Damian's eyes slowly blinked open as their lips parted. Raven's cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen- it was the most alive he'd ever seen her.

"Dami-" he stopped her with a soft peck.

Raven bit her lip, frowning slightly.

"Can we... deal with this tomorrow?" Damian sighed. It was far to late in the night for a deep and personal conversation if they were to kid Mr Pennyworth in to thinking they'd gotten a few hours of rest.

The witch nodded, "It's getting late. Really late. " she pulled unwound her arms from his neck and smiled breathlessly, "Goodnight Damian."

He leant against the wall, "Goodnight Raven."

The half-demoness turned to leave, she stopped at the turn and turned around, "Oh, and goodnight Anubis."

Damian's eyes flashed gold. Green once more, they followed her out of the door.

***
Knock knock

Jolting from complete blackness to blaring light, Damian snapped awake. Wide-eyed and heart racing, he thrust his covers away and leapt out of bed.

Knock knock knock

Damian gawped at his digital clock.

10:15

Ten? Ten!

He'd slept in. By God...he'd slept in! What was he doing?

Ah, we're finally awake are we? Good good! That was a rather lovely rest.

Anubis.

Yes?

Shut up. Damian clocked that he was speaking to a god. Please.

Oh sorry, I'll be quiet. You go on- don't mind me.

Damian fixed his sheets and wracked his brains. How had he managed to sleep for so long? A full seven hours! It was unfathomable.

Knock knock knock knock

"Master Damian," Alfred's voice was muffled behind the door, "I do hope you haven't died in there..."

The teenager gritted his teeth. How could he have been so foolish as to disregard his morning regimen? Father and Pennyworth would surely realise that something was wrong, but what was wrong? Damian couldn't quite place it.

Then the ton of bricks fell on his head. Last night. Raven. Kissing.

"Eeee alayna..." Damian hit his palm on his forehead.

Knock knock knock

"Master Damian, you may very well be enjoying raising my blood pressure but I most certainly am not. Whilst I am not in favour of unnecessary violence, I have no issues with breaking that door down."

Metaphorical smoke blew from Damian's nose and he almost snapped of the door handle opening it with a fury. The wizened gentleman's tufty eyebrows were raised and, in one of the very few instances in Damian's life, he saw that he had truly started the man.

"Something I can help you with, Pennyworth." His attempt at civility was pathetic.

"Ah- Master Damian- I see you are indeed alive. That ought to be a relief to me, and yet somehow I find myself wondering if you are worth the grief you cause." Alfred marked the messy state of affairs that was Damian's hair and clothes (a vest and baggy pyjama trousers), and gathered that the boy had just crawled out of bed. Uncharacteristic to say in the least.

"Seeing as the day is already in full swing and you hadn't left your room, I had wondered if you might fancy something to eat. " the butler's gaze was stern. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I shan't have you going hungry."

Damian looked past Alfred and saw Raven's door. Plagued with a million thoughts, he grasped at the fist viable one, "Is Raven awake?"

Mr Pennyworth hummed, "Miss Raven has been up for the last half-hour. It's unlike yourself to sleep in for so long, and from her frustration, I trust the same applies to your lovely young lady friend."

Damian didn't like the way Alfred's eyes twinkled when he spoke. The butler knew far too much for Damian to lose his guard around him.

"Master Damian, I have prepared tea and toast, kindly see yourself downstairs promptly. I have to clean up  the remains of a pillow murdered by your cat- to whom I am the namesake." The salty tone of Alfred's voice sweetened- truly, he'd become rather fond of the temperamental feline.

"I'll be down in a minute."

The door was promptly shut, leaving Mr Pennyworth, facing the closed door, wondering at the boy's strange mood.

TT. Adolescence.

***

Cooked to the perfect golden down colour, Damian's toast was cold as he bit in to it. The tea was lukewarm and in far too small a cup, but it was Alfred's tea. And there was nothing that felt more like being back in the Manor than Alfred's cooking: simple though toast and tea were.

Damian stared out of the windows overlooking part of Wayne Manor's grounds. He snorted, remembering the way he'd trained with the shrubbery, when he'd first moved in to the Manor. Six years on- he could scarcely believe it.

You are reminiscing. Might I ask what you're thinking about?

Anubis' innocent curiosity appealed to Damian's better nature (something the Egyptian god had managed to do increasingly often).

When I first began living with my father...it's safe to say that if you think I'm volatile now, that's nothing in comparison to then. I found conflict in every encounter and trained relentlessly.

You still do, I sense. You woke late this morning and the first self-criticism you gave was that you had missed hours of training.

Old habits die hard- I believe is the English phrase. Back then, it was excessive. Pushing my body beyond my known limit: I suspect as a method of coping with the drastic life-change. I went so far as to kill all of Alfred's trees training outside.

You cherish a strong affection for this Mr Alfred. Anubis noted, not unkindly.

Hmm... I suppose I do. Never one to judge, good old Pennyworth. Stern but fair, respectable. Impossible to despise, truly.

There was a newcomer to the kitchen, whose presence broke off their conversation.

"Good morning Damian."

"Raven." He nodded, staring in to his china cup.

In her purple pyjamas, the witch leant against the kitchen island, a closed book in hand. Damian glanced at the cover: The Channelling of Deities, by Flinda Hiffleswot. One of the works Zatanna had passed on to her. Judging by the folded page-corner, Raven had been doing some reading.

She looked down at the book, pursing her lips. Forcing herself to meet his gaze, Raven said, "I thought it might help...with Lord Anubis..."

How very wonderful- a demon with manners, it's been a while since I've met one of those. Oh- please do tell her that the titles are unnecessary, 'Anubis' is just fine. But...if you with to call me 'Anubis, Lord of the dead and rotting, Master of the balance of life, supreme Egyptian overlord of the-

"He says 'Anubis' is just fine."

"Oh...okay." Raven would have to get accustomed to that, knowing that there was a god listening in on their conversations...which meant that Anubis, the great Egyptian god of death, had sat in on them kissing. Her cheeks rouged: it hadn't been just kissing...if her colloquialisms were correct, the term used was 'making out' which sounded a rather stupid phrase- but that was digressing.

Raven cleared her throat. "You woke up late."

"I don't see how that's any of your business." He snapped, stopping himself having realised the defensive tone he'd taken. "I didn't mean-"

"It's...it's okay, Damian. I get it."

She sat on one of the cushioned stools and set the book on the counter. "I've been reading up on types of mortal-immortal bonds concerning deities. I think I've found the type of bond you have with Lo- Anubis."

This will be interesting.

Damian frowned and turned his body towards her.

"Right, well, it appears (from what you've described) to be a symbiotic telepathic bond."

"Symbiotic telepathic.." Damian mulled over the words. "A mutually beneficial relationship with mental links."

"Sort of. What differentiates it from other host-spirit bonds is the control of the spirit over the host." She diverted her eyes from his lips and continued, "With most of the others, the spirit eventually assumes total control over its host; not with the symbiotic telepathic link."

"One less problem to worry about." Damian smirked.

"Quite. Another characterising feature is that the spirit is non-corporeally attached to the host. It latches on to their soul and connects the minds."

Damian took a thoughtful chunk out of his cold toast. Having chewed and swallowed said cold toast, he asked the half-demoness, "The fundamental question here, is how to separate the two: host and spirit."

Raven bit her lip, "That's just the problem, it can only be broken by the caster of the binding spell."

Clink

Damian's cup hit the saucer while its handle stayed around Damian's finger. It was just his luck that Alfred made an appearance at that moment.

"Master Damian! You've broken a very fine china cup! One of a full set!" Mr Pennyworth was followed by the other Mr Pennyworth.

"Mrrrroww." My Pennyworth the cat agreed with his human counterpart.

Damian stood, chucking the cup handle on to the counter and began agitatedly pacing, rubbing the back of his neck and muttering to himself with a clenched jaw.

"Damian-" Raven tried. "Damian...it's not that ba-"

"For the love of all that is good Raven please tell me you weren't going to say that it isn't that bad."

The half-demoness wrung her hands, "Well it isn't."

"Raven. The sole solution is if eight critically wounded heretic occultists decide to become good Samaritans."

Not favourable odds in the least.

A.N:

Hello my lovelies! It's me again with another chapter. I really hope you're enjoying the story so far. What do you lot think is going to happen next? And also, are there any other ships you want to see here (I've already got something sorted for Jason btw)?

Also, we've just had the trailer for the new JL Dark movie come out. I'm honestly shitting myself. God, my nerves are flying off the scales. I'm still, however, unbelievably excited!!!

Anywhooo, stay tuned my darlings. Thank you!

-Bats