Note: This "kiss" ties in with #20, Path. It will consist of three parts.

30 Kisses Themed Ficlets

Robin/Raven

By Kysra

Theme #29 (the sound of waves): Family

Part I - Trough

They say the first year is always the most difficult. They could not have been more correct.

He proposed to her after an extraordinarily violent battle before she had a chance to get her bearings or even wash the stench of her own sweat and blood from her skin; and she had reacted with the full bite of her inherent cynicism, "You don't want a wife, Robin. You want a mother."

Considering that she was at least partially right in her split-second assessment, she would come to look upon that rebuttal with ironic amusement. After all, it was only days later - on her 17th birthday - that she surprised him (and herself) with an affirmation. She was still trying to figure out the why behind it; but as the years passed, she realized that it didn't really matter all that much.

They married in secret out of respect for Starfire who had left for Tameran a year before and who insisted on attending the "glorious event" despite the hurt it must have caused her - even if it was obvious that what united them was notably not love. Their discussions, between the time of the acceptance and the wedding (a very short, very hectic three weeks), as to the nature of their relationship found them mutually concluding that their union was fueled by simple need. Need for what, they could not begin to fathom, but they agreed rather amiably that there was a pull between them that would drive them both crazy should they be parted.

Perhaps, she often mused now, marriage had been a somewhat radical measure in dealing with their bond. Their "romance," when the wedding became public knowledge three weeks later, was the responsibility of Bruce Wayne. To the world, she had married Richard Grayson, Gotham's favorite son, America's most eligible and desirable bachelor, and everything (including the rabid fan girls) that was attached to him. She was the very center of admirable envy, always a mysterious figure but elevated to legend status for having the gall to snag such a wanted man. According to the papers, she was undeserving for everything from her height to her passion for tea though some sniped unworthiness due to sheer otherness. Superheroes - especially those gifted with supernatural power - should remain with their own. No mixing with civilians allowed.

All things considered, she was infinitely grateful to Robin for allowing his super hero persona to remain single - if only in the public eye. She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if the tabloids had proven Nightwing romantically attached all of a sudden. His fan base was even larger than Richard's.

Added to the negative reaction of the community was the negative energies that erupted nearly as soon as the first box had been moved into their first shared apartment. Getting along had never been a problem for them. Their temperaments were similarly low-key, and they had enough shared pain between them to discourage the creation of unnecessary drama; however, she came to understand that Robin needed laughter in his life to counter the horrors he witnessed in the dark. With Cyborg, Beastboy, and Starfire leading their own lives, Robin had lost his sunshine, and she was a poor substitute. She had not been made to entertain.

As the days passed with the two of them creeping around each other, Robin's frustration became more compressed and internalized without a suitable outlet, and she experienced their relationship breakdown in another way. Even though she had believed she had accepted Robin's proposal, it became apparent rather quickly that she had married Dick Grayson. Robin had left his mask in Jump City, and Nightwing's mistress was Bludhaven. Where the one no longer existed and the other knew no life other than crime fighting, she had no place; and once they were safely moved in together, barely a day passed before she had realized she did not know this man who was suddenly her husband.

To be quite honest, that was probably more her fault than his. She had never probed after his reasons for asking her in the first place, and there was never a moment when her guard wasn't up so that he could ask her why she had accepted. They spoke of many things but never their personal secrets or histories; and the brief few seconds when her mind was tucked inside his when they were younger barely registered in the thin thread of familiarity stretching and fraying between them, the last tatters of their once strong bond.

Soon enough, argument became their favored and only method of communication; and she had been happy, ecstatic even (or as ecstatic as she could get) that they had never consummated their wedding. They hadn't even slept in the same bed in those early days. Yet, they had made a pact - after the first few fights - to never go to bed angry with each other as all it did was leave them with a bad taste in their mouths come morning; because she had been very explicit in explaining to him that she did not believe in this Earth idea called "divorce"; and he was determined to follow through with his vows to protect her, even if it meant protecting her from them.

So, the evenings - between the end of his work day and the beginning of his night patrol, they would sit facing each other, hands clasped, and meditate together. Those few blessed minutes of togetherness were the only time they spent together in any sort of civil capacity for by the time he returned from crimefighting, she was already curled up in bed asleep - finished her own rounds on the other side of town.

What he never knew was that she never fell asleep until she knew his wounds were dressed and he was safely in bed. And she never knew that he would often lay in the dark wondering how he should apologize for all the things that had gone wrong since they became a single unit.

And the days became weeks and the weeks became months with the gossip mongers and tabloids making outrageous claims that she had "bewitched" young Grayson with her magic and feminine wiles, that she was planning on populating the nation with her "kind" in order to dominate humanity. As a result, her husband and father-in-law had felt it wise to issue a public statement decrying the false claims of a few crack magazines with the story of how they had met when she had supposedly rescued Dick from certain death.

That had been a mistake as the focus shifted from her apparent sinful manipulation to his apparent saintliness in marrying her out of gratitude for "saving his life."

One day, four months into their marriage, completely fed up with the idiocy that was the media circus surrounding them, she had - quite accidentally - broken every single dish they owned. Robin - as only she called him still - exhibiting mammoth patience, had tried to reassure her by saying, "Don't worry. In another month, we'll be old news."

And, like a true-blue prophet, he had been eerily correct. In another month, they had ceased to be worthy of attention; though the world had suddenly become completely and utterly consumed with absolute hatred for her. After all, it was bad enough she had somehow managed to bind Dick Grayson in holy and legal matrimony – a true sin against all single womanhood (and some portions of manhood as well) to be sure; it was absolutely devastating that she had the nerve to get pregnant.

And suddenly, everything made sense! This interloper had obviously planned to get in the family way to entrap him, and Grayson, upstanding citizen and bewildered playboy that he was, had done the honorable thing. Never mind that the witch and the Adonis had been married several months before they had even consummated. The tabloids had spoken, and who ever said that all gossip was false gossip?

To be fair, she had been just as shocked and horrified as everyone else. So had Robin . . . well, he had been shocked but not horrified. They had come together one night after a visit with Bruce and Alfred during one of Wayne Enterprises' high class dinners. Neither had imbibed any alcohol as neither had ever seen the charm in it; and given their professions, it probably wasn't the best idea to get even half-way drunk, on duty or no. Still, their rooms had been on the other side of the house, and during the walk, they had talked – really talked – to each other. And suddenly, as he chuckled softly at something she had said, she remembered that they were friends and she had never felt so lonely as she had during the last few months.

It had not been love making. It had not been anything close to just sex. It had been something in between and – somehow – more. It had been like crossing a threshold that neither had known was there; and afterwards, both were unafraid to repeat the action. In their shared bed, they once more felt a ghost of the connection they had seemingly lost but wanted, needed desperately.

Looking back, she was appalled at her behavior; but it had been necessary. The bond they had forged mentally was only one small part of a three-fold process that she was just now beginning to understand. Their physical joining had been the second part.

And the result of that joining, had been a very startling, very unwelcome surprise.

It wasn't that she disliked children, it was that she knew – like she knew her eyes were violet or that she favored Chamomile tea over Earl Grey – motherhood was not meant for her; and despite their then-new physical intimacy, she and her husband were still arguing – actually, the arguing became even worse after the discovery of her 'delicate condition.'

To give Robin credit where it was due, however, he had not commented on whether or not she should keep the baby. She much preferred to believe this was because he knew it was her choice and not because he knew enough about the culture she hailed from to understand that she effectively had no choice. She had been taught to think of all life as sacred and harm done to another was harm done to one's soul, and her soul was her most precious, hard-won possession.

Undecided, she had taken to visiting Alfred daily. He had a soothing kind of presence that spoke of support through silence and ever-ready advice. She had needed his calm wit during the day to counter Robin's fiery temper at night. Under his care and supervision, she had deliberated on the fate of her child; and at some point, she began to wonder if her mother had gone through a similar trial once pregnant for her.

Surely, she had mused, my mother must have wanted to be rid of me. And though she knew that her mother had probably kept her for nothing save fear of reprisals, she also knew that her mother had loved her from the moment of her birth. It was something imprinted on her living skin, a testament of her mother's raw affection and hope. Her mentor once told her of how her mother had reached for her blood and fluid covered infant body and wept bitterly when the silent plea was refuted. Being denied the right to hold your own child . . . it was something she knew her mother had never forgotten nor forgiven.

But where the one had wanted family more than anything and was granted that wish through the greatest of follies and the most awful of consequences, she had wanted none of it but had careened recklessly into all of it. And the more she thought of her mother, the more she realized that this baby might be a poorly wrapped gift. Here was something potentially beautiful to offset the ugliness of her prior life; and as she became more resigned and (sometimes) excited at the prospect before her, the less she had the will to fight with her husband. It only put a strain on her already thinning emotions.

However, there was one issue on which she would not budge no matter how hard and how bitterly they fought each other, and it very nearly cost them their marriage.

It all started when she had mentioned, quite casually, that they had better begin making plans to convert the spare bedroom – formerly hers – into a birthing chamber. Seeing his stonewall face, she immediately explained that in her world it was customary for a woman to give birth alone, in the bed the child was created in. Symmetry, connections, these were lauded in the land of her own birth. Therefore, she was hurt and angry that he had been so stubborn in denying this tradition. After their fifth argument on this same issue, she had finally had enough of all the distress Robin, their marriage, and the breakdown of their friendship – whatever was left of it – was causing her, and while he was away lurking in the dark of the city and itching for a fight, she packed an overnight bag and took a cab to Wayne Manor.

Purposefully, she had neglected to leave her husband a note as she had nothing to say to him. At that point, she had been six months along, they had just celebrated their first wedding anniversary (though there was notably no celebration), and she was ready to simply give up.

To be continued . . .