Family Ties : A Batfamily Story

Chapter 12

POV Robyn

I toss and turn in my bed tonight. No matter what I do I can't sleep. It's strange, this is the comfiest bed I have ever lay in, and by far the most expensive, but the feeling silk sheets against my skin makes me tense. The pillows under my head are nothing but a nonsense. In my wearily state, I through them to the floor, but the mattress is the same, like the bed is too warm. I toss the sheets off me. It doesn't help.

As I try once again to fall asleep, I hear the soft sound of humming. Opening my eyes to find where the noise is coming from, I see that a foot of water covers the floor. A light wind covers the surface in ripples while a distorted reflect of moonlight shine back at me. Sitting up I catch a whiff of salt and lavender. I dipped my toe in the water before pulling it out. The cold bits at my skin and sends shivers up my spine. Bracing myself this time, I step into the water.

As I lifted off my bed, the humming turned into singing. The song was a mellow tune sung sweetly and low. I turned to see where it was coming from. Connie drenched in pale moonlight. Her short blonde hair turned silver and skin pale as powder.

As tear filled my eyes she stops singing to stare me down. I fall to my knees in anguish as her face shows no sign of life. Her eyes hollow, skin unmoving. The white of her skin was truly the pale of the dead. Is this how she is now, a haunting figure?

"I'm sorry," I weep, I don't know why I said it.

It dawns on me I don't even know how she died. Who killed her and where. How long were they keeping it from me? God, I didn't even get to bury her. She was my mother and I didn't even get to say goodbye. I can't even remember the last thing I said to her. The last thing she said to me.

Slowly, Connie floats down to my level. I wince as her cold hand grabs my chin. She jerks my face close to hers. Her eyes are spiraling dark pools in a field of white grass. Her cracked lips part and she speaks.

"Why'd you have to go and get broken, now?" Her voice is lively and harsh. "Stop crying, it's not going to help."

"Broken?" I mumble.

"I'm not paying so you can break it again." She snaps.

My shoulder, that what she said when I broke it. The memory comes rushing back as I relive that night. I came home in tears as I held my arm limply. She yelled at me til morning. The next day she wrapped it in a plastic bag and made a sling out of an old pair of jeans.

"I'm sorry," I cry, tears pouring down my cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

I wake up shaking in a cold sweat. My body shakes as I dare to open my eyes. The dark room is how I left it. Shadows spill out on to the dry floor and silence bathes the manor. My limps shake with fear as I curl into a small ball. Whenever I had nightmares in Crime Alley, I just dealt with it. I would wrap myself in a blanket and wait for morning. Never, though have I felt so cold.

My eyes refuse to close. Fear of the room collapsing in on me prises them open. I stay like this, scared and awake for an hour before deciding to wander the halls. After five minutes of trailing down the corridor, I start to dreed not bring my blanket, but my fingers start to tremble again at the thought of going back for it. Even if I did turn back, I doubt I could find my way back. This house is still so unfamiliar to me, especially when drenched in the dark. For now, I'll aimlessly walk these halls, one step ahead of my dreams.

POV Jason

I always end up here, at the doorstep of Wayne Manor. It's not like I'm actively trying to come back, but my feet have a mind of their own. My fingers grace the front door as trace the slight curves in the wood. So often have I done this. God, why can't I just knock for once! Maybe even come at a decent hour instead of four in the morning?

Pulling my hand away from the door, I once again choose the path of a coward and sneak in through the kitchen window. My feet land softly on the ground as I slid through the window. Getting to the other side, I take off my helmet and place it roughly on a counter. Taking a peek inside the fridge, I see Alfred has left me some lasagna tonight. Reading the handwritten note left with it, I let a small smile play my lips.  Putting it in the microwave, I go to grab a fork.

As soon as I turn around, I see a small girl asleep in the back corner of the kitchen. Bewildered at first, I soon realize that it's Robyn, the newest orphan to join the family. She shivers and twitches as she mumbles something under her breath. She looks so cold with her bare arms covered in goosebumps. As I walk closer, I hear what she is actually saying.

She's weeping something of an apologize, her movement because violent as her nightmare rages on. I have dealt with many a-nightmares before, example Dick Grayson. And though those days of comforting him those early mornings are over for me, he still has his work cut out for him with the others. Knowing what to do, I take off my leather jacket and lay it over her tiny shoulders. Humming a soft tune to comfort her, I pick her up gently and walk her to Dick's room.

Letting myself into his familiar room, I see that things haven't changed much. Still, the old Robin Hood poster and pictures of fast cars and Hollywood stars litter his walls and the floor forever covered in lost articles of clothing.

Carefully laying Robyn down on the other side of the bed, I shake Dick awake. He drowsily opened one eye.

"Tim?" He asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Guess again," I sigh.

He throws the cover off him and wraps me in a hug. "Jason!" 

I push him off, "Yeah, yeah, you can hug me later."

"Why are you here?" He bounces back like a puppy, "It's the middle of the night?"

I avoid his question, "I found Robyn having a nightmare in the kitchen. Take care off her will you?"

He glances down at the girl before looking back at me. "You come to breakfast tomorrow."

"No," I start for the door.

"Jason, please," He begs, "We are your family, don't just turn your back on us. We love you, I love you."

I keep my eyes down and open the door, god, he's a sentimental sap. 

"You'll come home eventually!" He calls after me.

I just flip him off and return again to my lasagna.