The Red Right Hand

Farewell Fair Cruelty

Dick placed his bag down in the hallway of the tower, taking in how quiet it was. He thought about how nice it was to be home, though in a way he felt as though he'd left home behind. He'd spent the last 10 years of his life living in Jump City on the opposite coast from his childhood home. It was here he'd learned to become a leader and met the people who'd help him overcome what Bruce couldn't.

Overall, the trip had made him tired, though his lack of sleep didn't help. He'd lain awake most of the night staring at his ceiling, questioning what his next move was. Questioning whether or not he should really travel down the path he was faced with. His mind was once again infested with Slade and the hatred he held for him, but also the spite he held for Bruce.

He was adamant about what he wanted Dick to do, just as he always was. But Dick honestly just wanted to do something in spite of his wishes, simply because it was what he wanted. For once he just wanted to make a decision that wasn't in some way shaped or even influenced by Bruce. Yet still, he couldn't help but wonder what his real father—John Grayson—would think?

It had been years since his father's death, yet Dick could remember it clearly—them plummeting. He closed his eyes as they hit the ground, the memory playing itself for the thousandth and something time. There was a lonely feeling to it and a question he always asked as they hit the ground, 'why didn't He keep them in the sky?'

Dick himself wasn't very religious (mostly due to his parents' deaths) but his parents were both very spiritual, especially his mother. He was too young to truly understand the concept of a higher power, but he did understand that it was supposed to protect them, and it didn't.

He opened his eyes, suddenly finding the silence of the tower uncomforting and cold. His mind quickly grew numb and he withdrew himself from it promptly. He picked up his bag and made his way down the dark hallway. In the silence he began to wonder if anyone was home and entered the common room where he found her.

She was sitting on the couch, lost in one her books. Most likely a tale written by a long dead, but ever living playwright. She loved her poets. She looked up at him through her long dark hair, smiling at his arrival.

"Welcome home, Boy Blunder," she said fondly, pulling her black hair from her pale skin.

"Nice to see you too, Rae," he replied with a light laugh as he moved to the couch. "What are you reading?" he asked, falling down beside her on the couch wearily.

She exhaled, knowing what he'd say when she showed him the cover of The Tragedy of King Richard II.

"You're reading that again?" he teased.

She smiled and tilted her head to the side. "Yes I am, you should read it sometime. You might learn to be less cocky."

"What's to know, it's the story of how King Richard of England was deposed by Henry Bolingbrook for the English throne."

"Congratulations Bird Boy, you know your history," she smiled, "but it's more than that. It has a very in-depth political point of view of what not just makes a good king, but a good leader."

"Are you saying I'm a horrible leader?" he asked falsely insulted.

"I might be, you have been our leader for too damn long. We may need a regime change around here," she said sarcastically and placed her book down.

Dick watched as she did so, realizing that he wasn't the only one who'd grown. Raven had become quite beautiful in her own way. Her skin had lost its grey hue, becoming a wintery shade of porcelain and looked striking against her now black hair (which she'd colored when she started her college courses). However, she hadn't grown much taller in the last 9 years or so, though her figure had filled out to a lovely hourglass that nearly every male Titan had snuck a look at.