Not Part of the Job [REVISION]

8. Meditate

The metallic stench of blood and rotting flesh filled the air of the abandoned church.

Yet again here were more psychotic cultists. However their target wasn't innocents, but rather Damian's prime target, and he would be damned if they got to her first.

When he spotted five of the masked men in a room in the back, sitting around a table chatting, he unsheathed his katana and held it in one hand while pulling out his ninja stars with the other.

With ease, he perfectly aimed his stars at three of them and sliced their necks, watched as they fell over and grabbed their wounds. This caused the other two men to panic and pull out guns. Damian revealed himself and swiftly thrusted his katana into one man's back, pulling it out just as soon as it had happened. He kicked the body over and glared over at the last man.

"Get away from me!" the man ordered as he pointed a gun at Damian, his hand shaking as he did so. He shot a few times but Damian easily deflected the carelessly aimed bullets with his katana. "I just want to be immortal!"

Damian narrowed his eyes at the man, inching closer. The man shot a few more times before Damian knocked the gun out of his hand and grabbed the man's throat with his gloved hands, squeezing it as hard as he physically could.

The man desperately gasped for breath, watching Damian stare him down as his face turned blue. Damian watched in satisfaction as the man's eyes slowly rolled up inside his head and he slipped into death. He released him and with a hard thud, the man slumped to the floor.

After his potential threats were terminated, Damian fled to his safe house and began his routine of cleaning up the evidence.

Quietly, Damian made it back to his room without disturbing anyone and collapsed on his bed, trying to fall asleep.

But, he couldn't.

He sat up from his bed and ran a hand through his damp hair, letting out a sigh. He finally gave up and decided that he wasn't going to get any sleep before getting up to go out onto the roof to calm his mind.

—

Raven was surprised when she found Damian on the rooftop early in the morning after she had just woken up. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon.

"You meditate?" she questioned, bringing him out of his deep thoughts. She could tell he hadn't slept all night, seeing the bags and dark circles underneath his droopy eyes.

Damian turned his head to meet her shocked gaze. "Yes," he simply answered.

"This is the first time I've met someone who also appreciates the technique of it," Raven replied before walking up beside him, "Mind if I join...?"

"I don't mind." The words sounded forced, and Damian mentally scolded himself for that.

Raven took the spot next to him and began quietly meditating, hovering over the ground as she did so. Damian watched her warily for a minute before relaxing once more.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos..."

Damian opened an eye to peer at her, his attention shifting to her calm expression as she continued with her chant. Her eyes slowly opened and her gaze met his.

"What is it?" she questioned, before closing her eyes once more. "I can feel your stare burning holes in the side of my head."

Damian hesitantly closed his eyes as well. "I do not understand your chant."

The corner of Raven's lip twitched the slightest at his curiosity. "It's my focal point."

"What does it mean?" he decided to ask yet another question.

"Azarath is the the town I was born in. There's a road that leads to a temple which is called
Metrion, and the temple where the monks who raised me are is called Zinthos."

Damian raised his eyebrows the slightest at her explanation as he pieced it together. "You like to think of the town you were born in to calm yourself," he assumed, turning his head to look at her once more.

Raven nodded, her lips finally submitting into forming a smile. "You're the only person I have ever told this. Then again, you're the only one who has cared enough to ask. Thank you for your interest."

He could have sworn he'd seen the slightest hint of pink on her cheeks, but he brushed it off as the reflection of light from the rising red sun over the horizon.

"Do you like to think of your home? I'm sure you get homesick," Raven decided to ask, trying to make conversation. One of her eyes were open as she looked at him curiously.

Damian's expression dulled at her question as he tried to come up with an answer. "No,
not really."

Raven's smile faded at his response. "Oh. I understand. Home must not have been pleasant for you. For me, this is my home, with my friends. Azarath was just my safe place. Well, I like to think it was, anyways."

Damian's eyebrows raised the slightest at the details she'd just shared with him. This was his first clue that her trust for him was beginning to build. He had to suppress the strong urge to grin at this revelation. This was good.

He almost felt guilty for the fact that he would be breaking that innocent trust in half later.

"Was?"

Raven let out a small sigh. "Let's just say my father and I don't get along very well."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Did you run away?"

"Is it that obvious?" Raven questioned, both eyes open now. "But, to answer your question, yes. Not for my own safety, however. I wanted to protect the ones who protected me."

"That's... very kind of you," Damian said, struggling to find the words. Compliments weren't his specialty.

"What about you? Do you get along with your parents?" Raven suddenly asked, changing the subject.

Damian thought for a moment before answering. "My mother and I are on good terms. I never met my father. Mother says he abandoned us."

Raven met his gaze with a sorrowful expression. "I'm sorry. That must be hard."

Damian narrowed his eyes at her apology. "I do not want your pity."

This caused her to raise an eyebrow. "I wasn't offering you my pity. I was giving you sympathy."

"Oh," Damian replied and averted his gaze from hers. "I'm not used to that. Sorry."

Raven let out the smallest hint of a laugh. "It's okay."

"Uh, thank you," Damian spoke, unsure. His cheeks reddened at the nervousness in his tone. This has never happened to him before.

He watched as the bottoms of her boots planted onto the cement floor of the rooftop and she turned to him, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "I suppose I won't give up on you just yet."

A warm feeling began to swell in his chest at the sight of her smile, which confused him even more.

"Breakfast should be done by now. Come down whenever you're ready."

He watched her walk to the door in a daze, her words going in one ear and out the other.