Chapter Text
The children were certainly up to something. Alfred knew it beyond any doubt. They were getting along very well since Colin’s return, which in and of itself wasn’t what tipped him off. Miss Gordon had acted strange a few nights ago too, cutting off a call with Bruce in the Cave all of a sudden. When she called back she sounded much like she had as a young girl in her Batgirl suit, trying not to make eye contact as she denied stuffing trash down the back of Dick’s Robin suit. Bruce was in a very healthy place after speaking with Miss Kyle, who had woken up just last week, and didn’t question it. If there was any reason for them to be worried Barabara wouldn’t hide it from them, so they respected her privacy and didn’t pry. Yet these things combined made the hard earned senses of decades raising children sound off in Alfred’s mind.
If anything it was Jason staying within the Manor as long as he had that made Alfred wonder, not that he wasn’t happy to have the young man back at home. He’d been playing the part of the obnoxious older brother to the younger ones, and when that inevitably led to them leaving him to his own devices, Jason either had the expression on his face that Alfred missed from his youth, the one from when he was Robin and thinking over a case, or he was messaging his soulmate where no one could see his screen. No one, that is, except for Alfred.
Now they sat out on the veranda, he and Jason, with a spot of tea and cakes prepared for them. A habit from when Jason was finally comfortable living in the Manor that Alfred was more than pleased to continue. Especially when Jason made happy noises as he enjoyed the mini custard cakes Alfred had made. “I’m telling you Al, I just can’t get these things to come out like you do.”
“Are you overmixing? You did have that habit when you were younger.” Alfred smiled as he dropped a sugar cube into each of their cups.
“I swear I’m not! I got other ways to get my aggression out than beating up dough.” The laugh he shared with Alfred was genuine, and warmed his heart. “Mm! I think I’m just too American to pull these off.”
“Nonsense. If an Englishman can learn to do it, you certainly can.” He hid his smile in the rim of his cup, not that it worked.
Jason opened his mouth to retort when his phone chimed by his arm, the screen lighting up with a message. He looked at it but made no move to lift it.
“Go on now, lad. No need to leave him waiting on my part.”
“I’ll just…tell him he’s interrupting an important meeting. Which he is. ” The quickness in which he picked up the phone and replied spoke of his true feelings. As did the smile.
“It’s nice to see you so happy.” Alfred truly meant it. Even without being introduced, he approved of Jason’s soulmate on that fact alone.
Jason rolled his eyes good naturedly before putting the phone on the table again, screen side down. “So…I’m gonna have to be the one to ask you a question you don’t wanna answer.”
“Oh?” Alfred lifted his cup again.
“...what’s up with you and the Gingersnap?”
Finishing his tea, Alfred lifted the pot and began to pour a second. “I can’t say I know what you’re referring to.”
Jason’s frown pulled at one side of his mouth. “C’mon Al, it’s me. I know you. Somebody’s injured in this house and you aren’t using every spare second trying to crawl up their–” He cut himself off when Alfred raised a warning eyebrow. Clearing his throat, Jason rephrased. “All I’m saying is, you hover. You’ve always hovered. Remember that time I had chickenpox?”
“Mm. You weren’t vaccinated. Master Bruce and I hadn’t known.” Poor boy had been miserable for a week and a half. They’d used up so much calamine lotion trying to soothe the itching.
“I know. Still wonder if they couldn’t afford it or were just too lazy, but whatever. Point is you watched me like a fricken hawk the entire time. Didn’t even let me use the bathroom too long without threatening me not to scratch or else.”
“I would say the effort was well spent. You haven’t a single scar from those pox, and I’ll take full credit for it.”
“Hey, you deserve it.” Jason took a long drink to finish his cup of tea, and before Alfred could lift the pot to try to pour him another Jason put his hand on top of it. “Alfred…Colin’s noticed. Okay? He’s noticed. Dick wouldn’t shut up about how sweet it was that you two were almost attached at the hip since the first week the kid’s been here. But since we moved him up from the Cave you’ve just…kept your distance. And it’s screwing with the kid’s head.”
Sighing, Alfred lowered his hand to the table. It wasn’t often that he was the one the children were mad at. They’d pout when he enforced Bruce’s rules, groan at his sarcasm, even feared his very well controlled and rare anger. Seeing the disapproval Jason was looking at him with now cut deep. “I would never hurt any of you intentionally. However…I will admit that I have… struggled with accepting that Master Bruce doesn’t think punishing him for running away is needed. It isn’t what I did when he was a boy, or when you were younger.”
Jason put his hand down, too. “Hey, I get it. You guys grounded me for weeks whenever I ran away. I was too young and buttheaded to understand how much I appreciate it now. And I gave Colin the same advice you gave me, about not making running a habit.”
“Good.” Alfred nodded.
“But you can’t keep doing this. You know what Colin asked me yesterday night when we were hanging out? He asked if you don’t like him anymore. He thinks you’re mad at him because he hit Damian.”
“That’s–”
“The kid’s gonna beat himself up about that forever, even though the little demon forgave him. The fosters he had used to get mad at him for, fuckin’ I don’t know, breathing too loud or some other fucked up shit. Do you think he understands that him losing his cool one time isn’t a big deal? Colin’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, and as far as he can tell, you’re the one holding the damn shoe. ” Jason sat back, slouching into his chair. “Look, no judgment but…your old tactic of “if we don’t talk about it, it’ll be okay” is not gonna fly here. Maybe that worked for you. Sure as shit didn’t work for Bruce.” He held up his hands. “I’m sorry, but it didn’t. At least Bruce is acting like he took some kind of mental laxative to start getting over his emotional constipation.”
When Jason had to take a breath, Alfred reached across the table to put a hand on the young man’s arm. “Jason. I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused Colin. You are right that it is wrong of me to keep the boy at arm’s length. I don’t want him to mentally torture himself attempting to keep me, or any of us, happy. Yet I truly believe he needs to know what his running away did to the family.”
Jason’s expression was full of sympathy. “Then just tell him that. Tell him you don’t hate him, tell him how you feel. He’s not me, Al. I know me and Colin–”
“Colin and I. ” Alfred corrected him from habit.
“Colin and I ,” Jason repeated, not without a bit of sass, “have a lot in common. But unlike me he’s not gonna walk away because he gets too in his feelings. If you talk to him he’ll listen to you, hear you out.” Hesitating for a moment, he continued. “I know you’ve had to be strong for a long time. For your parents, for Bruce, for us. But you’re not a robot. You’re family. If Colin can be his real self while he’s here, if we all can, why can’t you?”
If he were to answer that question fully it would require going over a lot of his personal history. Much too much of it, as far as Alfred was concerned. His struggle with his father’s drinking and his mother’s distance was a story meant for another time. At the heart of all that Jason had just told him, was a softhearted boy named Colin, who needed him. He could set aside his personal issues for Colin, if it meant reassuring the newest addition to their family.
“...I will speak to Colin. As soon as there’s a moment to.”
For a moment Jason looked doubtful. It was gone as soon as it appeared. “I think that’ll help a lot, Al.”
Alfred hadn’t chosen a specific day or time for that talk, and he found himself surprised that it happened later that same afternoon. After ensuring that everyone had taken the time for lunch, he began collecting laundry from where the chute deposited them in the laundry room. It required little thought to separate, organize, and begin the wash cycle. He could have done it in his sleep. By the time he’d returned the dry cleaned items he’d picked up from the city to each room they belonged in, it was time to dry them. Taking off his jacket and vest, and rolling up his sleeves, he set himself to the task. While the dryer worked, Alfred ironed what needed it, hanging them up on the rack on one side of the room. The repetitive work was relaxing, even though Alfred’s mind had wandered more than once on how to begin the conversation with Colin.
That was when fate, or rather the boys, took the matter into their own hands. As Alfred set the basket full of still warm clothes from the dryer on the long table in the room to begin folding them, he heard a pair of voices speaking as they got closer.
“You’re doing very well, Beloved. Much steadier today than yesterday.”
“You’ve said that everyday , Dames.” Colin’s voice was patient and affectionate.
“It’s the truth.” The two came into view then from the open door of the laundry room. Damian’s left hand held Colin’s left while the right rested on the small of the other boy’s back. Though he was ready to support him if need be, he let Colin carry his own weight. Just as Alfred instructed him to do when they started having Colin using his legs again.
Alfred was pleased to see that Colin was indeed walking at a steady, if slower, pace. The red head’s other hand rested lightly on Titus’ back as the Great Dane walked alongside them. The poor pup had been rather clingy to both of the boys since Colin’s return, perhaps worried that something would happen if he wasn’t right next to them at all times.
Looking up, Colin’s eyes met Alfred’s. It pained him to see the hesitancy in those green orbs, knowing they were usually trusting and open. “Hi Alfred.”
“Hello Master Colin. Master Damian.” He nodded to them both. “Keeping up with your daily exercises?”
“Mhm.” Colin nodded, “I feel more like me.”
Purposefully softening his face, Alfred smiled. “I’m very glad.”
“Doing a bit of laundering, Pennyworth?” Damian asked. Though not as strong, he also gave Alfred a similar look to the one Jason had given him. Of course kindhearted Damian would pick up on his soulmate’s distress, too. Perhaps some homemade halva would earn him some forgiveness from the two former League members.
“Yes, though it’s only a bit of folding. Nothing terribly exciting.” Saying that, Alfred lifted what he discovered was one of Tim’s graphic t-shirts from the basket and folded it in seconds. One tends to get good at that after a few decades.
“...hey Damian.” Colin turned to his soulmate. “Would you take Titus for…a walk?”
The effect was instantaneous. Titus’s tail began to wag with full force, thumping against the wall each time it went near it. Making eager little huffing noises, he nuzzled against first Colin and then Damian in turn, moments away from letting out an excited bark.
“Really Colin? The W word? You could have just asked.” Setting a hand on his hip, Damian looked both amused and exasperated.
“Please, honey?” Colin turned his soft eyes on Damian. Which seemed to work…
…except for the face the other boy made at the name. “Veto.”
“I’ll find the right one eventually.” Colin said with a laugh. “While I’m doing that, I’ll keep Alfred company.” He walked into the laundry room and found the tall stool near the table Alfred was working at. Both he and Damian watched carefully as Colin climbed onto it. Though he managed, he did let out a breath of relief once he was sitting down.
“You’re sure you’ll be alright?” At Colin’s look, Damian backed out of the room. “Very well.” With that, he and Titus took their leave.
A quiet minute passed before Alfred spoke. “Now that your soulmate isn’t hovering, how do you really feel?”
“My legs hurt.” Colin admitted. “We walked all the way from my room to here without stopping. But I’m breathing okay.”
“Good. Good.” As he spoke he continued to fold, making separate stacks for each resident of the house. The next item he pulled from the basket being a pair of Colin’s pants. Alfred couldn’t help thinking to himself that they were so much smaller than the older members of the house. Starting a new stack for him, Alfred looked at Colin sitting with his head down, unable to look at him. The boy was wearing pajamas again today, this time in a set with characters that Alfred recognized from that video game Tim liked. It seemed the teen had joined in on pampering their youngest with clothes just like the others.
“Alfred…can you please tell me why you’re mad at me? I can’t take it anymore…” He looked up, meeting his eyes and putting on a brave face. “If you wanna yell, you can. I know I did something wrong, I just wanna know which one. Then I won’t do it again.”
That should have been enough. It should have been, but it wasn’t. “Tell me, Master Colin, would you not do it again because you’re afraid of upsetting me, or would you not do it because it would be wrong to do?”
Blinking, Colin looked confused. “Isn’t it the same thing?”
“No lad, it isn’t.” He started folding again. “If I told you that wearing purple was wrong, would that be reason enough for you to never wear purple again?”
“...no…? I don’t want you to be upset, but I like purple sometimes.”
Alfred nodded, not looking up from his work. “If I told you to stop throwing rocks because someone could get hurt, would you never throw them again no matter the circumstance?” Colin opened his mouth, but Alfred spoke before him. “ Ever again. ”
Frowning, Colin thought for a moment. “I don’t think I’d never do it again. ‘Cause…maybe there would be a good reason. Like…if someone was going to get hurt by somebody else, and me throwing a rock at that person made them stop. Or if there was a fire, and throwing a rock broke open the window and let the smoke get out so the people inside could see and escape.” Colin turned on the stool to face Alfred more directly. “...I’m confused, Alfred.”
Sighing, Alfred set aside a sock missing its pair. One of Dick’s perhaps, judging by the loud pattern. “I am of the opinion…that we should not cease doing something merely because it would upset someone else. However, if the thing we have done has caused harm, either physically or emotionally, that would be the one and only difference.” The last thing in the basket was a large sheet, tangled up within itself, the other clothing pulled free of it. Alfred hefted the bundle onto the table, knowing he would have to work to find its ends. “...why did you run away from the Manor? Why didn’t you speak to me or Master Bruce?”
From the corner of his eye, he saw the look of guilt on Colin’s face. “I…I didn’t really think about it when I did it. I just felt like…I had to leave. Jason said that…I wanted Damian to chase me. I didn’t realize he was right until he said it…”
Using both hands, Alfred started turning over the pile the sheet made. “You could have left at any time. We would have taken you to Master Jason’s hideout, or Master Dick’s apartment. There were other choices than stealing away into the night on your own. Master Damian would have done anything to earn your forgiveness, and in the meanwhile you could have been somewhere safe.”
“I know.” Colin’s hands gripped the edge of the table. “It was stupid–”
“ Yes it was. ” Alfred agreed, pulling at the sheet with less care. He saw Colin pause at that, unused to someone not reassuring him immediately. “It was horribly stupid. Everything could have gone wrong that night. You could have broken your legs jumping from the window, you could have injured yourself climbing through the gate, and if Jason hadn’t found you when he did–” Damn this thing! Where was the bloody end of this sheet?! “It isn’t your fault that a disgusting predator was driving that car, nor was it your fault that Scarecrow’s men were lying in wait, and none of what you went through is your fault. But putting yourself in harm’s way because it never occurred to you that you would be missed is very, very stupid. And you are not, stupid. ” Giving up, Alfred put his hands on either side of the sheet. “...if we had lost you…”
Colin made an attempt to speak, but it was clear there was a lump in his throat. “Alfred…” he tried to say more, but he wasn’t able to.
When Colin couldn’t continue, Alfred made an effort not to raise his voice again when he spoke. “You frightened them, all of them, by running away. Every moment we didn’t know where you were was another moment for terrible thoughts to run through our heads. Did that thought cross your mind? Didn’t you wonder how we would feel if we lost you? The tears that would be shed.” He shook his head. “I could never heal the pain that would have brought…I wouldn’t have had the strength to try. Not because I did not care.” Here he set his hand on the small pile of clothing that were Jason’s, brought to the Manor by the others when it was clear he would be staying for some time. “But because I wouldn’t have had the strength to choose another burial outfit…”
Small sniffles made him look at Colin. The boy had a few tears fall along his cheeks, now far less hollow than the night he’d been returned. Each blink sent another one trailing down. “Y-You aren’t just talking ‘bout the others. You w-woulda been sad, too…right?”
Heart hurting for Colin, Alfred moved to stand in front of him. “Every single day I would have missed you, Colin. Every single day.” He took his handkerchief from his pocket, unfolding it and offering it to the boy.
Colin buried his face in it, hiccupping quietly. His tiny hands shook.
“Oh lad…forgive me for keeping my distance from you. It wasn’t meant to be a punishment.” When the boy leaned forward to rest his covered face against Alfred’s shirt, he stroked his red hair gently. “I tried to think of a way to explain this all to you without going against the Master’s wishes. You…” Exhaling, he tried again. “I wish you valued yourself as highly as we do. I wish you to understand that you, Colin, are deeply loved. You ran hoping to be followed, hoping that despite your supposed flaws that one of us at least would still make an effort for you even if you didn’t deserve it. What you need to remember is that isn’t how we think of you. We would give you all that we have. Why? Because you are a wonderful, incredible boy, and we feel privileged to know you.”
One of Colin’s arms grabbed tightly around his waist.
“When you left, it was as though you were overlooking our care for you. That you believed us to be heartless, or careless. That…that hurt, Colin.”
“I-I’m sor-ry!” Colin sobbed. “I di-dn’t mea-n to hur-t you!”
“I know, ducky. But you see, that is why you needed to know. Each time you think little of yourself, you think little of us, who care about you.” Memories came to mind, days and nights spent without allowing himself to connect to those around him. The teenage boys he fought alongside in the war, the playing children he walked past in the park, the adults who looked suspiciously at him after the death of the Master and Madam. “It is so frighteningly easy to make it so we are alone in this world. By our own choices no less. I don’t want that for you. Look around and you’ll see those who care, in ways big and small. You have them, and you have me, the ever faithful butler.”
Colin’s head popped up, and surprisingly his eyes looked at him reproachfully beneath wet lashes. He sniffled enough to steady his voice. “Family first, butler last. Got it?”
Shock hit Alfred’s chest like a bullet. Another boy, another time flashed before his eyes. Dressed in black beside two fresh graves, black eyes that would become ice blue one day looked up at him much the same way. A coincidence…but a damn effective one.
Alfred pressed the heel of his palm against one eye and then the other. He accepted the handkerchief held up to him, quickly doing away with any evidence of the walls this brilliant child had managed to pull down. Though down they would stay. He wiped both of their faces in turn, glad to see a small smile beginning to lift the corners of Colin’s mouth.
“I’m sorry, Alfred.” Colin said.
“I accept your apology.” Alfred answered.
In an effort to move forward, and return to normalcy, Alfred lifted the sheet from the laundry table. With a light shake, the ends came loose. He offered two to Colin and took the other side in his own hands. Together, they folded the sheet into a neat square, and placed it down besides the other items on the table.
When Damian had returned from his walk with Titus, he leaned around the edge of the doorway to look in at them. Colin had moved the stool he sat on to be in front of the table, and asked Alfred to teach him the right way to fold. He picked it up quickly enough, and when his soulmate returned it was to find him repeating the steps under his breath as he folded one piece of clothing after another next to Alfred. Alfred was the only one to notice Damian, and returned the pleased look the young master gave him.
-----
Father invited Sister Agnes to dinner. Which, judging by the shocked looks from his siblings and his soulmate, was something that none of them was aware of. Grayson had even done a quick headcount after they’d heard the front door being opened from where they all had been in the kitchen, chatting and trying not to be underfoot of Pennyworth and Todd as they cooked. As far as any of them knew, tonight was meant to have a normal meal before most of them would go out on patrol, and aside from Gordon all were present. So when Father escorted the Sister into the kitchen, they all found themselves in a state of surprise.
All but Pennyworth, who answered Todd’s look with a whispered, “You lot aren’t the only ones who can be up to something.” Damian only heard it because he’d been next to Todd, attempting to wrestle one of those juice pouches out of his hand for Colin when their guest walked in.
“Sister Agnes!” Colin recovered quickly, genuinely happy to see her. He got up from the kitchen table, where he, Cassandra, Grayson, and Drake were playing one of Drake’s card games. He had a thin blanket around his shoulders over his pajamas, but much of the paleness had left his face and he was starting to fill out. Throwing his arms around her, Colin looked up with a smile. “How come you’re here?”
“Bruce invited me over to surprise you.” She pulled him into a quick hug. “I do hope I won’t be putting you out, Alfred?”
“Not at all, Sister. I knew you were coming. I hope you like pot roast?”
While the adults got into a conversation about the evening’s meal, the rest of them exchanged looks and subtle hand movements.
“Did anyone else notice that?” Drake asked in sign.
“Yeah. She’s calling him Bruce again.” Grayson leaned back in his chair, the smile on his face meant to mask the way his mind was quickly looking over every detail.
“Something’s changed.” Cassandra made a move in the game, taking her turn.
Damian pulled the drink from Todd’s now relaxed hand, bringing it over to Colin’s spot at the table. “Father looks calm.” He added.
Todd’s footsteps followed him, and Damian looked back enough to see the man purposefully keeping his head down and not meeting the Sister’s eyes. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I’m not even supposed to be here! I’m dead, remember?”
“Calm down.” Grayson made a playful jab at Todd’s stomach, again acting like they weren’t saying anything to each other.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. What if she blabs?”
Damian looked at Todd over his shoulder. “Colin trusts him,” he signed, “so you should, too.”
Todd could only roll his eyes as Colin came over. His eyes had caught the subtle movements they each made, but sadly he didn’t know what they meant. When the Sister laughed at a, frankly terrible, joke Father made, he whispered, “Don’t leave me out, you guys. I don’t know how to do that yet!”
“We’ll teach you.” Drake whispered back, ruffling Colin’s hair. Then he spoke at a regular volume. “It’s your turn, bud.”
“Oh yeah!” Picking up his cards, he looked back at Sister Agnes. “I’m gonna finish playing with them. Is that okay?”
“Certainly, sweetheart. Don’t stop on my account.”
“Why don’t I show you to the dinner table, Sister? It’ll be ready anytime now, won’t it Alfred?” Father escorted her from the room as he spoke.
“Yes of course, right away, Sir.” They turned as a group to look at Pennyworth after they left. “You all know well enough that it’s rude to stare. If you have a question, simply ask it.”
“Okay.” Drake started. “Uh. What the heck??”
“The “heck” Master Tim, is that Master Bruce has brought a guest for dinner. It’s a rather simple concept.” The butler carefully opened the oven to pull out the pan with the steaming, fragrant roast and vegetables. Damian missed meat sometimes, when it smelled as good as that.
Todd hurried over to clear a spot on the counter for Pennyworth to put the pan down. “But Al, last time she was here she was ready to rip B’s head off.”
“Clearly, she’s forgiven him.” Pennyworth gestured until Todd put a carving knife in his hand. “While all of you have been conspiring, your father has been doing the same. Perhaps if you ask him, he’ll fill you in on the details. Now, with all respect intended, get out of my kitchen. I need to finish plating.”
Knowing better than to disobey that order, they packed up the game and exited to the dining room. They found Father at the head of the table, with Sister Agnes seated to his left. Damian guided Colin to sit in Damian’s usual spot at Father’s right, so that he could be across from her. He sat to Colin’s right, with Drake and then Todd after him. Cassandra sat besides the Sister, with Grayson at her other side.
Colin put his hand over Damian’s on the table. His forest green eyes looked at Damian calmly. He was as in the dark as the rest of them, but he wasn’t allowing himself to panic without knowing all the facts. How far he’s come. Damian resisted the urge to kiss the back of his hand.
“This is so lovely.” The Sister commented, looking along the table. “You must feel so blessed Bruce, to have such a full table for meals.”
“I do. It isn’t often that all of the children are home at the same time. Isn’t that right?” He looked down the table, past all of them but one.
From his place near the end of the table, Todd made a strangled noise. He also had his hand up covering his face since he’d sat down. “Look, don’t make a big deal about it, I’m barely even here.”
Father exchanged an amused look with the Sister. She knew something, there was no denying it. Perhaps even more than one thing. How much? Did Father tell her these things, or did she learn of them on her own? How? “Father?” Damian put his other hand over Colin’s. “Is there something you’d like to tell us?”
He was answered with a smile. Not a fake one, either. “I suppose I should stop torturing all of you. The Sister and I had a long talk last night, since she was kind enough to meet me while we were out on patrol.”
The atmosphere at the table shifted immediately. Damian watched his siblings sit up straighter in their seats. Even Todd, who lowered his hands and turned narrowed eyes toward that end of the table. This was Father, the man who wouldn’t reveal their secrets under the League’s worst torture. So if he was so casually using words they saved only for when they were behind masks, something had to be wrong. Damian waited, prepared to grab his soulmate and flee at the first signal from one of the others.
Colin’s voice cut through the tense silence. “Sister Agnes?” The way he looked at her across the table was different from every other time he’d interacted with her. Damian realized there was a protectiveness shining fiercely in those gorgeous eyes. It made Damian’s heart flip. “What do you know?”
The Sister remained calm. If anything, she looked…amused? “Now Colin, I can’t reveal anything told to me during confession. Those words are between Bruce and the Lord. If I were to say anything to anyone, I would lose my place in the church, and worst, the members of our faith would never trust me again.” Looking down the table again, she met the eyes of each person sitting. “You can calm yourselves, my dears. Knowing now what I do…I owe you all an apology. And my thanks many times over.”
Blinking in shock, Colin’s eyes became as wide as dinner plates. At the same time, the others caught on to what Sister Agnes was implying, and they also exchanged similar expressions with each other.
“You told her everything…” Todd breathed out in shock, staring at Father.
“Not everything, ” Father corrected. “Just enough for her to understand what happened to Colin. Of all people, she deserves to know.”
“Which is something I am more grateful for than words could ever say.” She turned to Colin, her face falling just a bit with deep sadness. “My sweet boy…I wish you hadn’t had to…” She covered her hand with her mouth, unable to finish the words.
Colin looked down at the place setting in front of him for a moment before meeting her eyes. “I’d like to talk to you about it sometime. But…I’m okay now. Thanks to Damian and B. Thanks to everyone.” A playful smile pulled at one side of his mouth. “I’m a lot stronger than I look.”
A sound between a laugh and a soft sob escaped her. But only once. After that, she lowered her hand. “I understand. You are strong, Colin. All of you are.” Her nurturing and kind gaze moved over them all. “I know you don’t do the things that you do for praise or reward. But as a citizen of Gotham, know that my prayers go with you each time any of you step onto the streets, whatever they may be worth to you. We would be lost without you.”
She was right, they didn’t do the job they did with any intention of being hailed as heroes. That was simply what happened because they stopped crime and rescued those in need. Each thank you said to them by those they helped was reward enough. Father told him they were fortunate to have a home so big, and never having to worry about money. For those who had life play them a cruel hand, both the criminals and the victims, Batman and those who fought alongside them were what kept the city from falling apart. Some nights it seemed so futile. Hearing just this one person tell them that their efforts were not in vain, that they were appreciated…it would be a lie to say it didn’t mean the world to them. The modest smiles on their faces said more than enough.
Pennyworth arrived soon after, placing the dishes he’d cooked on the table for them. Father asked Sister Agnes to say grace for them, which she did happily, blessing both the food and their family. Plates were emptied as bellies were filled, conversation moving to giving the Sister a proper introduction to each of them. She smiled as she came to know their other names, and agreed to Todd’s quiet request for her not to mention that she’s seen him at the Manor. “I have a feeling you have many stories to tell, Jason. Be sure to share them one day.” He, somewhat meekly, said he would think about it, which she accepted.
“Sister,” Damian asked, “did you have any idea about… us before Father told you?”
“Oh, not at all. I certainly believed he was up to something, though forgive me for assuming what you were up to was harmful in nature.” Father waved off her concern. “Although…there was one thing that made me wonder…”
“What was it?” Colin asked, leaning forward.
The Sister smiled at Damian. “It was Robin knowing I was a Sister, despite us supposedly never meeting before. After all, I wasn’t dressed in my habit because it was night time.”
“...” Damian lowered his hand into his head. “... rookie mistake! ”
Colin rubbed his arm while Drake reached over to ruffle his hair. If they didn’t have a guest he would have threatened the teen with his cutlery. He settled for stealing some of his potatoes when he was distracted.
“What a wonderful meal, Alfred. Simply fantastic!” Sister Agnes took Pennyworth’s hand in order to pat it affectionately. “You have a real gift.”
“Not at all, Sister. It is simply years of studying the marvelous cuisine this world has to offer.”
“Don’t be so modest, I’ve never had such an incredible meal.” She leaned in. “The children at St. Aden’s would adore it.”
“Are you asking me for the recipe?”
“I am.”
The ends of Pennyworth’s mustache twitched upwards. “As I’ll be driving you back into the city, I’d be happy to exchange it in return for a few of Colin’s favorites in return.”
“Done!” She happily brought her hands together over her chest.
Colin blushed lightly in his seat, smiling at them. “It’s nice to see them being friends.” He whispered in Damian’s ear. He silently agreed. Pennyworth needed more interactions with people who aren’t as…interesting as the family.
The tension and worry over how Sister Agnes would react now gone, each of Damian’s siblings bid the Sister goodbye after dinner and dessert. Todd lingered with Damian and Colin by the front door, watching the red head carefully for signs of fatigue. Colin had been out of bed for most of the day, the longest he’d been up and about since his kidnapping. It was Todd who noticed Colin start to sway on his feet, though Damian had seen it, too.
“Colin sweetheart, you need your rest. It won’t do you any good to wear yourself out.” Sister Agnes stroked Colin’s cheek while he was held up in Todd’s arms.
“I know. But I wanted to keep talking.” Colin had no right to pout in such an endearing way.
“I have to get back to St. Aden’s. I’m sure I’ll be returning to a circus, and I look forward to disbanding it.” The Sister joked, pressing a kiss to Colin’s brow. “Will you call me soon, so I can hear your voice?”
Nodding, Colin hugged around her shoulders. “Can I call everyday?”
“Every hour if you like.” With one more kiss, she finally pulled away. “Oh Jason, please take him up to bed, or else I’ll never leave.”
“You got it, Sis.” Todd said, adjusting his hold on Colin.
“Sister.” She corrected, with an almost threatening raise of her eyebrow.
“Sister.” Todd replied, slightly timid. “Have a safe trip back.” With that he stole away with Damian’s soulmate yet again. Damian wondered if he would get away with cutting holes in all of the man’s socks. Just to cause him some temporary frustration.
That left him with Father, Pennyworth, and Sister Agnes by the door. “When did you tell her exactly, Father? Was it last night?”
“Maybe. You’ll just have to wonder won’t you?” Father smirked at the look on Damian’s face at that answer.
Damian allowed Sister Agnes to kiss his forehead again. “I’ll leave Colin in your care, Damian. Be sure to look after him.”
“I will.” Damian smiled at her. “You may rest easy on that.” After she patted his cheek and began to pull away, a thought occurred to him and he found himself speaking. “Sister? May I ask you something?”
She looked surprised, but agreed. “Of course, dear. I’ll answer to the best of my ability.”
He didn’t have to do this. At least, not tonight. Damian could always ask her at a better time. Yet…yet he thought he might as well try. Giving a quick summary of his attempt to find Colin’s mother, he asked her, “Would you happen to know anything we don’t? Anything at all?”
He expected Sister Agnes to apologize and say no. Instead she paused for a moment, her hand to her cheek as she thought. “Well…”
“Sister?” Father asked, and Pennyworth looked equally interested though he said nothing.
“Now…I can’t say whether or not I’m correct about this, but I’ve thought about it for some time. The picture Colin has of his mother was something we’d held onto for a while before giving it to him about a year and half ago. I’ve looked at it many times myself. And I thought…well I thought the young woman in that picture reminds me quite a bit of a girl that used to stay at St. Aden’s years ago.” She shook her head. “It’s only a feeling, not something I could confirm. And I never brought it up around Colin because I didn’t want to get his hopes up.”
Damian held down the thrill pulsing through his blood. This was entirely new information, and as such it needed to be treated like any other piece of evidence they might find on the job. “How long ago was it that you knew this girl?”
“Oh at least fifteen years. I had just completed my time as a novice when she came in. Very sweet, and terribly timid. Afraid of her own shadow, poor thing. She’d been through so much when she came to us. She’d lost both of her parents, her grandparents had disowned them for being together out of bond, and her uncle had been adopted himself by the grandparents and couldn’t legally adopt her because he wasn’t blood related and only twenty one. It took two years after the grandparents disowned him as well before he was able to earn custody from the city. He worked so hard, had two jobs, and visited her nearly every other day. By the time she left, I like to think we were able to help her come out of her shell, and she wrote to us for several years after. Eventually we lost touch, and I heard that her uncle had been killed in the newspaper one day, but by then she was a legal adult and there wasn’t much I could do for her. I never managed to find her…”
Sister Agnes trailed off. “The picture of Colin’s mother was a bit out of focus, and her hair was dark and short, but I wonder sometimes if her hair was longer, and red, and if she wasn’t wearing makeup, if she wouldn’t look just like little Abby, freckles and all. Abby was eight when we took her in, and ten when she left. That would have her be about twenty two when Colin was born, if it was her.”
Damian had pulled his small notebook from his pocket, turning to a blank page and taking down the details as the Sister spoke them. “Abby. What was her last name?” If it was Wilkes the Sister would have made that connection years ago.
Brows pulling together, the Sister thought. ‘What was it…something Irish or Scottish…” She patted her cheek, as if trying to jog the name from her mind. “...O’Shay! That was it! Abigail O’Shay.” She spelled that name out for him, so his search could be more accurate. Looking unsure, she turned to Damian. “Now I can’t promise that she will be Colin’s mother for sure, or even if she’s still in Gotham. But if you do manage to find her…will you let me know?”
Taking the Sister’s hand in his, Damian gave it a soft squeeze. “Of course. Thank you, Sister.” Letting go he moved to the bottom step of the foyer. “Please excuse me, I have to look into this right away! Thank you for coming over! Get home safely!” With that he rushed up the stairs, intent to make it to the Cave as fast as his legs could carry him. He heard Father bid the Sister goodbye before following.
“Damian!” Father called, catching up to him once they reached his study. “Did you talk to Colin about this? Does he know you were looking before?”
“He does.” Damian let Father open the passage behind the grandfather clock, slipping around him once the door was open enough. “I told him he could decide whether he wanted to know or not, and I would respect that. I might as well rule out this possibility as soon as possible.” Something about this felt different. He didn’t have such a solid lead before, and if it led to answers…he had to find out. Colin deserved the chance to know if he wanted to.
Jumping down the last several steps into the Cave, Damian passed Grayson, Drake, and Cassandra, in the middle of getting prepared for patrol. Drake looked up, asking, “Where’s the fire?”
“No time! Father can explain!” He heard Father stop to do just that as Damian reached his work station.
Tossing down the notebook, Damian pulled his laptop open. He had to plug it in to charge, but otherwise it turned on with no trouble. He opened the program that allowed him access to Oracle’s search algorithm and input the name Abigail O’Shay. After a minute or two of loading, a handful of results popped up.
Over the course of the next hour Damian had found articles about her parents’ and uncle’s deaths, the file for her in St. Aden’s system, and a record of her time at Gotham Central High. No sign of her attending any college in the city. No sign of her at all after high school. It was as if she’d vanished. More likely, someone had removed any traces of her from what could be accessed publicly or privately. That was more than suspicious…
Searches for social media accounts under her name pulled up a handful of ones, but for different Abigail O’Shay’s. At least, on all modern social media sites. He happened upon a message board for Gotham Central that looked like it wasn’t used for current students, but by the students who used it when they were enrolled and kept returning to keep in touch with each other. Abigail had been active years ago, but nothing in the last twelve years. However her profile had an email with a username called “goth-in-gotham”, and Damian wondered if it was still active. It was small work to hack into it.
The junk folder had plenty in it, though it emptied every thirty days. No outgoing emails for years. But there was a reminder for a journaling website, asking for the email and password to be confirmed or updated. Curious, Damian updated the info and opened the site. The layout was very fitting of the 2010 era, which made it look old to him. He found Abigail’s journals, listed as private, so no one but her could see them. He began to read…
It seemed like typical venting about issues for a young woman. Damian learned she had been seeing a psychiatrist to try and deal with her issues before being dumped again. Apparently she had trauma from losing all of her family, which was understandable. She had much to say. Some of those things seemed too personal for Damian’s eyes, so he skipped through the entries until he found something worth reading.
Eyes moving across the screen slowly got wider and wider. Damian felt his mouth drop open. “No…oh no…”
“What’s wrong?” Grayson had been seated at his own work station, three desks over. He’d looked up at Damian’s words.
Snapping out of it, Damian turned in his seat to scan the Cave. He found Drake walking out of the changing area in his suit, cowl loose around his neck. “Drake! Where did you put the photos we confiscated from Crane?”
The teen came over. “I scanned them into the system, but I kept the physical ones right here.” He pulled the small box they’d moved the pictures into from a drawer in his own station. “Did you find the woman in the pictures? I thought you were looking for… oh no …” Horror appeared on Drake’s face.
Reaching into the box, Damian pulled out one of the photos of Crane’s experiment victim. Thankfully it wasn’t the improper one, though for decency’s sake they’d censored that once they got it back to the Cave. Opening the tab of Abigail’s high school profile, he held up the picture side by side with the one from her yearbook. They were a match, though the girl in one looked much brighter in the eyes than the woman in the other. To confirm what he already knew, Damian opened a window with the scanned copy he’d made of the picture of Colin and his mother months ago, putting it near the others. The only difference between Colin’s picture and the others was that the woman in it had cut off her shoulder length red hair and dyed it into a black bob.
“It’s her…Abigail O’Shay is the woman Crane had been experimenting on…and she’s…Colin’s mother…”