Chapter Text
Raven remembered the one and only time she had been allowed around her mother's associates.
It was supposed to be a punishment, she remembered that. She wasn't sure what she did. Probably spoke English when she was expected to use German again.
It wasn't that she hadn't known German at that point. She just didn't like using it with her mom.
She was around eight. It was the year before her mom would be sentenced to life in prison without parole. Raven thought that her mother knew it was coming, and she wanted to induce some kind of permanent fear into Raven if she wouldn't be there to do it herself. She didn't need to. Raven already feared her mother.
Her mother had tossed her into the rundown, creaky, dirty house that was used as a sort of meeting spot for the group. She was left on the couch that she was once a nice lilac but had since been turned into a dark and dingy purple. Raven usually liked that color. Not this time.
Her mother tapped her feet on the wooden floor impatiently, waiting for one of her people to show up. Raven just sat there, hands fisted in her black skirt. She kept her gaze lowered on her black flats.
Finally, the door creaked open and in walked a large man followed by a tall woman with tattooed arms. The man looked younger than the woman, but they looked related. Same brown hair, same tan skin, same light blue eyes.
Her mother scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Took you both long enough. You let your son decide what to do now, hm?”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Raven's mother, crossing her arms, “Don't start, Queen. I'm here to take care of your girl while you go out. Just go, before I change my mind.”
Raven's mother smiled that sickly sweet smile and made her way out the door. The man sighed and shook his head before sitting down next to Raven. He was big. And he looked strong. But when Raven looked really closely–out of the corner of her eye, because she’s not allowed to look directly at these people– he seemed kind of young. Maybe he was a teenager.
He looked over at the woman, who Raven assumed was his mother, and said something in Japanese. Raven knew that’s what it was, because it sounded like when her mom and grandpa would talk. But she didn’t understand most of it. She heard “bad” and “daughter” and “mother” and also her name, but she couldn’t piece together sentences.
Eventually, the woman turned to Raven and raised an eyebrow, “So, what do you usually do when your mom leaves you with people like us?”
The answer was obvious to Raven. She kept her head down, didn’t speak unless spoken to, and stayed in a constant state of fear for what she knew they could do to her. Not just physically. She knew if they hit or or did something worse, and she told her mother, she’d probably get punished again.
She knew because she tried once. She didn’t like looking in mirrors, but she knew there were still scars on her back.
“Um…” She started once she realized they really did want an answer from her, “Not much. They usually leave me alone in some room.”
Apparently, that wasn’t a good answer. The boy and his mom seemed almost shocked, the woman especially seeming almost angry.
“What, so they just leave you? Do they not feed you?” The woman asked, her brows furrowed in confusion, “What about when you end up staying a couple days? Do they make sure you have a change of clothes, that you’re clean?”
Raven could feel herself getting nervous. These were the questions the “bad people” asked when they came to visit her and her mother’s house. Her mother always told her to either not answer those questions. But that was with official people. If it was random people, she had to lie.
“They feed me.” She said, “I just don’t like talking. And I usually bring my clothes. They give me something if I stay longer than expected. They’re usually very, very nice. Mama is mean to them if they’re mean to me.”
One of the biggest lies she’s ever had to tell.
The woman kept her eyes on her and then looked back at her son. The boy seemed to share whatever opinion she was thinking of. The woman sighed and kissed her teeth.
“Alright, well, we’re gonna take you out for food. You want Dairy Queen? We’re getting Dairy Queen.” The boy said, standing up and brushing himself. His mother laughed but nodded.
“Dairy Queen. We’ll get you one of those blizzards and a chicken strip basket, You’ll love it.” She said, and Raven believed her. She wasn't supposed to believe random people, but she did.
“Okay.” She whispered. She got up from the couch, her shoes making a small tapping sound as they hit the floor. She followed the boy and his mom out of the house and to a beat up pick-up truck.
The boy looked down at Raven, “You wanna ride in the front with my mom, or in the back with me?”
Raven looked at the black truck and thought about it. She wanted to do both. She wanted to talk to both of these people because they were making her feel safe and warm despite the fact that she knew that was a dangerous thing to feel.
“Back. With you.” She decided, her hands fiddling with her skirt.
He nodded and led her to the trunk of the truck, picking her up and placing her in before hopping in himself. There was a closed box that Raven knew was probably full of bad stuff. And there was also a dog. A big dog. The dog was looking right at her.
She looked at it with wide eyes, wondering what she was supposed to do. The olde robot watches with a careful eye as the dog shuffled forwards and started sniffing Raven. Her face, her arms, her hair, even her hands and legs.
After a moment of that, the dog tried to lay down in her lap. The older boy laughed and reached to stop it, “Hey, hey Missy, what'd we tell you about laying on small people?”
Raven stood still for a moment before shaking her head and reached for the dog, “No, no. Let it. I… I wanna pet it.”
The older boy looked surprised before moving away from the dog and letting it lay down in Raven's lap. The dog kept its head down her lap and its tail relentlessly thumped against the trunk.
She gently, carefully , petted its head. It yawned and continued to let her. She then put one hand on its back and started rubbing it's fur.
The older boy chuckled, “Huh. She's normally not this calm with strangers, you know. I guess you're good to her.”
Raven couldn't help the way her eyes lit up when she heard that. She knew she was good at animals, at least at the few moments her mom let her be around them.
“She's pretty.” Raven whispered, and she was telling the truth. The dog had a pretty fur coat. And her eyes were pretty too. Her eyes were pointy and up, like she was constantly on watch. But she was cute.
“She is.” The boy agreed, “I'm Jason, by the way. And that's Missy. My mom's name is Momoka.”
Raven hummed as she continued petting Missy, “Nice to meet you, Jason.”
“Nice to meet you too, Raven.” He said with a nod, “You're a nice girl. Not like you're mom, she sucks. No offense.”
Raven paused. She was nice? She wasn't like her mother? Wait, what was she supposed to say when someone said no offense?
“None taken.” She whispered, and she felt herself smile genuinely for the first time in years.