#ivy was like: redhead... Nightwing problem | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

akimmito · 4 years

Text

They thought they won #1

"Ok. So, this is a fanfic that follows the directions posted by @chocolate1721. I liked it and wanted to write it, so here it is.

I divided it into two parts because it had 7546 words and I had only written about Gotham, I was still missing Paris. So, to allow a more pleasant reading I separated it.

This is a Timinette fanfic because I think there are very few of them and I want more content from these two.

So, let's get started.

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

Taggued: @elmokingkong

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

A trip to Gotham did not go as badly as Marinette thought it would. And they were talking about Gotham, a city so dangerous that you cannot set foot on the streets without suffering an attempted assault. She can only think that Ladybug's luck allowed them to pass the two weeks of the trip without any incident that attempted against the life of any of their companions (although the class screamed to be attacked with Lila spreading scandalous lies). So everything was fine ... Until his last night in the city.

A quiet night, if they could ignore the screams that were occasionally heard (Damn it, Bustier, why so close to the Crime Alley?). The class dined as if there was not a three-front war brewing between the students, it was a time when Lila's lies were hardly heard. It was a great night for Marinette... but then again, why so close to the Crime Alley?

As soon as they left the small restaurant they met two well-known Gotham villains, causing panic in almost all the members of the French class. Only two girls saw that there really is no danger, too many injuries to pose a threat. Harley and Ivy barely can see the students, they can't even stop.

Marinette, sweet Marinette, approaches them to see their wounds. She's not going to let someone bleed to death in front of her, not if she can help it.

Chloe follows her closely; each taking one of the women to identify the wounds and see how to get them to the hospital. However, Marinette believes that if she lets them bleed freely it won't do to take them anywhere; She began tearing her clothes to make makeshift bandages with the pieces for the most bleeding wounds ... That was until the class stopped being a bunch of screaming and inconsistency.

"Oh, I didn't want to believe it, but you're working with villains!" Lila's comment sparked the class hostility, Chloe just huffs mockingly.

"Damn it, Marinette. Don't you get tired of being such a bitch? "

"Joining Chloe, what did they expect? If they both work for Hawkmoth, obviously they would for the villains here." Someone, Marinette doesn't want to identify the voice, accuses them (again) of working with the Parisian villain, when clearly the man has put a target on her back to corrupt her and turn her into an Akuma. Anyway, idiots.

"You suck, Marinette!"

"What a disappointment, Marinette, you would know better that you must be a good example for class."

"Fools. " Chloe curses under her breath at her teacher's comment.

"I'm. No matter who the person is, I'm not going to see them die if I can help avoid it. ”Marinette frowns at the teacher. There was a time when she thought it was amazing, but those were childish thoughts of a thirteen year old girl who thought the world was divide in black and white. The world is more than that.

Everyone is so engrossed in the uproar that they are not alert enough, Marinette gets mad at herself for not being more careful. The Joker, FUCKING JOKER, is in front of them with a stuffed animal? Marinette isn't going to question it, as far as she knows, it could be a bomb. Even so…

The class doesn't wait a second when they run away, Joker just laughs at the reaction. Chloe stands in front of the two wounded women, waiting for any sign of her best friend, whether to flee or fight.

Marinette scans her surroundings without taking her attention from the madman in front of her. Her first option would be to run, but she's not going to leave Harley and Ivy helpless in the face of the brutal clown-themed killer (all fully justified childhood fears). A moment of silence when the class screams are lost in the streets, it almost seems like a dramatic moment from an action movie.

Joker is excited. The two girls stayed behind to protect their toy and the redhead. He might be impressed; not just anyone would stay to face it. No one is so crazy. His gaze falls on the dark-haired girl, she looks too calm and in ambient. He smiles when he sees her walking to face him and bends down to grab a lever too convenient in the middle of the sidewalk. She's a fun girl! Before she does, he lunges for her. It will be a fun game between the two.

Chloe watches Marinette fight the Joker with a crowbar, take and hit. She can tell he wants to knock him out, but, well, he's not doing it. Brutal would be a good word to describe the little Parisian drawing blood from the man as he laughs as if he had been given the top prize in the lottery (Chloe firmly believes he really feels that way). And it seems he really likes Marinette, a shiver running down her spine at the thought. Chloe bends quickly towards the two women trying to get up, the more time passes the more possibilities there are for that crazy man to become obsessed with her friend and she will not allow it (Kagami will dismember her with her katana if she allows it).

Harley and Ivy barely manage to stand up, but lean heavily on Chloe. It does not bother her, her training has allowed her to support a little extra weight and as long as she does not have to carry them, there's no problem.

"If you don't hit harder, you won't win," Joker laughs with each comment, wanting to force the girl to be more brutal, even though she is too calm and his comments don't seem to reach her.

"Who said something about winning?" It's the first time she've answered him, he smiles. Marinette bites her tongue to containing any other comment, if she opens her mouth she will get the maniac to follow her to Paris and a madman behind her is enough.

Somehow, while fighting, he has cornered the group in a corner. Marinette berates herself for worrying too much about useless things and now she must win, but give him that satisfaction. Her hair stands on end, a bad blow and her weapon goes in the opposite direction and away from her. Now she only has a clean fist. She can work with it, even though her brain screams at her to run. She swallows thick when he lunges at her again. His mind is a constant alarm of: there's no cure, there's no cure, there's no cure.

But at that moment dark figures leap from the surrounding buildings and confront him, Marinette backs down without letting her guard down until her mind focuses enough to recognize them. The city vigilants.

From there everything is a whirlwind of thoughts and Marinette does not realize when the Joker has been placated and has them close, to the surprise them, she launches herself towards one totally random and remains in the arms of Nightwing who only smiles kindly at the agitated girl about to cry with relief.

"I, help ... them, yes ... wounds, that." Marinette can't hold a coherent sentence toward Nightwing.

"What he meant is that they are injured and need immediate medical attention." Chloe stands firm and will never admit that her legs are shaking, or that being held by Red Hood was welcome help. First dead than looking vulnerable.

Marinette lets herself slip into Nightwing's arms as all the adrenaline leaves her. It's been a long time since she felt this way helpless towards some danger, but she was just Marinette and there was no chance of Ladybug showing up. Thank heaven for the arrival of the vigilants.

"Robin has already alerted the police, he should be here soon." Batman looks at both girls for a moment, but turns to watch the unconscious Joker.

"Everything is fine. " Nightwing whispers to the little girl in his arms, he feels her tremble against him and he is no longer sure if it is the fear or has another origin.

In a short time the police are there and the two Parisian girls have to give a statement (unfortunately the loss of blood left the two women out of action).

"How it happend?" Chloe takes the initiative, Marinette doesn't seem to be ready to leave Nightwing or say something more coherent than a barely audible babble, clearly struggling to stay together between anxiety and guilt, because yes, Marinette Dupain-Cheng can't help blame herself. Sometimes, Chloe thinks, want to shake her until she regains her senses (but that doesn't work, Luka's melodies, on the contrary. Oh, they're magical).

"To begin with, this is the fault of our teacher's incompetence to choose a restaurant so close to the Crime Alley. Second, I am very surprised that it did not happen before because our companions were struggling to get the attention of a madman. They said so many stupid things." The vigilants raise an eyebrow at the girl's words, if they didn't know better they could believe that the girls didn't suffer a close encounter with the Joker. "And third, Dupain-Cheng is too good to let someone bleed to death in front of her and I too good a friend to see her jump into danger alone. This leaves me with the experience of never going on a trip with that band of incompetents. "

"Can you relate the incident?" Commissioner Gordon is tired, with each passing day new characters appear in the city and he is never ready. The girl hiding in Nightwing's arms and her friend who seems ready to declare war to anyone.

"They appeared bleeding, our companions being stupid, the madman appears and they all flee leaving us behind. Ha, surely they would have thrown us towards him if they had not been so afraid" Chloe doesn't miss the opportunity to make a dismissive comment to her class, Marinette is out of combat to reprimand her for being too cruel with her sincerity. "Dupain-Cheng being so sweet as an acid candy defends us, is done with a lever and gets into a fight with the madman. Somehow we ended up in this horrible place and well, they came along and Dupain-Cheng falls apart in her standard nervous form. It will be fine, it just tends to over-think. The only thing recorded is the split lip, the rest is her realizing a thousand possible scenarios where everything went wrong. "

That said, the four women are rushed to the hospital (Nightwing accompanies them because the young woman in his arms refused to release him and also didn't have the heart to leave her alone when it was obvious that she needed comfort). As soon as they arrive they are checked and Nightwing leaves, giving the girls a brief look before leaving.

"We will stay here, we want to make sure they are okay." Chloe takes control of the situation, refusing to abandon the women. Anyway, after the act on the street, he doubts that they will be well received by the class. She is sure they are not worried and can almost hear their irritating voices speaking nonsense about it.

The doctors allow it stay there with the endorsement of the police, they fall asleep on a sofa in the room where Harley and Ivy are locate. Marinette calmed down throughout the trip to the hospital, muttering apologies to the caretaker who accompanied her for sticking like a koala to his person. And her rest is very calm, without nightmares or anything; Maybe it's the emotional exhaustion of the experience, but there are no dreams riddled with deaths or with the Joker, there is only a deep black who embraces her like a good friend.

The next morning they are awakened by the voices of Harley and Ivy talking to the doctor, Chloe also recognizes the voice of the officer who took the statement yesterday.

"They were very daring and their classmates abandoned them, even the adult with them. "

"You should do something, Jimmy!"

Gordon notices the looks of the two girls and approaches to talk to them, being much more rested can better appreciate the mettle of the two young girls. Especially the dark-haired one, last night was a bunch of inconsistencies and today she looks completely calm, looking towards Harley and Ivy looking for confirmation of their health.

"Good morning, ladies. "

"Good morning, Officer. " Marinette greets with a friendly smile, focusing her attention on the officer. She knows that they must return to their class and return to Paris.

"No one reported two girls missing, but you mentioned they are on a class trip. Can I know the name of the person in charge to call them?"

"Claine Bustier from Paris, France. College Françoise Dupont, we stayed at the Gotham Royal Hotel. Our room is the 155. "Marinette enters all her data, but she also decides that it is better that she has absolutely all of them. "My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 17 years old. My parents are Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain, they have a bakery. Tom & Sabine Boulangerie."

"Chloe Burgeois, I reside at the Hotel Le Grand Paris. My father is the mayor, André Burgeois, and my mother is Audrey Burgeois, the Queen of Style. "

Gordon takes note of all the information they have given him, if he cannot contact her teacher he has two pairs of parents to call for their daughters. And for them to be giving that contingency, he can intuit that they know that perhaps they imagine that it will be the case.

He immediately retires and leaves them alone with the two women. He has a job to do.

Gordon spent the whole morning trying to locate the teacher, according to the hotel they left him early in the morning and they have no idea about anything. He doesn't want to alarm the girls' parents yet, so he will first talk to them to find out if they know where they could be, he sends them to bring to the police station to facilitate the whole process, and he also asks for food for the girls. It's almost lunch time.

"Welcome, sit down." The two girls obey with slightly worried expressions, they seem to be fearing the worst. "I have been unable to locate their teacher or class, according to the hotel, they left early in the morning. "

Marinette holds her breath, reality hit her in the face. Chloe's not much better. It was their last night in Gotham, today they had to take a flight to Paris... they didn't it because they are sure that they abandoned them. They start muttering in French at Gordon's confusion, they look alarmed.

"Sir, we are supposed to go back to Paris today. And... well, lately our teacher hasn't been taking roll. Also, she take what our comrades say as fact." Marinette panics again, but this time there are no saviors and they are trapped in another country. "I just hope they didn't go to Paris without us..."

"Don't be innocent, Maribug." Chloe addresses her with her friend's loving nickname, sees her on the verge of panic and hopes to remind her that they are in this together. "Of course they left without us, she didn't count for a visit to the museum. What will be different today? A word from Lie-la and everything goes under her will."

There was a small second of surprise that gave way to panic interspersed with fury in Gordon's features, he turns to pick up the phone and call the airport in a frenzy. He began to demand passengers on flights to Paris, but was repeatedly denied and his patience goes overboard.

"Ladies, would you mind waiting outside?" "Marinette and Chloe obey. They stay near the door because they don't know where to go and catch the officer's scream." THERE ARE TWO CHILDREN WHO COULD HAVE BEEN ABANDONED BY THEIR TEACHER IN THE CITY! NOW TELL ME IF CALINE BUSTIER BOEARDED THE FUNCKING PLANE WITH HER STUDENTS OR NOT! "

Boiling with anger and after a few more screams, Gordon has the information. But he's still so furious that he could commit murder on the spot. Worst of all, he also has video evidence of a student tearing up two airline tickets that, if you have to guess, are those of the girls they left behind. What do those people have in mind? He already feel the migraine coming.

He drops into his chair, counts to ten, and decides to call Bruce. Technically, being a Wayne Foundation sponsored trip, he's responsible for the two girls and with him in charge it will be easier to deal with the parents.

"Hey, Bruce. I have a situation, the Wayne Foundation sponsored a class trip for the Françoise Dupont School and the teacher in charge left two of his students abandoned in the country; I have video evidence of their negligence and I am sure that in every place they went to there is has least one camera that must have caught something. " He massages his forehead, it's not his jurisdiction, but when doing it in his territory he can form a case and send it to the Paris police for follow. "You should come and take care of them while we resolve to take them home, one of her classmates broke their tickets and I'm not even sure if their belongings are in good condition. "

"I understand, Jim. I'll take over, I'll be there soon. "

Gordon is relatively more relieved, but no less angry. He gets up to ask them to come back in and tell them what will happen, so they won't be surprised to see Bruce Wayne coming for them.

"Bruce will take care of you, make all the preparations for your return trip to Paris. And while you come, how normal is the situation with your teacher and your classmates?" He watches the silent interaction and the blonde is the one talking.

"We are the only two people in our class who do not believe Lie-la's lies. Maribug earned her hatred by trying to expose her stories for what they are: lies. And I, well, I was never going to let myself be bowed down by someone like her. "Marinette denies because of the choice of words.

"She considers us an obstacle in her reign. When she arrived, I never believed her because the stories were too unrealistic even for our standards in the class, considering that we all know a fair amount of celebrities and we all form a very diverse group with a promising future, I mean we have Max, he create an AI capable of feeling emotions. So when I didn't believe her and tried to make my friends see reason, she swore that she would take everything away from me ... And she did, it wouldn't have been so bad if it were just that, I realized who my true friends are and that I shouldn't trust anyone. The real problem is the way in which he influenced them all, I cann't longer recognize Alya, she is even worse than Chloe years ago. "Marinette sighs, remembering the last years is exhausting in many ways. "So they have marginalized us, they attack us only because Lila says that we did something to her even when we were not there and we have witnesses who can confirm our stories..."

"Seeing them is like seeing a surreal work with abstract tendencies, impossible to believe what you are seeing. The worst is Bustier, she's a facilitator. I hadn't seen the problem before, but now that I'm in Maribug's place too, well, we were clearly wrong about what kind of teacher she was. She believes all her lies and even congratulates her on them! She let use everyone to her holy whim and antagonize those who don't. ”Chloe gets up indignant and ready to continue ranting, not many adults stop to listen to them. "I'm tired of hearing the same speech from her must be the best person, Marinette. Be a good example! Someone should teach him didactics, she obviously doesn't know what she's doing. And now she leaves us in another country! Negligent, stupid, facilitator ..."

"Chloe, stop it. He understood your point. "Marinette is the voice of reason and tries to appease her friend's overflowing anger. It's true that having someone willing to listen is cathartic, but they should not take so many liberties.

"It's not fair, Maribug, not with you. Always ready to help others and they simply attack you when you decide to think about yourself and your future. They think you owe them something and it's totally the other way around because without you, that class wouldn't be half as good as it's ... because when you took the class presidency they all grew in their areas..."Chloe sits down again, her brow furrowed and still very angry. "They don't deserve you. "

"Miss Bustier often asks me to help her with different tasks, before it meant an additional workload… I became her disappointment when I told her that I would not do more work outside of my duties as class president, it dictated by the rules of the institution. She lectured me that I should not be selfish, that it's for the benefit of the class ... and well, I told him that if she gave me half her salary I would gladly continue doing her job. She punished me, but it was the truth. "Marinette looks at her hands, that conversation was before the trip to Gotham and her punishment would start as soon as they returned to Paris, a pity that left her abandoned.

Surprised is a word that falls short, Gordon doesn't understand how an adult woman can be so irrational. What kind of alternate dimension does that class live in? A person with at least two functioning neurons would not be so ridiculous; At least, he thinks, perhaps the lies are well crafted as unrealistic as they may have seemed, correct?

"All this arose from the lies of that girl, how are those lies? "He feels like asking was a bad idea and the looks of the two girls are confirmation.

"She has tinnitus because she saved Jagged Stone's kitten from being run over by an airplane." Marinette replies completely blank.

"She knows half of Hollywood and recently said that she knows the whole Wayne family and that Damian Wayne has been her friend since she was five years old. "Marinette snorts not holding her stoic expression, they only said some lies, but it is that the others border on the delirium that they do not they want to end up in Arkham just for repeating it. That last one, of course, was very close. "I wish someone would warn her that the boy lived with his mother until he was ten years old. "

From there, Chloe gives more details and there is no longer Marinette who can stop her. By the time Bruce arrives with two of his boys, Gordon is on a call with the French police for a case to be brought to the French Board of Education about the school and its unethical methods of education, citing Marinette's unfair expulsion which looks it's still on the school record.

Bruce looks at the two girls in Gordon's office, the blonde looks ready for war and the other girl is sitting quietly. Dick and Tim walk behind him; Richard couldn't resist seeing the girl who hung on him as a koala baby again and Tim is there for exactly the same as Bruce, taking charge because is also his responsibility.

"Good afternoon." Bruce greets, catching the attention of the two Parisian girls. They return the greeting and Gordon only makes a gesture of recognition, the police chief reviews the video he sent and the evidence he has of the case, he can hear him muttering indignantly and something about his daughter being part of all that circus.

"Hey!" Richard greets as well, being friendlier than his adoptive father. "I'm Richard, but you can call me Dick and this is Tim, my little brother. ”Tim gives him a contemplative look and just nods at them. His eyes fixed on everything but the two girls.

"I'm Marinette and she's Chloe, nice to meet you." Marinette smiles brightly. Dick can't believe he's the same girl of last night, but apparently she is.

Gordon ends the call at that time, the police said to initiate a police investigation and to involve the Board of Education.

"Well, ladies. When they get home they will ask for your formal statement and the presentation of the charges, although it seems that the prosecution will take care of that. ”He smiles at the girls, who agree with his words. Chloe celebrates, of course it will involve her father too. "Hi Bruce, thanks for coming."

"Of course. And since you mentioned the investigation, Tim collected all of the security camera files from the past two weeks. Every place they were in is in the file. " Tim hands the memory over to the commissioner, he still has a copy on the computer to review in detail himself.

"Thanks, I will review it and send the parts of interest to France."

After that, the five retreat to the Wayne Manor. The suitcases, or what is left of them, awaits they there. Any impression they might have on seeing the mansion falls short because of the disgust of seeing its things ruined.

"Well, Maribug, can I take this as evidence for my theory?" The hosts are still close enough to hear his words, even though they were about to leave them alone.

"Lila's being a meta or the Akuma's?" Marinette rummages in the secret compartments of her suitcase to make sure it was not raped, fortunately it's intact. It's safe to say that none of them thought that it would have a false base with a secret content, the place where the box of miracles rests. Ever since Hawkmoth decided to target her, she has been a little paranoid, or well, very paranoid. She has two secret compartments inside a secret compartment in her room, to store it, but being so far away she didn't feel calm and decided to carry it with her. Maybe it should include some riddle like firewall.

"Akuma, but Lie-la's also fits."

"I think it's the second one, only the class behaves this stupid so we can't blame Hawkmoth, half Paris continues to maintain it's logical reasoning. "Marinette shrugs and classifies the clothes that still serve and the clothes which inevitably must Discard.

Chloe just hums in agreement, it's a valid point. Long nights of conversation with Kagami and Luka (Marinette's small notes) to determine the motives of the class being so incoherent and violent without a truly logical reason led to those two theories.

"You have to call home, Chloe. You already heard Mr. Wayne. "

"Yeah yeah, I'm going to. At least I brought the least glamorous clothes for this trip. "

That's a ground call for Tim, who had overheard their conversation upon hearing something curious. He must prepare the trip to Paris with Wayne's private plane, Bruce wants to take charge of the situation and speak in person with the parents of both girls. Every hour he knows they won't be leaving until the next day, giving them time to spend time with their unexpected guests.

The call is quick and enough for Marinette to fear that her mother will become Akuma. A message from her father confirms that her fears were unfounded, that her mother's anger is cold and will not fall into Hawkmoth's hands.

When the two girls relax and take a breather, knowing that they will sleep in that mansion, they don't even have time to think twice when Jason drags them into a room full of weapons, Marinette can barely contain her surprise and Chloe glows with excitement.

"Ready to learn how to shoot a gun?" Chloe jumps with badly contained enthusiasm, Marinette is not so enthusiastic about it, but learning to remove a weapon considers that it is something useful for what she asks to start there. "Okay, pixie-pop, I'll teach you how to take apart and lock a weapon."

They spend an entire two hours immersed in the world of weapons, Chloe going through each type as Marinette confronts Jason to disarm him, showing off her quick learning, though not good enough to beat her temporary master.

When Marinette leaves, claiming she doesn't want to shoot, she bumps into Damian and asks him for directions to get out of there.

"Because I should?"

"If I get lost it will be your fault." He snorts, but accepts. He doesn't want a stranger sniffing around the mansion and sticking his nose where it shouldn't. They walk in silence when she notices he is carrying a sword. "Is it a katana?"

"What else would it be?"

"An umbrella." She laughs at the boy's annoyed expression when he turns to look at her as if he thinks she's crazy. "There is a design inspired by katanas, a friend decided it was a good idea to scare us with it..."

"Pff. And why did you believe it?"

"She really tried to cut off someone's hand one day, it was with a saber, but ... we really believed her capable of attacking someone with a katana" Damian only raises an eyebrow with a curiosity that he refuses to admit even to himself. "And she's deadly with a sword, we vowed never to face her again with real swords unless we somehow became Superman. "

"Can you fight with swords?" He was being tolerant by allowing her to speak at first, but the latter did catch his attention. It may not be a good one, but having someone who won't cut its finger on themselves in a workout can be helpful, and if he can get her better, a decent opponent to practice with.

"I avoided she cutting my arm with a katana, does that count?"

It changes course and they head to another room, similar to the weapons room, but this time it is full of swords and knives. She respects people's hobbies, she does, but the amount is over the top and she has a slight suspicion that there is more somewhere in the big mansion. Will there be a pump room? She wouldn't be surprised if one of the other two brothers suddenly came out claiming fanaticism about the explosives.

"I want to see how bad you are."

Ouch, Marinette thinks. She has been ruled out immediately, but will not decline now that she's surrounded by so many weapons. She does feel more excited about a sword than a gun, they can't blame her for preferring close combat.

"We will fight with katana, take whatever you want. They are all polished and sharp. ”She feels something dark when she mentions the sharp, as well as pride in the perfect maintenance of her weapons. She smiles confidently, the boy reminds her of Kagami (albeit much more somber and clearly hostile).

Having chosen, the two are placed in position. And he begins to criticize hard and coldly.

"Your posture is very loose, you will only get him to cut your throat with the first blow. Your friend is an idiot, she must has corrected you since he saw you. ”Mariette nods. "Imitate me. ”She obeys, reflecting her posture. "But be firmer, this is not a dance, it's a fight and if you don't stand up fine. Well, you will dead. "

After several minutes in the same position, they begin. A couple of movements and he correct her again.

"The movement must be strong and fluid, you will cause a fracture on your own if you allow the elbow to continue flexing like this. You must be precise in the movements, you cann't start to experiment if you don't have dominated the base. Again. "

With each criticism and correction the girl makes, she becomes more excited. Damian is relentless with his comments, openly insulting her for her mistakes, but gives the correct and fair corrections for the problem she presents.

"You are agile and flexible, use it to your advantage. Put aside unnecessary movements, sword fighting is offensive and deadly." Marinette notices that she is having fun, if the smile says anything (however mischievous it is when she mocks her mistakes). At least until he stumbles over his own feet and falls flat on his face in front of Damian. "You're an idiot?! You almost stabbed yourself, you can't fall like this! Get up and regain the dignity you have left. Again and don't fall or I’ll stab yourself. "

Marinette has a good time, she doesn't even notice the time she spends training with Damian. Alfred interrupts them by announcing that dinner has been served since fifteen minutes.

"Thanks Alfred." She smiles kindly.

Damian reluctantly guards the sword, his brothers always choose other weapons when training. It was satisfying to have someone willing to fight him in his area, especially for his quick learning, he only had to correct twice about posture and movement; he also noticed that she was imitating his movements to correct himself as they fought. Less useless than his brothers, he will give she that.

When they enter, everyone is eating or so it seems. Tim looks at his plate as if he is going to speak to him at any moment, Dick talks more than he eats (with Stephanie who came interested in the two girls who could be victims of Bruce's adoption), Jason has not even touched the plate and in change is arguing over the theory of how to disassemble a grenade launcher with Chloe. Bruce is the only one who eats in silence, at least until he sees his youngest son arrive with Marinette.

"Excuse me." Marinette sits in the empty seat next to Tim, who barely registers the movement. She worries a little, she seems to be in her bad weeks (say Hawkmoth and her Akuma at three in the morning).

Dinner passes unceremoniously, past Damian demanding they shut up, almost stabbing Marinette's hand with his fork. And contrary to what anyone might think, she just laughs, the whole situation seemed so refreshing, so many people at a table and the familiarity with which they were received. She feels comfortable, even with Damian's passive-aggressive attitude.

Somehow, an hour later, they are dragged back into another room. This time both Chloe and Marinette want to scream, and Mari feels she can be relieved because it didn't result in bombs or anything more dangerous than the other two. He gets them comfortable clothes so they can get on, knowing that they have been sweating and going in normal clothes.

Chloe does not hesitate to climb on the trapeze after warming up, but Marinette sits on the parallel bars, not that she is not willing to do the same as Chloe, but she flies often enough as Ladybug to look for something calmer, although she should take advantage and she would like to have a private gym like that, because there are also weights and a punching bag.

Dick is in cloud nine watching how the two girls look like fish in the water, he imagined that it would be so. Especially when she saw Marinette training with Damian and the movements she made, she is clearly a gymnast. And being there, well, that the two of them are so enthusiastic only makes it better. Unlike his brothers, he just wants them to have fun.

At some point in the time they take turns between the bars and the trapeze, Dick and Chloe end up competing. While Marinette is happy on the uneven bars until Damian re-monopolizes her and they move to the weapons room; leaving the other two doing jumps and twists in the air (Dick wins, of course).

Of course, Marinette enjoys the workout and is glad she didn't end up hurt in any way. It would be funny to explain to her parents that they ended up fighting with swords with a boy four years younger and that he did not have the mercy to avoid hurting her.

"Better than a few hours ago, you're not that horrible anymore. "

"Decent, right?"

"That is too favorable for you, you still trip over the air and almost take your eye out." Damian frowns in disappointment at the incompetence of maintaining a decent balance when he has both feet on the ground. When he saw her on the uneven bars, it was almost believed that the jumps that ended in disaster were fake, but no, she really stumbled into nothingness itself.

"Uh, sorry. I will do it better.

"You better, I won't admit any more stupid mistakes."

Damian would have preferred to go on patrol, but he won't complain about the training either. He had fun at the girl's expense and, above all, he knows that if he sees her again and she keeps practicing (he will make sure of that) he will be a better rival than today. She can even introduce that friend of her to measure levels, he's better of course but it never hurts to re-confirm.

At ten at night they go to bed, Alfred shows the room to the two girls and lets them settle down. Marinette can't sleep, after four hours of tossing and turning, she resigns herself and leaves, looking at Tikki on her pillow sleeping comfortably, she can't help envying her good rest. Pick up your phone and it's 2:15.

She curses her insomnia and wanders around the mansion, somehow miraculously ends up in the kitchen. It is a dim light that directs her there, since everything else is dark, she didn't even feel when went downstairs.

In the kitchen, Tim is leaning against the table with his computer on and a steaming coffee. Suddenly he gets up and turns to her with a surprised (and very confused) expression, but more surprised Marinette is when he does that.

"Oh Im sorry…"

"No, no ... Uh, can't you sleep?"

"Usually not. What are you doing?" Marinette knows that she is taking, perhaps, too much liberties when curious about what Tim is doing, but she is not sleepy and there is nothing else to do.

"Work, Wayne Industries is developing a new model of heavy machinery for moving cargo containers, much more resistant to be located on the coasts for the rainy seasons… I am reviewing all the designs, suggested materials and profitability of each project to present to the board in three weeks. There are seven different models, and none are tailored to it needs. " Tim shows the blueprint of the last model he has reviewed, flipped it over several times, and revised the materials, but they are not entirely satisfactory for what he is seeking to present.

"It looks complicated, how do you know if it adapts to it needs or not?" Marinette sits next to him, interested in the project. She know he is the CEO of Wayne Enterprise and every division in the company, but seeing the work he does is something different. "If you have to go through those kinds of projects and take care of other tasks, i'm not surprised that you're so sleep deprived"

"Well, the demand is analyzed first." Open another file of the works of the sector where the new project is directed. "Here, the work of the machinery must meet the standards in relation to the pace of work and the climate, considering that it wants to deliver a specific model for working on coasts. This is only to increase efficiency and allow a slightly longer time frame between maintenances. Metals corrode with greater speed and, sometimes, the weather is so bad that it avoids correct maintenance; storms in mid-spring flood the ports. fairly frequently and parts need to be replaced more frequently This new model should allow greater resistance to these conditions. "

"Interesting, and are you always watching projects?"

"Not all projects, Wayne Biotechnology projects do not review this way, it is not my area. It's usually the manager of the division who presents new projects to the board. However, I still have to review other aspects of all the divisions of the company and that includes them all…"

"It's still a lot of work, is it that heavy or do you overload yourself?" Marinette inquires with playful curiosity, Tim shifts nervously.

"A little of both?"

"Oh.So, you need a better coffee. ”She takes the liberty of trying the one she is drinking. "It's still very light. I will share with you my winning recipe, it has kept me up for an entire week with one hour of daily sleep. "

Marinette gets up and moves in the kitchen as if she were the owner of the place, looking for what she needs. Seeing the coffee, she is surprised.

"Black Insomnia?"

"I can only have one cup a week, Alfred thinks it's going to kill me if I drink it every day. I have made an agreement, he doesn't tell me anything about not sleeping and I comply with taking it once a week."

"It's totally valid. " Marinette laughs and puts the coffee back in its place. "Whiskey. It will come handy. "

"What?" Tim watches the girl open the bottle to smell her, it's one of the ones Alfred confiscated from Jason a week ago. "Why Whiskey?"

"Other flavor, vodka is better, but I can work with this. Do you have mint?"

Tim remains dubious as he watches her work with the most random ingredients he could think of for a coffee, also yogurt? He won't question it, but was France so strange?

A few minutes later Marinette hands him a cup.

"It has less caffeine than a regular cup, but the energy it provides is much greater. If you drink one cup per hour, with this you only need one to run at least four. It's magical, come on, don't see it like that. ”She pouts and he decides to take it.

"It is safe? I don't think Alfred is happy that you murder me with coffee."

"I think Damian would have a party."

"Oh, the demon's ally. Since I didn't see it coming, I gave you my trust and that's how you pay me. "

They both laugh, Tim finally trying the coffee. He will give she points for the taste, he don't even feel that it has alcohol and ultimately he feel more alive than a moment ago. He can continue working.

They both stay in the kitchen, Tim works until five in the morning. Marinette fell asleep at one point in that time and he settled her in such a way that when he falls asleep she is his pillow. The sad thing is that not even putting together the hours of sleep of both can they add up to three.

Alfred enters deciding to wake up the teenagers, the plane will leave in two hours and they must prepare. Tim looks for his cup of coffee and has finished it, he doesn't want to move.

"Now, Master Tim. Be a responsible boy and they'll go change. ”Marinette is barely aware of her surroundings as she is dragged into the rooms by Tim, but neither is he does.

Neither of them fully records what happens, except getting to a bed and going back to sleep. Totally out of combat. When they are close to leaving, Bruce doesn't even know what think on seeing the two young sleeping like corpses, dressed exactly the same as the day before.

"Chloe, help Marinette get ready. Dick, help Tim. We're leaving in ten minutes. ”The two mentioned only look at each other in panic before running to wake up the dead.

Marinette barely registers, feeling terribly drained now that all the effort from the day before is building up. He could sleep a thousand years if he were allowed to. They get ready in record time and move to the airport, for the only thing Marinette is aware of is to her luggage, being that she hugs it and when she asks, she murmurs: I love this suitcase, but don't tell my other suitcases, they get angry. No one says anything except for Jason's small laugh and a snort from a more sleepy than awake Tim who responds: who will tell them? No one knows them. Jason breaks down after that and laughs out loud.

Richard regrets not having recorded the most hilarious conversation he has ever witnessed, he has heard his little brother say inconsistent things in his sleep deprivation, but seeing an exchange is something very different. And it's so funy.

And they spend hours on the plane, Marinette basically asleep on Tim while he seems to melt in the seat. Richard took lots of photos every time they moved. By the time they get to Paris, they are both more awake.

Chloe smiles at her city, excited for what awaits all the bastards who left them behind. Maybe it is justice for everyone else, but for her it's revenge and she wants to see them suffer for hurting them both.

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

Thanks for reading!

#timari #Timinette #tim x marinette #marinette x tim #maribat #bustier salt #ml x dc

372 notes · View notes

drawingsanddrabbles · 7 years

Text

Joke’s On You

betaed by @ilovebeingintroverted

The one you’ve all been waiting for...

Chapter Five: Riddle Me This

links

It had been a mistake, saving Tamara Fox. Nothing against Tam, but Tim had shown himself. They were onto him. He knew they would be, eventually. After the Gazette headline Tim knew that Bruce would look into him, but Damian… he hadn’t counted on Damian. Bruce, he could fake out until he had finished his goal, Damian he couldn’t.

He had to assume that they knew everything.

He had to assume they’d already gone to Ra’s, interrogated Harley, Ivy, Vale, and anyone else he spoke to. He had to assume that they knew he was after the Joker and that he was living in the downtown area—that meant he had to move. He had to assume that they would be at least one step ahead of him, which meant he had to be more careful.

The larger mistake had been being seen by Robin—Jason. Jason Todd. Jason Todd, street kid extraordinaire who had only been known for lifting hubcaps. Jason Todd, the most opposite of a blue blood possible. Jason Todd. And somehow, Damian had avoided killing him.

Damian had seen Tim not once but twice. Tim was slipping, he was slipping bad.

Chances were Damian wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

Tim took a breath and stumbled into his hotel room. He’d have to leave it soon, he’d have to move, re-vet a new place. He’d have to reinvent his entire plan, he’d need to be careful and he’d need more information. He’d need to begin killing to send a message to anyone who knew the Joker that he was serious, that he wouldn’t stop. And all of this would in turn would make Bruce want to find and arrest him more.

He was in a lose-lose situation. He needed to think this over again.

Tim missed being dead.

Slowly he stood and packed. His singular backpack was stuffed to the brim and he didn’t have room for his laptop, if he wore his Red Hood outfit he would be able to carry it but he didn’t necessarily want to. The Red Hood carried too much attention right now for casual walking. Tim grabbed his stained hotel provided pillowcase and stuffed the remainder of his things in there. It was time to move.

He kept to backstreets and alleys, dodging cameras until he was a good amount of space away from his previous hotel. Then he looked for a new squat. But he was out of the cheap part of town (not that there was only one, but they were far away from where he was). Tim checked his money, enough for three nights in a decent hotel but he’d need to rob a bank or magically find the Joker to make it worth it. Maybe he could bunk in a shelter for a night? Nah, he couldn’t risk it with his abundance of contraband, plus the Red Hood helmet. Sewers? Nah, the smell could draw attention or tip the Bats off. Looked like decent-esque hotel it was.

The new hotel room didn’t have a TV, but it did have a shower, which was nice. Tim used that commodity then stole some complimentary supplies (you know, shampoo bottles, soap, toilet paper) and told the front desk that he needed some, which they gave without question. Then Tim fell into bed, clothes and all, and slept. Or, at least, dreamt.

Green, burning liquid. It filled his nostrils and felt like suns. The fire that burned crawled into every orifice, his mouth, the corners of his eyes, his ass. He saw his life flash before his eyes, Kon smiling; Cassie tackling him in a hug; his father; Steph and his first kiss; the moment he figured out that Damian was Robin; his mom dying; the first time he walked into Titans Tower. Tim screamed. He felt his bruises and broken bones heal, painfully. Each sliver of bone, each ruptured blood vessel, slowly reforming, slowly stitching together. It dragged through him, every movement felt and full of pain. His heart finally began to beat. Faster. Faster. Faster. Blood rushed through him, adrenaline, serotonin, dopamine. He could feel his body inflate, no not inflate, that’s called a breath. He was breathing. It felt like so long ago and so little ago at the same time. He was breathing. He was-

“You okay there, Boy Blunder? You’ve got a little something,” the crowbar hit his ribs, crushing them into his chest, “on,” the crowbar rose again and this time it hit his eyebrow, cutting into it, “your,” Tim tried to roll over but the Joker kicked him in the stomach, making him curl into the fetal position, “face!” And then the Joker laughed, that maniacal laugh that made Tim want to hurl. And he did a little, hurl, bile that crawled out of his mouth, dripping from his slightly open mouth.

“Aw, c’mon Babybird! Smile,” The Joker said, a grin on his face, “you’re going to meet your maker! Ahahahaha!”

Tim gasped awake, air filling his lungs. He clutched at his sheets, eyes squeezed shut. He ignored the phantom pains, he ignored the memories that flashed before his eyes, running around in his head. Think of something else-anything else! Tim urged himself, trying to scrounge up anything he could to distract his mind.

After an amount of time he couldn’t count and after an amount of memories he’d rather not remember he pried his eyes open. Light, vague light that glowed from behind a covered window. That meant it was probably morning. A new day, a new chance to run around the city looking for the Joker. Sometimes he missed having more than one thing to obsess over.

“Good afternoon, Damian.”

“Afternoon, Maya. Did you find anything?”

“Not much, you are asking about the Assassins. That being said…”

“You did find something.”

“There’s no bounty on this guy.”

“So?”

“A connection with the League, no bounty, and a group of assassins after him.”

“You… didn’t tell me that last bit.”

“Friends in low places.”

“Besides me? I’m offended, Maya.”

Damian almost heard her smile from the other end of the phone. “Need me to get the team together? If this involves your Grandfather…”

“No. This is something I need to deal with on my own.”

“Because that always works out well.”

“If I wanted sarcasm I’d-“

“Take it like a Superhero.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. Maya laughed from the other side. “You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

“I am never cute.”

“My bad, of course.” There was a pause. “Fine. Three days and then I call them in.”

“Three days.” Damian agreed. He hung up. Damian checked the clock, one sixteen in the afternoon. He had exactly seventy-two hours before his friends would descend upon him and his ‘Red Hood’ problem like a flock of vultures to the first carrion seen in months. Maybe a little less hostile though… You never knew.

Jason was at school but it was Friday which meant that he would be free for the weekend, then again, he was grounded. Stephanie was at physical therapy and would be for another couple hours. Alfred was doing errands until he would need to pick up Stephanie, Cassandra was with him, she liked spending time with the butler. Bruce was supposed to be at work, but he probably wasn’t. All of that left the Cave empty and gave Damian some privacy so he went downstairs to brainstorm.

Both Damian and his father wanted to keep the Red Hood problem contained to Gotham and in the family, but once his three days were up that small amount of privacy would be gone. As much as Damian didn’t want to admit it, he and Bruce wouldn’t be able to cover the ground they would want to without help. He would have to brief Stephanie.

But as for now, he could do some things. Damian typed his passcode into the computer and began to search for League sightings. If there was no bounty but the League was sending members, that meant either assassination or extraction. It also meant that it was personal for the League, they didn’t want anyone beating them to the punch.

Which meant that was exactly what Damian had to do. He had to beat them to the punch.

Damian began running facial recognition software on every camera in town, in real time. He set an alert for when the computer found its target, and synced his suit to the computer so it would notify him. He suited up, and left a note for Alfred.

Gone hunting. Might be back for dinner. Took the plane. - D. Wayne

Damian figured that following up with Vicki Vale about her claim of meeting the Red Hood might be a good place to start. She was currently at her office. She wouldn’t mind if he popped in to see her. He parked the plane outside her window and climbed onto the roof of the flying vehicle. He watched as the people in the desks beside her stood and began to speak, gesticulating wildly behind the glass. He tapped on the window patiently. Vicki Vale raised her head slowly, and turned around in her chair. She smirked on the other side of the glass and Damian lowered himself so that he was sitting on the roof of his vehicle, legs curled up beneath him, the picture of nonchalance. He knew it annoyed her. The redhead crossed her arms and her legs, eyebrow raised. Damian continued to wait until someone hesitantly walked up to her, eyes never leaving Nightwing, and murmured something that Damian lip-read as ‘aren’t you going to let him in?’ Damian continued to stare at the reporter. Vicki mused the point before relenting and standing. She opened the window and waved a hand, inviting him in.

“Took you guys long enough, I figured you’d show up five minutes after the paper went out. Going to stay out there and pout?” She asked.

“Miss Vale.” Damian acknowledged, not answering her question. “May we talk privately?”

Vicki Vale rolled her eyes. “Depends, can I get an exclusive?”

“No.”

“Can I get a quote at least?”

“If I say no, will you quote me anyway?”

“Yes.”

Damian stood and held out a hand. Vale looked confused, but took it and Damian pulled her onto the roof of the plane. He sat again once he had made room on the roof for her to do the same. “We-we’re not going to land? Or go inside?”

“No.” Damian cracked a smirk. “Why? Scared?”

Vale firmed her jawline and sat with him. “No. Of course not.” She warily lowered herself, matching his cross-legged pose. “So, why are you here Nightwing? Isn’t Bludhaven your town?”

“Family business.” He answered. He saw her hand move to the pocket in her suit pants, she was recording this. “What did the Red Hood say to you?”

“Is that the family business?”

“What did the Red Hood say to you?”

“Nothing.”

“He’s looking for the Joker. Why?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.” Vale puffed out her chest. She wasn’t… proud, was she?

Damian narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t tell him where the Joker was, did you?”

“I don’t know where the Joker is.” Something in her eyes, they seemed to gleam.

Why would Vicki Vale be proud if she didn’t know any of the answers to Damian’s questions? The answer was simple, she was lying. Not about the Joker… no, something else. Something she wasn’t telling him. What wouldn’t she tell him? What did a reporter pride over helping a vigilante?

A story.

Vale would never risk that. And if Red Hood had promised her one… “You won’t help me.” Damian stated.

Vale blanched. “W-what? No! Why wouldn’t I help you?”

“You know why. If you won’t help me, then I’m leaving.”

“Nightwing-!”

“Get off my plane.”

Vale frowned, but stood. “You’re making a mistake. Whatever you guys are going to do… it’s a mistake.”

“Is that your official opinion?” Damian asked, not caring what the answer was. He helped Vale back across to her office building.

“Nightwing, let him be. He isn’t hurting anyone.” She begged.

Yet. Damian didn’t respond. An assassin who left the League and ended up in Gotham, wow that sounded familiar. But this guy wasn’t Damian, and this guy didn’t have the Batman for a father, that meant that he would slip, and it would terrify Gotham. He dropped into the plane, and sped off.

The Red Hood had offered her a story. That meant that he wanted what he was going to do involving the Joker to be known, and he wasn’t concerned about privacy. Why would Ra’s want the world to know about the Red Hood? What was he planning? And yet… None of this fit. The team after the Red Hood, the absence of a bounty, that all pointed to anonymity. If Ra’s didn’t want the underworld to know, why would he care about Red Hood making a news story? Unless… no. But it was the only way it made sense. The Red Hood was a defector, and the assassins were going to kill him. Damian needed to find the Red Hood. Now.

The bar was dingy at best, a health hazard at worst. Tim ran his fingers over the glass of water in front of him, drawing squiggles in the condensation. He’d been all over town, and since Harley had been locked up, he had no leads on the Joker. He’d checked all the usual haunts, arcades; playgrounds; amusement parks; comedy clubs. Nothing out of the ordinary on any of them. But they weren’t all that were dead ends.

The bar he was currently in was one of the infamous Villain Bars. Henchmen, groupies, anyone looking for a villain could usually find one in one of these places. Mad Hatter and Firefly chatted in a corner booth. Black Mask’s men had commandeered a handful of tables for a poker tournament. Tweedledee and Tweedledum were drunkenly conspiring on bar stools.

“Hey! Bartender! Turn it up!” Someone shouted.

Tim glanced up. The henchman in question had been talking about the TV, on which was the news. The anchor was talking about a recent breakout. “-since the Batman brought her in yesterday. Five guards have been reported dead so far, four have been injured, including a psychiatrist. The perpetrator of the breakout has not yet been deter-“

Harley Quinn had been broken out of prison. Interesting, usually the Joker let her stew for a little while. He had needed her out. Why…?

“-so we’ll need a giant wooden horse!”

“Nah, won’t work. The carpenter we get all of our woodwork from is busy on a big project.” Firefly mumbled.

“Damn! Doing what? I wanted to plan this for next week!”

Firefly shrugged and took a swig of whatever brown liquid he was drinking. “Dunno, something really secret, though. Wouldn’t tell me how much they was being paid either so I couldn’t double it to get what I wanted.”

Tim stood and moved closer to them. “What’s this guy’s name?”

They looked at Tim accusingly. Good thing he didn’t have his mask on or they’d never speak to him, not after he had began his vigilante activities. “Who the hell are you?”

“This guy, what’s his name?”

“Why do you care?” Because it’s a secret in Gotham. Tim raised an eyebrow.

“Why do you?” Mad Hatter and Firefly exchanged glances. “We’re Gotham villains, aren’t we? We network.”

“Her name. Jenna Duffy.” Mad Hatter corrected. “But she’ll give you nothin’. She don’t care ‘bout bribin’.”

“I’ll see about that. Thanks.”

Maybe not a dead end after all.

Jenna Duffy worked in an abandoned lumber warehouse. The original workshop had processed wood for wood chips in playgrounds. Now Jenna used it for whatever she needed. And right now she was carving a… very large stick? Tim made himself comfortable in the rafters, mask over his face. She sanded the oblong stick, brown corkwood. Lightweight. The stick was maybe five feet long, and rather thin. Hmm… What was she making?

Wait… were those ridges?

Duffy was carving ridges into the top, sanding them down, measuring then carving again. She was fitting it for something, but what?

“Is it done yet?” Someone called from just out of sight. The voice was high-pitched but male.

“Soon. I finish the sanding then the glaze, and then we just have to put the two together.” Nygma? Why was the Riddler involved?

“Good! The game is afoot!” There was a giggle from him. There was a door that clanged shut.

“I know you’re up there, whoever you are. C’mon down.” Jenna Duffy called. Damn, did everyone know when Batsy was spying on them and just not tell him? Red Hood dropped down.

“How did you…?”

“I usually say that every four minutes.” Duffy said surprised. “Didn’t expect anyone to actually be there. Who are you?”

“The Red Hood, you’re making that for the Riddler? Why?”

“Not making this for the Riddler, he’s just today’s check in.”

“Why are you being so helpful?”

She shrugged. “Didn’t pay to keep my mouth shut. Anyway you’re one of those Bats right?”

“No.”

“But you still fight the underworld and stuff. I helped Bats once.”

“That’s nice.”

“Mmhm, I’m guessing you’re looking for the Joker, and if Nygma ain’t my employer then you’re wondering who is.”

“You didn’t take the Firefly’s job and he offered to pay you double.”

“I’m not giving up this job, but that doesn’t mean I have carpenter/commissioner confidentiality.”

“So, are you going to tell me?”

“Depends, got the money?”

“What’s your price?”

“Bad thing to ask. Don’t you haggle?”

Tim looked around, seeing what she valued. She had plenty of people to hire her, plenty of tools, what would she value? What did she need? “How about dinner of your choice?” Who didn’t like free food?

She raised an eyebrow. “Hitting on me? Really?”

“Not hitting on you. I’m offering to buy you dinner.”

She stopped working to consider. “Take out. Chinese. Place four blocks down from here.”

“Anything particular?”

“How ‘bout one of everything?”

“You’re the boss.”

“Damn right.” She said with a smile and went back to working. Dinner was ready in a couple hours and Tim officially needed to hack an ATM on the way home. He dropped the four bags of take out on the worktable next to her giant stick.

“Food. Now information.”

“Harley Quinn.” She mumbled, something stuck in her mouth.

“You’re kidding, she’s only been out of jail for like, four hours.” She took whatever it was out and tweaked one last thing with it.

“Before she was in jail. Then I got check-ups, then she got out, then you caught up to speed.” She pulled off her gloves and washed her hands before hopping onto a table and taking out a box of something. She pulled out some chopsticks and began eating.

“What’re you building for her?”

“A new mallet, only it has to look like a gavel.”

“A… gavel?”

“Mhm. She even made me use corkwood because it’s made out of similar materials as gavels, like in courts. The thing is built to balance her weight and her height.” She glanced up from her food. “Why?”

“No reason.” Why would Harley Quinn want a gavel? “Thanks.”

“Don’t want to stay and help me finish all of this?”

“I’ve… got plans.”

“Ah.” Jenna Duffy didn’t look very disappointed though.

“Don’t mention this to anyone, please.”

“And why would I do that?” She asked. Tim brushed a hand over one of his hidden guns. She revealed information easily, she’d helped Bruce before. It wouldn’t be hard to get her to tell him about this, and she thought Tim was a good guy she’s probably think she was helping by informing Batman. Tim would have to kill her. He’d have to-

“I bought you dinner.”

She continued to eat. Tim’s hand tightened on his weapon. “See you around Red Hood.” She said softly.

Tim let his gun go. He couldn’t do it. He had to trust her, or he had to find the clown before Batman found him. “Doubt it.” Red Hood walked away.

“I see you have returned, Master Damian.” Alfred said as he prepared the table for dinner. “Will you be joining Master Todd, and Miss Cain for dinner?”

“Father and Stephanie aren’t home yet?”

“They are, they are both in the cave, but since Master Jason is grounded Miss Cassandra has volunteered to stay home tonight to keep him company.”

“Stephanie isn’t enough?”

“The rules of being grounded have not changed since you were grounded, Master Damian. As you well know Jason is not allowed in the Cave.”

“I do not believe I will be here for dinner. Thank you, Pennyworth.” Damian walked down to the cave.

The Cave was filled with the sounds of training. Stephanie beat up dummies under Bruce’s watchful eye. She stopped after demolishing one and throwing it into the pile of to-be-repaired dummies which Alfred would probably have to fix, unless Bruce wanted to punish Jason even more.

“Damian, have fun hunting?” Stephanie asked through heavy breaths. She took a swig of water from a bottle and wiped sweat from her brow.

“Not particularly. Couldn’t find him anywhere.”

“Who were you searching for? You never said in your note.”

“I actually wanted to talk to the two of you about that.” Damian crossed his arms over his chest and Steph and his father exchanged a look. “Maya got back to me. Grandfather is after the Red Hood, and he wants to kill him for deserting.”

Steph’s blue eyes widened. “Maya got all of that?”

“Not exactly.” Damian explained his thought process and his plan to the two of them, his father’s stoic face stayed the same but Stephanie, as always, was as expressive as she wished to be.

“Are you insane? We’re not going to kidnap an ex-assassin and hold him in the Cave until your gramps’s cronies go somewhere else!”

“Why not? If they do find him here, which they will, there will be war in Gotham. You don’t want that, do you?”

“So we endanger ourselves then? We endanger Jason and Cass?”

“We endanger them every day.”

“Not by sticking them with an assassin!” Damian scowled and Steph quickly backpedaled. “I’m- I mean, not one that’s dangerous. Not that you’re not-look, they know you, you’re different.”

“The Red Hood is better than I was.” Damian said flatly. “He’s a hero here.”

“As of now.” Bruce added unhelpfully.

“I wasn’t even close. He deserves our help. How is he any different than I was?”

Stephanie and Bruce exchanged looks. “He’s not.” Bruce agreed. He glanced from Damian to Stephanie. “Suit up. Stephanie, call up to Alfred: Robin and Batgirl will join us.” Steph sent the message to the butler on her phone and a few seconds later Jason and Cass were running down the Cave stairs.

“Really, Old Man? Gave up on grounding me so quickly?” Jason called.

“We have a case, we need manpower. After that you’re still grounded and we’re still talking.” Bruce snapped. Jason rolled his eyes and pulled his Robin tunic over his head. Cass grinned and pulled her mask over her face.

He was so stupid. So very, very stupid. It all made sense now, the gavel, the secrecy. He was doing something big, something bigger than shooting Batgirl, something bigger than killing the Robin. What was bigger than that? Tim ran through the city to where the Joker had to be. The only place that made sense—Tim had ignored the location originally because it had been a four line blurb in a newspaper (the same Gazette that had announced the Red Hood’s appearance, funnily enough) but with the gavel… it made sense. A courthouse had recently been closed down, it was meant to have renovations but then the city had lost funding and it had never been completed, it stood in the center of Gotham abandoned.

There was only one thing larger than killing Robin and shooting Batgirl, and it wasn’t a what. It was a who.

Tim knew what the Joker was going to do, and he couldn’t let that happen. Gotham may not have needed him, but Gotham did need the Batman.

The explosion stopped him in his tracks. It had been maybe four blocks away from the courthouse. He could make it, he could still go to the courthouse and then he could go to the explosion site. He still could-

“Yo! Reddy!” Tim swiveled his head. Harley Quinn, he was starting to dislike her. She hefted her mallet (not the one that was the prop for the Joker’s latest scheme) over her shoulder. “You figured it out, huh? You even figured it out before Batsy! You’re impressive.” She sighed. “Too bad I’m about to kill you. You won’t even get to see Puddin’s latest plan! Which is sad, ‘cuz it’s a good one. But you already know that.”

Another explosion.

“How’s about I make you a deal, you leave us alone and we kill ya after we kill the big bad Bat?”

Tim reached for his gun. Harley jumped at him, weapon swinging. Tim dodged and pulled his gun. He would shoot. He would do it. He would-there were screams from where there had been the explosion. He hesitated. “You gonna go save people, hero?” Harley asked. Tim grit his teeth but left, running to the explosion site.

He arrived to people screaming, police alarms blaring, a villain cackling, the usual. After a quick glance around he saw that there was no Dynamic Duo (or trio, technically with that Cass girl around, and Damian, too, so he guessed that made it the Dynamic Quartet) around. That left him free to bring down this villain on his own. Good. He could use the exercise.

It took Tim a minute to separate the hench-flunkies from the screaming bystanders. The Red Hood jumped into the fray, batons out. He struck one of the ones with a question mark on his shirt in the stomach before hitting him on the back of the head. So it was the Riddler, great.

“Riddle me this, Red Hood!” Edward Nygma crowed from his spot standing on the top of a car in the middle of the chaos. Tim moved on the other cronies, there was another explosion and Tim ducked from the blaze behind a blaring car. Damn these shock-activated car alarms. This was all a distraction, Nygma was in on the Joker’s plan, so this had to be a distraction. But why? Just so that Tim would give them a handful more hours? Tim glanced up and looked around, shrapnel, screaming, fire… blood. That was blood. Tim ran to the site, ignoring the way that his mask heated from the flames. Someone was screaming for help, where were they? Where were they? More screaming.

“I’m coming!” Tim shouted, ducking under an empty car frame. “I’m coming!”

“Please!” The person shouted. “It’s my child!” Tim was glad for the lenses in the mask, they blocked dust from his eyes. The child was half burnt, his face black and blistered, his clothes were embedded in his skin, pus leaked from his stomach and Tim was sure those were intestines.

“Have you called nine-one-one?” Tim asked at the woman. She nodded, face streaked with tears.

“Th-they’re backed u-up.” She sobbed.

Tim took a pulse from the non-burnt side. Dead. Too much damage, too much time, he was too late. “I’ll make the man who did this pay.” Tim promised.

“W-what? What do you mean? Do you mean he’s-“

“I do. But I’ll avenge him.”

“I don’t want him avenged!” The woman cried, kneeling by her son. “I want him alive!” She held her child’s body to her chest, sobbing profusely.

“Avenged will have to do.”

Tim ran back into the fray. The Riddler continued to laugh uncontrollably. Tim saw a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye and ducked, a Batarang hissed over his head, hitting an oncoming question-mark-flunkie and knocking him down. Tim gave him a kick to the face and grabbed the weapon flinging it at another one of the numerous henchmen. Nightwing took out one of the other ones and nodded to Tim briefly before flinging another batarang. Great, the Dynamic Name-A-Number were here.

“Nice to finally meet you.” So he didn’t know that Tim knew. Good to know. Tim didn’t respond. There was a ticking sound and a black box with blinking red lights landed five feet beside them. They jumped behind the remnants of a mailbox and covered their ears as the bomb went off. “We need to talk.”

“Busy.” Tim snapped at Nightwing. Tim’s hand felt something matted but soft. He glanced at what he’d touched; a chill ran down his back. A black fingerless glove with a stylized R on the front, half of the golden emblem was discolored with wet blood. Fresh blood. He’d warned her. He’d warned her. Movement next to him shook him from his momentary grief. Damian Wayne’s alter ego peeked out from behind the mailbox and took a tear gas pellet from his belt and threw it at the Riddler, who coughed his way off of the vehicle he was standing on.

“Obviously not now.”

“Don’t want to talk to you.”

“Look, I understand. The League is after you but-“ Wait, what? Since when was the League after him? Tim dodged to the side of a spray of bullets (one of the henchies had somehow gotten his hands on a gun) and he whacked the guy with his baton while the man tried to unjam his weapon. Tim disarmed the gun and sidestepped another who was coming at him with a steering wheel. “-we can join forces, fight the League of Assassins together.” Yeah, right.

“Hey Batman!” The Riddler shouted. “Riddle me this! What type of bird dies two out of three times?” Bruce and his Batgirl were helping injured people get to safety. Jason Todd fought off some of the Riddler’s helpers (a little too gleefully), and Nightwing was too far away. Tim was the only one who saw the bomb. He saw the Riddler throw it and he saw Jason gloss over it while he fought. Jason was too close, and he was preoccupied. He hadn’t seen it.

No. Not again. Not on Tim’s watch. Robin wouldn’t die.

He was risking everything, everything he knew, everything he worked for for days, it would all end. But Tim would be saving his life. Tim would be saving Robin’s life.

Tim jumped, crying out Jason’s name to get his attention. The two of them tumbled to the ground rolling as far as they could from the momentum. Tim curled around the younger boy, he could hear his shallow breathing, his whispering words of confusion. Tim squeezed his eyes shut. The Riddler cried his punchline: “A Robin!” He laughed, that stupid Arkham brand laugh that every villain in Gotham seemed to have. Then the bomb went off.

#diana writes #diana writes batman #diana writes dc #robin!reversal #tim drake #damian wayne #joke's on you

1 note · View note