Chicago, February 1992

Red and blue lights outside the window at three in the morning were never a good sign.

Davyn raised his head, listening intently. It was hard when his own pulse was drumming and Maddie kept panting.

"Shhh." He tightened his hold on her knees.

"Come on," she breathed, "I'm not loud. Why did you stop?"

The lights flickering on the walls of his bedroom should've clued her in, but she had her eyes closed and her head knocked back, a prisoner in her own world.

He saw them and he couldn't ignore them. He stood, doing the buttons of his jeans back up and walked to the window.

"Daaav," Maddie moaned.

He shushed her again and looked out to the front of his house. Yes, there was a police cruiser there, parked on the other side of the street. There appeared to be two people inside, but neither of them seemed in a hurry to get out. Finally, both doors of the vehicle opened, and two harrased officers, a tall black man and a short woman, climbed out.

For the briefest second, Davyn hoped they would head for the house they were parked in front of. But as he knew they would, they crossed the street towards his. There was no reason for that. His mind started whirling, trying to figure out if he'd done anything wrong, if there was any reason at all for them to be there. Sure, he got in trouble from time to time, because he liked to exercise his ability to go unseen in places he was not supposed to be, but not tonight.

He'd come straight home after school, did a bit of sparring with his father, homework, then a family dinner. It was Maddie who'd sneaked into his house, and he doubted the police were there to pick her up and take her home.

"Davyn?"

"Stay here. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

He didn't answer as he picked up his scarlet Saint Agnes Academy t-shirt off the floor and pulled it on. As silently as possible, he crept out of his room, on the landing, and stopped on top of the stairs. The rest of his house was silent, his parents and brothers obviously still sleeping.

The doorbell sounded through the empty house, so loud, it was a wonder everyone wasn't coming out in a flurry. As it was, he stood alone.

A heavy knot settled in his throat as he made his way down the stairs, his bare feet making no noise on the carpeting. Once he reached the hall, he could see the two silhouettes through the glass pane on his front door. The flashing lights made them look thin and creepy.

He opened the door just as a second ring from the doorbell filled the silence. Even if he'd expected it, seeing the two police officers wasn't any easier and a tiny bit of fear took over. The black man was tall and broad, with a handlebar moustache. The woman behind him was frail and mousey looking.

"Yes?" His voice came out strong, even a little impatient as he tried to burry the panic deep inside.

"Is this the home of Sirius Grant?" the policeman asked in a deep voice not lacking kindness.

Davyn froze, the feelings inside him twisting from worry about himself to curiosity, followed immediately by dread. He just nodded, frowning slightly.

"And you are?"

"Davyn. His son." His voice shook this time, as he became aware, more than ever, that something was very wrong.

"We are Officer Jeffords and Officer Potter," the man said, pointing from himself to the woman. "Are you eighteen, son?"

"Yes." The lie came easily, even if it was another two months until his birthday.

The two officers glanced at each other as if they suspected he was lying.

"Maybe you should get your mother," Officer Potter said, her voice gentle, as if talking to a hurt animal.

"I don't think so." Not until he could judge just how bad this was. But as much as he twisted the day's events inside his head, he couldn't find one plausible reason for the nighttime visit. "Just tell me what happened."

The two officers exchanged another glance, but it was three in the morning and delivering bad news was hard enough as it was.

"Your father has been in a car accident. We are sorry to say that he... Um, didn't make it," Office Jeffords said.

"That's impossible." The words were out before Davyn could stop or filter them.

But this was insane. His father couldn't have died in a car crash at three in the morning because his father was in his bedroom, sleeping next to his mother. They'd had dinner together just a few hours ago and Sirius had laughed and joked, trying to lighten the mood even if Davyn's older brother, Freider, had grumbled and sulked, as usual. His mother had asked for peace and silence, but threw Sirius covert smiles when she thought no one was looking. 

Davyn had seen them going upstairs together, to their room. He'd stayed up late reading and heard Freider going out, then coming back in. Ron, who was just thirteen, was surely sleeping. Then Maddie had snuck in. And yet...

The officers recited his license plate number, confused frowns on their faces, and as much as Davyn shook his head, he couldn't make it go away.

"What's going on?"

Freider's voice drew all eyes to the top of the stairs where he stood in his maroon pajamas, his dark brown hair rumpled, his muddy eyes unfocused.

"Davyn, what the hell did you do this time?"

Fair question since this wouldn't be the first time police called because of him. But it wasn't him this time, and the truth of that shut down his ability to produce any words, let alone sarcastic ones. The officers took it from there, anyway, informed Freider, who looked a lot more like an adult, of the tragedy that had fallen upon their family.

But, of course, Freider wouldn't see it like that. To him, this was maybe an inconvenience that had woken him up from a perfect night's sleep. For him, it wouldn't be the end of the world, not when he was twenty-six and forever at odds with their father.

For Davyn, it was. The more no one dismissed the news, the more his insides felt as if they were shaking.

"Excuse me?" Freider asked, his eyes widening with surprise. Then he finally made his way down the stairs and towards the door.

Davyn couldn't focus. The pain in his chest was getting bigger with each passing second until he was sure he would suffocate. He caught random words like "fallen asleep", "drugs in his system", "late at night" and he knew it was impossible.

"My father doesn't drink or do drugs," he said. "And he was home. I didn't hear anyone leave."

"Shut up, Davyn. Let the police officers speak," Freider snapped, turning his attention back to them. "But the kid is right, our father really is home. Or at least was."

"I didn't sleep. I would've heard if he'd left," Davyn said, his voice even. It was very important that everyone understood that.

Freider huffed at him. "Why weren't you sleeping?"

"Who cares?"

"What's going on?"

Grace Grant surveyed the scene now, her hair disheveled, the chord of her nightgown undone. Davyn looked up at her with hope, sure she would dismiss this misunderstanding. But the hope fizzled and died the moment he took in the lines on her face, the fear in her eyes, the way that, even if she held her shoulders squared, her hands shook on the banister.

"Ma'am." Officer Jeffords bit his full lip, apparently inconvenienced by having to deliver the same news a third time. But he did. "We believe your husband is dead. Your sons, however, claim he is home with you."

In a blink of an eye, all hell broke loose. 

Davyn wasn't sure when and how his mother managed to glide down the stairs, but she was suddenly outside, in front of the house, screaming her lungs out while the two officers struggled to hold her.

"No!" she kept yelling. "Not Sirius. No! You promised. You promised!"

The words made no sense. Davyn heard them, but his mind rejected every silable. The red and blue light seemed tattooed to his retina, a sign of death and despair.

This couldn't be happening. His father couldn't be dead.

"We should call an ambulance," Officer Potter yelled over Grace's screeching.

Davyn shook his head, trying to snap out of the state of shock. Because in that moment, when everything came crashing down, when no one gave him any comfort, he realized what must be done.

Someone needed to take charge and clear this mess up.

"Freider, what the hell?" He moved past his brother who had frozen in the doorway and hurried to grab his mother and pull her back. "Mom. You have to pull yourself together."

"You don't understand," Grace cried, her voice getting louder with every word. "He promised."

Davyn had no idea what she was talking about, but was convinced no one could promise that they wouldn't die.

"I'll handle this, you get back inside." Freider tried to push past Davyn, but another voice had them both freezing.

"Why's Mom yelling? What's going on?"

It was strange how none of them had considered that Ron might wake up and witness this mess.

"On the other hand," Freider mumbled, turning back and glancing over his shoulder. "Ron, get back to bed."

Ron glared at both of them, his light blue eyes narrowed. "That's convinced me. Davyn?"

Shit. He was too overwhelmed right now to think of a way to bring this up before his baby brother. "Um, Ron, I think--"

"I'll go up with him and explain," Freider cut him off, and for once, Davyn was grateful for his brother's bossy nature. He wouldn't want to have to explain this. Not to Ron who loved their father as much as he did.

But it still left him facing a screaming mother who seemed to have lost her mind and a wailing ambulance which attracted the attention of half of the neighborhood. Lights kept turning on behind the windows of neighboring houses. In normal circumstances, his mother would be mortified. Not that it mattered anymore. Not when it was her causing the scene and his father not being there to fix this.

The paramedics secured Grace to a gurney and wheeled her inside the ambulance. Davyn threw a look towards the house, but Freider wasn't coming out, and he couldn't leave his mother alone.

So, still barefooted, wearing a t-shirt in the frigid February air, and punch-drunk from shock, he climbed in with her.

Being caught in a small space with her screams made everything more real. Every strangled yell, every cry, every accusation of broken promises seemed to chip away at Davyn's soul.

This can't be happening. It just can't.

And yet, it was. When the paramedic moved past him and injected a tranquilizer in Grace's arm, he made no move to stop him. Once silence filled the ambulance, he felt relief. At least until his mother grabbed his forearm and pulled him towards her.

"Mom, wha--"

"Look at me," she hissed. "Look at me and tell me to my face why you lied to me."

He looked back at her because he didn't feel like he had a choice. Her chocolate brown eyes shone with reproach, with resent. He had nothing to say to her about the lies, about the promise, about anything at all. Her gaze turned hazy, and in a few moments, she leaned back, her limbs unresponsive, her vision moving beyond the material.

Even though the silence was somewhat calming, Davyn's heartbeat didn't subside. Seeing his mother like this, drugged out of her mind, just made everything more real.

His father was dead. His mother was hysteric. And he was all alone.

His mind went into a spiral, trying its best to make sense of everything that had happened. He'd been there. His father had been home. Why hadn't he heard anything?

Not before long, he found himself curled up on a hospital chair, in front of the door leading to his mother. She was still out of it, and the doctors were running tests. He had nothing to do but wait.

Coming from a family of four brothers out of which three still lived at home, it was so odd to suddenly be alone. Ron, he could understand. He was young and should be spared all this, but Freider?

Freider should be here. Bill, their oldest brother, should be there, but Davyn had no idea where he was in the first place, if anyone had let him know what had happened. Would he even come? Davyn hadn't seen him in at least two years.

Not that he'd cared much. Bill was as estranged as family members could get. Given that there was such an age gap between him and Freider on one side and Davyn and Ron on the other, Davyn had always felt as if they were two separate families.

A happy one made out of him, his parents and Ron, and a very weird, bitter one which included Bill and Freider. Not that Bill was ever around, and Davyn had long concluded that Fredier was just a grouch by nature.

And still, he could never understand the resent Freider and Bill held towards their father, not when he'd been the best dad in the world. There had been so much Davyn had learned from him. From dealing with bullies, to hand-to-hand combat and the importance of learning about himself as well as the environment. He'd encouraged his curiosity, his passions, turning him into a complex child with such a rich inner world.

Everything Davyn was, Sirius had planted while Grace nurtured him. It had been a goal for Davyn to make his father proud, become as proficient as possible at anything he tried. Prove that he had taken his teachings to heart.

What would Sirius say now?

Life is hard, kiddo, but that doesn't mean we can't make it work in our favor. Take it as it is and make it better.

But what could make this better?

There is so much out there just waiting for you to grab it. Just you wait and see. You're destined for something great. All you have to do is wait and learned as much as possible.

Something great... Was this the thing he was destined for? This darkness and silence? The feeling that he as being buried alive? His hands still shook. It felt like hell. As if he was burning in the depths of hell.

Flame flashed before his eyes in a mesmerizing dance and it took him a very long time to rationalize that he was actually watching a candle someone had placed next to the closest window. Someone else had probably died and the fire was maybe there to lead the soul into the afterlife. Fire... What would happened if he took it and set something bigger on fire? Would that lead him to a place less painful than this?

"Davyn Grant?"

He jumped and raised his eyes to the doctor before him. Her eyes were tired and her curly brown hair was caught in a messy bun at the base of her neck. He found himself wondering how long a curl would become if he pulled at it.

The doctor looked from him to the door behind her and heaved a sigh. "Is your older brother not here yet?"

He shook his head. The clock on the wall said it was four thirty in the morning. He wasn't sure where the last hour and a half had gone. It had passed in the blink of an eye, and yet he felt he'd been stuck in this hell alone forever.

"Then we need you. Could you--" She cut off again to glance over her shoulder as if she expected Grace to step out. "We have your father's body down in the morgue. We need you to identify him."

"Didn't you already do that?" he asked. His voice was croaky from lack of use.

"We need to be sure."

Of course they did. And he saw no reason not to do it, not to help. Assume the role someone had to take in the family. So he stood and followed the doctor down three flights of stairs, into the basement where they kept the bodies.

She walked at a brisk pace, and he kept up with no problems, even if his entire world was falling apart and the sterile walls seemed to be crashing on top of him. Maybe the shock was all he needed to finally wake up from his nightmare. He'd probably fallen asleep with the book over his face and everything after that was just some twisted nightmare. It wouldn't be the first time. Except he'd never had such a vivid dream.

The morgue was cold. One lone body rested on a gurney in the middle of the room, covered in a light blue sheet. The color reminded him of Ron's eyes for some reason. The doctor placed herself next to the body and watched him with sorrow on her face.

"I know this isn't easy--"

He shook his head. He didn't need the words, just for this to be over already. When she pulled the sheet away, Davyn's knees buckled.

It was definitely his father.

The jet black hair that only he had inherited, the high cheekbones, the angular line of his jaw, his handsome features... The image was so familiar, as it always was, making Davyn feel as if he were staring at an older version of himself. Except this time, the image was ruined.

Half of Sirius' face was beaten in, as if it had collapsed upon itself. There was a deep gash over his left eye that almost got lost in the bloody pulp that was left of him. There was torn flesh and splintered bone, visible like like maggots making their way through his skin. The right side of his face was intact and peaceful.

Davyn could see that the damage spread to the entire left side of his body, making him look like a grotesque version of Two-Face. Every tiny bubble of hope he still held inside him burst, filling him with acid.

"Is this your father?" the doctor whispered.

He wished he could say no, but there was no denying it. Bile rose to his mouth and he bent over just as vomit made its way up his throat. The pulse thundered in his ears, tears streamed down his face, and his throat was raw as he finally gave up on every ounce of denial left in him.

He had no idea how long it lasted, but when he was done, he became aware of the gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about the mess," he whispered. "And yes, that is my father."

"I'm so sorry," the doctor whispered.

He just nodded. Words couldn't fill the hole in his heart, couldn't drive away the fear suffocating him. But he needed to act normal, go back upstairs, and make sure his mother would be fine. So, since there was nothing he could do there, he hurried back up and into the waiting hall. His head pounded so hard, his vision blurred, but he forced himself to walk on.

Freider waited in front of their mother's door, pacing with his hands behind his back. He'd changed from his pajamas and now wore a pair of dark brown trousers and a zip up sweater. The moment Davyn approached, he stopped and frowned at him.

"Where have you been?"

"Down in the morgue. To identify Dad."

Freider's shoulders slouched and the frown slid off his face. "This is terrible. I'm... I'm sorry..."

For a second, Davyn was a little surprised by the apology, but the throbbing ache in his temples didn't let him dwell on it for long. "You don't have to apologize. It sucks for you, too."

Freider nodded. "I've spoken to the doctors. Mom needs to stay committed a while longer. I think you should go home and get some rest." His eyes moved from his brother's face to his bare feet. "I'll take you."

"That's okay. I can stay." The words came out slightly distorted as the pain in his head seemed to grow with each word.

"Someone needs to stay with Ron, too, and he's always liked you better. I can't seem to handle this right."

The words seemed to be coming from inside a tunnel. Davyn nodded out of reflex, wishing he could say something. His vision blackened and the next jolt of pain had him screaming.

"Davyn? Are you alright?"

He couldn't answer. He couldn't even hear if Freider said anything else.

All that was left was darkness and pain.

♣️♣️♣️

Starting off with a bang because what better way is there to begin a story than with death and destruction.

If you're here from the series, here's to getting to know the past of your favorite characters!

If you're new and got past the ominous warnings in the preliminaries, I welcome you to a whirlwind of adventures that will not be very happy, lol.

I hope you enjoyed the beginning of the story and I'll be back next week with the next installment.

Don't forget to vote and comment for support!