Chapter: 2
"Would you please keep your eyes on the road," Darren hissed at his cousin through gritted teeth whilst staring decisively out the windshield of the car as Dick effortlessly weaved his way through Gotham late afternoon traffic?
A feeling of uneasiness rippled through Darren, sitting heavily and haughtily on his shoulders. Unable to decide how he felt regarding the events that unfolded in the police precinct and the implied consequences of his actions, with the boy and with the meaning of the dagger—Darren could only stare out the window as a means to distract himself from the inner turmoil he felt. Dick was clearly egging for some kind of statement, a defense perhaps…some means of understanding, which he wouldn't get until Darren was sure of the new dagger's implication.
Dick stifled a sigh and turned his gaze back to the road, knowing Darren's strictness was not necessarily just for road safety but rather his fear of the road itself. From the white-knuckled grip Darren had on the door handle, to the thinly hidden flinches of unexpectedly close or swerving nearby cars…Darren's fear of vehicles had not dwindled since his time among the Bats or despite the fact that he was a Talon. Darren's mother, Amanda Crowne the granddaughter of William Cobb, had been killed in a car crash ordered by the Court of Owls. Darren had witnessed the entire thing and he could still see the equal fear and determination in his mother's crystalline green eyes through the car window as it drove away at full speed towards the intersection in almost every car that sped by as well as the image of his great-grandfather behind the wheel eager for death.
The purpose of his mother's death was to either reveal the Crowne family secret, a flash drive containing damaging information on the Court…enough to potentially dismantle the entire operation…or kill anyone who knew the secret. The Court's true intention in their decision to keep Darren alive, to train him to be a Talon, and to use him in their conquest of Gotham, still didn't quite make sense to him. Before Darren thought they wanted him for the Crowne fortune…but later found it was because his mother had hidden the flash drive secret in a lullaby, something he could never truly forget. The Court wanted that drive, potentially to see what was actually on it…what damage could have truly been possible…or perhaps because something important to the Court itself was digitized there. Tim was still sifting through the contents of the flash drive, compiling a list of various things on the drive that could be useful as well as looking for more information on the Court the Bats did not know of beforehand.
Had Amanda known that the Court would spare Darren if William had been forced to kill her instead? Had she known that they would steal Darren away, cover everything up and send him to hell on Earth? Or was it all just chance? Too many witnesses, too many people willing to save and protect a young child. Had they wanted to keep Darren the whole time…had he truly been what the Court was after? Perhaps he was the price for Amanda's silence on the secret. They would take Darren away to train and eventually turn him into a Talon if she didn't give up the drive. Or at least it was clear they threatened something along those lines to drive his mother into destroying every piece of evidence save the flash drive which she hid away in a place only a Crowne could gain access. It all seemed like a never-ending game of cat and mouse, one that was continuing with Darren at the helm,
"Why did you do it?" Dick finally asked, glancing over at Darren for a millisecond before being cowed back into safe driving by Darren's intense glare,
"You'll have to be more specific," Darren murmured mutely. Why did Darren do it…that was a loaded question. Why did Darren do any of it? Why'd Darren do anything?!
Any other time Darren would have ignored it, uncaringly disregard the entire situation, unable to fathom what such an event would mean to him. Apathy…it had some perks, but Darren was still human, and emotions were volatile, unpredictable…and often near maddening. Especially for Darren when they leaked through that invisible glass plate he pushed everything relating to feeling behind. Emotions…feeling…expressing things…those were not allowed in the Nest; it wasn't something Darren was in tune with, and it was something Darren wondered if he'd ever regain after ten years of torment. The emotions, their intensity was so raw and almost all-consuming once a crack appeared in Darren's learned repression, then often bubbled over.
Darren shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wanting nothing more than to just disappear while silently turning over everything that had happened since he'd stepped foot in that precinct in his head. He'd been there before; it was familiar to him and filled with at least three acquainted people that Darren knew relatively well. Jim Gordon the Commissioner, Harvey Bullock the brash and often smug detective and Renee Montoya another of Gotham's better detectives not that Darren had worked particularly close to either of them as himself or Renegade. But it had felt hostile in that precinct and perhaps it was in part because Shepard had been there, poisoning everything for Darren yet again.
Logically Darren knew Jim was a good man, he knew that he and Batman had worked closely for years and that nothing would ever make him harm Darren. But internally, after everything that happened, Darren couldn't get himself to relax. In part the whole debacle was his fault…but how else was Darren supposed to react? Uncertainty radiated through Darren, was Dick disappointed…angry…? What did his cousin want from him? A familiar and insistent prickling sensation danced up his arms akin to gooseflesh when chilled or alarmed…only this was a different sort of dread that filled Darren's stomach and devoured the nerves under his skin. Again, Darren shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at Dick as he drove considering his response, trying to get a reading off Dick's mood. The feeling of the dagger against the black bands encasing Darren's forearms was unsettling…his skin prickled, morphing into something worse as if the blade had spikes along its edges. Unwanted memories and feelings swirled round and round Darren's mind like a hailstorm.
Darren and sharp objects had a tragic, dark history of self-harm. From his time in the Nest to merely trying to cope with his past since being rescued by the Bats that memory…that urge…haunted him. With the blade right along Darren's inner arm, it was almost unbearable. But Darren needed the blade as evidence, and he needed it for some leverage against Lydia. If not for protection, then to demand answers. It seemed possible Darren's old enemies were still operating, and Darren didn't like what that meant for his blackmail.
At every movement, Darren could feel the chill from the Talon dagger, even through the black bands. They were a gift from Tim to cope with the scars courtesy of himself years ago and again recently, in the aftermath of his resurrection as a Talon, by his great-grandfather as a means to taunt Darren with his past. Since finding his long-lost cousin, and finding a tenuous place among the Bats, Darren had taken steps to face that side of his life, to grow and push past the trauma and pain and terrible coping mechanisms. Therapy with Dinah Lance—Black Canary—had helped, the progress was real and positive but there were still resurgences of unrest and moments of deep, dark doubt. Even so, parts of Darren have been healing though the memories would never fade,
"Why did you see Shepard?" Dick finally asked, drawing a sharp intake from Darren. He didn't expect that question…in fact Darren thought his cousin would focus more on the boy. Darren wondered what exactly Jim had told Dick…and wondered if he should consider his response more carefully,
"Why did you go there…why put yourself through that?" Dick asked, almost fervently. Darren floundered for a moment, trying to put his thoughts in order. Trying to understand the point of this entire afternoon himself,
"I-I needed to see him there…helpless. At least once," Darren managed to get out, the waver in his voice very thin and faint but it was there,
"He's going away for good Darren," Dick said this with such conviction…as if he actually believed those words. Darren nearly scoffed with contempt but caught himself, swallowing thickly instead,
"No, he isn't," Darren blurted, unable to stop himself… a fiery fit of rage suddenly burning in his chest. Dick looked over at Darren sharply, glancing right back to the road, but a deep frown marred Dick's face at his cousin's sudden outburst,
"What makes you say that?" Dick asked, his tone at once concerned. Darren scowled out the windshield at nothing, slumping back in his seat and rubbing at his arm as if he could wipe the Talon dagger hidden under his sleeve away from existence,
"Experience." Dick looked inclined to demand more of an explanation, but Darren was done talking about the police station and turned his head away to look out the window. Darren could hear Dick's long-drawn-out sigh but refused to feel guilty for his lack of conversation. All Darren wanted to do was forget that anything ever happened and perhaps get a few minutes of sleep before they arrived home,
"You'll have to pack a bag," Dick stated, conversationally as if nothing odd had happened. Darren jerked, a shock of alarm drilling through him…panic eating away the cold indifference he'd fashioned for himself wondering what could have possibly gone so wrong. Fear soon followed at the prospect of getting kicked out, abandoned for just refusing to continue talking about what had happened. Rationally, Darren knew that Dick was more level-headed than this, but his baser fears ruled out,
"Why? What for?" Alarm lined his tone and Darren shrunk back against the door involuntarily as if he were going to jump and run off. The fear of being forced out eating away at every sense of calm he once had…even if he'd been living with Dick and Barbara for almost a year, even though Darren knew Dick considered him family,
"Uh…we're heading to Metropolis today? We're touring schools for Mikey remember?" Dick raised an eyebrow at Darren in question, even as he changed lanes—all the Bats knew Gotham's roads by heart, the perks of driving around them constantly on their bikes and in the Batmobile and though a fact it still did not ease Darren's driving anxiety.
Belatedly Darren remembered why he chose that time of day to go to the precinct. Mike, Dick and Barbara's soon-to-be adopted son, was a stray Darren found abandoned on the streets of Gotham. The boy was deaf and had lost his parents therefore forced into the broken system that was Gotham's social services. Despite the police's best efforts and of those working in child protective services some children do slip through the cracks ending up in broken terrible homes or on the streets. While an uncharacteristically kind-hearted thing for Darren to do, though something equally unsurprising as Darren could relate to Mike's situation, Darren also acted to manipulate Mike into the family due to guilt. It was indirectly Darren's fault that Mike's parents were dead, a Talon from Darren's past killed them in a misguided way to make Darren see the 'light.' While Darren couldn't bring Mike's parents back perhaps he could keep him from Gotham's streets which were a hunting ground for the Court of Owls.
Due to Mike's deafness, they were seeking schools better fitted for his benefit, something that allowed him to communicate freely and get better acquainted with the deaf community and culture. Though of course, they were open to Mike attending Gotham Academy along with Darren, a fact that Darren was still uncertain about for himself. Even as Dick and Barbara both reassured him, he'd adjust, Darren still had his doubts. Needless to say, Darren's sudden fear and anxiety died down quickly, quenched by embarrassment for voicing such an outcry at something so normal,
"You'll need a bag and most of your stuff is still at the manor, so we'll stop by there first," Dick continued on either oblivious or ignoring Darren's initial reaction,
"Uh…yeah…right," Darren muttered lamely, slumping once more in his seat, pressing the hidden dagger against his arm as harshly as he dared…just enough to get a slight thrum of anticipatory adrenaline from being so near the cold bite of a Serum filled dagger.
Upon arriving at Wayne Manor Darren hurried up past Alfred who opened the door long before they stepped out of the car—one of the many and often borrowed from the estate's elaborate garage—and was immediately greeted by the many pets residing in the manor. Titus and Ace were respectively Damian Wayne's animals—with the slight exception of Ace as it was Alfred who found and rescued the mutt, though the animals themselves had their favorites. Titus preferred the youngest of the Bats, Damian who doubled as Robin and worked the closest with Batman, while Ace took a liking to Darren as soon as he first set foot in the manor. Darren never considered himself much of an animal lover. The Powers had detested any rodent, canine or feline and would have sooner killed a creature than take it in. Darren himself didn't have a particular interest in being a pet owner but he liked Ace and it wasn't as if he took care of the dog, that was Damian's job. Not that the thirteen, almost fourteen, year-old minded tending to the animals.
Darren could typically rough house more aggressively without fear of being injured with Ace so anytime Darren was over at the manor Ace ran out to meet his little wrestling partner. Those carefree moments of play-fighting, growling coming from both dog and human were far lesser than before as Darren lived mostly with Dick, Barbara, and Mike presently as opposed to when the Court of Owls, as well as Ra's al Ghul, proved greater adversaries. The Court was now cowed by Darren's blackmail and Ra's forced into a magical coma courtesy of Livia. Ra's had wanted to use Darren's blood to recreate the Electrum formula to use for himself and as he pleased throughout the world. To prevent that the Bats, with Livia's help, used a Witch's Cruid—a dark and powerful object used to kill witches and when used on a human was deadly in a very different way if untreated—to ensure Talia became the Demon's Head so long as she kept Ra's out of the picture and ceased all investigation on the formula. Livia was confident their plan had worked, as evidenced by yet another usage of magic, but Darren had his doubts.
As per usual, Ace and Titus raced to greet familiar guests only this time Darren with slight regret only gave Ace a momentary pat on the head before hurrying up to his room. Ace didn't seem too broken-hearted as he belatedly jumped up on Dick, causing a disgruntled bark from Titus who had been getting attention from Darren's cousin, and a scolding from Alfred. The manor seemed eerily silent, though it was a Saturday and most of the occupants slept late though it was almost well past noon. Tim was nowhere in sight, nor was Damian and neither was Bruce which was a slight relief to Darren. He didn't want to hear what Bruce had to say on the matter of his visit to the police precinct or be caught by Tim with another Talon dagger. Tim was one of the few who knew of Darren's history of self-harm, the others in the know being his therapist, Dinah, and Livia his girlfriend. While Darren knew his secret was safe for the most part with both his girlfriend and doctor, Tim was testier about Darren's most closely held secret. Tim wanted the rest of the family to know, while Darren out of desperation and fear refused…and since it was his secret to tell Tim kept quiet, irritated and stressed, but quiet.
Darren didn't think he could take everyone else knowing. The few people who knew were either forced into silence because of confidentially rules, were far enough away from the family, and understood his deepest fears relating to this dark secret, or in Tim's case found out by accident. They would look at Darren differently, think of him differently…behave differently around him or even give up on him entirely. No number of reassurances could quail that perpetual terror of abandonment and while all three people have proven otherwise, the panic of his secret getting out still ate away at his thoughts picking out anything positive and vomiting out pure dread and apprehension.
Instead of lingering in the halls any longer, begging to be caught by Tim or Bruce in the hallway, Darren slipped silently into his room. Nothing much had changed in the months he'd used the bedroom. The walls were empty, with nothing much to personalize the room. Though the deep green duvet covering had been requested hesitantly by Darren for his birthday since it was his favorite color and he got cold far too often to have a regular quilted bedspread. Darren wasn't too sentimental about trinkets and photos. Anything of importance was hidden away under the floorboards he'd hollowed out the first time he'd claimed the room as his own, though a few images of himself and his mother when he was five were placed on the mantle of the small fireplace in the room and on the nightstand by his bed which was shoved far off in the corner of the room pressed tightly against the dark wooden bookshelves lining the wall. Darren didn't read much, he was dyslexic and therefore found it more difficult than enjoyable though Livia had introduced him to the concept of audiobooks which he found preferable to reading full-length novels, if not a little lackluster depending on the person narrating the books. The bed was tucked away and not in the center of the room due to the aftermath of being imprisoned in Blackout by the Court. A harrowing place and something Darren would rather not dwell on, though his bedroom had been warped upon his rescue to the point where it felt more like entrapment than comfort to reside within it, so he shoved the bed away from the center of the room to the corner to give off the illusion that there was a more expansive space than in reality. For the most part, it worked, and Darren didn't feel the need to rearrange the furniture once more.
Darren stood in the threshold of the doorway, stepping over the lip of the frame letting the door ease slowly closed. For a moment Darren just stood there, leaning back heavily against the wood before pulling the dagger free of his sleeve from where it had stayed the entirety of his trip home, Dick none the wiser. Swallowing thickly, aware of the buzzing silence that filled the near-empty room, Darren crossed the floor, kneeling to pull up the floorboards unearthing his hidden treasures…and weapons. Within a very specific hallowed hole lay a second Talon dagger, or rather the first. A flash of a memory danced before Darren's mind's eye, William sneering over at him as they danced back and forth weapons clashing in the chill of the September night air. That was the beginning of the end, Darren had killed William…his great-grandfather, a master Talon, his trainer, and his tormentor for ten long years. Not long after, Darren's blackmail had been put into effect practically dismantling the Court of Owls. A victory for Darren but at the price of a weapon that could harm Talons.
With a trembling hand, Darren picked up the older blade, leveling it alongside the one Darren took today, one dagger lengthwise on each palm. He held them there, the quivering unrelenting even as Darren tried to keep them steady, even as he strained to pull himself from the past. The tremor in his right hand remained a psychological irritation for Darren to deal with…it wasn't serious, it wasn't something medically concerning. It was just a remnant of something traumatic, of something dark and unbearable—the limb still weak, despite the strength gifted by the Electrum, from what Darren endured—but still, Darren tried to force the shaking from his hand. A moment later Darren let out a frustrated sigh of defeat, curling his fingers around the daggers' hilts, and after a moment's hesitation checked the secret compartments where the poisonous Serum lay hidden. The older blade Darren had was empty, whatever amount within the hilt used on William. The second dagger remained a mystery. Without comment or thought Darren placed both daggers back into the hollow hole, remaining where he was, kneeling, for a moment longer as if considering something when a knock on the door startled him,
"Dare, are you almost ready? We need to go pick up Babs and Mikey," Dick's voice called lightly through the closed door.
With a jolt Darren lunged for the nearest duffle bag, snagging some loose clothes hanging over the back of one of the lounging chairs set up in front of the fireplace, a few notebooks for homework, the sketchbook Dinah had given him as an attempt to create a positive coping mechanism for Darren, and after a moment's hesitation the stuffed monkey Dick had gotten Darren for his fifteenth birthday that he kept hidden away between the mattress and the bed frame, jamming everything in the bag before hurrying towards the door.
Darren trudged behind Dick, Barbara, and Mike as they were led through the main lobby of the Metropolis School for the Deaf. A very prestigious boarding school within the heart of the city. A very bright and eerily cheerful city, at least Metropolis seemed that way to Darren as they drove through it weaving in and out of the lanes filled with sparse but still time-draining traffic. It didn't hold the road rage that Gotham did much to Darren's relief through their travel to Metropolis wasn't as nerve-wracking as his drive to the manor had been. In the back of the car, Darren didn't necessarily have to see the road only the scenery. It was easier to just fall asleep or sketch or play games with Mikey in the silence of the car than it was to see and hear everything going on beyond their one-ton steel car that was surrounded by dozens of other one-ton steel metal traps.
The lady who greeted the four of them at the front doors turned to face them, stopping their trek to the main portion of the school. It was a Saturday, so no formal classes were being held and the halls remained somewhat empty. Of course, there wouldn't be much noise as the school was for the deaf the silence was still somewhat unsettling. Darren suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, an uncomfortable itching running at neck level, the sensation of eyes watching him. With a swift but sweeping glance back Darren found nothing concerning. With a sigh Darren forced himself to face forward and relax,
"I'll let the tour guide know you're here," the lady was saying—her wide rim glasses sliding down her slight nose—signing as she spoke so Mike would understand as well, though the kid's lipreading ability had improved significantly since living with the Bats, "Do you need an interpreter?"
"No, we'll be fine," Dick stated, shaking his head, and giving the lady an award-winning smile. The lady grinned back,
"Wonderful," she exclaimed, "Please make yourself comfortable!" with that she turned on her heel and hurried down another hall branching from the lobby.
Dick let out a groan as he settled down into one of the armchairs forming an arc around a small coffee table loaded with various magazines, pamphlets preaching the school's activities, sports and theater productions, and other educational adverts. Mike, who had been clinging nervously to Barbara's arm the whole walk over abandoned his post and plopped himself on Dick's lap—allowing Barbara to roam about the lobby looking at hand turkeys scattered about the windowed inner walls tapping away at her phone no doubt hacking into every mainframe of the school's system. Mike made himself comfortable as Dick wrapped an arm around him, pulling Mike closer with a kid-friendly magazine propped up for the both of them to look at. With Dick's tanned skin and dark black hair mirrored in Mike's near equally dark brown hair and olive-toned skin, they looked so like father and son that Darren had to turn away, glancing uninterestingly at the pictures of graduating classes plastered along the brick hall. Mike was a Grayson now or was close to becoming one as there were only a few more documents and a court appearance to complete the whole process. Darren would only ever be a Crowne…or even worse a Wilson if his father's legacy does dog Darren to the end of his eternity.
Darren gritted his teeth, turning away from the wall of smiling children, and instead looked out the nearest window, watching pedestrians hurry past and cars stream by. Their small cobbled-together family had visited many different schools, and none had met Mike's standards…though whatever those standards were no one else knew or could decipher. Mike would like one thing a school offered but hate that same exact thing that a different school provided. Perhaps the kid wasn't quite sure what he wanted, and Darren couldn't blame him, Mike was barely ten years old. Darren certainly didn't know what he wanted at that age especially when it came to schooling…except perhaps less reading and writing. As of now, Mike was homeschooled, but Darren knew the kid probably wanted to go to Gotham Academy with Darren and the rest of the Bats that attended. Though Mike only knew the others as part of his new family, not as the vigilantes they were at night. Everyone promised to keep that side of their lives on the down-low until he was older or started asking questions himself. Mike did know that Darren was a Talon and a former—a debatable distinction—assassin, but not that he was Renegade. Perhaps Darren's outed identity was enough to make Mike think the rest of their family lived a relatively normal life or maybe he just didn't think a double life was doable for the people he now lived with; Darren didn't know, nor could he tell what went on in that little kid's head.
Darren didn't want to be here, at this school, or on the tour. He didn't like the feeling this old school hall gave him or the feeling of eyes all around him…on him…peering at Darren through stone walls. Perhaps it was the overbearing feeling of stone that put Darren off the place. It was bright, not dark, and dreary like most of the fortresses, houses and compounds had been as Darren grew up and Darren could hear the sound of laughter down the halls as children played with one another outside or in their rooms.
The school wasn't an oppressive place, it was light and happy and filled with caring adults. These children weren't caged or trapped or forced to stay. Maybe it was the concept of a boarding school that rubbed at Darren the wrong way, perhaps it was the notion that they would be sending Mike away that Darren didn't like. Darren didn't want Mike to leave…he didn't want to send Mike far away, though Metropolis wasn't that far it didn't matter…any distance was too much and too far. Darren had gotten used to having Mike around, and maybe he did consider Mike to be his younger brother. The kid reminded Darren of Asher a little bit, another tragic reminder of Darren's past…but a lesser one. The memory and remembrance of his friend—dead a whole year now, by Darren's own hand—was no longer quite as painful nor something he would put upon Mike in any negative way. It was just there, a nudging sense of familiarity that made Darren both delighted and upset—but not every time, of course, Darren wouldn't want to feel that any given day he spent with Mike. There was no need for a school outside of Gotham, the threat the Court of Owls posed was gone. Mike was no longer a potential target.
Perhaps Darren just didn't want to tour the school. He didn't want to think of how much fun Mike might have here, how he might forget about the rest of them. How Mike might outgrow Darren in more ways than perhaps height. Maybe Darren also wanted to spend time with his sister, Rose Wilson also known as Ravager, instead of trekking around an elementary school. Darren hadn't seen her for months, not since she left Gotham after the Court targeted her to investigate the possibility of a Parliament of Owls rising in Metropolis. Though there had been no indication of anything of the sort budding, Darren gloomily assumed Rose had stayed in the city for more reasons than just the investigation Bruce sent her on.
Darren and Rose shared the same father, as did their half-brothers Grant and Joseph. Their father, Slade Wilson, was not the father any of them wanted. The mercenary, moonlighting as Deathstroke, had done terrible things to each of his children varying from pitting them against each other to using them as bargaining chips to fix past mistakes. Deathstroke was in part the reason Darren was a Talon and the direct reason why Ra's al Ghul got so close to replicating the Electrum formula. Using Darren as a source and a test subject for a time and chasing his brothers around the world to use against Darren to complete his scientific testing all the while Slade followed the Demon's Head's every beck and call. Deathstroke now resided in Belle Reve prison, freeing the siblings from his thumb and allowing them to grow closer. Though both Grant and Joseph steered clear from Gotham—as the Bat would prevent any mercenary work in his city—and Rose was still in Metropolis or at least Darren assumed she was still in the glaringly bright city. Despite Darren's looming hatred for his father, he couldn't help but want to know the man, his biological father, where he came from. Though the more he snuck away to visit Slade the less they saw eye to eye and the more that anger festered at what he did…and didn't…do for Darren, to Darren, with Darren.
With a tired sigh, Darren tossed all thoughts of Slade and his siblings aside, rubbing at his eyes with the palm of his hands grimacing at the bursts of light dancing in his vision from rubbing so insistently,
"You alright?" Barbara asked, a little way to Darren's left, a glint of worry in her gaze,
"I'm fine," Darren muttered an automatic response but also true. Darren couldn't afford to not be fine right now no matter how irked this school made him feel for whatever indistinguishable reasons. Barbara raised an eyebrow but didn't push the subject. Darren wondered what Dick told her of his visit to the precinct, and in turn what Gordon had told the both of them,
"Ah! You must be the Graysons!" A tour guide presented themselves not long after Barbara questioned Darren. Mike had gotten bored of the magazine and was tapping along at Dick's phone with giddy determination trying to beat a high score at some game. Everyone hopped to their feet—except for Darren who already stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed a deep scowl on his face—and Dick snagged his phone back from the ten-year-old gesturing for Mike to pay attention to the new lady from the school. Darren couldn't help but grimace at the title 'Graysons.' They were the Graysons—Dick, Barbara, and Mike…or they would be very soon after the adoption and wedding—but Darren would only ever be a Crowne or a Wilson. Both Slade and William made that very clear.
Shoving everything aside, forcing the paranoid feeling of eyes watching him to the deep dark corners of his mind, Darren dragged himself from the wall and plodded after the trio trailing happily after the tour guide. Mike clung to Barbara's arm once more and Dick chatted pleasantly with the tour guide in American Sign Language. Asking question after question…adding to the information both he and Barbara had thoroughly researched and hacked on the school. Darren let himself fall slowly behind, the feeling of unease already there from before settling over him…perhaps it was warranted, perhaps it was just a residual feeling from before because of his stupid decision to see Shepard one last time, or maybe his mood was just taking a plunge as it often did with hardly any warning. Either way, Darren just felt his senses going haywire and uncertainty surging through him in waves.
Though as Darren pushed himself forward, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched, the hair-raising sensation of danger surrounded him nearly, metaphorically, knocking him off his feet. With a hitched breath Darren glanced back at the open, quiet, and relatively peaceful main lobby area of the school before looking over at the small tour assembly…the hallways seemingly stretching impossibly long appearing to twist and shift, descending like a spiral staircase before him,
"Dick," Darren called out, blinking away the sudden imagery, drawing his cousin's attention. Dick must have seen the muted panic on Darren's face because his genuinely amiable expression morphed into one of quiet concern as he broke away from the group and crossed over to Darren in an instant, the hallway back to its normal dimensions,
"What is it?" Dick asked, his voice mercifully soft, "Are you okay?"
"I...I'm okay. But, I…uh…I was wondering if I could stay, in the main waiting area until the end of the tour?" Darren hoped his tone didn't sound too panicked and desperate. His need for solitude and time to just sort through the jumble of everything he'd faced that day outweighed whatever dignity Darren felt he needed to maintain. It had all been a lot in the wake of the trial, his death day…it was settling much too heavily on his shoulders at the moment to carry through with something so mundane,
"Are you sure?" Dick questioned, raising an eyebrow,
"Yes…I'll be fine there," Darren replied hurriedly, marching on determined to get out of whatever explanation Dick wanted for his sudden change of heart, "It's not like I'll be going to this school."
Dick looked doubtful but didn't push Darren for a reason why just nodded moving to turn back to the others before stopping. A glint of sudden unabashed worry in his eye,
"Be there when we return okay?" Dick requested. Darren couldn't help but grimace, remembering all the times he'd disappeared on the Bats, on his family. It wasn't his fault every time but some of those moments were him running from whatever he was dealing with at the time. Even when doing so was dangerous for him with the Court of Owls still lurking about. Darren didn't say anything, he didn't even feel indignant about that statement, only nodded.
With that Darren and the tour went on their separate ways.
A/N: As promised, chapter two! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I honestly had a little fun writing this chapter. Mikey has returned to the story! While he will be in this story a bit, he won't exactly take center stage as with most of the other named side characters.
I know it's a lot of recap fitted within what is happening now along with little moments of background/context of what's been happening over the past three months. But I hope I'm conveying it all in a way that's a) setting things in motion while also putting in little hints of foreshadowing and b) shaping the recap and such around little bits of action that push the story along.
I would love to hear what you guys think, not only about this chapter and this story so far but also of my plans for updating this story. Your opinions matter to me and hearing how I am doing really helps me! So in short: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!
