#trigger warnings apply

“Jason, don’t you fucking dare!” She yells over her shoulder.

The look in Jason’s eyes would have made her feel uneasy a month ago. Instead, amusement twinkles in them as she watches it hit the young blonde’s back with a resounding splat. 

A few howls and curses later, they’re both racing to the ocean to join Kori who’s already been in the water for at least an hour. Raven has no doubt that her toes are wrinkled. That thought has her own nose crinkling in disapproval. 

“Something wrong Raven?” Damian asks beside her on the towel he had laid out for them earlier, its coverage provided by the large royal blue umbrella he had dug, then pierced into the sand. 

One corner of her mouth quirks upwards as she spreads out her feet, “I was just thinking about how wrinkled Kori’s toes must be by now. I’m almost afraid to look at them when she gets out.” 

Damian lets out a chuckle, a heat sizzling low in her stomach at the guttural noise. “I can promise you Kori doesn’t care. She hasn’t stopped talking about this trip since father told her about it a week ago.” 

Raven’s smile softens, “She deserves a nice vacation. You all do.” 

“We all do, Raven.”

Right, we. Pulling the sleeve of her kimono back up over her shoulder, the smile on her lips fade as she falls deeper into thought. She doesn’t tell Damian that she doesn’t believe she deserves any of this kindness—or that she still doesn’t feel like she’s a part of the group. 

“I’m surprised that Bruce even planned a trip for us to go to the beach,” Raven ponders aloud, “I wasn’t sure he even knew what a vacation was.” Glancing sideways, she catches Damian’s own smile fading into a scowl. 

“He sent us here for more than just a vacation. I think he sent us away for a reason,” he admits to her, eyes narrowing as he looks to the sea straight ahead, “and when we get back I’m going to find out why.” 

So Damian’s in the dark just as much as she is. Turning her gaze back to the ocean as well, she briefly wonders if Jason or Kori have any idea what Bruce may or may not be scheming behind their backs. 

The bat family’s always been too good at keeping secrets. 

She wonders what secrets they’ve all been keeping from her, and apparently Damian too. 

“Hey Raven, Damian, we need one more player for cornhole, either of you down?” Stephanie yells across the sand to them. Raven looks up to see Kori practicing with the bags in her hand. The first one goes over by a long shot, leaving Jason to chase after it. 

From her left Damian gives her a questioning look, raising a brow in wait of her answer. She responds with a small smile, “You go have fun,” She waves a hand in the direction of his family “looks like Kori might need your help.” 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” He asks, clearly worried to leave her, even if they’re just playing a few feet away. 

“Yes,” She huffs, “You’ve already worried about me too much, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” He says with reluctance, moving to stand, “You’ll let me know if you need anything?” 

“Of course.” 

“Hurry up bat brat, me and Kori are ready to kick your ass!” 

Damian rolls his eyes, flashing her a final smile before turning to join the rest of them. Raven releases a sigh, settling back into her beach chair while digging her toes in the sand. 

The truth is she feels like she needs the time alone. The decision to keep what happened yesterday a secret is already beginning to wear on her, and she’s wondering if telling Damian would be better. She chews her bottom lip, watching Damian warm up with a few tosses. 

Clearly they’ve all played before, but Raven’s never seen Damian play anything. 

Well, that isn’t exactly true. She remembers a time before when everything was easier and one of the first times they had really bonded was over ring toss at the fair…

Except that memory is a blur to her now, wiped away by stains of maroon as dark as the curtains surrounding the booth they played at. If she concentrates enough she can still taste the metallic bitterness of her own blood as she bites her lip over and over while stepping over fire, ash and debris, and so many bodies—

Kori’s cry of delight startles her. Raven blinks hard at the noise, then lets go of shaky breath. With clumsy hands she reaches over to the cooler to pull out a bottle of water before placing it at her neck, holding it there. The coolness seeps into skin slickened with sweat, placing her more firmly in this reality. 

What was it that Consantine told me to do when this happens?

Right. Five things that I can see. 

Her eyes venture towards the ocean. She sees Steph, running after a cornhole bag. Jason with his bright watermelon trunks taking a short pee break in the water. A seagull flies above them all, cawing rather obnoxiously. Kori doing… some kind of new viral dance she knows she told her about before but wasn’t really listening. And Damian…

He’s getting ready for another throw, feeling the cornhole bag with his fingers to find the perfect hold. With an easy smirk on his face he plants his feet in the sand and readies his toss. A burst of wind blows by them, ruffling his hair, but he’s focused on the board in front of him.

She watches his muscles flex as he draws his arm back. Then with a steady toss the sand bag lands and slides across the board before sinking straight in the hole, all in one fluid movement. 

Kori claps, as Damian looks over. Their eyes meet. Raven gives him a smile, if a bit forced, but not wanting to raise concern. 

She breaks eye contact first with another uneasy breath. 

Keep going. Four things I can feel. 

One, obviously her toes in the sand. She wiggles them anyway for emphasis. The water bottle, now at her collar bone. The silk of her kimono sliding off her shoulder, and her back against the beach chair. Her breaths are becoming easier, more measured.

Okay, three things I can hear. 

The seagull is still cawing. Waves crashing. Music, somewhere in the distance—near the pier. 

Great, two things I can smell.

She breathes in deep, focusing on the scents in the air. Sea salt, and… sunscreen. She remembers now she had lathered up earlier. 

One thing I can taste. 

She unscrews the caps of her water bottle and takes a sip, relishing in the way it cools her throat. 

It surprises her how much it grounds her. Before she hadn’t even cared enough to try. At least now she can pull herself out of her episodes. For the most part anyway. 

“Raven?” Damian is suddenly just a few steps away from her with furrowed brows. Behind him the others gaze over in their direction with concern, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fi—” she stops herself, reminded of their earlier conversation. The anguish that had been in his eyes, wanting to do whatever he could to help her—devastated that she had been shutting him out. She takes a shallow breath and tries again. 

“I had a flashback…” she admits, one hand gripping the arm of her chair tightly, “but I think I’m out of it now. You guys can keep playing.” 

“Do you need someone to stay with you?” he prods gently, his piercing green eyes never leaving hers. 

“No, I think I’ll be okay now, I promise.” 

Damian gives her a look that tells her he’s not convinced. “Why don’t you come play with us? I’ll show you how to throw, and it will be good for you to get up for a few minutes.”

She considers his suggestion, then gives him the barest hint of a smile, “I’d hate to make you lose against Jason. He’ll never let you live it down if you do.” 

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he throws back at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

A burst of wind blows through his curly strands when he stretches out his hand. After hesitating another moment, she relents and uncurls her hand to place it in his. 

“Maybe just for a few minutes,” she says. So this Damian likes cornhole, maybe she should do her due diligence by trying to learn a game he enjoys. 

He gives her a smile of approval and she shoves down the feeling of warmth and satisfaction in favor of stoicism. As much as she wants to lean into him and all that this reality has to offer she hesitates—because it still feels like it can all be torn away from her at any moment. 

Another wind of salty air gently blows away those thoughts as Damian’s hand tightens around hers while the other reaches around her waist to help her stand. Raven’s used to his touch by now and accepts his help graciously, even if a little unnerved by how much energy it’s taking her just to stand. 

Wiggling her toes in the sand for a moment, she uses her feet to push up, ignoring the slight wave of dizziness and black splotches in her vision. She blinks it all back, intent on making it out to the edge of the water, to where the sand is harder and wet. 

Damian lets go of her but stays within arms reach, ever patient with the time it takes her to get her bearings. 

Don’t be ridiculous, we’re just walking. This shouldn't be a big deal right? 

So why does it feel like she’s running a marathon? 

Stop being so weak and pathetic.

“Hey Raven! Have you come to save us? We’re losing by two points, and if we sink this next toss we’ll be ahead by one!” Steph yells over at her with a wave as both Kori and Jason give her matching smiles. 

“Hey sunshine, got so bored you decided to come over just to get your ass beat too?” he waggles his brows at her over his sunglasses, laughing when Damian kicks sand up at him, 

“The game’s not over yet Jason. Anything can happen.”

“Mhmm sure, and Santa Claus could be real.” 

“Ignore him Raven, don’t let him fool you! He’s as much a piss-poor loser as he is a winner,” Steph calls out ahead of them, sticking her tongue out when Jason flips her off. 

“O-kay,” Damian cuts them both off when they reach their board, “the goal is to get all of our bags in the hole if you can, and if not then on the board. It’s one point if it lands on the board, three if it lands in the hole…”

Damian demonstrates by tossing a bag, everyone watching as it hits the board, sliding straight up and dropping right in. Jason curses as Steph laughs. 

“The first team to get exactly twenty-one points wins, but the other team's points will cancel out yours. So whoever gets more at the end of the round wins that round and gets to throw first.” 

Raven watches as Steph begins to reset the board, taking out all the cornhole bags and separating by their respective colors before handing Kori hers. 

“Jason likes to sabotage. There’s a good chance that if you have two or more bags on the board that Jason will throw away one of his to try and knock them all off,” Damian says. 

“Just the way the game rolls sweetcheeks. You could do the same to mine,” Jason shrugs. 

Damian ignores him, “Right now we have twenty points and Jason and Kori have nineteen. Since I won that round, Steph will start the round next and Kori will go after, but you take turns after each throw.” 

“But you can’t go over twenty-one or else you have to start all the way back at thirteen!” Steph yells. 

“I think I understand,” Raven chews her lower lip, “maybe I’ll watch a round or two first.” 

“Take all the time you need, just let me know when you’d like to try,” Damian responds in earnest, “It’s Steph and Kori’s turn now so we get a short break.” 

Raven nods, turning to watch the others and wraps an arm around herself. The sound of crashing waves to her left gains her attention and she looks out across the ocean again. Allowing her mind to drift, it takes her somewhere different this time. Back to the memory she seemed to inherit when she and Damian had kissed here for the first time. Even now she recalls the way his lips felt on her own and the way her heart leapt in her chest when he had wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer. 

Those same arms had caught her when she had fallen after teleporting to Nanda Parbat. They were strong and confident and had held her when she was at her weakest. 

They had carried her off the beach, all the way up to the bedroom without hesitation. 

Raven blinks, turning back to the group and catching Damian’s eyes. He gives her a gentle smile that she tries her best to return. 

He doesn’t even know that he’s carrying her now—the weight of her burdens and her past. 

“Ready to try? Kori just won the game so we can practice for fun,” Damian says, holding out a rainbow bean bag. 

Raven reaches out for it, “I might need some help with my stance,” she says, gesturing for Damian to assist.

“Of course, stand here,” he points to a spot beside the corn hole board, then drags a foot by making a line in the sand, “and try not to go past this line when you toss.” 

She obliges, and Damian slowly eases a hand on her hip. His touch sends a warmth through her body that makes her cheeks heat, and she’s thankful that Damian isn’t able to see her face right now. He steps behind her, his chest brushing against her back as he guides her arm back. 

When he freezes Raven looks back at him with concern, her heart jumping in her chest—but he shakes his head just as fast and looks down at her, 

“The hardest part is gauging how much of an arch you need in your throw to get it to land on the board right,” he says. 

As he continues to guide her throw Raven realizes that Damian knows a lot about cornhole. 

“How do you know all of this?” she asks as they wind back their throw together. 

“Richard taught me,” he says, voice low in her ear, “this isn’t the first time I’ve been sent away by father on a vacation.” 

She believes him. 

When she lets go of the bag it goes flying into the air, landing right in the middle of the board with a splat. 

“Looks like you’re a natural,” Damian says, and Raven can hear the pride in his voice. She refuses to acknowledge the faint blush adorning her face. She also notices that Damian hasn’t stepped away. 

“Actually, it feels like I’ve done this before…” she says, then twists backwards to look at him, “have I?” 

Damian’s brows furrow, “... we’ve played a few times before…” he looks up and past her, unseeing, “we usually played as a team against Kori and Richard.” 

Something about his words feels familiar—like there’s something out there just beyond her reach. A piece of knowledge or truth that she hasn’t quite unveiled. If she could just focus on it… 

It slips away before she can chase it, like sand falling through her fingers. 

“Thank you for teaching me—again,” she adds without thought, caught by the way his eyes bore into hers with a sudden intensity that nearly takes her breath away. 

“Raven…” Damian’s eyes search hers, looking for something she’s not sure she can give. She holds her breath as he seems to be at war with himself, fighting over what he wants to tell her.

 “... you don’t have to thank me,” he says after a moment. 

She wonders if she should push him into telling her what he really wanted to say. She wonders if she even wants to know. 

In the end, she decides to let it go. 

“Alright,” she says instead, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. 

“Come on, let’s head back for some lunch,” he says, reaching out his hand. 

Raven doesn’t say anything, but she does place her hand in his, marveling at how well it fits. He squeezes hers reassuringly, and together they walk back towards their beach chairs and umbrella. 

The entire way there Raven struggles with how none of this feels real anymore. 

.

“How about a group walk on the beach tonight?” Kori asks everyone at dinner, which is really more of a charcuterie board than anything. Veggies and fruits, cheeses and crackers and other light snacks fill the entire table. Damian had spent about half an hour setting it all up. 

Steph crunches down on a baby carrot and gives her a thumbs up.

“Yeah that sounds good to me, I’m always down for a starry night stroll,” Jason says beside her, popping a strawberry in his mouth. 

“What about you two?” Kori asks, her attention now on Raven and himself. 

Damian looks over to Raven, catching the slight pique of interest in her eyes and resists a smile, “Yeah, I think it’s a good idea,” he replies.

“Great!” Kori claps her hands together, “it’ll be so fun!” 

Damian doesn’t know how fun walking will be, but he’s sure he’ll enjoy spending time with Raven. 

Although he can’t help but feel worried for her. He knows something has been off for awhile now and he can’t quite place what it is. There’s this feeling of foreboding that he can’t shake, and as long as he’s been a vigilante he knows it’s something he shouldn’t ignore. 

He also has a feeling that Bruce has the rest of the pieces to the puzzle, and that Raven is undoubtedly in the middle of it all. 

Damian decides to busy himself with cleaning the kitchen. He’s always been good at working with his hands and it helps him focus on his thoughts. 

What he doesn’t count on is Raven staying behind to help him. 

“What can I do?” she asks him. He watches as one foot shifts behind her other one in an attempt to stop her slight fidgeting. Damian gives her a warm smile to try and put her more at ease. 

“You could help wipe down the table,” he hands her a wet cloth, “I’m going to put up the rest of the leftovers. 

Raven nods, seemingly pleased to have a task and gets to work. Damian watches her start at the messiest spot—Steph’s seat, of course. 

It takes him back to another time when they would often clean together after Alfred’s dinners. Splashing water from the sink at each other whenever one of them would be put on dish duty while the other would sneak a shot in retaliation with the dish towel, rolled up in spite. 

Her rare laugh after their war would fill the kitchen, and it usually ended with him unable to resist trapping her against the counter. 

That memory is hazier now, though he still remembers the way his lips would slide against hers before she opened her mouth to him eagerly. 

He shuts it out.

The rest of the cleaning is done in silence, which he’s grateful for. Raven’s always allowed him time and never pressured him to talk. Like him, she often opted for solitude. He’s not quite sure what he would say to her right now anyway. He doesn’t want to address his concerns until he’s more confident about what’s going on. 

“We’ll be outside waiting!” Kori calls after them.

Damian finishes while Raven goes upstairs to change. He’s putting the last plate in the dishwasher when she comes back down. She’s wearing a t-shirt and jean shorts with her hair pulled up in a ponytail. 

He frowns at her, then gestures towards the couch where he had taken off his hoodie—not wanting to get the sleeves wet from cleaning, “You might get cold outside from the wind, take my sweatshirt just in case.” 

She looks like she might protest, and he expects her too, but she must think better of it because she does as he says and pulls it over her head. He swallows a smile, because it’s always a pretty sight to see her in his clothes, and turns back to start the dishwasher. Raven stays quiet, drifting towards the door where the others are. 

“Ready?” he asks when he’s finally done, walking over to join her. She nods, then walks out when he opens the door for them.

The short walk to the ocean is just as quiet, save for the methodic crashing of waves and the ongoing conversations of the others ahead of them. The moon is full and bright and it casts an ethereal glow against the water. 

They had decided to walk to the pier, about a mile away, and Damian isn’t sure that Raven would be able to make the walk. He’s not ignorant. He knows that she’s getting weaker, that another seizure is more than likely inevitable, and that he can’t do anything about it.

A few feet away Raven stops to pick something up. She holds it out to him, marveling at it. 

“It’s a scallop shell,” he says, “a lot of people around here like to make necklaces out of them.” 

“I think it’s beautiful,” she tells him. 

Damian smiles, “I think you’re beautiful.” 

Raven scoffs but says nothing as she fidgets with his sweatshirt by tucking her hands into the pockets to store her shell. Damian lets her, not wanting to push anymore than he already has about her feelings for him. 

As they walk he watches her breathing get more labored, and Raven gets more frustrated with her lack of physique. 

They get about half a mile before Damian decides to stop them. 

“Let’s turn around, it’s getting colder anyway. The others will be fine without us.”

Raven doesn’t cry often, but Damian knows she’s on the verge of tears. She lets go of a shaky breath and nods, “Alright.” 

“Here, get on my back,” he squats down so that she can get on easily. 

“I can walk back, Damian,” she responds. Damian twists back to meet her eyes, seeing that the moon has cast half of her face in shadows. 

“I know you can, but you shouldn’t overexert yourself—especially when you recently had a seizure. When we get back we can make a recovery workout plan together.” 

Sound logic and offering a future solution seems to slowly change her mind. She purses her lips, then sighs in what he thinks is defeat. 

“Fine, you win this time but I want to try this walk again. I’m going to make it to that pier,” she says, her tone final. 

“I don’t doubt it,” he grins, arms moving to tuck around her legs when she wraps them around his waist. 

“All settled?” he asks when he feels her arms wrap around his neck for support. 

She hums an affirmative, her mouth at his ear, and he has to suppress a shiver when the warmth of her breath sends goosebumps down his arms. 

He sets a steady pace, taking care with his steps to not jostle her so much. After a moment he feels Raven resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“Damian?”

“Yes, Raven?”

“Do you think things will ever feel normal again? Do you think this universe will fix itself like Constantine and Zatanna said it would?” Raven asks him as he walks. 

Damian looks up at the moon, feeling her cheek brush lightly against his neck. He focuses on that feeling, and the way that her heart beat is steady against his back. He wants to do everything he can to keep it that way. 

“I think… that if there’s anything that you taught me is that even if the odds are stacked against us, that we can still hope that a better future lies ahead—and that’s worth trying to set things right again.” 

“You’re right. I know I haven’t done much since I’ve woken up… but when we get back I want to get better,” she squeezes her arms tighter around him, “I want to make things right too.” 

“I know Raven, we will.”

Damian doesn’t know how to set her mind at ease, or if that he should tell her the truth. He doesn’t even really know where he would start.