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Robin ran after Blade, his voice carrying a mix of tension and regret.
Robin: "Wait! I didn't mean it like that! I wasn't trying to belittle what you've been through!"
But Blade wasn't listening. The rage boiling in his chest was stronger than any logic, stronger than any words Robin could say. His steps were steady, unwavering—until he felt a hand grip his arm tightly.
Robin: "Stop acting like you're alone in this world!"
In a flash, Blade spun around violently. Without hesitation, he snapped Robin's arm, then grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground. And with the same brutal force as before, he smashed his head into the ground again—this time, the cracks beneath Robin widened, spreading like a spiderweb of destruction!
Everyone froze. The situation had spiraled completely out of control. Starfire stood still, unable to move, while Raven stared at Blade in silent shock. Even Beast Boy and Cyborg, who always had a joke ready, could only watch in stunned silence.
Blade, his voice cold and devoid of emotion, looked down at Robin lying motionless on the ground.
Blade: "Don't f***ing touch me."
He slowly lifted his head, turning toward Raven, who was still staring at him, her eyes filled with something she rarely showed—uncertainty. For a brief moment, something flickered in his gaze... something like regret, but buried deep beneath layers of rage and exhaustion.
Blade spoke quietly, almost like he was whispering to himself rather than addressing her.
Blade: "This isn't where I'm supposed to be."
Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the exit.
Raven felt a strange tightness in her chest. It wasn't just Blade's anger—it was the pain in his eyes before he turned away. A pain she recognized all too well, as if she were staring into a reflection of her own past.
She glanced at Robin, who was struggling to stand, placing a hand on her hip as her voice carried both reprimand and concern.
Raven: "You shouldn't have said that, Robin."
Robin, despite his pain, wasn't angry. Instead, he looked as though he was finally grasping the weight of his words. But he had no time to respond—Raven had already moved, searching for Blade.
But... he was gone.
Vanished.
She scanned in every direction, trying to sense his energy, but Blade was too damn good at disappearing. Maybe even better than she had realized. She stood there for a moment, an unfamiliar worry creeping into her mind. He wasn't just a teammate. He wasn't just some passing stranger. He was... different.
Letting out a slow breath, she lowered her head slightly and muttered to herself.
Raven: "Where the hell did you run off to this time, you f***ing clown?"
Then, melting into the shadows, she set off to find him—no matter how long it took.
The night had begun to settle over the city, its dark veil stretching across the skyline. The dim streetlights cast long, wavering shadows across the towering buildings. Raven floated quietly above the alleys and streets, her sharp eyes scanning for any sign of Blade.
But there was nothing.
Until she remembered.
That place...
The one where she had taken him. Where they had sat together. Where he had let her see a glimpse of his past.
The place that overlooked the entire city.
Without hesitation, she changed her course, gliding toward the location, deliberately slowing her speed so he wouldn't sense her presence. As she approached, a strange sound reached her ears—not the wind, not the distant hum of the city—but the sharp, violent impact of something slamming into stone.
She hid in the shadows and looked down... and there he was.
Blade stood before the massive stone wall, his fist crashing into it over and over again.
"F** you... F*** you... F*** you!"*
He struck the wall again. And again.
"I didn't ask for this... I didn't ask for any of this bulls**!"*
His knuckles were bloodied, but they healed quickly, as if his body refused to let him feel weak, even if he wanted to. But the anger in his eyes... it was different. It wasn't just rage—it was a fracture. A storm of emotions he had been suppressing for too long, now breaking free.
Raven didn't move. She simply watched in silence, her heart pounding—not out of fear, but because of what she was witnessing.
This wasn't Blade the joker.
Not Blade the sarcastic bastard who never shut up.
This was someone who had lost too much—more than he could bear.
Blade lifted his head for a moment, gazing down at the glowing city beneath him, then spat on the ground, as if he despised everything before him. Slowly, he turned, leaning against the wall, exhaling sharply as he ran a hand down his face.
Then he laughed.
Laughed?!
But it wasn't his usual laugh. It was short, unhinged, dripping with mockery and bitterness. And then he whispered, as if speaking only to himself:
"F** this world... and f*** me for not being able to leave it."*
Raven decided she had seen enough.
She stepped forward, emerging from the shadows, moving toward him without saying a word.
Blade didn't turn to look at her. He just sighed slowly, as if he had sensed her presence before even seeing her. Then, in a low voice, one completely devoid of sarcasm, he muttered:
"You came looking for me, huh?"
Raven didn't answer right away. She simply stood beside him, glancing at the wall he had been pounding, then down at his fists—still bloodstained before quickly healing again. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but carried absolute seriousness:
"You can't punch your problems away."
Blade smirked bitterly but didn't look at her. He just leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath.
For a long moment, he remained like that—pressed against the stone, his eyes shut, as if trying to contain everything inside him. But when he finally spoke, his voice was different.
It wasn't laced with his usual sarcasm.
It wasn't even angry.
It was the voice of someone exhausted. Someone who had carried far too much for far too long.
"Do you know why I used to kill? Why I worked as a mercenary? Why I did all of it?"
Raven didn't respond. She simply waited in silence. Because she knew… what he was about to say wasn't for anyone else.
It was for her.
"Because I wanted to go back to them. Or at least… reach them."
He opened his eyes, staring at the city once more—not with amusement, not with madness—but with the hollow gaze of someone who had lost something they could never get back.
"I killed. I fought. I threw myself into the bloodiest battles. I wanted power, money, influence… not for control, not for fun… but because I thought—"
His voice grew quieter.
"—if I became strong enough… I could see them again."
He moved his hand slightly, glancing at it as if remembering the feeling of a larger hand holding his—a sensation that now existed only in his memories.
"My family, Raven... When I was a kid, I had a father. A mother. A home. A life."
His voice was steady, but there was something raw underneath. A wound that never truly healed.
"But in a war that had nothing to do with me, between so-called heroes and villains fighting over their stupid ideals... I lost them forever. And I suffered for it. I suffered more than I thought possible."
His lips pressed together for a moment, as if holding himself back, as if refusing to let the emotions take control. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he continued:
"I thought that if I became strong enough, if I made enough money, if I took on mission after impossible mission, there would come a day... a day where I could reach them somehow. Or find a power, or magic, or anything that would let me see them again. Hell, I even welcomed death if it meant a chance."
He laughed again. But this time, it was an empty, hollow sound. The laugh of someone who had grown to hate the entire world.
"But those f**ing gods... they gave me another chance. Just not the one I wanted."*
For the first time, he turned fully to look at Raven, his eyes searching hers for something—understanding? Judgment? Would she see him as pathetic? Would she think he was just another lunatic clinging to the past?
"They rebuilt me. In a different world. A new life, a new body... but without the one thing I actually wanted."
His gaze shifted upward, to the vast sky above. He exhaled slowly before speaking again, his voice carrying a pain so deep it could never be put into words.
"Can you imagine it? Spending your whole life reaching for something… only for them to rip it away from you forever?"
Raven didn't respond immediately. Because, for the first time, she wasn't looking at Blade as a clown, a smartass, or a reckless mercenary.
She was looking at him as a broken man.
A man who had lost everything… yet was still here. Still breathing. Still smiling, even if that smile was just another mask.
She stood there, floating quietly beside him, her violet eyes holding more than words ever could. No sarcasm. No dismissiveness. Just a moment of silent understanding between two lost souls.
"You know…" she finally said, her voice soft, almost a whisper.
Blade didn't turn to look at her. He kept his eyes fixed on the city below. But he listened.
"I've always felt like my fate was never mine to decide. From the moment I was born, I was just a piece in someone else's plan—something I never chose, something I never wanted to be a part of."
A sad, bitter smile tugged at her lips.
"I was just a child. But everyone treated me like a ticking time bomb, a monster waiting to happen. Like I was supposed to be evil just because… that's what was written for me."
Blade finally turned to face her, crossing his arms but staying silent. For once, he wanted to listen. For once, he wanted to know more about her—not as "Raven," the girl everyone thought they understood, but as the person standing before him.
"But over time, I realized something… We don't have to be what they want us to be. We don't have to be defined by our past, or by gods, or by anything else. We carve our own path. Even if it hurts. Even if the darkness surrounds us."
Her violet eyes locked onto his, steady and unwavering, as if trying to make him see something he hadn't yet realized.
"You're here now, Blade. You have a chance you never had before. Maybe this isn't the world you wanted… but it's the world you have."
A pause.
Then, with quiet conviction, she asked:
"The real question is… what are you going to do with it?"
Blade remained silent for a moment. He wasn't the type for deep conversations—he preferred sarcasm, deflecting heavy emotions with jokes. But he couldn't deny that her words had hit something inside him, a part of himself he had tried to bury for a long time.
"What am I gonna do with it?" he muttered sarcastically, then glanced at her with a small, lopsided grin. "I guess I'll start by annoying Robin more. Maybe draw a mustache on his mask while he's asleep?"
Raven sighed, shaking her head, but she couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at her lips. Maybe Blade wasn't ready for change yet. Maybe he never would be.
But right now… he wasn't alone.
And maybe, for the moment, that was enough.
Raven stood at the edge of the rooftop, gazing over the city, its shimmering lights reflecting in her violet eyes. There was something peaceful about the scene—a rare, fleeting moment of quiet amidst the constant chaos of their lives.
Behind her, Blade stepped forward, hands stuffed in his pockets, as if lost in thought. He looked at her for a second before speaking.
"Close your eyes for a moment."
She didn't turn at first. Instead, she raised a skeptical brow.
"No weird or perverted shit, Blade."
He raised his hands in surrender, smirking.
"Ooooh, Raven, you wound me! As if I'd try something like that… I mean, at least not yet. I'm still working on the perfect plan."
She exhaled in mild exasperation but, after a brief hesitation, finally turned around, closing her eyes—though it was obvious she didn't trust him one bit.
She felt something being placed gently in her palm.
"Alright, open 'em."
Raven opened her eyes, looking down at her hand—her favorite snack. The one she had been eyeing at the store earlier.
For a moment, she said nothing, just staring at it, as if trying to process the thought behind it.
"You… when did you buy this?"
Blade smirked, inhaling dramatically as if basking in the scent of an invisible victory.
"What can I say? I'm a generous, noble, and above all, the greatest man alive."
Raven gave him a look—one that was unreadable. Maybe it was surprise. Maybe it was gratitude. Or maybe—just maybe—a flicker of admiration. But whatever it was, she quickly masked it, returning to her usual neutral expression.
"Well… thanks, I guess."
Blade studied her for a second, then suddenly raised a finger, as if struck by a brilliant idea.
"Actually, no, I don't like 'thanks.' It's too formal, too cold. I want something warmer. Like… I don't know, maybe a hug? Or, ooooh, what about calling me your perfect husband?"
Raven's expression turned to stone.
Then, without warning, she used her powers—lifting him slightly off the rooftop's edge.
And then… she let go.
Blade screamed as he plummeted.
"Betrayal! Treachery! A mucus-covered, Beast Boy-flavored curse—!"
—
Inside the Titans' Tower, Beast Boy was lounging with Cyborg when he suddenly shuddered, his fur standing on end.
"Dude… I think someone's talking about me."
A bit of snot dripped from his nose.
—
Just before Blade hit the ground, Raven caught him again with her powers, lifting him slowly back up and setting him down safely. He gasped for air, looking like a man who had just escaped death itself.
"I was just joking." Raven said simply, then casually opened her snack and started eating—like nothing had happened.
Blade stood there, staring at her for a few seconds before shaking his head with a slow grin.
"Alright, alright, I see how it's gonna be between us... psychological warfare? Fine. Challenge accepted."
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If you liked the story and want to read more
or just to support me, copy the link below.
You will find a special membership for:
3 chapter
and another one for:
7 chapters.
patreon.com/zakx205
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