Work Text:
Arkham had many different rehabilitation plans over the years. Zen circles, the short lived horse therapy, the even shorter lived rage room therapy.
But now, rehabilitation came in the form of tutoring with Ed being assigned to tutor high school students on various subjects. He wouldn’t admit it but teenagers are scary to him, mostly due to his high school memories being flooded with his peers bullying him to seemingly no end. But all that fear was nothing compared to the five years that’s being shaved off his sentence if he played teacher.
There was one kid in particular, whose name escaped Edward in the sea of other kids he had to deal with, that was having a difficult time grasping her homework material. She wasn’t dumb, Ed assumed that was the case at first but upon further examination it seemed the kid just had a lot going on with extra classes and afterschool lessons. The poor kid barely had a moment to breathe in her schedule.
It all came to a head when she collapsed into the classroom, Ed yelped and ran over to drag her onto a chair before getting her some water from the nearest vending machine.
She’s 17.
She’s a child and she’s barely got time to think about acting her age.
Ed just sat there and stared at this kid. The more he stared at her the more he saw himself. The more he saw that little boy his father showed off to his peers like a trophy, his accomplishments were his father’s, his extra curricular activities were what molded him into his father’s image.
His life was never planned to be his own.
When the teenager woke up, Ed’s eyes were threatening to spill tears he refused to let fall.
“Parents don’t know you’re a person sometimes,” he said softly to her, “just catch up on some rest I can just write you a packet or something I- you… take care of yourself, you’re important or something.”
The teenager just nodded as Ed walked to the other side of the room to definitely not cry.
Because he’s not that kid. Not anymore.