DC: Dad Lore

[Depth_]

Coming to this particular city was a bad idea, one that she knew from the very beginning, but she did anyway because she thought it would make for the perfect smokescreen. Spoiler alert: It didn't. Of course it didn't. What made her think otherwise?

The night was halfway through and while it was the most dangerous time of the day in the most dangerous city in the country, she calmly walked through the shades of the crumbling buildings. It was safe for her. Well not entirely, but that was the irony of her life.

She didn't just appear calm because she was truly calm. She couldn't risk being otherwise. The night was as dangerous for her, even more than for the average person, but it was also safe for her. It was the time she felt most at peace.

The inky shadows terrified her – on a few occasions – as much as it brought her comfort.

"I doubt I will catch the midnight train heading out of the city." She mused pessimistically to herself.

She would have used her magic to get away but that came with huge risks. She was already in deep trouble due to the honest mistake that happened less than 24 hours ago.

They hadn't wasted their time in combing every nook and cranny of the slums to fish her out, even possessing any manner of civilian they came across.

She had no choice but to leave if she wanted to keep her problems to herself. At this point it wasn't even a surprising occurrence.

She finally got to the train station but just like everything good in her life (which was pretty much nonexistent), she unsurprisingly missed it. She could hike a moving truck but she'd rather not. Chances were that the unfortunate driver would die before morning came.

"What I wouldn't give to teleport right now." Annnnd she couldn't. Why? Hmm, well other than the fact that she'd beacon her location to the stalking dregs, and it will also leave her mentally drained, there really wasn't much risk with it.

She should have gone straight to Metropolis like she initially thought but something about this dreary place drew her. She should have known better than to trust a stray thought.

If she could get to the outskirts then she might hitch a ride or risk teleporting to reduce the distance between her and Metropolis.

She was running out of options as she was of time. Either try to get Superman's attention in Metropolis or risk everything on the line, oh and by everything she meant this universe, and swing her way to the doors of the Halls of Justice in Washington DC. They will have to hear her out if they wanted the slightest chance of fighting against what was coming their way.

'Fight? No. If they want the slightest chance of survival.' She corrected inwardly.

She wasn't ignorant of her own role in this whole mess, as unwilling and formerly ignorant as she was,

Morbid thoughts flowed through her serene mind as her pace carried her with composure to the exit of this city.

Her cloak covered her just well enough in the biting cold and even if it didn't she doubted the freezing temperatures would put a dent in her fortitude. She survived worse than a simple winter cold.

She continued walking, heads down and hands tucked inside her cloak, and she was almost near one of the main roads when the streetlights started flickering and a certain chilling wind blew her way.

She heard the growls before she even saw them. Cursed things.

She knew she'd have to run the moment she saw the rising shadows. Perhaps risk teleporting away if she couldn't fight them off and lay low for as long as possible until they lost their tether to this world.

"He awaits…. No escape~" One of them snarled.

If she was so easily riled and disgusted then she might have retorted harshly but she lacked the mental capacity to do so. Instead her answer was a simple, "I refuse."

There. Easy and simple without risking her mental state to fear or anger.

"… Rebel!" One screeched and lunged at her.

"Hezbek… Zinthos… Azarath!" Dark energy fired from her hands and slammed the demon into the concrete.

The other three demons howled as they rushed towards her. They were probably cursing her in their native tongue or something similar, and she understood the sentiment. She'd probably curse herself too if she were in their shoes and if she had the luxury of being so emotionally intense.

The first demon to reach her, quite the eager one it was, was punched back by a column of earth. She jumped backwards, levitating for a few seconds before she grounded herself.

She squashed the small relief that almost budded when she realized that the cultists were not nearby. They would have made it a point to announce themselves with grating chants or a malicious magic circle. They sent the demons on a free hunt.

She blasted one of the demons, tearing off the left section of its torso but she knew it wouldn't be down for long.

The first demon had picked itself up, and she suspected it was a fan with the way it appeared more ecstatic than the rest as it barreled towards her with arms wide for a hug. Yup, definitely a fan. Too bad she was the shy type and didn't do well with the rambunctious sorts.

"Azarath.. Metrion.. Zinthos!" Her form flickered for a moment, dodging the overeager hug at the last second. Her throat was definitely parched and sweat was forming on her brows. Oh right, she still had to reply to this guy.

A pole was uprooted from the ground and slammed the head of the demon with the cemented end, killing it on the spot as it started dissolving immediately after, and falling on top of another.

"Azar— Hngh!" One of them snickered in mocking glee as its elongated nails left a long cut along her shoulders. She reflexively palmed it away with raw magic but the other one was upon her with renewed gusto.

Tongues with mouths full of sharp teeth sprouted from every part of the demon's appendage.

Of course the cultist won't send the same lower rung demons they sent the first three times.

From the corner of her eyes she saw the remaining two demons closing in on her, both having lost at least one part of their bodies.

'The cultists aren't here.' She thought in shaken calm. She could use this chance to teleport. They would be hard pressed to find her if she could make it to Metropolis in time.

The demons might sniff the trail for the cultists but it would take hours for them to find her. Sufficient time for her to hide herself, meditate and cool off her shaken mind.

Fighting off summoned demons for the fourth time while escaping the clutches of deranged demonic sorcerers all in the span of a day was extremely taxing for her. It spoke of her mental fortitude and practices that she still managed to retain a sliver of calm to this point.

She almost closed her eyes in reflex as she released the spell to let the portal take her only for them to widen slightly, just the tiniest bit, which in her strained mind was the equivalent of shocking surprise, as a hand wrapped around the demon's head, the one closest to her, and dragged it backwards against a heavy shoulder with a sickening crunch.

The slight surprise from the sudden turn of events was enough to break her thread-thin concentration and canceled the portal before it could even form. The realization of which formed a pit in her stomach.

She was already at the edge. Any further and she'd lose her last bit of control. The cultists wouldn't even have to do anything by then since she would have pretty much done everything herself. To sum it up, her losing control at this point was her basically gifting out the supernatural bounty reward on her own head to the very same thing that put it there—.

"SCREEEEEEE!!" Her thoughts were interrupted by the grating screech of the second demon dying to a stapler that ripped out its throat…?

"…. Huh?" Her mind turned slow and heavy. Did she see right or was the stress that great? A f….. Calm down girl. In and out.

A stapler of all things used to kill a demon?

She could hardly continue her train of thought when the last demon rushed at the unknown man, its nails long and curved like— the man sidestepped the stab but clipped one of the nails with his stapler as he did and broke it off while still in a turning motion, grabbed the nail with his other hand and stabbed the demon from the back of its head.

A sickening squelch followed the puncture and then a dull thud as the body fell to the ground and started decomposing at a visible speed.

Raven swallowed, panic and her wild emotions almost forcing her into a run when the man turned to face her. And that was when she got a good look at him.

A tall fat man with white hair tied to a small knot on the back. He wore large round glasses that covered his entire eye socket and had a small chop cut mustache. In a brown tee and fading blue jeans. All in all he was just a fat old man.

'And yet…' This very fat old man killed three demons in less than five seconds, with less effort than she would need. And she was the one with magic.

"Uh… I… Who are you?" She stuttered.

It probably would have helped her more if she said a simple 'thank you' first before questioning the stranger, but she digressed. Her mind was going down the bend and it was a steep travel.

She couldn't allow herself to relax and fail to react fast enough if he tried attacking her.

'I can still squeeze open a portal. A bit risky but I have no choice.' She thought as she readied herself to flee at the first hostile movement he made.

As for why she was hesitating this much, which obviously had something to do with the man in front of her, was because he was muted. Not vocally, since he hasn't spoken a word yet, but empathetically.

His surface thoughts were not broadcasted like everyone else that she had met. It was like an opaque glass. Too muddled for her to get any solid detail.

The man stared at her for an unnerving second and looked at the busted stapler in his hands before sighing dejectedly. At least that was what she thought it felt like.

"Can you understand me?" After getting some of her bearings back, she asked slowly.

He nodded at her and held up a hand before she could ask another question and walked a bit off to the side to pick up a plastic bag where he carefully put the busted stapler.

He looked over his shoulders and gestured for her to come but she remained rooted to the ground, mentally giving both herself and him ten seconds to give her a reply before she conjured the portal and leave behind this dreary city.

He clearly saw her hesitating and somehow knew she wouldn't budge because she felt the familiar empathic resonance from him before his words came.

"I am not going to hurt you." He said softly, almost like a clear whisper.

"You still haven't answered my question. Who are you?" She asked again, this time with more steel in her voice. Well, at least as much as she was able to use without keeling over.

"Nobody important." He replied again, in the same slow but even tone. "Just an old man coming from a birthday."

He raised the bag to where the available lights to illuminate it. She could see the birthday design printed on the bag. Whistles, hats, cake and confetti.

He gestured for her to come closer and this time she did, albeit very slowly but he seemed to have enough patience for her to go along on her own flow.

She kept contemplating as she took every slow and dragged out step towards him, keeping her escape card in the tip of her hands.

She finally got to him, the small wave of care and vague honesty coming from him making her postpone her decision. Someone caring for her so openly like this was a new one.

The demons, the acolytes and everyone in their ilk never bothered for that. Even those that took care of her during her childhood and taught her had a veil of wariness around them in regards to her. Well, what was tethered to her more specifically.

He brought out a fresh handkerchief from his bag and took deliberate slow action until he was dabbing up the wound in her arm. She could heal, but she didn't tell him that.

He cleaned it up quick and neat and tied another handkerchief around it before giving himself a pleased nod.

He turned around and started walking away while she just stood there unsure of what to do, that was until he stopped to look at her still standing still and beckoned her to follow.

"It's too late to be walking on the outskirts, wounded, tired and hungry." His voice was too faint to be so easily heard. "You can leave in the morning if you want. I'll drive."

She was still stuck in the motions when she absentmindedly gave him a nod and took a subconscious first step.

She gritted her teeth and followed through with the second step, and then the third. Then there was a fourth, and before she knew it she was walking half a step behind him while he slowed down his pace to match hers.

'Still nothing?' She was a bit baffled. She was so close to him, well within his reach, and yet he just continued walking nonchalantly.

The walk was quiet but it rattled her nerves in a way that made her jumpy, which was a first. She enjoyed the silence, preferred it even, even hoping that others would learn to appreciate it more and maybe learn how to keep their thoughts and emotions private while they were at it, but this one felt prickly.

"You have a car?" She said the first thing that formed in her head. She was never one for conversation but the discomfort she felt needed a distraction.

He hummed.

"Then why are you walking in the middle of the night when you could drive?" She asked with a hint of suspicion.

The old man's shoulders slumped and for a second it seemed as if life left him. Somehow she could tell why he was making that face and feeling like that. His emotions weren't still clear but she could get the general gist of things.

"You didn't expect to be out this late?" She asked tentatively.

He nodded his head dejectedly. "End at 9pm they said." This time she was sure he muttered to himself even though she still heard him.

She kept her eyes peeled and her mind sharp as she followed the strange old fat man.

They were able to catch a train ride just on time, a feat attributed to no luck of hers, and after another thirty minutes of walking they arrived at a small building with a conjoined store in front of it and a van parked neatly on the side.

So he wasn't lying about the car. She did not put much hope on it but she would be the tiniest bit glad if he stood by his offer and gave her a ride out of the city.

The house had a warm feel to it and even the colors of the couch and the paint felt soft.

He led her upstairs to an empty room that had only a small bed with an empty closet. There was hardly any dust in the room which meant he regularly kept it clean or maybe his wife did. Only she didn't see any pictures on the wall in the living room.

"Shower. I will make tea." He pointed at the adjacent bathroom and left. He was a man of few words, a sentiment she understood so she wasn't too wary of the silent man.

She still had her doubts and caution. She loosened the cloak as well as the small bag she carried which contained only a pair set of clothing.

Hot water felt so nice after so long but unfortunately/fortunately she couldn't bring herself to enjoy it, or any small comfort for that matter.

She stepped out of the bath with her breath feeling fuller and found a pair of oversized shirts and tracksuit pants.

She left the room feeling refreshed and calmheaded for once, something that did not involve her meditating for hours, and also something that she couldn't enjoy. She of all people knew the dangers of comfort, except in her case it was more existential and on a far grander/apocalyptic scale.

"Tea." Her control over her emotions stopped her from flinching and throwing a hex on reflex since she didn't sense him at all until he spoke.

The tea was oddly soothing and the rice and stew really helped with her hunger. For once she didn't need to steal to eat.

She couldn't tell given how neutral his face looked and how calm and paced he acted but she felt he felt pleased when he saw her finishing the food and enjoying the tea.

She still couldn't get anything from his head except only the occasional waves of vague feelings.

"… Thank you." She said softly, after a while of finishing the food, to which he gave a simple nod. Once again his mind did not give a hint to what he felt. If he could tell that her injuries and bruises were gone then he said nothing about it.

"I… I.."

He shook his head and thumbed at her room.

"Sleep. Tomorrow."

 

[Akuma-Heika]

She finally got to the train station but just like everything good in her life (which was pretty much nonexistent), she unsurprisingly missed it. She could hike a moving truck but she'd rather not. Chances were that the unfortunate driver would die before morning came.

Click to shrink...

...but she was willing to get on a train that would have a lot more people on it, and would be slower than the truck...

 

[Depth_]

She woke up with a startled gasp, her hands setting up a motion under the blankets before she stopped herself and took stock of her surroundings.


She was in a little room, a well ventilated one, with how big the windows were, and sleeping on a soft bed and a snuggly pillow.


She let out a deprecating sigh. "So comfort equals nightmare. Of course, why wouldn't it?"


The fact that she had woken up in a slight panic due to feeling too comfortable, even in her dream state, said a lot about how her life so far had been and how steep her expectations were.


"Right. I saw a man kill three demons with a stapler and followed him home." She would have laughed if she actually reciprocated with humorous thoughts.


A look at the sun's position outside her window showed that it was barely past 9am, which means she slept for almost eight hours. Fours hours late from her usual rising time.


Her thoughts went to the demons from last night and her naturally pessimistic thought whispered that the kind-yet-suspicious man was probably dead in his room with his blood writing a warning on his walls and mirrors.


Her empathetic senses covered the entire house in reflex, searching for his mind or the familiar feeling of an opaque wall—


Soda.


That was the bare thought she picked up from inside the kitchen.


She sighed in relief. He was alive. At least for now. It would suck major if the one peaceful night she's had in the last year was marred with a battered corpse.


She took a few minutes to meditate and get her mind in the right frame to start the day. She pushed the bulk of the rampant morbid thoughts to the darkest part of her mind, washed her face and finally went down to confront whatever awaited her for the day.


……


She found him in the kitchen idly flipping pancakes with one hand as he sipped slowly from the drink he had in his mouth.


"Um…. Good morning." She greeted softly from behind, making him pause his routine motion in order to look at her, before giving her a nod, one that felt satisfied from what she picked up.


"Morning." There was the even tone to his voice that almost made it sound like background noise if you weren't listening. "Juice?" He pointed at the fridge.


"Uh… um thank you." She replied uncertainly, not knowing how to react to his kind offers. She wanted to refuse and go for the polite reply of preferring water but her voice stuttered out under a stare that she couldn't make anything of.


Her heartbeat was steady as were her steps slow and counted as she walked over to the fridge, not knowing what to expect from opening it.


Her experiences with fridges weren't exactly the best. Demonic influences had a way of taking normalcy from the most basic of things.


She went for the safer choice of orange. Honestly she just picked the one closest to her hands, not especially caring about which one was better between orange, watermelon and apple. She could only thank her small graces that the spontaneous mocking visions of a severed demon's head didn't lunge at her upon opening the fridge.


"Watermelon better." Her head whipped around to see him behind her holding up two plates of pancakes before walking out to the dining room.


"How does he do that?" She whispered to herself with barely suppressed curiosity. He had a way of seamlessly slipping through her senses at times.


She watches as he deftly spun two cans of whipped cream and chocolate syrup between his fingers before drizzling them graciously across the plates.


He seemed to be having fun with such simple actions, was what her sense told her.


"I–" She started only to be cut short.


Eat first. Questions later. His finger pointing at her plate seemed to say.


She couldn't exactly complain when she was grateful for the breakfast, and also was planning to ask him for his help to get to Metropolis… or Washington DC if the former didn't work out.


He seemed content seeing her eat with barely restrained gusto and even refilled her empty glass without her knowing… until the fourth time he did so when she finished with her plate.


"Thank you. I really mean it." Her voice was even and once more she hated her curse that made it a risk to even properly express her gratitude.


"Mm."


She stood by the door watching him clean the kitchen, one of her arms nervously rubbing against the other.


"…" She wanted to speak but held herself back, unsure of what type of consequences may arise from it. But she felt this much was the least she could do with the unexpected care she was receiving.


"R… Raven. My name is Raven." She managed to say in an even tone, ignoring the initial stutter.


The pudgy man stood in the most bland posture she ever saw anyone stand in with a small towel hanging off his shoulders.


It was the slight ruffling of his mustache that revealed he spoke something, but her ears caught it nonetheless.


"Taro." He replied and paused, seemingly contemplating something before adding. "Or old man. Either is fine."


It seemed rude to simply call him old man so she settled for Taro. He didn't seem to mind either way.


Seeing that they finally got the basic introduction out of the way, only after eight hours but details, she couldn't help but finally ask the most curious question that remained stuck in her head since the previous night, especially as she took in the unflattering physique of the slightly obese man.


"Taro," She tried cautious, only continuing when she saw no negative reaction, "How did you do it last night?"


His head tilted in confusion, making her wonder if he was playing dumb. Regardless, she pressed on.


"Those demons," she started, watching his reaction intently as she did, "you did not look surprised by their existence. Have you seen them before?"


She had to know. She didn't know how long he was there but she was sure he definitely saw her use magic. Not that the upturned road was any subtle either.


The fact that he looked experienced against the demonic ilk and even took her in threatened to bloom the tiniest bud of hope in her.


Was he similar to the people of Azarath? It seemed too good to be true but it wouldn't hurt to ask. She wasn't in a position to refuse an helper of any kind.


He tapped his chin, or rather the mass of flesh he had for one - not that she was judging or anything, just pointing out what she saw - before shrugging with a slow shake of his head.


It wasn't an outright no. A maybe, perhaps?


Her brows creased. "Then how did you kill them so easily? And why did you take me in so readily?"


"You were in danger." He simply said. Well there was no way he knew she had been preparing to portal out of there so he wasn't lying.


But that left her with more questions.


"So what are you? If you don't mind me asking." She asked. She needed any header she could get. "Are you a sorcerer? A warlock? Or like those enhanced people, erm, metahumans?"


Once again he shook his head. "Human."


She might be late in realizing this but Taro was one for fewer words than she was.


She clearly didn't believe he was just human. There was something else there. Average humans don't just stumble on a group of demons and kill them with a stapler in less than 10 seconds.


'And there is also his mental barriers.' She knew a few warriors just like him, back when all she had was childish dreams when she slept. Disciplined and trained in not just magic, but in body and mind.


She bit her lips, weighing her options as she followed Taro to his shop through a door adjacent to the garage.


She asked a few questions here and there as he did a quick check on his mini-minimart before flipping the sign to start the day.


Raven finally came to a decision, one that posed certain risks as well as doubtful rewards. She raised her hand towards a magazine Taro was reaching for and lifted it across the counter to his hands.


'No flinch or surprise. So he knows. He's that used to magic. It might explain his mental barriers.' She theorized, deflating a bit as all he did was throw her a thumbs up and plopped into his seat.


Since he seemed cavalier about everything so far, Raven decided to inch a bit further.


"How are you guarding your mind and emotions? I can barely feel anything from you even when I'm standing right in front of you." She was blunt and direct. He seemed to think nothing special of helping her out, even going an extra length to accommodate her as much as he could.


She saw him dropping the magazine just below his glasses to look at her so she continued. "I'm an empath."


To her knowledge, empaths weren't the most accepted bunch due to their lacking sense of privacy. She risked that revelation and yet he seemed unperturbed.


She didn't know what he was thinking or felt on the inside, but his surface vibe remained casual.


"Can you help me? Constant meditation and a mantra is all I have." She pleaded with a hint of desperation in her voice.


Just because the morning has been pleasant so far didn't mean she forgot why she was traveling in the first place.


Taro dropped his magazine to give her a straight blank look before abruptly standing up and went to a small old drawer and pulled out a book that he tossed at her.


She caught it, taken aback for a bit, looked at the title of the book and leveled him her pending deadpan glare.


"'Mastering Stoicism: The Path to a Calm and Unshaken Mind'." As she read out the title, her voice dropped lower and lower until it was just a bland and frigid sound. "Are you joking?" It was a genuinely curious question. And she hoped he was.


He nodded. A wave of confidence flowed from him. "Gives good poker face."


"I have a good poker face."


"… Gives good poker mind?"


At this point she didn't know if he was having fun at her expense or he was being genuine in his own way.


Just then the bell rang as the door was pushed open to welcome their first customer. A child.


"Morning, Uncle T. Mama said I fell asleep at Ted's party so I missed the closing games." The boy walked through the aisle with an air of familiarity, grabbed a few things off the shelves, returned to Taro who gave him a small sealed package for his mother before he bolted out the door.


"See ya later, Uncle T."


Raven idly watched the whole interaction as her eyes skimmed through the book's first few pages before putting it down, not at all surprised by how useless it was.


Since there was nothing to do, she used the time between customers to organize her thoughts and temper her mind as she prepared for the inevitable departure.


More than ever, the Justice League needed to know what was coming. It was the worst case scenario and yet it only felt inevitable to her. But this time, she'd rather die than let a repeat of Azarath happen here.


Question.


"Hmm?" She raised her head to look at the old man at the counter who was staring straight at her. It was the first strong impression she got from his mind and it was so clear that she might have just heard his voice.


"You want to ask me a question?" She asked, gaining a nod in reply.


"Where to?"


"Metropolis, or Washington." The reply came out natural and she could guess the next question in line. In a way it almost felt like a textbook cutout.


"Why?"


"Doom, Armageddon, Apocalypse. Take your pick." She said evenly, not fully able to hide the sliver of fear as a certain memory flashed across her mind. She didn't doubt he saw it too.


"And the demons?" He asked, mulling over her last words with a casual posture. Either he didn't believe her or didn't believe the scale of her words, she thought bitterly.


Still she answered. "Sent by the followers of an eldritch dimensional evil warlord god to kidnap me for a ritual that will let him come to earth and conquer the planet along with the universe."


It couldn't get more literal than that.


She decided to ask a question of her own before he got the next one in. "How much do you know about demons and the dimension they reside?"


A shake of his head. So nothing huh? She didn't want to think about if he was lying to her. He accommodated her to the fullness of his abilities. That was more than she could ask for.


"Raven." He spoke, it was his first time saying her name. "You alone?"


Ah. So he knew, or suspected. She didn't try to make a call to anyone even after almost dying. It wasn't hard to come to that conclusion.


"They are all gone." She answered. Even to this moment she didn't know whose fault it was. Hers for losing control, or him for wanting her under his control. Whoever the blame laid with, it didn't change the fact that Azarath was gone. Her only home was gone.


She had been looking at the floor when she replied, half drowning in her memory pit and half reigning her emotions to a base.


When she raised her head she saw Taro's towering form in front of her and before she could berate herself for losing sight of his movement, her thoughts froze when he simply wrapped his huge chubby arms around her and pulled her into his embrace.


It was a soothing hug. He was so soft and embracing that even the snuggly pillows he gave her couldn't compare. Well, it was probably because of all the extra mounds of flesh.


Her thoughts slowly came back when she felt him patting her soothingly on the back.


And in that moment, the young child, Raven, never hated her inability to express her emotions as she did in that instance. She couldn't even freely hate the one that put her through all this. She couldn't loathe him from the depths of her soul, because she literally couldn't and she was sure that if she actually could he'd laugh with sickening malice and even encourage her to hate him more.


And that was the tamest vile thing she could think about her father.


When they separated, she almost felt hurt at the poker face she wore as they looked at each other with his hands on her shoulders.


He ruffled her hair and she let him do it because she was fighting the simmering boil in her guts.


"You are not leaving today." He suddenly said, snapping her out of her daze.


She frowned. "Why?"


He looked at her, really looked at her, and gave her his direct blunt words.


"You are a wreck."


She was not surprised by that. She would acknowledge that she was like pieces of a broken mirror blindly glued together to form the façade of being whole.


But Taro didn't stop there. He wanted her to know how close she was to the edge, even if she couldn't tell.


"You are unstable. You are lost. You are desperate." He said unhurriedly, articulating every word so she could see the reasons why.


"You are tying a noose around your neck with the same thread you are hanging on."


She blinked. She understood what he was saying. She knew she was running on fumes and desperation, but she had no choice but to thread on. Only she knew the result if she didn't. She had seen it once, and once was enough.


"Taro…. I don't have a choice. Everything will be meaningless if he finds a way to this dimension." Her voice was so frail like a leaf in the wind that it might as well be a whisper.


Taro looked at her, and while she could finally understand his general feelings on the subject, she had no idea what was going on in his mind.


"How long?" He asked but she shook her head.


"It's not a fixed calendar thing. He will keep trying every now and then to step through. This is just his latest attempt."


He tilted his head in a thoughtful way, a comical look Raven thought, and suddenly exhaled heavily through his nose like a bull and grabbed onto his other hand as he flexed his muscle. Or at least that was the intention behind the gesture.


She was staying until she was no longer a suicidal wreck, his aura told her as much.


"You will rest for now." His voice was back to their fading whisper volume.


What is preventing him from appearing right now?


She sensed the next question he was going to ask and bit her inner lips, unsure of how to answer. As well-meaning as Taro has been so far, she just couldn't bring herself to tell him, who was basically a stranger to her - her benefactor yes, but still a stranger -, what was currently restricting the Devil of Worlds and inadvertently giving him an idea on how to easily release him.


She couldn't tell anyone this except for the Justice League. They were the heroes, earth's strongest, who would rally to fight her father if he ever crossed over.


She looked at him and knew he understood the difficulty she was feeling and yet he remained looking at her silently. Not pressuring, she realized, but just waiting for her decision. All this screamed suspicion and backstabbing.


"You will be in danger if you know. Not just you, but everyone you know as well." She said, trying to dissuade his interest and make him realize the danger he was ignorantly prodding. "That kid this morning, his mother, and everyone from the birthday party – he'll make sure to kill them the first chance he gets."


For a brief moment, Raven thought she saw something, a sharp edge, gleaming off his glasses.