"On the contrary, it seems that some exponential effect begins to obtain as deeper and deeper darkness falls - as little as one may like to admit it, human experience tends, in a good many ways, to support the idea that when the nightmare grows black enough, horror spawns horror; one coincidental evil begets other, often more deliberate evils, until finally blackness seems to cover everything."
-Stephen King; Pet Sematary
Colin was certain that he would be discovered any minute, and his clothes were not going to survive another round as Abuse. This was going to be embarrassing, he decided ruefully as the footsteps advanced outside.
The door handle began to turn, and Colin tensed.
Then a hand locked over his mouth. Another arm snaked around his torso and yanked Colin backward against his captor. Fortunately, the other boy was no bigger than Colin and the redhead was able to relax despite the fact that his dark corner had been empty a moment ago.
Damian, of course, didn't bother with reassuring Colin that he had assumed correctly which was its own bizarre form of reassurance.
The door opened, silhouetting Mr. Pennyworth and one of Damian's older brothers in the light from the hallway. Colin started to take a step forward, a little braver about confessing his trespasses with a friend at his side . . . but Damian tightened his grip.
They must make an absurd picture to the men in the doorway. The younger man—Colin thought that it was Tim rather than Dick—scarcely gave them a cursory glance before turning back to Mr. Pennyworth and discussing an upcoming publicity stunt.
Colin stared. After a long moment, he shifted, trying to free himself from Damian's grasp without drawing the interest of the adults. Damian trod heavily on his foot, and Colin scowled at the nearest polo trophy.
Across the room, Mr. Pennyworth was pursuing a set of shelves containing old yearbooks. Damian's brother was poking around a box of football memorabilia, and no one had commented on Damian's near-stranglehold.
Maybe these were normal repercussions for nosy uninvited guests in the Batman's house?
The funny thing was that Colin suspected neither man had even spotted them. In fact, despite the open window and the light from the hallway, his corner was darker than ever. Damian's breathing was soft and silent against Colin's ear, and the newest Robin dragged Colin a step backwards as Tim wandered closer.
Mr. Pennyworth made a soft sound that seemed to signal a polite victory, and after a moment of pursuing the contents of the thin album in the butler's hands . . . both Tim and Mr. Pennyworth left the room with the final click of the locking mechanism.
Locks. Pfft. Who needed doors when there were windows?
Colin was much more interested in how Damian had kept the others from discovering Colin's presence in the manor, and maybe a little bit in how Damian had gotten behind him without gaining Colin's notice.
The shadows seemed to disperse around them as Damian turned Colin loose and pushed past the redhead. Some seemed to trail Damian across the floor.
"Are you doing that?" Colin pointed. "The shadow-thing, I mean?"
Damian's hands curled into fists and the shadows settled into the outline of a boy once more. "Yes."
"How?"
Damian shrugged stiffly. "Mother has something approximating a sense of humour . . . deep down. I suppose she thought it a poetic gift for a child of the League of Shadows." Damian glanced up sharply. "No one can know."
"Well, of course not," Colin grinned. "Secret weapons gotta stay secret, but wow, this explains-"
"No one," Damian cut him off, blue eyes flashing. "No one can know, because metahumans are not welcome in Gotham."
Colin stared. Surely, the Batman's rule would not apply to his own son.
Damian met his gaze evenly. Apparently, Robin believed that it did.
"I wouldn't tell," Colin promised solemnly. Hiding from Mr. Pennyworth and Tim had a lot more significance now. "I'm . . . I'm a metahuman too, you know. We gotta stand together, right?"
"Tt." Damian moved to the door and crouched, withdrawing a lockpick from the sole of his shoe and setting to work. Colin took that as agreement.
When the door gave way under Damian's ministrations, he glanced back at Colin. "What are you doing in my house anyway, Wilkes?"