A/N: WE'RE BACK BABY!


Chapter: 11

"I don't understand it, I get into a fight with Derek and I get suspended but Darren gets into a fight and he just gets detention," Tim muttered from his spot on the couch in the living room of Wayne Manor. Livia threw a grin Tim's way, shrugging her shoulders at his exasperation with the issue,

"I'm sure that just has to do with the headmaster change," Stephanie mumbled, writing out an answer on a homework sheet, "Tim you better help me out with this history assignment when you're finished."

Steph sat comfortably on the thick rug her notebooks scattered before her across the new-ish coffee table. One or two of the wooden tables had been broken by Darren…unintentionally of course, though they were thoroughly damaged enough that they needed to be replaced,

"Or because Darren's new," Livia added as she worked through translating a paragraph in Spanish, shifting in her spot on the floor, leaning against the base of the couch for support, "You've been going to the Academy since you were a child,"

"So, there's precedent there," Stephanie stated pointedly, holding a finger up and waggling at Tim who glowered playfully at her,

"But…but—!" Tim started insistently despite the groan Stephanie let out. Livia merely chuckled at her friends' antics as Tim continued his tirade of unfairness in the discipline dealt out by Headmaster Alverstone, "—Derek has also been going to the Academy since he was a child! So, I call…injustice!"

"I think you're forgetting Alverstone wanted a reciprocal punishment, so he probably went with the path of least resistance," Livia interjected, "Care to weigh in Mr. Juvenile Delinquent?" she questioned, nudging Darren who sat above her on the couch. He'd been steely quiet since they'd all decided to at least attempt to finish their homework together. He'd started out strong, meticulously scratching away on a sheet of notebook paper, but had since discarded the piece of homework and settled for mindlessly drawing on Livia's free hand seemingly unaware of the world around him. Glancing at the ballpoint pen still roaming across her skin, a strangely calming sensation, Livia saw scatters of whorls and loops, a few roses with sharp thorns, and a pretty good rendering of the pomegranate tattoo on Livia's wrist, which had allowed the merge between hers and Klarion's magical essences.

Darren had a right to be upset, and a right to be deeply broody since the meeting with both his guardians and Lydia of all people, but the aftermath of that fateful meeting was poignantly noticeable. Tenison settled heavily between their small group, and it was disconcerting, to say the least. Darren's silence did not help matters, but all the same, they were used to it. Livia had been filled in on what had happened…and she couldn't help but wonder if the outcome would have been the same if she ditched class as Tim and Stephanie had. But Livia couldn't think like that, it wasn't what happened, and it wouldn't change the fact that everything had been too much for Darren. It was different in a public setting such as a school. There wasn't anywhere that was private, nowhere void of a teacher, student, or janitorial staff, and there was nowhere Darren could go when the past leapt for his throat. Darren couldn't blow up or let out steam the way he was able to at home or through private talks with Canary, so Tim had seemed an easier target to deal with at the time, especially with Darren's apparent and mounting frustration toward his friend.

Livia had been right that Tim was overreaching in his attempts to 'manage' Darren while at school. Perhaps 'manage' wasn't quite the right word or maybe it was too strong a word but that in all essence was what Tim had been doing. Livia knew that Tim meant well and that his only intention was to protect Darren and protect their entire family…which in all honesty was a lot to put on himself…but his methods were becoming unorthodox and overbearing. Livia just hoped Tim didn't take Darren's actions too personally. They had no idea what Darren had been thinking or reliving or feeling or seeing at that moment…though from what he had yelled Darren seemed extremely lucid and aware at the time.

Tim appeared unaffected by Darren's aggressive confrontation in the main office. He conversed, joked, and interacted with everyone as if nothing had happened. But Livia had tried, just once, to maintain eye contact with Tim long enough to take only a small peek beyond surface-level aura and emotional reading. Eyes were windows to the soul and Livia was good at seeing inside even if just for a second, Tim broke eye contact before she overextended into mind-reading territory. Though Livia got enough from that one simple glance. Guilt melded with concern as well as bristling astonishment. Tim hadn't seen Darren coming, and he wasn't sure how to really feel about it. Though he didn't blame Darren, nor did he necessarily blame himself. Guilt could often be confused for embarrassment, though Livia had no need to ponder or to try and distinguish which emotion she had actually picked up on. She had her answers.

Darren, upon Livia's nudge, jerked to attention blinking once before glancing down at her. Seeing the expectant look on her face he glanced over at Stephanie and Tim, also waiting for a response before seemingly internally shaking himself,

"Uh…what?" Darren questioned his tone subdued,

"We were debating the variety of punishments. Tim got suspended, you got detention…where's the difference?" Livia supplied. Darren looked rather uninterested as he shrugged,

"I'm running out of room," Darren monotoned, ignoring the question entirely, his gaze turning once more to his substrate…the back of Livia's hand,

"Well tough," Livia replied gently, "I need my right hand, Darren. Are you gonna answer the question or just pout?"

"Does it matter?" Darren asked, again ignoring Livia's attempt at poking fun, at trying to get some semblance of a reaction out of him,

"It definitely matters to Timbo here," Steph muttered,

"Well then he should take it up with Headmaster Alverstone, I'd certainly rather spend the next few days home than in that stone cage,"

"Do you really not like it at the Academy?" Livia questioned seriously. She'd thought he'd be happy to spend more time with her and their friends…but since his cold reception this afternoon and his reaction after the meeting with the headmaster…it appeared all of their assumptions had been off. Granted…Livia knew to an extent what has been occurring during PE, she'd been there for that. But the others knew nothing; and it appeared Darren was content with that, happy to operate with his own agenda during school hours as long as nothing jeopardizes those hidden operations.

The mood around the coffee table had soured considerably, and all eyes were on Darren intent on hearing his answer. Darren's response was as lackluster as his behavior,

"Does it matter?" Darren asked again, shrugging unbothered,

"I'm sure many people, including us, would say it does," Tim murmured if Darren heard him…which he definitely did…he didn't acknowledge it though Tim seemed to expect that response or lack thereof, and didn't seem upset or annoyed by it,

"Has Dick chewed you out yet?" Stephanie questioned, grinning impishly,

"Steph," Livia chided softly, "Don't mess with him," Of course, they had all been trying to get a reaction from Darren for some time, but this wasn't the way to do it. Lighthearted teasing was one thing but targeting what was truly causing him unease was not the route they wanted to go. Darren though shifted uncomfortably in his seat at Steph's question and Livia realized that perhaps that flicker of anxiety in his posture was the reason he was so subdued. Dick had never been angry with him, disappointed in him, or yelled at him…this was new territory for both of them. A test of sorts, something neither one of them was prepared for,

"N-no," Darren stuttered his answer, the artwork on Livia's hand as abandoned as his notebook and pencil forgotten on his lap. Darren's hands instead began picking at the skin around his thumb viciously, pinpricks of red dotting his skin before they disappeared entirely the ripped wounds healing over almost instantly. Livia wanted to put a hand over his, to push the picking fingers away but knew it wasn't the time or the moment for that…not after what had happened that day in school and certainly not after he pulled away from her before. Livia understood to an extent why he had done that, perhaps underlying irritation from his interaction with Derek and the knowledge that he was probably going to get called to the office…was she absolutely sure not exactly…but all the same this moment wasn't about her,

"He's been quiet…quieter than he's ever been to me before," Darren continued, hesitantly as if uncertain about revealing this piece of information. As if speaking the words out loud suddenly solidified the truth of the statement into being,

"What about Barbara?" Stephanie questioned, genuine curiosity in her tone,

"Steph," This time Tim stepped in his tone filled with caution, "Stop teasing him,"

"I'm not—!" Stephanie insisted,

"—She had to take Mikey back to the penthouse, he forgot a book for school," Darren interrupted whatever Steph had been going to say, relief evident in his tone,

"Really Dare, it's not the end of the world," Tim stated,

"Yeah, kids get in trouble all the time," Livia jumped on, hoping Darren didn't actually place significant weight on the punishment from a high school Headmaster. Darren acted as if he hadn't heard them, instead he reached for a nearby notebook, refocusing on the page effectively ending the conversation.

There was a beat of momentary silence before Tim pulled out his calculus homework and Stephanie went back to her assignment, whether it was for history or English was unclear, but she seemed discontent with it, nonetheless. Livia, her mind stuck somewhere between English, Spanish and French, decided to take a break and reached for her phone. She started scrolling through posts and feeds mindlessly at first until one particular piece of news caught her eye sending pinpricks down her back and her hair on end,

"What's up?" Stephanie questioned, ever so perceptive, "Bad news?" Lilia bit her lip, hesitating for a second before shaking her head decidedly,

"No, I was invited to a séance by Allison," Livia answered, somewhat exasperated by the thought, as she hurriedly shut off her phone and tossed it back on the wooden table. It wasn't a complete lie…in fact, it was actually true. But it was also not the source of Livia's sudden consternation.

Livia had to lie, or rather disguise a lie with some semblance of truth or Darren would know something wasn't right. Telling a lie was not possible, Darren could hear the difference, hear the heart stutter, hear the changes in the body as an individual lied…and Livia didn't want her secrets out in the open not yet not after everyone had bent over backward to save her from previous lies so recently. Livia had to become a crafter of white lies—lies dotted with the truth—as it was the only imbalance in her and Darren's relationship. Darren could lie all he wanted, and he was immune to most magics, while Livia had no defense from his ears…so she had to be creative. It was the only way even if she felt horrible doing it.

Darren paid no mind to what Livia said, his concentration only on the notebook in his lap as he scribbled away drawings upon drawings filling the page. Perhaps his inattention was a blessing…though it could also be misleading. Darren was often more aware than he appeared in any given situation, an aspect of himself shaped by his training,

"Why the hell would she have a séance? Halloween was weeks ago," Stephanie muttered, her eyebrows scrunching in displeased confusion,

"Well, she's recently developed a thing for witches,"

"I hope not too seriously," Darren muttered, the hint of a smile in his tone. Tim stifled a snort while Stephanie rolled her eyes a mischievous grin on her face,

"Well if you ever feel too threatened, please come to me first. Don't immediately kill her," Livia stated dryly, happy that Darren showed some semblance of humor. Perhaps still upset by that afternoon, at least Darren was still able to see and push past it all to some degree,

"Nonsense, I'll fetch a rug, we'll dress up as carpenters and we'll ditch the body in Jason's old grave," Stephanie stated flippantly, "No one will know a thing,"

"Except for the two other people in this room," Tim pointed out,

"We can take you," Stephanie stated, confident. Tim and Livia shared a look before both shaking their heads,

"Nah, I don't think you could," Livia monotoned humorously, "And you two are not murdering my best friend,"

"I thought I was your best friend!" Stephanie gasped,

"I can have more than one best friend!" Livia admonished,

"Et tu Brutus?" Stephanie sighed dramatically, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead in a mock faint,

"Oh my God," Livia groaned, putting a hand to her face, "Forget I said anything,"

"Not possible,"

"Should I even go?" Livia questioned, and seriously at that, "I mean…is bringing a real witch to a séance like…a bad idea?"

"Do you even know how to do a séance?" Tim asked, his tone ringing with a strange note. All at once, as silence rang heavily in the room, glancing around at each of her friends' faces Livia realized all three of her friends had people they desperately wanted to see again. This, like mentioning her ability to see Markus, was a dangerous rabbit hole to jump into,

"In theory," Livia replied evasively,

"Then I wouldn't sweat it," Tim said evenly, though Livia could hear the ringing of disappointment in his tone and couldn't help feeling guilty for it. Darren and Stephanie said nothing, and the scratching of pencils resumed showering the room once more in silence. A different kind of tension creating rapids between the four friends.


Tim finished his work first, prompting him to break off to prep for patrol later that evening in the Batcave, which pulled Livia from obsessively scrolling through her phone. Down and down the cellular rabbit hole Livia fell. Refreshing repeatedly pining for some kind of update or upload, a continuation of the story that had caught her eye and stirred a deep feeling of panic low in her gut. She couldn't focus on any of her other work and as Darren and Stephanie struggled through their assignments together Livia took the opportunity Tim provided to detach herself from the phone, shoving it in her pocket before getting up claiming a lame excuse of needing to go to the bathroom which neither of her friends seemed to hear. They were all distracted from today, the intensity of the afternoon bleeding into the evening and messing with all of them. They would all survive…it is what friends did, true friends that is did, but they still needed to process, to reevaluate, and push through the tension of the day.

Perhaps Livia couldn't tell her friends about the piece of news that caught her eye, or the fact that strange things were continuing to happen despite the Baudelaire curse being broken, but Livia could push things forward in solidifying protection for herself. Magical wards could only do so much and there was a promise Livia needed to fulfill if she ever wanted the Baudelaire necklace back. As much as Livia hated what she needed to do, it was the only way to claw back at least some control over herself. The necklace had protected Livia from direct magical and physical attacks by Klarion…and long before the necklace was in Livia's possession, an enchanted bracelet kept Livia's magic from emerging naturally. The bracelet was gone, and Livia had no intention of stifling herself magically with it once again. The next best thing was the necklace and the only way to get that back was to appease Constantine, which meant going behind Darren's back and somehow obtaining his blood.

Livia hurried through the entryway into Bruce's office, the only entrance to the Batcave that Livia knew of…there were others of course but they remained a mystery…only to stop short at seeing Bruce himself sitting at his desk, a pile of paperwork before him with a tray of tea and sandwiches by his elbow. Livia stumbled to a stop with a small, and embarrassing, squeak of surprise. Bruce glanced up, his gaze narrowed as he refocused on his work seemingly unbothered by Livia's sudden appearance,

"Livia, I'm sure you've been over enough to know that this is not the way to the bathroom," he stated lightly, arching an eyebrow in question. Livia sputtered, thinking Bruce had heard her lame excuse and saw right through it only to realize by the gleam in his eye and the slight smirk on his face that he was merely teasing her,

"I—uh—I…I mean, I just, I need to speak with Tim," Livia stammered, "I…um…can I—?" Livia spastically gestured toward the grandfather clock,

"You know the passcode, don't you?" Bruce mused in answer, returning his attention to the mountain of paperwork,

"Ah…right," Livia mumbled before hurrying through the passageway and down into the Batcave steeping with embarrassment.

Mortification and nerves were all Livia could feel. She didn't know why she was doing this; she wasn't even sure fixing the Baudelaire necklace would help. Livia didn't even know what she was trying to help by fixing the necklace in the first place. Perhaps Livia was seeking a sense of security, a feeling of protection from the remnants of Klarion. Seeing the demon in the mirror had frightened her…it implied there was some ulterior motive, some reason as to why the Merge was necessary. Klarion's words rattled dangerously around Livia's head, sending shivers down her back and an almost nauseating feeling within her gut. 'Have you ever considered I am exactly where I want to be?' 'Have you ever considered I am exactly where I want to be?' '…exactly where I want to be?' '…exactly where I want to be?' Klarion was content with being merged with Livia, and that was what scared her. Which is why Livia needed her necklace back and that was why, as much as she didn't want to do it, she needed to at least try and ask Tim for help.

Tim was over at the Batcomputer, a series of serious supercomputers, paired with holo-computers and holo-desks all built and programmed by Tim himself. A series of brutal crime scene photos littered the multiple screens as well as a seriously detailed hologram of an autopsy. Livia had to look away, the feeling of nausea intensifying at the ghastly images. Pushing away the ill-feeling as much as possible Livia internally prepared herself for a verbal battle,

"Hey, Tim. I need some help," Livia started,

"I really hope you're not referring to our math homework, I honestly don't have time to focus on that right now my brain's basically mush from that English essay," Tim mused, his gaze still on the multiple screens. He was mouthing something under his breath as he pointed the end of a pencil at several different images before jotting something down a frown on his face,

"You…store blood in the cave in case someone needs a transfusion, right?" Livia asked, deciding not to beat around the bush. It was blunt and jarring, which thankfully got Tim's attention,

"Uh…yeah. With the variety of blood types, we've got? O for Dick, AB for Bruce and Damian, A for me and Stephanie, B for Jason and Barbara, Darren's drugged-up sludge of a bloodstream? We've got to have them on hand," Tim rattled off, counting the types on his fingers before pausing and slowly rolling his gaze over to Livia who stood over him a few paces away her hands laced behind her back, "…why do you ask?" Livia grimaced, shifting from foot to foot,

"I need a pint of Darren's blood," it felt blasphemous to say it, and Livia hated the shocked expression that split across Tim's face,

"And why the hell would you need that?" He questioned; Tim's hands now braced on either side of the chair arms as if ready to fling himself into action. Perhaps it was an out-of-the-ordinary ask, and certainly, something that caused alarm…it certainly wasn't like Livia. Maybe Tim thought it was a certain red-eyed demon coming out to play…and that probably wasn't so far off from the truth,

"Constantine has my necklace, he wants the blood and he'll give it back," Livia's voice sounded desperate and a part of her knew she could use her magic. Livia could make Tim give her Darren's blood and then make him forget anything ever happened…but she couldn't do it. Not to Tim, not to her friend,

"Constantine?" Tim hissed, surging to his feet, "Why the hell does he want Darren's blood,"

"I-I don't know…he wouldn't tell me. But Darren is an Anchor, they're blood has significant magical properties," Livia stuttered. Tim paced in front of her arms crossed, and it was rather intimidating,

"Why does he have your necklace? You can't even wear it!"

"That's the problem," Livia stated, "I went to him thinking he could break the spell or tell me how to fix the necklace…but he took it and said he'd only help if I gave him Darren's blood,"

"He's blackmailing you and you didn't come to any of us? In fact, why did you go to him at all?"

"I did come to you!" Livia pointed out, feeling frustrated, though she avoided the latter half of Tim's logical question, "I didn't want to do this and at least I didn't just magically steal it all behind your back in the first place. I came to you because I need your help. I need that necklace back…it's, it's from my family. It's a piece of them and a piece of my past no matter how twisted and dark."

Livia couldn't help but feel bad. Emotionally manipulating Tim with his own desire to reconnect to everyone who had left him was a low blow, but it was something that connected each of them anyway. Tim would have understood Livia's desperate need to connect with any semblance of her past, of her father, regardless of anything brought up earlier by the mention of the séance. Tim's expression flickered with regret, as well as understanding,

"What does the necklace look like?" Tim asked finally, bringing a hand to his chin in thought, "We're not giving Constantine anything of Darren's…at least not unless we know what it's for…but I'm still going to help you get your necklace back. We might be able to nab it from him during the Thanksgiving Potluck on the Watchtower next week,"

"There's…there's a Thanksgiving Potluck…in space? With the Justice League?" Livia questioned, completely distracted by that fact, almost actually amused by the thought of Earth's mightiest heroes having a casual potluck,

"Yeah, there's one every year," Tim answered off-handedly,

"Ha, does Batman bring the pumpkin pie?" Livia couldn't help but joke, the mere thought of Bruce decked out in his armor toting around a pie tin sent her snickering despite the seriousness of the situation. Perhaps it was a testament to their friendship that they were able to bounce back and forth between the two extremes without too much whiplash,

"Nah, Alfred bakes it and it's pecan, not pumpkin," Tim cracked a grin of his own though his gaze was still shrouded in seriousness, his mind still running in circles over the sudden involvement of Constantine's ulterior motives,

"Sounds like my kind of pie. Do try and save me a slice," Livia stated playfully, crossing her arms,

"I'm sure you're welcome as Darren's plus one,"

"He hasn't even said anything about it," Livia muttered, a bit darkly as Tim threw her a questioning look,

"Well, he's been a bit preoccupied as of late. I'm sure he just thinks it goes without saying. He's not the best at picking up social cues like this,"

"If you say so," Livia sighed, "Will Constantine even go to this thing?"

"If we say he'll only get what he wants if he shows up…he definitely will," Tim replied,

"And he won't be suspicious?"

"Depends on how desperately he needs this magical boost. So anyway, the necklace?" Tim asked, pulling them back to the topic at hand, "Describe it to me,"

"It's a silver necklace with a kind of knot design on its center. It's of a raven,"

"A raven? Is that like, a family symbol or something?"

"No," Livia shook her head, "Allicio said that a distant relative designed it. And as with all magical items, the spellcasters themselves or members of their family line are the only ones who can undo the spell. It's someone of our line not touched by the Baudelaire curse, though apparently, the Roths have their own demons to face whatever that means—,"

"—Roth?" Tim echoed, freezing in his resumed pacing eyes wide, "Did you say Roth?"

"Uh…yeah," Livia replied, uncertain of Tim's sudden shock. She couldn't tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing,

"As in Raven Roth?" Tim asked,

"I don't know…I've never heard that name before," Tim let out a chortle, a laugh of relief, sending several bats screeching through the interconnected caves out of irritation,

"Livy…you don't need to give Constantine what he wants. We know a Roth…she can undo the spell. That bastard probably knew Raven could do it and didn't tell you," Sweet cool relief washed over Livia, only to be overshadowed by rage,

"That asshole!" Livia hissed, "He knew what that necklace meant to me…and he just used me for his own personal gain," fire crackled, spiraling around her arms and settling as spheres of flame in the palms of her hands,

"Power down Livia…you wouldn't beat Constantine in a fight—well maybe now you would. Probably best not to test that theory, it won't do any good to go after him," Tim stated placatingly,

"Will Raven be at this Potluck thing?" Livia questioned hopefully, extinguishing her flames though a part of her still wanted to wreck Constantine and his smug grinning face,

"Definitely, all the Titans will. And if we play our cards right, so will Constantine. He's pretty ballsy in front of everyone including Zatanna but he's cowed by Raven, she's pretty powerful…and I think she knows something about him that no one else does. You'll finally get to meet a long-lost relative and get your necklace back,"

"Thank you, Tim…I-I really appreciate this. I almost did something I'd completely regret…I, I can't believe I fell for his lies," Livia shook her head, ashamed of how willing she was to dance along with Constantine's tune,

"Don't blame yourself," Tim said seriously, placing a hand on her shoulder, and giving it a small squeeze, "You're not the first and unfortunately you won't be the last. Though, this does beg the question…why does he need the blood of an Anchor, and how far would he really go to try and get it?"

"Yet another target on Darren's back," Livia sighed, "How can this keep happening?"

"A target Darren doesn't need to know about," Tim cautioned. Livia thought back to everything Darren had to face, everything he had to survive, and continues to burden even if freed from the court,

"Agreed," Livia stated, nodding slightly,

"We'll test the waters and see how much Constantine's willing to rock the boat to get what he needs."

Silence fell between them, and Tim slowly returned to his work on the computer. Livia remained, still reeling from everything she'd learned, from Constantine's lies to the discovery that her very distant relative was a member of the Teen Titans…and couldn't help but feel both relieved and cautious of these new pieces of information. Livia's family was rather small, and the prospect of meeting someone new, even if they were barely related was daunting especially if Raven was as powerful as Tim claimed. Even so…Livia would get it done if it meant containing Klarion's potential return and if it meant regaining control of herself in her sleep. Livia's phone buzzed, drawing her attention away from her thoughts to face another bothersome headline. She quickly pocketed the device before turning to leave,

"Well…I need to head out—," It was a sudden and lame dismissal though Tim didn't seem to take offense too enthralled in whatever he was investigating. Livia would take the distraction if it meant she could leave with relative anonymity,

"—Alfred can give you a ride," Tim offered, his gaze still locked on the screens, though a note of decisive underlying attention was there in his tone. He didn't want Livia to feel she needed to leave even if he was wrapped up in whatever case was on screen,

"No…no! I uh, I can teleport back no biggy,"

"Okay, if you're sure. Have a nice night,"

"You too, good luck with patrol,"

"Yeah, thanks we'll need it. Darren's for sure going to be benched. The question is who's going to do it, Bruce, or Dick?"

"Oof," Livia stated, grimacing before turning on her heel and vanishing. Reappearing in the living room, giving Stephanie a fright, to gather up her school supplies and say goodbye to her friends. Stopping just outside the gates to Wayne Manor, shifting her bag higher up on her shoulder, Livia let out a breathless sigh taking in the peace and cold of the quiet November evening. Her breath dancing in the wind, Livia pulled out her phone once more skimming through an article detailing a murder at a jewelry store, the cause of her distress, and the sudden need for more protection…for more control…security, certainty whichever. A murder at the very same place indicated on the receipt as where Livia had gone to get her still-healing cartilage piercing.

Coincidence or not, Livia couldn't tell, nor could she comprehend what this meant if anything at all. Was this Klarion's doing…or Livia's doing? Could she be capable of this type of devastation, without her knowledge? She didn't know, and that's what scared her more than anything. Livia needed to figure this out…and fast.


"What do you think you're doing?" Dick questioned, upon catching Darren heading over to the suit display cases, his voice echoing off the cave walls making the sternness of his tone ring rather harshly in the empty cavern. Dick suppressed a wince at the sound, regretting his interference even if he knew it was warranted. Darren froze, his shoulders stiffening noticeably as he slowly turned to face Dick. His face was expressionless, and his eyes almost appeared empty, void of all emotion…a mask, instinctive protection. Such a reaction, or rather lack thereof, wasn't an unfamiliar sight though it was unnerving as it was presented to Dick…as if Darren felt it was needed for this inevitable conversation,

"Getting ready for patrol," Darren supplied, his tone just as emotionless as his demeanor…flat affect. The sentence was said as if a simple fact, as if Dick questioning Darren's very action was wrong, undue, and vicious. Dick couldn't tell if Darren was behaving or rather presenting the situation as an attack on purpose or if it was all just part of him protecting himself.

This conversation was warranted. Darren knew this, Dick knew this. The fact of the matter wasn't necessarily that Darren had gotten in trouble. It was not entirely the detention that was the issue, of course, it was not ideal, and it was in part a reason for the benching. But the more pressing issue was the apparent fact that Darren was behind in school, not just by one or two assignments but by a slew of them. How he and Barbara missed calls home or hadn't been informed of the lateness of Darren's work was a mystery and perhaps spoke to more pressing matters whether directed at Darren himself in meddling somehow or to the school administration for not informing the guardians of missing work to the degree where it was problematic. Either way, the issue was confounding. Dick didn't understand how neither he nor Barbara could miss it, how could they not see that Darren was struggling? Were they so ill-prepared as guardians or was this a testament to Darren's ability to manipulate them—or rather, to hide from them the truth of his situation—Dick couldn't tell. He didn't want to think of Darren as purposefully concealing these truths from them even if that is clearly what has happened if the other issues the Headmaster mentioned were any indication. But that was a conversation for another day, right now Dick would focus on the problem in front of him, and that was Darren's academics and Bruce's rules regarding patrol,

"Dare," Dick started, uncertain of how this conversation to go, he figured using Darren's nickname would disarm his cousin somewhat and perhaps make him feel less cornered by the discussion, "We told you what would happen if you fell too far behind in your schooling. If you run the risk of failing, you're benched until you bring your grades up."

To that, Darren made a silent but telling face. A scowl more accurately. His shoulders were still tense, but his demeanor was less hollow which was promising. Though Dick couldn't ignore the tight feeling in his chest as if he'd let someone down or hurt someone unintentionally. He knew it was irrational to feel that way, but relationships with Darren were so delicate, so fragile, his trust was as volatile as his emotions, and Dick…he didn't want to lose that trust even if it was just a temporary enactment of the academics rule. It was frustrating to feel so negatively towards something that was a normal occurrence for anyone of schooling age patrolling in Gotham…it was like any teen being grounded! Though Dick knew to Darren it was different, and he also knew how important patrolling was to Darren. He understood that feeling well, how that feeling of trust washed over everything negative. Gave you purpose, a drive, and a sense of peace even with all the bad, even with all the darkness that came with it. Dick knew Darren saw the trust given to him as frail, even when it was not, and Dick knew how important it was to Darren to be out there with his family securing the city side by side with the rest of the Bats. It was painful to take such responsibility away, especially when—to Darren—that responsibility was tied to the trust and place provided by the Bats…their family.

While these were not Dick's rules, and while he had been subjected to them just as any of the other vigilantes were, as an adult Dick could understand Bruce's reasoning as well as the need for such measures. That being said, Dick could also sympathize with the disheartening realization that the warning was being taken seriously and that something was being taken away as punishment. So, Dick pushed through, beyond that feeling of guilt and that fear of losing Darren to something like this…it was time for him to be a parent even if he didn't want to be one just yet,

"Don't give me that look," Dick sighed, "Your education is important Darren. And when you fall behind you need to catch back up before you can go out on patrol again. It's the rule," Darren looked skeptical, a glint in his eye that Dick couldn't discern any meaning from,

"Your rule or Bruce's rule?" Darren mused, a shadow of a smirk sliding across his face. Dick clenched his teeth; Darren was trying to bait him. On one hand, it was reassuring that he would use the typical tactics a teenager would use when facing punishment or even rules enforced by an older sibling left in charge—Dick had dealt with plenty of that from Jason way back when—but on the other hand it just reaffirmed that Darren didn't necessarily see Dick as a guardian, as a parental figure, in the sense that he held authority over him at least for the moment, in the instance of punishment for something Darren saw as benign. Dick didn't really see himself as that either, or perhaps as he mused before he didn't want to be a figure of authority over Darren's life. They were family, and while that would in some instances incite the parental authority needed in this situation…that wasn't necessarily the eclipsing role. Darren and Dick saw themselves as cousins…and yes Dick has been more of a parent than a cousin in some moments but not in a situation like this involving punishment…grounding, benching, whatever it was called. In the past few times Darren's been benched it was as Renegade, delegated by Bruce, not by Dick. To Darren, this was different.

Another issue was the fact that Darren didn't see his education as something important, which merely urged Dick on to make his cousin see the significance of an education and that meant enforcing the rule for patrol and academic work. It all came full circle, though it wasn't any easier,

"That doesn't matter," Dick stated sharply, unintentionally, wincing at Darren's minuscule flinch from the tone. He backtracked, "Look, just get the work done and you can go back on patrol. It's not up for discussion. Whether or not you're readmitted to the nightly lineup is up to you." Darren blinked at that, an almost mildly surprised look crossing his face though it vanished just as quickly.

The two of them stood there, standing off for a moment more, the silence bleeding unbearably—at least to Dick who could usually read people very well, he couldn't see past his own insecurity to understand the emotional state of his cousin's reaction to being benched—when Darren finally jerked to attention, suddenly moving…crossing the room and leaving the Batcave. Dick watched Darren leave, a hollow feeling in his chest. Darren valued truth and honesty, though he feared rejection and abandonment more than anything…and found rebuff akin to both in every unagreeable situation. Dick could only hope that he hadn't in some way lost the only true family he had left in the world…he didn't think he could bear it.


Dick let out a sigh, still staring after Darren who had since vanished from the cave, uncertainty writhing through him. He knew it was a discussion they needed to have and in a sense a boundary that had to be established…Dick did have authority over most aspects of Darren's life though he'd opted to utilize those liberties less than any parent would ideally enforce. It was, for all intents and purposes, a strange situation that placed Darren with them, with Dick more specifically, one that accumulated and brought significant baggage which all the Bats on occasion needed to tip-toe around. And perhaps that placed a wedge between Darren and Dick's role as Darren's guardian. In hoping to protect Darren and ease the transition from life with the Court and within the Nest, Dick needed to step back from the responsibility of guardianship while still maintaining an essence of that role…and perhaps Darren had taken liberties with that freedom brought about by that barrier. But within the sphere of education, Dick needed to put his foot down, and break that barrier,

"You saw that right?" Dick questioned, looking nowhere in particular. The presence of another was noticeable…Dick wondered why Darren hadn't mentioned it or perhaps that was why he'd been so passive in his responses to Dick. That thought brought a frown to Dick's face, all things considered, and despite the concern he felt for his and Darren's relationship, Dick thought the conversation had gone reasonably well. Though outside influence didn't bode well if another conversation regarding punishment, grounding, or benching, occurred.

Bruce stepped out from where he'd been hidden by the craggy stone archway leading off to the wing of the Batcave housing the many trophies accumulated over the years of crime fighting, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgment,

"I saw enough," he stated evasively. Dick grimaced over at his adoptive father,

"I guess this is how it feels for you with each of us?" Dick muttered, crossing his arms. Bruce threw a half-smirk his way as he crossed the Cave floor still dressed in work attire from earlier that day. Dick didn't know why Bruce was still in civvies, or why he'd been in the cave in anything but training clothes or the Bat suit but didn't feel the need to question his father and mentor. Maybe Bruce had guessed Darren would try to make off in his Renegade get-up and sought to intervene if Dick hadn't been set on establishing the precedent for patrol and school,

"You each had your challenges…it's never easy," The half-smile fell to a more pensive expression as if remembering past conversations of a similar vein,

"I can't stand it…," Dick growled, "I don't want him to hate me, or think that I'm like William or the Powers or the Court. I-I don't know how to do this," Bruce shook his head, a small smile growing once more on his face and Dick couldn't help but feel irritated that Bruce was amused by his distress,

"It's odd, strange…you're responsible for not one but two very different kids, and while being very young yourself. You may not be my son by blood, but you've certainly followed in my footsteps…I was not much older than you when I became your guardian," The agitation died down and a fond smile found its way on Dick's face at that memory, no matter how stained by grief and pain, he and Bruce did parallel each other rather closely…maybe sometimes too close for comfort though. Even so, Dick wouldn't complain there were worse footsteps to follow,

"Believe me, I can see the irony," Dick mused, "Though I'm not Darren's father…I'm his cousin wearing a mask of parenthood, a lie. He's not young…he's not eight like I was when you took me in, or Mike is now…he's two years out from being a legal adult and he has a mind of his own as well as a very different mindset when it comes to trust and relationships and family,"

"That is true," Bruce replied, nodding, "Jason wasn't exactly young when I found him in Crime Alley—,"

"—And look how well that turned out," Dick muttered, rubbing at his temples,

"Darren did already die," Bruce drolly pointed out,

"Not helping Bruce," Dick hissed, "It's just a benching…it's happened before. I don't understand why now is so different, why it's so drastic all of a sudden. I mean I know it's because of the incident at school, I know it's because of what's been happening there, but we don't have details only the fact that there have been problems involving Darren,"

"I can put the fear of Batman into him to get him to behave. But I don't think that would work…or alternatively, that may work too well," Dick threw Bruce a glare, clearly his adoptive father did not plan on providing any assistance in this matter. Content to let Dick suffer and sort through it on his own, perhaps Bruce was even enjoying this frantic and nerve-wracking side of guardianship as an outsider looking in and not the one experiencing it,

"To your earlier point though," Bruce conceded, clearly seeing Dick's mounting irritation, "You may not be Darren's father, but you are someone still in his life that cares. Perhaps he doesn't see it that way, maybe he'll rebel and not listen and despise the fact that you are bearing down on his established sense of freedom, but he won't hate you for it.

"His mother is gone…his father is out of his life and while his siblings are still out there, you have remained a comparative constant since his rescue from the Court. Darren may value honesty and react poorly to what he sees as betrayal, but consistency is what he craves over everything else. As long as you maintain a sense of regularity in your actions…in Darren's life, you will never truly lose him,"

"I don't know…that, that may be a problem in the very near future," Dick sighed, wondering if he should say anything at all. Both he and Barbara were still on the fence about it though Bruce could provide some insight on the decision, "We, Babs and I, were considering seeking more…specialized help for Darren. Things haven't been changing…there's still a sense of continued volatility with Darren. There's been relative improvement but that's just plateaued…and things have only worsened since his death day…the trial…Shepard's death and now we learn there are issues with school. We want to do what's best for Darren, but we don't want to hurt him in the process,"

"What do you have in mind?" Bruce questioned. Dick thought he would have already known or perhaps Bruce merely wanted confirmation on his and Barbara's plan, either way, Dick would hopefully receive some kind of an answer,

"We're planning on taking Darren to see a psychiatrist or a psychologist…I've already spoken with Dinah about it. There's clearly something there beyond what we've all experienced in terms of PTSD or depression with Darren…which goes beyond our means of treatment or therapy or management, or on occasion…lack thereof." Dick threw Bruce a slight look at that, which was thoroughly ignored.

Bruce was silent for a moment considering Dick's statement. The silence felt insufferable, forcing Dick to rock back and forth on his feet needing the movement to fill the silence, the space…the intensity of the conversation between them,

"You need to be careful bringing in a psychiatrist…it won't be easy for Darren, he will not react well to being cornered…he will run," Dick let out a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he waited for an answer…a piece of guidance,

"I know…that's what I'm most afraid of, losing him. Not to death but to the Court, as a friend, a cousin…in every sense that matters."

That fear weighed heavily on Dick's shoulders…it made him hesitate in stepping up into that parental role. That knowledge was a constant presence in the back of Dick's mind…knowing that one misstep could cost him everything he'd gained in such a short year even as Darren lost so much…it was like stepping on glass, like breathing in toxic air. It was everything and nothing all at once. An overbearing burden and a near-silent ethereal whisper in Dick's ear. Even while everything was as it should be, Dick was happy to have a cousin, a family member, he adored Darren…he wanted to give the world to Darren…to Barbara…to Mikey. To everyone orbiting his life no matter the difficulty, even if it tore Dick apart,

"Then you know how every parent feels…and exactly how Darren feels."

Dick had never truly understood parenthood, fatherhood…or perhaps even adoptionhood. Not until Bruce spoke, not until they both understood the unspoken fear of a parent…and perhaps the child's own fear as well.


A/N: Woohoo! Finally! I'm honestly so sorry it took this long to post again. Chapter 20 was...rough (writer's block is a bitch)...and I will definitely need to edit that chapter a shit ton before I'm fully happy with it. But it's done and the next section of this story can now be underway!

I honestly really enjoyed writing the last two sections, especially the one with Dick and Bruce. It was definitely a shift in how Dick views his and Darren's relationship, and how it might need to change/shift going forward. It's also another insight into how Darren's view of people shifts in quite a volatile way, from valuing them intensely to viewing everything they've done as a betrayal with a very short turnaround. He's actually done it a lot throughout this series, and if you went back and read through everything again I'm sure people would pick up on how often it's occurred throughout the series. It also shows how Dick is realizing that while he is only Darren's cousin and his becoming his guardian was mainly to keep him from the Powers and Courts clutches...he can't ignore that responsibility forever nor coddle Darren's precarious view of relationships out of fear that he would "lose" him. I also really loved how Bruce and Dick had that moment to chat, to discuss being adoptive fathers, and the fears/concerns Bruce had when he was really young with a young child to take care of and just coming to an understanding together about what that means and how it changed them.

Livia in this chapter is concerned about Darren though equally frustrated with him and his seeming detachment from her especially with how he reacted in the cafeteria it's giving her mixed messages. Livia also has growing worries about a few interesting new developments that popped up in her storyline. The seance for one, the article that's now haunting her (no pun intended), and the necklace that Constantine has dangling over her head. With the necklace, it was always going to come down to the Thanksgiving Potluck and the introduction of Raven Roth as one of her long-lost and very distant relatives. I know you guys were wondering if other well-known characters would make an appearance...and well, now you know! With the other issues, well you'll just have to wait and see how that turns out and what they mean for Livia's future.

With Tim and Darren, they're both just trying to make sense of what happened and also why what happened, happened. Darren is definitely resenting his blowup and the revelation of his coveted secrets to his guardians. Tim knows Darren's secrets, and he's shown that he doesn't want to keep those secrets. Darren feared that the reveal of his issues at the Academy would influence Tim to act on revealing the other darker secrets that Tim knew. Tim has also been meddling with Darren's school experience far more than Darren could handle at the moment and it blew up in both their faces. While Tim just wants Darren to see that he does understand what Darren is experiencing, to an extent of course, all the same, Tim is doing this without actually saying what that means, which is causing friction as Tim's insistence that he understands is falling short. It sounds hollow, like a catch-all just to get Darren to listen, to appease everyone around them, which is a huge struggle that Darren is experiencing as a Talon going to the Academy. Darren only knows what he's been told and what's right in front of him. Neither of them are mind readers and neither of them are great at expressing themselves at times; so it's like that is canceling everything out.

In all, this chapter was about barriers, pressure, and tension and pushing past those to do what is right, or needed, at the moment.

I hope you liked this chapter and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I will be posting every other week until chapter 20.