Disclaimer: I Don't Own Young Justice!
WARNING: nothing really...
13 years ago...
Creek…
Long shadows danced across the bare walls.
The foundations of the large house groaning.
Even the bed beneath him squeaked and reeled.
It was quiet, too quiet. Every tiny sound reached his ears.
He held his breath half expecting a monster to suddenly jump out at him.
It was ridiculous, he knew. He was too old to be scared of night monsters. But the room was so quiet and still it left him restless. It was nothing like the roaring sound of the railroad crashing against the wheels of the train. Nothing like the constant whispering between his cousins, Nothing like a tired John telling them to go to sleep already or the Moroi would come steal them away.
Nothing like home.
And yet even after so many sleepless nights in this place the Moroi still hadn't come to take him away.
But maybe monsters only lived in happy places to ruin people's joy. And maybe they only stole happy children to make their parents sad.
Maybe, just maybe they only stole from families that had not yet been broken.
In that case, he was safe from all the monsters that haunted his dreams.
But it didn't rid him of his fear or his nightmares.
Sometimes at night he dreamt that a dark monster lived within this very house. Hidden from the people living in it. And that generation after generation it grew stronger and bigger, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
He shivered against his sheets, tugging his small stuffed elephant to his chest.
The same elephant plushie that just months ago he had told John he was too old for.
But now, now it was all he had left, and he valued it as if it were gold.
Sometimes he would talk to her, it was babyish he knew. But hadn't she lost everything too?
Maybe she understood his pain.
Maybe Zitka understood.
Suddenly the door handle turned. The eight year-old yanked the covers over his head and buried his face into his pillow.
The door slowly creaked open.
Heart pounding, he held his breath.
He heard footsteps approaching the bed. Was it a monster? Surely not.
Someone grunted and the sound of something getting bumped into reached his ears. Then abruptly something clattered to the floor much too loudly.
Silence.
Dick could practically hear the person- or monster cringing.
"Oops." they muttered.
The ground creaked and it sounded as if someone was placing something back onto a shelf.
Then a sound of second footsteps reached his ears. And an all too familiar scolding voice spoke into the room,
"Master Bruce, What on earth are you doing?" It whispered.
"I was just checking on the kid." The monster-no Bruce Wayne replied.
"Let him sleep, he doesn't need your bumbling around in his room." The butler scolded sternly.
"Right, right- sorry." The younger man whispered, his footsteps leading out of the room.
Dick felt himself relax against the mattress.
Not a monster, just a man.
Just as soon as he had come he had left, and now the door was closed securely.
The eight year-old peaked his head out from under the covers, eyes scanning the room.
Everything looked the same except for the fact that there was now a book on his dresser. It hadn't been there before he thought. It must have fallen when Mr. Wayne had come in.
His blue eyes studied the front cover.
In big bold letters it read The Very Friendly Owl. It was a picture book that one of his distant relatives had given him on Thanksgiving. He remembered the day so clearly.
He had been so excited when he was given the book, after all he had never had his own book in his life. In fact he had rarely seen any books his entire life. The only book that his parents had owned was their family bible. But even then he hadn't been allowed to hold it, It was valuable to his parents and they hadn't wanted anything to happen to it.
That's why he had been so happy with a book of his own. He remembered the first time he had held it. His fingers tracing the fabric that held all the pages together, all the colorful pictures popping out at him. And the words, so many words. English Letters and symbols he hadn't understood.
It had been tricky at first, but with his mothers help he had learned most of the words in the book.
He smiled to himself, remembering the quiet nights after long performances. His mothers arm around him as they read, the taste of homemade peanut butter cookies, and the aroma of fresh popcorn still floating through the air.
His eyes landed once again on the front cover of the picture book. It was probably his favorite part of the entire book.
It featured a big owl with a big smile that had its wing wrapped around a smaller owl, protecting it.
It made him feel safe, as if he were being watched over too.
He smiled, staring into the owl's eyes as he slowly drifted off to sleep.
Safe.
Safe from the monsters that haunted him.
Safe.
Safe under the owl's watchful gaze.
The Talon stood silently within his containment pod, staring off into the dark chamber of the Talons.
He could feel the freezing air began to surround him, and he knew in just moments he would be frozen in peaceful slumber.
He wasn't afraid though. And how could he be when not so far away the great owl stood watching over him.
No, he was very much at peace.
He gazed up at the owl as the freeze glazed over him.
Safe.
Safe under the owl's watchful gaze.
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