A/N:

Hi! c:

Welcome back and I hope you enjoy!

Sorry for any typos, aha. It went through workshop, edits, and then my eyes melted out my sockets and I figured it was time.

16. Half-Lit Dreams and Demon Things

"I wonder how much of the day I spend just callin' after you."

― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

For two months, there was silence.

Sometimes, Red dreamt that there was a door that connected his consciousness to Raven's. Sometimes he dreamt that she sought him out for her books — those dreams always ended with him waking up frustrated and sweating. Sometimes, he dreamt that she returned only to arrest him — those dreams also ended with Red jerking awake in a heated dissatisfaction.

There were other times he dreamt of Raven reading on his couch while he was sprawled out beside her, without his mask and relaxed, watching a morning cartoon in the flickering sunlight. Those were the worst ones.

This time, his dream took him to a floating slab of rock in a dark sky of red stars. There was a brief sense of nostalgia — but then he saw the crow with four red eyes and he knew with the quickening rate of his pulse that this wasn't a dream.

We're still connected.

Two months of silence and he was finally allowed in, or he slipped in, or by whatever fuck-up of the universe, he was given another chance to see her again.

There was a surge of an eager relief in his chest, a sighing in his shoulders that said, yes, yes, I have waited so long — but then he saw Rage appear from behind the blackened bark of the tree at the center of the rock, and she brought with her the fear that this demon part was more interested in him than Raven herself.

He was now suddenly aware and uneasy at how swiftly the delight and relief had arrived with the thought of possibly seeing Raven.

Rage tilted her head. "I thought you'd be happy to see me," she said.

"I'm pretty sure seeing you constitutes as a bad omen," Red said, his voice steady despite the tumultuous way his stomach was jumping.

Rage stepped toward him. Her hips swayed. His mouth was dry. There was an anguished, longing noise knotted in the base of his throat, but he forced it down, thinking that he could at least control this much.

She stopped in front of him — too close, too close, too fucking close.

Her hands pressed against his chest, slowly sliding up toward his shoulders and pushing him back against the door behind him. One hand gripped the back of his tense neck, and Jesus, fuck, this wasn't fair, this wasn't fucking fair.

"Wait —"

She settled her thighs around his leg. "How could this be a bad omen?"

He had been trying to subdue the gasping space that had grown long and large, gasping for something he couldn't possibly give, but no matter how many times he said no, it was still breathless and parched for her laughter, for her touch. He had finally understood that, perhaps, this was an aching that would stay in him for a long, long time, and he was coming to terms with the dreams, the nightmares, the feeling that his arms were always resounding with emptiness, that his world had shifted back out of place — and then, this piece of Raven that was not truly Raven returned to unsettle him, to undo all the threads he had haphazardly woven back together.

Was she even aware? Or was this all Rage's doing?

Which part of her was tormenting him?

"Are you scared?" she whispered.

He was lonely, and desperate, and cornered, and thrumming — and he was scared, too; not of her, but of what this meant, of what had been planted in him, of what he had continued to cultivate even after she had left.

Rage kissed his jaw. Her hot breath caressing his skin felt real, or maybe he just wanted it to be. She gripped his shoulders for support and jumped to hook her legs around his waist. He grabbed the back of her thighs to steady her.

She pressed firmly against his growing hard-on. Red let out a low groan of approval. He had dreamt of this, he had wanted this, and it was happening, in an odd sort of way — but this odd sort of way was temptingly sufficient, so Red let his hands slowly slide against the curve of her thighs in response.

He hesitated.

"Can Raven…? Are you…?" He let the question drift, prickles of embarrassment and shame jabbing him in the back of his mind.

Rage smiled. "We are only one when it suits her."

"I don't know what that means," he said.

"It means," — she nipped at his ear — "that this is our little secret. For now."

Before he could form a question that encompassed the budding sense of uneasy guilt, Rage pressed her mouth against his.

Every circuit in his brain fried. Every nerve beneath his skin burst with light and fire. He didn't know if he had willingly parted his lips or if she had coaxed it open with her teeth, but her tongue dragged against his and he couldn't remember why he had thought this would be a bad idea. Her hands were fierce against his skin, under his shirt, and his were just as feverish, searching for the places in her curves that arched her back.

She moaned his name into his mouth — not, X, but Red.

This wasn't Raven, he thought, yet it was — but she would never call him that.

He was pulled back to the four-eyed Raven in his arms, to the black door he had seen in his dreams and the back sky he had seen in his memories, and the thought that this was a bad idea came rushing back to him.

Then, her heated mouth moved to the base of his neck and he didn't think it mattered anymore, Raven or not. This gasping space would take any sliver of her offered, any piece, even the demon part.

"Red," she sighed, and despite the edge and the anger, it was Raven's voice, it was Raven's voice, and he didn't know how to take it, conflicted between distant reality and shadowed dreams. "Red —"

"Stop it, Rage."

The voice was sharp and crisp, the sound of a branch breaking beneath pressure. The same dissatisfied longing came crashing back as they broke apart. He felt a newfound shame.

Rage gazed behind her. He followed her eyes to the two Raven's standing at the base of the tree, one dressed in yellow and the other dressed in grey.

Rage didn't undo her grip. She held onto him still, leaning her head beneath his chin while he held her up against his waist.

"Leave him alone," the yellow Raven said.

After another second's deliberation, Rage unwound her arms and legs from around Red and settled herself back onto the ground. She walked toward the other two Raven's, but she disappeared before reaching them.

Red leaned back against the door, sighing. He didn't know if it was from disappointment or relief.

"You give in too easily."

He glanced up. It was the yellow one that had spoken. The grey one stood behind her, peering at him from beneath long and demure lashes.

"Yeah, well, you're hard to resist." His hands were still buzzing with the feel of her, both yearning and miserable.

"Are you trying to?" she asked.

"Yes."

— And he was, but everything was harder at night with the curve of her body still imprinted against his mattress and her laughter still echoing in the corners of his mind.

She had called out to him once before in darkness. He couldn't help but wait for her to call out to him again in these same lingering shadows.

"You should go," the yellow Raven said. "We haven't properly meditated."

It was another phrase that he didn't understand, but he still said, "Oh," and turned around. He twisted the silver knob open. A gentle, orange glow greeted him on the other side.

Red stepped through the door and looked back (he was always looking behind him, it seemed). The door closed slowly, blocking them from view with each inch. They gazed at him, one stoic behind black spectacles and the other timid under a grey hood.

Something weighed on his tongue — maybe how are you or have you eaten or I miss you, I miss you — but he instead sent back, "Sorry," into the space just as the door closed. He stood, staring at the wood that was blue on his side, a quiet flutter of breath flickering and shivering against something unnamed in his heavy diaphragm, even after he had awoken.

The dream-not-dream had been four days ago.

Nothing had happened afterward. He had lay awake staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours before falling back to sleep, doused in darkness. The following days, he slept with a buzzing in his skin and a throbbing in his chest, but after the third day of silence, he once again set about relearning how to be okay with the gasping space.

On the fourth day, he had received a text message from an old contact, asking to meet up at a cafe. Even as he sat waiting in the patio of La Belle Vie, he was still hearing Raven faintly laughing in the air.

Red didn't know what he was holding onto or why. He wasn't normally optimistic. He had never expected her to stay with him, and she had told him on that last night that she wouldn't return, but he still searched the night sky every time he left his apartment, and he still kept the Van Gogh book on his coffee table.

Her voice was still on the wind.

Someone smacked the back of his head.

"What the hell?"

Red looked up, scowling, and saw the telltale pink hair of Jinx as she took the seat across from his. She was dressed in black with deep purple lace and platform boots to further emphasize the fact that she was already towering over many. Her pink hair, normally done up like two devilish horns, was smoothed into a single, high ponytail.

Jinx grinned. "Hey, dum-dum," she said. Grabbing his glass, she sipped from it loudly through the straw. "Didn't even hear me coming? You're losing your touch."

He rolled his eyes. "I was thinking."

"Oh?" she crooned. "That's new."

"Clever."

The last time he had received a text from her was eight months ago, and the last time they had lunch was about fourteen months ago. They used to be contacts when she was on his side of the law, frequenting dinners and lunches every blue moon when things were quiet.

Now that she sported a badge, though, their meetings dwindled, which was fine. They had never been friends, simply contacts in the same area. Being ex-contacts didn't change anything of their relationship — because there wasn't a relationship.

Just ex-contacts randomly having lunch.

Red waved the waitress back. "Where'd you disappear to this time? It's been a while."

"I was —" Jinx paused for the waitress to take their order and disappear through the glass doors before continuing. "I've been on a top secret, above classified, nonexistent mission." She leaned forward on the table, grinning excitedly at him. The sunlight beamed overhead, lighting up fresh cuts on her cheeks and hands, but these were signs that the other person looked much worse.

"Well," he said, "then you have my non-congratulations."

"I will accept it." Jinx sat back, eyes still glowing from wherever it was she had been sent and whatever it was she had done.

"You just get back into town then?"

"About a week ago," she said. "I slept for two days and then caught up with some of the Titans."

"Mhm," Red hummed noncommittally.

"That's all you're going to say?"

The waitress returned, setting a glass down in front of Jinx. Rather than open another straw, she drank the rest of his and placed his straw in her new cup and started the process over. He glared at her, having to once again flag the waitress down.

When she refilled his drink, gave a new straw, and left again, Jinx said, "Well?"

"'Well, what?" he asked.

She tilted her head and raised her brows. "I'm giving you an opportunity to come clean, Red."

He scratched his cheek, looking at the sky as if he were searching through his memories and coming up empty. "Hmm. Nope. Nothing to tell. My soul has been pure while you've been gone."

She snorted.

"Actually, I've been extra good," he continued. "Trying to get on Santa's nice list this year."

"And kidnapping Raven helped you how?"

Red choked on his drink. There was a sharp stabbing in his side at the words.

He glanced around the patio of the restaurant. In the corner, toward the entrance that led back into the restaurant, was an old man reading the newspaper; on the other side was a mom with two rowdy boys sparring with spoons and a third one in a high chair. No one seemed to be paying attention to him or Jinx.

"I didn't — I didn't kidnap her. Jesus. Is that what she's saying?"

Jinx stared at him curiously. He tried not to let anything too incriminating show, tucking away the late night dreams of her, but he couldn't hide his annoyance and shock. She couldn't have come up with something better than a felony?

"That's what Robin's saying," Jinx said finally. "He's put a hit on you to all the Titans."

"What, you meant I didn't already have a hit on me after stealing his suit?" Red scoffed.

"Not like this you didn't," she remarked. "Anyway, I thought you knew. They said you haven't been active lately. Thought that meant that you were trying to lay low."

He did a heist half a week after Raven had left his apartment. It had been quick and simple, an in-and-out type of museum job. After that, though, he decided it was best to keep off their radar for a while. Red knew that there would be ramifications for saving Raven, even if he hadn't seen his name on the news and hadn't seen Robin publicly condemning him for his actions. It was probably that they didn't want to tell the world that someone had kidnapped the all-powerful half-demon of the Teen Titans — even if he hadn't kidnapped her, but better to be safe than sorry. Now that he had Jinx's information, though, it seemed that he had chosen correctly.

"What happened then?" Jinx asked.

"I saved her ungrateful, grumpy ass," he explained. "Saw her fall off a three-story building into some trashcans as I was passing by."

"You were just passing by?"

Red shrugged. "I mean, yeah, passing by to watch her fall off the building. Who in their right mind wouldn't, Jinx?"

"You didn't push her?"

His mouth went slack.

She had asked it in the same tone of someone who was surprised that another had strayed from their usual routine — "Oh, you haven't eaten your dinner yet? But you're normally like clockwork," —"Oh, you didn't push her off the roof to her potential death? But you normally get at least one in by this time."

"Jinx, what the fuck."

"I didn't mean it like that. I would've asked you either way."

If she had been on his side of the law during this situation, would she have asked him still? Or was the other side changing her? Did she look at him now, without his mask on in the middle of the day, and still see the skull face and the red X?

Did it matter?

He didn't have friends. He only had clients that paid him, contacts for information and jobs, and one ex-contact in particular that he sometimes had lunch with, but…

But people changed, priorities shifted, circumstances evolved. They had never explicitly defined their relationship, but he had, sort of, always thought that he would be exempt from whatever it was that was changing her, that their ex-contacts status would remain unmoved.

Then again, if they had never defined anything, and if she lived, fought, and ate with people who saw the X on his skull as a bullseye, why wouldn't she come to see it that way, too?

Jinx interrupted his thoughts, saying, "Red, I would've asked you anyway."

"…Yeah."

He thought he could imagine her asking with a mean grin if the situation were different, but there was still a discomfort in his chest he couldn't ignore, and he couldn't quite blame her for it either.

In his silence, she continued. "So, you saved her. And then what happened? You just had a comatose Teen Titan in your bed for a little over three weeks?"

"Alright! Food's here!"

The two of them pulled back from how closely they were leaning toward each other, trying to keep the conversation soft and private. The waitress set down a large, stacked burger with extra cheese and sweet potato fries in front of him, and a small salad and vegan pasta in front of Jinx.

"Can I get y'all anything else?" the waitress asked.

"No, ma'am," he said, smiling. "We're good here. Thanks."

When she left, Red flattened his sandwich with his palm, smashing it to a smaller size and squeezing out the grease, ketchup, and mayonnaise. He cut it in half, knowing that Jinx would want a piece later. She tried to eat healthy, but she was a junk food lover at heart.

He bit into his burger, hoping that, with the arrival of the food, the conversation would end. Jinx, however, was still staring at him intensely as she stirred her pasta. He was content eating in silence, but Jinx would never allow it, not when there was something she wanted.

She frowned. "Why won't you tell me anything?"

"What are you so curious for?" Red asked, shrugging. "It's not a big deal. I saved her, she was in a coma, I let her go, yada yada, the end."

"Okay, but —"

"You haven't even touched your food, amuleto."

"Red —"

He sighed in loud exasperation. "It's a good burger, Jinx. Let me enjoy it for the love of all that is sacred and holy. Jesus Christ."

"You are the most annoying, dramatic assh —"

Red noisily chomped on his sandwich, groaning out noises of vulgar pleasure with no embarrassment. The old man in the corner glared at them, gathering his papers and leaving. Jinx muttered something offensive under her breath, but she took Red's hint and slowly ate her food.

They chewed in silence. He didn't feel bad for shutting her down. He didn't think she was trying to get information out of him for the Titans (ex-contacts or not), but stating the events out loud, from his perspective, felt different than just perusing through the memories. It felt more final, like things would solidify. Red didn't know how to talk about what had happened without talking about what had happened to him. There were things he had said in the fog and mist of their dreams, things that were still being murmured softly at the back of his head, that he wasn't ready to say aloud.

"I'm on your side," Jinx told him abruptly.

The back of his neck grew warm.

"You don't believe me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I believe you."

"You sure?" she pressed. "Not calling me a defector behind my back?"

Red rolled his eyes. "Who's the dramatic one now? I'd call you defector to your face, defector."

"That's not why you're not telling me, right? Because I left?"

"We're not even friends," Red complained. "No need to be so uptight about this."

"Red," she snapped.

He glanced at her. She was looking at him, her face stoic save for the clenched jaw. While Red had made it a personality trait to avoid gazes and talks and reality, Jinx didn't often look away. He liked that she would stare straight into the black hole, searching for eldritch tendrils or the faint glow of eaten stars.

"No, that's not why," Red answered, sighing. Her shoulders relaxed subtly. "There's nothing much to tell. At least, not right now."

Jinx tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes slightly. He didn't meet her stare, observing the cracks in the metal table instead, but she seemed to have heard the plea in between his words, that maybe he'd tell her little later.

"Okay." Jinx returned to picking at her food.

"Why do you even try?" He sighed and pushed his plate toward her.

She grabbed the other half of the flattened burger without hesitation. "Strength and conditioning training is a bitch," she remarked. "I can't eat like you. Not all of us have teleportation belts."

"Ouch, that was rude," he said. "I do my own stunts, too, alright?"

She wasn't listening, too busy with trying to shove as much of the burger into her mouth as she could.

They talked vaguely about her mission. She was unable to say much, but Red could see that she was excited to talk about whatever much she could reveal. Whatever she had done, she had done well, judging by the way her eyes lit up wildly on the subject and the subconscious scratching at the cut on her cheek. He asked her about her boyfriend, if they were doing well; they were looking for an apartment together in midtown, and he offered to keep his ear to the ground for any special deals, as he had several contacts in that area. Jinx asked if he had found anyone special, and he was positive by the way she raised her brows in mock innocence that she was trying her wily best to dig more information on Raven. Her sense of intuition for a not-friend old contact was unfortunately sharp, but he had told her that he was a selfish bachelor at heart and hoped it would be the end of that.

— But, since he was dangling around the topic of Raven anyway (not that Jinx needed to know that this had been a topic about her), he went ahead and asked, "So, how is she?"

"How's who?"

Red cleared his throat, saying, "Raven," in the most neutral tone he could and knowing that there was no way to say her name without threads of longing entangled between the vowels.

Finishing the burger, Jinx wiped her mouth with the napkin and then proceeded to pick at his fries. "I haven't seen her yet," she said, "but Wally says she seems the same. No PTSD or anything, unless she's that good at hiding it."

"Gee, thanks."

"Ugh, sensitive," she grumbled. "You know what I mean."

He didn't doubt that Raven was good at hiding her secrets and scars, but he hoped he hadn't traumatized her — at least, not in the latter half of her time with him. He cringed inwardly, thinking of some of the things he had said to her in the beginning to get under her skin.

"Red."

"Yeah, wassup?"

"Did you make it personal?"

"Nope." He sipped his drink.

Jinx blinked at him, her eyes betraying the whirring gears in her head. "Do you think your answer would've changed if I didn't defect?"

It was actually a sensitive topic for her, wasn't it? Perhaps she was lonely, too, having people on both sides eye her as if she were a double-crosser.

"It's a joke, you know," Red said. "Defecting. The better word is — change, maybe. Adjustment? Survival? Betterment? Take your pick."

Jinx snorted, stirring her soup. "I pick defecting. It's what it is, even if it was for survival or change or whatever pretty word you want to pick."

"Who's the one being dramatic now?" Red chuckled. "It doesn't matter. Vigilante hero, handsome thief — we do what we have to in order to survive or to go home not feeling the impending doom that none of this matters and all of this is arbitrary." He shrugged, adding on, "Can't fault you for that."

"Yeah, you're still the dramatic one, Red." But she didn't hide the smile as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand, picking at another fry. "That's nice of you to say, though, for someone who's not my friend."

He didn't respond.

That was another thing he liked, he supposed, that she would describe their relationship differently than he.

"Actually," Jinx continued, "Cyborg thinks Raven's a little too well-adjusted. They're surprised by it."

"By her strength?"

"Or your mercy," she clarified. "Or compassion."

"Fucking hell — she was in a coma! What do you people think I am?"

For Christ's sake, he had a catchphrase — what was the point of slinging that every encounter if no one was going to listen?

"She was vulnerable," Jinx corrected. "Better men have done more with less. And anyway, that's not what I meant —"

"Can you let them know that I'm not a damn monster," he muttered, interrupting her. "I just like mone —"

An explosion suddenly threw tables, debris, and dust into the air, cutting Red off mid-sentence. Red and Jinx were sent tumbling to the ground by the force of the explosion. Their table crashed on top of Red, fries tumbling onto his lap. The glass cups and ceramic plates smashed to the ground, jagged pieces surrounding him as he tried to get his bearings on the situation.

"Jinx! You alright?" he called.

"Fine!" she said. She was still nearby by the sound of her voice. As the dust settled, he saw her pink ponytail.

"What the hell was that?" Red tried to push up off the ground, but swore painfully as pieces of glass dug into his palm.

Jinx was already on her feet. She pushed the table off Red and gripped his arm, hosting him up. "Whatever it was, it sounds like it's coming this way."

People screamed and ran down the street, glancing back at something the two of them couldn't see yet. Most of them were uninjured, but there were a few that were bleeding from cuts above the eyes or were gripping their arms as they ran.

Jinx instantly turned and checked for the family that had been eating behind them, but the space was empty and clear of food; they must've left earlier on without either of them noticing.

"You've got your uniform?" Jinx asked.

Red pulled off his hoodie, revealing the suit beneath and the belt already attached. From his hoodie's zipped pocket, he pulled out the gloves and the mask.

"Good."

He pointed down the street behind him. "I would like to suggest that we actually run in the opposite direction, Jinx."

She shook her head. "Being a hero comes with a stricter set of rules, Red."

A creature appeared on the roof of the bank across from them. It looked dog-like; it had the wide torso and the square snout, but it also had two extra legs tucked behind its front legs and four red eyes.

Red had seen these creatures, nicknamed Hellhounds, featured on the news the past few weeks for wreaking havoc on Jump City. No one knew where they came from or what they wanted; they showed up randomly in all parts of the city, terrorizing the town until they were destroyed. From personal experience, he knew that they were demons, but that was about as far as it went.

"Now's about time to regain your love for breaking rules, Jinx," he remarked.

They had first appeared around the same time Red had taken the jewel out of the safe to analyze it. It had lit up his apartment in a sapphire glow like a light, or a signal, and he hadn't pulled it out since then.

The Hellhound opened its mouth and a golden ball of energy was created and charging before its maw. Within seconds, it grew to the size of a basketball, and then it was searing through heated air, hurling toward them.

"Watch out!" Jinx yelled.

Red jumped over the metal fence and vaulted over the black SUV parked against the curb. He slid down its side and used it as a shield just as the blast hit the restaurant patio, shattering the windows and walls and pulsing chairs, metal, and silverware into the air.

As the dust and debris settled, Red slipped the mask over his head and the gloves onto his hands. Once all the pieces were connected, he felt a brief, low hum of his suit linking all parts together.

He peered out from behind the car. What was once the patio of La Belle Vie was now a crater with broken pieces of wood and metal covering it. He looked over to the building where the dog demon stood; another one had joined it. On ground level, the low crunch of feet against rubble echoed on the emptying street — two more Hellhounds growled and snarled as they stepped through the clearing smoke, one sniffing the air for unfortunate stragglers.

Me and Jinx. He groaned.

Before he could plot out their escape route, Jinx jumped on top of the car that had shielded her from the blast and sliced her hands through the air, sending bursts of pink energy at the creatures on the roof and on the streets. The two on the roof disappeared, escaping the pink energy that crackled decimated the bank. The two on the ground had dodged her attack, bursting through the dust to take her by surprise.

"Jinx!" Red dashed toward her.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eyes — "Shit!" Red flipped backward, avoiding a blast of gold energy. Just as he landed, there was a snapping of slobber and teeth. He ducked and pulled back a fist, punching the creature underneath its jaw. It howled and jerked backward from the force of his attack, but then another took its place and there was no moment to breathe.

He dove to the ground, dodging another attempted bite. He shot shurikens when they sidestepped him and explosive pellets to kick up dust and rubble when they tried to charge up their blast attack. Snarling, they lunged forward, mouths snapping shut with a resounding clap of fangs.

"Bad fucking dog!" he yelled, bringing a swinging kick down onto its head.

Red pulled several more metal balls from his belt and scattered them at the Hellhounds. He jumped out of the blast range as the area lit up with small and powerful blasts. On the other side of the street, Jinx spun in the air, slashing bursts of pink currents toward the demons. He reassured himself that she was handling it and turned back to the dissipating smoke before him, a second too late.

Red was knocked off his feet, hitting the ground with a painful gasp when a solid body smacked him in the chest. Sharp rubble dug into his back, but there was no opportunity to roll off. The Hellhound lunged at Red, teeth biting air centimeters from his face, blocked by Red's arms pushing against its broad neck.

It thrashed against his arms, trying push through. He felt his strength waning, disadvantaged in a battle of raw strength with a demon dog — fuck, fuck, fuck.

He couldn't reach his belt. If he moved one arm he wouldn't be able to keep the dog back. Jinx sent blasts his way to keep the second one from getting close, but how long could she keep that up, fighting one on three?

So close to its mouth, he could smell the moist decay, hot even against the protection of his mask.

"Red!"

"A little goddamn busy here!"

With a frustrated yell, he forced the neck back a few inches, just enough for him to pull his legs under it and kick its torso, forcing it far enough that it gave him a second's opportunity to jump to his feet.

Before it reoriented itself, Red charged forward and vaulted over it, pressing his palm flat against its shoulder. When he pulled away, a red, sticky goo followed. The creature roared and attempted to bite him mid-air, but Red twisted and sidestepped it to the wall where he pressed his hand against the brick. Instantly, the creature was pulled by the force of the adhesive. It slammed against the side of the building with a pained yelp.

Red flipped upward, dodging an attempted attack by the second demon, and then flipped again to avoid a stray pink burst of energy.

He threw out two handfuls of explosive pellets at the top of the building, emptying out whatever was left in his belt. The explosion knocked heavy concrete and brick debris atop the trapped creature. The falling wreckage pummeled it into the walkway; there was a whimpering sigh as it faded.

When Red turned to check on Jinx, briefly facing away from the Hellhound, another burst of pink energy flew his way. He jumped backward, barely dodging it.

"Are you aiming for me or the demon dog, goddamn!"

"You, idiot!" She was fighting against one Hellhound, having killed the other one already. Her bursts of pink energy smashed against golden blasts midair, shooting dust and heat into the area. She turned and sent another blast toward the dog that was preparing to pounce on Red, shifting its attention to her. It snarled and rushed toward Jinx.

"Get out of here!" she yelled.

"What?"

With an annoyed growl, Jinx turned toward him, her eyes glowing a bright pink. No energy was sent his way, but the ground suddenly cracked and split open, forcing him to step backward and away from the edge. "Go!"

"I'm not leaving you alone!" He prepared to teleport himself over to the other side.

She sent several waves of blasts toward Hellhounds. Buildings crumbled and crashed. Streaks of pink crackled through the air. When she turned to look at him, she was dirty and bleeding, but her eyes were radiant and defiant.

"I'll be okay," she said.

And he felt it, something snapping in him, the cracking sound like the soft fracture of a flower stem.

He suddenly felt so far from her.

Maybe it was idealistic or naive to think that he could still hold onto her while she was on the other side, or that she could hold onto him, or that she would, when he wouldn't even admit that they were anything more.

Colored in bright light as she was, why would she ever return to the graying shadows?

Another eruption of deep, fuchsia electricity sparkled in the area, pulling him out of his head.

"Red! The Titans are on their way. I can hold off these stupid dogs until then, so you need to get out of here!" As if to prove her point, she sent another wave at the dogs, disrupting one's golden blast and knocking the other from charging at her.

Red swallowed his pride and a swear and reached for his belt.

"Text me when you get home!" she called.

"Text me that you survived!" he yelled back.

A shadow swooped overhead. He looked up, seeing a green pterodactyl transform midair into a falling gorilla; following him was a red-headed alien, her fists glowing green.

Red dove into the alleyway, pressing against the wall.

In the sky, he saw Raven, pausing in the air and looking around for something — someone?

Could she sense him?

He ignored the pull in his chest and teleported across town.

A/N:

ALRIGHT. That's another up.

See y'all soon!