What is crying exactly?
Some say it's a biological response to stress or extreme forms of stimuli. Like laughter, anger or sadness. Tiny little ducts at the inner most edge of the eye, most commonly known as the lacrimal gland.
In some cultures, crying was encourage for the human aspect that it was. After all, what human has never felt distraught, furious or joyous? But for other people, it was a sign of weakness.
A sign of lacking self control to allow those drops of liquid to leave from their confines. Believing that really strength came from the ability to force everything and die with those emotions shoved down to the deepest depths with in themselves.
Crying was a natural act. Using those tears to wash the soul and cleanse the mind for another round in the ring with life. And if it required heaving up some bits of lung matter, or looking like an absolute mess then so be it. At the end of the day, it was better out than in.
Despite knowing that, it didn't change how Albert felt in that moment.
Like a pair of icy hands gripping his lungs, breathes came out ragged and short. Stuttering every few moments as he slurped back up the line of drool that threatened to completely ruin his pants.
Each inhale sent his spine to rattling, shoulders shaking heavily as he resisted the urge to just fall back and muffle himself in some pillows.
Fat tears, the size of walnuts rolled down his cheeks. Hot and near searing as they left wet trails in their wake. Nearly filling his palms before he finally rubbed a sore hand on his pants legs, eyes darting up for just a moment to see how screwed he was.
From his position, he could perfectly see the main door without anyone being able to see him in kind. Sure, they would see the lain out suit jacket, see and hear him sobbing like a baby but it would be impossible for anyone to see him using the mirror's reflection.
It was good thing he was already crying, or else what he saw would've sent him into something near hysterical.
There, in the dark hallways stood a figure. Standing hunched as still as a statue, frozen in motion as they slowly stalked his way. The man didn't look to be beyond thirty in age, with a narrow face and skin as a pale as paper. Short cropped brown hair combed back with some degree of hair gel to give him a more refined look. Matching his crisp three piece black suit that appeared more expensive than anything Albert could anytime soon. But no matter how dignified this person might've appeared, those eyes...those eyes spoke of a different story.
Turning his gaze away, the teen felt even more tears stream down his face. It's previous stream now quickening in tempo as fear gripped him in a vice. This wasn't the first time he'd felt so helpless sense coming to this world. Black Mask holding him at gunpoint, the night against Killer Croc and even lying on that floor as an enraged father almost cracked his skull open like a walnut. But for some reason, this felt different. He never felt to need to cry when facing any one of those events...maybe it was because it felt like he was being hunted.
Like he'd been reduced to that of a prey animal, hopeless to do anything but flee and pray as something in darkness caught his scent and refused to let him go without their chunk of flesh. Fighting wouldn't work there, especially with the servant's apparent skill.
'How the hell did he get inside?' It was a question that he wasn't too sure if he truly wanted to know the answer to. 'There wasn't even a click or anything!'
He didn't know how, but somehow the pale man had slipped into his room without him ever knowing the wiser. No sound of metal turning, nor the soft click of pieces falling back into place. Not even the light echo of wood clashing against wood. A specter, an apt name.
A shiver, cold and piercing spread up from the middle of his back and rattled through his rib-cage.
'Maybe grim reaper would be better.'
It was easy to imagine what would happen if he were to try turning and confront them, like watching a movie. From behind his leaking lids, the scene played out.
His back turning, neck craning as he looked behind him. Locking gazes with a monster in human flesh, who would've already seen the neck movement to have already launched himself forward with the agility of hyena. With no time to react, they would be well within arm's reach of each other...and that's when the vision could split off into multiple directions. Maybe he would strike out with a knife had to knock out the teen, or slither behind the helpless prey and strangle consciousness from his lungs. Whatever happened to him after that would surely be far worse than the quick death they could obviously deal.
There wouldn't be a knife, especially if they didn't want to leave evidence behind. Whether it be from a broken neck or an air bubbled forced into his veins to induce a stroke, the end would be quick.
'How close is he?'
Just imagining all the paths this could branch out into was enough for that itchy spot in the middle of his back to grow to a fever's pitch. Like ants were crawling beneath his skin, their tiny legs dancing and pincers pinching at skin. And maybe, it was just his imagination but he swore he could feel warm breathe blasting against the back of his neck.
The need was growing with each passing moment, reason dropping in volume as that irrational feeling welled up deep within his soul. Combating against the healing out-poor that was far too late to reign in, he'd allowed those floodgate to fly open and now, until the stream ran it's course, pulling them back into place was an impossible task.
'One look.'
From behind cupped hands, bleary eyes flickered to the mirror. Sniffling up another deluge of snot, he observed yet another chilling sight.
The man was disappearing from view. Not in the water of anything supernatural or anything but more like, slipping out from the angle itself. An arm and shoulder slithering from his sight.
Flicking his gaze back, he didn't hold back his body from shaking. Nor did he even try to control the gasping breathes interspersed between sobs, coating his hand and wrist in tears. Drool dripping down to mix with the small puddle forming in his lap.
He could feel him. Feel that presence hover right over his shoulder, feel those hands outstretched in a ready manner. Strong fingers all too prepared and practiced in strangling the life out of someone or breaking their necks. A single mess up would spell the end of his tale.
Shrinking in further on himself, he sunk fully into those ethereal scales. Allowing the quiet and cold whispers from his right shoulder to turn into a shout, subtlety shifting his body to match the required profile. Weaving a tale with nothing but his body language.
Albert was a weak and insecure teenager. He was ugly, awkward and poor. Someone who'd foolishly thought some girl far out of his league would ever deign to look in his general direction. Who'd been all too ready to drop everything for his crush at even the earliest warning. A people pleaser, a person whose been stepped on and take advantage of for all his life. Not someone to be pitied, for he knows they're taking advantage of his inability to say no but does so anyway. No, he's someone to be treated with vitriol.
At least, that's what he believes. Believes deep down that the only worth to his life is the happiness and ease of life he can give to other people. Even at the expense of his own physical or mental health.
But then, for some odd reason an absolute gorgeous took pity on him and decided to give him a second look. And even invited him as a plus one, to a swanky party no less. Somewhere he would've never been able to dream about entering. Not even as a staff member.
And maybe, during this time he'd been blind to the fact that she only did this out of pity. Not for genuine affection but to possibly make herself look better in-front of her new peers. But when that Wayne, a guy that was everything he wasn't showed up. He'd been tossed aside like yesterday's trash. Fueled by foolishness and that fiery passion of youth, he had forgotten himself.
Forgotten his place in this world and been viciously ripped back down to Earth. How dare he assume someone like Barbara would honestly be interested in him? This wasn't a date, but a charity case.
And now looked what happened? Their altercation spread to every ear in that party and everyone knew what he was aware of deep down inside. He was nothing and would always be nothing. A used tissue or towel. And now, all he wanted to do was find some out of the way place to hide away like a coward. Sobbing his eyes out in a way 'unbefitting' of a man.
For what kind of man would sit in a corner somewhere blubbering and sobbing like a child? Ruining his suit and only showing himself to be more pathetic than anyone could imagined.
But more importantly, not a threat in the slightest. Even if someone were to slap him across the face or stomp on him, he would not retaliate. Only believing that it was right, after all trash was still trash at the end of the day.
Sometimes, the best disguise has some degree of truth in it. He could feel it. Feel those dark thoughts crushing down on his shoulders, hear those entrancing voices calling him back to that ledge. The world slowly lost it's color, becoming gray and lifeless. Memories of laughter and friends fading away into nothingness.
It wouldn't be hard. The hardest part was always the first time. Finding another building would be easy in this dramatic rendition of New York City. The air blowing through his hair, the blur of buildings slipping past and the wide expanse of cement growin-
A knock rattled through his entire body, heavy knuckles crashing against wood with enough force to shake him out of the spiral. Coming back to himself, he quickly tried to clean himself up. Rubbing his face on a sleeve and even straightened his back from it's previous nearly fully collapsed state.
But whoever was on the other side didn't seem like the patient type and opened the door even without his say-so. Albert fully turned, vision bleary and nose runny to his impromptu guest.
There in the doorway, that same lean man looked on. Appearing like some sort of classic approximation of what a vampire would look like. With pale skin, combed back dark hair and an expensive black suit perfectly tailored to his frame. A narrow face gave him a bit of a more fierce appearance, like he was a no-nonsense type of person. In a sense, the guy was pretty handsome. Easily rivaling most of the elites who'd attended that night.
Yet, despite looking human, it was those eyes that almost completely shatter that guise. Hooded black eyes glanced down without even a hint of emotion. They blinked and moved around like any other eye, but that was it. Possessing none of the twinkle of life that everyone else possessed, it was more like a doll had been gifted life.
Just locking gazes with such a thing made Albert want to shiver anew.
"…." They just stared at each other for a moment, neither saying a thing until the teen broke first. His voice coming out hesitant and croaking like a frog in mating season. Throat dry and feeling as though he'd just got done swallowing wooden chips. "What..do you want?"
"…."
If he expected to receive a response then he would've been highly disappointed.
"We're you next door?" It was better to push, silence was a better tool in interrogations. "I didn't mean to disturb you...I'm sorry if I did. When I saw it was locked, I just-just couldn't hold it in anymore and just went here instead. But-I can leave if you want, just give a few minutes to-uh freshen up a bit."
A technical truth, if there ever was one.
Again, he waited on bated breathes. Even casting his eyes down to the ground just to avoid looking into those seemingly artificial orbs. There wasn't really a reason to look at the servant in the face, even his own skill had grown deathly silent. It's incessant whispering had nothing to say about the person before him, no micro expressions. No body language to read or anything. If not for the subtly rising and falling of the guy's chest, it would've been safe to assume that they were instead a puppet or android and not a living, breathing human.
It was mere moments, that silence growing near deafening. Crushing in from all sides as that gaze figuratively dug into his neck, almost prompting him to continue speaking. To slip up in his story and sprinkle in one too many lies to unravel this tale completely.
"Yanny honey." A female chirped from the hallway, a regal voice. Tinged full of strict lessons but holding a degree of warmth. "Follow along. I'm done here."
Without even sparing him one more glance 'Yanny', slipped out of the doorway with a soft click. Leaving him alone with cold sweat soaking through his undershirt, that specter of death finally lifting itself from his throat. Tensed muscles slowly eased their tension, falling down from a solid state to something more liquid. Bones aching, he slumped back into the bed. Marrow deep exhaustion hit him all at once in that moment, making his eyelids feel as though they were weighed down by massive anchors. Taking all his thoroughly expended willpower to just resist the urge to slumber.
"Oh and one more thing," The women that was most likely Samantha, started. Whether due to arrogance or carelessness didn't try to lower her voice in the slightest, easily allowing him to hear despite the thick door between them. "Do think of my offer, Adrian. Come along now, Yanny, I am done for the night."
"Of course, mistress."
For the first time, Albert heard that silent 'man' talk and if he expected it not to send shivers down his spine, he would've been greatly disappointed. Not surprised but still rather chilling. 'Yanny' sounded just as emotionless as he look, like his vocal cords could only ever achieve a single tone. Flat as a leveled board, hollow as an empty can and barely loud enough to be heard.
Instead of reacting verbally, the teen only laid there on that all too comfortable bed. Feeling the hidden aches and pains make themselves known as the cover's tried to pull him into their lulling embrace.
'That was too close.'
Death had been right there, right behind him and a single slip up would've spelled his end. But against all odds, he survived. But despite that, there was no triumph. No gentle dinging of the system showering him in rewards and praise, only further cementing it's apathetic nature.
But that didn't mean he hadn't gained anything from this. For one, his mind, which he could now admit was constantly clouded by doubt and trauma had lightened by a hair.
[SAN: 37/47]
It might had not moved from his bout of madness, the path to recovery had shown itself. Not by much, certainly not enough for him to begin walking that road but enough to begin figuring things out. Frankly, maybe he should be thanking this 'Yanny' character. Who knew how bad forcing down his trauma would've gotten if he'd waited much longer to begin facing it?
Certainly a tragedy waiting to happen.
Also, he was more than sure his skills must've been moved by the danger. They'd been stretched to their limit, so surely they would show some growth?
'Sta-'
Just as he was preparing to open up his status window, a gentle knock cut that command short. And just like his previous uninvited guest, this person too didn't wait for his response before opening the door and coming inside.
Bolting to attention, he turned and saw a twenty-something man dressed in once was a pristine suit. Instead, the heavy jacket was nowhere to be seen. Wearing a simple pair of black pants and a pure white long sleeve button up shirt with stylish suspenders. A loose tie hung in relaxed fashion as he leaned his head in to look at the teen.
Despite how Adriannus had treated him all through out the soiree, that despairing sneer was absent. Sure, he might still put out this air of superiority but it was significantly reduced.
Actually, the guy looked exhausted and nearing the brink.
'Who am I to judge? I probably look worse right about now.'
"You look awful."
As though reading his thoughts, the host commented. Closing the door behind him as he entered the room. Not threateningly or anything like that, in fact he even slumped further into a more relaxed stance. Leaning heavily on the door with closed eyes.
"I can say the same about you." Albert sniped back, rubbing his eyes on his sleeves. Trying to at least look somewhat presentable.
"Touché." Adriannus sighed. "And...you know these walls aren't too insulating, right? Sure they're enough to block out sound from the hallway but when you're right next door to each other…"
"Oh...you heard that?"
"Yeah." He snorted. "Samm-Samantha and I could hear you pretty well. I think that's why she wanted to leave so quickly."
"Oh." Maybe he would feel embarrassed about essentially crying in public, but he was far too mentally exhausted to give a damn then. In the morning, sure. He would be tossing and turning at the second hand shame. But now, it only made him feel mighty bit snappy. "Then what are you doing here? To mock me?"
"You're a guest." The man shrugged in way of answering. "Plus one or not, I was taught basic hospitality. And as a host, it is my job to make sure all my guests are fine."
'That was you being hospitable?'
"I'm fine, thanks."
It wouldn't do to antagonize the man. No matter how rude and dismissive he's been in the past, being the bigger man wouldn't hurt anything.
"…." Instead of nodding and leaving, or snapping back with a rebuke on how he an heir didn't need gratitude from a peasant like him. Before haughtily laughing in his face before leaving to tell all his little friends of the foolish peasant daring to treat them as equal. It was suppose to be apart of the script, but rather he just leaned up harder against the door while taking in a few deep breaths. A battle of sorts scoured across his face before one side won and he spoke up once more. "I should be the one thanking you."
"…."
He didn't know which was the bigger surprise, nearly being killed off by some highly skilled servant or an elite being humble. But either way, speaking up now would only break the spell. Remind this high society man that he was only talking to 'the poor'.
"You know my brother, that idiot, got himself in a lot of trouble recently? He's facing some serous jail time and we're trying to make sure he's not sent to Blackgate Penitentiary, Gunther won't survive in there...A lot of money has been spent to make sure of that...and even more our land had to sold just to keep his immature self out that slaughter house. We're trying our best but everyone's been working really hard to keep everything afloat. Even I, have thoroughly expended every connection I have and thoroughly isolated myself just to keep my brother safe. But that's nothing new."
The guy needed to vent and who was he to turn down free information.
"Gunther has always been the golden boy in the eyes of my parents, someone who could do no wrong simply because of his genius. Hell, it was due to how talented he was that we were going to try and break into the tech field! But now? That hope's been dashed. And our parent's, who still see him as a naughty child despite being thirty-one for heaven's sake, hasn't been much help! I believe he needs to learn his lesson, that his sins won't be swept under the rung just because our parents can wave some money to make it all go away! But...not Blackgate. Never that place. Somewhere else, like a rehabilitation center with actual therapist to help him grow up!"
"But Sammy...well, I guess I can't blame her for taking advantage of the situation. We've all done it before, so why should she act any different… She got a bit uncomfortable with you...uh crying and it ruined the mood for her. So, yeah thank you. I'm willing to do anything to make sure my brother and family gets out of this in one piece but...it would've been painful to do what she wanted."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
Even though Albert kinda gathered that the Hardwicks had fallen on hard times and were nearing the end of their limit, hearing it directly from a primary source was plain foolishness. They surely must've gained enemies in their long standing, and the news outlet would eat a story like this for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even have leftovers for the next day.
"Who are you going to tell? The news? My family's enemies? I'm saying this in the nicest way possibly, but you do not have the pull required to make use of any of this. No one would believe you without some proof and even if you had recorded this entire conversation, everyone would still be too wary to run with the story."
"Oh."
It was true, who was he to begin with? Some unknown kid from the streets and if he were to try and sell this story, it would go in one ear and out the other. Not only would he be ignored but also, the full team of lawyers would be circling around like he was injured prey.
"Oh indeed." Adriannus nodded, a mock sage expression across his face. "Since we're asking questions, let me ask one. Why are you here? I know for sure there were plenty of rooms you could've slunk off to, so why come here?"
"Well…" The desire to lie was great but then he had a thought, why should he try to protect Patrick? The guy had rubbed him the wrong way with those threats, so any form of civility has long since been gone. Instead, it was time to get a little bit of payback. "It started like this-"
And thus, he began to tell his tale. Going into deep detail as he explained the steps he took that wound up with him in that bed. With, of course a few alterations. For one, he obviously didn't mention his talent nor Fortunecraft and secondly, he really played up the panic he felt while frantically searching the halls.
"-I was already stressed from..what happened with Barbara and with his threat over my head, it got to be bit too much. I needed somewhere to hide..to breakdown without being judged. At first, I chose your door out of sheer luck and picked this room when I saw it was locked. I guess the rest is history."
The man didn't speak during his quick rendition, instead only looked at the ceiling while rubbing at his temple.
"Well, firstly I tell you this. Patrick is not Samantha's fiancee."
"He's not?"
It felt like a gut punch, a sudden and brutal blow that threatened to force him to expel the sea food from within his stomach. He'd been tricked? How? Shouldn't his skill had easily sniffed it out?
"He believes he is, probably due to his father but they're not engaged. From what I heard, his father took an offhand comment from Mr. Winstanley as a matter of fact and has been trying to use that force himself into his inner circle. It won't work. Samantha's father is very protective of her, especially after….no, that's not for you to know, just know there's no way he's going to force her to marry anyone."
"So what you're saying...I did all this for nothing?"
"You sure did." He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Just be glad you didn't actually succeed. If you had, Patrick wouldn't have been able or willing to protect you. You would've gained the ire of everyone here. And let me tell you, leaving Gotham wouldn't have saved you."
'Oh, you're so getting blacklisted Patrick Moore. I sure hope you're behind one of my cases, I can't wait to drag those skeletons out of your closet kicking and screaming.'
His once numb self felt as if a fuse had been lit, a warm welling up in his chest as a pulsating anger began to stew. As not only had the wannabe gangster's ignorance slipped under the radar of one of his most important skills but that idiot had nearly gotten Albert 'disappeared' by a bunch of elites. So yeah, it was safe to say he was not a happy camper in that moment.
But it seemed his host wasn't done.
"Cheer up," The man stood up from the door. Patting down his wrinkled suit with pip in his step. As though the suffering of those less fortunate had rejuvenated him. "That's what could've happened. Her servant would've broken your hand and phone before you could've even tried. So, you dodged a major bullet. Samantha's going to hear about this of course, not from me but probably from one of those sniveling cowards hanging around Patrick...And is probably going to seek you out before you leave. She's eccentric enough that it could go either way. Thank you again for listening to me rant but as your host, I must tell you to clean yourself up before going back to the soiree. You look positively horrendous."