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It had taken years and years, but things had finally started to get better. Damian had been so good, so perfect. He said the right things, and got the right grades. He acted properly and he did everything right.
He socialized with the right people, he focused on his studies, and slowly began to gather Stellas like his brother had. And so, him mom was happy, and his dad was appeased. They fought less, and less, until it was almost like they never fought at all.
There was a fear in the Desmond house that had seemed to fade as Damian aged. He didn’t dare trust it, not at first. Not after so long with this darkness in his home.
But… over time, home wasn’t somewhere he dreaded to return to. It felt.. normal. It felt like Anya’s tiny little apartment. Full of life. Warm.
“You seem excited to return, master Damian,” Jeeves said as Damian slipped into the car, nearly hitting his head as he did.
“Well, mother and father have both requested to share dinner with me this evening… together. Although,” his eyes drifted to his backpack, and the recent test grade burning a hole within it. He didn’t finish his sentence, and the butler didn’t push. The car was filled with its usual hum and the sound of the anxious tapping of Damian’s foot.
——
“Master Damian,” he paused at the quiet words, hand on the car door, bag already slung over one shoulder. “Your mother has been having a difficult time.”
He felt the world go quiet and still. A wave of calm washing over him, and bringing a chill that wasn’t just the air. He pressed his lips together and nodded.
“Okay,” he said just as quietly. “Thank you.”
——
“Show me the test score, Damian,” his father demanded half way through the meal. He sat, his back straight, chin but, and forced himself not to wince at the command.
“Of course,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket and stiffly bringing it to the man. There was a beat as he looked it over, and Damian sat.
“Hm,” Damian heard the disproval in it. Saw the darkening of his father’s gaze. His fingers felt as numb as his mind.
“Don’t blame him! He’s trying his best, aren’t you baby? He’s been getting good marks this whole time! This is an issues with his teacher!”
“Eden teachers are not prone to mistakes.”
“Donovan-“ his mother started to crack. To fracture apart. Her eyes getting wild as she shrank away from her husband.
Damian stopped listening, his mind drifting away, away, away.
——
“There is something very wrong with your father. You must be careful of him, alright?”
She’d had the same look in her eyes the first time she’d told him that. Just like she had when he’d returned and found that Jeeves was unfortunately right.
——
“You’re not the man I married!” She’s standing now, as if about to leave. “You’re not my husband!”
“Mother, please. Father is not going to do anything rash, here, have some tea, calm yourself.”
It’s Demetrius who stops her. Damian had almost forgotten his older brother was there. The man had perfected the art of being silent, and going unnoticed, but now he stood, pushing a cup of tea towards their mother. She hesitated.
“Melinda, sit, please. Have some tea, Demetrius is correct, it will calm you.”
The tension in the room built for a long, long, long, moment. Then she blinked once, and her demeanor changed. She plastered on a still smile, straightened her back, and sat, and Damian watched as, hands shaking, she drank. Nobody moved.
“Damian, your father and I are disappointed in your grade. Please try and do better next time,” she said, her gaze still straight ahead, locked on his father.
“Of course mother.”
“Father, I believe we are finished with our meal, may mother and I be excused?”
“Yes. Or course,” he replied. Demetrius nodded and stood, coming to their mother’s side and offering her his arm. Damian stood and started to follow them out. His father didn’t stop him.
“That’s not Donovan,” their mother was murmuring as Damian exited the huge dining room, the doors shutting with a thunk.
“I know mother,” Demetrius assured her. “Jeeves!” The butler was there in a moment. Damian frowned, why was Demetrius calling for the man?
“Damian,” his older brother voice was serious as his attention turned to the teen. “I’m sure father wants to discuss your grade with him. It is very out of character for you, he’s surely worried.”
“What? He didn’t request to see me-“
“Stay away from that cr’ture boys,” his mothers words started to slur and his heart pounded
“Damian, go,” his brother commanded. But Demetrius didn’t have authority over him like he’s used to.
“No, I’m staying with mom!” Demetrius started to say something put suddenly their mother is slumping to the ground and Jeeves has his arm wrapped around her, Demetrius on her other side.
“Shit,” Demetrius mumbled, sounding more irritated than worried. Damian’s eyes went wide. He’d never heard his brother swear.
“I believe mistress’s tea is affecting her sooner than we thought. Come, let’s get her to bed. Mary Jane will take care of her from there.”
“Why are you both so calm, mother just-“ he blinked. “Her tea.”
Suddenly Damian knows. And the darkness is back. The air the house changes. And Damian became numb to it all. He simply watched as his older brother and the butler carried his half-conscious mother to her room. Then he turned on his heel and went to explain his failure to his father, marching like a soldier to his death.
——
“Are you alright Damain?” Ewen asked, frowning.
“You don’t look so good? Was your weekend bad?” Emile added.
“I’m okay. I’ve just been focusing on my studies,” he told them.
“If you say so,” Emile said with a shrug.
“Let us know if we can help,” Ewen said, clapping him on the shoulder before heading off to class. Damian gave his friends a nod before going his own way, slipping into his seat next to Anya.
“How was your weekend, Anya?” He asked, like he had for ages now. She didn’t respond, just stared at him for a moment with that look she got when she was reading him a little too well.”
“Better than yours.”
——
“Something’s wrong with Sy-on, papa,” Anya said the moment she got home. Loid looked up from his paperwork with a frown.
“What do you mean?”
“I think the Desmonds had a big fight. He’s all sad and stuff.”
“He’s sad?” Her father prompted. Anya hesitated.
“No. I- I don’t think he’s sad he’s just. He’s acting like.. like he used to. I.. papa I don’t know. It’s like he doesn’t feel anything,” she whispered, like admitting it would somehow hurt the boy, even though he was far away.
“I see. I know he hasn’t always had a good relationship with his parents.”
“I know. It’s why I’m worried.. what if it gets worse? What if he gets worse?”
“It depends, Anya,” Loid shut his binder and fully turned to face her. “What do you want to do about it? If you think he needs it, I can try to get his parents to let me or one of my coworkers sit down with him. You could also talk to him, you mean a lot to that boy, and I think he would open up to you.”
“He needs to decide, doesn’t he? If he wants help? That’s what you always say.”
“That’s very mature of you Anya. Do you still have those extra business cards I gave you after I visited your class?”
“Yes I do. I’ll give him one.”
“Just remember kiddo, your job isn’t to fix him.”
“I know, papa, thank you.”
——
Two days later Damian is sitting in front of Mr. Forger, hands curled in his pockets, back straight, posture stiff. Loid tried his best to seem approachable, his shoulders dropped, his face softening a little, even as the boy refused to look him in the eye.
“I’m a little surprised you requested me, Damian. Usually patients don’t like knowing their therapist in their personal lives.”
“You already know a lot, I assume. You’re a smart man, and I’m sure Anya has told you some things. I thought maybe it’d be easier. To- to talk about stuff. If I didn’t need to explain. I know my mom came to you once. And I kinda remember when Anya first came to Eden you talked to my dad.”
“I’m not supposed to discuss who my patiences are, but I have talked to your father a few times,” he acknowledged. Damian looked up, slowly.
“I’m very grateful to you Mister Forger- er, Doctor..”
“You can call me Loid, Damian. It’s alright,” he said with a small, reassuring smile.
“I’m grateful, Loid. You’ve helped my parents a lot. You-“ Damian swallowed. “You’ve helped me a lot. I don’t think I really knew what a family was supposed to be like until you let me stay for dinner. You, I mean, it’s because of you, and I mean also your wife and Anya too, that my family was even close to normal.”
“I’m honored that you think we had such an impact on you, and that your relationship with your family is better. But, what do you mean by was?” Loid prompted as Damian turned away again, scrubbing and his eyes.
“It took a long time,” Damian replied. Loid just waited, giving the kid time. “To heal, y’know? The fight stopped, and- and the fear kind of faded, and I didn’t trust it. I mean it was so normal, and peace felt weird.”
“But…” Damian paused to wipe a tear from his eye before it could fall. He wrapped his arms around himself before he continued. “It took months. Months of nothing passing by. I finally actually believed we were better. That it was over.”
“Now it’s so much worse. The screaming, and her terror, and my brother he- he- it’s like it was nothing, and- and I just sat there like I used to and just, I don’t know, tuned it all out? I watched her- and then they just- and I felt nothing at all,” Damian finished through sobs. He pulled his knees up, curling in on himself, despite his now-long legs.
“It’s going to be alright,” Loid soothed.
“I’m sorry,” the kid responded, voice small. “It’s- it’s not even that bad I mean, I don’t even remember most of the fighting. I never remember what they say during the bad fights. Not very well at least.”
“I see,” Loid tried to keep the worry from his tone. He didn’t want to scare Damian, or contradict him as he tried to be positive, but his mind blacking out memories was bad. That, alongside trauma that had turned the kid numb to the fighting was worrisome.
“It’s bad isn’t it?” Damian asked with a sniff. “I know it’s not supposed to be like this. We’re a pretty messed up family, huh?” He said with a wet laugh.
“No, it’s not supposed to be like that. But it won’t be forever. We’ll figure out how we can help. Not just you, but your parents as well,” he promised, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. It was a promise he was determined to keep.
“You’ve helped them before, I know you’ll find away to help me,” Damian said with a tiny smile. Loid only nodded.