Ficlet: (Un)Initiated | DCU | Alfred, Steph/Cass | PG-13 | 1/1
Title: (Un)Initiated
Fandom: DCU
Characters/Pairing: Alfed, Steph/Cass, (with Jason/Tim background)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 930
Prompt: For 50_darkfics: Poisonous; For hc_bingo: Driven to Insanity
Summary: Alfred makes a mistake, and that mistake demands explanations. (Or, let's sum up the series so far, bring the girls up to speed, yet continue to withhold vital information. >:D)
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything. The schmucks! *I* treat this family better than DC does, and they're getting their asses kicked in this series! O_o
Author's Notes: Seventeenth in the (Un)Familiar-verse; follows (Un)Tethered. This is the series that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friend... *headdesk* I also had wanted this part to have even more Alfred POV about the family's goings on, but alas, it wasn't meant to be.
(Un)Initiated
With both boys once again sleeping peacefully after another round of waking, their rousing quite an event, if he does say so himself, Alfred excuses himself to the kitchen to start dinner for the rest of the family, as the entire day has passed in tense apprehension while the boys slept.
Upon his appearance, however, he doesn't expect to find the girls seated at the kitchen table, sipping tea and talking in hushed tones, the baby cradled in her mother's arms taking a bottle.
Too late, Stephanie spies him where he's appeared next to the large island, and her brows lift upward in surprise as she draws in a gasp.
Perhaps the day has been longer and more exhausting that Alfred realized, for him to make such a serious mistake in appearing before them; he'd meant to slowly ease the girls into the truth of the family they'd become part of, gradually let them in on the secrets they'd yet to learn, make their transition easier. This is an outright breach of his own protocol, inexcusable, and he feels no fatigue, not really. He should've known the girls were in the kitchen.
“My apologies,” he says simply, composing himself from his minor moment of shock. “I didn't mean to disturb you.”
But Cassandra is already out of her seat, ready to defend them, and Alfred can't help a small sigh, deciding on a course of action quickly. He'll just have to tell them sooner rather than later.
“How did you do that?” Stephanie says, arms curling ever so slightly tighter around her daughter.
“I suppose an explanation is in order,” he admits quietly, stepping across the kitchen to take a seat across the table from her and gesturing to Cassandra to sit down. “There are a great many things you do not yet know about this family.”
One of Stephanie's brows lifts again. “No kidding. And?”
Alfred allows himself a small smile at her impatience. “I'm aware that you know of Master Timothy's condition,” he begins, treating the subject of Timothy's disease gently.
“He's a vampire,” Cassandra says, her hands folded on the table in front of her, possibly to keep herself from leaping up to defend her girls again.
“Yes,” Alfred nods. “Master Bruce found him only two months before he encountered Mistress Stephanie. The poor boy had only just been turned. But he isn't the only member of the household with an incurable condition. Master Jason is a werewolf.”
Stephanie's eyes widen again, before narrowing. “I knew something was up with him. That explains so much.”
“Master Bruce also took in Master Jason when he was just a boy of twelve. However, Jason could not control his metamorphosis until his eighteenth birthday.”
“Wait... you mean he was wild for all that time?” Stephanie balks, jaw dropping open.
Alfred can only nod. “Yes. It is a shame that Master Bruce must live with, having to keep the boy chained until he came of age. Master Jason has only been living upstairs for the last six months.”
“What happened last night?” Mistress Cassandra asks then, boldly. “We heard screaming, and then the witch came.”
A sigh, and Alfred presses his lips together, unsure of how to explain the disaster wrought by the pollen in Pamela Isley's greenhouse. “Something terrible happened some weeks ago, before you both came into the household,” he starts. “The boys... they were injured on a mission. Master Bruce had taken them both to destroy a greenhouse containing many dangerous plants. Their plans went awry, and the plants released spores that poisoned all three of them and drove Master Timothy to near insanity. Master Jason attempted to intervene, let Timothy feed from him to try to help him fight off the effects of the spores, and that action appears to have created a psychic bond that at last drove both of the boys to complete madness last night. They were... tearing each other apart in their attempt to mate.”
At the girls' twin expressions of utter shock, he continues, “Madame Zatanna was called in to try to undo the damage done to their minds. The effects of the severing, however, have left a lot to be desired.”
“They're broken,” Cassandra says, stating what has been blatantly clear since Master Jason's first awakening this morning.
“Indeed. I'm afraid the bond was stronger than either I or Master Bruce could have surmised.” He won't tell them that Master Timothy's rousing was worse than Master Jason's, the poor boy snapping and snarling in the same way that Jason might have, his teeth extended and eyes shining with rage and terror when he realized he could no longer feel the older boy's presence. He won't tell them about the damage the boys did to each other, either; no reason to alarm them, after all.
Leaning into each other, the girls look contemplative for a long moment, and finally Stephanie speaks up. “We'll do whatever we can to help.”
“That would be much appreciated,” Alfred says with a soft smile for them, reaching across the table to pat Stephanie's hand.
The girl barely manages to suppress a startle at his touch, and whispers in surprise, “You're so cold!”
“What are you?” Cassandra adds, scrutinizing him closely through the clouds in her eyes.
Never let it be thought that the girl can't see; it's obvious to Alfred that she's as sharp as any of them.
With a slight chuckle, he says at last, “My dears, I have been dead since nineteen seventy-three! I am a spirit.”
“Of course,” Stephanie replies, both girls relaxing and laughing quietly with the revelation.
And finally, the tension of the day is broken. It's quite a relief to the tired-yes, tired, he decides-old phantom.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: DCU
Characters/Pairing: Alfed, Steph/Cass, (with Jason/Tim background)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 930
Prompt: For 50_darkfics: Poisonous; For hc_bingo: Driven to Insanity
Summary: Alfred makes a mistake, and that mistake demands explanations. (Or, let's sum up the series so far, bring the girls up to speed, yet continue to withhold vital information. >:D)
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything. The schmucks! *I* treat this family better than DC does, and they're getting their asses kicked in this series! O_o
Author's Notes: Seventeenth in the (Un)Familiar-verse; follows (Un)Tethered. This is the series that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friend... *headdesk* I also had wanted this part to have even more Alfred POV about the family's goings on, but alas, it wasn't meant to be.
(Un)Initiated
With both boys once again sleeping peacefully after another round of waking, their rousing quite an event, if he does say so himself, Alfred excuses himself to the kitchen to start dinner for the rest of the family, as the entire day has passed in tense apprehension while the boys slept.
Upon his appearance, however, he doesn't expect to find the girls seated at the kitchen table, sipping tea and talking in hushed tones, the baby cradled in her mother's arms taking a bottle.
Too late, Stephanie spies him where he's appeared next to the large island, and her brows lift upward in surprise as she draws in a gasp.
Perhaps the day has been longer and more exhausting that Alfred realized, for him to make such a serious mistake in appearing before them; he'd meant to slowly ease the girls into the truth of the family they'd become part of, gradually let them in on the secrets they'd yet to learn, make their transition easier. This is an outright breach of his own protocol, inexcusable, and he feels no fatigue, not really. He should've known the girls were in the kitchen.
“My apologies,” he says simply, composing himself from his minor moment of shock. “I didn't mean to disturb you.”
But Cassandra is already out of her seat, ready to defend them, and Alfred can't help a small sigh, deciding on a course of action quickly. He'll just have to tell them sooner rather than later.
“How did you do that?” Stephanie says, arms curling ever so slightly tighter around her daughter.
“I suppose an explanation is in order,” he admits quietly, stepping across the kitchen to take a seat across the table from her and gesturing to Cassandra to sit down. “There are a great many things you do not yet know about this family.”
One of Stephanie's brows lifts again. “No kidding. And?”
Alfred allows himself a small smile at her impatience. “I'm aware that you know of Master Timothy's condition,” he begins, treating the subject of Timothy's disease gently.
“He's a vampire,” Cassandra says, her hands folded on the table in front of her, possibly to keep herself from leaping up to defend her girls again.
“Yes,” Alfred nods. “Master Bruce found him only two months before he encountered Mistress Stephanie. The poor boy had only just been turned. But he isn't the only member of the household with an incurable condition. Master Jason is a werewolf.”
Stephanie's eyes widen again, before narrowing. “I knew something was up with him. That explains so much.”
“Master Bruce also took in Master Jason when he was just a boy of twelve. However, Jason could not control his metamorphosis until his eighteenth birthday.”
“Wait... you mean he was wild for all that time?” Stephanie balks, jaw dropping open.
Alfred can only nod. “Yes. It is a shame that Master Bruce must live with, having to keep the boy chained until he came of age. Master Jason has only been living upstairs for the last six months.”
“What happened last night?” Mistress Cassandra asks then, boldly. “We heard screaming, and then the witch came.”
A sigh, and Alfred presses his lips together, unsure of how to explain the disaster wrought by the pollen in Pamela Isley's greenhouse. “Something terrible happened some weeks ago, before you both came into the household,” he starts. “The boys... they were injured on a mission. Master Bruce had taken them both to destroy a greenhouse containing many dangerous plants. Their plans went awry, and the plants released spores that poisoned all three of them and drove Master Timothy to near insanity. Master Jason attempted to intervene, let Timothy feed from him to try to help him fight off the effects of the spores, and that action appears to have created a psychic bond that at last drove both of the boys to complete madness last night. They were... tearing each other apart in their attempt to mate.”
At the girls' twin expressions of utter shock, he continues, “Madame Zatanna was called in to try to undo the damage done to their minds. The effects of the severing, however, have left a lot to be desired.”
“They're broken,” Cassandra says, stating what has been blatantly clear since Master Jason's first awakening this morning.
“Indeed. I'm afraid the bond was stronger than either I or Master Bruce could have surmised.” He won't tell them that Master Timothy's rousing was worse than Master Jason's, the poor boy snapping and snarling in the same way that Jason might have, his teeth extended and eyes shining with rage and terror when he realized he could no longer feel the older boy's presence. He won't tell them about the damage the boys did to each other, either; no reason to alarm them, after all.
Leaning into each other, the girls look contemplative for a long moment, and finally Stephanie speaks up. “We'll do whatever we can to help.”
“That would be much appreciated,” Alfred says with a soft smile for them, reaching across the table to pat Stephanie's hand.
The girl barely manages to suppress a startle at his touch, and whispers in surprise, “You're so cold!”
“What are you?” Cassandra adds, scrutinizing him closely through the clouds in her eyes.
Never let it be thought that the girl can't see; it's obvious to Alfred that she's as sharp as any of them.
With a slight chuckle, he says at last, “My dears, I have been dead since nineteen seventy-three! I am a spirit.”
“Of course,” Stephanie replies, both girls relaxing and laughing quietly with the revelation.
And finally, the tension of the day is broken. It's quite a relief to the tired-yes, tired, he decides-old phantom.
~*~*~*~