(A.N: Hello, readers and people. I'm sorry for the lateness of this, but I and my whole freaking family have been sick with the stomach flu. I think my sister caught it first, actually...bleeergh. It's not pretty, and I'm still not feeling the best now, but I'm here at home from school with nothing else to do, so I figured I'd post this today. Who knows, I might finish the next one today too. So keep a look out, and enjoy.)
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The next few hours passed in a dreamy, half lucid quality for both twins. Wren was insensible, her mind lost to the world while her body feebly battled the fear toxin. At the same time, Robin's exhausted, battered body finally ran out of steam, his all consuming mission done and accomplished.
Robin didn't remember waking back up after he passed out, but he did remember the searing pain that boiled his leg when Superman cauterized his wound with his heat vision to stop him from losing any more blood, and he did remember screaming until his lungs burned as his skin popped and bubbled under the lasers. He didn't remember being hefted onto Kid Flash's back and raced back to the mountain, but he did remember Wonder Woman's cool hands as they moved over his body, wrapping him in cool rags and feather soft gauze while she stitched him up. He remembered the feeling of Black Canary's sorrowed tears striking his face like rain, but not the feel of her lips on his forehead after he mumbled for his mother.
Wren didn't remember going into another violently spastic fit when the toxin started shutting down her nervous system, foam forming in the corners of her mouth. She didn't remember being cradled against Superman's chest as he made a beeline for the mountain and the infirmary, flying faster than a sonic jet, but she did remember the roar of the wind in her ears and her hair.
She remembered pieces of the horrified exclamations from the heroes and their sidekicks when they saw her injuries.
"OH my-"
"Holy SHIT-"
"Poseidon's Trident..."
"Those sick bastards..."
"Poor little girl..."
She remembered more injections, sharp pinpricks of the needles as they desperately pumped more and more antidote into her system. She remembered the smell of blood and infection when they started unwrapping and treating her injuries. But she didn't remember the pain of it. She didn't hear Wonder Woman's whispered pleas to Athena and Hera to ease her agony and bring her mind back to the world.
"Put her down, right here-"
"Are those STAB wounds?"
"Diana, help me reset this bone."
"Check her intestines, Clark, she might have internal bleeding."
"Keep her under, Oliver. Don't let her wake up. She's been through enough..."
"Good God, her legs, look at her legs...I think...she's been raped..."
Through it all, both twins fell in and out of waking dreams to escape the pain and the reality, seeing flashes of what had been and the life they'd left behind for the first time in years...
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{FLASHBACK}
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"~Încet, încet, închide ochii și… de odihnă acum…~"*
In the corner of the circus trailer nearest to the tiny fireplace, a woman sat in a sunken, patchwork easy chair, crooning softly to the two wiggling bundles in her lap. One of them squirmed in the crook of her elbow, and the blanket covering his face fell away, revealing the small dark head of a little boy. His sister sensed the movement and cried out, kicking her feet. Their mother smiled down at them with calm, kind blue eyes and rocked them until they quieted, continuing to weave a foreign melody to lull them to sleep.
"~Mami e aici, mami te iubește…~Aici ești în siguranță, aici veți rămâne…~"*
They were lovely, beautiful little two year old twins, the loveliest she had ever seen. And she would have said that even if they were not hers. To look at them was to love them immediately, even if they were throwing a tantrum. The entire circus was smitten with them, and they were horribly spoiled, because no one could ever say no to them. But their mother loved them so fiercly, and she was so proud of them. And in a few years, when they joined her and their father on stage, the audiences would love them too. Her little Rychard* and Salcie.*
"~În brațele mele, În brațele mele...~"*
The door swung open, and a tall man walked into the trailer. His hair was as dark as the babies, and his green eyes were tired, but he wore a smile on his handsome face. The sounds of animals and shouting were shut out as he closed the door and changed out of his performance clothes, then joined the woman by her chair. He pressed a kiss to her auburn curls and stroked the little girls pink fist with one finger, beaming down at them as the woman continued her song.
"~Pentru totdeauna, pentru totdeauna...~"*
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Things were slow at the orphanage- but then, things had been slow for a long time, the kind of slowness that didn't bode well for business. The halls were quiet and lit with the golden sunlight spilling in through the windows. Faint shrieks and laughter could be heard outside. The children were playing in the yard, enjoying the warm summer day.
Well...most of the children.
Miss Carmichael, the director of Gotham City home for children, sat at her desk in the front hall, lazily clicking away at the solitaire game on her desktop monitor. Her thin face drooped with boredom, and her chin rested on her manicured fingers. She hadn't been bored in years. Running a home for rambunctious, hyper little toddlers didn't give her much of any leisure time. But she was definitely bored today.
The only real excitement that the home had recently was the arrival of those twins, rushed and off the record. They weren't even entered into the system yet. Theirs was a tragic story- their parents were involved in some sort of freakish accident, something to do with a circus act and a trapeze. They were pretty little things, all shiny hair and large eyes, and for all intents and purposes they should have been adopted a long time ago.
But there was something...off, about them. They never spoke, other than to each other, and even then in a strange, garbled language. They never played with the other children. They had even tried to run away a few times. The parents found them odd, and who could blame them? There was something dark and haunted in those big, silvery eyes that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
But they needed to do SOMETHING with them soon. Funding was tight, and Gotham's high crime rate ensured that more and more poor children came through their doors every month. The home couldn't afford stragglers for very long. She didn't want to abandon them, but...
The light tinkling of a bell announced that the front door was opening, and a shadow fell over her desk. Miss Carmichael blinked and glanced up from her computer game. She hasn't been expecting any visitors. "Hello?"
A man stood in the threshold with a girl by his side. The girl was thin and wiry, with a long gleaming mane of blonde hair and shadowed green eyes. She was maybe twelve, and her clothes were dark. She stood uncomfortably rigid.
The man...his presence made the elderly matron shiver beneath her sweater. He was tall, with the broadest shoulders she'd ever seen in her life. His muscles rivaled the buffest superhero she knew. White hair spilled around his shoulders, and he was dressed in a severe, expensive suit. But what really caught her attention was the aura of icy, calculating malice that surrounded him.
Miss Carmichael half stood and paused her game, unable to look the man in his bright blue eyes. "C-can I help you, sir?"
The man smiled, and the sight made her want to run for the hills. "Yes, I believe you can. You see, my wife has recently passed on...and I want to adopt a child." Miss Carmichael cleared her throat and straightened up. "I'm sorry sir, but we don't do spontaneous adoptions here. And I don't think I saw any scheduled appointments for today. You can call the front office and arrange a home visit- I'll give you the paperwork and you can-"
"Ma'am," the man interrupted her smoothly, in a voice like honey mixed with cyanide. "I don't think you understood me. I want to adopt a child- the sooner, the better. My...daughter...wants a sibling." The blonde girl grimaced, but nodded tightly as he continued.
"However, I am a very busy man, and I don't have time for legal formalities."
Miss Carmichael fought to keep herself from trembling, and to inject a stern, professional tone into her voice. "Sir, you honestly can't expect me to let you just waltz in here and walk out with a child, can you? It wouldn't be safe, it wouldn't be right-"
"I don't see why not." His smile grew, and her throat sucked closed. "Miss Carmichael, is it? I understand your orphanage has recently fallen on...hard times. Perhaps, in exchange for a quick adoption, I could...ease some of your financial tension?" Miss Carmichael inhaled sharply, going red in the face. "Are you bribing me, sir?" How had he known about her money problems? The bank had just sent the letter that morning. She opened her mouth to tell him to take the longest hike, and then...she stopped.
The man was rich, and menacing, and if she refused him, he could make life very nasty for her. Miss Regina Carmichael was proud, not stupid. And this man gave her the damned heebie jeebies like nothing else on this earth. The sooner he left, the better. And if he was willing to PAY...
Miss Carmichael exhaled and chewed on her pale lip, thinking. This man didn't exactly scream "Loving Father"- there weren't any children that she could think of to give him. They would need to be new, unestablished, unattached...the answer fell on her like a lightning bolt from heaven.
She forced herself to look the man in his evil eyes and told herself she was doing this for the good of the home. They would be fine, they were strong...
"I believe I have just the children for you, sir...would you consider...twins?"
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{PRESENT}
Some time later- it could have been minutes, hours, days- Robin slowly faded into consciousness. He was alone, and covered in a clean white sheet. His unruly black hair had been smoothed away from his forehead, and for a minute, he thought he was somewhere else. He forgot who he was.
A sour taste lingered in the back of his throat, and his body felt tight, numb, and heavy. He was utterly exhausted. He tried to sit up, but failed half way through and slumped back against the cot. Dimly, he was alarmed, before he lost the energy to be alarmed. His dull blue eyes traveled to the left, where an I.V stuck out of his elbow. 'I should take that out..."
His mind was working at one thought per mile, struggling to push through his exhaustion and the drugs in his system. He forced his other arm to move, going at a drunken slug's pace, and pinched the I.V between his fingers.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Robin blinked his sandpaper rough eyes and moved them to the foot of his bed. He wasn't as alone as he thought. Batman stood there, still and shrouded by his long black cape. "Leave that alone, it's helping you."
Robin sniffed and tried to uncross his vision. "Wuzz...innit?" Batman fixed him with an appraising gaze. "Something to help you sleep, and something to block your pain."
"Mmnot...n'pain."
"Now you're not. Take that out and you will be."
Robin inhaled and shifted around, or tried to. He could feel stitches pulling at his skin. "Where'm I?"
"In the infirmary, in the West Wing."
Robin smirked drowsily. For some reason he didn't understand, that struck him as funny. "East Wing w'ss off limits, huh?" Batman frowned at that. "And what exactly what do you mean?" Robin shrugged and frowned in thought, puzzled. "I d'nt really know...s'methin from a story I heard once...ss'along time ago...'bout a princess, and a Beast...s'methin about being loved, n'matter how ugly or bad you are...something." he concluded with a shrug. The tiny memory was fading away as fast as he tried to recall it.
"Slade doesn't seem the type to tell fairy tales."
"He...he wasn't...he didn't...isn't."
Batman was silent for a moment, and then he sighed. "Your sister is here, too, just like we promised." Robin's face cleared a fraction, and he went rigid. "W-Wren? She's here? Is she okay?"
"She's...recovering. She had it pretty bad, and we nearly lost her to the fear toxin. But she's alive."
"C-can I see her?"
"No."
Robin slumped, disheartened, and for some strange reason, Batman felt the need to reassure him. "Not now. But later, when she's awake and you're better, you can visit her." Robin rubbed his nose and nodded, and underneath his cowl, Batman was slightly stunned by what he saw. He had expected Robin to respond to the refusal with anger, but he hadn't.
All at once, Bruce Wayne saw what he was truly looking at- a sick, injured, lonely fifteen year old boy, exhausted by life itself and resigned to the hand he'd been dealt. Robin was a child, and he looked like one for the first time in years. "How long am I gonna be here?"
"You weren't as bad as your sister, so maybe only a day. You're still confined to the mountain until you make good on our deal." Robin nodded again, clenching his fingers into his palm. "Oh. Right. That." The boy sighed, a world weary sound that shouldn't have come from a teenager. Batman cleared his throat. "You should try to sleep some more."
"M'kay...mm'ma try..." The medicine was kicking back in, and his eyes were drifting shut even as he spoke. Robin fell back against the cot and tucked his arms protectively around his body, nestling his pale cheek into the pillow. Against the bright white sheets and bandages, he looked pale and fragile. He slipped back into unconsciousness almost easily. Batman stood there for a few more moments, watching him with an unfathomable expression on his face, before he turned and left.
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{F.B}
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"B-Bruce?"
Bruce Wayne looked up from the papers on his desk to the doorway, where a little boy was standing there, looking utterly miserable and wearing- Good God- Superman pajamas. Bruce frowned- he was going to have to talk to Alfred about his ward's wardrobe. That was just not a good image. "Jason, what are you doing up? Where's Alfred?"
Jason sniffled, picking sadly at the rolls of gauze and bandages wrapped around his arms and torso. "Are you giving me up?" Bruce's eyes softened a small degree, and he folded his hands. "Why would you think that?"
"C-cause I heard you talking on the phone...you said you didn't want me to be Robin anymore cause I got hurt...I don't wanna go back, Bruce, I can do better, I promise..."
Wayne sighed and pinched his nose between his fingers. He hadn't known Jason had heard his conversation with Clark. The boy had almost gotten seriously injured after a run in with Clayface, and the incident had shaken Batman's resolve about the whole "Robin" situation. Now Jason thought his reluctance was his fault. Perfect.
"Jason, I never said I was giving you up. Don't be dramatic. I only thought that maybe we should wait until you're a little older before you fight as Robin again. You're a little boy, and if you got hurt because I let you fight-"
"But I WANNA be Robin! I don't wanna stop!" Jason protested loudly, stomping his foot. "I'm not a little boy! I can fight, too, and I'm good at it." Batman stood and scowled darkly. "Jason, you are small, and young. Clayface nearly killed you-"
"But he didn't!"
"-and I can't keep putting you in danger like that. If something happened to you I'd never forgive myself."
"But it's not fair." Jason pouted. "Wally gets to fight with Flash."
"Wally has powers, you don't. Clayface wouldn't have caught him today."
"So? I'll get better! I'll train harder like you tell me. I thought you said we were partners."
Bruce's face twitched, and he exhaled, rubbing a hand along his jaw. He glanced at Jason, and almost smiled at the determined scowl on the little boys face. "I'll...I'll think about it. Alright?"
Jason broke into a sunny smile. Apparently the answer satisfied him. "Okay. Cool." Bruce shook his head and walked to the door, ushering him back upstairs. "Go to bed, Jason. Goodnight...and where on earth did you get those pajamas?"
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TRANSLATIONS:
Încet, încet, închide ochii și… de odihnă acum…: Slowly, gently, close your eyes and rest now...
Mami e aici, mami te iubește… Mommy's here, Mommy loves you...
Aici ești în siguranță, aici veți rămâne: Here you are safe, here you shall stay...
În brațele mele, În brațele mele...: In my arms, in my arms...
Pentru totdeauna, pentru totdeauna...: Forever, Forever
Salcie: Wyllow (Translates like Willow)