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sparklz02 · 2 months ago

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Chapter 2: Baby Steps

『Location: Postwick, Galar』

Eight years later…

Many years have passed since the joyous day of officially becoming a Pokémon trainer.

What have you accomplished during this you wonder? Absolutely nothing! Ok that was a lie, you managed to successfully evolve Feebas after grueling research and lots and lots of love poured into caring for him; totally worth it.

So, what are you doing in Postwick? Just looking around for adventure.

“We are geniuses for coming down to Postwick! Wyndon is pretty dry for adventure, don’t you think?”

Milotic nods in agreement.

At the moment, the two of you just arrived in Postwick town. The ride was pretty boring but at least the scenery was amazing. You made mental notes to visit other towns and cities to admire with Milotic.

You pull out the newly enhanced Pokédex—courtesy from Chairman Rose—and pull up the map to see where to start.

“Hmmm,” you click around the screen while Milotic watches your movements intently. “Aha, here!” You zoom onto a big lake area and turn the screen to show Milotic, “There’s this big lake not too far from the station! We can take a quick look to see the Pokémon then,” you shrink the map and use your index finger to point downwards, “then we shall head into town right after. Thoughts?”

Milotic chirps in agreement. “Tic!”

You stuff the Pokédex into your jacket. “Then let’s go!” You say as you run out of the station, Milotic follows your lead.

“Oh my goodness this is such a pretty lake!”

You take many photos of the beautiful blue lake and also snap some info of Pokémon nearby. Milotic swims into the lake and plays around with the resident water Pokémon.

Of course you couldn’t let this opportunity slip by so you took as many pictures of Milotic together with Pokémon. The photo session was cut short by an unknown female joining you…

“Liking the view~?”

“Huh?” You turn to face the unknown woman.

She smiles brightly and extends her left arm to greet you. “Hello, my name is Sonia. And you?”

You reach out to shake her hand gently and reply back, “My name is Y/n, nice to meet you.” You point towards Milotic in the distance, “And that shiny Milotic is my partner!”

“Oh my! I’ve never seen a shiny Milotic before. This is such a rare occasion!” She pulls out her own Pokédex and takes a handful of pictures.

After Sonia finishes taking pictures, she stuffs her dex away inside her mini purse. She turns around to face you once more and she reaches towards her hair to twirl a strand with her index finger. “So, what’s your reason for being here?”

“Pardon?” Your cheeks were dusted pink due to the sudden realization. “Is this lake…owned by someone?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m so sorry! There weren’t any signs about trespassing or ownership so I assumed it was open to the public and—”

Sonia giggles which promptly ends your rambling. Confusion was evident in your face, “What’s so funny…?”

She catches her breath and exhales happily. “Sorry, you just reminded me of someone but it’s ok!” She points ahead towards a lovely cottage in the distance, “That’s my grandmother’s lab right up ahead. She doesn’t really mind people coming and going to see the lake, as long as they don’t disturb or harm the Pokémon and environment.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and Milotic finally notices a new figure next to you. It swims out of the lake and positions itself behind you, carefully observing Sonia.

You reach up to caress it’s chin. “It’s alright Milotic, she’s a friend!”

Milotic leans against your touch and hums happily, acknowledging your words and letting his guard down just a little.

Sonia plays with her hair again. “I’ll be heading over to the cottage and I’ll be there pretty much all day. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to swing by~!” She says with a wink and leaves you and Milotic to continue with your excursions.

Who's That Pokémon?

The people in town were lovely. They greeted you and Milotic kindly and the children admired Milotic with curiosity and admiration. They asked to pet him which you and Milotic allowed and even gave them a mini educational session regarding the care behind Milotic and Feebas.

They were depressed when you had to leave for more exploration but you left behind some encouraging words so they wouldn’t feel too sad.

At the moment you were making your way towards Slumbering Wealds, the town's forest. However, you were warned to not go there due to the heavy mist that surrounded it but it’ll be alright, right?

You stop a few steps before entering the forest and look down the Pokédex for confirmation. “Looks like this is the place. Ready to go in for a quick look?”

Milotic seemed a bit on edge, you knew that he wasn't keen on letting you go but he knows it’s a losing battle trying to pull you away from ‘adventure’. Regardless, it placed its tail in front of you in an attempt to stop you.

“Hmmm, that’s a no? But it can’t be tha—”

“Woolo?! Where are you?!”

You both turn to the direction of the distressed call.

There were two boys and a girl with worried looks, looking around desperately for something or rather a Pokémon.

You locked eyes with one of the boys and his face relaxes once he sees you. He rushes to you quickly with hope in his eyes.

“Excuse me, have you seen a Woolo around here? It has a colorful bracelet on his right hoof!”

You look back to Milotic then back to the boy and shake your head. “We have seen many Woolo but none with a bracelet. I’m sorry.”

His face fell slightly but quickly washed it away with a strained smile, “Thank you nonetheless!” He looks behind you to see Slumbering Wealds and an idea strikes him.

He turns around to call out to his friends. “Gloria! Victor! I think Woolo could be in the forest!”

His two friends hear his call and run towards him in worry. After reaching them the boy, Victor,is clearly out of breath whereas the girl, Gloria, seems to be unbothered and shakes her head disappointedly towards Victor.

“You really have to work out more, ya know? Just look…,” she points toward your figure, “You’re embarrassing yourself in front of a pretty girl. You’ll never find a partner at this rate, or ever at all!”

Victor catches his breath but of course, he wouldn’t let himself be humiliated. “Shut…it…Gloria…!” He hisses in between breaths.

She crosses her arms and with a smug smile she continues, “You know I’m right, just admit it!”

Before Victor could bark another comment, their friend awkwardly steps in between them. “You guys…not in front of strangers…”

Victor turns away in defeat whereas Gloria snickers, clearly taking this as a sign of victory. Their friend sighs in defeat and walks over to you timidly.

He rubs the nape of his neck, “Sorry about that…and thank you again for your help.”

You shake your head dismissively, “I didn’t really provide any information so I didn’t do much. However…” you look back to the forest behind you and Milotic already knew the plan that was going through your mind. It placed its head on top of yours, telling you to stop thinking what you were thinking but you didn’t listen and pointed towards the forest, “I can definitely accompany you guys as some sort of bodyguard! Milotic and I—”

Milotic adds extra force and growls in disagreement. “It’ll be fine Milotic!” You reassured, “Besides, I’m a very responsible adult!” Milotic huffs as if to say you weren’t.

Gloria notices the unusual color scheme of Milotic and steps forward, “Hey…your Milotic looks different than the Milotic shown on the dex…”

“Oh!” You gesture towards its head that still lays on yours, “Milotic is a shiny! That’s why the color scheme is unique, it’s very rare to find one so I consider myself lucky!” You gently reach out to scratch its cheek, He is a pretty boy and the world shall marvel at his beauty!”

Victor pulls out his dex to hear about Milotic’s dex entry.

Pokédex: “Milotic: The serpentine Pokémon; a water type. Milotic live at the bottom of large lakes.

When this Pokémon's body glows a vivid pink, it releases a pulsing wave of energy that brings soothing calm to restless spirits.”

“Seems like Milotic is a very gentle Pokemon. How’d you two meet?”

“At Macros Corps.” You answered truthfully. “Chairman Rose decided to host an event for all of his employees' children and grant them a Pokémon. Funny enough, Feebas wasn’t part of the selection, I just wandered off somewhere and found him!”

Gloria chimes in. “That’s so cool!”

You took a few steps ahead toward Slumbering Wealds. “I can continue with the storytelling while we go find that special Woolo, shall we?”

“Oh right, I didn’t even introduce myself properly!” The boy exclaims.

The other two panic as well. “Oh my goodness you are so right Hop!” Gloria stretches out her hand for a handshake, “My name is Gloria!”

You reach out to reciprocate the greeting. “Nice to meet you, Gloria, my name is Y/n.”

She smiles cheekily and points to the brown-haired boy behind her. “That one is Victor and the boy next to him is Hop! Hop is Woolo’s trainer and we have been searching pretty much all day.”

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you three. Now then, shall we get going?”

“This fog is so heavy, I can’t see a thing!” Gloria whines.

“Are you sure Woolo would be here? We can turn back now and leave.” Victor suggested.

Hop seemed to understand their concern but remained firm. “You guys can go back, I’ll head in a bit further.”

The duo understood his sentiment and quietly followed him. As you all continued further into the woods, the rustling of grass nearby caught your attention.

You turned to the direction of the noise and took a few steps closer to inspect. Milotic peered from behind, ready to strike if necessary

A small green top with a red horn pops out of the grass which took you by surprise but then curiosity. You pull out your dex as the Pokémon stumbled out of the patch of grass clumsily.

Pokédex: “Ralts, the feeling Pokémon; a psychic and fairy type. Ralts senses the emotions of people using the horns on its head. This Pokémon rarely appears before people. But when it does, it draws closer if it senses that the person has a positive disposition.”

“Aw, aren’t you cute?”

Gloria peaks from behind and joins you in gushing over its cuteness, “It really is cute! Hey…,” She places down her bag and searches for an item. After a quick search she pulls out a poké ball and asks you, “Would you mind if I catch it?”

You shake your head, “Not at all, make it quick, we must continue our search.”

She nods and you move to the side with Hop and Victor to see the event.

Gloria exhales deeply, then fixates onto her poké ball, probably encouraging herself mentally. Ralts looks around curiously then catches sight of Gloria’s figure.

“Alright, let’s do this Sobble!”

She throws her poké ball and out comes a Sobble. It immediately takes on a defensive stance and Ralts is immediately startled by the sudden turn of events.

“Quick use Pound!” Gloria commands expeditiously.

Sobble launches forward without missing a beat. Ralts quickly catches on and dodges Sobbles attack.

Gloria thrusts her right arm forward. “Use Pound repeatedly!”

Sobble once again throws itself forward and repeatedly uses Pound but to no avail. Ralts kept avoiding all of its attack with ease.

After a few more Pounds later, Sobble hops back in exhaustion. As it tries to catch its breath, Ralts takes the opportunity to fight back with confusion. Confusion hits and sends Sobble flying back, landing in front of Gloria.

She quickly kneels down to cradle the poor Sobble and this gives Ralts the perfect chance to escape. Gloria quickly sees its attempt to flee but she pulls out another ball and clicks it to enlarge it. “Oh no you don’t!” She chucks the ball towards Ralts but it uses its psychic ability to throw the ball back to Gloria’s face.

Whack

Gloria is hit hard and she stumbles onto the ground while holding onto Sobble. Ralts snickers at her demise before leaving the battle scene.

She groans in pain and the three of you could only look away, pretending you saw nothing for her sake. She sits up and places her Sobble onto her shoulder as she stands up and dusts away any dirt from her.

“That Ralts sure has some manners huh?” She huffs in frustration.

The atmosphere becomes awkward and she couldn’t help but to look at all three of you to see what’s up with the silence. Seeing how you three were looking in different directions rather than her made her a bit upset.

She places her hands onto her hips and pouts, “Don’t you guys dare pity me! So what if I failed? It’s the effort that counts right?”

“That’s right Gloria! At least you tried!” Hop cheers in reassurance.

“Thank you—”

A howl interrupts Gloria. It was very loud and disturbing, something you would find in a horror movie. All Pokémon within the vicinity begin to flee, their steps could be heard nearby.

Everyone turns to face Hop. He was equally startled and began looking around frantically. Victor reaches out to grab his arm, “Ok I think it’s settled that Woolo isn’t here. We should leave—”

“But we can’t be sure until we go further!” He protests.

Gloria grabs his other arm, “I have to agree with Victor here. We also have someone with us and we can’t risk having someone else in danger!”

Hop resists momentarily but comes to the realization that it’s better to be safe than sorry. The fog thickens even more and that was enough for him to retreat.

“Alright…we have to go back. The fog is getting thicker.”

Another howl came through, but to everyone’s misfortune, it was close by. Too close for comfort. All four of you come together and have your backs against each other, trying to find out the direction of the howl.

The grass in front of Victor rustles softly, catching everyone’s attention. Hop and Victor pull out their Pokéballs while Milotic and Sobble jump in front of the group protectively.

Two big Pokémon emerge, one with an odd-blocky mane while the other one has ribbon-like mane. They stare you all down silently, despite having the number advantage, something about the Pokémon was completely on a different level.

You pull out your dex to scan the Pokémon.

Pokédex: “Error. Error.”

“What the heck does it mean ‘error’!?” Hop shrieks.

You ignore his question and snap a quick picture of the two Pokémon. Milotic huffs, watching carefully at the opposing Pokémon, seemingly making sure whether or not they were a threat.

“Should we just make a run for it?” Victor suggested.

“We can’t see through this thick fog you idiot! From which direction did we come from anyway…” Gloria hisses.

“Then our best bet,” you took a step forward. “Is to battle our way out. Milotic use Hydro Pump!”

Milotic unleashes a powerful water attack against the two unknown Pokémon. However…

“Did the attack just go through them!?” Gloria screeches.

Victor throws out his Pokéball immediately, “Grookey use Branch Poke!”

Grookey immediately comes forward and throws it stick but it also goes through the two Pokémon. Grookey hops backward and tilts it head in confusion. It begins to smash its stick onto the ground in frustration.

Hop proceeds to also throw his Pokéball, sending out a Scorbunny. “All together now!” Hop commands.

“Sobble use Watergun!”

“Branch Poke once more Grookey!”

“Scorbunny, Ember let’s go!”

“One more Hydro Pump!”

All Pokémon use their instructed move towards the Pokémon. Despite everyone’s efforts, the attacks mysteriously go through the Pokémon as if it was a secret technique.

Both Pokémon howl once more. It seems like their howls somehow had an effect on the fog, causing it to grow even more thicker than it already was. It was now much more difficult to see and the only thing that could be heard was their last and final howl that had a strange lulling effect, bringing you down to the ground and blacking out…

A splash of cold water brings you out of your comatose state. You lurch forward and cough away the water that managed to get inside your face. You shake away the uncomfortable feeling and rub your face with your hands and open your eyes slowly whilst blinking to get a clearer vision of your surroundings. “Don’t tell me I died this early in life…”

“I wish I did…” You hear from beside you. Turning to the source, it was a grumpy looking Gloria.

A weary chuckle grabs your attention next and it was…

“Champion Leon!?” You shout in surprise. “What are you doing here??”

“Well you see…,” he shifts his gaze to your Milotic who was currently looming over an unconscious Hop and Victor along with Sobble. He looks back to you, “Call it, an older brother's intuition.”

“Is that so…?”

Milotic and Sobble proceed to splash Hop and Victor with their water abilities which wakes them up just like it did for you and Gloria. They wake up with a start and cough vigorously as they scan their surroundings.

Another weak chuckle can be heard from Leon as he watches the scene unravel. From a distance, a roar could be heard. A strong gust of wind follows after the roar and low and behold, a flash of fiery red can be seen flying about before landing cautiously next to Leon.

“Is that your Chari—!”

“Leon!? What are you doing here?!” Hop coughed out in surprise. He glances toward the Pokémon next to him and beams in joy. “Charizard!” He gets off of the ground and tackles Charizard into a hug. “It’s been sooo long!”

Charizard leans down to accept Hops hug. As Hop attempts to give Charizard a bear hug, he feels something small and fluffy headbutt into him. Hop turns his head to the direction as Charizard follows his actions with curiosity.

A fluffy ball is on its back after head butting into Hop and struggles to get on its hooves.

“Wooloo!” Hop shouts in relief. He crouches down to his Pokémons level and gently rolls it over to stability. After Wooloo feels the security of the ground, in true friendship fashion, the two immediately go in for a big hug of relief.

“I’m so glad you’re safe Wooloo! I was so worried, and you had me, Gloria, Victor, and even a stranger running around like deranged psyducks!” Hop stands up and effortlessly lifts up Wooloo and turns it around to face you. “Now, I think it’s only fair you apologize to Ms. Y/n for all the trouble you have caused.”

“What about us!?” Gloria and Victor shout in unison.

“It’s a given that we give up our lives in the conquest of finding Wooloo. What’s not a given is dragging a stranger into our plans.” Hop says as a matter-of-fact.

“Now Hop…,” Leon interjects, crossing his arms with a concerned look. “I’m glad you love Wooloo so much that you’re willing to put your life down for its well being but…I think you should tone it down just a little.”

Wooloo and Hop look at each other, having a telepathic conversation only they knew. They nod before looking back at Leon with a smile. “You got it big bro!”

“That’s all that it took!?” The brunette duo screeched in disbelief.

A smile tugs at your lips witnessing the trios unique bond of…friendship. It reminded you of Bede’s and your relationship. Was it great? Bede was very hot headed and had a sharp tongue but you were immune to it.

His behavior made it difficult to make friends and by some miracle, (which even he acknowledges) you somehow tolerated his behavior. Well, considering that the both of you are in Chairman Rose’s good graces and one of his favorites, it was inevitable to be stuck at the hip.

The loud banter of the trio anchored you back to reality. A gentle tug from your sleeve shifted your gaze to the culprit behind, Milotic. You reach out to let his head after that whole ordeal with unknown Pokémon…

Oh, right.

You hastily reach to search in your pockets. Leon, catching your hasty actions, walks over to see the issue. “Everything alright?”

“Yea, yea, just…” Your fingers meet the hard object but the texture feels strange. “No, no, no, no, no please it’s my insurance—”

A crumpled Pokédex now lays in your shaken hands. The trio stop their banter after catching sight of your fear stricken face and join Leon to see the situation.

“It’s over…my precious insurance…” you mumbled quietly; bystanders would think you’ve gone insane witnessing you mourning the loss of your Pokédex.

“Can’t you just…get another Pokédex?” Victor says.

He will regret even saying anything.

“Another Pokédex? Huh, you know, you’re not wrong…it’s just that, there’s only one teen, tiny, problem.” You say with an eerie smile. You shove the broken Pokédex to Victor's face. “I don’t think the picture I took of those unknown Pokémon…can be recovered!”

Leon, the ever so wise and kind Champion, steps in to intervene. “Let’s not do anything rash now. We could…hmmm…” He reaches out to his hair to smooth out any imaginary hair that is sticking out. “We could ask Chairman Rose for his assistance if that data is really important to you?”

The idea of a solution was exactly what you needed at this moment. There was just one problem…

“Imposing something trivial as data retrieval onto Chairman Rose is a bad idea Champion—”

Leon cuts you off with a hearty chuckle. “Oh nonsense, Rose wouldn’t mind helping out one of his star pupils.”

“Star pupil?” Hop asks curiously.

‘Oh no.’

“Yeah, you see—”

Leon immediately seals his lips shut once he caught not only yours but Milotics deathly gaze. Without missing a beat, the two of you shake your heads no furiously and you throw in a motion of swiping your neck with your thumb, a warning of what’s to come if he doesn’t shut up.

“You see…” Leon starts again. “Turns out I am mistaken! I m-mistook your friend for Rose’s star pupil! Silly me…!”

“But…” Gloria turns to face you and Milotic; the two of you look back in innocence. “Didn’t you mention something about meeting Milotic at Macros Corp?”

“Yup!”

“So that means…” Victor chimes in.

Hmmm, when the truth comes back to bite you when trying to start a lie. In all honesty, you didn’t see this coming—even the narrator couldn’t have foreseen this—now what do you do in a situation like this? Fake it till you make it is what they say.

“You must know Rose’s star pupils right!?” Hop jumps in with fervor.

Or entertain someone else’s assumption. Saves you the trouble of fumbling out many lies.

“Well no—, I’m not well acquainted with the people at Macros Corp and not very outstanding enough to catch the Chairman Rose’s attention. I’m just a simple city girl with a cute and shiny Pokémon!”

The trio nod, accepting your words as truth. Leon and Charizard watched the interaction and could only shake their head and sigh.

Despite losing precious evidence that could flip all of the Pokémon Professor's world upside down, making new friends in the tranquil fields of Postwick was truly the best reward. Best decision you have made up to date, minus the broken Pokédex incident.

But we can’t end this chapter just because you made friends right? Like, cool beans, new friends who don’t know your true affiliations to Macros Corps! But they can’t save you from the impending wrath known as: ‘Parents’.

But…this narrator will leave you in suspense.

It’s Charizard!

『(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ In the meantime ♥』

“Sir, are you sure about this?”

Rose chuckles softly while admiring the view of Wyndon from the top floor of Macros Corp. He tightens his tie then reaches out to firmly tug onto his crème colored blazer, an attempt to fix his already perfect attire. “I’m sure of it, Oleana. What’s there to be worried about?”

Oleana glanced over her clipboard, it had a few papers containing details about a lengthy project that would soon begin. Her eyes narrow while going over the lists of names who would be involved, while also names who could be a threat.

“It’s just that…of all the people you would involve, why her?”

Rose nods his head, an acknowledgment to her concerns. He shifts away from the view and looks at his secretary. “Well, what can I do? She has a very promising future.”

He begins to walk to the elevator, Oleana following him in tow. As they enter, Oleana clicks the 7th floor button then steps back to be behind the Chairman. The elevator ride was…quiet; well, when is it not? But the silence could easily be cut through with a slash by any Pokémon.

“Chairman…” Oleana speaks softly, looking ahead at her boss. “What exactly about her makes you think she’s ready?”

Ding

The elevator opens and the two walk out. Oleana waits patiently for his answer, she knows probing any further would sour his mood for the day.

As they arrive at Rose's office, he walks over to his desk while Oleana closes his door shut then waits for further instruction. Rose plucks a picture frame that was sitting on his desk, a subtle reminder as to what drove him up to this point.

A soft smile adorns his face as he looks down onto the frame. He places it down but faces it towards Oleana before walking towards the big window view behind his desk with his arms crossed behind his pack.

Oleana catches the image, it was Rose as a young child alongside another young man, presumably a relative or friend.

“You see, Oleana,” Rose finally speaks up. “You may not understand this now but she is willing to help Galar, no matter how impossible the task. And because of that…,”

“It will be one of our greatest exploits.”

[And The Journey Continues 🇬🇧…]

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solelifauna · 3 months ago

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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)

Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.

If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏

The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.

You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.

“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.

“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.

“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.

How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?

You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.

“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.

“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.

“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”

“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”

“Im guessing its about–”

“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”

“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.

“Kill me? Eat me?”

She nodded.

You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”

“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.

“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”

“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”

“I’m aware.”

Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on.

“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.

You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?

“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!

“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.

The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.

“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”

And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.

“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.

“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.

“Sorry, dumb question.”

“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.

Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.

Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”

Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.

Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”

“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”

As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.

When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.

But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.

The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.

“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.

Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.

“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”

Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.

You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.

Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.

The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?

You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless.

As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline

Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.

“Im gonna kill myself.”

“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.

You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.

“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”

“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.

“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”

Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.

Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.

Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”

“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”

You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.

“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.

Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”

Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”

You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.

Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”

You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”

Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”

The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.

“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.

“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”

You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”

Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.

“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.

“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.

The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.

Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.

“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.

“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.

You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile.

“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.

“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.

“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.

“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.

As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.

You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.

You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.

As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.

Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.

“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”

You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.

“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”

He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”

The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.

Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”

The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.

You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.

Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”

“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.

Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.

“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”

The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.

With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.

The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.

“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.

“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.

The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.

You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.

Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.

“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.

“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”

“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”

The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”

You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”

As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.

The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.

As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.

As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.

With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.

“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”

“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.

As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.

You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.

“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.

“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”

Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”

You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”

“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”

The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.

The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.

Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.

Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”

“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.

“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.

“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”

Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”

You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.

The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.

“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”

The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.

“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.

Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.

You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.

“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”

He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.

“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.

“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.

Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.

“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”

He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.

“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”

You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.

“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”

You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.

You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.

Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.

[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]

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