DamiRae Oneshots

Grocery Run

A/N: Good natured Titan family. It was a joy writing this one.

Also known as: the screen time of Wally West and Jon Kent that DCAU robbed us of.

Those bastards.

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Raven Roth woke up at the crack of sunlight on a Saturday morning — the sun stretching its fingers through the blinds of her window and touching the room with its warmth. Her usually dark room (which was now cluttered with spell books and ancient transcripts that were older than China; filled with languages that were unknown to the modern mind and modern society) now had a bright mix.

And Raven didn't like it.

With a groan she pushed herself up from her bed and stretched. And winced at how tense her muscles were in her back and shoulders; proof of how extensive her hand to hand combat with Damian was going. It was the first day, and before Damian began their stretches he said that "the first day is always the worst". Raven nodded at this, and they began their training.

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The first thing was fighting stances that Raven could be comfortable with. They tried western style boxing to ease up. And in half an hour of shadow boxing and learning the basics sweat began beading down Raven's forehead and neck. Damian looked to her and noticed this, clicking his tongue. "You depend too much on your powers."

Raven simply scowled and went back to it. A basic 1-2-3 in her orthodox stance. A left jab followed by a right then a left uppercut. Damian paced in front of her, hands behind is back like a Sensei analyzing his student as she continued repeating this over and over again.

After a few hours of this, Damian held a hand up. "Enough. I do not think boxing is your... niche." He said. Raven, who's breath was slowly recovering, shot Damian a look. Damian held up a hand in defense. "You're no Tim Drake, who is arguably the most skilled in hand to hand combat. You're no Jason Todd, who is a natural born killer. But you do show signs of natural ability to fight, it is just that western boxing is not it." He murmured the last part, holding a hand up to his chin as he looked down onto the floor.

Raven isn't imposing. To an untrained eye she possesses no real threat to anyone. But if you were to look closely at her, you could see signs of a fighter. The eyes were an obvious giveaway. She was tactical, an analyst in her own right. Damian wouldn't admit this in an open room, but she was incredibly powerful. Deadlier than Jason Todd if she wanted to be. And this was coming from someone who dueled against Lady Shiva, arguably the deadliest martial artist in the world.

In truth, Raven Roth is the strongest of the Titans.

Damian was missing something. She was a fighter but didn't have the endurance to last in a fight... how could he fix that—

He snapped his fingers, a lightbulb going off in his head. "Raven, I think I know what could help."

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Raven now rubbed her aching legs back to life before getting dressed for the day. She wasn't doing anything formal today so she chose to be comfy — a pair of gray sweatpants and a Caamp t-shirt would do. She liked the band; the calm vocals and instruments helped with meditating.

She took another step and winced. She didn't think something as simple as jumping rope would cause so much discomfort. Damian busted out 2,000 while she had to stop at 400. And after that?