A/N: Just a heads up, potential TW towards the end of this chapter.
Chapter: 5
Darren toed the shredded remains of a robot training dummy with a grimace, trying to determine whether the piece was a shoulder or a shin. The simulation training room was a wreck, dented walls, sparking wires, destroyed semi-automatic weapons—filled with blanks—lay scattered about, the floor had been ripped up by scrabbling robots, even the observation window had been cracked at some point. There were some spots on the floor dotted with blood from when Darren had been injured in the process of rampaging out his distress and anger, the injury healing before the wound was fully realized. The destruction wrought by Darren's blinded rage was but a speck of time, a hazy spell of anger and pain and every negative emotion he couldn't release. And now…Darren stood in the wake of his outburst trying to pick up the pieces. Of the nine training robots the Batcave had, only three remained and even they were partially damaged. The rest lay in pieces, thoroughly destroyed…with Darren wondering how he would ever fix them all. At least it hadn't been people, at least it hadn't been the Bats, at least it hadn't been Darren,
"It's not as bad as it looks," a voice stated from the propped open doorway. Darren glanced over to Tim, who stood leaning against the metal frame his arms crossed, before swiftly focusing on the heaps of scrap metal that littered the floor,
"I'll fix it," he murmured, crouching down and scooping up what appeared to be a metal shoulder, "I'll fix…I can try…I-I don't know how to fix this," Darren let the metal clang back to the ground, tilting his head back with slight dismay. Tim frowned at that, pushing off the wall and walking over to where Darren crouched,
"Darren…you don't need to worry. We aren't expecting you to fix all of this," Tim reached out to place a hand on Darren's shoulder, a rather cautionary movement as Darren tended to react poorly to such gestures, and stopped just short of touching his shoulder as Darren jerked away from the attempt at comfort rising swiftly with a wary expression on his face,
"No, this was my fault and I'll face the consequences of my actions," Darren practically hissed, as if desperate to prove he meant no harm in his actions, that this extreme destruction was a one-time thing, an attempt to show control and consideration of his impulsive actions,
"What consequences?" Tim demanded, sounding genuinely confused, "You were upset…you needed an outlet and you are stronger than we are, these robots didn't stand a chance," it sounded as if Tim were trying to joke, to lighten the mood but that wasn't what Darren wanted, perhaps not even what he needed,
"I could have hurt someone!" Darren exploded, though his tone fell flat and he just sounded monotoned and defeated, "I don't even remember half of what I did to these robots…if I hadn't left, if any of you had tried to stop me…I was so far gone I don't even want to think of what could have happened."
Darren would like to think that he was beyond mindless, senseless killing. He'd like to think that his time with the Bats had softened those rough edges, those sensitive, terrifying, mind-numbing edges. But that dark voice in the back of Darren's mind that whispered more than once 'just end them' as he raced after a culprit, an escapee from Arkham, a henchman of some Gotham crazy or the crazies themselves hadn't faded with time. Instead, it ebbed and flowed like Darren's turbulent moods, often becoming so insistent that Darren would wonder if it was even worth it to hold back…restraint was so hard, so tiring, and such a conscientious thing…why did it matter? Why did Darren have to tear himself apart just to appeal to Bruce, the Bats, and their ways?
The answer was an easy one, as he saw Tim's expression shift from one of laid-back amusement—a friend trying to ease the mood—to something akin to concern—a friend realizing the underlying stress someone they cared about was under. The Bats were Darren's family, they mattered to Darren and therefore their expectations mattered…their perception of Darren mattered. Though that was not the only source of Darren's resolve, the fear of losing them was also a powerful influence. Restraint was hard, it was often a battle to maintain his grip on that killer instinct, but he'd do it for them, he'd do it for himself. Darren would pick up those pieces—fragments of himself—and put them back together over and over again. Even if it seemed impossible, even if Darren continued to lose sight of who he was becoming, even if he destroyed himself in the process.
Darren was still a killer; Darren was still an assassin and he feared that was all he'd ever be. But the Bats…they would never give up on him. So, Darren could never lose himself entirely…except, that was exactly what happened. Darren had lost control, he lost control so badly he didn't even realize half of what had happened. The news of Shepard's death had been soul-crushing, but Darren should have managed it, should have pushed everything deep deep down…instead Darren had cracked, no, he shattered. Darren worried that what happened in the aftermath of Shepard's death would happen again, that his protective shell was wavering, that his attempts at maintaining his little boxes of hidden emotions, thoughts, memories…would dwindle until there was nothing left just the pure unyielding chaos that was his fractured mind. He knew he was broken, on a fundamental level Darren knew that deep down he was broken…that there was no undoing what the Court had done to him, what Shepard and Lydia had done to him. Darren could try and reshape—moreover manage—the trauma, the past, but there was no rewiring, no reconfiguring, no magic that could make him whole again.
Perhaps that was tragic, perhaps it was horrible to know there was a whole side of himself—that Darren didn't know or couldn't reach—he could have fully, truly, become if his past had taken an entirely different route. But Darren couldn't imagine any other life, any other mind, than the one he'd been given—the one shaped by the Owls and Powers. That was Darren, that was all him, all he's ever known. But what if the protections Darren had put in place continued to fail? Continued to falter and deteriorate now that he no longer needed to maintain such measures…what if they could never be built up as they used to…what if they collapsed all at once. Darren didn't think he could take that monumental blow up, he didn't think he could live through that—with that—after that. Darren did not want to die, but he didn't want to live every second of his life in constant withering anguish because of the past, because of things he couldn't control, because of the life he had to endure.
So, Darren fought for that control, over himself and his mind, day by day as the world threw conflict in his way…disaster…moments of doubt, moments of pain and sorrow, and just a perpetual bombardment of everything he'd been trying to survive past, present, and future. And again, and again he lost that control and with it, he lost himself and his sense of reality. Pain was real…a concept, a thought, a mantra that drummed through Darren's head since he'd been young and alone and the world was crumbling around him, too young to need something like that to pull him back to himself when nothing else would. Darren used that to maintain control, even if it was dangerous. But he lost that carefully contrived control again, because of Shepard…because of the past they shared and their connection to the Court, something that would forever have its claws in him…and Darren could do nothing but let everything out right then and there in the best way he could,
"No one blames you for your reaction," Tim's voice pulled Darren from his inner turmoil, "You didn't hurt anybody. In fact, I think you took some damage as well as the robots…nothing you couldn't heal from of course," Tim tapped at a spatter of blood on the floor with the toe of his shoe, a frown on his face. Darren grimaced, looking away from his friend and the droplets of blood,
"I blame me," Darren stated, drawing in a deep breath, closing his eyes as if trying to center himself. Tim let out a sigh as if he wanted to say more but knew Darren wouldn't agree…or perhaps he understand Darren's perspective on what happened. To Darren…his explosive reaction was something to be punished for, it was a lack of control. Internally Darren knew there were more factors than just Shepard playing into his frayed nerves and mind. Powers's death had been a breaking point, built up by Darren's death day, the court trial, seeing Shepard at the precinct, and finally Charles Chamberlain's threats,
"None of this was your fault, Darren, no one wanted this to happen…none of us knew this would happen," Tim finally said after a long silent pause bled between the two of them,
"I did," it slipped out before Darren could stop himself and he clamped his teeth together as he turned on his heels aiming to abandon the observation room,
"Darren…wait…what do you mean?" Tim questioned, following Darren out into the main area of the Cave as Darren hurried to the computer searching for something to do, any excuse to ignore Tim. Darren ignored the feeling of Tim's stare, the hair-raising feeling of eyes on him, tiptoeing up and down his spine. The feeling reminded him of Charles…the thought soured Darren's mood further. He ripped Charles from his mind and turned his focus on the computer, though it appeared Tim was not going to back down so easily,
"Dare…talk to me," Tim started, still standing behind Darren as he desperately and somewhat mournfully stared at the keys unable to fully understand the operation of such a complex device as the Batcomputer. With a stifled groan, Darren turned to face Tim,
"I…I knew he wouldn't last long. Whether in prison or by…well…I guess other means. He was a liability…but, I-I thought it would take longer,"
"You wanted him to suffer," Tim monotoned, tilting his head to the side as if considering Darren's statement,
"I did," Darren agreed, not cowed by such an accusation,
"That's…understandable," Tim replied, "So the Court really offed one of their own?"
"You had to think that was the case…it was the most obvious answer," Darren stated rather snidely…annoyed more at the Court than by Tim's question,
"We all had the thought in our minds. We just…weren't sure,"
"Though I guess it's a good thing the Court killed him," Darren said airily, turning back to the computers, this time with an actual goal in mind. He needed information on a certain Charles Chamberlain no matter how much the man's sudden presence plagued Darren...and no matter how much he wished he could just push the thought of Charles from his mind. He needed more on the older man before Darren even considered him a threat, "If he talked our blackmail would be obsolete…we'd be back to square one,"
"I…uh…guess that's one way of looking at it," Tim sighed, clearly slightly miffed at there being a benefit from Shepard Powers at all or perhaps just alarmed by the aloofness after such a reaction from Darren.
Darren silently agreed, it was problematic to give Shepard any consideration, but his death did serve a purpose and gave Darren's demands more ground. Though the new Talon dagger took away any positivity from the blackmail situation, if the Owls were sneaking around Darren's back, he'd have to tighten the reins…if only Darren knew how to do that. The trouble with the robots, the mess, and the past still circled heavily in Darren's mind but often worked in shifts with the other issues that surrounded his everyday survival. The pressing matter of the Court's actions while under Darren's blackmail demands were a sliver more bearable than the aftermath and chaos from his death day to the death of Powers…so Darren turned his attention to that, something easier and less complex to work on, with, or for, as he tried to access the Batcomputer's seemingly limitless stores of knowledge,
"Uh…Dare?" Tim's voice sounded again…only this time slightly uncertain causing Darren to slow in his movements to pay attention to what was being said and listen for tells indicating anger, disappointment, fear, or lies, "There's uh something I want to talk to you about," Darren merely shrugged his consent for Tim to continue…like he actually had a choice in the matter,
"I know you're skipping your special-ed classes," Darren stilled, not expecting that to be the case. A grimace tore across Darren's face at the thought of Al,
"Huh," Darren murmured, unable to keep quiet, "So Al ratted me out," Darren turns to face Tim, crossing his arms tightly across his chest as he leaned back against the desktop of the Batcomputer. Tim merely raised an incredulous eyebrow, his bright blue eyes crinkling with slight bafflement,
"Al could have ratted to the headmaster," Darren rolled his eyes, turning back to the monumental amount of computer keys,
"In case you can't tell, detention is a little low on my totem pole of problems,"
"Or he could have told Dick,"
"Fuck off," Darren monotoned, immediately guarded and irked…he knew how Dick would feel about Darren skipping anything; especially since he thought Darren was adjusting so well to mainstream schooling,
"You don't skip any other classes, I checked. Perfect attendance. Why only Al's periods?" Concern bit the edge of Tim's voice and Darren grimaced again. Perfect attendance wasn't exactly true…all it entailed was staying for roll call and then leaving to 'use the bathroom' for twenty or thirty minutes. But Darren didn't rain on Tim's parade…especially if it meant he wouldn't tell Dick.
The issue didn't lie with Al, it wasn't that Al was awful or a bad person. It wasn't like there was some secret dark side that only Darren ever picked up on, in fact, it was quite the opposite. Al was an incredibly good person…reading people wasn't that hard for Darren especially when the other wasn't trained like he was, or the Bats were, and Al read easily with a good vibe. Darren just…couldn't feel comfortable with that one-on-one style of tutoring. It felt wrong…entrapping…reminiscent of his privates with William…it was a very different kind of unbearable than what Darren was used to,
"It's…not what you may think. Al's…nice, he's great I guess,"
"Then what's the problem," Darren slowed in his typing and bowed his head, gritting his teeth, his blond hair flopped lightly over his eyes, suddenly uncertain at the prospect of trying to express himself,
"I…I just…I can't be alone with…a stranger like that. I…I can't trust that…and-and I know there are other people there from time to time, but I don't know them either and—I just, I just can't get over that…notion,"
"I could…sit with you," Tim suggested carefully, and Darren jerked a glance back at his friend, surprised by the offer. He figured school was the one place where he'd be on his own in facing any problems scrounged up by the past; that any issues caused by his lack of a formative childhood, schooling system, and overall interpersonal relationships were for him to try and deal with. Darren couldn't fathom anyone helping him just function in society…let alone in a school's society…it felt almost childish to need help with that,
"But—," Darren started, facing his friend fully, ready to plead away Tim's attempt at helping,
"I'm sure Al would be happy to write a note excusing me for being late in the morning, and Mrs. Carney may be a bit of an asshole, but she knows I can basically teach her lessons for her…I can sit with you until you feel comfortable going alone. I'll sit a table away, you won't even know I'm there," Tim raised his eyebrows, an expectant look on his face as Darren wavered between agreeing and trying again to dissuade Tim from his plan but ultimately, couldn't find it in himself to refuse,
"Yeah…okay…I guess…I'd like that," Tim's grin annoyed Darren, so he turned away once more, determined to work the computer,
"So…uh…what are you trying to do there?" Tim finally asked, nonchalantly but also completely chalantly. He practically built and rebuilt the whole of the Cave's computer systems. The only issue was Darren didn't want to alarm anyone with the sudden introduction to Charles Chamberlain…at least not until he had more information and more importantly the truth on who the man was.
Darren let out a hiss of frustration, raising his fist as if to smash the piece of tech to bits but stopped himself at the last second at Tim's sharp intake of air, instead carefully resting the closed fist against the keyboards with a mournful expression on his face. At last giving in to the need for assistance. Tim didn't need all the details, just the name,
"I'm trying to find someone," was all he said, hoping Tim would leave his sleuthing for the bad guys,
"Who and why?" Tim questioned, moving to stand next to him, his fingers hovering over the keyboards,
"Charles Chamberlain," Darren answered, looking over at Tim expectantly only to frown when Tim didn't try to start searching,
"Why?" Tim asked again, with a slight edge in his tone. Darren was quiet for a moment, considering how to respond,
"I need to know if he has any connections to the Court…or if his identity is false,"
"How did you come across the name?" Tim wondered out loud as he absentmindedly started typing. Darren watched the screen flicker to life rows and rows of code spanning across the wide black screens as if searching for another lie to feed his friend. The truth would be out, whether good or bad, no matter what…for now it was best to keep the Bats out of it. Though perhaps the true reason he kept quiet was that a small part of Darren feared Dick would want to welcome the man who threatened all Darren held dear with open arms at even the slightest prospect of kinship…and that he'd be forgotten all over again because of that possibility,
"My mother's letters," the lie came out quick and strong, with barely any pause. Only then did Tim's gaze leave the keys, surprise written across his features,
"I'll do a more thorough search when I come in from patrol," Tim stated, returning his gaze downwards, "Uh…speaking of patrol, any plans for tonight?" Darren grimaced with annoyance at that,
"Not patrolling that's for sure…I'm benched," Tim rolled his eyes, shaking his head,
"You know what I mean,"
"I guess I'll probably go see Livy," Darren answered as nonchalantly as possible. Still Tim grinned with a knowing air, though the smirk quickly vanished an almost somber expression taking its place,
"I'm glad you won't be alone tonight," was all Tim said,
"I'm fine Tim, promise," Darren muttered,
"Uh-huh," Tim hummed, clucking his tongue. Darren could tell Tim didn't believe him…and he couldn't blame Tim, it wasn't a very convincing lie—the truth was a mere few feet away in the form of a destroyed room—but it was better than the alternative, "I'll let you know when I get anything significant."
That was all that was said on the matter. They both knew what was meant and what—to an extent—wasn't said.
"A, as in A is for apples," Livia murmured, closing her eyes as gooseflesh erupted over her skin at Darren's gentle finger tracing random letters across her back. The sensation a pleasant step toward normalcy…toward peace of mind for the both of them, for everyone. Livia could almost forget about the looming possibility that she wasn't quite in control of her own body, and Darren could escape the darkened corner he had turned in the wake of Shepard's death,
"B, as in B is for Batman," Livia mused softly, smiling at Darren's soft chuckle. She didn't know how far away he was from her, but his hand so featherlight against her bare skin was a gentle connection for both Livia and Darren to rely on. It was something that completed them, brought them close when they could not break beyond whatever was pulling them down and away from one another.
At first, Livia had been surprised to see Darren. But the question of his intentions never made it to her lips as Darren's arms were suddenly around her, pulling her close and into a passionate, if a bit desperate, kiss. Livia forgot about her surprise, she forgot about Darren's weekend as well as her own as she melted, falling into the kiss as they pawed at one another's clothes—pulling and tugging, kissing, and feeling with more and more bare skin braced against the cool brisk air of Livia's bedroom,
"C, as in C is for Cat," Livia whispered, watching as Plagg her black cat familiar with emerald, green eyes pranced across the floor disappearing into the shadows as if he'd never been there to start…merging with the darkness and traveling somewhere Livia could not follow,
"I still think he hates me," Darren stated from behind, his voice sounded closer, and Livia couldn't hide her own smirk of content,
"Perhaps it's because you pull on his tail,"
"Perhaps," Darren agreed thrumming a set of fingers lightly against the nape of Livia's neck…forcing a giggle out of her.
All Livia had wondered since Stephanie told her about Shepard had been what Darren was feeling, thinking, doing…enduring in such a soul-crushing aftermath. There was no way to know, no real way to ask as it was too soon, and Darren would not want to focus on that. Livia knew Darren and pushing him too soon would force him to shut down and push people away; Livia didn't want that; she didn't want to hurt him all over again. So, for once, Livia was grateful for her magic, more specifically her psychometry which allowed her to see the past.
So, as Darren and Livia frantically pawed at their coats, shirts, pants trading kisses and caresses Livia witnessed a slideshow of events pulled from the very fabric of Darren's clothes something that was encased by his very essence…something she could implicitly use her magic on to draw out the details she was not privy to. Livia could see Darren's distress through snapshots as she pulled his shirt over his head; she felt the deep-rooted anguish that he wrestled with, the anger that overwhelmed him, the swill of other emotions he couldn't face…that he felt were wrong even as he considered them justified. Livia knew Darren wanted Shepard dead, she knew Darren wanted to be the one but couldn't follow through because of fear, the past and because of the Bats. His family's opinions meant so much to Darren and he couldn't imagine destroying what he considered the tentative relationships he had with them all,
"D is for Deed," Livia said considering, tilting her head, resisting her urge to let her head fall back, her eyes closed as she reenacted the visions of the near past in her mind's eye.
There was more that Livia could see, more she could tap into as Darren's kisses trailed along her collarbone, up to her jaw finding her lips. Livia could see the very far but just as near past, moments too similar to where they were now…intimate…with another person, someone else who haunted Darren's mind. As Livia wrapped her arms around Darren, she knew, she understood what this was…a distraction. Maybe others would be offended, maybe others wouldn't understand, perhaps they would fall to insecurities about themselves and their relationship…but Livia knew Darren. Livia knew the truth rooted in their relationship, the trust that despite all else no matter what happened, they were loved, they were whole when with one another. They were two sides of the same coin. They would walk together, they would laugh together, they would love together despite the odds…despite what may seem too deep and dark, despite what might stain their souls and minds…they would stand close to that fire and know what it was like to burn for one another.
But even with Livia's content in losing herself to the moment with Darren, to give him what he needed or thought he needed…Darren stiffened, pulling away wincing as if in pain, sitting down heavily against the foot of Livia's bed, head bowed his golden hair like silver in the wispy moonlight,
"I'm sorry…I-I…I just can't…I can't do this. It's not right…it's too like—," Darren's voice sounded strained as he abruptly cut himself off, still heated with the passion that held them captive mere moments before. Livia let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, kneeling next to Darren on the bed, cupping his cheek and turning his gaze to hold her own,
"I know…I know. It's okay Darren. I understand. My love is not fragile, and it is not only built on sex." The heat of the moment was gone, but that didn't matter. What mattered was Darren, what he needed and how Livia could help him through whatever he was dealing with. They ended up talking, whispering in the dimmed light of the room as Darren pulled his sweatpants on and lay down amongst the pillows until their conversation lulled and Darren started lightly tracing random designed on the back of her hand, up her arm to her shoulder and it morphed into a guessing game of letters for words.
And there they remained, playing their newfound little game,
"E is for Elephant,"
"Dick would approve," Darren chuckled, and Livia let out a snort, rolling her eyes.
Intimacy as a whole with Darren was very hit or miss…overall difficult. Livia didn't mind, that was not all their relationship was or could be. They were more than just physically connected…they were more than just a couple; they were just more to one another wholly. Livia knew Darren struggled with physical intimacy, and the reason had a name…Sophie. Yet another person who left their stain on Darren's mind, psyche, and maybe even his soul. The fact that Darren pushed through all that and took a chance with Livia showed he was healing…but more in a mental capacity than a physical one.
When Livia and Darren were together, when they were having sex, it was clearly only about her at the moment, only about Livia. Darren's only focus was on pleasing Livia while he himself was always second. Perhaps any girl would prefer that but there was something darker to the mentality of such a thing that Livia couldn't help but consider. Perhaps this desire to please came from his complicated and toxic relationship—if it could really be considered a relationship—with Sophie. Though the circumstance of their dalliance was one of manipulation and malicious endeavors only added to the torment and trauma of Darren's past. Sophie's remnant scars tethered firmly to the misery of the Court of Owls which still plagued Darren. Sophie's thrall running parallel to that of the Court's control over Darren's life...his mind...his body and soul. And it bled through to their reality, to their relationship. Livia didn't know how to broach the subject, how to make Darren see that everything should be reciprocal, that Darren's comfort meant just as much as hers…that what Darren felt mattered…that he mattered,
"I…? I is for I think you skipped a few letters?" Livia questioned, frowning at the feeling of Darren drawing on her back a new letter,
"L….,"
"O…,"
"V…," A smile slowly spread across Livia's face,
"E…I love you too Darren," Livia murmured breathlessly as the feeling of Darren's hand against her back was replaced by his lips as he tracked a trail of kisses up her spine, across the back of her shoulder, to the crook of her neck and as he placed them gently, sweetly along her jaw Livia turned her head to peck Darren on the lips, cupping his cheek lightly with her hand,
"You are sure in a mood," she mused, her breathing hitching further as Darren wrapped his arms around her waist pulling Livia closer to him…she could feel his slow heartbeat through her back, a calming thrum against her skin.
Darren pulled away a bit, reaching to briefly touch the stud in Livia's ear, mild curiosity in his gaze,
"This is new,"
"You have tattoos, I think I'm entitled to some jewelry as well…we match now at least," Livia said elusively, Darren raised an eyebrow but merely grinned though it wavered away as soon as it was there. Still, he had the heart to speak in support of the stud,
"I like it,"
"You'd better because it's here to stay," Livia said sweetly. Darren rolled his eyes before almost mindlessly reaching a hand up once again to twirl a ringlet of Livia's hair around his finger giving the twisted strand three light tugs. I. Love. You. Livia's smile morphed into a near-silent chuckle,
"I love you too Darren." It became clear early on in their relationship…or at least in their relationship since saying 'I love you' for the first time…that Darren was not fond of saying the words, as if he were not used to the phrase or was concerned with giving the word away too freely. To Darren, words were important…they were a promise…they were binding. While Livia was fond of saying the phrase over and over, something that both pleased Darren and touched a bit too closely to his discomfort and uncertainty with affection. So, they found a common ground, a way to provide such an endearing phrase without so many words…a way to make it more adaptable to Darren's ever-changing moods and Livia's need for outright conviction.
Darren released the lock of hair and tapped three little taps on Livia's knee, drumming them repeatedly with his three middle fingers; resting his chin on her shoulder pressing his ear against the crook of her neck as if listening to her pulse, finding comfort in it as Livia did with his heartbeat. With a sigh, Livia reached for Darren's hand as it rested against her knee, entwining her fingers with his,
"Are you okay?" Livia finally asked,
"I'll get over it," was all Darren said, the vibrations of his voice resonating against Livia's shoulder,
"You can talk to me," Livia murmured, bringing their joint hands to her lips, pressing three light kisses against Darren's knuckles. Darren shuddered—whether from pleasure or something else entirely it was unclear—but he did not pull away,
"I know," a short response, Livia knew Darren would speak if or when he wanted to…but she still worried. With deft maneuvering, Livia slyly snuck a glance at Darren's wrists…eyeing the scarred slashes with mild apprehension, just a quick check…a need to know that Darren wasn't dealing with everything that happened the past few weeks in more damaging ways than just destroying a few robots…before letting their hands fall back to her lap still lightly clasped,
"I'm here for you," Livia said at last, "Whenever you need me." Darren hummed his response, again the vibrations of his voice reverberating against her shoulder as he shifted slightly, his weight-bearing more heavily against Livia,
"I'm tired," was all he whispered. Livia shifted, twisting out of his embrace to face Darren, brushing some hair out his of his eyes with her free hand,
"Then let's try to sleep."
A darker night and a darker mood for sure, but in the face of everything both Livia and Darren had endured—separately and together—they would overcome that darkness…they would rise above it and burn brightly together, side by side.
Livia startled awake mere moments, or hours since she and Darren curled up side by side in her bed eager for sleep to erase away the day's darkness. A heaviness settled over her body, over her bones, something she felt even in sleep…something she became aware of enough to jerk herself out of that heavy fog…like a kind of sleep paralysis. A working theory Livia had centered on Klarion and her stints walking around at night…unaware, or perhaps aware in a completely different way at a completely different level. Livia had experienced these sleepwalking episodes before, when Klarion tried to convince everyone around Livia she was going insane, but these moments were different. They felt different when Livia came out of them. The earlier instances of lost hours were just Klarion messing with Livia's perception as well as her friends' and family's perception of time and of Livia's own actions. These episodes were no mere instances of sleepwalking and though Klarion was gone as well as the curse it seemed a part of him held on…a part of him remained. It was a worrisome concept, the idea that Klarion was still somewhere warped throughout the essence that was now meddled with Livia's own magical essence…but if Livia could prevent whatever power he still had over her, the more time she had to figure out exactly what his endgame was…or will be.
Reaching out over the space between herself and where Darren lay, Livia patted the mattress, searching for an arm or a leg or a chest to pull up close to only to feel empty mattress beside her. With a frown, Livia rolled over finding the space Darren once occupied empty. A mild sense of worry webbed over the concern Livia had for herself as she sat up, the sheets rustling as she glanced around the dark room. First looking towards the window to see if Darren made an escape while Livia had been asleep. Darren would occasionally do this as he would begin patrol rather late in the evening though Livia knew he was benched since his blowup about Shepard's death. It would be odd for Darren to leave if he didn't have to. A pit started to form in Livia's stomach, cold and tense, as if she could sense the underlying dread building up at the unknown actions of Darren while under distress as it seemed that was what was driving his actions as of late…something he couldn't quite explain but felt, nonetheless.
Livia looked over toward the bathroom adjoining Livia's room knowing that Darren on occasion would rinse off before coming back to bed after their more intimate moments. Livia understood his slight, and continuous, discomfort in the aftermath of sex…he needed a moment to reset, to wash away the past that flourished at the back of his mind despite feeling safe with Livia. It didn't happen often, especially not since the Court of Owls had been contained, but the urge would resurge on a particularly rough night. Livia didn't doubt that need would resurge despite nothing happening between them that evening as Sophie was a poisonous viper in Darren's mind as was every other vile torment from his past in the wake of the parading trauma he'd faced over the last few weeks.
But something was off…something was different…wrong even. Livia could see the light from the bathroom, bright and even irritating in the contrasting darkness of her bedroom, but there was no sound of running water from the shower…only silence. Carefully and quietly, Livia pushed away the sheets and padded over to the bathroom door uncertain of how to proceed. She was worried, concerned even, that was certain…but Darren valued his privacy, his agency over anything else. Even so, Livia gripped the doorknob, placing her ear to the door as if she could hear something within…something she might have missed that would have corrected her suspicions. Gritting her teeth Livia tapped on the door as lightly and quickly as she could, twisted the doorknob
"Dare…I'm coming in," she cautioned as she pushed the door open, barely waiting for a response. Perhaps rude, perhaps wrong…but the sight that confronted her was enough to stop her in her tracks.
Darren was looking at her with mild surprise and major panic, as if he'd done something wrong but it merely appeared that he was standing over the sink one hand braced on the countertop the other hovering over the quietly running faucet as if he were considering something. Livia gaped, about to mutter apologies when she saw the blood. It was dark and crusted, already dried on a healed over wound on the bottom corner of his palm. Small but visible enough that even Livia could see it. A disjointed crescent-like shape…almost appearing like teeth marks; another similar imprint encircled Darren's wrist on the same arm.
Livia's brief relief turned to dread as she floundered for a moment, staring at the injuries, before surging forward even as Darren moved to turn away shame flickering across his features before a cold detached and demeaned expression erased all other emotions,
"What happened? Are you okay?" Livia questioned, taking hold of the hand stained with blood, using her other hand to turn off the faucet. Carefully she inspected the wounds, confirming what she already feared…teeth marks. In all honesty, Livia wasn't sure what to say or what to do, she could only stare at the injuries that Darren had inflicted upon himself…uncomfortable uncertainty roiling in her stomach.
Darren made to pull his arm away, but Livia held fast clutching hold of Darren's hand as if it were a lifeline. A dark expression of frustration and indignation crossed Darren's face, flickering vulnerably in tandem with fear,
"It's fine Livia…I'm fine," he insisted, "It means nothing…it's nothing!" Livia threw Darren an astonished look, arching her eyebrow disbelievingly. Perhaps Darren didn't understand the gravity of his actions…nor the slippery slope he was wavering on,
"It's healed," Darren continued upon seeing Livia's expression, "I can't even feel it…it means nothing."
"Then why do it?" Livia questioned, her tone rather harsh and she tried in vain to pull herself to a more reasonable response. Darren was skittish, caught in a vulnerable moment that not many would understand but Livia knew more than most would. She needed to handle this better and with more care, "Help me understand,"
"I-I…I don't know," Darren finally bit out, his expression wavering warily as if pained, tugging on the hand that Livia held so firmly. She would not give up, running her thumb lightly over the markings on Darren's palm, biting her lip considering what more to say, "I…don't know…I…I just couldn't—,"
Couldn't feel, felt too much, felt the past too deeply…still Darren cut himself off, looking upwards as if trying to find his voice…find the words that could make sense of his actions,
"It means nothing…it didn't hurt, I couldn't feel it," Darren seemed to be trying to convince himself of that fact and Livia gave his hand a slight tug forcing Darren to look over at her with slight surprise…she needed his attention,
"The intention was to hurt yourself," Livia stated flatly. Darren grimaced, aversion flickering across his features as he tried to push all that he may be feeling away…despising the fact that Livia was forcing him to confront the overtly dark truth surrounding his actions. But Livia went on, undeterred by his consternation, "I am here for you...talk to me, talk to someone else…try to make sense of it all with me or someone else but don't return to this…you've been so strong and have tried so hard to put self-harm behind you. Don't give up now,"
"It's not…that's not it…I-I need time," Darren whispered, almost pained, "I just need time,"
"I know…I know," Livia repeated, "Take that time…but not like this."
Livia didn't feel like she helped fit Darren's shattered pieces back together…she felt as if she'd only dusted them back into a general pile. This took her by surprise and while she was willing to grant Darren the time he so feebly requested; Livia knew that time was not something Darren may have. It was as if Darren was holding a candle stick at its middle, hungrily watching the fire eat away at both ends of the candle almost begging to be burned. Livia wanted to protect Darren from himself, but how could she do that without threatening the relationship they had, that they built from an innate understanding and support; without crossing those invisible lines they created…lines they trusted the other not to cross?
What was Livia to do as Darren tore himself apart from the inside out if doing anything would hurt him twice as much. Livia could not be quiet, not forever, but she could be there to pick up the pieces as best she could, with no judgment, no forced promises…no shame or hurt…sometimes that was all you can do, for the moment that was all Livia could do.
A/N: Happy New Year! I hope this year for everyone is better than the last! And I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!
I really enjoyed the first half of this chapter, mainly because it really delves into the internal struggles Darren is dealing with, and I think it really depicts—in a very visual way—how the past few months between the ending of the last story and the beginning of this one has impacted him emotionally, mentally, etc. Darren's mentality also makes sense in that despite the 'peace' being maintained by the blackmail, there is still conflict. There are still enemies—at least to Darren—out there trying to prevent his freedom and that is also messing with him emotionally, mentally, etc. I think this section of the chapter also shows Darren's growth...to an extent, nothing is linear, in his relationships with the Bats, the people around him etc.
The second half of the chapter I certainly enjoyed writing. I think Darren and Livia's relationship is probably the most compelling couple I've created, at least I hope it is! That being said, I feel that the second part of the Livia-centered sections needed to happen because the situation where only three people know about Darren's past with self-harm, even if one of them was his doctor, just isn't enough. And that is a continued realization for at least the earlier part of this story. What becomes of this aspect of the story and how Livia and Tim deal/react well, you'll need to stick with it to find out!
Also, just a quick writing update. Chapter 16 is basically done, I just need to edit and see if I want to add a portion/section to it. If I reach ~ 10 chapters posted and haven't gotten ahead of chapter 16 or feel I will be pressured to try and write/post chapters I will most likely go on hiatus until I am back at a comfortable pace; you guys will know if that is the case as I will post the Nobody's Paradox Interim 'chapter' instead. Please bear with me, I have so many ideas but unfortunately not enough time in the day to write as I once did.
Overall, I hope you all liked this chapter. As always, if you have any questions, comments or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!
