I just wanted to say thank you for the reviews! They're greatly appreciated! I also want to mention, that there's quite a few more characters in this story than the tags would allow. Such as Dick, Bane, and yes, Hush. (Just to name a few.) I hope you guys enjoy the next part of Del's journey. This is probably going to be updated weekly. (Unless I can't help myself and finish chapter 4 tomorrow.)
-Lyss
Alfred's not a man of many words, but when he opened his mouth, it always seemed to exactly the right thing. Tucked into the back seat, his coat wrapped around me and my bloody night gown, he didn't say much at all, if anything. I can only imagine what kind of memories that night had brought to the forefront of his mind.
The window felt cold against my cheek as I leaned against the glass, watching how the houses begin to lessen the further we drove from Gotham. Soon there were no houses at all, just blackness and the occasional wandering lights from the oncoming traffic. But those too stopped appearing. Or maybe I had fallen asleep, for the next thing I can recall, is feeling as though I might fall when the door gave away, but he was there to catch me. He was always there to catch me.
One moment, Mama was tucking her in, the next she was waking in a room she hardly recognized. Her breath hitched as reality began to sink in. Her nightmare…was no dream at all. Sitting up in a sea of blankets, dressed in an unfamiliar tee-shirt the child let her eyes adjust to the dusky hue of the room. The kind of color that sets in when the night begins to lose its battle with the day.
Working herself out of the twisted sheets, Delilah slid to the floor, clenching her teeth when her gauze wrapped feet hit the floor harder than expected. Tears automatically welled up in her eyes. "It's okay to cry, Baby, but count to ten and take a big deep breath" Some thought it was strange, that Paige had taught her daughter to count when she cried. As if it was something cruel. But it stopped the tears more often than not. "One…two… three…" Softly she counted to ten, let her breath out, and took the next step. It still ached, but not nearly as bad. Slowly she crept to the window, barely tall enough to peek out into the fog.
Below her, a Garden of Eden, dotted with fountains and lined with topiaries that seemed to stretch out into the sky. But there on the lawn was a man, leaping, and kicking into the air as if he had some unseen opponent. Surely only ninjas knew how to do that sort of thing. The idea was quickly dismissed, when voices began to rise beyond the walls.
"It's not my fault!"
"Like hell! He told you to keep watch on them!"
"I'd been watching them for weeks! Last night was the only night-"
"Yeah, and look what happened, Jason. You got careless."
It took some courage before Del could manage to wander into the hall. The last time she had gravitated toward raised voices, things were horrific at best. Just at the base of the stairs, two new, exasperated faces. Two boys, both were certainly older than her, but "Dick" was taller and even older than his counterpart. Still not quite sure, Delilah took the stairs a slow step at a time.
"Shut up, Dick. You're starting to sound like Bruce."
"That makes one of us at least."
"Fuck you, it wasn't a compliment."
When the step squeaked in protest under the girl's foot, she froze, clinging to the banister railings for dear life. Both their heads snapped up. For a moment Jason just glowered at her, before storming off, muttering who knows what under his breath.
That left Dick standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Hi."
Del slid down and sat on the step, reminding herself to take a breath as he bound up a couple steps, and sat down himself. "What's your name, Kiddo?"
"Delilah." She murmured, watching the creases form around his dark eyes as his mouth broke into a smile. Twisting toward her, he stretched his hand out to her. His fingers clasped her hand easily. "I'm Dick." As his hand fell away, he stood up. "Want to see something cool?" When the girl nodded, the young man took a breath, and then proceeded to do a series of twisted flips down the stairs. Reaching the bottom he simply straightened himself and took a bow.
The child grinned. "What if you messed up?" She asked. Dick started back up the stairs, but stopped to make a face as if he were actually pondering her question. "It would hurt." He said, reaching out to pull the girl to her feet.
"I'm not going to get in trouble am I?"
"For what?"
"Calling you Dick."
The boom of his laugh was a welcomed sound.
"Hey Alfred, look what I found." The kitchen was full of cloudy light, and the smell of bacon. Alfred was facing the stove, pans sizzling away in front of him. At the small island, Jason sat, letting his fork fall to his plate with a clink.
"Miss Delilah. Well, good morning." Alfred greeted her. "Quite the early bird I see." Dick stared down at the floor rubbing his neck before looking back up. "Yeah…we probably woke her up, sorry."
"You two could have woken the dead." His voice sent a chill up her spine long before the cool air swept in from behind him. Bruce mopped his face with a towel before setting it around his shoulders. Del, immediately went for him. "Mr. Wayne…where's my mom?" A fragile stillness crept into the room, forcing Bruce down on his haunches.
His fingers felt cold against her temple, as they brushed the hair from her face. "Del, your mom was hurt very badly." But of course she knew that.
"Is she okay now?" But she knew the answer; Bruce could see it, as the girl fought to keep her emotions in check, but the tears were already coming. "She's going to be okay, right?" Goddamn it. She was too young for this.
"No, Del."
Her trembling mouth fell letting a sob slip by her lips. Reaching out to her, the small body collapsed into his arms.
"Well, there goes my appetite." Jason grumbled, shoving his plate away.
"Master Jason!"
Bruce didn't even look in his direction. He only made a mental note to deal with it later, as the kid left the room, Dick hot on his heels. Jason had been so full of rage lately; it was starting to leak into everything. He had hoped that making Jason Robin, that he would find discipline. That it would help him, but so far, the kid seemed unreachable. It was certainly a conundrum, but at this moment he couldn't focus on that.
Right now, there was a child sobbing into his Gi. His child. A child who just had her entire world turned upside-down. And to think, he and Paige had thought it was safer this way. The thought was insulting. Unsure of what to do, he rose from the ground. He knew all too well what it had felt like to have all you've ever known ripped from you. He simply held onto her, trading glances with Alfred when she began to softly count. When she reached ten, he could feel the frail ribcage under his arms, expand and then slowly release. It was then he sat her on the edge of the counter.
"I-I can't make-make them stop." She said in hitching notes, smearing her tears with the back of her hands. Only when she lowered her arms did Bruce smudge the tears with his thumb. "That's okay." But in truth he was still taken aback by the amount of self-control she was showing. Was Paige so afraid for the girl's heart that she taught her to try and keep herself from getting too worked up? Or was it something else?
"What's going to happen to me?" She asked between sniffs.
"You're going to stay with me."
"I can't go home?"
Bruce shook his head. "Afraid not. You have to stay with a family member, and the only one you have is your father."
"But I don't have one of those!" she protested. The words cut deeper than Bruce thought they would, but it was the choice he'd made, one he wished now he could have amended so much sooner than right now.
"Yes you do. He just hasn't been in your life like he probably should have been."
Delilah's blue eyes, his eyes, looked down at her bandages.
"Del…I'm your father."
The moment she looked back up at him, all he could see was Paige. She had his eyes, and unfortunately, his ears. But everything was her mother. The shape of her mouth, the small round nose, the color of her dark chestnut hair, and even the "I don't believe you" look she was giving him now, she had certainly gotten that from her mother.
"You can call me Bruce, if you don't want to call me…you know…. You just can't keep calling me 'Mr. Wayne.'"
"Okay, Mr. Wayne- I mean Bruce."
Baby steps. "Now then, you think you could let Alfred take a look at your stitches after breakfast?" When she nodded, he helped her into a chair at the island.
As Bruce left the kitchen, he stopped in the door threshold, simply watching the girl and Alfred. Maybe with some luck, she would manage to be more resilient than he had been. This wouldn't leave her unscathed, but maybe, just maybe…it wouldn't keep her from being the girl he saw right now.
But tragedy was not through with them just yet. Things would get so much worse before they could even begin to get better.
