Crisis mode kept his body moving and his mind focused, his emotions deep-sixed for the sake of simply functioning. The scared child inside himself would raise his head only to be beaten down by the levelheaded adult. His siblings needed him to be a rock steady presence. Alfred needed him to respond quickly and efficiently. Bruce needed not to waste what little energy he had left consoling his children.
On the third day, his feelings violently resurrected themselves. Alone in his Bludhaven apartment, he surveyed the state of his kitchen. Dirty dishes sat in the sink. There were cereal boxes on the kitchen table he still hadn’t put away from his last trip to the grocery store. He knew there was moldy food in the refrigerator that needed pitching. The longer he stood there, the more chores came to mind.
Dirty laundry was overflowing the hamper. The living room looked like a bomb had gone off after his last gaming session with Tim. He needed to call and update his Lieutenant, extend his leave of absence. Coordinate with Alfred to make sure his calendar contained all of Bruce’s future appointments. Ask Tim about the upcoming board meeting. Sit down with Damian. Track down Cass.
The longer he stood there, the less it all mattered.
His father had cancer.
His father had… cancer.
And life dared go on?
Time kept advancing?
His trash needed taking out?
His dishes required cleaning?
The sound of ceramic shattering followed the unleashing of his anger. The mug exploded against the wall, broken pieces showering to the floor. His mouth was open a second later, screaming as the disaster manifested itself beneath the roof of his soul. Anger at the world. Circumstances. Unfairness. The depth of unspoken love for his father. Fear. Sadness. Grief. It swelled up into a hurricane and anything that could be thrown, smashed, or destroyed in that little hole of a home flew in the midst of his mindless thrashing. Without a single thought, he grabbed hold of the dinning room table and flipped it.
Strong arms encircled him out of nowhere, pulling him back and away from the destruction. Instinct kicked in and Dick moved with the momentum, rushing his attacker further back and slamming him into the refrigerator door. The strong arms were unrelenting. They dragged him down, down, down until he was leaning back into his brother’s chest. Screaming became a river of sobbing tears, crying he couldn’t keep inside a moment longer.
Jason held him as the storm raged.
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