date posted: 2023-12-07
summary: Raven takes the bus.
word count: 966 words
notes: mostly unedited character study
In her spare time, Raven takes the bus.
She enjoys long rides, going all the way to the west side and back on one bus, down 34th street and then back uptown. She pays with the meager spending money she has and almost always feels guilty for it, knowing the money could go to more productive things - groceries, vitamins, even the "quality of life" items that Donna mentioned - things that should be good for her.
Instead, she rides. She finds a seat in the back, and watches as the bus fills up with people on Monday mornings, or is able to stare down the aisle to the front of the bus on quiet Sunday evenings.
When she started, it was for the sake of running errands - she familiarized herself with the local bus lines in order to streamline her routines, as sparse and short as they already were. She figured, in case of an emergency with the Titans, a sudden mission or an internal crisis - especially after Terra - she could not afford being away from the Titans for too long. The comfort of being alone was only for the sake of protecting others from Trigon's growing influence in her. Protecting others from herself.
On this bus, stopped at the edge of Manhattan - the South Street Seaport's street sign in the corner of her eye, the East River just out of reach from her window seat, so tantalizingly close - she breathes in and out, briefly gazes at her white cloak to ground herself.
Koriand'r has told her, reminded her often, that it is a journey reclaiming your own life. She knows how personal such a statement is for Koriand'r, with all she's been through, and realizes how deeply Koriand'r cares for her - that she's cared for at all. Often, Raven struggles to accept that she has people who care for her beyond what she is capable of.
She blinks, feels her eyes turn suddenly dry - after so much time, she knows now that it's a sign of incoming tears. She puts a hand to her face and rubs one eye, feels the tears coming.
Raven forces herself to stop, lets her hand rest in her lap. She forces herself to stare out the window, lets the sunlight reflecting off the river's waves pierce her eyes, hoping it chases away her tears.
The bus rides started as a means of refining her errands, sacrificing her own time for others; she knows that now. Her time with the Titans, all they've experienced together, has shown her how important their own lives are as much as their jobs as the Titans. It's something she restricted herself from, forced herself to minimize as much as possible.
But, as she stares at the buildings outside this bus stop, sees the tourist attractions and riverside restaurants, sees the river itself, again, she remembers her fleeting stint in college, the sole life outside of the Titans she only briefly allowed herself. How, as short as it was, it was something she experienced outside of the Titans, a part of life on Earth, outside of Azar, that she made a part of herself, however tainted it became by her - not tainted, no.
Painful, but... developing something, for her. Something allowing her to be in touch with herself, in a way she never knew how to be.
Tenderness is something she's learning to allow herself. She sees it reflected in her teammates: how Joseph is vulnerable in every manner of his existence, soft and gentle with every light touch, every tight hug, every fight, personal to him now, she realizes, to get Raven to understand that she is loved.
She sees it in Koriand'r's passion, her authenticity, how genuine she is in every action of hers, all of her honest, gut-wrenching words to Raven, reminding her to look after herself, no matter how harsh it is - Raven knows her well enough to recognize the care in her words.
It's Donna's protective nature projected into her strength, Richard's leadership accounting for each Titan's strengths and weaknesses and personalities - even considering all the long rotted and tainted parts of her. It's Victor's stern but compassionate talks to her, and even Garfield's levity underlined by concern for her.
Raven leans her head against the window, briefly, until she feels the road thrumming in her teeth, in her head, and lifts her head back up. The tears blur her vision, but her mind is clearer, she realizes.
The bus stops again, at the end of the line. She disembarks, walks to the opposite side of the street. The sun stings her eyes, still tear-ridden, frustratingly. But she stands in front of the bus stop, stands in the sun and feels the warmth on her skin, through her cloak.
Raven briefly removes her hood, lets the sun envelop her more. As she sees the return bus roll towards the stop, about to shroud her in shade again, she cherishes every bit of sunlight she feels.
The bus takes her round and round and up and down and with every ride, Raven finds it easier to accept more of personal life into herself. A life tainted by the circumstances of her existence, but a life growing, developing around that. It's painful, the mere knowledge of it aching in her, but as the bus rolls in, as the shade covers her, she pulls back up her hood, lets a shaky smile crease her face.
She embarks on the bus, wallet in hand, and however unsteady she feels, she pays, walks on board, towards her seat in the back, the bus empty in the early morning. The daytime sunlight cracks through the windows in a way that illuminates the aisle of the bus, and Raven, for once, allows herself to find beauty in it.