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schizoauthoress_libraryTitle: Desperate Measures
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Spoilers: vague DCU timestamp, set after "Labyrinth" (1986)
Warnings: strained family dynamics, lots of crying (sorry)
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 836
Summary: Bruce wants Jason back. Dick blames himself for losing Jason. He's not the only one.
Desperate Measures
“Say it again.” Bruce growled.
Dick protested, “I’ve said it at least twenty times already, Bruce. It’s not WORKING.”
Bruce glared at Dick for several tense seconds. And then he said, cold and measured, “This. Is all. Your. Fault.” Ignoring how Dick flinched, as if Bruce had actually hit him, Bruce continued, “We’ll do this as many times as we need to, until this Goblin King LISTENS.”
Dick remained stubbornly silent for while. Then he sighed softly, and said by rote, “I wish the Goblin King would come take you away. Right now.”
Nothing happened. Just as before.
Bruce pushed his chair back from the desk, making a frustrated sound. Dick stared at his hands for a moment, then said softly, "Jason is younger than me. I was supposed to be watching him. Maybe it would work if you said it about me." Dick set his jaw and gritted out, "And you’d mean it, too. That probably helps.”
Bruce blinked, startled out of his hyperfocused state by Dick’s words. And he really LOOKED at Dick for the first time since being told that Jason was missing. Dick avoided his eyes, but Bruce could see the grief and the guilt etched into his expression, and he felt a pang of echoing guilt in his heart. He wasn’t helping anything this way.
Bruce reached for one of Dick’s hands, and took hold. Surprised by the move, Dick finally looked up into Bruce’s eyes.
“I wouldn’t mean it,” Bruce said, soft and hoarse. “I’d never mean it, Dick.”
“You should!” Dick shouted, trying to pull away from Bruce’s grip. Bruce tightened his hold for a moment, frightened all over again that Dick would leave. But then he let Dick pull his hand away. Dick repeated miserably, “You should. I lost Jason. It’s all my fault.”
“I was wrong to say that. It’s Jareth’s fault,” Bruce said firmly. He wished he could tell if Dick believed him. "We’ll try something else. I’m sorry."
Dick started to cry. Bruce moved around the desk and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s shoulders. He couldn’t blame Dick for this; Dick was blaming himself harshly enough. He didn’t want to lose another son.
****
Alfred hovered in the doorway silently, watching Bruce pace back and forth. He had barely slept for a week, chasing a million possibilities of getting Jason back from the Goblin King. None of his ideas, none of the leads from Zatanna and her ilk, none of most desperate attempts had borne fruit.
Alfred clutched the worn copy of ‘The Labyrinth’ in one hand. It had been his book as a child, read by his mother on the nights that young Alfred wouldn’t sleep. He’d read it to Bruce, and also to Dick and Jason. None of them had thought that it was anything but fiction. (Jason had even scoffed over some of the more predictable turns of the story, but he’d sat with Alfred in the library every Thursday night until they finished the book.)
If there was blame to be assigned, it was Alfred’s. He’d brought the accursed story into their lives. He let the book fall open against his palm, and paged back through it until he got to the page he wanted.
"'Say the right words,’ the goblins said, ‘and we’ll take the baby to Goblin City, and you will be free.’ But the girl knew the King of the Goblins would keep the baby in his castle forever and ever, and turn it into a goblin. So she suffered in silence. Until one night, when she was tired from doing housework and hurt by the harsh words of her stepmother, and she could no longer stand it.
"The child wailed and screamed for seemingly no reason, and the girl was at her wits end. 'Stop it, stop it!’ she shouted over the crying, 'I’ll say the words!’ But the moment she had made the threat, she told herself, 'No, I mustn’t…’ The child continued to scream, and the girl’s resolve wavered. 'I mustn’t say… I wish… I wish…’" Alfred recited. Despite his emotional turmoil, his voice remained steady and clear. Bruce’s pacing halted, and he turned to look at Alfred. Alfred met those confused blue eyes and intoned, "I wish the Goblin King would come take you away. Right now.”
He saw the understanding dawn on Bruce’s face – that perhaps the magic hadn’t worked because, unlike Alfred, Dick had never been Bruce’s caretaker. The two men waited, hardly daring to breathe, but there was no response. Alfred’s hands trembled, and he closed the book with a sharp snap. Bruce was already crossing the room as Alfred’s calm expression crumpled, as the tears began to fall.
Bruce pulled the little leatherbound volume out of Alfred’s grasp and set it aside on one of the end tables. He took hold of both of Alfred’s hands in his, and said in a shaking voice, “You could never mean it enough, Alfred. You love us too much.”
*-*-*-*-*
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Spoilers: vague DCU timestamp, set after "Labyrinth" (1986)
Warnings: strained family dynamics, lots of crying (sorry)
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 836
Summary: Bruce wants Jason back. Dick blames himself for losing Jason. He's not the only one.
Desperate Measures
“Say it again.” Bruce growled.
Dick protested, “I’ve said it at least twenty times already, Bruce. It’s not WORKING.”
Bruce glared at Dick for several tense seconds. And then he said, cold and measured, “This. Is all. Your. Fault.” Ignoring how Dick flinched, as if Bruce had actually hit him, Bruce continued, “We’ll do this as many times as we need to, until this Goblin King LISTENS.”
Dick remained stubbornly silent for while. Then he sighed softly, and said by rote, “I wish the Goblin King would come take you away. Right now.”
Nothing happened. Just as before.
Bruce pushed his chair back from the desk, making a frustrated sound. Dick stared at his hands for a moment, then said softly, "Jason is younger than me. I was supposed to be watching him. Maybe it would work if you said it about me." Dick set his jaw and gritted out, "And you’d mean it, too. That probably helps.”
Bruce blinked, startled out of his hyperfocused state by Dick’s words. And he really LOOKED at Dick for the first time since being told that Jason was missing. Dick avoided his eyes, but Bruce could see the grief and the guilt etched into his expression, and he felt a pang of echoing guilt in his heart. He wasn’t helping anything this way.
Bruce reached for one of Dick’s hands, and took hold. Surprised by the move, Dick finally looked up into Bruce’s eyes.
“I wouldn’t mean it,” Bruce said, soft and hoarse. “I’d never mean it, Dick.”
“You should!” Dick shouted, trying to pull away from Bruce’s grip. Bruce tightened his hold for a moment, frightened all over again that Dick would leave. But then he let Dick pull his hand away. Dick repeated miserably, “You should. I lost Jason. It’s all my fault.”
“I was wrong to say that. It’s Jareth’s fault,” Bruce said firmly. He wished he could tell if Dick believed him. "We’ll try something else. I’m sorry."
Dick started to cry. Bruce moved around the desk and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s shoulders. He couldn’t blame Dick for this; Dick was blaming himself harshly enough. He didn’t want to lose another son.
****
Alfred hovered in the doorway silently, watching Bruce pace back and forth. He had barely slept for a week, chasing a million possibilities of getting Jason back from the Goblin King. None of his ideas, none of the leads from Zatanna and her ilk, none of most desperate attempts had borne fruit.
Alfred clutched the worn copy of ‘The Labyrinth’ in one hand. It had been his book as a child, read by his mother on the nights that young Alfred wouldn’t sleep. He’d read it to Bruce, and also to Dick and Jason. None of them had thought that it was anything but fiction. (Jason had even scoffed over some of the more predictable turns of the story, but he’d sat with Alfred in the library every Thursday night until they finished the book.)
If there was blame to be assigned, it was Alfred’s. He’d brought the accursed story into their lives. He let the book fall open against his palm, and paged back through it until he got to the page he wanted.
"'Say the right words,’ the goblins said, ‘and we’ll take the baby to Goblin City, and you will be free.’ But the girl knew the King of the Goblins would keep the baby in his castle forever and ever, and turn it into a goblin. So she suffered in silence. Until one night, when she was tired from doing housework and hurt by the harsh words of her stepmother, and she could no longer stand it.
"The child wailed and screamed for seemingly no reason, and the girl was at her wits end. 'Stop it, stop it!’ she shouted over the crying, 'I’ll say the words!’ But the moment she had made the threat, she told herself, 'No, I mustn’t…’ The child continued to scream, and the girl’s resolve wavered. 'I mustn’t say… I wish… I wish…’" Alfred recited. Despite his emotional turmoil, his voice remained steady and clear. Bruce’s pacing halted, and he turned to look at Alfred. Alfred met those confused blue eyes and intoned, "I wish the Goblin King would come take you away. Right now.”
He saw the understanding dawn on Bruce’s face – that perhaps the magic hadn’t worked because, unlike Alfred, Dick had never been Bruce’s caretaker. The two men waited, hardly daring to breathe, but there was no response. Alfred’s hands trembled, and he closed the book with a sharp snap. Bruce was already crossing the room as Alfred’s calm expression crumpled, as the tears began to fall.
Bruce pulled the little leatherbound volume out of Alfred’s grasp and set it aside on one of the end tables. He took hold of both of Alfred’s hands in his, and said in a shaking voice, “You could never mean it enough, Alfred. You love us too much.”
*-*-*-*-*
