#a daughter and an orphan | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tsuvvy · 10 months ago

Text

Oh Sister of Mine - Chapter 2

Mistreated Stray

You wake up cuffed to a hospital bed. You refuse to cooperate with the Batfamily and stubbornly refuse to disclose any information about yourself or how you ended up in your job with Kerrim. And surprise rises when they find out whose DNA matches closest to yours.

Warnings: Mentions of pain, you are handcuffed to a bed, fighting with electricity, violence (not a lot), mentions of not eating well, implication of (not) poisoned food, mention of killing and torture, you being compared to a stray dog (not in a bad way, I promise)

Word Count: 2.3k

Your head was pounding. Your limbs hurt. You felt uncomfortable.

You wanted to curl up into a little ball. But when you tried to move your hand, it didn't go very far. It was abruptly stopped by a force.

You peeled your eyelids open and managed to look down through your blurry vision. You were handcuffed to the bed.

You looked around with your confused and still somewhat blurry eyesight.

Off to the side, there was a man. He was decently tall and his clothes looked meticulously cleaned and pressed of any wrinkles there could ever possibly be with his perfect posture. He didn't have many similarities with your father, but you were quite disoriented. He was at a counter with his back towards you.

“Dad…?” You muttered out in a somewhat shaky voice of pain. Your head felt like it was getting worse.

The man paused in what he was doing at the sound. He took a moment before turning to look at you. He had gray hair and wrinkles along his forehead, which were both no doubt from aging. And he had a nice mustache as well. It was clear he had a nice job to get such a nice suit as the one he wore.

“Ah, I see you are finally awake,” He said, more of an observation than trying to speak to you. “I am Alfred Pennyworth,” Cassandra had already told him of her own observations that you couldn't understand much, but it looked like you could. No one knew to what extent of speech you knew and didn’t know. He grabbed the tray off of the counter he was just at. He stepped towards you and put it down on the bed next to you.

You almost curled away from him. Like a scared stray dog. Your gaze traveled to the tray, his hand, and then him. The tray had an assortment of little items on it. You couldn't tell what they were. They smelled good, but..

The man backed away from you, noticing your movement and cautious gaze.

“Go on,” he gestured toward the tray. “It is safe,” he offered a kind gaze. But he was meant with nothing but a mean scowl from you. He knew this was going nowhere, “I will return shortly.”

You watched him turn his back toward you. And you watched him leave.

It took a moment before you looked down the tray. You hesitantly reached a hand over, poking the little sandwiches on the tray before picking it up and smelling it. You took a tiny and cautious bite. It actually tasted.. Good..

You are so accustomed to the lazily prepared and bad tasting food that your father would feed you. So these tiny little sandwiches seemed like a delicacy. One that you could not stop eating.

You only stopped when someone stepped into the room that resembled that of a hospital one.

The old man had returned, then behind him came a red-head in a chair with wheels and two ravenettes in after her. The four stopped when they looked at you. The tray of 14 little sandwiches was down to about 3 now.

Alfred smiled at you, even if you had gone back to your stiff and cautious curl you could manage. Your body pressed against the arm of the hospital bed.

“I see you enjoyed the snack,” Alfred said, “Excuse me while I make some more for our guest.” He had turned to the three.

“Of course, it's no worries at all!” The red head told him with a smile before he made his exit.

You watched him leave, your gaze immediately turning to the three that entered farther into the room.

The woman with short black hair looked at you. You hated her gaze. You hated the pity you saw. And you hated the color. And you just hated it. You hated her.

“Hello,” the red head said, wheeling her chair a bit closer to the bed you were sitting in. “I'm Barbara,” her voice was sweet, gentle, and soft. “This is Bruce,” she gestured to the man with black hair who moved to stand behind her. “And that is Cassandra.” She stood farther away from the bed, her arms crossed, “Though you probably.. Already know her.” Barbara glanced at you, watching your reaction. Bruce watched carefully as well. You just glanced around at everyone warily.

Why weren't you locked up? Why weren't you getting worse treatment than just being cuffed to the arm of a hospital bed. You’ve seen your father kill and torture his enemies. Why wasn't that happening to you?

“What's your name?” Barbara asked you gently. Bruce stood behind the chair she sat in, still watching you.

“I…” Your voice was quiet, and you were hesitant, you looked away stubbornly. “Can’t tell.” Though you did keep the three in your peripheral. The three were a bit disconcerted from that answer. You were young, possibly younger than Damian, so why couldn’t you tell them?

“Why not?” The redhead asked. You didn’t answer so she moved on. “What about your age?” She asked gently, her gaze reassuring. You stubbornly shook your head. Barbara looked behind herself at Bruce, the two sharing the same look.

“I understand you are scared, but-” Bruce was cut off.

“Not scared.” You sent him a scowl.

“Alright, you aren’t scared,” he restated, “Either way we need to know why you were working for someone like Kerrim.”

You looked away again. “Please, we want to help,” Barbara urged.

“Nothing,” You said, voice cracking subtly for a second in your uncertainty.

“Nothing?” Barbara questioned.

“Nothing I know.” You said.

“What does that mean?” Barbara asked. She had a good idea what you meant. She was a genius, after all. But she wanted to hear it from your perspective.

“They don’t know anything,” Everyone looked to the doorway. There stood a boy with a dog next to him. “But they’re lying.” His gaze narrowed on you in a glare. And you returned that glare with a scowl.

“Damian?” Barbara questioned.

“You do know something,” He walked in, his hands in his pockets and the dog at his side. “You just won’t give it up.”

Everyone was silent for a beat.

“Or,” Damian spoke up through the silence, “You were taught not to.” Damian could see through you. “Am I right?” He raised a brow, the cocky smirk that looked to be an insanely good impersonation of Robin (crazy, right?). Your scowl only deepened. When Alfred came into the room with another tray of little sandwiches, you tried to push yourself farther into the armrest on the bed. Damian picked off one of the little sandwiches as he said, “Seems I am.” His gaze shifted towards Bruce, “Should I continue?” He asked arrogantly.

“I believe there is no need for that, Master Damian.” Alfred spoke as he placed the newly acquired tray of sandwiches on the bed and placed the ones from the other tray onto it and took the old tray. He diligently backed away from the bed and in turn, you. He didn’t wish to make this any more stressful for you than it already was.

“Alfred is right,” Bruce agreed.

“Bruce,” A boy with black hair peeked into the room, a laptop in his hands. “Could I speak with you,” he insinuated to talking away from this room.

“Yes,” Bruce said, looking at you. “Barbara, Alfred, stay with them.” He told the two. “Damian and Cassandra, come with us.”

The two obeyed, following him out of the room. But, the dog next to Damian's side stayed in the room instead of following him out. The big dog came to sit next to the chair Barbara was in.

“Have you found something, Tim?” Bruce asked.

“A little,” the boy answered as he led the group back to the main computer he had been working at.

“And that is?” Damian raised a brow.

“I'd appreciate it if you kept the rude remarks to a minimum, thanks.” Tim sighed as he sat in the swivel chair and began to type away. “I couldn't find a lot.” Tim said.

“What did you find?” Bruce asked. He put a hand on the top of the chair and leaned into his other hand he rested on the edge of the desk.

“I tried looking for things based on her description and pictures first. Like missing persons reports or even any pictures that might have been taken out in the open. But I couldn't find anything,” Tim continued to type on the keyboard. “Then I looked for a birth certificate by putting in general information, but also couldn't find anything.”

“Get to the point.” Damian chimed in, getting impatient.

Cassandra had stood quiet, listening intently. Something about you she felt like she knew. She felt like she knew you. But she knew she didn't. She would probably recall meeting a young child adept at fighting that had electricity powers.

“Getting there,” Tim grumbled, finally pulling up a DNA Match screen. “Then, I had Alfred help grab something to use for a DNA match,” He cleared out the other screens in the way.

On the big computer screen was a picture displayed of you, and then one next to it. The picture next to the one of you was of Cassandra, much to Damian, her's, and Bruce's surprise. The words,

‘Closest Match’

were flashing on the screen.

“Now, the kid is obviously not in the database,” Tim pushed against the desk, turning the swivel chair to look at the three. “But they are related to Cass.”

Cass stood stunned, staring at the computer screen. Maybe there was a reasoning to why you were so familiar to her…

The four looking at the computer, Tim at the others, heard a sudden zap, then a few barks and yells. Everyone whipped to look at the door.

“Hey, hey, no!” Barbara's voice sounded from the room.

Not long at all afterward, you came out of the room as quickly as you could. Though you were significantly slower.

Bruce stepped forward, but he stopped when he caught your gaze. Your venomous gaze that would have sent shivers down anyone's spine who didn't deal with people like this a lot. But it caught Bruce off guard.

It wasn’t as much about the venom in your glare. It was what you reminded him of.

You reminded him of something like a stray animal. One that has been mistreated over the years, had to fight for food. Lost loved ones, been abandoned.

Your gaze traveled across everyone in the room.

“Don't!” You yelled when you saw Tim stand up. “Don't, come.. Come near!” You figured out your words. Tim and Cassandra shared a glance.

“Just..” You looked at Bruce quickly. “Calm down.” He kept his tone as soft as he could manage. He puts a hand out, tries to ease your emotions.

You finally noticed Damian. He had gotten closer without your realizing. Your reaction time has decreased with how exhausted you still were. You managed to back away from his hand in the nick of time.

“Damian no!” Cassandra yelled when she saw Damian about to punch at you.

Damian hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting to Cassandra momentarily. You took the opportunity to send a kick at him. He dodged. You started sending more attacks, all being significantly slower than they had been when you first ran into the vigilantes.

Damian only dodged your attacks, slowly backing away throughout the area. No one else intervened. It was all happening too quickly.

You were already charging up the electricity in your arm. It wrapped and flickered around your arm, quickly traveling down to your hand. You threw your hand out, sending the shot of electricity at Damian, but he ducked, effectively dodging it.

Your eyes felt heavy. Your own arm you had just used felt numb and tingly. Your legs shook, and your heart was racing. And you were falling..

Damian moved quickly, still in his crouch from ducking. He opened his arms and you fell into him, your head landing on his chest.

Damian put a hand around your shoulder, holding it firmly, making sure you wouldn't try to get up, but he already knew you couldn't with how weak you were.

And you weakly trying to push against him to get away from him only proved that.

“Get away,” you said, voice shaking. “Get. Get..” You weakly pushed. “Get away. Get away..” You sounded like a broken record. Voice continuously breaking, and also continuously repeating yourself. “Please.. Get away!” You cried.

“Calm down!” Damian told you.

“Away! Away! Away!” You continued to cry.

“Hey, I told you to calm down!” Damian kept his voice a firm but calm tone. “You're safe, no one will hurt you!” He glanced at the woman who had approached and crouched next to the two of you. You hadn't noticed her.

You hadn't noticed her until she was pulling you away from Damian’s arms and into her own.

“Shh,” Cassandra held you tightly in her arms against her chest, “It's okay,” she rested her forehead against your head.

“Get away!” Your voice grew louder, more desperate, more hysterical. “Get,” She shushed you again, “Get away..” Your voice was growing quieter. “Get away.” A mutter now.

She was.. Cassandra was warm, and.. You couldn’t understand anything that was happening. Too much is happening. This warmth was foreign. And the want to lean into her was foreign, and quite frankly an unwelcome feeling you didn't want in your body.

“It's okay,” She told you softly, “I have you.” She wasn't sure why she felt the need to protect you. To hold you tightly. To never let go. To always keep you safe.

Why did the words make your stomach tighten like they did? And your heart felt weird. Almost worrisome to you if you had the time to think of your heart of all things.

You tried to fight the way your eyes grew heavier. “Get away..” Your voice was quiet, shaky, and tired. “Get..” You breathed, “Get away..”

You were asleep…

<- Chapter 1 Chapter 3 ->

@redh00dsbf @02006

471 notes · View notes