The water was warm and it drowned the world out, batting against her ears and cascading over her eyes.

Raven rested her forehead against the wall and let the water hit her back, chipping away at the layers of blood that had dried. It turned the floor of the shower to a murky red swill. She closed her eyes and breathed and prayed for peace. A sob broke through clenched teeth and her fist slammed in to the wall besides her head.

A day of war had been enough.

And the screams, the screams, the damn screams- they wouldn't leave her alone.

The child in her heart heard the cries of Azarath and she mourned twice the deaths.

Upon a rapping on the bathroom door, Koriand'r's dulcet tones called, "Raven, are you alright? Robin says that you have been in the shower for an extended period of time? Have you fallen?"

The girl opened her mouth as if to speak, but a scratchy, choked noise came. Streams of water from the shower head dragged the salt from the creases of her eyes and in to the bloody wetness as her feet.

She cleared her throat and answered, "I-I'm fine- I'll be out in a minute." And grasped blindly for a shampoo bottle, knocking over an ensemble of conditions and lotions that rattled as they ricocheted.

Raven bit her lip, picking up the fallen containers. Pale red liquid rolled off of the plastic as she replaced them on the shower's shelf.

"There is food in the kitchen once you're done- we have some hours before we take our next shift on the streets, get some rest after you eat, Raven."

The next 'shift'.

Those words were too much. Crouched in the shower, Raven raised her hands to her face, clasping them over her mouth and punching her nose shut to stop herself from an outburst of despair.

A day of war, one of many more to come, had been all the horrors of hell.

Embedded in her forehead and piercing her mind, the imprisoned demon hit her with more of his temptations. Trigon demanded his release- he could defeat Darkseid for them, he claimed.

A fierce mental shriek in his direction for silence slammed twice the number of shackles on her prisoner's self.

Raven brought herself a little ways out of the water, rising, and massaged a blob of shampoo in to her hair.

It had been a day of war against Darkseid's forces. She anticipated with dread the day that he finally descended upon them.

***
At his grandmother's feet, Damian rested his head against her knees. Khadija had reluctantly surrendered to slumber in the armchair. Titus was sprawled across her lap, snuggled in to the comforting warmth of the warrior.

In her sleep, Damian was stunned at how old she looked. His grandmother, immortal under the shield of the Amazons, and having lived for hundreds of years on the sustenance of  the Lazarus Pits, had seen the fall of empires and dynasties across the realms. The marks such a long life left lay far beneath the skin- marked, certainly, but not enough to match her years.

Blood remained spattered across her skin and clothes. Upon leaving Themyscira, Khadija had abandoned her Amazon armour and reassumed the loose flowing assassin's garb that she had given up when she fled to the island. Seeing her draped in the soft black material, daggers at her sides and amulets around her neck, Damian felt himself to be at once a child.

Sitting at her feet- as he'd done often before she'd disappeared- the boy considered the blood smeared across his boots. He dragged a hand down his face and sighed; the fingertips returned with dusty flakes of brownish red- fired blood. What a massacre he must have appeared.

Damian thought, at that point, that Anubis ought to have made a comment, a quip, a welcome intrusion in to Damian's thoughts. That wouldn't happen. Anubis was no more- not to him any way.

It was whilst combatting the hoards of parademons that Robin understood the powers he'd gained whilst fused to Anubis to have mostly fled. His fingers could draw sparks and he might manage a small defensive construct: this was the unlocked potential of Al Ghul blood that had come with the Egyptian magic; but it was little in comparison. The might of Anubis used to flood his blood if they so desired- Damian was sorry to now have let that lose just once, to see what they might have done.

All the same, the god's person was missed far more than his power.

Damian missed his friend.

More importantly at that moment, he missed his Raven.

Perhaps he ought to have reflected, melancholy, on the bloodshed of the day; perhaps he ought to have mourned the deaths to come. Damian had become numb to the red and the screams, at least, that's what he reckoned: at a later time, if he lived so long, the weight of the war might spring upon him in the night and fix him in a cold, paralysed sweat- it wouldn't be the first time.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned.

A pattern of footsteps that he had almost forgotten entered the Titans' living room. Robin opened his eyes and stared up blankly.

"Hey man, how're you holding up?" Jaime asked, looking from the sleeping old warrior to her grandson.

Robin didn't bother rising as he might have done before, instead tucking his knees up to his chest and sighing, "Well, thank you. That's a lie, frankly, but it's what you are supposed to answer to that sort of question. Is it not?"

Jaime nodded his sad agreement, "Can't disagree there hermano."

He remembered what he'd sought the boy for, "Uhm, Kori says that you need to get some sleep."

Drowsy, Damian stopped leaning against his grandmother and stood up, "Mmh good idea...". He stretched out his arms, catlike.

A strange wave of sentiment ran through Damian, looking at his grandmother and he squeezed her hand before making for the door. Titus snored peacefully in her lap.

"By the way- it's nice to have you back man, both of you."

Damian took Jaime's words with a nod of the head and what might have been a smile.

***

The closest in distance to the sitting room had been Raven's. He hadn't needed to knock- the door was unlocked.

A comfortable lump beneath the covers suggested that the witch had already gone to bed.

She made no comment as he entered, only peeked her head out of the quilt before re-submerging in the warm whiteness.

Damian's uniform was a bloody mess. He threw it off and retrieved from Raven's cupboard a pair of his cotton chinos that she'd stolen from him months ago: a pyjama shortage had led him to lend them to her; he'd never gotten them back.

Chest covered by a white vest- always worn under his uniform-, the boy tugged on the bed covers and Raven reappeared. His eyes were rimmed purple and the exhaustion made his hands tremble. Raven mutely opened the duvet to him and her boyfriend crawled in besides her.

Legs intertwined,Damian rested his head against her neck, arms around her waist. The damp tips of her hair caressed his forehead and she smelt like morning dew.

Raven tapped lazy fingers on her love's back.

"I hate war." She murmured. "It hurts so much."

Damian opened his eyes and met her gaze. He looked at his lifeline and told her in absolute earnest fragility, "I love you."

She smiled and pressed her lips to his. A tear trickled on to the pillow.

"I know...I know..." Raven rested her cheek against his and sighed, "I love you too Damian. Always."

"Always..."

A.N:

Hiya my darlings! Here we are with this week's chapter! I thought it was nice and sweet and a little sad but that's okayyyy. This was really really fun to write and made me lokey sad but that's okay. What are your thoughts on this chapter?

As always, I love you my darlings!

Thank you

-Bats :)