Chapter Text
Raven was not one to dwell on the past, nor the future. Regrets, doubts, thoughts of what should have been or would have — none of them were part of Azar’s teachings. In fact, the old woman had advised against those kinds of thoughts, saying that they would only serve to create further problems in the future. It had all started when Raven was still but a child, under the care of the elder.
She had asked the older woman about her past, for Azar had forbidden anyone to tell her the truth about her parentage. Raven had suspected, correctly, that something had happened in her past to make all the Azarathians regard her with distrust, some even with outright hostility. But the wise, spiritual leader of the paradise dimension had merely said something along the lines of, “the past should not be something to dwell on. Your choices in the moment, and how they will affect your future, those are the ones to be contemplated upon.”
Eventually, Raven had stopped asking, having heeded Azar’s guidance, and it was only when the demon lord had attempted his first invasion of Azarath that the elders finally relented and revealed to Raven the horrible truth. Even years later, the words of the late Azar sometimes whispered to her in stressful times, almost as if it was the old woman herself speaking into Raven’s ear.
But today was different. Today, Raven would allow herself to think about the past; for today was her birthday.
Was it but a coincidence that two years ago, she was standing in the exact same spot on the roof where Robin had found her, watching the hellish symbols start to appear on her skin, the rising sun giving the illusion that they glowed? Knowing that the world had only hours left before they were frozen in time, turned into rocky statues where they stood when she became the portal that her father had use to climb his way out of the fiery wasteland he was banished to?
And yet here she was, two years later, despite her body being ripped apart by the portal. Here she was, surely about to be dragged into one of Starfire’s “party games,” or have to endure another argument between Cyborg and Beast Boy about the superiority of meat versus the ethics of vegetarianism, finding only a small bit of solace in the fact that Robin would also be forced to endure the same.
Raven allowed a smile, however small it was, to cross her lips. Even if she didn’t show it, the antics of her friends were calming to her empathic senses, sharing in the joy and laughter that were quick to appear in the tower.
“I thought you would be up here,” a voice behind her said. Raven jumped; she had been so lost in thought that she didn’t even sense Beast Boy’s prescence.
“Should I expect the rest of the cavalry, too?” Raven asked. She watched as he sat down next to her on the edge of the roof, letting his legs swing back and forth, careful not to hit the metal sides.
He chuckled at that. “No, not yet, anyway. Star and Cy aren’t up yet. Robin’s door was open, but he wasn’t in there when I looked. He’s probably in the gym.”
“I see.”
The two fell into silence, watching as the sun began to peek over the horizon, fingers of red, orange, and golden yellow outstretched across the sky like a painting. Beast Boy made an offhand comment about the sunrise, but Raven hadn’t really been paying attention to him. The two Titans had been dating for little over two months now (and Robin had won a bet between him and Cyborg about how long they would last before Raven banished him to one of the pits of hell).
“So, um…happy birthday?” Beast Boy said, knowing how she hated her birthday — well, hated might have been a strong word — and how it simply brought back bad memories neither would have liked to relive. “Nineteen, huh? D’you feel any older, or…”
“I’ll feel older when Starfire makes me play “games celebrating the day of your birth” and then drags me to the mall,” Raven replied.
“Oh, come on, Raven, last year we were starting to get busy with all the Brotherhood of Evil stuff and we couldn’t celebrate properly,” Beast Boy teased.
“I fear what celebrating properly insinuates,” Raven deadpanned, “if last year’s fiasco was considered not properly handled.”
“Okay, well, we tried to stop Starfire from waking you up at dawn, so you can’t blame us for that,” he said, counting on his fingers the incidents that had occurred. “Second, that doesn’t mean it was my fault that you were in a bad mood all day.”
Raven stared him down. “You seem to forget that you also smashed cake in my face on Cyborg’s dare.”
Beast Boy chuckled, embarrassed. “Heh, yeah, my bad…but I promise that today’s going to be better, and I won’t smash cake, though I can’t vouch for Cy. And besides, don’t be upset at Star. She tries her best.”
Raven opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the sound of the door leading to the roof opening, and she saw a flash of orange before she was lifted off the ground by a very joyful Tamaranean.
“Raven! Happy birthday!” Starfire squealed, and her emotions slammed into Raven like a brick wall, leaving her dazed as the alien subjected the empath to one of her infamous bone-crushing hugs.
“Star, not too early, remember what happened last year,” Beast Boy warned.
“Oh! My apologies,” Starfire exclaimed. “But I will not apologize for my enthusiasm, for today is a most joyful occasion! We shall make the pudding of friendship and sing the Tamaranean song of friendship which has twelve verses! And we shall also participate in the earthly custom of party games that will lift your spirits…”
Starfire continued to ramble on about the day’s schedule, but Raven eventually tuned her out, following both her teammates to the door leading to the staircase. But just before she descended down the steps, Raven took one last look behind her at the sky. The shades of orange and pink were fading now as the sun finally rose up from the horizon, and Raven smiled at the thought of her friends a floor below planning out the day with her.
She had come to Earth to find companionship; to try to make up for the deed she was destined for by trying to help as many people as she could, and not only did she find both, but she had also found a home, a place where she was accepted. She had beaten her father and was given a second chance at life without his influence guiding her every move, and Raven was grateful for that.
She was startled out of her reverie by Beast Boy calling her name from the bottom of the stairs to the ops room.
“Come on, Rae, before Starfire drags you down here!”
“Don’t call me Rae,” she said, but with nowhere near the amount of barely suppressed anger that she normally held towards the nickname.
Closing the door behind her and following her friends into the place she called home, Raven decided that maybe it wasn’t a bad thing to look towards the future after all.