Prompt Post - Part Ten
I am REALLY, REALLY SORRY about taking so long, guys, and about not being around much recently. I've been busier than I have in a while, and it just kept slipping my mind between uni applications and volunteering and all sorts- for some reason I thought we were much further off a new post.
If there is anything I haven't responded to, as of now, I'm ( Read more... )
A knock sounded at the door and followed moment’s pause before the butler stepped in. Dick, for the life of him, couldn’t remember his name-he couldn’t remember anyone’s name; figures blurred and condolences distorted in his eyes. They didn’t understand. They would never understand. They said they did, with hands that brushed his cheek, or ruffled his hair, or squeezed his shoulder. They still saw the world as it was. Their world was just perfect, as defined by their standards, with thick sharp lines. To them everything was definite. They stood on grass; that was rain rolling off their umbrellas and down his cheeks; those were two angels guarding two fallen flyers; that was their son watching them with hollow eyes.
But it wasn’t really-not to Dick, anyway. They were standing on nothing, just a smear of brown and green; there was nothing but sheets of grey falling from a distortion above their heads; there weren’t any angels to look at and cry over. What there was was a giant chasm at their feet, where his figures twisted amongst the black that seeped over them, soaking their wings and dragging them further away.
“I’ve brought you your dinner, Master Richard.”
Dick briefly glanced up at the tray by his bedside. “I’m not hungry,” he said, turning away to watch the shadows as they shied away from the moonlight on the ceiling.
There was moment when he thought the old man would leave, but then the bed dipped slightly by his head and the tray handle brushed against his ear.
“Come now, Master Richard. You need to put something in your stomach.”
He burrowed farther into the blankets, fighting desperately to suppress the queasiness that bubbled up in stomach at their softness. Too much comfort-there was too much comfort here, too much waiting, too much space. He needed to get out, to move, to be somewhere. He needed to fly. He needed-
“It’s never going to stop.”
Dick’s fingers twitched.
“The pain, Master Richard. It’s never going to stop. It’s going to continue to hurt, till the very end,” the butler was standing behind him now, he could feel his gaze resting on his back, “but one day, you’ll wake up and look at a photograph and think of how loved they were, how loved you were. And that is more than enough of a reason to keep you going.”
The room was silent, and Dick watched the man’s shadow grow long and wiry in the moonlight until he placed something on the try and headed for the door. His hand had just touched the knob when Dick released a shaky breath. “Goodnight, Alfred,” he whispered.
Alfred smiled, “Goodnight Master Richard.” The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Dick fought his way out of the covers and pulled the tray onto this lap. His parents smiled back him. His father and mother arm in arm as he stood between them, beaming up at the camera like he owned the world.
The imaged blurred hot and wet, but he could still see it-their faces, their smiles. He removed the lid and curled his hands to his wet face. It was his mother’s favorite.
A/N: [don't know why I anon'd] I know it doesn’t dwell enough on Robin’s heart break, but I just couldn’t do it. So instead, I’m giving you everything I wish someone would have given me when it happened and who better then to do so, but Alfred. Also un-betaed because this was basically just a rush of feelings.
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