The Butlers Forgiveness



the black raven | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 π…πŽπ‘π†πˆπ•π„ππ„π’π’


β–‘ mara β–‘

It's Sunday now. I hate Sundays. Why? Because I have to go back to the Manor tomorrow. I know they've been watching me, all of them. Creeps. My father, my brothers, Alfred, all watching me. Watching Monique, watching Lindsey. I don't call Monique's mother Lindsey out loud though, I wouldn't dare. Just in my head I call her Lindsey. Otherwise I just call her Mom, I guess, even though she's not my mom. My mom is dead, my mother is dead, as a stranger is my biological female guardian. I can't even stand to think about her, so I don't. Either way, I already overheard Lindsey talking to someone on the phone, who's first name starts with 'Mr' and ends with 'Wayne', so Bruce already knows where I've been. Not like he hasn't all fricken weekend. Again, CREEPY. I walked away after the first two words. Hanging around with Monique's family has been very refreshing, but I do have to admit I'm not used to being around women anymore, since I live with guys 24/7. It's getting slightly annoying, and I'm agitated with myself for that. I'm supposed to be angry at my family, and not with me or the people who so kindly let me stay here for the weekend.

"Heyyyy Mara," Monique started as she leans against the doorframe of her room. I'm leaning back in her chair on my phone. I look up at her.

"Yeah," I respond, half knowing what's coming.

"Your Dad's gonna be here in like, 5 minutes, so just a heads up," she smiles. I'm confused. Why- oh, right. She doesn't know about Bruce and that he's Batman, as crazy as that sounds. She also doesn't know that I got into a fight with him too, if you could call it that, even though it was more of an agressive conversation. Accept when I gave him the facts about how he wasn't here for the past 15 years, let alone knowing about me for 2. But then again he was kidnapped and tortured for whatever me, apparently, so I kinda have to cut him some slack. But I'm not gonna give it to him. Not yet.

"Ok, well, I'll get my stuff ready," I respond, dreading going back home. I probably should've just went home on Friday, it would've been a lot less awkward to go home to them like that rather than now. But I can't change the past, I can only make my future.

Jesus, that sounded like some superhero speech type bullcrap, like right before the big fight against the villian.

Stupid ass. Haha.

"Hey, um, thanks for letting me stay here, I know it was really last minute. And...uh, us your Mom mad at me?"

"Oh, of course! Anytime you need to, come by me. I gotchu like there's no tomorrow. And no, I don't think that she's too mad at you. Honestly she's probably relieved to see you over here again, and to have another person around here besides me, who's a real pain in her ass sometimes," Monique chuckles, which I catch onto quickly. But it ends quickly when Monique's Mom, Lindsey, stops by the door, her curly copper hair bouncing as she stops near the door.

"Hey, uh, your rides here," she says, her green eyes meet my dark ones. I take a breath and slide down the chair, not wanting to leave. "Girl, you've been here for two days-"

"Okay okay okay, I'm going I'm going!" I quickly stand up and give her a playful glare. She just chuckles and walks away, back to her room. Monique rolls her eyes and gives me my jacket and shoes as I stumble over to her. I'm tired and I don't wanna go, but I have to. I slip on my shoes and jacket, and let Monique push me towards the door. She opens it.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine. You guys are siblings. Family. And damily always forgives family. You'll be just fine, even if this was a little excessive for a fight with your brother," the taller redhead in front of me adivses, and I smile.

"Thanks Monique," and with that, I step out the door, amd realize I'm not ready to face my family at all, whatsoever. But it's fine. Totally.

Oh dear God this is going to be a disaster.

β–‘Alfredβ–‘

I see the small girl walk to the limousine, and I see she keeps her head down. At least she's alive, I joke to myself, trying to lighten up the mood. But it doesn't work. It's a very awkward car ride home, in dead silence. Master Mara is not happy with us. We all see that, and I get it. She just learned her father and brothers are vigilantes. Also how one of them truly died. The way she reacted was perfectly normal, perfectly justified, so I'm not worried about that. What I'm worried about is if she told her friend about us. She might've had the common sense to not do so, which is what I'm hoping, but then again, the mind of the teenager takes many twists and turns. It warps itself to be a makeshift warzone, twenty four seven. And that's what's happening right now, I'm guessing. I don't know whether to talk or keep quiet, so I just follow as Mara does. If she talks, I'll talk. If she doesn't talk, which she isn't, I won't speak a word.

Almost the second I pull up to the Manor, Mara yelps. I stop and turn to her through the small window, alarmed.

"Are you alright- !?"

"Fine. Just choked on...air. Went down the wrong pipe I guess," she says, peering out the window.

"Dear, I don't think you can choke on air, as it goes down both pipes. Not just one," I reply, sarcasm as a way to lighten up the mood. At least get something out of her besides passive aggressiveness or silence.

"Actually I think-"

She stops abruptly and looks down.

"Sorry, I just, I didn't mean to- didn't mean to snap," she stutters. I sigh. Something I did reminded her of something. Whatever it was, it bothers her.

"No, dear, it's quite alright. You have every reason to," I state firmly.

"Oh, ok. At least your this... forgiving, I guess" she gives a slight bend in her cheek, and I see it. The trademark smile for the Wayne's. A half smirk. And she showed it perfectly. She really is her father's daughter.

"Miss Mara, I do believe your brothers and father will be just as forgiving for springing this on you, as well as for yelling at you. All you have to do is talk to them. If you do that, you're halfway there,"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But it's just that- um, okay you know what? Nevermind. Yeah, nevermind," there's a beat of silence between us. My brows furrow as I don't follow. She still is peering out the window.

"No,"

"What?" And now she turns to me.

"No, what is it? You know you are able to talk to me or anyone else in this family about anything, right dear?" Mara looks at me with a funny expression, like I'm a bit crazier than the rest of the humans. Well, that is true. We all are, to some degree, crazier than everyone else on the planet.

"Um...sure, y-yeah. Uh, I was just gonna say, um...well, I think that their just gonna see me as their over emotional kid sister who didn't know how to act...well, mature, like they probably did when they found out, you know?" She speaks slowly, as if she can't seem to form the words. I see she struggles with this, as her whole body tensed as she said it. I mostly noticed her jaw, hearing it click back and forth a couple of times. I nod, knowing exactly what she's feeling like. I've delt with it for years. First Bruce, then Dick, Damian, Jason and Tim, and now herself. Also myself, as I was a different man all those years ago.

"Mara Wayne, let me explain something very important to you. Are you listening?" My voice is stern as she straightens at the use of her last name, her eyes wide. I soften my whole demeanor when I see the glazed look of fear in her eyes. My brows furrow deeper, not helping my situation. I take a breath in. All she does is nod, signaling me to continue.

"Well, for starters, family is family. Were supposed to get angry at one another, walk out on one another, insult, hurt, and annoy each other. But family also forgives, anytime, anyday, anywhere, because it's engrained in our blood. And guess what? The Wayne family follows those rules, and your apart of this family. Secondly, we knew we shouldn't have sprung this burden on you so quickly. And now lastly; all the rest of the knuckleheads in this household have been anxiously waiting to ask for forgiveness for the whole damned weekend," I finish, and realize I've cursed. My lips part slightly. "Sorry dear, I got a little bit carried away with my speech there."

And then Mara laughs and smiles, which is music to my ears and eyes. It makes me smile.

"No, uh, it's fine, Alfred, I've heard much worse," she tells me, and I raise my eyebrows.

"And from whom did you hear the language from?" The tension and awkwardness in the air vanished. This makes her pause and think, but then burst into laughter once again.

"Are you kidding me? Have you seen Damian? He's a fricken psychopath! He swears twenty-four seven!!" She barely gets the first sentence out before laughing again.

"Well, I agree with that entirely Master Mara." My voice is calm as she quiets down. Her smile fades quickly when she frowns.

"What's wrong dear?" The parental instinct in me is blooming like a flower in spring.

"Damian...he's lied- he's- he's been lying to me. All of you have," Mara's anger and regret bubble into the tail end of the sentence. I swallow and nod, the taste of the air in the car cold and bitter now. I expect Mara to keep going, but she surprises me.

"But I know why. I won't understand it, but I know why," the brunette states, almost to herself, as she stares into the dark abyss of the seats in front of her. Another couple moments of silence, and I speak.

"Well, that's progress. And inside the Manor is more progress," the teenager looks up at me with the saddest eyes, which turn to anxiety in a matter of seconds.

"Hm."

She then slides to the door, opens it, and gets out before I can protest.

"Coming, old man?" She shouts from the other side of the limousine, and I chuckle and shake my head. I know her good mood will disintegrate within minutes, but again, it's nice to smile and hear her laugh after coming so long without it.

"Of course Miss Mara, of course I'm coming. And I'm not that old." I don't lock the automobile yet, as I'll come back later and park it properly.

"You want to see someone old, take a look at your father. He's almost as old as the hills!" I joke, but quickly regret it as I talked about Bruce; a touchy subject for her at the moment. She looks at me as we walk, but with a slight smile.

And right then and there I know. I just do.

Mara might just be excited to make amends with her father.

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