Chapter: 12
Livia rolled over, blinking at the bright sunlight filtering through her shades, her mind fuzzy from sleep. It had been a deep sleep, a dreamless sleep…a kind of sleep that, as of now, made Livia nervous. A few days had passed since Darren's altercation with Derek and since Livia had discovered the homicide near the jewelry store which was the origin of her cartilage piercing. The information of the murder was still fresh in her mind even as she and her friends settled back into normalcy and Darren slowly but steadily completed the work he was behind on. It was finally the weekend, but Tim informed Livia that Darren was still struggling through his coursework, determined to return on patrol. Livia was glad for the update and pleased that Darren was continuing to get through his assignments, but the feeling was muted…relief was not quite an option for Livia not with the news of the murder still dangling over her head like a pendulum.
The news disturbed her, more than any other report of murder ever would. Livia didn't remember getting the piercing, and while she liked the new earring the thought of the person who'd done the job winding up dead was concerning to say the least. Of course, there was no evidence that placed Livia at that shop around the time of the murder nor was correlation causation…but all the same Livia was not just herself, she was the Embodiment of Chaos. What if she had tapped into some unknown ability that caused the murder to happen? Or what if Klarion was still awake, aware…somewhere within her. He'd appeared in the mirror all those months ago, but the demon had since been silent; biding his time…or had the mirror message been a one-off. One last attempt to get into Livia's head and frighten her. Livia couldn't be sure and while she loved her friends and the rest of their family…she couldn't trust them with this, not yet. She didn't want to let them down; she wanted this chapter of her curse to be over. Livia had promised the Bats, her friends—in essence, her second family—that she was in control only now, every day, it became clearer that she was losing herself bit by bit, each night when she went to sleep. And yet there was also no real definitive proof that she wasn't in control. Livia knew what it would mean if Klarion did take over if it was her who committed the killing, and that scared her more than anything. She would lose everything, her father, her brother, her friends…Darren…her life, all in an instant. Constantine told her as much. The truth still evaded Livia, she couldn't imagine herself ever doing anything—
"Am I honestly considering this?" Livia mumbled, her eyes still cloudy with sleep, as she faceplanted into her pillow.
A moment of blissful near suffocation from the pillow passed pleasantly, Livia still had some time before she needed to get ready for ballet that sleepy Saturday afternoon. Livia shifted once more aiming to roll onto her side facing away from the sun only to stop at a sudden jolt of aching pain almost running down the outside of her right thigh. Panic surged and Livia twisted, panting with fearful gasps of air as she kicked off her sheets, lurching into a sitting position to see what was wrong with her leg. A slew of horrible possibilities rattled through her head, her thoughts on mobility and her ability to dance, though none of the options compared to the gleaming and still healing tattoo that Livia leveled her gaze with. Apparently, Livia had gone to sleep in shorts, though she didn't remember that, and could clearly see the blackened floral design etched into her skin, the likeness of a dragon entwined the whorls and swirls of inked roses and daffodils. Livia bit back a curse, leaping to her feet before starting to pace the length of her bedroom.
One tattoo had been fine to hide, one tattoo had been easy to glamor from sight. Protecting not only the fact that she a minor had gotten a tattoo but the fact that her father knew nothing about either of the tattoos. Livia ran a hand over her face as she paced, spinning on her heel, twisting back the way she came. She hadn't even needed to glamor the cartilage piercing; it was small enough to go unnoticed by her adoptive father. Perhaps that was the goal all along, force Livia's hand in telling her father the truth about herself, her parents, and their deaths…though what that would cause and why that would be significant was beyond Livia.
With a groan, Livia moved to spin on her heels again—to continue her stressful pacing—only to stop at the sight of the thigh tattoo in the floor-length mirror. Livia frowned, studying it, tilting her head to the side in thought. Cautiously, Livia stuck her left foot out straight, pointing her toes so they hovered gently just over the wooden floor paneling, a gentle tendu, watching as her muscles flexed. The tattoo rippled along with the muscle. Livia couldn't help the small, slow smile that gradually crossed her face. She couldn't lie, not to herself. Livia liked it. She liked this mysterious new tattoo just as she liked the mysterious new cartilage piercing.
Overall, Livia didn't know how to feel about that…or what to do about that. She could hide the tattoo…glamours were not too hard nor did they expend much energy, it was just a pain to remember they were necessary to begin with. Though the tattoo would bring questions, Livia couldn't answer those questions not without potentially putting herself at risk and not without revealing the new piercing or the bizarre coincidence of the death at the jewelry place. But while that would fool her father and fool her friends…glamour would not fool Darren. All the same, Livia knew Darren wouldn't pry, he wouldn't ask questions, not if Livia asked him not to. After all, how many times had Darren asked for the same? Though relying on Darren's silence didn't really sit well with Livia, especially when she had told Tim about the incident from earlier.
Livia worried her lip, still eyeing her leg in the mirror, wracked with uncertainty about what to do. Could this just be an aspect of being the embodiment of Chaos? Was this just a display of her newfound chaotic energy? Was indulging unknowingly in impulsive behavior and decisions just an added feature of merging with Klarion? Should Livia really be worried? How could she know the murder had anything to do with her? Why was Livia suddenly thinking she was capable of murder? Klarion was capable of murder Livia thought grimly to herself. And you've done it before, an even darker voice whispered at the back of Livia's mind. Flickers of the Talons that attacked her jumped to mind, the Talon scientist who invented the Electrum, Serum, and Cure with his final wondrous expression and jar full of yellow-green Baudelaire eyes quickly following. Livia pushed the unsettling thoughts and feeling away, crossing her arms around her torso as if to comfort herself, a frown tugging at the corners of her face. Correlation was not causation, and there's no indication that it would ever happen again. There's no motive, no reason…at least none that Livia could think of or could involve her.
A knock sounded at her door, startling Livia into throwing a glamour in place, one to cover the tattoo on her wrist and the other for her newly healing tattoo on her leg, as her father poked his head into her room,
"You better get moving if you don't want to be late," Alaric cautioned gently, giving a small smile,
"Right," Livia murmured, not returning the grin, "Thanks for the heads up." Alaric nodded, more hesitant than upon entering, before ducking out of the room once more. Livia didn't mean to be rude, but her thoughts were swirling too rapidly for mediocre pleasantries. Her father was still tiptoeing around her, and Livia was letting him. Livia also couldn't stand him when Jennifer was around, so the more he stayed out of her hair the better…not that she didn't love or care about her father. Nor was it that she was upset by his happiness. Livia just wished Alaric would be happy with someone else.
With a shake of her head, Livia turned to her bathroom, grabbing various dance items before heading in to get ready for her lessons that day. The mystery death would have to wait…but Livia would watch. She'd be observant and aware of deaths in tattoo parlors. Once was chance, twice was a coincidence and Livia didn't believe in those…not one bit. Not since moving to Gotham, not since learning about her magic, and especially not since Livia merged with a demon to save her life. If there was a lead to follow, Livia would find it.
Darren let out a stream of air, watching the flames within the fireplace flicker dangerously through the screen, tapping his pencil impatiently against the wooden edge of flooring that peeked out from under the ornate rug. He was in the living room of Wayne Manor, stretched out on his stomach with notebooks scattered around in a precarious semi-circle as if having them laid out in front of him would ease the frustrating fact that he still had mounds of homework to sort through to return to patrol. A sick feeling pulled at Darren's gut, at the reminder of why he was where he was laid out by the fire struggling through his work still. Darren felt useless…pathetic…due to his punishment, due to being benched. Unable to help during patrol, unable to use the skills he so carefully cultivated the past decade—with restraint of course—it felt as if there was an unsatiable itch just under his skin.
The need to be active, to move, to fight and defend was singing within him…despite that he could train…and yet even still, Darren knew not to push the Bats. Darren knew not to push Dick, not with the threat of Charles hanging over him. And now with being benched, why would Dick care about Darren anymore? It was already happening, the manor was quiet, and Darren was forgotten in the peaceful cold late November afternoon. It was a ridiculous notion, of course, Darren knew it whenever it flitted into his head but what else was he supposed to think? Paranoia reared its ugly head more than Darren cared to admit especially as the fear of being forgotten for Charles or even due to uselessness only grew stronger as more and more work got tacked onto Darren's already mountainous series of assignments, it was as if the universe was purposefully trying to drive a wedge between Darren, the Bats and the one thing that connected them all, that allowed them to be themselves, patrol. Moreover, what if someone got hurt, or even worse what if someone was killed doing something Darren could have done easily? Darren knew all the Bats were capable, perhaps more capable than even some of the powered Justice League members, but Darren just couldn't bear the fact that he wasn't there with them. For a large part of his time with the Bats, Darren was the one they worried about…now it was Darren's turn, and he couldn't even do anything about it, not without finishing his ever-growing abundance of schoolwork.
Ultimately Darren felt singled out. In the year Darren's been with the Bats, the majority of that time spent within the manor, no one had been grounded—sure Darren had been benched but that was because of his actions as Renegade, it was because of injury not…schoolwork. Though Tim had been grounded for getting suspended even though most of that incident wasn't his fault. Perhaps it hadn't quite been the most normal year though, a lot had been thrown at the Bats just as a lot had been thrown at Darren. Maybe Darren was vying for a reason to make himself more miserable than he already was. It was possible that Darren felt put out because in his experience any other instance of punishment wouldn't have been as mundane as 'finish all your schoolwork or you can't go on patrol with us', and he didn't know how to react to such leniency…it would have been a physical punishment in the Nest…or…or…Blackout. Darren closed his eyes at that, gritting his teeth the pencil in his hand creaking under his too-tight grip until it splintered in his hand. Though all the same, as uncertain as he was by it all…it was a relief…Darren would take their mundane punishments if it meant staying if it meant having a life…a family.
With a sigh, Darren let the pencil pieces clatter to the ground instead folding his hands underneath his chin. His mind was too cloudy to work efficiently today. He was chasing sleep more often than usual and Darren could feel himself slipping…his mind wandering more and more to darker and darker places on a whim. Watching the flames dance made Darren's eyes heavy, perhaps a small bit of rest was all he needed. Shifting slightly, settling with his cheek resting on the back of his hands Darren slowly but surely nodded off into a light doze…
…or what should have been a light doze. Darren sputtered awake in a small puddle of his own drool some indeterminate time later to the sound of his phone chiming rather obnoxiously. Darren surged to his feet, stumbling around the living room trying to find where he'd last seen his phone. No one normally called Darren, though no one really liked deciphering his texts all the same, but calling usually meant only one thing,
"Grant, Joey!" Darren cried, a smile alighting his face at the sight of his brothers waving hello through the screen. Though he was irritated with their meddling regarding Rose and by the fact that his siblings all seemed to skirt around Gotham by any means necessary…it was always gratifying and a relief to see them,
'Hey Dare!' Joey signed, using the sign name Mikey provided for Darren which he subsequently shared with his brothers. The name sign was the literal sign for 'Dare' as it applied not only to Darren's name but clearly also to his character if the little grin the nine-year-old wore as he signed it was any indication,
"Why are you ignoring Rose's calls?" Grant demanded by way of greeting, very typical of his character Darren mused to himself with a frown. Joey threw Grant a look which their eldest brother thoroughly ignored,
"Why do you care?" Darren retorted, slowly pacing the floor of the living room, his schoolwork abandoned yet again,
"Didn't we decide this whole big thing about not losing touch or letting things get between us?"
"Didn't think that meant we couldn't be allowed any privacy,"
'Dude, we've seen you throw up and shit at the same time…I don't think there's a lower bar regarding privacy for us,' Darren scowled,
"Please tell me that's not why you FaceTimed me," Darren muttered, gearing to hang up on his siblings,
"Like you have anything more important to do," Grant stated, smirking,
"Well, actually I was doing schoolwork," Darren answered, glancing over to his stacked piles of notebooks and textbooks,
"As if you give a shit about that," Grant nearly bellowed humorously. Darren had to grin; his brothers got it…they understood it all. And Darren wouldn't lie, it felt good to not be lectured about how important schooling was every other second like the Bats seemed to enjoy preaching,
"You got me there," Darren chuckled, shifting the phone in his hand, peering at the screen intently, "Where are you guys, it seems really dark…and rocky? Are you in the Alps or something? Spelunking for some warlord in the Himalayas?" Darren tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone, but he knew his brothers could pick up on it. Though they didn't seem to take Darren's bait, much like Rose when he saw her earlier. Perhaps his siblings were getting over any guilt they held over not doing more for Darren. Not that he was exploiting the guilt exactly, more so using what was owed to him…Darren had been deprived of his siblings just as they'd been deprived of each other though whereas Darren wanted to keep them close it seemed the others wanted to keep their distance even after what they promised one another. In fact, Darren's brothers merely grinned wider,
"Nah, we're a little closer to home than that little bro," Grant stated, shifting the view Darren had of the two of them to show the very identifiable series of computers in none other than the Batcave, "We figured we'd stop by—." whatever else Grant had to say was cut off, Darren was already running.
"You're glaring." Dick started, his initially crossed arms falling to his sides as he glanced down at Tim where he sat in front of the Batcomputers, typing away oblivious to the fact that two of Slade's sons were standing in the center of the Batcave. Dick re-crossed his arms, leaning back against the keyboard, careful not to disturb any of the keys, before reasserting his stare at the two brothers still chatting away with Darren on their phone,
"No, I'm not," Dick muttered, shifting slightly in his stance uncomfortable with being called out.,
"Totally glaring," Tim mused, still not looking up unperturbed by people they've fought once on a regular basis standing in the center of their home base. Dick glanced over at his younger brother and his relentless fingers flying over the keys, then at the dark rings under Tim's eyes and the numerous stains on the computers' console from coffee mugs,
"Are you okay?" Dick questioned, thoroughly distracted from his original consternation,
"Yeah, why do you ask?" the rapid clicking away of the keyboard keys finally slowing as Tim looked up at Dick, raising an eyebrow in confusion,
"Nothing, you just seem…wired," Tim grimaced, reaching for the coffee-stained mug, draining the last remaining dregs,
"I…yeah…I guess I had one coffee too many. But it's nothing. Just working on getting some background information for—ah, you know what never mind it doesn't matter. Just, you know, too much coffee," Dick squinted suspiciously at that comment not convinced,
"Do you need to speak with Leslie?" Dick asked cautiously, Tim pursed his lips, his typing resuming as he frowned,
"No. I don't," was the short reply, "I'm fine. Just working the grind. Don't try your attempt at parental guidance with me, save it for Darren,"
"Okay, wow. Fine. Forget I said anything," Tim's irritability certainly didn't support the teen's insistence that he was fine. Dick wondered if it had to do with Darren randomly attacking him or if it was centered on something else that was subconsciously bothering him,
"Dick—," whatever Tim was going to say was cut off by the sound of pounding feet bounding across the rocky cave floor and Darren's voice echoing loudly off the walls as he all but launched himself at his brothers,
"You came!" he cried, wrapping both Grant and Joey in a hug. Dick clenched his teeth together, curling his hands into fists until he felt his nails bite lightly into the palms of his hands,
"Still definitely glaring," Tim mused lightly, a slight—and apologetic—smile on his face as they both glanced over at the siblings chattering enthusiastically with each other,
"I can't exactly help it," Dick muttered, surprised by the amount of unabashed anger…or rather jealousy…that erupted from within, "It's not like I asked them to come over or anything. If I hadn't said anything who could say if they'd ever show up at all,"
"I don't think they realize how much a promise means to Darren," Tim stated quietly in agreement, his mysterious search all but forgotten,
"Or the impact of breaking one," Dick mused. Tim grimaced at that, an almost guilt-ridden expression flicking across his face before it was gone. An expression that Dick didn't quite understand. He knew Darren was keeping things from him, not necessarily just about school…but he didn't know what those secrets were. Sure, Darren was hard to reach at times, and yes perhaps Dick felt…bad…about that distance between them but he'd thought progress had been made in that regard. It seems Dick had been wrong, and that small gap was becoming more of a fissure even as he tried to get Darren to open up. It felt as if Dick was always reaching, with open arms, while Darren seemed to curl in on himself refusing to be caught…it hadn't always been this way, it seemed they had been getting closer, but ever since Darren's birthday, or rather his death day, something had changed prompting Dick and Barbara to begin furthering their plan to take Darren to a psychiatrist.
With Tim's reaction to the comment, Dick couldn't help but wonder if those secrets were between the two of them, or at least the secrets sequestered by Darren were known by Tim. Dick didn't know whether to be disheartened by the fact or to expect Darren to turn to his best friend over his guardian. Darren and Tim were very close, it had always seemed that way even while Darren shared more in common with Damian or Jason in terms of background and upbringing. For a time, it hadn't seemed fair…but Dick understood it was in part because Tim was closer in age, there was quite a gap between himself and Darren. Though Dick had hoped, had thought, that over time Darren would still open up to everyone perhaps not fully but more than he had been. Even after everything, even after all he endured and even with the Court under his thumb...Darren still struggled, struggled internally, silently. It was as if Darren was reverting, pulling inwards instead of opening outwards, even after all this time. While Dick felt uneasy and upset by the seeming setback, it was also understandable…it had been a rough few months for Darren…though it didn't quite explain the issues at school,
"Why did you even invite them over?" Tim asked, nodding to Barbara who joined them in gazing out at the siblings who were still talking a few ways away. Their voices echoed lightly off the cave walls.
It was common knowledge that the Bats did not trust or like the Wilsons and while Dick had a soft spot for Rose and even Joey, he did not have the same sentiment for Grant. The eldest of the siblings was the most like Slade, not only in looks but in action, mind, and temperament. Grant had always been a hothead and was no stranger to violence as a necessary means to an end; he'd also grown up idolizing their father. Dick had also gotten wind of what Grant said regarding schooling and Dick couldn't help but feel even more irritated by the mixed signals it gave Darren about his education, but that was a separate issue. Dick had no doubts that Grant would be found by Slade's side once again if he was ever released—or escaped—from prison. A fact that would hurt Darren more so than it would his other siblings. And something that Darren was not prepared for even after being introduced to his siblings. While in most cases it would have been a tragedy for Darren to grow up without his father and siblings as well as his mother…it was also a blessing in disguise. Though that naivety didn't bode well for the present. Darren knew relatively nothing about his siblings' pasts, only bits and pieces that were more than subjective on both Dick's part and the rest of Darren's siblings' behalf,
"I thought they'd be able to get through to him better than I could. They're not his guardians," Dick replied.
"Do you honestly think they'll learn something we won't?" Barbara mused. Dick shrugged his shoulders in response,
"I guess it's worth a shot," Tim muttered. Dick merely hummed his reply, his eyes still locked on the siblings, suspicion and jealousy still simmering within,
"Why is he so open and expressive with them? Why doesn't he hug me like that?" It slipped out, it just slipped out. Dick couldn't help it. He'd showered Darren with affection and love since it was known that they were related…it wasn't as if he expected such physical love in return. Dick understood that it was difficult for Darren to express himself or even accept affection as something positive. But that never seemed to be an issue with his siblings. He'd seen it when Darren spoke over the phone with them, he saw it at dinner with Rose and now Dick could see it in the animated way Darren spoke regardless of what was being discussed. Dick knew Darren wasn't doing it on purpose, that it wasn't intended as a slight…but the disregard still hurt more than Dick cared to admit,
"That's not it and you know it," Barbara murmured, placing a gentle hand on Dick's shoulder,
"You're around, they're not," Tim stated knowingly, "They're more of a rarity than you are…that's all it is. Excitement in the face of something new, and surprising," Dick was then reminded of what Bruce had told him not too long ago, 'Darren may value honesty and react poorly to what he sees as betrayal, but consistency is what he craves over everything else.' Perhaps that was true, but it didn't change the fact that Dick needed something more valuable than mere affirmation from his own sibling and fiancé,
"I guess—," whatever else Dick was going to say was cut off by raised voices, Darren's grey-blue eyes were narrowed, and Grant's mouth curved into a sneer with a wide-eyed Joseph in between the two trying to play mediator,
"I told you to back off about this!" Darren hissed, shoving a finger at Grant's chest,
"No, you told Rose to back off," Grant swatted Darren's hand away harshly, irritation making his actions mirror Slade's; all vicious glares and verbal lashes, "Clearly she didn't trust you to handle it as she came to us…we didn't even know—,"
"—Because it doesn't matter! It's nothing!" That didn't seem to settle the issue and the two dissolved into an unintelligible grumbling argument that Joey couldn't seem to mitigate until Darren pulled away his frame practically shaking from rage as he swept his arm in an elaborate gesture,
"Then leave! If that's the only reason you came here, just go!" Darren didn't wait for a response, merely turned on his heel and marched toward the exit to the cave,
"Yeah. Hold everyone who tries to help at arm's length. Run away from your problems Darren. That's what you're best at!" Grant crowed after his little brother. Dick winced at that, his gaze following Darren's hunched shoulders as he ascended to the Manor above. Joseph signed something angrily at Grant, to which the oldest sibling merely scoffed at before sending a glare Dick's way as if to communicate the fact that the argument was somehow his fault for asking them to come as he stalked out of the Cave Joey following him, wringing out his hands anxiously and glancing back the way their brother went. They knew the rules, no venturing above ground regardless of how much they knew of the Bats' identities their limit was the stairs to the Batcave, Dick made that painstakingly clear.
Blaming him for their argument wasn't a fair claim, Dick had no idea what they were discussing and had merely wanted to try and lift Darren's spirits enough to maybe figure out what has been affecting him enough that it reached his schooling, but clearly, Grant had other motives for their conversation or what had originally been a nice get-together veered out of control…that was not Dick's fault,
"Well, that went about as expected," Tim sighed, resuming his typing on the computers. Barbara frowned, crossing her arms,
"That didn't work. I guess it's time for the hard part?" Dick nodded grimly in agreement, realizing the difficulty in getting Darren to open up would fall to them indefinitely.
Darren bit at his lip, resisting the urge to squirm uncomfortably in his chair, eyeing his guardians warily. They all sat at the elaborately long dining table in their penthouse home, their home that was currently cluttered floor to ceiling with boxes. In the short time, it had taken to adjust to the new penthouse apartment, Dick and Babs had decided to move from their new-ish home. It made sense in the fact that there were too many people for three bedrooms home especially when the third room was used for a miniature Batcave. Dick and Barbara had settled on a townhouse with five bedrooms and a basement large enough for a home gym as well as a computer system to rival the Batcave's setup. Tim was having a blast compiling all the computers, motherboards, and coding for the custom-made monitors. The move never bothered Darren so much as all the packing did. Regardless Darren wished his guardians were in a packing frenzy rather than an intelligence hunt as they appeared to be at the moment.
It seemed Darren's diligence to catch up on his schoolwork was not enough to distract from the fact that he had fallen so behind in the first place as they had practically cornered Darren into this sit-down conversation. Well…not exactly cornered. Dick had merely asked Darren to sit down and talk with them which Darren had fallen for with ease, unsuspecting of what could only be described as an interrogation. Darren had gone soft, his suspicion nonexistent…his intuition negligent. If this were the Nest—Darren cut off that thought as soon as it swarmed into his head, a near nauseating feeling rippling through him by which the cause of this meeting and the fact that it was happening only added onto the sensation of sickness. Darren gripped the arms of the chair tightly, his knuckles white and the wood whining beneath his straining hold, staring apprehensively at Dick and Barbara. He could just leave. Darren didn't have to stay there, he didn't have to hear what they said or the questions they would ask…even so the sinking feeling, the dragging feeling of discomfort and desperation kept him pinned just as much as their loving and kind stares did. They're here to help me, not hurt me, help me not hurt me, help me not hurt me Darren pleaded silently with himself, all but pulling his knees up to his chest, and it was all Darren could do not to bolt out of the room,
"Darren. You're not in trouble. We know you are already dealing with detention at school, and you're benched from patrol until you finish your assignments. That isn't what this conversation is about," Barbara stated carefully.
Darren wrenched his head in Babs's direction. Wishing he could devour himself in some way…disappear…vanish…he knew what came next. And it was what he dreaded since starting at Gotham Academy. Darren didn't want to let them down, to think he was too far gone to relate to mundane reality…and yet here they were…all because Darren couldn't cope. Well…he could cope, and Darren grimaced at that thought, his gaze unwittingly dropping to his arms, only not in a way that was maintainable even if providing a release from the intensity of Darren's thoughts and emotions. No rings of bitemarks were present, though the glaring reminder of what else could break this senseless freefall of panic and dread that washed over Darren even at the prospect of a normal conversation—perhaps because Darren knew it to be a lie—only worsened the already precarious swirl of uncertainty that railed against Darren's internal fragile glass wall. It felt as if Darren would burst, but he managed to set his teeth and ground out some form of response,
"I got in trouble once…and it wasn't even a violent encounter. I wasn't a danger to anyone…I didn't lose control," Darren bit out, his teeth clacking at the last assertion knowing it was somewhat false. Darren had lashed out at Tim, physically as well as verbally. He knew both Dick and Barbara remembered that, but they didn't say anything about Darren's inadvertent lie…at least not yet,
"Is that what you think this is about?" Dick asked softly, "That we're upset about you standing up for a friend? That we're concerned you might hurt someone? We know the punishment the Headmaster gave was bogus, we know what happened. And we know you wouldn't hurt anyone at the Academy, not intentionally. We trust you." Darren shifted in his seat at that, uncertain about the gentle praise…that resonating phrase. We trust you, we trust you, we trust you…Darren was unsure of whether to trust that, to trust the faith Dick seemed to have in him,
"You're not in trouble," Barbara repeated, Darren felt no better than before, perhaps he knew he wasn't in trouble it was the fact of addressing the issues concerning himself and the Academy that had him so on edge,
"Though the recent issues Alverstone brought up…are somewhat concerning—," Dick started, looking somewhat lost on how to continue his sentence,
"—And we were hoping to understand why," Babs finished, looking hopefully at Darren. The expression on Barbara's face felt like a physical blow…because Darren knew he'd inevitably disappoint her, both of them,
"Why?" Darren repeated dumbly…perhaps he was stalling or maybe genuinely didn't understand what they were hoping to achieve from this conversation from trying to poke and prod for answers that Darren could barely understand himself,
"Why," Barbara echoed, earnestly, "Can you tell us why you miss your classes?" The avoided word 'skip' dangled in the air between them. It seemed Babs thought that was a safe place to start. It was specific to Darren; it was his choice to miss—skip—class…his choice to disappear to the 'bathroom' only to never return until near the end of class. Wandering the halls, aimlessly trotting around the campus, up to the roof…drifting mindlessly…maybe listening to an audiobook or watching something on his phone. It was more peaceful than the chaos of the classroom. The glaring face of a teacher before him, the students snickering and whispering, pencils scratching, pages fluttering, eyes everywhere. It seemed safer than the unknown, safer from the judgment of others, just safer away from their intense stares.
It wasn't always like that to Darren…the rooms weren't always stifling, filled to the brim with painful memories that leapt up teeth bared at Darren. Not every class was a walking waking nightmare. Some days Darren could stomach it…others, it was unbearable. The walls shrinking in on Darren, the echoing phantom laugh of William or the Owlman ringing in his ear, telling him he was worthless, broken, pathetic. The buzzing silence, interrupted only by a teacher or student, simultaneously excruciating as it was exhausting…and Darren lived in fear, abject terror, of ever accidentally falling asleep in class—especially after bad nights where he lay awake for hours on end insufferable demons eating away at his mind—the fallout of waking up from a nightmare, screaming…panicking…even crying…enough to make Darren want to vanish, to run, to disappear. So that is what Darren did.
Darren remained silent, Barbara's question remaining unanswered,
"What about your refusal to participate in class?" Dick asked, "Can you try and talk to us about that? Maybe we can help, or we can work with Al to find a solution if you can tell us what is preventing you from taking part," Darren grimaced at the mention of Al…eyeing Dick and Barbara carefully, wondering if it would be worth it to throw them a bone.
Perhaps they would drop the conversation if he gave them a morsel…a small piece of himself and his problems at Gotham Academy. It wasn't that Darren didn't trust his guardians…he did. But that trust, that care, disappeared in the context of the Academy only because Darren did not want to disappoint them. They were never supposed to know, they were supposed to be blissfully unaware because how could Darren tell them that what they tried to do for Darren, the good they tried to provide for him, had failed so exceptionally? Darren didn't want to hurt them; he didn't want them to doubt themselves in their efforts to care for him and his wellbeing. Most importantly, Darren didn't want Dick or Barbara to blame themselves for Darren's inability to function socially...beyond the scope of the Bats. Darren couldn't relate, he couldn't assimilate…he was too far gone. The damage of the Court of Owls too deep. The fear of the Court of Owls abusing any relation Darren ever made hung over him unendingly,
"T-the teacher's always asking me to read in class,"
"They know about your dyslexia," Barbara stated gently, "They're probably trying to push you to work through it," Darren grimaced at that, curling his lip with disdain,
"I don't like it…it seems like they do it to embarrass me on purpose," Darren mumbled, looking anywhere but Dick and Barbara. It didn't feel great to be reciting his shortcomings, even if he didn't particularly care about schooling, he did care about his difficulty with reading, writing, and more often than not math. It was worse with all the kids there, staring, waiting at him to follow through and embarrass himself as he stumbled through the assigned passage…a reading that was a breeze to all of them. It was easier to be difficult…it was somehow more acceptable to the other students than failing miserably,
"I'm sure that's not the case, but you…or we…can ask Al to step in if it really is bothering you so much,"
"Don't bother," Darren muttered blandly, "It's pointless,"
"What about your other classes?" Dick questioned, after a momentary pause. Darren merely shrugged. It was all the same in a sense, the demands, the overbearing authority the risk of a grade for simply not wanting to do something…the discretion given to the teachers never sat very well with Darren so perhaps he refused to speak up when asked or read when asked or work in groups when asked. Perhaps it was wrong or petty, but Darren didn't care. It was all he could do when everything else seemed too overbearing, no other outlet was available without drawing attention or questions neither of which Darren wanted to deal with. It was his only means of control within the confines of Gotham Academy…no matter the penalty, "What about the issues with PE?"
"I don't want to talk about that," Darren barked scathingly. Dick and Barbara exchanged an alarmed glance at his sudden outburst,
"Why not?" Barbara asked, raising an eyebrow in concern,
"I just don't," Darren answered shortly, feeling frazzled. It was a pointless thing to get so bothered by, but it hit way too close to Darren's insecurities and his secrets…and he didn't want Dick or Barbara involved if it meant potentially revealing that part of himself before he was ready. Dick and Barbara's expressions morphed from confusion to that of parental concern,
"Darren…if something is happening at school—," Dick started,
"No, it's not—it's not anything important—," Darren interjected, the feeling of overwhelming helplessness, irritation, and frustration brewing dangerously within him. Darren never wanted this conversation in the first place, he was content with his guardians' relative unawareness and now because of Alverstone everything had been upended leaving Darren struggling to adjust while working simultaneously to maintain everything as it had once been,
"—then we need to know!" Dick continued on oblivious to Darren's mounting distress,
"Just stop. Stop it! Just leave me alone!" Darren yelled, surprising even himself as he slammed his hands on the table…the tempest within himself needed an outlet, a release...something.
The resounding crack echoed harshly in the room, silencing everyone speaking over one another, as the end of the table split in two clattering jarringly against the floor. Darren sat back, heart thudding uncomfortably in his chest, staring into Dick and Barbara's wide, stunned eyes. Was it fear…or disappointment…anger…something else? Darren didn't know, he couldn't tell…all he knew was that he had frightened them…or alarmed them…he did something to shake them,
"I-I…I'm sorry. I-I'm…I'm so sorry," Darren stuttered, jerking up to his feet and stumbling away from the broken table. This wasn't the point of the conversation. Darren wanted to humor them, to soothe their worries so they wouldn't breathe down his neck or wonder about him and his schooling…but Darren felt cornered and out of control and he'd acted on that wayward emotion,
"Dare," Dick started, moving to stand only to stop as Darren skittered back another two steps,
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry," Darren stated again,
"It's okay," Barbara stated softly, "Please Darren, sit down," Darren merely shook his head, muttering another round of apologies before hurrying to his room, shutting the door firmly in place as he tried to calm his ragged breathing curling his trembling hands into tight bloodless fists as if that would stop the raging, wild, turbulent, and mindless emotions warring within Darren's ravaged mind.
Darren blinked as a knock on his bedroom door sounded, jerking from a mindless haze as he forcibly unclenched his hand from a clump of his bedding before noting the sinking orange tint of the early evening sun leaking through his window. He hadn't realized how much time had passed since his conversation with Dick and Barbara went awry. A sweeping sensation of bitterness prickled down Darren's spine at the thought of that meeting. Forcefully, Darren pushed those bleak tempest thoughts from his mind, focusing on the present…on how he found himself where he was, locked away in his room. Darren vaguely remembered stumbling into his room, panicked gasps of air forcing rough coughs through his frame, and kicking Mike, who sat on the bed playing video games on his iPad, out. The second bedroom was now technically 'their' bedroom, hence the need to move and the newly installed bunkbed attachment to the four-poster bed Darren had originally, built by Dick and Bruce one afternoon. Beyond those moments was essentially a blur and Darren had no energy or care to wonder what he'd done in the time since those moments. He felt out of it, but the steady knock from the door had pulled him to alertness. Swallowing thickly Darren shifted to face the entryway into the room,
"Come in," he monotoned. A second later Dick poked his head in glancing around the room as if surprised to find it all in one piece…and he was right to be after what happened to all the robots in the Batcave. This was a milder moment of Darren's errant moods…docile in comparison yet just as haunting. Dick stepped fully into the room, closing the door lightly behind him leaving just barely a crack open, something Darren was minutely grateful about. For all their differences and often miscommunications…Dick still understood so much of Darren in ways that Darren himself did not,
"That was not how we wanted the conversation to go," Dick started, "And we know we shouldn't have pushed you…even if we are concerned about the things that seem to be bothering you at the Academy. Just know that when you're ready, we're here to listen. No matter how long it takes for you to be ready and comfortable…we'll be here." Darren merely nodded, his hooded gaze jaded and sullen. Dick gave him a tight smile, his dark blue gaze as bright as it was dejected…sad…dissolute. Darren couldn't bare it. As much as Dick couldn't bare Darren's volatile moods, neither could Darren take Dick's unhappiness on his behalf,
"I heard you," the words rattled down his throat as he said them, stopping Dick's retreat from the room,
"What?" Dick questioned, turning back to face him,
"I heard you in the Batcave," Darren couldn't help the bitterness in his tone at the thought of his brother's visit. Grant and Joey had been a welcome distraction or would have been if they weren't so insistent on continuing Rose's lecture about Slade and his supposed precognitive abilities. Grant's grating call as he ran out from their conversation still echoed shamefully in his head. Run away from your problems Darren. That's what you're best at! Run away from your problems Darren. That's what you're best at! Run away, Run away, Run away, Run away! The worst part was that Grant wasn't wrong…and that was exactly what Darren had done then and again with the conversation Dick and Barbara tried to have with him. He'd done it his whole life...it was easier, it was a familiar means of survival. Dick slowly moved closer, sitting lightly on the edge of Darren's bed, looking embarrassed and concerned,
"I didn't mean—," Dick started,
"—It's different," Darren interrupted, he needed to get this out. He needed Dick to know, to understand this aspect of himself…that while he didn't show it or was overt in his affection, he still held Dick in the highest regard. Dick held most, if not all, of Darren's trust, love, and respect…he was his family…above all else Dick meant everything to Darren. Dick had saved him over and over, kept him safe, cared for, protected, and loved in a way Darren hadn't experienced since his mother died. Darren cared about everyone—all the Bats and Livia, perhaps even Bruce—they each filled a piece of Darren's heart, mind, and soul…but Dick outshined them all by far. And yet, Dick still didn't see that…or perhaps Darren hadn't been the most forward with his cousin. It wasn't easy for Darren. Letting that trust, that care, be known was dangerous as was caring about anyone. But Darren wasn't in the Nest anymore…even if the Court still existed, "—With them, I mean, it's different,"
"Oh?" Darren could hear the waver in Dick's voice, the hurt, and gritted his teeth. It wasn't right, that wasn't how Darren meant for it to come out. It wasn't a negative, it wasn't supposed to be hurtful. He could never say this in a way that anyone else would understand. Letting out a deep calming breath, Darren tried again,
"Grant and Joseph…they're outside of it all…outside all of this," Darren gestured vaguely, emphasizing everything encompassing their current problems, "They're out of reach…out of mind. The Court doesn't care about them. They're insignificant. But you…you're still the Gray Son…to the Court you could still have use.
"They could still want to convert you, to use me against you or you against me…because they know how much that would influence you. And they know how badly that would destroy me…to see you taken, locked away in their labyrinth of torture and…and…misery. Trapped in their games of mindless killing. I-I…I couldn't bear it…I couldn't let that happen to you," Darren rattled on breathlessly, the mere thought of the Court being anywhere near Dick leaving him agitated and panicked. Dick looked taken aback, his eyes were wide, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but Darren wasn't finished, he couldn't let only that aspect of what held Darren back emotionally from his cousin hang in the air between them,
"Grant and Joey don't have that threat, they're not involved…and Ra's is a nonissue now. They're just my brothers, not pawns in a larger game of control and devastation. But if I let myself go if I let myself appear close…unguarded…at ease…with you the Court will know exactly how much of a pawn you can be, and they would love the opportunity to reignite the Gray Son lineage alongside a Crowne Owl,"
"And you'd do that?" Dick questioned finally, his voice cracking slightly ringing with emotion that Darren couldn't quite place or feel, "You would give up your freedom, your happiness…everything you've gained in this past year…for me? If they somehow used me like you think they would?" Darren nodded, and though his voice wavered he didn't hesitate with his answer,
"In a heartbeat," It would be terrible…painful…agonizing to part with the life Darren managed to carve out for himself. It would hurt to leave Tim and Steph, Dick and Barbara, Damian and the Dogs, Alfred, and Alfred the Cat…maybe even Bruce…it would be devastating to leave Livia, but he would do it to keep them safe. Darren could survive the Court, he has for over a decade…but he wouldn't survive the Court hurting Dick, or turning him into the Gray Son Talon William had always wanted, Darren wouldn't be able to deal with anyone he cared about being forced through the hell he lived with for ten years,
"Is…is that why—with everyone?" Dick questioned incredulously. Darren nodded numbly in answer—it was an oversimplification of the complexity of Darren's inner mind and behavior, but it was close enough to the truth of the matter—though Dick was already slowly shaking his head as if he couldn't quite believe it, "No…no, Darren no. That won't happen. You don't have to repress yourself like that, there's no need for that kind of protection. I-I know that's not entirely where your apathy stems from, but don't deny yourself the relationships you want…or need. The Court can't do anything…they can't touch us, and they certainly can't get to me. I am safe, you are safe, and our family is safe and will stay that way. Be selfish, indulge in these relationships…don't hold back as a means of protection. Not with us, not with your friends. We're safe, and we'll stay safe…yes? Okay?" Darren almost couldn't find his voice, though he nodded and croaked out a weak response,
"…Okay," Dick reached for him, and Darren almost blindly fell into the embrace for once welcoming the feeling of—numbed—but steadying comfort,
"We'll be okay," Dick promised, holding him close… Darren would admit it felt nice to be held…though as Darren stared blankly over his cousin's shoulder, it didn't register, not as heavily as the truth. Not as severely as the fact that this was a game of power and deception and control…Darren had made his move with the flash drive and blackmail…it was only a matter of time before the Court made its move. And Darren had no idea what that would be, he didn't know what to expect…anything was on the table. All Darren could do was hold everyone at arm's length, keeping them safe through his indifference…though even Darren knew there was only so long such deception could hold, if at all. They were all in danger.
A/N: I hope you liked this chapter! I honestly really enjoyed writing it, in fact, I actually had two versions of Darren, Dick, and Babs' conversation. The second is from Dick's POV. I couldn't decide which to put into the chapter and overall decided to put the second POV into the author's note regardless of which was in the main story. You guys get both perspectives!
With Livia's section, it was more to explain what she had seen in the last chapter in more depth as well as push her own narrative/storyline along. The question of her section is really...where is this new influence coming from. Is it her, is it Klarion, is it a combination...and does Livia really like what she is seeing in terms of the tattoo and the earring, or is that something else within her telling her, making her, think that? Is Livia truly making these decisions and choices...or is something else telling her this is what she wants. Is some other force telling her to keep these things from her family and friends or is her silence actually logical? Where does Livia end and the Essence of Klarion begin? Is that even what's happening? Is that how the Merge works, there's a semblance of Klarion still within Livia? What does that mean if it is? Or is this something else entirely...separate from Klarion and the Baudelaires?
Darren's sections both further this idea and plan that Dick and Barbara want to get him better-suited help. They're pushing small baby steps, trying to see how Darren might react and they're not really convinced that this point in time is when they should 'make their move.' But they're also trying to help Darren without other kinds of intervention, they know the risk that would also bring to them even if it helps Darren in the long run. And Darren of course doesn't see that. He is still super focused on just surviving school. Just surviving being benched and the new chaos that's been added to his life...ie Charles, Lydia possibly operating behind his back, his newfound-ish abilities he inherited from his father...and they while trying to maintain this invisible standard that he thinks Barbara and Dick, and even the rest of the Bats have for him. It's a lot of tip-toeing from both ends; and you're starting to see it impact other Bats, not just Darren, Livia, and Tim.
Now, without further ado! Dick's POV of the school convo (it's not too different, but there are definitely divergent observations and considerations you'll get with Dick's POV than with Darren's):
Dick stared solemnly over at his cousin, giving him a once over from his seat at their wooden dining table trying not to portray too much severity and seriousness in his expression and posture. Since Grant and Joseph didn't work in easing the truth from Darren regarding his recent incidents in school…Dick and Barbara would try and seek insight from Darren himself. They thought GA would help Darren, and bring him out of his shell. Get him to meet other people, to interact with other people, and perhaps even branch out from his own inner circle of Tim, Steph, and Livia. They thought it would help with his apparent paranoia and anxiety…the panic he felt in certain situations and the near-icy demeanor in other moments. Overall, they wanted to give Darren a piece of normality alongside the chaos that was the other half of their lives. They never wanted to hurt him or put him into a situation where he felt unsafe…to the point where he would actively cause trouble or disruptions.
No kid was perfect, Dick and Barbara certainly weren't. They've had their moments; they've had their fights and they've skipped certain classes. They understood it was inevitable as a teenager. That was not the problem. The issue was the fact that they knew Darren…and they knew he would only act if driven to this sort of behavior. Darren didn't care…he wouldn't care enough unless pushed to a certain point. He cared about the Bats' opinions. He cared about his friends' opinions. He cared about Livia's opinions…but when it came to others and other figures of authority…there was nothing. And that was why this talk was necessary…because something was wrong, and it wasn't just Darren's normally volatile moods. It was that but something else, something more. Dick needed to know what was happening to drive Darren to act out so noticeably…and perhaps this could help them find a solution where Darren could continue at GA alongside his friends without such difficulties.
Darren looked like he wanted to bolt. He held himself so rigidly, like a statue, in his chair though he thrummed with intense energy…practically vibrating with it as if he would lunge through the air away from this conversation or perhaps like he wished he could disappear. His hands clutched at the arms of the dining chair, the wood creaking dangerously in his too-tight grip. Darren's gaze darted around, antsy as if trying to find any vaguely stimulating visionary thing within the penthouse, anything that kept his gaze from remaining stationary…from focusing on the issue at hand.
Their home was currently cluttered floor to ceiling with boxes. In the short time, it had taken to adjust to the new penthouse apartment, Dick and Babs had decided to move from their new-ish home. It made sense in the fact that there were too many people for a three-bedroom home especially when the third room was used for a miniature Batcave. Dick and Barbara had settled on a townhouse with five bedrooms and a basement large enough for a home gym as well as a computer system to rival the Batcave's setup. Tim was having a blast compiling all the computers, and motherboards and coding for the custom-made monitors. The idea of moving didn't seem to bother Darren, and Mikey was rather excited by it, eager to have a room to himself…Dick didn't mind either though the actuality of packing and moving was toiling. But that was beside the point, it was clear that Darren knew why they called him to the dining room…and because of that knowledge, he was on edge. Dick, as Darren finally stilled his gaze, leveling it at the wooden table—not either of his guardians' eyes—and pulled his knees up to his chest wrapping his arms around them in a near protective movement, tried not to glance at Barbara to see if she noticed the intensity of Darren's discomfort, he knew what he saw she definitely noticed. After another beat of silence, Barbara finally parsed out what to say…how to begin addressing the reason they were all meeting this way and why,
"Darren. You're not in trouble. We know you are already dealing with detention at school and you're benched from patrol until you finish your assignments. That isn't what this conversation is about," Barbara stated carefully. Darren's gaze darted over to Barbara as she spoke, eyes wide and disbelieving. Dick nodded minutely with his agreement with Babs's statement, already feeling the weight this conversation would have on all of them. He wished this wasn't so much like pulling teeth with Darren…and it wasn't really his fault…but sometimes that's how it was. And Dick could only ride the rapids of those moments alongside Darren,
"I got in trouble once…and it wasn't even a violent encounter. I wasn't a danger to anyone…I didn't lose control," Darren bit out. Dick grimaced at his bitter tone, and refrained from the urge to mention that he had lashed out at Tim, physically and verbally,
"Is that what you think this is about?" Dick instead asked softly, while Barbara had already made that point, it was clear Darren needed the elaboration, "That we're upset about you standing up for a friend? That we're concerned you might hurt someone? We know the punishment the Headmaster gave was bogus, we know what happened. And we know you wouldn't hurt anyone at the Academy, not intentionally. We trust you." Darren squirmed in his chair, uncertainty glimmering in his eyes from that gentle praise,
"You're not in trouble," Barbara repeated, though her reassurance did nothing to ease the visible tension in Darren's shoulders, on his face…in his eyes,
"Though the recent issues Alverstone brought up…are somewhat concerning—," Dick started, losing steam…unsure of where he wanted to go on with his statement or how he wanted his next thoughts to be laid out. This was unknown territory…for all of them,
"—And we were hoping to understand why," Babs finished, looking over at Darren hopefully. The carefully constructed mask that Darren wore wavered fractionally…crumpling into a grimace as if pained by Barbara's statement before smoothing over once more, becoming still and unexpressive. Dick wished he could break through that practiced act of protection. They weren't trying to hurt Darren…that was the farthest thing from their minds. Though Dick knew that sometimes, help and hurt had the potential to be one and the same…which had him questioning his and Barbara's approach, yet there was no way to backtrack they had to see this through to the end,
"Why?" Darren repeated mutedly as if that word did not compute…as if there was no resolution to understand,
"Why," Barbara echoed, earnestly, "Can you tell us why you miss class?" It seemed Babs thought that was a safe place to start. It was specific to Darren; it was his choice to miss class…his choice to disappear for an indeterminant amount of time. Dick wondered where his cousin went, what he did if anything, and what he thought…perhaps understanding the urge to leave, to disappear into the halls of the Academy would bring them closer to understanding Darren overall.
Darren remained silent, stubbornly silent, though his hands gripped the fabric of his sweatpants tightly, twisting the material around and around into mired clumps. Barbara's question remained unanswered, the stretch of silence growing and growing until Dick couldn't take it, jumping onto the next point of contention,
"What about your refusal to participate in class?" Dick asked, "Can you try and talk to us about that? Maybe we can help, or we can work with Al to find a solution if you tell us what is preventing you from taking part."
Darren's expression flickered at the mention of Al, morphing into something of disdain before smoothing over once again. His gaze met both Dick's and Barbara's as if weighing something…perhaps wondering if it was worth it to throw his guardians some kind of bone. Dick would take anything to the screaming silence that lay between the three of them…anything to ease Darren's discomfort, whether substantial or not…he couldn't stand it, just sitting there unable to know what to do for their kid,
"T-the teacher's always asking me to read in class," Darren finally rumbled, disgruntled by revealing that information. Perhaps not much, but it was something,
"They know about your dyslexia," Barbara stated gently, "They're probably trying to push you to work through it," Darren grimaced at that, curling his lip yet again with something akin to disdain,
"I don't like it…it seems like they do it to embarrass me on purpose," Darren mumbled, looking anywhere but Dick and Barbara. He seemed embarrassed or ashamed to rehash his supposed shortcomings which were odd…Darren didn't seem to care about his schooling, yet he felt upset by his inability to feel comfortable participating or achieving what his peers seemed to do so easily. Either way, Darren clearly didn't want to discuss this issue, though it seemed the easiest of what was bothering him to talk about. A conundrum indeed,
"I'm sure that's not the case, but you…or we…can ask Al to step in if it really is bothering you so much,"
"Don't bother," Darren muttered, "It's pointless," Dick frowned at that, unsure as to whether the sullen statement was brought on by his uncaring attitude towards school in general or something else entirely,
"What about your other classes?" Dick questioned, after a momentary pause...debating whether to push Darren on what he previously said but opted for moving along with the conversation instead. Darren merely shrugged unbothered, another non-answer,
"Okay. What about the issues with PE?" Dick asked, not wanting to dwell on the silence,
"I don't want to talk about that," Darren barked scathingly. Dick exchanged an alarmed glance with Barbara at Darren's sudden outburst. It was the most emotion he showed all evening, all throughout their conversation. Dick didn't want to, but he knew they needed to push…just a little, just enough to get an idea about what might be going on during PE that could somehow relate to Darren's behavior at GA,
"Why not?" Barbara asked, raising an eyebrow in concern,
"I just don't," Darren answered shortly, seeming frazzled. Agitated,
"Darren…if something is happening at school—," Dick started, his expression morphing from confusion and surprise to that of parental concern,
"No, it's not—it's not anything important—," Darren interjected, seeming distressed…restless…edging on frantic,
"—then we need to know!" Dick couldn't help but press for a more concrete answer, he could see the discomfort and mounting strain building within Darren's movements but continued on…eager, no desperate, for information for an understanding of some kind. Dick knew he shouldn't push, he knew Darren had limits, everyone had limits, everyone had breaking and boiling points…and with Darren, those were often one and the same,
"Just stop it! Stop it! Just leave me alone!" Darren yelled, seemingly surprised by his own mounting alarm eyes wide with unabashed panic, as he moved, jerking his arms up before slamming his hands on the table.
The resounding crack echoed harshly in the room, silencing everyone speaking over one another, as the end of the table cleaved in two clattering jarringly against the floor. Darren jerked back staring into Dick and Barbara's wide, stunned eyes…Dick could see that anger, frustration, and agitation bleed away into an emotion he knew well: fear,
"I-I…I'm sorry. I-I'm…I'm so sorry," Darren stuttered, jerking up to his feet and stumbling away from the broken table eyeing Dick and Barbara warily, as if they might lurch after him…lunge for him teeth gnashing. His voice stammering away into faint murmurings as he tentatively backed away from them. Dick wanted to get up, wanted to go after him…but he willed himself to stay seated, he would run. Bruce was right, Darren would run if cornered and while that wasn't necessarily how the conversation started, it had morphed its way into exactly that and now Darren was retreating…reverting, reliving the aftermath of an outburst such as that would have caused within the Nest, with the Powers…the means of avoidance and fear and atonement,
"Dare," Dick started, moving to stand—he couldn't help it, his heart ached for his cousin, he couldn't stand Darren thinking they were angry with him—only to stop as Darren skittered back another two steps,
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry," Darren stated again,
"It's okay," Barbara stated softly, "Please Darren, sit down," Darren merely shook his head, muttering another round of apologies before hurrying to his room, shutting the door firmly in place. Silence encompassed the room once again and Dick let out a breath, he hadn't realized he'd been holding before dropping his head to his hands,
"I shouldn't have done that," he muttered, "I-I shouldn't have…I need to go in there, I need to talk with him—," Dick moved to stand only to stop as Barbara's gentle, but firm hand gripped his arm pulling him back to his seat,
"No…just, just give him a minute. Let him process…reset. We overstepped. We pushed when we shouldn't have…and now we know,"
"Now we know," Dick echoed in agreement, letting out another sigh,
"We have a place to start in trying to unearth this…mystery. The source of Darren's problems at school must be whatever the issue is in PE. That's something at least," Dick nodded silently,
"It's something," he repeated, toeing the broken piece of the dining table. The silence stretched yet again between them, still too stunned by the sudden turn of events mulling over their own thoughts when,
"I always hated this table," Barbara stated flatly, causing Dick to jerk his head up at her sudden statement. He blinked over at her, the serious expression, the bluntness of the statement, "I've wanted a new one for a really long time," Dick burst out laughing…Barbara joined in a moment later, the sound breaking the spell over them both. Barbara stood to inspect the fresh jagged seam from the break while Dick moved to pick up the broken pieces. Dick knew he needed to speak with Darren, to ease his nerves and fears as much as he could, but that could wait…he would give Darren his time.