Sound of Silence Chapter 1

[cat_13145]

Title: Sound of Silence Chapter 1
Fandom: DCU
Character(s): Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne,  Cassandra Cain, Thomas Elliot,
Genre: AU weridness
Rating: PG/K+, currently.
Notes: This was inspired by Vespertilia story Masquerade (http://vespertila.livejournal.com/115403.html#cutid1). It's Either a Powerless AU or a Super Villian's Plot (haven't decided yet and will let myself be advised).
 

 

Her lips roamed over his, their breath coming gasps.

The blonde wig had slipped off her head soon after they begun. She would have to find it before they went in.

The scent of the Escallonia came, as it drove into her back. They had to stop soon; else she’d never stop at all.

 “We should go back” she whispered, her voice as ever sounding slightly husky as though from lack of use. Jason shook his head, his black curls moving and catching the light from the house.

 “Let them come.” He muttered. “I don’t care. I want people to know you’re mine.”

She shook her head, her fingers touching his, reminding him that they couldn’t. That there was no way either of their fathers would approve.

Jason groaned, his eyes gazing back at the glaring windows of Wayne manor.

“I hate it at points you know.”

She nodded

She quickly located the wig and smoothed the blue dress, trying to hide any traces of what they’d been doing. She glances at Jason, touching her lips, and bringing her fingers up to his. He shakes his head, as she makes her way up to the mansion alone.

 She blinked rapidly, as she reentered the ballroom.

After the darkness of the garden, the light of the room was nearly blinding. Add to that the sounds of a band trying desperately to drown conversations with Simon and Garfunkel and the conversation battling with it, and it took all of her nerve not to run out into the garden again.

“Cassandra.” She turned at the sound of her name to see her guardian, Dr Thomas Elliot standing there. “Come here. There is someone I want you to meet.”

She nodded softly.

 “Harvey Dent, this is my ward. Cassandra Cain.”

The handsome man smiled at her.

“Your father tells me that you’ve applied to Gotham University.”
Cassandra nodded.

 She watched, almost unbidden the wince of Pain that covered her guardian face. She knew her borderline elective mutism frustrated him.

“Well...” Harvey Dent was waiting. “What are you applying for?”

“Chemistry.” She said, softly.

***

Elliot watched, as almost unnoticed, Jason Todd pushed past them. It was only for a second, but he saw Cassandra’s hand link with Jason’s.

He supposed he shouldn’t honestly be surprised. Jason had been the first one to get a child labeled at mute to speak.

They made a handsome couple too, Jason’s suave good looks complimenting Cassandra’s almost Asian continence. It was just...

He watched as Jason’s arm curled snake like around a woman dressed as a Vampire and watched him whispering in her ear.

She could do better than one of the Wayne boys.

Then again he thought, as he watched Bruce Wayne weave his way through the crowds, and the brief pained look on the face of the oldest of the boys, they could do better with a father.

***

 “And what,” Harvey Dent was asking “are you?”

“Sally.” Cassandra said, and added spontaneously for her, “from Peanuts.”

Harvey nodded, frowning slightly. “Forgive me, but I don’t remember Sally having a brown streak in her hair.”

Shit! Cassandra’s hands flew up to her hair, and touched the damp mud still hanging there.

“I stepped out for some air.” She said, the lies coming easier than the truth ever did. “It must have fallen off. Excuse me.” She headed for the bathroom.

 

In the privacy of the bathroom, Cassandra slips off her wig. Waving her hand under the tap, she began washing the fake blonde hair. The mud easily slides off, turning the white porcelain black.

As she held it up to the light, she could hear something over the noise of the tap.

Someone sobbing.

“Excuse me. Barbara?”

“Go away! I’m fine.”

“You lie.” She knelt down beside the door. Eventually Barbra unlocked the door.

“Why do I do this?” she demanded. “Why do I come here every year? I know what’s going to happen.”

Cassandra shrugged.

“He simply wishes to please his father.”
“By bonking anything that moves!”

Cassandra shrugged. A part of her wanted to say that she knew what she was getting herself into., but Barbara wasn’t like her or Stephaney. She hadn’t spent her childhood attending these parties, seeing how Bruce behaved towards the women at these parties. Hadn’t seen Vesper Fairchild leaving in tears after Bruce Wayne had invited her over with three other women in the hot tub. That wasn’t an isolated incident; it was simply the one that stuck in her mind.

She knelt down beside Barbara’s wheel chair and tried to remember how Alfred had handled these women.

A cab. He had offered to help them leave.

“Do you want me to call you a cab?”

“No. No.” Barbara said, wiping her eyes. “I can’t go home early. My father would want to know why and even if I didn’t tell him, he’d still blame Dick.”

Cassandra smiled internally at the loyalty all of Wayne’s boys invoked.

“So you plan to hide out in the bathroom for the remainder of the party?” she asked, with a slight laugh in her voice.

Barbra shook her head.

“Well then...” she pulled the wig back on her head and held out her hand. Barbara wheeled herself forward.

***

“Bonking the boss’s daughter.” Jason deliberately slurred his words, even though he was less drunk than he appeared. “Got to hand it to you Goldie, it’s a way to get a head.”

He smiled inwardly at the anger that passed over Dick’s face. He wasn’t drunk, the thought of been that out of control frankly terrorized, but he was going to play it. It was the only way he was going to get through this.

He moved his emptied pumpkin cold and clammy-why had he let Alfred talk him into them? Oh right, because Cassandra looked cute as Lucy- his unease and anxiety increasing as he spotted Sasha Bordeaux walking the floor with a face like thunder. A glance a few inches to her left confirmed the reason for her expression. Talia, beautiful despite been what six months pregnant? Was standing in the doorway, eyes nervously searching the revelers.

Tim muttered something that if it had been anyone else he would have said would be a swear word.

“What she doing her?”

Dick shrugged. “Either Alfred sent the invites before all this happened, she invited herself or...”

Or Bruce invited her. The words hung unspoken in the air, as the Blonde body guard grabbed the skunk butler’s arm and hissed angrily at him. The aged Brit was shaking his head, his face concerned. Sasha’s face went, if possible, darker than it had been, and she stormed off.

***

His head was throbbing. His vision was blurred. His ears were ringing.

There was a skunk glaring down at him.

“Did you hurt yourself Master Bruce?” the skunk asked.

He blinked and the room stopped spinning quite as fast as it had been.

“Alfred?” he asked, recognizing the voice.

“Who else master?” the skunk said, balancing a tray of drinks while regarding him with a world weary expression.

“What’s going on?” he asked, struggling to focus against the noise and lights that were playing with his senses.

“What’s going on?” the skunk repeated, matter of factly. “Our annual Halloween party.”

He moved around the room, picking things up off the floor with a slight sniff.

“Do you think that when you have finished entertaining beautiful women and consuming shameful amount of champagne, you could find a few minutes of your precious time to tell your sons not to try and emulate you so strenuously?”   The tone of disapproval in the butler’s voice is evident, and Bruce grunted in response.

“Another thing master Bruce,” the stunk continued, replacing the items he had picked up on the dressing table. “Someone wishes to speak with you”

“Who?” Bruce asked. His head is pounding, How did he get so drunk?
Alfred makes a reply, but it gets swallowed by the music. It’s loud and feels like he should know the tune, but he can’t think straight.

“Who?” he asked again. Alfred gave a small sniff.
“Now, with your permission, I will return to take care of our guests” the skunk sombrely replied. He moved away and walked out into the Hall.

The billionaire placed a hand on the table and tried to pull himself up. It was surprisingly easy, his legs straightened up without any problems. Standing, however is another matter, as his head was pounding like a jack hammer, his stomach felt like it’s on the Atlantic ocean in the middle of a storm, and his vision... the room doesn’t stay still, it wrinkles up, blurs and looks like melting its every now and then .
Slowly he let go of the table and breathed slowly. He can do this.

Carefully he put one foot in front of the other

The room kept spinning and bending. The Pumpkins flashed and snickered manically.

The black candles resemble high jail bars.
He had to physically cut his way through the guests, using elbows and shoulders. It’s madness.

A fairy offered a crocodile a spider, hanging on a liquorice web. A bishop speaking to a devil. An angel with peacock wings is being led on to the dance floor by a platoon of boy-scouts. A skeleton laughed at the jokes of a scantily clad nurse.

He stepped uncertainly forward, definitely not in a straight line. In fact it was only couple of seconds later that he collided with a couple who had to be-at least- top models.

“I beg your pardon.”

“No problem, love” one of the ladies turned to face him. Her head is red, but her skin is completely green and she’s wearing a bikini made of ivy shoots.  At points it looks like the ivy is moving, trying to catch him.

“We’re having TONZ of FUN, B.!” The second woman, dressed in a Harlequin suit, squealed enthusiastically at him. He stared at them for a moment, nonplussed. Has he met them before? Does he know them?

A third woman, dressed as a cat, smiled seductively at him, as he tried to make his way through the crowd.  The music seemed to be getting louder. He’d speak with the band; ask them to tone it down, if he could get there.

He tried making his way through the crowd, but he was having difficulty walking in a straight line.

He collides with a man dressed as a penguin with a monocle.

“I’m sorry.” He began, but the penguin shook his head.

“Don’t apologise.” He said, patting sonorously Bruce’s chest with one of his webbed hands:
“Nice party Wayne!” he cracked and moved past him.

*

“We should go.” Cassandra said, softly. She had seen Talia’s arrival, and could see Bruce’s condition. There was going to be an almighty row, and she was fairly certain that Dick would not want Barbara to see it.

“Why?” Barbara asked. Things had got better since they left the bathroom. The music was still ridiculously loud, but Cassandra had led them over to the buffet table, and introduced her to Stephaney Brown, who she’d met once before. Like Barbara, Stephaney was furious at the neglect shown to her, though her target was the youngest of the three.
“It is getting too warm. I feel faint.  Don’t you Stephaney?” she said, reaching out her hand. A nerve pinch would deal with it. She couldn’t remember learning it, but it was effective. Stephaney tipped forward. Carefully she began guiding the pair of them towards the window, but as a voice came across the ballroom, confirming her thoughts that she was too late.

*

“Hey look, daddy takes the trouble of paying us a visit…” Jason slurred his speech worse than ever.

“Jason..?” Bruce squinted his eyes at his second “son” who stood boldly, wearing a large emptied pumpkin as shorts… and nothing else.

“What on earth ...?” he tried to speak, but it was getting even harder to form words.
“I’m the Great Pumpkin” Jason retorted, apparently unaffected, accepting the flute that a Vampirella is handling him. “Like? Wanna see the candle in the pumpkin?” he smirked.
Bruce’s expression darkened.
“Relax Bruce” a showy fop butted in. Dick, sporting a tense smile and with one arm wrapped around the waist of a girl dressed as Batgirl and the other around the shoulders of one dressed as Supergirl. “Just for the party, pretend you’re having some fun...”
“Come on, cut it out guys…” Tim – who’s wearing a Tony Manero suit, from Saturday Night Fever and clearly the only sober one – muttered.
“You’re too good Timbo” Dick commented warmly, as Jason shrugged and whispered to Vampirella:
“I’ve something for ya to suck to blood, babe…”
“ONCE MORE FOLKS!” the conductor croaked from somewhere; the music was deafening now, the tune frantic and strident.

Bruce winced, glancing around trying to locate where the music was coming from and finally spotted it.

A conductor, dressed in a horrendous purple suit with a face like a clown, stood high above the revellers. He was conducting a full orchestra with... Bruce’s eyes widened. With a crowbar!
“That’s the Joker!” Bruce exclaimed – the sudden apparition had apparently cleared his brain.
“I see that he’s a Joker” Dick answered self-conceited,
“Fucking clowns, always hated ‘em…” Jason muttered, echoing his older brother’s sentiments.

Bruce turned to face the boys with a confused expression. Don’t they see him? How could any of them, especially Jason, not realise what this meant. What’s wrong with them?

And what’s wrong with him? Why didn’t he notice it sooner? The guests, all of them...it’s a trap.

Tim seemed to pick up that something was wrong, as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Sit down. Please. You’ve had too to drink...” he said, with quiet desperation, driving him towards an empty chair.

“Tim help.” Bruce hissed to his youngest. “I need my costume, we’re all in danger.”

Tim’s face became concerned, and he glanced desperately towards his brothers.

If Bruce thought he had finally got through to him, the boy’s next words disillusioned him.

“Bruce.” He said, trying to stay calm and clear. “You’re already in your costume.”

He glanced down and realised that Tim is technically correct, he is a Batman costume. But it’s a silk one, midnight blue and azure and useless in this situation.

 “Not this one!” he snapped. “You know what I mean! Help me to the Batcave!”
“Bat-what?” Jason barked a vicious, bitter laugh. “Christ, he really thinks he’s the Batman…” he shook his head and added, in clear disdain, “Shitty boozer…”
“Jay” Dick reprimanded him  but there’s neither force or malice in it.  Bruce studied his “firstborn” and realized that he too thinks what Jason has just said.
“Bruce, sit down now” Tim urged, desperately. The scene was starting to attract attention.
“We are all in danger…” He repeated, with less vigour, but still insistently.
With a distressed sigh, Tim glanced over at Dick. Dick drew a deep breath and finally stepped up to his guardian.
“Don’t make Scene!” he said, coolly, but firmly under his breath, pinning Bruce to the chair. “Don’t embarrass us more than what you usually do”.
**

Cassandra decided to throw caution to the wind. Grabbing the handles of Barbara’s chair, she tried frantically for an exit.

In his own way, Dick had more pride than Jason, and Jason was going to be mad enough she’d witnessed this. And it was about to get worse, as Talia was making her way through the crowd, using her increased mass to propel her.

Her eyes were slits as she approached them, and her face is white. Despite Jason’s and Tim’s attempts to stop her, she stood, like a tigress towering above him.

“When I got your message,” she hissed. “I thought you wanted to talk about this. That you had considered what I told you.” Words, or at least English ones, seemed to fail her. She hissed something that was probably a curse and lifted her hand as though to strike him, but instead just walked away, sobbing.

Elliot was also cutting his way through the crowd, his face concerned.  He gently pushed Jason and Tim out of the way.

“Bruce,” he said, softly, kneeling down beside the chair.

The vivid blue eyes gazed up at him, the pupil’s unnaturally wide.

“Get away from me.” The words came rasping, and if possible the pupils widened.

“Bruce what have you taken?” he asked firmly, ignoring Dick’s gasp. There was no way this was caused by alcohol.  He reached out and gasped Bruce’s arm to try and get the pulse. A foot made contact with his ribs. Struggling back, he glanced around, relieved to spot Harvey Dent and Sasha making their way through the crowd. Slowly he turned to Dick.

“Can one of you make sure Cassandra gets home safely?”

It didn’t look like he was going to be leaving anytime soon.

*

His struggle became more desperate as two face and Hush both came at him. Dick’s hand was strong on his shoulder, he couldn’t break free.

He can sense the eyes of the three boys on him. They’re ashamed of him… all the three of them… they despise him...
And all the three of them are absolutely honest when they say that he’s not Batman.
He’s not the Caped Crusader, a hero, he’s…

Bruce Wayne.
The concept - all of a sudden - makes his strength fail.

Elliot glanced at Harvey as Bruce goes limp against him. His fingers fumbled as he checked for a pulse. There’s one, but it’s too full, too strong, too fast.
The Joker kept conducting the band, waving his crowbar and splashing blood all over the musicians, who are playing wildly now, like wind-up puppets. If possible, the music seems louder.
Bruce Wayne. Distracted billionaire… inveterate playboy...
The acknowledgement plunges deep inside him and makes him chill to the bones.

“Get an ambulance NOW!” Elliot barked, tearing at the shirt collar.

Bruce Wayne.
Faulty parent… weak man…
“Just hang on Bruce; you’re going to be fine.” Elliot glanced up.  
I am Bruce Wayne.
“Get the kids out of here. They don’t need to see this.”
Nobody else
TBC