Chapter Text
The boy had a smile, Damian couldn’t help it. His phone played a video of a little piglet running around. She made happy sequel noises as she ran around the pasture. Damian enjoyed seeing the animals run in the videos from the channel. The person who owned the sanctuary posted almost daily videos of the livestock present.
Damian had taken a liking to them and had started to binge watch them. They relaxed and made the teenager forget today’s miserable atmosphere. The video continued taking on a different shot of the animals that inhabited the farm. Damian liked the homey look and tranquility it brought him was a plus. He forgot the darkness this whole month brought to Alfred and Father. Five years had passed since Todds death, and subsequently the madness Father spiraled into.
An announcement popped up, lighting up the dark room while casting shadows all around. It was the end of the video with a donation linked at the bottom of the text. He took out his card and donated an overly generous amount. Yes, Damian was willing to donate more, he wanted those injured and forgotten animals to have a good home.
“Damian! Damian!”
Dick’s voice could be heard down the hall. It ricocheted over the empty and dusty corridors of the mansion. Alfred was getting too old to clean such a large house by himself, and many of the rooms had gotten dusty. Or the better option in the seventeen-year-old mind, pay Kent and get him to clean the house under an hour. The man could get under any nook and cranny with a toothbrush. Damian got up from his desk. He let out a sigh, unbecoming of him but he felt it necessary. It had been a few years since Damian had been up in his old room. A few years since Dick had literally taken him away from father. Damian would not fault Richard for it. Damian could only now recall his father as distant and cold, since that incident happened.
He rarely saw his father as…well a good father. Maybe Bruce had tried at first, but now that was long gone. Damian wondered if Richard and Timothy still saw Bruce as a father figure.
“Damian, we have been calling for you over ten minutes. Alfred finished setting up the table some time age.”
Dick peaked inside the open door, turning on the light and having it burn out the next moment. The room was dusty and stale. It needed a good cleaning and airing for the staleness to leave. The older man was ready to sneeze up a storm when dust was kicked out. Dick saw the way Damian was slouching over his desk with an air of hesitation. It didn’t match the happy content on his phone-- a cow running around wildly. The boy wasn’t happy that much Dick could tell. Their bi-weekly family dinners were a strain, but it did cheer Alfred up to see them.
“Damian, I know it’s a rough time. Bruce is…well Bruce. You know he cared about you. You’re his only son.”
His only son. The one and only. Five years ago, Damian would have loudly and ferociously clamed this as fact. That was in the past, now Damian feared what Father would do to one of his own blood. What consequences would be for one of his flesh?
It was still a struggle for the boy to confess his weakness. Still, Damian forced himself to confess to Dick. He was the most caring and understanding. “Grayson I’m scared of father.” Silence followed his remark.
Dick had gone blank. He was still new to parenting the boy, even after all these years. Well, a teenager now. Dick could not promise him anything from Bruce. As much as it pained the older man to admit it. Bruce had become more volatile, and the safety of Damian was called into question.
“I know Bruce can be dark and aggressive, but…” He trailed off, not knowing where he was going with this. Bruce tended to hurt people, especially those he cared for. At first it was emotionally but then it turned …. It was best to forget. “You know he loves you Damian, he really does. Bruce just has a different way of show it.”
They sit for a while in silence. Both contemplating today. It was rear for the whole family to get together. After the incident with Jason the family just …fell to shambles. The pretending stopped. All the imperfections could not be ignored after that day. Today was Jason Todd’s second death day. Dick blamed Jason for it. He constantly undermined the families’ rules and went against what they stood for. If Jason would just have stopped with being…his god-awful self, then… Dick’s fingers dug into his arm, before jumping off the bed. He put on a smile before addressing Damian again. The boy was staring at his phone, barking could be heard as a group of dogs ran around.
“Let’s go Damian. Alfred only comes to the manor once or twice a year now. He made a carrot cake.”
Dick smiled. His blue eyes caught Damian’s green and it somehow brough a small smile. “Common. I saw Tim eyeing the cake.” It seemed to snap the boy out of his stupor, for now anyway. With the mention of his nemesis, Damian headed off straight away. Dick’s smile wavered as he went along at a slower pace.
Alfred cut one last piece for himself after serving everyone else. The diner had been eaten and plates cleared out after finishing. All that remined was dessert. It had been awkward to say the least. The first few minutes for dinner had been quiet, no one talked until Alfred spoke up. It had ushered a lively conversation form them all, everyone except Bruce, having Alfred pipet in now to continue the flow. Much was different since Alfred moved away, going back to his homeland, where he wasn’t constantly reminded of the family’s familiar. The majority stemming from Bruce’s lack of consideration, and an old man like him could not stand the blame put on the second oldest shoulders.
“I donated a few thousand dollars to sanctuary in Minnesota. The organization seems to be needing help, more so now with the arrival of the rescued horses.”
It went easy for a while, the easy chatter of the family, Tim mentioning private facts—on what DIW he and Kon had, on their dinners and home improvement, the little things. No mention of missions passed his lips, in fact no one said anything of that sort—they kept it like this, or Bruce would go at it like a dog with a bone. Information was always important for him, even if it was half-way across the world.
Alfred, graying beyond the temples now, skin loose with age, still exerted the same presence—a steadying thing for the boys, who still tensed at their father’s watch. More so than ever now. Alfred was the last to go, saw his grandsons leave for home. Reassured Tim it was for the best, if he went to stay with Kon at his home in Hawaii—hugged the boy when he teared up.
“My boy, it’s not your fault this happened. Bruce has progressively gotten worse over the years. I fear this whole incident came about from Miss Kyle running away with another man.”
Tim could only nod. It however didn’t take away the sting—rejection was the biggest part of it. Dick was taking Damian way with him, after threating Bruce with the media and child protective service. Dick always like the little devil more than him, able to best Tim in almost all; good enough for his brother to take Robin away from him. But to leave him with Bruce, was a hurtful thing. It was depressing to be left discarded after trying so hard to be useful. Alfred was the last to go, leaving after Tim ran away to be with Kon.
Tim still tried to be close to Bruce, close to Dick, but not Damian—never Damian, not after all the murder attempts on his life. Still, last months case was still fresh his mind. The failure was still fresh in his mind. The case being a side project of his, that happened to involve Bruce’s ex/partner.
The tears started falling. Alfred was gentle as he carefully wiped them off.
“Master Timothy, I know I have wronged this family.”
That came as a surprise, “Alfred you haven’t done—”
“Let me finish.” It shut the boy up.
“I have let this family drag on with this heavy weight as my children’s heart broke under my watch. Master Bruce has forgotten that family comes first. I should have spoken up.” The older man removed his hands from the reddening face. “Bruce needed help. This was my first failing.”
“Bruce is stubborn,” Tim said to Alfred. The boy was quite startled at Alfred’s statements but settled again when Alfred started speaking.
“I have let him get away with many a thing, my biggest regret was not calling the authorities when Master Jason ran away. Not stopping Bruce when Dick became Robin or allowing him to ignore you for Damian. And don’t think I don’t know about all those failed assassination attempts Damian has put you through. I have punished him for that.”
“Jason was,” the old man muttered to himself before correcting “still is loyal to a fault.” He said to Tim. Alfred still let them all know, every single one, that Jason was a good boy with a heat of gold years after his second death. It shouldn’t have taken a second one for Alfred to correct the family, and honor Jason’s memory. Not to let them twist his memory into something dark, a tale for Bruce to caution the rest of the Robins with.
The stillness was suffocating. Tim had never gotten the full story of what happened to the second Robin. He never will with Bruce’s tight lips and misleading words. The only other person who knew was found dead near the border of Canada, or the remains that were found. Alfred too much in pain to recall those dark days.
Tim was being held by Kon as he came to pick his boyfriend up. Damian and Dick had left thirty minutes before. Leaving Alfred with a lonely house and a hollowed-out man. It was time to leave, even he could scarcely stand being in this soul sucking mansion. He missed the fond memories when the sun was still shining and no dark clouds were around.
The old man had a plane to take, his daughter was having her first child and Alfred Pennyworth wanted to be there for her in all the ways that mattered. He didn’t want their relationship to crash and burn like the one here in Gotham.
~~~
“Hey Birdy!” A young voice called from the store’s backroom. A man wabbled on his cane as he made his way to the back. He let out a breathless exasperation of, “what’s that you want Anna?” He slowly made his way to the black swinging door, a brunette teen almost hitting him with a box full of paints.
“Sorry Liam, didn’t see you there.” Her smile was toothy as Liam struggled to focus on her face. A headache was building, and that was no good for him. It only ever happened as a warning sign, at least his vision was still going well. Maybe it was just a headache from all the customers early on?
“Did Boss Woman want the new paints in the front or back display?”
Liam gestured to the back with his empty hand. “In the back Anna. Boss Lady wanted the plastic flowers in the front. You know why. People are less likely to steal the pricy inventory.” He walked to the front desk and grabbed; the swirly chair while calling out, “Let me help you with that, you can go get the flowers.”
Liam plopped down on the chair, letting out a tired breath as he tugged the heavy box towards him. It looked like he would need Anna to clean up the store before they left. It appeared like it would be one of his bad days after all. Liam never liked this day much, or most importantly this whole month for starters. Remembering the before always made his head scream and made dark memories pop into his head. And as such, Liam refused to live in the past, but it always bothered him for the unknown. Pushing past his comfort in those cloudy memories always made the seizures worse.
He wanted to know what his own body denied him. He recalled mostly in those moments after he was let go from his seizures. The hazy images gave him bad feelings—very rarely did they feel like good memories. This month of September just reinforced how broken his body and mind were.
At least Anna was working today. She was always easier to work with than his other co-workers. God knows they always got on his nerves more easily, at least Anna just got him. Got that this month was hell for him and had a six sense of when he was tired. Time passed before a loud thump shocked him out of his daze. “Found another box hiding in the back,” she beamed at him, “I guess I’m taking the customers in the front if they come in.”
Maybe today would be a good day after all. His friend got him and was willing to let him work in the back of the store. Away from the customers that waddled in during this storm and haggled for a discount. The rain had turned to slush in large puddles on the ground, by tonight it would freeze over, and the young man was glad he didn’t have to work tomorrow. He could sleep in and get over this week. The month was only starting, and he was already over with this month!
It might have been the daze of working, or the sugar that snuck into the new protein shake, but Liam just knew a seizure was on its way. He could smell the warmth in the air and the cleaning supplies used for the store. It would be a pain for him to fall off and knock down the paints he just hung up. It creeped up on him slowly this time, all the signs warning to lay down. He tenderly laid down and prayed no one stepped on him, or called an ambulance because a customer was scared.
The florescent lights blinded the man as he came to. The world spun on its axes as Liam’s body tried its best to get rid of the vertigo and the nausea. The hallways were thankfully empty of people even if distorted voices could be heard from further away. His watch flashed 6:14 pm as Liam desperately tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.
A giant came stopping in. The force of it reminded him of Anna, and her love of boots. The sound was a factor that made her “sound like a badass coming in”.
“Did you have another seizure, or did you fall down Liam?”
“Let’s prop you against the wall.”
She waited for his response, but none was forthcoming. The 19-year-old dragged him to a wall that was cleared from merchandise.
“I’m closing the store. All the customers have already left.” She placed the cane near arms reach before reassuring him that she would do his part for closing.
It took a few minutes for the man to get his bearings and slowly make his way to the chair. He carefully rolled his way to the front of the store, making his way behind the counter to get the cash from the register. It took longer than usual but Liam had the money counted and put away in the safe. Anna came into the office with a squeegee and a bucket of soapy water.
Cold air his hit his face taking away some of the tiredness. He only had a 30-minute walk with his condition right now. It should have been faster if he could still walk properly ---or better yet run. His gut tolled him he could do more than running, but that time was long gone.
“You know you can get a ride from me. You spend a good amount of time against the wall.”
Did he? Liam didn’t think it was that long. A glance at his watch said otherwise.
She gestured to the old beaten-up truck and waved him over. It was a small two door truck that was held up by prayer and duct tape. But Anna knew her truck the best, and right now it was working fine. She helped him in before starting the engine.
“You know it’s a good thing I got the hot air working.”
“I know how much you dislike the cold Anna, it’s a good think you got it running.”
He smiled as the warm air started heating his gloveless hands—something he forgot to put in his backpack again. Maybe he should go and buy himself another pair? Who knows when they will appear again.
“You know if it gets too much for you this month, you can call me. I’m still grateful for what you did for me years ago. During all these years we have known each other, you’re the only one who purported me. You come to me when it gets hard.”
She was steady in words, even when her voice became wobbly with emotion. Clearly meaning it when she made that statement. The man next to her was a caring, and ashamed when it came to his limitations as a disabled man. Anna wished for him to view himself the way she did. A strong man that never let himself be stopped for long. In all her nineteen years of life, she strived to be like him in her life- never letting herself be kept down for long.
“MMM. I always do.” He gave her a small smile, as she turned into his apartment building. She watched him unlock his front door on the first floor before leaving. The rumble of her trunk was the last thing he heard before shutting the door.
The apartment was mostly dark. Fairy lights that were useless for lighting the way, but they still hung on the walls of his living room. Liam detested the darkness with an intensity that took him by surprise sometimes. The little stars hanging on the ceiling glowed very little, but he preferred them being there. It made the kid in him happy as they gave him hope for the unknown. Maybe this feeling came from his past self. He kicked off his boots and switched over to his knockoff crocks, the cold hair made him shiver as it seeped into his socked feet.
He ran as best as he could to his room. Along the way turning on the night lights, he stumbled along the way with cane in hand. He stumbled now and then, catching himself on the wall. The cold air was getting to him. All Liam wanted was his bed with the millions of blankets to curl around in. He closed the door to his room, turning on the tiny heater he found on sale after winter in one of the big lot stores.
He had full on body shivers, his clothing thrown the carpeted floor, as the man struggled to change into his pajamas. His room was dark, the night light for his room had burned out, and Liam wanted his room to be lit up. Laying in a dark room always made him feel claustrophobic. When he closed his eyes shut, he sometimes could smell dirt beneath his fingers and worms moving beneath his flesh. He trembles. This has nothing to do with the cold.
“It’s all a nightmare.” He can’t help but say. He lays beneath his softest blanket, as the heater rumbles on. The table lap lights up the room, burning his eyes as he desperately tires to gain some sleep. He doesn’t want to think of memories that don’t belong to him. Not tonight.
Liam doesn’t like red. He likes blue. Clear blue, dark blue, and even teal blue. It’s a clear sky, an open sea, and forget-me-nots. He thinks, at one point in his life, he might have liked red. Now, blue was a balm to his splintered soul.
He drifts off. His mind on coral reefs and two red heads with the open sky above them. No dark clouds in sight, as the wildlife simply rejoiced in their own existence. He can never remember much of his dreams. Sometimes, he doesn’t want to remember them. But this one was an exception. His body slowly comes out of it. The air scorching hot, his clothes sticking to his body with all the sweat. Kicking off the death trap of cloth, he stumbles to turn off the heather.
It’s not even four am, but Liam wants to remember this dream. Putt pen to paper and infuse all the joy he felt right now on it. He can’t remember anything past five years ago. A passing couple found his body in terrible condition, on the brink off death with his belongings thrown all around him. A drug overdose they said. Teenager from the middle of nowhere, drugs abundant in an area where lawlessness was king. His parents never came for him. A year after he was found, Liam got news his parents died from going through an embankment on an ice night.
For the love of his mysteries parents, Liam could not bring himself to feel all that sad for their untimely death. In the end, whatever lead to him being found near the Highway of Tears was bad news. Liam was almost insulted over the hospitals analysis of drugs being found in his system. He knows deep down drugs were something he would never touch. He knew that the hospital got it wrong. That wasn’t him. Unsettling it was for him to have them to associate drugs with his person. He never had problems with addiction after getting out of the hospital. It was easier for them to just label him as a junky and have him out the door.
The night table’s compartment held his dream journal. The glittery journal held important clues his dreams held. A gag gift his boss gifted him for his birthday from the store. This was a last dich attempt to figure out his messy past. He didn’t dream often, and more rarely did he remember them without his journal. The ones he remembered tended to be nonsense. It was hard to believe in his dreams anyway. Some of what he recalled in his dreams seemed like nightmares, and the rest of it was fantasy.
Aliens!? Not in this rinky dinky town in the middle of nowhere Canada. Besides, he preferred being here and not in the US. With those aliens, villains, and hero’s tomfoolery, he was betting the insurance near their hideout would be insanely expensive.
In the end, his left hand smudges the ink as he tries to write out what he remembers. A beach with two redheads, a spaceship, and robotic arms buried in the sand. Just another fantasy he wished was true. The couple seemed like good people.
He stopped writing. The ink stained his hand as he stopped. His eyes drifted off and finally something concrete eased into his mind. Liam scribbled down his lighting thought before he would forget. Very rarely was he privileged to names.
Who is Jason Todd?
A prickling sensation at the back of his mind made him close the journal. He had a bad feeling about that name. Maybe he never did drugs in the past, but he could have been involved in other ways. Like an enforcer? He never did feel clammy with blood and guts around him. He kicked out the blankets and left for the restroom.
He didn’t want to think about his past anymore. It would be best if he never remembered. With cold wet hands and an empty bladder, Liam buried himself back into his blankets. Closing his eyes, his body relaxed as he drifted off once again.
It was for the best if he never remembered who he was. His life was calm and peaceful for now. He didn’t need to know who Jason Todd was and how they were connected.
~~~
Winter here was harsh and unforgiving, but now and then it gave in to a warm day. Just bearable enough to enjoy. This, however, did not mean that today would be suitable for diving when the lake was still covered in ice. Chunks had started to crack here and there. A group of three unexperienced individuals gathered around a safe spot.
“I’m not doing this, and neither should you two shitheads be attempting too.” A woman in her early twenties all but hissed out through her braces. Her short, red hair swirled around her, her blue eyes trying to plead to with those two idiots. They ignored her and continued to shake off their sweats.
“Ben, I don’t want to explain to mom how you got stuck under the ice. Just because you didn’t know how to use your fucking air tank. Youtubing isn’t going to replace scuba diving lessons.”
Charlie and Ben continued to ignore their cousin/sister respectably together. Since their grandfather died, both teens had found his scuba gear and stealthily snuck it out. They had no intensions of keeping the equipment for ever. Still, it was best to be safe and not expose their thievery. The best answer to their problems? A remote lake. Not may knew of it since it was out of the way, and the lands surrounding it was harsh to track through. Both boys rolled their eyes at Wendie’s insistent nagging. She continued talking as she settled down where the wind couldn’t hit her. Maybe the boys would get out soon once the wind picked up. It was still too cold for her liking, but she sat down on a more comfortable rock to ignore them.
Her eyes glazed over as all her energy was sapped out of her. The only reason she had insisted on coming was to make sure her two idiots didn’t end up drowning. Studying for her university tests took all her energy. The journey down to the lake had made her muscles ache. The wind picked up the teens squabbling and carried parts of their conversation to her ears. Wendie only looked over once the two had gone silent for too long. Their exited chattering had stopped, and she wondered if common sense had finally smacked them in the head.
Both teens were crouching not too far away. The ice had cracked at the edges of water and land. Water could be seen on parts of the surface. Ben with all his stupidity stuck his arm in, his face kissing the water as he finally pulled out the thing he was looking for. Charlie saw her and her inquisitive eyebrow. “He dropped his mouthpiece and can’t find it.”
“Shut it, Charlie.” Ben spat out before choking on a piece of ice that the water carried. “You tripped and made me dropped it. It should be you sticking your hand in this slush.”
“If you can’t handle the water like this, then wait for summer to come Ben.”
His only reply was an “Mmmmhh, got it. It seems to be caught on some dead grass.” He gave a pull, his body banging into the crouching Charlie.
A bleached-out skull hit Ben in the face. Icy water splashed him as the three people’s eyes got big. Wendie screamed as the other two could only stare at the wet skull missing its mandible. Dirt crunched under the redhead’s boots as she took off towards the car miles away.
Charlie could only pull a shaking Ben away as they followed Wendie in the rough terrain.