A/N: I will be honest with you guys, I almost pushed this chapter back a week but ultimately decided it was worth it posting this chapter today.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Enjoy!
Chapter: 74
Darren didn't remember getting down from the rooftop, or how he returned to the Batcave. All he remembered was the chill he felt, the cold that seemed to encase him so fully. Every fiber of Darren's being trembled, shook as he tried to make sense of what had happened. William was gone. William was dead…Darren had killed William. Perhaps Darren should feel relieved, but there was nothing to feel but the sensation of emptiness. The world was a blur, a hazed veil of buildings passing by and voices buzzing into the expanse of nothingness that surrounded Darren, that dragged him down with each ragged breath. Darren couldn't hear, he couldn't respond…focused only on his hands, his blood-covered hands as if wondering if that moment on the rooftop—that feeling of the short sword piercing armor and flesh, muscle and bone…the sound of William's pained choking gasp—had been real. Was William's death a dream, was Darren's freedom from his great-grandfather a dream…had Darren ever dreamed of William's death? Or had that idea, that hope…yearning…for freedom ever been more than a passing thought, a mere fleeting consideration. William's death had never seemed like a possibility…and yet there Darren was in the aftermath, William's infallibility very real and very possible.
For most of Darren's life…for all of what Darren could remember…that fear, that deep-rooted terror, William instilled from the time Darren had been five to when he'd finally put a sword in him, that heart-stopping trepidation had always held him captive. In his own mind, in his own body…it ate away at Darren, devouring him for years. The power William had over him, as much as Darren despised it, as much as Darren fought it…as much as he disguised it with coldness and uncaring glares and silent stares...it was always there in the back of Darren's mind. Whispering darkly, keeping Darren from stepping out of line from fear that he would face William's wrath. The threat William had posed was very real…Darren had felt it, he had endured it and survived it but every wounded inflicted whether physical or mental dug deeper and deeper into Darren's very being. For a time, every once in a while, Darren wondered if that deep-rooted fear was all he'd ever be…all he'd ever become. Darren thought the poison, the very idea of William instilled, would devour everything that made Darren himself until he was a cut-out copy of what William wanted him to be…an obedient, violent, bloodthirsty, thoughtless monster. But now…now, William was gone. William was dead and Darren was free from that constant bombardment of panic and fear…of always expecting the other shoe to fall…wary vigilance of waiting for William to find him and drag him back to hell. No more sinister laughter, no more hissing rebukes, no more hard hands, no more pain, no more torture of the mind and body. William was dead. William was dead, he was dead, he was dead. William was gone.
So was the fear. The constant terror throbbing like a bruise within Darren's very being was gone. The response—the sensation—that settled in the back fo Darren's mind, in the darkest corner of his psyche, that fed him thought after thought of William and what his great-grandfather would do if he ever took him back again—if he ever faced William again—it vanished. Disappeared so quickly it was as if a rug had been pulled out from under Darren. There was nothing left…the pressure from William's presence, physical or otherwise, was gone…there was only emptiness. It felt wrong…Darren felt sick from it, that empty feeling in his gut shouldn't be there. Darren should be happy…he should be elated…he should be dancing across rooftops and shouting from glee. But no, Darren stood silently to the side, nudged along gently by Dick towards the Batmobile, trembling—shaking like leaf. Darren's whole body shuddered, his hands trembled—the fingers twitching uncontrollably, even his lips felt as if they were wobbling. He gritted his teeth, trying to push himself through whatever this was, attempting to still himself and his mind to utter something into the desolate silence and buzzing but he couldn't do it, he could only let himself shake and allow the sudden unexplainable cold encase him—he couldn't feel his toes—inch by inch. Darren's eyes still felt wet, as if still filled with tears. He struggled not to blink or risk sending them running down his cheeks once more…Darren refused to cry in front of Batman.
Darren's body hurt, it ached and burned. Looking down at himself it seemed Darren was covered in blood, where his own blood ended and William's began was unclear. The smell was unbearable, not because of Darren's enhanced senses—they were gone, hindered by the Serum, a raging fire searing through Darren's veins. The blood, the smell, it was too close, there was too much of it. Darren's breathing hitched as the sick feeling in his gut revolted almost painfully. Darren twisted blindly out of Dick's light grip—ignoring Dick's small cry of distress—vomiting onto the open pavement. Darren gasped, retching once more, his knees buckling weakly under him but only for a moment though Darren forced himself to remain upright. It was unclear whether the sickness was from the Serum or the smell, or something else entirely. Moving to wipe his mouth Darren stopped himself grimacing uncomfortably, not wanting to smear more blood over his face. Darren let his arm fall limply to his side as he wavered there, standing over his puddle of sick staring up at the rooftop he and Dick just abandoned as if wondering what had happened and how the two of them were on street level all of the sudden.
There were more muttered voices, perhaps over comms…did Darren have a communication device hidden away in his ear…or was it just Dick and Bruce whispering to themselves? A hand on Darren's arm guided him back towards the Batmobile. Darren let himself be pulled away, his head felt fuzzy…he felt empty…his body hurt…all at once it was as if his body was being pulled in three different directions each piece of himself screaming silently. Darren's back hurt, the deep cut stinging as he stumbled over the uneven sidewalk. The slanted cut on his right collarbone still oozed blood and burned against the air while the slash on his right upper arm throbbed angrily. They hurt and ached in harmony, along with the burning nerves within Darren being devoured by the Serum. The cut along his eye was the worst, it erupted with agony when Darren blinked. Darren briefly wondered if the haziness of his vision was from the wound and blinked involuntarily in response to that thought wincing as he did so, grimacing at the memory of the cold steel glancing across his face.
Darren barely remembered the ride to the Batcave. He remembered Dick and Bruce's voices, others chiming in occasionally…people's blurred faces popping up on the screens as they reiterated pieces of information. Darren remembered Dick's face, close and concerned as he carefully peeled away Darren's mask to inspect his injured eye. The memory of William, so long ago it seemed, a knife at eye level hissing 'how about we make you two match?', erupted almost before Darren's eyes and he flinched away blinking harshly wondering if William had finally succeeded in that promise. But Darren could still see out of his right eye…and William was dead,
"H-he's g-gone—he, William's gone," Darren murmured, almost to himself. The pained expression Dick made nearly tore through the emptiness Darren was feeling…the shock of everything…but only barely. Dick didn't say anything, only tilted Darren's head to the left to get a better look at the wound before turning back to the front of the car.
Darren said nothing else for the rest of the ride and upon arriving at the cave's medbay barely felt the sting of the needle as Alfred administered the Cure. Darren felt slightly more alive, less like a zombie once he'd exited the car. The familiar surrounds…the fact that he was underneath his home…helped immensely. Darren felt at home, he felt safer…everything felt more real. Darren's vision was markedly clearer though still marred by the blood still dripping from the wound…head wounds bled a lot unfortunately and it was still unclear whether it would require stitches. The small pricks and tugging streaming along Darren's back wound was familiar, almost comforting as Alfred stitched up his injuries—his arm and collarbone—as he had always done since Darren came to live with the Bats. Darren couldn't help but absentmindedly kick his dangling legs back and forth from where he sat at the edge of the medical bed,
"I'm fine Alfred," Darren couldn't help but mutter finally still his feet as the Butler rounded to the front end where he sat, "I promise I'm okay," Darren continued to prattle on with nonsense as Alfred shined a light in his eye, guiding where Darren should look. Darren tried, he did, but the brightness bothered him even though he had no concussion,
"I believe you Master Darren, but you've been dealt a nasty shock," the Butler stated gently, placing some gauze on the cut near his eye and taping it into place to stall the bleeding. They would have to wait for it to stop before determining whether the injury required stitches,
"A shock?" Darren repeated, feeling the sting of another needle for an IV, Darren grimaced at the sneak attack with the needle, "William's gone…how, how is that a shock? He's gone, I killed him…I, I'm not shocked, I'm free,"
"The impact…was still quite great I'm afraid," Alfred replied, there was a brief pause before another sting registered vaguely against Darren's skin,
"Alfred," Darren warned lightly, a bit too late as he glared down at the syringe emptied of sedative the butler was now disposing of in the nearby hazards bin,
"I know of your aversion to needles Master Darren. But you will feel better in the morning," Alfred mused lightly, catching Darren by the shoulders as he suddenly pitched forward laying him down flat with practiced ease.
Darren's body felt tired, heavy and his thoughts swirled around in an endless loop. The pain was fading, only sleepiness filling the void…the emptiness was still there but leeching away. Everything ebbed and flowed as the sedative took effect. The world dimming at an alarming rate while Darren's mind centered and sorted itself. The sense of clarity pulled Darren to a fact, a conclusion that haunted his dwindling sense of consciousness. Something that Darren skipped over—perhaps purposefully, not ready to face such a reality just yet—since the moment William had fallen from the rooftop since Darren realized his great-grandfather was finally dead. Darren may be free of William, but he was not free from the Court of Owls. There was more to do, more to determine and endure...for there was a decision to be made, and not by Darren. Everything was out of Darren's hands, there was nothing else for him to control in this plan to dismantle the Court of Owls.
Darren was free...but not quite yet.
Dick watched Darren's chest slowly rise and fall, the steady beeping of the nearby monitors while rhythmic also a measure of the severity of what happened. Darren would survive, he would be all right…but Dick worried about the mental load, the emotional load such an encounter would leave behind. Sometimes it seemed there were too many pieces of Darren for him to pick up. Dick tried to help, they all tried to help, but Darren rarely wanted anything of the sort. He mistook their desire to help ease whatever burden he bore as pity. As something negative…as if something were wrong with him and the Bats trying to help was their attempt to fix him. Perhaps after years of being told exactly that…that he was a 'problem that needed to be fixed' Darren started to believe his abusers. Dick's hands curled into fists as he gritted his teeth in silent anger at the mere thought of Shepard Powers…of William Crowne, someone he shared blood with, who tormented his cousin for a whole decade. Even now, as Daren came to terms with everything as he healed mentally and physically…the weight of that was still there. As was the fear that they—the Powers, William, the Owls—were right.
Darren had been out of it after what happened on that rooftop. Dick couldn't hear what had been said but he had been mere rooftops away when the fight occurred. Dick couldn't interfere, Darren had warned him away spewing nonsense about how it would be seen as weakness or that his demands lacked conviction or something of the sort. Perhaps that truly was what the Court would think, Dick wouldn't know but it sounded like bullshit to him. Dick worried that maybe Darren wanted to face William on his own, as if he wanted to make a stand to prove to William, the Court—himself—that he could do this, that Darren could face the Court and walk away. Fear fluttered against Dick's chest as he considered another outcome of that rooftop fight…and glanced again at the heart monitors and Darren's chest rising and falling, steadily breathing...soundly asleep despite everything. Relief surfaced but it didn't ease Dick's thoughts. Darren's behavior after killing William was…concerning…but also understandable. Emotional shock was a very real and impactful thing, psychological shock was damagingly possible and it was very clear that was what had overcome Darren. But again the mental weight of what happened had Dick concerned for Darren in the future. Being physically free from the Court—from William—was one thing, mental freedom was another entirely.
Reaching over to brush away blood-matted hair from Darren's—almost peaceful—sleeping face, Dick let out a sigh, grimacing as he cataloged the injuries that littered Darren's body. They were not nearly as bad as Darren's first two encounters with their great-grandfather, but they were still poisoned by the Serum and not at all pretty. The cuts on Darren's right collar bone and left bicep were long and deep but easily sewn up, though blood still stained the bandages Alfred had wrapped around the wounds—they would have to change those soon. The wound on Darren's back was more jagged and a challenge to close properly, they would have to keep an eye on the wound for infection in the coming days. The Serum was strong, fighting the Cure it seemed but they had plenty now that the Bats could produce their own unlimited supply. Another dose probably wouldn't hurt.
Dick sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he considered the options suggested by Dinah for Darren. Barbara had suggested something more may be needed to help Darren cope, but Dick hadn't wanted to believe her. The Bats were no strangers to their inner demons, they went to Dinah to talk when they needed it…that was all the help they sought though Dick also knew that Jason and Barbara often sought more means of psychological assistance with what they had endured. Dick knew that reason was partially why Barbara suggested the option. Dick wanted to think that this was something therapy alone could accomplish but he also realized that perhaps wasn't the case. Dick was sure that was what Darren thought—that therapy was all he could bear—and probably what he wanted to be the truth. That was in part why Dick hadn't mentioned his call to Dinah asking for psychiatric and psychological recommendations. Dick hadn't even mentioned the call to Barbara. Not wanting to light a fire under that possibility. Not yet, he couldn't do that to Darren…not while they were still in the thick of everything,
"Dick?" a voice questioned. Dick jerked to attention, glancing towards the entrance and saw Tim standing in the entrance concern and wariness dripping off his still and pale form. He eyed Darren almost fearfully as if expecting the worse. At the sound of more hurried footsteps, Dick rose just as Livia and Stephanie rounded the corner and stumbled into Tim—in an almost comical way—their gazes immediately settling upon Darren,
"He's okay," Dick stated, quickly, holding a hand out as if to calm them, "He's just asleep, Alfred gave him a sedative," Damian trailed past behind the three now standing in the entrance to the medbay, fixing the back of Livia's head with a glare, before shaking his head and hurrying back out into Gotham, most likely filling in for both Tim and Stephanie's absence in the field. Bruce must have passed along Darren's return to the cave to the other's while Livia must have finished her meeting with Damian's mother,
"W-what happened?" Stephanie asked as the three of them wandered in standing over Darren relief etched on each of their faces,
"Darren killed William," Dick answered, opting for the easiest explanation,
"And…is that not a good thing?" Livia questioned, gently taking Darren's hand in her own, a tender expression on her face before a frowned hardened the soft look—her focus now on his face as she gently brushed away the same lock of hair Dick had previously tried to tame,
"Well…good for getting the Court's attention…bad for Darren's psyche," Tim murmured,
"Plus he was an incorrigible douche…so doubly good on that count," Stephanie deadpanned,
"His eye…uh…is it…did he—?" Livia stumbled over her words as if saying her line of thought out loud would make it so. Her gaze was fixated on the gauze that covered Darren's eye injury, almost as if she were mystified,
"Oh! No…no, it's just a cut. We don't know how deep it is at the moment…there was a lot of blood. We're waiting for the Cure to kick in more effectively before closing that up. His vision was fine, he could see…it was just a scratch," Dick assured Livia, catching her gaze and shaking her from whatever haze she got caught in. Livia shook herself before letting out a shaky breath,
"I-I will be honest, I'm exhausted…going out into the City this soon after the ritual was not a good idea," Tim looked over at her sharply,
"Did something happen?"
"N-o," Livia almost squeaked, "No…it was fine. Talia took the magical object, she knows the terms. Now we just have to keep watch and see what she does. It was just a bit overwhelming,"
"Of course," Dick stated, throwing Tim a look, who gave him a dark one in return, "Go on upstairs,"
"But—," Livia trailed off, looking down at Darren clearly conflicted,
"He won't be waking up for a while," Dick stated, "The Serum will be in his system for some time as well and that's pretty painful, we want him unconscious for most of that. We'll let you know if anything changes. You go and take care of yourself," Livia considered, before regretfully letting Darren's hand go and hurrying off towards the exit of the Cave. The manor's protective spells to keep her contained would snap back in place upon her arrival topside or down in the Cave, up to the guest bedroom was the only place she could go,
"He'll make a full recovery right?" Tim asked, "How bad were his other injuries,"
"Not that bad," Dick stated, "it was more the shock of everything that happened, the gravity of it all that got to him the most,"
"He just can't seem to catch a break," Stephanie sighed, "I hope this is the end of it…I can't stand everything that's happened to him and I'm not even the one enduring it,"
"It's out of our hands," Tim replied, "We'll just have to wait and see," Stephanie grimaced at that before putting a hand to her ear, listening intently to the communicator,
"I guess I need to head out," Stephanie said, a glimmer of uncertainty crossing her face as well as she looked down at Darren. Dick couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face at how sincerely they supported each other.
They were all friends the four of them, Livia and Darren a bit more than just that, but at the core of it all, they cared for one another. Stephanie didn't want to leave Darren behind like this, injured in the face of something traumatic. Dick was grateful for their friendship with Darren and all it has done to make Darren's adjustment and life with the Bats that much more bearable,
"Go," Tim said, drawing Dick from his thoughts and back to the moment at hand, "like Dick said, he'll be out for a while and if he wakes up before you get back I'll let him know you were here," With a grateful smile and a brief peck on the cheek Stephanie was gone.
Silence devoured the medbay, Alfred said he would come in to do one last checkup of Darren before they moved him somewhere more comfortable upstairs. Tim hobbled over to the unoccupied chair, sinking into it heavily, rubbing at his leg still in a brace from when William stabbed clean through the bone back in July,
"Do you think this will work?" Dick asked hesitantly, "Was this the best idea? Murder and blackmail?"
"The murder wasn't exactly planned, nor is putting Ra's into a coma murder or our choice…that's out of our hands as well," Tim stated evenly,
"You know what I mean. Can the Court honestly be defeated this way?" Dick glanced over to Tim, a pensive look on his face,
"If you doubted the plan…why didn't you say anything?" Tim demanded, throwing Dick an impatient look,
"It's not that I doubted it…I—I just, I want what's best for Darren and I'm not sure that this is it," Dick murmured, looking back to Darren's chest slowly rising and falling a measure of his vitality, "you didn't see him afterward…he was hardly himself. He was hardly…anything. He cried Tim…he cried after he killed that madman. Out of relief, out of stress and frustration and fear, hell if I know…but he was a wreck. I can't see him like that again and with this plan…going forward, there is no end in sight. The Court of Owls will fight us every step of the way, they will look for weaknesses and exploit them…that's what Darren said they do…how is this a solution?"
"Would you rather Darren pick them off one by one? Would you rather he face that on his psyche day after day? This isn't the best solution, it's not the best outcome…but it's what we have. We'll just need to be watchful, and ready for anything that comes our way. As it has always been for any situation," Dick shook his head, in disbelief or exasperation, he couldn't tell which he felt…both perhaps,
"Is that really enough?" His voice seemed to echo between the two of them as they stood watch over Darren's unconscious form…worrying for his future, worrying for the welfare of his mentality…in the face of almost complete uncertainty. They knew one thing, they had one thing…one piece of certainty and that was the flash drive. Something the Bats controlled and something they would have to be careful with, something that could make or break everything the Bats had worked to achieve,
"It has to be," was all Tim said.
The two brothers didn't say anything for some time, wrapped up in their thoughts regarding the Court of Owls, their futures and the consequences of their actions thereon that night. One thought echoing in both their minds.
Could this ever be enough?
Darren wished the truth was that after he came to, everything was okay…everything was perfect. But it wasn't. Darren wished that he could say he was himself after waking up, and for the most part he was, but nightmares plagued him…restless sleepless hours…stressed filled pacing…panic attacks, Darren's nerves were fried. The shock of what Darren had finally done had worn away…but his mind was focused on the future. On exactly the enormity of what he was attempting to do. Darren wished he could see the possibilities, how this could all play out. The Court of Owls was an entire organization….the Bats were just a family cobbled together to fight crime. The Bats were good at what they did, but so was the Court. The Bats also had other resources—the Justice League, Batman Inc., The Birds of Prey—but the truth of the matter was Darren didn't know what would happen if Lydia refused his terms. If Darren's demands were not accepted, the flash drive would have to be uploaded…and while damaging the impact would be temporary, stalling the Court by only a few years a decade at most as they reassembled their membership, changing the cast of players entirely. The flash drive would be useless at that point and Darren…he would be right back where he started give or take a few years to breathe before anyone came after him.
Maybe…maybe Darren could disappear when that time came. Become a ghost. It would be for the best…it would be necessary if the worst did indeed happen. He could keep everyone safe, everyone out of harm's way…as his brothers did for him Darren would do for the Bats. Perhaps eventually they could find a more permanent solution for the Court of Owls without worrying about him. It would hurt them…it would hurt Dick and Barbara…Mike…Tim and Steph…Livia, disappearing would hurt them all in a way Darren never wanted to harm them. But in the face of the Court, in the inevitable hunt for his head, once the flash drive is finished, that would be worth it. The time Darren had with everyone was everything to him—what he had learned, the support he had while facing everything from Ra's al Ghul to William, the love they provided despite the darkest parts of Darren being forced out into the light—it would have to be enough for Darren to face the future. The time Darren would buy the others by vanishing allowing them to search for the best and most efficient way to take down the Court of Owls—while harsh and dangerous in itself was their best shot at keeping Gotham safe—that would have to be enough for them. Darren didn't want to go, but if it came down to utilizing the flash drive, if it came down to facing an entirely new Court of Owls, Darren would willingly and readily do it. It was time ticking on by, lapsing second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour…it was the waiting eating Darren from the inside out. Every insidious thought, every terrible thing that could happen was circling Darren's mind like a committee of vultures, draining him of spirit and energy faster than the Serum ever could, following the marching of time as everyone waited. The past and the future haunted him unbearably…time passing on by leaving him wondering and wondering and wondering, perhaps the worst torture of all,
"Darren, just come down and be with the rest of us," Tim's steady and reasonable voice pulled Darren from his head, lost in his tumbling twisting thoughts. It was a mere few minutes—at least Darren thought it had only been a few minutes—since he had kicked Dick out of his room as the remnants of a panic attack slowly left him. Darren wanted space, Dick clearly didn't want to leave him alone and now neither did Tim.
Darren hurried over to the door, leaning back against it heavily as if to keep Tim out fully knowing that with the Serum still circulating in his system—the Cure was still working on flushing the poison out—there was no enhanced strength available to keep the door from being pushed open. And Darren on his own was too exhausted and injured to even attempt to hold Tim back. Darren let out a sigh, letting his head fall back against the wood, squeezing his eyes shut as if that could ease the tirade of all that he felt and thought swirling in his head, only to grimace in pain.
The eye wound was the worst out of the four injuries he received in his fight against William. The mere thought of which left his hands quaking. Darren splayed his hands out before him, palms facing downwards…remembering when Livia showed that the tremors were psychological, nothing more than a side-effect from what happened. Darren gritted his teeth, tucking his hands carefully behind him pressing them harshly against the wood. Alfred said Darren was lucky, the blade skipped over his eye completely. Darren really could have ended up matching his father if William had been a millimeter to the left and Darren hadn't been as fast as he was even with Serum in his system. The eye wound was a thick scratch that started just above his eyebrow slanting downwards until it stopped at his cheekbone. Nothing a few butterfly stitches couldn't fix, though it would scar most likely. The outcome of Serum wounds was unpredictable but Darren wasn't too worried nor did he entirely care that much, his body was littered with scars what was one more? Of course, the Bats were concerned as any risk to their secret identities was a problem. Facial scars were more difficult to explain away, though Renegade's mask would cover most of the wound and Darren—again—didn't really care about the public. The cut was still painful and every shift or twitch with his face sent it stinging horribly. The eye wound would be a memorable healing process,
"Darren…c'mon. Say something," Tim muttered, "I know you're in there. Don't shut yourself away, don't just shut down…not now." Darren swallowed but remained silent, an uncomfortable pressure building in his chest…as if he might burst under the enormity of everything that very second. His eyes scanned his room briefly, all too easily finding the location of the Talon blade hidden away in the floorboards. Darren pulled his gaze away, shaking his head harshly.
Darren shouldn't be locked away in his room, it was a bad idea. It was not a good thing to do with so much strain and pressure and…and feelings building up within him mentally. It was a bad idea to bring the Talon blade to his fight with William…his great-grandfather's blood still stained the blade, Darren couldn't bring himself to clean the weapon lest he'd be forced through the mental dance of their last fight as well as everything that came—that Darren was forced to endure by that madman—before that final fatal moment. Darren should have left it where it fell during the heat of that battle but Darren couldn't do that, he just couldn't leave the blade behind. Darren had added more of the Serum from what remained from both times he got his tattoo and anything of the Serum in that blade was gone. It was essentially worthless now, but still, Darren couldn't part with it…not with the threat of the Court still very, very real,
"We don't care that you killed William, Darren," Tim tried again, and Darren gritted his teeth so hard he could hear them creak against one another at the mention of his great-grandfather's name, "We just want to see you…see that you're…here. We want you with us…we need you."
Darren stood there, staring down at the grain in the wooden floorboards of his bedroom…picturing everyone downstairs waiting, thinking things through over and over again—every worst possible scenario—just as Darren was doing. Torturing themselves over the unknown. Did they need Darren there, to see if everything was worth it? That Darren was worth it? No…no, they needed Darren down there with them as they waited the ultimatum out as well. The Court of Owls wasn't Darren's battle alone even if he was at the center. Darren pushed away from the door taking a step, then a second one, eyeing his bed as if he would prefer to fall right into it before forcing himself to turn and open the door. The look of relief Tim wore was almost worth it as he followed the older teen down to the living room.
No one looked up as both Tim and Darren entered, they were all too transfixed with their own thoughts though relief danced in Dick's eyes and he mouthed 'thank you' at Tim for reaching Darren when he couldn't. It wasn't Dick's fault for that, Darren figured it was his own fault but didn't exactly understand the difference between his response towards Tim in comparison to Dick. Perhaps it was that Tim wasn't trying to help Darren as Dick had for the past few hours—through the nightmares, through the panic attacks, through everything in between...it had just been too much for Darren by the time he made Dick leave him alone—instead, Tim was just coaxing Darren to rejoin the world. It made no sense and perhaps it didn't have to…Darren didn't know and Dick didn't seem slighted by the different response. Darren still felt as if he should apologize to Dick…but couldn't find the words, instead, he meandered over to the end of the couch and took up a perch on its arm as he often did when the Bats met up in the living room.
The Bats were spanned out across the room. Damian was sprawled in front of the fireplace surrounded by the two dogs and Alfred the cat, Damian's frown cut through the peaceful scene as he slowly and absentmindedly rubbed a hand on the cat's head, deep in thought as he stared into the fire. Darren was thankful for the fire, the heat revealing just how chilled Darren had been since awaking in his bedroom. Bruce sat in the big reclining armchair, angled toward the coffee table near the fireplace, his hands steepled under his chin a thoughtful expression on his face his dark grey eyes narrowed. Dick and Barbara were huddled near one another at the corner of the L-shaped couch, their hands entwined Dick bringing their joint hands to his lips pressing a light and comforting kiss against Bab's hand. Darren's gaze shifted to Livia, who sat by Stephanie and now Tim, she smiled lightly at him as if sensing his thoughts but didn't move near him nor did Darren shift from his spot on the arm of the couch. Jason stood in the corner of the room, twirling a cigarette lighter in his hand as if contemplating taking a smoke a scowl, on his features. There was a tray to treats and tea on the coffee table, now cool and untouched. Darren felt as if he should say something, break the silence he'd invoked since waking from his semi-forced sleep,
"I don't regret killing him," Darren finally uttered, his voice echoing loudly in the deathly quiet room. Darren looked up, glancing around the room until his gaze finally fell to Bruce,
"I wouldn't ask you to," was all the Bat said, the answer stole Darren's voice for a moment…so surprised by such a simple response and unsure of how to continue from there. Darren took a slow breath, swallowing after a moment before speaking once more,
"I don't know how this will turn out…what we're relying on is the current Owl members' desire to remain in power, not wanting to share it for a changing of the guard. If this doesn't work—," Darren never got to finish that sentence…because in the next moment, the doorbell rang.
Everyone in the room apart from Darren tensed. Each of them listening as Alfred's ever calm and steady steps echoed across the floor towards the entrance hall. Darren stilled, forcing himself to become as frozen as a statue every muscle tensed and ready to spring all the while appearing unnaturally still as if he were made from stone as the sound of the door opening echoed through the near-silent manor. A beat of silence, a murmured voice, and Alfred made his way back to where they all sat, his expression almost sternly calm only a slight waver in his voice betraying any distress at the situation,
"Miss Lydia Powers is here," was all the Butler said, but it had Darren scrambling to his feet, determined to face the woman standing eye-to-eye. Darren would end this with dignity no matter the outcome. Bruce nodded to Alfred, standing himself the others following suit…just as tense and ready for anything.
The tapping of heels sounded and Lydia was there standing in the entryway to the living room, right there with them. Her expression was cold as ever…icy to the very end. Her outfit chic—a silk white button-up shirt, covered by an open grey plaid jacket and a pencil skirt, the heels she wore were strikingly tall. A spare glance revealed that Lydia wasn't wearing her wedding ring...and Darren realized with dread the court date was just over a month away. He shook away that thought, panicking now would not help his case. Darren didn't know what to expect, or to think, or to feel…so he just stared silently at the woman who he goes technically raised him for ten years. Darren stared steadily, a slight glare eroding the pensive look, at the woman who made his life miserable…there was nothing else he could do. Lydia was a messenger, there to determine Darren's fate,
"Oh, there's no need for that," Lydia murmured coldly, unflinchingly glaring off to her left where Jason held a gun level with her chest, "You wouldn't shoot the messenger would you?"
"Try me, bitch," Jason hissed, the safety clicking smoothly off. Lydia quirked an eyebrow, a smirk on her face as she waited,
"Jason," Bruce warned, shaking his head slowly. Jason glared, reapplying the safety but kept the weapon trained on Lydia. With an annoyed huff of a sigh, Lydia slowly walked towards the center of the room, towards Darren coming to a stop just in front of him. She regarded Darren as if wondering what had happened to the control and power she had once consolidated—how now the position of Grandmaster would only hinder her advancement if the terms were enforced—her lip curled in disgust as if she hated the idea of compromising with a teenager before she finally opted to speak,
"With much consideration, we Owls have come to a decision," Lydia started, pulling out a blood-stained piece of paper, "We will cease all immediate operations, stop obtaining seats of power within Gotham City, end the recruitment of Owl members and Talons…no more legacies like yourself, no more street rats taken into our Nests. As long as you keep our secrets entirely out of public knowledge…and do not act upon them. " There was a pause, and Darren realized Lydia was waiting for his response. As if, even in the crowded room this interaction was between only Lydia and himself. For a moment Darren floundered before gulping air to steady himself,
"We'll make sure you hold your end of this bargain," it was all Darren managed to get out. Lydia slanted him a look, her cold light grey eyes seemed to bore right through him and Darren forced himself to hold her gaze resisting the urge to look away as such a stare had once enforced for many many years,
"And us as well. We will tolerate this…this ceasefire for now, but know this boy, we will fight you every step of the way. This is not over…not yet," the bite in Lydia's voice was bitter, "I believe this was yours." Darren robotically took the blood-stained piece of paper Lydia carried, the demands that he speared into William. With that, Lydia turned on her very tall spindly heels and flounced angrily out of the room. It was quick, it was anticlimactic and Darren stood there for a few seconds almost wavering in surprise by such a swift and easy deliberation.
The list of demands slipped from his fingers as Darren sank to his knees, suddenly unable to bear his own weight as a laugh burst through the silence. Darren's laugh…his laugh…breathless with disbelief,
"It's…it's over…we, we won," Darren muttered, stunned. It was as if Darren's voice broke the spell and the room erupted into cheers and cries of relief, happiness…joy. People were hugging, Darren was hugged by both Dick and Barbara at the same time but he didn't even care. It was over…it was over Darren had won. It didn't matter if Lydia and the rest of the Owls fought against his restrictions…with their power at risk, their hands were tied. Darren was freed for a second time. Darren had survived.
"Hey," Livia stated softly, jerking Darren from his thoughts. He had meandered upstairs as everyone else celebrated, he could hear their laughter and the clinking of glasses. Darren was pretty sure everyone was getting some kind of glass filled with an alcoholic drink regardless of age. It was a victory and victories were to be celebrated. Darren though wanted to get away for a bit…process his victory in relative peace. Still near everyone he cared about but with some distance, some space to himself. He stared down at the lighted lower floor through the posts of the stairway's railing, his legs danglingly through the bars and over the edge. Darren smiled up at Livia, brightly and freely…unable to ignore or escape the buzz from the resounding celebration,
"Hey," he echoed, watching blissfully as Livia crouched down on the top of the stairs next to him. With care, Darren pulled his legs back through the bars, twisting so he sat beside Livia. They stared at one another for a moment, drinking the other one in companionable silence. Darren mapped out the small freckles dotting her face, the one at her temple by her hairline, almost hidden from plain sight, the one hidden at the bottom of her chin, another placed just above her left eyebrow—quirks Darren memorized, features he found endearing. Livia's eyes almost glittered luminously in the offset darkness their shadowed perch, Darren didn't think she could ever be more beautiful. Livia's presence, her support and unyielding faith in him as a person…her place in his heart…erupted a tenderness in himself that Darren didn't think possible, a yearning, a love that broke through even ten years of darkness and violence, tore through ten hellish years of grief, isolation, and solitude,
"Is this real?" Livia whispered, "Is all of this actually happening?" Darren couldn't help the quirk in his lips as he pulled Livia a little bit closer, the space between them minimal,
"Does this feel real?" He questioned quietly, gently taking her hand and placing it against his chest. Livia let out a breath of air, a ghost of a chuckle,
"Yes," she murmured, brushing a lock of her dark brown hair behind her ear, "We're alive,"
"We're alive," Darren agreed,
"No more curse,"
"No more Klarion," Darren's voice was muffled by Livia as she drew him in for a kiss, quick and playful, her arms encircling his shoulders,
"No more Slade," Livia's breath tickled Darren's lips and he struggled to continue through their list,
"No more Ra's al Ghul," he managed between kisses, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling Livia even closer still,
"No more William,"
"No more Court of Owls," Darren whispered with finality and Livia pulled back, staring at him a look in her eyes that spoke only of love and true companionship. She bit her lip lightly as she sifted her hand through his hair playfully,
"So that's…what, six birds with one stone?" she questioned, Darren let out a laugh which she echoed, a smile lighting her face, "We did it," Livia let out a sigh as she rested her head against his shoulder,
"We did it," Darren agreed, "We're alive…we survived, everything." The two of them stayed that way, Livia's head against his shoulder, his arms around her at peace as the celebration continued on without them, music was now filtering up to the second floor, and Darren slowly untangled them standing and offering her a hand,
"Would you like to dance?" Livia smirked, knowing full well that Darren did not enjoy dancing, but Livia loved to dance...he would do this for her,
"How could I refuse on a night like tonight?" Livia stated almost slyly taking his hand to stand as well. With their arms around one another, the two of them slowly circled the small landing of the second floor, overlooking the first...at peace...at home with one another,
"You know…before everything was final…I considered disappearing. Running off to give everyone more time to find another way to defeat the Court," Darren murmured, Livia lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, a frown on her face,
"That would only hurt them…and waste their time. They would look for you above anything else," The light from the first floor passed over Livia slowly as they circled in time with the music below,
"You really think that?" Darren mused, Livia rolled her eyes shaking her head as if frustrated by his denial of his own worth,
"You act like you haven't lived with them for almost a year. They'd look for you…they'd go to hell or back, they'd never give up. The Bats don't give up on one another, Jason's proof of that,"
"You also said that would hurt 'them' not 'us,'" Darren didn't mean for it to come out as accusatory, but he couldn't help feeling disgruntled by Livia's word choice. Livia only grinned, breaking their dancing embrace to cup his face with both hands and pressing a kiss to his lips,
"I said 'them' because I would go with you. Anywhere. Anywhen. Wherever you are, I will go,"
"It would be dangerous," Darren murmured, his heartbeat thrummed in his ears, pounding loudly from kiss after kiss,
"I'm dangerous too," Livia answered, and Darren chuckled in agreement,
"I want to live," Darren stated suddenly, pulling away slightly. Livia stopped planting kiss after kiss, her arms still around him, "I want to live…really live. I want a future. I want my future, the one I choose,"
"Then take it," Livia whispered, "It's all right there waiting for you. No one is stopping you,"
"I don't want a future if you're not in it," Darren insisted, Livia smiled, quirking her eyebrows questioningly,
"Is that a promise?" She mused lightly,
"It's a promised," Darren echoed, leaning in to kiss Livia deeply, "It's a fact…and everything in-between," he planted kisses along Livia's jaw, leaving her breathless, down to the crook of her neck where he stopped, whispering in Livia's ear of everything he wanted. Everything Darren saw and sought for his future. What Livia meant to him…what finally gaining his freedom meant to him…everything they could do and become. The world was finite, but Darren was not and he would take his eternity with the person—and people—he loved by his side…however long that may be.
Darren and Livia stumbled back away from the second-floor landing...away from the railing and stairs and light, forgetting about the music, forgetting about everyone below...there was only the two of them as they bumbled with one another breathlessly. Closely embraced they backed down the hall, running sloppily into the walls as they made their way towards Darren's room, smacking at the walls trying to find the right doorknob, chuckling breathlessly at each mistake barely coming up for air..almost frenzied in their desire for one another…fired up by all they had to overcome. As they stumbled into Darren's doorframe, another giggle escaping Livia's occupied mouth, Darren reached for the doorknob only to be stopped by a hand catching his wrist, a sudden sense of clarity in Livia's gaze, also filled with yearning and desire but still a pensive expression crossed her flushed face,
"Are you sure?" Livia questioned in a hushed tone that disguised her eagerness. Darren smiled, pulling her in for another deep kiss opening the door in the process,
"More sure than I've ever been," Darren replied, cupping her cheek and pressing his forehead lightly against hers as he almost drunkenly guided them through the opened door, which slammed behind them harshly, the doorframe rattling slightly eliciting a giggle from Livia as they kissed once more, frantically pawing at one another. Tugging at each other's clothes, desperately trying to peel every item away as quickly as possible.
Clothes were soon strewn across the floor, Darren practically ripped Livia's shirt from her body—a clear accident caused by overeagerness—which made Livia full-on belly laugh…near music to Darren's ears. The two of them stood in the center of the room for a heartbeat, naked and breathing heavily as if they didn't know what to do with themselves, practically drinking one another in. The enormity of everything there was between Darren and Livia spanned out before him in the blink of an eye—from the moment they met to this time now. Livia's beauty, her smile, her laugh, her personality so bright and determined, so full of light and life everything that Darren wasn't…everything that Darren hoped he could become.
There was a beat of silence as if they were listening to their hearts at that moment before that was it, they reached for one another.
They were together.
There was only Darren and Livia, a blur of kisses…of passion…of every emotion, imaginable rolled into one. As if Darren might burst from the deep-rooted core of that love suspended there between them.
They were alive.
There was only Darren and Livia in one moment of their eternity. A snapshot of their promised eternity together. Intimate and real, alive and infinite.
They were real.
Both their futures stretched out endlessly. Unknown, uncharted, unhindered, untouched by anyone but themselves.
They were free.
A/N: Yeah, and that is why I decided to post the chapter this week and not push it back...we're at the end. I don't know if this ending was a bit, I don't know, lackluster. A lot of times people end with loud bangs and excitement and action...but I tend to have those moments sprinkled throughout the story and near the ending so that I can get a sense of how these characters will react or begin to react and heal—or not heal, that sometimes happens—from what happened. The ending is about closure and technically action moments don't allow for that.
I also feel I should emphasize, from the Author's Note of the last chapter, I am not saying people should go around killing abusers or that is what happens every time—even if they do deserve it—that was not my point. My point was more no matter what happens, whether you escape abuse or the abuser dies in some way, the outcome reaction—no matter how hated the person—can be very impactful. Which goes into Darren's response to William being killed. Emotional and psychological shock from trauma is very unpredictable, people will cry or laugh or become catatonic and unresponsive. They'll get sick and have nightmares or panic attacks, they'll shake all over or feel very cold. Their eyes will dilate, hence Darren's sensitivity to the light Alfred was shining. I just really wanted to embody that reaction as something significant. I also wanted to show that while Darren was taught to ignore his feelings, to push them away, they were still there. They were still guiding his actions and behavior no matter how hard he tried things would slip through which is where the feeling of emptiness comes from after he killed William, the fear...the terror he felt because of his great-grandfather just left him, those emotions in connection to William didn't matter anymore. Would they still be there in conjunction to the past, yes, memory is very closely tied with emotion...the memory of Darren's fear and anger whenever William was there won't go away but at the moment it all just left him.
I also am not necessarily a doctor so I don't know if leaving a wound open even though it's a poisoned wound that won't stop bleeding until the cure takes effect is a good idea.
Dick's section kind of snuck up on me. I kind of wanted to go back to that little plot point with Dick and Barbara debating on doing something more for Darren and his mental wellbeing as it was brought up by Tim last chapter as well. I didn't know whether I would focus on that in the next story or now and now sort of worked, though there will be more on this if/when the next story comes out. I wanted it to be clear what Dick was calling Dinah for all those chapters ago and what he also got out of it without specifics. Dick only wants what's best for Darren but he also doesn't exactly know how to bring it up without a negative reaction. I also kind of wanted to put some emphasis on the fact that while the Bats do go to talk to Dinah, they really don't do much in the way of mental health so I wanted to have a bit on that and on the fact that I feel both Jason—reluctantly—and Barbara do a bit more for their trauma. Mental health is important and with what the Bats go through every day, they certainly need to take care of that aspect of their health as well as their physical health. I also wanted to show that despite the Bats enacting the plan there is still a lot of doubt and uncertainty in whether or not the plan will play out how they want it to; their hands are tied just as the Courts will be with Darren's terms as they would have to use the drive if the deal was refused...they would have to use the Witch's Cruid on Talia if she doesn't stick with the terms of Livia's agreement. And there would be nothing for the Bats to use against their enemies afterwards if that were to happen...so this really was a precarious and desparate plan that somehow, as far as we know, worked out.
Next, I wanted to show that despite Darren's kind of dissociative state, he will still recover and be himself despite still struggling in the aftermath of it all. That and bring up the fact that he now no longer has a functional Serum blade to taunt him...though the weapon is still in his possession. I don't know if you guys agree with the plan the Bats came up with and how everything went down. But I think it was necessary for Darren's journey...plus there is still the factor of enforcing the demands upon the Court. So how that goes down will probably not be touched upon until I start up the next story.
Finally, I toyed with the idea of Livia and Darren's first time being in this chapter or not. I am not really explicit on these matters, I do not do smut. And with Darren's history in that matter, it would have to be something that he himself initiates so trying to work that into the story was a bit difficult though I am happy with the outcome. I tried to imply what happened, like in the movie Wonder Woman with Diana and Steve, though I did go into more detail than I initially thought I would. I felt like that needed to be done slightly. But the ending of this chapter I think was pretty good, I was happy with it.
And there we have it. That's the end. This story is finished...
...though...there may be one, or two, epilogues coming your way. You'll have to stay tuned to catch them because they may or may not be uploaded. This story could end here.
I really hope you enjoyed this story. I certainly loved writing it.
If there is another story, I will need a huge ass break to write it. The chapters kind of caught up to me with this story and I started having to write them week by week which I do not like. So I would want to have most of the story written before I start posting so it will be some time before I even post the chapters. Which leaves PLENTY of time for you guys to leave some lovely REVIEWS REVIEWS REVIEWS! Let me know how I'm doing, what you like, what you dislike, theories or ideas you have for what's to come.
Finally: Happy Holidays! And keep your eyes peeled. Epilogues may be coming your way.