What Sleeps in Shadows

Chapter Twenty Two

Apparently Damian's family kept a small studio apartment above a corner store in a neighboring town, about twenty minutes away from the Academy. It wasn't lavish or expensive, but had a large bed, a few amenities, and a small stock of non-perishable food. Raven couldn't quite put her finger on why they would need an apartment like it, but Damian's answer was noncommittal and a bit cagey, so she didn't press the question. It didn't really matter anyway, she was grateful that they had a place they could both escape to, and get out of their soaking wet clothes.

The rain continued to pour down into the darkness of the night, and lights flickered on and off from the street below them, but nothing seemed to fit right. It felt as though the world outside didn't quite exist anymore, like it had faded from existence. Raven watched as Damian unbuttoned his shirt and set it next to the heater by the window, his movements unhurried. She stood by the door, her eyes glued to the large bed that separated them, its crisp, white covers standing out against the shadows of the room. She took a shaky breath, her mind getting lost in what they were really doing here. On one hand, they were here to talk through the choices she had made, and on the other...

Raven flushed as she thought back to the weight of him pressed against her in the car, of how much she had enjoyed his mouth on her skin, his lips sliding down her neck. She thought back to the feeling of his fingers spreading her, toying with her, making every part of her feel like she was on fire and ready to explode. She swallowed and Damian looked over his shoulder at her, taking a long moment to read her expression. The concentration in his eyes made Raven realize that he was reaching for the tattered edges of their connection, but found nothing that connected him to her anymore.

"Get out of your wet clothes or you're going to get sick." He turned back to the heater, away from her, and started to peel his wet undershirt from his body. "There are some sweats and things in the drawers so you can change into something dry."

Raven watched as he finally freed the wet fabric of his undershirt from his body and her eyes widened as she saw the patchwork of scars along his back. Where... had those come from? Her heart stilled in her chest, and without really thinking about what she was doing, she crossed the room towards him, her hand outstretched to trace a long, gnarled scar along his shoulder blade. Damian twitched and pulled back, turning around to look at her. His eyes were dark, warning her that she shouldn't touch when he hadn't given her permission. It should have been enough for Raven to back away from him, but there was something about seeing his body so broken and tender, that it made her stand her ground. It had been dark in her room at the manor, and she hadn't really thought much about what Damian would look like naked, but this... this wasn't at all what she had expected.

"Where did all of these come from?"

His steely stare told her that she shouldn't pry, and Raven's blush darkened, but she didn't turn away from him. The scars were old and new, some of them suspiciously fresh, and a bruise near his hip was starting to yellow, as if he'd gotten it when he'd visited his grandfather. Raven thought back to what Bruce had warned her about - that Damian's mother and grandfather weren't exactly the most upstanding people. Her heart ached at that thought, and she found herself wanting to comfort him.

"I worry about you." The words sounded odd coming out of her mouth, a sort of low, scratchy noise that wasn't quite her voice. "Did something happen while you were away?"

Damian's jaw ticked and he turned to the dresser in the corner, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He shoved them into her hands and motioned to the small bathroom in the corner. "Go change."

She thought about pushing the question, but the darkness in his eyes deepened, and Raven knew she should let the topic drop. If Damian didn't want to talk about something, he wouldn't, and there was no way to force him. Her hands wrapped around the soft cotton of the clothes, and she retreated to the bathroom, her stomach tightening in knots as she moved. The rest of her clothes were hung from the shower curtain rod, and she pulled on the sweatpants and t-shirt he'd given here, somehow feeling more naked than she had before. Her underwear and what was left of her tights were still in his car, so she'd have to go without.