Chapter Text
When Liu saw the footage of Dick Grayson’s funeral, she saw his family, eyes downcast in a corner, none of them looking up but one. He was the youngest, staring straight at the coffin, and she could see even from the video that his eyes were dry. When it was his turn to give a speech, he didn’t. Instead, still staring at the coffin, he said “Goodbye, Baba” and that was it.
Liu wasn’t sure why the boy bothered her so much, why she couldn’t stop watching him, even as he stood to the side with his fists clenched, doing nothing, for the rest of the family speeches. It was only when he left during friend’s speeches, disappeared somewhere so quickly the cameras didn’t catch him, that she turned off the TV, collapsing into the couch. Her head drooped sideways and met with Niao’s, who she hadn’t noticed slip onto the couch. She must have been pretty out of it.
“What was that,” her daughter asked, and when Liu looked up at her she realized what had bothered her so much about the boy. He looked like he was the same age as her Nee, he had the same jet black hair, and he’d called Dick Grayson Baba.
Liu had never felt bad about what she’d done, it was what she had to do, and she never regretted what came after it, never regretted Nee, but suddenly, with Dick Grayson having breathed his last, she felt guilty about something else entirely. Nee had never gotten to know her father, and now she couldn’t, because her father was dead.
She would have loved him, Liu thought, picturing the boy who hadn’t cried but showed his love for his Baba in his two word sentence, picturing the thirteen year old Dick, homeless and angry and so much like Nee it hurt to think about what she’d done. She didn’t generally feel bad about it because it brought her her daughter, but whenever she looks at Nee and remembers that her daughter was the same age as he had been, a hole in her heart that used to be a pinprick opens up just a little more. Nee was so much like him, she would have loved him, she….
She deserved to know about him, about her father.
“The man who died,” Nee snapped to attention when she started talking, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. Liu pulled her closer, carding a hand through her dark locks, savoring the way she leaned against her, pure love and trust and softness that Dick Grayson had never had the chance to be. “The man who died was your dad.”
“Let me tell you about him.”
_ _ _
“He was thirteen” Mom said, eyes swirling with a thousand emotions but no regret, and Niao’s world fell out from under her.
_ _ _
Usually, Niao was a bright student, always bubbly and kind, with a restless energy and an intelligence that didn’t match her grades.
Today, however, she was none of those things.
Mrs. Mackenzie was worried, her bright student was quiet the whole class period, not fidgeting at all, not chatting with her neighbors, just staring blankly out the window until the bell rang for lunch.
Then, as the students filed out, she walked up to Mrs. Mackenzie’s desk, watching as the last few students disappeared, and Mrs. Mackenzie, watching her chew her lip nervously, only felt her concern grow. Once the last student was gone, she dusted her blackboard and sat down at her desk, gesturing for Niao to pull up a chair.
“What’s up,” she asked gently, and waited as her student continued to chew her lip, allowing her the time to form an answer.”
“You’re a nice teacher,” Niao said slowly, “and I trust you. I need to ask for your advice on something, but you can’t tell anyone.”
Mrs. Mackenzie nodded, her chest warming at the thought that her students trusted her enough to tell her things. “I can’t promise that if it’s something that endangered you or another student, but I will try my best, okay.” Niao, to her relief, still seemed like she wanted to talk.
“Mo- my mother,” she stumbled on the word, for some reason, “She told me. She told me,” a deep breath, and Mrs. Mackenzie waited as she steadied herself. “She told me she raped a teenager to get information out of him and that’s how I was born…”
She couldn’t stop the sharp gasp that escaped her, and Niao looked up, face betraying her emotions: she was scared and nervous and guilty for something she had no control over. Forcing down her shock, Mrs. Mackenzie plastered on a comforting smile, signaling for her student to finish her sentence.
“She never told me about him, my dad, and now he’s dead, but… But he has a family who’s still alive, and I want to meet them, want to know what my father was like, but what if…What if they hate me or, or blame me for what happened, what if-”
“Niao, calm down, none of this is your fault. They may not want to have anything to do with you, I can’t lie to you about that, but you have no way of knowing, and even if they do blame you, it doesn’t make you guilty.You did nothing wrong, you weren’t even alive then.” She waited as her student took large gulps of air, fingers running through her hair, allowing her the time to compose herself as her breathing slowed down.
“I- I want to meet them, but I can’t ask mom, she..she..” another pause.
“He was my age when it happened,” Her voice broke, and her eyes were frantic; Round and wet as she stared at Mrs. Mackenzie, her breathing just a little too fast. She was so young. Only thirteen. Mrs. Mackenzie couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt a child that young. She couldn’t imagine letting one of her students near someone like that, even if it was their own parent.
“Do you need to get out? Away from her?” She asked, keeping her voice gentle, unprovoking. She knew, at the end of the day, if the mother hadn’t hurt her, then it had to be Niao’s choice.
Niao shook her head so hard Mrs. Mackenzie watched her blink the stars out of her eyes afterwards. “No, no! You can’t tell anyone about what she…I just. I need to meet his family, I have to be the one to…”
“Okay. Maybe I can help, can you tell me who the father is, who his family is?”
“It’s” she suddenly looked reluctant again, “they’re pretty famous.”
“You can tell me.”
“My dad’s…My dad’s Dick Grayson. His family are the Waynes.”
And wow, she was right. They were famous.
Her student was the illegitimate child of the just dead Prince of Gotham. He lived less than an hour away from their school. If the truth got out and the family didn’t accept her, it could ruin Niao’s life, her future.
“Don’t tell, please,” Mrs Mackenzie realized she’d been silent too long, and Niao was panicking, hands so tight around each other her skin was three shades paler.
“Of course I won’t,” She may have been contemplating it earlier, but this was before she found out the father was Bruce Wayne’s dead ward, one of the most loved men in Gotham. No, as much as she hated it, she had to stay silent for Niao’s sake, at leats until the girl decided what she wanted to do.
_ _ _
This was Gotham, the schools were different. So when Mrs. Mackenzie offered to drive Niao to the Wayne manor when she was ready, Niao wasn’t worried about her intentions, or that she’d get fired. Instead, Niao said, “I’ll think about it,” and, having already missed lunch, went on to her fifth period class.
_ _ _
Thirty-seven days later on a Friday, having spent all her free time at the library computers, with printed information of the Wayne’s in her hands and having told her mother she was going over to a friend’s house for the weekend, Niao told Mrs. Mackenzie she was ready.