A piece of brick crumbled off the alley wall as the man's shoulder slammed in to it. Pinning the shifter to the wall with beams of pure darkness, acting like extensions of her arms, Raven narrowed her eyes at him. Allowing red to overcome her irises, the demoness payed no attention to the lesser shifters that Damian and Jason dealt with; her attention was on this one, the gang leader.

"Try another unproved attack like that again and we will know about it.", she tilted her head, leaning closer in, "Got it?", Raven released her magical hold on him, calling out to the other two that they should let the Dark shifters go- just this once. That warning would keep them out of trouble, for so long but not forever.

Damian kicked the leather-jacketed, hair-jelled, scar-faced shifter besides him (a bear shifter, by the smell of him) and almost growled, "Take that back to your filthy accomplices!"

True to his nature, Jason complained at not being able to skin the men and turn them in to rugs- or simply shower the dirty braggarts with bullets- but, after Raven forced an aura of calm over his bloodthirsty self, he conceded to simply punch a few of them...really, really hard.

Scarcely two hours after Damian had arrived at the apartment and the three of them had set out through the sleazy streets of Gotham's crime pits, they returned, satisfied. After relating to his kind-of-girlfriend that her attackers had been threatened and wouldn't try anything again, Jason gave them his version of a thanks.

At the doorframe, before Damian and Raven left for the Manor (Robin would explain it to Stephanie later) Jason leaned against the wood and scratched the back of his head, "I still think a bullet to the head would've taught them a better lesson, but I s'pose your way was fine.", he raised an eyebrow at Damian, "I'm surprised you helped- you're getting soft,", he teased and tried to ruffle his brother's hair, only receiving a smack to the hand, "or Raven's just a good influence."

There was something in the way he said those last two words and winked afterwards that brought to Damian and Raven a mild sense of alarm. Before either of them blurted out indignant excuses or confused splutters, Jason smirked, "Hey, I won't ask any questions...yet. Now go magic a portal or whatever because I really need a drink."

***

With a whole weekend ahead of them before school inevitably took hold of their lives, the Titans -minus Jon- were gathered up by Kori. The pregnant Tamarinian was still a force to be reckoned with as she stood before the Titans in the Manor's training room. It had been just under a fortnight since they had trained together and Koriand'r had noticed a rising frigidity between Damian, Raven and Jon, and Donna. They and Jaime were the Titans. The family of misfits that somehow survived Hell and near-death together. That didn't judge based on planet, realm or country of origin. Despite the option being available, Jonathan and Donna had chosen to stay at the Manor with the others: Koriand'r didn't want to put that relationship at risk, Garfield's absence was still a gaping hole in the group even after four months.

"We are doing some training today, it's important that we are preparing for any threat that must be faced.", Starfire said.

Twirling an escrima stick, Nightwing stood besides his fiancé and explained, "Its one-on-one, with powers. No grievous bodily harm", he narrowed his eyes at Damian, "there are no points and it is NOT a competition. We can point out ways to improve technique.", Robin was deeply disappointed. Ah well, you can't win everything....unless you conquer the world and force everyone to follow your ideology, then you can...but other than that.

"We're choosing the pairs.", Dick added.

Damian proceeded to curse under his breath a little too loudly, thankfully for him, Dick's Arabic was a little rusty.

Surveying the teens, Koriand'r decided, "Jaime, Donna, you two are first."

Moving out of the way and over to the control panel for the hologram projection machine -that they wouldn't be using at the moment- the others observed Beetle and Wondergirl awkwardly shifting about to get a rough distance apart from one another. The two of them locked eyes and a confirming nod from both of them started the fight.

Donna lunged forwards with a punch aimed at Jaime's shoulder, which the Blue Beetle dodged with ease, responding with a blow of his own. Damian shook his head- Wondergirl shouldn't have wasted her energy on a tactless move. Three blasts from the Beetle slammed her in to the ground and she scarcely missed a fourth that would've knocked her out cold for sure. The spider-like extensions from the scarab jabbed the ground that Donna had rolled away from and Wondergirl seized the opportunity to strike, punching Jamie's side as she flew in, completely flooring the Beetle. Jumping on the fallen teen, Donna rained a barrage of blows on him, only to be thrown straight in to the wall when Jaime's chest flared and a beam of energy struck the Amazon. Almost crumbling, Donna hit the floor on her hands and knees (making even Raven wince) and as the Blue Beetle ran towards her, rearing a hand back to strike, Donna sprinted forwards in a blur bright red, delivering an uppercut that slammed Jaime to the ground and almost caused a light tremor.

Starfire called the end of their match and professional feedback was given to both panting teens. Clasping hands with grins on both their faces, Jaime and Donna walked over to the hologram panel, draining their bottles of water.

"Impressive."

Donna might have jumped out of her skin.

Bruce chuckled at Diana's sister, dipping his head to the girl as he said, "Your skills are improving, someday you'll equal your sister, maybe even surpass her.", he looked to Jaime, "You too have shown excelled growth since you first joined the Titans. You'll make your predecessor proud."

That in itself was enough to bring Jaime to a sudden bout of emotion as he chocked up saying, "Tha-ank you sir."

Having shed his usual priceless work jacket -the perks of being a billionaire, eh?- Bruce donned only his slacks and white shirt, which naturally strained against his built frame. Sleeves rolled up, Bruce folded his arms as he watched Koriand'r and Dick address the other Titans. Only a few spaces away, Damian glanced at him and their eyes met- his son's portraying clear confusion.

Having popped in to the office for a quick board meeting (something about stocks that Bruce couldn't have just been phoned about), Mr Wayne had come home to find that Selina had taken Belladonna out in to the garden, Alfred was teaching Harleen how to bake cookies, and the Titans were nowhere to be seen: Timothy and Steph had gone out together for the weekend (the Young Justice were having some kind of get-together out of town). Upon asking the butler, Bruce discovered about the Titans' training session. Reckoning that it would be interesting to see more of their abilities (and his son's) Bruce fancied observing them.

"Right, next let's have...", Kori's eyes lit up as she beamed, "Robin and Raven!"

Mr Wayne stood straighter. Arms still folded, his keen eyes followed the demoness and his son's movements as they both fell in to fighting stances: Damian's was tense and low, his katana gripped in both hands readied in front of him, like a recoiled snake rearing to lash out; Raven emanated control and her fists were shrouded in black as she hovered off the floor cloaked in her signature purple glow. Beneath her breath, the demoness whispered her calming mantra, "Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos."

How out of character of Damian. Usually he had some goading, scathing statement to give about how easy it would be to beat his opponent. There was something in the cleft in his brow, firm set of his mouth, and tense grasping of his sword's hilt that led Bruce to believe that Damian's pride hung in the balance today.

The katana sliced clean through the air, a centimetre from where Raven's head had been. Threads of magic pierced the spot Damian had stood in as the demoness ducked beneath another swipe of the sword. Robin sent kick after kick in Raven's direction, some of which she only narrowly missed. Slamming up a shield to protect herself from another strike of the katana, Raven let her eyes flash red and her senses expand. His sharp breaths his her ear, as did his feet pounding the floor. In the last moment, Raven spun, catching Damian by surprise with a back hooking-kick that knocked him off course. Recovery time only milliseconds, Robin darted forwards once more, missing a blast from Raven and dropping to the floor, sweeping her legs. Where her head had been, Damian's katana plunged in to the ground. Sparing no time to pull out the sword, he kicked the demoness who'd just managed to stand, missing her by a hair's width. Dislodging his katana, Damian was only just in time to roll out of the way before one of Raven's tendrils of darkness flew through the air. Another blast, and Damian somersaulted forwards, landing a perfect elbow-strike to the stunned demoness. Keeping him occupied, she sent a lazily aimed beam, momentarily distracted by the red leaking from her nose.

It splattered on the floor.

The scent flooded her mind and the predatory instinct in her mind was switched on.

A flurry of shadows swarmed Robin, a few managing to his him-but only ever glancing past. He drew forth his katana and sliced, the dark tentacles fracturing as he did so. A wicked smirk overcoming his mouth, Damian readied himself for the onslaught that was to come. An attack thrice as powerful as the last came from the demoness and she came closer and closer. The katana was a blur of silver as it fended off the black streaks, a viper worthy of the ferocity of his skill and vividness of his eyes.

Closer and closer still, came the demoness. And, with one hand still bringing forth magical attacks, her hand slipped to her belt where a new addition lay. A gift from him that would be the downfall in today's match. The last black tendril was sliced apart, then all way still.

Raven clutched the dagger of Pride in one arm, its tip resting above Damian's heart, her other hand still aglow; the assassin's katana threatened the pale flesh of her neck, a millimetre away from shaming the porcelain canvas with bloody rivulets. His eyes sank in to hers- jade stone, completely in control- before they dropped past her bloodied nose to lips stained with her blood and back up to her deep eyes again. Damian dared not to breath too deeply lest her blade scratch his chest a little too hard and so his breathing wasn't allowed to be as laboured as it should have been. His own face was wounded, he knew, and he surely had nicks and bruised o the rest of him, but that was the least concern of his. Damian pressed his lips together, his katana and her blade still wavering in place.

Dick's voice finally ended the tension, "Alright, nice job guys!"

The suspense dissipated and the two of them withdrew their weapons: Damian's katana returned to its sheath, which had gone back to its original ace on his back; Raven's dagger slotted back in to her belt, its simple yet elegant form resembling that of its mistress. Both of them took the feedback without complaint or comment, too focused on containing other emotions.

Mr Wayne remained by the wall, giving no comment even after Kori and Dick had concluded dishing out their compliments and criticisms. Wiping a streak of sweat, Damian walked towards the billionaire, "Nothing to add, father?"

Bruce smiled, "Nothing that you aren't already probably chastising yourself for.", Damian snorted at that, glancing for a moment at Raven. His father followed the line of sight, "She's a fierce opponent", Bruce passed an eye over the way she stood and spoke with Jaime a few metres away, "not one you'd expect to be as passionate a fighter- certainly in control of herself."

"She has to be. How else could a person hold back a demon like that and not be?", realising that it may have come across a little unintentionally protective, Damian hastily added, "I've faced worse."

Changing the subject, Bruce began, "You left Stephanie on patrol last ni-"

Before an answer could be squeezed out of Robin, Kori called him over for paired practice fighting against holograms- this time working with Donna. Bruce would have to get it out of his son at a later time.

***

Showered and dressed, Raven sat on her bed, warmed by the boy reclining besides her. His fresh cinnamon-apple scent was amplified twofold and his hair was still damp as he flicked through the pages of a book, immersed in the tiny print. They had released the tension from their fight in a less violently passionate manner than other times: simply sitting together and connecting without verbal communication...though that was after the fierce making out amongst gushing water and steam.

Across the Nightingale Floor. It was a beautiful book, its story was as entrancing as the demoness who'd recommended it to him. Tribal conflicts in feudal Japan; assassins of a secret clan of enhanced beings; and with a perfect balance of emotional and sexual conflict. In many ways, a raw exhibit of humanity in its confusion from all angles. Damian had been sceptical, when he first was advised to read it, yet all at once the pages flew past and a tapestry of bloodshed and hope was painted with the remains of those murdered in the book. It would have o be an impeccable piece of art for an assassin to like a book about assassins.

Curled up with him, Raven's eyes darted over her own book- Shakespeare's Macbeth. For the third time, she scouted each page, referring to her previous annotations for many lines yet still marvelling at the craftsmanship of Shakespeare's wording. Truly 'the tragedy' Macbeth. As she fell upon the words 'Is this a dagger which I see before me?', Raven held her position in place with her bookmark and asked, "Damian, what do you make of Macbeth's apparent loss of sanity?"

The boy closed his own book.

"His hallucinations?"

Damian mulled over it, considering all the times he'd read the play. Macbeth's insanity...an interesting topic.

"The general understanding is that Macbeth's guilty conscience is at play- for preparing himself to murder Duncan and for the act of killing Banquo-  and with dagger leading him in to the action of murdering the king, that returns to the reoccurring theme of fate in the play."

Raven set her book aside, "But what do you think?"

After a pause for thought, Damian began explaining his views on the matter, met by a few questions and protest from Raven. There were many theories in circulation about Macbeth's insanity, several of which the two of them clashed upon.

Collecting laundry, Alfred walked towards the young lady's door, and was on the verge of knocking when he noticed it was ajar. Hearing voices from within, Mr Pennyworth dared not peek inside, and granted himself only the liberty of listening from outside the door.

"The Weyward Sisters certainly held the power to do so but..."

What a pleasant surprise, that was Master Damian. No doubt 'the Weyward Sisters' was a reference to Macbeth- wasn't that interesting? Since returning to the Manor, Alfred had noticed a distinct alteration in the way Damian dealt with this young lady in comparison to most other people. The boy wasn't one to trust without reason and Alfred had hardly ever seen him speak much to anyone of his own free-will. There was no doubt that Raven was as peculiar and unique as one could expect when keeping company with aliens and metahumans, but Alfred had come to like her. In the serene way that she greeted him good morning and offered to make him a cup of tea, and the contrast between her and the troublesome rest of the Manor, Alfred found her to be quite amiable. Particularly when she volunteered to help him around the house without being asked- as if Masters Jason or Damian would do as much, hah!

Dropping the basket of washing on the floor, the butler rapped twice in the door.

***

Noodles and dumplings rolled over the cobbles and sank in to murky puddles as the takeaway bag fell to the ground. The winter drizzle doing naught to limit his senses, Jason's arm withdrew from his jacket in an instant, gripping a loaded handgun. The man and the shadowy figure were alone in the alley, sheltered by the darkness granted by night.

It was inevitable that he would find Jason. He would've wrangled an answer out of Damian eventually.

"Jason."

"Well if it isn't the big bad Bat,", Jason didn't drop his hand, "I figured you'd find me somehow."

Batman stepped out of the black, his formidable figure illuminated by the yellow streetlights. Raising his hands to show that he was unarmed, Batman said, "I just want to talk, that's all."

Jason scoffed, "Like always. And yet it somehow always manages to end with bruises and breaks- funny this 'talking' thing.", he waved the gun as he talked, "So what? You're gonna try convince me to go back to the Manor and give up the guns and play happy families? Nah, I don't think so."

Moving closer, arms still raised, Bruce sighed, "Please Jason, I'm tired of doing this..."

"Yeah well so am I!", the gun fell to his side, still secured in his hand, "I'm sick of your way and your morals!"

"Jason just-"

"No! I'm not Robin!", Jason stung him, "Haven't been for a long time so...leave me be.", those last few words turned out so much feebler than he'd intended.

Almost a month, those two hadn't seen each other. Not the longest they'd been apart by a long shot, but a painful period nonetheless. Bruce had often spent nights awake, staring up at the ceiling with Selina curled next to him, running through all the ways he messed up Jason and every action that every turned the boy away from him.

Bruce sighed a weary, defeated sigh and met Jason's harsh eyes. They were never that stern when Bruce first met him. A dismal thought...how they used to light up wit holy and mischief...too young and ready to take the world head-on. These new eyes, the eyes he had since he returned, were too far gone. Look, Bruce told himself, look what you turned him into.

"Jason, we've done this too many times, I don't want to do it again.", he frowned. "I'm not asking you to change your morals or leave your weapons, I just want you to come home."

"Home?", Jason tried for scathing but managed only sad.

"Yes, home,", Batman's boots stepped over the little pools of rainwater between the pebbles, "home with Dick and Tim and Damian and Stephanie and Cassandra. Home with dinner and all the arguments and fights and Alfred's baking. Home to your family, Jason."

"I don't have a family.", Jason tried.

Only a meter remained between them as Bruce said, "Yes. You do."

A.N:

Can we have a raise of hands, who choked up a little?

Now, I'd say that was a bloody decent chapter in terms of length- in certainly taking advantage of the half term.

Just looking back of the first twenty or so chapters made me really realise how far my writing's come: I mean really, those first few were shambolic! Ah well, you have to start someplace.

Thanks!

-Bats :3