Milk And Cardamom | S. Brown ✔

[22]

With slightly shaking hands, Lucas rang the doorbell of the annexe they were staying in at Gotham. Alex had dropped him there and left after he had assured him that the gate would open in a couple minutes.

When Camille opened the door, horror spread on her features upon seeing Luke. Out of instinct, she reached out to him, gently clasping his arm and brought him inside then closed the door.

"Lucas, dear, what happened to you?"

His hazel eyes flickered in to see whether George had left for work or not. But unfortunately for him, George had just emerged from his room, eyes widening in shock upon seeing his son injured.

The first thought that crossed his mind was that Deathstroke might have attacked Luke and though it was true, Luke had decided not to tell him that.

"Luke, what is this?"

"Nothing, Dad, I'm fine..." He let Camille help him sit on the couch, his features drawn in guilt because he knew he was making a big mistake by hiding it from them.

But at the moment, it seemed the only way.

George turned to Camille, "I think your phone is ringing, must be Isadora. You can go check, I'll look after Luke."

Camille nodded and left while George's eyes locked upon the injured boy.

"Was it Slade?" His voice was muted because he didn't want the answer to be what he expected but there was little hope against it.

Seeing Luke like that had rekindled the fear in his heart that he might never be able to save him if Slade decided to take him away or hurt him. No matter how hard he wanted to keep Deathstroke away from the boy, he would be unable to stand against the mercenary for much longer.

"Of course not, I got mugged," Luke tried to sound convincing, "and that's clearly my fault. I was coming back home and missed the bus so I thought why not walk..."

Camille had returned to the living room as well, "walk back home? In Gotham and that too at night?"

"That's exactly what Dora said," he mumbled sheepishly, "I'll never ever make such a terrible mistake again, promise."

She shook her head, realization evident from her tone, "so you went to Dora's place instead and asked her to lie to us so that we won't get worried?"

"Cami, I'm sorry... But I really didn't want to trouble you," he replied, turning to George he added, "please Dad, try to understand. Night had fallen already and if I came back home like that, I might have been more at risk. Dora and Al let me stay the night and looked after me too."

"That's very kind of them but you know very well that you shouldn't have been so careless," George was still looking at him skeptically because he still thought the boy was not telling the full truth.

Either the thugs who had mugged him had knives on them or he had actually encountered Slade because George could see very well that the deep slashes on his arm were inflicted by something sharp, like a katana.

"I have realized that now, I'm sorry," Luke had lowered his gaze, no wonder feeling shameful at making them worried as well as not telling them the actual reason.

Camille spoke up, "promise us you will never ever make such a blunder again. This isn't Bludhaven and chances of surviving the criminals here are quite slim."

"I promise. I'll be careful next time."

George knew he was getting late for the seminar he had to attend and he should leave by then but he couldn't shrug off the dreadful feeling in his heart that the cause to all of Luke's injuries was Slade.

"Camille, see to it he takes a proper rest and doesn't go out anywhere today," he instructed his wife, hand gently stroking the boy's head, "and Luke, never keep things from me thinking that I'll get worried. I'll get worried more if you get in trouble and I have no idea how to help you out of it."

Luke's hazel eyes glimmered in sadness. George was so caring to him that it seemed unreal that a person could care so much unconditionally. And he was so opposite from Slade that at times Luke couldn't see himself worthy of all the love and attention he showered on him.

To him, the whole prospect of a father caring for his son was still out of his grasp because his own father had never done anything of the sort. All Slade had ever done to him was made him believe that he was worth nothing, just a useless boy who couldn't be what his father wanted him to be, who always let him down and who was the reason to his demise.

The words stuck in Luke's throat as he looked up at George. He wanted to thank him for all he had done for him but couldn't find his voice.

George patted his shoulder cautiously as he stepped back, "I'll try and come early by evening. Then we'll have dinner together, okay?"

He nodded and watched George leave at last. Camille went to close the door and when she returned, she found Luke sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, probably trying to hide the tears streaking down his face.

Her honey shaded eyes softened as she sat down beside him, knowing that there were times when Luke would still get quite unstable. She still didn't know what trauma he had been through that had reduced him to such a state nevertheless she wanted to make him feel better.

"Luke, how about I get you some milk and then the two of us could watch a movie?"

He looked sideways at her with slight reddening eyes as he mumbled, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

"But what for?"

He didn't reply so she gently engulfed him in a motherly embrace, not pushing him to tell her what he meant but offering silent reassurance. It was an aspect of hers that made him think of Melisina the most. It made him think what it would be like if his own mother was there with him at that moment instead.

But Camille had treated him no different than her own son and he appreciated that very much. So even if he didn't have his own mother with him, he had a mother in Camille's form and he couldn't be more grateful for that.

***