the black raven | THE BATHROOM

□ damian □

This is the day that my father comes home, and a different feeling emerges in the pit of my stomach. It feels like a fury of something. I can't identify what the 'something' is, but I know I don't like it.

I tried to extinguish it with hard training, but that failed. I tried to extinguish it with driving, but that also failed. I tried to extinguish it by punching myself, but yet again, to no avail.

This is something inside me, I just do not know what. I also know that I despise it. And I want it gone.

"Dami, we need to go. Dad's-" Timothy starts, but I cut him off.

How dare he speak to me like that? Out of nowhere? And before I speak first? On Ghul himself, I know Timothy wouldn't make it far if he ever visits Nanda Parbat.

"Timothy, I know Father is back, but I have more important things to-"

"No, you don't!!! Dad's been missing for two years, two full years, and you've barely helped!" The smaller boy snaps at me, but I don't mind.

I growl in response, giving him a warning. I maintain a stare out at Gotham, from the thirty-fifth floor of Wayne Enterprises.

The ugly fury is back, and it's overloading my sentiments. Blurring the lines, especially between my anger and my melancholy.

Not that I have any melancholy. No, never. I only feel outraged, wrath, and a ruthless, merciless bloodlust.

That's not true.

Shut up-- it's true. No other emotions, only the bloodthirsty lust.

Tell that to Mara. To Jason. To Dick. To Tim, to Alfred, to Bruce.

Fine.

Fine, I do care. But only--

They are family.

"Fine, Damian, be like that. Close yourself off from your family and emotions. Great idea, honestly, because one day you won't be able to keep those frail walls up," Tim adds, snapping me back to the reality of my fury, which is still sitting in my stomach.

Goddamn, do I hate it. It's so focused on ruining the daily task procedure that I neglected to block off my feelings, and now they are stuck in my head. In my heart.

Tim mumbles something but I don't catch it. Instead, I simply take in the wonderful stench of blood, murder, and hate of Gotham as I stare out the large window in front of me.

□ tim □

Sometimes I really hate Damian. He never stops fulfilling whatever he wants. What he always does is ignore me.

It's awfully annoying. And he's constantly brooding about something. I don't see how he can will himself to brood on a day like today, where he knows what's going to happen.

All of us, except for Mara, know what's gonna happen today. It's thick, keeping something as big as this from her.

This means that Gotham has presumed that Bruce Wayne went on a buisiness trip and decided to take a very long vacation and visit some old associates. Dick sends Wayne Enterprises what Bruce would send if he were on vacation; absolutely nothing. Alright, maybe a check or two, but that's it.

Just to keep the media at a distance. We don't want them going into another frenzy when he returns. Especially since they know about Mara, know that she's more gullible and trusting than us.

She's never had to deal with the media before, so I've been teaching her a few things, as well as watching her back when she's out. Dick helps alongside when I can't be there.

"Hey, Mara,"

She's at Wayne Enterprises today. We all are. Me, Dick, Damian, Mara, Alfred, Rachel, Harvey, and Officer Gordon.

Rachel and Gordon also know what's going on. They've done a fine job at keeping Dad's and our secret safe, away from Mara. It's better that way; so we can keep her safer. Safer than if she knew.

"Tim-- yeah?" Mara turns to me, one backpack strap hanging off of her shoulder.

"I have to tell you something. And it's not gonna make sense much, but I need you to understand that it was a very private business, ok?"

Her face falters slightly, but she nods and crosses her arms. I take a breath and simply inform her.

"Bruce is coming back to Gotham,"

Okay, maybe I really should have handled this better.

She stays completely stationary, as do I. I don't dare move, not unless she moves. She probably guesses that I'm playing a cruel joke on her. I'm not.

I can't tell her that it took two years to find Dad after he was taken by the N.J.J guy, who probably tortured and abused him for the full time.

Unexpectedly, Mara nods and smiles slightly with her eyes, and walks away hastily. I don't realize that she walked out of the office until the door shuts quietly.

I curse under my breath and bolt towards the door, immediately thinking of ways to help her deal with what she's feeling.

But the hallway that she stepped out in is empty. I shake my head, then run down to the conference room Damian was just in.

There he stands, brooding and moody. I whipped open the door loudly, catching his attention. I find his irritated face looking back at me.

"

What is it now, Timothy?"

I don't respond, I just flick my eyes around the room to spot Mara, but she isn't here. Then I sigh heavily and seal the door as it was before.

The next place she might've gone was to the place where Dick and Alfred are staying momentarily; a conference room four floors down.

"Damnit," I mumble, irritated with myself for allowing myself to just flat out say the shit that will change Mara's world forever.

It's three floors down and a hallway away when I see a flash of a green backpack.

I know it's her, she's the only person with a green backpack, let alone the only person with a backpack.

"Mara-- stop!" I shout as I try to catch up to her. I round the corner, not realizing how fast she is-- but she's not fast enough. Especially with that heavy-ass backpack of hers.

I hook my hand around the top grip of her bag, and yank her backward, trying to get her to stop. I yanked too hard-- I find that when she practically slams me to the ground.

But, just as she was falling, she's whipped around and had her dark eyes set straight for mine, like a dagger to an eye. I start just before her.

"Mara, wait. I need to finish, and tell you that-"

"No, I don't--!"

"Mara listen to me! Bruce is coming back. I would guess he wants to see his only daughter for the first time-"

"Tim! If he wanted to see me he would've done it the day I got to the house. But he didn't, so he can go and fuck off!" I see the damage he's done indirectly on her face, as well as the anger towards me when and I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"Master Tim, leave her be," Alfred announces, and I twist to face him. I can feel Mara's already left the scene. My eyebrows are etched deep in my face, and an irritated look appears on my face. He takes a couple of steps forward.

"This is not your place to tell her what Master Bruce thinks, nor is it mine. None of ours, except for Master Bruce himself. And he will, but you need to understand something. Miss Mara is not like the rest of you boys," Alfred pauses, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"She's a student, sister, friend, and a normal teenager. Her father has been out of her life for fifteen years, and now the only card she's been dealt is that she has no other choice than to face him herself. This is harder for her than it ever was for any of you because of this, do you understand?" Alfred's speech has me speechless.

But I do understand. He's got a knack for helping and making people understand. He waits for me to give some recognition that I understand him.

"Okay, I understand."

It takes a lot for me to say that, simply because I want to help my little sister cope with her emotions.

Alfred smiles and squeezes my shoulder lightly, then walks back down the hallway towards the elevators.

Mara thought this was some kind of convention that needed all of the Wayne's here. That is true to some degree- Bruce is going to be here -but it's also a lie. It's a reunion, and I'm betting Mara isn't going to make this any easier for herself.

□ mara □

I sit in the women's bathroom, in the stall farthest away from the door. The multicolored tiles are freezing, even though it's warmer outside and inside most buildings than normal.

The bright white lights above the stall burn into my head, washing away the emotions, the small tears that escape my watery eyes.

I silently let the tears fall as I try to navigate my dispositions. Tim was so abrupt at telling me that he was coming home.

God, I genuinely don't know what's worse anymore; my mother hurling me away for drugs or her old teenage fling not being here for two years and not giving a shit about me, not until he comes back.

And I call total bullshit for my mother's decision to keep him from me as well. It's made this ten times harder, which means the anguish I feel is ten times more unbearable.

Another thing I call bullshit on is the story I was given about how Bruce has been on a fucking buisiness trip this whole damned time. Bruce should've come back with Tim over two years ago, but he didn't.

So fuck him. And fuck Tim too, since he looked like he got ran over by a semi when he got back.

He told us that his car broke down, so he called an auto mechanic and he came, but he scammed him, took his car, and drove off.

He also said that he tried to hitchhike, but no one would take the offer, so he walked home from New York, which is a hell of a long way from Gotham.

I don't know how he broke all the things he did, but I don't ask. I don't want to know, nor does he remember. It all just adds to my suspicions of what's going on with my brothers; hell, with this whole fucking family.

"Mara? Are you in here?" My head snaps upward as I hear a friendly voice.

I sniff and rub my eyes rapidly, trying to clear my eyes of all the water, but it doesn't help.

My name echoes through the bathroom again, the voice lighter this time. I sigh quietly.

She knows I'm in here-- I see her black heels stop in front of the stall I'm in, and I see her purse drop-down next to her. She kneels and I see her sit against the wall, feet facing the stall in front of me.

"You want some chocolate? I've got some and I've heard you like chocolate. And cheese. Chocolate and cheese,"

The woman's pale, slender fingers slip a wrapped chocolate bar underneath the door and wait patiently for me to take it.

I feel myself trying to alleviate my breathing and get it to a constant rate, which isn't thriving at all.

All my suffering, bitterness, anger, distress, loneliness, and just utter confusion came pouring out of me the second I stepped into the bathroom. And it was towards Bruce, a man I've never met.

"Mara? If this isn't you then I'm sorry if I've disturbed you," the voice adds, and I reach and take the chocolate.

I give out a small sigh again, and I fully collect myself and my emotions.

"Thanks," I mumble, and take a bite of the chocolate, putting the wrapper in one of my many backpack pockets.

"Anytime."

There's a couple of beats of silence before we speak.

"And Mara, I know that this isn't how you thought your day would go. Neither did I, or Alfred, or anyone else, but it's just what we have to work with. Do you get that?" The woman across from me, on the other side of the door, says. I nod and then realize she can't see me.

"Mhm," I mumble to Rachel Dawes, and I can already see the grin on her face, knowing she got to me.

I wipe my eyes once again after I shoved the rest of the bar into my backpack. I debate whether or not to get up and unlock the door, but ultimately end up staying right where I am, and stay talking to Rachel.

If I continue talking, I might be able to resist what's coming, and I want to ignore it and just go into my imaginative perfect world.

But I can't, I know that. Rachel knows that. Everyone knows that. Life isn't perfect, and it's not fair; consequently, she's a bitch.

"You know what's gonna have to happen right?" Rachel asks, as I slowly start to move my feet.

I grunt a little as I slowly slide up the wall. If Jason were here, he would stand right by me the whole time and listen to what I had to say to Bruce.

I've imagined this day in so many different ways, so many different outcomes, and just so many times, and now it's here. I'm a hot mess. My emotions are bouncing off the fucking walls, as they have a goal. And I know what they're gonna do once they reach that goal.

But I can't let them get to me. I can't let them unlock that door, because once it's open it's not closing ever again.

"Yeah..." I trail off. "Is... is he here? Like, right now?"

I already know the answer, since my tension ramped up about five minutes after I got in the stall, my body indicating that he was here, in the building. I don't know how I know-- maybe human intuition.

Rachel doesn't usually like to waste time, but today I can tell she's in the same boat as me. Bruce and she have been friends for a long time, from what Alfred told me, and that him going missing the first time was hard on her.

And him going missing again really made all of it so much worse. I didn't know he even existed in my life until two years ago, and then when I knew he never stopped by. I haven't seen or truly known about him for fifteen years, and that's not fair.

But life's a bitch, so suck it the fuck up.

"Yes, Mara, he is. And I know exactly how you feel. After those six years and he came back, I remember how I felt. Now you feel the way I did," she pauses for a moment, seemingly taking a moment to think about her next words.

"I still do feel that to some degree today, but in my head, I always remember one thing. Do you want to guess what that is?"

"No."

"Okay," Rachel says, and I unlock the bathroom door and look at her as she smoothes out her dress and picks up her purse.

I wait for her to tell me what her thought is, but she goes near the sink and mirrors. I follow her like a dog following their human when they say the word 'treat'.

"Rachel?" I ask quietly as she sets her purse down on the counter and opens it up.

She digs around for a moment and then I see that her eyes look red, like mine. Was she crying too? She clears her throat and looks at me.

We stare at each other for a moment.

Abruptly, I crack a smile, which turns into the most random fit of laughter. She doesn't even try to hold it in, she just let's go, and the next thing I know we're both doubled over, laughing our lungs out.

Were laughing so hard and loud that we don't even realize Dick poked his head into the women's room.

"Uh, ladies? I don't mean to interrupt, but Alfred was asking for you two to come to the conference room," Dick's voice compliments the small smirk on his face, and I see he's trying to hide his laughter. I guess laughter really is contagious, no matter what.

"Okay Dick, we'll be there in a minute," Rachel tells him, and he nods and disappears behind the pearly white bathroom walls.

Then she turns to me and hands me a makeup wipe and a small black and tan tube. I frown, but then immediately recognize what it is.

"T-thanks Rachel," I chuckle, truly seeing how crappy my mascara looks right now. She smiles.

"Hey, anytime Mara, anytime. I look the same way," she laughs as I wipe away the smeared mascara. I throw the wipe in the trash can between the sink and open up the small tube.

I lean towards the mirror and apply the black ink to my lashes. I lean back and hand the container to Rachel.

I watch as she applies it and puts it back into her bag, and I'm about to pick up my bag and leave when she stops me.

She hands me a small chapstick and tells me to keep it. I smile and take a deep breath. I nod and put it in my Academy skirt pocket.

"You feeling a little bit better?"

"Yeah. But I'm still not ready,"

"That's okay, Mara. But do you think it's better to get it over with now rather than later?" Rachel asks.

I know my answer before I even have to think about it. My eyes meet hers and she knows what I would say. My shoulders stoop and my eyes lower to the sink.

"But you don't have to do it alone. I'll be right there, as well as everyone else in your family. Okay?"

I meet her eyes again. They are filled with something along the lines of hope.

False hope.

"Okay."

And then we head out of the bathroom, neither of us ready in any way, shape, or form to finally face Bruce Wayne.