like they were stolen right out a museum. Which, they very much might be. She has a 'working relationship' with several major museums and libraries that consists of her 'borrowing' items from their archives and then returning them before anyone could even notice they're gone.

Gar leans against the door frame, it hardly cracks the top ten of strangest Ravenisms but it still makes quite the spectacle.

"Does that really make things easier?" It's not like the Tower, or even her bedroom is lacking in desk space.

Raven doesn't so much as glance away from the hovering book in front of her face. "Yes."

She looks very much like someone who doesn't want to be bothered, but, if that were true, she wouldn't have opened the door in the first place.

Raven goes on ignoring him, rearranging the books again while a pen writes independently of her own hand. Gar would be lying if he said it didn't find the way she casually wielded so much power terrifying (and like, kind of hot).

Whatever she's found in the book must be what she was looking for because her eyes widen in excitement and then she pulls another book next to it and compares the two with a deep concentration while chewing on her thumbnail.

(Maybe it's the fact that it's terrifying that he finds hot. He should really probably do some reflecting on that.)

"Can I help you?” Raven finally pauses from her manic researching to glance down at him, eyebrows perched like she finds his presence both a nuisance and also amusing. He gets why people keep starting cults around her.

“I think I’m gonna go into the city. Wanna come?”

"Busy."

“You sure? We could go to that Sri Lankan place you like, my treat?” 

“You just want a ride don’t you?”

“No, I just want to spend time with you… and I need a ride. I have some stuff I need to take down to the theater and I do not want to fly with.”

“I’m not a taxi, Gar.” 

“Yeah, taxis don’t come to the tower.” 

“Take the car, Victor clearly isn’t using it.” 

“The sneaky bastard took the keys with him.” To space. That dick. Gar really misses him.

"Well, that is unfortunate. But not my problem."

"Please? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

"Doubt it."

"And I'll owe you, which I know you love."

The floating books abruptly fall to the ground, sorting into a neat stack as Raven comes down from the ceiling, stopping a few inches short of the ground so she can loom over him by a good six inches.

"Fine." Raven backs him up against the wall and jams her pointer finger into his chest, all of which makes him feel very much like a caught prey animal. "But you do owe me."

"Yesthankyouyourethebest!"

Gar may have, slightly, undersold the fact that the 'stuff' he needed to move was a giant aluminum tree, which he never would have built in the tower in the first place, except it was made out of scrap pipes from the air ducts of the old tower that he had salvaged. Covered then in layers of paper mache and paint, it's not so much heavy as it is incredibly awkward to carry, which Raven does make him do despite the fact that she could just levitate it. Because she likes to watch him suffer. Or something.

The youth theater Gar volunteers at is currently putting on an original production about a fairy who gets exiled from her home after attempting to tell her fellow fairies that their queen is secretly poising their sacred tree. The entire plot is overly convoluted and the songs are derivative on account of it being both student written and student directed as a way to distract from the fact that there was no chance in hell their little theater was going to be able to license Wicked. Which Gar personally thought was pretty fucked given his personal connection to the show, not to mention, the absolutely ridiculous amount of free promotion he did for that stupid movie (and, ya know, saving the earth on multiple occasions) but whatever. Who needs Stephen Schwartz when they had sixteen year old Allie Jackson as a composer?

It's the middle of the day and the theater is empty so it feels a little bit like breaking and entering when Raven teleports them to the prop room. As a volunteer, he's definitely allowed to be here, but also, and there's sort of no way around this: he owns the building.

No one knows about that. At least, no one at the theater knows. He's not exactly sure why he's keeping it a secret, it's not like the people here don't know who he is, other than that it just feels vaguely embarrassing. But the previous owner died and his asshole kids were going to sell to the highest bidder without any regard for- well, anyways, point is: he's allowed to be here.

Gar gets the tree on wheels and sets it up next to the forest backdrop, which last he saw was little more than some white paint on a wooden board. "Wow, that's basically a perfect match, Kaylee knocked it out of the park."

"One of the students did this?" Raven steps next to him with the light footedness of someone who's only pretending to let their feet touch the ground.

"Oh yeah, they're basically fully autonomous at this point, hardly need me and Kels for anything besides footing the bill." Not that Gar makes it to half the rehearsals anyway. Kelsey, the theater manager pretty much makes sure nothing catches on fire and she hardly needs Gar's help for that.

"Impressive."

"Well, we can't all be big shot TV stars at fifteen, but yeah… they're pretty good kids."

Raven snorts. "Pretty sure the TV show has to make it to air for you to be considered a star, Gar."

"The pilot aired."

"It was pulled after thirteen days."

"I'm flattered you even know that, sorta thought you didn't listen to me when I talk."

"I try not to."

"Liar. Lunch?"

And because the universe hates him, that's the exact moment the emergency alarm on his watch goes off.

The worst part about being casually slammed into a concrete wall by a twenty foot tall robot like a stray tennis ball is that, well, it fucking hurts.

The second worst thing is that after, swarms of reporters and random people show up and expect him to give some debriefing/uplifting speech about how the city is safe now. And of course it has to be him, because Raven is busy fixing Jackson's shattered tibia and Star is talking to (more like berating) the JCPD, which leaves him as the defacto most senior Titan and ergo the guy who has to do all the talking even though he feels like he just got hit by a truck (because he did).

And on top of all that he's fucking starving.

Eventually Raven does rescue him and whisk the team back to the tower. Everyone but him seems to be in a great mood because they still think fighting giant robots are fun and haven't figured out yet that no one just sends out a giant robot to attack the city for no reason, and someone should really probably call Dick because whatever the hell that was about is probably going to end up being a giant shit show.

Gar collapses on the couch and contemplates species with less intense pain receptors than humans. It's not so bad, actually, so long as he doesn't move any of his muscles and lets himself become one with the couch.

A brush against his shoulder causes his whole body to jolt, which- ow.

"Hey." Raven is kneeling on the couch cushion next to him, hand hovering above his arm and a twisted frown on her lips. "I can help."

She doesn't need to elaborate, and as much as that would be great— amazing— actually, there's no way in hell he's letting her do that. "Don't."

"Gar." The pout deepens and her fingers land on top of his wrist. She doesn't actually need his permission, but she won't do anything without it.

"I'm fine. It's just bruising, I'll walk it off."

"You don't need to do that, I can remedy-"

"No." He won't let her take on his pain just because he's being a big baby about it. "Just, drop it, Rave."

Raven bites her lip and exhales harshly though her nose. "Fine, suit yourself. I'm going back to the city to help with the remaining injuries."

See? There were plenty of actually hurt people that she could go help instead. People who might die if not for her to help. And also people who would definitely be fine without her. Raven has a chronic problem with thinking it's acceptable to take on other people's discomforts in exchange for her own suffering. "M'kay."

"Don't wait up for me."

Gar's head flops back against the headrest as Raven disappears from the couch. Message received.

In the kitchen, they're holding a formal congressional session about pizza toppings when someone — Gar is pretty sure it's Cassie, but he's not willing to turn his head to confirm — pipes up, "Gar's paying anyway since he owes us, so just get both."

Gar doesn't remember being consulted on that, but whatever. It's not like he doesn't foot the bill on all the food around here anyways.

"But I'm not doing pickup!" He yells over his shoulder. Superclone is ten times faster than he is anyway. Gar turns into Magicicada septendecim so he doesn't have to feel any of his soft tissue anymore and flies out of the room before anyone can argue the point and collapses in his bed the moment he makes it to his bedroom, regrettably, returning to human form.

He doesn't sleep so much as he thinks very hard about sleeping and then gets annoyed that he isn't and then gets even more annoyed that he's trying to go to sleep in the middle of the afternoon like he's some old geezer or a toddler going down for nap time. So he ends up scrolling though articles about the attack on his phone, which is super productive. It's not like he was there or anything.

"Knock knock." Donna says instead of actually knocking and also doesn't wait for a response before cracking open the door. "I come bearing pizza."

"Thanks." The worst part about the aching in his arms and his legs and his back and his chest is that Gar knows it's going to be even worse tomorrow. He tries not to look too pathetic as he forces himself upright.

Donna makes herself at home in his room, flipping open the pizza box on top of his mattress and pulling up his desk chair for herself. She might have asked first before putting a greasy pizza box on his bed, he might have standards about that kind of thing. To be clear: he doesn't. But he could.

"I saw what happened earlier." Donna says while pulling a slice of Beast Boy's favorite (no really, that's the name of the pizza) out of the box, as if anything about this is normal. It's not like he and Donna aren't' friends. Once a Titan always a Titan, and all that. But even when she was on the team it wasn't like she ever sought him out for one on one hang outs (not that he can totally blame her, he was kind of a disaster as a teenager).

"Pretty sure all of America saw what happened at this point." It may not be his actual favorite pizza (he probably should have stuck around through the ordering process, the kids always order from Sal's even though it's not as good as For The Love of Pi, probably because Sal's keeps doing things like naming pizza's after them, which is a cheap marketing gimmick if you ask Gar).

But it is good enough to remind him that he's fucking starving and he manages to scarf the first slice down in three bites without choking. "Coulda used your help."

"I'm sure I wouldn't've been much help, it looked like the fight was practically over before it started. Besides, I don't do that anymore."

"Then why are you here, Donna?"

Gar doesn't mean to sound so rude. Only, he does a little bit. It isn't like he forgot the way that Donna left the team. The way she made it clear that she was done with all this. The way Cassie showed up two months later with a note from Donna like some sort of apology gift. Not that — Cassie's great. She doesn't have as much experience as Donna but she's just as strong, smart enough to learn from her mistakes. She's an honestly good replacement and that almost makes it worse.

So the fact that Donna Troy is now back and splitting a pizza in his room is just fucking weird.

"I- Raven told me that Dick might be in Gotham for a while and I just thought I should be here." Breaking news: the two headed wonder twins are equally incapable of letting things go.

"You know, for Kory." Donna adds weakly.

"For Kory?" Gar doesn't pretend to understand the first thing about whatever the hell Kory and Dick have going on, other than that for two people who claim to have a mature, adult relationship, based on mutual trust and communication (Bird boy's exact words) they sure do seem to break up a lot. But what he does know for sure is that Kory isn't the sort of girl who falls apart just because her boyfriend goes out of town for a while. (Even when going out of town involves spending a lot of time with his ex girlfriend, again because of all that shit about mature relationships or whatever.)

"For the whole team."

Wasn't she just the one who said they didn't need any help. "Yeah well, team's all grown up now, Donnie, we don't need a babysitter."

"No, I know, that's not- I- fine, yeah I have no idea what I'm doing. Happy?"

"To hear that the great Donna Troy has no idea what she's doing? Yeah, actually that does make me pretty happy."

"And here I thought you might have matured while I was gone. So about this mech...?"

"Yeah, weird right?" Gar snags another slice and leans back against his headboard.

"Do you have any idea what-"

"Not a clue, tech looked earthen— thought it might be some kind of Rog wanna be copy cat, but the brotherhood doesn't do that kind of shit anymore."

"I thought the brotherhood was dismantled."

Gar snorts, 'dismantled' might be the word the U.S. government uses but it's definitely not the one he'd use. "Yeah, sure. I don't think this was them though."

"Who else has the resources to be building mechs then?"

"Working theory? The military? Kord Industries?" Gar shrugs. "Maybe it was the president."

"The president? Really Gar?"

Gar switches out his foot for a hand and grabs another slice of pizza, which he can tell grosses Donna out, but whatever: it's his goddamn bedroom. "Maybe he ran out of ideas for getting his kid's attention. And with Supes off world it wouldn't be a bad time."

"Have you talked to Conner?"

Gar hasn't even taken a proper nap yet, talking to Conner about the possibility that his nightmare sperm donor-daddy-president might have sent him a giant city attacking robot as a present hasn't exactly been a top priority. "No. Kids' fragile about all that. Besides, I'm just spit balling. It probably wasn't him. I dunno, I'll see if I can get a hold of Vic and have him snoop through the code."

Donna nods. "Yeah, good call. I'll get in contact with Waller, see if she can tell us anything." She's up on her feet with her phone out in seconds and Gar can't help but laugh."What?"

"Nothing. It's good to have you back."

Chapter Text

Raven's head knocks against the ceiling of the gym bathroom for the third time.

"Shit."

Garfield giggles into the crook of her thigh, warm breath tickling at the sensitive flesh. He once said that hearing her use profanity was like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs and she can only assume by that he meant painful and unnatural. His free hand grabs onto the lip of the sink and he pulls himself, and Raven by extension back to the ground.

"You've got to stop doing that."

She's been having an increasingly difficult time remembering to pretend to be affected by gravity.

"So-oh" The apology catches in her throat as Gar's hand- the other one that's buried knuckle deep between her legs- twists and her whole body jolts in reflex.

The thing about sex, is that it is really no different from any other act of physical exertion. A mechanical process like any other, the end result a repeatable and expected conclusion to the repetitive stimulation of certain nerves and muscles. And just as Raven was taught to withstand physical pain and the external stimuli associated with life's many discomforts, pleasurable sensations are no different. Granted, she'd grown up believing that it was impossible for her to form the sort of personal attachment required for sexual relationships, even one of the most fleeting and casual nature. And besides, it would have been an unnecessary and hedonistic risk, both of which were strictly forbidden for her within the Temple of Azarath.

Raven's head knocks against the ceiling again and Gar yanks her back down with more force than strictly necessary and pins her hip to the wall, thumb digging into bone. "Jesus Christ, gonna have to tie you to the fucking floor if you keep it up."

Gar is mouthy in bed (or in this case, standing in the smallest bathroom in the tower with her legs looped over his shoulders, because the gym has by far the most fortified and soundproof walls and, well, they were already there. Sparring always makes Gar unconscionably randy).

Gar's mouth, primarily the inability to keep it closed is unsurprising, yet undoubtedly a growing issue. He's just become so smug about the whole thing. Raven never should have allowed him to become so competent at this task. Gar is a perfectly satisfactory lover but Raven's own satisfaction has never been the the point of their coupling. Achieving an orgasm is task Raven can  complete with perfect reliability on her own.

That is an accomplishment in its own right. Raven has come a long way from being lectured by a horrified Kory on the value of intimacy and experiencing all pleasures of the body, who then broke down crying as if she were the one who needed comforting over Raven's emotionally butchered upbringing and then insisted on personally overseeing Raven's sexual enlightenment. And as awkward and terrifying of a precipice that endeavor was, Raven is grateful she found the other side.

Point being, achieving her own pleasure has never been the driving factor of her and Gar's current entanglement. Enjoyable, certainly, but not paramount. Truthfully, her own flesh is entirely inconsequential to the matter. Rather, she's fascinated with observing the emotions it pulls from him: the warmth of his adoration, the simmer of pride and trepidation. She's mildly obsessed with his attention: cataloguing the way he feels when he looks at her, or touches her, drinks it in as though it is her own.

Besides, he is rather pleasing to look at with his head in between her legs.

Repeatable and expected conclusion to repetitive stimulus, Raven trips over the edge into orgasmic convulsions but doesn't hit the ceiling again. Gar doesn't let up on either points of contact and the overstimulation quickly becomes unbearable. Raven loosens her jaw and tries to wedge a separation between her self and her physical body but only manages to whimper like a wounded animal.

"Gar- fuck. Gar I can't-I"

Gar moves away enough to speak but otherwise doesn't stop. "Yes you can, come on, you're doing so good for me, one more."

"Gar I- I-" Raven starts to levitate again and slams a forearm against the ceiling to keep herself in place. That is a mistake because the stretch in her abdomen and the added downward pressure broadens the network of affected muscles and Raven screams, head falling forward as she desperately tries to regain control over her nervous system.

"That's a good girl, you're so fucking sexy, god I fucking l- " Gar always cuts himself off at the hilt before he can let the words spill out. It's a futile exercise and they're both aware. It's not as though she can't feel it, can't see it in his eyes empathetic abilities aside. And it isn't like he doesn't understand the extent of her powers so the forced silence can’t be for her sake.

"Fucking love watching you come."

Romance at its finest.

"Are you going to put me down now?"

"I dunno." Gar bites at the inside of her thigh. "I kinda like you right here."

"Gar." She warns when he licks at the ridge of her hip.

"Hmm?"

"Put me down."

He ignores the command in favor of sucking bruises onto her stomach. "Can't, busy."

"Gar."

He huffs against her naval but unhooks her legs from his shoulder and Raven drops back to the floor. "Happy?"

"Hardly." Raven doesn't waste anytime, pulling off the pathetic scrap of a tank top he calls a shirt and shoving down his shorts. Gar is laughing into her collarbone as she hooks her legs around his hips.

"Jeez someone's eager."

"I don't have all day, Logan. Are you going to fuck me or not?" She's already indulged him long enough she almost considers leaving him high and dry, but something about the thought of leaving him hard and aching prevents her from evaporating through the wall.

Their noses knock together at his eager nod. "Yeah, um, yeah."

"Oh god, fuck-" Gar slides into her with a shuttering sigh, relief pulsing through him as his brow falls against her temple. It's fascinating: the way most people's emotions are so entangled with physical sensations: pain and anger, euphoria and love, intellectualized and rationalized as if they're conscious choices and not conditioned responses to a body that seeks sustain itself. Metaphorical language about the heart and the mind and the body obfuscating true nature of people and their emotions. Most people would deny it with their dying breath if asked if their affections were solely at the whim of whoever was on the other end of their sexual gratification but Raven has first hand evidence. And the truth is that Gar is the most in love with her when they're fucking.

Which is one of the reasons she needs to put an end to this. Allow him to rewire his affections towards a more suitable companion. It's what any decent person would do.

Raven has never been decent.

The utilitarian shower they take after, and the reason they ended up in the bathroom in the first place, is brief and quiet and ends with Raven pulling tights on over still damp skin.

"So, have you thought more about where you want to go?" Gar scrubs a towel over his hair and throws it on the floor.

"Where I want to go when?" As far as she can remember this is the only standing plan they have.

"On our vacation."

Oh. Right.

"I never said we were doing that."

Gar ignores that. "Because I was thinking, you know it doesn't have to be a beach. We could go to the Alps or the Andes, or hell, Tahoe if you wanna stick close to home. Skiing could be fun, I mean, it might kinda pale in comparison to flying but its really more about the whole aesthetic ya know? Snowy mountains, a ski lodge with a fire, you, me, a hot tub. A hot spring? Have you ever been to Iceland?"

"When would I have been to Iceland?"

Gar shrugs and says, "I dunno," then frowns at his watch face. "Shit, I gotta go. Iceland. Think about it." The door pops open and Gar shrinks down into a bird of prey and flaps out of the gym.

"He says that the Batman is doing better." Kory says as she hangs off the steel wire of the bridge as though she actually might fall. Kory always calls Bruce Wayne 'The Batman', as though he's not functionally her father in law. "Most of the wounds were superficial, but it is astonishing how much a broken wrist can interfere with day to day tasks, let alone..."

"I could have healed him." Raven used to think Dick was stubborn, now she understands it's only a flicker of the sort of hard headed neuroses he was raised around.

Kory rocks back and forth, hair tangling and sparking in the night sky, she's been restless as of late. "I think he believes he deserves it."

"Idiot." The windchill bristles against Ravens skin and she tugs her cloak around her arms. "Any luck with… Robin?"

Kory hooks her legs over the beam and falls upside down and hums in the negative. "He's still looking for him."

"Do you think it's really him?"

"I-" Both women's watches chime in tandem and Gar's voice is in Raven's ear.

"I just got a hit at Ocean Gate Park, JCPD is requesting back up, looks like a meta altercation." Raven's watch blinks with a precise location

"Thank you, Beast Boy, we're on it." Kory flips back to right side up and Raven pulls them both through a tear in the universe and into the heart of the park, where the dense forest meets the neatly trimmed grass.

The flashing blue and red lights against the dark of night make it difficult for Raven's eyes to adjust, but fear and anger course like thick humidity in the air. She counts at least twenty souls, none of which seem bright with the fresh sting of active injury, which is a promising sign.

A disembodied voice comes through a speaker on one of police vehicles. "See? The Titans are here. It's in your best interest to comply."

A collection of people huddle away from the six officers, and Raven can sense even more hidden beyond the treeline, all loud with fear.

"What is going on here officer?" Kory's voice lowers an octave whenever she speaks to policemen, like she's trying to remind them of the authority inherent to her bloodline.

"These folks are refusing to vacate the premises." Raven recognizes the officer though she couldn't place the name. He's an even tempered, polite man. Which only serves to build Raven's exasperation.

"To be clear, you called us here for… loitering?"

"Trespassing. Park's closed. We told them to leave and one of them shot fire out of their hands." Through the trees, Raven can just make out the silhouette of a makeshift camp.

"I didn't shoot anything at you, you morons!" A girl yells, breaking through the barrier of larger people who have been shielding her. She looks no older than Emiko, hair shorn short and jagged and bundled in a worn windbreaker. She is angry. But no fire. If it's true that she has the ability of pyrokinesis she at least has the control to keep it in check.

She flinches when Raven approaches, but shrugs off the hand of one of her large protectors.

"You have powers?" Raven pulls her hood down, as if her face might provide some relief to the girl's distrust.

"That's none of your goddamn business."

"It is if you're using them to harm people."

"I'm not!" The girl raises her hand, skin tuning a bright, heatless white. "It's not even fire."

Regardless, the six officers move in unison, drawing weapons, filling the air with even more panic as the light from the girl's hand goes out. And Raven has never feared bullets but she certainly will not be the reason they're fired. Kory lands on the grass next to Raven, kicking up dirt from impact, meanwhile Raven relinquishes gravity's hold over her.

"Stand down, now."

Her voice comes out cavernous. Perhaps Kory isn't the only one who looks to her ancestry to garner authority. The cops lower their weapons slowly and Raven stitches her second pair of eyes back into her skin.

There are tears in the girl's eyes when Kory crouches in front of her. "Your body can become light, yes?"

The girl nods silently as Kory returns to her feet. "Officers, I believe this has been a misunderstanding."

One of the officers grumbles into his radio and then raises his voice, "Well, they still can't stay here! They've gotta clear out."

"That is not our concern." Kory's simmer pot of anger is beginning to boil over and Raven resists the urge to tamp it back down on her behalf.

"Not your concern? Ain't you heroes?"

"And there does not seem to be anyone in need of saving. Except, perhaps from you." Kory's hands are also capable of emitting a bright light. Hers however, are very, very hot.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Another officer wails. Not very professional, in Raven's opinion, but what does she know?

Raven withstands the heat to grab hold of Kory's wrist, if she can't quell her anger through artificial means, perhaps this will do. "Come on, Starfire, lets go."

"You can't just leave!" The same officer growls, though he's genuinely surprised. This is not how any of them expected this to go.

"This isn't Titans' business, these people aren't hurting anyone, we're leaving, and I suggest you do the same." Raven answers him.

"Told you those capes are good for nothing."

"You can't just refuse to help us! This is your job!"

People seldom appreciate the sheer height that Koriand'r has compared to most humans. She's often hovering high enough that the perspective skews her size, or seen on screens, mid combat with mechanical beasts that do not do her justice. It's only when she gets close that her size becomes an unavoidable factor, no way to ignore the presence of an warrior from beyond earth's imagination.

"No, it isn't. We are not attack dogs to be called upon whenever you fail to enforce your will onto people who are minding their own business! We maintain communication with your department as a courtesy, for emergencies. These people are not harming anyone, and I suggest you leave them alone."

"Are you threatening an officer?"

She is.

To be clear. The officer doesn't actually believe so, merely throwing out those words as a desperate scramble for illusory dominance, but Kory will unquestionably fight anyone she believes is enacting harm, regardless of any uniform or air of authority they wield.

"Starfire, let's go."

The other officer, the one Raven has met before plays the diplomat. "Grant, maybe we should- look, girls, we understand, but this is the law, these people have to vacate the premise, it's a liability for the park and puts the rangers in danger. We've got to do our job."

Raven grasps for words that aren't, your job is bullshit.

"As do we." Kory says.

"Come on, just help us move 'em. It will be better for everyone, them included. We don't want to have to make any arrests tonight. You- can't you just… teleport them somewhere else. There's plenty of shelters-"

"Why can't you just leave us the hell alone?" One of the men huddled around the powered girl shouts.

"You all are the ones choosing to be here, we'd all be a lot happier if we didn't have to do this."

"Ladies, if you could please just- "

"Sorry, this isn't our problem, Star." Raven has never been much of a lady, she grabs Kory's hand.

"Some superheroes you are."

"Raven, wai- " Raven pulls them both through a portal and drops them back into the sky near the cloud line. Kory wrenches out of Raven's grip. "Stop, we have to go back!"

"To do what, Kor?" That entire interaction was an asinine waste of their time. There was no point in dragging it out further unless Kory intended on becoming an enemy of the state before they reached dawn.

"They're going to arrest those people!"

"They'll do that whether we're there or not. We can't interfere with police business like that."

"They involved us! If they did not want our interference they should not have-"

"No, they shouldn't have."

"I just-" Kory's anger washes into grief, and the tremble in her jaw feeds back to anger as quickly as it came, every present ouroboros. Raven bites back the urge to swallow down her friend's suffering, instinct no quieter than it was when they first met.

"I know. Look, if they were going to take anyone in, they would've done it already, they'll probably just leave."

"I've been checking the scans, they just left. No arrests." Gar's voice invades the earpiece and Raven jolts in her skin.

"Have you been listening the whole time?"

"Comms have been on, yeah." Which, has technically been standard protocol for the past eight years, but she's not used to Gar being silent, even when he's running the ops system, so she really can't be blamed for forgetting about him.

"Great."

Kory's voice goes stony. "Beast Boy, disable JCPD's emergency line."

"Oh- are you sure?"

"Now, Gar."

"Oh-okay, yup. Aaand muted."

"I am going home for the night." Kory rockets into the sky and across the bay before Raven can comment. Alone, this high up, she can hardly sense any lives other than her own. It's a strange sort of quiet. She reminds herself that as much of a nuisance as the JCPD is, at least there wasn't a real emergency. No one was hurt. This is preferable.

"Well that was- you coming home too?"

"Anything from dispatch?"

"Doesn't look like it. There's a collision on 405, no serious injuries though."

That's good. That is a good thing. Raven wishes every night could be like this.

This is preferable.

But she's been doing this long enough to know that the world is never, truly quiet.

"What about outside the local radius?"

She can hear his breathing through the other side of the comm. but the place where his wayward emotions fill the gaps is instead met with silence."Raven, just come home."

"Just check."

"Okay- okay yeah- um… a landslide at a power plant in Jaingxi was reported about fifteen minutes ago-"

"On it. Send me the exact coordinates."

"Wait, Rave- yeah, yeah okay. Sending now."

No later than Raven's head hit her mattress does her watch begin to buzz.

"What?"

"Sorry, bad time?" The hint of amusement in Dick's voice does little to endear her. Still, she is glad to hear from him.

"No, no, I'm fine. Just- long day."

"I saw. They locals are calling you a benevolent spirit." Raven isn't sure how benevolent she is.

"That's mostly accurate."

"You didn't take the team."

"I didn't need the team. Look, Dick not to be rude but- is there a reason you called, because if it's just to chat I'd really rather do it another time."

"No, yeah, there is another reason. The Chief of Police just called me." Raven is unsurprised by this. If the tower were more easily accessible she would have expected a six a.m. knock on the front door.

"You've gotta stop giving cops your personal number."

"Apparently."

"So, is this the part where you tell me to stop frightening police officers?"

"No, I sort of told him to fuck off so that shouldn't happen again."

"Oh, well, good. Thank you." Raven doesn't have the energy to have that particular fight right now.

"I just… is everyone okay? I know I sort of took of in the middle of the night and, I'm you know- I'm supposed to be your leader and-"

"Everyone's fine, Dick."

"You're sure? Because if you guy's need me to come back-"

"Dick. I'm sure."

She'd like to tell him that his habit of thinking the whole team will fall apart whenever he's out of sight is an ego problem which he really should reflect on. There's something distinctly narcissistic about shouldering the weight of the world, but, well she's not exactly one to talk.

"I-yeah, okay, yeah you're right."

"I am. May I go to sleep now?"

"Yeah, sorry- yes."

"Goodnight, Richard."

"You know it's like 9 am right?"

"Exactly. Goodbye."

Chapter Text

In hindsight, Gar never stood a chance.

Between the crime and the jet-setting and the crime again but this time of the stopping it variety, there was never any hope for him developing healthy sleeping habits. Even way, way back it wasn't like his parents did the whole enforcing strict parental oversight on him so it's not like he even had a concept of a bedtime as a kid.

Plus there was the whole soul-of-a-thousand-beasts thing, some of which were nocturnal and kept fucking with his circadian rhythm. (Yeah, good job Gar, blame it all on the actual raccoons living in your brain.)

The good news is, no one else around here is any better so at least he's in the good company of People Who Couldn't Wake Up Before Ten To Save Their Life.

Tamaran's days were twice as long as Earth's, which meant Kory's biological clock was perpetually misaligned. She isn't nearly as bad as when she first got here, but she is still prone to eighteen hour naps and spontaneous all nighters.

Raven, he has on good authority doesn't actually need that much sleep, something about Demon physiology and all that. She told him once that she technically doesn't need to sleep at all which he's ninety nine- ninety eight percent sure is completely bullshit. In any case she spends a full fucking four hours meditating every morning, but really what is meditation if not sitting around with your eyes closed not thinking (aka sleep).

And the rest of the team is a bunch of restless, barely legal teenagers who haven't ever heard of the concept of willingly going to sleep before 2 am.

Vic and Dick are the only people who got up before noon with any reliability but they're both gone. And besides, as much as Dick believes in the value of an early rise or whatever, he believes in getting into back alley fist fights at 4 am, more.

Which means breakfast is served at 3 p.m.

Gar considers it one of his biggest achievements in life: convincing his teammates that his cooking is good, actually.

Breakfast is maybe the hardest sell of all, but people wouldn't believe the advancements made in the fake bacon industry. He still prefers a tofu scramble to any of those fancy egg replacers, and it's not like hash browns or waffles need eggs or dairy in them, regardless of whatever Big Egg tries to tell you.

Vic would call his spread Vegetable Propaganda and accuse him of trying to indoctrinate the youth, but of course, Vic isn't here (and also, it's true, that's absolutely what he's doing).

"Order up!" Gar yells and hits the bell on the island that he bought for this exact purpose. The team all jumps to their feet and usher into the kitchen.

“Oh man thanks BB!” Jackson says while piling four waffles onto his plate.

“Eah ar your sha besh.” Emiko grumbles through a bite of scramble.

And that is what Gar calls sweet, sweet redemption.

Raven and M'gann both float down through the ceiling which means at least one of them was probably eavesdropping. Not that he can blame 'em. Last time he'd walked in on one of Raven and Meg's 'training sessions' they had been sitting perfectly still, facing each other with their eyes closed. Gar would definitely get bored as hell doing that and start rifling through his friends thoughts for entertainment.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude!" M'gann squeaks.

"That's alright kiddo." He's pretty sure M'gann is like 40 years older than him. "Breakfast?"

Raven grabs a single strawberry from the tray of fruit he put out because god forbid anyone accuse him of not making a well rounded meal. "You do know it's the middle of the afternoon?"

"Psh. Breakfast is a state of mind, baby. It can't be repressed to a certain time of day."

Raven rolls her eyes and bites the tip off the strawberry, taking too small of bites for a single strawberry because she's incapable of eating food like a normal person.

For all her brittle words, she's looking incredibly soft this morning (afternoon? Whatever, time is fake) in her worn out grey hoodie and purple joggers which are definitely his. He'd tell her to stop stealing all his fucking clothes if he didn't like the way they looked on her so much. It scratches at the same part of his brain that tells him to piss all over everything to mark his territory. Of course, he can't go around pissing on stuff, or god forbid people, so the whole clothes sharing thing is a good stand in.

"Anyway, I think what you should be saying is 'Oh my goodness! Thank you Beast Boy! I can't believe you made this incredible breakfast for your teammates! Your incredible display of domestic skills has made me overcome with lust and I must ravage you immediately.'"

"Right, of course. That is something I would say. Absolutely." Raven rolls her eyes. Her eyes are a tiny bit pink like she's been crying, which probably has something to do with whatever weird telepath shit she and M'gann were doing. And it's probably a bad thing that Gar thinks it makes her look extra fuckable. Probably a symptom of his long running list of psychological problems he should probably get checked out.

Gar ignores her sarcasm and gasps in delight. "Hah! I knew it!"

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah but admit it, I'd make an excellent housewife."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Raven puts the rest of the strawberry between her teeth but doesn't bite down just kind of sucks on it- which, he knows she's not doing to purposely torment him, because, as established: she's a habitual freak of an eater. But that is the resulting effect and Gar has never wanted to be a strawberry so bad in his life.

When she finally does bite down on the strawberry, its with a grimace. "These are terrible, Gar."

"What? No they're not!" He steals the rest of her strawberry and- okay, yeah they are pretty sour. "They're totally fine! Maybe you just don't like strawberries."

"I like strawberries. That is hardly what I'd call a strawberry. You've got to stop buying fruit at the supermarket."

Raven likes to pretend like she's a totally laid back, low maintenance type of girl but the truth is she's as much of a diva as he is. He usually goes to the farmers market with Kory for fruit, because between Raven and Dick (and okay if he's being honest, himself) there will be way too much complaining about the lack of quality, premium fruit if he doesn't. But he hasn't been lately because Donna's in town meaning Kory has been too busy with whatever the hell it is they do all day to go with him to the farmer's market and it's not like he's going to go alone. And he's just saying, none of the kids complained about his strawberries (because not a single one of them put any fruit on their plates to begin with but that's besides the point.)

Point is: this is all Donna Troy's fault.

Raven's voice goes light and gentle. "I am just saying, a good house wife would know better."

"Oh f-

The blare of the alarm cuts of the very good rebuttal he was about to make. God, he hopes it isn't another giant robot.

"An unidentified object in the Bay is causing a seismic disturbance, it's heat signature and movement suggest it's a living organism." The mechanical voice of the Tower's AI cuts through the alarm.

"What like a sea monster?" Asks Virgil.

Yeah, exactly like a sea monster. Great, that's exactly what Gar needs right now. "Whatever it is- it could destabilize the bridge, let's-"

"We're on it!" Cassie is off the couch and off the floor, rising into the middle of the room. "Jaime, take Virgil and scout ahead Jackson take the under, Conner, M'gann, loop around and get us some ground coverage. Em you're with me, Titans, go!"

The room clears with record speed, leaving Gar and Raven standing alone in the kitchen.

"Um… should we?"

"Wait, let's let them-"

Kory jets through the door with one boot in her hand and Donna hot on her heels. "I heard the alarms, wha- where is everyone?"

"It seems our younger members 'got this one'." Raven answers.

Kory gets her other boot on and her hands fall to her hips. "Should we not have discussed?"

"They discussed."

Gar taps the mic on his earpiece, "Wondergirl, what's your report?"

"Um… well it's definitely a sea monster."

Virgil's voice cuts through. "Yeah, looks like Godzilla full on crawled out of the Pacific."

"Okay, well see if Aqualad can communicate with it. Don't engage offensively, if this thing is an animal the best thing to do is to keep it calm and get it away from the harbor as quickly as possible."

"Already on it, we'll call if we need reinforcements."

The kitchen falls silent and Kory fills it. "Well I'm glad they are taking an initiative, I suppose we shall… stand by for back up."

"Yeah."

"So…"

"D'you guys want to play exploring kittens?"

Kory squeals loud enough to break glass. "I win!"

Kory giggles like a woman who's never ripped a man's guts out with her bare hands.

"Oh c'mon again? You're cheating! You've got to be cheating." Gar groans, there is no way one person can be that lucky.

"Sorry Beast Boy, I understand that my advanced tactical skills may come across that way but I promise my victory is honest." She bats her eyelashes like she's just an innocent princess who fell to earth that day, but Gar knows way better.

"It's a game of luck Kory! You're totally cheating. She's cheating right, Rae? Tell me she's cheating!"

Raven uncrosses her ankles in Gar's lap which she's been using as a footrest for the better part of an hour. "She's not cheating."

"She wins every time!"

"No, you just lose every time." Donna snorts and starts collecting the scattered cards into neat piles.

"No, bullshit! She's totally cheating."

"Perhaps I just have 'luck'?" Kory has, on multiple occasions throughout the course of their ten year long friendship and teamship, told him that she doesn't understand the Earthen concept of luck, so he's not freaking buying it.

"Right, yeah, sure, luckiest girl alive. Maybe we should take you to Vegas. Actually…"

"What?" Raven asks in the way she does when she's afraid of his answer.

"We should go to Vegas."

Donna snorts. "What? Like right now?"

"Yeah, why not?" Other than the fact that the rest of their team that they were supposedly a part of was in the midst of coaxing a four story reptile back into the ocean. But they clearly don't need their help, and it's not like they've got something better to do.

"We're supposed to be on call, Garfield." Way to go Kory, pulling out the full name like that will make him feel like a child in trouble. Clearly, it doesn't work.

"And they clearly don't need our help so, why not? Put Kory's 'luck' to good use."

"What do you need to gamble for? Aren't you like richer than God?" That really depends on which god Donna is talking about.

"Yeah but like- casinos are evil, we could do a whole Robin Hood thing, but like, not actually stealing ya know?"

Raven leans back in her chair, digging her feet into his femur. "That may truly be one of your worst ideas yet."

You know what? He's really starting to feel ganged up on here.

This is why he doesn't go to girls' night.

"Hey, now, no way that's even top ten."

Donna snorts. "We can't go to Vegas." Kory starts giggling into the cuff of her gloves and Raven turns a suspicious red.

Okay, Gar is definitely missing something.

"Miss Roth is banned." Donna elaborates.

"What?!"

That can't be true. One, because a person can't be banned from an entire city can they? And two, because if it were true, Gar would definitely know about it. Right?

"From all of Vegas?"

Raven starts. "No, not from al-"

Donna interrupts her with a loud sigh. "Yeah, pretty much."

"What? When did this happen? When have you even been to Vegas?"

Raven isn't exactly the gambling type. She isn't exactly the nightlife type either. Gar can't really think of a scenario where she would even get close enough to a casino to get kicked out unless he was the one dragging her there.

"I believe it was Richard's 22nd birthday?" Kory chimes in, which, yeah okay, that did happen.

Not that Gar was actually there, because his teammates were all dicks (pun intended) who didn't care about leaving the only under 21 member behind to 'watch the city' while they all went galavanting around sin city.

Not that he's bitter about it or anything.

"What? You're kidding me- oh god dammit."

"You were not old enough to join us." Kory adds, helpful.

"Yeah, I remember. I was so freaking pissed! And- I can't believe you never told me that."

Raven shrugs. "It never came up."

"That was a crazy night, pretty sure Dick and Wally got married." Donna laughs as if that's a totally normal, not bombshell thing to drop.

"What?"

"They got it annulled, obviously."

"Jesus, no one told me any of this!"

"Yeah, because you were so butt hurt about not getting to go."

Gar stands corrected, now they're ganging up on him.

"You were quite distressed." Kory nods.

"I believe you told me it was a 'betrayal worse than Judas'." Raven jabs him with her toe.

"I did not say that, I- okay maybe I did." This conversation is drifting dangerously close to old news that Gar really doesn't want to drag back up right now. Like the fact that he had left the team for almost a year after that. Which hadn't really been about Dick's dumb birthday party but it's not like that didn't factor.

"This is Superboy to Tower." Thank god for Conner.

"Hey, hey, what do you need."

"Nothing, just letting you know we're all good here. Miss Martian was able to sedate it and we got it out of the water, the feds are on the way to pick it up."

"Oh- okay, good job."

Raven taps in. "Were there any injuries? I can-"

"Nope, we're all good! Press is here though so we'll probably be a while."

"Yeah, okay, that's- good work everyone." Gar mutes his comm and drops his head over the back of his seat.

Donna still knows exactly where they keep the remote (glued to a rope tied to the underside of the coffee table because apparently they can be trusted with the safety of the world but not keeping track of a T.V. remote) (which, yeah, is fair). She fires up the local news and flops down on the couch.

"You guys gonna watch?"

"Anyone want popcorn?"

Gar doesn't actually make popcorn, because the kitchen is a fucking mess, which yes, is his fault and he will definitely have to deal with later even though technically, he was the one to lovingly cook for his team so maybe someone other than him should be on clean up duty. Whatever.

He does grab a half eaten bag of chips out of the pantry though before hopping over the back of the couch. Raven tucks her knees under herself carefully and settles against his side.

And, ya know, it'd be one thing if she insisted on maintaining a charade of professionalism between them. That's more or less what he expected of her. He'd mentally prepared himself for the strictly just sex-don't let the team find out-don't treat me like your fucking girlfriend approach from her. Which, yeah, okay maybe he'd been watching too many bad romcoms, and admittedly the idea of sneaking around was fun in theory. But they weren't a secret. Sure, they weren't going around telling the whole entire world, but it wasn't like they were going out of their way to hide it.

The truth is, Raven doesn't really act that different to how she did before they started hooking up. Of course, admitting that would mean admitting that the thing between them started way before that and doesn't really have anything to do with sex at all and that the sex is just an extension of their relationship which isn't a Relationship.

And he gets why she doesn't want to talk about it, or label it, except, actually, he really doesn't.

It's not like it needs to be some big deal, as happy as he'd be to shout it from the rooftop or at least make a few sappy instagram posts about it, he knows she's not into attention like that. But he doesn't understand the point of ignoring it, it's not like Raven doesn't know that he's been in love with her for half a decade and he's pretty sure she-

Well, that's the problem he guesses, he really doesn't know how she feels about him. Not for sure.

"Hey." Raven's fingers on his forearm are light and cold to the touch. "You okay?"

God, she can't even let him brood in peace can she?

"Hmm? Oh yeah." He turns his attention to the TV where Cassie is giving an impassioned speech about protecting the city. Very big blue of her. "Think we should be worried about that?"

Raven digs her hand into his chip bag. "No. I think it's good that she's taking on more responsibilities."

Cassie has that same crazy in her that Dick has, that Roy had and Emi inherited that makes a normal person decide they want to put on a mask. For people like Gar, and Vic, even Raven, it was never really a choice. There was never any sparkling normie life waiting for them just around the corner. You were either a freak who saved the world, or you were just a freak.

But Cassie had gone looking for trouble. Which is maybe why she's so good at handling it. She'd make a good team leader. Which is good, because Gar sure as hell doesn't want to do it (his younger self would be screaming and crying if he saw him now).

Kinda makes him wonder what he's doing here at all.

Chapter Text

This is the truth: some people are just unlucky.

People don't like thinking about that. It's easier to pretend that bad things happen to bad people and that you can good deed your way out of damnation because acknowledging the truth: that there is no cosmic fairness or 'karma' in the world, would be to face the insurmountable grief of tragedy and cruelness and plain bad luck that plagues the world. Raven understands the temptation to live in ignorance, to hold tight to the fantasy of a just universe. Because that grief turns to despair, and despair turns so quickly to unbridled, unfiltered rage. And rage, always ends in destruction.

So the lie is easier. It's easier to believe that nothing bad will happen to you as long as you're kind enough and not to think too hard about your martyrs. Pretend they got their reward somewhere else and ignore the writing on the wall.

But the truth is this: some people are just lucky.

Stewart Matthews, 'Stu' to his friends and colleagues, was lucky when he fell from a 30 foot scaffolding onto uneven gravel. Not that falling from a scaffold would ever be considered lucky.

But he was lucky that he hit the ground in such a way that he didn't die on impact, broken spine and shattered radius, impact from his own hammer cutting into the meat of his thigh, but alive.

He was lucky that he wasn't alone on the job.

Lucky that his brother and business partner had paused with the concrete saw and pulled down his ear protection.

Lucky that his brother already had his cellphone in hand and was able to call the operator within seconds of his brother's screams.

Lucky that Raven had been sitting in the ops room listening to 9-1-1 calls instead of joining Kory, Donna and Cassie at the mall.

Lucky that Raven was faster than any ambulance, because although he was not dead, he would be before the paramedics could arrive.

Perhaps even that seems like a story about choices. Stu's choice to ignore certain safety stands and forego fall protection. Raven's choice to deny herself the leisure time in favor of listening in on dispatch. After all, what are heroes if not people who make up for the misdeeds of others? It certainly makes for a neat little story.

But to believe that would be to ignore the child who died in a interstate collision that same day, the call coming in near seconds after Stu's. Raven could have saved him, if Stu hadn't fallen off that scaffolding, if his brother had been slightly slower in getting to his cellphone, but instead he's dead. And it would be to ignore the circumstances of Raven's very conception, sins so grievous most are too cowardly to even speak them. A person can end up playing the sort of game of cause and effect that goes on and on and has no winners. Because demonic gifts aside, pain is not transferable, there will never be any amount of good deeds she can do that will undo her mother's rape just like there are no amount of mended spines that will unkill that kid in the car crash.

Some people are just lucky.

Stu makes it to the hospital on two feet. He's still in pain because Raven has made promises to herself and others about the limits of her abilities, but after a thorough medical exam he'll sleep in his own bed tonight and be back to climbing construction sites by Monday. Hopefully with the use of fall protection.

"Raven, I just wanted to say thank you." Dr. De la riva is one of the E.R. doctors and his thanks is unusual for two reasons: one, they have a cordial relationship but Raven wouldn't quite call it friendly. None of the hospital staff like her exactly. Tolerate her, yes. Perhaps even appreciate her help at times. But she represents a certain uncertainty for them: she's not a licensed medial provider, she's not even beholden to the hospital's rules. And besides, she's creepy. Not exactly the omen of life you want lurking around a hospital.

The second reason is that she can sense his stress, in itself not uncommon from a person with his profession, but its distinct, the sort of stress that sits like a ball of anxiety in the pit of the stomach.

"Is there anyone else I can assist with, doctor?"

"About that. Um- Raven." The doctor doesn't meet her eyes. She's used to that, from strangers, but Dr. De la riva is hardly a stranger and she's used to his straightforward and direct manner of communication. "You know that we- I appreciate everything you've done for us here. All of the Titans really, what you folks have done for the city it's- well it's beyond words. And I know people haven't always been the most welcoming place to you but you still show up and well, work miracles, really. And I- I just want you to know how much I- personally appreciate all your help."

He doesn't feel grateful at all.

"But, the hospital can't have you here anymore."

The doctor shakes like he expects her retribution to be immediate and violent. Whether that's due to his own shame or a genuine fear of her she can't quite parse out. "I- am not sure I understand."

"It's a liability, you're not licensed and- no, you know what?" He rubs a finger into his forehead. "that's bullshit. The hospital can't bill for your healing, they see it as a conflict of interest."

So, shame it is.

"A conflict of interest?"

"Look, I want you to know that I think it's a disgrace. But the hospital is a business, and they can't have someone who's taking money out of their pockets operating on their premises. I'm sorry, I really- I really am."

He is sorry. But more than that he cares quite a lot about how bad this is making him look. Raven can't say she doesn't understand. More than his sympathy, he wants her to know that this wasn't his doing. Perhaps it's a nice sentiment, but mostly, it's in service of his own ego.

"I understand." She understands that seldom is suffering the fault of one, ineffably evil being, but rather the culmination of hundreds and thousands of mouths gone silent, too afraid and too weak and too selfish and-

She can't think like that.

(The thing no one tells you about losing all your humanity and trying to end the world is that it won't feel like a possession by some outside force of evil. It will feel like you. It will feel like all the pain and suffering and ruin that people have brought upon themselves, never learning, making the same mistakes over and over again, building death and destruction for meaningless pursuits, is insurmountable. It will feel like it has to end. Like you have to stop it. Like mankind doesn't deserve another chance, you know they'll only use it to create more wars and more senseless cruelty. It has to stop. You can stop it, you have to stop it. You're the only one who can. You're the only one who knows how selfish and cruel and vile they really are. And it won't feel like ending the world. It will feel like doing it a kindness.)

"I really am sorry, Raven."

(The Lord saw how great the wickedness of the human race had become on the earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time. The Lord regretted that he had made human beings on the earth, and his heart was deeply troubled. So the Lord said, “I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race I have created—and with them the animals, the birds and the creatures that move along the ground—for I regret that I have made them.)

"I know you are."

Raven doesn't linger. She doesn't enjoy overstaying her welcome, teleports directly into the theater across the bay.

The lights are all on but it's still easy for Raven to slink into the shadow of the burgundy upholstered wall and observe unnoticed. If Gar senses her presence he doesn't reveal it. He's sat in the front row with the theater manager and a smattering of crew members as two kids in plain clothes act through a tense scene.

"Cut!" The child director yells even though Raven is fairly certain that phrase is only intended for film. She climbs on stage and begins talking quickly at the actors. After a round of affirmative nods, she jumps back off the stage and the scene starts again. Halfway through, Gar finally cranes his neck over his shoulder and grins at her, radiant, the whole room turns brighter.

When the scene ends, this time with Garfield's overly enthusiastic clapping, he jogs up the isle to meet her. "Hey!"

His excitement curves slightly, concern blooming in tandem with the furrow of his brow. "What are you doing here?"

She's becoming predictable. That's the trouble with seeking comfort from others, they begin to learn the tells. Raven does her best impression of a smile. "Can't a girl stop by to visit a friend? Besides, I heard this is about to be the hottest new show in all of California."

"Oh it is, you better believe it, baby." His concern hasn't been dismissed, but he really is a good actor.

"I thought we could go get dinner. When you're done."

"Yeah, sure. I'm- actually were pretty much wrapped up, give me like fifteen?"

"Gar!" Someone from the stage yells and Gar curses under his breath and runs back down the isle. Raven trails behind him and takes a seat in the third row.

"…You're right there, but I think you could push the emotion even more. Remember it's okay to let the vocals take a backseat, it's not about hitting a perfect note it's about getting the audience to feel things. And sometimes that means adding imperfections. Don't be afraid to push it even more."

Raven, frankly, has no idea if that is good acting advice, but the boy Gar is giving it to nods fervently and says. "Yeah, yeah I'll remember that, thanks Gar!"

The director then stands up on the chair and claps her hands. "Okay! Remember we're doing a full run through on Thursday so don't be late!" She sits down, then stands back up. "Oh! And if you haven't scheduled a fitting with Tori already do it now or she will kill you!"

She claps her hands together and gives a thumbs up before turning on her heel to where Raven is attempting to be inconspicuous.

"Oh my gosh, are you Raven? I'm Kaylee, The Director, Gar's told us so much about you!" The girl sticks her hand out with a precocious grin. It's no surprise that she's the one in charge.

"I'm sure he has. It's nice to meet you Kaylee."

"Wow, I can't believe I'm meeting an actual superhero."

Gar trails up behind her with an afronted gasp. "Hey! What am I? Chopped liver?"

Kaylee shrugs. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Ouch." Gar clutches his heart like he's been shot and mimes dying.

Raven and Kaylee both ignore him. "I'm very impressed with all you've done here."

"Okay I know you're a superhero so you like have to say that, but thanks!"

"Again, I'm a superhero." Gar wines.

Kaylee rolls her eyes. "Again, you don't count."

Gar puts on a fake sniffle. "Damn, Kay, you know words hurt."

"Pfft… don't be jealous just because your girlfriend is way cooler than you."

Gar squeezes his fists together and then loops a hand around Raven's elbow. "Alright- lets- um- Rave- time to- see you all tomorrow, bye!" He says, all but dragging her out the front door and into the night air.

"Okay." He says when the door has safely slammed shut. "Hey."

They've already done their greetings, but Raven indulges him. "Hello."

"I um- didn't say that, just so you know. I wouldn't- I mean, we're not, so-"

"Gar, it's fine." The panic drains out of him. "Other people's assumptions don't concern me."

"Right, yeah. Good, um… so where did you want to go?"

There is a vegan taco truck that permanently resides down at the pier which Gar loves, so that is where Raven suggests. The dregs of winter are still washing through the streets, regardless of what that groundhog supposedly saw. It's perhaps too chilly for a normal human to enjoy an outdoor meal, but Gar doesn't complain. Even tolerates they aimless walk she takes them on after the meal is through. It's easy enough to spur him onto a topic of conversation that allows him to do most of the work while Raven inspects the sound of the ocean tide.

"…and I think so many people just don't even give 'em a chance, ya know? Like they expect kids to be dumb and so then they are. And like, you know obviously we aren't making the next Hamilton or anything, but it's pretty dang good and they basically did it all themselves. I just hope it goes well. I mean, I know it will, but I hope people show up. You know they even made all the fliers themselves? And they're good. Like actually good."

The metal railing is cool, and likely dirty beyond comprehension, but Raven leans her arms on it regardless. Gar hops up on it like a seat, and if he were anyone else she'd be worried about him falling backward and in to the ocean. He's always more relaxed at night. Maybe it's a biological thing, or the fact that people are less likely to spot him from a mile away in the low light. Though even his calm is a firestorm compared to some people. He's calm in the way the ocean is calm, even when the waves settle the tide never stills.

"What?" Gar swings back and Raven realizes that she's been staring at him for  too long. She has perhaps run out of the allotted duration with which she can not participate in the conversation.

"Nothing. You're very good with them, the kids."

Gar's pride warms the air around them and he bites down his own smile. "Yeah, well, they're good kids."

"Not just them. You've always been good with children."

"Well it helps that I'm so young at heart."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'childish'."

"Sticks and stones, Ravey."

"I mean it though, you'd make a good parent."

"Oh, well thanks?" Gar hops down from the railing and leans against it so that they're face to face. "You're being weirdly nice to me."

"I am always nice to you."

Gar snorts and wiggles his eyebrows. "Right."

"Do you ever think about having them?"

"What? Kids?" He makes a face at her like it's an unusually bizarre line of questioning. But it's a perfectly reasonable one. Gar has always loved children. They're a mainstay in their line of work, and Raven has noticed the way he works to prioritize not only their actual safety, but their comfort, their entertainment. Even the theater, there are plenty of community programs for adults, but that's not the one he chose.

And loath as he might be to admit it, he is getting older. Their friends have begun procreating. It wouldn't be unusual for him to start considering the prospect of having his own children. "Yes."

But Gar goes cold and twisted, smiling tightly. "Eh, not sure the Tower would be a good environment for a baby, ya know."

"Eventually though?"

"I- I don't know. I guess I've never really thought about it. Why? Do you? Oh god please tell me this isn't your way of telling me that your-"

Raven tries not to laugh at the sudden onset of his panic. "No. No, you know that I can't do that."

Which isn't to say she never worries about some demonic spawn superseding biological impossibilities of her missing womb. She spent months after the surgery terrified, paranoid that her uterus would just magically grow back.

Thankfully, it hasn't, and after a decade she's almost entirely put the fear that it ever will to rest.

"Right, yeah, I know." Gar exhales as the panic recedes. "Do you ever-"

The question dies midair and Garfield falls silent. "What?"

"Never mind, it's none of my business."

If she's being honest, everything about her is his business. "If it's not I won't answer."

"Do you ever regret it? Not- not to say that you should. I mean obviously it's your body and you'd know best it's just you were so young and-"

"Gar, relax." Thankfully he does. She appreciates his posturing, though unnecessary.

"And no. I don't regret it." If it were anyone else, she might leave it there. And really, what more is there to say? She doesn’t regret it. It was something she needed at the time, she doesn’t know how she would have managed otherwise. So really what else is there to say? Just because the concept of motherhood doesn’t send a blind terror down her spine anymore, just because it’s something she could conceive of handling, even imagine wanting, it doesn’t really matter, does it? She could never live with herself for passing on this curse to another person, let alone her own child.

”Well, good then.” Gar stalls.

"There are things that I've… mourned, in away. About who I am, what I am. And there are times where that has been part of it, but no, I don't regret it.”

Raven closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at him anymore. “I spent so much time afraid that my body would be used to further my father's goals, that I wouldn't have a choice-"

She's lucky for the cold and the wind for staving off any threat that she might cry. The older she's gotten, the more she's been able to let in her emotions, the more difficult this has become to talk about.

Raven smiles for Gar's sake. "It's good to be free of that fear."

‘I’m sorry.’ Is what she thinks he wants to say, ‘I love you.’ Might be a close second. But instead he just smiles back at her and spins around, leaning his cheek on the horribly unclean guardrail.

"You know I think you're the br-"

"If you say brave I will rip your spleen out." She's fairly sure he could survive it.

"No, yup, mhmm. Understood."

He never answered her question. Dancing around the obvious answer and she understands why. Expected this, even. Gar is still living under the assumption that this relationship is sustainable in the long term. That they were built for more than just a convenience between overly attached teammates who have lived far too close together for far too long.

So of course he'd lie.

He probably doesn't even realize it's a lie. Spent so long with the knowledge that she couldn't have children, wouldn't have children, that he's convinced himself it's an acceptable sacrifice. Perhaps convinced himself that he doesn't even want children of his own in the first place.

But Raven hopes she's at least succeeded at reminding him that it is something he wants. Hopes she's at least planted the seed.

"You know," Gar says matter of factly. "I always kinda figured if I had a kid I would be the one pregnant."

Raven chokes on her own spit. "What? Why?"

"I dunno. Just to see if I could. I mean there's just so many questions. Like, I've never had a period but I've also never like, tried you know? And would I have to stay in one form the whole time or could I still shift? And if I did shift where would the fetus go? Like would it just hang out as like a tumor, what if I shifted into something smaller than it? Would I die? Would it die? Who knows. But like, only one way to find out. Like, you know I laid an egg once? Okay, actually sort of more than once, and me and Vic tested them, obviously they weren't like fertilized or anything. But like, if I got pregnant and then turned into a chicken and laid an egg, would I have a chicken baby? I mean maybe they'd have my powers but like what if it was just a chicken? Or like, a chicken human hybrid? Because presumably- well I'm not fucking any actual chickens that's for sure."

Raven desperately tries to process that slew of information, though she sort of wishes she hadn't heard any of it at all.

"Anyway," Gar shrugs." So far that's the only reason I could really come up with that would be enough of a motivation to ever have a kid."

"What? For science?"

"Exactly! For science." Gar grins as if it's only that simple.

She knows he has his fair share of hangups about what it means to be a man, both in the species sense and in the gendered sense, and what it means that he isn't always one. She's not entirely sure that experimental pregnancy is the solution to that, but who is she to tell anyone how to process their emotions. Raven still remembers him at sixteen, white knuckle gripping to some idealized vision of masculinity he thought he needed to live up to (at the expense of anyone who had the misfortune of being around his insufferable posturing). She's glad he's outgrown that, even if it means bearing witness to whatever bizarre experiments he and Victor get up to.

"So… um. When you say you tested the eggs…?"

"In the lab! God! Jesus, it's like you think we're animals sometimes."

"Well…"

Chapter Text

If Gar knows one thing: it's that when shit hits the fan, make sure you've got an umbrella. And sometimes he's that umbrella.

Being an umbrella means convincing himself that there's no where he'd rather be on a Thursday afternoon than on the set of a podcast dressed up to look like a normal living room while flood lights blind him from three different directions, with a host who's biggest accomplishment is fondling Lex Luthor's ball sack. Jee, what a dream come true.

"So. I feel like I don't even need to do an introduction, everyone knows who you are."

It goes like this, right? Kid gets bit by a mosquito while playing in the middle of the Kakamega forest (because sure, bring your toddler to a remote research outpost, sure, that's good parenting. Whatever, he's mostly over it.) but instead of turning into Spider-Man or something he just gets really, really sick and almost dies. Lucky for him though, his parents have been researching this weird, green monkey that was just discovered (important note, the monkey wasn't a green monkey, as in Chlorocebus sabaeus, which aren't actually green, and also aren't in Kenya. The monkey in question was actually what turned out to be a mutated colobus monkey which he learned later had underwent experiments in the 60's by the U.S. government to recreate Martian molecular destabilization, and then had been released back into the wild after the program shut down and ended up crossbreeding with the local population of black and white colobus monkeys) and that monkey is immune to Sakutia (probably from all the government experimenting) so they use said monkey's blood to create a serum that saves the kid's life. So the kid lives, but now he's green which is mostly fine because again, remote research station so it's not like he's around very many people anyway. But then the parents die, which really sucks, and the kid gets sent back state side which sucks even more and there's no way to get around the green thing. The kid can't go anywhere without the stares and the questions and the disgust, which is pretty rough, if you're a kid (and also if you're a grown up, it doesn't ever stop sucking actually) And so the kid decides that if people are going to look at him, well he might as well give them something to look at. And that's when the ambition sets in. If he's going to be a freak, well he might as well be a freak with sixty-three million Instagram followers.

And if that kid asked him how it feels now that the world knows his name, how it feels to be seen as more than just some green freak, Gar would lie.

"Oh I don't know about everyone, you'd be amazed at how often they get my name wrong at Starbucks." Pre-taping notes include: make a joke about Starbucks so that everyone knows you're a totally cool relatable dude, and also, Starbucks is paying us for the publicity.

"Oh me too man, I mean what is with those people? But seriously, you've been an superhero since you were what? Twelve? You've been on some of the biggest teams of my lifetime, and you've been at the front of some of the most viral internet trends of all time. All time. And let’s be honest, you're a hard face to forget." Actually, if Gar had to guess he'd say that his face is the least memorable thing about himself.

"Yeah, I mean I wouldn't say I'm Taylor Swift or anything, but I'd say I'm, ya know… recognizable." Fuck, he can see the headline already 'Half bit hero compares himself to Taylor Swift.'

"For sure! I mean you're the only green- can I say green? Is that offensive? Do you prefer chartreuse?"

God, this guy's an asshole.

"No, ha- yeah green is fine." He smiles for the camera, but not at the camera. Why do podcasts even have cameras anyway?

"Right so you're, I mean you're basically the only green person on the planet, that's gotta get you a lot of attention, even from people who don't know who you are. What's that like?"

Gar is not the only green person on the planet. He can name at least three others and that's not even including the part timers like M'gann or that crazy plant lady.

"Yeah, yeah- so, I've pretty much always been like this, so it's kind of like- normal for me now, you know? It's sort of this constant attention. I definitely don't have the same level of anonymity as other people." There's a reason why he latched onto the first group of freaks he could find like a stray cat, it's easier when he's in a pack. Easier when there's a decaying mansion he can hole himself up in and international missions he can go on instead of suffering through high school.

"Absolutely. Like, even I can put on a hoodie and sunglasses and go to the gas station for a six pack, and yeah, someone might recognize me, or they might go 'hey, I think that guy looks familiar?' and then forget about it. But if they don't know who I am, or maybe they know me but don't know my face, then I'm just another guy buying a beer, right?"

"Ha, yeah exactly." It's not like everyone stares at him all the time. Five percent of the world is colorblind.

"And you've been very open, in terms of like your personal life compared to a lot of other people who do what you do. Was that an intentional choice or just something that happened?"

"Yeah, I mean it was sort of like, even if I had been really careful, not shown my face or something, I think people would've put two and two together. And even if they didn't, it wasn't like there was any way for me to hide who I was without like becoming a total shut in, which, lets just say, isn't the lifestyle for me."

"Has that been hard? Must feel like you're always on the job right? Like when Nightwing clocks out he can go get wasted in a club or be rude to waiters but for you you're always tied to the Titans." There are a lot of downsides to the perpetual lack of anonymity Gar lives with, but he can't say that not being able to be rude to waiters is one of them. Like what the actual fuck?

"Ha, yeah okay well I can promise that Nightwing isn't doing that, but, I mean you know what they say: it ain't easy being green."

"Oh you and Kermit must get along great."

Gar has a cute little anecdote about the time he binged every single episode of the muppets plus all the movies plus muppet babies plus the new revival show and didn't come out of his room for a whole month straight because he couldn't deal with being alive in the aftermath of his first girlfriend betraying him and then dying, which now that he thinks about it, isn't really a cute story at all.

"Oh you've got no idea. You know Joey, a lotta people assume that I'm just a normal human can turn into animals, but that's actually not true."

"It's not?"

"Nope." Gar shifts down into a tree frog and hops across the table. Dryophytes cinereus has totally the wrong anatomy for vocal control, but Gar forces the sound out. "I'm actually just a frog, who can shape shift into a human."

He shifts back into his seat while Joe Shmo turns into giggleshits in his seat. What can Gar say? He lives to entertain.

"Ha! Oh come on man, that's not true is it?"

Gar shrugs. "It could be. Guess you'll never know." He winks at the camera.

"So is it any animal? Or are there limits?"

"Any animal." Gar makes another show: rock dove, emerald tree boa, chicken, malachite butterfly, silver carp, golden retriever, silverback gorilla. He bunches his legs up in the chair and leans his chin on his oversized knuckles. "Should we do the rest of interview like this?"

"Just don't break my chair, man." Gar shrinks back into a human (ish) form.

"So, I think the burning question on everyone's mind- on my mind at least, is what the hell happens to your clothes?" And it must really be a burning question, because every single interview he's ever done has asked him the same damn question.

"Yeah, so, when I was on the Doom Patrol, I had a special suit that basically folded up into my collar, which worked maybe, nine out of ten times. As you can imagine I went though a lot of suits. But um, these days it's a spell."

"A spell? Really?"

"Yup. Courtesy of my favorite witch. That's actually what these are." Gar holds out his arms to show the swirling black ink on the inside of his forearms. "It's enchanted ink, to help with longevity- or something, I don't totally understand how it works- you'd have to ask her."

"And by 'her' I assume you're talking about The Raven?"

Gar doesn't know where the whole The Raven thing came from. Like it's a title instead of a name. But Raven has never corrected the press seeing as that would require her to actually talk to the press. Raven doesn't exactly do interviews.

"The one and only."

"Man, she is such a mystery, I would love to have her on the show." In your dreams. Gar doubts she'll even listen to the episode, which is honestly for the best because he sounds like a massive tool. "So speaking of your teammates, what's that dynamic like? I mean some of you have been working and- and living together for over ten years. Would you say you're all close?"

"Yeah, yeah, absolutely. The Titans are- we're family, there's not really more to it. And don't get me wrong, family can get on your nerves, but at the end of the day there's no one who I'd rather have by my side." He hopes he doesn't sound as much like a character from a PBS cartoon as he thinks he does.

"Absolutely, that's how it goes right? I mean like, some of the guys on my crew have been with me since you know, I was just a dude with a mic in a basement and it's true you really do become like family." Gar doubts that. "But you know I have to ask… what about romance? I mean you put all those men and women together…"

"Ha- yeah, well it's not like love island or anything, but you know." Coy smile, give them nothing while making it sound like something. What can he say? The people love the emotional edging of thinking he's just about to crack and spill every sordid secret that confirms what the shippers have been saying for years.

"I don't know. Please tell us."

They rehearsed this dance. (We'll talk about your love life a little, tease a bit, and you'll stay the tight lipped man of mystery…. unless?) Yet it's still managing to piss Gar off.

Gar says, "Well I'm not one to kiss and tell..." because it sounds a lot better than I think my girlfriend would castrate me if I talked about us on a live podcast.

"See," He taps a finger against his skull, real life genius that one. "that just makes me think there is something to tell."

Gar shrugs. "Look I'll just say, we're all human- well, most of us."

"I knew it! You dog! Not that I can blame you, I mean Starfire, Wondergirl, there's some beautiful women on the team."

"And men." Gar adds, because the least he can do is be an equal opportunity objectifier.

"So true, so true, I mean who hasn't wanted to get a peak of Nightwing behind the mask, if you know what I mean?"

Gar laughs as if this guy is actually funny. "Oh yeah, totally."

"Speaking of your teammates, lets talk about Starfire." Gar would really rather not, but after all that's the whole reason he's here. (Umbrella, remember?) "I mean did you see that incident down in San Diego?"

"Yeah, yeah." Gar didn't just see it, he also bore witness to the excruciating two hour yelling match between Kory and Dick that followed, the vaguely threatening voicemail from the president's press secretary and the host of headlines and think pieces from 'journalists' looking to gather the most hits from their inflammatory headlines.

"I mean that was crazy, man. And look, look, I don't want to get political or anything but that was- holy shit I was just watching it at home and I was scared."

Gar tries not to roll his eyes, just a few weeks ago, Kory put a hole through a forty foot robot, and she's the people's hero, but she yells at a couple of ICE agents and suddenly she's scary.

"Starfire didn't hurt anybody."

"Well no, but she did rip an armored car in half, I mean I'm no expert but those things ain't cheap." Gar does know how much they cost, considering he's the one who paid for it.

"She was protecting people. Look, Star has the strongest sense of justice of anyone I've ever met, and she's willing to fight for it. We all are. I mean- that's why we do this, to protect people. And the fact is sometimes that gets messy."

"Oh sure, and I'm with you, a hundred percent." Gar doubts that. "But ya know there are a lot of people who say that the people who she was so called "saving" are the very people we need protecting from. And I think when you have these super people, these gods essentially, who think that they're above the law, who think they can be arbiters of justice, it's- it's scary man."

"Starfire has more than earned the people's trust by now don't you think?"

"For some people, sure. But the fact of the matter is, you’re private citizens, sometimes not even citizens, I mean- Starfire isn't even from earth. She's basically a foreign actor, making decisions on what the U.S government can and can't do. I mean, you say she's got a 'strong sense of justice' so what happens when she decides that the government isn't doing a good job anymore? What's really stopping her from going to DC and overtaking the government."

It's nothing Gar hasn't heard before. Rogue billionaires and foreign sovereigns allowed to run rampant in the streets, making their own calls, following their own moral compass, using might as right. Gar's heard every insult, every ideological complaint about who they are and what they do. And the thing is they're true. He didn't ask for his powers, he sure as hell didn't do anything to deserve them. He's spent enough time arguing the ethics just within the confines of his own head, but here's the thing: when it's real, and you've got the choice to do nothing or save a life, none of that other bullshit really matters.

"She wouldn't do that."

"But she could. See what I mean? People need reassurance that they can trust the world's 'heroes' to follow the law. There has to be some oversight."

"And you think that should be who? I mean we've seen state controlled metas before, it doesn't end well."

"Well sure, but- we can't have heroes running around threatening government agents, that presents a threat to all of democracy."

"When the government decides to arrest people without due process don't you think that presents a threat to all of democracy?"

"Well… sure. I guess. But there still has to be some accountability, don't you think?"

"We keep each other accountable."

"And you think that's good enough?" He thinks its better than becoming leashed dogs for the military who wouldn't hesitate to have use them as pointed guns for whoever stood in their way.

"Yeah. I do."

"Alright well I guess we're just gonna have to agree to disagree. So, tell me about this new Superboy…"

Gar only gets one foot on the pavement before his arms turn to wings and he bolts out of the city. Wind splits through his feathers as he soars higher and higher until he breaks through the clouds. Higher still, the air grows cold and thin in the unobstructed sunlight, to think there are clear blue skies just above the permagloom of Jump City in winter. Humans can only breathe up to around twenty thousand feet before things start getting dicey and there's nothing quite like suffocating in wide open air. Luckily, birds are a little better in that arena. He heads up and east until he's over the wide open hills, blued out through the layers of sky and then pulls the feathers back into his skins, wings stretching out and sprouting new bones as his mass rapidly builds.

And then he's falling.

                       falling.

                     falling.

                       falling.

He's always surprised just how long it lasts, the falling. Free falls makes him think boom, snap, dead on the pavement. But it isn't like that at all. It just keeps going, he gets used to it in a way that makes him almost forget that he's plummeting towards the earth at over a hundred miles per hour. Shit, he really hopes his phone doesn't fall out of his pocket. Maybe one day he'll screw it up. Pass out before he can shift, or splatter onto the nose of a plane. Get the timing wrong and boom, snap, dead on the pavement. As far as ways to go, doesn't seem so bad.

He counts to a hundred before chickening out and sprouting wings like a ripcord. Peregrines can withstand a ridiculous amount of torque, and Gar has to order the transition just right or he will throw up and maybe also lose consciousness (in which case: boom, snap dead on the side of a mountain).

Falcons are fast but too easy, millions of years of evolution building it into the perfect flying machine, shooting across the sky like a bullet, and he gets bored of that too. He finds the road again and dives until he's flying next semis. Legs sprout, knobby and unassuming and Gar grows until he's running with all the speed and none of the grace of Struthio camelus. No one ever expects ostriches to be fast and they mostly think it's a joke when he turns into one but the truth is they're terrifying as fuck. Modern reincarnation of their theropod ancestors. Sure they don't have the size or the aesthetic of a T-rex, but they will absolutely kill a man if he gets too close. But the common ostrich is ultimately too slow still, he ditches the feathers entirely, trading wings for slender spotted legs. The green cheetah sprints along the nearly barren highway and that finally feels fast enough and hard enough.

But he gets tired of that too. Antidorcas marsupialis, Connochaetes taurinus, Lepus californicus, Antilocapra americana, back to plain old Homo sapiens. Gar runs until his feet won't stay under him and crash somersaults onto the wild grass, breath heavy, limbs pulsating meat bags hanging limp from his torso, ringing in his ears that rattles whenever a car speeds by him. Between his own sweat and the grass, his white t-shirt is totally cooked.

He thinks about turning into an earthworm and starting a new life right there in the dirt, instead he taps on his watch.

"Hello?" She picks up on the first ring, which would be more of a compliment if he didn't know the comm. was directly in her ear.

"Hey. Can you come pick me up?" He's willing to accept whatever verbal lashing she deems necessary for asking in the first place in exchange for not having to fly all the way home on his own two wings.

"Why? Where are you?"

"Um, I'm not sure. Somewhere near Reno?"

Gar can practically hear her thoughts in the silence: Seriously, Gar? You fucking idiot.

"Fine. Send me your coordinates."

Gar does and then collapses back in the grass. A dark shadow sets in only seconds later, blocking out his sun. Gar opens his eyes and there she is, hovering above him, light splashing out around her in a golden halo. Even though he ditched the earthworm plan, she still kind of makes him feel like one.

"Thanks, angel." He can't get a good read on her silhouetted features, so he's just going to pretend she's smiling at him and not completely pissed.

"You know, I'm starting to think you're only friends with me for my portals." Friends. sure.

"Nuhuh. Also for the sex."

Raven floats down from the heavens and sits in the grass next to him. "What are you doing out here?"

"Running. Got tired."

"Uh huh. And what was your plan? For if I didn't answer?" Lie here until she answered.

"Didn't really think that far ahead."

"Of course you didn't."

"I woulda figured it out." He's got wings after all. And there's busses. And planes. Hell, he could rent a private chopper if he really wanted to.

Raven leans forward to rest her cheek against her bare knees. "Right. You okay?"

"I dunno, you tell me." She's the one with a tap on his emotions after all.

"Come on, let's go home."

Chapter Text

Sunlight streams in through the rustling linen curtains, Gar must have left the window open again. The light dances over his emerald skin, illuminating the web of freckles across his shoulder blade as it rises and falls under the gentle breath of his sleep. He stirs when Raven reaches out to chart the pattern, twisting slow in the white bed sheet to face her. Raven has never seen a more radiant smile than the one he keeps for her.

"Morning, Angel." Garfield is a jukebox of improper pet names and ineloquent diminutives. Babe, honey, doll. He bestows them like candy: sugary sweet and indiscriminate. It isn't about her, so Raven bites back the urge to protest. She is no angel. To assert so would border on mockery cruel enough that she might be inclined to throw him from her bed.

But it isn't personal.

And besides, Gar's hand is so warm against her cheek. His lips are so warm against her mouth, then her shoulder. How could she be expected to defy him? He burrows his face into the crook of her neck, hand falling to palm at her naked hip to pull her flush against him. He is so warm. It boarders on painful. Hot breath tickling like an insect at the nape of her neck as his thigh slides between her parted kneed and that heat- well that may be coming from her.

"I missed you." Gar mumbles into her neck.

It's an incredibly endearing notion: that he can not bear the separation that begets his own sleep.

"I've been here the whole time."

Gar rolls them both, sandwiching her between the hard line of his body and the firm mattress. "Exactly."

He kisses her like honey. Slow drip that unspools in the heat and he takes to tugging at her bottom lip, sucking like he's trying to swallow her whole. And perhaps that is the goal: total and irreversible enmeshment. Gar kisses her like he's trying to merge them into a singular being and Raven contemplates letting him.

That would make things so much easier. For her, at least. The abandonment of her physical body: she could live forever within the confines of his own consciousness. Not forever, perhaps. She'd be free of that curse too. To be transformed into something unknown, something more than she already is. He could sculpt away the evil that lies at her center. And she might finally feel relief from that overbearing pit that lies in her stomach urging- craving to pull him ever closer, to never leave his side. He would never be alone again. She could always be with him, protecting him, caring for him, loving him. She can already feel the seams where their skin has gone hot and damp begin to meld together. Green spilling into her gaunt flesh like ink to paper.

The flesh tears slightly when he pulls his mouth away, the process is still fresh. Gar instead buries his nose in her ebony hair, which Raven supposes is an equally acceptable junction.

"God, I love you." The words spill like a prayer out of Gar's lips. Like he is speaking to his god directly, address instead of exclamation. It flows so freely and nestles in the head of her spine, as though he's spoken them a thousand times.

Oh.

This isn't real.

The realization is as abrupt as it is certain. Her bedroom has blinds, not curtains. She hadn't noticed. Raven seldom does in these circumstances. Slowly, the components of her bedroom begin to fall apart: the white bed sheets, which are indigo, the dresser which is there and then gone and then containing one too many rows, and Garfield, skin melting into her own like some nightmarish chimera. They're both wearing shirts now. She thought it might hurt: ripping them apart with the intrusion. But blood doesn't start to soak the cotton fabric. Instead it feels like nothing. Raven is no longer hot, or cold, or susceptible to the tickle of his breath on her cheek. Imagined reality bends to her lucid thoughts as easily as they come.

Garfield- the figment she's constructed of him, snickers and tugs at the collar of his shirt but he does not call her a prude. Perhaps because he knows the garments have no connection to modesty as much as they do the representation of separation.

In fact, she'd rather they were sitting. They are sitting. At opposite ends of the bed for good measure. But Garfield quickly climbs back on to her.

"Aww, come on, just enjoy it." He plants a kiss on her shoulder and then she sends him back to his corner.

"You aren't real."

He rolls his eyes. "So?"

So, he knows very well why she cannot just pretend she doesn't know otherwise and allow the fantasy to play out. It's soured like stale milk. Now that she has remembered the world outside of her own mind's silly daydreams there would be no joy in indulging. It would be more akin to torment.

"You aren't really you."

Gar shrugs "Pretty good replica though." He runs his tongue over his canines. "Even got the teeth right."

"Hair is too short." She prefers it that way.

Gar shakes his head and his fringe grows and until it's falling in his eyes.

"C'mon." A hand closes around her ankle as he crawls back over to her, resting his head against her belly as though that might endear her to his case. "Weren't we having a nice time? Just relax."

She returns him to his corner.

"I can't pretend I don't know."

"Sure you can. I think you're just making excuses."

He is infuriating. Only he isn't. because it's not him. The vision of Garfield in front of her only exists because she wants it to. He only says what she wishes him to say, and so the fact that he is making such requests only furthers her anger.

She has no one to blame but herself, and truly there is nothing worse than that.

"You don't think anything. You're a construct of my own will."

"Yeah, exactly, that means you should listen to me."

"That's not how this works." This is bordering on insanity. Perhaps she is past the border entirely. Arguing with one's self is never a good look, and it becomes insurmountably worse when one version of herself is masquerading as her lover and attempting to convince her to indulge in a mirage.

"I'm just telling you what you really want. I would know after all, wouldn't I?"

What she wants, is irrelevant. The magic doesn't work if she can see the glint of the puppet strings protruding from his head and hands and mouth. Just knowing he isn't real sours every sweet word from his lips. It would make her nauseous if her dream state were capable of that degree of interoception.

"You're not as clever as you think you are." Raven says.

Gar rolls his eyes and laces their fingers together, her nails are long and clawed like his. Raven knows better than to count the digits. "I'm exactly as clever as you think I am."

"I can't stay here. I'm sorry." Only, Gar isn't really here. There's no reason to be sorry. Not to him.

When she opens her eyes again her bedroom is dark. No light shines through the metal blinds. Only the dim purple glow of her alarm clock illuminates the room. Much more realistic.

The labyrinth of the corridors buzz from the bright white light that escapes from the seam between wall and floor. Only one living soul remains awake at this hour, tucked away in the depths of the tower's lower levels. Raven doesn't bother with the elevator, falling through floor after floor until she lands on the solid concrete of the garage floor.

Two bare metal feet stick out from beneath the jacked back end of the car. A grease stained hand flails out from the side and waves around. "Can you hand me the 16 mm? It's on the- the-"

Raven spins and rakes her eyes across the mess of tools until she spots the wrench on the base of a rolling stool and hands it under the vehicle, replacing it's spot on the stool. "What are you working on?"

"Driveshaft is all out of alignment." That happened once to Wally's old beater truck, which was old and slow to the point of irony. "Almost- and- there!" Victor rolls out from under the car and wipes the sweat from his forehead. "So? I'm fair game but BB's not?"

Straight to the point then.

"I like you more."

Victor sits up on the dolly and leans against the smooth chrome of the car door. "Well, I know that's not true."

It is the truth. At least when it comes to dreamt up mimics manifested within her own psyche. Victor is safer. Talking to him — her memory of him — doesn't hurt the same way Gar does. Perhaps it's because Victor is unreachable in the waking world. Even if she wanted to bend space and go to him, bring him home, she wouldn't know where to find him.

And she does miss him. Maybe that's why she finds this phantom permissible.

"I like you both equally." Victor's one mobile eyebrow hikes up. Raven doesn't appreciate the insinuation that her and Gar's sexual relationship has somehow garnered him additional favor over her other friends. Particularly when that insinuation is rooted in her own subconscious.

"…differently." She concedes.

"Okay, fine I'll buy that. Here, hold this." Victor dismembers his arm and shoves it into her hands, then starts pulling at the wires of his exposed shoulders. Red and blue like the inside of a cartoon bomb. Raven has never had the best grip on advanced cybernetics. "Boom tube's all messed up."

"He really misses you, you know?" Raven says, because it's the easier thing to say. Because it's true.

"Hmm? Who- oh. Yeah, I know. I miss him too."

"I mean, we all miss you. But- it's different for him."

"B's a big boy, he can handle himself."

It's not a question of competence. She nearly snaps at the suggestion that he (she) believes otherwise. She isn't trying to gain pity from him (herself?). Victor isn't actually here, and even if he were she has no intent to guilt him. He wouldn't deserve that.

"I know, I just- I think he might have been better off if he had gone with you."

Victor shrugs and shoves his arm back into it's socket. "Yeah well, it's your fault that he didn't."

Raven flinches and the wheels of her stool squeal in response.

"That's not- I told him he should go."

"Yeah okay sure, you told him that, but it's not like he was going to." Victor fiddles with a socket wrench, tossing it from hand to hand, and Raven can almost believe it's like old times. Like it's another late night chat in the garage. Both of them plagued by the sleeplessness of their less than human physiology. She could always trust him to be honest with her.

"That was his choice."

"You're kidding." Victor tosses the wrench into the air, but it doesn't come back down.

"He could have gone with you." Each and every one of them have been given open invitations from the Justice League, and true, herself and Richard have their own reasons for not accepting, but Gar had never held such resignations. He's perhaps better suited for a team like that than anyone else. Even if they hadn't asked for him specifically in this particular crisis, they wouldn't have turned down his help.

"But he wasn't going to. Of course he wouldn't. Honestly what are you even playing at, Raven?"

"I'm not-"

"Come on, we both know you know why he didn't go with me."

"Gar makes his own decisions, I am not in control of his choices. You can't- you can't blame me for this."

"Like hell I can't. You can't have it both fucking ways. You don't get to treat him like your in some sort of relationship and turn around and act surprised that he'd put his life on hold for you, give up on his dreams for you, like you didn't have anything to do with it."

"I know. I— I did not intend for this to happen. I know this has gone too far, I know I should end it. But I can't just- I do not want to break his heart."

"Cut the crap, Rae. This whole 'I'm just trying not to hurt his feelings' thing is getting old. You haven't left because you don't want to. It's selfish. And sorry, but I can't just sit by while you treat my best friend like shit."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry."

"Are you? Cuz it looks to me like you're just using your guilt as some sort of sick justification. I mean what even is this? 'Oh I'll just go get Cy to yell at me so that I can pay my penance for what a shit person I've been and then go back to doing the exact same thing?' That sure as hell ain't fair to me. The real me. I mean- when I get back are you gonna think about this? Don't wanna sour your own face with the guilt so might as well give it to me. That's fucked up, Raven."

"No, that's not what- I just missed you, okay! I missed you, and I don't know what to do and-"

"Exactly, you missed that I was someone who you could tell all your problems to. Oh everyone loves Victor, he's such a good listener, he's always has the best advice. Ever think I was tired of listening to all your guys' shit. Day after day, 'Cyborg why doesn't Raven like me back?, Cyborg what should I do about Beast Boy's horrible feelings towards me? Cyborg can you fix the fucking refrigerator? Again. I'm not even here and you're finding ways to make your problems my problems. I sick of it."

"I know, I'm sorry, I-"

"God, don't you ever get sick of feeling sorry for yourself?" Gar's voice echos out of the corner of the room as he slinks off the top shelf of metal racks. "It's fucking exhausting."

Victor is gone: pile of metal blocks and wire where he was standing. The car is gone too and it's just her and Gar who leans back against the shelf.

"Honestly Rae, you go around ruining your own life and then look around expecting everyone to feel bad for you, it's a fucking joke."

"I cannot help who I am, I was born to be a destructor, a-"

"But that's the thing, you keep trying to blame your choices on your father, on Azar, anyone but your fucking self. But the truth is, no one is making you do any of this. No one is ruining your life for you, it's all you, it's always been, just you." Raven looks back at herself, dressed in a stark white nightgown and barefoot against the concrete floor. No red seeping into her skin, no second eyes or horns protruding from her skin. She's the spitting image of her mother. When she talks its with both of their voices.

"It's not noble, what you're doing. Just be honest with yourself. At least then maybe someone would be happy."

Raven slams into the gymnasium floor. Hardly more than a foot fall and yet the sound echoes around the room and drawing the attention of all it's occupants. The matting is solid and tacky beneath her fingertips. She's definitely awake now, and she definitely regrets attempting this in a public space.

The distinction between meditation and sleep for her are mostly contextual at this point. Her body requires very little rest to function. Raven doesn't typically allow for such unguided dreaming, but Azar used to encourage it from time to time as an important method of self evaluation. 

Dreams are seldom prophetic in the way most people, particularly the ones who like to dress up as the idea of mages without any true grasp of magic, say. While dreams can become vessels for a host of magical purposes, mostly, they’re are no more than untethered and nonsensical hallucinations of the mind in its attempt to fortify itself. But what most dreams are good for, is identifying lines of distress within the mind.

Raven wouldn't quite call this dream illuminating.

Her unrestricted subconscious tends to favor overly dramatic plays of guilt and self loathing which she doesn't find particularly useful in her wakeful state, but it does leave her moderately off balance.

Are you alright? M'gann offers her little more than a flicker of her eyes from the other side of the gym. She's still fully engaged in the areal sparring match between herself and Conner.

Fine. Only a waste of twenty minutes.

Raven picks herself up from the floor and exits the gym as quickly and quietly as possible.

Gar's door is open. Fluorescent pink light spilling from the string lights lining the seams of the ceiling and walls. He's engrossed in the bright light of the computer screen, oversized headphones so loud she can hear the vaguely familiar rock song blaring from them. She leans against the open door frame and waits.

Light glints across his eyes when they finally meet hers. It's only a flicker and then his eyes are back on the screen, but he does pull down the earphones. "Hey."

"Hi. May I come in?"

"Yeah sure, what's up?"

"Are you busy?"

Gar pushes back from the desk. "Nah, I was just looking at some files Steve sent me."

He's in a surprisingly good mood for it. It isn't that Gar can't talk about, or think about his adoptive father without immediately souring, at least not anymore. The anger has smoothed down over the years, but still, speaking to Mento is a rather irritating task. For anyone.

"I thought you weren't speaking."

Gar shrugs and bobbles his head. "We're not not speaking."

Right. That makes complete sense.

"I uh- asked him to look at some stuff about our mystery megazord."

"Should I know what that means?"

"The giant robot."

The giant robot is troubling. No clear motive, no clear directive. Which perhaps they should be grateful for, it was relatively quickly apprehended. But it dangles like a loose thread of yarn that has yet to unravel.

"Oh. Well that was… big of you." Raven remembers a time when he would seize up at the mere suggestion of asking Steve for anything remotely resembling help.

Gar snorts. "Yeah, sure."

"I just meant-"

"I know what you meant."

"Okay. Sorry."

"Hey-" Gar taps her shin with his toe. "You okay?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno. You just seem- never mind. Um, what did you need?"

"Oh, nothing. I was thinking about your idea."

Gar swivels back and forth in his overpriced black and purple gaming chair. "Oh, yeah, great. What idea?"

"About taking a vacation."

"Oh, that. Have you finally realized that it's a totally amazing idea?" More accurately, Raven doesn't quite no what to do with herself anymore. The team is a lot bigger than it used to be, which results in an unprecedented amount of leisure time. And now that she's been more or less banned from JC General she's beginning to run out of ways to fill it. She's starting to turn to ill advised practices like intentionally subjecting herself to her own nightmares.

"Those aren't the words I would use, but- I do think it could be good for me."

"Oh- oh. Really?" To his credit, Gar remains rather neutral in his physical reaction, but the joy burst from him with enough force to make her stumble if she hadn't already been hovering a centimeter off the floor.

Raven foregoes the ground entirely and climbs into Gar's lap. "Really."

"Well… great! That's um- totes awesome- I mean- you did mean- you do want to go together?"

Raven smooths out the crinkle above his brow with the pad of her thumb. "If you're amenable to that."

"Yeah, I'd say I'm amenable."

"Good. But I'm not doing any of the planning."

Gar nods with fervor. "No problemo."

"And no resorts." Raven slides her hand down his face and through the coarse stubble of his chin. She's particularly fond of the feel of his pulse under her thumb and the way it quickens in time with his uneven breath.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good."

"Great. Um… I should probably get back to-"

"Right." Raven is up at a speed that could not quite be accounted for by the physics of her own body. She tries not to use her telekinesis on her own body too often. Too many lectures from Dick about not letting her muscles atrophy from under use. "I'll leave you to it."

"Wait, Rave -"

"Yes?"

Gar opens his mouth then squeezes it shut again. "Nothing."

Chapter Text

There's an assassin on Gar's couch.

Well, technically it's a communal couch paid for by the combined efforts of his, Dick's, and Vic's asshole fathers' contributions to the NGO that funds reconstruction of the tower every time it gets blown up or some guy who was literally born yesterday lasers through the living room furniture. But Gar and Vic were the ones who picked it out, with intense detail to comfort, function, and style. And since Vic is somewhere between here and and Betelgeuse right now, that makes it Gar's couch.

Said assassin is curled up around one of the faux fur throw pillows, white hair spilling out from beneath M'gann's hand knit blanket, snoring like a steam engine.

Aaaaand there go his dreams of getting a jump on the T.V. for an all day Stargate marathon before any of those little assholes he calls friends and teammates could beat him to it.

He didn't account for this particular little asshole, who hasn't shown her face around the tower in at least a year. Last he heard she was somewhere in northern Cambodia, but it's not like she sends routine updates exactly.

He's got half a mind to turn right around and go straight back to bed. For once let this be someone, anyone, else's problem.

Instead, he settles for chucking one of his slides at her head. (They're made out of foam, okay?)

"Ow!" Rose groans into the couch. "Hell was that for?"

"How did you get in here?"

There's an arsenal laid out on the coffee table: swords and guns piling up like a stash of loot. Rose digs another knife out from in between her side and the couch cushion as she sits up and tosses it on the top before throwing Gar's shoe back at his chest.

Wow, it really is so sweet that she feels comfortable enough to disarm here, really heartwarming when you think about it. Or at least it would be, if she hadn't also broken into their tower.

Rose laces her hands together and stretches them above her head, twisting until she makes a horrible popping sound. "Your security is shit."

"No, it isn't." Once again, the combined efforts of asshole fathers made sure of that. The entire island is fortified up the wazoo. If anything bigger than a bald eagle so much as lands on the shore the alarm is supposed to trigger.

"It really is. You should be thanking me honestly, think of it like white hat hacking. And I don't even charge."

Rose bats her eyelashes with her good eye, she doesn't cover the left one anymore. She looks good. As in, not covered in bruises or blood and her hair looks like it's been washed in the past week.

Still, showing up unannounced is exactly her M.O. and it continues to be a huge pain in his ass ever single time.

"You can't just show up here like this- I mean what if someone had thought you were an intruder? They could have attacked you, and they'd be right to."

Rose huffs and shuts her eye solemnly. "I know, I was counting on it. No one ever showed though." She jumps over the back of the couch and makes a straight line for the fridge. "Honestly, you should be embarrassed."

Gar beats her too it and leans back against the fridge. "What are you doing here, Rose?"

"I was in the neighborhood."

"Cut the bullshit."

Rose snickers and pulls open the pantry door instead. "Ooh. So serious. Little Garfield's all grown up now?"

"I'm older than you." By like three years, he might add. Rose glares at him, eyeing him up and down with an unsubtle look of disgust.

"Are you? That's embarrassing."

"What-that- whatever." He's not going to let her evil bitch act get to him, particularly because he knows she's just doing it to piss him off. Gar hits the intercom above the light switch. "Everyone meet in the ops room, we're having an emergency security meeting."

His voice blares out through the tower and he can hear the collective groaning of annoyed teenagers.

"Cassie, your girlfriend's here."

"I just want to state for the record. She's not my girlfriend."

Yeah, sure, that seems like a reasonable first order of business. Cassie is standing up in front of the table with her arms crossed the way Dick does when he leads meetings. Only Dick has always had the good sense not to bring up the status of his situationships during official meetings.

"No one cares about your relationship drama Cass." Virgil flops his head over the back of his chair. Gar wouldn't say anyone is too happy about his unplanned Saturday morning meeting, but honestly that's not on him. He isn't the one who decided to break into their fucking tower in the middle of the night.

"For the record," Jaime tips back in his chair dangerously close to tipping the whole thing over. "We care. Your tragic love life is like prime entertainment around here."

Cassie whips her head around. "Oh fuck off Jai-"

"Guys. Now is really not the time for this." Dick's voice pours out of the wall speakers like the disembodied voice of God. Gar made the right call hooking his video up to the main monitor screen. Having Dick's face projected in high res. onto a 10 foot screen really brings the right kind of vibe to this meeting. It's almost better than having him actually here.

"Nightwing is right. This represents a serious security concern for us." Kory says from the actual head of the table.

Jackson snorts. "It's just Rose."

"Exactly, and if she could get in here, that means others could to." The giant Dick head says.

Rose is smart, sure. And she's a damn good fighter. But there are people out there who are just as smart and way more powerful than her who would do a lot more than just raid their fridge if they got in this place. So it is a big deal, actually.

"Look, I know security has been a bit lax with Cyborg on league business, but that means we all have to be extra vigilant." Lax is an understatement honestly. The truth is, between the whole fucking twelve of them (eleven with Dick off visiting bat dad) they've got about a five percent understanding of how anything in the tower works. Which is not, like, great.

"How did she get passed our security?" Emiko asks.

Gar sighs: this is the best part. "She won't tell us."

M'gann pipes up. "I could find out, if she is not will-"

A chorus of 'no's comes from Gar, Kory, Raven, and Dick and M'gann winces.

"Understood."

"I have a… friend who can look through the tower's security system and see if we can figure it out."

"Thank you Dick, and tell your friend, thank you, too." Kory says, whole thing sounding weirdly cordial and not just because she and Dick both have their serious meeting voices on. Gar knows exactly three things about Barbra Gordon: she's the only person who's ever beaten Vic at chess, she makes a mean cranberry sauce, and Dick and Kory get weird when they talk about her.

Conner coughs. "So, what are we going to do about this Rose person?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cassie spits out with a bit too much bark.

"She's not a titan. Just her being here is a security risk."

"Why is she even here?" Virgil asks. Gar can't blame him. Or Conner. Neither of them know Rose. Not like the rest of them do.

"Oh I can guess." Jackson whispers to Jaime who snickers.

Cassie's chair screeches against the floor. "Seriously, fuck both of you."

"Well, she can't stay in the tower obviously." Conner says.

Virgil nods. "Unless we're changing the rules about allowing girlfriends in the tower, in which case I'm calling-"

"I told you, she's not my-"

"Ex-girlfriend, whatever."

"Even more of a reason why she shouldn't stay here." Conner adds.

Cassie still hasn't sat down. "Look, I know you just got here like, yesterday, but Rose is a part of this team."

Gar doesn't know if he'd go that far. 'Teams' have never exactly been Rose's forte.

"She's a hired gun, Cass, you can't honestly-"

"Oh so we're bringing up rap sheets now? Because last I checked you were-"

"Titans!" Dick yells, because he's a professional. "This isn't productive. Look- Rose was a Titan."

"Yeah, for like five minutes." Jackson rolls his eyes. "I'm not saying- I like Rose, but we don't know where she's been, or who she's allied herself with. And honestly if I were the one who left and then showed up out of the blue, I don't know if I would trust me."

Gar has to hand to the kid, he's got a rough go of it: asshole dad who didn't even offer to pay for the couch.

But there is a difference between Jackson's asshole dad and Rose's:

Slade Wilson is dead.

"I do not sense any malice from her." Raven adds, which is probably an exaggeration. Gar can't imagine Rose not having any malice.

"I know she left the team, but the fact of the matter is, I trust her."

Easy for Dick to say from 2000 miles away. It's not like she can kill him in his sleep.

Not that… Gar doesn't really think Rose will hurt any of them. Not physically at least. Emotional damage is definitely on the table.

"But… trouble has a tendency to follow her, so we should all stay vigilant." That's Dick speak for watch out for stray revenge seeking mobsters.

"So that's it?" Conner cranes his head to yell at the screen even through the camera is in the middle of the table. "We're just going to let her lurk around the tower no questions asked?"

Emiko nods at Donna. "Yeah, seems like a reoccurring trend lately."

"Seriously." Says Jaime. "What is she even doing here?"

"Donna is a Titan." Dick says. Which is as true now as it was two years ago when she left.

"No, she was a Titan. She left us remember? And then she just shows back up one day and we're all going to what? Not talk about it." Emiko says. She doesn't sound salty about it at all.

"Maybe I shouldn't be in this meet-"

"Donna sit down." Kory grabs her by the arm.

"D's here helping us with a case." Gar says, which is technically true. There is a case and Donna has helped with it.

Jaime snorts. "What case? Keeping Kory's bed warm?"

"Hey!" Dick yells. "That was way out of line."

Gar snorts because, well, he's an asshole. "I mean, yeah, not cool guys."

"Donna Troy is one of the most powerful people on this planet. We should all be grateful for her help." Raven says, mild echo in her voice.

"Oooh careful Gar, sounds like 'D' might steal your girl too." Dammit, Gar thought Virgil was supposed to be the mature one.

"Jesus Christ. You are all fucking children." Emiko's head hits the desk.

A second giant head crashes onto the screen. "Dick, hey can you- oh shit are you on a call sorry!"

So much for a secure, Titans only meeting.

"Fucki- Okay. I think we're done here. Guys, try to get along while I'm gone. Please." Dick blinks into a black screen.

Well, that went swimmingly if Gar does say so himself.

Rose is still on the couch flipping through their T.V. channels. Though she's clearly moved on account of the wet hair and change of clothes which definitely don't belong to her.

"How'd your little meeting go? Did ya figure it out?"

Cassie stomps into the room. "You asshole."

"Awe, hello to you too, princess."

"You can't just- you take off in the middle of the night, you don't call, you don't text, for all we know you're fucking dead. And then you just show back up here with no warning, no explanation, this isn't a fucking Hilton."

"Sounds like you missed me."

"I didn't miss you, you selfish, irresponsible, reckless, asshole!"

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, your roots are showing." Cassie turns on her heel and stomps out of the rec room. It's a good thing the door is automated because she probably would have ripped it off its hinges by now otherwise.

"See? Way better than real housewives." Jaime whispers. "Nice to see you again Rose!"

Rose's head falls to the side. "Which one are you again?"

"I-um- Jaime. Reyes. Blue Beetle. We've met like- extensively."

"Huh. Think I'd remember that." Rose claps him on the shoulder, "Nice to meet you Jaime." And flits out of the room as Jaime stands there like he's been shot.

See? Walking psychic damage.

"Hey, Gar." Donna nods to the hall and Gar follows her to Kory's bedroom where Raven and Kory are both hunched over at the foot of Kory's bed speaking into Kory's phone.

"We're all here, Dick."

"Good. I didn't want to worry the others."

"Should they be worried?" Donna asks.

"No… well, maybe."

"Do you really think Rose might…"

"No. I've been keeping an eye on her." Which is Dick speak for he's been tracking her and not telling anyone about it. Old habits die hard but Gar can't say he's too upset that someone's been looking out for her. Even if it's in creepy batman style.

"She's been stable… for Rose."

"That's good, right?"

"It is. But I don't think we can ignore the timing. With two of us away from the city we're vulnerable. Not to mention half the Justice League is off world. And with how much… turmoil the Titans have been drumming up lately, we can't rule out that she could be reporting to an outside entity."

Donna frowns. "You think she could be working for Waller?"

"They've worked together in the past."

"We've worked with Waller before." Raven says.

"I know. Look, it's probably nothing. I meant what I said. I trust her. But we should all be careful."

Way to state the obvious, oh fearless leader. Gar pushes off the wall. "Awe come on, we're always careful, Dickie."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. We can handle Rose, trust me."

"Contrary to popular belief we don't just fall apart whenever you're not around." Donna says.

"I know, I-" Dick laughs through the phone. "I can't believe you're back and I’m missing it."

"Well, someone had to keep these knuckleheads in line."

"We will be fine, Dick. We've handled situations like this before." Kory says.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just be careful."

"We will be." Raven says

"And just, don't- I don't want Rose to think that we suspect anything. You all know how important our trust is to her."

Except they don't trust her. That's the point of this phone call isn't it?

"And. Do try and keep her and Cassie from killing each other, please."

"No promises there."

Gar doesn't have any more luck with the T.V. after that either. And look, sure, he's got a T.V. in his room. And the ops room is one giant T.V. basically. And there's a T.V. in the gym if he's really feeling desperate.

But it's the principle of the thing. (He has got to get his own fucking place.)

Instead those little brats (his cherished and esteemed teammates) have made a mess of the whole living room.

"What's all this?" Donna asks to piles of unopened bags of food piled up on the kitchen counter.

"We're having a homecoming party for Rose." Jackson reaches for the stack of mixing bowls on the top cupboard. Apparently he's over his skepticism.

Jaime flies in the open window balancing three 30 racks of Busch Light. Which, one: ew. And two:

"Where the hell did you get all that?" Last time Gar checked, Jaime was still a year away from legal drinking age.

"Costco bay-beee."

Okay, not really the answer Gar was looking for.

"You aren't 21."

"Yeah but Khaji Da's like 10 thousand so that averages out to definitely old enough to drink."

"That is not how that works."

"I bought it." M'gann says as she flies through the window holding a completely normal sized pack of marshmallows.

Gar doesn't know how he feels about that either and yeah, okay, he gets why Rose thinks he's a killjoy now.

"Whatever, you guys know the rules, no powers while drinking."

"Yeah, yeah we know!"

Steel slashes through aluminum and beer explodes into the air.

The party didn't start on the beach. The thing about the water in the bay is that it's frigid and disgusting. Not exactly the sort of thing you'd want to swim in or really even be close to. And the thing about the middle of March is that it's still cold as all hell. So they really have no business hanging out on the beach. 'Beach' is a generous word for it, also. It's more like a pile of rocks and dirt that the tide runs into.

But there was no way Gar was letting those brats get that shit beer all over the carpet.

The beer hovers mid air as the can falls away in two pieces, liquid reforming into a floating ball.

"Dude. You guys are wasting beer." Jackson funnels the floating piss water directly into his mouth and Gar is definitely too old for this shit.

Emiko slaps a hand over her mouth. "Oh no, whatever are we going to do without your shitty beer."

"I like this one." Rose swipes another can and shakes it up. "Way more fun than Harper."

Rose would think that: the first time she and Roy met he was covered in baby puke. She launches the can into the air as Emiko dives with her bow and arrow to shoot it. The can bursts in the air and rains down over the beach.

"Hey!" Cassie shrieks and jumps from the splash zone. "Knock it off!"

Rose laughs as Emiko takes a deep bow. "Oh yeah, you're definitely my new favorite."

Gar stumbles over to the picnic blanket Donna, Raven and Kory are huddling and plops down in the middle of the blanket. "Evening ladies."

He leans his head back into Raven's lap and sticks his feet into Kory's. "May I just say, it's an honor to be in the presence of three immaculate goddesses such as yourselves."

Donna rolls her eyes and throws a cheeto at his face. "Shut up."

"Wait no I wasn't ready." He opens his mouth again. "Donna." Mouth open. "Donna." He points at his mouth. Donna huffs and chucks another piece at him, which hits him in the nose and he catches and shoves in his mouth.

Donna cocks her head. "Have you always been this annoying?"

"Yes." Raven says. Which is extremely rude of her. But she does run her hand through his hair instead of shoving him off her so he considers that a win.

"I provide a vital part of the ecosystem." Gar says and reaches for Donna's chip bowl. Donna tosses a piece to him and he does catch it this time. "See? Teamwork makes the dream work. baby."

"Uh huh."

"So…. whatcha ladies talking about?"

Donna looks at him with the deadest eyes he's ever seen. "Menstrual cups."

Gar sits up onto his elbows."Wait? Really?"

"No, not really- why are you excited about that? Raven what's wrong with him?"

"Hey! I am perfectly normal thank you very much."

"Sure you are, sweetie." Raven chides.

"Awe, I think you're normal, Gar." Kory says sweetly. See? Kory Anders, famously known for being a super duper normal human girl, also thinks he's totally normal.

"Okay but no, that actually gets me thinking, Kor do Tamaraneans menstruate?"

"Oh wow, that's a big word for him." Donna says, pointedly to Raven and not at him.

"Fuck you, I know words. You know I went to college right?"

"Didn't you drop out?"

"Yeah, sure- but that's because the world was ending, not my fault. But anyway, so you know how most other mammals don't get periods, it's just like humans and like… fruit bats. Which is super random, but like that makes me wonder if- I mean I know Martians don't- don't ask why I know that, anyway I know that Tamaraneans have a totally different life cycle than humans so- actually, how long is your gestational period? You do have internal gestation right? I mean I guess I just assumed because of the- you know, but I guess you could have a sort of platypus situation, or I dunno I guess it could just be for aesthetic purposes or like…camel humps? Anyway, Kory you don't lay eggs do you? I feel like that would have come up if you did."

Kory gapes at him. "Ah… no. I don't lay eggs."

"Oh okay, good. I mean not good, there's nothing wrong with laying eggs, it's perfectly normal for some creatures. I think all creation of life is beautiful ya know? Really it's the diversity that makes it so amazing, you know? Like all across the universe life finds a way, even if that way is just like straight up stabbing your girl in the stomach, you know that's how bed bugs do it."

"Is he drunk?" Donna asks, again, to Raven, not him.

"I don't think so." Raven pushes his hair out off of his forehead. "Are you drunk?"

Gar gasps at the mere suggestion that he might have indulged in that horrible excuse for beer. "No mami! Ni pedo tocoia esa mierda!"

"Don't you think that's a little dramatic?" Kory asks as she sips from her own can. "It's not that bad."

Kory thinks raw potatoes are 'not that bad' so that's not exactly a stamp of approval.

"No, I'm with green bean. That shit's vile." Donna pulls a flask from the pocket of her flannel and waggles it above Gar's face.

"Oh fuck, I love you." The liquor hits his tongue and burns like straight rubbing alcohol. He jolts up to keep from choking and barely resists spitting. "Oh- holy- what the fuck is that."

"Amazonian Ouzo." Ouzo his ass. Gar has had Ouzo before and it didn't taste like that. Donna tilts her head. "What? You don't like it?"

Gar supposes that underneath the heavy taste of motor oil their are notes of fennel and- and-

"No. It's um- good. Super ehm- great." He's not tearing up or anything. Gar holds the flask over his shoulder. "Wanna try?"

Raven snorts and pushes the flask away. "Oh no. I'm not that stupid."

Donna snatches the flask back. "Fine, more for me." She takes a swig like it's water, meanwhile Gar feels like steam is coming directly out of his ears and eyes.

"Shit!" Someone yells, and the fire pit sizzles out in a plume of steam. "Kory!"

Kory sighs and jumps to her feet. "Duty calls."

"Wait!" Virgil yells. "I got it!" A crackle of lightning shoots from his hand and restores the fire to a gaggle of applause.

Gar whistles from the blanket. "Way to go sparky!"

So much for no powers.

"Glad they're all having fun." He says as he nuzzles into Raven's stomach, he might be biased but she really does make the world's best pillow.

"Well, most of them." Raven nods up at the tower, where Conner is probably listening to every minute of this party.

"He'll get over it." Gar is sure Mr. I Can't Believe You'd All Go Screw Around On The Beach At A Time Like This will realize brooding alone in the tower doesn't get you anywhere sooner or later. The thing Gar's learned in his twenty seven years of non stop bullshit is that you can't wait for shit to get good before you can live you life. You just gotta keep living. "Think she'll stay this time?"

Whatever grudge they were holding has clearly melted away with the sunset and onslaught of alcohol: Rose and Cassie are bundled together on a makeshift throne of driftwood around Virgil's reignited fire as they all trade battle stories like trophies.

"Honestly?" Raven runs a nail along the side of his scalp and Gar tries his best to keep his feelings in check for her sake, but if he had a tail right now it would definitely be wagging.

"Yeah."

"No. Not this time."

Gar sighs. "Probably for the best. We're really pushing the limits of our septic system as it is."

Raven flinches. "Gross."

"What's gross is when our system fails and the tower starts leaking shit into the ocean. I really don't want to hear from Garth about that one."

After the novelty of hanging around in the midwinter seabreeze has finally lost it's fizzle, Gar finds Rose hitting the heavy bag in the gym just shy of midnight.

"So, have you told anyone why you're here yet?"

Rose huffs as her fist meets the bag. "Have you figured out how I got in yet?"

Gar slips his hands through a pair of pads and steps between Rose and the bag. "You could just tell me."

"No fun in that." Rose jabs and rolls under his right hand before coming in with a left hook. Jab, uppercut, kick, cross, two, three, two, five and so on and so forth. Rose is fast and not particularly concerned with pulling her punches so it takes all his speed and effort just to get the pads where they need to be in time for them to connect with her fist and feet. Rose gets two hands around his head as her knee connects with his unpadded stomach. Her foot lands behind his and before he knows it he's hitting the mat square on his back.

Ow.

Rose folds her arms across her chest and smirks down at him. "You suck at this."

What can he say? He's- look- he's got years of hand to hand combat training. He doesn't suck. But it is perhaps, not his forte. Humans are great and all, but they're not really the heaviest hitter when it comes to battle, so why would he bother? Which again, isn't to say that he sucks, he's trained under Tameranean warriors and Amazons and Dick Fucking Grayson. So he'd actually say, you know, objectively, he's a pretty good fighter. Rose just happens to be a freak in this department.

"Yeah, well, not all of us were trained by the world class mercenaries."

Rose falls down onto the matted floor and raises a middle finger to the ceiling. "Right. Thanks dad."

"R.I.P. D-stroke. That's rest in pain, by the way. Sorry. I know he was your dad and all-"

"No, fuck that guy. I'm glad he's dead."

Gar couldn't agree more. He's sure there are people out there willing to see the good in Slade Wilson, but Gar sure as hell isn't one of them. As far as he's concerned the world is better off. Which, maybe that makes him a shit superhero because isn't he supposed to believe that everyone deserves a second chance and has the ability to do good and all that crap? And yeah, sure, he believes that. In theory. But he's not losing any sleep over this one.

Gar doubts it's that simple for Rose. In his experience it doesn't matter how fucked up your parents are, it still sucks when they die. Even if only because you lose out on the opportunity to tell them how much of a shit parent they were.

"So…?" Gar figured he'd paid the toll with the bruise blooming on his ribs.

Rose sits up and hugs her knees. "So, there's no story. I was in California, needed a place to crash. This place is a hellova lot nicer than a Motel 6."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Rose squints at him.

"Yeah, sure. That makes sense. I mean you could've just told me you were chasing tail-"

"Chasing tail?"

"Yeah it means-"

"I know what it means. I just think your embarrassing."

Gar shrugs, he can't deny that. "So, what were you doing in California?"

"I…" She takes to picking at a scab on the back of her knuckle instead of answering.

"Hey, it's cool. You don't have to tell me. it's just, you know- Bangkok, Milan, Tokyo- Jump City is a little bit lackluster compared to where you've been hanging out."

"I've been looking for my mom."

"Ah. Thought we might be hiding her in one of the cupboards?"

"No, no- I uh- found her." Rose doesn't say that in the sort of way someone reveals a grand reunion with a long lost parent.

"Oh, that's - was she-"

"She didn't want to see me."

Gar exhales. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"That's fucking- yeah." Gar doesn't have a joke for that. Dead moms? Oh yeah he could do that all day, but this? Yeah, that's the sort of shit that just straight sucks.

"So I- after- I was going to go see my brother, but I guess I- I dunno guess I sorta pussied out." Her lips pull into a tight lipped smile as she shrugs.

"Oh, yeah, makes total sense. I mean your brother, Jericho? That brother? Scariest guy I know. Really knows how to bring the intimidation factor."

Rose leans back and kicks him in the stomach. "Shut up."

Ow.

Why do all the women in his life insist on hitting him for sport?

"Look, I know he's not… like that, but he's, ya know, got this whole normal life. He got out of all this you know?" Gar isn't sure anything is normal about Joey's life now, just because he's not flying around kicking bad guy butt as an after school hobby.

"Yeah, like we all haven't hung up the cape a few times. You know a few weeks ago Big D was completely committed to her little civ life, and now look at her."

"Exactly, the last thing I want is to drag him back into this world."

"Yeah, okay I get it. But trust me, I know Joey and he'd-"

"That's it though! You know him. You and Dick and- all of you, you were a team, for years. But we- I mean we're practically strangers. I'm just the result of our asshole father's need to get his dick wet. You know? What if seeing him just hurts us both?" Rose is on her feet now, pacing in a circle on the mat.

"Well, then it's a good thing Cy left your bio signature in the system."

"What?"

"I mean I've got to hand it to you, you were really milking that whole B&E thing, but I do sorta think that's cheating. Not really 'bypassing security' if someone gives you a key."

Dick had texted the team around mid afternoon with a screenshot of a text that just said: 'Ravager's bio-signature is still loaded into the system as an approved member. Tell your super friends they're fucking idiots.' So all that hullabaloo had been for nothing after all.

"I figured that was an accident." Gar doubts it. Vic always liked Rose.

"Maybe, you can ask him when he gets back. If you stay that is."

"We'll see. Now get up. I'm not done hitting you."

When Gar wakes up the next morning, he saunters into a blissfully empty rec room. Jokes on everyone else and their shitty beer.

There's a large scrap of cardboard ripped from last night’s pizza box pinned to the drywall in the kitchen with a paring knife.

Thanks for the party. xoxo Rose.

Well, so much for her sticking around this time. Gar flops down on the empty sofa an flicks on the T.V.

Chapter Text

Do you miss your home?

Raven assumes M'gann is talking (or more accurately, thinking) about the tower. In a commiserating sort of way: less of a question, more of a complaint. Doesn't Raven wish she was at home in her bed instead of stuffed between ceiling joists in an old, stale warehouse? M'gann isn't used to stakeouts- or the quiet- like Raven is. And it's gone on long enough that she's begun stroking their shared psychic link just to hear herself think.

This is not most people's idea of a good time. And true, Raven can't say that she enjoys it, per say. But if anyone has to do it, the pair of them are not bad candidates. M'gann is particularly suited to hiding in crevices on account of her intangibility and invisibility but she doesn't like the dark, and the quiet, and the stillness. Such an eager volunteer, Raven could hardly reject the girl's help, but M'gann restlessness wears on her.

But M'gann's projected voice in her mind continues.

Azarath?

Ah.

Raven loosens the sinew between her mind and her physical body, and the ache of holding still fades away.

Sometimes.

Earth is so very loud. The Titans are loud. No sense of tranquility or peace. It is by her own design, yes. Restfulness is antithetical to her mission on this planet. And still, she misses the quiet.

Sorry, you don't have to talk about it. M'gann says and Raven realizes she's been still too long.

I don't mind. Yes… and no. I miss the temple. Azarath was beautiful and… simple. Devoid of many of the complexities and problems of the rest of the universe. And above all it was peaceful.

Peace at all costs.

But, I was a different person there. It's difficult to describe, I wasn't really a person at all back then. I can't really separate my time there from the place itself.

It's hard now for Raven to even think about Azarath, her memories there don't feel like hers. Or like they happened in another state of being. Like the way Gar talks about not remembering things the same when he's not human.

M'gann's response comes without words: sadness, compassion, understanding.

Martian communication exists on a higher plane than spoken language, ideas and sentiment transferring directly without need for symbolism. Even within the confines of her own head M'gann still caters to human communication quirks more often than not.

Do you miss Mars?

Fear, regret, anger, colliding together with an insurmountable grief: no.

I miss my family, my people. But, the war started before I was born. It was hard- for everyone, but especially as a child, there were so many things I didn't understand. And I never really felt… safe. Hard to miss a place like that.

The empty space where M'gann is making herself incorporeal creaks as the old building settles into place. They haven't spoke about the inaccuracies in M'gann's history, though she must know Raven can sense the guilt and fear within her, the weight of her own sense of dishonesty. The guilt is a bigger danger than whatever unknown secret of her past M'gann is harboring. Fear makes people reckless, that emotional turmoil a bigger threat than any perceived sins.

But that's all irrelevant. There are certain boundaries, certain rules Raven follows in an attempt to make up for the violating nature of her mere existence. M'gann will tell the truth when she's ready. Or perhaps someone else on the team will confront her, but it won't be Raven.

Sorry, I didn't mean to be a total downer!

The smile is audible even within the confines of her mind.

And that's the other part of it: whatever happened back on Mars, whatever shame M'gann is hiding, she isn't only hiding from the others. So determined to think only of the good, as if even acknowledging the pain is too difficult. M'gann reminds her terribly of a younger Gar: desperately clinging to optimism like it is itself a Hail Mary.

It's okay, depressing childhoods are sort of my specialty.

Yeah, I guess you- M'gann falls abruptly silent and Raven doesn't need to ask why. In the emptiness of the warehouse the new souls draw her attention immediately.

Let's go.

Raven ports herself and Miss Martian back to the tower just shy of midnight. Kory is waiting for them in the kitchen with baited breath and all but stumbles to her feet.

With her rust toned skin and blazed hair, six and a half feet of untamed starlight, Kory is a categorical head turner. Which is to say, incognito work is not her forte.

"How did it-"

"We got em!" M'gann's voice comes out two toned in tandem with her psychic projection.

Raven tosses Kory the small recorder. "Ship's coming in two days, we should be able to intercept them."

"Thank you!" Kory pulls her in to a tight embrace and kisses Raven on the lips before releasing her to offer the same to M'gann. If M'gann's culture is one of psychic intimacy, Koriand'r's is one of physical intimacy. Neither practice is familiar to either of them, but they share an understanding nonetheless. 

You don't need to thank us Koriand'r. "We're a team."

"I know, but still- thank you. You both must be starving. There's leftover curry in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks, but I think I'm gonna go down to the gym, all that time immaterial is leaving me with the need to hit something." M'gann shakes out her arms, which move in a way that suggests she's foregone the internal bone structure, then stretches them above her head and melts into the floor.

"Raven? I made you tea, also." Kory smiles meekly and nods to the copper kettle on the stove.

Raven is neither hungry nor thirsty but she indulges Kory anyway.

The energy level in the tower is low, nearly everyone is asleep or near. Not that Raven can blame them. Jump City was delivered its third giant monster in as many months, this time in the form of some sort of volcanic elemental which Gar has affectionately been calling "Plasmus 2.0".

"It's quiet around here." Raven settles with her cup of tea into the crook of the sofa.

Kory rolls her neck and drops her head over the back of the sofa. "I know, Donna said she'll be back tomorrow."

Raven hums into her tea.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Is it her coming back or going you disapprove of."

"Neither. I think it's good that she's trying to do both things." Lots of heroes maintain normal lives: jobs, families, outside of hero work. And Donna isn't like them, she is, all things considered, mostly normal. She should try and honor that privilege.

"I do think it's silly that she's spending six hours both ways flying across the country when I could take her back and forth in the blink of an eye." She's going to ask Vic to build a boom tube in the tower when he gets back. They never did before because between the two of them there was no need. But her friends are even less willing to ask her for assistance than they are Victor (except Gar, who won't hesitate to ask her to teleport him a measly 50 feet.)

"You know how she is, she doesn't want to be a burden." Kory clicks her tongue.

"Runs in the family, it seems." Raven prods Kory's knee with her toe and Kory gasps and shirks away.

"Your feet are unreasonably cold!"

Raven laughs and retracts her toes. "Demon thing."

The bright, burning energy, like a sizzling grill is the only warning Raven gets before Garfield comes barreling into the kitchen. He doesn't stop or even look their way, making a direct path for the fridge, ripping the door open and pulling out a carton of soy milk.

He's utterly dripping with sweat, it's soaked into his hair and t-shirt and drips down the column of his neck as he chugs directly from the carton. It's an utterly disgusting display that Raven does not fixate on in the slightest.

"Seriously, Gar?"

Kory's head falls sideways. "You keep telling me that you were not raised by feral jungle creatures, but I continue to find that hard to believe."

Gar tosses the empty carton and runs a hand through his sweat damp hair. "Sorry, I was like, really thirsty."

He grins like some sort of child who thinks they can get out of trouble with their cute face. The puppy dog routine doesn't work as well as he thinks it does though.

"That's no excuse."

"Whatever, no one else drinks this shit anyway."

"I do." Raven says.

"So does Donna." Kory adds.

Gar snorts. "You mean the person who doesn't actually live here and doesn't pay for groceries? Yeah okay. And Rae, you only drink vanilla."

And that's… true. Though irrelevant.

Anger is the wrong word for the emotion he's emitting. It's more like aimless adrenaline.

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Yeah why?"

"You seem… "

"Prickly?" Kory provides.

"Yes, prickly." She wasn't keeping track of him during the battle earlier, but the truth is he always gets like this after a fight. The more played out, the longer he spends in bodies bigger than his own the more intense the effects.

Gar shrugs. "I'm fine."

"Is that why you're so… wet?"

Gar pulls the hem of his t-shirt up over his face to wipe at it. "Ha, nah, I was just hittin' the track. Think I did eight… " Gar begins to finger count. "Nine miles?"

At least he kept it to the parameters of the tower this time, Raven has been getting tired of picking him up from random locations across California.

"Well, there's tea in the kettle, you may have some if you promise not to drink out of the spout." Kory says.

"Jeez Star, I'm not an animal."

Gar pours himself a cup of tea into an old S.T.A.R. labs mug that he swiped from Victor's dad's office years ago as 'revenge for being such a douche wad father' and hops onto the arm of the couch and slings a hand over Raven's shoulder.

"Do you mind?"

"What?"

"You're getting your perspiration all over me, and the couch."

"Jeez Rae, just say sweat it's not that hard."

"It's gross, is what it is."

Raven spots a tea towel hanging the oven and flings it at Garfield's head. "Owe, where did that even- you know what? Whatever. Thanks." Gar wipes his face again and throws the towel back the direction of the kitchen.

"So, how'd the mish. go?"

"It was a success. We got the location and time for when the next ship is arriving."

"Good. Kor you know if you need any backup, I'm your man."

"Thanks, I'm hoping- well I'm hoping to intercept the transfer with as little confrontation possible, those people have already been through enough."

Raven fights back the urge to alleviate her friend's grief, reaching across the couch and squeezing Kory's hand instead.

"Have you thought-" Gar stops and starts again. "Have you thought about calling in the GLs? I mean intergalactic trafficking is sort of their domain."

Kory frowns. "The Lantern Corps are… unreliable."

"Kyle would help us."

"He's off-planet."

Gar drops his forehead on top of her head. "Why the hell is everyone off planet right now?"

Raven pushes his head away. "Intergalactic war against a planet eating demigod."

"Right, that. Whatever. You're right Kor, we don't need the lanterns we're the God Damn Teen Titans."

"I think we're a little old to still call ourselves the 'teen titans' Don't you think?"

"Nah, we got until Em turns twenty. Or we'll just pick up some new recruits? How old is Superman's kid?"

Officially speaking, Superman's son does not have any superpowers and also does not exist. Unofficially speaking, however, they all saw Clark Kent's young son accidentally knock over a 100 foot tall oak tree on his grandparents farm while playing a game of tag last fall.

"… seven."

"Ah, yeah. Well might be a minute on that one." Gar concedes. "But I mean- you're okay right? No problems?"

"We avoided confrontation."

"Good, I was sort of worried, you know you smell like drywall?" His nose twitches like he's sniffing her.

"Thanks. I was inside a wall."

"Oh, good. I mean not good but, definitely preferable to going through any walls."

"Oh, were you concerned about me? That's cute."

"Ha! I knew you thought I was cute!"

"Gar."

"I mean, how could you not? Look at me."

She pulls at a clump of wet hair dangling from his forehead. "You look like soggy spinach."

"Ouch! You wound me! Two points for the alliteration though."

"I'm serious, go shower."

"Fine. Wanna join?" Another coping method. Like the running. Raven doubts fucking would make him feel any better.

"No."

Gar leans down and whispers into her ear. "I swear I'll make it worth your while."

Raven hates the way his breath sends an involuntary shiver down her spine. Gar nips at her earlobe which is highly inappropriate considering Kory is sitting right there. Though in fairness they could probably fully fuck right there on the couch and Kory would take it with mild disinterest and provide them both with sports drinks after.

Raven shoves him off the couch. "Go shower."

"Whatever. Offers open!" Gar shouts on his way out.

Once he's gone, Kory looks to her with smug amusement.

"Um… Kor-"

"Go."

Raven nods and blips from the living room, stopping in her own room to shed her clothes before appearing directly in Gar's shower.

"Jesus- fuck!" Gar yelps. Raven takes advantage of his surprise to shove him up against the wall and press their mouths together.

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

Gar laughs into their shared breath. "Liar."

Raven ignores him and guides his lips back to hers. Her fingers slot into his and she brings them both up to rest against the granite tile.

Gar whines into her mouth and she responds by biting down on his lower lip. He clenches his hands beneath hers but she's much stronger than him and keeps them pinned in place.

His desire surges, and this close it's nearly impossible for her to prevent his emotions from sinking into her own.

"Don't move." Raven slowly releases her grip on his wrists and studies the hard rise and fall of his chest, eyes blown open as he shallowly inhales through his swollen, split slick lips.

"Yes ma'am." He says it like a joke so Raven runs a curious thumb across his budding nipple, delights in the twitch of his outstretched chest, delights even more in his hands which stay firmly held above his head.

She replaces the thumb with her mouth, follows the trail of chest hair down to his navel until her knees hit the tile and she swallows him whole.

"Fuck- " Gar grunts.

She should have told him not to speak also.

This form of sexual intimacy is easier for her. She doesn't have to wrestle with the deep seated reflex to recoil from her own pleasure. Doesn't have to work to remind herself that it isn't dangerous, that there is no inherent evil in pleasure for pleasure's sake. Even in the best of circumstances it can be mentally taxing.

Service, in comparison, is easier. There is no moral ambiguity to making other people feel good, to alleviating their suffering and pain.

Gar makes a choked, wounded sound as Raven kneads the soft flesh of his thighs beneath her thumbs, indulging in the waves of emotion rolling off of him. Deep hot pleasure that makes her own pride swell to know that she is the cause.

(It isn't to say that there are no complications with this sort of act. Years of preconceived notions about the sexual nature of demons, the vampiric nature of feeding off of someone else's pleasure. Like maybe she is following in her father's footsteps: seduction as hunting tool, pleasure as a means of manipulation. She can give people types of pleasure that no human would be able to compete with. She possesses an unfair advantage in this realm that is entirely by design. No matter how much she deludes herself into believing that she's doing this for him, it isn't true, it's never been true. She could have let their friendship stay just that, allowed their paths to diverge as his feelings for her faded into something more familial. But she was the one who wanted to keep him, knew that once she let him into her bed he wouldn't be able to leave. Not of his own volition. She's set a perfect little trap for her own conscious because now she doesn't want to hurt him so the only thing to do is let him stay.)

Raven clings to the hard press of the grouted floor cutting into her knees, and the scalding spray of the shower water against her back, and the repetitive slam of the obtrusion at the back of her throat as if that might grant her any absolution. As if she doesn't know better than to think that sins can be washed clean by offerings of more pain.

Gar's hand tangles in her hair, he's always been terrible at following directions. She guides his other hand to join it and lets him do the work for a while. Bored of her own self defeating thoughts, Raven pushes him over the edge, letting his blinding pleasure soak into her skin and take the edge off the burning in her knees. She swallows down the phantom convulsions that wash over her, swallows down the euphoria and the hint of panic and then rises back to her feet.

Gar's eyes are closed, head dropped back against the wall, lips slack as he recovers. Raven allows herself a moment to indulge in the sight, the rise and fall of his chest as his heart rate dies back down, the harsh florescent light that pours over the highpoint of his cheek and the ridge of his nose. He really is quite beautiful.

Raven kills the silence. "Do you feel better?"

Gar's lips twitch. "You'd know wouldn't you?"

"I've been told it's polite to ask." Raven reaches for the bottle of liquid soap on the stone ledge as Gar's eyes pop open.

"Sure you're not just fishing for compliments?" She definitely isn't. Raven won't say she doesn't appreciate the occasional moment of flattery, but when it comes to Garfield and his opinions on her sexual competency words are bit of a moot point. His praise comes through in suffocatingly thick waves of pleasure and pitchy whines that would tell a story all their own even if she couldn't tap in right at the source.

Gar pulls her in by the hips until they're standing chest to chest. "Totally cool if you are. I'm very pro positive reinforcement."

"And-" His fingers scrape at the hair clinging to her neck and pull it away so that he can mouth at her damp skin. "for the record, I feel much better."

"And-" His sharp teeth graze along the side of her neck, pulling incredibly gently at the thin skin. He's got excellent bite inhibition. "I think you're amazing. Best head game in the whole wide world."

He nips at her shoulder. "Whole entire galaxy."

"Didn't realize you'd sampled the whole entire galaxy."

"Oh sure, humans, aliens, shapeless psychic entities , I've tried it all. And given my ample research, I can confirm: you definitely take the cake for best cocksucker."

"Gee, just what every girl dreams of hearing." She'd like to point out that he's only ever slept with one alien. A fact she's rather confident in, given the one time it did happen, he wouldn't shut up about it. But he's already begun musing.

"Hmm, you're right, cocksucker does have sort of a negative connotation doesn't it? Although that's kinda fucked up isn't it? Like there's nothing wrong with sucking cock. Kinda sexist. And homophonic. You know what? I stand by it: you're an amazing cocksucker. Ten outta ten." He kisses her chastely on the forehead and grins.

"You only think so because I cheat." Raven caresses his cheek and that's all it takes for him to buckle over, strangled whimper ripping from his throat as his forehead crashes against her shoulder. She's barely given him anything: merely a glimpse of the memory of his own earlier orgasm and yet he takes it like bare skin to live wire.

It's only a moment. He's still soft, wilted against her like a drowned flower, but his stomach flails in labored breaths beneath her palm.

This is the part she hates most: the admission that she enjoys toying with him. That it's fun: exerting her will over him, bringing him to his knees through little more than thought, feeding on the sweet combination of pleasure and shock and anguish. Giving him something so good he has no choice but to return to her night after night because no other lover could ever hope to compare. She loves it. She loves it.

And she can write it off with the knowledge that he loves it to, comes back willingly over and over.

But that's really no excuse.

"Jesus-" Gar pants into her shoulder. "Fuck."

"See?"

Gar blinks fervently. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"

"That you opinion of my- what did you call it? 'Head game'? Is inflated because of my ability to artificially enhance your sense of pleasure."

"Stop trying to logic your way out of my compliments."

"It's not my fault your compliments lack logical consistency."

Gar makes a pouting face at her. "You ruin all my fun, Rae."

"You seem to be having plenty fun." Pleasure runs through him like a rush of cold water and Raven holds it steady, waits for it to drown out every other thought and emotion. He's been so troubled lately. He doesn't accept her help when it comes to healing the physical or mental wounds that plague him, won't even allow her to cure his headaches half the time. But he allows this. She can at least distract him with a few moments of unfiltered bliss, held right up to the edge of euphoria.

Gar shakes against her as his moans turn into needy whimpering.

"Holy fuck. Babe- baby- I -oh." He goes on babbling, words turning less and less coherent as he grows more desperate. His pleasure teeters on the edge of pain, sense of urgency filling up the whole room. Raven can't avoid the feeling, deep and desperate like he might die, like they both might die, if she doesn't give him what he wants.

"Do you want to come, Garfield?"

"Please. Please, please- oh." Gar bites firmly into her shoulder and sags like a marionette whose strings have been cut. So much for bite inhibition.

Her own legs threaten to buckle as the head rush overtakes her. The sensation isn't like her own orgasms, which thread tightly between the nerves and sinew of her own body. It's a disembodied feeling: entirely cerebral. But the satiation that follows is bone deep, filling her with an exhaustion that tempts her to fall asleep right there.

They're drifting too close, not just physically, Raven picks carefully at the tangled wires of their sense until the drowsiness fades. At least one of them needs to be able to stand upright now.

It becomes uncomfortable quickly: the spray of too hot water rough against her back, Garfield's sticky warm skin pressed against hers as he clings to her in labored breaths. She could excuse herself now. Blink from the fabric of this dimension and find respite in the solitude if her room.

But she's fairly certain if she left now Gar would collapse and hit his head against the tile, come away with a nasty bruise at best.

"Holy shit." Gar eventually says, breath too warm against her ear. Raven nudges the faucet behind her with the corner of her mind, just enough to escape the scalding water.

"You're a goddamn miracle." Gar heaves out and then runs his tongue along the column of her neck like some sort of animal.

"Did you just lick me?"

"Mmm.. yeah." He switches to the other side of her neck and repeats the act.

"Gar." She warns him.

"What? This isn't super doing it for you?" He snickers and then licks her cheek before she can wrench away.

"No. It isn't."

"Sorry." He isn't sorry at all. "I can lick you somewhere else if you'd like."

"Pass."

She appreciates that she doesn’t need to elaborate. Raven had been worried about that with him: that he’d get too in his head about her occasional… disinterest in reciprocity. Gar has always been so desperate to please and men tend to be so linear in their measures of sexual success. She worried he’d take it personally, which would have been exhausting. But he’s managed to surprise her, pleasantly. 

Which isn’t to say he’s not persistent. 

"Well, there has to be something-" He kisses her cheek.

Voracious might be the more accurate term. 

Starving.

"I can do-" Her jaw. "To return the favor." Her clavicle.

That she doesn’t mind. Eagerness and persistence are equally appreciated traits so long as he can handle the rejection that is inherent to such an appetite.

Raven shoves the soap bottle into his hands. "Don't forget to wash behind your ears."

Gar breaks into a laugh and uncaps the bottle. "Yes, mom."

Chapter Text

Gar shifts into Ankylosaurus magniventris just in time to crash through the window of the old Hot Topic he used to bum around in as a teen hero (or as some might call it: a jobless dropout with only a year and a half of actual, real formal education).

Who the hell chooses an abandoned mall for their secret villain lair anyway?

(It's genius, actually. Gar is sort of pissed off for not thinking of it himself. Not that he needs a villain lair. But it would make one hell of a crash pad. That is before he crashed through one of the windows.)

"Beast Boy, you okay?" The voice is in his ear and fifty feet in front of him and he can't quite pin down if it's Cassie or Kory's voice but that's probably from the reverb and not at all to do with the crashing through windows.

'Villain lair' is a strong word for it anyway. As far as he can tell this whole mess was caused by some kids messing around with some way too powerful magic and accidentally tearing a hole through the fabric of space. You know, normal kid's stuff.

"Yup, all good." He says before launching himself back out the window and sprouting wings.

The perfect dress is nestled unassumingly between two pieces of boring. Cowl neckline, shimmering gold sequins, big beautiful yellow sales tag. Gar swipes it off the rack and presents it to his shopping partner. "What about this one?"

Kory's eyes narrow at the dress. "I am not sure yellow is suited to your green hue."

Rude.

Diplomatic, but rude, and also not wrong. Gar can pull off a lot of things but he's not sure a sequined mini dress is one of them.

…Maybe if it were red.

Garfield rolls his eyes and holds out the hanger, "Not for me, for you."

Kory's face folds into a scrunch and she hums before folding it into the growing pile of clothes on her arm.

Gar spots a purple bomber jacket, that is probably (well, definitely, considering what section of the store he's in) a women's coat, but frankly that seem like a pretty arbitrary label, and adds it to the bundle of hangers he's tight gripping.

"M'kay I think maybe we should actually try some of this stuff on. My fingers are about to fall off."

Kory's eyes go wide and she says, "Oh, I forget how weak your little human arms are." Like she genuinely means it nice.

"Hey!" Gar balks.

He does let out a sigh of relief when he drops the pile of clothes in the corner of an empty dressing stall, so ya know, Kory might have a point about his weak ass arms.

There's a mess of clothes covering the floor of the dressing room, which, is technically his fault. But if he were getting real technical about it he'd say it's Raven and Vic's fault for ditching them for Borders. Vic is usually the one to loudly say 'you don't need that man' before he gets to the dreaded dressing room stage, and also, Gar usually convinces him and his never tired robot arms to carry the clothes. Raven, he's never once convinced to carry his shit for him even though she has literal telekinesis and it would LITERALLY be no effort at all. But he's going to keep trying, one day she's bound to take pity on him and his poor, poor noodle arms. (Let it be known, that Gar does actually have some pretty sick guns, thank you very much, but he's not above playing them down or literally shrinking them if it comes to that in order to get out of carrying piles of clothes.)

Through the mess of clothes he pulls out the lightest wash jeans (they're totally coming back in to style he can sense this sort of thing), and the purple bomber jacket, which thankfully fits. He chronically forgets to check the sizes of things, especially on the sale rack.

Gar opens the door. "What'd ya think?"

Kory's head pops up above her own stall door across the isle. "Hmm… no."

"No?"

"It's- ah, what's that word? 'Basic'."

"Basic?! Wait- do you mean 'basic' like simple, classic, refined-"

"I mean 'basic', like basic."

"Ugh… fine." He rips off the jacket and tosses it back in the stall.

Kory throws her door open. "What about this?"

Kory steps (flies) out in an emerald green column dress. "I thought it might be acceptable for my trip to Gotham."

The dress has a square neck, and a slotted form fitting skirt that hits right above the knees. It's got just enough coverage to say 'I'm trying to make a good impression on my boyfriend's family and also ex girlfriend and show that I am a respectable, normal, woman, and the stories about being from a free for all planet of skanks are completed unsubstantiated.' while also, coincidentally saying 'I am the hottest person any of you will ever see, let alone be in the same room with, even when I'm doing my best Kate Middleton impression'.

Gar lets out a slow whistle. "Wowow. Hot mama."

Kory turns towards the big mirror at the end of the hall and crinkles her nose. "Ya think?"

"Oh yeah. Let's just say, if I were a boxer I'd be on the ground because you, dear, are a knockout."

Kory's mouth flattens into a thin line.

"You don't like it?"

"It's nice…" Kory covers her chest with her hands. "I just… continue to be frustrated at your cultures insistence on covering the breasts. It's one thing in battle, but you'd think at least in decorative regalia." Kory scoffs, she's been extra critical of this particular line of 'backwards earthling cultural traditions' ever since they got back from Tamaran. Not that Gar can blame her.

"Oh, yeah definitely with you, hundred percent. Free the nips." What can he say? He's a feminist.

"You know, on Tamaran nipples play a focal point in fashion." Gar knows. He has two regrettable scars from letting some royal guard convince him to shove a needle through his nipples so he could wear some formal royal dress thingy that could only be attached by nipple rings. And Gar's been in a lot of fights in his life, but that fucking hurt.

"Uh yeah, I remember. In fact I don't seem to actually remember anything else." That's not his fault, most Tamaraneans are so tall that they just naturally fall into his direct line of sight.

"Fashion should accentuate the natural focal points of the body, not cover them up." Kory pulls the bodice of the dress experimentally until her boob falls out, which Gar is very cool and normal about because he's a mature adult and not some pathetic teenager who looses it over a loose tit. (And, if he's being honest, Kory's tits are kind of old news at this point. One doesn't exactly go years living with a Tamaranean without seeing a nip slip or two-hundred.)

Kory groans and rockets back into her dressing room, door bouncing shut behind her.

Gar snorts and heads back into his own stall. "On behalf of all Earthlings, I'm truly very sorry you can't wear your tits out!"

Now that would definitely make a statement at the Wayne Christmas dinner.

"It's fine." Kory grumbles from across the hall. "I will respect your dumb culture."

Gar narrowly dodges the giant, ugly tentacle sprouting out of the floor only for one of the demon bat thingies to launch onto his back. He shifts and grabs at the knockoff Golbat, sending them both plummeting to the grou-

Sploosh.

The killer bat explodes right as Gar tucks and rolls across the checkered linoleum, splashing monster goo all over the back of his neck and cheek. "Oh ew!"

"You're welcome!" Emiko yells from her eagle's nest on the forth floor.

Another bat comes at him head on. "Oh no you don't."

His skin stretches, expanding and expanding as his flesh hardens into thick scales, teeth growing into razor sharp points in his growing jaw, mouth opening wide as the bat thing runs straight into it and-

Okay there's no way of saying this delicately: he eats it.

Oh no. No. No. No. He's going to be sick. Oil slick mutant guts slide down his throat. Ew. Ew. Ew. This is not going well for him.

"Jeez, this place stinks." Donna frowns and swats at the air like there's a fly.

Gar takes a huge breath as he walks through the straw roof threshold. "I know, I love it."

"How can you stand this? Don't you have like super sniffing?"

"Yeah, just better to take in all the smells!" Gar can't help it, he loves this store. Probably because it reminds him of the beach, and he loves the beach. In another life he's definitely a pro-surfer.

Plus their jeans are comfy.

Gar splits off from Donna and Kory and starts steadily collecting more shirts, and a few pairs of jeans. He rationalizes his less than responsible spending habit on the fact that he has a higher than normal likelihood of literally losing his clothes. Sure, he could avoid that by only ever wearing his morph suit, but he refuses to be that egregious of an outfit repeater.

He converges with the girls in the back of the store with a bundle of must haves.

"Planning on buying the whole store, B?" Donna asks, while evaluating a pair of sunglasses.

"What? No. I need all this stuff. Where's Star?"

"Dressing room."

There in a pile of discount trinkets and accessories, is a pale pink bucket hat with little embroidered flamingos around the edge. Gar needs that hat. Viscerally. He can already imagine how it will look with his favorite vintage denim jacket, courtesy of Larry Trainor (Larry has no idea he took it, oops.)

"Okay Donna, I need you to be brutally honest, what do you think of this hat?"

Donna Troy, is just factually speaking, one of the most beautiful people he's ever seen. Naturally gorgeous, yes, but also the everything else about her: her hair, her style, her everything. So if there's one person who's fashion sense he trusts it's-

"No."

"No?!"

"Definitely no."

Whatever, what does Donna know anyway?

Kory comes out of the dressing room right on time. "Hey, Star, what do you think of my-"

"Oh my god!" A chirping voice comes from across the store.

"Is that-"

A handful of teen girls are huddled together and failing very blatantly at not staring at them.

"Say something-"

"No you-"

"Jenna you do it-"

"No way!"

"Come on-"

The tallest girl, messy brunette bun and a JC Prep sweatshirt breaks through the pack and shouts. "Excuse me! Um, sorry, a-are you Wonder Girl, Beast Boy and Starfire, from the Teen Titans?"

"We ar-"

"Obviously it's them! Sorry about my friend." A shorter, shrimp of a girl rolls her eyes.

"We- um- we're huge fans."

"Oh! Is that why it's so windy in here?" The girls all burst into laughter even though that definitely was not Gar's best work.

"Oh my gosh!"

"Could we um- could we get a picture with you guys?"

"Yes, of course!" Kory says.

"Ab-so-lutely." Gar adds.

"Wow! Thanks so much! Erin is gonna flip! You're her favorite Titan."

"Really? Little ol' me?"

"Yeah! We watch your streams all the time, they're hilarious."

They all crowd into the frame of tall girl's phone camera, and Gar throws up a hang loose, they are in a Hollister after all.

"Oh my gosh. Thank you!"

"Wait-" Gar says. "Before you guys go, I have to know: what do you think of this hat?"

"Oh!"

"It's um… "

"Nice!"

"Totally."

"See, they hate the hat too." Donna says as soon as the girls are out of earshot.

"Whatever, we've already developed an emotional bond."

"You are very strange, even for a human." Kory says.

"I take that as a compliment." Gar pulls his phone out of his pocket. T-20 minutes till the movie. "Ah, shit we should probably go find the others. Also, I'm like dying for a mega mango smoothie."

"Everybody clear!" Virgil yells, and Gar jumps from the ground into eagle mode. A jolt of electricity seizes up the gargantuan tentacle monster, and the tentacles all fall limp.

"Yo! Way to go Static!" Gar shouts and head butts another of the bat things, sending it flying towards Cassie who promptly sucker punches the thing.

"Only a few more of these suckers left!" She yells.

"Uh… hey guys!" Virgil yells, as the tentacles start to recuperate, rising to the air and swinging around like the world's most unruly dog tail (except there's eight of them.) The tentacle monster makes a ghoulish sound and shoots out dozens more bat monsters out of it's tooth lined mouth/asshole/portal to hell.

"Oh god dammit. Couldn't it just stay down?"

"Hey Raaaven, any luck on the portal spell? We're kinda dying out here!"

"I'm- working on-it!"

"M'gann! Can you try and-"

"I would- if these things- would stop attacking!" M'gann cries as the swarms of bats rush her.

"On it!" Gar yells and jumps from the railing. "Hey uglies! Look at the pretty green birdie! That's right! This way dumb dumbs."

"Took you guys long enough." Fishboy says, slumped over a basket of fries and half eaten burger. Gar doesn't know how he can eat that shit, Garth can talk to animals for pete's sake.

"Sorry, you can't rush fashion." Gar slides into the booth next to Raven, who is already nose deep in her book, chewing on the string of her sweatshirt and doesn't seem to register his presence at all.

Garth raises an eyebrow. "You call that fashion?"

"What? My hat? It's cool!"

"Uh huh."

"Look, you guys are all just haters. You guys like my hat right?" Gar turns to the two guys in the next booth over. One has a dark blue hoodie pulled up over his head, the other a backwards baseball cap covering a mop of orange hair. They’re both wearing sunglasses inside like a couple of absolute tools and doing their best to ignore Gar and his friends.

"Sorry, I'm not really a hat guy." Hoodie says.

"Aren't bucket hats sort of 2012?" Hat says, and then cocks his head to the side. "Actually, you know what? I think it's working for you. You should buy more."

"Don't encourage him." Donna flicks hat boy on the back of the head and slides into the booth next to them. And here Gar thought they were going for covert.

"What? I think if Gar likes the hat that's all that matters, right?" Wally leans back over the bench. "Even if it is the ugliest hat I've ever seen in my entire life."

"This coming from the guy who dresses in Ronald McDonald colors?"

"Hey!" Wally shouts. "First off, no idea what you could possibly be referring to total stranger who I just met. Second of all, I've got a brand."

"Does that brand sell big macs?"

"That's some big talk from a walking asparagus."

"Hey! That-"

"Boys. Could you at least attempt to act like adults?" Kory sighs.

"Green bean started it!" Green bean certainly did not start it.

"Awe come on. Ravey you like my hat right?" Gar nudges witch girl's shoulder.

"Don't call me that."

"Rae-ven. Hat?"

"No."

"You didn't even look!"

Raven peels her eyes up from her book for the briefest second. "No."

"What. Ever. Vic will like it. Where the hell is he?"

"He got stuck in the apple store again." Garth says.

Gar groans. God dammit. Every damn time. At first it's all 'omg it's Cyborg!' and then two seconds later it's Vic explaining processing chips to some poor genius bar employee and the next thing he's fixing every person in the vicinity's god damn iPhones.

"I keep telling him not to go in there. Those people are animals."

"We warned him…"Dick sighs.

Getting himself intentionally cornered in the back of a food court kitchen definitely wasn't his brightest idea. Gar ducks into the back room and slams the door hard, which catches at least three of the zombie bats in the head. At least these things are fucking stupid.

He shifts into an ankylosaurus again and rams through the swarm of bats.

"Hey Ravey! Any luck on the portal spell? We're dying out here!"

"I'm… working… on it!"

Gar doesn't have eyes on the tentacle nightmare anymore and can hardly piece together what's happening from his earpiece. "Superboy, go left!"

The bats might be stupid, but they are merciless, they swarm like a pack of rabid dogs and Gar gets big and hard (no, not like that) landing somewhere between stock kaiju and gigantosaurus. Taking a page out of Ursula down there he waves his tail around as manically as he can.

"-Kory, Donna-"

He needs his hands, Gar shrinks down to a silverback and grabs two of the bats by the head and slams them together, back to human as he teeps another one across the kitchen.

"Jaime now!"

Gar charges switches to a ram and charges the remaining zombats right as they all turn to dust, and instead Gar collides head first into a concrete post.

Pain spreads through his whole entire body as the cold of his icee goes straight to his spine and Gar wails. "Oh, ow, ow!"

Raven doesn’t outright laugh at him because that’s not really her M.O. but her lips do curl in on each other as she eyes him smugly which may as well be the same as open mocking from her. Gar shoots her with his biggest bestest doe eye impression. "Raaaaven, help."

"You did that to yourself. If you don't want a brain freeze: drink slower." Jee, why didn’t he think of that? 

"No no no, I have to drink it all now, so I can refill it before the movie starts. What's the point of free refills if I don't use them?"

She doesn't understand, it's not everyday the theater offers free refills on premium drinks like icees, that’s peasant soft drink stuff. So this is a once in a life time special deal and he will NOT be wasting it.

"You do know you could just… go get a refill during the movie." Raven levitates the top half of the popcorn out of one of the  buckets and covers it in fake movie butter.

"What?! And miss Warp Trek Revival? What if I miss something important?!"

"No, you're right, that's an insane suggestion."

Gar chooses to ignore the obvious cues of sarcasm in her voice.

"See? Exactly! You know this is what the death of the intermission really was the end of cinema." He gulps down more of the cherry-blue raspberry swirl goodness and braces for the cruel punishment that comes as the price.

"Right. Of course." Which is Raven speak for 'I have no idea what you're talking about, is that even English?'.

(Raven likes to act all allusive and mysterious, but he's pretty much got her on lock now.)

She always offers to stay behind and be on snack duty when they go to the movies because she hates trailers (“advertisements are my father’s work.”) and because she’s got a pathological need to be helpful- something that Gar, so, totally doesn’t relate to on a deeply personal level. Ha. Ha.

So Raven gets the snacks and Gar always helps even though Raven really doesn't need it with her mystical 'float anything' powers, because that gives him best pick and general veto power over all the snacks.

Gar leans back against the condiment stand and pretty much immediately regrets it because the table is ungodly greasy, but he's already committed so he stays put. "So anyway were you serious about not liking my hat or were you just saying that to…"

"To…what?" Raven balks at him like she’s genuinely curious, eyes wide and blinking rapidly. 

He means to say that thing she does where she's mean to him for fun, but he sort of thinks that would piss her off a lot if he pointed it out. And besides she'd probably deny it anyway.

"I dunno. So you really don't like it."

She turns back to the popcorn dressing business: one bucket with butter, salt, and pepper (?) for Donna and Dick, two buckets with white cheddar and chili powder for Wally, one bucket with extra extra (like an insane amount of extra) salt for fish head, one with two packets of m&m’s and mustard for Kory (what?), and one with butter and a smidge of salt for Gar, Vic and Raven (a.k.a. the normal people), unless they go to the theater in Ridgemont which only uses organic real cows butter (boooooo) in which case Gar skips the popcorn all together and goes for peanuts. 

"You shouldn't care so much what other people think, Garfield." 

"Oh, okay, great advice Dr. Roth."

"Do you like it?"

"Obvi. I wouldn't have bought it otherwise."

Raven hums and snatches the hat off his head. "Hey-"

Raven shrugs down her hood and settles the hat on her own head, blinking owlishly like she's trying to see outside of her own body.

She's sort of a fashion tragedy: gray hoodie with the sleeves cut off over a long sleeve white t-shirt, an ankle length brown floral skirt that looks like one of the antique couches in Doom Manor, and ratty old red converse. A patchwork of hand-me-downs from the rest of the team because she refuses to buy her own civvy clothes. She's always going on and on (well, not on and on, she's not exactly a chatterbox) about how material objects are pointless. It's a miracle she's even started wearing anything besides her cloak.

With the disjointedness of her current outfit, the hat falls oddly in place. Like with everything else going on she might as well be wearing a pink bucket hat. It's slightly too big for her head, which does make her look a little ridiculous.

Raven peers at the loose reflection in the windows. "Hmm. It looks better on you."

The hat floats back onto his head and Raven flattens down the sides of her feathery hair, she's finally let it grow out from the buzz she'd been keeping it in since the whole bride-of-Frankenstein-resurrection incident (she doesn't like it when he calls it that) into a short pixie. It's cute like this, makes her eyes look sort of big and owlish, very Audrey in Sabrina. Not that he'd ever tell her that. She's been sort of sensitive about the whole physical appearance thing (again, because of the whole resurrection thing) and besides she probably doesn’t know who Audrey Hepburn is. And Gar may be kind of a space cadet but even he knows better than to hit on Raven. Not that one friend can't tell another friend that they like the way their haircut compliments their big beautiful eyes in a totally and completely platonic way. Gar is a massive supporter of telling your friends how hot they are. Raven though-

Raven though is smiling at him in a small sort of way that he's pretty sure means she does like the hat and the thing is he's pretty sure if he told her that he thinks her eyes are really fucking pretty it would come out in a real not super platonic way.

"Oh-um-ah-"

He's saved by his phone buzzing.

Cyborgasaurus Rex: TRAILERS STARTING. WHERE R U?!

Cyborgasaurus Rex: DO NOT FORGET MY RIESENS!!

"Oh, uh, we should probably get in there."

"There you are." Raven says, hovering over him like a concerned mother hen. Taking stock of his location, Gar finds himself leaned back against the bar of an old Panda Express, surrounded by zombie bat dust.

"Here I am." Smiling makes his face hurt.

"Star and Donna are taking those kids home."

"Good. They're okay?" Whenever the cops actually decide to show there's no reason to mention any kids at all. After all, interdimensional portals randomly tear open unprompted all the time, right?

"Yes. Property damage aside, everyone is fine."

"Good."

Raven settles into the floor next to him. "How are you feeling?" He doesn't understand why she bothers asking.

"Like I just got the shit beat out of me by a bunch of mutant rats in a food court." You know, just the time of his life. Gar shifts against the floor and his head screams at him. "Think I might have a concussion."

"Agreed." Raven reaches her hand out to his sweat and monster guts covered forehead.

"Wait, Rave- I'm fine."

"Uh-uh, head injuries are non-negotiable. Besides- you can't afford to lose any more brain cells."

"Ha ha. So you're a joker now?"

"That wasn't a joke." She says as she carefully pushes the hair out of his face. Whatever, he's pretty sure he can grow new brain cells if he wanted to.

He'll never get over the way it feels when she heals him. Literal magic, there's no other word for it. The throbbing and vertigo melt away like butter in a hot pan. He can finally see clearly again: Raven's brow pinched in concentration, the small downturn of her lips.

"Thanks Saint Raven."

Raven groans as her head shakes. "Not you too."

'Him too'? He's the one who started the whole thing.

"I just call 'em like I see 'em babe."

"Fairly certain I'm closer to the antichrist than a saint."

Gar snorts. "You are not the antichrist."

"A lot of people on the internet would disagree."

"Yeah, well, a lot of people on the internet think Superman is the antichrist, so at least you're in good company."

"Perhaps we can start a band."

Gar laughs and oh, ow. It is, slightly possible that he's worse than he thought.

"Sit still." Gar obeys. It's not terribly difficult to just lie there like a giant lump. He should tell her to stop. He would if he had any shred of decency or honor. Instead he lets her heal the rest of his budding injuries. He can't even keep track of what hurts or why. He's pretty sure the sting in his shoulder is from one of those things biting him.

Raven washes that all away.

There's something sort of poetic (pathetic?) about getting his ass handed to him in an abandoned mall. He sorta feels like that's been happening a lot. Maybe he's just been taking harder hits or being reckless (he's always reckless) and sure it doesn't hurt that half their team is pretty much invulnerable but lately it seems like he's the one getting body slammed into buildings and having his guts ripped out and smashing through windows.

Maybe he's just not as good as he thinks he is.

"Better?" Raven sits back on her heels. She doesn't have a hair out of place.

"Mhmm. Good as new." Gar looks down at the blackish monster guts covering his uniform. "You know, on the inside at least. Also, I'm pretty sure I swallowed one of them, do I need to get checked for like? Zombie bat disease? Are one of those things gone alien style bust out of my chest?"

Raven's face twists into a frown. "Oh, yes, definitely. The eggs are growing in your stomach lining as we speak."

"Wait? Really?"

"No."

"Oh, phew."

"Come on, let's get you home."

"Whatever you say Santa Ravena."

"I can't believe people really buy this junk." Dick holds up a pale pink water gun elegantly shaped like an erect phallus.

"Seriously," Gar snickers. "mine already does that for free."

"Man, you are nasty!" Wally shouts while digging through a pile of snack shaped pillows. "Okay this though," He holds up a flaming hot Cheeto pillow like it's Simba and he's that mandrill from the beginning of the Lion King. "I think I definitely need."

"I've been trying to get them to sponsor me." Wally says as he tucks the pillow under his arm.

"Dude, that's never going to happen." Gar rolls his eyes. Wally is shit at name recognition. Like, ‘Kid Flash’? Terrible name. It’s just so side kick. No one wants to partner with ‘almost The Flash’. Gar can’t believe he hasn’t rebranded yet. Even Garth has his own thing now.

"Why would they not want me? Their mascot’s a cheetah, I am the fastest man alive. It's a match made in heaven." Maybe Wally should try the energizer bunny. That he’d probably have a shot at.

"Since when are you the fastest man alive?"

"Since always."

Rafiki.

That's the mandrill's name.

"Righhht sure."

Gar wanders back to the front of the store where Vic is still making a serious decision between a charmander and a squirtle coffee cup, but stops dead in his tracks at a t-shirt up on the wall. Because staring back at him, is himself. A cartoonish, less handsome version of himself, but definitely him. Mid tiger transformation, along with the rest of them. Robin, Cyborg, Kid Flash, Raven, Starfire, and Wonder Girl, splashed against a black background, and with big block letters: The Teen Titans.

"Woah. Hey check this out, it's us!"

Wally is leaning against his shoulder in an instant. "Oh shit!"

"Oh… wow!" Dick says.

"Uh, did we… license this?"

Dick laughs. "No idea. It's kinda cool though."

Wally snickers. "Oh man Roy is gonna be so pissed they forgot him, again."

"Okay, but we're definitely all getting one right?"

"Oh yeah." Wally nods.

"Vic! Get your ass over here and look at this!"

Chapter Text

Wayne Manor has never been a home.

Too many rooms, too many expensive collectibles, not that anyone cared about those. Dick still remembers the first time he knocked over a priceless glass sculpture. The sound of it tipping and shattering across the pristine hardwood is still imprinted in his memory. He had only just decided that the eccentric if slightly awkward billionaire who had taken him was sort of an alright guy, and the terror of wrecking such an expensive piece of artwork had struck like lightening. But no one had been angry at him at all. The glass was swept away and Dick's feet were checked for scrapes. Half a million dollars worth of glass shattered like it didn't even matter. The entire estate was that way: millions of dollars of history and heirlooms and not a penny of it mattered.

Even in the best of times, in the hay day of The Dynamic Duo, Batman and Robin before Bruce and Dick went and fucked that all up, Gotham City was their home. Her wind bitten rooftops and dilapidated back alleys, all the broken and rotting parts of her, 2 a.m. lunches at Pauli's, the fire escape above the Gordon's walk up. That was home.

The manor was just an oversized mausoleum for ghost boys who played at being alive.

Now, they don't even pretend anymore.

"Burning the midnight oil, Master Dick?"

Dick jolts in his seat. He isn't used to Alfred's soft footsteps anymore.

That's another thing about the manor: It's quiet.

The Tower has never known a moment of quiet in any one of her several lives. Not even the one where she wasn't a tower at all and instead an underground bunker because it was too dangerous for their real location to be known.

Maybe it still is, but the keep erecting new versions anyways.

He's gotten so used to the loud: to Kory's unshakable energy, pure golden sunlight, to the endless chaos of half a dozen teenagers, and all the (literal) bells and whistles, that he can't even remember how he stood the silence for so many years.

"You missed afternoon tea." Which is code for breakfast, Bruce doesn't do mornings and Alfred eats hot cereal for breakfast, which Dick made abundantly clear at the advanced age of ten he would not be partaking in. These days his schedule isn't much better than Bruce's, and the timezone shift isn't doing anything to help.

So it's not really about the breakfast at all.

All the same, Alfred sets down a silver tray onto the ledge of the control dash, with Dick's favorite tea, earl gray with a spoonful of sugar and a splash of heavy cream, and a cut of millionaire shortbread.

"Sorry Alfred, I guess I got carried away with…"

With coroners reports, forgotten police reports, hours upon hours of security footage from outside the bus depot, grainy video of inconsequential comings and going hoping for something, anything.

"Like father like son I see." Dick can hardly deny it these days. All those years kicking and screaming that he was nothing like Bruce and look where it got him.

"You know I have a front door." Barbara doesn't even bother looking up from her monitor.

"Window's faster." Dick says, but what he really means is the window's safer. Less of a chance the neighbors will spot Nightwing going to this apartment and put two and two together that Barbra Gordon knows Nightwing.

She really should move out of the city.

"You're lucky Cassandra is out, she doesn't take kindly to strangers breaking into our place."

Dick isn't lucky. What he is is plugged into the private network between Batman and Robin and now- Cassandra. He's still not sure what they're calling her: Batgirl, he guesses. But she's not really Batgirl. Not like Babs was- is. Maybe that's the problem, Barbara will always be Batgirl to him.

"I'm not a stranger." Dick says, but it's a lie. He's not a stranger in the same way that weird uncle you see at the family reunion and goes 'wow you're so big! remember me'. Isn't a stranger.

"We're all strangers to her." Barbara's eyes continue to track the screen instead of him and then she abruptly taps the comm in her ear. "I'm sending you the coordinates, Batman, Fifty sixth and Cornwall."

It's still weird seeing how well she and Bruce work together now. It shouldn't be surprising, they've been working together for years, but it's still light years away from the Barbara he remembers who barely cooperated with Bruce- thought she could be a better Batman.

Or maybe that's just Dick projecting his own shit.

After all, all those years ago when things between him and Bruce had become so seemingly irreconcilable that Dick got up and walked out and ran all the way to the other side of the country, he really thought she'd go with him.

So maybe he never really understood her and Bruce at all.

Barbara finally looks at him and Dick realizes he's been leaning awkwardly against the wall. His hands should be… not where they are?

"Are you going to go help him?"

Dick clasps his hands behind his back and sits on the foot of Barbara's bed instead. "Bruce doesn't need my help."

At least, not when it comes to throwing punches and saving damsels from alleyways.

"Then why are you here?"

Ouch. Straight to the jugular then. Babs must hear it too because she winces. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay." Dick says and rubs a hand across his temple, because he doesn't know, either. He doesn't quite know what he expected: that somehow he would be the person who could breakthrough whatever hell the last six years have been for Jason and convince him to stop killing mobsters.

And he knows he should leave. Bruce is fine now (at least, fine for Bruce), and Tim is as good a Robin and he was, better even. They'll be fine without him.

Dick stands up, because maybe he shouldn't have sat down at all. Maybe the dropping in through the window uninvited isn't the sort of thing they do anymore.

"The-"

"Look-"

"Sorry, you can-"

"No, it's- you go."

Barbara pushes away from her desk and wheels around to face him. "I just- want you to know we're okay, we're going to be okay. You can go home."

Dick Grayson has never been a brother.

He wasn't a brother to Jason.

Not really.

Not in any way that would have mattered.

He wanted to be, he did. Once the dust had settled and stale arguments had turned into a softer sort of understanding between him and Bruce, Dick wanted to be a part of Jason’s life.

He had never had a brother. The closest thing to any sort of sibling he's ever known is Donna, and she always tells him about his painful only child syndrome, so.

But he wanted it. Wanted to be a better brother, a real brother, to Jason. But it always fell to the wayside. Something he should do and something he would do, but he just had to defeat this intergalactic warlord first, again and again.

He would call more, visit more, learn what Jason's favorite book was, when he just found the time.

But Dick never made good on any of those promises.

He's trying to be different, now.

"Knock knock." Dick says like he's the world’s cringiest uncle before cracking open the door.

(If he's failed spectacularly at 'brother' maybe lame uncle isn't a bad alternative.)

All things considered, Tim looks fine: lying on the bed with his phone in hand he could be a normal teenager, minus the black eye. Although, frankly, that might add to the normalcy.

"Hey." Tim barely looks up from his phone as he nods.

Teenagers.

Dick sits down on the edge of the bed. "How ya feeling?"

Tim shrugs. "Been worse." Then he tosses his phone aside. "Bruce thinks I probably shouldn't go back to my dorm yet."

"Probably a good call."

It's easy for him to forget just how much they all rely on anonymity. Years with the Titans have worn down the necessity. Kory and Victor and Gar have never had the luxury of anything as crass as a secret identity. Even Donna stopped bothering. And Dick knows it's not always ideal for them, but also, sometimes, it just seems so much easier.

But it's also easy to forget that he isn't like Kory and Donna. He can't punch through buildings with his bare hands, he can’t catch a bullet to the head and walk away unscathed. And more importantly, neither can Tim.

All it takes is one person knowing who he is and suddenly his own home isn't safe.

"So, listen. I need to go back to Jump City." Dick is already bracing himself for the the way this conversation is going to go. 

One word: poorly.

"Oh, yeah, that's probably…"

"It's just, it's been weeks and-"

"No, no I get it man, no explanation needed." Tim smiles tightly, like he's trying very hard not to be the terrified boy who called Dick in the middle of the night with chattering teeth and shaking tears and told Dick he needed to come home.

"Right, so um, I was talking to Bruce and, he- I think it might be a good idea if you went with me. Get out of Gotham for a while."

That shakes the nonchalance from him. Tim snaps upright. "What? No! You're not taking me out of the field."

Right.

Suddenly Dick is seeing the scene from outside his body, only he's Bruce and he's telling himself that he's done. That it isn't right, isn't safe, to have ever put Dick in this position. As if it wasn’t Dick’s own choice. 

Dick hadn't listened then and Tim is twice as stubborn and not even half as injured.

"Not off the field, just a different court."

(Lame uncle. He's the world's lamest uncle.)

"We could use you in Jump City." It sounds like bullshit, but it's true. The Titans could use him, especially with Victor's not so secret plans to go full time with the League. It sounds like bullshit anyway.

"I'm not running away just because Bruce thinks I can't handle myself, I-"

"It wasn't Bruce's idea."

There's the sucker punch: Dick is the neurotic, paranoid one who can't leave well enough alone. And all Bruce said was 'alright.'

"What? Are you serious? Dick, I'm not some kid anymore, I can take care of myself, and Bruce- Batman needs me. You've seen what he's like lately, and you want to just leave him?"

"Bruce will be fine."

Dick has said it so many times he almost believes it this time.

"Sure, right, that's what you always say."

"It's been true so far. Look, I- just, it would mean a lot to me, if you came with. Teams' down an ops specialist right now anyway, we could really use you."

"What about Batgirl? Does she need to leave too?"

"Cassandra is different." Now he really does sound like a ass.

"Right-"

"No, she's not Robin. You are. He's targeting you specifically."

Dick is a god damn hypocrite, is what he is. And his tactics aren't working. If someone was after him, there's no way Dick would back down and go hide out on the other side of the country.

"I can handle Jason Todd."

"It's not worth the risk. I- if something happened to you while I was gone I- I don't know what I'd-"

"That's not going to happen."

Arrogant prick.

"It could. Jason's dangerous: he has the same training as you and me, and he's not pulling any punches. I know how it can feel in this line of work, like you're invincible. But you're not."

"I know that. I know every day that I could die out there, same as you, same as Bruce. That's the choice we all make when we put on the mask. And it's mine to make."

"That doesn't mean you should be reckless."

"I'm not reckless. And I'm not going to stop fighting just because you blame yourself for what happened to Jason. Which is insane, by the way. That wasn't your fault."

That's the funny thing about guilt though: it doesn't actually care who's fault it is.

"I know, I know, but I-"

"I mean seriously, you should get a therapist or something, work out some of that trauma." Tim waves his hand in a circle.

Dick snorts. "Right, sure."

Unfortunately the only psychiatrists he knows are clinically insane murderers.

So.

"I mean it, man. You need a shrink."

"You need a shrink." Dick snaps like a five year old.

I'm rubber your glue. Just because it's childish doesn't mean it's not true.

"Well… yeah." Tim balks and the shadows of the argument disappear into a fit of laughter. Two kids laughing in a circus tent.

"Look, you're right, this is about me, my shit- but it's also about you, about what’s best for both of us, and right now, for me that’s Jump City. I think it could be for you too."

Hard to do any good when you're six feet under.

Tim glances at his phone again and then says. "Okay, yeah, I'll come."

"Wait, really?" Dick is prepared for fifteen more minutes of begging and pleading and light emotional manipulation but Tim just shrugs.

"Eh, yeah, sure. It's almost spring break anyway. I could use a vacation."

"Talk about a front door." Tim says as they drive a nondescript speeder boat through the false face of island, opening into the man made lagoon which leads to the subsurface entrance to the tower. It's technically the back door.

Tim lets out a low whistle and twirls when they come out the elevator, "Wow, this place really got an upgrade since I was last here."

"Yeah, that's what happens when a maniac blasts a hole through the kitchen."

"Damn, can you send him to my dorm room?"

Dick claps Tim on the shoulders right as a violent breeze whips past them.

"Tim!" Conner barrels straight into Tim and knocks them both into the air, somersaulting until they're both have their feet back on the ground.

"Woah, there Trent Williams!"

"Oops, sorry. Hey. And also who?"

"San Fr-"

"Tim!" Cassie runs into the room and throws her arms around him. "What are you doing here?"

"Dick thought we should get out of Gotham for a while."

"Is that Tim?" M'gann appears hovering over the window.

"Robby!" Jaime yells, flying up behind her.

Jackson runs into the room and skids to a stop. "Tim's here?"

"I am also back, if anyone… cares- no, nope." Dick coulda seen that one coming. The Titans, particularly the new new Teen Titans are used to him being around and acting as an all in one combo boss-dad-coach figure.

In other words, the lamest of uncles.

"Awe, I care aboutcha Boy Wonder." Donna Troy walks into the room with a twinkle in her eye. Donna "the Teen Titan" Troy, in the flesh.

(Donna "I can't do this any more, Dickie. It never ever stops, and I can't do it anymore. I'm done, for real this time. Done" Troy)

"Donna!"

("I get it D, I really do, and if you ever want to come back-")

("I won't.")

"Hiya Dickie."

Dick gives Donna a giant hug instead of saying 'I told you so', because he's a really nice guy.

"Man, it's good to see you."

"Kor and Rae are downtown, Gar is-" Donna looks around and shrugs. "Somewhere. I'm sure they would've been here if you'd actually told anyone you were coming back."

"Yeah… I didn't want to bother anyone."

He's pretty sure Tim was bothered that he didn't get to take 'your friend's magic portals', or at the very least, the jet.

Tim only put up with Dick's frugality and insistence on flying commercial right up until they reached the gate when he gave Dick a guilty grimace and said "oh yeah, I actually upgraded to business class, so… I'll see ya when we land."

Donna snorts. "No, no of course not. And I see you brought a stray. Drake, nice to see you as always!” 

Tim has turned pink at the onslaught of attention. “Hey Donna!”

”Don’t you have school?”

”It’s spring break.”

”Ah right. And given Jump City or Cabo, this was the natural choice?”

”We’ve got a beach here!” Jaime interjects helpfully. Said beach is only a balmy thirty five degrees around this time of year. Perfect for a vacation. 

Donna nudges Dick with her shoulder. "C'mon, we should talk."

Chapter Text

It takes seventeen seconds for Oracle to read the alert. Another seven to call over the direct line she keeps for emergency such as this, four for Raven to drop her book and open a portal to the approximate coordinates.

Twenty-eight seconds in total, and it isn't fast enough.

The air is thick with ash when Raven arrives on death's doorstep, noxious fumes of burned plastic seeping into her skin and lungs.

She doesn't mind breathing in the smoke. It burns like a poorly executed whisky shot that lands in her lungs. Over time it will weaken her as she chokes on her own breath again and again. But Raven can withstand such unpleasantness.

Breathing the smoke is bearable, its the ash in her eyes she cannot tolerate. Blinding dust and smoke scratches against her cornea and gets trapped beneath her eyelids, blurring her vision. The pain, the suffocating air, the sting in her eyes and nose, she can withstand it all, but she needs her vision.

In the blinding smog, she hears rather than she sees the second missile, barreling down to the earth, but the impact never comes. The smoke flashes red and gold, more dust and debris kicking up in the air, as The Flash skids to a stop in front of her, dismantled remnants of the missile in hand.

"Fancy seeing you here." He tosses her the now harmless missile head like it's some sort of trophy.

This is no time for celebration, but she is grateful for the backup. "There are survivors in the rubble, I can clear the debris if you can-"

"On it!" The Flash doesn't wait for the end of her request, disappears in a blur so she wastes no time as well, taking hold of the rubble, the dust and ash from afar, lifting it into the air as the bodies appear in quick succession around her. Some gasping with shallow breaths against the barren road, others stumbling from the speed vertigo and falling to their knees, others still, who don't move at all.

(All this needless suffering.)

"Thatsallofthemohgoddammitdotheyneverquit." The Flash is here and gone again, another missile bears down on the earth, and disappears before the impact.

War was once such a foreign concept to her. Azarath had no understanding of violent conflict except in the ways it was used in their stories. The world Azar and her followers left behind was full of violence, of needless death and suffering in the pursuit of vengeance, and greed, and ego. But the Azarathians dreamt of a different way, a better way. And though Raven has her reservations about the way her people went about perusing that peace, that purity of conscious, she must give them credit where credit is due: they did not exaggerate the terror they had left behind.

War is not foreign to her anymore. She has seen too many battlefields, felt the fury and the pride of violence with her own hands. She understands why the Azarathians ran from it.

The rockets keep coming. Raining down like hellfire and raced away to barren deserts or redirected back into the sky. Eaten by one way portals to the vacuum of space. And yet, there are always more.

(There will always be more.)

The dead and the injured accumulate around her as The Flash continues neutralizing rockets. Raven blinks away more tears as she tries to focus on the mangled leg of a child beneath her palms, the child's wails turning to breathless coughing under the heavy smoke. There's so much blood for such a small child. Chest pulsing heavily, inhaling more smoke as a desperate attempt to keep from suffocating, it will be in vain if Raven can't stop the blood.

The Flash appears with the wind in front of her. "I think that's all of them."

"You think or you know?" Her voice comes out raw from the smoke

"That's all of them." The Flash corrects. "We should move."

Raven nods and rips a hole in the universe, reappearing several miles south with the displaced and dazed survivors. The air is still not clean, residue from the smog and smoke that has begun to drift down wind clouds the sky.

Physical wounds are easy for her to repair, even ones so severe they bring a person to death's door. She can heal any break, repair damaged flesh until it is like new, even eradicate illness of a certain ilk. The limits to her powers are few and in many cases undiscovered. Every once impossible boundary finding itself torn down beneath her hands.

But she cannot keep anyone from starving.

For Raven, and the Flash, the battle is ended, but this nightmare will continue. Food and water both in short supply, medical supplies rare. No insulin, no blood, no baby formula. The old and disabled will die first, the young not far behind.

(See how despicably wicked people can be? Their greed, their wrath, their pride, and above all, their negligence. They will let their brethren starve. They see the bombs and the guns reign down on their neighbor and do nothing. Nothing but make sorry excuses for their cowardice.)

Another child sits on a worn blanket, covered in ash, joints gaunt in the early stages of starvation, other adults from the wreckage are tending to the child but they are not the parents — older siblings, cousins, perfect strangers. Raven doesn't know if the parents are among the dead here or casualties from an earlier attack. But she does know that this child will never recover. Living, is a possibility, but there is no remedy to this life, to the horrors that have passed today, and all days.

(There is no fixing it. No amount of pretty magic and mended bones will ever make it better. This is what humans are. They cannot be made better.)

Raven is reminded of how it felt to be in Hell. Endless, echoing grief and terror emanating from countless souls and Raven can feel it all. Every last drop of suffocating despair, no mental shield strong enough to block it all out. She does not try to block it out this time, she needs to be able to sense others in order to help them. And, besides—

(doesn't she deserve this?)

People are often afraid of her. Still. Even after all her years as a Titan, as a protector of Earth. People are right to be skeptical of her, these people most of all, they have been scorned so often, Raven would not fault them for cowering from her hand. But they do not. In the chaos and the ruin they cry out to her like she is the bringer of salvation.

(This is her fault. She could have put an end to this. Stopped the endless cycle of violence and suffering written into the very fabric of human nature. All this pain, all this horrible, rotten rage festering like an infected wound, will only grow and grow. She's only prolonging the inevitable, drawing out the life support until mankind destroys everything in their wake, and for what? More suffering? The preservation of her own soul? They will never learn. They will never do anything with the miracles and the grace she's bestowed upon them but cause more and more ruin-)

"Well, I'd say we make a pretty good team."

"What?"

The Flash — Wally, is standing with his hands on his hips like a big red beacon among the makeshift camp with an upturned smirk on his face. He's proud. Wally West thinks this is a job well done. How could he not? The people are cheering for him.

(See? Even the best of them, even the so called 'heroes' succumb to the thrill of glory. They take to the battlefield to win, growing apathetic and numb to the weight of the lives lost, and worse- the lives not lost, those who will be forced to persist in a constant cycle of hope and pain and disappointment. Turning to vengeance, turning to more violence. There is no saving them. The human soul is fundamentally corrupt. Even Azar knew that, misguided as she was. But there is no purging evil from humanity, humanity is the evil. It can never stop, will never stop. They bring only ruin. Every ounce of joy, every pleasure tainted by the insurmountable, endless suffering. The true injustice is that she allows them to continue inflicting their pain and their violence. Isn't she meant to be a force for good? She can end the pain. She can make it stop. We can make it all stop.)

"-earth to Raven?"

Wally is shaking her not gently by the shoulder.

She is going to vomit. "I need to not be here."

Wally nods. "You got it."

And then she's gone. Pulled away and spit out in some wide open field. The relief is instant, even as the speed sickness threatens to throw her off her feet and she stumbles to her knees.

"Woah there!" Wally crouches to a kneel and holds her up. "You good?"

Raven nods. 'Good' is perhaps not the correct term, but the unyielding pain has ceased. The cacophony of fear and grief paralyzing her washes away to only Wally's soothing calm. It's funny to think of anything about Wally West as calming. But he is familiar, and familiar minds are always easier to block out, she knows what to expect, how to account for them. And Wally, despite no longer being a Titan, is as trained as the rest of them. He knows how to quell his emotions in her presence. Raven has no choice but to be grateful for the kindness.

Still, the whole ordeal has put her at ill-ease. She's getting worse at this. She's gone up against the horror of war before, battles that far exceeded this one in both duration and casualty, walked among the undead themselves, the endless nightmare of eternally suffering souls, and held herself together. Simply put, she's losing her touch.

Off her game, as one might say.

Perhaps it's because she's been especially maudlin lately. If she were to fear the worst she would suspect her father's influence. Only, she is knows better than that. Even if he were to return (it's only a matter of when, not if) he doesn't hold the same power over her that he once did. It's a blessing, which also means that whatever terrible thoughts and impulses she might have are undeniably, inescapably her own. There is no evil doppelganger locked away within the dark confines of her psyche. It's all just her.

And Wally West. Who has gotten up off the sunburnt grass and is chattering into the comm in his ear, talking at such a pace only those select few who have trained for years in the ways of wallyspeak could hope to understand.

"-wereallgoodheretalktoyoulaterloveyoubye."

Turning to her as he ends the call, Wally shakes out his shoulders and cracks his neck side to side. "We are all good here, right?"

"Yes. I- uh." She doesn't have an excuse and she certainly doesn't want him to call Dick back. "Yes."

"Cool, you had me kinda freakin' there for a second." Wally looks around the barren landscape: shallow hills of wild foliage and rock, no discernible features, and shrugs. As disorienting as Wally's super speed is, Raven finds having no reference for her location more unsettling. She assumes they haven't left the continent only by the relatively similar position of the sun in the clear blue sky. She isn't a skilled enough botanist to glean much of anything from the trees by the patterns of their leaves.

Wally yanks down his cowl, revealing a flushed face and smashed hair, which means truly must be somewhere recluse. He runs a hand through said hair, he keeps it shorter than he used to, a more mature cut. Likely his Linda's influence.

"Wanna grab lunch? …Or dinner? …Or breakfast? Designated meal times are sort of meaningless to me but I'm starving. And no offense but you kinda seem like you shouldn't be alone right now."

Duly and resentfully noted.

"Gee thanks."

Wally steps back and raises his hands. "Hey, none of my business. But I am starving and my favorite dumpling place just opened-" Wally glances at the watch on his wrist, embedded directly into the cuff of his suit. "-thirty seven seconds ago. So it's basically fate, ope- thirty eight seconds, thirty nine, forty, canwegoraeI'msohungry?"

She should say no. Raven isn't hungry herself and despite Wally's misconceptions about her need for social companionship, Raven isn't a normal person who can be mended by a quality dining companion (not that she would categorize Wally as such anyway.) And alone time, preferably in a dimension void of any other living organism who she is at risk of harming, is precisely what she needs right now.

"Fine." She says anyway.

"Woo! Okay, hop on, cupcake." Wally points a thumb at his back, which is at least preferable to being carried.

"My way is faster."

Wally's spine straightens as he twirls back around to face her. "Okay... You did not just say that."

"It's true." Raven isn't intentionally trying to provoke him, it's merely an unintended consequence of her presentation of factual evidence meeting the insurmountable force that is Wallace West's great big ego.

So perhaps she is trying to provoke him, a little.

"No- no, you cheat, that's not- it doesn't count." Memories of old banter rise up like ghosts, it's a tired and well practice performance, Raven knows her lines.

"Perhaps not in matters of sportsmanship, but in matters of actually getting to our location faster, it absolutely does."

"Whatever, you don't know where you're going anyway, so-" Wally kneels down, "up ya go."

Raven could blink home in an instant with little more than a half hearted apology the next time their paths crossed and Wally would likely take it in stride. The consequences for disengaging from this entire outing are negligible.

Raven sighs and wraps her arms around Wally's neck, bracing for the incoming vertigo anyway.

She's expecting a bustling street, but Wally comes down from speed on a vacant cliff side. Significantly more scenic than the last, though no more discernible and just as void of other people. Raven has spent too long looking at maps and not nearly long enough looking at landscapes. "I thought we were getting dumplings."

"I am getting dumplings, you're enjoying the sunrise from this secluded, human free cliff side. Back in a jiff."

Wally takes a step and winds back down. "Don't jump."

"I can levitate."

"Okay, do jump then." Wally's hands lift up as his face scrunches into a confused grimace, and then he's gone in a blink.

Raven sits down in the grass. Despite the lack of people, the cliff side is still alive. Thousands of invisible insects and vermin digging beneath the ground, the grass itself. Beyond the cliff, the ocean is a roaring beast, filled with more life than one can even imagine. Raven finds herself, not for the first time, envious of the Earth herself, envious that she cannot unshackle from her own body and become one with the planet.

Seven and a half minutes later Wally is standing next two her with a large paper bag and a dramatic roll of his eyes. "Sorry that took forever! There was a line."

The word line is enunciated in the same way one might speak of a plague.

Wally drops down onto the grass and starts digging through the bags, taking each item out until they are surrounded by food. "Okay, we got three orders of pork egg yolk soup dumplings for me, six steamed pork buns also for me, one hot and sour soup, also for me, mushroom baozi for you, two jainbing, one for you one for me, that weird canned tea you like, and a beer for me."

"Do you think you got enough food?"

Wally snorts, "See, I know that was sarcasm but honestly no, I will definitely need to go back for seconds."

The Flash has no decorum, chewing with his mouth open as he shoves a soup dumpling into his mouth whole, and then shrieks at the steam.

Raven pops open the can of Wong Lo Kat as Wally downs the rest of his food too quickly for her eyes to follow. "Oh man-" He lets out a belch. "That hit the spot."

"That was disgusting."

"Hey now, don't judge."

"Oh I wasn't judging, I was merely stating fact."

"What can I say, I was starving!"

"You are always starving."

"I know, it's a curse." Wally drops his head down and then rips the bottle cap off his beer. They fall easily into a familiar banter, but it's not sustainable, turning quickly to silence when old jokes run out.

"Sooo, how've you been?"

It seems fairly obvious how she's been.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"I've been well." Well enough. She's not sure what else to say about the matter. Raven has given him the appropriate and expected response to the question when asked by people other than one's psychiatrist.

Wally sniffs and wipes his mouth. "Right, no yeah, that's super deep, I definitely feel like our friendship has been strengthened by that act of vulnerability."

Raven shrugs. "Sorry, there isn't much to report I'm afraid."

"Well, you look good, though that's pretty much a given."

"Wally."

The man shrugs "What? I just call 'em like I see 'em. I like the thing you've got going on with your hair."

He waves his hand in a circle in the direction of her head. Raven smooths over one of the pink clumps sporadically dispersed throughout her hair and tries to decide if Wally is making fun of her.

"Emiko did it, you should see Dick's."

Wally gasps. "No. Don't tell me-"

"She thought robin egg blue was very fitting."

"No, no, no- tell me you're- oh, you're joking." Wally is exceptionally easy to provoke.

"You need to get over your obsession with Nightwing's hair."

"I'm not obsessed, I just think it's very nice."

Raven also thinks Dick Grayson has very nice hair, but she doesn't agonize over it. "It's not healthy."

"Look, guy's got great hair. I just think it would be a tragedy if something were to happen to it."

"It's hair."

"Great hair."

"How does your wife feel about your obsession with Dick's 'great hair'?"

"Oh she agrees! Dick's hair is a frequent topic of conversation in our household. That and his a-"

"Wally."

"A-mazing personality."

Raven laughs through closed lips at the poor attempt to regain propriety. Wally's face splits into a wide grin.

"What?" Raven asks, glancing away from the intensity of his gaze.

"Hmm? Nothing. It's just nice to see you laughing, and being- Idunno- normal? I know that- I just- it's just nice."

For all his rambling, Raven understands exactly what he means. It's easy to forget how foreign the act of being human once was to her. How much of a miracle it is that she can express herself in any capacity, let alone to the extent that she can. It's no surprise that Wally would comment on it. He's eternally flighty: here today and gone tomorrow, of course he would notice changes in her more distinctively.

Wally is still smiling but there's a melancholy in him. Raven feels like she should apologize for the words that fall between the cracks of his compliment. Sorry that she couldn't have been this way sooner. That she hadn't believed in herself the way that Wally had always believed in her. A misplaced faith in most regards but in this matter he was right. Raven had been so certain that she'd never be able to attain this sort of liberation. Too terrified of herself to even dream of trying.

She knows he doesn't mean to take it personally.

But that doesn't stop the seed of resentment, nagging voice telling him that he wasn't worth trying for. She'd like to tell him he's wrong about that. It was all her. Her failings, her faithlessness, she hadn't been ready to overcome them then.

But it's all just too little too late.

No reason to crack open old wounds just for the sake of milking her own need for absolution.

So instead she just smiles again and says, "Thanks."

The conversation dies a gentle death. Raven carefully rips the fried and folded pastry Wally has procured for her.

"Have you heard anything from the rest of the league?" She asks because it still borders on a subject that could be qualified as business.

Safe.

"Nope- nada, zilch. Watchtower's like a ghost town. Ghost space station? It's basically just me and G.A."

"Sounds like a party."

"Totally. You know, offer still stands if you ever change your- "

"I won't."

"You know for a girl who almost ended the world, you sure know how to hold a grudge."

So much for safe.

Wally winces as his own harsh words. "Sorry, I didn't uh- sorry."

"It's alright."

Raven isn't holding a grudge. She can't blame the league for not trusting her because Raven isn't a trustworthy person. Every skepticism held towards her turned out to be true, one way or another. In any case, the hatchet has been buried for quiet some time. The leagues' trust of her, even if it is only extended due to the immense trust they have in Dick Grayson, is no longer a matter of contention.

But the other part is true. Raven did nearly end the world. Multiple times. And regardless of her supposed status as 'reformed' or how many golden hearted heroes vouch for her, the truth is, she still thinks about it, a lot. And perhaps that's true of many people. She isn't so self centered to think she's the only person to experience the errant thought about wanting to watch the world burn, but there is a significant difference between herself and other people. Raven could do it if she wished.

"Hey, do you wanna hear a secret?" Wally pipes up, as if abruptly changing the topic can will away the sour mood between the two of them.

Raven bites her lip and plays along, perhaps it really can be that easy. "I'm not much for gossip."

It's a lie, well worn and familiar to the both of them. Wally snorts.

"Well we both know that's not true. C'mon, it's a juicy one."

Raven sighs loudly. "Oh, alright."

She can't imagine what sort of secret Wally could drum up with a mostly absent Justice League; that Green Arrow and Black Canary use the watch tower for recreational activity when no one is around? But that's hardly a secret. That Donna and Roy 'made a mistake', also known as having drunken intercourse in Donna's brownstone apartment, the last time Harper was in New York? Again, hardly a secret. All of Wally's gossip tends to revolve around sex. But, if he's coming to Raven with it, he must be desperate to share.

"Linda's pregnant."

Oh.

Well, that is about sex, technically.

"Wow, congratulations." Raven says quickly.

It isn't a surprise, per say. Ancient nursery rhymes foretold of precisely this progression of events.

Wally's face turns a mild pink. "Thanks, yeah, we just found last week."

He churns with excitement. Unbridled and bursting with anticipation. It's contagious.

But she can't imagine she is at the top of the list of people to share such valuable news with. "Well that is juicy then…. should you be telling me this?"

"It's not a secret secret. I just haven't told anyone yet. Dick's been, ya know, busy, and Donna… after everything she went through I just — didn't know what to say. And my parents are just, you know, so that makes you the first."

Dick wouldn't be too busy for this. She refrains from saying so, because that is the point. Dick Grayson would and will undoubtedly make time to celebrate the impending West baby, and for Wally, that's exactly the problem. Raven does her best to ignore the distinct melancholia that passes between Dick and Wally with every milestone passed in Wally West's persistent quest towards picketed fence suburbia. That falls squarely in the purview of not her fucking business.

"Well, I'm honored, then. How's Linda - how are both of you?"

"Good, yeah, um- terrified but good- excited. You know? I mean it wasn't like we were trying, but we were also not- not trying- if you know what I mean?"

"I get the picture, yes." As uncharacteristic as it may seem, Raven is familiar with the fundamentals of human reproduction.

"Yeah, well, I mean it's just like, I can't believe it's happening mostly. Like happening happening." He hasn't begun to panic yet, but Raven can sense the threads, building to something that will eventually boil over. Not today, but certainly before Linda's due date. "The whole thing's crazy, right? Especially with my powers- there's so much we can't plan for, I mean what if they end up like Bart? Or- or if something happens to Linda."

"Nothing's going to happen to her, Wally."

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't. But I know you worrying for the worst won't do anything to help her or the baby."

"Right. Yeah- right. So you don't think we're crazy for doing this?"

Her opinion on the subject shouldn't matter. But if she were to have one, "Not at all."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. I mean Roy's got a kid and-" Raven doesn't know if she would consider Roy Harper's decision to procreate a testament to 'not crazy'. But Raven has seen the love between Wally and Linda, felt for herself the devotion and respect they have for one another. Wally has an old and bad habit of seeking her validation and Raven does not wish to encourage it. But she has no doubt that he will make an excellent father. Raven tells him as much.

"Thanks."

"Linda too. She'll be wonderful."

"Oh I know. Lind is going to be amazing at moming. She's amazing at everything— so no surprises there." Wally says matter of factly.

"I'm truly happy for you, Wallace."

"Thanks."

"Wally?"

"Hmm?"

"Where on Earth are we?"

Chapter Text

Gar isn't like an idiot, 'kay?

It's not his fault that his best friends are 'guy with a super computer for a brain' and 'girl raised by magical sages' and '200 year old alien from a way more advanced planet' and 'the world's greatest detective (jr)'.

They all just make him look dumb by comparison.

And sure, he has a tendency to space out from time to time but that really isn't his fault. He's got the 'mind of a million animals' running through his brain at all times or whatever.

Point is: he's actually kind of smart.

But even he's got to admit he's totally fucking lost.

"I think this is the same as the Mayan 'T'ab',- hand me that book." Raven shakes her finger towards the bed, which has no less than seven books scattered across the bedding. "The red one."

Ah-hah.

"Thanks-" Raven begins furiously flipping through the book and muttering to herself. "No, that's not right."

The book flies over his head and lands in some corner of the room. And people accuse him of being a slob.

As far as he's been able to follow, Raven is attempting to reconstruct an Olmec spell, that may or may not even exist, for reasons that were definitely explained to him an hour ago.

"What's so special about this spell again?"

It's not his fault for forgetting. Again, the whole bazillion animals running through his head (a real thing that is definitely not a lie he tells people to excuse his poor listening skills.) he's been distinctly distracted.

Pants.

Specifically a particular witch's aversion to them. Ten seconds post fucking his brains out, Raven yanked on the same big belly burger t-shirt she keeps stealing from him (that Gar may have stolen from Dick four years ago but that’s not important) and sprawled out on the floor of her bedroom sans pants to start on her 'very important research' or whatever.

Warm light from the actual- definitely a fire hazard- candles she uses as the primary lighting source in her room dances over her calves and thighs, disappearing into shadow where the hem of his shirt has rucked up over the curve of her ass. He's pretty sure he zoned out for a good half hour just watching that light flicker.

Worse than that, he can smell her. Specifically he can smell him on her. The lingering salt and sweat from their first above the belt morning workout and then their second below the belt morning workout. And maybe it's just that he's already ran a 5k and came this morning, all without any breakfast, but the scent has got him salivating.

But she made it very clear that he was only allowed to stay if he didn't distract from her stupid research.

"Spells are stronger near their geographical origin."

"Right, yeah I knew that."

Raven begins writing again then scratches it out with prejudice, the motion causes her hips to shake the tiniest amount and his gaze, naturally, falls to her ass again. He wonders if she'd mind if he just buried his face there for a little while.

She's got to be feeling how fucking horny he is. Gar feels like it's literally radiating off of him and that's definitely the sort of thing she keeps tabs on. He hasn't figured out if she's torturing him on purpose or just doesn't give a shit about his suffering.

"What are you doing?" Raven whips her head over her shoulder to glare at him.

Specifically, he's kneading the arch of her foot with his thumbs, because he knows her feet get sore easily and he needs to be touching her somehow so help him god. But he answers: "Nothing, just keep doing your thing."

She pauses writing again when he reaches the top of her calf. "Garfield. I'm trying to work."

"Mhmm. I know, keep up the good work champ."

Really, he's not doing anything.

When his hands make it to the junction of her thighs her spine twitches. "Gar. I asked you not to distract me."

'I asked you not to distract me'. She says, like she's his fucking mother or something. It sorta makes him more horny, which is maybe weird but it's not like he can help it.

"Just pretend I'm not here." He runs his thumbs gently over her soft skin, pulling her cheeks apart and watching them bounce back.

"Gar." Less of a warning, more of a whimper. "Don't think I won't kick you out."

Thing is, he doesn't think she will. Gar leans over her so he can whisper directly in her ear.

"Please-" She likes it when he minds his manners. "I'll die if I don't get my mouth on you."

"I highly doubt that."

"Please baby." She also likes it when he begs. "You can keep working, just please let me taste you." He swears he won't be a distraction. She can keep on working all she wants.

So anyway, that's a fucking lie because he ends up finger fucking her on the floor, tongue buried deep in her ass as she whimpers into one of her old books until she comes on his hand.

When his work is done, Gar climbs up to lay on top of her back. "I thought you were working?"

She's still panting into the crook of her arm. "It's like — you want — to get sent — to another — dimension."

"If that gets me sent to the shadow realm-" he nips at her earlobe. "-definitely worth it."

Gar rolls off her and snatches the nearest book which is written in a completely unreadable alphabet and definitely looks like it should be in a museum somewhere. "So, explain this spell thing to me again?"

The glare she shoots him is venomous, and maybe it's a sign that there's something deeply wrong with him that it brings him so much satisfaction.

Too much negative attention as a toddler, Niles would say. Like he was disappointed that his newest behavioral experiment of 'raising a child' was tainted by Gar's preexisting condition of shitty and also dead bio parents. Niles really should have started with a newborn if he wanted to get all the kinks out.

Raven stands up and yanks on a pair of shorts. Which only makes him think that she was doing all that on purpose.

She lies back down next to him and pulls the book from his hand. "It's a theorized Olmec incantation for regeneration."

"Right, yeah, what?"

"Mostly it would have been used as a form of fertilizer, but it could also be used to aid in healing lesions and other wounds." Oh, of course, obviously. Why'd he even ask.

"Can't you like… already do that."

"Yes, but this could reduce the strain on my powers." The look on his face must be the human equivalent of the swirling computer spiral of death because she sighs and keeps going. "Think of magic like water. To cast a spell, you must get the water to flow through a channel of intention. For most people, it's nearly impossible to do alone, even with a talisman it can require tremendous fortitude of mind and spirit, will power you might call it-"

"Like the lantern rings?" See, Gar knows stuff.

"Exactly. But water leaves a trace when it flows, follow the same path enough times and you get a river, that's what spells are. By anchoring your intent to a specific phrase, it becomes easier to channel more magic."

"Making it more powerful."

"Yes. And relieving the strain on my own power. It doesn't have to be a phrase either, it can be a symbol, or a dance, or a pattern, that's how the runes on your arms work." Raven pokes at his forearm.

"I thought it was magic ink."

"It is also that."

"You know I think I like yours better."

"Sorry, there weren't many options in regard to design."

"I didn't mean- I like them- just, yours are cool."

Real smooth, Garfield.

Gar traces over the spiraling pattern on the back of her neck. "What's this one do again?"

"Containment."

"What's it contain?"

"Me."

"Right, obviously."

"It helps me keep my magic from manifesting without my intent."

The rest of her is a patchwork of smaller patterns and designs. Some that he can recognize, like the hamsa on her shoulder or the Atlantean cloaking sigil on her left pinky. He draws his finger over the chain like patern that loops up her arm. "What about this one?"

"Protection charm."

"This one?"

"Also a protection charm."

"What about-"

"I thought you were supposed to be helping me?"

"I am helping. I'm familiarizing myself with the topic." He pushes her shirt to reveal the Azarathean inscription on her hip. "What's this one."

"You'll never guess."

"Protection?"

"A girl can never be too safe."

Gar pushes up her t-shirt higher to where he knows there are two black wings cascading down her shoulder blades. "Do the wings help you fly?"

"No, of course not. I don't need help flying." She scoffs like she's been insulted.

"Right, no yeah of course not. So what do they do-"

"They look cool."

"No arguments there." He pulls her shirt back down and hooks his chin over her shoulder.

"You know, I was thinking about getting another one."

Raven snorts. "The cartoon cat and decapitated wolf weren't enough for you?"

By 'cartoon cat' she means the the tattoo of Garfield on his calf, which is hilarious actually. And the wolf on his shoulder is not decapitated and very cool. Gar only gets tattoos under the most clear headed and well advised conditions.

Gar gasps dramatically. "What? You don't like them? But, yeah, I-D-K, I was thinking of getting something cool, like maybe a giant Raven right here." He points at his bare shoulder and grins.

"That's not funny."

"What? Oooohhh You think it's because of- no. I didn't even make that connection, I'm actually just a really big fan of the poem."

Raven rolls onto her side and rests her head on her knuckles to better glare at him. "The poem?"

"Yeah you know? Edgar Allan Poe: 'Once upon a midnight dreary as I wandered soft and weary-"

"That's not how it goes."

"What? Of course it is."

"Once upon a midnight dreary as I pondered weak and weary, over many quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore."

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"It isn't. 'While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping-"

"Quoth! The Raven!"

"No. There's six more stanzas until that part: 'Tis some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door, only this and nothing more. Distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow. From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—Nameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating-"

"Okay, okay I get it." Of course she'd be able to recite the whole thing on command.

"It's a good poem." He'll take her word for it.

"Didn't that guy marry his cousin?"

"Yes."

"Weird."

If Gar didn't know any better he'd think he fell into a time warp while he was sleeping and woke up five years in the past: Donna and Kory are lounging at the bar while Dick attempts to yell over the sound of his own blender. The only thing missing is Wally rushing into to eat all their food and then disappear for six hours.

Dick's attention turns to him and more imperceptible words are thrown around, even with Gar's advanced hearing.

"What?" Gar yells.

"Sorry!" The blender stops. "Shit- sorry. Want some juice?"

"It's rancid." Donna helpfully comments.

"It's not, I swear." Dick grins like that doesn't make it all the more sus. Maybe it's just that special parental touch, but Gar is pretty sure there's something in the water in Gotham that sends Dick on a health kick (well more of a health kick than normal) every time he leaves that place.

But Gar's not the type to turn down zero effort food. "Sure, thanks dude."

Robin 2.0 (3.0 but no one talks about that) strides right through the automatic door without even looking up from his iPad. "Sec system is fully operational, also I was able to- oh. Hi Beast Boy."

"Sup T-man?"

Tim tosses the iPad across the island. "I also fixed the heat pump for the swimming pool and the opening mechanism on the front door."

"Have I mentioned how much I love this kid?" Gar nudges Dick in the shoulder. "He's basically like a better, younger version of you."

Dick rubs a hand over his face. "Don't remind me."

Gar claps Dick on the shoulders and grabs the suspicious green juice. "Don't worry Dickie, you'll always be my favorite bird boy."

Gar downs it as quickly as he can. If he's learned one thing about Dick's miracle juices its that it's better to just get it over with as fast as possible.

"So, it's no big deal, but do you guys think you can make it to the show tonight? It's closing night and I know the kids would all feel really great if there were some superheroes in the crowd."

"Are you not a superhero?" Kory asks, head lolling to the side like a confused cat.

"Apparently I don't count."

"Brutal. But- hmm." Donna says and then flops her head the opposite direction. "I get it."

"See what I've had to put up while you've been gone?" Gar groans.

"Sorry bud, you and I both know there's nothing I can do to save you from the wrath of Donna Troy. But yeah, we'll definitely be there." Dick says and scratches at his head. "Unless another kaiju attacks. In which case your S.O.L."

Kory squints. "Esohel?"

"Shit. Outta. Luck."

"For-ev-errrrrrr." The whole cast harmonizes on the single last note as the flood lights cut, ushering in applause from the audience. Gar is the first on his feet, clapping with the sort of gusto he hopes pressures the rest of the audience to clap even louder.

Not that they need it. The performance stands all on its own. Some groups fizzle out before their last performance and can't hack it on closing night, but not his kids. If anything, the show is even better now that they've had time to iron out all of the kinks.

Jackson leans over and whispers. "That was actually good."

He knows. Which isn't to say that Gar wouldn't have dragged his whole team out even if the show was bad, because he absolutely would have. After all, what better encouragement and moral support can a bunch of theater kids get than a group of super cool super heroes that kids these days definitely don't think are sort of lame and old filling up the front row? 

The Titans make up about twenty percent of the total audience, but to be fair they're still a puny little community theater- most people who wanted to see the show already have. Gar's prodigy director immediately invites the whole team to the official wrap party, but it doesn't go late. (There's another, unofficial wrap party that Gar is pretending he doesn't know about because no one knows better than him the importance of unsupervised teens only time. How else are they supposed to get the next generation of dudes with shitty cat meme tattoos?)

So all fucking twelve of them (Look, Gar isn't saying twelve people is too many people for a super hero team. After all the Justice League is like fifty people at this point. Granted they cover a lot more ground than the Titans, which, barring extraordinary circumstances mostly keep to the confines of California. But having a bigger team means things like days off, and Gar definitely is in support of that. So sure, twelve people is perfectly fine for a super hero team. But it is definitely way too many people to show up unannounced at an unreserved restaurant without getting shit service and dirty looks from everyone inside.)

So all fucking twelve of them, plus Kelsey, because she's the only other adult member of the theater therefore not invited to the secret real wrap party, all file into Sal's for their incredibly mediocre but eternally discounted pizza. The rodeo that ensues is definitely unbecoming for a group of definitely public figures and supposedly role models. Even from separate tables (because there are tiers of adults, and Gar has finally graduated from the kid's table) they make way too much of a commotion. It's a miracle they make it out without someone asking for an autograph or for them to shut the fuck up.

"How're you getting home?" Gar asks Kelsey when they've settled up the bill and have all poured out onto the sidewalk, because he knows she didn't fly here.

"My car's back at the theater, I just called an uber."

"Okay, cool. I can wait with you." Because nothing says don't fuck with this unassuming young woman alone on the sidewalk like a whole superhero standing next to her.

"Hey, so, sorry if that was like, super overwhelming for you. I swear were professionals." He probably should have thought that through before inviting her honestly. Kory and Donna went immediately into the twenty questions game which was entirely earnest on their part but no less extremely intimidating. Meanwhile Raven and Dick jumped straight into shop talk. All the while Jaime and Virgil are shouting about the best soda fountain combos in the background.

"No, it was fine! You friends are really cool. I didn't expect them to be so… normal."

"Yeah, that's us, just a group of totally normal friends, nothing unusual or out of the ordinary at all."

Kelsey laughs and pushes her glasses up against her nose. "I mean it, they're nice. I had a good time."

"Cool."

"So-" Kelsey frowns. Shit, this is the moment she tells him she's quitting the theater isn't it? That place will literally fall apart without her. "-I know this is- I mean I hope this isn't weird, but, do you want to get dinner some time? Like without the entourage?"

Oh.

The question hits him smack dab in the chest. "Oh- I… um—"

Kelsey blinks hard. "Shit. Forget I-"

"No it's um- I'm flattered- I um- I just-" Have a girlfriend.

Except he doesn't.

Technically.

Kelsey's hot. Five years ago he would have jumped at the chance to take her out. Probably would have asked her out the first time they met like a total twat. As it stands now though, Gar is sort of perpetually preoccupied by being pathetically in love with his best friend who is also a girl. But it's not like he can actually say that.

"I'm sort of… seeing someone." Is the work of genius he comes up with.

"Oh. I didn't- sorry. I feel like an idiot."

"No, don't. I mean, under different circumstances I would definitely…"

"That's um- yeah no, that's- totally cool. Would you mind just pretending this never happened?"

"Yeah, definitely. Consider it forgotten." A very well timed black lexus pulls up just in time for Kelsey to escape with an awkwardly thrown out 'good bye'. And Gar has never been more relieved to be out of a conversation. Shit. Now he really does have to worry about her quitting the theater.

Raven is waiting for him on the street corner all cloak and dagger style with her hood up like she's trying to melt into the shadow. If he wasn't trained to her scent like a bloodhound she probably would have scared the absolute shit out of him.

"Donna talked Dick and Kory into going out for drinks, I told them I'd wait for you in case you wanted to join?"

He's still sort of dazed and could probably use a drink.

"Yeah, sure. Uh- Kelsey just asked me out."

Gar bites his tongue- maybe he shouldn't have told her that on the off chance she decides to track down that uber scare the ever loving shit out of Kels. He doesn't really take her for the type, but he reaches for her hand as a preemptive measure just in case. As if she needs any additional evidence that Gar is unquestionably obsessed with her.

Raven just smiles. "I'm not surprised."

"Wait, you're not?"

"She's liked you for some time."

"She does? Wait- you knew? Of course you knew, never mind. Fuck, well that's awkward." Kelsey will be professional about the whole thing, (unless she quits) but he still feels like he's gonna need to hide away from the theater for at least three weeks as just the polite thing to do.

Maybe a whole month.

"Sorry, you know I couldn't say anything." Yeah, yeah. Raven's always so noble about the whole not telling other people about people's private emotions. Except for when she isn't and spills anyway. "I'm glad she worked up the nerve to though."

"That- wait? You are?"

"Of course."

"Why? Wait- obviously I didn't say yes."

"You should."

Gar stumbles to a stop, pulling Raven with him. "What? Why?"

"She's attractive, kind, you have shared passions." Raven says so matter of factly. If it were anyone else he might think this was some sort of test. But Raven's never played games like that. Besides, what's there to prove? She already knows how he feels about her.

"Yeah…I guess?"

"And she's vegan. And you haven't been on a date in some time. It could be good for you."

That's not really fair. They go out all the time. And sure they're not date-dates. But Raven literally had her fingers in his ass this morning, it's not exactly like he's missing out on anything. "Right, yeah I've been in total dry spell- definitely need to- wait you look serious. Why do you look serious?"

Raven frowns. "I am worried that you are letting our sexual entanglement distract you from finding a suitable partner."

What the hell does that mean?

"What the hell does that mean?"

Raven drops his hand and wraps her arms around her torso. "I know this has been a… convenient situation for both of us, but I do not want it to deter you from seeking out other options."

"Convenient? Seriously?"

Gar's a fucking idiot.

Look, he gets that he's not really anyone's first choice. Let alone for someone like Raven. He's got…issues, to say the least. He knows he can be difficult to be around and just- a lot. And Raven- Raven is quite literally a demigod, she could be with anyone in the god damn universe. And having to deal with his emotional backwash all the time can't be easy. He knows this whole thing started with her barely earned tolerance, but he thought that- that at least after all this time that she- that- what? That she loved him? God, is he really that pathetic? Convincing himself that she could really love him. She told him from the start what this was and of course he'd let his imagination- his ego- convince him it was something more than just convenience for her.

"Garfield, fuck- I'm sorry." Raven's face crumples, eyes going worried and shiny and fuck.

No, no, no- fuck.

Because of course she's got a front row seat to all his fucking self pity. And she's so fucking noble of course she'd think it's her fault. "What are you sorry for? You're right."

"I didn't mean it like that."

Raven reaches for his hand again and he flinches because he knows how she meant it. Knows this has been just something to pass the time for her. That it's easy for her to give in to him when he's right there and in love with her. But it's never been what she's actually wanted. Half the time he thinks she's only with him because it's easier than telling him to fuck off. And she's so fucking committed to her own martyrdom she probably thinks she owes to him. Like it's her job to make him feel good and give into whatever fucking whims he has simply because he wants them. He's going to be sick. His whole throat feels like it's going to crawl out of his mouth and really he shouldn’t feel embarrassed about the prospect of crying because she's already seen the whole humiliating inside of his brain.

"Gar." Why the hell does she look like she's about to cry? That isn't fair. This isn't fair. He needs to not be here. He can't be here. He can't-

"It's fine, Raven. Actually, I think I'm just gonna fly home."

Gar shrinks into Aphelocoma californica and takes the reduction in brain size like a shot of Novocain, trusting in little more than instinct to get him home.

Gar touches down on the roof of the tower just in time to hear his phone ringing and for a ridiculous moment he thinks it's going to be her. But instead the words pop up in all caps: NICK CORBIN (AGENT!!!)

He should send him to voicemail. "Hello?"

Who the hell calls at 10 o'clock at night anyway?

"Logan! Hey, it's Nicky, how ya doin'?"

"Listen, this is-"

"I'll be quick man. Trust me, this is worth it. I just got off a call with WB. They're doing a live action prequel series that you'd be great for the lead! It's sort of a dark comedy, think Maleficent— but funny! They want you to come in and do a screen test, but the role is basically yours if you want it."

Gar blanks out a little after the words 'Warner Brothers' and 'Series' and 'The role's basically yours.' All things that squarely fall into the category of too good to be true, like maybe he hit his head while he was a bird and is actually drowning in the middle of the bay instead of talking to his annoying ass agent.

"Wait- sorry, Nick I'm not following. Prequel to what?"

"The Grinch! Isn't that perfect?"

Oh.

Right. That's- yeah. About what Gar should have expected. It's not- there's nothing wrong with that. Gar dressed up as the Grinch for Halloween like two years ago.

The Grinch. Jim Carrey. Yay!

"Oh. That's um- great."

"I know! Say thank you Nicky. You can be in L.A. by Wednesday right?"

"Oh- I'm not sure I… yeah, you know what? Yeah. I'll be there."

"Fan-tas-tic! This is gonna be great Logan."

Great.

Chapter Text

She was born in the depths of winter, in the dark and cold, no mother waiting around to teach her her first steps. Nature is so often unforgiving in this way. Despite her size, she is still in her infancy: full of fear and confusion, even in this sedated state. There is a particular type of dread unique to such a young and ignorant creature. No ability to rationalize, to remember the circumstances that lead to their current state, only constant, crushing fear.

Fear, is vital to survival. It's a warning: apprehensive pain to prevent the body from incurring harm. And Raven knows better than most that removing fear can be a dangerous game. She's walked that tightrope a long time, learned the line between psychic healing and emotional amputation. But this creature's fear will do her no good. She should be afraid. This place is not safe for her. No safety in captivity, especially here of all places, but that fear will not release her from the trap she is caught in. There is no escape for her. No purpose to the dread that flows through her body and storms within her mind. The least Raven can do is allow her to know peace.

Raven reaches into the creatures mind and pulls at the threads of distress until they unravel, a calm and tranquility washing over her. It's only a small comfort. It isn't enough.

"What the hell are you doing?" The accusatory voice echos along the dark and empty room.

Raven sighs and lets the tether between her and the creature dissipate. This interaction could have been avoided. Dick would have preferred it that way. Raven has ways of going unseen and it's not as though she didn't sense Waller coming.

But why bother?

Amanda Waller is nothing if not vigilant, she would have come knocking eventually. And besides, Raven would like to speak with her, even if she finds the notion all to irritating a prospect. Even if she knows Dick will inevitably be displeased about it.

"Reconnaissance." Is Raven's answer.

"You don't have the security clearance to be in this compound, let alone-"

Protocol. As if the A.R.G.U.S. Director has any respect for such things, except for where they benefit her. There are sacrifices to playing by the Devil's rules though. Namely, Raven's respect for such rules.

"I won't be long."

"I could have you arrested."

"Could you?" Raven is curious. Frighteningly so. She's knows certain contingency plans exist to contain and disarm her. Plans that she doesn't even have knowledge of by her own design, Intentionally removed from her own consciousness. Dick has a plan for her, and an oath follow it if and when necessary. The Justice League has a plan of their own, she's can't remember if it was made at her request or not, but suspects it would exist one way or another. Raven has no doubt that the U.S. Government has a plan as well. Though she's certain in this case she wasn't ever consulted.

She also knows none of these plans have ever been tested. Any effective strategy to neutralize her would by nature, only work once. A person like Amanda Waller undoubtedly understands the value of nonlethal containment, the sedated creature in-front of her is evidence enough of that. But Raven is skeptical the director has the means for such a feat in her case. Other people, more virtuous ones, or perhaps just those with less contempt for the state might come willingly, view it as their obligation as a hero.

Raven feels no such obligations.

"I do not intend to antagonize you Director."

She didn't come here to break the law, either. It is simply not a factor for consideration. This could be a partnership, if either of them were more open to cooperation.

"You have a funny way of showing it. What exactly are you doing?" Raven supposes that's question is enough of an answer to her own. If Waller had the ability or the intent to restrain her, she would have done so already.

"Attempting to locate this creature's origins."

"Our labs already provided you with all the information we've gotten on it. A courtesy, by the way." Calling the feds in the first place was the courtesy. Or a mistake. Wonder Girl is still learning just how and where the Titans fit within the law, still too trusting of the government to be collaborative force for good.

She'll learn.

They should have called Arthur Curry. If any of the realms of men were going to claim jurisdiction over this creature it should have been the Atlantians. Amanda Waller should be lucky they aren't getting involved. This would be a bad time for a public fight over national property.

"Your methods are insufficient." Another reason Aquaman should have been contacted. Perhaps Raven should have brought Jackson with her, but that would just introduce another person for Waller to threaten. Raven isn't willing to bet on his ability to call Waller's bluff.

Waller scoffs. But despite her own pride, Raven's claim is accurate, and Waller knows that. Or else she wouldn't be standing here entertaining this conversation.

"So. Find anything?"

"She was not born in captivity. The incident in the bay was her first encounter with humans." She is just a child.

"She is not malicious," Raven reaches out to the creatures amphibious skin, cold to the touch and paper thin. "You should release her back into the ocean."

"That's not your call."

It could be. Raven possesses every ability to free this creature, it is only out of respect for her fellow Titans, for Cassie's decisions that she doesn't.

Humans don't hold any power over her besides that with which she gives them. But Raven meant it: she does not wish to provoke Waller.

"No, but it is my advice. Her suffering here is needless." A.R.G.U.S. has already collected any genetic material they could need from her. Neither A.R.G.U.S. or Raven have found any evidence of behavioral tampering, she isn't chained to the will of another. Her only crime was being born too close to shore.

"It's a threat to the American people."

"And that's what you do isn't it? Lock up threats." The creature whines. Amanda Waller knows she isn't a threat. But just because someone isn't a threat, doesn't mean they cannot be made into a weapon.

"You're not as untouchable as you think Ms. Roth, I think it's time you get the hell out of my laboratory."

Raven offers Waller a smile, before disappearing from the A.R.G.U.S. Laboratory.

Raven doesn't go back to the tower.

Instead, she wanders through the infinite space that exists between the folds of the universe.

Few attempts have been made to catalogue dimensions with any sort of academic rigor, even among societies far more technologically advanced than the ones on Earth. Particularly because there are very few beings even capable of targeted interdimensional travel, let alone people who can do so safely and with ease. And the few who can tend to be distracted drunkards or embodiments of pure evil or otherwise not interested in wasting their time assembling observational reports.

Raven had been working with Malcolm Duncan for quite some time to document what they could, but S.T.A.R. Labs, while not uninterested in the study of other dimensions, considers it a low priority in comparison to matters pertaining to this dimension. And between his obligations at S.T.A.R. and his obligations at home, Mal has very little free time to devote to the endeavor.

Raven has nothing but time.

Consequences of her heritage, she already requires little sleep and is unburdened by the usual constraints of a human lifespan. But it's more than that. Time, itself, is a replenishing force for her. She's not bound by the same linear limitations as mortals, she moves through time with the same freedom that she does space. She does her best to stay in step with the perception of other mortals, there is a certain detachment that develops when one grows careless with the passage of time. She tries to refrain, pacts made with certain speedsters regarding the use of the moments that exist between seconds. (As it turns out, spending perceived days inside a single frozen moment can be somewhat taxing on the psyche when one returns to the normal flow of time. She and Wally have both agreed to stop doing that recreationally.)

It breeds a certain discord between herself and mortals. Stepping out of time, breaking chains of cause and effect make it difficult for her to feel human.

She isn't, anyway. But she does try to pretend.

But there is no natural synchronization between dimensions. And short of an interdimensional clock, she must rely on her own best judgment to align the passage of time spent in one dimension to the next. Nightwing may be waiting for her back in the Tower, but Raven doesn't think he'll mind if she takes the long way home as long as she arrives back in the Tower in the right moment.

Raven walks through world after world, scribing any notable findings in a worn leather notebook she keeps on her person, hoping one of them will hold her attention enough to spend more than a few minutes jotting notes.

There is a dimension with tall and windy trees, with droopy tufts of cotton candy colored leaves that Raven is particularly fond of. It reminds her of those children's books with the whimsical drawings. The grass is blue and spongy which one sinks into like a foam mattress.

It took Raven several visits to realize that the planet was in fact, trying to eat her. Fortunately digestion is arduously slow, and one could spend hours if not days on the surface before the digestive acids start to irritate the skin.

Another favorite is a quiet rocky land with a less concrete understanding of gravity. Floating mountains and furry whale like creatures that fly though the sky. The unnamed ground creatures, small, muff like rodents take a liking to her. She prefers to stay away from dimensions with other humans and intelligent life unless she has a good reason. Though she did happen across a dimension inhabited by super intelligent corvids, which she finds rather charming even if it is cliche of her.

She hopes the crows forgive her. Her very presence is a violation, carved in the blood of her conception. Raven is the personification of her mother's rape. An uncloasable wound recreating that sin everywhere she goes. Simply being near her is like having the skin peeled off the muscle, revealing the inner most sacred and private parts of a person regardless of how much she tries to shield her eyes away.

Raven would quarantine herself in an empty pocket of the universe if she weren't afraid that the isolation would drive her to a madness that would make her vulnerable to her father's resurgent influence.

Only, that's not true.

If Raven really cared, she'd throw herself into the depths of Tartarus, or find some other way to expunge her soul from the universe. Rip her body to shreds and burn the pieces. Instead she makes excuse after excuse. Rationalizing the carnage of her continued existence out of nothing more than her own selfishness. Time after time she prioritizes her own desire for connection, for friendship, for love, over the privacy that she rips from everyone who dares to extend an ounce of mercy to her. She supposes the apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all.

The crows will forgive her. But they shouldn't.

Mostly, other dimensions are empty. Endless voids or copy pasted versions of her own Earth. Varying in imperceptible differences, changes played out on the quantum level. Some, are more noticeable. Like the time Raven stumbled into a dimension where the earth had descended into a vampiric apocalypse, or dimensions where all humans evolved with two heads.

And of course there is that damned bar.

A half demon walks into an interdimensional bar and…

A half demon walks into an interdimensional bar and Raven doesn't know what the punchline is supposed to be. She never was very good at jokes.

The air is thick with tobacco and incense, just as thick with the cacophony of emotions, artificially bolstered by the liquor and the ambiance. People tend to forget consequences in a place like this. The emotional fumes are sickly sweet and make it hard to think. Azar used to tell her that in times of intense emotional distress she could use pain, both physical and mental to overwhelm her mind. Distraction in the form of self flagellation. Less elegant than meditation, but a tangible solution in the midst of loosing control. Raven doesn't think this is quite what she had in mind, but it does the trick.

Her shoes stick to the floor with every step as she makes her way to the velvet bar stools. Red velvet, chosen to project an air of class and elegance, flattened and dulled by grease and dirt and peanut crumbs collecting in the seams because the oblivion bar is anything but.

(She might feel more charitably towards the so called mystical oasis if a single one of it's patrons were willing to take a few extra minutes out of their days of drinking and reckoning with magic far beyond their understanding to help with the interdimensional map. Raven enjoys being around other magical users, there's a kinship there, one she hasn't felt since Azarath. Of course, Raven was always a pariah among the Azarathians. For all their guidance and knowledge, she could never meet them as equals, not even Azar, not even her own mother. So she might be inclined to enjoy a place like Oblivion Bar, if not for the interdimensional liquor and the general attitude that 'second to the right and straight on 'till morning' was a sufficient enough identification system.)

A man who calls himself 'Nightmaster' takes her drink order and doesn't blink twice at her request for hot water and lemon. Raven supposes there are some redeeming qualities to the place.

"Hey, I know you."

Raven's cloak blocks out nearly everything in her peripheral but she can smell the man as he slides into the stool next to her, ash and motor oil beneath a thick layer of cologne. Raven has no point of reference as to whether it is an expensive or cheap variety, but given the astringent scent alone, she'd guess the latter.

"No, you don't."

That's the other trouble with a place like this. Too many people looking to strike deals with devils for stronger, better magic. And these days Raven is far too renowned for her own comfort.

But Raven is not the bargaining sort.

"Yeah, yeah, I do. You're Raven. From the Teen Titans. We fought together against Neron back in- oh when was it? '19? You helped me get out of hell. I'm-"

"Daniel Cassidy. I remember." Raven pulls down her hood. She supposes he falls under the definition of a friendly face. She remembers him as an earnest man, if not the most intelligent. Habit of poor decision making and bad jokes but otherwise tolerable.

"Just Dan, but most people around here call me 'Blue Devil.'" Daniel- Dan, gives her a toothy grin, like he's made some sort of joke. Raven's afraid she's missed the punchline again.

"So hey, it's cool that I ran into you. So I've actually actually- I've got this kid, well- he's not my kid, exactly, it's a long story, his aunt was…"

She doesn't know what it is about her that makes people inclined to share their every thought and feeling with her. For a while, she suspected it might be a side effect of her demonic heritage, but if her empathetic powers really were effecting others, it would certainly be to encourage them to stop talking.

"…but he's like- my side kick, ya know? Anyways, he's a big fan of you guys and a pretty damn good hero if I do say so myself, even got himself some powers of his own, not that I condone that…"

She doesn't mean to be uncharitable towards Dan Cassidy. He's truly a nice man. Historically misguided, but well intentioned, at least. Truly, it's her own bad attitude that makes listening to him difficult. She didn't come here to be bothered. Perhaps he is not the only one prone to misguided decisions.

"-and I was just wonderin' how one might go about applying to that team of yours."

"He wants to be a Titan?"

"Sure does, and I think that could be good for him, it's good for these kids to hang out around people their own age, ya know?"

Truthfully, the Titan's don't have a recruitment process. Unofficially they acquire new members through luck and nepotism. The Titans may not be the glorified clubhouse that they were when they first banded together, but Dick Grayson still holds remnants of that mentality. Current application requirements include: show up and help in battle, have one (1) heart to heart with Dick Grayson. Raven would like to say that method has yet to prove ineffective, but there is direct evidence to the contrary.

Raven finishes her drink and stands up. "We aren't the Justice League, best way onto the team is to ask nicely. Tell him to come to Jump City, meet with Nightwing. I can't promise anything but-"

Dan blathers thank yous as Raven blinks out of the bar, it isn't offering the sort of oblivion she's looking for.

Dick and his newly acquired shadow have decayed in the place she left them. Dick's feet have found themselves crossed on top of the dashboard while his head has sunk a quarter down the back of his chair. Tim has gone the other direction, knees pulled up to his chest as he squats in the rolling office chair.

Her presence sucks all the joy and ease from the room. Tim jumps in his seat at her sudden appearance, embarrassed that he's caught by surprise. Dick sits up straighter in his chair as his grin fades into something more serious. Raven is used to sensation, air drying like a sip of dry red wine. All tannin. She doesn't hold it against people. Her sudden presence where empty air was a moment earlier is indeed startling.

"Okay I know Waller is… Waller, but you could try not to provoke her." Dick is still smiling, but the gentle suggestion as his version of a reprimand.

"Why would you let her see you at all?" Tim is less pleased. He doesn't have much direct confrontation with agents of the federal government. Buys into their many threats.

Raven has already moved on mentally from her visit to A.R.G.U.S., exactly why it's unwise to let her experience of time fall out of sync. She tries to bring herself back to that moment, let's Tim and Dick's emotional resonance recenter her thoughts and feelings on the topic at hand.

"I would have been seen by the A.R.G.U.S. security system regardless, I was mitigating the need for a later confrontation." Tim isn't familiar enough with her abilities to call her on the lie, and Dick's silence bolsters his doubt. The young Robin relies too heavily on his predecessors opinions.

"Just-" Tim starts, beginnings of an order. "Let's hope it doesn't happen again." Well, they aren't planning on breaking into A.R.G.U.S. again, so it's rather moot.

"So, was what you told her true?"

Despite her less than favorable opinion of Amanda Waller and her operation, Raven has no reason to withhold information from from her. They're rather similar: herself and Waller, driven towards results by any means necessary. Raven may not hold the same goals as Waller, but she believes in her effectiveness. Waller could be a useful ally, given the right circumstances.

"Yes, sorry. I wish there was more. She hasn't had any outside influence, human or otherwise, at least from her perspective."

"She?" Tim asks.

"The creature."

Dick sighs. "Maybe we should call Garth."

"Who?"

"Aqualad- er, the original Aqualad. He goes by Tempest now."

"Oh, right."

Raven observes the interaction between the two boys with quiet interest: Tim's tinge of embarrassment at not knowing something, the flicker of melancholy within Dick, because Garth is someone that his brother should know. But Garth was the first of them to leave, has grown even more reclusive since returning to Atlantis, rarely venturing up to the surface world, let alone America. It's a reminder of the passage of time, of his own mortality. Or maybe Raven is reading far too much into things.

"Are we sure these attacks are interconnected?" Raven asks.

"It's one hell of a pattern." Dick answers. But humans are prone to patten recognition, seeing connections in the random chaos of the universe. A pattern does not indicate a connection.

"Yes. Compared to the last ten years, there's been a 2000% increase in giant monster attacks over the last few months." Tim

"What about beyond Jump City?"

"I looked at that too, everywhere else has been stable, so, yeah. I'd definitely say they're connected."

Dick's head goes over the back of the chair towards the ceiling. Perhaps they should have saved this discussion for the morning. "Guess that makes our work easier, then. One mystery instead of seven."

"Eight." Raven corrects. "The giant grasshopper makes eight."

"Giant grasshopper?" Dick and Tim ask in unison.

"You didn't miss anything."

Tim stands up. "I'm gonna go take a look at the chip you pulled out of that robot again. That's still probably our best chance of finding anything."

Raven doesn't extend the recommendation that he wait until morning for the endeavor. Tim Drake is an adult, and it's no matter to her if he chooses to stay up all night corrupting his laptop with an unknown malicious computer chip.

Raven takes his spot in the chair. "Didn't Barbara already look through the software?"

Dick shrugs. "Yeah… but, can't hurt to have a second pair of eyes."

"He won't appreciate you giving him busy work."

He shrugs a second time. "It was his idea. I just didn't… stop him. Plus, he really might find something." Tim Drake is smart, Raven agrees that much. But if Oracle didn't find anything useful, Raven doubts there is anything at all to find.

"So…" Dick starts. "What do you think?"

Raven doesn't need to ask about what. "She doesn't know anything. And she's not holding anything back. If this really is who we think it is, Waller is just in the dark as we are."

She's careful about the language she uses. Raven isn't the only person in the Tower who can see and hear more than they should.

"Maybe it's not him."

"Maybe not." Maybe it's nothing. Maybe they're all just seeing patterns where there aren't any, looking for neat and tidy ways to contain all of their recent battles into one singular problem. Lex Luthor is a reformed man, after all. And he's proven just how much people love a redemption story. The half Kryptonain in their living room is a testament to just how illegitimate that redemption is, but still, Luthor would be cautious about anything that might destroy that pristine public glow of reformation. "But we don't have any other leads."

Thanks to the growing surveillance state, it's just not as easy to unleash a giant robot on an unsuspecting city without a trace like it once was. Money can buy a lot of things, but it's also easy to trace.

Raven feels the way it's eating at Dick, he hates it when a trail runs cold, hates the malaise that comes from not being able to crack a case. And she suspects that he was partly hoping to return to the tower and solve the mystery with ease, counting on the easy win to bolster not just his own spirits.

A voiced reassurance dies on her tongue. Raven tells M'gann all the time how important it is to separate the known from the shared. The least she can do it take her own advice. Dick's doubts are not hers to know, hers to comfort. He's aware of her, of her abilities, if he wanted to talk about it he would.

"Hey-" Dick flicks a wad of scrap paper at her and Raven catches it mentally. "Are you alright?"

"Of course."

"You sure? You seem… I dunno." She hasn't even told him anything and he's already meddling. Dick certainly isn't nearly as intuitive as she is, but he's still too perceptive for his own good. She has to stop keeping the company of detectives.

"I am fine." Besides, he's one to talk. She has not and will not dive into the maelstrom of emotions simmering just below his surface, but she sees them all the same. "Are you okay? You haven't said much about Gotham."

"Oh, yeah. I'm good. It's - I mean it's a total mindfuck and- but I'm good. Yeah." She takes him at his word despite her observations to the contrary. If she can not grant others privacy, the least she can do is allow them the dignity of their own word.

"Okay, good." Raven smiles, Dick smiles back.

Chapter Text

Every third Thursday of the month at six a.m. sharp, a giant pallet of Monsters are helidropped on the roof of Titans Tower. Two years and they haven't missed a single delivery. It's loud and rattles the whole tower and it doesn't help that someone's also pounding on his bedroom door.

"Gar! Your dumbfuck energy drinks are here!" Cassie yells and pounds on the door one more time for good measure, rattling the steel frame.

No one was fucking complaining two years ago when Gar scored them all a lifetime supply of free energy drinks. But now all the sudden- no, yeah, he gets it, it's fucking annoying. Even with their steadily increasing numbers there's no way the Titans can drink all that Monster in one month. One of the Tower's storage rooms is becoming overrun with cans. It's going to bleed over into the hall soon if he doesn't figure something out.

Gar almost wishes he'd stayed in L.A. another night just to avoid this, but that would have meant running the risk of having to see Steve which, yeah, he's not interested. Besides, he doubts that would have stopped Cassie from banging down his door- she can fly from the bay to L.A. in half an hour and is definitely petty enough to actually do it.

So Gar drags himself onto the roof to where the horrible, shrink wrapped nightmare cube is sitting with a cute little note on it that says "We love Beast Boy!"

Fuckers.

It's windy on the roof but not windy enough that the whole chopper veered off course and crashed into the bay. Which would have been super terrible, of course, but also- would have saved Gar a lot of trouble. The hair on his arms gets a little thicker on instinct.

"Holy shit! They sent you all this? For free?" Tim Drake is gawking at the monstrosity (ha! Get it? Cuz Monster?) with the awe and disbelief of someone who's never gotten a brand deal.

Gar remembers when Emiko and Jaime were this hyped over his monthly monster delivery too. Eventually, everyone gets sick of it but Gar's not going to pass up the opportunity. "Yeah man, you want some?"

"Fuckin- yeah. Dude, this is awesome." At least Tim Drake is the gift that keeps on giving. Gar really should talk to Dick about getting the kid to join up full time.

Gar's only able to pawn a few cases off on him though, that's the issues with this whole situation: it sounds great, until you get into the logistics of actually carrying multiple racks of energy drinks, which even for the superstrengthified among them is awkward and annoying at best.

Gar can get away with offloading around a dozen cases onto his team, which only leaves him with….

Eighty five cases, and of course it's all on the roof which isn't inconvenient or anything. Normally he'd just call Wally to take it all off his hands but apparently he stopped drinking that shit because he's got to 'take care of his heart health now.' Which is fucking ridiculous. He's The Flash for fuck's sake.

If Vic were here he'd just have him boom tube 'em into the sun or some shit. Which would probably get him a lecture from Dick about the responsible uses of boom tubes or whatever but honestly, worth it. Raven refuses to help him on principal, something about learning from his mistakes or some shit.

Besides, Raven is… well she's sure she'd deny the accusation that she's avoiding him. But she definitely is. And sure, Gar has been gone for a few days. And sure, he did sort of run away the last time they spoke. Which definitely makes it seem like he's the one avoiding her. But Raven has a way of disappearing. He knows she's around, every time he enters a room it's like she was just there. But she has this knack for being exactly where he isn't, probably because of all her third eye sixth sense stuff, which only makes him more sure she's doing it on purpose.

"and you get a 30 rack… and you get a thirty rack… and-"

In a way, Gar bestowing his unsuspecting friends with unwanted energy drinks is really just him getting into character. It's very fucked up Christmas elf of him.

Not that Gar is going to take the job.

He's done the whole sideshow masquerading as a film star thing before, and it doesn't go well. There's a reason he sticks to stage acting these days, and it's not just because the lighting obscures the whole green thing. Frankly, he's kind of used up his tolerance for taking notes from Hollywood execs, and besides, given the fact that he showed up at the studio and proceeded to give the absolutely worst screen test of his entire life, and still got an offer, doesn't exactly speak to his confidence in the project.

And if they really cared about making a show about him that channeled his 'unique comedic vision' or whatever it was the casting director said, they'd let him host a revival of cribs, not put him in some knock off Wicked melodrama.

Gar abandons another six cases on the kitchen island with a piece of printer paper taped to the top that he writes "DRINK ME" (please, god, please) on and that brings him down to seventy nine.

"Seriously? They're still sending these?" Dick asks with disbelief, as if he expected something to change in the three weeks that he was fucking around in Gotham.

"I know. Legit I do not know what to do."

"Dude." Jackson cringes as the stack of carbonated battery acid. "You've got to call them or something."

Jackson does at least pull one out of the top box and tab open the can, so at least there's that.

"I've tried."

"They could at least send you the good flavors." Jackson grimaces.

"They send me every flavor. The rest is on the roof, knock yourself ou-"

The red emergency light blares in time with the siren alarm— as if this morning needed any more problems.

Ceratotherium simum aren't naturally very aggressive. Unless they get angry. And Gar would say he's pretty angry.

He slams horn first into Mammoth, sending them both barreling into a cabinet. Maybe angry's the wrong word, more like, super-duper annoyed. "Seriously Baran? I thought you were done with all this?"

Mammoth just growls and charges back at Gar, who shrinks into a hummingbird as big and angry crashes into a cement wall.

"Ouch. That looked like it hurt. You know you don't have to do this, Baron? We'll help you out."

"Don't need your help." That's just great. Gar switches to silverback, also not a naturally aggressive animal, but desperate times…

Gar used to make a point out of turning into endangered animals specifically: increase publicity, get the word out, that sort of stuff. But he's pretty sure it's had the reverse effect because now everyone thinks gorillas are natural rageoholics. (To be fair he might be able to pin that one on Mallah and Grodd. Those two really worked non stop to give gorillas a bad name.) Now it's too much of a habit for him to stop.

"Geez- grumpy. Hey, you wouldn't happen to want like three thousand cans of monster would you? Might help with that bad attitude-"

Mammoth lunges at him. "Shut up you dumb monkey!"

Gar jumps and lands on the guard rail of the second floor. "Gorillas are apes not monkeys!"

That's sort of a moot point though because he's shifted into a sort of generic capuchin/rhesus/human hybrid thing- so pretty much the definition of a dumb monkey.

Mammoth chucks a microscope at Gar's head. All that wasted pro footballer potential goes shattering into the wall behind him. Not that it would have mattered, metas are banned from the NFL and almost every other major sports league.

"C'mon Baran, this is really getting old." Gar flings himself from the railing and flits into a hummingbird for the ol' reliable of fighting techniques: annoying people into submission. Gar buzzes around Mammoth's big ugly head, who responds by throwing another thingamabob at him.

"Not cool dude, biomedical funding is already tight enough without you breaking all their equipment." Actually, it's Gar's own fault. If the Titans hadn't ambushed their little heist, the Fearsome Five (four now) would have stolen whatever the fuck they were after and left the rest of the lab unscathed. Probably. In fact, they've probably cost way more in damage than they would've in stolen tech. Gar will write the lab a big fat check when he gets home, but it kind of makes the whole battle feel like an ego trip. Like what is he even-

THWACK

A giant hand connects with Gar's featherlight body and Gar shrinks down even smaller before he turns into bird soup on the wall.

Parasteatoda tepidariorum lands softly on the drywall and scurries to a recluse corner of the wall. Mammoth can't see him like this which gives Gar a moment to check out from the fight. He's stomping in a circle and yelling something that Gar can't quite make out. Spiders don't have ears. It's sort of like being underwater. Gar should probably tag back in, but really what's the point? He's just killing time until-

Cassie bolts down from the ceiling like actual lightning and launches onto Mammoth's back. Gar scrambles back into a human body so he can at least pretend to be useful.

"Okay big guy- think it's time for you to calm down." Mammoth swats at Cassie's chokehold as Donna enters stage right in all her cosmic cowboy glory and gets her lasso around Mammoth. "Stop fighting."

And just like that he does. Too fucking easy.

"Thanks Wonder Girl." Cassie says.

"You're welcome, Wonder Girl." Donna answers.

What a pair of dorks.

"Thanks for the assist, ladies." Gar shuffles away from the wall.

Dick's voice blares through the comm in his ear. "Wonder Girl, Gizmo's getting away. Can-"

"On it. Beast Boy can you-"

"Baby sit big red? You got it. Go!" Donna releases the hold on Mammoth and both Wonder Girls rocket down the hall way.

"Well, guess it's just you and me now Baran." Gar plops down on the floor next to Mammoth. "Silent treatment eh?"

"I don't want to fight anymore." Baran responds, courtesy of Donna Troy and her handy dandy mind control rope.

"I know you don't buddy." Maybe it's just wishful thinking but Gar hopes it's more than just the mind control. "So, what are you doing here then? Thought it was time to break into the medical field?"

“I’m not telling you shit.” Baran growls. Too bad Donna didn’t tack on and tell us all of your secret evil plans to her instructions.

“Yeah, okay, fair.” Not like it's much of a secret plan anyway. There's only so many reasons a person breaks into a lab that specifically studies metahuman genomics. "Just doesn't really seem worth going back to prison for. But what do I know?"

"Of course, betcha weren't planning on getting caught. But then, why pick J.C. of all places? Like come on, man, you had to know we'd catch you guys. Don't tell me you just missed me that much."

"Shut up." Baran growls, hands forming into tight fists.

"Yeah. Yeah okay, wouldn't want to test the limits of that Amazonian magic." Gar has been known to annoy someone to impossibilities on several occasions. "But really man, what happened, I thought you got out?"

"You don't know anything."

Yeah, Gar guesses that's true. He also guesses he shouldn't feel bad, either. It's not like he and Mammoth are friends. But fight enough battles against someone and it starts to feel like you know them. And Mammoth isn't a bad person. A pain in the ass, sure. Not the best decision maker, definitely. But those are both things people have said about Gar. Maybe he's just feeling sentimental because they're both a couple of freaks people take one look at and decide to either run from or pick a fight with. Maybe he just knows nothing good will come of sending him back to prison where he'll just get picked up by Amanda Waller's metahuman murder brigade. It's not like being a bully for the U.S. government is any better than being one for Psimon or whoever the hell is leading them these days. At least out here he's got the choice to leave.

"I know you're better than this. So is your sister." Gizmo and Psimon not so much, grade a assholes those two. If Gar had fallen in with people like that, people like Dr. Light, as a kid instead of getting picked up for Niles Caulder's museum of freaks, well, Gar doesn't know if he'd be much better off than Mammoth and Shimmer.

The thing is, though. Niles is a grade a asshole, too. So is Steve for that matter. It's not like the Doom Patrol has never committed a crime. Sure they've got an ideological commitment to doing good in the world or whatever, but Caulder has always been wholly apathetic to the law. And the Titans may have better bedside manner than the DP thanks to Dick Grayson's winning smile and willingness to shake hands with mayors and lawyers and supermen, but they're really no better. Vigilantism is still technically illegal and even if it weren't Gar can think of at least four laws they've all broken just today.

"Don't act like you give a shit about us."

Between Raven, and Wally, and Vic, they've broken into pretty much every government building there is. Lexcorp, Kord Industries, that one Big Belly Burger that was running a coke front. It's not like they have warrants. They aren't cops. Dick has repeated those words so often it's burned into the back of Gar's brain.

"Donna didn't compel you to stay here."

"What?"

"I mean, you could try to escape, and I'd probably have to turn into a t-Rex or something to stop you, but, I dunno, I'm feeling pretty tired, man, might not get up in time."

"What kind of fucked up trick is this?"

Gar shrugs. "Not a trick, you've got a good ten minutes at least before the cops get here."

"Ain't no way I'm leaving Sel."

"Suit yourself. I'm sure prison will be fun." He shuts his eyes so firmly they disappear completely, and doesn't open them again until jar brain is in cuffs. (Gar doesn't know what it is about dudes with exposed lobes trying to fight him.) Some of the others got away, but cops make Gar squirmy so he doesn't stick around long enough to find out exactly which ones.

An uneven knock at his bedroom door interrupts Gar's attempt at a mid day nap. Too much shit has been happening for one morning.

Gar groans into his pillow. "Unless you want another case of monster, go away."

"Gar?" Raven's voice is hollow like a birdsong and Gar trips over his bed in attempt to get to the door.

"Hey, um- hi."

She's still in her cloak, drawn tight around her shoulders. "I can come back later."

"No- no! It's fine. What's up?" Gar leans against the doorway in a totally cool and nonchalant way that doesn't at all seem like he's desperate for her attention.

"I- may I come in?"

Gar scrambles out of the way and Raven floats into his room like some sort of ethereal godling. She always looks out of place in his room. Not just because his room is an explosion of neon coated junk and Raven has an archaic sense about her, like she's from another time, or outside of time entirely— which in a way she is. It's like the light reflects differently off her than everything else, shadows don't fall where they're supposed to. Gar wonders if anyone else has ever noticed that.

"Are you okay? After today?I know Psimon is a sore spot for you with… you know." No one likes a Trigon fanboy, but it's definitely worse for Raven.

"Whatever deals Jones had with my father have long expired. Clearly." Raven’s response is dismissive and damning but it’s also not an answer at all.

"Right, yeah, good."

Raven frowns and her feet abruptly find the ground as if her body suddenly has mass again and the whole room feels heavier. "Garfield, I want to apologize, for the other day- I shouldn't have-"

"No, I should- I'm the one who should apologize, I shouldn't have flown off like that. I acted like a dick and you were just trying to help and- I'm sorry."

It doesn't come out quite the way he practiced it in his head. (And in the mirror.)

Raven swallows loudly, lips pursed like she's trying hard not to bite her own tongue off. "No, it's my fault, I shouldn't have interfered- it's none of my business who you date, or don't date."

Right, okay, good. They've both made their bad apologies so they can close the book on this and move the fuck on. Done. The end.

Only it sort of is her fucking business.

She could say the word and he'd never so much as look at another person- he'd gouge his fucking eyes out. If she asked.

And it's not like he'd need her to do the same. He doesn't care what- or who she does (okay, that's not exactly true. He cares. He cares a lot. The thought of her with anyone else causes a sort of rage drunk frenzy in the base of his skull. But the point is- he'd deal. Lock it up with all the other insane animal urges he gets on a regular basis.)

But whatever, none of that matters. Raven doesn't want any of that. And Gar's basically got a masterclass in being super duper chill about the whole thing.

"Yeah it's uh cool…"

See?

Maybe Gar used to be that guy who had no chill and thought that he needed to proclaim his everlasting love to every person who gave him the time of day but he's so over that. He can do casual. If the last few years have been evidence, he can totally do casual. And sure, he wouldn't exactly call living together and eating together and having crazy psychic sex and sharing your deepest darkest fears and secrets with someone casual. But who knows? Besides Gar could say that about most of his teammates (sans the sex stuff- but if he's being honest sometimes also the sex stuff) anyway. He's never been that good about discerning friendships from relationships, anyway. He gets in way too deep. But it's fine- it's a him problem. He can handle being friends with benefits or friends with an unspoken, unacknowledged romantic undertone or whatever nebulous unsaid thing Raven wants this to be. He can be that. And when she inevitably gets sick of him or decides she'd rather be thousands of light years away doing bigger and better things because she never loved him the way that he loves her and so it's not a big deal to pick up and leave he'll deal with that then. That's future Gar's problem. Gar would rather take what he can now than risk fucking that up too.

So it's totally cool.

"Gar?" That's her 'are you okay?' Gar.

"Seriously, it's no biggie." He smiles extra wide just for her. And if Raven had any sense of decorum she’d take the hint.

"Garfield, I know when you are-"

"Okay, what the fuck do you want from me?"

Shit. That was supposed to be an inside thought.

Gar clenches his eyes closed and hopes that when he opens them Raven is gone because this was all a hallucination or at least she's willing to pretend it was and ghost out.

Instead, he opens his eyes and Raven's are glued to the floor, whole body frozen in place like moving might spook him.

Maybe he really is just that fucking stupid. Because he doesn't get it. He knows her. Knows that she practically goes around looking for swords to fall on— so she can't be doing this on purpose. She isn't trying to make him feel like a half dissected frog aspirating on the table of a high school science lab.

"Because I am trying so hard- I get that you don't want this to be… anything and I get- that's fine, ya know? I mean- like don't expect anything or- or anything, but I- I mean… you know how I feel about you."

"Garfield…" He hates the way she says his name, like it's a tragedy.

"Shit, nevermind. It's- don't worry about it."

"Gar, I am so sorry. I-"

Her hand reaches out and it takes everything in him not to stumble backwards and into the bookshelf.

"Don't. I- it's not your fault. It um- sucks, but, it is what it is, you know?"

Fuck.

He sort of hates himself for that, but what else is he supposed to say? She's got a direct line to all his messy gooey feelings and no amount of ignoring that makes it not true. And he knows it's not great for her either; knowing what everyone feels all the time sounds cool for five seconds, until you realize what kind fucked up Faustian deal that is. And Raven is pretty much chronically guilt prone so there's no way that him feeling like shit about the fact that she doesn't love him back is like, awesome.

So yeah, it sucks. But whatever.

Raven's half extended hand finally recedes as she pulls her closed fist up to her chin. "I've gone about this all wrong. I never meant to make you think your feelings for me were not… reciprocated. I-"

"Wait. What?"

Maybe he's getting lost on the double negative but that sounded a lot like — Gar's pretty clear on his feelings towards her, as in madly, humiliatingly, definitely not in a just friends way, in love with her. As in, when he sees old people holding hands he thinks about her and starts blushing.

Raven bites her lip and frowns at the ground. "I thought that I… it doesn't matter. I haven't been fair. I should have been more forthcoming, with my feelings. Especially when yours have been so exposed."

"Oh." Suddenly he's rethinking this entire conversation. "That's, um- just to be clear what are those feelings exactly?"

"Strong."

"Strong, like unbridled hatred or-"

Raven shakes her head no. Which for Raven might as well be a grand gesture.

"Oh. Okay. Um- cool." His mouth splits open and he can't keep his emotions down anymore, studies the way Raven's breath stutters at the outpour. "Sorry." He presses his lips tight but the grin brakes right back out.

A frown flickers across Raven's face and she steps back. "Garfield, I do feel strongly for you. But, we cannot continue this. I meant what I said the other day, I am a distraction. You deserve a chance to find someone else who-"

"I don't want to find anybody else." He finds her fallen hand, holds it between his own because he wants to be sure she's getting an exact read on how he feels. No uncertain terms.

"I know you feel that way now."

"Now? Raven, I- I- I- you are the only person I want to be with. I don't want to find anyone else I just want to be with you." 

"This isn't real, Garfield!" The whole room shakes, or maybe it's just him. Raven doesn't raise her voice, she doesn't lose her cool, not like this. When her jaw trembles so does everything else.

"My demonic heritage it- I am meant to be enticing to mortals. It isn't your fault, I should have never taken advantage of you, of your feelings, I am so sorry."

"Jesus Christ Rae, that's fucking crazy. You're not taking advantage of me. I- I love you."

As far as declarations go, it's a pretty poor one. It doesn't feel the way he thought it would, Gar isn't Romeo on the balcony. It doesn’t break out of him because he just couldn’t bear to keep the words in anymore. It just feels cheap. And desperate. Like wasted breath. This love confession could have been an email. 

"I know you do. But those feelings will fade in time, I promise."

"I don't want them to! I just want to be with you- whatever that means, whatever way you'll have me I-"

"Stop! Can you not see that I'm hurting you? I can see the way my powers wear on you. You shouldn't have police your own mind for my sake. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice the kind of life you want to live for me. You aren't happy. I-I can't make you happy. We aren't… right, Garfield."

"Don't say that. Don't. I- look I don't care about your powers, or what I have to do. It's worth it, you are worth it."

"Don't you see? That is the problem. You are blinded by your feelings for me, it's impossible for you to be objective. I - I won't be the reason that you destroy your life and your mind, I cannot. I cannot do that to you."

"Raven, your powers didn't make me fucked in the head, I was already like this." There's a fun trick Gar knows where if you say something really fucked up, but do it with a smile, like it's a joke, people will let it just roll by.

"I've been making it worse."

It's not a very good trick.

"Dude, you're acting like a little emotional regulation is the end of the world, it's not. I sort of have a lot of practice with psychics it's not a big deal."

"It is a 'big deal'. Just because it is familiar doesn't mean it's right, Gar. I won't do what Steve did to you, I-."

"You're nothing like Mento, Raven that's ridiculous-"

"It is not. I am. And I have been selfish and cruel, and I won't do it anymore, I can't and I won't."

"So that's it? You just get to decide that this- that it's not even worth trying, and that's it? I don't get a say."

"I'm sorry." He's sure she fucking is. Raven feels guilty about mosquitoes getting squashed on the other side of the world. "I never meant for- I can help you. If you'd like. Your feelings for me, I could… ease them."

It’s like all the heat is sucked out of the room. Gar would be lying if he said he’s never been afraid of her before, but not for a long time. He trusts her not to fuck with his head. Or he did. Raven wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.

”Not without your permission. Gar, I would never-“

”Wouldn’t you?” He doesn’t mean that. He also doesn’t take it back.

“I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even suggested-“

”You think?”

“I’m sorry.” 

Mento always used to say apologies were meaningless.

”Okay.”

"Garfield, I understand- you have every right to be angry with me. But I want you to know that you- your friendship has meant everything to me. I know I don't deserve it but I hope that one day I can earn your forgiveness."

Sure, whatever.

If he keeps looking at her he thinks he's going to throw up, or combust into ten thousand termites. "I think um- I’d like to be alone right now. If you don’t mind.”

When Gar peels his eyes open he’s alone again