EUPHORIA

Rescue and Regret

(WARING THIS TOPIC MIGHT MAKE SOME PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE IF THIS IS YOU SKIP TO PART 24)

"Rescue and Regret"

Damian had been away for days, fulfilling an assignment that pulled him back into his life as an assassin. It was difficult to leave Raven, but he knew he had to. She had been getting better, slowly, but she still carried the weight of what had happened to her. She hadn't been as distant as she used to be, but the scars—both physical and emotional—were still there. He couldn't deny that the pull to help the League, to fulfill his role, was still there, though.

For the past few days, Damian had stayed distant, focusing on his mission. He kept his visits brief but regular, making sure Raven was well and attended to. There were days when he didn't hear from her, but he figured she was trying to find herself again. He gave her space, but something didn't sit right in the pit of his stomach. Raven was always cautious around him now. That alone wasn't alarming, but he felt the sudden lack of communication stir unease within him.

He had a mission this time. A warehouse—a trafficking hub with far too many people in need of saving. As he entered, the grim familiarity of the surroundings hit him. But as he made his way through the dimly lit hallways, checking each room for signs of life, his heart sank when he heard the soft, almost inaudible sound of something. It was a whimper.

The room he entered was cold, filled with crates and what appeared to be remnants of a grim operation. And then, he saw her—Raven. She was curled up in a tight ball in the farthest corner, her body trembling, her skin pale. She barely looked like the girl he had left behind. Blood matted her hair, and her clothes were torn, barely clinging to her frame. She had been through so much.

His heart dropped.

"Raven," Damian's voice was soft yet desperate. The harshness of his usual demeanor slipped away. She didn't respond, barely even moved when he said her name.

He took a few steps toward her, cautiously, sensing how fragile she was. She still had the effects of the drugs in her system, her eyes glassy, and she blinked rapidly, as though struggling to stay awake.

"Come on, Raven. It's okay. I'm here to take you home," he said, his voice tight, heart racing as he knelt beside her. He could feel her pulling away even though her body was limp.

"No... don't..." She whispered, the words weak and unsteady. She looked at him with eyes full of fear, as though she didn't recognize him at first.

Damian's face softened, his heart aching at the sight of her. "It's me, Raven. Damian. I won't let them hurt you anymore."

He gently placed his hands on her, but she recoiled, shaking her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. It took some time, but after some coaxing, he managed to guide her into standing position, though her legs wobbled beneath her.

"I've got you," he promised quietly. Slowly, he helped her out of the room, supporting her as best he could, all the while trying to ignore the overwhelming urge to strike down everyone who'd caused her harm. She was in his arms, and all he cared about was getting her out of this hellhole.

Back at his Quarters

Damian carried Raven back to his quarters in the league. He'd prepared a room for her a long time ago—a space where she could heal, a place he knew she'd feel safe. When they arrived, he gently placed her on the bed and took a moment to examine her injuries. His eyes darkened when he saw the deep bruises on her arms and legs, the cuts that looked like they had been inflicted over a prolonged period.

He wasn't going to let her stay here longer than necessary, but he needed her to heal. And she needed her space.

Damian stepped out for a moment, visiting the Tower to gather a few items from her room—clothes she had left behind before she'd been taken. When he returned, he offered her a soft, reassuring smile. "I've got your clothes," he said, laying them out on the bed. "You should take a shower."

Raven shook her head, her voice weak. "I'm fine."

Damian didn't push it, but he knew better. A shower would help her clear her head. When she hesitated, he simply nodded, understanding her reluctance. But after a moment, she gave in, standing up and slowly heading for the bathroom. He watched her carefully, the worry in his eyes not entirely fading.

When she returned, dressed in fresh clothes, there was an awkward tension in the air. Raven glanced at him hesitantly but then turned her gaze to the hoodie on the table. It was the same one he had worn that day when he had saved her before—his Robin hoodie, the one she had come to associate with safety, with him.

She was reaching for it when Damian quickly stepped in, grabbing it first. His tone was gentle as he handed it to her, almost apologetically. "Here," he said softly. "I know it's not much, but I thought... it might help."

Raven took it from him, and for a brief moment, their hands brushed. She didn't flinch this time, her gaze softening as she wrapped the hoodie around her small frame. It wasn't much, but it was a gesture, a reassurance that Damian was here, that he wasn't going to let her go again.

At the Tower

Later, after he had seen her settled, Damian stormed into Titans Tower. He couldn't help the anger building inside him. He had left her alone for one month, and in that time, she had been used, hurt, and broken by people he would have happily destroyed with his bare hands.

"Damian, what are you—?" Dick started, but Damian didn't wait.

"I left her alone for a month!" Damian shouted, his eyes flashing with fury. "And look what happened! She was taken, tortured... used for sex trafficking. And you did nothing to stop it."

Dick tried to explain himself, but Damian didn't want to hear it. His voice was cold, cutting through Dick's words like a blade. "I don't want to hear it. You failed her, Dick. And now I have to clean up the mess."

With that, he stormed off, leaving Dick standing there, stunned and guilty.

Back at his Quarters

When Damian returned, he found Raven sitting in her room, the one he had prepared for her, with Titus lying at her feet. The dog wagged his tail as Damian entered, but Raven looked up from the floor. She was playing with the dog, looking surprisingly relaxed for the first time in days. She was wearing his hoodie, the fabric now hanging comfortably around her frame.

Damian stood by the door for a moment, just watching her. The sight of her wearing his hoodie made something inside him twist, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. It was a mixture of relief and possessiveness.

She looked up at him, her expression uncertain but thankful. "Thank you," she murmured softly. "For everything."

Damian's heart clenched. He didn't have the right words for what he felt, but the sense of peace he saw in her eyes, even if only momentarily, made everything feel like it was worth it.

But there was still much work to be done. Raven wasn't healed—not by a long shot. But he wouldn't leave her side again.

Not ever.