"Non lo so, figliolo..." Your Grandfather wanes. "This place, is it the place for a child?"

"Thought he was a man?"

"He is at the age he can SPEAK like a man. There is big difference."

"We'll be careful, Pop. Keep an eye out for anything shady, I just want my boy to be able to sleep at night. I want him to be able to go to school for more than a few months at a time before the voices start telling him his teacher's husband is cheating or showing him visions of all sorts of non-sense." He sighs, outside your view your grandfather puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I just want him to be able to have a normal life, Pop."

"I know, figliolo... I know." He comforts. "Being a father is not easy. But you do a good job of it. Mark, he is a good boy. Kind, even if he shares your temper."

"OUR temper." Your father corrects. "I just don't wanna mess him up and right now the people giving us the best shot are the people at Arkham..."

You blink.

The industrial lights of the basement leave your vision blurred as you lean up from a pile of crushed cardboard and feel a tight knot in your lower back squeeze panfully.

"Wha?" You groan as you lift a hand to block the light.

"Mark." A familiar voice calls out.

"Wakey wakey, slick." A gruffer voice calls.

"Hawthorne?" You mumble.

"And company." He says, stepping into the room trailed by Grey. "We come with some good news."

"Yeah? Was last night all just a dream?" You grunt as you grasp his hand and he yanks you to your feet where you wobble for a moment.

"Not quite." Grey chimes in. "But the surgery was a success. He pulled through and woke up a few hours ago."

That news snaps you awake.

"He made it?"

"He made it." Grey confirms.

"What about the investigation? Has he talked to anyone yet? Has he given his statement? Did he say i-"

"Stop." Hawthorne says firmly holding up a hand. "He wasn't in the shape to answer questions, woke up around seven this morning awfully confused why he was handcuffed to the bed."

"Current opinion of IA is that this is the work of Jervis Tetch, goes by Mad Hatter." Grey offers.

"Hatter? Jervis?" You repeat.

"Stupid fuckin name." Hawthorne spits. "Freak we picked up years back, serial kidnapping cases all over the city. Over ten girls between thirteen and sixteen, real sick sack of shit. Was apart of the last break-out."

"So what's that mean for me?"

"We don't know yet, but we were told to pass something along to you." Grey says. "The victim, Mr. Papeti, he says he wants to talk to you if you'd be willing to visit Gotham General. But Irons would be there with you, anything you guys talked about would be considered in your case."

>"Who cares about Irons, can we go now?"
>"I don't think that's the best idea. I don't wanna mess anything up or give IA any ammo against me."
>"I'm not gonna visit him until he's given a statement and IA clears me up, once that's done I'd be glad to meet him.
>Write-In


Song from the dream: https://youtu.be/grDlxUTKQt8

>>6244551

"I can't tell you anything specific.." You begin.

"Ah, Mark-" Your father groans but you wave a hand to stop that.

"Pop, it's an open investigation. I can't tell you specifics but I can say... yeah. I'd keep it close by. I'll also be looking into having the Sheriff's Department set up outside the house until this blows over."

"Per l'amor di Dio, Mark." Your dad says slicking his hair back with a free hand. "Alright, I'll dust the old thing off."

"Yeah well, just promise me you'll work with and tell the deputies who come by that you've got it. Also when's the last time you cleaned Nonno's rifle?"

"Why do I gotta clean it? Not like I been firing it."

"Pop.." You sigh, forming a slight grin despite your worry. "Look, I know a guy. Runs the range for GCPD, used to be in SWAT before he retired, he might have the time to come out there and make sure that thing doesn't blow up in your hands if you have to use it."

"God forbid." Your father mumbles, making the sign of the cross.

"Yeah... I'm sorry. But when it's all wrapped up I'll tell you more. I promise."

"I know, I get it. Just... you're so much like your nonno that sometimes I worry you'll get the bad things too."

"Bad things?"

"You were too young. But the war was hard on him, a lot of the things they asked him to do, just never sat right with him. Your mother and I, we talked to him about coming to America not just to help us out but also because I thought he needed to be around family. First time he saw you, he lit up like I hadn't seen for too long, you two were inseparable after that. Best friends..." He trails off, eyes slightly misty as he smiles a bittersweet grin.

"I'm.. uh." He wipes the corner of his eye with his thumb. "I'm just saying don't be afraid to lean on people if you need it. I know, open investigation and all, but I'm always gonna be here for you."

He steps in and gives you one of his classic bear hugs, going easy when you wheeze slightly.

"Thanks, Pop." You mumble into his shoulder.

"I'm proud of ya." He adds on with another squeeze before straightening up and taking a step for the door. "I should get back to your mom before she drives your girl crazy."

"Yeah.." You chuckle, suddenly lifting a hand. "Eh, wait a sec. I do have one more question.."

"Hm?"

"Allison... Dame or Broad?"

He pauses for a minute, eyebrows bumping up in surprise before a cheeky grin spreads across his face. He opens the door and steps half in.

"I already told ya I was proud of you.." He says before disappearing with a sleavy chuckle.

You laugh yourself and watch him head to the elevator...

====