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Chapter 7: Six

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(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

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Garfield threw a punch, grunting as his fist connected with the bag. Despite his wrapped knuckles, the hit still stung. But he didn’t stop; he kept punching it. Sweat poured from his skin, dripping into his eyes and splattering in the air as he battered at the chained up sack.

Stupid Raven.

The very thought of the empath brought a growl rumbling in his throat. Thoughts of Raven and babies and Nightwing swirled in his mind, creating a whirlpool of hurt and anger that made everything look red. He punched and kicked, all else a blur around him.

It wasn’t fair. Garfield knew he was being stupid and selfish, but he couldn’t help it. Knowing that Raven didn’t even tell him first about his own child made him feel like second rate; like he wasn’t important. And thoughts like that, hurt like hell.

He supposed he had an inkling that this was the case, when she’d offhandedly mentioned Nightwing faxing her medical records for her. Of course, he stupidly thought she’d not mentioned the baby part, given how reluctant she’d been to tell anyone, himself included. Of course he was wrong and of course Raven had told the pretty boy detective. Garfield snarled, landing a punch that sent the punching bag flying up towards the ceiling.

“I’m, uh, guessing now is a bad time?”

Gar froze, his face drawn in anger. “Not unless you want me to punch you, then yeah, it’s a great time!”

There was a light chuckle, but Garfield could hear the tight discomfort ringing in his ears. He turned to eye the detective, his brows raising when he noticed the lack of a mask.

Nightwing rarely went without his mask. Sure, now that they were older, he’d confided his identity to the team as a whole, but there were a lot of extraneous factors that typically kept the mask firmly fixed on Nightwing’s face. Garfield figured the only person in the tower that saw the young detective without his mask the most, would be Starfire. He himself almost never saw Nightwing bare-faced, so seeing it now was jarring.

Garfield blew out a breath. “What do you want, Dick?”

Nightwing’s thin smile melted into a frown. His impossibly blue eyes flashed with some unknown emotions, and Nightwing sighed. “Can we…talk?”

At this, Garfield snarled. “No. I don’t want to talk.” He wanted nothing of the sort. Talking led to rationality, something Garfield was tired of upholding. He just wanted to beat the shit out of the punching bag, scream, and fling himself into the great expanse of the sky, beating his wings until they fell away from his body.

“Gar…”

“No,” Gar said. “I don’t wanna talk to you, I don’t wanna hear you, and I don’t want to see you!” The iron-hot anger sparked hotter in his veins, making his body burn. His vision darkened, and Garfield let out an animalistic snarl. Without so much as a thought, he whirled onto the punching back, slamming a punch into it. The hit made the back ricochet backwards and swing violently about. There was a distinctive ‘snap’ and Gar looked up just in time to see the chain as it nailed him in the face.

“Shit! You okay, Gar?”

Garfield blinked. Despite being still, the room seemed to spin. He squinted upwards, catching sight of the shadow hovering over him. Oh. Nightwing. Garfield attempted to sit up, his pounding head eliciting a groan. “Ow.”

A pair of hands clasped his shoulders, gently pulling him upright. Nightwing’s concerned expression came into view; his brows furrowed and his lips pulled into a taught frown. “Do you want me to get Raven?”

“No!”

His voice was squeaky, making him cringe. Gar raised a hand to his temple and breathed a sigh. “I-I’m fine, Dick, really. I just need to sit a minute.”

Nightwing searched his face a moment before relenting with a nod. He settled onto the floor beside him, his quiet companionship immediately sparking guilt deep within Garfield’s gut. Gar bit back another sigh and dropped his head. “I’m sorry.” The words sprung spontaneously from his lips, as though his dazed self had lost its filter.

“For what?”

Garfield shrugged. “For being an idiot.”

At this, Nightwing chuckled. “You’re not an idiot, Gar. Though, talking might’ve helped you avoid getting hit in the head.”

The jibe, though well intentioned, did nothing more than make Garfield droop even lower. He stared at the floor, his muddled mind amuck with every fragmented emotion that ragged on his heart. “When did she tell you?” he asked suddenly.

Nightwing tilted his head. “When did who tell me what?”

Garfield lifted his head and shot the detective a glare. It was as though the look served as some sort of spark, for immediately, realization spread onto Nightwing’s features. “Oh,” he said. “You mean Raven.”

“No shit, dude.”

Nightwing frowned, but otherwise ignored the statement. Instead, he furrowed his brows and thought a moment. “Hm, well…probably a few weeks ago.” His expression softened as he met Gar’s gaze. “Is that what this is all about?”

Garfield dropped his head into his hands. Of course Nightwing would have known that long. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised; the signs were all there. Still, Garfield supposed there was some small part of him that had believed that this was just something between the two of them.

Oh, how wrong had he been.

“I know, it’s stupid,” he mumbled. A hand draped onto his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Garfield peeked upwards, catching Nightwing’s gentle expression.

“No, Gar, it’s not,” he said. “There’s nothing stupid about how you feel.” He blushed, then, a sight that had Garfield gawking. Nightwing dropped his hand, sighing. “I know I’m not the most touchy-feely guy out there, but over the years, I’ve learned a thing or two. Like, it’s okay to feel a certain way about something. It’s okay to be mad about this.”

If anyone had told Garfield that Nightwing was going to say such a thing, he’d have laughed in their face. This was the sort of thing he usually got scolded for, if anything. So he couldn’t help but gape at the former Batman protege.

“But you also have to think about how Raven feels, too,” Nightwing said. And there it was; the impending lecture Gar was originally expecting. He clamped his jaw shut and suppressed a sigh.

“I mean, she was pretty distraught when she told me, anyway. I don’t think she really expected to tell me. Or anyone.”

Garfield blinked. “What do you mean?”

Nightwing shrugged. “I mean that I think this whole ordeal has probably been just as hard on Raven, and that she didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. She was just…scared.”

Now he really felt like shit. Gar stared at the floor, wishing his misery would open a hole and swallow him up. “Wow, I really am an idiot.”

Nightwing chuckled lightly. “No, Gar, you’re just human.” He rose to his feet then, offering Garfield a hand. “Think you can stand?”

His words bounced through Garfield’s mind, and he stared at Nightwing’s hand for a moment as he absorbed their conversation. I’m only human. It was a statement Gar rarely thought of in regards to himself, for good reason. Yet here, with Nightwing, with Dick, he began to see the truth to the words. A smile flickered across his lips, and he reached for Nightwing’s hand.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said. “Thanks, Dick.”

Nightwing smiled. “Anytime.”

~#~#~#~

 

His back hurt like hell.

Getting charred to a crisp was never pleasant, but thanks to Gar’s bull-headedness, he was now stuck with a series of very painful burns branding his back from the shoulders down to his tailbone. He winced as he looked at his backside in the mirror; for once, his back wasn’t green, and he didn’t really care for it.

Being green was better than being…branded.

Garfield eyed the ointment Cyborg had given him, and sighed. He realized far too late that working out with a charred back was a terrible idea; not only were his muscles sore from whacking the punching bag, but now his burns were aggravated and inflamed. His forehead looked worse for wear too; a big knot rested right at his hairline, complete with a purplish bruise.

He looked quite the mess.

After a moment’s deliberation, he snatched the ointment and shuffled out of the bathroom. Sure, he could try to apply it himself, but his back was so sore he could hardly walk normally, let alone reach around and rub ointment on his burns. It would be easier to guilt someone into doing it for him.

“Gar?”

Raven’s soft voice rang in his ears, and Garfield felt his heart thud in his chest. He hadn’t spoken to her since their argument a few days ago; after his talk with Nightwing, he’d wanted to apologize, he just didn’t know how. Garfield gulped and turned, managing a loose smile. “Oh, hey, Rae! What’s uh, what’s up?”

Amethyst eyes shone beneath her hood, a vulnerability shining there. She wavered in place, and Gar got the sense she wanted to speak. He waited, the pause expansive between them. There were so many things he wanted to say, but how to even begin?

“How’s your back?” she asked quietly. Garfield blinked. Oh.

“Uh, it’s okay. A bit sore, honestly.”

Raven hummed. The silence filled the space between them again; a thick barrier, full of unspoken words and unfulfilled wishes. He tried to come up with words, but it was as though his tongue was glued to the top of his mouth. Instead, he stared helplessly at her, his heart thrumming in his throat and his mind awhirl with a thousands fleeting thoughts.

“I’m…I don’t…” Raven’s words were tumbled and confused. Her usually stoic demeanor was shattered, replaced with this fidgety, nervous attitude. She seemed…lost. As lost as he felt.

“Why are you mad at me?”

The words were but a whisper; Gar almost thought he’d imagined them. But the look in Raven’s eyes betrayed the reality of what was spoken, and Garfield was left floundering. “I…” The truth was that he wasn’t mad; not anymore. His anger was processed and wrung out, leaving behind a pool of understanding and regret. “I’m not.”

Raven blinked at him, confusion twisting onto her features.

“I mean, I was. But, it was stupid, and selfish.” Garfield breathed a sigh, rubbing his neck. “I’m sorry, Rae. I was being a jackass.”

“Why? What did I do?” The question echoed in the hallway, bouncing off the walls with with a hint of panic. Garfield winced.

“I guess…” What was he supposed to say? That he was a selfish twat that wanted the news for himself? In retrospect, he felt like a petty jackass. Who Raven told when wasn’t nearly as important as her and the baby’s health; he realized that now. In part, his talk with Nightwing had certainly helped. At the very least, their conversation had sped things up, anyway. He was still angry at himself, though; Garfield knew he had reacted poorly. He took a breath, and another. “I guess I was just…upset that you didn’t tell me first. I know it’s dumb, but this is my kid, too, and I guess I wanted this to be something special; something just between us.”

He was amazed at how much…lighter he felt, now. It was as though his reproach and anger and guilt were physically weighing him down, and by speaking about it, he’d somehow tossed those weights aside. Garfield risked a glance at Raven. Her expression was unreadable, and Garfield felt a note of panic swell within him. He averted his gaze and sighed. “Anyway, it was stupid. And I’m sorry.” The silence pervaded between them, somehow denser than before. Gar’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a huff. “I’m just gonna go see if Kory will help me with this ointment, now.” He turned away then, letting the conversation sit where it lay.

With each step, Raven said nothing, and Garfield felt his heart sink lower and lower. He apologized; wasn’t that supposed to fix this?

What more could he say?

~#~#~#~

 

“Please, sit still,” Starfire cooed, “I am almost done administering the ointment.” She dabbed more of the oily stuff onto his back as she spoke, making him shiver. He was sprawled on the couch in the common room, trying to lie as still as possible so as to not aggravate the Tamaranean warrior.

It turned out that it was pretty easy to get Starfire to lend a helping hand; all it took was a little bit of pouting and looking utterly pathetic. Which, admittedly, wasn’t hard to do, considering that was about how he felt.

In fact, she’d taken it upon herself to help him every day for the past week. Which, at first was awesome, but now Gar just felt like a helpless pup under her care. It was slightly embarrassing.

Garfield sighed. What a mess he’d stumbled into. A small part of him wished he could go back in time, before everything became all muddled and complicated, but then, like magic, the memory of himself sitting in the bathroom listening to Raven tell him she was pregnant played in his mind. His heart squeezed and he huffed.

He’d wanted this for so long; no matter how fucked up everything was, he couldn’t find it in himself to truly regret it.

A sharp pain spiked in his shoulder, and Garfield hissed.

“Sorry,” Starfire said, her tone perfectly apologetic, “I must rub the ointment in, for it to have the fullest of effects.”

Garfield grit his teeth and managed a smile. “No worries,” he spat out. It didn’t hurt that bad. Not really. It wasn’t Starfire’s fault that she didn’t seem to know her own strength at times; besides, she was right to rub the ointment in. Even if she was being rather…aggressive. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to focus on anything and everything aside from Starfire and her administrations. The ever familiar scent of lilacs drifted into his nose, and Garfield’s eyes flew open.

Raven.

He hadn’t seen her since their conversation in the hallway. Truth be told, Gar wasn’t exactly sure who was avoiding who. He’d be the first to admit that he spent most of his time hiding out in his room, afraid to face Raven after his attempted apology. But it almost seemed like she was avoiding him too. Until now, anyway.

“What are you doing?” Her soft voice drifted lazily through the common room, making goosebumps spread across his skin. Garfield gulped, meeting her gaze.

“Oh, hey, Rae.”

“I am applying this ointment to Garfield’s back,” Starfire chirped, ignoring Gar’s stammering. Her warm palms dug into his back, rubbing in the ointment to a level of perfection that made Gar’s back feel almost numb. He managed a sheepish grin, before a wince took over his features.

Footsteps echoed in his ears, and Garfield watched as Raven approached. Her cloak rustled as she moved, a noise that Gar found to be mystifying. He wasn’t sure what it was about the soft sound that allured him; it was gentle and calm, and brought peaceful thoughts to the forefront of his mind.

“Here, Kory, let me,” Raven said, her voice smooth. Garfield whipped his head around so fast, he nearly gave himself whiplash. He watched, open-mouthed, as Raven plucked the canister from Starfire’s hands. The Tamaranean appeared uncertain, and she glanced between them.

“Are you certain, Raven? I am nearly finished…”

Raven nodded. “It’s fine. I hear you have a date tonight, anyway.”

At this, Starfire beamed. She eagerly began chattering about where Nightwing was presumably taking her, a conversation that made Garfield roll his eyes and flop back onto the couch. He loved Starfire and Nightwing, really, but he didn’t need the play-by-play of their romantic getaways. His ears nearly perked as he heard Raven hum along, Starfire’s chatter growing distant as she drifted away.

Starfire’s spicy scent diminished, only the residues remaining. It was just Raven and him, and the thought sent Garfield’s heart into a tizzy.

The following silence was deafening. The only sounds were the gentle rustle of Raven’s cloak, and the gloopy noises as she scooped up the ointment. Hell, Gar could even hear his own blood roaring in his ears, pounding away to the beat of his own uncertainty.

“You should have let me heal this,” Raven murmured. Garfield stiffened, his face growing hot with embarrassment.

“Yeah,” he said, “I guess I should have.”

There was a beat, and then Garfield could feel the cool touch of Raven’s healing powers. Tension he wasn’t aware of holding released itself from his muscles, and he felt a bit like a blob of jelly. “Thanks,” he breathed.

“Of course.”

Garfield felt himself drift into a calm, trance-like state. Eyes half closed and breathing slow and steady, it was almost like he was asleep. Yet he was aware of the stillness of the room, and Raven’s hands ghosting over his charred back, her powers slowly erasing the damage wrought onto his body.

It was always like that when she healed him; Raven’s powers had some sort of calming effect on him, and he often felt like a cat perched on someone’s lap, basking in affection and happily dozing.

“I’ve been thinking.”

The sudden shift from the quiet had Garfield blinking. He hummed in response, suddenly wide awake. Raven seemed hesitant, her hands lingering just off his shoulder blade.

“I…I’m not good at these things. I know that.”

“What things?”

He could feel her glare at the back of his head. For reasons he couldn’t begin to articulate, amusement tickled at his lips. He said nothing though, waiting instead for Raven to continue. She let out a breath, her hands skimming across his back once more.

“Talking. Change. Apologizing.”

Garfield forgot how to breathe. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, and his mind was reeling. Apologize? Was…was she…?

“I’m…I’m scared. About this. About all of this.” She sounded breathless, and Garfield could feel the tremors shaking her fingers. “I guess a part of me hoped that if I never spoke about this, it wouldn’t happen. Things would go back to the way they were, before we…you know.”

He could almost feel Raven’s blush; Garfield’s own cheeks warmed a bit at the memory. He chewed his lip, opting to listen.

“I guess that’s why I didn’t tell you right away. And I’m sorry.”

Garfield shifted, turning to meet her gaze. Her amethyst irises were alight with emotion. She bit her lip and looked away, her violet hair slipping from its place behind her ear and obscuring her features. Raven sighed before speaking again. “I realize now that it’s unfair to put myself in danger for the sake of maintaining a useless secret. It’s unfair to you, to our-” She broke off then, her hands curling up in fists.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Garfield pushed himself upright. He placed a hand over hers and caught her gaze, slipping her a smile. “Thank you, Rae,” he said. “And for the record, I forgive you. I know this is scary; hell, I’mscared. Parenthood was out of the realm of possibility for me, until this happened.” He gestured between them, his expression turning sheepish. “I’m sorry again for being an ass…”

Raven smiled back, her dark eyes lighting up a bit at his words. It was a sight that made his insides feel warm and gooey, and he couldn’t help the loopy smile stamping itself across his features. At long last, the chasm between them had become a small ravine, and Garfield felt the sweet taste of relief in the air around them.

“I forgive you too, Gar,” she said. He felt light; like if he were to move, he’d start floating. Raven clasped his shoulder and gently turned him around.

“Now, let me finish healing you. You’ll probably want to be in one piece when we go tell everyone I’m pregnant.”

Garfield blinked, his mouth dropping open. “…what?

Notes:

Here it is!! Sorry for the wait!! And also sorry for inconsistencies, I still don't get this website, lol.

-Kat

Notes:

Hey there! Sorry about any formatting issues, I'm new at ao3 and still trying to figure out how everything works! Thanks for the read. :)

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