#Tim living in Jason's shadow up to the point where the guy tries to kill him

[arrowheadedbitch]

Steph: Who was the best kid? Like, when you got them, who was best at, uh, being a..good kid?

Bruce, immediately: Jason.

Tim, traumatized: Let's not do this right now.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Graveyard Siblings (5)

[Masterlink] (PART 1) (PART 4)

-----

Mari and Cass sometimes switch their suits as they have the same body type. Cass would sometimes go out in full Hellbat gear and give the appearance that Hellbat is out more often than she actually is.

So Orphan/Black Bat also sometimes uses guns.

This also helps with concealing secret identities. Maria was rescued by Hellbat from Joker’s Henchmen. (Vicki Vale was getting sus of the new Wayne and Hellbat.)

Unfortunately since Hellbat rarely comes out and she had already made all of her appearance for the month and it wasn’t a busy weekend, the public had come to the conclusion that Hellbat has a crush on the newest Wayne.

Basically everyone thought that Mari has a crush on herself. Which led to some teasing and escalated to Mari announcing that Jason had a crush on Red Hood on live TV.

It didn’t help that a video of Red Hood and Jason re-enacting Romeo and Juliet with Jason on his apartment balcony and Red Hood on the roof was posted on the internet a few days later. (Thank you, Trixx and Tim’s awesome video editing skills)

Sadly, it was taken down 24 hours later. (Tim and the others have multiple copies of it, on the cloud or hardware, hidden around in the manor and their respective safehouses in the US.)

Some people kidnapped Jason to hopefully gain leverage over the Red Hood and to their dismay and nightmares for years to come, Hellbat came instead.

One lucky and incredibly brave reporter asked why she was there instead of her brother.

Mari being a little shit, “Red Hood may be a tough and scary guy but when it comes to his feelings, my brother is a chicken.”

Pictures of Jason tackling Hellbat somehow never made it into any papers.

The criminal underworld hasn’t taken a hint and Jason has been kidnapped a few more times.

Other times Jason was kidnapped:

Robin: Red Hood made a fool of himself in front of Todd recently and he doesn’t dare to show his face.

Spoiler: He was taking too damn long checking his hair even though I told him that no one was going to see it under his helmet and he was so offended that he is currently sulking in the bathroom.

Red Robin: Red Hood can’t think straight when he is around Jason. I mean have you seen the dude.

Arsenal*during a rare visit to Gotham*: Red Hood owes me one now.

Dick finally ends it by going out as Red Hood and rescuing Jason. Gotham is happy that Redson (Red Hood x Jason) ship has finally sailed.

-------

Kate, Babs, Cass, Steph and Mari were out on Mari’s first girls’ night since her move to the manor.

This is set a little after she came back from Paris with Jason.

They watched rom-com movies, did hair and nails, gossip about the superhero community and bitch and vent to each other.

Marinette off-handedly mentioned the crazy shits she had done during her stint as Ladybug. It started with asking about the T-rex in the Batcave and she mentions jumping into the mouth of a live one before.

Everyone in the room was shocked and after a few more questions, it was obvious that she was very reckless and self-sacrificing. Yep, she was going to fit into this crazy family just fine.

And Holy Shit. There is so much trauma packed into this kid. She needs lots of therapy.

Babs finally decided that they all needed to get out and have some fun. All in their respective suits and they went out.

Joined by Harley, Ivy and Selina.

Plagg came along because I want Plagg to meet Selina.

It was a chaotic night and it was a miracle that Bruce didn’t find out about what the girls did.

-------

Batman and Red Hood were on patrol together when Selina jumped in front of them.

“Hello, Boys”

“What do you want, Catwoman?”

“I want to meet my new prodigy, Kitty Noire.”

Cue Marinette jumping down from her hiding spot, transformed with the Black Cat Miraculous. “Hiya.”

Red Hood carries her like a potato sack and points his gun at the other two.

“Nope, she’s my sister and I called dibs. I adopted her. She’s off limits.”

“Legally, she’s mine.” Batman coughed out.

“I did it first. Emotionally. She’s my emotional support sister. You have plenty kids already, B and Selina, get your own.”

“Hey, I am still here and can hear you.”- Maria

-------

Alya was worried for Lila. She had been acting weirdly for the past month.

She looked very out of sorts. Her clothes weren’t in order and her hair was in disarray. She had bags under her eyes and her eyes looked wild. Lila didn’t look like herself at all.

She jumped at any sound and flinched at really sudden movements.

Alya tried to find out what was wrong with Lila and received vague answers.

One time Lila said that Marinette is to blame.

Alya reaches the somewhat right conclusion that Marinette was haunting Lila and hurting her because Lila used to come to school with bruises and claims that Marinette did it.

Alya goes to Marinette’s grave to desecrate it. (Yeah, go anger the ghost that is haunting someone.)

Unfortunately, the moment she tries to do something, the sky turns dark, clouds appear and the wind begins whipping. A Lightning strike near her and there was a cloaked figure beside her with a scythe.

All Alya saw from the figure was the blood-red lips in a very sharp grin and glowing blue eyes, raising the scythe high before she ran away. The scythe swiped the air where her head once was.

Alya didn’t get far before she tripped and blacked out.

When she woke up, she found herself in the hospital with no idea how she got there.

She was told that somebody found her with a concussion in the park and took her to the hospital.

------

The next one on Mari’s hit list was Natalie.

She wasn’t as involved in the whole thing like Lila, Adrien or Gabriel but she still did it anyways.

Her punishment is a little mild compared to the others and was more of a warning to Gabriel.

Natalie woke up in the middle of the night to see a not-so-dead Ladybug sitting on her vanity chair with the moonlight from the windows illuminating her body and her neck. Her suit was torn exactly like the day of that battle with blood dripping down her arms and from her open wounds. The shadows kept her face hidden but glowing blue eyes stared at her.

Natalie was scared at first. But she regained her normal cool composure.

“I assume you are here to extract your revenge for aiding in your unfortunate demise. But before you kill me, I regret my part in my entire thing and I apologize for everything I have done against you even though I knew it was wrong.”

“At least you show remorse over what you have done. Visiting my grave when even my parents didn’t and leaving flowers. I love those purple hyacinths by the way. Did you know that they mean sorry in the language of the flowers?”

“Why are you stalling my death? Just kill me already.”

“Madam Sancouer. You just played a minor role in my downfall compared to what Adrien and Lila Rossi did to me. And you showed more guilt over your actions than they ever did and Adrien claimed to have loved me. And like I have told the Bats, Death is too swift of a punishment.”

“Who are the bats?”

“None of your concern. You should be more concerned about yourself.”

“Lila sees the ghosts of her past and they haunt her. Adrien is in a living nightmare and has no control over his actions and is despised by everyone. What are you going to do to me?”

“Well, since you show some guilt over your actions, let me tell you a little secret. I am not dead. Not really. I mean I did die. But there was a spell in the grimoire that revived me. It took a few days to work.”

Marinette changed to her normal form. It was a little jarring to see an older Marinette Dupain-Cheng sitting on her vanity chair like it was a throne. The Ladybug suit and the wounds were gone. She looked a little familiar.

“Why are you telling me this? What was the point?” Natalie faltered as she wondered why the girl looked familiar. Marinette moved closer and her face was fully illuminated by the moonlight.

“I intend to take everything by which I mean everything from Gabriel Agreste for what he did.”

“M. Agreste just wanted his wife back. You just gave him your Miraculous, you would still have everything.”

“What difference would it make? Sure I had friends and family before but they turned out to be disappointing. I might have become a famous designer like I dreamed of and can't achieve because I died. Besides, he never said about wanting his wife to come back in his tedious monologues. For all we knew back then, he wanted them for world domination. He showed that he would end the world for them. For kwamis’ sake, he nearly started World War III, just for a pair of earring and a ring. He was willing to kill me to have her back. No wait, he did that too. If he actually read the translated grimoire or asked the Guardian or at least someone with magic for help instead or maybe used his head and made some who can heal as his champion using the Butterfly, we wouldn’t even be in this mess. Face it, Mme Sancour, your boss is a power-hungry and very controlling maniac who is also thankfully an idiot.”

“But- he- he just-. You are just a child, what do you know? M. Agreste knew what he was doing.”

“A child who had a normal life up until he tried to ruin it with his idiotic schemes and hiring Lila to do it. A child who had to fight a war on her own.”

“I am sorry you had to go through that but I doubt you and your little revenge rampage is going to solve anything.”

Ghostly Chains wrapped around Natalie’s body, squeezing tight like it was squeezing the life out of her.

“I was all for sparing you, you know. If you had actually listened to my side of the story, you would have spared from my ‘little revenge rampage’. This is going to be a little painful. Sorry about that.” In a tone that was definitely not sorry.

Pain coursed through Natalie’s body. Her skin crawled and itched as pitch back feathers grew out of it. Her bones turned to dust and reformed.

Where Natalie Sancour once was, there was a raven.

An omen of death and destruction for one Gabriel Agreste.

Marinette leaned down towards the raven. Natalie tried to peck her eye out but Marinette held the beak in a firm grip.

“Ah. ah ah. Luckily for you this is temporary. Mostly. Every night, you will assume this shape and each night the longer you will stay in this form. Slowly counting down the days until Gabriel’s downfall. Since you love helping him so much, you are going to help him know how long he has to live. The night you are a raven from sunset to sunrise, that sunrise starts the day Gabriel Agreste will be utterly destroyed.”

She released the beak and headed towards the window.

"Send him my regards."

With that, she was gone.

(Part 6)

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 4

Yesyesyes I’m super excited to share this one with you guys!! The game is finally beginning, ahhhh!!!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Chapter 4: Goddamn wimps, all of them

Marinette opened her eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight. She stood in a huge village square filled with hundreds of people, the gaps between them growing smaller as more and more players appeared. The sun shone merrily, and an excited chatter began rising in the air. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It felt good to be back.

“Marinette!” She looked around to see Alya and Nino waving a few yards away. She broke into an excited smile and jogged over to meet them. They must have spawned in relative to their actual locations since Kagami, Luka, and the others from her class were already there.

“Hey guys!” Marinette said breathlessly. “Almost didn’t make it. Thanks for the call, Alya.”

The brunette gave her a quick hug. “Anytime, girl. Now you and Lila can show us the ropes!” She bounced excitedly.

Marinette barely caught herself from rolling her eyes and just nodded instead. Of course Lila would be able to help teach the others how to play. It definitely wouldn’t just be Marinette teaching everybody. Again.

Meanwhile, Max and Nathaniel were remarking on how realistic the textures of the cobbled streets were. Marinette did a double-take when she saw Adrien standing next to them. He had an immensely intricate and ornate suit of armor. There was an excess of spikes, ribbons flowing from every joint, and every inch of him was covered in metal. A tall helmet adorned with skull decals cast a shadow over his grinning face.

“What are you wearing?” She spluttered. He pointed a thumb to his chest with some difficulty, the thick metal creaking with the movement.

“This bad boy is the toughest armor in the game! I may have made a few embellishments of my own, so now I look even cooler.” He stated with pride.

Marinette shot a look at Luka, who wore a light set of simple leathers. He grimaced and shook his head, warning Marinette not to question their friend’s surprisingly atrocious taste in fashion. Or serious misunderstanding of armor weight classes.

“You know you could’ve picked any armor you want, right?” Adrien asked.

“Oh, I know. I crafted this set during beta testing!” Marinette spun around to show the boys, gladly welcoming the change in subject. She was dressed in a light suit of armor, the metal tinted a deep red. Black fabric peeked underneath the gaps, a strong yet flexible design of her own making. A simple grey cloak hung off her shoulders, concealing the quiver behind her back.

While Luka and Adrien complimented her brilliant design, she spotted Lila. She looked a little out of her element, hanging back to awkwardly watch a conversation between Kim, Alix, and Kagami, oddly enough. The three were dressed in heavy sets of armor, lamenting about how there weren’t any monsters to battle yet.

Chloe sauntered over to join them and, having heard how even Kagami was itching for a fight, wrinkled her nose. Marinette giggled to herself. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.

* * *

Jason’s eyes snapped open and he threw out an arm to steady himself. The transition from logging on was dizzying, but the sensation faded with every deep breath he took. He noted the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. Damn, even he had to admit this tech was impressive. Dick and Tim stood next to him, wearing blue and red-toned armor respectively. Tim was looking around wildly, grinning like an idiot.

“Timmy!” Cassie Sandsmark sprinted towards them to tackle her boyfriend in a hug. Oh great, looks like the rest of the kiddy patrol was here too. Looking to where Cassie had run from, Jason indeed saw various members of The Team. Connor looked just as nauseated as Jason had felt after joining. Roy stood next to him, unmoving as he stared down at his very realistic-looking hand. Ouch. Jason had to have some sympathy for the poor kid, not that he’d ever tell him that.

Bart and Garfield, on the other hand, appeared to be having the time of their lives. Bart got into a running stance and Garfield gleefully jumped into the air, both falling flat on their faces. Jason snorted as he watched Jaime help his boyfriend up. Jaime asked him, “Whoa there ese, what gives?”

Bart shook his head and muttered, “I don’t have my speed.”

Garfield furrowed his brow and strained his face. “You look like you’re either really constipated or trying to shift,” Artemis informed him.

Ignoring her, Garfield locked his panicked eyes with Connor’s. “I can’t shift either, SB.”

“Der kaolc ym nrut,” Zatanna intoned quietly. When nothing happened, she nervously said, “My magic doesn’t work either.”

Jason rolled his eyes. Goddamn wimps, all of them. “Looks like all you supers will have to stoop to our level.”

“Stay whelmed everyone,” Dick stepped in to mitigate half the group’s outrage. “It’s just a game, we don’t exactly need our other skills right now.”

Before they could say anything else, an enormous bell mounted in the center of the town square began to ring. A hush fell over the crowd. The sky darkened as red hexagons interlocked to create a massive dome around the town.

A tall being flickered to life in the air above them. The hooded figure floated high overhead, their face eerily concealed.

“Attention players,” the figure raised their hands. “I welcome you to my world.” Well that didn’t sound ominous, Jason thought to himself. He felt the mood from the others shift into high alert.

“You may call me the Game Master, and I am the only one in control of this world. You may have noticed that the logout button is missing from your main menu.” The figure paused dramatically. “I assure you, this is no defect in the game. It is all as I have designed it to be. You cannot log yourselves out, and no one outside the game will be able to remove you forcibly. If anyone tries to do so, a transmitter inside the VR headset will emit powerful microwaves into your brain that will end your life.” Shit, shit, shit. This was just supposed to be a dumb game he played to make Replacement shut up about it, what the hell?

“Of the 10,000 players, 215 have already died because their family or friends ignored this warning and attempted to remove their headsets. Media outlets have been reporting on this, so it is safe to assume the danger of your headsets being removed has passed.” This guy had to be joking. Though if he wasn’t, Babs would surely research everything within her power to try to remove them safely.

“One other feature of the game is that you are no longer able to revive players. If your HP drops to zero, your avatar will die and the headset will destroy your brain.” Jason’s eyes widened and his head whipped to Dick. He ran a hand through his hair, looking just as horrified as Jason felt.

“The only way for a player to return to the real world is to clear the game. You are currently on Floor 1, the lowest level of the castle. If you make it to the dungeon and defeat the level boss, you may progress to the next level. Defeat the final boss on Floor 100, and you will clear the game.” This motherfucker couldn’t be serious.

The game master, god what a pretentious prick, raised his hands and began to disappear once more. He said, “Good luck, players,” before disappearing entirely. The sky returned to its cheery blue.

 A beat of silence passed before someone started screaming. Then the thousands of players erupted into a cacophony of sound.

* * *

Marinette stood stockstill amidst the chaos. She felt more than heard masses of people panicking around her. Her eyes darted back and forth without truly seeing anything, mind racing to figure out a solution. If there was no way to safely remove the headset, then they’d have to beat the whole game. What about the Kwami? Could they connect with their miraculi? What about the small powers they’d each accumulated over the years? If those were accessible, then they might stand a chance, but god if they weren’t--

A hand on her arm made her snap her head to attention. It was Adrien, his jaw clenched tightly. She gripped his arm in return, the small reassurance barely that. Around her, the new Order looked to their leader for orders, direction. And behind them, her classmates....

Most were white in the face. Max had his hands clenched in his hair and was muttering to himself about the likelihood that the headsets actually could kill them. From the way he was shaking his head, she guessed it was a definite possibility. Lila looked like a cornered animal, twitchy and desperately looking for an escape. Even Kim and Alix wore uncharacteristically serious expressions.

“Well?” Chloe prompted Marinette. The latter took a deep breath. Better focus on solving the smaller problems first. “Your VIP package came with a house on the first floor, right?”

Chloe blinked in surprise. “Yeah, it did,” she replied uncertainly.

“Good.” Marinette whistled and gestured for the rest of her friends to gather around. “Listen up! We don’t know how everyone else is going to react, so it’s best for us to go somewhere safe to lie low for a while. I can teach everyone the gameplay, and we’ll do our best to help beat the game.”

She looked Alya and Nathanial in the eye, since their hands seemed to be shaking the most, and said with all the confidence of Ladybug, “Think of all the bullshit Hawkmoth’s put us through. We are not going to die here. That’s a promise.”

Marinette drew her bow and half-strung an arrow, holding it parallel to the ground. “Chloe has a house on the first level. Let’s go.” She nodded to Adrien, Chloe, Kagami, and Luka to establish a perimeter around the rest of the class as they moved. She exhaled a quiet, shaky breath and led the way out of the square.

The crowd did not part easily. People were sobbing, shouting, hyperventilating. They needed to get out fast before the shock wore off.

Someone stood in front of her. The poor soul was probably just as scared as they were. She put her bow back in her inventory, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

“Excuse me,” Marinette gave a little half-wave to get their attention. “May I please get through?”

“Oh, sorry,” He had a deep, male voice. One hand gestured to the direction she was headed as he stepped out of her path. “Go right ahead.” His hands weren’t shaking as the other crept towards his belt. Not good, not good.

A flash of silver was all the warning she got before Luka pulled her back. A knife collided with his hastily raised shield, shedding sparks as the assailant nearly dropped his weapon in surprise. Marinette dropped down to sweep her leg beneath Luka’s shield, knocking the man off his feet. He gave a shout of surprise as he went down, and Luka disarmed him in the confusion.

“Come on, move it!” Marinette shouted over her shoulder. She re-equipped her bow and surged forward, picking up the pace to get the hell out of there. Such a large group was an easy target, they had to get out of the open and fast. People were starting to react beyond their shock, and more of them were bound to get violent.

Her eyes scanned over the buildings in front of them. There. A momentary break in the throng of players allowed her to spot Slipcut Alley, a favorite shortcut of hers. It was only a few yards away. The alley was too narrow for anything but a single-file line, but it provided cover and was hidden by a spell that only other beta testers would know about. It was their best option.

She squared her shoulders and pushed through the last of the crowd. She turned to face her friends, who gathered around her as they too made it out into the small clearing. Chloe, Kagami, and Adrien were watching the crowd behind them, ready to defend against any other attacks.

Marinette put her bow away one more time and asked, “Do you trust me?”

Shaky nods and wide eyes. That would have to do.

“Then follow me,” she said, and walked straight through the wall before them.

* * *

“Our first step should be finding shelter for the night,” Dick said sharply. “We can figure out the rest tomorrow, but it’ll do us no good if we die tonight.” Tim nodded, ever the protégé.

“And just how do you suggest we do that?” Jason countered. He couldn’t help it if it came out a little accusatory. He did not sign up for a damn death trap.

It was Garfield who had the answer. “Well, in order to do anything, we need money. So we need to start killing some monsters!” He palmed his fist with a resounding smack. “And then we can see about an inn or something.”

Connor rubbed his chin. “That’s not a bad idea, kid.”

“Just tell me where to hit them,” Roy said in a low voice, sounding about as pissed as Jason felt.

“Let’s split into three teams. Alpha squad will be Artemis, Wally, Bart, and myself. Tim, Roy, Gar, and Connor will be Beta. Jason, you’re with Jaime, Cassie, and Zatanna for Gamma.” Great, Jason was the only non-super there. What a grand old time that’ll be.

He made to leave the square and disappear into the panicking crowd, but Dick held his arm. “Hey, I’m trusting you to keep them safe,” he kept his voice low. “It’s been a while since they fought without powers, so keep an eye on them.” He then turned to address the rest of the team. “Alpha will take north. Beta, go south and Gamma see what’s west. Meet back here at sunset. Alpha will secure lodging before engaging enemies.”

“What, no pep talk?” Wally elbowed Dick. The latter didn’t crack a smile as he said, “Just stay alive.”

Beside him, Garfield swallowed hard and said weakly, “Noted.”

Jason rolled his eyes and jerked his head in their assigned direction for the other three members of Gamma squad to come with him. He’d follow along as long as Dick made good plans, and Jason didn’t exactly have any better ideas for now.

He put on his very best I know exactly how to kill you and I’ll do it if you don’t get the hell out of my way face and lead the way out of the packed square. The crowd parted easily before him, and they were out on an open street within a matter of minutes.

”Where to first, ese?” Jaime asked, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Good question. Jason looked around for a map or something that could tell him the way out of the damn town. When he glanced back for a quick headcount and only counted two, he cursed and asked Cassie, “Where the hell is Z?”

She pointed at a nearby stall where the magician was chatting with the vendor. Zatanna waved to them, then sauntered back over to the rest of the team. “The shopkeeper says there’s a bridge further down this street and to the left that’ll take us west out of the town.”

Cassie frowned. “Was that a player with their own shop already? Man, we are behind.”

“Oh, no it was an AI.” Zatanna readily supplied. “An NPC?” She added on seeing the confusion on her companions’ faces. “Honestly, was I the only one to do research on this game before playing it?”

Jaime sheepishly scratched his head while Cassie squeaked, “Well....” Jason had to agree with them, he just did this to keep Replacement happy. And get Dick off his ass, the meddling prick.

Zatanna shook her head. “Look, AI stands for artificial intelligence, and NPC is a non-playable character. They’re computer-generated people, not actual players.”

Jason caught enough to surmise that these NPCs were created by the same maniac that locked them up in here. He crossed his arms and asked, “How the hell can we trust their word if they’re controlled by that fuckin’ game master freak?”

Cassie bit her lip and had the good sense to look concerned.  Zatanna just shrugged and said, “I guess we’ll just have to find out. We can try following their directions but stay cautious in case it’s a trap.”

“Fine,” Jason sighed. “Let’s go.” He was already resigned to the absolute stupidity of the situation anyway.

They made it to the end of the street without incident, and turned where the shopkeeper had directed them to. There was a bridge, spanning a merrily bubbling river, and open fields dotted with trees beyond it. Jason could smell the greenery and apple blossoms from here.

“Wait!” Jaime threw his arm out. He made a face, then sneezed. “Aw man,” he gave a tremendous sniff. “Can’t eben escabe allergies in a video gabe.”

Cassie laughed at her friend and slapped him on the back, which only made him sneeze again. Dumbasses, they didn’t have time for this. Jason rolled his eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time that day and walked up to the base of the bridge. He slowly, carefully stepped across and edged his way to the other side.

The other three followed suit, and upon joining him, Zatanna said cheerfully, “Seems like we can trust the NPCs!”

“For now,” Jason muttered, still not convinced. He turned his gaze to the rolling hills before him, warm breezes sending waves that shimmered through the knee-high grass. He didn’t see any monsters, but there had to be some... right?

He used two fingers to swipe the air in front of him, opening his inventory. At least he remembered that much from the tutorial. He equipped the crossbow he’d loaded in when he created his avatar. Damn, that night in the Batcave felt like it was a week ago.

Jason took a wary step forward, into the grass. “Fan out,” he directed the other three. He didn’t turn to watch as he heard them draw their own weapons and creep up to flank him.

A rustle in the grass ahead had him throw a clenched fist into the air to have the others hold their positions. He waited until the movement stilled, then crept forward a few more steps, careful to keep his footsteps silent. He was within feet of it now, whatever it was. He hoisted up his crossbow to brace it on his shoulder and trained it on the last place he’d spotted movement. There was a sharp inhale behind him, and then Jaime sneezed loudly.

The head of a wild boar whipped up and it lunged for Jason. “Shit!” he yelled. Damn kid and his perfect timing. Jason blindly jumped backward and fired a bolt at the same time. It met its target and the boar shattered into glittering dust that resembled pixels. In front of him, a notification popped up that 20 copper coins, the crossbow bolt he’d shot, and a boar tusk had been added to his inventory. Huh, that was surprisingly easy.

“Wow, that was so crash!” Cassie pumped her fists in the air. “This game is gonna be a piece of cake.”

“Not so fast,” Zatanna frowned. “Remember, this is only the first level. It’s bound to be easy. It’s only going to get harder from here.”

Jason turned around to face them. “And just because that little shit was easy to kill doesn’t mean they all will be on this level.” He noticed Jaime hanging back, looking embarrassed.

“Hey kid,” Jason jerked his chin at him. Jaime's head snapped up. “Do you want to try the next one or wait by the bridge until your allergies clear up?”

Jaime opened his mouth to respond but had to sneeze again. “I think I’ll just waid by the bridge. I’b really sorry guys.” He trekked back to where they’d come into the fields.

“And then there were three. Ladies first,” Jason mockingly bowed, gesturing to the open fields beyond where the boar had been. Zatanna smirked and Cassie stuck her tongue out at him, which he returned with a rude gesture.

[catxsnow]

VENGEANCE T.D.

Summary: After Jason’s death, Tim was the one person that you could lean on, now more than ever. 

Tim x reader and Sister!reader x Jason

Warning: Jason’s death, obviously. swears

A/N: I’m not entirely content with this, might fuck with a part two, who knows.

GIF not mine 

Part Two

Word count: 2.6k

Jason Todd didn't hate Tim Drake.

He never hated Tim, he hated Bruce for allowing Tim to be put into the same situation that he was in. Jason never wanted to see another Robin be brutally murdered like he was. He never wanted another opportunity for some innocent kid who was just trying to make good in the world be beaten to death.

Jason did however, hate Bruce for not getting revenge on his behalf. He hated that Bruce never killed the Joker for killing him. That was why he was filled with so much hate towards the Wayne family. He thought he meant enough to Bruce to cross the line for once. Then again, he also thought that you would too.

You were Jason's younger sister, only by just under two years but he acted as if he was your parent half the time. When the two of you got taken in by Bruce, he became even more protective over you - if that was even possible. You were all Jason had for a very long time.

The shit that the two of you had gone through together, the things that you needed to do to survive, well, nothing could break that bond. Nothing besides the Joker.

The Joker took Jason away from you. When Jason found out that your mother was alive, he went on his own. He knew too well that you would want nothing to do with her - the two of you never got along, not that it was very easy to get along with her in the first place.

So, when Jason was on that cold, concrete floor, beaten half to death and blood dripping everywhere, his last thought was that he was glad you never came with him. He was glad that you never had to go through the pain that he did and the death that followed.

You had never felt so much pain in your life. The heartbreak that Jason's death caused you broke you in ways that you didn't think possible. Jason was the only one that was there for you when you needed someone, he was always the person who knew the right things to say, and wouldn't hesitate to get his hands dirty and make someone pay if they dared hurt you.

Jason was the best big brother you could have ever imagined. Losing him, was like losing a piece of yourself. You couldn't take the pain of missing your other half - so, just like Bruce had done, you put every spare moment of time out on the streets. Your mantle of Batgirl was upheld, but your antics more violent.

Bruce saw it, GCPD saw it, even Dick saw it and he barely stepped foot into the manor after his departure and fight with Bruce. However, no one said anything about it. Bruce was just the same, if not worse. His punches became harder, never ending until his victim was barely breathing. So close to crossing the line, but never far enough to not be able to come back.

And then Tim Drake came around.

He somehow figured out Bruce was Batman and that you were Batgirl. He knew that the two of you needed a Robin, someone that would keep you from passing that line for good. So Bruce took him in, he trained Tim and made him the next Robin.

You didn't mind Tim. He was a nice guy - even though you were very rude to him at first. The loss of Jason turned you in to a completely different person. Cold, untrusting, snappy, nothing like you used to be. He knew what had happened and tried his best to make life better for you.

Slowly, you started to warm up to Tim. You saw him less as a replacement to your brother and more of a friend. He didn't want you to think that he replaced Jason, he simply wanted to help to make sure that you and Batman kept your morals that you spent years maintaining.

He was the reason that you never crossed that line. Tim stopped you from killing the Joker. The moment that he popped his out of the twisted shadows he hid within, you were there, beating the ever living hell out of him. All you could see was him beating Jason, an innocent kid. You did this for Jason, to avenge him.

Joker was left in a bloody, beaten, lifeless pulp when you were done with him. Broken ribs, displaced knees, so much blood on his face that he wasn't recognizable. You wanted to kill him, you tried to, but Tim was the one to swoop in the last minute, stopping you from something you would regret for the rest of your life.

You broke down in his arms, crying that your brother was gone and that he was right, killing the Joker wouldn't bring him back. Tim held you as you bawled, promising that he would be there for you, no matter the pain. You just wanted to feel something other than the heartbreak that filled your chest - so Tim changed that.

Instead of grief, he filled you with happiness, love, desire. Upon trying to help you, Tim fell in love with you along the way. He spent hours with you, training to be better, crying on the year death of your brother, anything  to distract you from the pain. He was there with you every step of the way.

He was scared to tell you how he felt. Scared that you only saw him as a crutch rather than a lover.

On the night of a Wayne gala, he couldn't hold his tongue any longer. You wore the most gorgeous gown that he had ever seen, or maybe it was just because you were the one in it. So, when the two of you danced, hand in hand and effortless gliding across the ballroom, he ended the dance with a kiss.

You weren't expecting it, but the moment that he had his lips on yours, you completely melted into him. Feelings that you never realized were even there erupted through your whole body, a happiness that you hadn't felt since that day. Tim swept you off your feet, literally.

You were happy with Tim. He brought a smile to your face on the hardest of days. Patrolling became something that you looked forward to again rather than feeling like a chore. You were no longer as violent as you once were, Bruce was slowly feeling the same way. Tim brought a light to both of your lives.

Things finally seemed like they were getting back to a place of normalcy. You could sleep at night without waking up from a nightmare, visit Jason's grave (something that was always too painful to do before Tim), even go into Jason's old room. Things were getting easier, but the pain was still there.

"Batgirl to Robin," you spoke over the comms. It was a pretty normal night on patrol - a few common thugs but nothing major. A new and improved Batgirl suit covered your body - you had finally outgrown the old one.

"Robin."

"How do you feel about a late night sushi date after this?" It was nearing the end of your guys night and you were starting to get hungry. The bright lights of a 24-hour sushi restaurant were catching your attention.

"You always hated sushi."

The voice made you jump. This wasn't Tim's voice, in fact it wasn't even over the comms. It was coming from right behind you. Not very many people could sneak up on you - in fact only Batman was able to and this sure as hell wasn't Batman. A tall man with a red helmet and guns holstered on his hips stood before you.

His voice was distorted and you had no idea who it was or where they had come from. Gotham was filled with all kinds of crazy, but only few were skilled enough to best you.

However, it was what he had known about you that threw you off - hating sushi. It was true, you never liked sushi until you met Tim. He had taken you there on a date one evening and before you could complain about the choice of food, he had given you the best meal of your life. Not only did you like the food now, but eating it always reminded you of him.

You decided that attacking first, asking questions later was your best choice. You didn't know who this guy was but you weren't planning on finding out the hard way. This guy could be wanting to kill you - not that you would be surprised. After upholding the mantle for several years after Barbra, you had a pretty long list of enemies.

This guy, wasn't one of them. Yet.

Whoever he was, he knew how to fight. Every move that you pulled on him, he somehow knew how to block, counter, or predict. He managed to dodge nearly all of your attempts at a batarang hit and those that he wasn't able to dodge, deflected off of his helmet. He was good, maybe better than you.

You landed several good punches on him. Since his helmet seemed to be strong, you aimed for the ribs, the knees, and shoulders. However, it seemed that with every hit you got, he had returned. Pain flared up in your ribs and you were sure that they were cracked, if not broken.

The man's kick had pushed you across the roof and you landed painful against the ground. A loud groan was emitted and all the wind was knocked out of your lungs. This guy was good, there was no way that you could take him on your own.

"Robin I-" you never got to finish you sentence. A loud gunshot rang out with a bullet zooming right by your ear. Ringing filled your head and you flinched away from your earpiece.

"Batgirl? Batgirl! What happened? (Y/N)!" Tim yelled. You didn't dare reach to try and speak to him again. Not when his gun was out and pointed right at you. Instead, you raised your arms in a temporary surrender. This man, he obviously wanted something otherwise he would have shot you already.

"What do you want? Who are you?" He never lowered his gun. You narrowed your eyes at him, "you're not going to kill me, so what the hell do you want. Better make it quick, the Bats is on his way."

"You've gotten better at being Batgirl," He finally spoke again. The modulated voice rang loud and clear in the traffic filled night. "I still beat you though, just like always."

Just like always? What the hell was this guy talking about. You had never met him before in your life. You had fought a lot of people in your line of work but you would have remember someone like him - someone that could put you on your ass in a matter of minutes.

A fear began to well in your chest about what was going to happen to you. A fear that maybe this man would bring you to the same demise as your brother. It had been a long time since you feared death.

"What do you want?" You repeated a final time. With a wince, you pushed yourself off the ground, eye level with the barrel of his gun. Obviously, he didn't trust you enough for you to be standing without a weapon pointed between your eyes. You just hoped that Tim and Bruce would show up fast enough before this guy could do anything to you.

"Your brother would be disappointed in you."

Your breath caught in your throat. How did he know about Jason? How did he know what had happened to him? And mostly importantly, how did he know that you could never bring yourself to kill the joker? This man knew who you were, your real identity - or maybe he was just bluffing.

You didn't give him a reaction, that had to have been what he was looking for. How he knew your brother - and you- and why he was interested in the relationship, left you more confused than anything. You wanted to know how this man was, and more importantly, you wanted to know what he wanted.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know everything about you," he argued, his voice rising. "You couldn't avenge your brother, you let Batman replace him, what else have you done?"

"He never would have wanted me to cross that line, because he knew I would never be able to come back!" You matched his voice. Your fists clenched at your sides and you suddenly felt furious that this man standing in front of you pretended that he knew who you were and who Jason was.

"He would have wanted you to make sure that no one took the mantle of Robin again, he would have wanted you to make sure that no one would have to share the same death as him but what did you do? You welcomed the replacement right into your bed!" This man seemed to know more about your life than you would have ever thought.

Very few people knew your identity, Tim's, and Bruce's. You made sure that it was kept well under wraps so that cases like this would never have happened. No, this stranger was taunting you in the worst kinds of ways - your brother, and what he meant to you.

You always thought that you had done Jason's memory well - maybe not perfect but he wouldn't have been wanted to be remembered as the perfect son. He was brave, dauntless, he acted real and never caved into the posh society that the two of you were dragged into. Jason was human, and you made sure he was remembered that way.

Your jaw clenched and you swore that you face twitched in anger. Seeing red, you didn't notice that the man had picked up one of your previously thrown batarangs and threw it right into your shoulder. You cried out in pain and before you could retaliate, he was gone. You braced yourself for the pain and pulled out the metal just as Tim arrived on the rooftop with you.

"(Y/N)," Tim sighed in relief. He rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. His hands cupped your face and without thinking, he kissed you. "I was so worried, you didn't answer and I heard the gunshot. I thought you were dead." You shook your head, still fazed by the interaction.

"He knew who I was," You voice trembled. You finally looked over at Tim. He saw the blood drip from your shoulder and pressed his hand into the wound to hopefully slow the bleeding. "He knew who Jason was. Tim, h-he... the things he said, he thought that I would have been a disappointment to him."

"You know that's bull," Tim promised you. You were too much of an emotional mess to even feel the pain coursing through your body. "Jason would be so proud of the person you've become. You've saved so many lives - he would be happy for you. We're going to find this guy, he'll get the justice he deserves."

"No," You shook your head. The anger that he had cast upon you only kept growing in your chest. No one, disrespected your brother's memory, ever. You were going to make sure of that. 

"I want him dead."

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

For you fic called Satisfied. I wasn’t even reading it and I couldn’t help but be curious about the alternative ending. I know you said that you didn’t plan on continuing it, but I couldn’t get the thought out of my head because I really want to see the batfam’s reaction to Marinette trying to kill Batman.

You know, I was going to do some cute fluff for Valentine’s Day... and then I got this and I was like neW PLAN

Also, I think I’ve gotten worse at angst since starting antidepressants. Now that it happened it's obvious, but >:(

original

batboys’ feelings

@solangelo252 wanted to be tagged if I ever continued so here’s how the bats would react

She swung her legs absently as she waited for the bats to come home. She’d turned on the fire, and then taken a seat on top of the fireplace. It was a testament to just how long she’d been there that she was pretty sure her legs would catch if nothing happened within the next few minutes.

Not that she would have cared, really.

Her eyes swept over the room for what felt like the millionth time in her boredom.

She decided she didn’t like this living room. Too many couches. Rich people are weird.

And then there was the pictures…

She eyed the picture frames from across the room. She’d turned all them around a few minutes after she’d come in. There was something uncomfortable about looking at them… or maybe her problem was them looking at her? Either way, she didn’t like it.

Besides, she was probably going to be seeing them in person in a few minutes, and they definitely wouldn’t be having those smiles then.

Marinette didn’t quite know who would get home and when. She could have figured it out if she’d wanted, could have studied them for days on end, but why would she?

She knew Cass and Duke were asleep in their apartment, at least. They’d patrolled together all day. They wouldn’t be involved.

But any of the other batboys were fair game to show up at any moment.

Not that Marinette wanted them to. She didn’t know how she felt about most things anymore, really, but she definitely didn’t feel like killing them.

She could. If she absolutely had to. With her powers it would be easy… but she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

She was pulled out of her musing when she heard chatter coming down the hallway. They were close. Maybe. She couldn’t tell. Her ability to tell volume had been greatly diminished since her ears had been cut off.

She strained her not-ears to try and discern Bruce’s voice from the mix. She didn’t think she heard it…

They were definitely coming this way, though, so she’d know for sure in a few moments.

After all, there was no way that they wouldn’t hear the crackling of the fire. It was why she’d set it up, to bring them there.

The door swung open. Her legs stopped swinging.

Wow. Really? She knew her luck was bad, but really? How had she managed to get four out of the five people in the house to come in and not one of them was her actual target.

For a moment, the five of them stared at each other wordlessly.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Should she just portal out…?

No. They’d already seen her. If she left the bats would be more on guard the next time she saw them. This was probably her only chance.

But that meant --.

“Mari?” Dick’s voice broke through the silence.

Could she play this off as just her coming back? Sure, Harley likely wouldn’t approve of how long that would take her… but then again Harley likely wouldn’t approve of her coming home empty-handed, either.

She brought a hand up to rest over the tiny pin on her lapel. It was broadcasting everything that was happening straight to Harley and Joker…

She wondered, vaguely, what they were thinking.

They were probably laughing.

“Is that really you?” Said Jason.

She considered the question for a moment, then brought a smile to her face. “Maybe.”

Dick took a couple steps forward. A hand reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt, holding him back.

“You’re pale,” observed Tim.

Of course he would notice.

She giggled a little. “Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths do that.”

“Chemical baths?” Repeated Damian cautiously.

“Don’t worry, I was only thrown in chemicals… once? Well, I was thrown in once and pushed under twice.”

This didn’t seem to console anyone. Shockingly.

She hopped down from her spot on top of the fireplace. The bats tensed a little.

She gave a mock pout. “Don’t trust me?”

“Sorry, kid, you’re just acting… weird,” said Jason.

Weird? She hadn’t thought she was acting any different but, then again, she couldn’t really remember how she used to act.

“None taken,” Marinette said. “But, really, if I wanted you guys hurt, you already would be.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Is that so?”

Her eyes narrowed.

Dick sighed. “Why would you challenge her? Why did you think that would be --?”

“Well, I might as well prove him wrong, don’t you think? I mean, I could kill you guys with a couple portals if I wanted. A little snip --”

Two portals appeared dangerously close to Damian’s head and then closed again.

“-- or a good hit --”

She opened a portal underneath herself and touched ground behind the bats. She poked Tim in the back and smiled when he turned around, reaching out and stealing the pen attached to his chest pocket.

“-- and then there was this thing I learned how to do a little bit ago!”

She tossed the pen in the air and, with a brief flash of blue light, it was gone.

“... I still don’t know where things go when I do that,” she admitted.

Everyone stared at where the pen had just been, more than a little concerned about their own safety.

“How…?” Said Tim carefully.

She tipped her head to the side as she considered the question. Should she tell him the truth? That Nygma had asked her what would happen to an object if she overlapped the portals? Or should she lie and say that she used it to escape?

… probably the escaping thing. That might make them less wary of her.

“Well, after…” How long had she been in there? She didn’t know. “... after a while, I figured I should take my escape into my own hands.”

The boys flinched a little at that. Odd.

“I figured out that when I press portals close enough together whatever I catch in them just kind of… collapses in on itself? Or, at least, they stop existing. It’s hard to tell.”

They were all silent.

Except for Jason, who shook his head. “Wait, that doesn’t make sense. You would have just escaped if you could have done that. And didn’t you say that you needed to know where you were to make a portal?”

And now they were all way more suspicious. She could see them all properly raising their guards.

Even if they were all dressed in their civvies, she knew them well enough to know they had to be hiding weapons on them. They were paranoid bastards, even in their own home. On the off-chance that they didn’t actually have anything on them, they were still trained in hand-to-hand combat. It wouldn’t be a fun fight.

“Where’s Bruce, by the way? If we’re going to have a reunion, he needs to be here, don’t you think?” She tried.

“You don’t need to know,” said Dick.

“... he’s in the Batcave, isn’t he?”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t know how to get in.”

Damn. True.

“Any chance we could skip the next hour or so and you guys lead me there?”

“I think we all know the answer to that,” said Dick.

She sighed lightly. “Yeah…” She detached her lasso from her waist…

And then portaled behind them and took off running.

Marinette didn’t know where Bruce was, but they definitely did.

She waited until Dick had almost caught her before dropping through a new portal and clinging to the rafters of the next room. She watched him come to a halt, the rubber of his shoes screeching against the hardwood floors, and then look around.

The other bats weren’t far behind, coming to a stop beside him.

She watched their hands carefully to make sure they weren’t about to use their comms, straining her not-ears to hear what they were saying:

Damian checked the shadows of the room before clicking his tongue. “Does she know where to go? Should we report to father?”

“She’s on comms,” said Jason.

“Doubt it. If she still had access to comms she would have said something over the past five months,” Dick pointed out.

Damian raised a hand and she readied her lasso --.

Tim stopped him. “Don’t. It’ll put him on guard, but he’ll probably…” His blue eyes scanned the room as well. “... he’ll…” She tried not to move as his eyes passed over her. “... it might give up his location. She doesn’t know where Bruce is yet and she’s probably waiting for us to lead her to him trying to help.”

Alright. Fuck it. She may have had a crush on Tim back when things were good but he had to go.

“So what do we do?” Said Jason.

“Split up. We’ll text each other who is going to be the one to see him. She can’t follow all of us.”

Yep. Definitely had to go.

The four of them split off.

Tim and Jason had gone back the way they’d come, Dick and Damian had headed off in the opposite direction.

She waited for a while after Tim and Jason had split up, enough to make sure Jason wouldn’t hear and come to his aid, and then dropped from the rafters silently.

His steps came to a stop and he gave a tiny sigh.

“I know you’re there.”

“How’d you know?”

“Because, Bean, I know you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the old nickname.

He pulled his hands from his pockets and she saw the outline of his collapsible bo staff extending even in the dim light of the hallway. He spun on his heel to look at her.

“Any chance we can talk this out?”

She took a short glance around. They were in a hallway, so he couldn’t wield his bo staff quite the way he liked.

Then again, he wasn’t really trying to beat her. If he’d known she was going to follow him, then he was just using himself to buy more time. That was probably why he hadn’t outright attacked her yet, too, the longer he could drag this out the better.

Should she leave…?

No. He was too big of a problem for her to leave.

“I… I just want you to know that none of this is personal.”

“I know,” he said gently.

She raised her fists to fight and advanced on him slowly. “Oh, and if you do somehow knock me out, be a dear and don’t take off my glasses? I’m pretty sure I’d die. Apparently, it’s been five months and I wasn’t fed much.”

He winced ever so slightly.

And then he changed his stance. Business mode, then.

“Noted.”

She dodged his first swing with ease, he always started with a right swing.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as he attempted to jab her with the staff. He nearly stumbled in her haste to get out of range. They both knew that it would be over if she got in close, she’d be able to get a hit in and he wouldn’t be able to get any force behind his attacks.

She took a chance to look back to see how far they were from the nearest room. A good bit, he’d have to force her back quite a lot to get into an open space…

She turned around just in time to get hit in the jaw. She groaned and fell back, then did a quick backroll to get back to her feet.

“You’re out of practice,” he said.

She swallowed back blood. “And you’re a bitch, but you don’t hear me saying anything about it.”

They looked at each other in silence for a few beats…

Their fight styles were both calculated, albeit in different ways; his attacks were always meant to do enough damage to bring someone down quickly, hers were meant to use other’s habits against them. Tim had the disadvantage, what with her miraculous making his attacks less effective and her knowledge of him beforehand, and they both knew it.

She ghosted her hand over the lasso on her waist, wishing for her yoyo. A weapon she was used to would have made this go by far faster...

But it wasn’t the time to be sad over her loss of Tikki, she had other things to do. People to beat.

He ran forward suddenly, bo staff swinging, and she narrowly dodged the right swing. However, that was apparently not his goal, because swiftly used the staff to vault over her and rush towards the room for better mobility.

She grit her teeth and opened a portal on either end of the hall and he narrowly avoided running through it.

His eyes met hers and she sent him a smile.

“Worth a shot,” he said.

“Was it?” She teased, slowly advancing on him.

“I think so,” he said smugly, his eyes focused on a place over her shoulder.

On instinct, she turned to look. Then, when she found nothing, she mumbled a curse.

The end of the bo staff slammed into the side of her head and she stumbled back to try and avoid the worst of the pain. Stars danced in her eyes from two consecutive blows to the head, but she couldn’t concentrate on that. She shook her head a bit and brought her hands up to fight again.

“That should have taken you out. I hate your miraculous right now,” he decided.

“Trust me, you’re not the only one.”

He frowned. “Isn’t it the only thing keeping you alive?”

“See? You get it.”

His frown, somehow deepened. For a moment, he dropped his guard a little.

“What happened to you?”

“I’m sure you have a guess.”

She lunged forward and for once he was the one taken off guard. He quickly dodged the blow to his face and brought his staff towards her shin. He was trying to sweep her legs out from under her, but she had been ready for that.

She hooked her leg around the staff and brought it up. His body jerked forward, pulled by the staff. She drove her elbow into his back and Tim fell to the floor.

She moved the bo staff to her hand and pressed it to the back of his neck before he could get up.

“Any chance you’ll tell me where your father is?”

“Jason would be sad to hear you call him my father.”

“I... don’t care about him right now. Tell me where Bruce is.”

“Nope.”

She felt a little annoyed despite knowing that was going to be the answer. She hit him as hard as she could in the back of the head and winced when he went slack. She dug in his pockets for his phone and turned it on.

Thank kwami you could see notifications even when the phone was locked.

Redhoodiewastaken: should be there soon

She bit the inside of her cheek and pushed herself back to her feet. Her eyes flicked over Tim’s still unmoving body.

It couldn’t be that easy…

Right?

She didn’t know.

She nudged him onto his back with her foot and delivered a blow to his knee to slow him if he woke up too soon (she had a rope, but she wasn’t fond of tying him up with her miraculous weapon, and killing him was off the table if she could help it).

She rolled him onto his side gently and tipped his head back to make sure he could breathe.

She started back the way she came. She needed to decide who she was going to follow next.

Marinette needed to logic this out. Dick would be the best option to go look for their father, he was the most experienced and could hold his own… but Damian would likely want to go for his father because of his weird ‘blood son’ thing… but Jason had sent the text… but Dick was the best fighter… but Damian had a complex… but --...

… aaaaand now she was going in circles. Literally and figuratively.

She stopped her pacing.

It didn’t really matter, did it? She didn’t quite know where any of the people were. She knew the general directions they had gone off in, but that wasn’t enough. The mansion was huge… because it was, y’know, a mansion.

Whatever. She’d open portals in random rooms throughout the house and see if she could find a batboy that way.

After a few more attempts than she’d like to admit, she’d managed to catch sight of someone right as they left a room. She silently dropped into the room and then followed after them, Tim’s stolen bo staff in hand. Maybe it would give whoever it is pause if they saw her.

Damian. She was tailing Damian, she realized as she noted the glint of his shuriken.

Great. The one who was most likely to outright kill her. She loved her luck.

He had opted not to turn on lights because he was currently sneaking and he’d been trained by the League to use the shadows to hide. This was good, she could also use it to hide.

This was unfortunate, too. It meant that she only caught brief flashes of him to follow.

A shuriken sailed past her head when she was halfway through the hallway and she froze up instinctively.

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

“What gave me away?”

He considered her for a second before shaking his head. “Nothing, I just happened to look back at a good time.”

She nodded her understanding and then raised the staff. “Just tell me where your dad is. I don’t want to fight you.”

“That’s your mistake,” he said.

She dodged his next shuriken and collapsed the bo staff for the confined space. If nothing else, she could use the metal to pack more of a punch.

They sized each other up. They both knew that the first hit was usually a disadvantage unless you could get a knock-out first try. Neither of them were eager to put themselves at a disadvantage when so much was on the line.

She’d let him attack first. He’d get impatient at some point, and she needed to think of a strategy.

She couldn’t take him down. Physically, yes, he was probably -- no, definitely -- better than her at fighting, he had years of training on her... but she also needed him to be taken out of the equation. The less people she had pretending to search for Bruce, the better. He likely wouldn’t go if he thought she was tailing him…

A portal opened at her feet. She sent him a wink and a wave before hopping through.

She’d meant it when she’d thought he was a paranoid bastard. Now that she knew where he was and had proven that she could tail him without him noticing (unless he was lucky, which hardly ever happened twice), he would constantly think she was after him.

Tim’s phone buzzed and she looked down.

Therealdamianwayne: Drake is down. She’s armed with his weapon. Assume she has his phone. Everyone else confirm.

Idontwantpicturesthatsjustmyname: haven't seen her

Redhoodiewastaken: me neither.

That was the entire chat.

Nothing about Bruce and who was looking for him. Fair enough, they were assuming she had the phone, but still disappointing.

She started checking rooms again, head resting on her hand as she looked for a flicker of movement and strained to hear anything.

She managed to catch sight of Jason inside his father’s study. He’d changed into his Red Hood gear. She wasn’t sure if she should interpret this as him going to protect Bruce and wanting to be as geared up as possible or him attempting to be as good a distraction as he possibly could be.

Either way...

She dropped down behind him, letting her feet hit the ground louder than usual.

Jason whipped around at the sound and she couldn’t see his face behind his helmet but she didn’t think she wanted to.

Her eyes scanned over him briefly. He was wearing thick padding and armor, she knew…

Wait, was his outfit different? She looked at the red bat on his chest, which was brighter than she remembered it.

He clenched his fists. “You don’t want to do this, Mari, you hardly ever beat me when we spar together.”

“I have more to lose than a bit of honor, now,” she said. She extended Tim’s staff.

“Same here.”

She scowled and twirled the staff in her fingers. She eyed Jason carefully. He wasn’t wrong about her track record. He was all about pins rather than actual hits (or, at least, he was when she was involved), and that was hard to use against him. There were too many variations, too many ways to improvise.

And he had a weight advantage.

And he had very few vulnerable parts at the moment with his outfit. None, possibly, but… she had an idea.

She swung the staff at him and a small groan of frustration left her lips when he let it hit him dead on without budging.

Okay. Fine.

She jabbed the bo staff at his helmet and watched him actually step back to avoid it.

Her eyes narrowed.

She opened a portal above him and dropped down, her bo staff aimed for his head, and she scowled when he ducked to the side.

No matter, she thought as she latched onto one of his shoulders on the way down. The sudden addition of weight, light as it may have been, pulled him off balance. He went crashing into the desk.

Hands struggled for purchase as he drowned in her dress. She grabbed his helmet and started attempting to remove it, bo staff discarded for the sake of getting even one viable place to hit him.

Straddling one of his shoulders, she felt it.

A jolt of electricity ran up her leg and her body seized up in a mix of shock and pain. This was definitely not a good reaction, because she was still touching the stupid taser that he’d had installed in his outfit kwamI DAMNIT THIS HURTS --.

She managed to tear herself off of him, every muscle aching in a way that was way closer to the way the chemicals had burned her for her liking.

And then the pain was gone. Or, at least, the thing administering it was. Her body still tingled with electricity. Every little involuntary spasm only seemed to make it worse.

Jason leaned over her, the bat on his chest back to the shade of red she was used to.

The fucker CHEATED.

He pulled off his helmet and looked down at her mostly unmoving body, his lips drawn in a frown.

She glared up at him as much as her face would allow through the pain. It would be so easy to kill him. A little portal was all it would take.

He reached out and closed her eyes for her.

~

She forced her eyes open and cringed at what she saw.

The walls and ceiling were white and featureless. She had no clue where she was.

She remembered, vaguely, that Jason had once told her Bruce had contingencies for everyone, including his kids. She’d laughed at the time. Now…

She shifted out of the bed they’d put her in, ignoring the dull ache of her muscles, and explored the room. There was a door on one wall, she wasn’t surprised when she found it to be locked. Beyond that… nothing.

Except for a speaker. Her breath caught as she looked at it and she tried to fight back the sudden wave of panic.

What if this wasn’t Bruce?

This could just as easily be her punishment from Harley and Joker for failing. They’d put her in a white room before, this could just be the upgraded one since she’d actively disappointed them.

Would they have given her a bed if they were mad at her? She was pretty sure they wouldn’t, but then again it could just be one of their experiments.

She shuddered a little bit at the memory and suddenly found herself wishing for a jacket.

What would help her figure out if this was Joker or Bruce?

Her eyes scanned the room for any glass and found there wasn’t any observation windows. Point towards the bats.

She looked at her lapel and she whimpered a little when she found that the bug Joker had put on her was gone. It had been mostly hidden by the natural ruffles of her outfit. It wasn’t impossible that the bats had noticed it, but it was definitely unlikely. Point towards Joker.

… what else was there?

She didn’t need to wonder for long, because the speaker crackled to life:

“Marinette, we’re going to come in to talk to you about some stuff we found out while you were out, if you can promise not to attack us.”

She bit the inside of her cheek as she considered it.

“Fine. As long as it’s not Jason, I won’t attack.”

She could practically hear Jason’s whines. And maybe she could. Who knows, the others might be just outside the door.

Probably not, because it took an entire minute before the door opened to reveal Tim.

Well, they appeared to be Tim, at least. She wasn’t going to discard the idea that this was some new fear toxin-induced nightmare just yet.

He stepped through and it closed behind him.

She took a seat on the bed and he came to a stop a few feet from her. They didn’t trust her.

Fair. Tim’s head and knee were still wrapped in bandages from when she’d attacked them.

She allowed herself to wonder, momentarily, why he had come in alone when he was injured. She brushed this off, though. She’d already proven her goal wasn’t really hurting him or the other batkids, and the way he had come in had made it clear he didn’t actually have a key or anything on him.

She rested her head on her hand, scrutinizing his expression. He was trying to maintain a neutral facade, but she recognized the slight downturn of his lips.

“So? You had some findings?” She prompted when he didn’t say anything.

“Right.” He looked down at the clipboard in his hands. “I checked your vitals, and…” He cleared his throat. “You were right. Your miraculous is the only thing keeping you going, your cells haven’t had anything to go on for a long time. You’re… pretty much dead.”

She decided that this had to be real, not fear toxin. Or, at least, if this was fear toxin it was the worst batch Scarecrow had whipped up in a long while.

“... yeah? What’s your point?” She said, waving for him to get on with it.

This only seemed to distress the man in front of her.

“Bean, I don’t think you heard me, you’re dead. Like… not going to come back dead.”

She giggled. “I’m dead inside. Literally.” She held up a hand for a high-five.

He high-fived her on instinct then gave his hand a betrayed expression.

She smiled and put her hands in her lap, running her thumb along where her hand had touched his.

“Please take this seriously,” he pleaded.

“It’s not news to me, I’m the one who brought it up to you. I had, I think, seven granola bars, a cookie, and a few glasses of water for five months. Not exactly three square meals and eight glasses of water a day.”

He gripped his clipboard so tightly his knuckles had turned white. “Your ears were also cut off.”

“No? Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Please just… react normally!” Said Tim, his voice a mix of exasperated and saddened.

She didn’t bother looking at him. “If you haven’t noticed already, I don’t care.”

“You should! You’re dead!”

“What’s the point? I’ll die when I take off these glasses, whenever I’m ready to do that, and that doesn’t change whether or not I want to overreact about it.”

“WE AREN’T OVERREACTING! YOU’RE UNDERREACTING!”

She flinched and reached up to wipe the tears trying to form behind her eyes.

The reaction was instantaneous. Tim dropped his clipboard and, despite her having recently attacked him, dove towards her. Hands locked around her wrists and forced them back into her lap.

She blinked a few times, her brain struggling to figure out why he’d done that. She stared at the hands that had moved down to gently rest over her own, at the thumbs rubbing circles into her skin. She hadn’t done anything good. Why was he…?

She saw the way he looked to be on the verge of tears as well and it clicked.

Ah. He’d thought she was going to kill herself.

Marinette swallowed thickly and looked back down at their hands, trying to ignore the wave of happiness that had decided to rush through her at the tiny action. It wasn’t because she was good, she told herself, it was because he’d thought she was going to die.

She’d be useless if she was dead.

Not that she was very useful right now. She hadn’t succeeded at the one thing she’d been asked to do.

Now she was definitely crying.

So was he, actually.

Wild. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him cry before.

She hesitated, unsure what she was allowed to do, and then slowly leaned her head on his shoulder.

He rested his head against hers.

“We were so… we thought you…” He trailed off, unable to finish any of the thoughts aloud.

She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

She didn’t answer.

Time passed them by as they sat there, leaning into each other, their fingers intertwined.

But...

Should she ruin the moment? She had something she had to tell him. She was pretty sure he already knew, but if he didn’t...

She bit the inside of her cheek.

“Tim,” she whispered.

He nodded slightly to say he was listening.

“They have the ladybug miraculous.”

“We know,” he said quietly. To her surprise, he didn’t pull away. “That’s not what I’m worried about right now, though.”

“It should be.”

He shook his head slightly.

“What happened to you?” He repeated his question from when they’d fought.

Her eyes fell on their hands and she tried her hardest to ignore the tears sliding down her face. “Nothing much. Harley and Joker said they wanted to break me like they tried to do with you.”

He stiffened under her but didn’t say anything.

“But after one trip to the chemical vats Harley changed what they were doing. Put me in a white room like this one. Sometimes they’d dose me with fear toxin, most of the time I would just sit around waiting for Harley to come to try and talk me into killing Bruce. I think that was daily, I don’t really know.”

He drew back a little bit to look at her and she tried not to whine at the sudden cold that came over her.

“That’s… are you okay?”

“I think so. Like I said, it wasn’t much.”

He looked more than a little skeptical. “Okay, so why did they let you go?”

“Wanted me to kill Bruce.”

“But they trusted you to do it without running away, and you did.”

She shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

How do you say ‘I crave the validation of a supervillain’ without saying it? Because even saying it in her head makes it sound pretty bad.

And it wasn’t bad, just… abnormal?

Yeah. That was it. Abnormal.

Shit. He was looking at her for an answer and now that she was trying to think of literally any other sentence to say her mind was just blaring the same words over and over again.

“Uh… didn’t cross my mind?” She said lamely.

He stared at her for a few moments. “You want me to believe that you left the place they had been keeping you in, traveled all the way here, waited however long for us to come home, and fought us… and you didn’t think about leaving once?”

“... yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying happened.”

“I’m not buying it.”

“I’d be concerned about how stupid you thought I was if you did.”

He cracked a tentative half-smile before pulling her into him. “I don’t know what happened, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just… I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Won’t be safe for long. Do you know who’s using the miraculous?”

“Catwoman. She was a little upset she couldn’t keep up the ‘cat’ thing, but I think she doesn’t mind much anymore because of the whole ‘can summon anything at any time and fix every mistake she makes’ thing.”

“Makes sense.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

She pressed against his chest to pull away from him. “Right. Can I have a marker or pen or something?”

He looked a little confused before he dug into his pockets and found a pen for her. He handed it over. “Sure. Why?”

She twirled the pen in her fingers as she considered the question.

“I need to make a plan to get it back. Obviously. Now get out, I need to think.”

She attempted to shoo him, only to have him catch her wrists again.

“You need to rest.”

“I’ll be fine. Can’t work myself to death if I’m already dead, right?”

He looked reluctant to leave her after that, but she was already pushing him to the door. She watched him step through, trying to catch sight of the space beyond where they’d trapped her, but he was careful to leave in a way that blocked her view.

They still didn’t trust her.

Fair enough. She clutched the pen tighter in her hands.

She fell back on the bed. Even if there wasn’t an observation window here, there was sure to be at least a few hidden cameras to make sure she didn’t do anything to contact Harley and Joker.

And she probably would have if she could. They’d taken the bug on her and the cheap pager she’d been given in case something like this had happened, though.

Her brain wandered to Tim’s question from earlier. Why was she so determined to help Harley?

She’d thought it was just affection. But that couldn’t be it. Tim had given her some affection while he was there and, while it was nice to have someone touch her in a way that wasn’t violent, it didn’t have nearly the same effect as Harley’s hugs and praise did.

Marinette scooted up until her head rested on a pillow and closed her eyes.

Whatever. She could plan. She was good at those.

The options were to a) behave until she was allowed out or b) wait to be visited by Bruce and then put the pen Tim had given her to good use.

She didn’t like either of those options, but they were the only ones that would have a chance of working if she wanted to kill Bruce.

She let herself drift off. She had a lot of waiting to do.

[octalove]

VIII: Struck by Lightning

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Reader makes a confession, and goes on a date. Previous.

TW: Brief mention of gore (just blood)

In the weeks succeeding the Little Italy mission, I found a rhythm in the two conflicting heartbeats of my life. Occasionally, I met with Jason to file down the multitude of criminals who opposed him (it wasn’t all rescuing orphans and kittens, but his justice was fair and swift), and other than that, I carried on with life as normal; both as myself, and Batgirl. It was an inconsistent, exciting balancing act.

I tried to humor Bruce’s transparent attempts to placate me with cold cases, deeming it study. My school work had unsurprisingly lost its appeal, and I found myself rocking in the river banks of what was sure to be a failing grade in most of my classes- though I had yet to run ashore. Yet.

I danced along, despite my reprisal (a lack of sleep, and white lies on either side), and overall there was a certain stalemate. With that, peace. Or at least, the closest I could get.

On a Saturday I happened to have free (to my great relief), I woke up at one in the afternoon, to a blessedly dim day that kept the light in my room dark enough to cradle my lie-in.

I washed the sleep from my face, and stumbled downstairs, muscles sore from a Thursday night mission with Jason at the Port (of which I told my family I was going to a party). Tim was the only one in the kitchen- looking like he, too, had just crawled out of bed. He was eating cereal in silence.

We hadn’t been avoiding each other, per say- just got wrapped up in our own routines. Routines that kept me out of the house, and him trapped within it.

“Morning.” I said.

“Mm.” He replied.

I poured out my own bowl of cereal and settled on top of the glossy white granite. It was kind of a running joke at the Wayne household that you could sit anywhere but the chairs. Even Damian picked up on it- and, naturally, he was the best at it- perching his lithe little form atop the fridge at one point.

Now, Tim and I sat side by side on the countertop, shoulders brushing and spoons clanging against our glass bowls. Nothing more was said, but it was a comfortable silence.

I thought, for a second, about the world he’d been living in for the past few months as November bled into December. About his work and his many, many jobs he had to do. The way he shouldered them all week-to-week. He didn’t have to, but he did.

Tim made me a better person. I thought so, anyway.

But then, before I met him, I was the kind of person who let Carolyn Crawford slap me across the face to cover for someone else’s secret. Now, I was the kind who let other people take the blame for mine. Maybe Tim didn’t make me a better person. Only I could do that.

*

“I need to talk to you.” I said it firmly, and with authority. Mostly to convince myself that I was certain in my intention to go through with it. Bruce eyed me, looking up from his book.

“Alright.”

“...”

“...”

“In private.”

Alfred and Damian’s voices carried through to the living room as they had tea (an evening tradition). Bruce nodded, closed his book, and led me upstairs.

His office was a quiet, peaceful place. Finished dark wood, glass tables, and black leather accents. It was the room in the house that was most furnished to his own private taste, and thus, a glimpse inside was into him. It was mostly predictable; W.E. briefcases, notebooks and pens, case files open, and a map of the city that was displayed behind his desk. But there were other things too; a rubik’s cube half solved on the settee, a magazine featuring Vicki Vale with a pen in her hand and a defiant, head-strong look on her face. A gorgeous trailing point knife that belonged to Damian (probably confiscated).

I sat down in the chair that faced his own; his giant, glossy desk between us. I wanted to be swallowed into the dark leather. I felt like I was back at the shrink.

“Tim didn’t sneak off on the 21st.” I said quickly, cutting off the silence as quickly as I could. “He’s not the one who saw Red Hood kill that guy. It was me. I made Tim promise not to tell. He lied to cover for me.”

Bruce was quiet. He did that a lot; made you wait for him to speak. Seconds, minutes, hours. It all felt the same when he let you simmer in your own mistakes. I didn’t look up.

“I see.”

Silence. A long, testing silence. His irritating little desk clock ticked away.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Very well. You’re dismissed.”

“Really?” I asked. “That’s it? You’re not mad?”

He paused. “Should I be?”

I blinked, gaze falling on the floor. “I put Tim in a really shitty position. He didn’t have to lie, but he did because I asked him to. I’m mad at me.” I admitted quietly.

Bruce nodded pedantically, resting his head on his hand. “Then that’s good enough for me.”

I furrowed my brow. It wasn’t good enough for me. “It was wrong.” I clarified, trying to press for some manner of reprimand that I didn’t truly want, but felt deserving of anyway. Bruce considered this, in his quiet, inscrutable way. After a moment, he spoke.

“Your mothers trusted me.” He said. I knew that. My parents were business-oriented like that. They were pulled together by happenstance, each without family and carving their own way in the world by studying international law, and applying it to companies who could afford private foreign trade, such as Wayne Enterprises. I attended the parties, the galas, standing around in my designer gowns while my moms handed out their business cards and talked about imports. They weren’t neglectful, just distracted.

“I don’t know if you remember-“

“I do.”

And if I had a dollar for every time the cops or the shrink asked me if I remembered that night, I’d buy my own manor.

Bruce Wayne was at my birth. He and my mothers had been business partners for a while by that time. He watched me, dutifully, when my parents went on date nights, and played catch with me when I accompanied him and Dick to the park. He cooked me breakfast the morning after my mothers died.

I knew it wasn’t a random killing, but he didn’t talk about why they were murdered in their own bed until I was fifteen. By then, I was knowledgeable enough to go searching through the police reports on my own. So instead, one night he’d sat me down at the kitchen table, looking at me earnestly.

“You have to understand, Y/N. Your mothers were...” He’d taken a deep breath. Tried again. “They were involved in things. Things I didn’t know about. It made them a lot of enemies.” Then, something harder passed his features. A frustration.

“They were completely blind to the fact that it meant you would never have a normal life. Not as long as they kept it up- that... double life.” I let the statement hang in the air for a time. “That was stolen from you, from the moment they got involved with the Baciu. And I’m sorry.”

It was easy to be sorry. I was sorry, too. My mothers got themselves tangled in Gotham’s heroin trade, and they weren’t careful enough, so they died for it. It was fairly cut and dry. Open file, close case. But the part that was so bitter to swallow was that it happened to me. A fourteen-year-old child creeping into my mothers’ bed because I’d heard a noise, and the re-runs of Ghost Hunter I’d religiously consumed were conjuring movement in the shadows. But there were no ghosts. Just sheets stained with blood that looked black in the darkness. Just the wet, clogged sort of sound when I peeled back the covers, unable to register they way my mothers were bent, and stilled in a way that only death can induce, where just earlier that night they’d been walking and talking. Bringing me Chinese take-out for dinner.

Their death, and everything that followed was emptying. Cracking open a great chasm and bringing death home, into the halls, and into my room. No longer a rumor. It was an empty chair, and a storied space made cold and worthless. It would’ve been easier if they had simply died as a random killing. Tragic, standard, random Gotham City killing. If I had just been that unlucky. If they’d only been struck by lightning. Instead, I grieved twice; once for who they were, and another time, for who I thought they were.

When Bruce adopted me, I became Batgirl. I made it my own vendetta to stop criminals without killing them, because I knew that some- most of them had children at home who would be the real victims if I did.

But then, I thought deeper. More considerately, about who my mothers were. Moreover, who they weren’t. Pearl and gold, white teeth and hairspray. Singing to me, and playing Monopoly, at which they were both so competitive that they had to kiss and make up after every game. Bringing me a strawberry cupcake in bed every year on my birthday. Kissing me on the head. Telling me to be good. Leaving me in that big house. Going off to Port Adams, or Crime Alley. Signing orders. Putting bodies in Finger River.

Nobody’s innocent here, dollface.

“They trusted me.” Bruce’s voice interrupted my reminiscing with the ghosts of my past. “I know their death was hard, and you may still be recovering. I’m trying to do the best I can for you.” He finished. For all the gnashing teeth and avaricious expanses of Gotham City secrets, he looked tired.

“I know, Bruce.” I said quietly. “Me too.”

*

The following Tuesday, I got home from school and started on a mountain of homework I needed to do- some make up work as well. Christmas break was around the corner, and I was slowly losing motivation as the semester drew to a close. I had too many distractions; and tonight was no exception.

Ding.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down, eyebrows raising to find that it was a text from Jason- one that wasn’t just a pin dropped to a location.

Meet me at Twin Sharks. I’ll buy you a coffee.

- What’s the occasion?

No reply. I sighed. I should’ve called him and made him tell me, but I knew that I would go no matter what, so I decided to play the apathy card. Despite my cool response, my heart (the traitor) was fluttering like a bird. Was this about the kiss? Our partnership? Was it an actual, regular date? Or was he breaking it off? My mind raced, and as I pulled together a tasteful outfit and sprayed myself with perfume, I promised myself that it wasn’t for him.

The Twin Sharks was a diner in Upper West Side, near China town. It was nicer than the likes of Sherman’s, or anything else East End had to offer. The late afternoon was unexpectedly bright, clouds parted for a sweet reprieve of gold and blush in the sky. The sun was a striking blood-orange, hung low over the city. It struck a match in my chest- some childish, poetic hopefulness.

The diner’s door jingled, and I scanned the booths and tables. It was a little crowded, but I spotted Jason alone in a booth, his eyes cast down, involved with his phone. I made my way over to him, slipping off my coat and plopping down his opposite.

“Hey.” I said. His eyes fell upon me, and I saw something on his face- maybe surprise, or something to that effect- before he composed his expression into something unreadable.

“Hey.”

The diner had a big, hot pink neon sign that depicted a matching pair of sharks above the counter. Its buzzing glow mixed with the orange gleam of the lowering sun through the windows- it was all very rose-colored.

The waitress put a coffee in front of me, and I got to work on adorning it with the little cream and sugar packets on the table. He watched me do it for while.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Nothin’.” He said. Then, he reached across the table, and took my hand, pulling it back to him, and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. I was so startled by it that I dropped the sugar packet I was holding. Neither of us seemed to notice. He turned my hand over and placed another kiss in the inside of my wrist before returning it safely to my side of the table. I was certain my face burned like the neon sharks.

“I’m- um- is this a date?” I asked, trying to get him to say something- anything- to get my mind off the way he’d just reduced me to a puddle.

He looked amused by that. “You want it to be?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, stirring my coffee. “You invited me.”

He nodded, eyes falling away. “Yeah. I’ve got an update for you. D’amici business.”

“Oh.” By the look on his face, it wasn’t good news.

“You’re not gonna like it.”

“Perfect. My day’s been a little too good so far.” I said. He slid me his phone- on the screen was an article from the Gotham Quarterly.

Young Bride Found Murdered in Diamond District Estate

I read over it a couple times, brow furrowing. “You mean...“

“Penelope. It happened last night.”

“Shit.” I muttered, scrolling down and scanning through the article. My throat caught as I read over it. She was shot in her bed. “It says there’s no suspects.”

“Course it does. It’s the mafia. They handle things nice and quiet.”

“And I’m guessing you have a few a suspects.” He nodded grimly as I slid his phone back to him.

“One better. I know exactly who did it. I think you do, too.”

I put my head in my hands, mulling over my options. Really there was only one. Penelope’s beautiful, flustered face and apologetic eyes flashed through my mind. Her wind-chime laugh as we ate scones under the watchful eye of her adoring, peculiar grandmother.

“Okay.” I resolved. “Let’s get that girl justice.”

[watchtower-feed]

Death Do We Part (Part 15)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Words: 2,700+

     You rest your head on your knees as you look at Tim. Your lips tremble as you watch him struggle with his thoughts.

     He stares at his hands with narrowed eyes before you hear his broken voice.

     “... I don’t know if I want to be Robin anymore.”

     The morning dragged on agonizingly slow with Tim hiding in your room, Bruce nursing a drink in the kitchen, and Alfred sitting beside him. But when Bruce’s phone rang and the hospital told him that his son, Richard Grayson, was just admitted into Gotham General, everything sped past like a blur.

     The city traffic buzzing through the car’s window. The loud reporters hounding you at the entrance. The doctor’s mouth moving in silence as he reads from a chart, explaining Dick’s condition. You were only picking up words like critical and surgery.

     The first thing you became conscious of was Alfred’s hand on your shoulder. “Y/N. He’s going to be okay.” You didn’t even notice your tears until he was wiping them away.

     It’s past midnight in the hospital room. Tim is sleeping on the couch. Alfred is  in an extra bed. Bruce had just stepped out for coffee. And you’re still awake, curling up in the armchair closest to Dick. You’re holding his hand and looking at the fringes of his hair lying on his forehead. Slowly you loosen your grip to brush them back, but Dick’s fingers curl around yours.

     You’re too busy staring at his hand when he opens his eyes.

     “Hi…”

     You cover your mouth to trap the sob that’s lodged in your throat. “Dick--”

     He smiles. “H-hey hey. I’m okay.” He sounds exhausted but he still tries to laugh. “It’s just-- what? Like broken ribs again?”

     You frown at him, “One punctured your spleen, Dick. They had to stitch it up during surgery.”

     Dick chuckles, “Another one? Man. I swear I get one every other month. I probably passed out on Jason.”

     “You were with Jason?” your voice hitched a little but you lower it right away and check on Alfred and Tim.

     “Oh yeah… we had a nice little chat…” Dick’s looking at you now while frowning. “So… you’re leaving.”

     You pause and then look down when you answer, “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from Jason since yesterday morning.”

     Dick raises one eyebrow and teases you, “The morning after?”

     “Shut up,” you snap at him in a whisper, making him snicker quietly. You blush but you can’t help give a small laugh as well.

     Dick smiles at you.

     “He told me you were leaving and I was hoping to charm the two of you into staying.” He gives you a look, one that’s both sad and disappointed. “But I don’t really think that’s an option, huh.”

     Dick squeezes your hand and your voice is a lot softer when you answer, “He killed the Joker, Dick. In front of Bruce.”

     “Yeah. He told me.”

     “And you almost died, too.”

     Dick laughs, “Ye of little faith in me, Y/N. I had those guys--”

     “But the bomb. That one was real--”

     Dick shushes you. “Jason’s friends got me off the bridge before it went off. Guess you guys were too busy watching Jay and Bruce’s fight.”

     Dick slumps back against the pillows and stares at the point where the ceiling and the wall meet. “I hate to say it but Jason thought of everything.”

     Tim grumbles in his sleep and you both turn to him. Once the rise and fall of his chest becomes even, Dick speaks again.

     “This must be hard on Tim, huh?”

     Tim has been tossing and turning in his sleep. When he was in your room, he checked on his wound and was surprised to find that Jason had changed his bandages when he was unconscious.

     You watched Tim’s surprised look slowly morph into one of anguish. He didn’t know how to believe that Jason and the Red Hood were one and the same. Or is he just a persona Jason created to do what he can’t do. To protect the hard truths he wanted Bruce to realize.

     You close your eyes and slowly climb into the bed next to Dick. He makes room for you and you carefully curl up next to him.

     “He told me he didn’t want to be Robin anymore,” you whisper.

     Dick pats your head and hums to himself.

     “If I was Jason and Tim-- I was them. I was Robin and I always thought… I always saw Bruce as more than just Batman. He was my dad and my friend. He was my protector.”

     When Dick’s hand stops moving, you wrap your arms across his chest and hug him tightly. You can feel the even breaths he’s trying to maintain but failing.

     “But after what Jason did--” you can hear him clenching his teeth as he speaks, “After realizing that Bruce will always be Batman--to everyone-- more than anything else in the world… it shatters something in you, like you’re not special...”

     Before your life turned into this living tragedy, you always thought Batman was just a myth. You’ve seen him sure, leaping and gliding over rooftops from your window and from the streets, but you always knew he was just a man playing pretend. Maybe a police officer finally fed up with the red tapes and the joke that is the Gotham justice system.

     You always thought Batman was just another Gothamite who just got sick of being battered and bruised.

     “It doesn’t mean I agree with Jason, though.” Dick’s voice is a little lower. He’s giving you a long look with the same sad and disappointed expression. “His heart’s in the right place but Y/N, he’s the one who doesn’t understand.

     “When Bruce first brought me in, my parents were murdered by this guy-- Tony Zucco-- just a typical low life mobster in Gotham you know-- no one like the Joker. But when I became Robin, Bruce’s greatest concern was whether I would seek vengeance against that guy.”

     Dick’s gaze strays away from you. He’s looking somewhere past his feet, seeing something that’s not there.

     “I had him, Y/N. I tied him up and suspended him over a ten-story building, half hoping he would die, or break every bone in his body from that height and live out the rest of his days as a vegetable.

     “Then Batman came out of the shadows. He didn’t stop me. He didn’t talk to me-- he just put his hand on my shoulder the whole time, while I stood there and held this man’s lifeline in my hands.”

     Dick closes his eyes and takes a deep breath but he doesn’t open them again. The skin at the corner of his eyes crease and there are folds in his brows. When he speaks again, it’s rushed and he sounds exhausted.

     “In the end, I couldn’t do it. I dropped him from the third floor. He broke a few bones and that was it. It didn’t make me feel better. Killing him wouldn’t have brought my parents back-- it also wouldn’t prevent another family from ever being murdered…

     “Jason thinks he can get rid of evil in the world by killing criminals but he can’t. Because everyone is nursing evil inside of them-- I have something evil inside me.”

     Dick’s lips are quivering when he opens his eyes again.

     “Batman is the only one that doesn’t because all he wants to do is protect... everyone.”

     Bruce has heard enough. He’s been standing outside the hospital room with his hand on the handle when Dick started talking about avenging his parents. Desperately, he wants to go in there and join you and Dick. But the writing on your arm pushes him to visit the rooftop instead.

     He steps out to meet Gotham’s foggy air and reaches the end of the ledge when he calls out, “Worried about Dick?” He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t hear Jason’s footsteps approaching him from the shadows, but he knows he’s there. “You should be. He’s here because of you.”

     Jason stops abruptly and clenches his fist. “Wrong. He’s hurt because of your self-righteous courtesy toward the psychotic filth of Gotham.”

     Bruce turns around. Jason doesn’t have his helmet or his mask. He’s wearing a black trench coat but Bruce can still see the Red Hood symbol peeking from his chest. Bruce lifts one corner of his lips. “How does it feel?”

     To Jason it looks like a smirk on its ways to becoming a snarl. Any semblance of a smile on Bruce is unsettling.

     Bruce faces him fully with his hands in his pants pockets. “Now that you’ve killed half of the inmates in Arkham, how does it make you feel?” He watches Jason and lowers his brows and his mouth turns into a straight line. “Like it’s not enough. Right? Like there’s still a few more loose ends-- and you just have to be sure.

     “I know you went after Penguin and Dent after the club last night. I also know you’re still after Harley.” Bruce eyes his clothes.

     Jason tips his head to the side and replies to Bruce with a small smile.

     Bruce tries to control the urge to arrest Jason then and there. He tries to stop being Batman for just one second before he loses his son for good. He takes in a breath and releases it like a sigh. He takes out his hands to gesture to Jason.

     “If I could give you one last piece of advice. As a father. As a friend. Ask yourself if this is the type of person you want Y/N’s soulmate to be. Do you want her to be with a murderer?”

     Jason didn’t expect that. He was ready to have another go at Bruce, maybe their last showdown before he leaves town, but now he just feels insulted.

     “Fuck you, Bruce. I just want her safe-- To do a better job than you did for me. Be better than you.”

     Bruce shakes his head. “You can do that without taking another person’s life, Jason. Killing people will only put your lives in more danger.” He points to Jason’s chest. “And you-- the Red Hood-- are a testament to that.”

     Jason looks down, the crimson symbol on his chest peeking at him from his loose coat. The Red Hood is supposed to be just a means to an end. A myth strong enough to withstand the Bat’s. A new player to hook in the Arkham villains. Not someone who’ll join their ranks.

     Jason looks back to glare at Bruce.

     “I didn’t come here for a lecture.”

     The pause Jason gave didn’t go unnoticed to Bruce.

     “I assume you’re here to see Y/N,” Bruce replies. “She’s talking to Dick. She hasn’t noticed your message yet.”

     Bruce walks up to Jason and sizes him up. Jason watches as his demeanor changes. Bruce stands taller, his shoulders seem to go wider. Jason doesn’t need to see the cape to know who’s standing in front of him now.

     “Leave Gotham before sunrise.” 

     Jason can see himself reflected in Batman’s eyes. He suddenly looks like a child. The kid sleeping on the streets of Gotham. Scavenging in the garbage just to get by. Stealing to survive. 

     Bruce sees his own reflection in Jason’s and it terrifies him. He relaxes his shoulders and leaves his eyes half-lidded. Slowly, he lifts his hand and places it on Jason’s shoulder.

     “Take care of each other, son.”

     Bruce takes back his hand and starts walking to the door but Jason slaps something against his chest. Bruce looks down and sees that it’s an envelope. He looks back at Jason but he’s looking away from him.

     “Give it to Alfred… please.”

     Bruce smiles. He gives Jason a small nod before he takes the letter and leaves the hospital rooftop.

     When Jason hears the doors close shut behind him, he lets the panic settle in. He first feels its claws scratching at his throat on its way up to his mouth, prying it open, making him gasp for air. Jason jumps when the door slams open.

     You see your soulmate standing on the rooftop.

     “Jason?” 

     You run to him and wrap your arms around his shoulder, as far as you can reach. He bends down and you hold him tighter. “You’re okay!” you exclaim against his coat. “I passed Bruce on the way here and I thought--”

     “Y/N.”

     Jason’s voice is shaky. You pull away to take a look at him but he holds you tight against him. You feel it now, the way his lungs are expanding rapidly and his heart is beating hard against his chest. He’s gripping your clothes as he pulls your body closer to him, afraid to let go. Afraid you’ll let go.

     “I want to stay…”

     The Joker had killed him and it killed you. The League had planned on using you against Jason. Scarecrow poisoned you. But now they’re gone. Dead. The Joker. Scarecrow. Black Mask. Bane. Croc. Clayface. Penguin and Dent.

     Jason killed them all.

     “You told me to find a better life. Away from all of this, remember? And I wanted that.” Jason hides his face on your shoulder and you can feel his tears seeping through your shirt. “I wanted that for both of us. But how could I do that if we have so many enemies? How could I do that if they can come after us at any second?”

     Battered and bruised.

     Dick’s wrong. Jason doesn’t have evil inside of him. None of them do. Everyone is just broken. Cracked under the pressure of the city’s heavy fog and manipulated into playing a never ending game of survival.

     You glare at the horizon of the drab cityscape. Yellow lights left on all night. Sirens blaring at every corner. Sewer stench wafting toward the roofs. If Gotham hasn’t broken you yet, it will tomorrow.

     You hold on to Jason tightly.

     “It’s okay, Jason. Everything’s going to be okay.”

     “It’s not, Y/N. We can’t stay-- I can’t stay.”

     “I know…”

     You rub Jason’s back to soothe him. 

     “It’s not just the Joker,” you whisper. “Gotham did this to us. It’s taken something beautiful from us-- our link-- and used it to abuse us. It tore us apart and made us forget who we are.

     “We can’t stay here. We need to leave Gotham not because we’re not welcome. But because we need to heal, Jason.”

     Slowly, you pull away from Jason to take off his coat. He watches as you unzip his kevlar vest and lets you take it off of him.

     You stare at the symbol in your hands and silently thank it. Then you drop it on the floor. Jason is too stunned to stop you when you reach for one of his guns inside his coat. You fire two shots into the vest.

     This is something you feel you need to do. Jason got to kill the Joker, the phantom menace that has haunted your dreams and waking moments. You only get this. The barrel is still smoking when you return it to him.

     You pick up the vest and walk to the ledge of the roof. You pull back to gather as much momentum as you can and throw the vest out and down into the busy streets. You watch the Red Hood fall to its death until you can’t see it anymore.

     Jason holds your hand and you turn to face him. He watches the look on your face, determined and unmoving. As if you hold all the cards and you know exactly where to go. He’s never seen such an expression on you.

     He squeezes your hand

     “I’ll go anywhere with you, Y/N.”

     Just before the sun rises over, you’re already on a bus heading West, far enough away that even Wayne tower’s shadow can’t reach you. You pat the bag on your lap that has some clothes and your new identities.

     As the bus crosses the bridge, Jason is watching the subtle pink and orange light peeking over the ocean that meets Gotham harbor. It’s a rare sight and one you’ll both miss. He turns to you.

     “Hey,” Jason calls. “Look at your arm.” He takes out a pen. You watch as Jason writes on his arm and finally finishes his last words to you.

     I love you.

END.

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 10: Mari plots plotting

So long time no post. I live. Ish. Also finally figured out readmore on mobile, so yay. Will take forever to edit posts now though. Explanation at the bottom First part here previous part here. Ao3 here

Marinette wanted to go on record that Mandeliev did not, in fact, give her an extra day or so to study for the test. Why? Instead, she was told she may do a paper on the application of physics in gymnastics and principles of evasion in urban areas and how to combine the two to maximize one’s ability to run away from akumas and other dangers.

Or as Nino put it: “I am tormenting you into running better, the eight page essay.”

Alya dubbed it the “Run Better Paper.”

Aurore said it should include more formulas when Marinette showed her the draft. (as Adrien would complain about lack of theories and how she should have used this advanced formula she’d never heard of instead and then Marinette would have to forcibly stop him from taking over her paper. Again.)

Kim had taken to keeping her in his hoodie, escorting her to the bakery and didn’t leave her alone until Adrien said it was his “Marinette Anxiety Watch” shift.

Which she would like to go on record, is just plain mean to say. She has Liar 100% under control when world ending things and metaphorical bomb drops aren’t happening to her constantly.

—-

Bruce tried to contact Diana and Arthur again. Hal was off world, and therefore useless.

Why?

As his missing son hadn’t contacted them yet. Was still in the Miraculous team’s custody. And he saw the footage of Robin—Damian—being hunted by a lving shadow, an element casting swordswoman, and a strategist that seemed to know exactly what to do to keep Robin cornered in battle. The living shadows—Chat Noir—tried to kill his son with Cataclysm.

That was when they were in public, and had Hal watching over them.

He didn’t want to think about what the kids might do unsupervised to someone that tried to kill Ladybug, openly stalked her civilian self, and apparently tried stalk her again, in broad daylight. And possibly may have revealed her secret identity…

From the comments, it seemed that the Parisians hadn’t connected his sons aliases to the pair, writing it off as “Copy-cat Vigilantes” thankfully. And none of them were revealing more than “so the Fashion Disaster tried to go after Chat and Ryuko’s civvie… Not A Smart CopyBird” was the most he was able to get.

His children, on the other hand…

——

“I Fucking KNEW IT!” Tim yelled. “I knew it was her!”

“But,” Jason smirked. “You didn’t tell us.”

“Soup girl, baby bat!” Cass said gleefully.

“Wait, we both talked to her—and you didn’t say you thought it was her either Cass!”

“So what I’m hearing, if my ears don’t deceive me,” Jason continued. “Is that you all lost too.”

“What—“

“Wait a minute!”

“No way—”

Cass shrugged. She was the least invested in winning. She got to meet soup girl, who is very nice and her parents are safe for Baby Bat.

“We don’t have proof,” Dick pointed out. “Didn’t you say something about her being a mouse?”

“I—”

“Well—”

“Yes.” Cass cut through Tim and Stephanie’s waffling. “She is.”

Dick rubbed his forehead. “How many secrets can one kid have?”

“Five?” Jason said without much thought. “Limit is definitely five.”

—-

“Let me get this straight,” Miss Sting began, watching Ladybug very, very carefully. Rena and Carapace were busy that night and couldn’t act as the team’s Common Sense Filter in person. and texts only went so far.

So the job fell to Aurore. To talk (probably Marinette) Ladybug out of a Very, Stupendously, Inconceivably Bad Idea.

“You want to trust Robin—the kid who tried to kill you—to contact his mother—an assassin—to talk strategy about how to take down Hawkmoth’s civilian life’s business, not kill him, and trust that they won’t kill you?”

“…I’m bringing Chat with me.”

“Ladybug.”

“What, do you want me to use a Lucky Charm to prove this is our best bet?”

“You know what?” Miss Sting threw her hands up. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Fine.” Ladybug threw her yoyo skyward. “Lucky Charm!”

A red, spotted ball with an 8 on it came down.

“… you have got to be kidding me.”

Ladybug shrugged. “Uh, Magic Eightball, is it okay to trust Robin with this?”

One shake later and the floating die window read “Without a Doubt.”

“Give me that.” Miss Sting scowled, shaking as she asked. “Should she bring someone besides Chat and Robin—like someone from our team or Wonder Woman or Aquaman?”

The ball answered “Outlook not so good.”

Miss Sting glared at the magic eight ball. “I can’t believe this!”

Ladybug shrugged. “Lucky Charms are Lucky Charms—and I gotta go.”

Miss Sting checked her beeping spinning top. Someone was just akumatized.

“Re-charge first!” Miss Sting yelled before swinging ahead.

—-

“Oh, hey, when’s Demon Spawn going to contact us?” Jason asked as other bats calmed down.

“He’s not answering his communicator.” Bruce growled. “Hal took it earlier.”

The bats paused at that.

“Well then. Trackers?”

“Disabled—what? We didn’t need anyone crashing the apology and he ran off before I could stop him,” Dick defended. He is not Damian’s keeper. Just his Batman (as yes Bruce, he is Damian’s Batman and Damian is his Robin. Current masks not-withstanding).

“Then how are we supposed to find him?” Stephanie asked as the room grew uneasy.

No one answered that.

“How’s this,” Tim began. “Me, Steph and Cass agreed on who Hawkmoth probably is, each of us has a different set of evidence for it—and I’m counting breaking into his evil Liar and the cameras catching him mid-act a few minutes ago as absolute proof.”

“I’m sorry, you did what!” Stephanie leaned over Tim’s shoulder to see. “Oh shit. Isn’t that guy—”

“One of her friends? According to their private Instagram accounts, more like partner in crime and possible Chat Noir. I mean, he’s the one that calls her his “everyday Ladybug” and voices Chat Noir in everything." Tim answered idly. “My money’s on him not knowing at all.”

Bruce twitched. Then began to add ‘stalking social media feeds’ to his to-do list tonight.

“So,” Tim stepped forward. “I suggest we send this to the Wonder Woman and ask for Robin’s comm to be returned, and failing that, I bugged the video so anything they play it on, we get access to its IP and can find where they are.”

“Have Oracle go over the bug, just in case,” Bruce told them. “In the mean time, the rest of you suit up for the night. Gotham needs its vigilantes.”

—-

Marinette wanted to go on the record that her plan (to keep the bats away) was going well. Deciding what to do with Mu—R—Damian. Damian. Damian and his offer, was a challenge.

For obvious reasons, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman and Aquaman were against her asking a bunch of assassins for their help. Chat has more than a few reservations. Carapace, Rena and Miss Sting gave her looks for that plan.

But.

But it would work. She needs more information on how to make the plan burning in the back of her mind work. It’s a lot of chaos (and she may thrive in chaotic battles but this wasn’t her usual battlefield, and her team didn’t know who they were going up against for once). And Marinette? She needs to know its not just her doing this when its so out of her depths.

So despite literally everyone and their disagreements she had Chat on her right side with Damian on her left, meeting up with his Crazy, Semi-Immortal mother. And possibly his Immortal, former Black Cat candidate, grandfather.

Why?

As Marinette isn’t trusting the likely cult that makes up the Gotham Ghost Gang (Batfam if you like them) when she can get real advice and vague directions to immortal and allied (loyal and terrifying) assassins.

And yes, she wasn’t sure if Liar was wrong or right when they said it was a bad idea too.

But fuckit she’s already got Kaalki at her shoulder, looking a bit bored at the deserted rooftop that Kaalki chose for their meeting.

“داميان*,” the woman smiled at her son. “It’s good to see you.”

“Mother,” Robin greeted. “This is Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug wished to speak to you about potential strategies to take down an enemy outside of battle without violence,” Damian stressed.

“I am well-aware of the Kwami and their Chosen, اِبْن.**” The woman spoke calmly. “The League of Assassins formed to act as the Black Cat to restore the world to balance and un-burden the Order with its maintenance.” The woman offer Ladybug her hand. “I am Talia al Ghul, and I am at your service, with or without violence Ladybug.”

Marinette took her hand. “Thank you Talia. Our target being directly exposed like I planned would have…” Ladybug trailed off, thinking over the ramifications not only to Adrien, but to the whole of Gabriel’s brand, workers and all that worked with them. “Some intense ramifications I’d rather avoid.”

Talia nodded her head, waiting for more information.

“I believe its possible to topple them without affecting their employees by uncoupling them from their business, but doing so is, well, stocks and economics isn’t my strongest point.” Ladybug admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I would suggest,” Talia began, “to create a bit of chaos in the stock market. Perhaps a rumor here and there, let investors pull out and grab the abandoned stocks quickly. Consolidate them under one owner and become the company’s owner.”

Marinette twitched a bit at that. “That… sounds complicated.”

“Oh, but it isn’t. My son knows just how to that, or did you forget our lessons?” Talia asked coolly.

Damian twitched at Marinette’s side. “I did not.”

“You know,” Chat chimed in. “I do know a few things about those things. If its general chaos, well…” Chat’s face twisted in a way Marinette forgot he could do after that Chat Blanc episode.

“… I will take that into consideration.”

“Anything else?” Talia asked, watching Ladybug and her son. Specifically, how her son seemed glued to the girl’s side. “I am certain my son is able to take out your target, if all else fails.”

Damian scowled at Marinette’s side.

“However, I do believe that whatever is happening, whatever has you active, might require a more… experience hand.”

Damian brushed against her side. Code for ‘Possible Danger.’

“Thank you for the offer,” Chat moved in front of Marinette. “But mi’lady and the Guardians have that much handled.”

Talia’s eyes shifted from Chat to Ladybug, staying on her. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I merely needed more information on how to execute this type of plan, that’s all!” Ladybug almost, almost slipped into Marinette while Liar, while silenced for the moment, prodded the back of her mind. “I want to minimize collateral damage as much as I can, to everyone. The kwami already said they get to chose the target’s punishment.”

“Ah, I see.” Talia relaxed then. “You are following the kwami’s wishes. I will respect their wishes as well, Chosen.”

Marinette categorized this interaction as one of the “not too horrible, but will avoid a repeat” once they left.

—

*Damian in arabic

**son

so we have Talia now as a Player, sort of. she plays by her word pretty well so hopefully its a cameo more than anything else.

any ideas on how JL will handle the video, and if Miraculous Team should see it and freak out or only LB and keep on the dl while JL assissts in her Chaos Plot?

End of update. Will have to repost from ao3 on my phone now as desktop tumblr is being exceptionally rude. Tags always open, just takes me a bit to do—sorry to vixen for vanishing from tags

TAGS:  @heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang @dreamykitty25 @emu-lumberjack @vixen-uchiha

[bigskydreaming]

Making this its own post because replying to the ask got so weirdly formatted I can’t even. Oh tumblr. You work so well.

@themessofthecentury  asked:

jsksjf my tumblr notifs are bugging and i didnt see your post but!!! The patron Saint of Robins?? I am much intrigue!!

(This is from this ask game, just....gotten to late, lololol. And I still have more I’m getting to, no worries. Just had a rough couple days is all, laid me up a bit.)

Okay, so The Patron Saint of Robins is kinda like the situation at the end of Grayson, except also not at all. And actually this is one of my older WIPs, and according to Scrivener I started it in 2015 afhislfhalhfalf, so it really has nothing to do with that. Also, its Young Justice-verse, but for two specific reasons:

1) YJ-verse is my go-to for Good Dad Bruce Wayne, when I don’t want to actually tackle the issues I have with his and his kids’ dynamic in comic book canon. I don’t carry over things like the adoption issue or the Robin succession into YJ fics, as I don’t think there’s anything that suggests they’re ever a specific issue in YJ and I don’t feel a need to make them one. So pretty much anything and everything I write in YJ goes with the backstory that Dick’s already adopted by Season One, and he’s the one to grant each later Robin permission to use the mantle, with no conflict over that, and more of a pre-Crisis transition to Nightwing than the post-Crisis firing from Robin. And this fic inherently needs Good Dad Bruce Wayne to work, lol.

2) I needed Klarion the Witch-Boy. Who of course exists in comic book canon, but is muuuuuch different there, and I just needed him to be a little demonic evil shithead, who sets everything in motion to get payback on the heroes for thwarting the Light in Season One, and he targets Robin due to being the oft-cited ‘first of the baby brat heroes’ and the ‘heart of the cape community.’

You don’t really need to be familiar with YJ canon at all for this one, as it goes sharply AU from after Season One, and only faintly and vaguely references specific events from that season. And I use my own YJ-ized version of the Titans as much as the actual YJ Team.

So basically, the plot of this one is to take revenge on the heroes for spoiling his game in Season One, Klarion plays a new game, by putting a chaos curse on Robin. It essentially erases him from peoples’ memories, though he’s perfectly able to make new ones. If he re-introduces himself to someone ask Dick Grayson, for instance, they don’t suddenly remember who Dick Grayson is or was, but they don’t forget about him again from that point onward, its like they meet him for the first time as a stranger.

But the curse part of things is only Batman can break it and restore everyone’s memories of Dick and his actual history, and only by identifying him for who he really is. And Dick can’t be part of breaking his own curse or else it seals it and makes it permanent and unbreakable forever.

Which of course leaves Dick completely miserable at first, understandably, and Bruce (and everyone else Dick knows, to varying different degrees) feeling some kind of loss but with no idea what it is they think or feel that they’re missing. Dick makes some half-hearted attempts at starting a new life for himself in Gotham, and in the process befriends a street kid named Jason Todd, though Dick introduces himself to Jason with just the name Robin.

The way the curse operates is it restitches together peoples’ memories to cover up the gaps where memories of him would go. So for instance, even though Jason never knew Dick before the curse, he was familiar with Batman and Robin just as much as any Gothammite was.....but due to the curse, the name Robin, upon meeting Dick, had no special meaning to him or anyone else. As far as he knew, Batman had always operated on his own in Gotham, the first teen superhero was that Speedy kid in Star City, etc. So when Jason first meets Dick, he just thinks he’s some dude whose name happens to be Robin.

Eventually, because Dick’s been kinda torturing himself by spying on Bruce just to ‘keep an eye on him’ and still watch his back, and he’s recognized by now that Bruce is mourning his loss without even knowing that he’s missing something....so Dick, who has also kinda come to see Jason as a little brother figure due to watching out for him as well....decides to kill two birds with one stone, unfortunate pun not intended. (Jason doesn’t die in this one, lol). Basically, Dick puts in motion the chain of events that lead Jason to stealing Batman’s tires, because he doesn’t know EXACTLY what Bruce will do but he knows it’ll get his attention in a big way and Bruce will take it from there.

One thing leads to another, Jason ends up living with Bruce and when eventually he wants to be trained by Bruce so he can do what he does and protect kids like he used to be.....when asked to pick a name....Jason names himself after the guy who always looked out for him, and who led to him being found by Bruce in the first place. He doesn’t know that his friend ‘Robin’ steered him towards those tires deliberately, just to bring him and Bruce into contact, but he does credit him with making the suggestion that ‘inadvertently’ (as far as he knows) enabled his and Bruce’s introduction, and so he names himself in honor of the boy who helped him and who he tried to track down again to similarly help, after Bruce adopted him, but was never able to find again.

Over the years, Dick also ends up steering Tim, Cass, Duke and Damian to Bruce in different ways than comic book canon (Steph and Babs’ debuts remain their own, as family adjacent but not family specifically) and thus is integral to the forming of the Batfam and has a connection with them even before the curse ultimately ends up broken and he’s able to reclaim his full identity. And each of them end up Robin at least briefly, like Steph is never Robin in this AU, and sticks with Spoiler, whereas Cass IS briefly Robin before becoming Batgirl after Babs. I did this for a few different reasons...

One, I really like that Cass is never Robin in main continuity as it creates a different dynamic between her and Dick than most of their siblings have, BUT I’ve always been curious to play around what Cass-as-Robin might even be like, just for an AU. Two, part of the Black Bat and Batgirl but never Robin sequence of mantles for Cass in the comic book continuity is like.....although it doesn’t get explored nearly enough, Babs was as much a kind of mother figure for Cass as Bruce was a father figure, despite Babs’ young age. So it makes more sense for Cass to stick more to just Bat-mantles than to ever be a Robin in the comic books. But in YJ, Babs is even younger, and just way too young to have the specific kind of dynamic that leads to that in the comic books, so its not as unreasonable IMO for her to have a different dynamic in her early days in the family here, before becoming closer with Babs and taking up the Batgirl mantle after she moves on to become Oracle.

And then also, and this is also the primary reason for making Duke a Robin briefly, before Damian is old enough....I got hung up on the title and it just didn’t work as well if it was Robins + Cass and Duke, lololol. See, in addition to helping steer the family into the points of introduction that make them a family, over the years he also acts as like, a guardian angel figure to the various family members, looking out for them and interceding in times of extreme danger, like when Jason is almost killed by the Joker. He’s always in disguise, but the kids eventually compare notes and realize there’s a singular figure behind each of their introductions to Bruce and the guy swooping out of nowhere to save their behinds whenever they’re most in danger, and Jason eventually connects this back to the guy who apparently NOT so coincidentally suggested he go after the Batmobile’s tires that fateful night, and the kids end up jokingly/not-so-jokingly referring to this figure as the Patron Saint of Robins. (Shout-out to the occasional mentions/allusions of Jason’s Catholicism).

They never tell Bruce about this figure (at least before Bruce starts to put together clues on his own), because they all figured out that for whatever reason, this person despite wanting them all to meet Bruce seems to want to avoid Bruce himself, and they kinda want to respect that as a kind of payback for his help, and also like....Bruce, even a kinder, gentler Bruce, is still Bruce. And when Bruce is gonna Bruce, that means Batparanoia. And all of them for various reasons DO trust that this guy has nothing but good intentions towards them, and so they don’t want to like....ruin or tarnish the positivity they associate with his intercession in their lives with paranoia or treating him like a bad guy. Which ultimately is really just smoke and mirrors for saying that he’s kinda a ‘just for them’ secret. Its a Robin thing.

(Until its not).

Because meanwhile, Dick, in between meeting the various Batfam members and pulling strings and looking out for them from the shadows, at first travels the world looking for ways to break his curse. But when ultimately its clear that the only way to break it is the loophole built into it already, Bruce identifying him for who he really is, but without Dick doing anything to steer him towards the answer, Dick settles into a new hero identity as Nightwing, and forms the Teen Titans, a public group of young superheroes (minus Roy and Wally, unfortunately, but still with Donna, Garth, Raven, Kory, ignoring season 3 Vic and also Terra because AU redemption arc what what, etc). And the Teen Titans avoid both the Young Justice Team and the Justlce League with EXTREME measures, much to the other heroes’ confusion and aggravation, because in the early days of the Titans, in a moment of what he’d term weakness, on one of his ‘bad days,’ Dick tells them enough of his story that they’re able to put together a good sense of what happened and who he really is by reading between the lines and what he leaves unsaid....

BUT as a result, all end up extremely committed to not mixing and mingling casually with the rest of the cape community because they don’t want to risk dropping any hints about the guy under Nightwing’s mask, in case that might count as steering Batman towards clues and seal the curse for good. So I have a lot of fun with having the Titans just nope out of the scene the second the bad guys are defeated even when they have to team up with other heroes, leaving the other heroes confused as hell and trying not to be all ‘WHY DON’T YOU LIKE US??”

Anyway, so yeah, that’s the gist of this one, lol. With it of course following the eventual plot that like...the Batfam starts to Detect and put things together.

ANYWHO!

Snippet

Damian versus Klarion: Round One

“Aww, its adorable that you think you’re in my league,” the Witch-Boy cooed in an absolute mockery of sympathy. Damian bristled, but before he could do anything more than that, he was faced with a much more pressing matter as reality completely lost its mind.

The walls of the cavern fell away in an instant, only to be replaced with a whirling dervish of winds all around them, as if they now stood in the center of a cyclone that bled red and silver and black. It shrieked and wailed in a chorus of voices just on the other side of being comprehensible, a symphony of the damned that set every nerve in Damian’s body aflame with a primal instinct to get out, to find silence, to be anywhere but here.

He’d barely staggered a step backwards when the ground erupted beneath him, splitting apart into jagged obsidian shards that bobbed precariously in the sea of magma barely glimpsed through cracks now spiderwebbing their way across the floor. Spears of lightning burst upwards through them, stabbing impossibly at the heavens rather than raining down from them. They hissed and crackled as they flickered like forked serpent tongues of electric violet and black. The forks becoming branches, the pillars of sky-shattering light transforming into the trunks of great trees that grew upwards and outward, weaving a canopy overhead. One that wept violently red leaves that fell gently to the ground, only to hiss and bubble like acid once they did.

“See, normally this is when I’d hit someone with a little razzle-dazzle like this,” Klarion called out over the song of madness he’d created, as it crooned and careened wildly all around them. He snapped his fingers, and in the span of a second it all ceased. Reality reaffirmed itself, and all was right with the world once more…except now the two of them stood at the end of a hallway in Wayne Manor.

Damian stumbled, the sudden reappearance of firm ground paradoxically being the thing to challenge his balance. The demon boy standing beside him crooked his thumb and forefinger in the semblance of a gun, the smile pasted across his face one of wickedly gleeful malice.

“But you, kiddo, you’re special. Cuz there’s nothing I could do to you now that could top what I’ve already done, so why try when I can just savor the moment instead?”

“What are you babbling about?” Damian demanded roughly. In the wake of what the Witch-Boy had just conjured up with nothing more than a gesture, he was keenly aware of how flimsy a shield his bravado made. He just had absolutely no idea what else to fall back on.

Klarion only threw back his head and laughed though, skipping merrily down the hall as he did.

“I know something you don’t know,” he sing-songed and Damian lost what little grasp of his patience he’d managed to hang onto.

“You overestimate my need for an answer. Attempt to intimidate me all you wish, but I have no desire to indulge your little game any further.”

Klarion jerked to a stop and spun around, his face screwed into a childish pout. He stomped his foot, petulance personified. “I’m not intimidating you anymore, I’m gloating! Ugh, you’re so stupid! They’re completely different, how can you not tell?”

Every light in the hallway flickered and fizzed abruptly. The walls wavered, bubbled, momentarily molten as if made of wax.

Again Damian was reminded just how mercurial this being he was faced with was, and how dangerous. Perhaps, as Father would say, this was not the time to indulge his own instinctive inclinations. Or as Todd would put it, just because you’re already fucked, that’s no reason to fuck yourself over more than you have to.

Crude as his older brother was, there was occasional merit to his…pithiness. Not that he would be admitting that any time soon, of course.

“Fine. What is it you wish to gloat about then?” Damian grated out. The appeasement, such as it was, tried its best to stick in his throat before finally clawing its way free. But at least it proved worth the effort when the godling’s mood reverted back to impishness as readily as with the flip of a switch.

“Well. Its like this, you see.” Klarion said. He dragged it out as he folded both legs underneath him to sit cross-legged in the air, plopping his head into his hands. “I did a baaaaaaaaaaaaad, bad thing to your family, a loooooong time ago. And none of you have done anything about it, because you don’t even know! Isn’t that funny? Doesn’t matter how big a hero Daddy Bats is if he doesn’t even know what needs saving huh? Little Catch-22 there, you might say.”

“Yes. Quite hysterical,” Damian said dryly. “So what is it you claim to have done then?”

The Witch-Boy just sat there, regarding him with amusement, and the seconds marched on into minutes. Damian’s skin crawled. Prickling with impatience and possibly something…more. He wasn’t quite ready to name it anxiety or something as melodramatic as all that yet. In fact, he’d rather not put a name to it at all, but today did not appear to be a day for configuring things to his liking.  

Klarion’s wicked grin grew as if sensing his thoughts, though to the best of his knowledge (and Damian did quickly ransack the library of his memory just to be sure) there was no indication telepathy was included among the Chaos Lord’s many, many powers. And still that detestable smile stretched slowly wider all the same, in perfect synchronization with the rising tide of Damian’s unease. Perhaps the Witch-Boy’s file was in need of annotation.

“How many doors would you say are in this hallway?”

“What? Seven.” Damian snapped out his answer, annoyed by the non sequitur. Not to mention baffled. Was it too much to expect even a semblance of linear thought from the Chaos brat?

“Are you suuuuuuure?” The Witch-Boy stretched his query out obnoxiously. “Maybe you should count again. Just for kicks and giggles.”

Damian throttled back each and every retort attempting to spring to his lips, stuffing them back down and cramming a lid on everything he most dearly wished to say to this most vexing of…shitheads. Once again, it appeared as though nothing less than Todd’s preferred form of nomenclature would suffice. Wonderful. On top of everything else Damian had to deal with today, he seemed to be finding common ground with the man all over the place. Was there no end to the indignities he must suffer?

But marshaling his own formidable willpower, Damian took a deep breath and indulged the Chaos Lord, glancing his eyes down the length of the hallway and counting out each doorway one by one. There was his own room of course, with Cassandra’s to the right of his, and the room Brown used when staying over to the right of hers. That was three. Then there was Thomas directly across from his own room, with Drake to his right and Todd just beyond that, with Father’s room at the very end of the hall, his master suite staggered and with no direct opposite like the others. Seven.

Except all of a sudden there was a door directly opposite his father’s. For a total of eight.

Damian’s brow furrowed in consternation. The faint whispers of uncertainty already seeded throughout him bore fruit, ripening into poisonous stabbings of doubt.

“That’s not real,” he stated with as much conviction as he could muster.

The Witch-Boy’s smile only grew wider still. “Isn’t it, though?”

“There’s never been a door there before,” Damian persisted, striding confidently down the hall towards it. The Chaos Lord flitted ahead of him, inverting til he was upside down and skipping merrily once more, though this time from the ceiling.

“Or has it been there all along?” He sing-songed some more.

“I would think we might have noticed if it had been,” Damian growled.

“Yes, you’d think, wouldn’t you? You are all supposed to be a family of detectives, I thought. Makes you wonder…if you could miss this, what else might you have failed to notice?”

Damian snarled to himself and did his best to shut out the demon boy’s prattling. He quickened his strides, eating up the length of the hallway in his haste to reach its end. He wasn’t sure what opening the door would prove, let alone what bewilderment the godling had conjured on its other side, but it appeared the only end to this game of his was through it, so let there be an end to it already.

And yet, for all his certainty - or best facsimile of it - he couldn’t help but pause once he reached the door in question. His hand hovered within reach of its brass knob, but some instinct, some…caution, held him at bay. As much as he wanted to dismiss all this as just one more of the Chaos Lord’s inane charades, there was a tension in the air that felt too weighty to be the product of just magical conjuring. Something more was in play here. Real forces were at work. His father might disdain magic, but Damian had been around enough of it himself to know when true power had been raised. And the span of empty space between his hand and this hither-to-unseen doorknob held more of it than Damian had felt throughout all the mad warpings Klarion had made of reality thus far.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Klarion asked from somewhere overhead. His voice, usually pitched to carry, was so soft for a moment Damian mistook it for his own inner doubts. “Some doors are easier to open than to close again, you know.”

Even knowing the goading for what it was couldn’t stop Damian then, and with a simple breath to fortify himself, he reached for the knob, spun it once, and shoved the door open all in a single sharp movement.

The Witch-Boy giggled up above.

The door swung wide, a forceful arc that should have revealed anything and everything within it all at once; the better to react quickly to whatever that might be. Fine in principle, perfect in execution, but thwarted by one small detail:

There was nothing on the other side.

And not in the sense of it being just an empty room, but true nothingness. A pitch-black abyss darker than the deepest night, yawning forth from the doorway in a vast, impenetrable shroud. Nor was anything hidden in the darkness, Damian knew, even if just intuitively. He could feel it, that he stood on the edge of an impossible cliff, that there was nothing beyond this threshold but an aching chasm of emptiness and loss. The surety of it hung in the air, thick and heavy, a miasma that seeped through to his side of the doorway and clung to him like the moisture of a fog beads upon the skin.

Klarion’s head suddenly popped up alongside him, hovering just over his shoulder.

Albeit still upside down.

“Well that doesn’t seem right,” he mused, tapping at his lips with a forefinger. “What do you suppose is meant to be in there?”

The last of Damian’s brittle patience shattered.

“Enough! What is the meaning of all this, demon? Speak plainly, for once in your miserable existence!”

His self-preservation instincts and the reminder of just who it was he was shouting at kicked in too little too late, but he wouldn’t take his exasperated fury back even if he could. He was who he was after all. But fortunately, that described the Witch-Boy just as accurately, and rather take offense or perceive any actual threat from Damian’s rage, the Chaos Lord just shrieked with laughter and sprung backwards. He flipped right side up, still hovering in mid-air, and clapped his hands with glee.

“Oh, I should have done this ages ago,” Klarion sang out. “Why, you’re almost as fun as he used to be. Back before he got all droll and serious, that is. He’s no fun at all anymore, nothing like this. Never wants to play, always just running back to his tower with that little bitch of a demoness.”

His face soured like he’d just sucked on a lemon. But rather than stop there, his countenance kept morphing into an increasingly savage scowl, the longer he ranted. The hallway was suddenly sweltering, baking with unseen heat that twisted the air into shimmering ribbons. The small horns sprouting from his forehead burst into scimitars of flame that cut through those ribbons and set them similarly ablaze.

“Always putting on airs like she’s some kind of royalty, just because her Daddy Dearest put the fear into a few peasants back in the day,” the Witch-Boy snarled viciously. “As if that’s enough to put her on par with the likes of me. No one is the likes of me. NO ONE!”

Reality itself quaked with the force of his shout. White-blue flames spat forth and crescendoed down the length of the corridor, splashing against its walls and searing them to a crisp. Damian braced himself for all the good it would do, keenly aware of the void still gaping hungrily behind his back, but before the fire could become an actual danger to him as well, all was quiet once more.

Silence hung in the air much like the demon boy, poised yet motionless. Suspended. Waiting.

And then Klarion simply inhaled and brushed his hands down the front of his garments, smoothing out the wrinkles as he reclaimed his calm. The corridor restored itself to its former self, curtains of vintage reality unrolling from the ceiling to the floor as though papering over the damage. Damian felt rather than saw when the portal behind him swung shut and was replaced with the expanse of ivory paint and ornate sconces he was used to seeing in its place.

“I am one of a kind, after all,” Klarion finally remarked. It was a casual drawl offered forth almost off-handedly, as if more a reminder to himself than uttered for anyone else’s sake. He used one hand to spell out letters in the air. They appeared and vanished again in bursts of fireworks and fluorescent flame. “U-N-I-Q-U-E.”

“As I, apparently, am not,” Damian said, seizing upon the Chaos Lord’s restored calm and good cheer. “Who is this ‘he’ you mentioned? If I’m to be pitted against him as entertainment in your eyes, might I at least know his name?”

“Nuh-uh-uh,” the Witch-Boy scolded. He wagged his finger at Damian. “No spoilers. That’s not how the game is played.”

Keenly aware of the boy’s power once more, Damian gritted his teeth and pressed on. “Well, if there are to be rules, shouldn’t I at least know what those are?”

Klarion sucked in a deep breath, drawing himself up along with his inhalation as though preparing for some great speech…and instead just toppling backward, flopping onto an extravagant fainting couch that suddenly appeared beneath him, though similarly floating in the air.

“I can’t recall at the moment.” His now-faint voice drifted up from where he lay buried amid a mountain of pillows. “I’ve had a terribly exhausting day. But you’re supposed to be a detective, remember? Go…I don’t know. Detect things.”

He flapped an arm at Damian dismissively, and then crooked a finger into a twirling motion that set his divan to spinning in lazy circles.

“Isn’t life grand?” Klarion sighed fondly. “With all its twists and turns, its eddies and swirls. I mean, take the two of us. Scant hours ago, we were mortal enemies, and just look at us now.”

The Witch-Boy lazily rolled his head to the side as the couch drifted to bring him face-to-face with Damian. His lips spread wide in that malevolent, wicked grin of his once again, but somehow it managed to be even wider than any he’d shown off before. His eyes blazed with a hellish inner light, and his voice, when next he spoke, dropped deep into a demonic register. A bass that boomed forth and set Damian’s very bones to rattling.

“Ain’t we got fun?”

[transrobins]

Some headcanons about the Bats’ natural capacities for empathy, and how that comes out in their work. Under the cut for length

1. Dick has a naturally high capacity for empathy and often finds himself in the role of the Wayne Family Therapist, partially because he has the easiest time understanding everyone’s feelings. He finds it easy to see things from others’ perspectives, and that makes it easier for him to problem solve. This is also why he’s so effective as Damian’s guardian/mentor. Damian inherited Bruce’s allergy to processing and expressing emotions in a healthy and constructive manner (and all the childhood trauma didn’t help either), so he needed someone who could see past all his shit and understand where he’s coming from

Dick channels his empathy into a high level of compassion, and tends to forgive people on the basis that he understands why they did the things they did. Sometimes this is good, sometimes it is Not. However, Dick’s high empathy also makes it easier to read people, and subsequently charm them. This is helpful not only in vigilante work, but in Gotham’s high society

2. Jason also has naturally high empathy, and tends to gravitate toward the role of a protector. As the Red Hood, he’s a fierce guardian of Gotham’s downtrodden. He grew up in Crime Alley, he’s been where these people are, and he can’t help but feel their pain. But it’s not just them that he can get into the heads of. He understands Bruce to a level that even Bruce himself doesn’t. He can’t stop it, even if he would prefer to never think about it at all (especially since Bruce can’t seem to understand him the same way)

Jason channels his empathy into rage. He has no problem using violence as a means of protection, because being able to feel others’ pain makes him so viscerally angry

3. Tim has naturally low empathy. He grew up incredibly isolated and has a hard time reading social cues and understanding others, but his genius-level intelligence makes him much more equipped to analyze people’s behavior and figure them out. He has little trouble distancing himself from the horrors of what he sees, and compartmentalization is second nature to him. He can distance himself from emotions well enough to create contingency plans for the people closest to him thanks Bruce, and fails to realize how that would be hurtful (Dick points this out when Tim says he didn’t think Damian would care)

However, Tim is still very compassionate, he just approaches it in a more logical way. He sought out Batman because he could see him running himself into the ground after Jason’s death, and knew that he was going to get himself killed. He couldn’t understand the pain of losing a child, but he could tell that Bruce was in pain, and went about trying to fix it the only way he knew how. Having Robin by his side made Batman better, so clearly he needs a new Robin

4. Damian has naturally low empathy, but I would say he has a higher capacity for it than Tim. He has the easiest time relating to and interacting with animals, mostly because people confuse him. This was especially hard when he was transitioning from the League of Shadows to the Bats. With the League he knew the score. He knew what was expected of him, and he knew what would happen if he failed. When he joins the Bats, he has no idea what these people want from him. His old rules don’t seem to apply anymore, and he can’t get a good enough read on them to figure out what the new rules are (enter Dick and his years of experience sorting out Wayne family emotional issues)

When he was with the League, his low capacity for empathy was capitalized on in his training. He was manipulated into believing that the reason he couldn’t figure out other people’s emotions was simply because he was better than them, just so he’d have no problem killing them. It takes a lot of work for him to unlearn that (and everything else the League taught him), and caring for his pets is a huge part of that. Since he has an easier time relating to animals, looking after them taught him about having a responsibility to other living beings and bridged the gap for him to start valuing other people as individuals

Once he’s made that progress, he operates with a logic-based compassion similar to Tim’s. He sees a person in need, knows he can help them, and then does so. He knows why it’s important, and does it because he knows these people are in pain even though he can’t feel that pain with them

5. Bruce doesn’t have particularly high or low empathy, but being raised as an isolated rich kid had a big impact on the way he relates to others. It’s not that he just naturally has a hard time getting into other people's heads, it’s that he’s so detached from everyone else. He’s detached from most of Gotham due to his privileged upbringing, but his early childhood trauma and isolation distanced him from the elites as well

This leads to his view of himself as Gotham’s guardian. He sees himself as, essential, an impartial party to all of this. It definitely impacts his relationships with his kids, since he only really understands the parts of them he sees in himself (Dick as a child who watched his parents die, Tim as an isolated rich kid, etc). This type of understanding extends to the rest of Gotham, too. He understands the people who have lost things to crime and corruption the way he lost his parents, and he understands people who are driven toward justice because of it. Like Dick, however, he doesn’t always know where to draw the line. To him, the Joker killing because he’s “clinically insane” ugh and Jason killing because he can’t handle the pain of Gotham’s people are more or less on the same level, and he tries to give them both equal opportunity to redeem themselves 

Cass canonically has extremely high empathy. She can understand people’s emotions even when she can’t process their words, and body language is literally her first language. Other people have a much harder time understanding her than she does them, simply due to the communication barrier, but her high empathy helps bridge that gap for her

When David Cain makes her kill, and she realizes what really happened, she is devastated. She essentially felt the man die. This pain drives her to escape, and eventually drives her to join the Bats. Her empathy still extends to the bad guys, and she’s had to learn how to separate herself from the (necessary) pain she inflicts. She has to tone down (or even shut off) her compassion for them in order to protect herself

[vikingpoteto]

27, 9, pick any two bats

 To no one’s surprise I pick Jason and Tim + cleaning wounds + “Listen, I know it’s hard, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Red Robin looks around his kitchen and tries to list 5 things he can see. The pictures of his friends held by magnets on the fridge. The pile of dirty mugs in the sink. The unread papers spread on the table. The closed window. The trail of blood leading to the counter where he’s sitting. He makes a mental note to clean that up in the morning. Before that train of thought leads him somewhere else, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 4 things he can touch now. The leather of his cowl that he slowly peels away. The cold surface of the counter. The hard wall behind his back. The needle between his fingers. Another deep breath. 3 things he can hear. The clock ticking against the loud silence. Traffic and distant sirens. His mildly ragged breath. He opens his eyes, hoping he doesn’t have any cracked ribs. Another deep breath. He can smell antiseptic and also something coppery. He licks his lips. The one thing he can taste is the bitter pang from the antibiotics he took. 

Tim Drake glares at the needle. This isn’t the first time he had to stitch himself up. This isn’t the first time he had to take care of his own wounds. 

However, this is the first time he’s the one and only responsible for it. 

In another life, he would do a patch job, emergency stuff only, and then get to Alfred as soon as he could for a double check. In a time that felt like a dream now, he would have the latest health tech available and Cissie hovering over his bed while Cassie fussed about how he irresponsibly hurt himself, Bart made a joke out of everything and Conner, of all people, would be the one getting Tim proper care. Less than a month ago, the most deadly organization of the world was making sure Tim was getting the best care available. While his trembling fingers put the thread in the needle, he thinks of the almost healed scar from a damn splenectomy. He doesn’t know what Ra’s people had done to him, but he’s been recovering unnaturally fast, especially considering his immunity. 

Tim bites his tongue and looks down at his battered outfit. He could go to Leslie’s clinic. But it’d be stupid to go all the way there for a couple of bruises and a wound that would probably take less than five stitches. Tim could go to the cave, but… No. He puts the needle down and starts pulling his shirt out. He can’t completely muffle a pained groan and he hates the way it echoes in his empty kitchen. It’s been less than a week since he left Dick, Alfred and Damian. He’s an emancipated adult by all means. Bruce trained him to be independent. He can do this. 

Except… as soon as he reaches for the antiseptic, he hears a noise coming from the living room. Tim freezes. You’ve got to be kidding me. Of all the nights to have a robber breaking into his apartment, tonight? Did it have to be tonight? 

Painstakingly, he jumps to the floor and reaches for his staff. He has half a mind to get his cowl, but he thinks Tim Drake defending himself with what could’ve been a broomstick is easier to explain than Red Robin just hanging out at his place. If he’s lucky - and, after tonight, he feels like the universe owes him - he’ll knock out the robber before they see him. 

The most ridiculous thing about all this is that he feels like crying. He doesn’t know why. He barely remembers the last time he cried. Probably right before he realized Bruce could be alive. As much as he’s in pain now, this is no reason to cry like a baby. Especially not in front of a robber. 

Tim silently hides by the side of the fridge and listens. The person in his living room is good. He can barely hear their steps. He can tell there is only one of them, however, and, judging by the way the sound become louder, they’re coming towards the kitchen. Partly to focus on his hearing, partly to ignore the way his eyes are glazing over, he closes his eyes, listens and waits. He waits. He waits a little more.

Ignoring the way his muscles ache in protest, he swirls around and aims for the gut, hoping to knock the air out of the robber. Gloved hands grab his staff and the invader takes a step back before recovering his balance.

“Woah,” he says in a familiar voice, “easy there.”

Tim raises his gaze to face him. Red Hood lets go of the staff in order to remove the helmet, revealing Jason Todd’s frown. Tim feels his shoulders slumping.

“What the fuck, Jason?” Tim hisses. He feels his voice will break if he tries to speak up. 

“I should be the one asking that.” Jason puts his helmet aside. He takes one second glancing around until he finds Tim’s medical supplies. “Is this sanitary? Shouldn’t you be doing first aid in your high tech basement?”

He should. It would’ve been more practical than getting the whole first aid kit and bringing it up here. However, using his medical bay for the first time… It would make it all too real. Too definitive. Tim can’t tell Jason that.

“Medical bay isn’t finished. Kitchen or bathroom were my best options,” he lies.

“Hm,” Jason says as though he doesn’t believe him.

Tim could lie to Batman if he needed to, but, for some reason, Jason seems to always know the truth.

Without another word, Jason takes off his gloves and leather jacket. He drops them aside and walks to the sink. Tim doesn’t ask Jason how he knows where Tim lives - he won’t insult Jason’s detective abilities like that - but he does frown at the older boy as he strides through Tim’s kitchen like he owns the place. 

In fact, Tim doesn’t want to ask anything. He wants to scream at Jason to go away. He wants to lie down on the cold floor and not move for days. It’s comical in a twisted way that Tim had been just thinking longinly about the time in which he wasn’t alone, and, now that he has company, he wants nothing but to go back in time and hide inside the cupboard until Jason goes away. 

“What are you doing?” Tim croaks. 

“Washing my hands,” Jason says simply. He turns to Tim and waves at him to come closer.

It’s a testament to how miserable Tim feels that he does it without questioning. Jason arches an eyebrow at him and points at the counter where Tim had been sitting not long ago. Tim doesn’t move, even as Jason wipes his hands dry with paper towels and reaches for the hand sanitizer in Tim’s medical kit. 

“Jason,” Tim insists. “What are you doing?”

Jason sighs. “One of my guys told me this new vigilante, this Red Robin guy, took an ugly beating near the harbor while he took down one of Sionis’ turfs.”

“It wasn’t an ugly beating,” Tim mumbles.

“Wasn’t it?” Jason asks, his voice dripping sarcasm. “Was it easy to fight fifteen guys at the same time, Superman? Did it feel wise to bring a freaking staff to a knife fight?”

“I won!” Tim says. 

“Yeah, and which victorious mighty hero is bloody and purple all over?” Jason barks. “Sit your ass down, Replacement!”

Tim flinches and… freaking hell, his eyes are stinging again, which is the most absurd thing ever. 

Jason sighs one more time, but this time he sounds… Well, annoyed isn’t quite the right word. He does sound somewhat irritated, but there is something else in his tone. Discomfort? Embarrassment?

“That’s not… Ugh, I’m sorry, alright?”

Except that’s actually worse. 

Moments ago, Tim wanted nothing but to be seen. It was pathetic. He wasn’t even that hurt and tonight hadn’t been special. It was just the first time he went out for patrol since he moved into his new apartment. He didn’t stop Poison Ivy, didn’t get into a scuffle with Harvey Dent. He just put away a bunch of low level henchmen even if he miscalculated how many of them would be there. Such a small feat, but there was a part of him that wanted someone to acknowledge that. To see all the bruises and bloody scabs, to pat him on the back and tell him he was great for how hard he was working.

How childish. 

Now that there is someone and he seems to be fully aware of Tim’s misery - enough to apologize for speaking a little too loud - Tim only feels small and stupid. He should’ve hidden it better, he shouldn’t be in this sorry state at all. 

The last time he saw Jason, they made amends. Just returned to Gotham after his mishaps with the League of Shadows, Tim found him to let him know he was aware that Red Hood was active again. Jason had said - albeit not in so many words - he lamented trying to kill Tim one year ago. Tim had told him it was water under the bridge by now and they agreed to work around each other, even if Jason still didn’t meet Dick eye to eye after last year. Then Tim had promised himself he would become strong like that. Jason had been through hell and back so many times and he always bounced back on his own. Why couldn’t Tim?

Maybe that’s why it felt like rubbing salt to the injury when Tim glares at Jason, the boy he was supposed to replace, the man whose shoes were too big for Tim to fill, and Tim’s vision is blurry with tears and his voice is overflowing with frustration when he asks yet again:

“What are you doing here?”

Jason meets his gaze. His brown eyes show clear unease, but he doesn’t look away. His brow is furrowed as though this is painful to admit, but he finally says:

“I heard you were probably hurt like that,” Jason gestures at Tim’s bare torso. “I knew you weren’t going to the cave for aid, so I brought the aid to you.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because if it were me, I wouldn’t go there either,” he states simply.

Tim bites his lip. “You dealt with your wounds alone after you came back.”

“Yes,” Jason says. He gestures at the counter again. This time, Tim sits. “I know it sucks. You ever tried stitching your own back? It’s really fucking hard.”

Tim looks down and doesn’t say anything. Jason brings a damp cotton ball to Tim’s wounds and stats methodically cleaning them. Tim doesn’t flinch, even when it really stings. Even when he feels like shame and guilt are all going to drown him.

“How did you do it?” Tim finally asks.

“The back stitches? A mirror and one of those grabby claw things, whatever they’re called…”

Tim glares at him. 

“So serious,” Jason complains. Then, in a calm voice, “I did it the same way you were doing before I got here. If I didn’t I’d die. Guess I wanted to keep living. You’d be impressed with the things people do when they have no other option.”

“You’re incredible,” Tim admits quietly. “I’m not like you. I’m not strong or… I gotta do this alone. I don’t know how.”

He doesn’t know why he’s saying out loud all the things he struggled to keep hidden for so fucking long. Jason doesn’t seem surprised with the confession though. He keeps calmly checking Tim’s injuries. 

“Not strong, huh? Which one of us took fifteen guys in a fight and won?”

“You know what I mean, Jason.”

“Yeah.” Jason grabs the needle Tim picked earlier and checks it before starting to work. “I know. Except you don’t gotta do anything, Timbers. And I don’t mean the vigilante thing. Fuck, I know none of us can quit this fucking life. We’re in too deep. I meant you’re not supposed to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. That’s what fucked up the old man. That’s how you lose yourself.”

“What’s that?” Tim scoffs. “You sound like a shrink.”

Jason looks up and smirks. “Maybe I have a shrink.”

Tim frowns. “Who?”

“Guess.”

“Jason.”

He chuckles. “Okay, so… I know it seems crazy, but she found me and asked me to join my crew in exchange for taking off this explosive thing that Amanda Waller put in her. And she’s crazy competent, so…”

“No,” Tim interrupts him. “You did not let Harley Quinn join your crew.”

“Actually, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy,” Jason has a shit eating grin even as he finishes his stitch job. “They’re a package deal. Ivy showed up a couple of days after Harley and I couldn’t get her to leave so…”

“You’re working with Harley Quinn and letting her give you therapy sessions,” Tim says. “Am I on a parallel Earth? Have those guys killed me and I’m hallucinating?”

“A lot changes in a year, Timbers, you’ve been gone for a while,” Jason shrugs. “People change too.”

“Not that much!” Tim protests. 

“Is that so? Then how come you gave me, what now, three, four second chances?” Jason glares at him.

That catches Tim off guard. He takes a moment to realize what he’s talking about. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Tim asks, genuinely confused.

“I came back, I tried to kill you. You let it go. I get arrested, you help me to break out. I thank you by losing it after seeing B’s clusterfuck of a testament. You come back like it was nothing and tell me you hope to do business in the future. And you think I’m insane for giving shelter to an abused lady?”

“I’m not saying you’re insane for helping her. I’m saying I wouldn’t trust her advice,” Tim corrects. “Besides I know what you’ve been through. I understand, even if the others don’t. You’re still a hero. Why wouldn’t I help you get back in the game?”

“Because I could hurt you again, you moron,” Jason frustratedly points out.

“You could also be helpful. I decided it was worth taking the chance,” Tim states.

“Yeah, you did,” Jason whispers, using the bandaging as an excuse to avoid Tim’s gaze. “You’re the best of us, Tim. I’m not letting you crash like I did so many times.”

Tim just stares, his lips parted in shock. 

That’s when he feels the dam breaking and tears finally start to stream freely down his cheeks. He sniffles and makes that horrible choked up sound of someone vainly trying not to cry. Jason keeps tending to his injuries even as Tim’s body shakes with barely contained sobs and Tim doesn’t know if he’s ignoring the meltdown out of mercy or because he simply doesn’t know how to deal with it. It’s probably both. 

By the time Jason finishes wrapping up Tim’s many scrapes and rubbing medicine on countless bruises, Tim has managed to contain his sobs and is gingerly trying to wipe his face and pretending he doesn’t feel like he almost drowned.

“Listen, I know it’s hard, Baby Bird,” Jason mutters, a tad awkwardly. “But I’m not going anywhere. It’s not just you against the world.”

“Then what, is it the two of us against it?” Tim tries to quip.

“Maybe,” Jason says. “You did a lot for me. It’s about time I start deserving it.”

“I didn’t do it because I wanted you to pay me back.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m here, dumbass,” Jason takes a step back. “I’m done. Go get changed into a pair of sweatpants or something. I’m gonna introduce you to the wonders of 2am cereal.”

Tim lets out a chuckle. “I’ve eaten cereal at 2am before, Jason.”

“Not mine, you haven’t. Chop, chop, kid, we don’t have all night.”

Tim listens to him. 

He should know better, after all he had experienced new beginnings before. All of them inevitably lead to crashing and burning, some rather spectacularly too.

However… There are a few firsts here. This is the first time someone truly understands. This is the first time Tim doesn’t feel like he’s entering a challenge, that he has to earn his place as Robin, as Young Justice’s leader. He feels like his place had been earned, like there’s a small beacon of hope after a long struggle. 

Tim lets himself accept it.

[nuclidic]

Given that a lot of us are stuck inside with all this COVID-19 stuff, do you have any good TimKon fic recommendations to keep us more happily occupied?

Haha yes! I have this list from years ago but it is way past time for an update.

Disclaimer: these are just things I like, please heed all tags and warnings etc. I'm also not reccing any WIPs because unfinished fics kill me every time.

Crystal Clear by Merit andAnd I'll Tell You No Lies by caecily

Two short takes on soulmate tropes that have to go first because I love them so much, I love soulmate aus, Tim and Kon are soulmates, the end.

Where There's a Wish by LeeayreBeing Robin’s vessel is hard enough: the exhaustion, the life-threatening late night activities, the bruises and bullet holes and broken bones. Trying to hide all that from his incredibly suspicious, incredibly hot new roommate while maintaining his studies and placating his parents? Tim has never had it so hard. Especially since said roommate doesn’t actually know he’s Superboy.

So the setup for this is unusual, I'm not sure if it's based on anything but: superhero identities are Personas, independent (basically magical) personalities created by the wishes of a person or groups of people who act through hosts that have the will to manifest whatever that persona does. Basically: Robin is an independent persona, Tim shares his body with him and when Robin manifests the costume and all the gadgets appear. It's explained throughout the story, but just in case you start it and are like wtf is happening. This possibly should go in the thirds section because the actual pairings in this are: Robin/Tim, Red Robin/Tim, Tim/Kon, Red Robin/Tim/Kon, Red Robin/Superboy, and Red Robin/Superboy/Tim. Red Robin can also be kind of dubconny so watch out for that if it's a concern.

Wing Beats in Reverse by firefrightJason Todd is the third Robin, not the second, growing up in shadow of Tim Drake's death. Despite this, he still manages to form strong bonds with his new family. Especially Damian, who wishes to atone for his past mistakes with Jason's predecessor. But when he's fifteen, a mysterious red hooded figure kidnaps Jason from the rooftops of Gotham, and after that his life will never be the same again.

A Robin reversal AU (ie Damian is the eldest, Dick the youngest) that's Jason-centric but of course that doesn't lessen the Tim angst. Or the Kon angst when he finds out Tim is alive. Hopeful ending, but it doesn't fix everything.Other pairings: JayRoy, StephCass (barely)

Time Flies by by LaroyenaJon Kent is Superboy. Tim's gut instinct tells him that's wrong.(Timkon fix-it where reboot!Tim misses Kon like a phantom limb. And then he gets him back.)

Sometimes you just need to cry over the lack of Kon in your life and this fic provides the PERFECT excuse. Heartbreaking and then happy. (Also brings Colin back UNLIKE DC.)Other pairings: implied Clex

Not Completely Powerless After All by ChimaeraKittenNobody was quite prepared for the kid who runs the company to visit, but they manage, in fact, they might be pleasantly surprised; they weren't expecting him to be nice. Of course, they weren't expecting him to be a possible ninja either, but you gotta take the good with the bad.

Outsider POV!!! I have never watched Powerless so you definitely don't need to be familiar with it, this is just a glorious casefic told by someone who doesn’t know it’s a case.

Matters of the Heart by DMWith Clark off-world as an ambassador to Earth, Conner has to watch over Metropolis. Though it should be straightforward, there appears to be something amiss with seemingly random crimes happening around the city. Conner has a hunch that they’re connected and calls in his best friend to help. But as the two of them spend time together working the case, Conner realizes that his feelings for Tim might not be what he had thought.

A long casefic with feelings, basically everything I ever want.

Stumbling Home by bewaretheboojumIn his mid-twenties, Tim moves back to Gotham City after several years living abroad. He's feeling adrift, unfocused and a little off balance as he tries to re-establish a life in his home town.Kon is a fireman by day and superhero by night. When mysterious fires start cropping up in Metropolis, all signs point to arson. Who better to help him get to the bottom of this arson case than Tim? And really, it seems like Tim could use the distraction...

Another casefic with older TimKon. I didn't like the initial setup with Tim having abandoned his friends for years but it won me over in the end.

the honesty in your body by LaroyenaLuthor's tech saved Kon's life at the cost of his mind. Tim must take a feral Kon across space to restore his humanity... which is just as difficult as one may think.(Batman Omegaverse AU: unabashed TimKon porn detailing their original get-together in their early teens to their definite get-together in their late teens. But mostly porn.)

Yep, this is mostly omegaverse porn and it's excellent and I love it, I really don't know what else to tell you.Other pairings: BruDick

I'm Alone Here, I Think by unluckylokiSuperboy is fighting robots in San Francisco and remembers something that wasn't.There's a new priest in the Naxos temple appointed by Dream of the Endless.Kon is missing something. Tim is missing everything.One day Krypto practically drags Superboy to a remote island in Europe and there's a dark haired guy smiling at Kon like he knows him.Maybe he does.

Sandman crossover but I haven't read Sandman in 500 years so you don't need to know most of it. Kind of identity porn, but more...fraught. Excellent Tim angst (there...might be a pattern here) and I'll be honest I'm not very into all the witches and stuff but overall very enjoyable.

Nowhere But Forward by MishaBerryIt shouldn't have happened the way it did.When Kon finds Tim in Paris, it leads to a night that neither of them will ever forget, for better or for worse. Tim is then forced to confront something he's been denying about himself for a very long time, and Kon begins to question some things about himself. The road ahead is full of twists and turns, but there's nowhere to go but forward.

I really love long fics, but tbh I found this started to drag a little towards the end. I still enjoy it overall with delicious Tim angst.

Plus One SectionSometimes when pickings are slim we can try food we wouldn't normally eat, and sometimes it's delicious. Which is to say these are fics with Tim/Kon/Another Person. Don't go any further if this upsets your OTP soul, I completely understand.

TimKonBartTroika by glitterandlubeThis is kind of written like crack and definitely won't appeal to everyone, but it's a fix-it of preboot where instead of living with the Kents in Smallville and becoming the country boy of Teen Titans (2003) Kon moves to Gotham and then scores with Tim and eventually Bart. Follows the previous canon's timeline almost to the start of Red Robin. Some (honestly warranted) bashing of Steph but also of Lois Lane (???).Also contains explicit Tim/Dick.Other pairings: Clex, JayDick

TimKonCassieTrymmetry by glymrWhy do they feel like something's missing?

Set in a universe where Kryptonians form triad soulbonds. Kon and Cassie have both always been thinking about Tim when they're together, and after Kon comes back they can no longer deny it. They have to find Tim. I wish this was ten times longer.

JayTimKon

Heart of the Hoard by firefrightJason is a knight on a mission to save a captive young woman from a cruel and vicious dragon. However, when Jason reaches the keep the girl is kept in, it quickly becomes clear that not all is as it seems with his quest. For starters, Lady Timothea is actually Lord Timothy, and - as Jason soon discovers - he's hardly a prisoner in his tower.

Perfect because Kon is an ACTUAL DRAGON though it does lean on his YJ cartoon characterization.

I (Don't) Want to Believe by chibinightowl and strikeyourcolors

FBI agents Tim Drake and Conner Kent are sent to Arkham Heights High School to investigate a series of unexplainable incidents that have both staff and students on edge. Tim's firmly of the opinion the school is haunted while Kon is positive the occurrences can be explained in a more reasonable manner. After all, he doesn't believe in ghosts.Right? Right?

Horror casefic where Tim had a previous thing with Jason but also a thing with Kon so sharing is the way to go, especially when you're more (or maybe just equally) concerned about being murdered by ghosts in a haunted former asylum.

Okay I am stopping now because otherwise I will continue forever. I hope this satisfies some hunger.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 11

Details, details, details. For someone looking like a pro-wrestler, complete with the dress-up gimmick, Jason Todd - the Red Ghost - turned out to be a very good listener and paid attention to details. He listened quietly as Oracle put out the proverbial lay of the land.

"So to make it clear and recorded redundantly, Talon was an enforcer with the Court of Owls; supposedly the entity that controlled all of Gotham, consisting of the 'builders' of Gotham as well as the 'money' that built Gotham. This guy Bane just out of the blue came to Gotham and killed the members of the Court and Talon's teammates. And now he claimed to be Dr Thomas Wayne's son, and therefore Bruce Wayne's half-brother." Jason recited. "Are the Waynes a member of the Court of Owls?"

"Not according to the database Talon gave us." Oracle replied. "Evidently, the Court had... harassed them to join, but they have repeatedly refused. And by 'repeatedly' I mean over like, three generations of Waynes."

"Yeah, I didn't think so, either. Talia wouldn't have... well, associated herself with Bruce Wayne, otherwise." Jason agreed. "Ra's didn't like to share control with a random group of people who have assassins as doormen. The public disruptions would have been too overwhelming."

"So the Waynes have made an actual tangible alliance with the Al Ghuls, I presume..." Tim commented. "Corporate-wise, the Al Ghuls owned almost half of Gotham, while the other half belonged to the Waynes. Yet they were in different lines of businesses that if the two families were to unite by means of - say, marriage - it would definitely fit the description of a monopoly."

"You're a corporate goon, aren't you?" Jason remarked. Tim preened a little.

"Kind of. I run a much-smaller family business." he admitted.

"I'm... not sure if I should consider it cool or horrific." Jason commented. "What's the business line?"

"Generic meds." Tim replied, and then stopped himself. There were a mere handful of generic medication companies in Gotham, and he might have given away his own identity.

"Ah, cool, then. Generic meds for poor people? Did you leech off the prices?" Still, Jason's disarming smirk and seemingly innocent questions were too inviting to not be answered.

"Of course not! I'm a hero, aren't I?" Tim replied coyly. Jason seemed satisfied with the answer.

"Cool, then. Anyway, to answer your question, yes, there were business deals between the Al Ghuls with the Waynes that are limited to the form of businesses either parties would do. And yes, you're right. If or when Bruce Wayne passed without any other heirs, Damian would own both conglomerations and would have been a form of monopoly. There were... contingency plans to avoid that." Jason elaborated. "But if Bane is a son of Thomas Wayne, he would have inherited half of the Wayne Enterprises, regardless."

"I sincerely hoped that Bane was not Ra's 'contingency plan'," Oracle intoned.

"I've never heard of his name until now." Jason clarified. "And I know all of Ra's associates and agents. Visible or otherwise. And Talia's. But for the issue with the Court... you people think that the Waynes bankrolled Bane to eliminate the Court of Owls."

"We suspect. We haven't found evidence to support or deny it." Oracle said. "You're quick."

"I'm not slow just because I came from Crime Alley, thanks." Jason retorted. "And I'm starting to realize... if I - on behalf of Damian - am staying at the Wayne Manor, I might be able to look for evidence thereof."

"Really quick, I wasn't even going to suggest that yet," Oracle replied glibly.

"And if they were innocent - because of course, we all believe in the 'Innocent 'til Proven Guilty' adage - then you can ally with the Waynes to indict and/or remove Bane out of the equation." Jason continued.

Well, Tim was impressed.

"That's it, in a nutshell."

"I hope you have a contingency plan in case your plan goes sideways..." Jason sighed.

"...you technically have nothing to lose," Tim assured him. "You'll have an escape, where you can bring Damian to a place that is both reinforced and semi-publicly visible; you'll have the Birds of Prey as your backup. And if - in a scenario where Bruce Wayne did not accept Damian, you'll still be welcomed here."

"Why? Just because I'm a Gothamite or what?" Jason challenged.

"Because..." Tim sighed. "Okay, look. I see it more as for Damian's sake, right? If he's accepted, and you don't want to help us, that's fine. We'll figure out something else. But if he's... denied his father..." he shook his head, pushing out the images of himself as a 12-year-old who'd just received the news of his parents' death. "...I know what it's like to lose a parent through violent means, alright. I don't... I'd rather Damian not take the path I took."

Jason's smile looked more like a snarl. "Now that's noble, Stray. You don't want Damian to be a thief like you, but you forgot who you're talking to. I grew up here, in Crime Alley, until my mom died. My dad was gone years before. I lived on the streets, had a box for a bed for weeks. That's the kind of life you won't want a ten-year-old to have to face."

Tim chuckled uneasily. "Okay, that's fair. But considering he's the only heir of the Algol Enterprises, I doubt he'll end up on the streets, am I wrong? Not to be insensitive, but there's a reason why Talia chose you to take care of him, and that wouldn't be the muscles or the pretty face."

That was a logical explanation, so Tim thought, but he could swear that Jason was blushing - even under the tanned skin. He shook his head lightly, and said, "No, I'm also his legal guardian unless his biological father files for custody; and am in charge of the Algol Enterprises," He scowled lightly. "...in spite of the fact that I don't like the corporate world in general. Damian is actually more than smart enough to supervise the companies, but he is still a minor. His signatures should always be accompanied by mine."

"Good system," Oracle commented. "I don't see you as someone easily persuaded if you don't believe in the matter."

"I believe in fairness and assisting those in need, not feeding those in power," Jason muttered. Then sighed. "For now, though, I'll need your help to fend off the League of Shadows. There won't be any steps taken toward your goal if Damian is assassinated."

"That, I believe, I can help. It's not gonna be pretty, but..." Dick remarked, stepping out of the bedrooms. "Boy's sleeping like a log. I mean, literally like a log: on his back, straight-backed and all." He added when Jason's eyes found his.

"You know how to contact your... uh... friends?" Tim tried, cringing, knowing how Barbara felt for violence.

"You thinking about rising the other talons?" Barbara must be cringing, too.

"Unless you can think of utilizing Superman or something, I don't see any other way..." Dick argued.

"Wait," an epiphany suddenly hit Tim. "I... hold up, let me think..." he raised a hand, stopping the questions he knew would be coming out of both Jason and Dick's mouths. A half a minute later, it hit him in the full picture. "Wasn't Green Arrow trained by the League of Assassins, too?"

"Oliver Queen, you mean. Yes, he was." Jason confirmed. "Funny dude, all sass and pretending to be no-brain. Shiva trained him--" Jason suddenly stopped.

"Does he know you?" Tim asked.

"He should... he got in just about a while after I did. I'd trained with him before Talia sent me training elsewhere..." Jason replied, and then his face brightened. "You scary-scheming little shit..."

"Green Arrow opted to use his skills as a hero, protecting those who can't protect himself. I know he's good - a little unfocused in a hand-to-hand and more reliant on his bow and arrows, but he's good." Tim pointed out. "And he has his own group of 'family' - all fighters for good. I'm sure he'll be happy to help us." he hinted to Oracle, deliberately pointing to Oracle as the decision-maker of the 'group'. With the way Dick was glaring at him, Tim knew that he was following Tim's hints - and not mentioning that Tim could have asked aunt Dinah for Oliver Queen's help. Dinah has been dating him for a good long while, after all.

"I'll put out feelers," Barbara stated. "Jason, do you have inklings or list on who we might want to chase after? You mentioned they're covert, and about half of the identity of people rounded up by the GCPD earlier were locals."

Jason shrugged helplessly. "They don't usually trust digital stuff for this... membership thingy. Not especially for foot soldiers."

"I think I can figure out how to sift them out..." Tim commented, ideas after ideas churning through his mind. "Want me to come over and powwow, O?"

"Yes, sure. That'll be great." Oracle replied, even with the metallic voice modulator, Tim could sense the relief.

"Okay, you wanna come with?" he asked Dick.

Dick shook his head. "Not that I'm guarding you or anything, 'cause I'm sure you can figure out how to get out without me noticing, anyway. But I'm... I'd prefer if the boy wakes up, he'll still see me, you know? So he's convinced that he's not... being abandoned or anything."

"That's sweet, but I agree. Do you mind, Jason?"

"Having another body to stand guard? Not at all. I'll need to shut my eyes for a few, anyway." Jason replied with a small smirk. "Would've been nice to shut-eye with a warm body next to me, but hey, beggars can't be choosers," he added blithely just as Tim got up and walked away.

Tim paused, turned, and blew him a kiss. Because that's what mama Selina said you should do when someone openly flirted with you if you also want to flirt with said someone. Jason's smirk just got bigger but didn't give any more reaction.

Tim continued his exit, his mind partially mapping out his plan to clean out the League of Assassins from Gotham; the other part mapping out his plan on to figure out if Jason was as compatible as he suspected.

[crypterion-moon]

Tiamat: Rise in Shadow p.1

Summary: His name used to be Tim, once Robin, then Red Robin, then everything just turned Red. Now he’s a shadow of the young man he used to be, not even a shadow. A monster with the face of Timothy Drake Jackson that loved to sleep with strangers and kill when it suited him.

But his time is coming and he must make his choices or be swallowed up by the past, not even his newfound family can save him from that.

Tags: Vampires, a bit of angst, supernatural

A/N: This chapter was written and not corrected, so apologies for the amateurish writing and typos but AO3 already has this so no point in trying to change anything now

Movement beside him, the bed suddenly bereft of a presence shifted Tiamareshka awake. Far too early for his taste. He cracked open one lazy eye and saw the light seeping through. He promptly shut it again. Any point in the day was too early for Tiamareshka , he had never claimed to be a morning person. Unluckily, the person next to him was and work was very important for humans in this society. The sounds of pants, shirts being pulled on, belt buckles being done and a clear thud of the hone on the dresser reached his ears, it felt refreshing to hear such domestic sounds. To not work and earn your living is a failure in the eyes of your mother and father, to not contribute to society is to be a burden. Nothing to do with Tiamareshka  though, he planned to laze around in the stranger's bed for while longer. At least until night falls again. He rolled over on his side, his arms curled up at his chest and facing the wall, he muttered something unintelligible, which comes out in a soft groan. The bed dipped again, this time Tiamareshka  could feel lips trailing and kissing their way down his body, from his curled shoulder along each rib, the blanket that covered the lower half of his body was lifted as the man planted a few soft, lingering pecks on his hip.

“Morning beautiful.”

Tiamareshka  let out a soft moan, just to tease, “Mmmm, don't you have work today?”

“I wish I didn't.”

Tiamareshka  smirked, his body curled up slightly more, raising his hips slightly higher for some more kisses which his partner for the night happily obliged, his hands stroking along his legs and slipping in between Tiamareshka 's pale thighs.

“Will I see you again sometime?”

Tiamareshka  hummed with approval, “Same place after dark.”

“Okay,” the man grinned nibbling playfully at Tiamareshka 's ear, “I'll see you soon.”

Tiamareshka  listened to the rustling of clothes, and the closet. He heard the man leave the room and pick up his keys for the bowl in the hallway, and the door clicked shut.

He thought about letting himself turn a bit, just some black smoke so he could return without having to physically get up and walk, his body ached deliciously though. Last night was fun and satisfying in one go, though the man was far too tender for his comfort. The idea was that it would just be a once off, non-committal thing where the two of them could have fun but it seemed more like this guy was looking for something more but wasn't aware of it. Tiamareshka  wriggled about under the covers and took in the scent that clung to the bedsheets, the scent of another human was so addictive. Such a sweet man but rather desperate and lonely, it would be a shame to kill him, even by accident.

The smell and presence of humans, was almost too much in the small space that was this seedy club, and Tiamareshka  loved it. He could taste the energy flowing and permeating the air. His hunting place, his one stop for a bit of fun and food.

The hip-hop trance mix that pulsed around the club was a bit on the obnoxious side but not totally intolerable, the laser light that swirled around the floor was quite irritating so he'd settled himself on the other end of the place where a warm light filled the bar and lounge area still in view of the dancefloor. If it wasn't such a popular place with good choices, he wouldn't even bother coming here.

Sitting at the bar, Tiamareshka  glanced over each face, searching for an acceptable companion for the night. As his eyes scoured over each face, they would sometimes meet with another and often, they would stare and blush. Unable to tear their eyes away, Tiamareshka  could send them the most devilish look and they'd quickly hide or look away in embarrassment. He'd know when they looked back at him when they thought he'd turned his gaze. People were so easily tempted even when he wasn't trying. Look in their direction in a certain way and it's hook, line and sinker.

It was so much fun fooling around with them, especially the dumb ones but only a few were worthwhile.

And tonight, the pretty lady in with the shiny jacket should make a nice meal.

Turns out she was quite well off, her apartment was well decorated and nothing displayed seemed to be on the fake or cheap side. A few glances around and it was apparent that she was actually a finance worker of a company, and not a very honest one at that, but at that moment, Tiamareshka  really couldn't care less.

She was healthy, energetic and indeed very full of life...as well as herself. Stupid woman, vain and overestimating, her body screamed for attention, for men to worship her because she deserved it. She'd put down and humiliated a lot of people for her own gain. Tiamareshka  had avoid looking any further or he'd be turned off by such a rotten soul. For now, he was hungry. 

One wild night proved fun though it left the woman almost completely drained but he always made sure not to let that happen, Tiamareshka  was careful about that. The consequences weren't pretty.

What he wasn't prepared for was the woman talking and making noises in her sleep, which irritated Tiamareshka  from sleeping that he had to leave the apartment complex. He slipped out through the window, leathery wings unfurling and soared noiselessly up towards the sky. Tendrils of black wispy smoke slithered out from beneath his skin and around his body, solidifying and materializing as clothing, conveniently. He smirked and he continued to soar over the city before settling on one of the buildings that had a nice domed tower to it, perfect for a resting place. It was annoying having to leave so soon. At least it was a beautiful moon night.

His breath ghosted in the chill air which blew softly across his skin as Tiamareshka  laid down on the metal. He stared up at the and watched the city moving and breathing angrily down below, Gotham was always such a miserable place. The embodiment of filth, probably no better than the city of Sodom though that may be exaggerating. It had a protector after all. He wasn't sure if it was the city that made Batman that grim icon or the other way around. Perhaps it was that vicious cycle. Tiamareshka  could remember the way Bruce moved, silent and imposing, promptly followed by a young boy in yellow, green and red, laughing at the world. With no pants.

Tiamareshka  smiled wryly. Thinking of Batman and Robin brought back so many memories, the good and bad, they both made his heart ache, what's left of it any way.

He turned over and tucked his wing against himself. He'll sleep them away, just for a little while before he moves on.

There's blood on his hands, on his face, in his mouth. Red all around him, pooling at his feet. But he isn't looking, it's his hands he can't tear his eyes away from. Tiamareshka 's hand, didn't look like a human's anymore. The fingers were long and protruding from them were long black claws and they were all red, saturated in warm liquid. It comforted him and horrified him at the same time, like coming out of a high. Not his blood, he looked up. Across from him were corpses, the dead, cooling bodies of his friends, the league and Dick?! Bruce!! Damian...oh god oh god, who did this? He looked around  and saw no one, no one else but him and...Jason.

But the man wasn't wearing a mad deranged smile like he remembered once, it was a look of horror and pure fear. His hands were clean.

Why was Jason looking at him like that?

Suddenly, the Red Hood turned away and walked, Tiamareshka  tried to get up and follow but he was stuck, unable to move. He called out to Jason.

“You monster.” 

Tiamareshka  woke up to the cool air rapidly warming as the sun rose up over the cityline. Damn, he didn't think he'd sleep the whole night away, it was dawn and he wasn't prepared to take on the full glare of the sun. He was lucky he didn't run into the bat, or the bird for that matter. That would be beyond awkward. He slinked away under the cover of the sun's shadow. He settled down again in his favourite spot, fatigue taking over again. He cursed internally at that damn dream, it always deprived him of rest no matter how long he tried to sleep. He suspected the longer he was in it, the worse it would make him feel and right now, he felt like he hadn't slept in three days. It reminded him so much of his sleepless vigilante days it was almost funny, almost.

“Tiamat.”

A voice whispered to him where he hid, sheltered from the sights of passers-by, high behind the golems of Gotham. Tiamareshka  stirred from his curled sleep, listening to the multitudes of voices hissing and sighing inaudibly in the background. The space before him twisted and warped with dark energy. Then a figure stepped out from the swirling mass and onto the stone. Greeting Tiamareshka  with a wide, crooked smile.

“Petrakar.” The boy responded with a half giggle, his coal black, tight suit rippled with his body. 

“Still fooling around? I know you were overly serious before but this takes the cake.”

Tiamareshka  snorted with contempt, he almost wished he'd ignored the sly bastard but he wasn't bothered with moving. Instead he let his tail answer for him, swatting at Petrakar with an impatient flick. Of course, it did nothing since he was only a mirage and it passed through his wispy form like it was just smoke, distorting Petrakar's image only briefly before it settled back in place.

“Someone's moody today.”

“Did you call just to annoy me?”

Petrakar sat down beside a curled up Tiamareshka  and reached over, brushing stray strands of hair from his face. As much of an illusion as it was, the boy still felt very real and right there, though his touch felt more like breaths than anything physical.

“You've been seeking out human comfort frequently as of late, have the nightmares returned?”

“...They have always been there, sometimes they're not as bad but then they get louder, clearer, like I'm living it all over again. It happened again last night, when I left early.”

Petrakar said nothing for a long time, the sound of their breaths drowned out in the city's hum. Tiamareshka  considered sleeping right here while he could feel Petrakar's presence. He could ask him to stay for a while while he rested but seeing as he wasn't truly here in the flesh, no doubt he was occupied. It pained Tiamareshka  to acknowledge how much he needed contact, companionship to chase those damn nightmares away. He felt weak and helpless against himself, he could feel that part of him mocking at him for such dependency, letting it slowly eat him away.

It was all his fault of course, your fault your failure murderer murderer demon monster, Jason can't even look at you now, not even Alfred.

Tiamareshka  gasped in shock, clutching at his breast in pain. Petrakar still at his side reacted accordingly prying Tiamareshka 's fingers from his chest and holding them.

“Stop, don't let it get to you again. Come on, Tiamareshka , stay with me.”

Can't here, can't see, only the thing inside trying to claw it's way back out, take over again. Your fault their fault unwanted, they abandoned you, it's only natural to make them pay, make you pay, watch the world burn, let's do it.

Look what they did to you.

“Look at me!”

Tiamareshka  was gasping for air, suddenly seeing Petrakar again. He wasn't aware of the tears in his eyes. All that act, all those disgusting nights with endless streams of face, voices, praises but he wasn't beautiful. He was damned. Trying to claw his way out of hell.

Petrakar looked at him with eyes that mirrored his, his suffering, Tiamareshka 's own pain, they all had suffered, had to so they could be together this way, but he, she told him he wasn't ready yet. When?

Petrakar leaned down and placed a tender kiss on his lips, breathing for a minute, “Something is coming your way, Tiamareshka , and it's nearly your time.”

Tiamareshka  sat up legs bent behind him as he searched for meaning behind those words, Petrakar's rust colored eyes gave nothing away, “I don't understand.”

“Thing's are going to change.” 

Tiamareshka  dipped his gaze, completely losing the mask and being that confused, over-analyzing boy he once was, serious and curious all at once. Robin, not Robin. Petrakar smiled a little sad smile and began to fade from sight, his ghost hands still caressing Tiamareshka 's face, “I hope for the better,” Tiamareshka  said.

“We all do.” 

[melyaliz]

Panic attack

anonymous: Hi I was wondering you could do a story about Bruce and the boys helping the mc with a panic attack only if request are open of course Thank u

(Oops so sorry to bother you but same anon who requested the batboys helping the reader with a panic attack here) I was wondering if I can be more specific I wanted the reader having a panic attack after remembering their traumatic experience of sexual assault ONLY if you're ok with it of course

Warning: references to sexual assault and panic attack. 

Fandom: DC 

Pairing: none 

Notes: I hope I did this justice. I made the Reader a Batsis because it just seemed to fit to me.

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

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

Triggers happen when you least expect them. It can be a touch, or a song sometimes even a smell. 

For you, it was a watch. 

You were helping a man up from an attack by Mr. Freeze’s men. One of Wayne’s enterprise’s workers. He had ended up falling down during the attack on the robotics lab. Poor guy had gotten turned around trying to grab his work on his way out and almost got his head blasted off by a gun if it wasn’t for you swooping in taking out the baddie. 

Turning around you held out your hand for him. Reaching up he took it his sleeve falling down slightly. That’s when you saw it, the gold watch. 

It glinted in the light of the red alarms lights for a moment. The shadows of the room casing seemed to close in for a moment, converging around you. 

You felt your chest close up the world tilting slightly, everything getting brighter and yet darker all at once. Taking a deep breath you helped him stand before pointing to the exit quickly moving away trying to get as far away from the man as possible. Heart pounding so fast you couldn’t’ breath. Your brain kept telling you that wasn’t him, that wasn’t the man that had hurt you. But your heart wouldn’t listen. The sound of the alarms filling your ears drowning out all logic. 

You couldn’t think, you felt like you were about to throw up. Curling to the floor you tried to make yourself as small as possible. Like back in those days. Tried to lock yourself up away.

Away from him.

Dick was the first the find you. You hadn’t responded to the team calling you over the headsets so he hunted you down fearing the worst. 

What he found was you very much alive wishing (to an extent) you weren’t. Curled up in a corner trying to breathe, trying to calm yourself down. 

Bruce and the others were not far behind Dick. Freeze already taken out. 

“Just breath Y/N” Tim said kneeling in front of you, “Whatever it is it’s gone now. Just breath.” 

You nodded focusing on his face. “It can’t hurt you,” Tim said taking deep breaths with you showing you how to do it. “We will keep it away. That’s it, deep breath in a deep breath out.” 

“If you can breathe that means your alive.” Dick whispered at your other side brushing your hair away from your face, “So just breath ok?” 

Nodding you continued to match your breaths with Tim’s. Your eyes flickering to Jason and Bruce who were standing behind their partners. Your eyes finding Bruce’s face expressionless as always. But you knew, you saw it. A flicker of true concern. Worry. 

What had happened. 

“Can you tell us what happened?” Dick whispered his voice gentle. 

“I…” You broke down again crying, words jumbled up through sobs. You honestly weren’t even sure if it made any sense but it was all you could get out. “I was young, I don’t remember his face but, he… he hurt me” 

You could feel Dick’s arms around you pulling you close while Tim rubbed your back. Once you had finally calmed yourself down you pulled away. 

“Sorry” you muttered gulping salty air through your lungs. 

“Don’t” Dick whispered helping you up. “We all have moments.” Jason, who had been silent through your breakdown nodded holding a hand out before pulling you in for a hug kissing the top of your head. 

You turned, noticing Bruce standing next to his batteam. Nodding he slowly started leading them out of the building “Let’s go,”

“We’re going to take him down right?” Jason asked Bruce once they got home. You were curled up on the couch with Tim watching a silly movie with a warm drink courtesy of Alfred. “Find that guy and kill him.” 

Bruce shook his head looking into the living room where you were giggling lightly at the screen, “No, we are going to be there for our family member.”  slowly he walked into the room, “And then we are going to take him down.” 

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[incoherentbabblings]

First Date (3/9)

Tim has one more test to pass before Bruce will allow him out as Robin. Like Dick and Jason before him, he has to avoid being caught by Batman for one night. He has already failed once, and is determined to succeed this time. Determination which might not count for much when Stephanie Brown is on the run from the mob. Her mother kidnapped as a way to threaten her father, Stephanie manages to escape and run into Tim. Unable to leave Stephanie alone when she is in need, Tim decides to try and multi-task. All he has to do is rescue Stephanie’s mother, take down the mob, avoid Batman, and get Stephanie to agree to a proper date all in one night. Absolute anarchy ensues.  Ao3 link here! 

It was not even nine o’clock and Tim had already failed the test.  He had made the foolish choice of choosing to linger in the start area, hoping to slip under Bruce’s nose when he chased a false lead.  It hadn’t happened, and Bruce watched from up high as Tim weaved through the crowds in Gotham city centre.  He had heard the sounds of a shooting around the corner, the pharmacy on Broad Street, and Bruce watched from up high as Tim began to make his way towards the junction when a blond teenager crashed past the crowd.  Unable to stop himself from interfering, Tim punched the man chasing her unconscious.

Bruce hummed to himself.  It was a very good punch.

He watched as Tim picked up the girl and made their way to the hospital.  It seemed she had been shot.

“B?”

“Yes Oracle?”

Barbara’s mechanic voice filtered through the earpiece in the Bat’s cowl.

“Shooting not far from you.  Looks like a woman was taken.  A girl was shot at.  No other casualties.”

“I’ve just seen her.  Tim has taken the girl to the hospital.”

“Tim?”  Back in the Clock Tower, Barbara leaned back in her chair.  She clenched her fists in front of her keyboard.  Bruce had seen Tim?  Already? “Oh no.”

“It’s over Oracle.”

Gulping loudly, Barbara tried to think a way around Bruce’s fatalism.  She decided not to acknowledge Bruce’s statement.  Instead, Barbara side stepped it. “How is he?”

“I haven’t confronted him yet.  The girl needed help getting to the hospital. He’s with her now inside.”

Barbara took a breath, seeing an opportunity to delay Tim’s failure lecture.  “The woman who was taken, I took a look at the CCTV in the area.  She was taken in a black VW.  I can find and follow the car?”

“Do that.”

“Yes boss.  And… oop, there we go.  Got a match on her face.”

“Anyone of importance… to the mob?”

The slow correction made Barbara want to snap, but she repressed it, and tried to remain light in tone.

“Her name is Crystal Brown, Arthur Brown’s wife…  Looks like the Cluemaster made some enemies.”

“The girl then must be their daughter?”

Some taps indicated Barbara was doing some quick searches. “Stephanie?  Looks like it.”  Barbara clicked her fingers as she looked up the girl.  “She’s a year older than Tim, they live up just across the river in Gotham County.”

“Master Bruce?”  Alfred’s voice interrupted them.  “Phone call from Central Hospital.  One of their nurses has been kidnapped on her way home from work.  A Crystal Brown?  Her daughter is being treated for a gunshot wound, though apparently it is not severe.”

“We’re tracking Crystal.  Anything more about the daughter?”

“They claimed that she was going somewhere safe.  Could not or would not give specifics.”

“One moment.”  Firing a grappling gun, Batman swung across the rooftops, landing to peer down at the hospital.  He would catch Tim’s attention, ensure Stephanie was safe, then pursue the mother.

Barbara sucked air in between her teeth.  Oh!  An opening!  Mom and daughter were separated.  Maybe if Bruce was focused on Crystal, Tim could be lost to him again watching over Stephanie, and he could get back in this hide and seek game.  If Tim was taking Stephanie somewhere safe, that meant hiding out the night in the city… if Tim was smart.  Barbara liked to think Tim was smart, but he was also like Dick in that he liked to be a hero.  Weighing up what was smart versus what was right was a problem each of them grappled with, some better than others.

Ideally Bruce would look for Crystal, and Tim would watch over Stephanie.  Getting the two boys to line up in that though, especially when Tim was out of earshot, could be nigh impossible.  She could only try to help Tim.  To do that she would help Crystal.  To do that Bruce had to follow up on Mrs Brown, and leave Stephanie to Tim.  A win-win situation for all.  But how to pull Bruce away from watching Tim?  How to ensure Tim wouldn’t get any bright ideas of being the hero to both women?

She began tapping her fingers against her desk, screwing up her lips as she searched through CCTV footage for the number plate and car that had left the pharmacy not too long ago.

Tricky tricky.

Bruce waited patiently for ten minutes.  Before either Stephanie or Tim emerged from the hospital however, the man Tim had punched out stirred across the way, rolling over into a puddle of Stephanie’s sick and blood.  Groaning, he pushed himself up, and pulled out his phone, remaining sat on the wet cold floor of the street.

There was no way Bruce could have listened into the conversation.  He was too high up and the streets were heaving with people out for the night.  Maybe he could…

“Taking the more direct approach sir?”  Alfred queried, seemingly reading Bruce’s mind.

“You’ll have to question him.  He’s another lead to find out what they want with Crystal.  You can find out through him.” Oracle cut in, almost breathless in her delivery.  Barbara was trying to get Bruce off Tim’s tail, and Bruce knew that.

She was right though; he couldn’t let the man leave.  He would know where they were taking Crystal, and what they wanted with Stephanie.

Tim would have to wait.  He watched as the man entered an alleyway to try and compose himself, then shot over above him, ready to yank him up to the rooftop.

Time to talk.

*****

Stephanie shoved her way through several people, instinctively holding herself low as they bolted through the crowds.  Clambering up the stairs was difficult, but she managed it somehow, and sliding through the gate quickly led to a panicked thought before Tim yelled for her to jump over, which she managed, pushing up and over the gate card readers.  When she landed on the other side her leg gave out, and she crumbled to the floor.  Pushing herself forward, she managed to build back up to a run, catching up to Tim, who had his hand out still for her to hold.  His grip was cold and stiff, but he wasn’t shaking or sweating.  Tim wasn’t afraid of these guys.  She looked back for a moment to see them struggling with the gates, pushing back at being refused access by the testy technology.

Exiting onto the street she pulled Tim left, away from places like Crime Alley.  He followed willingly, looking for a way out for them.

“We need to go up high.”

“The roofs?”  Looking up at the tenements and slums, she couldn’t see any public buildings for them to go through.  There were only smaller stores, barricaded up tight for the evening, and endless blocks of flats. Maybe one of the front doors had a broken lock, but it would slow them down and give the men a chance to catch up for every locked door they tried.

Tim yoinked her across the road, jarring her shoulder joint and pulling her down an alley.

She didn’t have time to protest as he was already climbing the stair framing that ran up the side of the building, using momentum to help thrust himself up a flight at a time.  He paused two stories up, looking down to see she wasn’t following.

“Do you need a hand?”  He asked sincerely.  In the dark his eyes managed to remain bright, but otherwise he had somehow managed to blend in with the shadows.

Stephanie gulped, looking down the alley.  There was a congregation of folk who were eyeing the pair suspiciously, but she could hear the mobsters shouting, they were gaining quickly on them.

She shook her head and jumped, pulling herself up and over the railings.  Pushing off the wall, she managed to leap high enough for Tim to grab her arm.  He swung her up back and forth until she could cling to the stairwell, which she then was able to climb to reach the roof.  Tim showed off, practically parkouring his way past her.

She got to the roof after he did.  Copying Tim, she held herself low once more.  They both peered over the edge, watching as the stupid men realised they’d lost them on the other side of the street.  The five men split apart, heading down different alleys and streets, trying to track Stephanie down.  One of them stayed behind and pulled out his phone.  Tim leaned forward eagerly, wanting to hear what was said.

“We found her, she got off the subway at the Bowery.  We followed her to Perry and 27th but…”

He trailed off as someone responded.

“Well I don’t know!  There was some boy with her.  Little skinny prick.”

Tim gently snorted, and Stephanie nudged his shoulder with her head.  A soft familiar headbutt that made his heart stutter.

“Gawd, do you really need her?  Isn’t the wife enough to make Brown show up with the money?”

Stephanie jolted, and instinctively Tim tightened his hold, trying to comfort the sudden tenseness.

“I’m sure the Bat has bigger fish to fry tonight.  A shootout at a pharmacy isn’t high on the list…fine.  Fine.  We’ll keep looking.  Fine.”

And that was that and the call ended.  He dialled someone else, asked for their location, and ran off to catch up with them.

There was silence as Tim and Stephanie caught their breath and tried to piece together what they could.

“My dad pissed off the mob.”

“Looks like it.”

“They want to use my mom and me as leverage.  As if he cares.”

“Hey,” Tim nudged her.  “If they want Arthur to show his face, they won’t kill your mom until they have the both of you and her in the one place.”

“They could be hurting her or –”

“They won’t.  This is the mob, not Zsasz or Black Mask.  They want money they’re owed.  There’s no point doing anything before that.  They’re pragmatic.  Your mom’s just collateral.”

She let go off his hand, letting it hang limp.  “…How can you just say it like that.  My mother is not collateral damage.  Her life is in danger.”

Tim realised he’d overstepped by her flat tone.    

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be! This is just a fun adventure for you is it?”

“No!”  He burst out, contrite.  “God no.  I’m sorry, I was trying to make you feel better.”

Her face turned beetroot with anger.  Oh God.

“How?!  By telling me that my mom is gonna die, but it’s fine, since it won’t be until I’m with her to get my brain blown out too?”

“It means we have time!”

“We?  Who the hell do you think you are?”

She pushed away from the ledge, pacing back and forth.  Tim saw her start to sniff and her eyes grow wet.  She was scared, hurt and trying to trust a stranger.  It was a lot for one night.

“Stephanie… I know this is awful.  I know how awful it is with your mom.  Please believe me.  I know you don’t know what to do, and I know you feel like you’re stuck with me.  I mean… if you want me to go—”

“No.  You’re the reason I am not dead probably.  Three times over now.” She whirled and looked at him kneeling on the roof.  “Who are you?”

Why are you the way you are?

He heaved a sigh, hearing the unasked question, and stood up.  “My full name is Timothy Jackson Drake.  My parents formed Drake Industries.  Have you heard of it?”

She wrinkled her nose.  He was loaded then.  “Yeah, a little.”

“My mom… she died a few years ago.  My dad nearly did too.  Some guy was hired to poison them.”

“Why?”

He looked back down on the street.  The Bowery was incapable of being quiet, and the sounds of sirens, distant gun shots and shouting echoed through the air.

“…I’m sorry.”  Stephanie said.  “It’s none of my business.  I’m sorry that you lost her.”

“…Not your fault.”  He shrugged uselessly.  “I don’t want anyone else to hurt like that.”

She peered at him.  “That’s very noble of you.”

She wasn’t being sarcastic.  Tim laughed sadly all the same and shrugged a little helplessly.  Stephanie fell a little more in awe of him.

“I don’t want you to leave me.”  She whispered.

He looked her straight in the eye.  “Then I promise I won’t.  Not until you’re safe in Bristol.”

She moved closer to him, close enough that they were nearly nose to nose.  He really wasn’t that tall.

“Then what?”

“I’ll contact Batman.”

“And that’ll be that.  I won’t see you again?”

She saw him try to restrain himself from looking shocked.  He once again appeared overly earnest in his usual sweet manner.  Stephanie caught herself staring at his open mouth.

“Can I see you again?”

“…Maybe.  If this mess gets sorted…”

“When this mess is sorted.”

“Hmm.  Then yes.”

She tried to lean in closer, until they were sharing their breath, but it seemed Tim was looking absentmindedly at the floor. His eyes were a hundred miles away, sparkling with hope.

“We can go on a proper date then.”  He said, smiling mostly to himself.  He realised instantly he hadn’t meant to say that out loud and his smile slid off his face.

Stephanie choked and stared at him, reeling at his openness.  “Excuse me?”

“Nothingifyouwantittobenothing.”

“Excuse me?”

This boy was bonkers.  Stephanie knew it.  As loopy as half the people in this freak show of a city.  But he was so earnest it was genuinely disconcerting.  She couldn’t make her mind up if she was disturbed or flattered by his obvious interest.  It was shallow of her, but having a cute, well-meaning boy offer to take her on a date was making her preen internally, and for a moment she flattered herself at catching a rich boy’s attention.

She was abruptly reminded of the worst aspects of her parents when she thought it, and her warm chest froze in disappointment at herself.  Besides, she couldn’t trust this boy, no matter how much she wanted to, no matter how much she tried.  Actions and words were always in conflict, and even he couldn’t make the world fit around what she wanted.  She tried to remind herself that his promises were unrealistic.

Maybe he was genuinely psycho under all that blushing and gentle demeanour.  An angry ticking time bomb that knew how to manipulate vulnerable girls.  Teenage boys were good at that.

But no.  The mortified expression on Tim’s face was pointed internally, and she couldn’t see much anger in him at all.  In the two hours she’d known him, he’d either been on the physically defensive, acting like a brick wall with a fist, or when he himself was attacked verbally or physically, he either ran or curled inward, becoming small and nimble.  He didn’t instigate.  His ego was placed on actual founded skills.

Stephanie wasn’t the best at reading people, but she soon convinced herself that Tim just wore his heart on his sleeve.  She felt her cheeks grow warm in the rooftop breeze.

“I’m sorry.”  Tim muttered again.

“You need to stop apologising.” Stephanie said, reaching for his hand.  “You haven’t done anything wrong.  I’m just not used to being someone as –”

“Dweebish?”

“Genuine as you.”  Tim was staring at their interlocked hands.  “I do want to get to know you better.  I want to see you again.  But I can’t think about it just yet.  I can’t stop thinking about my mom.”

“Well… how about you tell me about her.”  Tim said.  He tugged Stephanie back towards the stairwell, and the two slowly began to descend.

“Umm… What do you want to know about her?”

“She’s a nurse right?”

“Yeah.  An A&E nurse mostly.  It’s real hard on her.”

“I can imagine.”

“She’s addicted to painkillers.” She blurted out.  Tim turned, looking at her sadly.  Stephanie shrugged uselessly.  “I don’t know if dad did a number on her, or mentally she just needs an escape, or both but… I dunno.  It sucks.  She’s only sober when she’s at work.”

“How long has she been an addict?”

Stephanie frowned, thinking hard.  “…I don’t remember… a time when she wasn’t… I don’t think…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“No but…”

They plopped down on the ground, Tim poking his head round the corner.

“We can grab the 82 from here.”

“Okay.”

They walked, and Stephanie moved closer to Tim, almost burying into his side.

“What about you?  Your mom?  Is it painful to think of her?”

Tim blinked, as if the thought had never occurred to him.  “Not so much anymore.  We weren’t super close.  I spent so much time worrying about my dad.  He took a long time to recover.  He’s still recovering in a way.  I guess I just… regret that she wasn’t there, when I was a kid.  And now she never will be.”

If Stephanie could take one small comfort from her own relationship with her mother, it was that it still had the potential to be functional.  Maybe even loving.  Perhaps it was foolish, but Stephanie still hoped, deep down.  Tim didn’t have that chance.  

“What do you remember about her?”

“Uhhh… She changed hair colour a lot.  She dyed it blonde, red, black, brown… She used to always bring me back stuff from abroad.  A lot of it was pretty much expensive junk… but I’ve kept it all.”

Stephanie smiled.

“Was she nice?  Do you have a photo?”

“I uurrr… I don’t have my phone on me right now.”

She frowned, lips pressed together as they waited by the bus stop.  A few others were also waiting, everyone minding their own business thankfully, though Stephanie felt like one of them was leering at the couple, though his face was hidden under a hoodie.

“Okay seriously… what were you doing in the centre of Gotham tonight?”

Tim anxiously scratched the back of his head.  “Gosh…hard to explain.”

“Try.”

He was saved by the arrival of the bus.  Stephanie went to get on, but Tim tugged her back, insisting to get on first.  He didn’t step all the way on to start with, curving his head around the aisle, narrowing his eyes when inspecting those on board.  Stephanie huffed and gave a gentle push on his back.  Tripping up the stairs, he smiled awkwardly at the severely depressed looking driver.  Possibly the worst shift to have on the already dodgy Gotham bus system, Stephanie couldn’t fault him for having such a no-nonsense face on.

They quickly paid and headed for the middle rows, Stephanie sitting in the aisle seat.  The bus was nearly full.  There was a guy behind them dressed only in a tank top and speedo swimming trunks.  Stephanie tried not to ogle in horror.  She reached in her bag and pulled out her phone.  Tim’s eyes bugged out his head in a sudden realisation.

“Oh no.  Turn that off.”

“I was gonna check if news had caught on about my mom…”

Her pleading made him sympathetic, but he shook his head.  Reluctantly, she turned it over and took off the back, pulling out the battery, SIM card and SD card, putting it all back in her little bag.  The man behind them began insistently kicking her chair.  She felt her eyes roll up into her head, and she tried to keep her temper in check.  Not worth it not worth it not worth it…

“I hate this.”  She confessed.

“Being helpless?  I get that.”

Stephanie thought of what he had said about his mother, and knew he was being honest.

“How did you learn to fight so good anyway?”

“I pushed and pushed and pushed the right people.”  He sounded faintly amused as he spoke, like he was recalling a funny memory.

She leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially. “Was one of those people Batman?”

“Uh.” His face showed he’d put his foot in it, and he screwed up his lips trying to think of an answer.  His lack of response gave her the confirmation she needed.  A violent kick from behind made her jerk forward, and with a hiss she tried to continue their conversation.

“How’d you find him?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Could he teach me the same stuff as you?”

“I mean he could…don’t think he would though.  He didn’t exactly take to me with open arms.”  Tim paused, staring at their feet.  Stephanie had put one foot in between his, as if she liked being wrapped around him in some way.  Tim smiled absentmindedly, but then grew sad once more. “Still don’t think he has actually.”

“That’s not surprising.”

Tim scoffed and looked at her, eyebrow raised.  “In what way?”

“That a guy in a bat suit is easily impressed.  Like he’s the kind of guy where nothing’s ever good enough.  You’d have to like…save the world from Superman to get his approval or something.  I dunno.”

She’d hit the nail on the head, uttering something Tim had heard from Dick a dozen times before.  At first, he’d thought Dick was just jaded by his view of Bruce, but overtime Tim saw the truth in the statement.

Or maybe Tim was slowly becoming jaded too.  What could he do to impress Bruce?  Like really really impress him?

A lightbulb pinged on in Tim’s head.

A very stupid lightbulb.

“I can do that.” He whispered out loud.

“Huh-Ow!” Her query turned to a cry of shock.  The speedo man behind them had decided Stephanie’s hair was worth pulling hard.  Her head snapped back a broken gasp escaping her.  Tim whirled around and she jerked out of her seat violently.  “What is your problem?”  She asked, looming over the guy.

“Sit down!” The bus driver angrily called back.

“Stephanie.”  Tim quietly urged.

“No!  What is your problem?” She asked again.

The man was utterly off his face, Tim and Stephanie knew that just from looking at him.  But it didn’t stop either of them from being horrified when he looked up at Stephanie and called her several names that even a tattooed bloke down the aisle gasped at.

Stephanie gawked for a moment.

Tim grew angry, and began to kneel on his seat.  “Hey you can’t just –”

He didn’t get to finish, as Stephanie recovered her senses enough to utterly lose her rag.  She slapped Mr. Speedo.  Hard.

His head whipped to the side, slap and neck making a sickening snap each.  Her face was white with anger.  Everyone in the bus oooed like teenagers at the potential of a fight. Tim felt his stomach drop at the violence and the anxiety it produced.  Another part of him couldn’t help but find the whole thing cathartic for Stephanie and satisfying for himself to see such a man be smacked down like that.  He breathed an impressed laugh.

The bus driver was not as amused, throwing the breaks on and opening the doors. Stephanie lost her footing on her weak leg and stumbled down the aisle.  Tim instinctively jolted up to prevent her from falling.  He grabbed her wrist and corrected her balance.

“Off!”  Was all the bus driver said.  No, he truly did not suffer any sort of misbehaviour.

Stephanie whirled away, humiliated, and Tim followed.

They got off and Stephanie waited until the bus drove away.  Once it was out of sight, she screeched.  It was so piercing Tim actually winced and took a step backwards.

With a huff she bent in half and struggled to get her breathing back under control.  Tim waited patiently next to her.

“That was impressive.  To stand up for yourself like that.”  He tried to sound positive, but she shook her head, eyes wet as the adrenaline faded.

“Even dogs fight back when you kick them.”

“You’re not a bitch, or anything else he called you.”

“You don’t know that.”

He only sighed.  She was incapable of taking reassurances.  He doubted after learning of her mother and father that she’d ever received positive affirmation in her life.

He gave up then and looked around.

“Where to next?”  Asked Stephanie, the crown of her head still facing the floor.

“Um…”  Looking around, Tim tried to catch his bearings.  There were five people brawling with each other across the street.  Didn’t look like a mugging, just drunk people being drunk.  Tim cut his losses and decided to leave them alone.  There was a convenience store open down the way, which meant they were getting into slightly better territory.

Slightly.

For Gotham.

If they walked the route of the bus, they’d eventually arrive at the monorail, where they could head up and get back on the subway to Bristol, without doubling back to where the mob were searching for them.

“What were you saying earlier?  Before the shit grabbed my hair?”  Poisonous loathing leaked into her voice when Stephanie asked Tim her questions.  She was still pretty angry.

But oh yes.  Tim’s bright idea.

Tim thought they’d lost the mob for now.  He also thought he was still out of sight for Bruce.  It had just gone quarter to eleven.  Three hours gone, nine to go.  Easy peasy.  Bruce must have caught on to the kidnapping news, right?  He would be pursuing that.  Not Tim.

But what if he hadn’t?  And Stephanie’s mom had been abandoned by any competent form of authority?

Or what if Bruce had found out, but was hunting for Stephanie.  Did he know she was with Tim?

Oh God.  What if Bruce had already found him?

If that were true, then why couldn’t Tim go after Crystal?  Stephanie wasn’t a troublesome load, she was half fire half angry slapping.  She could climb and run and jump better than most civilians.  She wouldn’t be a burden.

She’d said she hated being helpless…

Okay, so he was deviating slightly from the initial plan.  He could make it work.  He was more than capable.

They needed a lead though.  Information on where Crystal had been taken.  Tim stared at the convenience store.

Another equally stupid light bulb went off in Tim’s head.

“You hungry?  Need to pee or anything?”

“I want a shower so I can get the puke out of my hair.”

“Right right.  Makes sense.  A sink then.  I just… I have an idea.”

“Huh?”

“You want to not be helpless.  Let’s stop running.  Let’s find your mom.”

She finally unbent her back, peering at him suspiciously, but curious nonetheless.

“Expand please.”