Work Text:
“I did not sense you approaching, Damian Wayne.” The women, and it was a woman, tall, shorter than me, but not by much, emerged from the shadows before me. And then it was as if she’d always been there. I’d just somehow failed to clock her.
The familiar quickening of my heart, the rush of feeling so blinding I nearly blacked out, emotions I thought long dead, told me better than her next words who she was.
“Few can surprise an empath.”
Raven, cloaked in darkness, grinned, amused my the mental image. It was a thing of darkness, cool and mysterious.
The world was darkness now, monotonous and unending. Save for a few pin Reks, where humanity and life congregated. In all other ares, ash covered the sky, the sun, stars and the moon a distant dream. Day was distinguishable from night only by an orange hue, reminiscent of sunlight on closed eyelids before wakefulness. Humanity lived in a nightmare now.
My nightmare came to life when reports of Raven’s turning began circulating. I didn’t think it was possible. The world was a mess, communication unreliable. I hadn't expected to hear from her via mundane means. Even in this anarchy, Raven sent word, found time to portal to me, sneaking a few hours sleep, holding her warm in his arms, there’d been nothing more comforting. And then we’d awake, Raven and I rejoined the fight, lived were at stake, our world.
Raven was out of the picture, everyone said. So few of us left of humanity. Turn about was fair play, but I didn’t plan to go down without a fight. Nor did the remaining survivors. By the time we got news of Grayson's death and Gordon’s ascending to the throne, my priorities had shifted.
Out of the picture! Out of the picture - how? Could Raven be turned? I’d thought normal germs or virus couldn’t affect her. I remember the time she got beat by a rabbit raccoon before she could subdue to cure. Raven was human. There was no doubt about it. That was scans. Blood tests. But… Raven was also Magic. When we discuss being turned, always a possibility in the world, we live in, raven seem to believe she may have a natural immunity as her father's heritage may give her an immunity. After the Demi goddess, Diana was turned, Damien wasn't so sure.
Damian stood his ground. I drank in her appearance. Anticipation thrumming through him despite the terrible circumstances that necessitated this. He had to know. Put a vampire, be turned back. Drinking Harley Quinn’s destroy Grayson, was it only destruction or continued existence as a blood drinker?
How much of Ravan remain in this creature before him? After the pain and wondering what happened to his lover, it felt like to be without his beloved. Damien was willing to accept anything. He left Gotham and became a Vampire Hunter.
Finding Raven had taken considerable effort. Damian had felt the need to do something, when he could no longer sit in extravagant splendour within a memory-haunted mansion - Gordon turned and ended Grayson, Todd, Drake all lost, he went out to hunt.
Damien had a rare immunity to vampire mind control. He had discovered this when assaulted during the first wave of vampire conquest. That along with his determination and equipment, Damian set off in search for Raven. His equipment was a custom-made suit was both second skin and body armour, its dark reinforced fabric moulded to his muscled form, sheathing his biceps, shoulders, torso, and legs. It provided as much protection as any medieval knight’s suit of armour, with the flexibility and fleetness, that any assassin would envy. His gauntlets were flexible yet impervious to heat, cold, abrasion, impact. His belt contained dozens of weapons and powders useful to any of the League of Shadows and devices developed by the greatest minds at Wayne Enterprises worthy of any vampire hunter. His mask, the fearsome cowl with pointed ears, that was his heritage from his father and his black cape swirled around him like the trailing shadow of a demon that he was now the Head of.
For the past half year, Damien traveled to the few human settlements, protected by natural sunlight during the day and at night, using artificial UV rays and patrol, they kept the vampires at bay. So Damian traveled, looking for news. Searching for Raven. Hoping for a cure, if the worst had come to pass.
“” he said, fighting to keep the new huskiness from his voice. She couldn’t know how much he’d enjoy being in her presence. She distracted him so much and that disturbed him.
In moments, he’d finally look into her eyes again. They’d always been so expressive, as if telegraphing what was in her heart. Raven may be an empath, but she wasn’t the best liar, most of the time. And with him, as he with her, they were brutally honest. The last time they’d been together, parting at dawn, he’d seen love and anguish in Raven’s gaze. What would he see now?
Not a muscle moved, but in his mind Damian braced for what was to come. Him mind incased with the technique, Raval had taught him buckled. The shield cracked, spiderwebs like thin tendril spread across it, in a letting some of his doubts escape. Had Raven hidden from him because she was afraid for him. Was she scared that she would be compelled to turn him like Grayson had Barbara. Or did she stay away from Damien because she no longer gave him any thought?
Damien has known the instant, Raven felt him and recognised him. And he hoped it was not wishful thinking that put the look of shock and longing in her eyes. For one blinding moment, he thought he felt Raven grab hold of him with her power, as if to do anything else would be to allow him to disappear.
Damien stared back, matching her look for one of his own. And there they stood, saying nothing, appraising each other, waiting for the other to show weakness.
There you are Beloved, you have been found.