Chapter 48: Don't You Worry
Bruce's POV
"She said she doesn't have a father?" I ask Alfred. We are both standing on opposite sides of Chris' bed. A few minutes ago I heard Alfred's call and rushed immediately into the kitchen to find Chris unconscious on the ground and Alfred extremely worried. I carried her up here to her room, took off her jacket, and tucked her into bed. She was burning when I carried her up, and even warmer when I put her in bed.
"Yes. And she sounded like she meant it, as if she genuinely thought she doesn't have a father."
So now she's losing older memories. But what's causing this? And when did this all start?
"She has an intense fever." I inquire from her condition.
"And a cold, sir. She was sniffling, and she sneezed."
"It's unlikely that she happened to catch both from her classmates, and that she has both a fever and a cold simultaneously."
"Yes. But what I'm worried about was her last comment. It's almost as if she-"
"Forgot." I complete his sentence. "Alfred. I think Chris is going through some memory loss. But I don't know what's causing it."
"Memory loss, sir...?" He ponders on it for a second. "Who else knows about it?"
"Tim. And I think everyone else is suspecting it. But Tim's the only one I've discussed it with."
"Well then, Master Bruce. It looks like Batman has to do some investigating."
I nod. "Alfred watch her. If you need anything, ask Tim." I begin to make my way out of the room.
"Master Bruce." I turn around. "What do I say to Dick and Damian?"
I look at him for a bit, thinking about whether they should be aware of the situation. They should. There's no use lying to them about this. She's their sister, and lying to them would just cause more problems.
"Tell them the truth. But try not to get them too worried. They've already got Jason to worry about."
"But you have to worry about Jason, too. You shouldn't have to carry all these burdens, Master Bruce."
I look at my friend a little longer, then as I turn away and walk out the door, I say, "I do have to. It's part of my job."
****Break****
Dick's POV
Ah kids...I miss being a kid, but I was never like these kids. These kids live pretty normal lives: a mom and a dad with everyday jobs, a public education, friends who aren't in the circus...
But I loved the circus life, and I would never have given it up for the life of the average kid.
I also miss the kid that Jason was...even though he was rowdy and untrustworthy. I didn't like him back then, but now that I'm looking back on it, the times that I was with him are memories that I cherish, probably more than he cherishes them.
Oh Jason...
It's a good thing I took a walk. I needed to get myself together, to gain my composure so I don't break down just thinking about Jason. But now I think I'm fine. The playing kids helped, the sound of traffic helped, my surroundings of tall buildings and big trees helped...
Who doesn't love a day in the park? Even if it is in the middle of a bustling city.
I keep walking along the path, whistling a soft little tune only loud enough for myself to hear. At least, thanks to this walk, things feel like they're getting better.
I feel a vibration in my pocket and pull out my phone. Tim's calling. I answer the call and put the phone to my ear.
"Hey Timmy what's up?"
"Nothing good." Great.
"What is it?"
"Chris...she's unconscious right now and burning up pretty quickly."
Questions later. "On my way."
****Break****
I burst open the doors, run into the house, go up the stairs 4 steps at a time, and burst into Chris' room with the same amount of force as earlier. Alfred's being the doctor and dabbing her forehead with a wet cloth and Tim is sitting at the desk chair. Tim quickly stands up, being careful not to knock over the chair, and Alfred moves to the other side of the bed so he can face me while still keeping Chris as cool as he can.
My brain only quickly acknowledges the other two occupants of the room and focuses straight on the ill figure in the bed.
"Oh my god..." I mutter, emotions suddenly flooding my thoughts: fear, worry, pain...
I run to her bedside and by routine check her pulse, even though there probably is no reason to. Her pulse is faint but still at a steady rate. I scan her face. All I can see is tension in her face and sweat on her forehead. I take her smaller-than-average hand into my own-immediately feeling her burning body temperature-and squeeze it tight, as if trying to prevent her from getting away.
"What happened?" I say, not taking my eyes off her.
Alfred's the one to speak. "She fainted when she came down from her room. Said she was coughing, sneezing, sniffling...that she had forgotten who Master Bruce was."
I force myself to look away from my sister at hearing that last part. "What?"
Alfred just lowers his head and keeps attending to Chris, but Tim picks up the conversation. "She's been forgetting things for a while now. Before it was just tiny things, but now it's bigger, more important things...Dick she might forget who you are, who all of us are..."
No...she would never forget me, her bubbly, protective big brother who cares about her a little too much...she wouldn't...
"I know it's gonna be hard when she wakes up, but...we have to prepare for the worst..."
I let that sentence go in one ear and out the other. I'm already losing Jason, I can't lose Chris, too. I won't let that happen. I won't lose anyone. I promise.
"Why is she losing her memory?"
"We don't know. But Bruce is working on it."
"Then I hope he finds out soon." I close my eyes and squeeze her hand tighter, remembering all the times I held her hand this tight...all the times she was in danger, or even just when I was pulling her behind me. I guess I've always been protective and afraid of losing her, even in the not-so-dangerous times...but I just never wanted to let go.
So I won't.
She won't get away.
Jason won't get away.
No one else in this family will get away.
I open my eyes and look at Tim, who is sitting in the desk chair watching Chris from a distance, a straight face on. He's showing no signs of worry...which of course, is the most worrying thing for me.
"Hey Timmy?"
He looks at me, then nods, knowing what I want. Both of us get up and walk into the hallway, me shutting the door behind us.
I look down at him, scanning his face, as he avoids eye contact with me. His arms are loosely crossed, and he's a little hunched over. Earlier his face showed just a studying look, but now I can see some sadness in his eyes. In the room, he was acting tougher, as if he didn't care too much, but now that I've pulled him out...he's released some of the tough act, but he's still trying to be strong...
"Tim." I say sternly, but with a hint of concern in my voice.
"Dick, I'm okay. Don't worry."
I frown. "Our sister is stuck in a bed with a condition no one knows the cause of. No one would be okay."
"But I'm trying to seem okay." At least he used the word trying or else that would mean something a little worse.
"You don't have to be emotionless at home, only in the field. There's no need to be a Bruce."
"I know, but..." He looks up at me. "I'm trying to stay strong for her. So when she wakes she doesn't see me sad. I don't want her to see me broken down and weak. I want to be happy for her. Because if all of us are sad and depressed, then she'll be, too. And...it would hurt even more to see her sad."
I sigh. "But if you're not sad then she'll think something's wrong with you. It's okay to be sad. It's part of being worried for someone's safety, especially someone close to you. It shows that we care. Think of Bruce when he's not showing emotion. When he's like that and I need some affection, I always wish he would be more open and show how he feels because it seems like he doesn't care at all."
"But you know that's just how he is and he actually cares..." He defends.
"But I prefer to have him outright show me instead of having to convince myself. And I think when Chris wakes she'll want to know that people care."
He looks down in thought for a while, then looks up at me with blue eyes that are sadder than before. "But she doesn't know that I'm not sad right now. I can just be sad for her when she's conscious."
"Tim, you know that's not the same thing. I think there's another reason to why you're acting this way."
He unfolds his arms. "Do you ever think that you're the cause of someone's pain?"
"Of course. All the time. It kind of comes with this business."
"Well you don't show it, and I admire you for your strength. But I'm not as strong as you, and I'm trying the best I can to both keep those thoughts inside and not have those thoughts in the first place. But I can't help but think that a part of this is my fault. If I had realized earlier what was going on then maybe this problem would already be solved and Chris wouldn't be sick in bed, forgetting everything around her..."
I would've interrupted him earlier, already knowing where he was going with this, but I wanted him to finish...wanted him to get it all out. So when he finishes, I speak. "Tim. You can't blame yourself. None of this is your fault."
"I remember the day I first noticed something was wrong with her. She was just coughing, and I dismissed it because she wanted me to. I should've pressed...why did I leave it alone?" He says half to me, half to himself.
"Well, if you pressed then Chris would've gotten mad at you, and you probably didn't want her mad at you."
He nods, but with a faraway look in his eye, as if he's trying to believe me.
"But the two of us hang out a lot. You'd think I would've noticed things slowly getting worse and reported it..."
Before he can say more, I interrupt. "Tim. Stop it."
He looks up at me. I grab both of his shoulders and look deep into his eyes. "Stop finding ways to blame yourself. It's not helping you, and it's not helping Chris. I won't ever know the true reasons for why you, or anyone else, puts blame on themselves, but I will tell you this: no one likes to see you like this, especially Chris. The fact that you're blaming yourself shows you really care about her, but that's not how she'd want you to show you care. Don't think about what could've been done, think about what can be done right now. And right now, you can either figure out the source of Chris' problems or be by her side and keep her safe."
He stares into my eyes, and I see the awe and understanding in his eyes. Then I see a smile tug on his lips right before he hugs me.
"Thanks big brother."
I hug him back. "You're welcome."
He releases me. "I'll stay by her side until I'm needed. I want to be there when she wakes up."
"Okay. Now...does Damian know about this?"
"No. He won't pay attention if I'm the one telling him what's going on." He rolls his eyes, and I chuckle.
"I'll go find him and tell him. Now go inside and be with our sister."
He nods, opens the door, and steps back inside. Alfred is taking a break and sitting in the desk chair, so Tim takes up the job of keeping her cool with the towel. I look at Chris for a second to check if anything's different. Nothing is from what I can tell from here. So I look back at Tim. He has a concerned expression on his face, and by his barely-moving lips I can tell he's muttering something. To her or to himself, I don't know.
It's sweet how this family takes care of itself, even when it's having problems.
****Break****
Damian's POV
I jump the wall encompassing Wayne Manor and land on the familiar grass. I had given my phone the capability to turn on and off the wall security system so I can go out when the others in the large house make it seem like an intoxicating place. Father found out once, but even though he got mad he said I could keep the ability to manipulate the security on my phone for a few months. So I'm using those months of power as much as I can for my own musings outside the walls.
Titus is whimpering on the outside. He used to bark, but then I got mad at him a lot so he just quietly whimpers when he's on the other side of the wall with me (or without me, in this instance). I don't like it when my "family" knows when I go off to disappear.
I jump up and grab the edge of the wall, pulling myself up. I crouch on the wall and reach my arms down.
"Titus, jump!"
He jumps with his front legs up. He knows the drill; we've done this plenty of times. I pull him up a little bit before jumping back. Before landing, I let go of my dog's paws. I land in a crouched position, but quickly stand upright as Titus lands next to me. I look down at Titus.
"That was fun, right Titus?"
He barks in response. I bend down and rub his head, but simultaneously we sense a presence nearing and jerk our heads in the direction of the man headed our way.
"So I see you went out." Grayson says once he's in hearing range.
Even from here I can tell something's troubling him.
"What do you want?" I put enough urgency in my voice to show I am aware of his state.
Grayson puts his hands in his pockets. "To tell you that Chris is sick with something."
I raise an eyebrow. "Something? Father doesn't know what it is?" Obviously Father's the only one who would have any idea of the ailments Carter could have.
"No. But he's working on it. I'm going to help him after I fill you in."
Then fill me in
Grayson's not speaking. Guess he can't read my face.
I roll my eyes and sigh. "Fill me in."
Despite the irritation in his eyes at my demand, he speaks and tells me what he knows.
When he finishes, it's my turn to speak. "Thank you for informing me. You may go and work with Father."
He cocks an eyebrow. "No questions or concerns or anything?"
"No."
He frowns. "Well are you going to see her?"
"In a moment."
His frown doesn't waver, even after he says "Okay then see you later" and turns around, taking his phone out of his pocket (probably to call his girlfriend).
Once he is out of sight, I comprehend everything Grayson told me.
The cause of Carter's symptoms are unknown.
Her memory loss is worse.
She's losing her memory...
We don't know when exactly it started nor the cause...
Carter is sick.
My sister is sick...
And no one has any idea of the causes.
And she's unconscious.
In her bed...
She isn't getting any better...
For all we know...she's dying...
I set off in a sprint to the entrance of the manor.
****Break****
"Drake."
"Demon." I expected Pennyworth to be at her side as well, but I assume that he left to get an extra blanket considering the way Carter is shuddering in a cold sweat in her sleep.
Drake sits by her bed. It seems that my entrance had stopped him from his brooding. I stand on the other side of her bed, staring down at her with a small frown on my lips.
"She's sick." He says, matching my own monotonous tone.
"I know." I say, slightly irritated. "Grayson has informed me, no need to speak any further of her condition." My voice is monotone, betraying my true emotions as I eye my sister lying so still on the bed.
A silence hangs in the air as I am standing and staring down emotionless at her and Drake is on the seat eyeing me closely.
"No one knows what happened to her." He pries, sounding obviously irritated.
"I know."
"Bruce is trying to find out what happened to her."
"I know!" My eyes snap to him. "I already told you, I know!"
Drake stands up, almost as if he's trembling, his eyes full of anger. "You damn bastard!" He clenches his fists as he glares at me. "Our sister is sick! Possibly dying, and all you can say is 'I know!?' What the hell?! You don't even show any signs of worry or distress, do you even care!?"
I glare up at him. "Showing worry or distress won't change the fact that she could be dying." I seethe through clenched teeth. "It would only waste time to be sad or distressed."
"What the f*ck is wrong with you?"
"I am only applying what Father has taught me in these situations." I answer, my chest pounding and my mind filling with a violent static.
"Usually it's nice to care and be worried!"
"And why should I?" I clench my fists. "There's no point! She's dying. It's a fact. Worrying won't change that!"
Swiftly, he moves in front of me and pulls me up by my shirt. "IT DOESN'T HURT TO HAVE A HEART. Do you think Chris would like it if she woke up and learned that you hadn't cared at all that she was in a coma? That her so-called "brother" didn't give a damn? That he didn't care enough to even have a SAD LOOK IN HIS EYES?"
I don't bother trying to fight his grasp. "SHE KNOWS THAT THIS IS HOW FATHER TAUGHT US TO ACT, SHE WOULD UNDERSTAND. YOU COULD AT LEAST LISTEN TO FATHER'S WORDS AS WELL."
He drops me back onto the bed and glares down at me. I match his glare. "She would, but she would appreciate it more if she knew you cared. Do you really value your father over everything? Does Chris mean nothing to you?"
I abruptly stand up and move closer to his face, intensifying my glare. He doesn't react. "How. Dare. You. Accuse. Me. Of not caring about her."
His voice is calm when he responds, but the edge and hatred in his voice doesn't go unnoticed. "Maybe I wouldn't be accusing you if you were a good brother."
Then something hits me. But I can't show he actually made an impact on my thinking.
We glare at each other for a little longer, when a shuffle from behind me catches Drake's attention and returns him to his post on the other side of the bed. But I don't move. At all.
Because if I turn around and look at her, then I know I would never forgive myself.
I'll visit her later, when Drake is gone. If he'll ever leave her side.
I calmly walk out of her room and quickly head into my room, shutting the door behind me. Suddenly my eyes widen and I slowly collapse on the floor, my back to the door.
If you were a good brother...
I've always tried to be a good son, the best son...but have I ever tried to be a good brother?
These people...these adopted children of Father...I had...disliked them...
But things have changed.
I learned to...care for them...something that I never would have learned from Mother and the League of Shadows...
I have a long list of things I dislike about everyone in this household...Grayson's constant happiness...Todd's know-it-all attitude...Drake's idiocracy...Carter's personality...even Father's stubbornness sometimes irks me...
But...despite these things...I think...that I...possibly...love...them...
I would not be who I am right now if it weren't for them. Mother always taught me to be thankful and not selfish. And I am thankful for this...my...family...
Possibly showing that I care shows thankfulness.
Maybe...being sad...showing compassion...showing any kind of emotion...shows thankfulness in some way. Or else humans wouldn't be feeling those feelings at all.
Even when they're sad, they are at times thankful for something that could have caused that sadness.
In Carter's case, she's thankful for her television programs, even though they "play with her feels"...
Carter...
Her smile, her laugh, her odd personality...I'm thankful for my sister...and...
And if she...died...then...I probably...would be sad...
So sad that, possibly, I...would even show it...
Consequently, images start flashing in my mind: A heart monitor going flat. People mourning around a bed, but trying extremely hard not to show it. A coffin going into the ground. A lost future. Memories.
As soon as I feel something trickle down my cheek, I wipe it with my shirt. But then I feel something on my other cheek. And then again.
More images come to mind. More people dying. More people I know, I care about...I love.
More trickles.
"No no no no stop it get these images out of my head. Get out!" I yell only loud enough for myself to hear as I hold my head and shut my eyes.
But more trickles.
There become too many trickles and I bury my face in my hands and lap.
"Stop...please...I don't want to feel these things..."
But in the back of my mind, I know I do. Because sometimes I forget that I'm human. And I need reminders. And having feelings, showing them...reminds me that I am human. And sometimes that bottle of feelings just needs to open up. And it's okay.
I takes me a moment to calm down, but when I do, I feel the trickles lessen and lessen.
I take a deep breath and lean my head against the door, wiping my face with my shirt.
Drake was wrong. It does hurt to have a heart.
****Break****
Tim's POV
"It's good you are here, Master Tim." Alfred says once I enter the room. "I am needed in the cave. Would you please watch your sister until I get back? Then you can go prepare for patrol."
I nod. "Of course, Alfred." I approach the bed and Alfred hands me the towel he was holding. It's weird, monitoring Chris in this condition. It's almost like it's becoming a chore and we'll all start taking shifts.
I don't want it to become a chore. Or else this will become normal. I don't want the fact that my sister has an unknown ailment to become normal.
I hear Alfred's footsteps stop, but I don't turn around.
"She will wake up."
"What makes you so sure, Alfred?" In my voice, I feel doubt, pain, sadness, and curiosity.
"Because everyone who loves her is too stubborn to let her leave."
I chuckle.
"The hope we all have that she will wake up is what keeps everyone searching for answers. It's what keeps me in here taking care of Miss Christine. It's what keeps you constantly by her bedside. She's not leaving us anytime soon with a family like ours. So whatever happens, Master Tim, don't lose hope. Don't stop loving her, or her sickness won't be the only thing that lets her get away."
And with that, the wise man's footsteps fade away.
****Break****
I come out of the changing area in the cave in the jeans and shirt I was wearing before patrol. I walk over to the med bay, where Bruce and Dick are staring down at Jason while talking in hushed voices. They both got back from patrol earlier than I did, but they're both still in their work clothes. Bruce sees me coming and abruptly ends the conversation.
"Anything to report?" He asks.
"Not much. Another slow night."
He nods then turns to a monitor by Jason. Dick, however, keeps looking at me. "You should get some sleep, then. Goodnight Timmy."
I nod. "Goodnight."
As I make my way to the staircase I pass by Alfred. He glances at me for one second, and I immediately know that Chris is alone in the bedroom right now. Better go check on her.
I make my way up the stairs, through the manor, and to Chris' room. When I reach the hallway, I see Damian heading in the direction of his room, but from the opposite side of the hallway. He got back from patrol about two minutes before I did. I wonder where he's been during that time, if not in his room. As I pass by him, he avoids eye contact with me. Strange...not even a glance of distaste.
Behind me, I hear the closing of a door, signaling that I'm alone in the hallway. I keep walking until I reach Chris' door and open it. The room is dark, but the curtain is pulled back, letting in some moonlight. I approach the bed and sit on the edge of it.
I look at Chris' face. It feels like so long since I've seen the sparkle in her blue eyes, and I miss it. Part of me wants to believe that she's just asleep, and if I shake her a bit I'll get to see those blue eyes again. But the down-to-earth part of me knows that I'm just lying to myself.
I bring the back of my hand up to her forehead. She's still burning up, but she's not shivering too much right now, so that's good. I slowly pull my hand away and rest it on the bed next to my lap. I just keep looking at my sister, unsure of what to think or do next.
"Hey Chris." I say, disrupting the silence of the room. Alfred said I need to hope, and the best way for me to have hope is to think she can hear my words, my voice. That I can still talk to her like before. Well, almost like before. She did most of the talking since I never really know what to say.
"Umm...so how are you?"
No response, as expected.
"Yeah, me too." But of course I need to pretend there's an actual conversation going on.
"My night was pretty boring. I just had a minor jewelry heist, which I apprehended within a minute. There were only 2 guys, and they looked like they were new in town. You should've seen the looks on their faces when I came out of the shadows." I chuckle. "Almost as priceless as Detective Gordon's looks." My chuckle slowly dies when I don't get a chuckle in response.
"We don't know how long you're gonna be out, but it's probably going to overlap with school. People are going to wonder where you are, which of course means another cover. I wonder what it will be this time."
Instead of her lying down on her bed, eyes shut, I imagine Chris sitting criss-cross on the bed in front of me, listening intently.
"I bet your friends are gonna miss you, and you probably miss your friends. You guys seem to be really close, which is nice. My friends aren't really as close as you guys are. Which I guess is a good thing, since Bruce isn't a big fan of being close to people. I just hope that your friendships don't end up hurting you in the future."
Well, if they do, at least I have you guys, right?
Imagining her voice is helping.
I chuckle. "Yeah, we'll never let you down."
Something's bothering you.
"Obviously. You're, well...in a coma. And we don't know what's gonna happen to you."
There's something else, but you don't have to tell if you don't want to.
But Chris is just the kind of person who you can easily talk to.
"I...well...sometimes, I wonder...what happened to us?"
What are you talking about?
"When we were younger we used to play a lot together, but then as we grew older, we individually learned new things that changed us. We've become darker, more mature, and not the innocent kids we used to be. But together, growing up, we've sort of...I don't know...grown further apart. You probably don't understand what I'm talking about."
Well that's why you need to explain, dummy. I can hear her chuckle.
I chuckle in response. "I mean, when we were younger, we acted more like brother and sister: doing everything together, watching out for each other, teasing each other, etc. But somewhere along the way, I just stopped teasing you. You stopped wanting to run around the mansion playing hide and seek with me. We got our own friends, our own lives, and all of a sudden we just became...awkward old friends, I guess. Yeah, I know you're comfortable around me since we live in the same house and you would die here if we couldn't be comfortable together, but I know you well enough to know that sometimes you can pretend to be comfortable and super friendly around someone but really, deep down you feel the awkwardness. It's like there's some barrier between us. I don't really know how to describe the relationships of other siblings compared to ours, but the differences are obvious."
I understand what you mean, and I've noticed it, too...I think. So you're saying you miss, or more of want, to act less like friends and more like siblings?
"Yes. I think...that the thing keeping us from being close is that fact that, as awkward and weird as it sounds, people think...know...that we...sort of like each other."
I never said anything about liking you!
I imagine giving her a knowing face and her crossing her arms and pouting like a 7 year old.
Okay fine whatever moving on.
I chuckle. "We're not the only detectives, remember?"
She's gesturing with her arms like she always does. I know, I know! Moving on!
I laugh, and she laughs too. "You see this is what I mean. I feel like in that moment some of that awkwardness in the room just left."
She thinks for a sec. Okay, yeah I see what you're talking about. And yeah, that was a nice mini moment. We do need more of those... So how are we gonna do that?
"Ignoring what people think and ignoring our feelings, just like Bruce always says."
Okay gotcha. I'm gonna start treating you like a best friend, then. It's might be kind of like friend-zoning I guess, and it's gonna help me. You, my dear brother, are gonna have to get over your awkwardness. Because you are simply awkward around girls, especially girls you like. So if you get rid of the awkwardness around me, then people won't think you like me.
"Or I could just get over my awkwardness around all girls. Because if I'm not awkward around you that's still singling you out, making way for more rumors and suspicions. And I'm probably going to need help on getting over my shyness around girls from a girl I'm close to and not awkward around that I just happen to live with..."
I see her bouncing on the bed, causing me to bounce a little too from the bed's movement. Really?! She laughs in triumph. This is gonna be so much fun. I get to arrange your public embarrassment!
I laugh nervously. "Um no thanks. You're supposed to be a good sister."
But we're trying to be good siblings, and good siblings have sibling rivalry and bicker a lot and basically try to ruin each other's lives.
I give her a look. "You know what I mean." I laugh.
She laughs too. Alright alright I'll help you. But you gotta promise to watch 3 episodes of Supernatural with me.
I chuckle and put one hand over my heart and the other in the air. "I promise to watch 3 episodes of Supernatural with my insane sister."
As she's bouncing and squealing and talking endlessly about Supernatural, she slowly begins to fade and again I see the Chris of the present in bed, in a coma...
All the happiness and life that the Chris of my imagination had given me just by being present drains out of me, and I'm back in that sad, depressed state.
"Don't worry, Chris. We'll get to be brother and sister. Things will get better, and you'll be my little sis."
I yawn, and I feel myself drifting to sleep.
Chris...sis...Chris...sis...Chris...sis...Chris...is...Cris...is