Life in the League had become much easier once she had decided to embrace a life without morals. In her lessons, she progressed in leaps and bounds, no longer concerned about injuring her tutors. There had never been any cause for concern anyway, as the Assassins were never seriously injured; they were all too advanced for her current skill level, especially since she had been diligently keeping to the no magic rule.
She felt freer than ever before, she just had to squash any feelings of empathy that rose to the surface every now and then. Her severe restrictions on using magic meant that her link to Trigon was almost non-existent during most of the day, and without that link, annoying feelings of guilt and shame had begun making themselves known again.
Raven desperately tried to ignore them. After all; what had she to be ashamed of? She had wanted to punish those parents, so she had punished them; she had felt like kissing Damian, so she had kissed him. She was a demon, a creature of passion and desire, and she would do whatever she pleased.
It had been fun over the past few weeks; no one quite knew how to handle her.
Lady Shiva, Raven could sense, was becoming more and more uneasy in her presence. She had to hand it to the Assassin though; she had not changed her teaching style or outward attitude – or lack thereof – towards Raven at all.
Talia had begun glaring at her for some reason. It was amusing; maybe she hated the fact that Raven was now enjoying her training – Talia always seemed the type to believe that life was to be worked through and not enjoyed – or she could be resentful of Raven's new found entertainment in her son.
Ah Damian.
Now that was a game that was fun to play. He was still her teacher, and in classes she would try her best to kill him – the bastard was just so damned annoying and cocky most of the time – but sometimes Raven found herself in his arms, pressing him against the wall or being pressed against a wall herself, their lips locked and their hands wandering.
The constant changes of her feelings towards him were slightly alarming, even to herself.
If she was confused about how she felt, then he must be too, though you wouldn't tell by looking at him; he seemed to take her volatile behaviour all in hand. Sometimes, it was even him that surprised her.
Only the day before, she had actually managed to hit him during a bout – he had redirected her weapon so that it had only glanced his thigh, but it was still contact – and he had made out with her so strongly that she had thought they would take their – whatever-it-was – further than mere kissing and groping. To her slight disappointment though he had pulled away and resumed their duelling session.
She wondered what was going to happen today.
Raven stood in the training room, stretching her muscles before Damien arrived. It was the first time that she had been here earlier than her teacher, but he had responsibilities other than her. At least, in his mind he did. She would just have to show him that doing what you wanted when you wanted was a much better way of living.
The sound of the door opening made her look up. But it wasn't Damian striding towards her.
It was Talia.
"Sorry," smirked Raven. "You're not the al Ghul I want to see right now. I mean, you're pretty and all, but I just don't swing that way."
Unsurprisingly, the Assassin didn't react.
"You might think yourself special, girl. But I have met many spoilt brats like you in my time. You are in no way worthy of being an al Ghul, no matter what my father thinks."
Nonchalantly, Raven continued stretching.
"I don't know what you mean."
Talia strode to one of the weapons racks and took her time contemplating the array before choosing two daggers. Expertly, she began twirling them around her hands. So effortless. So deadly.
Raven knew Talia, she had always sensed her hunger for power and understood that she was more than willing to disobey her father's orders to not harm Raven if she thought the benefits great enough.
Still affecting nonchalance, Raven opened herself up to her father's power, careful not to let her appearance warp in any way. Sweet, cruel and corrupt it washed over her, fully dispelling that annoying voice of morality at the back of her head.
"My son is becoming...distracted in his training and, far from discouraging this ridiculous behaviour, my father is actually urging him to get closer to you."
A lead weight, cold and unyielding, slammed into Raven's chest at the words; Ra's al Ghul was pushing them closer together? What did that mean? Damian would kill himself if ordered by the Old Man Assassin, what if Damian was only with her because he was ordered to? What if it was all just a scheme to manipulate her?
Raven gave herself a silent mental shake. Who cared what Damian's motives were? All that mattered was that she was getting what she wanted from him. And what she wanted was not some sappy, human, emotional connection.
Even so, a lump had formed in her throat.
"Impressive; I had no idea humans were so comfortable playing on each other's emotions in such a way."
Raven glared at the opposite wall as if it had wronged her; her father was support to be on her side! She was so consumed with bitter thoughts that she almost missed Talia's next words.
"If you break my son's heart, I will break you."
Raven laughed loudly; grasping desperately at the humour and trying to force the crushing self-doubt to the back of her mind.
Turning to Talia, she scoffed, "And what would you do to break me, hum? Kill me? Make me walk around naked and do chores?
"You know what I think?"
Raven moved forwards, allowing her demonic appearance to reveal itself more with every step, until she was staring up at Talia with two sets of glowing red eyes and her demonic aura corroding the air.
Talia couldn't completely hide her revulsion from Raven's senses.
"I think you resent the idea of someone else having the attention of your puppet. Damian believes it, you know?" Raven smiled darkly up at the older woman, her sharp teeth peeking out below her upper lip. "He believes you don't love him. But he's wrong; you do, in your own twisted way. That's why I bother you so much. That's why you're betraying your father's orders and telling me about his little match-making scheme."
Talia's face might have been carved from stone for all the expression it showed, yet Raven could feel her shock, her anger, and her fear.
Chuckling dryly, Raven stepped back, severing her connection to her home realm and regaining her human face.
"Don't worry Talia; I am only here to complete my training because that is what my father wants. Damian's a bit of fun, but I can't be dealing with the infatuation of an angsty, hormonal human."
xxx
She had meant it; she really had.
But, when Damian appeared, his eyes flashing angrily and his cold, deadly fury washing over her. It was all Raven could do to stop herself from dragging him to another dimension and having her way with him.
Talia smiled sweetly at her son, or as sweetly as she could manage, and handed him the daggers as she made her way out of the room.
"What did she do?" he growled to Raven as soon as the door had closed firmly behind his mother.
She couldn't help it; it was too irresistible. "I don't know what you're talking about."
In the blink of an eye, her arms were in an agonising grip. She gritted her teeth as he leaned into her face.
"What," he repeated calmly, while her arms went numb. "Did she do?"
His voice was as ice cold as his actions. Raven felt her knees go weak.
"She tried to warn me off you," she whispered. He was barely a centimetre from her face, but she dared not kiss him. She desperately hoped he would take the initiative. "I told her to go fuck herself."
A growl of frustration had Raven's ears ringing. Blinking, she realised Damian had released his hold on her. Rubbing sensation back into her arms, she watched as Damian paced up and down the room a couple of times before deciding to take his anger out on the Mu ren Zhuang standing in the corner. He attacked it vehemently with fast, furious strikes.
It was truly a sight to behold. Damian had such complete command of every muscle of his body that he moved with lightning speed and deadly efficiency. In no time at all, the wooden training apparatus was lying in splinters at his feet. His anger not yet sated, despite his torn and bloodied hands, Damian ripped a katana from the wall and tuned to Raven.
"Summon those creatures." he commanded. "Do it!" he yelled when she just stood, staring at him.
Bemused, she tapped into her magic and opened a portal to her father's realm.
At once – because she had willed it so – four demons poured out of the opening and went flying at Damian.
It barely took him any effort to slaughter them, and Raven called for more to come through.
There was definitely something wrong with him; he was being reckless and if Raven hadn't been controlling the flow of creatures entering this realm, he would have been dead by now. Or at least there was a chance he would. It was almost as though the limits that applied to other humans did not apply to Damian and his family.
Never the less, after what must have been four hours, he was beginning to tire. She could tell that his movements were becoming more sluggish and his cuts became shallower.
One of the demons – a flying lizard like monstrosity – saw this too and took the opportunity to use its speed. It lost its head, but only after biting Damian in the side with razor sharp teeth.
"Enough," said Raven, closing the gate.
"Why did you do that daughter?" her father's voice rang through her head. "If the boy wants to kill himself, let him. That was entertaining."
Grumpily, she shut Trigon out.
His question had been a good one though; why had she stopped him before he got himself killed?
"Is that the best your father has to offer?" panted Damian, gesturing at the quickly dissolving lumps of flesh on the ground. "I am unimpressed."
"Do you seriously think I would have allowed you to fight more than low-level thugs? I appreciate your body best when it is in-tact, thank you."
Sniffing, Damian used a cloth to clean his blade before placing back on the rack. The blood of hundreds of demons had stained his black outfit to an even darker shade, but Raven knew that at least some of it belonged to the Assassin.
"Come here, idiot, and let me heal you." She shouldn't be healing him; she should be smacking him. What a stupid thing to do; he was only one human!
"Don't bother," he muttered. "I can go to the Lazarus Pit."
"No!" Raven's shout caught even her off guard.
He stared at her. His eyes really were an incredible green.
"Why waste your time?" she mumbled, offering her hand.
For a moment, she thought he would ignore her. But thankfully he accepted her offer and slipped his sweaty, bloody hand into hers.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated. Nothing happened.
"Azarath metrion zinthos." She intoned. Again, nothing.
Raven blinked. What was going on? She had never had trouble with the pathetic magic of the monks of Azarath before; it was child's play compared to the raw power of her father's magic, so why...?
Oh.
She was acting as a full demon right now, her father's evil corrupting every cell in her body. It was probably impossible to use the pure magic of those sanctimonious monks while in this state.
"What's wrong?" asked Damian.
"Shut up." She snapped; her mind still directed inwards.
"Fine, I can just go to the Pit to heal."
"No, you can't!"
Raven was shocked to find herself desperately clutching onto Damian's arm.
"You can't. If you do, he'll have you."
There was a question in his expression as he stared down at her, and she knew that she had to explain.
"The Lazarus Pit was created by my father. It's a complicated process where thousands of damned souls are concentrated into a liquid." She didn't know the full details as that magic was still beyond her at the present time; her father had had thousands of years to master his own powers and she was still just a child. "Whenever you use it to evade death," that wound certainly would be fatal if he didn't get it healed by magical means. "Your soul is transported to my father's realm and he can do what he wants with it for years."
Damian frowned slightly. "But you rise from the Pit almost instantly and no one has ever mentioned being tortured by a horde of demons when they come back." He said, though he didn't seem to disbelieve her.
"Time works differently there," Raven waved her hand dismissively. "And soul memory quickly fades once reunited with its body; physical flesh dismisses the astral experiences. It would probably only take five minutes for the person to forget.
"The point is," she continued, wearily. "If, in that time in my father's dimension, your soul loses hope and gives into despair, you will never rise from the Pit; you will belong completely and forever to Trigon."
There was silence. An unbearable silence.
Raven hoped that Damian took her advice and didn't use the Lazarus Pit. After living there for years, Raven knew that it was better for mortals to just cease existing than to continue in her father's dimension. Even those special few he elevated to a position of power were miserable.
And then again, the question came to Raven's mind...
"Why do you care?"
It took her a second to realise that Damian had actually vocalised the question that had jumped into her head. He was staring at her with a slightly suspicious squint to his eyes.
Raven shrugged dismissively. "I don't. Not particularly."
"You've never lied before, it's one of the things I respect most about you."
He respected her? Funny, she had never really thought he held her in high esteem. The knowledge that he did made her feel lighter somehow.
But he was right; Raven was many things, but dishonest was not one of them.
"I don't know," she mumbled, then louder. "I really don't know. I shouldn't. In case you hadn't noticed, I've decided to embrace my inner-demon and throw away the blundering human aspect of my life. I'm not supposed to feel anything for anybody.
"But I do, for you." Raven shrugged in defeat and stared at the ground; she couldn't bear to look him in the eye. "I don't know what it is, and it's confusing. But..."
"Raven," his voice was quiet.
"This is your fault," she growled, her anger allowing her skin to redden as she looked up to glare at him.
Suddenly her anger was replaced with fear; Damien was pale, too pale. He was swaying slightly and couldn't focus his gaze. He had lost too much blood.
"Raven," he murmured again before sinking to the ground.
Why had she decided to talk about her feelings? She had known that he needed urgent help, but had decided that her teenage drama was more important!
Now what?
He was dying and she couldn't heal him.
"Fuck!" she screamed.
Fucking monks. Fucking Azarath. Fucking empathy.
There was only one thing to do. She didn't want to; it was no fun being conscientious. Her father will be furious, and it will be extremely painful. But there was no other option if Damian's soul was to remain in-tact.
Practically sobbing with fear, Raven sought out the corner of her mind where she had buried all of her empathy and compassion, and released it.
Agony. Indescribable pain. Why had she done it? They had just been trying to save their baby's soul and now they would spend eternity suffering; they had been good people and she had condemned them. And what about everyone in that city? She had slaughtered them, there must have been a million people there, men, women and children. And Damian...
Damian!
Desperately trying to put her self-loathing aside, Raven called on the power that the monks had shown her.
A glow surrounded her hands where she held Damian.
This was all her fault.
Slowly, agonisingly slowly, his breathing began to strengthen.
She had killed and hurt so many people.
His skin regained a healthier pallor.
She was a monster, a demon, something filthy and disgusting.
Out of danger and barely conscious, Raven cradled Damian's head in her lap, stroking his hair as her grief-filled tears started falling onto his upturned face.
She didn't deserve to live.
xxx
"Raven," Damian called, trying to make her hear him over her gut-wrenching wails. "Raven, it's all right; you did it, I'm fine."
He was trying to hide it but he was beginning to panic; what was wrong with her? Had she injured herself? Had something gone wrong? Something terrible must have happened or she wouldn't be in such distress. And the worst thing was, there was nothing he could do. Nothing except hold her tightly to him and try to calm her down with soothing words.
Finally, after what felt like agonising years, her sobbing subsided to a level where he could make himself heard.
"Raven," he murmured as he stroked her hair. "What's wrong?"
"I'm a monster," the words were so horse and quiet that he barely heard them. "I've hurt so many people and done terrible things. I don't deserve to live."
Damian froze. It was as if a dagger made of ice had slid between his ribs and pierced his heart.
"Don't say that," he growled, almost angrily. "Never say that. Of course, you deserve to live. Out of all the people in the wretched world, you need to live. I...I need you to live."
Why had he said that? He shouldn't have said it. He shouldn't have felt it. Was his mother right? Was he becoming weak? But his grandfather encouraged his actions with Raven, so maybe he was supposed to be feeling things.
He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he almost missed Raven's next words.
"Why did I ever listen to you?"
She pulled away slightly and stared up at him. Her eyes were cold.
"You think you're better than the rest of the human race," she said. "You, and your grandfather and the rest of the League. But you're wrong; you're the worst of them. You have no remorse, no compassion, no love.
"You're like him; vile and putrid and rotting. And I can't believe I fell for his manipulation again."
Her words seemed all the more terrible for the emotionless tone in which they were spoken.
For the first time in his life, Damian didn't know what to do. He just stared dumbly at Raven as she disentangled herself from his arms and stood up.
"Goodbye, Damian al Ghul," she said, summoning one of her beautiful pearly portals. "I..." she seemed as though she wanted to say more, but couldn't get the words out. So she closed her mouth, turned away and disappeared through the vortex.
Leaving Damian alone, soaked in blood.
xxx
A.N.
Poor Raven's guilt-ridden. Poor Damian doesn't understand what he did wrong. ☹
I'm not sure about the very last section. I decided last week to change the ending to this chapter so it hasn't had as many reads and re-writes as the rest of the story. Please let me know what you think.
As usual, please vote/comment.
I probably won't publish a chapter next week as I have to re-write a large chunk of it to fit with the new ending to this chapter and want to make sure it's up to standard before publishing!
So, have a good couple of weeks,
LP
xxx