Brother, Forgive Me
Why do we fall into darkness?—Stupid question. Might as well ask why black tears stain my face or why my grin is only paint. …But if you truly want to know, ask my brother. Ask Terry. He can tell you why.
Notes:
My big BB fic What Dread Hand is being stubborn again, sorry. And just to make it clear, "Brother, Forgive Me" is completely independent of WDH; it examines in brief Terry and Matt's relationship about 5-10 years after the series stopped.
M
The voice on the phone was weak. Shamed. Why? After seven years of missed invitations, birthdays, holidays, and death anniversaries the calls had become a ritual. 'FatherBrother, forgive me for I have sinned.'
"…Matt?"
Just words. Meaningless. Meaningless from repetition. 'Matt? God, I'm sorry.'
"God, I'm sorry."
My lips almost twitched. Almost.
Sorry. The word suggested remorse. Desire to change. Mortification. Tears. There was no remorse.
"I won't ask you to forgive me."
I closed my eyes. Of course. Forgiveness required confession. He would never confess. Merely demand the benefits. 'Brother, forgive me.'
The catechism continued. And for the first time, I listened. Not to the words. To his voice. He pleaded, more desperate with every word. 'Please,' his tone sobbed. 'Please,' it screamed.
Please what? I didn't know. The calls normally found me in a haze of anger, but for the first time, I was numb. Our memorized routine was suddenly foreign to my frozen mind. Defying tradition, my feelings refused to boil over and seethe from my lips into the phone with intent to burn. Instead of screaming myself to tears, I listened.
I was slow to realize he had run out of words.
"…Matt? Matt…dammit, say something!"
Revelation. Numbness was replaced with cold clarity as the answer to the mystery of seven years burned through my brain. I knew why he bothered. I knew why he called.
The calls were an invitation. 'Scream at me,' they said. 'Pour out every feeling; reduce yourself to a sobbing wreck, just so I can feel a modicum of shame. Scream at me. Make me feel that I have been punished so I can go on with my guilt-free life. Scream for me, Matt.'
Silent, I closed the phone, applied one last touch-up to my face paint, inspected my grin in the derelict subway bathroom's encrusted mirror, then nodded to the Joker I'd already begun to think of as my big brother…and walked away.