Milk And Cardamom | S. Brown ✔

[01]

Silver eyes flickered towards the injured little form of her brother, her heart churning in pain to see him thus. And even though she was injured herself, she no longer cared about anything or anyone other than her wounded brother.

"Father, is he going to be okay?" Her hand gently brushed the deep brown hair away from his face, concern deepening as she checked the faint pulse.

"He will be."

Deathstroke patched up the wounds on his son cautiously, looking after Rose's injuries as well. Then he left for a while, returning with a syringe filled with a strangely colored liquid.

"What are you doing?"

"Healing him," the reply was vague as the needle punctured into the boy's skin, the liquid getting absorbed within shortly after.

He dabbed away the excess liquid and trace of blood with the cotton soaked in antiseptic. And then he stood up at last, eye flickering towards his daughter.

"He will sleep off the effects ideally. But if he wakes up, you are to call me. Understand?"

She nodded, "yes, Father."

"Good. And don't worry too much, he will be fine."

She watched him leave the room, her attention returning to her brother afterwards. She couldn't see him in so much pain.

She had seen him struggle against everything their father put them through and while Rose had been comparatively more accepting towards the situation, Lucas couldn't bring himself to come to terms with it.

And she couldn't blame him for that either. Everything Slade Wilson had taught them was against what the child had been taught from an even earlier age, against every word of advice he recalled from his mother.

Rose didn't know much about the woman who had given birth to him, except for the fact that she was as opposite to the mercenary as possible. All she knew about her was from the wisps of memories Lucas had shared with her.

Yet her name was what she clearly remembered even then along with the reasons why it was so difficult for Lucas to adjust with them both. Melisina was a primary school teacher in the small town of Cranbury and she had raised her only son in the best way possible, teaching him about kindness and humanity.

But then their association to Slade Wilson had become their downfall as a squad from the League of Assassins had tracked the two out to get to Slade.

Deathstroke had found out about the attack and reached in time to save them from being killed but Melisina had been injured severely in her attempts of shielding her son from the blows sent their way.

A bloody battle later, Deathstroke had managed to get the woman to a medical facility but took his son with him. And that had been the last Lucas had seen of his mother.

He had been just four at that time.

And now with almost five years lapsing, he was still torn in the conflict of what was right and wrong, unable to decide whether he should follow what his mother had taught him or accept every order his father gave him.

Rose was exhausted herself from the mission and the injuries she had received but she could not bring herself to leave the child by himself.

So checking his pulse once again to make sure he was alright, she leaned back against the wall, eyes dropping shut out of fatigue.

***

Rose woke up with a gasp, her heartbeat racing and her breaths jagged. What she had just envisioned in her dream had chilled her to the bone and her eyes flickered towards the bed where Luke was supposed to be asleep.