#Bruce is maybe a little more harsh here than normal

[horsechestnut]

(Whoops my hand slipped and started writing a Batfam Umbrella Academy AU)

From the Personal Notes of Mr. Bruce Wayne:

00.01 - Ability to manipulate gravitational fields allows for advanced gymnastic and combat capabilities. A strong leader, the others look up to him. Loyal to a fault, but needs to be watched carefully. Will choose the other children over himself or me.

00.02 - Determined, focused, strong willed. Has learned to use her ability to analyze the surroundings and formulate a plan prior to attack. Unfortunately lacks any leadership qualities and fails to communicate these plans to the team, preferring to act alone. Still has much to learn, but is eager to do so. My favorite.

00.03 - Adequate marksmanship and proficiency with ranged weapons. Can hold his own in a fight but relies to heavily on his powers. Insolent, can not take instruction or direction. His recklessness will be his undoing.

00.04 - Development of photokinesis is hindered by his unwillingness to fully commit to manipulating shadows as well as light. Charming and a neutral leader. Should Number 1 ever fail, he would be the best choice to replace him.

00.05 - Connection to animals has yet to prove useful. Fighting skills and determination on par with Number 2, but is unpredictable at best. Refuses to admit when he doesn’t know something. Has no respect for anyone but himself.

00.06 - Still fails to reach the full potential of psychometry abilities. Refuses to accept the possibility that he may be able to see into the future as well as the past. Useful for research and not much else.

00.07 - No clear talents. Some enthusiasm for puzzles and mediocre problem solving abilities. To headstrong. Irritating.

[loop-hole-319]

The Way He Fell

When Damian cut Tim's line he wasn't able to save himself.

Inspired by every time I read a fic where Damian cuts Tim's line and I have to go watch the gymnastics scene death from Final Destination.

Every... single... time

"Red Robin. Come in Red Robin."

Barbara had been trying to contact Tim for the last 45. About an hour ago, everyone had finished their patrols and returned to the Batcave. Everyone except Tim that is, who had left Robin to make his way back to the cave by himself. Damian seemed pretty upset about it too. He hadn't said a word since he got back and was kind of zoned out.

So forgive her for sounding a little harsh but she was exhausted and the two bird's petty bickering was driving everyone up the wall. She was really banking on Bruce making them patrol together tonight, would force them to bond. But here she was up an hour later than she planned because someone didn't want to even try to be a good big brother.

Finally she heard the soft crackling of Tim's com channel open.

"RED! Where the hell have you been! I've been trying to contact you for almost an hour! And you ditched Robin! How could you be so irresponsible!" She shouted into the mic.

"I know you two don't get along but you can't just leave him to fend for himself! You were supposed to watch him! Show him the ropes!" She sighed disappointably putting her hand up to her forehead

"I'm sorry" A voice that was discernibly not Tim's spoke from the other end of the line.

"Hello?" She questioned

"I'm sorry" The person was crying and sounded out of breath.

"Sir, are you okay? Why do you have Red Robin's com link?"

"I swear I didn't do it. I was just taking out the garbage." He whispered into the com his voice wobbly from crying.

"Sir, is Red Robin with you?"

The man on the line paused. Something was wrong.

"Yes"

"Sir can you please the com link to Red Robin." Barbara kept her voice steady, trying to ignore the cold pit forming at the bottom of her stomach.

"No" She tensed.

"Sir why can't you give the com link to Red Robin?"

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm -"

For a moment there was only soft choked sobs from the other side of the line, then heavy breathing of trying to get themselves under control. Her entire body was tense, there was something very, very wrong.

"Sir?"

"He's dead."

Ice shot through Barbara's veins

"What?"

"He's DEAD!" The man practically screamed into the mic.

She pulled up Tim's location and sure enough, he hadn't moved from that alley for an hour.

Babs had called Jason at ass o'clock in the morning, gave him some coordinates and told him to go check on replacement. Under normal circumstances he would have bitched and whined at her for waking him up. But something in her voice, maybe it was the poorly hidden fear in her voice that got his ass moving. She had called him because he was the closest and they needed someone at the scene while she woke the others.He only got the alert that Dickwing and Bruce were on their way when he rounded the corner heading into the alleyway.

A young man who couldn't have been more than 25 was sitting up against the wall resting his forehead on his knees. He barely makes out a soft sniff from the guy when he detected the faint stent of blood. Hood bent down, resting a kneepad on the wet street to get closer to the guy. "Hey buddy. You okay?" The kid shot his head up and stared at him, tears still flowing down his face from whenever he had contacted Babs.

How the hell did he contact Babs?

The kid squeezed his legs and looked away. " I'm sorry."

Jason took a moment to take a calming breath. "What are you sorry for kid?"

"He fell."

"Who fell?"

The kid stared straight ahead at the other alley wall for a second, before slowly lifting his left arm and pointing deeper into the alley.

There was a massive puddle of blood and sitting in the center was a familiar cape covering something. Ice flooded Jason's veins at the site of the black fabric. It was a very familiar cape sitting there surrounded by a puddle of blood. Jason up and closed his eyes forcibly pushing down the oncoming panic to allow himself to deal with the civilian.

" All right buddy." He pulled the kid up to his feet and patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you for telling Oracle, you should probably get out of here. You don't want to be here when the rest of the bats show up."

"So here's what you're going to do. You're going to go home and you're not going to tell anybody about this. You were never here, got it?"

The kid stared at him blankly for a second before slowly nodding his head and stepping back out of his grip. Normally he would walk such a shaken up civilian home, but not tonight. Tonight another Robin may have fallen.

He stood over the lump of fabric and lifted the cape. Tim's torso had been folded in half. His spine jutted out for his stomach having torn through his organs and flesh. Shards of his ribs were piercing out his sides and back. Tim lay lifelessly on the floor in front of him folded in half in a grotesque mockery of Dick's acrobatics.

Jason forced himself in a dissociative state as he reached for his com and spoke out the words he promised himself he'd never hear.

"A Fledging has fallen."

If Tim survived this, he was going to blame it on the shock. Not the shock of yet another of his 'brothers' attempted murderers. No, that had become expectation at this point. If anything, he was shocked at how sudden it was and how blatant this attempt was. Although based on the velocity and angle at which he was headed towards the concrete floor of an alley, he was not entirely confident that he could label this an attempt.

He had managed to grab on to a rusted pole that jutted out from the side of the building. It did little to slow his momentum only succeeding at rotating him mid-fall and tossing him further into the alley. He was sure he could have made it if the bar had not snapped at the height of his swing. If he wasn't going to land upside down. If he wasn't going so fast. If damien had not cut his line.

Wind brushed against his face, but this time it wasn't the soft. It didn't feel freeing like flying on a grapple. More like the wind was biting at his face. He never liked doing acrobatics, the thought of Dicks fancy flips had always scared him. Especially now as he's somersaulted through the air hurdling towards the concrete below him while upside down.

His manubrium took the brunt of the force. He could hear the crunch of his ribs as the force of impact slammed his sternum into the ground. Horrific pain shot through his side and chest. He was certain that his entire rib cage had just been crushed. His lungs were most definitely punctured.

His hips, unfortunately still had momentum and were coming down hard. With a sickening crunch his lumbar had been folded in half definitely breaking through the skin of his stomach. His knees slotted over his shoulders and his heels slammed down on either side of his head. Not that he could feel their impact on the cement. He couldn't feel anything from the waist down.

The sound of his spine snapping echoed off the empty alley walls. A horrible gargling sound came from his throat as his lungs automatically stretched open. Trying to pull an oxygen but only taking in blood, creating a horrible gurgling sound.

He could see his fingers twitching from muscle spasms behind his foot. He could feel his blood seeping through his lips and pooling on the ground and the only thing he could do was stare straight ahead. His brain couldn't even send the signal to his eyes to begin crying.

A hot numbness seeped out from the burning sensation at the core of his chest. He couldn't move, most likely paralyzed. Frozen still, forced to watch the pool of blood beneath him grow in size.

He couldn't tell where it was coming from. Although he predicted that a portion of his spine as well as his ribs were jutting out from his back and sides. His throat began to tighten and his lungs burned as they could do nothing but become saturated in his blood and his vision fade to black.

[phantomskeep]

Editing to add (again): This is using the bastardized wendigo from popculture. It's not using the wendigo in the context of the spirit, more in the context of the Hannibal "Ravenstag" or even Antlers' wendigo. Check the Anon link near the end of the post for more information regarding my thoughts on the subject :) I didn't mention the deer-like qualities until the tags, which I understand some people don't fully read. That's my bad, so here I am with the full context ahead of time. This is not the Algonquian version of the wendigo spirit. i really want to write a DCxDP fic where Danny gets trapped in a different form (like either true form or just gets cursed, something like that) and can't get out of it. That form? A wendigo. Somehow he ends up in the DC universe - either through already living there or Ghost Zone shenanigans.

Being a wendigo, Danny feels the need to eat flesh. Preferably human, but even in his screwed-up state he knows that's wrong of him to do. So he takes to killing the bare minimum amount of wildlife he can to sustain himself. Eventually he realizes that "oh wait, what if I just raided a store?" So he stumbles out of the woods and into the nearest grocery store after they had closed. He ends up eating enough to settle his stomach before going off to hide to wait for this whatever to wear off.

However, this catches the attention of [insert local hero]. [Insert local hero] goes to the Justice League about this - maybe this creature is a new villain's scheme? Or just a new villain? Members of the JL + Justice League Dark then go out to [insert town Danny was spotted in] to do some investigating. Batman being one of these people, plus Robin because Damian would not let Bruce go without him. A wendigo could be like a shark after all, just a big ol' puppy.

They get to [insert town here] and start cracking down. They compare the old footage to the location, tracking where the wendigo went. Finally Batman, Robin and [insert characters here] are able to get to the wendigo's den... only to find out the wendigo is a lot more ghost-like than they thought it would be.

There's a big fight because Wendigo-Brain!Danny thought these random dudes were the GIW coming for his undead ass that ends with Danny taking off. Unknowingly to Danny, Damian has grabbed onto him and is basically riding his soon-to-be pet into the sunset.

... I just want to 1) see Danny suffer and being confused 2) Damian trying to get a new dangerous pet and 3) get Damian trying to tame a feral Wendigo!Danny like any normal person would try to befriend that feral orange cat living in the dumpster.

Adding this just to cover my own butt about this haha, here's a link that contains a post which covers the research I have done on the topic of the wendigo: Anon Ask Post Here. I am not trying to culturally appropriate, offend, or harm anyone with a prompt post about Danny taking the form of a wendigo. It's a cool concept to me as I believe it is a bit ironic. The wendigo, as seen in the culture it originates from, is a symbol of greed and a harsh winter and are often a sign of cannibalism. They have hearts of ice and an "unseasonable chill might precede its approach".

I think this is ironic because 1 - Danny is a sweet little bean and being stuck with cannibalistic cravings is a Hannibal Fic trope that will forever rot in my brain + Ghost King!Danny having to eat Pariah Dark's core is a headcanon I adore, 2 - the chill preceding a wendigo's approach reminds me of Danny's ghost sense, 3 - Danny is the LEAST greedy person I can think of in the entirety of DP (even if he does have his selfish moments at the worst times ever), and 4 - wendigos possess human beings. In Native legend a wendigo is a "malevolent spirit" which possesses humans - technically if you are going to stick with the general wendigo legends then it does not have antlers, horns, or is even a beast. It's just a giant human. Which, if using the correct/original version of a wendigo, makes this 10x funnier to me, because Damian that is clearly a giant person what the fUCK ARE YOU DOING--

Anyways, long story short if you have issues with me using a wendigo for a "haha funny" prompt please DM me with any sort of articles, legends, documentaries, ect. on why using a wendigo is a Bad Thing. Like I said in the linked post, I'm always willing to learn and adjust my behavior. I just want proof that the changes I'm going to make are the correct ones to be making, as my years on the internet have ALWAYS told me to fact check anything :)

[saintfromkrypton]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐆 ➪ do you stick your head into everyone's business, or just mine?

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄; 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐄💫

A sweeping glance shows the detective's taste in civilian life - the furnishings are tasteful, if a little. . . minimalist. It surely isn't the same as his cozy Metropolis apartment! Then again, Gotham itself has always been darker, as if the city itself preferred the shadows.

"Why, Batman," he grits out, a harsh whisper in the pristine (maybe highly soundproofed?) office space of the Gothamite named Bruce Wayne, "I wouldn't dream of it." The journalist crosses his arms over his professional wear, a slight smug smirk dancing upon his lips. Clark has always been one to have a lopsided, boyish smile, and his smirks are no different.

The white dress shirt and vest do hide his physique, but it doesn't help much, as he has long shifted from his reserved reporter body language to his more confident, taller presentation as Superman.

Kent had no reason to hide himself in front of the other - not now, not ever. Batman had actually gained his trust, even though it seemed they were at odds more than ever. He takes off the glasses and puts them in his breast pocket.

Batman's heartbeat is something so unique: staccato and yet strong, loud, and rapid. But no anxiety came from such a heartbeat. Instead, it is the heartbeat of one so in tune with their body, their focus is razor sharp, alert -

"When I followed you, I didn't expect you to actually be conducting business. Really? Of all of the places I thought you'd work, I didn't think you'd be a CEO. I had hoped you had your own private investigation agency. It makes a lot of sense. You're the best detective I know."

He gives a small laugh, blue eyes focusing on Bruce's features. As he studies him, Kent can't deny that there's a familiar resonance from seeing those grey eyes and dark hair. He may not be able to place it, but it causes warmth to stir in his chest in a slow wave.

"I'm here because it's important. I noticed your heartbeat and tracked you here. Under normal circumstances, I would have ignored it, and not wanted to know, protect the divide between what we do and how we live, but you're the only one I can trust."

He swallows the lump of coal in his throat, and he suddenly can't stand still, "Lex Luthor just gave me an interview. He doesn't know it's me, I don't think."

Nervousness makes Kent look away, and he paces around the office.

"But the point, why I'm here. He's planning on creating new tech - a special weapon with Kryptonite ammunition. But these aren't green. They're red, B. He thinks they're more lethal to me. That's not the case, however. When red Kryptonite hits me, I change into a different person. I have no morals. I become a danger to the populace. I need your help. Not just against Lex, but against myself if it came down to it."

Superman turns to face the best friend he'd ever known, entirely unaware that Bruce Wayne is the same Bruce Pennyworth he'd known years ago.

"Oh, I forgot. How rude of me. You may as well know my name."

He crosses the distance, and offers a strong handshake to @gothamsaved.

"I'm Clark Kent. It's nice to meet you."

[the-elevator-twins]

>[At the prospect of fresh meat, your twin seems to perk up, and point to the door almost frantically. Is he talking about the monsters? Those two are certainly meat of some sort.... though the second he makes that recommendation, he starts shaking his head, and seems to snap out of his daze, still frantic, but much more normal.]

>[He takes in his surroundings and tries to offer you his scissors and talk to you, but when he does, the strings tighten completely, blood dripping from the threads as they cut his skin and render him completely unable to talk. But he seems insistent on staying away from you, not out of fear of you, he'd gotten over that a while ago.]

>[It's like he's scared of hurting you]

>[Though almost immediately his eyes widen and his pupils shrink, and pained, choked, muffled laughter escapes him. The threads loosen and he goes back to his pacing, just more... twitchy, and hyper aware, like an animal. The parallels to how he acted when feeding off of the blonde monsters are striking, but his behavior is almost worse. Probably because unlike you, he didn't get to eat. He's starving]

CW: implied abuse

(i) > Seeing your brother like this... it hurts you in some way. Honestly, you should feed him, but at the same time, you know he really, truly doesn't want to. With a reluctant sigh, you force yourself up, wincing slightly in pain before the door knocks, right on cue. A hook moves to the door, pulling it back as you come face to face with 'them' again.

> "Hey newbie! Wow, looks like you got caught in a trap or something. Got baited to do something reckless?" > "Would you and your brother like to go out for drinks?"

(i) > Lips parted, you were about to decline, but it's already too late as your brother lunged forward. He seems to go after the weaker one of the two, while your manic coworker takes out a lighter and a beer bottle. You react quickly, hooking "Bryce" to the ground as Neil finishes mauling "Bruce" to death.

> "Hey! You think you can get away with this you little brat!? Do I have to punish you again!? You bastard child!!" > "H-Huh. . ?"

(i) > There, Bryce begins to morph, that of your own mother. . . or, what appears to be your mother. Instant dread sets in as you loosen your grip on the other, resulting in the monster to shove you to the ground.

> "If you had only done what you were asked of!! None of this would have happened!! Our prayers to God fell on deaf ears, all because you wanted to be selfish!! Maybe being locked up without any food will do you some good!" > "M-Mom-" > "Don't call me your mother you PIG! You're nothing more than an unwanted animal! Dead meat! We warned you what happens when you stray from God's hand!" > "St-Stop it-- STOP IT PLEASE--"

(i) > Falling to your knees, you cover your ears, it hurts... hurts to listen to the ringing and harsh voices, the meat hooks on your body coil in agitation. Tears threaten your eyes before you feel a hand grip your hair, forcing you to look up. Something in "her" hand frightens you, it's left you unpleasant marks before, a razor blade. There is only one emotion you have at this moment. . . Fear.

> "I'll make you repent, one way or another boy, REPENT! REPENT RIGHT NOW! YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT!" > "I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!! PLEASE MOM- > "Sorry doesn't cut it!! I'll make you remember my warnings permanently!"

(i) > "She" goes to strike you, only making you flinch and let out a mortified scream. You don't want to be hurt. . . You did the best you could, you tried to bee the best son. . . you tried to be enough to matter to someone, to feel important. . . but even then, the blade never tears into your skin.

> "N. . . Nigel. . ."

(i) > Lifting your head, you see the front of "her" stomach bleeding. the monster collapses in front of you as you only look up at your brother, who's appearance only looks more terrifying. But. . . all you can do is cry, shuffle to your brother's arms and hug him tightly.

> "I'm. . . here, Nigel. . . Shhhhh. . ." > "Ghhhuuhhhaaa. . . I-I'm sorry. . !! I-I did m-my best. . . I did my b-beeessst. . !! Hhhuuuaahhhh. . !!"> "Shhhh. . . Shhhhh . . . I'm here. . . now. . ."

(i) > . . . Neither of you speak a word, you just embrace and weep together.

[yaderyngochrps]

Tim jumped at the sudden voice of Jason in his ear, catching him off-guard in a way Bruce would likely scold him for later. He’d been mid-jump onto the next rooftop, and very nearly faltered and failed to catch himself on the ledge. Instead, he skidded to a halt and turned around to look for Jason. Was he near? Or had he just tapped into the coms for no particular reason?

Frankly Tim didn’t know that Jason even had access to their com channel. Had someone given him access? Or had he hacked in? If it was the latter Tim was already mentally scolding himself for not making the line secure enough. 

But more importantly, “Babybird?” He muttered under his breath, again thrown off by the unusual nickname. Jason rarely called Tim anything other than ‘replacement’ so that seemed… like a jump. Well, Tim supposed it was just another mocking nickname, but definitely less bitter and harsh than most of those Jason used. 

He caught sight of Jason over on a nearby roof, watching Tim where he stood. Tim crossed his arms over his chest. “Not particularly,” he answered, fighting back the temptation to just tell Jason to get to the point. Tim doubted he was here to make smalltalk. Well, maybe it was just a coincidence he’d seen Tim, but going out of his way to make conversation made Tim suspect an ulterior motive. “Some muggings, a break-in, a cat that got stuck in a wire fence.” The little fucker bit him when he was trying to set it free, too. Well, at least Selina would be happy to know it was safe. 

“What about you?” That was what he was supposed to ask, right? That was the expectation for conversation? Tim was normally so good at this, the rules of etiquette having been hammered into him since birth, but the rules felt different with Jason. It was unfamiliar ground they stood on, and Tim still didn’t really like it. 

But what else was he supposed to say? ‘What do you want?’ No, he couldn’t be harsh and confrontational to Jason when he hadn’t been provoked. Jason had asked an innocent question, Tim was just biased towards the assumption that Jason wanted something, that he’d come for another reason he’d reveal soon in a sarcastic quip. 

Maybe Tim still hadn’t fully gotten over the assumption that Jason was waiting for the right moment to hurt Tim again. Which… didn’t make any sense, Tim knew that rationally. There was nothing to gain from attending Gotham U to help Tim on a case only to betray him after, unless Jason was playing nice because he needed Tim’s help but intended to go back to hurting him as soon as the case was over. 

Or, a crazy possibility, maybe Jason had genuinely changed and was seriously trying to make amends, and Tim was unfairly distrustful for no good reason, and was only making things worse by constantly thinking himself in circles about how weird all of this was.

Birds of a Feather

(closed RP with @muuuumin)

Things were not going according to plan. 

Tim really didn’t like it when things didn’t go according to plan.

Sadly, that was the nature of Gotham City, which was exactly why Tim had backup plan after backup plan, accounting for every conceivable variable. He’d written an algorithm just for this case. There was a stack of paperwork heavier than Tim was. 

And yet, somehow, none of that accounted for faulty construction of the barrier along the route Tim expected to chase the criminal along, and just like that all 27 of Tim’s backup plans went out the window, and he and this thug were tearing through the streets of Gotham City. 

Fortunately, Tim had always been quick. Maybe not quite as strong as some of the other bats, but he was balanced in agility, which was useful when it came to jumping over the wooden palettes that had been knocked in his way. 

He’d been chasing this guy for months, the leader of a trafficking ring that made Tim’s stomach turn with each new detail he learned. Finally, Tim had him… nearly. Weeks of careful planning were reduced to instinct, fueled by the base knowledge that whatever happened, he had to catch this guy. Because of that, he wasn’t particularly paying attention to where the man was running, only that Tim needed to catch up to him.

Tim was getting close. His chest burned with it, but he was closing the distance. The leader was about three times Tim’s size, but that made him slow, which Tim used to his advantage. 

One last turn lead them down a long alley with far fewer obstacles to jump over, and Tim took that as his chance. Putting one last burst of energy into moving forward, he could reach out and touch the man before him. So, he did. He leapt forward and used all his momentum to send the both of them tumbling to the ground, pinning the man’s arms behind him. 

“Get off- you little shit,” the criminal squirmed violently, pinned face down as he was. Tim was fully sitting on his back, using his entire body weight to keep him down and frankly unconvinced that was enough. Tim was strong, but he couldn’t hold someone like this forever. “I ain’t getting taken down by some pipsqueak-ass kid. I’ll fucking kill you.”

Tim used his position to secure handcuffs around the man’s wrists, trying to catch his breath. He might’ve secured them a little tighter than necessary, but knowing what this man did Tim frankly didn’t feel bad about it. 

Things hadn’t gone exactly according to plan, but Tim had gotten the criminal in the end. This would just serve as… something to keep in mind for the next time he had to make a plan. Always double check the strength of the barricades along the predicted potential chase route.

Breathless and full of adrenaline, Tim forgot another much more important rule: Always pay attention to where your target is leading you.

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 15

Chapter 1     Chapter 14

Possible trigger warning.  I mention that sexual assault and worse has happened during some akuma attacks.  I don’t describe anything or say who it happened to (it didn’t happen to anyone we know) but wanted to warn readers that it is brought up.

This room really was a ridiculous room, Marinette decided.  The dining table was large enough to seat twenty.  Who needed a casual dining table that large?  Honestly.  Not to mention, a dining table that large meant there was more than enough room for Alfred to join them, but he never did.

And bringing the food out on silver trays. Did they do that just because she was here?  She kind of hoped it was because the idea of doing it everyday…  She looked over to Adrien to roll her eyes at the opulence, but he just went with it like it was completely expected.  Marinette shook her head.  Damn rich people.  She looked up just in time to catch Duke’s eyes.  He looked at the silver trays with a pointed look and rolled his eyes. Marinette giggled and nodded back.

“I forgot to ask the other day,” Dick started with a disarming smile.  “How did you two meet and when?”

And there it was again.  A perfectly normal question.  A very common question.  A question they would expect to be asked.  But there was something off in the way he asked it.  Something that just triggered her senses.  She could feel a difference in it, like its very existence disrupted the peace of the dinner.

Adrien looked over at her with a broad smile and nodded to her, letting her know she was supposed to answer it.  She plastered on a friendly smile.  “We met in school, actually.”

“Oh? Maternelle or older?”  Dick smiled again, his face perfectly emulating interest in his sister’s friend.  Markov would never be able to tell the difference.  But Marinette could.  He was fishing.  She just didn’t know what he was fishing for.

“Older,” she answered curtly.

Dick seemed to get the message that she was not happy and backed off, metaphorically and literally, leaning away from them in his chair.  His smooth smile morphed into a mock frown.  “Oh that’s a shame.  I was hoping for stories or pictures of baby Marinette.”

“Oh, baby Mari was adorable,” Adrien gushed, with a teasing grin to Marinette.

Tim quirked his head to the side.  “I thought you said you two didn’t meet until you were older.”

Adrien’s grin widened.  “We didn’t.  Not until we were in collège and she yelled at me for something I didn’t do.”

“I didn’t yell at you,” Marinette objected in mock offense, slapping his arm. “I informed you that you were a contemptible dirtbag in a harsh tone.”

Jason barked a laugh.  “Right, big difference.”

Marinette whirled on him, her serious expression contradicted by her lips trying to quirk up at the corners at his teasing.  “There is!  It was a quietly harsh tone.  There was no yelling.”  She turned back to Adrien.  “And I apologized for that.”

“Yeah, like years later and not because you wanted to,” he rolled his eyes.

“Only because I couldn’t really talk to you for, like, ever after that,” she groused playfully.  She pushed her food around on her plate with a pout.

“Apologies are hard,” Cass nodded in agreement.

Marinette beamed at her.  “Yes.  Thank you, Cass.  See,” she motioned to Cass so Adrien would look, “Cass has my back.  She agrees.”

“With what?” Duke laughed.

“Your input is not needed!” Marinette chastised him, trying hard not to laugh.  But when Duke cracked up and started laughing hard enough to have him gasping for breath, so did Marinette.

“Okay but…” Tim started after they’d had enough time to recover.

“Oh, right!” Adrien shook his head.  “There was an akuma that de-aged people.  A mom sad her son was going off to university, so her power was to turn everyone into toddlers again.  Marinette got hit pushing me out of the way of the beam. She turned into the cutest, pudgiest, little toddler you’ve ever seen.”  

Marinette batted his hands away when he leaned over to pinch her cheeks.  He chuckled at Marinette’s pout.  “I hated that one.  I felt so helpless,” she moaned.

“I loved it,” Adrien smiled.  “I got to see all of you guys as babies.  Most of you guys knew each other since childhood so you knew what each other looked like.  Alya and I were the odd ones out.  Plus, no pain.”  He looked back to the rest of the family.  “That was rare; an akuma that didn’t cause massive amounts of pain or trauma.”

“Were they that bad?” Duke asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer he was going to get back.  He had purposefully not looked too hard into akumas precisely because he was afraid of the answer.

Marinette stared intently at her plate in thought, trying to condense the experience into light, dinner topic worthy descriptions because she desperately did not want to discuss akumas tonight… or ever again. The very thought caused shivers down her spine.  “They were… most weren’t… didn’t affect…”  Her words got cut off as her body froze with realization.  Her face scrunched up in pain and she gasped after not having breathed for the last few seconds.  She suddenly pushed away from the table and stood up.  “I think… I need to leave.”

Bruce stood up at the same time and reached out for her. “Marinette are you okay?”  His concern amped up when Cass stood up as well and frowned with concern.

Adrien got to her quicker, gently laying his hands on her arms.  “Hey, we don’t have to talk about it.  We can talk about something else.  You talked with M. Fox this morning, right?  We can talk about that.”

Marinette shook her head.  “I can’t…” she couldn’t finish her sentence, her breath was becoming more ragged the longer she stood there.

“Way to go, Timmy,” Jason groused.

“I didn’t do this!” Tim objected motioning toward Marinette and standing up too.  He wasn’t exactly sure what standing up was supposed to accomplish. She didn’t know him and definitely wouldn’t be comfortable with him trying to comfort her.  It was more of a show of support.  Whatever was going on, he didn’t want to stay sitting like it was nothing.

She looked toward Bruce, her eyes slightly glazed over.  “You… you knew.  You knew about what happened when I was fourteen… and fifteen… and sixteen.  You said you checked in on me frequently, so there’s no way you didn’t know.  You knew and you just… rather than admit I was…”  She looked down at the floor, her face scrunching further as she tried to reconcile the new information.  She backed away more and shook her head, no longer really hearing anything in the room, including Adrien’s loud gasp of realization.  “I… I can’t… be here.  I have to… I need time to…”  

She turned and rushed through the door before anyone could stop her.  She could feel herself shutting down and she needed to stop it.  She knew she needed to stop letting herself turn numb.  She gritted her teeth as her frustration with herself increased.  Why couldn’t she just react normally?  Nobody else on her team did this.  None of their friends reacted this way anymore.  What was wrong with her that she did?

And she had to do it there, in front of everyone. She had to do it in front of him.  Why couldn’t she hold it together for one freaking dinner?  She’s gone through worse.  Why couldn’t she just have DEALT with it, like an adult?  Now she probably ruined the start of their relationship. He was probably going to hate her. He didn’t want to know about that stuff. He didn’t want to deal with those kinds of problems.  Those were her issues, not his.  

He wanted a daughter for the press, not a hot mess of insecurities and anxiety.  He wanted a happy, light, cheery child.  That’s why he sent her away, so that’s who she would become.  That’s probably why Dick was trying to ask all those questions, so they could know just what kind of a broken, messed up, embarrassment of a disaster they were taking on with her.  They needed to know what to prepare for when the press started getting involved.

Back in the dining room, Jason had gone from laughing, to confused, to concerned, to fucking pissed in a matter of seconds.  “What did she go through?” Jason asked through gritted teeth.

Adrien glared at Bruce waiting for him to answer the question.  Bruce looked down dejectedly and Adrien scoffed.  He didn’t bother ripping his glare away from Bruce when he answered for him. “She means Hawkmoth.  She means M. Wayne knew what Hawkmoth was doing and let her stay there when he could have pulled her out at any time.  She means he let her stay and get tormented rather than admit she was his daughter.”

“That is not why I didn’t pull her out of Paris,” Bruce insisted weakly.

“I thought the damage done by Hawkmoth was all reversed,” Duke offered.

“Oh, the physical damage was reversed, but the psychological wasn’t.  The memories weren’t.  Hawkmoth used people’s negative emotions to turn them into monsters, AS YOU KNOW,” he snarled at Bruce.  “For years, if you had a bad day, if you got sad, if you grieved, you could end up killing or torturing or raping someone, maybe someone you cared about, maybe someone you loved, maybe more than one.  

“Didn’t even have to be something big it could just be… my best friend got akumatized because my father said he couldn’t throw me a party for my birthday.  A kid Marinette babysat got akumatized because her mother took away a toy that wasn’t hers, it was Marinette’s actually, so she felt responsible for getting Manon akumatized.  Marinette’s best friends, five of them at once, got akumatized because she didn’t want to tell them something private.  Like that didn’t wrack her with guilt for years.  It didn’t take much to turn you into a nightmare.  In fact, one little kid got akumatized several times because he had a nightmare.  All it took was one moment of feeling down.  If you were lucky, really lucky, you just… stopped feeling… anything.”

Everyone was silent for a few minutes.  Adrien’s glare never wavered the entire time. Finally Dick spoke up softly. “And was Marinette… lucky.”

Adrien sneered at Bruce, “Oh, Marinette was very lucky.  She only got tortured a few times… per month.  She only lost a few limbs.  She only got targeted most of the time.  She only died four or five times, that she remembers, the actual number is significantly higher.  All despite my father targeting her specifically.  You know, nothing worth too much concern. She only watched the people she loved get tortured, screaming for her in agony before they died painful deaths a handful of times.  She only sometimes still goes completely numb rather than feel things.  Not even just bad things, good things too.  If it’s too much, she shuts down so she doesn’t expose herself, so Hawkmoth can’t get her, because we needed her.  It’s automatic.  It’s subconscious.  It’s been five years and she still has to fight the instant reaction.”  

Bruce finally spoke up apprehensively.  God, he really, really didn’t want to know the answer to his next question, but at the same time, he needed to know.  “You mentioned akumas could kill, torture, rape… You said Marinette had been tortured and killed.  Was she ever…”

Adrien’s face scrunched up in anger and frustration. “You don’t get to ask that,” he screamed.  “You didn’t care then, you don’t get to pretend like you care now.  You want an answer to your question, you’ll have to ask her yourself, if you have the balls for it.  Personally, I don’t think you do.  So use your imagination.  I guarantee anything you can imagine, can’t even come close to the things she had to live through.”

He looked down for a moment to try to collect himself.  When he looked back up it was an icy, coldness that made Tim collapse back into his chair.  “So now you need to stop lying to her that you always loved her, you cared at all.”

Damian growled and lunged forward in his chair. “You can’t tell him what he feels. You don’t get to say how he treats one of his children.  You aren’t a part of this family.”

Adrien turned his icy glare to Damian.  “And she is?  Holding her at arm’s length?  Keeping her at a distance?  Not letting her get too close?  Randomly freezing up around her.  Keeping family secrets from her.  Clamming up as soon as she’s nearby.  Sending each other secret looks over her head when you think she won’t see.  She’s not stupid.  She sees what you’re doing, what you’re all doing, she’s just too nice to point it out, too hopeful you’ll actually accept her one day.”  He turned to look at Damian with disgust.  “I might not be a part of this thing you call a family, but I am a part of hers.”  Damian only put up a semblance of a fight when Cass pulled him back down into his chair with a disappointed look.

“You kept in contact to make yourself feel better not because you cared.  Because if you did?  If you did, there’s no way you let her stay in Paris when it would have been so easy for you to do something.  There’s no way you let her get hurt and killed over and over again just so you didn’t have to admit you were related to her.  Nobody who gives even the slightest fuck about anybody, a stranger let alone family, your child, would willingly let them go through that.  Lets them live knowing that crying about a stubbed toe could make them into a killer.

“You could have done something, anything and yet you did nothing.  You didn’t even try.  She wouldn’t have accepted.  She… she was the only reason some of us survived and she knew that.  She was our hope.  She saved us and protected us.  Repeatedly. At her own expense.  Without her…” he looked away.  When he spoke again, his voice was considerably quieter and colder.

“And she knew it.  And she took it all on herself.  She didn’t even tell most people, anyone but me and one other friend really, what she went through and not even all of it.  There’s still things I know she saw but she won’t tell me about. Her own parents didn’t know because she didn’t want them to become akumas, which they’d done before over minor things.  So she dealt with it on her own.  My father barely ever let me out so I couldn’t be there for her almost ever. So she had nobody.  She made sure she didn’t.  Because she didn’t want to be the cause of more suffering.

“So she wouldn’t have taken you up on any offers anyway because she’d never abandon the people she cares about.”  He looked back up to level Bruce with an icy glare that made him lose his breath.  “Guess she gets that from her mother.”

He started to walk away but turned back to the family as he got to the door.  “You know, Marinette and I are a lot alike.  You can do anything you want to us and we’ll probably apologize to you for inconveniencing you.  But you hurt someone we care about?  Not even Hell is far enough away for you to hide in.

“So she’ll forgive you.  That’s who she is.  She will.  Hell, she’ll probably come crawling back in a day or two to apologize to you for the scene she created.  For making you feel uncomfortable.  But I won’t ever forget what you did, what you didn’t do, what you subjected her to. No matter what else you ever do for her, you will not be forgiven.” He stepped closer to Bruce, the ice in his eyes turning darker.  “And if you ever treat her like that again, they’ll never find your body.”

Damian scowled and jumped up.  “Are you threatening my father?”

Adrien didn’t look at him when he responded, continuing to glare at Bruce with a dark, warped look that even made Damian raise an eyebrow.  “I am.” He didn’t even bother slamming the door as he stormed out.  As soon as he passed the threshold, he took off sprinting after Marinette.  She didn’t have the car keys so she was walking… in Gotham… while she was a target.  He cursed and picked up his speed to get to the car.

“B?” Dick asked cautiously.

“No.  No, no, no.” He shook his head violently and looked down, trying to steady his ragged breathing.  “I asked her parents.  I checked. They said she was fine.  They said it was okay.”  He looked up at Dick with haunted eyes.  “I checked.  I made sure.”

“Well you didn’t fucking check well enough did you?” Jason growled.  “You never asked her.”  He threw his napkin on the table and stalked out after Adrien to help comfort Marinette.  Duke looked between them for a moment before sprinting after Jason.

The rest of the family looked down at their plates, except Bruce who wasn’t looking at anything.  He pushed away from the table and stumbled back to his room, a sudden wave of nausea slamming into his body.  Dick opened his mouth a few times only to snap it shut again mutely.  Cass frowned but continued eating slowly. This was new information, but it didn’t change who Marinette was to her.  It was the same Marinette from earlier in the day.  But now she knew more.  Maybe they could bond over childhood trauma like she and Stephanie had.

Damian furrowed his brow and scowled at his food, unable to determine how to interpret the new information and blame Marinette for it. She had done it to herself, clearly. She had allowed herself to stay in that situation.  Obviously it was her own fault she suffered through that… like he had.  Not knowing who to be mad at, he shoved away from the table and went down to the cave to train.

Tim blankly watched him go.  This… this was unsalvageable.  This was… they’d let her down in so many ways.  Him with the gala.  Dick with the questioning Adrien.  Damian with the accusing her and insulting Adrien.  The entire family with the keeping secrets.  And Bruce with the… everything.  How were they supposed to bring this back?  They were worse than his family, his previous family.  The Drakes just ignored him.  They were actively destroying her.  

He took a deep breath and pushed away from the table too.  He would go down to the cave but Damian was already there.  He wanted to patrol, to actually protect someone, like he hadn’t protected her.  He stood up and made his way to the grandfather clock.  Fuck Demon Spawn.  Let him try to fight him right now.  Tim wasn’t in the mood and wouldn’t hold back.  Heaven help any rogues out tonight.

Chapter 16

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[toastedside]

In Health

Batmom!Reader x Batfamily

Warning: Angst, Angry Tim Drake

Note: I knoooooow it's been a while since I wrote this series and I actually have finished it a while ago. Just figure I want to share the rest. Enjoy!

Masterlist, Previous Chapter

You bit the inside of your cheeks, your eyes travelled constantly to the watch on your wrist. The iced coffee you ordered fifteen minutes ago already half gone. Metropolis was bright and sunny that day, the weather was warm and nice. A welcomed contrast to gloomy Gotham with its perpetual cloud.

The coffee shop Lois had told you about was buzzed with hungry patrons, considering it was almost lunchtime anyway. It was a breath of relief that nobody would recognize you on the first glance, something you had learned fairly quickly since Bruce had publicly claimed you years ago. If you went somewhere with shirts and jeans and nothing shiny, nobody would recognize you that you are Y/N Wayne.

You glanced into your watch again for the millionth time that day. Was the request to meet up too much for them? Were you too harsh on them back in the days? It’s unusual for–

“Hey, oh my god, we’re so sorry. Our meeting last longer than we expected.”

Lois suddenly came into frame. Behind her was a slightly disheveled Clark, eyeing her behind his glasses hesitantly. Something sank at the bottom of you stomach by the sight alone, perhaps you were indeed way too harsh on him.

“It’s alright, I didn’t wait that long anyway,” you mustered a white lie as you gestured them to take a seat across yours. “How’s Jon doing? I miss him coming over on the weekend.”

“He is fine. Clark and I bought him a video game console on his birthday and all he’s been doing was glued his eyes on the TV,” Lois rolled her eyes fondly at the topic of her own son, something you've been doing for years since you are a mother too. “How are the kids?”

“I figure Jon had been talking about his video games with Damian. He asked me if he could buy one just yesterday,” you laughed. “The kids are fine, per usual. Dick and Jason had been a little busy with their job, so they usually only come over on the weekend. Damian tried to woo me into adopt another pet again last week, Cass been practicing ballet a lot lately, and Tim... well... it’s been a little tough for him to fill Bruce’s shoes in the company but he’s doing well so far.”

There was a little shift in the air after you finished. Lois subtly adjusted her seat, silently sent a look towards her husband who looked a little too nervous to be comfortable. It would be funny to see Superman himself squirmed on his seat if the reason behind it didn’t left a bitter aftertaste.

“Lunch?” you swiftly opened the menu book to dissipate the growing tension and gently shoved it into Clark’s lap. “It’s on me.”

The lunch was surprisingly normal and calm, the thought of the dreading event was swept away underneath the nonexistent rug. Lois had been talking about the newest article she was writing about and Clark was obviously waltzed around carefully to not touching the superhero business, and you played your best to ignore it.

“Lois, Clark,” you started as everyone finally finished their lunch and the empty plates were taken away. “I am here to apologize for what I have done... three months ago. And what I might have said.”

There was silence hung in the air as Lois and Clark shared a look together. It was Lois who immediately reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. “Hon, you have nothing to apologize for. We understand, you were–”

“It was still rude and uncalled for, and my circumstance was a mere explanation. Especially to you, Clark,” you rolled your shoulders slightly to face Clark better, eyes fell into the balled fist on his lap. “You were only trying to explain, but I shut you out. I know you lost your best friend too that night and I am so sorry I didn’t try to reach you out sooner.”

“Y/N, it’s–”

“No, no, it’s not.” you breathed shakily. You had prepared your best for this inevitable conversation, but still unaware how painful it could be. “Bruce wouldn’t want me to act that way.”

Silence now had fallen completely and the air had shifted drastically. The only thing that grounded you from withering away and succumb into your own thought was Lois’s thumb gently stroking your wrist. Clark was stunned silent on his seat, the gears on his mind worked twice harder than it usually did in past three months. Nothing had prepared him for this conversation.

“Y/N, I forgive you. I already had long ago. I understand completely, and I would probably act worse if I were in your shoes,” Clark breathed out. All the tension in his shoulders that hinder him in the last forty-five minutes had dissipated into the thin air.

“Thank you,” you lifted your eyes to meet his. Sometimes you forgot how unnaturally blue his eyes were, cold and calculating, even though the corner of his eyes and the smile lines soften it out. It almost reminded you with Bruce. “Can you... can you tell me what happened that night? You were there with him, didn’t you?”

Lois and Clark shared another look, something told you that both knew what you didn’t. “Are you sure you want to hear this now?”

“I need my closure, Clark. And I’d love to know which son of a bitch that take my husband away.”

Clark told you everything in vivid details, the hairs on your shoulders stood in dread by the explanation alone. He talked about the League mission, the warehouse, and the explosion that had killed Bruce and suspected blown his body into unrecognizable tiny bits. By the time he was finished, you were close to tears, and was pleasantly surprised you didn’t weep your heart outs right away in a public place.

“One question,” you wiped the stubborn tears that started to well on your eyes. You mustered a silent thank you as Clark offered his handkerchief. “Was Red Robin there? Was Red Robin called for backup?”

“I can’t remember. What about him?”

You took a sharp breath, the image of Tim weeping on your lap and repeating his apology played inside your mind like a broken movie. “He obsessively investigating his death, saying it was his fault it happened in the first place.”

Lois tighten her grip on your hand and squeezed harder. It wasn’t a secret that your son was bad at letting go and coping with loss, but it had been a huge toll to knew he blamed himself for it. Clark sent you an apologetic look, and you were surprised that you didn’t dread the look.

“It wasn’t his fault. It was supposed to be an easy investigation, an in-and-out mission. Nobody could come prepared for the explosion,” Clark reassured you, although it was addressed more to Tim instead of you. “The machines...”

A sudden rang from Clark’s phone interrupted his words. He watched it rang briefly before let out a dreading, long sigh. “I’m so sorry, but I really need to take this.”

You smiled reassuringly. “Go on.”

Turns out, Lois and Clark had been called for another meeting and had to cut their meeting short. Lois had hugged you tight and drop a promise to come over by weekend for dinner. Clark left a lingering touch on your wrist, his eyes widen as if he had come into a realization he hadn’t before, but he left before he able to muster any single words.

The ride back to Gotham was long and tedious. The traffic had made the trip an hour and half longer than it was necessary, but the sunset at the horizon was a sight for sore eyes. The chance to catch a beautiful sunset was close to zero in Gotham, so you preserved the moment as much as you could. A little part of your soul wished Bruce could witness such sight with you.

You arrived right before dinnertime, the manor was surprisingly quiet, spared for some noises Alfred made in the kitchen as he prepared for dinner. One thing about Wayne household was silent wasn’t a good thing, and one should be suspicious if it happened.

“Where are the others? It’s eerily quiet.” your head popped up in the kitchen. “Alfred, it smells delicious. Are you making Shepherd’s pie again?”

“Miss Y/N, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t surprise me like that anymore,” Alfred deadpanned. “Yes, I am. How was your meeting?”

“It went well. I... I finally get the explanation I deserved,” you sat across the kitchen island, your bag fell into the floor as you did. “Thank you for convincing me into reaching out to him.”

Alfred pressed his lips together into a pleased smile. “You have found your closure, I assumed?”

“I don’t know about that, Alfred,” you admitted. “But it was great to finally know what happened and not left in the dark. Maybe it was a good step for me.”

“I believe so, Miss Y/N.”

“Are those teas for the kids?” you shifted the topic away into a tray full of teacups and biscuits. “Where are they?”

“All of them are cramped together in Batcave, I believe. Master Damian had asked me to brought them some teas.”

“Let me take it to them. You can continue bake your Shepherd’s Pie again.”

Alfred was hesitant, but he nodded away and shoved the tray into your embrace. It had been long overdue for you to step back into the Batcave anyway, figured this would be a great time for you to go back.

You forgot how much you hated the perpetual coldness the Batcave seemed to persistently have, no matter how many efforts everyone had put years ago into make this place warmer and comfortable. The sound of your children bickering with each other filled the cave and it made you smile, for all of its worth, you had always admired your children’s tendency to find things to argue about.

It was until the sound of fist slammed against the table that stopped you in your track and wiped away your smile.

“Stop it, Timbers, stop this fucking bullshit!” Jason’s voice roared, followed with the ear-ripping screeches of bats that had been awoken from their slumber by his roaring voice alone.

“I am telling you the truth!” Tim said heatedly, which was alarming. You quickly hid yourself in the shadows between the costume displays, finding yourself a better spot to watched your children without being known. “Why can’t you believe me?”

“Look at me in the eye and tell me that was not a fucking bullshit!”

“Tim, bud, come on. You need to stop. This isn’t healthy,” Dick’s concerned voice chimed in between the heated stares Jason and Tim exchanged. Your heart sank from that words alone, Tim must had investigating again. “You have us. We can get through this together. But not like this.”

“TT. Drake, you have started to creep me out,” Damian’s equally concerned voice, albeit masked with his usual scowl and sarcasm, piped in. “Also, you look like you hadn’t sleep since you were born.”

“Thanks for the flattery. But listen–”

“Stop it. Stop. Shut your mouth!” Jason yelled again. His finger intimidatingly pointed towards Tim, his eyes filled with rage and frustration. “Have you heard yourself talking?”

“Won’t you all give me a fucking minute to explain myself?” Tim stood from his chair; his fist crumpled together into a ball clenched on his side. It was such an eerie sight to see him so worked up like this. “Cass?”

You saw Cass silently shook her head. She sent Tim an apologetic smile as Tim groaned in frustration.

“Why none of you would just listen to me?”

“Tim, there is no way in hell Bruce is still alive!”

The roar that came from Dick was eerie, but it was his words that split your world into half. You didn’t realize the tray had slipped from your grasp until it clashed with cold floor, your gasp was masked with the loud clang of the tray hitting the floor and the sound of teacups shattered into pieces. All eyes followed towards the sound, and all were surprised to spot their mother was there.

You saw from the corner of your eyes that Dick walked towards you. His shoulders were tensed, his eyebrows furrowed together in frustration and anger. But your eyes fell on Tim whose eyes widen in horror upon realizing that your unknown presence was lurking all these times. You could mentally see the guilt that slowly seeped through his initial shock, the blue in his eyes waver slightly with the swirling guilt. You walked towards Tim, and from the look on his face alone, you wondered if you looked as if you were about to swallow him whole.

“Mom...” Tim croaked.

“Mom, it’s alright. It was nothing.”

“Ma, let’s go upstairs. It’s dinnertime, you never like it when we–”

“Tim.” The firmness on your voice effectively silence your two oldest sons out. Your hands gently placed on Tim’s shoulders as you shut your eyes and counted from one to ten. “Tell me everything.”

“W-what?”

“Tell me everything you know. Tell. Me. Everything.”

“Mom, I don’t think you should see it.”

“He was my husband, Tim. I deserve to know.”

Tim pressed his lips together, his eyes travelled up slowly before he let out a sigh. “Just tell me to stop when it gets too much.”

[wrenhyperfixates]

Don’t Gotta Work it Out

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: A particularly nasty fight rattles your relationship with Loki. Even as both of you wonder if you’re not meant to work things out, you long to be in each other’s arms. But can you make amenjds before your hope is gone? Warnings: mentions of depression; angst, some more angst, then a lot more angst, and finally a fluffy ending A/N: inspired by the song Don’t Gotta Work it Out by Fitz and the Tantrums. I’m experimenting with a new style, so flashbacks in italics! Hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki had signed himself up for the mission before the words even left Tony’s mouth. He didn’t care where he was going or what he was doing, just so long as he was away from you. You’d gotten into a fight—a bad one. Somehow, Loki’s way of dealing with it was running away. Whether that was because of pride, pettiness, or cowardice, he wasn’t really sure. Then again, he was avoiding thinking about it as much as possible.

“I have volunteered for a mission,” he told you, the sentence short and clipped as he entered your shared quarters. “I leave at midnight.”

“Oh,” you replied, rolling over on your bed so you were facing your boyfriend. He’d already grabbed his bag and started packing. “That’s nice.”

A small hum of acknowledgement was all he made in the way of a response. He perched on the edge of the bed as he tugged on his boots. Right as he finished with the last buckle and was making ready to stand, your arms suddenly encircled his waist. For a minute, the room was filled with hesitation and quiet breathing, a spell of tension only broken when Loki’s hand alighted on top of yours. Not to say everything was fixed between you two, but the anxious energy in the room calmed a bit.

“Just... Come back safe, ok?” you said, your voice so soft, it just barely registered in his mind.

“Alright,” he whispered back. Your forehead rested in between his shoulder blades, and his thumb involuntarily began rubbing small circles on your skin. “I will.”

How Loki wished for more, for the passionate kisses that you usually shared before a mission. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen now. It might even be wrong considering how mad you were at each other, everything you’d said. Though, if it really was wrong, Loki didn’t think he much would have minded; it still would have felt good. Felt normal. Not like whatever messed up situation you were in right now.

You and the trickster god had been dating for over a year and, as any couple would, had a few squabbles. But nothing like what you’d gone through the other day. Loki shuddered now, just thinking about it. It started out stupid, as these things tend to, but turned into something much more serious. He tried to push it from his mind as you placed a featherlight kiss to the base of his neck. Then you pulled away, hugging your knees to your chest. Now it was Loki’s turn to look at you. His hand hovered above your knee for a second before he lost his nerve and let it fall to the mattress.

“I have to go now,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”

You nodded, and Loki walked to the door, looking back at you one last time. You’d already rolled over so your back was to him again, but he could tell you were crying from the way you were breathing. It made his heart break, but all he could do was whisper a small “I love you” and hope you heard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh. You’re awake,” you said, entering your quarters.

“I am,” Loki replied, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. There was an open book in his lap, and you couldn’t help but wonder how long ago he’d given up on reading in favor of a contemplative trance, looking at the flames. “And you are home now. Are we all caught up?”

“Ok, it’s past someone’s bedtime,” you answered him, catching on to the ice in his voice. “And no, we’re not all caught up. What’s wrong?”

“You could have invited me.”

You’d gone bowling with roughly half the team, only leaving a note for Loki so he knew where you were. You huffed as you tossed your keys onto the dresser. Leaning back on it, you surveyed his face, set in a harsh manner.

“Sorry,” you shrugged. “You were in the shower, and I knew you wouldn’t want to come, anyway.”

“And what if I did?”

“Then, sorry again. You can come next time.”

“Oh, can I now?”

You pushed off the dresser and walked over to him, rubbing his shoulders a little. He didn’t shake you off, but he didn’t relax at all either. You frowned and walked around to the front of the chair, planting yourself in his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, but his face was still stuck in a scowl.

“What’s this really about?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It hardly matters.”

You clenched your jaw a bit. You love Loki, but it’s hard to deal with him when he gets like this.

“If you’re going to brush it off,” you said, forcing a smile, “then don’t act so obviously upset and angry. I’m always here to talk, but if you’re not going to, then don’t pick a fight.”

“It seems to me you are the one picking a fight.”

“Yeah, ok. Whatever,” you snapped, standing up. You waited for him to clench his fists or give some sign he was feeling something, but he was as unreadable as ever. “I’ll just never have fun without you. Sound good?”

“You are blowing this out of proportion, darling,” he drawled. “You can calm down.”

“Oh, can I now?” you answered with a smug smile, the petty parts of you egging you on to parrot back his words from earlier.

He sprung up from his chair and approached you fast as lightning. It startled you, and you gasped, walking until your back was against the wall. Loki menaced over you, placing one hand next to your head. He made sure to leave the other side open so you could get away if you really wanted to. You didn’t, instead staring defiantly into his eyes.

“You should,” he growled. “Just invite me next time and drop this nonsense.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as he made to spin away from you. “Just because no one’s ever cared to listen to you before doesn’t mean you get to make yourself a martyr.”

Your hands immediately flew to your mouth. Loki had shared everything about his past with you. Really and truly, every painful memory. Every ugly, gritty moment. You knew how much stuff like that damaged him. He spun back around, rage plain on his face, and a deep hurt lurking behind his eyes.

“Loki, I’m so sorry,” you said, rushing toward him. “I didn’t mean-”

He put up a hand to stop both your words and approach. “No. I think you did. It is my fault for believing a mortal of all beings could have any depth of understanding, of feeling. For thinking you could love me. The joke is on me, I suppose, hmm?”

He scoffed and stalked toward the door, refusing to let you see the tears in his eyes. He was yanking on the knob before you could even say his name again. The last thing he saw before slamming the door behind him was you crumpling on the ground in a sobbing mess. As he stomped down the hall, his own tears began to pour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Loki, are you even trying to sleep?” Bruce asked from across the hotel room.

Tony had taken a room for himself and stuck Bruce and Loki together in an adjoining one. Thankfully, it had two beds, but Loki was still a little pissed. Honestly, he’d considered just skipping the hotel and going on a walk, a long walk. Instead, he was laying with his eyes open and glued to the ceiling, reliving the fight in his mind over and over again.

“Yes, Banner, I am,” the god huffed. “I am just not having any success.”

“Is there... something on your mind?” Bruce hesitantly asked. He and Loki were far from best friends, but he figured it would be considerate to ask.

“Actually, there is,” he sighed.

“Do you, uh, want to... talk about it?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “I suppose you are a doctor, after all.”

“Not that kind but-”

“My beloved and I have gotten into an argument, and now I am on this mission. So, we have not made up. I fear we never will.”

“Oh, come one. I’ve seen you two. How bad could it be?”

Loki sighed and sat up on the bed, recounting the story. He did his best to keep the tears out of his eyes and emotion out of his voice, and was met with far more success on the first front than the second.

“Yikes,” Bruce said when he finished. “I mean, they tried to say they didn’t mean it. And I’m sure you didn’t either. So maybe just try to talk?”

“Perhaps. Or maybe we are not supposed to work it out.”

“That’s crazy. Look at you right now; you can’t stop thinking about them.”

“And do you think they are thinking of me?”

“You know what, yeah. I do.”

Loki just mumbled his thanks and flipped onto his side so he was facing the wall now. Bruce went back to sleep, and Loki prayed that slumber would claim him. It did not, and he spent the whole night wishing for you. That he had never said those awful things. That he had never even been given the opportunity to know you, for if he didn’t, he never would have hurt you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You laid on the floor crying for hours. The notion that Loki would come back and wrap you in a hug and talk about what happened didn’t leave you be for hours. And then, all of a sudden, it did. Then you just felt empty and tired. Somehow, you managed to pick yourself up and drag yourself into bed, still in your clothes from the day. You waited another hour, still believing Loki would come back, if even just to lay beside you in the bed you shared and say nothing. When it became clear he wouldn’t, you submit to the tears still stinging the back of your eyes, and cried yourself to sleep.

Waking up the next morning, you didn’t immediately remember what had happened. You felt the empty space next to you where your boyfriend usually was. You listened for the running water of the shower that you could always hear on the mornings he wasn’t beside you. The silence was deafening.

“Loki?” you called out to the vacant room.

Only the echo of your voice answered you. Suddenly, the memory of the night before came crashing back into your mind. A strangled sob escaped your lips. You desperately looked around, frantically searching, begging, for some sort of sign that he’d returned in the night and had just left before you awakened. There was no indication that such a thing had happened.

Moving on autopilot, you found yourself in the shower. You tried to wash, but mainly just stood there and let the scalding spray run over you. Eventually, the stream turned cold as you used up the last of the warm water. You always enjoyed how plushy the towels in the Tower were, but you hardly noticed it as you dried off. Some water still dripping off you, you pulled on your robe. The mirror revealed that your eyes were still a little puffy from crying. Your pruny fingers touched the reddened skin, but you couldn’t be bothered to do anything to cover it up.

“You’re back,” you gasped, walking back out into the bedroom.

He was sitting in a chair, different from the one last night, this time actually reading the book he had. He looked so composed that it made you embarrassed by your appearance. You were sure he was just as much a mess on the inside as you were, though. At least you hoped he was.

“Mhm,” he replied. “And you are dripping on the carpet.”

You looked down where, surely enough, a small wet spot was gathering from the droplets rolling off your body. Everything was moving at half speed in your mind because of how drained you were, both physically and emotionally.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

He didn’t even really acknowledge it as he sidestepped around you and into the bathroom. A few seconds later, you heard the shower turn on. Summoning all your strength, you managed to get dressed for the day, encasing yourself in your most comfortable clothes. You looked at the door and considered getting something to eat, but the pull of your warm blankets was too great. The bed, devoid of your lover, reminded you too much of last night, though. You grabbed the blankets off and swaddled yourself in them on the couch. You tried to shut out the world and go back to sleep. It didn’t work.

“Darling?” Loki softly called as the bathroom door opened.

You wanted to reply, you really did, but it felt like too much effort to peel your eyes open and will your voice to work. So, you listened as he padded over to where you were. He sighed and left, leaving your quarters silent once more. You didn’t even have the energy left to cry.

Roughly ten minutes later, you heard the god come back in and set something on the coffee table. The aroma of pancakes, bacon, and tea flooded your senses seconds after, and you felt your heart somehow swell and break at the same moment. Loki’s hand softly touched your cheek and caressed it so gently, it seemed he was afraid you might break.

“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered.

Loki kissed the top of your head as gently as he had touched your cheek, his damp hair tickling your skin. He stood up and, though you couldn’t see, felt him turn and look at you once more. Then the door closed, and the strength to cry returned to your body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Please, Steve,” you beseeched. “Just tell me where he is.”

“I’m sorry, you know I can’t.” He truly did look hurt that he had to keep this from you, especially when he noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “It’s top secret.”

You were trying to figure out where Loki was, if he was ok. You should have asked him more about the mission; he would have told you where he was going, rules be damned. But you hadn’t, so he hadn’t, and now he’d been gone for three days with no word on when he’d return. You tried his cell phone, but Steve had at least informed you that they had to turn off anything that could be tracked for the mission.

You felt so awful about what you’d said, the guilt gnawing at your heart every minute of every day, every dream of every night. If he were to die before you could work it out... you just didn’t know what you would do. Even if you never made up, you just needed him to make it back safely. Maybe you didn’t have to work it out, shouldn’t. Maybe you were a toxic poison ruining his life. Refusing to cry in front of Steve, you pushed the thought from your mind.

“But he’s my boyfriend. Doesn’t that count for something more than the rules?” you pleaded, the look of desperation in your eyes only growing.

“Sorry, but it doesn’t. Look, it would be different if you were married. What I can tell you,” he said with a sigh, and a quick glance over his shoulder, “is that he’s alive and safe.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled. “I guess that’s something, at least. When will he be back?”

“Soon, ok?”

“Ok,” you sniffled again.

You trudged over to the couch in the common room, trying to spend time someplace other than your room for the first time since the fight. Besides quick meals, you’d just been moping in your quarters. The thought crossed your mind that you were probably depressed, that you should get up and exercise or move about. Despite the knowledge of that, you couldn’t actually muster up the willpower to act on it. Instead, you flipped on the TV and pulled the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa snugly around your shoulders. The voice of Gordon Ramsey faded into background noise as you stared out the window, foolishly and fruitlessly hoping that you’d see Loki’s ship flying in.

“Monday,” Steve sighed, setting a mug of hot chocolate on a coaster for you.

“What?” you asked, slightly bewildered after abruptly being pulled from your trance.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you, but Loki’s coming back on Monday.” Steve sat beside you and comfortingly pat your back as you expressed your gratitude. “Can I give you some advice, though?”

“Please.”

“Whatever happened between you two, you can work it out. I promise.”

“I just feel so bad, Steve. I said something horrible that I never should have.” You bit your lip before continuing, nervous you were oversharing. The way your companion was sympathetically nodding his head, however, urged you on. “And then he said something awful too. And now he’s gone, and no one will even tell me where to find him. Maybe it’s a sign that we shouldn’t work it out. That we’re not right for each other.”

“Come on, that’s just the fear talking. I know sometimes the team grumbles about you guys, but it’s only because you’re so sweet together.” He waited for some sign of recognition that what he was saying was true to click on your face before continuing. “Take it from me, you don’t want to let an opportunity to pass you by; even more so when it comes to being with someone you love. You have to make the most of every moment. But you also have to be willing to work through your disagreements, even if they’re particularly bad. Heck, especially then.”

“Thanks, Steve.” You managed a smile. It was small, but it was also the first one that had made its way onto your face in nearly a week. Not only did you realize you had great friends surrounding you, but you felt a spark of hope that you could repair things with Loki. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. Now, want to come for a training session? Take your mind off things for a bit?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m still not really feeling up to it. But soon, I promise,” you added when a flash of worry danced across his face.

He gave a nod and one final friendly pat on the shoulder, then was off. You went back to staring out the window, now gently sipping on your cocoa. It was still a bit too hot, and it burnt your tongue a little. You knew you should wait until it cooled, but the pain kept you tethered to the earth instead of floating away. You also knew what Loki would say to that so, after a few more sips, you set it down to let it become a more drinkable temperature. As you waited, you let your mind be filled with thoughts of Loki, wondering if he was thinking of you too. Soon, your eyes were drooping shut, and you succumbed to dreams of happier times with your beloved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day passed much the same, with you pretending to be asleep. Loki knew you were awake at some point, at least, to eat the food he’d brought. Otherwise, he would have flown into a panic that his little mortal was unwell. Or, more unwell than just in an emotional sense, anyway. There was one point where he saw your eyes crack open and look at him as he sat nearby, switching between reading and thinking. You didn’t say anything, though, so neither did he.

“Brother?” Thor said, knocking at the door. “Are you two in there?”

Loki rushed to the door and, opening it, shushed the God of Thunder. He gently closed the door behind him as not to wake you, thinking you may really be asleep now.

“We are, brother,” he whispered. “Why?”

“The team has not seen either of you all day. Is everything alright? Are either of you ill? Or perhaps you’re just having fun in there?” Thor playfully elbowed his brother in the ribs and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, and why are we whispering?”

“Because my beloved is sleeping.” Loki felt a prick of fear in his heart. Maybe he had lost the privilege of calling you his beloved. “We are ok. Relatively.”

“Relatively?”

“Yes. We... We had a fight,” Loki exhaled. “It was not pretty.”

“But you are going to work it out, right?” Thor sighed when Loki said nothing. “Oh, come on, brother. You must talk to them.”

“I will. At some point.”

With some final words of encouragement, Thor let his brother be. Loki took a deep breath and reentered his room. You were sitting up on the couch, twiddling with your thumbs, eyes cast down. He tentatively sat at the end by your feet. Elbows on his knees, he buried his head in his hands.

“Well,” he said to the floor, “are we going to talk about it?”

He felt you flinch at how angry he sounded, while he mentally kicked himself for the same reason. He peeked out from behind his hands, trying to compose himself so he could speak to you in a calm voice.

“I mean,” you said, “if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, and you do not want it?” he snapped, silently cursing himself again.

“Please,” you scoffed, “don’t do anything for my sake.”

Now you were both angry at yourselves, and completely honestly, the other too. When it became clear neither of you was going to say anything else, Loki stood to leave. He spun back around when he heard you mumble something under your breath.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said in a too-sweet voice, making the pet name sound more like a threat or a mockery than anything else. “I did not quite get that. Would you like to speak up?”

“Yeah,” you snarled, this time loud enough for him to hear. “I said, ‘so you’re really just gonna walk out again, huh?’”

“Oh, allow me to apologize. I must have been making myself a martyr again, hmm? Was that not what you said last night? Or perhaps that was just me blowing things out of proportion again?” He looked down at you as a panic flooded every inch of your body. Loki wanted to stop, but his floodgates had been opened. “But I thought that no one cared to listen to me. Again, I do believe those are your words, not mine.”

“That’s not- I didn’t- I’m not-” you struggled to form a coherent sentence. “I didn’t mean that!”

“No? But it is what you said. Perhaps it was that ever condemning Freudian slip of the tongue? Or do you think yourself so special, mortal, that you care? For I know no one else ever has; I did not need you to tell me that,” he spat.

“You know what?” you laughed without mirth. “You’re right, this isn’t what I want.”

Loki knew he’d pushed too far. His voice grew immensely softer as he spoke again. Not in a kind way, but in a way that showed he was afraid.

“And what exactly, do you mean by ‘this’?”

“This, what we’re doing now. I don’t know what it is, but if it’s your way of talking about what’s wrong and working it out, it’s not what I want. I guess you should just go, Loki.”

Loki hated himself. No, that wasn’t strong enough. He loathed himself, utterly and completely. He slammed the door behind him, and immediately sank back against it, falling to the floor. Neither of you heard the other’s sobs over your the sound of your own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though Monday was only two days after Steve told you it would be the date of Loki’s arrival, it felt like years elapsed in those forty-eight hours. By some miracle that, you thought with a tiny laugh, Loki would have said was thanks to the Norns, you managed to get yourself into a presentable state. Shower? Check. Teeth brushed? Check. Eyes normal and not red from crying? As checked as it could be.

Steve had promised that he’d get Loki to go to your room straight away. You figured if you two were going to have it out again, it should be in private. Though, you were hoping it would go a great deal better than last time. You could only hope that some time and space was all the two of you would need to finally work through this.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the doorknob turned and Loki shuffled in. The door softly clicked shut behind him, and you tried to quell your worry that your conversation would end with him slamming it again. He dropped his bag at his feet, and for a second, the world stopped. You just looked at each other, both too afraid to end the moment of peace.

“I am back,” he gently said, opening his arms to you.

You took a single hesitant step forward before fully launching yourself into his arms. He caught you with surprising grace, and though he seemed unsure of himself, calmly rubbed your back.

“Can we... Can we try again?” you asked, pulling back enough so you could look into his beautiful, blue-green eyes. “The working things out, I mean. Can we try that again?”

“Yes, my darling.” The pet name had returned to something more gentle, holding the usual care and affection it did. “I’d love nothing more.”

Hand in hand, you walked toward the couch. This time you sat with bodies angling towards each other, already starting off on a high note. It made both of you feel the other was much more willing to listen to what you had to say.

“Shall I start?” he asked, cupping your cheek.

“No, I want to go first.” Your hand rested on top of his and you leaned into his touch. “If that’s alright with you?”

“It is. Please, speak your mind, my sweet.”

You took a steadying breath before you began. “Look, I’m so sorry for what I said. I was frustrated, and I lashed out. But that’s no excuse for it. I never in a million years should have said what I did. It was wrong and insensitive. And I do care for you so, so much on so, so many different levels. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that. I will spend every day of the rest of my life reassuring you that I love you, Loki. I love you.”

“I accept your apology, and I love you, too.” A single tear rolled down his cheek, but you knew it was from happiness. After all, several tears of the same emotion had fallen down your own cheeks. “Now, it is my turn to say I am sorry. I was unreceptive, pushy, snappy, and cruel. I should not have responded in that manner, and I should have been more open to working through the problem. My insecurities got the better of me, but I promise I will try to keep them at bay. Because I have you, darling, and I love you. And I have no doubt that you do feel the same.”

“I forgive you, too, Loki. I’m ready to put this behind us if you are.”

“Absolutely I am,” he replied, smiling—really smiling—for what felt like the first time in a century. “And, if I may be so bold, I do believe we have a week’s worth of kisses to make up for.”

“The math checks out,” you giggled, leaning in. “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed if you wanted to start playing catch up now.”

“It is like you have read my mind.”

You gave him one quick peck on the lips before he pulled you flush against him and kissed you like there was no tomorrow. Maybe it was because he’d been so worried that there wouldn’t be. But, in the end, there was. Because you worked it out. Because you loved each other. Because you were two hearts connected as one in the crazy journey called life. And you’d always find a way to work through your differences. For, deep down, you both knew you were meant to be together, would always find your way back to each other. There was nothing either of you believed more, and you’d never doubt it again.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

It’s Always Been You ~ 143

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,600ish

Summary: Surprisingly, more secrets come out. A final plan is formed.

Notes: Please read the ending note. You must read Out Of Time in order to understand this. The chapter numbers continue from Out Of Time. (gifs aren’t mine)

“She’s not the only one whose kept secrets, Steve,” Natasha said, once Y/N was clearly gone. “We all have.”

“This is different,” Steve argued, mad. “This has to do with half the universe turning into dust and the man who did it. She should have told us so that we could have—“

“Done what, Steve?!” Tony retorted. “Spent the past five years planning and waiting for something to happen?! That’s not a way to live! I know that because I’ve lived that! I’ve tried to do that!” Tony took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he backed away from everyone. “I may be the only one who feels this way, but I wouldn’t change the last five years. Yes, I miss people terribly and feel the guilt of what happened constantly. But I finally have the family I’ve always longed for. I have a daughter who is my whole world, and a wife who fights for what she loves.” 

“Her telling us everything wouldn’t have changed when Scott came back or when I put the pieces together about time travel,” Tony continued. “Keeping that a secret didn’t change anything.”

“Tony’s right,” Clint spoke up. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

Tony and Clint nodded at each other. Tony knew it had to be hard for Clint to admit that, especially since he had lost his whole family. Steve clenched his jaw, frustrated.

“Steve,” Natasha called calmly, “have you ever thought about how many times you get angry at Y/N for keeping things from you?”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything,” Steve said.

“You freak and turn around and blame everything on her. Maybe she doesn’t tell you things because she knows that you won’t react in the best way. And you doubt her, so much.”

“How is this now about me?”

“I’m sorry, isn’t everything?” Tony retorted. The two men glared at each other in silence for a moment, the tension getting thick. “I’m going to go check on my wife.”

~~~

“Hey Pepper,” Y/N greeted, video calling her friend. 

“Hey Y/N,” Pepper replied. 

“Is Morgan up?”

“I’m sorry, I put her to bed already.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is something wrong though? You seem a little down.”

“I just… can you poke me in there for a second? I just need to see her.”

“Of course.” Pepper began heading to Morgan’s room. “She really misses you guys.”

“We miss her too.”

Pepper quietly opened Morgan’s door and reached her hand in so that Y/N could see the little girl on the phone. Morgan was sound asleep, clinging onto the Iron Man stuffy that Tony had bought her. Y/N’s eyes slowly filled with tears as she longed to hold her child.

“Thank you, Pep,” Y/N said softly. 

“Of course,” the woman replied.

“Tell her we’ll call her tomorrow. And that we love her.”

“Y/N, what’s up?”

“This is all just getting more real. And I don’t want something to happen with Morgan knowing her parents love her.”

“Nothing’s going to happen. You and Tony are going to be fine.”

Y/N gave her friend a tight lipped smile, clearly not believable. “Thanks for taking care of her for us, Pep. Good night.”

Y/N sighed after hanging up, leaning back against the headboard. She closed her eyes and sucked in her lips. She had never missed her abilities more in the last five years, then at this very moment. She wished she could simply portal herself home, to hold her child. But Y/N couldn’t, and she knew she needed to stay at the compound and finish out the mission. No matter the cost.

“Are you okay?” Tony’s voice was quiet as he leaned in the doorway, worried eyes raking over his wife.

“I’m fine,” she answered, not bothering to open her eyes.

Tony sighed before he walked over and sat himself on the bed. He made sure he wasn’t touching her, not wanting to press. “I let Steve have it after you left. It wasn’t right for him to do that. Red even had my back.” Y/N didn’t respond. “Honey… I’m sorry.” He set a comforting hand on her leg. “I know that I’ve pushed you in the past for not saying anything. But I’m beginning to see the weight that the Stones have placed on you. I’m so sorry.”

“He will never understand,” Y/N breathed out quietly. “He hasn’t been able to since he came out of the ice… I lived 5 years with believing he was dead. I changed in that time and he has never been able to accept that… but doesn’t make it hurt any less. He’s still my twin…” Y/N finally opened her eyes and met Tony’s. She reached out and took his hand from her leg. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For standing with me.”

“I made vows to do so. I never intend on breaking them.” 

She pulled him closer to her. She wrapped herself around him, earning a light chuckle. 

“Can we stay like this the rest of the night?” She whispered.

“Of course,” Tony answered, kissing her hairline. “We can stay like this as long as you like.”

~~~

In the morning, the couple ate breakfast in bed before venturing out to face the rest of the group. Everyone was seemingly trying to act normal, but Steve. Every time he glanced Y/N’s way, it was harsh. Cold and unforgiving. Tony kept himself at Y/N’s side as the group began going over the Tesseract.

“Our first major run in with the Tesseract, or Space Stone, was back in the 40’s,” Steve explained. He was standing in front of everyone, pictures, videos and information were playing on the screens behind him. “HYDRA’s then leader, Red Skull, was using it to create mass energy weapons. Y/N and I were on Red Skull’s plane when it took off to bomb major cities around the world.” Steve looked at Y/N. “Would you like to tell the rest of it?”

She pursed her lips, trying to keep her emotions in check. “Sure.” She stood up and went to the front of the room. “As Steve said, we were in the ship. I was trying to get to the controls and the Tesseract, when it could knocked loose. It portaled Red Skull away. I…” Y/N paused with a sigh. She hadn’t recounted this story since she woke up. “I grabbed the cube as it fell, burning my hand. Dropping it, it burned a hole in the floor causing both myself and the cube to fall. I grabbed onto it as a fell…” Y/N looked down at her scarred hand, rubbing it nervously. “Howard Stark later found it in his search for Steve and I.”

“After that, it was in SHIELD’s hands,” Y/N continued. “And, from what Carol has added to the record, a scientist who was trying to save the Skrull species. From their Fury began tests on it and began making weapons of his own. That’s how the Battle of New York started… Being control by the Mind Stone himself, Loki came and took the Tesseract. He used it to open a giant portal, letting the Chitauri army through.” 

More video footage began being played of that day behind her. The all watched, with those who were there remembering the day like it was yesterday.

“How long did you fight these guys?” Rocket asked.

“About, uh, two or three hours,” Natasha responded. She looked at Tony who nodded along in agreement.

“The Chitauri are the suckiest army in the galaxy. Why didn’t you just blow up the mothership?”

“We didn’t know that was a thing,” Steve said.

“You didn’t know that was a thing?” Rocket laughed. Tony stood up from his seat, shaver in hand. (He was shaving as he was listening.) He went up behind Rocket and shaved some of his hair on top of his head. “Everyone knows— Hey!”

“There we go,” Tony said. “All better.”

“Tony was the one to send the missile up through the portal, successfully destroying the mother ship,” Y/N explained. “I closed the portal.” She looked at Tony, who met her eyes. “Luckily, we all came out of it alive.”

“Not all of us,” Clint commented. “We lost a good one that day. Phil Coulson.”

“Yeah… about that… Fury actually brought him back to life.”

“What?!” Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Steve exclaimed. The four quickly noticed at Bruce and Tony weren’t phased.

“Did you two know about this?” Natasha asked.

“Yes,” Bruce answered, “but only because it was vital. We were helping Skye—“

“Daisy,” Tony and Y/N corrected together.

“—and Y/N with their new found powers. Phil was a big part in that.”

“Those missions… that base you would talk about… SHIELD suddenly resurfacing,” Steve mumbled, putting the pieces together. “You leaving to save your Team… You kept SHIELD and Coulson alive, right under our noses.”

“Again, I was only doing what was right,” Y/N defended herself. “We saved the world countless more times than anyone even realized, including the other heroes in this room…. Coulson’s team is the reason we found Loki’s scepter. And in Sokovia, the helicarrier Fury brought was from Coulson. He had found it and patched it back together.”

“Sif,” Thor whispered. “She was so very vague about the two times she was down here.”

“She was keeping the secret. If people knew that Coulson was alive, it would have changed the game.”

“How did he survive?” Natasha asked.

“It was called the TAHITI Program. Fury directed Coulson to head it. It was meant for a fall of an Avenger. To bring them back if anything were to happen in battle. After years of trials, it was disbanded. The side affects were awful… but then Coulson died. And Fury couldn’t accept that.”

“Who else knew?” Steve asked.

“Besides Fury, Tony, Bruce, Sif, and myself,  Maria Hill, our SHIELD teams, and many government officials worldwide. Including President Ellis.”

Steve scoffed. “All the secrets,” he muttered, shaking his head. “This is getting ridiculous.”

“Where is Phil now?” Natasha asked. “Did he survive?”

“He died right before the Blip,” Y/N answered. “Complications from the TAHITI Program and other things that had happened… Please don’t be angry. I understand that it seems like I’ve kept some big things from everyone. But you have to try and understand it from my point of view.”

Everyone was silent, not knowing what to say. Y/N stood in the front of the room, preparing for the attack on her. But it never came. Steve stormed out and the others from the original team followed, including Tony and Bruce. Y/N closed her eyes, trying to keep herself calm.

“I know that I’m new here and don’t know much,” Scott said, standing up to go to Y/N. “But I know that you have a good heart. And that you were only trying to protect everyone.”

She looked at him with a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, Scott.”

~~~

“It’s just one thing after another with her!” Steve exclaimed. “Is everything a lie? It’s like I don’t even know who she is anymore!”

“Steve, I think we need to stay calm and look at this from her said,” Natasha said. “She has been trying to protect everyone, except herself. The whole time she was going from fight to fight without much of a break.”

“It’s true,” Tony agreed. “I personally witnessed the wear and tear it did to her.”

“When she got shot after SHIELD fell, was that because of Coulson?” Steve asked, marching up to Tony.

“It wasn’t because of Coulson. It was because someone on her team ended up being HYDRA.”

Steve ran a hand down her face. “I don’t know where the lies stop and the truth begins.”

“She never actually lied to you,” Natasha brought up. “She told you what she could and kept the rest to herself. To protect everyone.”

“She still should have told us about Coulson,” Clint spoke up. “He was important to all of us.”

“Coulson and Fury specifically instructed her that the team not know,” Tony explained. “She actually got in trouble for telling me and Bruce.”

“But again we had to know,” Bruce said. “Y/N and Skye—“

“Daisy.”

“—had suddenly gained powers. If anyone was going to be able to help them, it was going to be us.”

“I need some time to think,” Steve said, walking away.

“We really shouldn’t be focusing on this right now,” Bruce sighed, shaking his head. “We should be focusing on the Stones. What Y/N kept from us is not the priority.”

“As long as she tells us any other information that could be of use to us,” Natasha said. 

“She will,” Tony promised.

“I can’t imagine she’s taking this well,” Clint mentioned.

“She’s not really showing very much, trying to keep it all in. But I don’t blame her. Steve’s been going after her since he got out of the ice.”

“It’s hurting both of them,” Natasha said. “It’s like they want it to be how is was before the ice. Yet, they both have changed.”

“I don’t think Steve’s willing to see it the most,” Bruce added. “It’s going to tear them apart when we need them to work together the most right now.”

“Together, they can be one of the best teams.”

Tony sighed. “Let’s finish getting the information on the Stones. Then we can worry about the rest of it.”

~~~

They all gathered back together to go over more about the Stones. They finished all the new on the Tesseract and Space Stone before moving to the Mind Stone. It was hard to talk about that one, since Vision was a big part of it.

“Where’s Vision now?” Scott asked.

“We brought him back to the Compound, but the Accords and his own will forced us to give his body to an organization called SWORD,” Natasha explained. “They were forced to dismantle him because of the Accords.”

“We were too late in getting him to Wakanda,” Bruce explained. “So there was no way to bring him back without the Stone.”

“Hopefully that the only permanent casualty we take from all this,” Tony commented, bringing Y/N closer to his side.

“That wasn’t the only life lost,” Nebula said. “My sister, Gamora, she died too.”

They took on the Soul Stone next. There was very little information on it besides what Y/N and Nebula knew.

“Thanos found the Soul Stone on Vormir,” Nebula explained.

“What is Vormir?” Natasha asked, taking notes.

“A dominion of death, at the very center of Celestial existence. It’s where… Thanos murdered my sister.”

Everyone sat there awkwardly, and saddened. Not knowing what to say or do.

“Not it,” Scott said, breaking the awkward silence.

“Y/N,” Steve called, in this stern Captain voice. “Do you know anything about the Soul Stone that could possibly help us?”

“I know that it is a very power Stone in its own right. With it I was able to conjure the spiritual representation of those who are dead.”

“What?” A few gasped. Tony reached over and grabbed her hand.

“I saw…” She paused, swallowing her emotions down. “I saw my unborn son, AJ, my parents, and Phil Coulson.”

“Our parents?” Steve questioned. Y/N responded with a simple nod. “How could you not tell me?”

“At the time we weren’t talking, and it never came up later.”

“I can’t—“

“Guys,” Natasha stood up in the middle, placing herself between the siblings. “Stop fighting. We have something bigger we need to focus on, and if you can’t see that you both can leave.”

“I’m not the one with the problem,” Steve growled.

Holding the tip of her tongue between her teeth, she silently watched Steve. She was trying to put her thoughts together when Tony decided to speak up.

“Seriously, Rogers, cut the bullshit,” Tony said. “I get you’re probably hurt that she never told you anything. But that doesn’t give you the right to make her your personal emotional punching bag. Crap happened and she didn’t tell you, but she’s telling you now.”

“You know…” Y/N began slowly. “I miss the days when it was you, Bucky, and I against the world. Just like you do. The days you trusted me and didn’t doubt me, no matter what… you blame this all on me, Steve? Fine! But communication is a two way street. Just remember that. I’m not the only one that’s kept secrets. Like the one about Howard and Bucky.” That left Steve silent. “I’ll be in the other room, trying to put a plan together if anyone needs me.” She left.

“Go work out some energy, Steve,” Natasha suggested. “We’ll take it from here.”

~~~

Tony found Y/N laying on a table with FRIDAY talking to her about the Time Stone.

“Mute,” Tony ordered, coming into the room.

“If you’re here to talk about Steve, I’m not listening,” Y/N responded, looking at the ceiling.

“I figured. That’s why I came to join you and help.” Tony leaned over Y/N and gently kissed her.

“Uh, guys,” Bruce broke in before the couple could get heated. They turned to see Bruce and Nat standing in the doorway. “We just came to see if you needed any help. Everyone else needed a break.”

“Help would be great,” Y/N responded.

Tony crawled up onto the table, sitting by Y/N, while Y/N sat up. Bruce and Nat came in further and the four of them began going through everything they knew about the Time Stone and trying to form the most logical plan to collect the Stones. After of few hours of nothing coming together, Tony and Y/N were back laying on the table. Bruce was laying on the floor with Natasha leaned up against him.

“That Time Stone guy…” Natasha began again.

“Doctor Strange,” Bruce corrected.

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?”

“Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit from a hat,” Tony answered, spinning his glasses in one hand while rubbing his eyes.

“Something neuro,” Y/N clarified.

“Nice place in the village, though,” Bruce added.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “Sullivan Street.”

“Hmmm… Bleecker.”

“Wait, he lived in New York?” Natasha wondered.

“No. He lived in Toronto,” Tony scoffed. “Were you even paying attention?”

“Guys, if you pick the right year, there are three Stones in New York.”

Bruce sat up in surprise saying, “Shut the front door.”

~~~

The team was quickly gathered and Y/N explained the best points for them to go.

“Okay, we will retrieve the Soul and Power Stones in space 2014; the Reality Stone on Asgard in 2013; and the Space, Mind, and Time Stones in New York City in 2012,” she told them, pulling the information up on the screens. 

“Now all we need are to assign the teams,” Tony stated. 

“I’ve sketched out a plan and would like to get everyone’s opinions.” 

They all glanced Steve’s way, waiting for the Captain to say something. He simply glared, arms crossed over his chest.

“Shoot,” Clint encouraged, when Steve didn’t speak up.

“So, due to certain knowledge of events, I believe that we need to try and stick to our own timelines, even though it could be dangerous,” Y/N explained. “We know our own timelines best. Where to avoid, where the Stones would be found, all that jazz. With that in mind, I was thinking Thor would go to Asgard, Rocket and Nebula would go to space, and the rest of us would go to New York.”

“The teams need to be evened out,” Steve spoke up, not impressed.

“I was just getting to that. I was going to see if anyone was going to volunteer to retrieve any of the Stones. I believe we need at least two people on each mission. And remember, the space mission is actually two separate missions.”

“I’ll go with Thor,” Rocket offered. “I think I could probably help the best there.”

“Thank you Rocket.”

“I can go with Nebula,” Rhodey said. “I’m not familiar with any of the spots, so I might as well.” Y/N nodded in agreement, making a note of it.”

“I should stay in 2012,” Tony said. “Being back in the Tower, I might have to break into JARVIS.”

“Agreed,” Y/N.

“I’ll stay in 2012 as well,” Steve said. “I also think Scott could be a good asset with us as well.”

“Sounds great,” Scott nodded along.

“Bruce, I was thinking that you and I could go and speak to the Ancient One and get the Time Stone,” Y/N suggested. “I have a feeling it will take some convincing to take the Stone from her.”

“Okay,” Bruce agreed.

“That leaves Clint and Natasha. Since you guys are a good team, how do you feel about hitting up Vormir for the Soul Stone?”

The two looked at each other and nodded, before looking back at Y/N.

“We can do that,” Clint said.

“Awesome,” Y/N responded. “Now we just need specifics for each mission. Break off into teams and use the information to create a specific plan.”

Everyone split off and created plans for their team. Coming back together, each plan was explained.

“Alright,” Steve claimed the attention once the final plan was laid out, “we have a plan. Six Stones, three teams. One shot. Take the night to get things together and rest, we’ll meet up and head out in the morning.”

next chapter >

I know that this fighting and secrets thing is probably annoying, but I promise there is a point to it. Please be patient with me. Thank you.

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[meekmedea]

buried again pt.2 ~ the aftermath

pt.1 here

``

There’s a quiet rustle and Grant tenses slightly, but he doesn’t let her go. Nor does she loosen her grip on him. 

“Let her go. Atlas.”

Medea’s heart falls at Bruce’s words. Couldn’t he see….

Grant doesn’t move to let go of her, but shifts so that she won’t be in the crossfire should anything be thrown at them.

`

“I–” she starts hesitantly. I could let go. But for some reason, she can’t get the words out. 

As if guessing her thoughts, he says, “No. Don’t.” 

His grip on her tightens and she leans into it. Her heart is pounding rapidly, still trying to make sense of everything. It wasn’t real, she wasn’t in the coffin anymore. She was safe. 

`

“Hood,” says Bruce carefully. You might say that he sounded worried. But she knows better than to think that. The tone in his voice reeked of disappointment and disapproval.

“No,” she mumbles. Then louder, she repeats herself. “Don’t come closer.”

To her annoyance, there’s a buzz from Dick’s escrima sticks as he lands beside Bruce. “Atlas. Your fight isn’t with her. Let her go.”

Grant laughs, a harsh sound from his helmet, but she doesn’t flinch. “No.”

`

While he’s talking to them, Medea feels a flurry of taps from Grant’s hand on her back. Left. Her hand trails along his left side and stops when she feels a hidden pocket. Down. She moves onto the next pocket. Stop. She unzips it and pulls out what she guesses to be multiple small explosives.

“Well, I’d be a liar if I said I enjoyed our chat,” says Grant. He takes them from her outstretched hand. 

Dick gasps. 

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs. 

She does. 

He throws them. A combination of hisses and bright light escape the objects. The next moment she’s moving upwards. 

~~~~~

Grant moves quickly, weaving through Gotham’s skyline with her trembling in his arms. She soon finds herself in one of his many safe houses. 

He has to coax her into letting go when they arrive, because she’s still terrified that this is all a dream and she’ll wake up back in the coffin. She finds herself curled up into herself on his couch as he removes all his armour. Nor does she protest being manhandled when he helps her out of her own armour.

`

“Medea?” he asks carefully. Normally he’d put his things away, but she looked seconds away from shattering. So for tonight, things could stay where they were. 

She looks up and nods in indication that she’s heard him. 

`

“Come here,” he murmurs, letting her relax back into his embrace. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

She shakes her head. “You came, that’s more than I could ask for.”

`

“I should kill him,” he mutters darkly. “I should have killed him then.”

“No...don’t. They removed all of my other trackers, so B wouldn’t have known.”

“I didn’t mean him,” he says, lifting her up from the couch. “I meant the freak. If it wasn’t for him...” You would have never died.

Without prompt, her legs wrap around his waist. They move into one of the bedrooms and he gently deposits her on the bed. Maybe if she wasn’t so out of it, Medea would have protested. Especially with how much dirt she was covered in.

`

“But...” she protests weakly. You’ll get hurt if Bruce finds out you killed someone here.  Or what if Joker hurts you?

“You worry too much,” he says in a light tone. He turns around with a med-kit in hand. “Hands.”

Automatically, she gives them to him. Gently, he cleans them and pulls out splinters, pretending not to notice how she flinched at the sight of them. 

After that, she found a warm cup of tea being pressed into her hands. She accepts it without protest. The familiar smell keeps her anchored back to reality, reminding her that she’s no longer in the coffin. 

Medea finds herself leaning against him in a comfortable silence. He doesn’t push her to talk and she doesn’t say anything either. 

The tea grows cold yet it’s still full. He moves it out of her hands and nudges her under the covers. Before he can get up to leave, she murmurs one word. “Stay?” A little longer, please?

“Are you sure?” asks Grant, carefully. At her nod, he gets up to close the lights before returning to her side. She shuffles over, making space for him to slip in beside her. She tucks herself into his side and instinctively, he puts an arm around her, reassuring her of his presence.  

`

They stay like that for an unknown amount of time. But Grant knows that she’s not asleep yet. Not when her heart is still beating so quickly. “Rest,” he says quietly. “You’re safe.” I’ll make sure of it. 

Medea relaxes at his words. After a few more moments, she quickly falls asleep. 

`

As she breathes softly beside him, a thought lingered in the back of his mind.

That clown had been alive for far too long. 

pt.3 here

[danny-chase]

Delirium - read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Titans (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake & Damian Wayne & Dick Grayson, Roy Harper & Lian Harper, Lian Harper & Dick Grayson, Lian Harper & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Roy Harper, Tim Drake & Roy Harper Characters: Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Lian Harper Additional Tags: Hopsitals, delirious, Anxiety, Panic, POV Tim Drake, Canon Divergence, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Tim Drake is Bad at Feelings, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson is Batman, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Damian Wayne is Robin, Lian never died, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Dick Grayson gets a forehead kiss, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Caring Batfamily (DCU), fluff at the end, Teen Titans as Family, Tim Drake emotional whump, Damian Wayne emotional whump, Lian Harper is a ray of stubborn sunshine on a cloudy day, gunshot wound, Head Wound, Coloring Books Series: Part 4 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

The one where Tim has to be the oldest for like five minutes and decides he doesn't like it (but does a good job anyways).

Full story under cut

“Alvin? Alvin… Draper?” A nurse called from across the room. Tim pulled his head out of his hands, careful not to jostle his fake moustache. “This way please.” She intoned, waving a hand towards a bustling hallway.

Damian nearly leapt out of the stiff plastic chair, and he slowly followed suit, trying to act causal. He doubted he was fooling anyone; his legs shook as he walked forward, and he was pretty sure he left a ring of butt sweat on his seat. Taking deep breaths to calm his fraying nerves, he concentrated on taking steady steps forward – he didn’t care much for Damian, but there was no way he’d let a child go through this sort of thing alone. Especially one who probably had never visited someone in the hospital (let alone been in one) before.

 He’d gotten a panicked call from Barbara a few days ago. Gotham in ruins, streets in chaos… the usual. Bruce was gone. He couldn’t miraculously pull them out of these things anymore. The first Batman was dead, and this time… they could lose the second.

 “Report.” Damian demanded, his harsh tone penetrating Tim’s thoughts. He was suddenly aware of the chaos of the hallway, of people jostling them as they rushed by, a cacophony of machines squealing and loud voices, and bright lights illuminating tacky flooring. He’d fallen a pace behind and quickened his step to stand firmly next to his… little brother.

 As much he’d tried to deny it, at the end of the day, that’s what bound them. Fealty to a dead man, he’d once hoped they could be something more – but this family was ripping apart at the seams and Tim had to wonder what even kept them all here anymore.

 Though – that wasn’t hard to figure out.

 Dick was in trouble, and he came running. He’d been in trouble and Dick had come running. They were brothers in every sense of the word, without Bruce tying them together. His stomach clenched at the thought that it might all be lost to him forever, and he swallowed the bile burning at the top of his throat.

 Dick had this way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world – when you talked to him, he listened, gave advice, and would drop anything to help. He quickly crawled his way into your life, cementing you as family. Things were never perfect, and they’d had their fights, but Dick always bent first, forgiveness freely given rather than earned. Tim had needed that. And from what little time they’d spent together, he knew Damian did too.

 Panic. That was the only way to describe how he felt. He couldn’t be that for Damian – he couldn’t be Dick. He let out a shaky breath – Dick had to be fine – he couldn’t – not after Bruce – he couldn’t do this again – he was on the verge of shattering after finally picking up all the broken pieces of himself and –

 “I said, report.” Damian squeaked. He jolted back into reality, steading his breath, and replaying the last few minutes, his mind trying to catch up.

 The nurse seemed unamused, her nostrils flaring and brow tight as she glanced back. “Sorry, my brother’s a little uhh… stressed…?” He stammered, not wanting to offend Damian – or worse, start an argument in a crowded hallway. But he didn’t flinch at the comment, a testament to the seriousness of the situation they found themselves in.

 Dick was shot in the back of the head, and Tim honestly had no idea if they’d gotten him medical attention in time. He could be comatose for the rest of his life, would never breathe on his own, never talk to them again, never walk, never think, never… god… he’d never talk to Dick again, and it was all his fault for being too late, too unprepared, too much of a failure to-

 “The operation went well, we need to keep him for observation, but we’re hopeful he’ll make a full recovery in a month or two.” Tim blinked back tears as a weight lift off his shoulders, bringing a hand up, covering his eyes for just a second. He looked up to find Damian frozen; too stunned to move. He gently placed an arm around his shoulders, tugging him along so he wouldn’t be swept up in the tide. Surprisingly, that much was allowed today, the child’s thoughts were elsewhere, so Tim focused his thoughts on him.

 Damian was only ten. And he’d almost lost Dick to a fate worse than death, after seeing him shot before his eyes, helpless to stop it. They didn’t have hospitals in the League, it was kill or be killed, and then there were the pits. Had he ever watched someone recover naturally?

 “He’ll be okay.” Tim hissed, in a tone that only Damian could hear. Damian startled back into the present, glaring at him briefly, shaking off Tim’s hand, and storming after the nurse. He kept his expression carefully out of view.

 They turned into a private hospital room, pulling the door shut behind her, and winked. “Timothy Drake-Wayne and Damian Wayne, I presume.”

 He could feel the kid freeze beside him, his own heart threatening to escape his throat.

 “Oh, sorry - don’t panic, I’m with STAR Labs, we’ve worked with Richard and his team for years.” Damian huffed in annoyance. “Your identities aren’t compromised; Oracle made the arrangements for our team to take over when he arrived.” She passed her clipboard to Tim. “The walls are soundproof, you can stay as long as you want, I trust you can get out on your own, and it’s not like I’m going to stop you if you decide to stay longer than I recommend.” She sighed. “Just, don’t distress the patient, he’ll be confused when he wakes up, it’s normal. Call if you need, our monitoring systems are top notch, we’ll be watching – but not listening of course.”

 And with that, the nurse turned on her heel, exiting as fast as she’d arrived, leaving Tim opened mouthed next to a wide-eyed Damian.

 He watched as the door slowly turned on its hinges, picking up speed until it slammed shut. Almost immediately it popped back open. “If he tries to get up, don’t let him escape.” She rolled her eyes. “You human patients are always the worst.” And with that, she was gone. A few awkward, silent moments passed.

 “Are you coming, Drake?” Damian’s voice had lost its normal edge, as he determinedly stared at the windows. He couldn’t see Dick from where they stood, but he could make out the edge of the bed, a pure white sheet neatly tucked under the edge.

 He shifted, hesitantly - he always hated this part. But regardless, he took the lead, striding forward, and allowing Damian the comfort of walking in someone’s shadow. Because even if he wouldn’t say it, there was no way the kid wanted to do this alone. He couldn’t replace Dick – was thankful he didn’t have to, but this – this was the least he could do.

 Hospital beds have this way of making the people inside them seem smaller. Tim braced himself as he stepped into view, and well, it could be worse. Dick was out cold, drooling on his pillow still hooked up to a few monitors, which steadily droned and beeped in the background. A lump of gauze and bandages swathed the base of his skull.

 Damian flitted past his side to sit in the chair next to the bed, and Tim sprang into action, taking the chair next to the window. He flipped through the charts without really reading anything, and the two sat in stony silence. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through dozens of missed calls and unanswered texts before shoving it back in his pocket.

 He spared a glance at Damian - he was curled up in the chair, grimacing and staring at the wall. He didn’t dare try saying anything more, lest they start fighting in Dick’s hospital room. He contented himself with staring out the window, watching the dawn break, violets and purples dancing across the sky. The sun rose with pinks and oranges blossoming soon after.

 Things would be okay. They had to be okay. He slowed his breathing, focusing on the sky rather than the scent of disinfectant. The steady beep of machines slowly fading into the distance. Closing his eyes, he could pretend for a moment, that this was normal. He was in a hotel, maybe on a vacation, in some city that wasn’t destroyed every few months. There had to be a place like that still out there.

 A little chickadee hopped around on the windowsill, fluttering back and forth, before flying off again. “Bye.” Tim snapped to attention, whirling around to find Dick squinting out the window. Damian sprung out of his chair. “Bruce?” He asked confusedly, frowning at Damian.

 Panic flickered across the kid’s face, and he recoiled, stepping back. “No. I’m Damian, don’t be foolish.” His voice wobbled at the end, and Tim’s heart throbbed painfully at the way Damian stiffened, meticulously shutting off any signs of vulnerability.

 “Remember what the nurse said, he’s going to be confused for a bit.” Tim reminded, striding over to sit at the edge of the bed. Dick went back to looking at the now closed window. “Dick, you with us?” He leaned into Dick’s line of sight, trying for a smile, and waited for a minute before leaning back. “I’m going to take that as a no.”

 “-tt-” Damian stepped forwards again. “Don’t bother him, Drake.” He spat.

 Tim didn’t really know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all. Damian climbed back into his chair, tucking his legs up to sit crisscrossed, his back stiff and upright. Tim grabbed his chair, pulling it closer to the edge of the bed. He placed a hand over Dick’s, rubbing a finger over his knuckles, taking comfort in the fingers twitching slightly under his own.

 Dick was alive. He would live. Would recover. He hadn’t lost his older brother.

 “His name’s Tim.” Dick mumbled after a few minutes. Damian rolled his eyes. “Tim.” Dick repeated, his eyes glassy as they gazed through Damian’s forehead.

 “Yeah?” Tim lightly tapped Dick’s hand. He didn’t move from his focus.

 “Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim.” He continued repeating Tim’s name, staring up at the ceiling.

 “Why is he doing that?” Damian demanded, jumping out of his chair. Dick obliviously repeated the word, seemingly unaffected. “Drake, she said the operation went <em>well</em>.”

 “I dunno.” He sighed, Dick probably had no idea what was going on, nor would he remember this. “Look, he’s delirious, he’s going to be messed up for a bit. He got shot in the head.”

 “I know that. I was there. But if the operation was successful, then why-”

 The door opened, and they fell silent, footsteps approaching. Roy Harper poked around the corner; a phone pressed to his ear. “Okay, he doesn’t look too bad, all things considered. Hey, you, kid, you should actually answer your fu-fudging phone.”

 “That’s a dollar for the swear jar.” A little girl, Lian, he presumed, materialized at his side. She carried a bag with her and zoomed over to Damian. “Daddy says you like to color, so I brought crayons.” She grabbed a pack from her bag and shoved them at him. Damian looked mildly disgusted but took them anyway. “Say thank you.” Lian demanded.  

 Damian opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Tim glanced at Roy, he winked, doing his best not to laugh as he finished talking with whoever was on the phone.

 “Thank you.” Dick replied, patting Lian’s head. His eyes seemed to find hers before darting away to stare at the ceiling.

 “Not you.” She groaned. “Him.” She pointed at Damian.

 “Thank you.” He repeated. Lian cracked a smile, giggling.

 “Don’t laugh, it isn’t funny – he’s delirious.” Damian replied harshly, eyes narrowing. Lian shrugged, turning, almost sizing him up. She was only maybe an inch shorter than him, if he had to venture a guess.

 “Uncle Dick is always happier when you laugh.” She pointed out. “It’s contagious.” Sure enough, a wide looping grin had materialized on Dick’s face.

 “But we’re in a hospital.” Damian looked outraged; his hands balled in little fists.

 “Daddy says laughter is the best medicine.” She retorted, crossing her arms. Roy tossed his phone (it landed perfectly in the center of the little dresser next to the bed), and scooped up his daughter in a big hug, sweeping her off the ground.

 “Look, kid.” He looked down at Damian. “I know this is scary and it sucks, but my kid’s got a point.” He kissed the top of her head, prompting more giggles. “She’s a smart cookie, and this isn’t exactly her first rodeo.” Damian’s ears flushed, his face unchanged, but his ears beet red.

 “This is not my first rodeo, and if you were more competent, than-”

 “If Dick was a dumb-, I mean, if he was more competent, we wouldn’t be here.” Roy pointed out, speaking over Damian. Lian smacked his face lightly.

 “Daddy, that’s rude.” Roy rolled his eyes. Dick started speaking in a language Tim vaguely recognized, looking displeased at the argument.

 “Sweetie, I’m trying to make a point.” He set her down, ruffling her hair. “Why don’t you get out the coloring book and let Damian pick out a page.” Damian opened his mouth to comment, but Roy cut him off. “Look, you should see how happy Dick is when Lian gives him coloring pages. I think he’s earned one from you.” Damian closed his mouth. His brain seemingly compiling the information. “What she said isn’t wrong, he’ll recover faster if he’s happier, Timbo, you’re a bat-nerd, back me up here.”

 “Well according to a study done in-” Roy held up a hand.

 “Point made, don’t put me to sleep.” Tim rolled his eyes, remembering why he used to avoid hanging out with (some of) Dick’s friends. For now, he joined Roy in staring down Damian, Lian gazing at him too, an unlikely team up in a battle of wills.

 “Only if Drake makes one too.” Damian miraculously relented after a few minutes. Tim nodded, peace from Damian was worth doing some coloring. Dick would be incredibly happy – these pages would likely be framed; it would be worth it to see the smile on his face. It was worth it now to see Lian’s face light up, as she rushed to unpack her things.

 “Oh, and I brought Uncle Dick a stuffy.” She pulled out a stuffed elephant and placed it in the crook of his elbow. “Say thank you.” Dick replied – still not speaking anything he could place, and Lian smiled, Dick smiled back.

 “What’s he been saying?” Tim asked, looking to Roy, as Damian slid to the floor, selecting coloring pages with Lian. Roy sat on the side of the bed, carefully leaning Dick forward, to get a better look at the back of his head. He whistled, ignoring Tim for a moment.

 “You really did it to yourself this time, jeez Dickie.” He muttered to himself before turning back. “He’s speaking Navajo, he was counting to ten earlier, and he told Lian thanks.” Roy rolled his eyes. “Would you believe his pronunciation is always better when he’s like this?”

 “No, that seems on brand.” Tim mused. “Apparently my French gets exponentially better the less I’ve slept.” Roy shrugged, and turned back on Dick.

 “Quit rubbing off on the kids, you don’t want them to turn into you, yah? Bunch a’ weirdo bat-nerds.” Dick was apparently, not listening, and was more into petting the plushy.

 “Zitka.” He replied, showing it to Roy. Roy patted his shoulder.

 “Yeah buddy, I know. Isn’t she cute?” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Dick’s forehead. Something seemed to click in Tim’s brain, as Dick garbled on, fascinated by the toy.

 “How many times have you done this?” He asked, watching as Roy leaned back, taking the seat next to the bed. He shrugged.

 “I stopped counting after Blood fried his brains, back when he ran around in a V-neck.” Tim cringed, that was before he even became Robin. “Don’t look like that, he didn’t die.” Not that time, or this time – but things had been too close for comfort more times than Tim wanted to think about. Roy’s fingers drummed against the armrest. “I don’t know, Garth tried out the elephant thing a while back. It keeps him happy.” He pulled a book out of Lian’s bag, starting to flip through the pages. “Take nap kid – you look deader than him. Lian and I got this covered.”

 Tim leaned back in his chair, tucking his legs up with him. He watched as Dick happily turned the toy over and over in his hands, blearily blinking at the world. Damian was quiet where he sat on the floor, inspecting each of the colors. By the time he put his first stroke to paper, Tim was already fast asleep.

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Happily Ever After - 2

The Tower: Happily Ever After An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist | Character Refrence PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1849

Warnings:  Pregnancy and minor language on chapter.

Synopsis: Almost 40 years after Elise Cooper first crashed into Natasha Romanoff outside the library at Columbia University, she and the Avengers are adapting to a near-immortal life together with their large brood of children.  Yet things aren’t perfect.  Life is moving on without them and they’re starting to discover who isolating being immortal can be.When Angela comes and asks Thor to take the throne of Asgard once more, the group leaves Earth in the hopes that they will find their Happily Ever After there.

Chapter 2: Anger Issues

When Marya returned home from school that day we were all ready to meet her.  Marya was sixteen years old, a little taller than I was, with dark hair and light brown eyes - just like Bruce.  Those weren’t the only things she’d inherited from her biological father.  She was extremely intelligent and had been skipped ahead a grade in school.  There had been talk about skipping her ahead more than that, but it wasn’t something encouraged in schools due to the strain it has on children’s emotional and social development.  So instead she was finishing up high school with her peer group while taking college courses as electives.

She also had her own little green problem.

Her powers worked differently from Bruce’s.  She could turn into a hulk, and that transformation could be triggered by extreme negative emotions - not just anger, but when she was really sad or anxious too.  Unlike Bruce though, she never had to worry about sharing her body with another person.  When she changed she was always herself and generally she had such precision control over the transformation that she could do it on command, much as Bruce could after the bonding ceremony all those years ago.

She looked around suspiciously at us as we called her over to the couches by the large window, typically the place where we had family meetings.  It was usually where we spoke to the kids if they had done something they probably shouldn’t have.  We took an approach with our parenting where they didn’t usually get in trouble for misbehaving.  Rather we tried to think of a real-world consequence for what they’d done.  For example, if they were fighting they had to sit down and listen to each other’s grievances and then work out a way to both come to an understanding about how the other feels and try to make each other feel better.  It didn’t always work, but we figured it was better than arbitrarily making them go sit in the corner.  So it made sense that she’d think she was in trouble for something.

“What’d I do?”  She asked, dropping her backpack on the ground while she stood looking at her gathered parents.

“Why don’t you tell us?”  Sam teased.  “And we’ll tell you if that’s it.”

“I’m not falling for that,” Marya snarked, folding her arms across her chest.

“Honey, sit down,” Steve said, gently.  “You’re not in trouble.  We just need to tell you something.”

Marya sat down carefully, looking at everyone with deep suspicion.  “Is someone else pregnant?  Are you trying to populate Earth with just our family?”

“No,” Clint laughed.  “What the hell?”

I rolled my eyes.  “Honestly, honey, I sometimes think the same thing,” I said.  “But that’s not what this is.”

“Your Aunt Angela came to visit today,” Steve explained.  “She’s giving up the throne of Asgard.”

“Does that mean Riley’s going to be queen?”  Marya asked, looking over at Thor.  “I can’t believe my sister’s going to be the queen of a whole other planet.”

Thor shook his head.  “Riley is still too young to rule by Asgardian standards.  My people - our people - would consider that the equivalent of having Zak as their king.  I have to step up and take the lead.”

“Which means, we are moving to Asgard,” Steve finished.  “I know that...”

“What?”  Marya yelped, interrupting Steve as she blinked at us.  “When?”

“Within the month,” Steve said.

“But I have school!”  Marya shouted.  Her fists clenched and she started to turn green at the edges.  “And what about my friends?  You can’t just take me away from everyone I ever knew!”

“Mar,” Bruce said, gently.  “Deep breath.  Get that under control.”

“Don’t tell me how to feel!”  Marya shouted, slamming her hands on the coffee table and sending a large crack through the heavy wood.  I jumped a little, startled at her violent reaction, and the green started to creep into her arms starting at her hands, making her muscles swell and double in size.

Sam moved forward and crouched in front of his daughter, taking both her hands in his and looking into her eyes.  “Marya,” Sam said with a gentle yet commanding tone.  “I know you’re upset, but you need to talk about this rationally.  If you can’t talk about it, you’re gonna have to go to your room to cool off first.”

She started crying and pulled her hands out of his.  “It’s not fair!” She cried.  “I don’t even get a say about whether or not you take me away from my friends.  My whole goddamn planet?”

“Honey,” Steve said, wrapping his arm around Marya’s shoulders.  “I know this is tough.  I really do.  But we’re partially doing it for you.”

“I don’t see how taking me from my friends is somehow supposed to be good for me,” she grumbled.

“Alright, kid,” Natasha said.  “I’m going to give you some harsh truths here.  You’re going to lose them anyway.  Maybe not all of them anytime soon, but the ones you would have kept in your life you’d have had to watch age and die.  Just like we all have done and are with our friends and family.  We want to save you what’s happening with Rose.  We don’t want you to have to fall in love and then watch them fade out while you’re stuck looking like you can’t buy a beer.”

Marya started crying harder and fell into Steve’s side and Wanda glared at Natasha.  “You didn’t have to be so harsh,” Wanda snapped.

“Well babying her wasn’t doing it either,” Natasha argued.  “She needs to hear it.  She might not like it, but going to Asgard is what’s best for her.”

“Can’t I even finish school?”  Marya begged.  “I could stay with Eddie - or Rose.  Or one of my friends.  And then… then I’ll come.”

“There will be school for you on Asgard,” Thor said.  “And it will teach you things that far outreach anything any of you have learned on Midgard.  Riley and Pietro both attend and they learn of the world tree, and alien languages, advanced mathematics, and magic.  You are already holding yourself back to fit in, daughter.  You would never have to hide any part of you in Asgard.  Not your intelligence, and not this -” he tapped her arm where it was still tinged with green.

“And I’ll make it so you can talk to your friends here.  We’ll set up a line of communication,” Tony added.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll make sure my kids don’t go without Tumblr and Instagram.  Imagine how many followers you’ll get posting selfies in Asgard.”

“I already have a tonne of followers, dad,” Marya sniffed.  “I’m a Skjodbærer.”

“Yes, you are,” Tony said.  “And don’t you forget it.  The whole universe is yours.”

“We’ll make sure we come back to visit,” I said.  “We all still have friends here, and places we like to spend our time.”

“Yeah, who’s going to annoy Katie-Kate if I’m not around?”  Clint joked.

Marya let out a small laugh that was still more tears than actual laughter.  “I’m sure she’d hate not being annoyed by you.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Clint said and patted Marya on the thigh.

“We aren’t doing this to punish you, Mar,” Sam soothed.  “I promise.  We’ve all been talking about this for a long time, and we were going to wait, but your dad can’t anymore.  He has to go and rule his kingdom.  And sometimes we have to give up what we want to do for what we need to.”

Marya let out a long slow breath and nodded.  “I know.  I know, dad.  They’re still my friends though and I’m still sad about it.”

“I know,” Wanda said.  “Being sad is normal.”

“Can I have a goodbye party?”  Marya asked.

“Look who you’re talking to,” Tony teased.  “The biggest.”

She sat silently for a moment and nodded again.  “If I really hate it, can I come back again?”

“You need to give it a proper chance,” Steve said.

“I will,” she assured him.  “I just… I don’t…”

“If you really hate it, you can come back,” I said, cutting Steve off before he had a chance to reply.  “We won’t like it, but our kids being happy and healthy is the thing we want most.  We just think… in the long run, this is the best option for that.”

“I know,” Marya said.  She looked around at anyone and kicked at her bag.  “Can I go now?”

“One thing first,” Steve said, tapping the table where she cracked it.  “What are we going to do about this?”

Marya sighed and looked at it.  “I’m sorry,” she said.

“And…?”  Steve pressed.

“And… I’ll go see if I can find someone who can repair it.  If I can’t, I’ll shop for a suitable replacement.  And… and I’ll volunteer at the soup kitchen for the Sundays before we leave as a stand-in for the fact I don’t need to earn money to pay for these things.”

“Good girl,” Steve said.  “Dinner will be at 6.30.”

Marya stood up and grabbed her back.  “Okay.”

“Marya,” I said.  “We love you.”

She smiled a little and nodded.  “I love you all too.”

We watched her disappear up the stairs and Bruce sat back and ran his palms over his scalp.  “I really need to help her deal with her anger.”

Bucky patted his arm.  “It’s usual teen stuff.  We’ve seen it before -” he gestured to me “- we’ll see it again.”

“Yeah, but when any of the others got upset we didn’t have to worry about them breaking the building,” Bruce said.

“Umm… do I need to remind you about that tantrum Riley had that meant we had to remodel her room,” I said.

Bruce chuckled and nodded.  “Right.  I guess.”

“It won’t hurt to work with her more,” Sam said.  “But don’t think that her having a temper is on you.  She’s hyper-intelligent and smart kids often deal with anxiety because they’re always thinking ten steps ahead about all the potential terrible outcomes.”

“Tell me about it,” Tony snarked.

“Yes, Tony, you’re a genius, we all know,” Bucky teased.

“I do not like that I am the reason for her distress,” Thor said.  “We could always go back to how it was before Angela took the throne.”

“And barely get to see you?”  Clint said.  “I don’t fuckin’ think so.”

“That’s not going to happen, Thor,” Steve said.  “We’ve been talking about this for a while.  It’s time.  Sometimes kids have to move because their parents are.  It’s not fun for them.  But she will adapt and it is better it happens sooner than for her to fall into this society's expectations for when she should be doing things.”

Thor nodded, though he didn’t look completely convinced.  

“Alright,” Clint said, clapping his hands.  “Enough about moody teenagers.  We have a lot to work out.”

“It’s going to be a big change,” I said.  “But we’ve gotten really good at those, and in my experience, they always worked out for the best.”

// NEXT

[ratcourtjester]

What the hell do you even get rich people for Valentine's Day? Hal thought turning the little stuffed bear in his hand. The eyes were off center and it was holding a bright red heart that had the phrase 'I love you BEARY much' embroidered on it. Definitely not. He shook his head and put the poor thing back on the shelf before he decided to do it the favor of putting it out of its misery. He wished someone would have the courtesy of putting him put of his already. The store was packed with last minute shoppers and all the good stuff had been picked over already. Hal wouldn't of bothered if his boyfriend hadn't invited him out to dinner that night. A freaking Valentine's Day dinner. What was this, high school???

...Okay that felt a little harsh. Honestly, Hal didn't have anything against the Holiday. Free candy, quick hook-ups and half priced chocolate the next day? Honestly what wasn't to love? But he was actually in a relationship this year. And not with Carol who practically expected him to screw up on Valentine's Day (harsh but not exactly unwarranted) but with the goddamn Batman. To be fair, he probably also figured Hal was going to screw it up. He still wasn't 100% sure how this had all happened, really it was a blur of arguments, very close calls and some absolutely fantastic sex and then boom! He was meeting the guy's kids (officially) and they were living together (unofficially). 

It hadn't been all bad actually. Bruce was just as difficult as one could imagine when dating a bat-themed vigilante but if the man had Hal this stressed out about a commercial Holiday as nauseating as Valentine's Day than it was pretty safe to say Hal lov-

Lo-

...had strong feelings for him. After all, Bruce wasn't Batman all the time, though one would be hard pressed to get the billionaire to admit that. He was caring and tender when he felt safe enough to be. And alright he had a decent sense of humor. And he was fucking gorgeous to boot. And rich. Very, very rich. That had never really been a factor in what Hal found attractive in people but it certainly didn't hurt. It also, apparently, limited options when it came to getting them gifts.

He sighed looking at his cart filled only by two five pound bags of mixed candy and relented, taking the bear back off the shelf and tossing it in. Cass would like it at least.

-----------------

Two hours later, Hal was no closer to figuring out what the hell to get Bruce and was running dangerously close to being late, the chances of him getting laid that night getting slimmer and slimmer with every tick of the clock. He ran his fingers through his hair, gelling it back and looked himself over in the mirror, inspecting his face to make sure he hadn't missed any spots shaving. 

"Not bad, Jordan, not bad at all…" He hummed to his well dressed reflection. He wore a deep red button up and his nicest dress pants. Red wasn't normally his color but he figured he might as well be festive. Even if he didn't have anything to give. He sighed again deciding the flowers he had grabbed were going to have to do as put his cufflinks on. They had been his father's and he only really pulled them out for special occasions. He paused. In fact, the last time he had worn them was at Jim's wedding. It took him a second to let that sink in. As much as he had been telling himself it was just a date, he had almost subconsciously grabbed something he hadn't worn in almost a decade. Maybe this was more important to him than he let on. He looked over to the roses taunting him and groaned.

He was such a bad boyfriend. 

-----------------

Surprisingly, Hal arrived in Gotham just in time. Despite spending most of his off time in the Manor these days, he had opted to go back to his apartment when he got back on Earth just before he got the dinner invitation. If it bothered Bruce, he hadn't mentioned it in the few days in between. Letting the construct that made his suit up drop he landed within walking distance (but out of sight of prying eyes) of the manor and made the rest of the treck on foot. Alfred answered the door with a look that practically demanded to know why he even bothered knocking anymore at this point which he just answered with a grin.

"Hey Al, happy Valentine's Day." He said, fishing the tulip bulb from the bag of goodies he had brought the family. He figured the butler would enjoy the addition to his garden. 

"To you as well, Master Jordan." He took the plant with a small thank you. "Master Wayne will be down in a moment he's taking a call in-"

"Hal's here!" A shout from the staircase interrupted the family butler and him and Hal looked over just in time to watch the oldest launch himself over the railing and land with all the grace of an acrobatic cat before bounding over and enveloping Hal in a hug.

" Master Grayson ." Alfred hissed looking thoroughly unimpressed with his actions. Dick grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he let the older man go. 

"Sorry Alf, guess I just missed him."

"You saw him a week ago." Duke snorted coming out of the den but gave Hal a grin anyway.

"Are these for us?" Steph grinned, suddenly at Hal's side and going through the plastic bag as Alfred rolled his eyes and took his duffle bag for him. She pulled out the little monstrosity of a bear and her eyes lit up. "Oh, I love this guy. He for B?" She teased.

"For your girlfriend actually. Figured she'd like him more." He said, snorting as Cass took the little bear from the blond and gave him a small smile. "You're welcome, kid."

It wasn't long before the rest of the little bats tore into the bags of candy he had brought with the exception of Jason, who was out with Roy, and Dick, who left for his own date with Wally shortly after greeting Hal, and ran off. It was another ten minutes before Bruce came down, looking slightly irritated. However the look softened once his eyes landed on Hal. "You look nice." He commented.

"You look pissed." Hal countered and got an eye roll in return.

"Nothing you did." Bruce said, placing a hand on his hip and a kiss on his cheek, taking the offered flowers before pulling away smirking. "For once anyway."

"Hilarious, Spooky." He snorted and looked the other man over. He looked fantastic, no surprise, wearing a suit by some designer he definitely couldn't pronounce the name of. God this man was out of his league. He was ushered out with mentions of a reservation and a shout from Tim to 'have him home by midnight' soon after.

---------------------

In the months since dating Bruce Freaking Wayne, Hal had been treated to restaurants where he was sure the food cost more than his rent. Tonight was no different. Marble floors, molded walls and food that he couldn’t pronounce with his high-school level French, no expense was sparred. Hal still wasn't sure if these restaurants made him feel out of place or not but it definitely didn't make him feel any better about not getting B anything for the holiday. Spooky didn't have to be the world's greatest detective to pick up something was wrong.

"We can go somewhere else." He offered, sipping at the water the waiter had brought him. Hal shook his head.

"Its not that." He said and sighed when Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting him to continue. "I got you flowers."

"Yes and they were lovely." 

"No. I only got you flowers." Hal said in frustration. Whether he was frustrated with himself or Bruce's knack for being intentionally obtuse. "Not even from a real flower shop. I got them from the store because I didn't know what the hell else to get you. Because what do you get a billionaire? You could just buy anything you wanted-"

"Hal-"

"And its not like I could have taken you out somewhere instead anyway. Can you imagine the headlines in the gossip rags if you were caught slumming it with me somewhere-"

" Hal ," Bruce said a little firmer this time, stopping Hal from putting his foot in his mouth any further. "I didn't realize how much my financial status bothered you." And that tone was much too close to Batman for Hal's liking.

"It doesn't." Hal said firmly, trying his best to be reassuring. "I just...I didn't get you anything." And Bruce stared at him, calculating, forming his next plan of action. That look made Hal squirm in away that should of been uncomfortable. Especially since he just knew that was the look he had while wearing the cowl. Finally he spoke.

"You did. You got me flowers and you came here with me. I only asked for one of those things." And weirdly enough, that made Hal relax. The weight of expectation lifted from his shoulders. "Besides," Bruce continued, smirking over his glass. Hal raised an eyebrow and the smirk widened knowing he had the pilot's attention. "You can make it up to me on the way home."

Hal choked on his wine.

[justyourfriendlynhspooderman]

Batfam x Child!Reader - Confused Pt. 2

Guess who’s back after like year

Honestly I didn’t want to come back to it but I decided just to go with it. Hopefully the small amount of people reading this will enjoy it. I hated the first part but here’s the link to it if you haven’t read it yet!

Batfam x childreader! - Confused pt. 1

Just a quick warning, there’s swearing in this one!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Knock Knock Knock”

A man, who was definitely a bit older, opened the door. “Ah, Master Dick,” The man started in a thick but posh British accent. “Welcome home.” He bowed a bit and opened the door wider for “master Richard” to walk in. “Thank you Alfred.” 

Dick and Alfred. Got it. 

Y/n made sure to remember their names, not wanting to be rude. “And what do we have here?” Alfred asks with a small smile and his brows raised. “My name is Y/n L/n,” she bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Alfred looked at Dick with a questionable face. Dick just shrugged with a nervous chuckle. “No need for that Miss L/n, up you go.” She stood up straight and nodded. Alfred turned his attention back on Dick, waiting for an explanation. “I found her looking at the mansion when I came back from patrol and I asked her what she was doing. Apparently, she’s an orphan so I kinda just decided to keep her…..?” The end of his sentence turned into a question instead of a statement. 

Y/n looked at Alfred curiously as he nodded. It was so weird. He definitely had emotion but didn’t really show anything. It was almost completely stoic. She nodded to herself and decided that she liked him.

“Would you like to show her to Master Bruce sir?” Alfred says. Dick sighed and nodded, “I guess I kinda have to.” He mumbled. “It was nice meeting you Miss L/n.” She did another quick bow, “Thank you for your hospitality, Mister Alfred.” She stood up quickly and ran after Dick.

Her tiny legs slowed down as she finally caught up with him. “You’re very fast mister,” she panted. He looked down at her. “How old are you?” he questioned, realizing how small she actually was. “I’m four.” she looked at her hands making sure she was holding up the right amount. Sometimes she screwed up. Her fingers were just so tiny it was hard to bend them correctly. “Yeah,” she smiled excitedly for doing it right the first time. “Four.” He looked at her curiously. “Four? That’s pretty young,” he added. “I guess,” she shrugged. “But I’m turning five next week!” Dick chuckled at her on and off going excitement. “I guess we’ll have to celebrate then huh?” she looked at him. “Really? I’ve never had a birthday party before!” Y/n felt kinda weird. I mean, it was common for her to feel excitement but definitely not this much. “Then it’s gonna have to be huge in that case.” She tried to hold the bounce in her step after he said that.

“Who are you talking to Grayson?” An almost harsh voice said. It was coming from Y/n’s right. She leaned forward to try and see past Dick. A boy who looked around 10-13 was standing in front of an open door which Y/n assumed was his room. 

“How are you Dami. Awwww, I found a quick nickname for youuu~” Dick says in a baby voice and pinches the boy’s cheeks. “Don’t touch me you filthy hag.” He shouts and swats his hands away, but Dick didn’t seem to take any offense to it. “This is Y/n, she’s probably gonna be living with us from now on so treat her like your little sister okay?” Was he babying him? Y/n couldn’t really tell. 

“What do you mean she’s going to be living with us?” The boy’s voice cuts her from her thoughts. “Where the hell did you even get her? Off the streets, I’m assuming.” He talked in almost a proper manner but definitely not a proper tone. “Actually yeah, she’s an orphan like the rest of us,” Dick grabs Y/n’s hand and pulls her gently to his side so Damian can see her better. I mean, she tried her best to stay clean but it was kinda hard when you don’t really have anywhere to live. Damian scoffed, “I’m the only one with actual Wayne blood.” 

Dick patted his head, “Well it was nice running into you little bro but now we gotta leave.” He started walking, still holding the toddler's hand. Y/n waved at the boy even though she was sure he didn’t like her very much. Damian just stared back at her. He would rather die than admit this, but a tiny part of him wanted to pat her head. “Tch, whatever,” he mumbled and walked back into his room. 

Dick was quiet for a moment. “Wait, you live with Bruce Wayne? That’s a bit random,” Y/n says. “Well...Uh, it’s complicated.” He just realized he pretty much told a child his secret identity and probably everyone else's by bringing her inside. Her brows furrowed but tried to hide her confusion. 

There were sudden shouts coming from what seemed to be a kitchen of some sort. “Great, now look what you’ve done!” “I didn’t do anything, this was your fault, Drake!” “Yeah right, you’re just so angsty you just had to push me huh?” “Not my fault you’re so fucking clumsy.” Dick covered Y/n’s ears quickly. “You bumped into me.” “Keep telling yourself that.” The taller one says. “What do you want Dick?” The other one says harshly, now aware of his presence, and was definitely annoyed. His eyes widen when he sees the small girl whose face was being slightly squashed because of Dick’s hands. He removed them after both of them seemed to be more confused than calm. “What the hell is that?” Jason blurts. “It’s a child dumbass.” “I know that shithead, why is she here?” Jason retorts.  “Well right now I’m wishing she wasn’t so she wouldn’t have to listen to you two fight like an old married couple.” He says sassily. “Answer the damn question, Grayson,” Jason growls. “Alright alright, chill. She is here because I brought her here.” “I’m going to murder you.” He sighed, annoyed. Dick rolled his eyes. “She’s an orphan and you know the orphanage kinda broke or something so here she is I guess,” he says, finally giving a complete answer. Not gonna lie, she was honestly kinda scared and probably a little shy. Dick felt his arm being tugged and looked down to see Y/n hiding behind it but her eyes were still peeking out. “Now look what you did, you scared her,” Tim says to Jason. “What do you mean I scared her. We wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for you.” “Oh my god, I’m not gonna even try anymore.” “So now you want to acknowledge what you did.” “I swear to god I am going to pour my burning coffee all over you.” 

Dick sighed and used his other hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.  “This one is Jason,” Dick says to Y/n, pointing at the taller one. “This one is-” “A dumbass, this one is a dumbass.” Jason finished for Dick, glaring at the shorter one. “This one is Tim.” He says again, pointing to the shorter one. “I hate you. I have decided to pour the coffee and no one is stopping me.” Tim says. “Try me bitch.” Y/n could tell Dick was losing his patience. “Can you stop with the freaking swear words!” Dick shouts suddenly. “Well sooorry Mr. I can’t hear the word ‘fuck’ or I’ll throw holy water on you.” Tim rolled his eyes at Jason’s response. 

“Well I don’t know if you were paying attention or not, but there’s a small child, who doesn’t look older than 6, in the same room as us right now and I don’t think she should be listening to you cuss out profanities because you think you’re emo or something.” Timothy sassed slightly and Jason grumbled something under his breath. 

“We’re going now but have fun with whatever...this is,” Dick says motioning to the mess. Y/n waved behind Dicks arm, still a bit shy. Dick grabs Y/n’s hand again and walks off. “Oh yeah, you wanna go?” she could hear Jason shout in the distance, probably at something Time had said. 

Dick looked a bit annoyed with what just happened. “Mister Dick,” he looked at her. “What does dumbass mean?” (Listen I know I said she was smart but I don’t care at this point) His eyes widened. “It’s uh-It’s a meaner way of saying stupid butt.” Her brows furrowed. “Why would someone call something like that? It’s not a very good insult.” he shrugged. “Good question however I do not know the answer.” 

Dick opens a door to reveal a pretty normal study/office other than it was gigantic. He looks at Y/n and sighs. “I’m going to have to have to cover your eyes.” She nods and puts her hands over her eyes, turning around in the process. There was a loud but weird noise, almost like gears moving or something. “Alright, come on.” She turns around and removes her hands. Her small e/c orbs widen. There was a big gray elevator thingy in place of where the wide bookshelves should have been. She walked in slowly, being cautious. 

“It’s okay, I promise. It’s actually really cool.” She looked back up at Dick and nodded slowly.

 This family 100 percent confused her. They were weird. Really weird.

 Maybe she should have stayed outside.   

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Sorry it was really short, I still hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. I’m probably going to end it here unless people start wanting a part three. I’ll try to start posting more once I get ideas on what to write. Hope you all have a fabulous dayyyy  

[mochegato]

Pixie Spy

Written for the Jasonette July Wayne Gala prompt.

Why?!? Why was she doing this again? Oh right, because John Constantine promised to give her some help with a particularly difficult part of the Grimoire if she did.  And he needed the information he was currently obtaining in order to give said help.  That is how she ended up with an invitation, still not sure how Constantine pulled that off, to the most exclusive event of the year, the Wayne Gala.  

Plus, Adrien was kind of right, ordinarily it would be a great opportunity to showcase her designs. The problem was on its surface, her dress wasn't one of her best works. The black dress had a high, cowl neckline in front and in back, adding a bit of drama and a small homage to the local heroes, vigilantes she silently corrected herself.  The high neckline also offset the incredibly short bubble skirt, making her legs look longer than the Nile.  Despite being a bit uncomfortable showing that much leg, it was necessary for this particular design and if she could actually feel like she had long legs for once, she was willing to deal with the discomfort.  She also added a glittery belt to show her shape and add some bling, which seemed like something the people at this particular event would value.  It was functional, not fashionable.  Not that it was ugly, just that it was designed to be passable, enough to fit in but not enough to get noticed.

She fidgeted slightly as she stood in the entryway trying to get past the people piling up trying to not so discretely pay homage to the king.  That king being Bruce Wayne. From her research, he actually did seem like he was a good guy. The list of charities he started or contributed to was longer than she was tall. She scowled at the voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Adrien's saying that wasn't much.  Adrien, who got out of coming tonight because the mission was to observe the Waynes unnoticed and Adrien Agreste would get a bit too much attention, that cat bastard.

Despite the laundry list of charity work, Marinette was still suspicious of Wayne.  First of all, he was rich, filthy rich.  Anyone that rich had to have some dark and twisted secrets they were hiding.  He wouldn’t be the first rich person to hide their illicit activities behind a veil of charity work.  Second, he chose to live in Gotham, the most crime-riddled city in the world.  And that is just the reported crime.  A great deal of the crime never got reported to or investigated by the police, whether through corruption or exhaustion.  The kind of place a rich person could be confident they would get away with literal murder.

But mostly, it was Constantine that made her suspicious of Bruce Wayne.  Not that Constantine had ever said anything negative about him, well nothing more than calling him a pain in the ass, but that was really not so much an insult as a compliment coming from Constantine.  But, Wayne had information Constantine needed to help them with the Grimoire and Constantine refused to say how Wayne had gotten that information. How and why would a playboy billionaire have that information?  There is absolutely no reason someone outside of the hero/villain/magic community would have that information.  And, if he was such a good guy, why would Constantine need to go to these lengths to get it without Wayne’s knowledge?  Unless it was related to one of his illicit secrets.

Her eyes darted around the room taking in its grandeur, muttering to herself about how ostentatious it all was.  Normally, she would be completely mesmerized by the grandeur and pomp of the scene.  The room was decorated to perfection.  Everything was absolutely exquisite.  However, she was too anxious and wary to enjoy it.  So instead of being inspired, each gorgeous detail grated on her. She reached up to tug on her hair before remembering her hair had been pulled up into an elegant twist held in place with a single silver pin. With her normal anxiety relief method unavailable, she instead shifted nervously from foot to foot while she scanned the room trying to catch sight of the rest of the Waynes, gently tightening and loosening her grip on her purse, trying not to crush Tikki.

She was so lost in her anxiety she didn't notice the dark haired man walking behind her take notice of her and stop.  He stood behind her with a nonchalance that didn’t seem to fit a man his size.  He watched her fidget and muttering to herself about “damn rich people” with a smile on his face.

“You don't seem excited to be here” he said quietly.

She turned around with wide eyes, shocked that someone had heard her.  Whatever she was expecting to see it was not what she saw in front of her.  The man towered over her.  Even in her ridiculously, dangerously high heels, Chloe insisted, her head didn’t even come up to his chin.  He was also extremely handsome, with chiseled features and the most gorgeous blue eyes she had ever seen.  Those eyes were going to be a problem.  They were clear and kind and roguish and hypnotizing.  His black hair with a shock of white was slightly tousled giving the impression of a rouge trying to look sophisticated.  Was it inappropriate to imagine running her hand through his hair and along his sharp jawline?  Yeah, probably not appropriate and likely not welcome.  Clean up your thoughts, girl!  Great, now Alya was in her head scolding her.  No, that’s not right, because that would definitely not be Alya’s advice.  

He was grinning at her with an impish look in his eyes. “What?  Not impressed with the ‘we care about whatever the point of this gala is, but we’re not hobos so let’s not skimp on the luxury for us’ décor?  Or maybe it is the illustrious, soul sucking, benefactors of Gotham that have set you on edge.”  The smile he shot her was guarded and critical. She chuckled lightly and looked away. “You have good judgement and a good reason to be suspicious.  But you made it to The event of the season, so you must have done something right… or wrong.”

She hummed and looked away.  “Have you ever had one of those days where everything went wrong and now you don't know how you got where you are or why you are there?”

“I’m familiar with the feeling,” he nodded.

“That's my life. All of it.  Every single fucking day.  This one included."

He barked out a laugh and looked at her again appraising her.  “Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine.  I think I like you.  You might just make this torture session more bearable.  See you around,” he chuckled as he walked away.

Marinette watched the man’s retreating back.  The night was already going better than she thought it would.  But the plan for the night wasn’t to find a date it was to act as a scout and keep tabs on the… enemy?  For all intents and purposes, that is what the Waynes were tonight, right?  They had information that she needed, that Paris needed, and they apparently weren’t going to part with it willingly, so they were the enemy.  No, enemy sounded too harsh she chided herself.  Opposition? Yes, they were the opposition.  That sounded much less hostile, more like a game… a game where people’s lives were on the line.  You know, just for fun, no pressure.

She found a spot against a wall she could use.  It was slightly raised but not well lit so it wouldn’t draw attention to her.  From her spot she could finally see the family. It was very thoughtful of them to group together like that.  She could see the little one, stiff and military-like posture, glowering at the people around him.  He was standing as far away from the rest of the people there as he could without actually leaving the room.  Much closer to the dancefloor, she could see the middle boy talking to a few business men. They all had fake smiles plastered on their faces as they made seemingly insignificant small talk.  She did not envy him that experience.  Between the two and to the side was the oldest son. He was chatting up some business person’s daughter, leaning in a lot closer than etiquette would dictate. Just the father then… there he was still not too far from the door talking to a dark haired woman.  He had his arm around her waist as she leaned into him. She must be the girlfriend then. Mari made a note that she should probably pay attention to where she was as well.  Fortunately, the spot she had chosen gave her a great vantage point.  Unfortunately, her observation spot wasn’t as unnoticed as she had hoped.

 ___________________________________________________________

Jason made his way over to the bar and ordered a beer.  He still hadn’t spoken to his family to let them know he was there and he definitely needed a drink before he approached them.  Why the fuck was he here again?  Fucking Batman.  

Fresh glass of beer in hand, he made his way over to his brothers, refusing to acknowledge any of the partygoers along the way.  He watched as his brothers took note of his approach and excused themselves from their conversation partners.  Dick didn’t look too happy to turn away from the latest interest, smiling at her and giving her reassurances before sending her away.  Tim looked less happy to have to turn away from the men he was talking with. He should be thanking Jason really. He was giving him an out from having to deal with them and their god awful personalities and fashion. Seriously, who told that guy that tie was okay.  Even the Riddler would think that tie was obnoxious.

“Okay, I’m here,” Jason said taking a large swig of his drink.  “How long before I can ditch this bottomless pit of misery?”

“Woah, slow down there.  You’re going to get drunk before the announcement.”  Dick cautioned him.

“Do you want me here or do you want me sober?  You’re going to have to choose one.  They’re mutually exclusive, Dickweed.”

“Come on Jaybird, we all have to be here.  None of the rest of us are getting drunk.”

“That’s just because I’m smarter than you guys are,” he said tipping his glass to Tim who had scoffed at the suggestion and took another drink.  “There is no reason we all have to be here.  We shouldn’t all have to suffer.  And officially, I’m not even a member of this hellscape of a family anymore so I really shouldn’t have to be here.”

“If The Disappointment gets to leave, so do I. Someone should be patrolling tonight instead of all of us wasting our time entertaining these harpies.  And if one more person tries to touch me on my head I’m going to break a hand.”

“Stop it!  Nobody is leaving, Damian.  We’re in this together.  And Jason, if anyone got to go home it wouldn’t be you.  You are the reason we all have to be here in the first place; so we can ALL show our support when we officially announce that you are part of this ‘hellscape of a family’ again.  So enjoy it,” he said with a cutting smile.

“Not everyone enjoys getting groped by the gold-digging, trust fund whores.  I’ve found a way to cope.  It’s called alcohol.  Now if you’ll excuse me,” he downed the drink in his hand, “my drink is empty.  I’m going to go find another.”

“At least try not to interact with anyone. We don’t want to piss anyone off tonight.  And I don’t want to have to fix your messes.”

“Way ahead of you, Replacement.”  Jason turned and walked away before Dick could reprimand him again.  He needed to get away.  He could only handle his family in small does, very small doses, miniscule amounts, and he had already surpassed that limit.  

He grabbed two more drinks off of a passing waiter’s tray and looked for the Sunshine Girl.  He scanned the room sipping the champagne, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the room.  His size and demeanor was usually enough to keep people away but making eye contact made people think he was open to talking.  He was not.  He had no interest in making nice with Gotham’s elite.  He wanted to get this night over with, with as little pain as possible.  

He finally spotted her off to the side of the room speaking with the obnoxious tie guy.  Jason watched as the man slid his hand up the side of her leg starting to move under her skirt.  Jason started to make his way over to them until he saw her move closer to the man.  She was close enough to whisper seductively into his ear now.  Ah, not uninvited then.  Maybe he had misread her.  Well there goes his hope of this party not sucking balls.  He started to turn away but noticed a pained expression on the man’s face.  He turned back to reexamine the scene.  She was holding the man’s hand at an unnatural angle.  It was a hold he’d used a few times himself, it was discrete but extremely effective, causing intense pain with a small movement.  He knew if she moved her hand just a few more centimeters, she could easily break his wrist.

She let go with a viscous look pushing him away from her as she did.  The man shook his hand and scowled at her.  He started back toward her and Jason took off running, not pausing to apologize to the people he bumped into along the way.  Before he could get to her, she had already taken care of it. She squared her shoulders and glared at the man, making it clear that she could and would continue with her actions if he persisted.  When she moved her hand ever so slightly, just enough so he could see it and remember what she had done, the man turned away and smiled at the people who had been standing behind him as though nothing had happened.  Jason chuckled to himself watching her move away from the man. She was definitely going to make this night more bearable.

“Looks like you don’t need me around for protection. Although I did bring a drink so maybe I can earn my keep that way,” he said handing her one of the glasses in his hand.  “That was extremely impressive.  How did you lean to handle yourself like that?”  

She accepted the glass and shrugged.  “You live in Paris long enough you pick up a few things.”

“That isn’t something you just ‘pick up’. That’s experience.”

“And that is exactly what you get when you have a supervillain terrorizing your streets and thoughts for 5 years; experience. And how do you know about that move?  Rich boy secretly a vigilante?” She raised an eyebrow at him giving him a daring smile and pretending to take a drink from the glass.  She was on a mission and she didn’t know him.  She wasn’t about to actually drink anything a stranger gave her, let alone get drunk.

“You don’t grow up in Gotham without learning how to take down someone trying to cop a feel.  And what do you mean about a supervillain in Paris?” he asked taking a step closer to her, concern edging into his stare.

“It doesn’t matter.  It’s not relevant for tonight.” She said taking a step away and scanning the room again to locate the Waynes.

He looked at her for a few moments taking her in, not just her appearance but how she held herself.  She stood with confidence and nonchalance.  She wasn’t acting coy, she wasn’t baiting him to ask her more questions, she was serious.  There was some kind of supervillain running around Paris that they had no idea about.  Well that piqued his interest.  He wanted to find out more about that and just his luck, the only person around who knew about it was the gorgeous and badass Sunshine Child in front of him. Guess he’ll just have to suffer and spend more time talking to her.  The things he does for Gotham, he smirked to himself. “I’m Jason,” he said putting his hand out for her to shake.

She looked at his hand before hesitantly taking it. His hand absolutely engulfed hers. “Nice to meet you Jason,” she said looking toward the dancefloor.  She had last seen the Waynes near the dancefloor and they couldn’t have gotten far, right?  They were likely to be near it.

Misinterpreting her focus he asked, “Wanna dance?” placing down his now empty glass.

She needed a better vantage point to locate the Waynes and even if they weren’t on the dancefloor anymore, the dancefloor would be the ideal place get an unobstructed, overall view of the room.  She could see the entire room from the dancefloor.  She just had to scope it out discretely so Jason didn’t get suspicious.  “Sure,” she said smiling at him and accepting the hand he had offered her.

He guided her out onto the dancefloor.  Jason noticed a little girl standing nervously next to the dancefloor looking at a group of kids nearby.  “Hold on just a second,” he said dropping her hand to kneel down next to the little girl.  “Hey, I just wanted to say what a beautiful dress you have.  I wish you had a smile to match.  Anything wrong, kid?” he asked gently.  The little girl gave him a nervous smile.

“Thanks.  My Mom said I could pick out a dress and I chose this one.  But Mom says it looks silly.  It’s too fluffy and gets in everyone’s way.”

At that Marinette kneeled down next to her as well. “Oh.  Well, let me fill you in on a little secret.  I’m a fashion designer and I can tell you there is nothing wrong with fluffy.  You did a great job picking it out.  It is perfect for you.  I couldn’t design anything better.  I wish I looked as confident and effortlessly beautiful as you do. ”

The smile the little girl gave her was genuine this time.  “You really like it?”

“I do,” Marinette responded.  

“I do, too.  I’m not a fashion designer, but I still think you look good, kid.  And if anyone tells you they don’t like it, scr… I mean, forget them.  Who cares what they think.  A fashion designer and a delinquent think it looks amazing.  Don’t let someone else tell you what you like.” Jason added.  The little girl beamed at both of them and bounded off to join the kids with much more confidence.

Marinette watched him as he watched the kid play with her friends making raucous noise as they played, a grin on his face until he saw some parents come to reprimand their kids for being so noisy.  So, rich boy has a heart and is really protective of kids.  Well that wasn’t going to help Marinette focus solely on the mission. “That was incredibly nice of you.  That’s not advice I would have expected from someone attending a party like this.” Marinette said taking Jason’s outstretched hand again.

“Just because we’re miserable here doesn’t mean she should be, too.  Kids should be happy.  It’s ridiculous to bring a kid to a party if you aren’t going to let them be a kid. Adults in Gotham expect too much of their kids.  They treat them like props instead of kids, tools to help them achieve a goal.” He said voice getting gruff as he spoke.  He looked back at her and shook his head as if to clear his head of his thoughts.  He smiled at her instead and took her waist with his free hand to start dancing with her.

“You know, I noticed you never did give me your name.”

She looked into his eyes for a just a moment before she looked back to the dancefloor, “You know, I noticed that too.”

“Hmmm.  Secretive. No name but a fashion designer from Paris,” he said.  Marinette paled slightly refusing to look back at him.  He was paying attention to her and noticing details.  She hadn’t expected that from this crowd.  She was going to have to be more careful about what she said.  ‘Not get noticed’ played over and over in her head.  She was supposed to slip in and out with nobody remembering her.  She might have blown the mission already.  But, was she ready to walk away from those blue eyes?  Surely, talking with him couldn’t do any harm, right?  “So, did you design the dress you’re wearing?”

She was brought back to reality with a jolt.  “Yes.  Not… not my best work, but it fit the uh, occasion,” she stuttered out.

“Was the occasion to look stunning?  Because you do.”  He grinned smugly as she blushed heavily under his praise.  This was fun.  This was his new mission for the night; to see how many times he could make her blush.  “Still not going to tell me your name, huh?”

She looked back at him before dropping her eyes again.  Stupid mission.  If it were just her here for herself, she could stay here dancing with Jason and gazing into his eyes for the rest of the night, and tomorrow, and the day after for that matter.  But she wasn’t here for herself.  She was here for a reason and that reason demanded she be anonymous and keep track of the Waynes.

She scanned the floor again and finally spotted the Waynes, confirming they were all there.  Nobody had snuck off.  They really liked sticking around each other didn’t they?

“No, it takes more than a pretty line from a pretty boy to get my name” she said looking back to Jason and plastering on a fake smile. “I don’t need any rich boys remembering me after this is over.  Tomorrow I’ll go back to my real life and it will be like none of this ever happened. I can report that I came, I danced, and I even smiled a few times, then never speak of it again.”

“Friends or family forced you to come because they thought you needed some excitement in your life, Pixie Pop?”

“Something like that… Pixie Pop?”

“You won’t tell me your name and I need to call you something.  You’re little and mischievous and can handle yourself… Pixie Pop. Honestly, you’re lucky I didn’t go with Odysseus.  Also, you think I’m pretty?”  He grinned down at her.

She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, cheeks flushing slightly.  “I think that would have made you Polyphemus, which you certainly have the size for,” she grinned up at him.  “Anyway, that’s why I’m here.  How about you?”

“Oh, my family thinks I have enough fun already. I’m here because if they have to suffer, so do I.  And all to bolster the name of the illustrious Bruce Wayne.”

Marinette examined his face as he stared toward where she last seen Bruce Wayne.  He looked annoyed and frustrated.  This was a side of Mr. Wayne she had not heard about in her research, a side that frustrated native Gothamites.  A bit more information could be helpful for her to figure out what role he played in the Grimoire information Constantine was gathering, figure out whether or not he was a threat.  “Not a fan?” she asked delicately.

He looked back at her examining her face for any malice.  “Depends on the day.”

She hummed in response.  “What can you tell me about Bruce Wayne?” she finally asked.

“Why do you want to know?” he responded suspiciously. Most people looking for more information wanted it as a weapon.  Bruce might not be his favorite person, he might actually hate him right now, but he wasn’t going to help someone take him down unless it was him.

She shrugged, “everything I’ve seen shows an exemplary record for him.  You don’t seem to be a fan though and you’ve grown up in Gotham so you would have some good insights.  So, I’m wondering what your take on him is.  What he’s done to draw your ire.”

Jason nodded slightly seeming to mull over what she said.  “He does good things.  He helps a lot of charities.  He honestly does care about the city and the people and about making their lives better. His parenting skills could use some work though.  He could show his sons that he actually cares about them as more than tools, you know, whether they live or died…” he furrowed his brows and looked away for a few seconds before he schooled his expression.  His eyes got a wicked gleam to them and he leaned towards her to whisper conspiratorially “… and I hear he’s sleeping with Batman.”

Mari looks at him surprised.  “Huh, I guess he has a type then, supermodels, superheroes…”

“Supervillains…” Jason says under her breath looking back at Bruce and his date.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he covered quickly, but the damage had already been done.  She had started thinking about Bruce’s involvement with the super community.  If he was sleeping with superheroes and super villains, that meant he was part of the same circles as Constantine… and Constantine liked dating in the super community.  Could Bruce Wayne be in the super community?  That would explain why he had information pertaining to the Grimoire.  And she might need to revisit exactly how Constantine knew Bruce Wayne.

“Are you okay?  I didn’t break you, did I?” he asked cautiously.

“Yeah, fine I could just maybe use some uh, water?” she gave an awkward smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please?”  She just needed a bit of space to think.

Jason left to grab a glass of water and turned back to her.  She watched Bruce with her head crooked to the side.  He saw her finger discretely swiping to the right a few times as she stared intently at Bruce.  After a few times her finger swiped left instead and head straightened.  She looked around to the other members of the family as if she was counting, confirming something in her head.

Marinette’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized why Bruce Wayne could have information they needed and why Constantine needed her to keep an eye on the Waynes.  Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.  She turned away quickly.  This could not be happening.  This. Could. Not. Be. Happening.  She did NOT help him break into the BATCAVE while she kept tabs on BATMAN.

And if Constantine was trying desperately to avoid him, like he did all his exes…That little…

Jason had no idea what happened but as he got closer to his Pixie he could hear her muttering under her breath in French.  His French was a bit rusty so even the pieces he could pick up were scarce and nonsensical.  Something about maybe “lying” and “Roast Beef” and “bat” and “shark” and “fucking”.  He couldn’t be positive about any of the words except two; “fucking” and “bat” those he was pretty familiar with.  Not to brag but he could swear like a sailor in at least 7 languages.  And “bat”, he knew that word in a few more languages for obvious reasons.

She was abruptly moving and ran right into him before she could take notice of her surroundings.  She looked at Jason with wide eyes, reexamining the man she had spent the evening speaking and dancing with.  Suddenly, everything clicking into place.  There was one more hero she hadn’t accounted for, Red Hood, who while he hid his face behind a mask, just so happened to have the same towering build as Jason. But Bruce Wayne didn’t have any more kids, right?  And if the other vigilantes were his sons, Red Hood should be too, right?  He just had the three boys and the two girls who were out of town.  That was it.  He had another son, but that son had died.  What was his name… She gasped loudly, “Oh God! You’re Jason,” she exclaimed out loud.  

“Yeah?”  He said confused.  They’d been over this before.

“You’re Jason Todd,” she said looking down and taking slow breaths.  “You’re Bruce Wayne’s son.”

He looked at her startled.  She put that together quicker than he was expecting especially since she didn’t seem to know much about the family. “For what it’s worth, I don’t feel like his son most of the time,” he tried to joke.  “Sorry for not telling you before.  I don’t like talking about being in the family, or being in the family at all, actually.” He winced looking at her wide eyes.

“I wasn’t supposed to get noticed by the Waynes. Shit!”

“Then you shouldn’t have worn that dress… or that face… or that smile, Pixie.”  He said grinning suavely.  

She examined him for a few seconds, emotions flittering across her face almost too quickly to identify them.  Confusion, bashful, flattered, hopeful, guilt, pain, melancholy.

“I have to go.” She finally spoke up.

“Wait.  What?”

“I… I have to go”

“Wait, is it… you have to go because I’m Wayne’s son?”

“No, I… shit.  Putain de bâtard.” Yep, that one he understood too.  Wait... “Me?” He asked pointing to himself.

“No, not you… Not because you’re a Wayne, well kind of because you’re a Wayne.  It’s…” she faltered for a few seconds then muttered under her breath again “Je vais tuer cette putain de mère.”

“Wait, who is the mother fucker you’re talking about? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.  I’m just going to kill a bitch when I get home.”

“Okay… Okay, first, that is a lot more swearing than I thought you were capable of and I’m extremely impressed… and turned on,” he chuckled as she rolled her eyes at him and mumbled under her breath “you should have heard what was going on in my head”.  He raised his eyebrows at her suggestion.  “Okay, you’re making it really hard not to make out with you right now.” He watched proudly as her cheeks suddenly blazed red at his comment. Another point for him tonight.

“Second, if you’re just worried about Bruce finding out you were here, it never happened.  I never saw you.  You were never here,” he assured her.  Instead of calming her she seemed more panicked, eyes darting from the door to him. This seemed like more than just not wanting to get noticed.  She was into something and didn’t want to be.  “Or, if you’re in trouble, I can help.  You just need to tell me what is going on.  You don’t seem like you would willingly work with someone out to hurt others, so whatever it is, I’m sure you aren’t willingly doing it.  If it is something bad.  I just really have no idea what is going on right now and I would like you to tell me.” He continued earnestly, looking her in her eyes to make sure she understood how deathly serious he was about it.  If she needed help, he WOULD help her.  Even if he didn’t like her, which he really did, he was going to help put that smile back on her face.

She looked at him for another few moments opening her mouth slightly to say something then seemed to think better of it and closed it again.  She narrowed her eyes and looked away scanning the room as she thought about what to say and do next.  She seemed to come to a conclusion as she turned back to him and set her feet firmly on the ground.

“I never told you why I was here, did I?” Even before he shook his head she continued.  “I’m here to keep an eye on the Waynes.  On you, apparently.  Didn’t know you were back from the dead though, so I wasn’t looking out for you. Congratulations on that, by the way, you know, on the whole not being dead thing.  That’s really amazing.  I’m glad you can be around to enjoy life and laugh and be sarcastic and look at me with those eyes and look like that in a suit… probably even better out of it.”  She muttered the last part under her breath.

“I’d love to see you out of that dress, too.” He smiled smugly at her.

She huffed out a breath, cheeks reddening again, “Yeah, not happening.  I’m burning this dress as soon as I get out of here.”

“I can help you with that, too.  I like setting fires.  Two birds, one pyrotechnic.” He preened for a moment enjoying the flirting. Wait, less flirting, more focusing back on the more important part of her earlier speech.

“Wait, why are you keeping an eye on us?” he asked apprehensively.

“So I could warn my… associate if any of you left. So he could have plenty of time to… what is the best way to say this…” she looked up to the ceiling and took a deep steadying breath thinking about the words she wanted to use.  None of this was part of the plan. “…so he could have plenty of time to evacuate your… lair? No, lair makes you sound like villains… your illicit… cavern of, actually I don’t know if it is a cavern… and it isn’t really illicit, is it?  Well, actually I guess it kind of is, but that still makes it sound like you’re a villain…your underground… no, I don’t even know if it is underground… to evacuate your… uh… secret… base of… um, operations?”

“My what?” Jason demanded now more than a little concerned. “Who are you?”

“Nobody.  Absolutely nobody of consequence. And nobody who should be here right now.”  She turned to walk away before Jason stopped her.

“No.  You don’t get to say something like that then try to slink away like nothing happened. Come on, we’re going to go talk to some people,” he said grabbing her arm a bit harder than strictly necessary and dragging her towards his brothers and Bruce.  She definitely figured out who they all were or at least who Bruce was and that they knew too, which put her in danger, and she was working with someone to break into the Batcave, which put them all in danger.  Everything about this situation was dangerous and bad and they needed to talk to the family to figure out the best next steps.

Marinette dug her heels into the ground pulling against him, a really bad idea considering how high her heels were. Instead of stopping him she stumbled into his chest allowing him the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said squirming to get out of his embrace. “This is between you guys.  I have neither the desire nor the interest to get involved in this little lover’s spat.  I have more important things to be doing right now.  Things that asshole was supposed to be doing instead of pulling practical jokes.”

“Jokes?  What do you mean jokes?  What the fuck is going on?”  He looked at her again.  She wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t gloating, she wasn’t even nervous.  She was annoyed verging on enraged.  

“Nothing you need to worry about, Red.” She threw in the moniker at him to get him to back down.  She knew how important secret identities were, and how finding out someone knew yours could throw you off your game.  She felt a bit of guilt as she used that knowledge against him but this was no longer fun.  Now this was infuriating.  John was playing games with his former lover, or current lover, whatever Bruce was to him, instead of just helping.  He was taking time she didn’t want to spend, time the people of Paris should not have to wait.  They had spent weeks planning this when he could have just walked in and asked for the information.  They had wasted so much time.

“I. Do. Not. Have. Time. For. This.  This is not a joke.  This is not some gag for you overgrown children to play at,” she said hitting her finger into his chest with each word.  “I have people in need relying on me.  I have children counting on me. Parents counting on me.  Single people, who also deserve to live just as much as everyone else, counting on me and all suffering while they wait.  I. Am. Done.  And I am leaving”

Jason listened to her shocked.  Something was happening and he had absolutely no idea what, but somehow they were involved.  He hated not knowing what was going on.  Apparently children were suffering because of all of this and he didn’t know why.  But, he was going to figure it out.  She was right.  They did not have time for this.  Whatever was going on, they were going to help.  He turned away loosening his grip on her waist to just laying his arm on her instead of encircling her.  He touched his hand to his ear to activate the com hidden inside, “Tim, can you check the security video for the uh… our base of operations?”

It appeared that Tim was giving Jason some resistance because Jason turned away even further and started yell whispering threats into the air.  He was trying to be as discrete as possible in the crowded room, which normally wouldn’t be such a concern but there was a group of dancers headed their way, just leaving the dance floor after the song ended.  Marinette took advantage of his distraction and the sudden cover to twist away from him and slip into the crowd.

Jason called after her and tried to grasp her arm but missed her.  He searched for her but the crowd was too thick, having had to bottleneck to get past the tables surrounding the dance floor.  He scanned the crowd for her twisted hair or the black dress, but couldn’t see her in the group.  She had effectively disappeared, but if she went into the crowd, she would have to come out and cross the dancefloor in order to leave.  He could just wait for her on the other side of the group and keep an eye on the dancefloor.  He moved to go around the table, but that side was just as crowded so he did the only rational, discrete thing he could in the situation, he slid across the top of the table landing on the dancefloor and waited to grab her there, but she never came out.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

_____________________________________________________________

Marinette had a habit of catastrophizing.  She knew this.  Everyone who knew her knew this.  She thought of all of the worst case scenarios and tried to plan for them. Generally, it was a wasted effort that did little more than stress her out and annoy her teammates.  Today, however, today it paid off.  She had anticipated having to make a quick escape and once she decided it was time to go, she put her escape plan into action. Freeing herself from Jason, she pulled off her belt before even getting to the crowd.  As she entered the crowd of people, she pulled out her hair pin, letting her hair fall down.  She didn’t even have to hunch down much at all to disappear into the crowd as she weaved her way through them.  One advantage to being short.  She ran her left hand through her hair tousling it so her long raven hair cascaded around her shoulders.  With her right hand, she yanked at the cowl neckline of her dress, allowing the fabric overlay to drop forming a floor length skirt, revealing the bodice of her now red Harlow inspired dress that had been hidden underneath.  Her new dress hugged her body until it reached her hips then fell freely.  

Finally, she reached into her red purse, removed her phone, the cookie for Tikki, and Kaalki’s glasses, nodded to Tikki, turned her purse inside out revealing a now black purse with red detailing, and returned her phone, glasses, cookie, hairpin, and belt into it, leaving plenty of room for Tikki. The entire change took all of 10 seconds.  By the time she would walk out of the crowd, she would be completely unrecognizable, at least by anyone who didn’t already know her.  Unless that is, if they were looking for someone moving against the tide of people.  That would be a dead giveaway.  So instead, she pivoted and moved with the crowd instead of against it, parting with them after a few tables and moving laterally toward the exit.

Marinette made her way to the exit quickly, but not quickly enough to draw attention to herself.  She needed to get to Constantine before the “bat family”, as her research had called them, got to him.  They had reasons for keeping other superheroes out of Paris and she had no interest in having that particular awkward and slightly guilt laden (stupid gorgeous blue eyes she wanted to get lost in) conversation with them.  Especially when she was this utterly livid with Constantine, which was another reason she was rushing.  She needed to get to him so she could beat the asshole out of him. Oh, she was going to make him pay for this, and not in a way he would enjoy.  

She was angry and frustrated and guilty and grieved. She knew Jason didn’t deserve for her to snap at him like she had but she had been too frustrated to hold back and he was part of the problem.  She had been having fun with Jason.  She had been enjoying bantering with him and looking into his eyes.  She had really, really been enjoying having him look at her like she was the most interesting thing in Gotham and having him hold her closer than he had to while they danced.  And now it was gone.  She was a hero and he was a vigilante so he had to be kept at a distance.  A 3,670 mile distance to be precise, well approximate.

She was just about to cross through the exit when a voice stopped her.

“Hey,” a woman with short black hair and green eyes called out to her.  Marinette slowed down weighing the risk of just blowing her off vs the risk of stopping. She decided ignoring her might lead to the woman calling after her, which would bring unwanted attention, which she wanted to avoid.  Stopping seemed the safer answer.  As long as she didn’t look back at the gala or do anything else that might incriminate herself, she would be able to get away without any awkward conversations or fights.

“Yes” she answered with a strained smile.

“I saw that little quick change back there,” the woman responded.  Marinette’s eyes widened in panic.  Before anxiety could start going over all the worst case scenarios her mind could come up with, she was already in the midst of one of them in real life she really didn’t need to start thinking of worse things to add to it, the woman continued, nonchalantly scanning the people at the gala, “don’t worry, I’m not going to out you.  I just might have occasion to use a quick change myself from time to time, so I was hoping you might share where you got your dress.”  She shot Marinette a wicked smile.  ”Just because you’re hustling doesn’t mean you can’t look killer doing it.”

Marinette relaxed minutely and gave her a small smile, “it’s called MDC Designs.  She’s online. What’s your name so she’ll know who to look out for?”

“Thanks kitten.  I appreciate it.”  She said never looking back at Marinette.  “Selina.  Selina Kyle. I’d say nice to meet you, but we never met, did we?”

Marinette smiled to herself as she walked out the door. Maybe the night wasn’t a total loss. Hopefully, Constantine got the information they needed, she’ll get to punch his smug face as soon as she sees him, and she’ll get a new client.  Guess Adrien was right about showcasing her design after all.  He must never know.  Not such a bad night at all.

 Chapter 2

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