EUPHORIA

Peace(Part 3)

As the night deepened, the beeping of the medical equipment slowly faded into the background. Raven’s breathing became steadier, and the color began to return to her cheeks. Damian watched over her, a sense of hope blossoming in his chest. After what felt like an eternity, Dick entered the med bay with a relieved expression.

“She’s stable now, Damian,” Dick said, glancing at Raven’s sleeping form. “We can move her back to your room. It’s better for her to rest there.”

“Are you sure?” Damian asked, concern still etched on his face. “What if she needs more care?”

“She’ll be fine,” Dick reassured him. “Just keep an eye on her through the night. I’ll check in on her tomorrow. She needs comfort more than anything right now.”

Damian nodded, his heart racing with relief and excitement at the prospect of having her close. He carefully helped Raven sit up, gently wrapping an arm around her waist to support her. She leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder as he moved slowly, ensuring she felt safe.

The walk to their shared room felt surreal, each step filled with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. Damian felt her weight against him, and it filled him with warmth and a sense of responsibility. Once they reached the room, he opened the door and stepped inside, feeling a rush of familiarity wash over him.

“Stay here,” he said softly, helping her to sit on the edge of the bed. He quickly went to the bathroom, grabbing a damp washcloth and some antiseptic wipes. As he returned, he could see the remnants of the fight still marring her skin—the dried blood and bruises that marred her otherwise beautiful complexion.

“Here, let me help you,” he said gently, kneeling in front of her. He wet the washcloth and began to wipe away the dried blood, his movements careful and tender. “This might sting a little,” he warned as he dabbed at a particularly nasty cut on her arm.

Raven winced slightly but met his gaze with a small smile. “Thanks for taking care of me, Damian. You always know how to make things better.”

He glanced up at her, his heart swelling at her words. “You mean a lot to me. I don’t want to see you hurt,” he replied, his voice low. He continued to clean her wounds, taking his time to ensure every trace of blood was gone, leaving her skin fresh and clean.

He worked meticulously, starting with her arms, where deep scratches marred her skin. He gently wiped the dried blood from her forearms, then moved to her shoulder, where a larger cut had formed, and finally to her side, where bruises bloomed like dark flowers against her pale skin.

“Just…don’t look at me like that,” she teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood as he focused intently on his task. “You’re making me feel like I’m some kind of damsel in distress.”

Damian couldn’t help but smirk. “Well, you were just attacked. I think it’s acceptable for me to play the knight.”

“Alright, knight,” she said with a laugh, her spirits lifting as he worked. Once he finished, he set the washcloth aside and opened the drawer of the bedside table, pulling out a clean pair of shorts and a tank top. “Let’s get you into something more comfortable.”

With her help, he guided her as she slipped out of her hospital gown, careful not to jostle any of her wounds. She managed to sit up straighter and took the clean tank top from him, putting it on before he handed her the shorts. “I can do this part,” she insisted, her determination shining through.

“Okay, but be careful,” he replied, his concern evident as she slid into the soft, loose-fitting shorts and the tank top, making sure she felt secure and at ease in the clothing.