Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Quickly her hand brushed away the tear forming at the corner of her eye before returning to the frayed edge of the blue fabric held by her other hand. A smile formed as her finger lightly dragged across the threads as memories flashed of the times the shirt was worn.

The memories she had were of the good times. The first time he’d put the uniform on and stood proudly in their living room on the coffee table, his chest puffed out unnaturally to showcase the family crest. Trying to seem as if he wasn’t looking for his father’s approval, instead like he was certain he already had it. Or the time he tried to stand still as she sewed the pieces together after a battle which had caused him no harm, but the suit had suffered a rip which caused her son to panic as if injured. Thinking, as most young boys did, it would be enough for his mother to forbid him from even leaving his room again.

All memories of the sweet moments for Superboy, because Lois Lane had never been able to join her son and husband when they’d fought. For most of the battles, she was limited to watching on the television with most other viewers or sitting at work biting her fingernails as she waited for news on the battles not known by the majority of the world. There was a little bit of lingering bitterness at the fact, especially considering before her pregnancy she’d found herself included frequently in the middle or at least outskirts of the fights. Perhaps for the best though, for unlike her husband who of course she worried about when he fought, if she’d watched her son fight she’d likely have found her way to an early grave from a heart attack brought by her anxiety.

Holding the shirt up once more she took in the size and smiled bittersweetly to know her baby would never fit in something so small again, every day he looked more and more like her husband and his brother, filling out in both mass and height to become a man. Her baby would not be Superboy for much longer, a fact Lois Lane would soon have to accept or risk becoming ‘that mother.’

Carefully she folded the uniform and placed it back into the locked box Jon kept under his bed, a chest filled with memorabilia from his childhood to present. As she placed it down, she pushed her hand upon it as if accepting its place in the box of memories and the pressure caused paper to crinkle under it. Paper which had not been there the last time she’d snooped through the box.

Curious, she pulled the old uniform aside to catch the edge of a small stack of magazines. Lois pulled her hand back as if she’d just been caught with it inside the cookie jar. Which to be honest was almost exactly what was happening, aside from the being caught part. Jon knew she was aware of his passcode; he’d been the one to share it, and he knew she often visited memory lane but perhaps he thought she did not frequent his mementos nearly as often as she did. It was the only explanation she could come up with as to why he would hide such magazines in that particular box.

Like all mothers, despite knowing confirmation might be worse than simply thinking, she quickly looked around the room to ensure she was alone. As if a snake would strike with venom when uncovered, she pushed the uniform and the blanket beneath away slowly at the corner. When the large white letters of the title were uncovered, the wrinkle on her forehead deepened as she queried what she was seeing, unaware of a magazine with a title that started with those letters. Deciding to rip off the band-aid, she quickened her efforts.

But she was forced to turn when the magazine was finally exposed with the appearance of her ever-loving husband.

Clark walked into the room, concern causing his body to be tensed as if prepared for a fight. “What’s wrong?” When his eyes traveled around her body and settled on her hands which she held behind her back as if they contained something, he seemed to relax.

Lois could kick herself; she’d lived with the man for almost two decades. Stumbling upon the magazines undoubtably caused a shift in her heart rate, drawing the attention of her husband to her questionable behavior.

“Nothing,” she lied. Trying, but likely failing, to give an air of indifference by settling the uniform over the magazine once more. Lamenting the lost opportunity as she closed the chest, lifting it with the intention of returning it under the bed.

Clark smiled then, a mischievous glint in eyes as he walked over to place his hand on the box to prevent the action.

“Find something of interest,” he joked, able to read his wife after so many years of marital bliss.

Quicker than she could process, the chest was reopened, and he was looking down at the contents with his own curiosity. Not wanting to embarrass her son by admitting what she saw she stayed quiet, staying behind her husband instead of indulging her own curiosity. Acting, she hoped, as if there was nothing to be found.

The rustle of papers caused her eyes to snap to the back of Clark’s head, knowing he’d finally discovered the same thing she did. Smiling she knew he would quickly cover the magazines to keep from having the uncomfortable conversation with his wife. It had happened once before when Conner had come to live with them. After the first girl was brought home it was agreed it was Clark’s domain. She was supposed to be allowed to believe her sons were still sweet innocent babies and Clark was never to betray that illusion.

So, it was a little weird when he lifted the magazine out of the box and began to thumb through the first one. WITH HIS WIFE RIGHT THERE. The outrage was completely replaced by hurt as he hummed in appreciation, causing her to lash out and lightly shove his shoulder from behind. “Hey!”

“What?” He turned with a look of innocence, one which came naturally as it did with their son, an unfortunate inheritance. Lois looked away from his face as she realized the magazine was still open with the cover exposed for her to finally see.

Grabbing the magazine from Clark’s hand, she flipped quickly through the pages to make sure it wasn’t a fake. Needless to say, each page proved it wasn’t, in her hand was a copy of a French fashion magazine with Adrien Agreste on the cover.

Unsure what to make of it, her head flipped up to her husband to find an explanation. There wasn’t one there as her husband was already immersed in a second magazine, flipping through the pages with his lip pinched and his head bobbing every so often as if appreciating the images he was seeing.

Despite being a journalist, fashion magazines were not her forte, but she was aware enough to know nothing should have caused such a reaction from her husband. Nothing except for perhaps a hidden copy of the type of magazine she’d first suspected. Reigniting her ire.

Quickly, although nowhere near as quickly as her husband or son, she moved around him to look over his shoulder. The movement was awkward to begin with and what she saw caused her to trip. The descent to the floor was both graceless and flailing.

In the Kent household no one ever fell to the ground though, not when super speed could prevent it. Like so many times before she found herself in Clark’s arms, his face looking down at her with a soft smile before kissing her as he returned her to the upright position.

Knowing what had caused her stumble, her husband handed her the copy he was perusing. She flipped it open to one of the pages finding images of Adrien modeling clothing from his father’s past collection. Most people were aware of Adrien Agreste, in America he wasn’t as well-known without the television spots, but his father had purchased ads in the American media, making his face recognizable as he was one of the few youth models for young girls to idolize. Since learning of his connection with Bruce’s daughter Lois ensured she was even more familiar with him.

Undeniably he was an attractive young man who would grow up to be a gorgeous heartthrob, but no competition to her Jon of course. Made obvious by the photos taped next to the images of Adrien.

Blue tape held down pictures of her son in similar poses as his new friend. If not for the fact they were taped down with their edges lifted she might have thought them apart of the magazine itself. Flipping through the pages she found several such photos, leading her to believe her son was attempting to compete with his love rival.

At least that was her thought up to the point where the images were no longer of him alone, but of Jon and Adrien together.

The solo images started with outfits Lois recognized as being a part of Jon’s limited clothing collection, but when they started to pair together their clothes looked complimentary, ones she did not recognize as Gabriel's stuffy style or from Jon’s country closet either. By the sixth photograph it became obvious why, as Jon wore a shirt with a stylized M in place of a pocket patch.

Like a young schoolgirl she giggled. What they’d stumbled upon wasn’t quite the normal teenage stash she’d imagined, but it was reminiscent of a similar conundrum. A huge teenage crush.

As quick as the smile formed though it disappeared just as quickly with the realization Lois was currently packing her son’s room to take him into the home of said crush to reside for the school year. She was supposed to be in the dark, the image she held of her baby was supposed to remain innocent. Yet here she was offering her son’s wish gift wrapped and ensuring by the end of the year there would be no innocence left.

“Are you sure we should be sending Jon off to Gotham with everything going on? We could always let him fly to school every morning and just claim he’s residing at the manor,” she tried. Knowing she was the first to turn down an earlier suggestion of the same just a year ago.

Clark took the magazine from her hand and returned all of them to their son’s hiding place before wrapping his arms around Lois from behind. “They all leave the nest eventually,” he murmured into her ear before placing light kisses across her neck.

For some reason, totally known to her, she did not appreciate the bird metaphor. “Yes,” she rolled her eyes, “but we were supposed to have six more years.”

“Two, Lois,” he pressed another kiss to her neck, closer to her ear.

“No, six,” she turned in his arms so she could face him as she looked sternly up at him. “He may appear to be almost 17 but we both know his original birth certificate says 13.”

Arms wrapped around her waist, flipping her away again and bringing her body to meld against his. “It’s not fair, but we got him back and he’s not going anywhere. Not really, anyway. We missed a fair amount of his childhood, but he turned into an amazing young adult…and speaking of young,” he pressed a kiss to her neck, she could feel his smile grow against her, “we’re still pretty young ourselves. Could always try to expand the family again.”

Lois scoffed, slapping at her husband playfully against his chest as she turned before wrapping her arms around his neck and allowing him to lift her. With his strength it wasn’t a hard feat. 

“We are sending our son into the home of his crush, with questionable adult supervision. I am more concerned our family will be expanding that way.”

Clark’s breath caught uncomfortably as terror flashed in his eyes, before he seemed to think of something funnier than the idea of their son becoming a teenage parent. Lois’s feet returned to the ground as Clark bent over as his shoulder’s shook from his unspoken joke. Staring at him she waited for him to share, not finding anything to do with such a prospect humorous at all.

Finally, he collected himself enough to say, “well, she has been blessed by the goddess of creation.”

It was all Clark could manage before he was bending over with his hands resting upon his knees as he laughed unrestrained.

A large O formed upon her lips in outrage, but she could not help her cheeks from rising with a hint of a smile. It was funny, but also not. Lois wanted grandkids eventually, and perhaps in was Bruce’s fate to have the chosen of the Goddess of Creation who might continue the trait of a large family.

It took a minute for her husband to collect himself and pull her back close to his body. “Lois we have nothing to worry about. Though we missed some time educating him, so far he’s proven himself to be very smart. Still, we can’t ignore he is a boy of a certain age, but I’ve already had the ‘talk,’ and he knows how to take precautions. Not to mention, I’m fairly certain he loves her enough to not jeopardize her safety by putting her in that kind of position with all of the threats out against her and her family.”

The truth of his words was obvious, as well as the fact Marinette was probably smarter and definitely younger, but she still felt uneasy. “But is it a good idea to have him staying with the Waynes considering all of the threats against the family. This is different from the normal Gotham Rogues, this is not against the Bats, but the Waynes themselves.”

“It’s no different than the threats we face here in Metropolis. Plus let’s face it, that’s our future daughter-in-law, I would be there too to help protect her if doing so wouldn’t risk possibly bringing more trouble to their doorstep.”

“Somehow I always knew from the day you met Bruce our lives would forever become entangled. I guess I just never realized the different ways.” Her thoughts first went to Conner and then Jon before her eyes turned back to the box on her son’s bed and her head was filled with the image of Adrien Agreste.

“I’d hold off on designing the in-law suite in the manor just yet,” she whispered to her husband. “Your son is in love with Marinette, but we know she is in love with Adrien.”

Chapter Text

The excitement on her son’s face reminded Emilie so much of his youth. The carefree exuberance that only seemed to accompany experiencing something for the first time. Like the first-time trying ice cream, the first time standing in line to meet Père Noël, or the first time managing to ride your bike alone. Watching those first Emilie had shared a similar smile, a product of being able to be included in those moments, feeling a part of them even if she wasn’t directly involved. But for this she had a hard time smiling. This shouldn’t have been a first. It should not have been the first time Adrien was picking out his own clothing, it should not have been the first time he got to experience picking out new outfits for the school year.

Emilie lamented missing so many of her son’s first, things not often included in the baby books but almost if not more important, leaving bigger footprints in his memories. Experiences she didn’t get to witness because of the coma. So, while she was happy to once again be included in experience a first, she wasn’t happy with the fact Gabriel had denied Adrien for so long this particular one, nor where they were going to experience it.

Due to the level of theft in the city, most higher end stores chose not to conduct business within Gotham, driving those who wished for higher end merchandise to a weekend trip in New York City. Not that Emilie was stuck up in a belief that her son could only wear name brands, but it was unsettling to walk into a building that looked a year away from being condemned expecting to find clothing Adrien would like to wear.

In contrast her son skipped from where they dared to leave their car all the way to the front of the building. Or rather moved with an excitement that was ‘cool enough’ to be done by a 16-year-old.

A closer inspection of the building did nothing to alleviate her anxiety. The walls were covered with graffiti and from the reputation of the city it was safe to assume it was not the beautiful artwork street artists were welcomed to paint in designated parks in cities such as Paris and Barcelona, but stamps of gangs from their habitual turf wars.

Adrien stopped at the sliding doors waiting for his mother, holding his hand out to take her own. Emilie wasn’t sure if it was offered as he felt her hesitation or if it was a desire for the experience he missed out on for so many years. Either way she was grateful and grabbed a hold with a renewed smile firmly in place.

The automatic doors slid open and a whoosh of cold air assaulted them, welcomed after the extreme August heat. The inside was a complete contrast to the outside, with freshly waxed floors, clean white walls, and lighting which spotlighted each of the stores which lined the wide corridors between the anchors.

Right next to the entrance was a plaque which explained it all, embossed in golden letters was the name Wayne Foundation. The fund, which ensured the upkeep and security of the interior, a safe haven for those to shop and businesses to be protected from the city’s petty crimes.

Pulling her arm, Adrien dragged them to the window of the first store filled with heavily scented lotions and soaps. Both turned their noses as they passed, their senses affronted by the conflicting smells, forcing Adrien to pull them away without haste, setting a pace that even with her height her feet skipping to keep. Emilie’s smile took a childish pleasure at the antics.

Entering into the first clothing store, Emilie slowed her pace to let go of Adrien’s hand, beckoning him forward with her head. The smile on his face grew and he immediately began checking the racks, pulling items before placing them across his arm to try on later.

Following at a more tempered pace, Emilie pulled random articles. Staring at them on the rack before moving onto another. A white button-up caught her eye and she pulled it off the rack to hold it in the light, tilting it back and forth to take the craftsmanship in.

A frown developed as she realized why she’d chosen it. Narrowing her eyes she stuck her tongue out at the offending piece before returning it to the rack. Ensuring it was hidden in hopes no one would wear a similar piece ever again. At a different rack a similar colored item caught her eye, a hoodie, something Gabriel would have never allowed Adrien to wear due to its shapeless nature. Making it perfect.

Rack upon rack she pulled items she believed would look good on Adrien, staying away from similar designs she noted Gabriel had favored while she was away. While Adrien might not have associated them with such, Emilie saw such outfits akin to a prison uniform, due to the neglect and abuse her son had endured during her absence.

To think she’d ever found something she’d once called love with the man. If only she’d had Adrien prior to marrying Gabriel she would have known better. The sheltered upbringing her parents had provided prevented her from seeing what Gabriel had felt for her wasn’t love at all but fixation. Gabriel wasn’t capable of love, he was ruled instead by obsession, ones he stopped at nothing to possess and own, no matter the impact on those around him. Hence the war he was single handedly responsible for in Paris.

Emilie had believed at one point, naïvely, that was what love looked like, how it was expressed. It wasn’t until the day she created Adrien; the day she held her son and his cousin in her arms for the first time, reality finally hit, and she knew what love was.

Unfortunately, she was still blinded by Gabriel’s obsession to immediately recognize the lack of his love, nor the fact his obsession didn’t extend to her son. She didn’t recognize where it looked like he was spoiling Adrien, it was in fact a show for her. Of course, with her absence, the façade crumbled and Adrien suffered while he looked for love from a father who could never feel or give it.

A fact he had difficulty accepting, which was why Adrien chose to forget. Or at least one of the reasons he did.

Those months when Adrien was without the memories of his father and as a consequence Chat Noir and Marinette, were difficult for her. Of course she was happy to have her son, to have him free from the binds of his amok due to Marinette’s magic, as well as her own complete health and freedom from her own toxic relationship. But she could sense the void, though she shouldn’t have known differently having been separated for so long. It had felt like a physical manifestation that could not be ignored.

Adrien appeared to be everything she remembered, growing into a young man any mother would be proud of, even if he didn’t believe it to be his own choices but Gabriel’s will. But magic has a way of leaving an imprint, she knew better than most, and perhaps soul mates were a form of magic, and she was sure as she watched her son struggle, it was as if his soul knew it was missing its other half.  

Knowing exactly what pained him left her feeling guilty for having chosen a man who could treat a child as such. A man who could have her son feeling as if he had no choice for his own mental wellbeing than to make the rash and extreme decision of giving up the one he knew to be his other half.

It made her choice to give up the security she felt returning to her family to move to Gotham and give him everything he wanted, so easy. Though the city had a reputation even known across the pond in England, she prepared secretly for the day he would remember, so he could immediately find his piece again.

Still, hearing of her son’s new adventures as a vigilante of Gotham was unsettling. Knowing each night he jumped across the skyscrapers of Gotham arresting deranged individuals only found in Gotham, fought world-class ninjas a part of a secret assassins organization…it was by some grace she’d yet to turn to a vice to offer some form of comfort during the late night hours.

That grace also known as Alfred, the Wayne family butler, who came bearing gifts of bakery quality items no doubt created by Marinette. Together they enjoyed them as Alfred regaled her with stories of his family, ones which should have caused her more anxiety, yet somehow managed to put her at ease. Gave her comfort somehow in knowing unlike Paris where there was more often than not simply Chat Noir and Ladybug, here in Gotham they were supported by some of the world’s best heroes who would stop at nothing to keep her son safe.

With an arm laden with a variety of clothing Adrien returned with a bright smile. Brightening when he looked at her own arms, laughing when several items had been selected by both. Quickly without a word he sifted through the items she pulled to add to his own.

“Ready for the runway?” he joked before walking away to the row of individual dressing rooms which lined the back wall. Emilie took a seat on one of the oversized ottomans, finding it to be far from comfortable and yet she settled in with a smile on her face.

With a speed that could only belong to an international model, Adrien was out of the room posing in front of his mother in a pair of black pants and an oversized white shirt. Out of habit he was unable to stop from posing in the shirt in a way that flattered it, making it appear worth more than the price tag.

“How do I look?” he asked, his face searching for a genuine opinion.

“Top notch darling. I must say this is the most relaxed I’ve seen you look in modeling your clothing.”

Looking down, Adrien fiddled with the shirt, nodding his head in agreement. “This is the most comfortable I’ve felt in something other than what Marinette’s made for me. Do you think she’ll like it?”

If her name hadn’t been mentioned, Emilie still would have known who he was talking about. There was a level of affection present in his voice that he never had for anyone else. It was bittersweet to know Emilie had closed herself off from the possibility of ever finding something similar, not willing to risk making the same mistake of her past.

“Knowing Marinette, she will love whatever you wear, darling. Even if it’s a trash bag.”

Rolling his eyes Adrien still blushed. His first time driving a car, going to school, having friends he actually liked over, first drink, first battle, first school dance, were all memories she would never share with him. Yet, none were as missed as his first time falling in love.

From seeing the fall, the struggle of understanding it, the chase, the first date, the night after the first kiss, the first declarations of love. She’d missed them all and Gabriel had been too preoccupied with selfish desires to even notice. Instead, she’d gotten to see his first heartbreak, got to comfort him after being told he may not get a second chance, had a wee chat when he realized she was starting to care for another.

While she would have loved to see the happy moments, she was eternally grateful she could be there for him when it wasn’t. Seeing how much he’d hurt, she couldn’t imagine what may have happened if Gabriel had still been his guardian. Fortunately, he was in jail with embezzlement charges the Wayne’s had ensured would stick, with little chance of being able to see Adrien ever again, or at least not until Adrien was well into adulthood.

Adrien turned to look at the mirror, playing with the clothing though there wasn’t much to change. “I want to complement Jon’s more laid-back style, instead of being a complete contrast.”

“As long as you’re not losing who you are while trying to do so,” she said handing Adrien his orange sneakers. The one piece of the outfit his dad had designed he’d had any say in; the one contrition Gabriel had made even before her coma.

Taking the shoes from his mother he looked at her with a little bit of confusion before putting the shoes on his feet to complete the outfit. “Nah,” he said looking at himself in the mirror as if for the first time. “I’ve finally completely found myself. I just happen to find two people that complement the real me too.”

Turning with a genuine smile on his face Adrien returned to the changing room to try on his next outfit.

It was naïve to believe at sixteen he was complete, or had found what completed him. There was still so much life to live, so many experiences to still shape him into who he was going to be. Yet, she could admit that at sixteen it appeared he’d found a direction. Finally, completely making choices for himself. Perhaps she could also admit that he might have found the two people he wanted to always be with him, living the choices he makes.

While nothing had been confirmed by her son, the last few weeks he’d been happier, and her suspicions had told her it may have been due to a change in relationship status. Of course, she would wait for her son to tell her in his own time, but if she were a gambling woman she would say he was once more in a relationship with Marinette. And from the way Jon Kent’s name and presence always appeared to be a part of all the happiness, she could guess he had a role too.

As long as it made her son happy, then she was happy for it.

Movement in her bag pulled her attention from her happy thoughts. Carefully opening it she looked down to see two sets of purple eyes. Nooroo and Duusu feeling the emotions of their holder beamed up at her. Albeit temporary, Marinette had believed all three could heal better with someone they knew, someone who without a doubt cared immensely for them. Not to mention it had made Adrien feel better to know his mother had some level of protection in their new crime-ladened city.

It was something she prayed to the kwami’s she would never need them for, her protection, just as she prayed her son would only continue to know happiness.

Chapter Text

Sweat beaded around her forehead from the effort, occasionally dripping down to fall into her eyes. But Talia welcomed the stinging sensation the salt afforded, it meant she had enough water to shed for her body to continue.

With a smirk she released the bolas in her hand with a sharp flick, allowing it to wrap around her target quickly. Pulling back on the weapon it fell limp, causing her to growl out in frustration at yet another failed lasso attempt.

The bolas was a unique weapon, not often used because of its lack of lethality. An ineffective choice for those who only carried a single weapon and called themselves assassins. Which meant it had not been covered in instruction within the League of Assassins, so Talia would have to perfect the use of the weapon alone, just as her daughter had as a child.

Needless to say, the process was slow going. Having been raised with swords, the movements were foreign, but she had to get it right, it had to be perfect. Her children’s lives depended upon it.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she tried to lasso her bolas around the dummy again. A sharp pull and the dummy slid back a few feet in her direction. Luckily, Miraculous magic made the process much easier, ensuring for the most part her throw always caught if her aim was at least true and the enhanced strength ensured what she caught could be pulled, if desired, a good distance back from even her, something she could not accomplish without the suit. But she wanted the action to be from muscle memory and not magic.

While her feelings towards her father were no longer described as complicated, in short she despised him, she still had it engrained that one must be reliant on themselves, not others and definitely not magic. Even if it was quite the hypocrisy to be drilled into her by him.

Picking up the 200-pound dummy and positioning it to do once more, she turned to find Alfred standing in the doorway of the gym. In his hand a tray holding a single bottle of water.

Over the period of time she’d been in the manor, she’d watched both Bruce and the children often try to ignore such obvious ploys, only to waste time before he was successful in whatever mission he’d set. Therefore, she saw no reason to fight him and preferred to get to the point so she could continue with her training.

Walking over she took the offered water, thanking him before she began to drink. Of course, when she’d taken it she’d not intended to down the contents, but as the cool liquid slid down her throat she’d suddenly realized how parched she’d allowed herself to become. Finishing the contents too quickly, she returned the vessel to the tray, expecting him to leave directly after. Instead, he stayed, not looking at her expectantly, but the feeling was there, nevertheless.

Finally, she understood.

Growing up she’d never had someone to guide her, not in the sense of becoming a better person like most parents did. The only guidance she ever received was to become a better weapon, pawn. In her early years, Ra’s only saw her as a nuisance, a child allowed in his presence only during ceremonies to show the order’s strength and promises for the future. Only allowing her to finally stand as his right hand when he felt she could be used by him and her loyalty was unquestionable. Even then Ra’s never talked to her, never asked for an honest opinion to train her to think on her own, only ever asking how well she carried out his latest use for her,

Yu Yan came far too late in her life to guide her, but at least she became a sounding board when she realized the loyalty the nanny had for her daughter. The affection wasn’t quite there, in truth it was respect, but it was the closest Talia felt to having a mother as she would ever get.

To the Wayne family one might assume a similar relation, but it wasn’t the case, Alfred was everything. Guider, sounding board, and long stick to the back of the head when stupidity seemed to reign over common sense. A father, grandfather in every sense, even if he tried to have a sense of propriety by simply referring to himself as the butler.

Apparently for Talia, today he was going to be the stick.

Moving to grab a towel, she blotted at her forehead to not give offense, though her words would not appear to hold such reservations. “Alfred, I am not my father. You will not be killed if you say something I do not like… And I am not Bruce. I will listen if I am wrong. I’ve been told the same far too many times in my life to take offense and if I failed to listen my father would have been given a reason to have me killed. So, if you have something to say, please just say it.”

“Wanting to protect your children is never wrong Madame Talia...”

Finding the statement vague, Talia stepped away from Alfred to take a seat on one of the nearby chairs. Knowing his words were but an introduction to the lecture he wanted to give she tapped the seat next to her for Alfred to sit, watching as he hesitated at the gesture.

“If we are to have an honest conversation, we must be as relaxed as one can be, and hold ourselves as equals to say the truth without the barriers of rank politics.”

“Perhaps then we should retire to the kitchen. As you say we must be relaxed, and to accomplish that I believe tea and an inability to be interrupted is required. With Miss Marinette out with Master Jon and Master Adrien we have no reason to fear anyone else coming into the kitchens. They are banned after all.”

Talia could not help but smile at the true patriarch of the Wayne family, regarding how he so easily ruled with an iron fist, though never having to truly use it. Bruce didn’t realize how lucky he was, his life had many downs, but he had amazing influences to guide him through the darkness. If only Yu Yan or even Alfred had been present earlier in hers perhaps she would have broken free of her father’s binds much sooner, before her children were exposed to the same.

Using her head she beckoned Alfred to lead the way, taking a moment to straighten herself before following.

So far Talia had yet to find a cause to bring her to the kitchen. It was impressive, clearly large enough to cook for the social events the manor was required to hold a few times a year, but there was a sectioned off part which was personalized to Alfred’s taste for daily cooking. At the center of his domain was an old fireplace where two chairs and a table could be found.

With his head start, or more likely predicting their eventual arrival, Alfred managed to whip up two teas and a few cookies Marinette had made earlier. On the hearth of the fireplace sat a small plate of raw meat, which Roarr immediately knew to be hers and abandoned Talia without a word to devour. The two seats had pillows which were embroidered, making it very apparent as to why there were two chairs instead of one, the more faded fabric of one proving the addition being recent.

Talia sat on the new chair as she waited for Alfred to pour the tea and take his own seat. Mentally she prepared herself for the possible topics he would want to discuss.

Placing the tea pot down, he put a lump of sugar into his tea before he began. “For years that gym has been where the family loves to go and slay their dragons. Honing their crafts, believing that is the only way to prevent their dragons from slaying them.”

“But...” Talia pressed.

“The results do not meet the efforts.”

Struck by the words Talia’s teacup stopped halfway to her lips before she returned it to its saucer. Feeling as if she’d been improving her shortcomings with her bolas it was a strike against her pride to hear an outside observer had not drawn the same conclusion.

Alfred’s smile took an edge which spoke of a man knowing much, too much. “You must know Talia, your form with the bolas has grown beyond reproach, any short coming you may have will not be found in the gym but in use during your nightly activities. But like the rest, your problem lies in your working towards slaying the wrong dragon.”

Taking a sip of her tea she tried to understand. The words made sense, but his meaning wasn’t as clear. “I want to say I grasp what you are trying to say, perhaps I should. But I will not lie, despite doing so acknowledges a fault.”

Taking a sip from his tea, Alfred delayed giving an immediate response. Leaning back in his chair, his eyes displayed a tenderness she could not believe he was sharing with her.

“Why did you have Marinette? It was not to subject her to a life within the League of Assassins. I may not know you as well as the others in the manor, but I know enough to see that does not match with who you are.”

Leaning back in her own chair, Talia paused. Not because she didn’t know, but because she’d never been allowed so much time and words to explain.

“Damian was born to be the heir, never my son. That title was only given to explain how he was the heir, for appearances, few know he was actually created in a lab from our DNA and not from my body. When Bruce left, I believe my father came to believe he had to groom—for lack of a better term—an heir, for him to be what Ra’s truly desired. I was only allowed to have a part in his life as my father would not care for the day to day, only ensuring he was trained to be used as he saw fit later.”

Alfred took a sip of his tea, never breaking eye contact, giving her the attention to know her words were important, had meaning to him.

“But I wanted a child, always have. I felt this love I wanted to give that I’d never received. When we were together, Bruce and I pictured them, it is scary how close they are to the images in our heads, but then Bruce was no longer there. Still, I never wanted anyone but him to be the father of my children. So, when my father told me to sire an heir that was Bruce’s, even if artificially, I defied him to create Marinette too.

I would never have been able to acknowledge she was mine. But I knew, and loved and protected her. Bringing her as close as I could without garnering suspicions. Trying to have as close to a mother-daughter relationship as one can have in such an environment. It was not perfect, but it was close considering the odds. I had two children, who I love, and I believe love me. Giving me purpose beyond maintaining my father’s status quo.”

“Yet at some point the illusion of it being enough shattered.” Alfred sagely stated.

“The day I realized my father was going to use Marinette just as much as Damian. The day he announced their engagement funny enough, the day he died. We were all pawns of his, for better or worse I had cursed them to that life. I had always known that to some conscious level, but that was the day I knew even she would eventually be torn from my side.”

Alfred took a sip of his tea. “So, what now?”

“Now? Now, I do everything in my power to make sure he never has a chance to use them as pawns in his games again.”

Alfred slowly took another sip of his tea, his eyes never losing sight of her, not even when he took a bite of his cookie and brushed the crumbs from his fingertips.

“As I said before, chasing the wrong dragon.” Talia’s eyes narrowed but she said nothing, “What you are doing in that gym does not fulfil the reasons behind why you defied your father, why you wanted them.”

“What?”

“Talia,” he placed his hand on hers as she realized she gripped the table at some point. The initial reaction she had was to withdraw it, but other than a small twitch she left it. “You may tell yourself you knew Damian was created to be the heir your father desired, but I have been privy to some details of his childhood to know within the confines of your room you did everything in your power to contradict it, to ensure he was more than that. In your room you made him know you loved him separately of the title Ra’s gave him, raised him to be strong enough to survive and never truly be a pawn to your father’s games, and spent time with them both as a family just without calling it such. You said yourself, your father never had time for you outside of your usefulness, yet Damian spoke of your room being a sanctuary and a constant where there were no expectations. That does not sound like him only being Ra’s heir.”

Alfred’s second hand came to rest on his first and he lightly squeezed her hand as he smiled gently. “It is an unfortunate life they have led to a degree, being born within the League with so much expectation on them as children. Yet, there is not a single person in this household who can’t claim overcoming some level of trauma which formed them into being the great people they are. But, I hate to think what would have happened had you not defied your father and had both. Paris may not be standing, and Bruce would not have begun the real process of being healed from his own childhood. But again, this is not the reason you had the children.

You had them because you wanted to be their mother. A part of that is protecting them, but that is but only one part. Especially as they have Bruce, Dick, Jason and Tim protecting them too. For that matter at any given moment without asking they have both Adrien and Jon. But what they really need is for you to be their mother, stop isolating yourself in the name of their protection.

Both need to find sanctuary in your chambers, sort of speak. Where there are no expectations aside from just being your daughter and your son. They may never have or desire a typical teenage bonding experience with you, but at the very least they want to slay your dragons beside you.

With what I fear we are about to face; I think it will be important to know how to lean on each other and ensure your bonds are unbreakable. And with how it might end it is also important to have no regrets, waste no time and love my whole family; while Dick and Tim may be older I believe they would also appreciate having some of what only you can give.”

Talia took a moment to process never leaving her eye contact with Alfred before taking his hand which held hers and covering it with her own. “Fine, no regrets, let the same apply for you. You know you are like a father to Bruce and therefore grandfather to the kids. As I have put up a shield and will acknowledge the need for it to be lowered, I suggest the same, because I too could use the love of a father.”

Chapter Text

“Pixie, she’ll love you. You need to stop worrying so much,” the voice entering her conscience sounded strained, as if physically harmed. “Please!”

Wondering what had prompted the statement, Marinette brought her focus back to the moment and realized she’d been holding Jason’s hand in a death grip. Immediately she loosened her hold, but didn’t let go of his hand entirely.

“How do you know,” she asked, not bothering to look up and see his reaction to her question. While she loved all of her brothers and had formed bonds with Tim and Dick that were growing to become similar to those with Jason and Damian, she didn’t always love how they all looked at her at times as if too emotionally fragile with too many cracks already formed, making it easier for her to break. Aside from, well even Damian, she was likely the most emotionally stable, able to sort through her emotions in a rational way than any other member of the family.

Sadly, her fault, as seen by the family but not the rest of the world, was allowing herself to acknowledge and feel her emotions, only closing herself off to them, like the rest of them did all the time, if the moment called for it. Which meant yes perhaps at times she allowed herself to be emotionally vulnerable, and perhaps she was more so because she’d been thrown emotionally around so many times it was inevitable for cracks to form, but it also meant breaking her would take a whole lot more.

Perhaps considering the circumstances of the day, it could be understood why there might be a few additional hairline fracture by the end of it.

“Cause she loves Damian.” Jason deadpanned, reminding her of her question.

Looking up at his delivery she saw him softly smiling at her, something she managed to timidly return because she didn’t quite feel it. There was a history there the family was only vaguely aware of, from her understanding even Cass hadn’t been open with the exact events. Perhaps like her, Cass felt it wasn’t her place to tell, as it was as much one’s story as the others. Not to mention, how do you go about telling a family who loves you and loves the other just as much, it was her job to test the limitations of Marinette’s healing abilities. The hand which inflicted many injuries that would have been fatal to anyone else.

In no way did Marinette blame her, but she’d witnessed how others could take it upon themselves to look down upon someone who caused harm to the ones they loved, even if it was an accident, even if the one harmed wasn’t looking for justice, and sometimes—Alya—even when the other party wasn’t guilty of the alleged offense or even really been labeled the offender.

Everyone in the family knew how she healed, just as everyone knew she still felt all of the pain associated with said injuries. Could she live with herself if she said too much, and her family looked differently upon Cass for the things she did under the orders of Lady Shiva and Nyssa? While Marinette didn’t hold her injuries against her, would Cass do the same. Would Cass in some way hold her responsible for being forced to fight and then injure her in too? People held stronger grudges for weirder things.

The potential answers to her questions seemed too hard to bear. For years she been able to ignore them as she hadn’t been forced to confront them. Yet here she was moments away from facing the very person who caused her to ask them.  

With her mind working a mile a minute, Jason pulled her arm towards him so she fell flush against him. “Come here, “ he cooed, knowing physical embraces were often the best at calming her down. Like when she was a child, back when she only wished he was her older brother, she wrapped her arms as much as she could manage around his waist and buried her head. Returning the embrace, Jason squished her even more into him as if he could somehow manage to combine them into a single entity.

Eventually the need for air turned her face, but she kept her body flush with her brother as they waited for the plane to disembark.

Despite the destination, Gotham Airport was as busy as ever. People moving around as families returned from their trips, solo travelers rushed to and from the building to their next important destination and family lingered awaiting their happy reunions. Naturally with their large family, it always seemed to attract attention, lingering upon discovery of just who was waiting at the automated doors which separated the general population from those flying.

Jason’s large body protected her from seeing most of it, despite her starting to grow accustomed to  ignoring it. Yet even she could find the amount of male attention she attracted extremely uncomfortable. Not completely unusual, she’d had a large amount of admirers in Paris, but with the promise of millions if not billions of potential inheritance and the title of the only female Wayne heir, the attention was far more blatant and for greedy reasons instead of honest attraction.

At least with Jon and Adrien she could be sure of their attention being genuine instead of self-serving, but poor Damian was subjected to similar treatment as people believed as the only biological male heir their father would give him more. It was preposterous as their father loved all of them regardless of biological connection. Still, Damian was subjected to it without the protection and love of a significant other to shield him.

Once upon a fantasy, Marinette had considered Kagami as a possibility. Their demeanors were so similar, interests as well. But in truth, upon observation she could see while she favored Kagami as a friend due to her similarities to her brother, she was too similar to Damian that they failed to communicate as both preferred others to bring conversation to their personal silence. Luka also seemed like a good possibility, but the guilt from knowing of his own feelings towards her and her inability to reciprocate kept her from even attempting to play match maker there.

When her musing was abruptly torn by a loud squeal, Marinette almost forgot where she was. Tensing she was prevented from positioning herself defensively by Jason’s strong hold as her eyes danced across the large atrium to discover the origins of the sound. Furthest from the doors, they had a hard time looking beyond the sliding barriers, but from how Tim’s body seemed to droop almost instantly, it was obvious at once who was responsible for the sound.

Stephanie.

As if she wasn’t carrying two bags which threatened to take everyone out in her path, Stephanie came barreling out of the doors, racing to the assembled family. Without hesitating she skipped formalities with everyone as she dropped her bags at Tim’s feet, and he braced for the impending hug. Only for her to shift in a fluid movement—he missed due to his squinted eyes—and skipped over to Marinette.

Smiling, she let go of Jason and allowed Stephanie to wrap her in a hug, due to Marinette being a few inches taller Stephanie was only able to briefly lift her from the floor as she arched her back. “Where’s that twin of yours?” she mock whispered into Marinette’s ear.

Tilting her head, Marinette indicated the body she was blocking slightly at her side. Stephanie wasted no time scooping him into the hug. An action which caused Damian to immediately protest, flailing his body to break the hold, but not as much as he would if actually attempting to liberate himself.

“I spent the last week sharpening every blade I could get my hands on.” She playfully bantered between the two youngest Wayne’s heads, before more seriously saying, “no one threatens my family,” causing Marinette to swallow as if the threat was directed at her with the intensity the statement was made.

Steph pulled back and smiled excitedly, bouncing slightly on the tip of her toes. “Can’t wait to go ninja hunting.”

Marinette smiled with her brows furrowed at the unexpected humor, but Damian stopped struggling, smiling as if it weren’t a joke. For a moment she forgot exactly who her brother was and how they were related.

When Stephanie finally pulled away, Marinette looked back down on the family line, expecting to find smiles on their faces at the reunion, but instead they were looking at the opposite end where a second reunion occurred.

Worried about her own, Marinette failed to consider an equally contentious reunion. With a single black bag thrown over her arm, Cass was looking at Talia and Talia back at her. No words passed between them, and at the angle she stood Marinette couldn’t make out the facial expressions. Like everyone else she had to wait with bated breath for the outcome. Both women wouldn’t break out in a fight at the airport of course, but there had been a harmony at the manor missing for years, no one wanted it to be suddenly gone.

If her mother was being honest with them about her feelings on her time in the League than she was looking at Cass with the same guilt she’d first looked at Marinette when reunited. But Cass, Marinette couldn’t imagine her expression having never seen a single change on her face when training, only the occasional smile when both accomplished something they knew to be exceptional, only for it to be wiped off immediately by Lady Shiva or Nyssa’s unwarranted critiques.

Still Marinette could tell from the lift in her cheeks when the same smile eventually made its way to Cass’s face, and she nodded her head at acknowledgement of something between her and Marinette’s mother. At least her mother was aware of what it meant, hesitating for only a second before returning a smile of her own.

Cass made her way down the line, stopping at each Wayne to say hello, having not seen each of them since half of them went off to Paris and her back to China. It wasn’t long before she stopped right next to Stephanie and finally looked at Marinette. Attention skipping back and forth between both dark-haired girls, it took a second for Stephanie to understand and move back to stand beside Tim to give them the moment alone as needed.

Looking up at the girl who had an aura of strength similar to their own, built on similar unfortunate experiences, Marinette didn’t know how to feel.

Guilt, check. Respect, check. Fear, double check.

Like with her mother, Cass seemed to study Marinette for a moment. While she’d perfected her ability to mask and push away her emotions thanks to her tenure in an akuma-filled Paris, Marinette made a promise to never do so when unnecessary. So, she knew Cass was seeing her conflicted emotions, but she was expecting the usual unreadable mask from Cass. Instead, Cass appeared troubled, confused and perhaps concerned telling by the pinch between her brows.

Suddenly her head kipped back as if she had solved the problem. “We are not responsible. Victims.”

The first time Marinette heard Cass’s voice, she wasn’t sure what to expect but it was beautiful, made more so by her words. It was clear Lady Shiva had forbidden her from speaking, something Marinette had assumed wrongly to have been reserved only for her during training. Her own training had been horrible, several of her instructors had made it seem as if it were their personal mission to kill or punish Marinette, even without the knowledge of her abilities, but poor Cass. It made it even sadder part of the treatment Cass had experienced was at her own hand.

Not realizing it, tears began to fall down Marinette’s face and arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a hug. They stood there for some time, holding each other as they released the pain associated with their time on the island. They’d both managed to put the experience deep into the recesses of their minds, so they didn’t have to address it, but acknowledging their status as victims, together, and accepting the facts, it was just that simple to finally moving on.

“Protect now.” Cass mumbled into her ear and Marinette nodded her head agreeing to both protecting and accepting it in kind.

“Destroy,” Cass promised.

“So, no other children have to suffer the same,” Talia said, not hiding the fact the rest of the family had been privy to the private moment between them.

Cass nodded her head, taking her eyes off Marinette to look at Talia. “No more children,” she declared before grabbing Damian to be included once again in a hug.

Normally her brother would be adverse to such contact, but at the moment he accepted it as more than an offer of affection but a promise, a pact; to destroy the League of Assassins once and for all.

As if agreeing to the same, more arms wrapped around them and before they knew it they’d formed a huge ball of hugging Waynes.

Chapter Text

School started on Monday and the fact was a little bittersweet. Like every other kid it meant an end to the independence summer offered. Positively though it meant Superboy had finally moved into Wayne Manor in anticipation of the first day and allowed the opportunity to partake in the Bat family’s weekday patrols. Something he’d come to enjoy when given the opportunity.

The dynamic between the family was five-star entertainment. Always had been and one of the many reasons Superboy was always happy to team up with any of them during the larger League missions. Sure, Batman was serious and a little intimidating, something all his children echoed when in mission mode, but during the down time they kept things light. Even Robin, which surprised people, while his humor was drier than the driest, it was something Superboy had come to appreciate during their exclusive team-up when younger.

Adding more people to the dynamic fortunately didn’t shift it too much either. Even as Cass and Stephanie joined yesterday, the jokes over the comms became more inclusive instead of feeling more inside, the pokes were different, but the results were the same, a fun patrol as Gotham seemed to be silent in comparison to its usual liveliness.

With more people though they were forced to shift partners. Since Robin had almost been killed, neither Ladybird nor Robin were allowed to patrol alone or in just a pair. With Superboy joining for the week, Batman had allowed the four teenagers to team up and Superboy could not help but imagine what a formidable team the four of them would be on a real mission. Since the other two girls return though, the last two nights of summer patrol saw the teams shift again.

What would have been a surprise to anyone not long ago, Batman and Red Hood paired together. While they’d gotten over their major problems not long after Damian arrived, the lingering madness always threatened the dynamic. With the madness plaguing his mind finally destroyed, Jason could offer real forgiveness and the relationship between the pair finally seemed to be on the verge of being better than before.

Naturally, Nightwing and Oracle were together. If Superboy were a gambler he would bet as soon as the threat was neutralized in Gotham, the pair would leave the nest and become the official duo in Bludhaven.

Then there was only a slightly less harmonious duo between Red Robin and Batgirl. Which left Black Bat to team with Ladybird and Black Cat, Nemer with Robin and Superboy.

Luckily on the final night of summer patrol Nemer had ensured their routes would have their paths merge at the warehouses by the docks, where they were currently waiting for the other team. The pair of best friends were sitting on the edge of the tallest building nearby, overlooking where the cargo ships were anchored. Nemer was on the opposite side of the building, looking in the direction Ladybird and company were expected to arrive from.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Robin lamented, as if Superboy was supposed to understand his meaning with the abrupt beginning of a conversation.

“What?” Superboy questioned while his mind was doing its best to run through what they’d being doing recently to help him understand.

“We know we were running ourselves to the ground when the League attacked the last time, and yet here we are doing it again. It has been two weeks and nothing. Yet we have kept our patrols heavier and for what? To stop a single mugging. Even the rogues have been unusually quiet again.”

Superboy stayed silent knowing Robin was using the opportunity to vent, not really for a conversation.

“She was supposed to be safe,” Robin whispered, knowing despite the enhanced hearing gifted to his mother from her Miraculous only Superboy would hear.

“She is. You both are.”

“No, I failed. If not for her I would have died,” he whispered again, looking back at his mother to ensure she wasn’t listening.

Superboy turned his head to note the same, Nemer kept her head looking out into the city, her pattern of scanning not missing a beat. Superboy wasn’t sure if it was practiced to allow her son this moment, or if she was truly not listening.

Unfortunately, as much as Robin wanted to keep the conversation from his mother, Superboy could not whisper at the same volume and expect to be heard. “You didn’t fail; we failed you. But, as scared shitless—excuse my choice of words—as I was to know I had almost lost my best friend, it proved something.”

Robin looked at Superboy, and though the white lenses prevent Superboy from seeing his eyes, he could still feel the skepticism coming from them.

“On Earth my father and I are supposed to be indestructible, vulnerable to only one thing which can’t even be found here naturally.”

“Yes, but you’re enemies have made it a point to acquire kryptonite—"

“True,” Superboy cut him off before he was derailed from his current train of thought, “but how many times have you and your father still had to come and save us from a tight spot even when kryptonite hasn’t been involved?”

“To date? Personally? Not including when you have almost killed yourself out of pure stupidity? 5 times.” Robin smiled proud of the number and the fact Superboy was acknowledging it.

“Exactly! No one is capable of escaping their own mortality. Nor is anyone truly capable of protecting themselves entirely, especially with our occupational hazards. Even if we were the best trained like you, or supposed to be invulnerable like me, death has a habit of coming for us all. The best protection against it isn’t ourselves, it’s having friends with baseball bats ready to strike it down and ask it to come back later.”

“Death will keep knocking, Robin. Whether it’s at the hand of the League of Assassin’s or someone else’s, we’ve proven they’re going to face the door opening with at least ten other people answering alongside the person they’re calling for.

Any given day we all would have died a hundred different ways, at the hands of a hundred different people. The reason we haven’t is because we’ve got each other’s backs. Don’t allow yourself to believe you have to be the only one answering the door Robin, or your less than because you don’t.”

On a roll, Superboy couldn’t help but finish. “I know stories often romanticize the idea of a solo person defeating impossible odds, but those are all fiction. The ones based on facts are really about people seeing the odds and standing up together against them. Not always a happy ending. That’s the true story behind 300 or remembering the Alamo.

Don’t defeat yourself before your battle really begins by convincing yourself you’re unworthy for some reason. You’re not, no matter what your insecurities say because if you were…no one would stand up beside you to fight.”

Finished, Robin wouldn’t look at him and Superboy knew he’d hit an emotional nerve. Whether Robin believed his words or not—more than likely not—he wouldn’t acknowledge it for a while as he had to process the grey into something that was more black-and-white.

“I’m not insecure,” he finally grumbled, but whatever else he was going to say, if anything, was lost with the approach of Ladybird, Black Cat, and Black Bat.

A habit developed after the incident had Ladybird first going to Robin, taking his hand and squeezing it as she respected his aversion to too much touch, while appeasing her need for physical confirmation of him being there. Almost losing her brother had left mental scars for her as well. Then, her movements would follow through to the first boyfriend in her path, that evening it happened to be Superboy. The distance between them gone, she wrapped her hands around Superboy’s waist and hugged him tightly.

While in uniform she ensured the affection between them was quick, never public, but since they were alone she allowed him to give her a quick kiss to the top of her forehead before he acknowledged Black Cat with a fist bump.

Settling between them, Ladybird bounced on her toes. “Get up to anything fun tonight?” she asked, noticing the slight tension between Superboy and Robin.

“It was as quiet as it always seems to be as of late.” Robin grumbled, clear displeasure present in his voice.

Nemer approached from behind and placed a hand upon her son’s shoulder. “Are you feeling restless, Robin?”

A nod acknowledged his feelings. “Then I guess it is time for some training. To make it fair, Superboy please do not use your flying ability or superspeed. The boys will join as a team against the girls. Ladybird no charms please.”

A mischievous smile spread as Ladybird nodded, excited to play against the boys instead of with.

“The objective is for the girls to capture the boy’s flag and return it to me. If they are touched while in possession of the flag with a hand then the boy’s win.” Nemer held up a piece of trash she’d collected from the roof, handing it to Robin and pointing in the direction they would start.

Without a word the boys ran off, Robin giving orders immediately.

Nemer called time and both teams looked at each other. Unsure what plan the girls had managed in such a short time, it was a surprise to see them simply looking at each other briefly before moving.

Robin immediately gave chase to Black Bat and Cat to Ladybird. The girls did not separate to force a chase but remained side by side as they ran towards their interceptors. As soon as they were upon them, Ladybird wrapped her yoyo around their legs and pulled. The boys stumbled before being thrown to the other side of the roof. Robin landed hard against Cat who grunted from taking the brunt of the impact for both.

Ladybird giggled in a way few heard while suited up before increasing her speed and closing the distance between them and Superboy. Immediately he reacted by positioning himself to intercept, but it was like some kind of signal as they closed ranks even tighter. Coming at him as if a single unit.

The moment they were upon him, both sets of weapons came down on him at the same time. If one thought Robin and Ladybird were able to fight as an extension of the other, something they’d learned and perfected from being raised together, Black Bat was their triplet. Keeping Superboy on his toes despite having trained with Black Bat and Robin on several occasions, Ladybird was definitely their bridge.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the other boys making their way quickly over, raising their own weapons to engage. Seconds away Ladybird suddenly broke off from their fight, dancing around him in a hypnotizing movement to end up behind him, right in front of their flag.

Black Bat seemed to sense the moment Ladybird’s hand grabbed the trash as she broke off and began running in the direction they’d come. Right into the path of Robin and Black Cat. Again, the girls moved to become a single unit, Ladybird used her yoyo to prevent Robin from intercepting. Forcing him to dodge out of their path before skidding to shift directions and resume his pursuit.

The girls may have thought the boys missed it, but Ladybird handed the flag to Black Bat as they crossed, causing all three to change targets. Each time they came close Ladybird would interfere to prevent the boys from getting too close, running in a type of zig zag around Black Bat to prevent their weapons, much less their hands from touching.

Deciding to tackle Black Bat, Ladybird clearly read Superboy’s intensions and lashed out with her yoyo. But unlike the other’s his strength was even with her magic, causing her to fail to pull him when he anticipated the counterattack. So, she ran in the opposite direction knowing he would give chase to allow the other two boys to deal with Black Bat.

As he followed she giggled, slowing her pace slightly so she could lunge right then left as she mocked an attempt to get away.

Finally, she stopped, panting slightly and looking around in the way he knew was her trying to come up with one of her complex plans. Superboy had no intension of allowing it, she might be his girlfriend but that did not mean that she always got to win.

But then she did the unexpected. Running right up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, before kissing him. It wasn’t the timid ones she’d been increasingly giving as she waited for him to take the initiative as he was newer to kissing than she was. This one was similar to the one he’d secretly witnessed between her and Adrien when he’d walked in on the pair in her room.

The response time was a little slower than he’d like to admit, but upon realizing it was happening he lowered his hands to hold her as he intended to reciprocate with gusto. Only as soon as he released the tension in his body, she jumped down, lunged around him and sprinted to her mother.

Cat and Robin were engaged in a baton fight with Black Bat and did not realize Ladybird had broken free and was running without an obstacle in her path. As soon as Superboy’s feet began moving again it was too late to stop her.

Skidding to a complete stop next to Nemer, she turned to face the battling boys who noticed the movement. Their fight with Black Bat slowly disengaged and Ladybird smiled, bowing to the crowd and producing the trash out of one of her pockets, waving it before giving it to her mother who beamed with pride.

Black Bat skipped over and gave Ladybird a high five as the boys stared open mouthed at the pair.

“How?” Black Cat asked.

“We train for months; I trained her well.” Black Bat nodded as if it were certified.

Annoyed, but admitting defeat Robin and Black Cat went to congratulate them, but Superboy couldn’t stop staring at Ladybird. Noticing, she looked back, and he swore he noticed after a moment a bit of guilt flash across her face.

Wondering why, he realized she’d used their first real kiss to secure a win and needless to say it didn’t feel great. Still, when she jumped at him as soon as she got close, he caught her and held her so she was level with him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I didn’t realize that you would see that as our first real kiss.” Superboy was unsure what she meant, after all, that was their first kiss.

“That wasn’t a kiss,” she whispered into his ear before moving her head to align with his and pressing their lips together again.

Unlike previously, he responded in kind. While he was inexperienced and he knew it showed, it didn’t matter. Realizing as long as there was love, time would be given to learn and get it right.

As embarrassing as it could have been to have his first real kiss witnessed by so many people, especially the mother of his girlfriend, Superboy didn’t care. In a way, he felt it was her way of saying ‘he’s mine deal with it, we aren’t going to hide it from anyone.’

When she finally pulled back, she beamed at him as if sunlight was radiating from her entire body and her lips moved as if in the middle of deciding something. When the decision was made she smiled. “I love you.”

The words shut down his brain for a moment as he processed. The moment he realized he’d actually heard the words he smiled back just as brightly. He’d felt the same for a while, but wanted the right moment to say it.

Now was that time. “I love you too.”

Chapter Text

Perhaps Adrien was sheltered, or rather he most definitely was, for the parking lot of Gotham Academy was unlike any he’d seen for a school other than a university before. In Paris every student walked or used public transportation to get to school, aside from a select few himself included, but at the academy it appeared as if a vehicle was a school supply required in order to attend as much as pen and paper.

Even stranger was the number of vehicles he would be labeled as luxury, an oddity considering at least half of those with cars would have had licenses for less than a year. A fact, true for himself which he had to remind his mother of when she’d tried to insist upon a few more bells and whistles for his first car.

The truck he’d driven off the sales lot with was perfect. Not that most would have labeled him as a truck kind of guy, but it had an engine, A/C, Bluetooth and the best feature of all, a bench seat in the front. The moment he saw it among the sea of used cars, trucks and SUVs he knew.

The first night he’d had it, he’d picked up Marinette and Jon from the manor and they’d driven down to the coast. The bench allowed Marinette to sit between the two with one of each’s hands resting on one of her thighs as she gushed about the pros of living outside of a big city. Then they’d laid a blanket with a few pillows Marinette had made in the bed of the truck and star gazed for the next uncounted number of hours.

Needless to say, a truck was going to be constant in his garage for the future.

“Just two more years,” Jon chanted in mock cheer using the dashboard as an instrument before climbing out of the cab as Adrien turned the engine off.

Adrien smiled at his antics and walked around to come to stand behind his truck and look up at the large building.

The atmosphere was not very different from Paris’, groups of friends were hanging out together as they waited for their whole group to arrive. Several students already had their heads in books as they sat upon stone walls pretending to study—considering it was their first day—as they waited for the morning bell. Then there were those who made no point in pretending they were doing anything other than people watching, eating the last of their breakfast as an excuse for the behavior. It looked very similar to every American show about teenagers he’d ever seen, and yet the vibe was just a little different.

Adjusting his uniform’s tie, Adrien moved his shoulder bag to rest behind him and led the charge to the front steps of the building where Jon quickly caught up to walk beside him. Ready to start the school year with the confidence of having at least one person who knew him at his side.

“They assign lockers during homeroom, so we can’t drop off our stuff yet. But maybe a quick tour?”

Nodding his head, Adrien fell back slightly to let Jon lead, both decidedly ignoring the many stares aimed in their direction. Use to such treatment he wasn’t fazed; he kept a smile on his face, as he’d noticed unlike Europeans all Americans did, and politely acknowledged those who naturally fell into his path. The surprise came when Jon seemed equally unbothered by the attention and did the same.

Adrien was aware this wasn’t some young adult’s movie about teenagers where people were interested in the two because they both appeared to be new ‘alpha males’ strolling down the school’s hallways. Sure, he knew they both looked good and likely had an aura about them which Jon was working towards not dampening; it was because they knew who he was, no surprise there. After being caught in the mall posing the clothes for his mother, someone had posted a picture of him, and it made its way to page six in several local newspapers. Not the biggest news as he was mostly a European model, but rumors were abounding as to whether he was trying to make it big in the American market. Soon they would find out it wasn’t the case, and he would still likely grace the front cover as they discovered his relationship with a certain Wayne. Past and present.

Fingers pointed, girls giggled, and boys measured themselves up against both as they walked down the locker filled halls. Everyone was trying to figure out what the famous face was made of, where he would fall in comparison to other local celebrities in the school social hierarchy.

“Kent,” a boy stepped out in front of them, impending their movements unless they wanted to be considered rude by brushing him off and moving around. “Can’t say I’m surprised to see you leaching off someone else who’s famous. Maybe this time you’ll have bet on a better horse than Damian Wayne.”

The guy looked around at the few boys directly behind him for approval of his words, smiling as if his joke had landed. It looked like they’d just found the male version of Lila, from the olive-green eyes to the overly fussed hairstyle. Unlike Lila who hid her bullying under vailed threats and claims of misunderstanding, this boy was blunt.

No mistaking his words to be anything but the insult he intended them to be.

From his experience with Lila, Adrien had come to learn bullies thrived off making others feel as small as they did in their head. Without therapy to address their own insecurities, the best way to get them to stop targeting you was to cut their legs out from under them to show you would not be an easy target. Not by being degrading, not attacking them more than necessary, but just hitting them with a little truth bomb.

“You may think that Kevin, but in reality…” Jon took a single step closer as if he only wanted to be heard by Kevin. “I don’t have friendships based on how they may benefit me, I make them because I genuinely like the person. Which is why, even if you managed to somehow ask nicely, I’m pretty sure we could never be friends.”

Not expecting Jon’s response, Kevin’s mind clearly buffered as he tried to think of something clever to say to get back on top. Looking around he tried to hide his momentary panic at seeing so many people’s attention focused on the trio due to his provocation. At first he’d thought it a good thing for so many people to witness him ‘putting Jon and Adrien in their place,’ but now…

“Don’t flatter yourself Kent, why would I ever want to be friends with you?”

“Because most people genuinely like me. That is…most everyone except for the people that feel threatened by me for whatever reason.”

Kevin scoffed, smiling with a hint of panic in his eyes, looking at his friends to confirm what Jon had said had been funny and not true. “Why would I feel threatened by you?”

Admittedly upon reflection Adrien would come to realize his next actions would have consequences. But, in his defense he’d allowed a bully to get away with their behavior before and for a time it had hurt the woman he loved. He promised then to never allow anyone to make another person feel small for no reason if he could stop it. So, despite the fact it would make him another enemy, Adrien decided to truthfully answer Kevin’s question alle Chat Noir. Also, because at that moment, the little inner voice in his head was screaming, ‘pick me, pick me. Put me in, Coach.’

“You know who I am, hence, why you attacked with the ‘only friends with celebrity’ angle. But you felt like you had to say something because you noticed as we were walking the girls weren’t just looking at me. It’s clear you’re threatened now that Jon’s no longer hiding his efforts at the gym, so you think no one’s going to want—" Adrien loosely gestured to Kevin.

Several girls giggled then but Adrien didn’t give them any attention, not needing their confirmation to make his point. Not to mention, it was best to go ahead and nip any ideas they may have in the bud, while he had their attention.

“Don’t worry, Kevin. Neither of us are on the market, which means you get the pick out the girls…who will have you. No need to make enemies out of people who aren’t even in the fight.”

With Adrien’s parting words, Jon stepped forward and grabbed Kevin’s shoulder, patting it as if out of pity before walking away with Adrien right on his heels. Over his shoulder he made eye contact with Adrien and the pair smiled, two peas in a pod.

The rest of the tour went off without a major hitch. They arrived at the school earlier than most due to Adrien’s excitement for the first day, one of the few in his life, so they were able to identify all of their classrooms and recreational spaces. Rounding their tour off at the front office and counseling center.

With no intention of going in, they gave it a wide berth. Only looking in through the multiple panes of glass which gave them sight of a few students milling around as they tried to fix their schedules before the morning bell.

A moment before Adrien turned his head to ask Jon if he wanted to go to their homeroom, a familiar and distinctive shade of black caught his attention, causing him to double take the body it belonged to.

As if she’d caught the action herself, Marinette’s head snapped to him at the same time. A megawatt smile appeared on her face and both Jon and Adrien responded by unconsciously stopping their movements to watch her.

Turning, she said something to the administrator she’d been talking to before excusing herself to essentially run out of the office. Without hesitating, considering it was in plain view of the administrators still on the other side of the office windows, she jumped into Adrien’s arms.

“Surprise,” she giggled. Wiggling free from Adrien’s hold to give Jon a hug as well. Adrien could tell from Jon’s expression as he automatically wrapped his arms around their girlfriend he was confused too by her appearance.

When her feet returned to the ground she stood in front of them dressed in one of the Gotham Academy uniforms. The outfit caused Adrien’s brows to furrow, unsure what to make of it.

“Mari, what are you doing here?” Jon asked for both of them.

“Going to school of course,” she said coyly, though her tone made it sound like the answer should have been more obvious.

“But you’ve graduated,” Adrien blurted, remembering the conversation they’d had when he’d arrived about the things she’d done when he’d erased his memories.

“What are you talking about?” she smiled. Raising her hand to the side of her mouth to whisper as if conspiratorially, “Tim fixed my file. Worked it out to get a similar deal to Paris. I’ll spend the majority of my time in the library working on my university coursework to finish my business degree—don’t tell Damian it’s almost done—while taking a few courses here to work on my high school diploma and socialize with kids my own age.”

Smiling brightly, she beamed as if it was clever, which if she wanted to spend more time with them it was, but at the cost of getting to run her own fashion empire all the sooner.

Part of Adrien understood, fighting himself to attend school in the first place for similar reasons.

“But you won’t have time to work on your fashion then?” Jon stated the obvious fact, his face showing no emotions as he processed what she was telling them. Which was likely doing wonders for her self-esteem.

“Do you not want me here?” Her face dropped as if she thought there was some possible truth in the question.

“Absolutely not!” “Are you kidding.” Adrien and Jon both shouted, reaching out as if she would disappear in that moment causing her smile to instantly return.

“Well then, that’s the beauty of it. Unlike Damian, I’ve come to realize I want some kind of normal and to not risk growing up too fast before I have to. Dad worked it out with Gotham University so I can get both my diploma and degree together next year as long as I do a couple of summer courses on campus. And as luck would have it one of the things I need for my high school diploma is an elective and I’ve chosen Home Ec., and the teacher said all I had to do was make some pastries every week and she’ll allow me the rest of the classes to ‘go crazy’ with my fashion.”

Smiling at how she’d clearly thought it out, Adrien finished for her, “and in the meantime, we get to spend even more time together.”

“More time to be normal,” Marinette smiled, coming to stand between them as she swung their arms and began moving when the morning bell rang.

For a few moments the boys followed as Marinette enthusiastically weaved them through the many students meandering towards their homerooms. Enjoying the moment, so different and so similar to their time in Paris. At least this time Adrien and Jon weren’t shooting daggers at each other.

“Mari, do you know where you’re going?” Adrien asked, laughing as he realized they were going in the opposite direction of where Jon’s and his homeroom were located.

Stopping suddenly, several people had to adjust to keep from running into them. It was so abrupt that a few unfortunate souls rammed into Adrien’s and Jon’s shoulders as she spun them and continued walking as if nothing happened. But as they’d turned Adrien noticed one of the people who ran into them happened to be Chelsea from the diner. Her eyes jumped between them, narrowing before widening as she realized Adrien hadn’t been lying, though at the time it was more of a wish than a reality.

Looking away from Chelsea, Adrien returned his attention to Marinette who’d given Jon her schedule so they could get her to the right place. Jon chaffed at what he saw before reaching to show Adrien what had been written on the paper.

“How much you want to bet Bruce had a part in this?”

Trying to focus quickly on the waving piece of paper in front of him he scanned as quickly as possible to see what Jon had. Instantly he noticed that aside from her electives and independent study courses she was in class with at least one of them.

“Might owe Kevin an apology,” Adrien smiled, “you do choose your friends because you like them Jon, doesn’t mean you don’t benefit.”

“It’s called karma, Adrien. I’ve racked up a lot of good points.”

Rolling his eyes, he smiled at Jon as he threw his arm around Marinette. “Come on Bugaboo. We’ve all got homeroom together.”

Marinette playfully swatted at his chest with her now free hand, “Don’t call me that,” she scolded, before turning her head and reaching her hand out for Jon to hold once more.

As they walked down the hallway, like before, the people around them stopped and stared.

Chapter Text

The moment Marinette walked into the classroom with the boys she wondered if she’d made a grave mistake. When pitching the idea to her father Damian had warned her of the faults of Gotham Academy, but she was just as stubborn as he was, if not more so, and was determined her experience would not mirror his own.

While Damian rushed forward towards higher education in the University setting, Marinette felt there was so much more to learn from peers their age. Unlike her brother she craved socialization and while in many respects the twins were more on the level academically and in life experiences with those in higher education, she knew better than to believe any of their college classmates would see it that way. After all, she was young for lycée, and it took time for others to accept her as anything more than Ms. Smarty-pants or the baby. No doubt in less than a month, Damian would be complaining about how his class cohort thought him too young and inexperienced to be included. Or lamenting how those who tried to get close were only doing so for the perceived benefit of befriending him for either his status or superior abilities to absorb knowledge.

Of course, the same could be said about the high school, but at least here she had the boys. Their presence gave her loyal companionship while she navigated what was known as high school. But so far, it was everything Damian had warned her about.

The admin was as incompetent as M. Damocles, just without the narcissist hero complex; having her write her schedule first thing in the morning instead of having it ready for her as requested almost a month ago. And her peers? They had been leering at her with equal parts fear and interest, having no doubt recognized her from the press pictures of her presentation to society, since she entered the parking lot.

When they’d approached the classroom she’d let go of her boyfriend’s hands not ashamed of their unique status but not wanting it to be the first impression everyone had. They hadn’t been late per say, as Marinette had caused a minor delay in their arrival as she observed the unique construct of the American school, but they’d been among the last of the stragglers. The fact everyone stopped their conversations and turned to stare as she entered the room as if she had the words ‘for your entertainment,’ stamped across her forehead, made her think her decision all the wiser. No point lumping Adrien and Jon into the show unnecessarily until interest died down a little.

A middle-aged man didn’t bother looking up from his paper behind a large desk to voice, “please look to the board to find your assigned seat.”

With light pressure to her back, Jon guided her to a paper taped to the center of the white board.

“Alphabetical order,” he whispered softly behind her, causing her to wrinkle her nose at the obvious misfortune. While Dupain-Cheng would have had her close to Agreste and Kent, Wayne had her on the opposite side of the room.

Giving the boys her saddest puppy expression, she moved to the very last seat in the very last row as Adrien took the third in the first row, and Jon was decidedly in the middle.

The bell had yet to ring, so voices overlapped as friends caught up and others reintroduced themselves to peers ignored in years past. The boy sitting beside her did everything in his power to avoid eye contact, as if doing so would bring an end to his life. It was undoubtedly the type of reaction she was sure her brother appreciated. Meanwhile, the girl in front seemed to be caught in a dilemma between following suit with the boy or introducing herself.

“Hi, I’m Marinette,” she waved her hand in a welcoming gesture and smiled deciding for the girl.

“Angie,” she squeaked excitedly as if Marinette acknowledging her made her year.

“Nice to meet you,” Marinette tried to keep her smile even to show she was unaffected by the girl’s actions, but apparently it was ineffective as the girl sitting behind Angie scoffed. Marinette looked her way as did her new acquaintance who glared with frustration at the new player, upset Marinette’s attention was turned.

Narrowing her eyes fast enough the girl wouldn’t notice to assess, Marinette decided to stick with her usual kind approach. “Marinette,” she tried again, throwing her hand out for good measure.

Looking at her hand, the girl ran her tongue across her teeth in consideration before extending her own and replying with, “Kaitlyn.”

Introductions out of the way, Kaitlyn continued to study her for a moment prompting Marinette to subtly wipe her face for anything out of place, but there was nothing. Still, it was as if she’d taken paint and spread it around by the action as both girls stared even harder and even the boy had joined in treating her like an exhibition.

“Is there something on my face?” she asked earnestly, wanting to kick the boys for not embarrassing her slightly by telling her about something so obviously out of place during their walk to avoid this major embarrassment.

It took a second as everyone considered their words, even Kaitlyn who seemed to have little issue with some level of bluntness. “If it was your brother on his first day, Angie here would have been met with a very different response.”

Marinette closed her eyes and released a heavy breath. She loved her brother, really she did, but as good as he was with everything, isolating himself was a particular specialty.

“My older brother Jason says when points were assigned, I was given all of the social, leaving nothing for Damian.”

As if unable to help it the boy snorted, trying to cover it with an ill placed cough, drawing all of their attention. “Peter,” he said as an introduction.

Nodding her head in his direction, “nice to meet you, Peter.”

The lack of replication of her pleasantries were noted, but she figured just like Kaitlyn he was waiting to form his own opinion before claiming the same.

Determined to win him over Marinette was about to strike up a conversation between the four when she was interrupted by the tardy bell and the teacher rising from his desk.

“Figure you all know your names, so the fact there are no empty desk it looks like I’ve already taken attendance. So, let’s go ahead and deal with lockers.” He clapped his hands together as if the topic brought him joy, but his face told a different story. “In your desk is an envelope with your name and inside you’ll find your locker number and combo.”

Mr. Pell’s approach was straight forward, take the envelope, find the locker, let him know if there was a problem. It left a feeling of more independence than Madame Bustier had managed, but the approach seemed to make less sense when instead of doing as asked students started catching up with their friends in the hall instead.

Something Marinette was also guilty of when Jon came up and poked her sides from behind.

“What locker you get? Adrien and I are five apart just over there,” he pointed in a general direction a few of her classmates had slowly been wandering towards.

Holding up her paper she showed him the number 1279. “Aww, I’m 1294 that’s more than ten lockers too far.”

Marinette felt a little disappointed but still pushed his shoulder lightly to scold his theatrics.

“You don’t want this one too close to your locker, Kent,” Adrien came up from beside Jon, throwing his arms around her shoulder and dropping his head to rest on her’s for a moment. “She steals stuff.”

Marinette wanted to protest but found her words trapped by the truth, so she settled for accepting the facts and shrugging her shoulders in defeat.

“Take five more minutes folks,” Mr. Pell casually remarked as he stuck his head out of the classroom preventing Jon from asking for an explanation.

“Let me put this stuff away and I’ll meet you inside,” she motioned with her head towards their own bags, signaling they should do the same.

Taking the hint the boys ran off to their lockers, which from the new perspective did seem pretty far.

Using the fully allotted five minutes remaining Marinette quickly decorated her locker with a few sentimental items. A picture of the whole family she’d begged them to take a few days ago. Her hand lightly brushing the image as it caused her to feel something deep inside at the completeness it portrayed. A class photo from last year after Damian and Jon had joined. A few of her with Adrien and Jon taken recently, specifically a few she’d taken after she’d made them model some of her clothing after the Botanical Gardens incident. A picture her mother had taken unknowingly of her and Damian as children that she allowed Marinette to make copies of. And even a picture of Jagged, Luka and her before they left for their tour back in May. Naturally she threw up a few items of inspiration that would change next week, made a small space for Tikki to hide away and keep her stash of cookies.

Finished Marinette looked at her handiwork and smiled, closing the door before starting off to the classroom. As she passed the boys’ locker, she noticed they were not as quick as she was, still busy decorating their lockers similarly. In Jon’s locker there was a group of people in a photo she was not familiar with, but the fact Damian was included in the image and didn’t appear to be too forced she could easily surmise who they were.

Shamefully, as she had to admit, she’d spent so much of the summer dealing with her mental wellbeing she had failed to connect with the other young heroes of the world. Not to mention she’d monopolized Jon’s time away from his other friends, even when he had gone to the Tower, something she’d have to rectify soon.

Returning to her seat she was a little surprised to find the three she’d left already there with their eyes glued on her with no intension of looking away.

“What?” she inquired of Angie again.

“Rich people.” Kaitlyn answered.

“Excuses-moi?”

Seeing the offence Marinette had taken, Angie attempted to pacify the situation. “It’s just that you know Adrien Agreste.”

“You knew that when I walked in with him. And…” Marinette sighed figuring it was the same old song and dance she experienced in Paris, before she knew her father was rich and girls were jealous of her friendship with him.

“Is there a rich kid club that ensures you know each other, because if I’m not mistaken that was Jagged Stone and his son’s picture in your locker too and…”

“Believe it or not I knew all of them before I was ‘rich.’” Marinette interrupted with a little venom present in her voice hating already the assumptions about her relationships.

Kaitlyn scoffed again, “when were you, a Wayne, never rich?”

“Long story you’ll probably keep me from making short, but after an accident as a child I ended up orphaned for a time in Paris without my memories. I didn’t know I was a Wayne when I met Adrien and Luka; who, by the way, was one of my best friends before he even knew he was Jagged’s son.”

“So, it’s all true?”

Marinette could only guess Angie was referring to the news articles written about her to explain the lack of knowledge the media had before her reappearance as a member of the Wayne family. “Yup,” was all she said ensuring she popped the P.

“So, what is Adrien doing here then?” Paul asked more to himself than to Marinette.

“Isn’t it obvious, his dad went to jail, so he followed the money.” Kaitlyn snarked.

At that moment Marinette decided she did not like her much, and the girl was lucky Plagg’s essence was not used in her creation, or who knows what would have happened. Not that she needed to defend Adrien, he was capable when it needed to be done, but she would never let anyone make an assumption about him when she could easily correct them.

“I asked him to come. Not that it is any of your business, but my dad made sure that….that man was sent to jail. Adrien isn’t destitute because of it; he made a lot of money modeling which his father can never touch, and he is so much better in so many ways now that man is behind bars.”

As if recognizing the change in warmth in Marinette’s voice, reflecting something more akin to her brother, Kaitlyn saw it as an invitation of sorts to no longer hold back. Not that Marinette thought she had been doing so to begin with.

“And you paid him back by starting to date your brother’s best friend?”

Licking her lips, Marinette took a second, knowing what she said next would have a domino effect. Rumors would spread based on the little-known truths. The best gossip was born by manipulating limited facts into false narratives after all. So, giving only the truth, straight forward no room for misinterpretation truth, was best.

C’est la vie. It was wishful thinking to believe they would have more time.

“Actually, we broke up when I left Paris because he wasn’t in the right head space to follow after breaking free of his father’s grasp. I’d gotten to know Jon in Paris when he and my brother came for the semester and even more this summer. When I was finally ready to give Jon a chance, Adrien returned.”

“Then what?” Angie asked from the edge of her seat, genuine interest in what sounded like a made for TV love triangle instead of desire for gossip.

“They knew I wasn’t in a position to decide and agreed they’d rather try together than risk being the one I didn’t pick.”

“So what? You’re in a throuple.” Kaitlyn rolled her eyes, believing it to be nothing more than high school experimentation than an actual relationship.

“I refuse to give it a label to make everyone else understand it or be comfortable with it.” Marinette shrugged her shoulder and turned slightly to dismiss talking about it further with Kaitlyn.

But she wasn’t done, “And what makes you so special to have two guys be okay with sharing you?”

Turning Marinette looked at Kaitlyn one more time so she could hear what she said clearly. “Honestly? Nothing, nothing at all.”

Chapter Text

Hitching his leg back, Damian expected his opponent’s leg to buckle from the surprise pressure, but Jason stood resolute. The failed action was followed by the humiliation of having Jason use the momentum to throw Damian over his shoulder. Causing a loud and painful grunt to escape as his back connected with the mat, the volume of the sound aided by the frustration coursing through his body.

“Again,” Damian called as he gracefully stood up, walking around his opponent to ready himself to make a second attempt at the same move.

For his part, Jason rolled his shoulders before tilting his head in a gesture that beckoned his younger brother with a taunting and unsaid, ‘your funeral’ as he widened his stance in preparation for the same outcome.

Weaponless, Damian lunged forward with his fist striking out at his opponent. Jason barely had to counter his moves, simply lifting his hands to throw off the offending punches, only forced to step back once. Taking a larger step to close the distance between them, Damian lunged forward to kick back at again into the larger calf of his brother, expecting it to cause Jason’s knee to buckle from the pressure.

Whether it was because the move was anticipated or lacked proper execution, Jason remained standing much to Damian’s chagrin. Unlike the previous rendition he countered to prevent his brother using his momentum to throw him to the ground once more, instead he shifted around in hopes of accomplishing his goal with the other leg.

Only for it to end in failure once more.

Normally, Damian would rain down a series of hits to treat his brother as a punching bag to release his frustration, something every one of his brothers was well versed in and employed in turn. On this occasion Damian was not granted such a favor, his hits were blocked or casually thrown away.

In utter frustration he moved away to regroup but found himself growling—in reality it was yelling—out.

The act caused Jason to completely disengage him and study him with unmasked concern. The moment went on for far longer than even Damian would have liked, but he admittedly did nothing to prevent it as he usually would, instead choosing to continue to voice his emotions in their rawest forms.

When his voice seemed unable to carry on he finally quieted and opened his eyes to find Jason directly in front of him. In an action more reflective of the care he usually gave Marinette, Damian found himself engulfed in Jason’s large arms, in something that could be described as a hug.

Bewildered by the sudden action, Damian froze instead of lashing out as he usually did by such spontaneous, intimate, physical actions.

“It’s okay Demon Spawn,” he heard the older man tenderly state. In response to the care in Jason’s voice Damian’s arms rose from his side to return the embrace.

Knowing when it was a good thing, and to end it before it wasn’t, Jason pulled away to get a good look at his brother, keeping a hold of him by his shoulders.

“Damian,” he said in a way Damian wasn’t sure he’d ever heard the man say, not since the night they both shed tears when he shared the news Marinette was thought dead. “What’s wrong?”

Despite the moments of uncharacteristic vulnerability only seconds before, Damian returned to using his defense mechanism of deflection. “Tt, nothing, I am merely frustrated with not being able to get this move. It is aggravating and I am allowing it to get the best of me. That is all.”

“No,” Jason stated bluntly, before rocking back on his ankles and surprising Damian by attacking.

Out of habit Damian was able to respond without thought, blocking punches intended for his cheek, dodging kicks intended for his hip. But not doing it necessarily well, he still felt the impact of the blocked hits echoing through his body.

“You’re form was imperfect.” Damian grounded his teeth at the insult, but didn’t respond. “Your body was too tense to be able to go through the motions fluid enough to compensate for my larger size. Why?”

Using the wall they’d gravitated towards, Damian kicked off the ground high enough to rise above Jason, coming down with his hands around his neck, causing Jason to bend backward from the weight Damian suddenly leveraged against him from above. Using the same wall, Jason kicked off with both feet to remove himself from Damian’s grip, sending them both tumbling to the floor before they scrambled up to prepare for the next attack.

“Where did the tension come from?” Jason asked casually as if not launching another attack, knowing Damian was more bothered by the conversation than the surprise aggression.

“Frustration from not being able to bring you down.” Damian countered the move, forcing Jason to roll backwards onto the ground to use his feet to springboard his younger brother over him and to the flat of his back.

As Jason came to stand over him, he growled, “no!” As his shadow cast on the fallen Damian, Jason looked condescendingly down at him. “This tension has been present in everything you’ve done lately, not just today. Why? Where did it come from?”

Standing, Damian was not given a moment to reattack before Jason jumped forward with his fist cocked. Stepping back, Damian was able to dodge and grabbed his older brother’s arm as he punched down, knocking him off course and causing him to roll out.

As the man was lunging down, preparing for his next attack he asked the question he’d been sitting on. “Is it because you almost died?”

Damian stayed quiet. Throwing a few punches to keep from saying anything, but from the way his eyes were glazed over it was obvious his mind was focused on the issue, reliving his near-death experience.

“At least it was only almost, some of us have actually died,” Jason mocked, knowing angering Damian was the only way he would get the truth. Lashing out with his pain was always when he seemed to be the most vulnerable.

“No,” Damian growled, as he launched himself forward without thought once again.

“Good,” Jason said with such emphasis it caused Damian to trip in his movement, allowing Jason to throw him hard onto the mat, enough to take the air out of Damian’s lungs from the impact.

Before he could comprehend, Jason had his whole body resting on his younger brother, using his weight and a crossbar hold to pin his brother down as he got in his face. “You should be proud, you almost died at the hands of your greatest adversary.”

Damian couldn’t help but stop struggling to look at Jason in confusion, he would not have called the man who stabbed him much of an adversary, much less his greatest. As far as Damian was concerned he was merely another pion in his grandfather’s organization. Which made the fact his death would have been certain if not for his sister’s magic all the more intolerable.

“Yes! Your greatest adversary.” Jason repeated as if Damian had given voice to his thoughts.

“Yourself Damian,” he stated as if Damian was a child who needed it spelled out, which perhaps in this case he was. “We all saw the footage. He had been trained to mimic you, fight like you, think like you, more than likely be you. Which means the only one who has truly come close to defeating you is you, but even that didn’t happen.”

Unsure what to say, all of the fight which had been driving Damian to ask his brother to spar disappeared.

What was there to say? He didn’t exactly see the events that way, after all, he’d fought the copy and had noticed immediately the differences. Heretic, as his aunt had called him, had not been his equal. As far as Damian was concerned he was less than, and yet he’d still managed to get the upper hand.

“What’s really upsetting you, Demon Spawn?” There it was again, his nickname, one that was once said as a taunt instead of holding the current tenderness and unmistakable affection.

Turing his head to look away, Damian fought the desire to be vulnerable with the usual expectation to not be seen as weak. What won was his desire to be seen as worthy and like a brother by Jason, as he had secretly wished back at the League when he’d seen the growing affection between Jason and Marinette. It felt ill advised to lose such an opportunity that could lead to the same level of familiar bond due to stubbornness.

“A mere copy of me, alive for who knows how long, could do what I could not.”

“Kill you?” Jason spoke without thinking, confusion evident in his furrowed brows.

Shaking his head Damian pushed against the floor to sit up, but not making any movement to move away from Jason, choosing instead to sit looking directly at him. “No, I am not sure what Nyssa had planned for Heretic, but it is obvious the first part was to have him replace me to reach some ultimate goal.”

“True, but he wasn’t successful. He wouldn’t have been either Damian, we would have known.” Jason put his hand on his shoulder but removed it as he saw the flash of anger suddenly directed at him.

“Was he not? Would you have?” Damian could not help but come to stand, pacing as he relayed the musings he had been pondering for weeks. “I took what I thought to be my last breath, a second later I am confident without a shadow of a doubt it would have been. Can any of you say without any doubt you would have known it wasn’t me if it claimed some kind of injury that led to amnesia with memory loss similar to Marinette. Without the key memories we share, would you be able to pick out my mannerisms well enough you would distinguish me from a clone who was trained to know them?”

“Yes,” Jason deadpanned, coming to stand and hold Damian to keep him from moving.  “You think because you try to hide yourself with this cover of aloofness we don’t see you. You’re all there to see, Damian; it’s only the signs are harder for those who don’t know you too read. But we do know you. And your love for animals, your affection towards us hidden under the guise of distain. No copy could mimic things like that because they are not traits which can be copied, they are who you are. Characteristics you were forced to soften while in the League of Assassins that they would not have known to teach him.

You are as unique as everyone else in this family, there is no way we wouldn’t have been able to realize the things that make you, well, you, missing if Nyssa had somehow managed to switch you. Then we would have done everything in our power to bring you back, even from death. Clearly it’s not impossible. It’s happened twice already, well three times if you count Marinette’s. May have taken some time, but we would use every dollar, every connection in this world and beyond, and every second to make it happen.

So, bring it on. Are you really a Wayne if you haven’t met death and laughed in its face?”

Seeing Damian not responding, Jason tried to repeat himself, thinking he still wasn’t convinced. “We care about you Damian, love you because there isn’t a single person like you. Don’t think for a second you are replaceable. If you were gone there would be a void that couldn’t be filled. There is just no way the copy could be nearly as annoying.”

A small smile appeared on Damian’s face at what he hoped was a joke, he didn’t like the idea of still being perceived in the same light, as annoying or a nuisance, as he’d been when he’d first come to the manor.

“So, what’s the real problem, because I know it’s not fear that you could be replaced, you’ve reminded us all so many times you can’t be.”

Feeling the honest words coming from the usually joking Jason, Damian conceded with his own honesty. “I don’t know how to put it into words.”

“You can still try.”

“I believe…” there was a hesitation not usually observed from the youngest Wayne brother. “…the truth is I am replaceable. Perhaps you would notice the differences, but I fear you would not have care. I have not been able to live up to any of the expectations I was created for, so it hurts to know that something created so recently has already been able to.”

“Wow…okay.” Jason removed his hand, bobbing his head as he thought of what to say. “That’s a lot to unpack. But…still not true.”

Damian looked at him unbelievingly.

“You are not easy to replace, nor replaceable. If you were, that Heretic dude would have just been put on the throne and declared the leader of the League of Assassins. But he wasn’t, they had to try and go some round about, ass backwards way, to accomplish that. Failing at it too. See, not easy.”

Jason winked as he said the last bit, removing the last of the tension from Damian as he could think of nothing to argue against Jason’s words.

“You’ve got to lose the insecurity, Damian. You are so much, undefinable in so many ways, yet you still think you are replaceable and unworthy. But you’ve proven that isn’t true a long time ago.”

“I am not insecure,” Damian spat out of reflex.

“Of course you are.” Jason cut him off. “How could you not be. First of all because you’re still a teenager and that just runs hand in hand. And because you were raised with more expectations than anyone could hope to meet in a thousand lifetimes. Heir to things adults spent years to cultivate. Fuck, Ra’s took centuries to create the League of Assassins, and in the end he couldn’t even fight his own battles, but he expected you to go up against all his enemies and you did. So, for now, the only thing you need to accept is the fact you are only one man. Even Atlas couldn’t carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, he was pinned down by it. You’re carrying similar weight and yet you can still fly.”

Chapter Text

Silence.

There had never been anything more frightening in the world to him than silence. It was when all was quiet, when even nature seemed to be inaudible, was when the worst would jump out with all of its strength to take advantage. Despite being prepared for it, knowing it was coming due to the discomfort such silence created, somehow the enemy always seemed to get the jump on him, forcing him into a defensive position he sometimes barely overcame or did so at great cost.

While the cave had its sounds, and the clang of the computer keys echoed through the cavernous space, nothing was coming from their search for the League of Assassins. Barbara and Tim had spent endless nights scouring the world for clues as to their movements, their intensions. Only to find nothing.

Silence.

It was driving Bruce to the brink of madness, an edge he felt close to jumping from. Too many times, he’d had his children’s lives threatened, too many times they were lost, and now he felt he was standing at a new precipice and threatened with actions that could cause him to lose them all in one fell swoop.

That was who the League of Assassin’s was, who they created. Assassins willing to do whatever they needed even for a minor victory as long as it was for the bigger cause foreseen by their leader. During his time within the League’s depths Ra’s had taught Bruce many things. Most importantly, where his mentor’s line of morality fell. Compared to his own his mentor’s beliefs had been darker, far more twisted in his ideas of what constituted as justice and revenge. When he was named heir, he knew the differences in their beliefs made so he couldn’t stay and accept the position, not without changing at the base level who his parents and Alfred had raised him to be.

It was due to that fact he walked away, leading to the birth of his son many years later, so he would take his stead, groomed into the beliefs that were necessary. The reality of the consequences of his choice had caused many nightmares pertaining to his failure as a father with Damian’s arrival. Knowing his son had been raised to be a reflection, a prodigy of Ra’s. It was on par with the fearful nightmare’s he’d once had of one of his children being raised by the Joker.

At times he’d seen similar qualities of Ra’s reflected in Talia, it had been one of the reasons he could rationalize leaving her behind when he’d chosen returned to Gotham despite his love for her. Causing him regret knowing now it was in part an act, separated from her true feelings in order to please her father and remain alive. Fortunate, for if she truly aligned with her father his son might have truly been lost to the man’s insane ideals. As it was, his son and daughter were raised by their mother to be more and better than Ra’s, using their title as assassins to help people even before they were offered the title of heroes.

Talia still held some of the covenants of her father—like her belief in killing those who she deemed deserved it—but like her son before her she promised to live according to his rules and he promised to understand if she had to do something he would not agree with if it involved their family.

Their family…a thought he had never thought possible for more than a decade and here it was. It wasn’t perfect, but it was their kind of perfect, with messiness, fights, and underlining love which saw them through it all to be together at the end of each day. And that was being threatened by none other than Talia’s sister.

Nyssa had been the one responsible, as far as he knew, for the attempted murder of his son. There was no way her morality wasn’t in line with her father’s. In fact, by comparison she was worse. Where Ra’s actions were governed by a lofty ideal for the world, hers felt more grounded towards the moment. Towards achieving whatever she could that aligned with her father’s whims, unbothered if it truly aimed towards his ultimate goal. With Ra’s gone, who knew what now drove her. It was that unsettling fact which made the silence even worse.

Detailed thoughts on the matter were dismissed for the moment as the computer beeped, causing his eyes to refocus on what was actually on the screen in front of him. A box flashed in the center with the words Bruce dreaded and yet had been seen too often lately despite the new search parameters.

‘No results found.’

Growling he pushed his chair away from the desk and spun it around to look out into the large cave, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular. Sighing, as if hoping to see the answer in the darkness, he rested his head on his hand, digging his gloved fingers into his eye as if the act was capable of removing the wariness.

There was a barely a flinch when a soft hand snuck around his shoulder, followed quickly by its partner on the other side. Briefly they pinched at his muscles to offer a quick massage to acknowledge the tension within them. It was only a moment before they wrapped around his neck and pulled the body they belonged to closer, melding it around the chair so the owner could rest her head against his shoulder and give his cheek a brief kiss.

Leaning into the affection his own hands came to grip her forearms, holding her as if not doing so would cause her to pull away. Bruce allowed his head to rest against Talia’s and just take a moment. In her arms his brain had a moment were there was no demand for it to function. Something he rarely seemed capable of accomplishing, especially as of late.

As always, the moment was brief. “Find anything,” he asked, not letting go of her to face her when she answered.

The tickle of her hair against his neck was the only indication he had of her answer before she spoke. “All of my contracts have officially turned or been killed.”

Unsure how to respond, Bruce stayed silent. Death for members and the contacts of the League of Assassin’s was expected, betrayal surprisingly just as much. However, seeing the way she’d reacted to the death of Yu Yan, he was unsure of her feelings towards the deaths of the others who had once been loyal to her.

In his own line of work death was also common, his own informants often losing their lives due to their aid. For them he felt guilt for his part in their demise, he was unsure if Talia felt the same, he was beginning to believe she might.

“I’m sorry I am of no help,” she breathed into his neck. Her body tensing in a way that was barely noticeable, as if expecting him to lash out with his disappointment much like her father would of, or perhaps a physical manifestation of her fear of disappointing him like she would for her father. Something he would have to work to change. For them to work, for it to truly work, she couldn’t fear him. Bruce was not a replacement for Ra’s, he needed her to see him as she once did, her equal, at least out of the masks.

When he didn’t respond aside from rubbing his gloved finger against her skin, she relaxed. Grew confident enough to continue before he said anything. “But I feel this sense of relief because of it.”

With those words Bruce couldn’t help it, he turned to look at her in confusion, trying to understand her meaning. For her part, he found her refusing to make eye contact, so he pulled her around the chair to sit on his lap. When she still refused, he took her face in his hands and guided her eyes to find his own.

“Explain.”

The confidence the woman usually exuded as if it were laced in her bones, seemed to diminish, as if it was never there to begin with as she considered her words.

“I am finally free. I can finally say that the League is my past. My association with them is nothing more than a heritage I had no say in. When given the choice, truly given it without feeling the need to remain to protect my son or daughter, I walked away. Losing the last of my contacts confirms my status as a traitor.”

Bruce found himself smiling, pecking her on the lips just once. Relief in finding her emotions related to her father’s organization finally black and white. Understanding of her behavior surfaced, she had lost a part of her confidence due to the lack of direction, a direction dictated for her all of her life.

“You are finally free to make your own decisions. Choose what you want, free of influence of others desires and needs to consider.” Looking at her as if trying to peak into her soul he asked, “what do you want, Talia?”

Watching, he saw several thoughts filter through her mind, considering the many things she may have wanted in her life and could now possibly have. Bruce would give her it all. They both deserved it he finally realized, the guilt they both felt, for choices that weren’t their own had been paid. Wouldn’t stop him from continuing the good fight for others who couldn’t, but perhaps he could stop denying himself in the process.

“What I want is too much,” she finally whispered, deciding on where her hearts true desire laid.

Knowing her for as long as he did, Bruce could not imagine what she wanted that could possibly be described as too much. For as long as he’d known her, she’d always acted as if she could have it all, that everything was at her fingertips. Why now that she could have it would she see it as out of reach. Afterall, compared to Ra’s desire and her past desire to please him, everything else seemed achievable.

Perhaps she was looking for redemption and prior to this moment, like him, he never felt it could be within reach.

“As Nemer, you could join the Justice League, if that is what you want. Or…” Bruce was at a loss, but felt a spark of something within his question, a possibility. “Would you join the Justice League?”

Without hesitation Talia shook her head, pulling away to have full range of motion as she did. “No, joining the Justice League may help me feel like the sins of my past could be wiped clean, but I know it wouldn’t and that would be the wrong reason to join. I would just fall into the trap of trying to please someone else, rise to their expectations. I only want to meet the expectations of my family, make choices in the future determined on what is best for me and for them, not the world or a guilty conscience.

Feeling slightly ashamed upon hearing her words, he realized she’d come to the same conclusion as him. For too long he’d been doing the same, putting the world, his search for justice, above his family. He kept saying this would change, but had it?

Afraid of the answer, for reasons he could not explain, he still asked, “what is it you want then?”

It took a moment, as she searched his eyes looking for something before her own eyes steeled with the determination he was familiar with reflecting back. “When this is done, when the children are safe from my sister and her scheme…” he shook his head in understanding these conditions, “I want to get married.”

The smile on his face was blinding, almost unnatural as he realized he wanted it too. Technically, they were already married, but it was time for the world to know it. Perhaps because of it, and his complicated feelings about it when he’d left her, he’d never truly considered a serious relationship aside from Seline. But even then he could never commit to Cat Woman in the end, not when he was still in love with his wife.

“…and I want another baby.”

Bruce thought silence was the scariest thing.

He was wrong.

Chapter Text

Knowing her luck with Gotham, it was probably a bad idea. A really bad idea. Especially considering she wasn’t technically allowed to be alone at the moment.

There had been every intention to follow the rules laid down by her father, she’d missed almost fifteen years of disappointing him, she hadn’t wanted to start now. But, when Alfred had dropped her off at Adrien’s apartment and she’d entered the large lobby she’d had a strong desire for the coffee she’d forgotten to grab and knew his apartment didn’t possess—English tea drinkers and all.

Fortunately, a quick search on her phone revealed a quaint coffee shop just down the street from Adrien’s apartment. Preferring to obtain her golden nectar from independent, owner-ran establishments, the modest hole in the wall looked perfect. With a decent line, considering the late time of day, it promised something divine to be found within.

Following those around her, Marinette joined the cue as she studied the modest menu, pleasantly surprised by the few items listed. Unlike other coffee establishments in the States the menu was more akin to one she might find back in Paris with the basics and few options laced with syrups loaded in sugar.

Once at the front of the line the barista greeted her with a smile. “What’ll it be?”

Doubting they often allowed patrons to veer too far from the menu, Marinette took a risk in ordering with the hope they would at least accommodate a combination of their offerings. “A double expresso added to a large hot brew with two creams and one sugar. To go, please.”

When the barista held out her hand to accept payment, Marinette sighed a breath of relief that her order was not too outside of the acceptable box. Swiping the card the barista returned it before leaving to make the drink and the next barista took her place to help the next in line.

Stepping to the side, Marinette waited exactly three minutes for her drink to be made and the barista to present it as if it were a blessing to the one who obtained it. From the honest expression she knew the barista actually believed it, making it likely a very good cup of coffee.

Know it was hot, and negative consequences were guaranteed, Marinette still took a sip before walking away. Immediately the quality and uniqueness of the coffee beans’ flavor danced on her tongue, making it feel like the caffeine was instantly entering her blood stream. The impact was enough she found her body doing a little jig in response, despite her burned tongue.

New favorite coffee house found, Marinette felt relieved her risk was worth the reward and turned to make her way back towards Adrien’s.

Only to be stopped short by the appearance of a particular woman blocking the path right in front of her. Pamela Isley looked almost normal in jeans and a shirt with the name of the coffee shop branded across it and a tray with a few empty cups in hand. It was clear she’d been returning them to the counter when Marinette had more or less ran into her.

The last time they’d met it had been just before the former’s plants decided to attack those within her garden. Though the plants hadn’t harmed anyone too bad, it had taken a lot of fighting and hurting of the plants before Marinette and her boyfriends were able to escape. As Guardian, Marinette knew the plants weren’t at fault, they felt the concentrated destructive energy on Plagg and Adrien, leading them to lash out as if they had to be on the defense. But Marinette couldn’t very well acknowledge that fact with one of the villains of Gotham. Especially as Isley had acknowledged Marinette’s own magical signature moments before the confrontation.

It had been some time since, so for the most part the incident had been put behind her, but never in her wildest dreams did Marinette imagine the next time she saw the woman it would be in the middle of a crowded coffee shop.

“Sit,” the older woman ordered, leaving no room to argue likely having read the desire to flee in Marinette’s eyes.

Knowing Pamela had knowledge that gave her leverage, Marinette quickly obliged finding an empty table towards the back that would offer them the most privacy. As she sat, she watched the woman she’d first met as Poison Ivy flit towards the counter to drop her tray and speak quickly to one of the baristas. Using the distraction, Marinette sent a text to Adrien to let him know what was happening. She didn’t feel in danger, but she wanted to be sure if anything happened he knew where she was and with who.

Making her way to the table, Pamela sat down in front of her and relaxed as she held her own large cup of coffee. Taking a sip, she didn’t return it to the table before asking, “did you enjoy it?”

Unsure of her meaning, Marinette looked at her in question, feeling silly when she gestured to the cup within her hand. “Truthfully…it might be the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had.”

Smiling genuinely, Pamela seemed to relax further into her chair. “I’m glad. Coffee beans don’t typically grow well in such a diverse climate as Gotham, but with my powers I’ve managed to cultivate something I am proud of.”

“Why?” Marinette wasn’t sure, but coffee growing and brewing didn’t seem like the likely hobby for someone like Poison Ivy.

“Why what?” The woman asked, but from the tilt of her lips Marinette could tell she knew what she was asking.

“Why coffee?” Marinette supplied.

“Easy, because most people drink it. Because the chains buy subpar beans and then cover the nasty flavor of their brews with enough sugar to make the taste unrecognizable, and then you can’t be sure if it’s a caffeine or sugar high your experiencing…And because at the end of the day I need to make a living, and while I’ve been known for my environmental terrorism, I no longer wish to live my life doing things many people call bad. “

“Does he know?” There was no need to be specific about who he was in the question, Isley knew.

“Since opening he has checked in a few times. In truth, we had an honest conversation after our last meeting, and I decided it was time to try something different. He got me in touch with your father to help make it happen, and Mr. Wayne has been sponsoring me ever since.”

The shock couldn’t be contained to keep it from finding its way onto her face, her father hadn’t told Marinette about this. Not that she’d expected him to tell her every little thing, but this seemed like something important. In fact, she betted this was something as the Guardian attempting to restore balance to the city she should have been made aware of.

Unsure what to say, Marinette looked around for something. “This is new, with a line like that at 3 pm?”

“Amazing, isn’t it? Turns out I can do more than plant a simple garden,” she said sarcastically, “I’m doing quite well, and your father has promised to fund match my revenue for the first year to help me buy land to continue cultivating my babies. With the understanding, of course, they don’t act like they did the other day,  and I do not return to crime, among a few other conditions…”

Tensing at the mention of the previous events, Marinette’s eyes locked with hers before noticing the fauna surrounding them crowding to create more privacy from prying eyes.

“I promised myself I wasn’t going to ask, and perhaps I won’t outright. But I want to be honest about what I know so you know…it only feels right.”

“Why?” Marinette asked for what she felt was the 100^th time. For some reason the woman’s actions were surprising her, for good reasons, but it wasn’t sitting right with the image of the woman she’d heard about.

Pamala looked a little taken aback at the accusation laced in Marinette’s tone, before smiling with understanding. “I’ve had a few conversations with my babies about their behavior after the incident. They were vague or perhaps their own understanding is limited, but I know we are the same and yet we are not.” The vagueness was appreciated and fortunately Marinette was able to grasp her meaning well. “They do know you are far more powerful than me, and possess something which is even more powerful than that.”

Pamela paused as if considering her next words. “Again, I decided I wasn’t going to ask, even if my curiosity is peaked. I hope perhaps one day I will be found worthy enough to share, and if that happens I will listen, know though my plants recognize you when you are around them, no matter what you are wearing.”

Marinette’s eyes widened in understanding, a new intense fear rising to the surface. The information meant Poison Ivy was aware of even more knowledge than she guessed, involving her entire family, not just her.

“What are you going to do with that information?”

Pamela looked at her as if reading a book, one Marinette couldn’t figure out the genre or if she was enjoying it.

“Nothing, and you do not need to fear I ever will. I feel we share a kinship which makes me feel protective of you and made me self-reflect on some of my choices, considering yours. I’m honestly tired, tired of a life of hurting people like they hurt my plants. I once thought it was like giving them a taste of their own medicine, but it does nothing. They do not change; in fact, they seem to take out more anger on nature in retaliation. Someone meaning harm to my plants aren’t going to stop because I choked them with one.

But perhaps working with you and your father,” her eyebrows rose to indicate to Marinette she meant in both of her father’s suits. “I can bring more attention to my cause the right way, and take care of the trash without offending him to the point he feels the need to interfere.”

“I would like that.” Marinette smiled tightly, still not sure of the woman’s sincerity, but willing to give her a chance.

“In truth, I choose to align with you. There is a fight coming, my babies felt it with your arrival and the way the city has been responding since.”

Marinette gave nothing away to confirm it was her own suspicions as well, it was deeper than the threat from the League of Assassins, or perhaps it was associated with.

“I believe you will be better for the city, so know you have my support going forward. You only need to ask.”

With her promise, Pamela Isley rose from the table taking her coffee with her, leaving Marinette to the rest of her day.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t normal, Talia knew that, but they weren’t normal as much as they pretended to the outside world they were. But never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she would get to participate in something so normal without an alternative motive driving it.

Picking out a homecoming dress wasn’t on the same level as picking out a wedding dress. The entourage was supposed to be close girlfriends, all trying on dresses together, posing and chatting as the dresses ranged from strong contenders to those meant only for a laugh. But when the homecoming dance became a topic of discussion at the dinner table, Talia had immediately suggested going to pick out the dress together despite the event still being well over a month away.

As a designer, and a major up and coming one at that, Marinette had insisted on making her own, suggesting instead a bonding trip to the fabric store instead. That had been the moment Talia had done something she thought she would never do before, she begged.

Somehow, truthfully a lot of guilt-tripping, Marinette relented under the condition Jon’s and Adrien’s mothers got to participate as well. Despite knowing there should have been some jealousy at the insistence, Talia found she had none. The fact her daughter thought highly enough of her to give her a Miraculous was one thing, knowing she wasn’t embarrassed to insist on meeting her boyfriends’ mothers felt different. A bunch of emotions Talia was not completely familiar with to properly label.

At the agreed upon hour though, she felt decidedly inadequate. For the past twenty minutes as they drove into the city, she’d been playing with her shirt to ensure perfection. The outfit she’d chosen was new and far more modest than she was used to wearing and yet she still felt lacking. Trained to pretend, she could blend into any environment, but with this she could not lie, she had to be herself and accept for it.

From the front Alfred kept glancing in the mirror, biting his tongue, not quite familiar enough to know if a comment could help her feel at ease. At her side, Marinette kept smiling, excitement making her oblivious to her mother’s plight.

Or so Talia thought, it wasn’t until Marinette took a bag from the footwell and placed it on Talia’s lap she realized how much her daughter had observed. Her eyes tilted as if lecturing though she shared no words. Talia carefully opened the canvas bag, unsure what she would find within on to find a silk fabric pooled at the bottom. Pulling it out she found a beautiful burgundy shirt.

Noticing the exchange in the mirror, Alfred raised the partition to give privacy to the back. Talia quickly exchanged the powder blue shirt for the darker one, based on the tag her daughter was the designer and Talia was amazed it had taken this long for her to obtain a Marinette original.

The design was similar to the style she normally gravitated towards, highlighting her assets without leaving her exposed. Modest enough to help her feel confident when meeting the parents, without leaving her feeling like she was pretending to be someone she was not.

Without turning her gaze from looking out the window, Marinette grabbed her hand and whispered. “Don’t try to be who you think they will accept. Be proud of who you are. I am.” The statement was punctuated by the squeeze of Talia’s hand, but Marinette made it nothing more and nothing less than that.

“You won’t be embarrassed?” Talia asked with confidence that made it sound more like a statement than a question.

Marinette’s head whipped around, startled by the comment. “By the way you dress?”

Talia nodded her head once, but did not move to meet her daughter’s eyes. While acting indifferent towards the answer, the conversation proved she was anything but.

“Not at all. I love your aesthetic. It’s not my own, probably because I didn’t inherit everything from you.” Marinette looked down at her own shirt and giggled at her little joke. “I think you do a good job of accepting what you were born with and highlighting it without being vulgar. So, what is there for me to be embarrassed about?”

Talia held her answer close; she’d watched movies and read magazines and books despite most believing her to find such things trivial. It made her all too aware how teenagers, in particular, where often embarrassed when their parents dressed outside of the norm, particularly when it ‘highlighted,’ areas they believed only those much younger should expose.

Without an answer, Marinette continued. “I have five outfits at home I’ve started making for you, if you change how you dress now, I won’t be able to give them to you and they’re some of my favorite designs.”

Talia shook her head at her daughter’s antics but squeezed her hand with gratitude from the reassurance. Just in time, as they pulled up to the boutique they’d agreed to meet at.

In front of the building, a woman was busy typing on the phone, Talia easily recognized her as Lois Lane. As the mother of her son’s best friend she’d been aware of the woman and her family’s identities for some time. Though no powers to speak of, Talia respected her abilities with the written word. If Lois Lane wanted the world to believe you were the enemy, all she had to do was write an article about you. From the way she was frantically typing on her phone, it appeared she was in the mist of doing just that.

When Alfred pulled over and opened the door, Talia stepped out and aside for Marinette to follow, just as Adrien’s mother arrived by taxi. There wasn’t as much information to be found on Emilie Agreste. Other than her being from an aristocratic family which she left to pursue acting, only to abandon that to marry Gabriel Agreste. The rest of her story was unknown, except to those who lived it with her. Talia hadn’t been given the details of that time and out of respect for her daughter she’d gone against her nature to pry.

The introductions were a little weird as none of the mothers were sure how to greet each other beyond a side hug and a smile, but fortunately Marinette was always capable of breaking awkwardness quickly. Guiding the mothers into the show room before they had to stand there awkwardly.

Racks upon racks of dresses lined the walls and aisles, ranging from night out, cocktail, to full on ballgowns. Having had a life of having everything made for her based on specifications she established, Talia felt overwhelmed by the options. She’d thought the excursion would be a fun hour of getting to act like every other mother and daughter, but now she recognized it as the trap it was, multiple hours of finding things that would end up being not right.

Beside her, Marinette didn’t look nearly as overwhelmed, considering the layout was like a fabric store the organized chaos made sense to her and she guided the mothers with determination and a clear plan to make the adventure as enjoyable as possible for all.

After the first ten minutes without a single item taken from the racks by Talia, she began to feel disheartened, but she had never failed a mission, this would not be the first. So, she changed tactics and stopped looking for Marinette and went with what she was more familiar with when dressing, the purpose. The dance would require the design to allow movement. The event was formal but not quite cocktail and definitely not black tie. With the new focus finding some options only took a matter of minutes before all four women had gone to the dressing room with their selections.

As soon as Marinette disappeared behind the grey curtain, Talia was finally alone without a buffer. It might have been new for her, but giving off the impression of belonging was second nature.

“If either of your sons break my daughter’s heart I know how to make them disappear.”

Unaware of the extent of Talia’s history with the League of Assassins nor her true abilities, it was Emilie who laughed at the statement as if it were a joke to break the ice, which had been Talia’s intension.

“Yes, well our little God of Destruction had already given a far more graphic but similar warning, so consider Adrien well warned.”

Looking between Emilie and Talia, Lois wasn’t 100% sure whether the conversation between the two was veiled threats or humor, but chose to join in regardless. “Bruce has shown Clark his contingency plan for Jon. Needless to say it’s a good one. I’ve even kept a copy to threaten Clark with if the need ever arises.”

All three-woman smiled and any lingering tension between them disappeared, and Marinette stepped out of the room to see the three actively engaged in conversation with each other.

The dress her daughter wore was beautiful, but something wasn’t right. All three stayed quiet as they tried to pinpoint exactly why, causing Marinette to shrink self-consciously.

“You look beautiful, but it looks more fitting for a bridesmaid.” Lois finally stated, her body curled slightly in case the statement gave offense.

Nodding her head in understanding, Marinette disappeared behind the curtain one more.

Lois shivered which caused Talia’s eyebrow to rise in curiosity.

“They’re too young, far too young. No offense to you Talia, or even you Emilie, but I’ve missed a few years of getting to raise Jon, I am not even ready for the thought of him leaving in the near future. And that had me thinking of the kind of dress which it usually accompanies.”

“Same,” Talia and Emilie echoed, causing the pair to look at one another for answers.

“Magical coma,” Emilie offered as her explanation.

“Lost in space,” Lois admitted.

“Sadly, our story isn’t one that can easily be pin down to a single cause, it can just be said that it’s mostly due to our time in the League.”

Marinette came out once more, but before the mothers could say anything she shook her head knowing the dress wasn’t right and immediately returned to the dressing room.

As her daughter left Talia thought about all of the reasons she was separated from her daughter, it wasn’t just a few years, the truth was it was most of her life. From having to give her to another family to raise as an infant, to not being able to be recognized as her mother when she finally came to Nada Parabat and of course more recently her years in Paris. And yet there wasn’t really any way to make up for any of that time, eventually Marinette would move on with her life to start her own family, and if she had to be a betting woman it would be with the sons of the two-woman sitting with her.

With Nooroo and Duusu in her purse, Emilie could sense Talia’s emotions. Risking decorum, Emilie lightly patted Talia’s knee. “It is amazing how the choices we make for ourselves, always have an effect on our children. Thank kwami our children have risen above our mistakes and have abandoned the legacies we wish them to have no part of.”

Talia nodded her head, finding herself in agreement. Unlike Damian who learned to follow his father’s path thanks to the guidance of his father and brothers, Marinette had always chosen her own. Despite the expectations and risk of not doing as her grandfather desired for her, she still never took the path of an assassin and chose to easily become a hero.

Nothing more could be said at the moment as Marinette came out in a lace dress. A tuille petticoat gave the skirt volume, while the bodice was cut with a sweetheart neckline with sleeves draping off the arms for an elegant effect. The lace was light pink with the fabric under it only slightly darker. While Marinette had the intension of paying homage in her outfit to the boys, this was purely Marinette and Talia was surprised she was able to say that with confidence.

“Perfect Habibti. No need to try on anything else, this is the one,” tears started to form in Talia’s eyes at the moment, glad she’d begged to be able to have it.

“I think we’ll be able to find perfectly complementary ties for the boys.” Lois said, moving over to the drawers the boutique filled with ties for such needs.

“You’re a vision Marinette” Emilie looked at her daughter as if she was the most beautiful creation and Talia could not help but wholeheartedly agreed.

Marinette blushed under the rain of complements, twirling slightly to show the swaying capabilities of the skirt. “Should I change and then we can grab lunch. I’ve found the most perfect coffee shop that could make this the perfect afternoon.”

Once the dress was paid for and placed in the car with Alfred, the four ladies walked down the street of Gotham chatting as the made their way towards Emilie’s apartment and the best coffee ever.

Chapter Text

Pushing open the front door the heavenly aroma of roasted coffee beans invaded Marinette’s senses. Knowing what the smell indicated her mouth watered with anticipation of what was meant to come. Only to be drawn back down to Earth by her mother’s comment.

“Habiti, they only serve coffee here.”

Puzzled, she looked up at the menu to find her mind had ignored the glaring defect when she’d craved coffee after a successful shopping trip. It was in part blamed on the focus of the last trip within being solely on obtaining the god’s nectar, easy to understand why she’d failed to realize a glaring deficit on the menu. The assumption she made was unfortunate, but she figured Ms. Isley wouldn’t be adverse to learning a few Dupain-Cheng recipes to help rectify the situation swiftly for the future. In the meantime, her shoulders bunched as she turned in embarrassment to face the three mothers for her blunder.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she wrung her hands together, “I didn’t notice the last time I was here. The coffee is really good though.”

None of the women seemed displeased at all with the news. Emilie playfully whispered to Lois, covering her mouth as if trying to keep what she was saying a secret between them. “Should we be concerned about her developing a coffee habit at such a young age?”

Lois laughed and shook her head. “You haven’t met Tim yet. If they made portable IVs he’d have one filled with coffee. A cup here and there won’t hurt her, especially with her schedule.”

Hearing the banter, but better aware of her daughter’s drinking habits, Talia asked rhetorically, “Marinette, how many cups a day are you drinking now?”

Knowing better than admit the truth, considering the way Lois and Emilie had already responded to the idea, she vaguely answered, “not a lot.”

From the corner of her eye Marinette caught her mother betraying her as she mouthed to the others ‘lies,’ But before she could try to defend herself, which honestly there wasn’t much she could use to contradict the truth, a body stepped in front of her blocking their path to the counter.

“Marinette,” the red head said, looking behind to amend her statement to include, “ and family. Come…I have a table empty at the back. Coffee’s on the house.”

Already embarrassed about the food fiasco, Marinette wasn’t about to admit she forgot to warn them exactly who owned the establishment they were visiting. Secretly she hoped by ignoring her blunder no one would notice or care to mention it. “Thank you Ms. Isley, but I’m not sure we’re staying. We were hungry and I didn’t realize you didn’t have any food on the menu.”

Without missing a beat, Pamela Isley placed her hand on her back and guided Marinette towards the same table they’d sat at the first time. Using her head to address the others to follow, she walked deeper into the café, talking as she led.

“Easily rectified. There is a bakery just down the street that delivers. I’ve been contemplating having them deliver some items in the morning to go with the coffee, seeing as while I’m good at some things baking is not one of them. Perhaps you would allow me this opportunity to get some feedback?”

“Oh, well if it helps your lovely establishment, how could we even think of declining your request for assistance?” Emilie smiled from behind Marinette, stepping around her to take a seat at the table Ms. Isley led them to.

Lois and Talia, aware of the villainous history of the woman before them were more hesitant. With two of their party following with ease, they followed but their steps were timider, especially as they realized the table they were led to had more fauna and therefore more privacy—for better or worse. From the way her mother was acting it was obvious Marinette was not the only one her father had been withholding information from.

Regardless, orders were given and Ms. Isley stepped away to fill them.

“Never thought I would see the day she turned over a new leaf.” Lois laughed at her own joke, sounding more like Adrien’s mother than Jon’s.

“Marinette has a way of making other’s see the best in what they could be.” Talia smiled down at her daughter, making her blush from the praise in front of her boyfriend’s mothers.

“Who is she, exactly?” Emilie asked innocently having noticed the other woman’s behavior before watching where the ex-villain had disappeared.

“Around here she is known as Pamela Isley or more notoriously Poison Ivy.” Lois answered as she looked around at the coffee shop. The design was simple; tables and chairs made from reclaimed wood among a garden of ivy and other greens tastefully decorating the wall.

“Oh, the one who can manipulate plant life. No wonder the space is so vibrant.” Marinette couldn’t help but notice how Adrien’s mother seemed unbothered by the revelation of the woman’s past as a villain and look more at ease with the plants around her.

“After our last meeting she approached my dad about opening a coffee shop. Apparently he saw the good it could do for her and the community. He’s even been working towards helping her to purchase land to continue more of her work in agriculture and botany with the understanding the efforts go towards legal endeavors.”

“Giving up on a life of crime?” Lois asked, the skepticism bleeding out from her words. Not that Marinette could blame her, too often those who said they would change for the better resorted back to a life of crime the moment it got ‘too hard.’ As a writer who followed the life of such ‘monsters,’ Lois likely knew such stories better than most.

Feeling the tension building in her mother’s arm, she lightly placed her hand on top of hers in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. The same opinion might have been held by Lois about her mother, but no one knew better than Marinette where her mother’s heart lay, and it wasn’t in the crimes her grandfather’s organization committed nor their purpose.

“Sometimes it is hard to see past our feelings to see the reality of our actions, the way they can do more harm than good, destroy the things we hope to protect. Being a part of the community will likely show her the value of it, the importance of protecting it alongside her plants. It is what father has always hoped for those in Gotham to see and strive for. A new way.”

All four’s attention turned towards the counter, just in time to see Pamela coming from behind with their orders. She moved with a beauty that could be compared to a skater gliding on ice and as she passed her many plants they all seemed to reach out as if welcoming her. Instead of ignoring the gesture, her head seemed to bob in recognition of each before they seemed to find their place once more affixed to the wall.

When she returned to the table it was with a small smile upon her lips, one which each at the table couldn’t help but returned. Finished with supplying the coffee as she readied to leave, Emilie asked her to stay. “We can’t give a very real review if you don’t stay to hear the first impressions.”

For a moment Pamela looked shocked at the offer, but a genuine smile emerged when she realized the rest of the table seemed in agreement, leading to her quickly acquiescing, “alright. Let me grab myself a coffee then.”

Surprisingly she didn’t leave, a wave at the counter and the barista understood the gesture with ease, bringing over a filtered coffee only moments later. “As much as the citizens of Gotham have come to appreciate my coffee, none have been as welcoming as to invite me for a chat at their table. The only time I can recall, I didn’t exactly give the person much of an option.”

Marinette giggled knowing who the woman was referring to.

“Are you truly surprised, of all the tables here we aren’t exactly made up of those who scare easily.” Marinette’s mother inserted before taking a sip of her coffee, eyeing the cup with a pleased expression, and ignoring the many references implied by the statement. The more you knew, the more you knew.

“I guess that is true, Talia Al Ghul.” Ms. Isley said the name as if she knew exactly the power implied behind it. “I met your father once, when he tried to recruit me for some projects. I did not like him. I could feel the poison running through his veins and so I declined. I am glad to see you are free from the same. I guess like me you’ve changed, no doubt with the help of your daughter.”

“I changed the day my children were born, it took time to act upon these changes. So, I guess I must say brava, you’ve accomplished the same in so little time. It is truly something I believe one should be proud of.”

Talia lifted her espresso in a toast that was free of the mockery such an action usually held. All glasses at the table rose to salute the same, but Pamela still seemed unable to believe the praise.

“Lois Lane, are you not usually one who writes to keep villains such as me behind bars.”

“This is true, but I would happily write a piece on the transformation of a reformed Gotham villain when proven wrong. Speak of the many things possible with a little bit of luck.” She winked at Marinette, knowing how her presence was battling the miasma which stained the city, allowing for those within who were once blinded by their anger to see with a new clarity.

It may not have been the intension of Lois’s words, but Pamela understood the reference having knowledge of it herself. It was clear as she looked around at those gathered at the table she was trying to piece together the extent of everyone’s own knowledge.

Marinette knew she needed to find a way to warn the woman at the table. With the knowledge known by each and the lack of understanding as to the extent of knowledge known by the others, they were at risk of discovering every secret if they weren’t careful. But the opportunity hadn’t presented itself to relay such a warning as of yet, not without the risk of exposing them all herself.

“While I appreciate the vote of confidence, I would much rather keep my establishment under the radar. Not that I am hiding the fact I own it; obviously, I am proud of what I’ve accomplished, I just don’t want those who believe change is not possible to come and burn it down.”

“Fair enough.” Lois admitted, taking a sip of her coffee with a pleased hum.

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with you though. Pamela Isley,” the woman introduced herself to Adrien’s mother in a way that Marinette swore she saw his mother blush from the fixed attention.

In her beautiful accent which paid homage to her upbringing in England and time in France she introduced herself. “Emilie Agreste, my son is one of Marinette’s boyfriend.”

Pamela looked closely at Marinette, making the connection between the two boys from the garden. One clearly the son of Lois Lane and the other the cause of her plants’ rebellion. The more obvious connection was not the one she was making at the time though; she was not looking at the mothers at all but her plants which seemed to be inching closer to the Emilie without the obvious hostility they showed her son.

The discomfort of knowing Pamela was uncovering more secrets crawled up Marinette’s spine. But it was tempered by the even stranger curiosity of what was happening as she watched Emilie blush at the assessment from their guest, her hand coming to rest over her right shoulder where Marinette knew the Peacock and Butterfly Miraculous rested, hidden from potentially prying eyes. Feeling something in the air but unsure exactly what, her eyes raced back and forth between her boyfriend’s mother and the coffee purveyor.

Before the truth of the moment could be revealed, though she was probably right with where her assumptions were heading, a number she wasn’t familiar with flashed on her phone’s screen. Accepting the call, she stood to excuse herself from the table so not to be rude and have some privacy.

As soon as the word hello passed her mouth, the frantic voice of Luka came out of the speaker. The panicked face Marinette couldn’t hide stopped all conversations at the table.

Chapter Text

As soon as the Chevy Impala crossed the boundary into Gotham Luka signed a breath of relief. Feeling a weight he’d been carrying heavily on his shoulders lessen, even if the burden still felt heavy. To make it halfway up the United States without being stopped, he’d gambled on a car he’d only paid $500 in cash for. Without an American license or insurance and the registration somewhere lost in the mail under the name of the owner he’d bought it from, it was worth it because he knew he couldn’t have the car traced back to him, as no one could know where he was heading.

Wrapped around the gear shift, the green mass known as Sass shot his tongue out of his mouth to taste the air. From the face he made he did not like what he found and looked back at Luka in concern, causing the rocker to feel more uneased than he had since the whole incident had begun.

Had he made the right choice?

It didn’t matter as choices were made and actions were taken.

Every choice he made was a risk, but he didn’t know what else to do, he needed guidance and did not want to risk compromising anything by answering questions over the phone. Pulling out the burner he’d just purchased from his pocket he dialed the number he knew by heart, a new one but memorized as if old.

The call connected after two rings, surprising him as he believed an unknown number would have been flagged as spam until he became persistent with his calls. Her melodic voice was like a breath of fresh air, as if he hadn’t realized he’d had a bag placed over his head for the last few days.

But the breath was cut short by the burden he felt, and he could not hide the fret in his voice as he answered. “Marinette, I’m in Gotham. I need to see you as soon as possible.”

Knowing Luka probably only a little less than his Ma and Jules, the panic in his voice told her everything he couldn’t say. No, it wasn’t negotiable. Yes, it needed to be as soon as possible.

In his ear a coffee shop was named before he disconnected the call. Plugging the shop into his phone’s GPS Luka immediately set off before the route was even finished calculating. Driving through Gotham traffic it took twenty minutes to weave through the throngs of the city to reach the busy street, one of the nicer ones with niche shops and nice apartment buildings towering high into the sky.

It took a second to find a place to leave the car which allowed him to pay by cash, but he managed and raced to enter the coffee shop, hoping Marinette remained despite his minor delay. Knowing he was close to his goal he took a second to collect himself, he was supposed to be the calm one and he needed to be once more if he wanted to ensure he was able to relay everything of note back to Marinette.

“Luka Couffaine,” a voice said casually, as if expecting him to walk into the shop. Closing his eyes he kicked himself for believing he wasn’t well known enough after a year of working with Jagged to be recognized. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d met a fan who believed it was a moment like this that was their fated meet-cute they could tell their future children. As many precautions as he’d taken he lamented the fact he hadn’t taken just a second to dye his hair, choosing instead to stuff his blue tips beneath the beanie Marinette had made him so long ago, short-sighted because it was the one he’d been photographed in too many times to not be recognized.

But he opened his eyes with renewed purpose when he realized he hadn’t been called Luke Stone, but by his legal name. The woman before him smiled warmly as if she understood he just figured it out. “My plants and I just love to listen to you and your father’s music when we wish to feel energized.”

It wasn’t what he expected to hear, so he looked at the woman before him. It took only a second to know the woman was more than her beauty with red hair curled around her sweetheart shaped face and piercing green eyes. What captivated him was the older woman’s song was singing the same tune as the plants surrounding her.

“If Marinette had simply stated it was you I was looking for, I would have felt more confident I’d recognize you.”

Another wave of relief washed over him, it had not been a fan—in the typical sense—who’d recognized him, he’d been expected by this woman because of Marinette. Perhaps he could make it through the ordeal without finding a photo blasted all over social media giving away his location and actions.

“Come on,” the woman gestured for him to follow, “she figured you would need some privacy, so I set you guys up in my office.”

Following the woman who still hadn’t introduced herself, Luka lowered his head as he walked through the throng of costumers visiting the quant coffee shop. The effort was pointless as none paid attention to him but the woman in front of him; their eyes locked on her with uncertainly, perhaps even a little bit of fear. Luka found their wariness to be unwarranted, her song was beautiful, caring, strong willed, but not threatening.

The office was behind the counter, but he’d thought he’d stepped through the wardrobe to Narnia. The other side was completely different from the establishment itself, whereas there were a fair number of plants gracing the coffee shop to give a very nature rich vibe, the office was like stepping into the rainforest. The only thing missing was the sound of a waterfall or the different animals that would call such a place home. Instead, there was a water spritzer sounding every few seconds, showering the room in a mist to keep it feeling humid.

Almost misplaced in the forest—but only by a smidgen—was a table made by planks of dead wood. Around it sat two woman he was not familiar with, along with Adrien’s mother and Marinette. It was a weird assembly, but knowing the family Marinette had ended up being a part of, expected.

When Marinette saw him she rose with a smile that managed to light even the darkest of times, his heart betrayed him by speeding up with the affection and longing he’d been able to ignore while on tour. The problem was she was something a heart could never forget if it ever beat for her. It took a second, but like always he tucked the feelings away. One day there would be someone who could replace her position in his heart, he just hadn’t found them yet.

Despite how it affected his lingering feelings he still wrapped her in a warm hug when she made her way from the table, arms outstretched ready to receive him. The embrace still felt like coming home, feeling complete after so many days of missing something. Touring with Jagged had been amazing and he knew it was his future to some degree, but so was standing beside Marinette and assisting her as a guardian and chosen.

“Sass,” a small voice excitedly squeaked before a blue kwami darted out of the large purse sitting beside Emilie towards Luka. At the same time six voices chided the kwami for exposing herself and the others.

It was Marinette’s voice which seemed to hallow out with an authority Luka had only heard her use when standing next to Ladybug, which caused the peacock kwami to stop dead in her tracks and look somewhat remorseful for the behavior. It wasn’t the kwami which held Marinette’s attention though, instead it was the woman who stood behind Luka at the door.

Turning he saw the green eyes of the woman blown wide as she looked at the kwami, but it was so quick he almost missed it before they returned to normal as if she completely understood what she was seeing and turning to lock the door.

The act didn’t surprise Luka as much as when the lock engaged the foliage surrounding it started to grow and bloom to cover the door, giving it a good sense of sound proofing. With the lack of green vines supposed to pass as clothing, Luka hadn’t recognized the woman behind him. But as soon as Luka had realized Marinette would be leaving Paris for Gotham he’d done a fair amount of research on the villains which plagued the city. With the simple actions of the plants, he knew he was standing in the same room as the villain known as Poison Ivy.

And yet, the connection didn’t feel right, which is why he didn’t crouch into a defensive position with her actions. Her song didn’t sing to him like she was one of the bad ones.  Not to mention the lack of reaction from those sitting around the table, it was obvious they thought the same.

Taking his hand, Marinette moved him to the table and gestured for Poison Ivy to join.

“You could sense them, couldn’t you?” Marinette gestured towards Duusu, who hovered closely to her Guardian, waiting for a punishment Luka knew Marinette would never hand down.

“Not me, my plants. They recognized a signature of magic on Emilie, Luka, you, and your friend from the gardens. They can’t identify what is causing it, just that there is something, something other than meta powers. You’re different though, I can read it because it seems to be coming from you rather than on you. And it feels like an echo of my own.” Poison Ivy flippedly stated.

“That is because both of your magics are remnants of mine,” Tikki emerged from the forest of plants, “creation.”

“Your magic?” Ms. Ivy looked confused, not at the presence of another fairy-like creature, but what she said. “But I’m a meta.”

“Long ago, we were captured and abusssed. Our powersss were sssyphoned to give magic to a human.” Sass left Luka’s pocket to join the conversation. “When we were finally resscued and freed the magic they took could not be returned and was sscattered across the world. Finding home in humanssss to give them just a pinch of our powerssss. They became what you call metasss. Over the centuriesss the magic ssseems to have begun to consssolidated again making certain individualsss even more powerful than past generations. When you passs so will your magic, and sso it will be until the end of time.”

Luka knew the story well, having been aware it was Duusu’s magic found within him, her empathy showing up in his ability to read a person by hearing their internal song. Ms. Ivy having just learned the history, seemed to take the information about as well as he did the first time hearing it; understanding better who she was and why, but finding the knowledge changed nothing.

“Ms. Isley, I know I probably owe you an explanation, and I know you can keep this to yourself,” Marinette looked pointedly at the woman in a way to relay it was threat and not a statement before continuing, “but I know Luka isn’t here for a rehashing of the Order’s history.”

Luka took a deep breath knowing Marinette could already tell he was more tense than usual and what he had to share was clearly not good news. He wasn’t sure what it would change, but change something it most definitely would.

“I don’t know how, and I don’t know who. But I am fairly confident someone has figured out I am in possession of a Miraculous.”

What surprised him most after his declaration wasn’t Marinette’s reaction to the news, it was the woman who looked too similar to her she couldn’t be anyone else but Marinette’s mother, who stood with fear reflected in her eyes. “What makes you certain?”

“Their song,” was all he had to say for Marinette to release the breath she was holding, in a way he knew was her facing the reality of his words and the uncertain future they promised.

“What else,” she asked, knowing him hearing a bad song would not have been the only thing leading him to that conclusion, something more had to have happened.

“Da and I were doing a meet and greet at the venue in Miami. A woman touched the Miraculous. I could tell it was deliberate, it was the only thing she touched and her contact caused an electric shock up my arm as if it was a warning. I couldn’t help but pay attention to her at that point and her eyes couldn’t hide the greed her song sang.”

“But she didn’t get it?” Marinette asked, knowing the answer considering the presence of Sass. But if she was aware he had it and hadn’t taken it, it begged the question what was the purpose of her actions?

The obvious conclusion was the most chilling.

“Security noticed my unease and moved her away. Still, something told me I didn’t want to wait around to see if she tried another method to get to it. So, I went to the junk yard, bought a beater, and made it up here without stopping for anything other than the bathroom, gas, and a little sleep.”

The jungle went eerily silent as they took it all in. The second chance Miraculous was safe, but for how long and at what cost.

“What did she look like? The woman who touched you?” Marinette’s mother asked, her expression hard, like she already suspected the answer.

“Brown hair, brown eyes,” Luka took a second to size her up now she was standing, “shorter than you, but similar in build.”

“Did she have an accent when she talked?” Marinette asked, from the way she was looking at her mother they had drawn the same conclusion as to who the woman was .

“She didn’t say much, but there was definitely an accent. Didn’t strike me as off considering most people in Miami do, but now I think about it I wouldn’t have pegged it as Hispanic.”

“Russian?” Talia asked, but Luka could only shrug. There had been less than a sentence shared between them so he couldn’t be sure. While English was his first language, he’d spent too much of his life in Paris, so nitpicking accent in English wasn’t his forte.

“It is safe to assume it was Nyssa. I was hoping she wouldn’t catch on, but that was naïve. Based on the fact she realized Luka has a Miraculous, I am betting they traced the use of Miraculous from Paris, realizing the tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir were anything but. The silence we’ve heard was likely them consolidating their efforts to figure out if there were any Miraculous left on my civilian acquaintances.”

Marinette scrambled to get a stead hold of her cellphone, in her fluster she managed to flip it around a few times before she death gripped it with one hand and typed away on it with the other. “I need to call Alix.”

“Don’t worry,” Luka stepped forward, his hand stopping her from dialing Alix’s number. “She was the first call I made. I told her she needed to return to her burrow. Figured she’d get the downlow from there.”

Marinette’s shoulders lowered in relief and Luka smiled bittersweetly, glad he could deliver some good news along with the bad. With his fingers he lightly toyed with the bracelet on his wrist, attracting the attention of his kwami. Sass nodded his head in recognition of the unspoken goodbye before Luka removed the Snake Miraculous.

When Luka held the bracelet out for Marinette to take she didn’t exactly look surprised, but she still hesitated to take it, looking up at Luka for an explanation.

“We both know I am vulnerable if I have it, and I’m not quite in a position yet to stay here and help you fight this battle. It’s best I head back before the next gig, hopefully I was able to throw them off and they won’t know I warned you. We’ve got four cities left before New York and the end of the tour. After that, if you need me I’m here, otherwise you know I’m on the next flight or as fast as my new ride can take me if you call.”

Marinette took the Miraculous, but it was her mother who spoke. “They already know you are here. As smart as your actions were, you were going up against professionals. You never stood a chance.”

“Still,” Marinette interrupted her mother from continuing, “you are right. It is best you go and finish the tour, if you finish early and come here Jagged and Penny, as much as I love them, would follow out of concern. A fight is coming, and I hope to save as many as I can from having to suffer from it. Of course, when the time is more convenient I hope you will join us. But Luka,” she paused waiting to collect her thoughts, her song slowing down and turning sorrowful, “please be careful. Don’t for a second believe you are no longer a target because you are free of the Miraculous, it might actually make you more of one.”

Luka walked up to Marinette, he would have loved more time to catch up but now wasn’t the time, he tried to express it in the strength of his hug. “You’re probably right about being a target. I’ll try to see if I can get out of the last few cities, I’m only the opener after all, Jagged can easily find someone willing to take my place.”

“I can’t ask that of you Luka. No matter what’s happening here, it’s just another day in Gotham, another year as a hero. We can’t put our life goals on hold because of it. Right now, we’re still in a holding pattern as we wait for them to move, if I need you I’ll call. In the meantime, I might be able to ask Jon’s brother if he’s willing to play bodyguard. I know for a fact he’s a huge fan of Jagged so it won’t be hard to convince him if he’s free.”

“Sure, Mari.” Luka stepped away from his friend and gave a polite nod towards all the other ladies in the room before stepping out after the plants receded from the door. It felt like losing a piece of himself to go without Sass, and he couldn’t help but feel like he might have made a big mistake.

Chapter Text

Watching Luka leave was hard. Having an experienced holder for Sass would be invaluable considering the coming storm. But she couldn’t ask him to do that, not after Paris. As bad as it was for her and Adrien to recover, Luka had an even longer journey. While Marinette was aware of some of the horrors he saw, she knew he kept many of the futures that didn’t come to pass close to his chest, they became his own nightmares to keep him awake at night. Out of all of them, he deserved the chance to be a teenager chasing his dreams, before he could even entertain returning to a life where the nightmares would only build.

Looking down at the Miraculous, Marinette suddenly felt inadequate as their Guardian with her identity already compromised. For centuries the Order had protected the location of the Miraculous, safeguarded them from the League of Assassins, and yet, in less than two years after taking the role of Grand Guardian their biggest enemy knew exactly where they were.

A hand on her shoulder ended her stare off with the Miraculous of the Snake and she turned to see her mother looking down at her with a bittersweet smile upon her face. “We should likely go and tell your father what happened.”

Nodding her head, Marinette walked to the door as if on autopilot, realizing after a moment she’d completely ignored the others in the room, not sure though what to tell them. They likely recognized the gravity of the situation to varying degrees and she wasn’t sure if she should fill them in more knowing their sons were involved now, unless she used her breath to convince them to leave.

Not that she was sure she wanted that either, she needed Adrien and Jon as much as she needed her family.

As expected when they exited the café, Alfred was already waiting for them. Unwilling to allow the recent events to sour her experience, Talia fought to keep a lively conversation going with Emilie and Lois as she ushered them into the vehicle, respectfully acknowledging Ms. Isley with the simple promise of keeping in touch before the doors closed. The battle was not as successful as she wished as silence descended within the car the moment it pulled away from the curb.

Normally such silence would bother Marinette, but she found herself too preoccupied by her thoughts to care. Protection of the Miraculous through the millennia was guaranteed by the secrecy surrounding them and an order of monks hundreds strong to ensure it. Yet here she was, a single Guardian, with allies sure, but none she trusted with the power the Miraculous tempted or for those she did time to properly train with the knowledge.

Before she knew it they were pulling in front of the manor. Standing at the doorway was her family, Adrien, Jon, and Jon’s father. As soon as the car stopped Marinette was out the door and into the arms of her father.

What made Paris so hard was the inability to share the burden with anyone other than Adrien, even back then she knew how amazing it was they pair didn’t crumble under the pressure. While one could argue to a degree the League of Assassin’s didn’t appear as formidable as some of the more intelligent and independently driven akumas, Gabriel Agreste was nowhere near the level of intelligence nor cunning as her aunt. Whatever was coming their way would be as difficult if not more so than Paris and having the ability to comfort and be comforted by a large number of loving individuals who understood was likely going to be the only thing which kept her from crumbling, especially as many were adults while she was still a child.

Despite being perhaps a little too old for the gesture, Bruce held her head down on his shoulder as he stroked her hair calmingly as he silently carried her into the manor. Having missed years of such affection and comfort, he would not miss any opportunity to treat her in such a fashion fate and time had stolen from him, especially as the boys would never allow him such liberties. Closing her eyes, she allowed her father to guide her, taking the moment to not think about anything before she would have to think about it all.

Moments later he was lowering her down and she opened her eyes to find herself in the dining room. Everyone including Emilie, who looked equally concerned and out of place, gathered to sit around the large table. The kwami’s flew from their holders to gather at the center where they could converse as equals to the humans.

Marinette took the opportunity to put on the Snake Miraculous so Sass could join them. As he materialized he looked at her guiltily, something Marinette felt saddened by. Reaching out, she lightly stroked under his neck and smiled. There was no fault that could be given to the little kwami, just like there could be none placed upon Luka. Marinette was at fault, believing those who coveted the box for centuries wouldn’t recognize their usage. Naively believing Nyssa would abandon her grandfather’s search after his death and focus on her own pursuits. Which she should have known given their history would have been her family anyway, considering the jealousy between sisters and Bruce.

Settled, Alfred came from the hallway only moments later with the Miraculous box in tow, knowing before she did its presence would likely be required. Releasing the kwami’s was out of the question for now. Having six of them out was more than enough, adding nine more would be chaos. But, having the ability to use the knowledge of Wayzz or others if required was a bonus.

“Your mother texted the basics, but would you explain what happened?” Bruce leaned over his elbows giving Marinette all of his attention before the rest of the table did the same.

“Luka has been my holder of the Snake Miraculous since Paris. The plan is to complete his training to become a Guardian when he completes his tour with Jagged.” A few of her brothers squirmed in excitement at the mention of one of their favorite rockers, but remained quiet. “In Miami, they were doing a meet and greet when a woman approached him who seemed too interested in his bracelet. So much so, she touched it and Luka felt like a jolt of energy sparked up his arm as if a warning. I can’t be certain, neither can mom, but we suspect it was Nyssa.”

“Which means the League of Assassins knows you are possession of the Miraculous and are targeting past allies to check if they are still in possession of theirs too?” Tim deduced.

“Stands to reason. Thanks to Ra’s efforts to locate them in the past, they are likely familiar enough with the jewels to recognize them on a person they suspect to be in possession of one. Those close to Marinette during her time in Paris would likely be the first suspects to be likely holders.” Talia offered the table.

“For what aim? If they determined Luka had one why didn’t they take it when he was vulnerable and ill-prepared?” Barbara asked.

“To find the Grand Guardian,” Marinette offered. “While it might be safe to assume I was the Guardian due to the fact those close to me are in possession of some of the Miraculous, by putting one of my chosen on high alert he did exactly what they wanted…returned it to the Guardian for safe keeping since his identity was exposed.”

“Confirming their suspicions by following him to find who and where the Guardian is in order to get to all of them.” Adrien added.

“You’ve held who your chosen are close, Marinette, but would you be willing to share who else you’ve entrusted so we can aid you in getting them here safely? Considering Luka has probably given them the information they desired – through no fault of his own – any other holder would likely find themselves victims of theft.”

Marinette nodded her head in agreement to her dad’s statement. “You’ve met all the kwami’s but two, Sass being one. The only other holder still in possession of her Miraculous is my keeper of time. Luka has already warned her to burrow, she is safe from their reach, but it means she will only be in touch when she feels she has no choice but to contact me.”

“Only when the end of the world is guaranteed.” Adrien added more to himself, taking Marinette’s hand, remembering the few times they ran into Bunnix after she burrowed deep during his father’s reign.

Across the table, Jason looked at Adrien as if trying to determine if he was kidding. But when he couldn’t decide he inquired, “you’re serious?”

“Bunnix,” Marinette punctuated the name, “can see the past, present and technically the future, before you ask it’s more like she can come from it. Her job is to ensure the best outcome for the world. With this power many assume she would intervene often to prevent death, destruction and despair. During our time in Paris, I too found myself guilty of expecting the same, shamefully so. But her job is to intervene only when it can’t be avoided. Early intervention can cause worse calamities. Like a Butterfly Effect; preventing a death could lead to more, preventing destruction of a town could bring the end of the world. It’s not a job anyone should be asked to do, to make those decisions, but if you ever get to meet Alix you’ll understand why she is the only person I’ve ever met I believe the responsibility could be given to.”

“The League of Assassins possessing the Miraculous Box would likely be such a calamity. Therefore, if at any point they might succeed we will see her before this is through.”

“—But losing her would be worse, so I wouldn’t expect her to come until we have lost many if it comes to that,” Marinette finished for Damian.

“Should we involve the Justice League,” Clark asked, looking at Bruce for guidance instead of Marinette.

“No,” her father replied curtly, “anyone involved would learn of our identities. We could of course include only those aware of them already, but there is still so much information my daughter needs to keep a secret that could be exposed. It is our duty as her family to protect her and the Miraculous.”

Despite her best efforts, from the conviction in her father’s voice, Marinette felt tears gather in her eyes. Realizing for the first time in a long time, there was an Order, her family. Perhaps they were not trained in the same way as the monks of the past, but their dedication to the preservation of the autonomy of the Miraculous, to protect them, was as constant as those from the past. Perhaps the Wayne legacy was now two-fold.

“Perhaps we should at least apprise Diana of what is happening. Bunnix sounds like a solid back up, but having her be able to take the box to Themyscira could come in handy.” Tim suggested looking to Marinette for guidance instead of their father.

“I would prefer that to be a last resort as well. We will be left vulnerable not using the assets we have. While well trained to be the best amongst them, we are only a few standing against an army of assassins.

“So, what now?” Stephanie asked.

“We prepare for war.” Jon stated as if it were obvious.

“Yes, but how?” Stephanie rolled her eyes.

Marinette turned to Adrien’s mother, ignoring Stephanie’s question for the time. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but they likely figured out Adrien’s involvement instantly. It would be safer if you remained in the manor until we figure this out. Once we’ve neutralized the threat, I will use my guardian magic to erase their memories of the knowledge they possess so you can return to your life, but I need proximity and to know exactly who has any information that shouldn’t before I can do that.”

“Fortunately, Nyssa will not have shared the details of what they are after or why with many, which is why she approached Luka alone. If we can get a hold of the top circle the job will be over quickly, but that is the hard part, I have no knowledge of who is included in that group any longer,” Talia shared, looking as if it was a failure on her part.

“Okay,” Emilie agreed with a smile that showed no trepidation, and despite what they were up against Adrien appeared happy with the suggestion.

Marinette used the opportunity to turn and offer the same to Lois. “I know Superman can protect you, but if you would prefer to be closer to Jon, I know you already have a room here at your disposal.”

“Thank you, Marinette. But I imagine being in Metropolis we won’t be such a ready target.”

“She’ll accept.” Clark spoke louder than his wife, earning him a glare that could kill if it had any powers like her husband’s behind it.

Holding his hands up he tried to appear domineering while not completely stepping on Lois’s autonomy. “I know you’re independent, but this is the League of Assassins. Despite no powers, when the Justice League has had run-ins with them it has not been pleasant. Not to mention our family is involved this time, likely with our identities as exposed as the others. Jon’s relationship with Marinette will likely be used against her, even if he stepped away now. I have no doubt they would try to get to me too, and the best way they can do that is use my greatest weakness, which isn’t kryptonite, it’s you!”

All of the fight still in Lois bled out with Clarks sweet words. “Metropolis still needs me, but I will feel better knowing you’re here safe with our son.” He kissed his wife’s forehead and turned back to the table, closing any further discussion on the matter.

“While here I would prefer you wear a Miraculous for your protection. Sass is a wise and calming companion, or we can discuss if one of the others might be more aligned with you.” It took a second for Lois to nod her head, it was a risk putting another Miraculous in circulation when it would be safer in the box, but while her brothers had training to protect themselves, Jon’s mother was no match against a trained assassin. “Either way, I am sure Sass would appreciate a short time to catch up with the rest of his family.”

Without waiting for her answer Marinette took Sass’s Miraculous off her wrist and placed it into its slot within the box. While she could have the reunion play out before them, privacy for their sanity and the kwami’s was the obvious choice.

But as soon as the box closed a light surrounded the egg-shaped box and a magic pulsed across it before expelling out into the room. Without thought Marinette pressed open Sass’s compartment and took his Miraculous out once more. Placing the bracelet on, the small snake materialized and looked at her with wide eyes, his color dull as if he was moments away from getting sick.

“What happened,” she asked, panicked by his expression and the presence of an unknown magic.

“They’re gone.”

Chapter Text

It had been a week since the Miraculous in the box had disappeared. They weren’t completely sure what had occurred, but it was easy to hypothesize Nyssa had touched the Snake Miraculous to place a spell upon it. That spell when in contact with the mother box or perhaps just other Miraculous transported them to a different location. The exact location was as known as the actual spell, but they were all well aware the nine Miraculous were now in the hands of the League of Assassins.

For most of the summer the family had felt itself in a waiting game, and as if the League knew it was the greatest torture for them it continued. Every move they made the Bat family tried to trace, but only silence seemed to meet them. It caused mounting frustrations and the need for the family members to keep themselves more isolated from each other as tempers flared from the feelings of incompetence.

Worse yet, despite knowing time was ticking closer to the first of likely many altercations, Gotham’s villains no longer waited in the shadows despite the increased aggression of the city’s vigilantes. The city felt as much as the vigilantes did, the decrease in the summertime criminal activity was not the break they wanted, merely the silence before the storm.

Knowing this, Damian spent all of his free time within the cave’s gym, fighting whoever was free to sharpen his skills to prevent what happened early—his defeat at the hands of his aunt and her minion—from happening again.

Today he walked into the cave with both Jon and Adrien in his shadow. While more in the house had previously made him uneased as it meant more people within his personal spaces, Adrien was surprisingly quite agreeable, not forcing himself into space without permission, noticing when a Damian wished to be alone. A trait Jon lacked in the beginning, though his family would argue it saved Damian from becoming a complete hermit.

Even better, Adrien was willing to acknowledge Damian superiority in many facets and was willing to learn to overcome his shortcomings. While not as proficient a fighter as he or sister, Adrien was a fast learner, and his sister had done him well in his foundations during their tenure in Paris. The time he spent training his sister’s partner was enjoyable and he found himself thriving as a teacher with such an excellent pupil.

Learning would not occur today however, as they did not find silence in the cave as expected but the echo of a gun. Stepping into the chamber Jason stood in front of the row of screens with the gun which shot foam bullets, aimed at them. The act was not unusual, it was the reason such a gun was easily found near the computer chair, Jason had started with real bullets some time back but with the budget for new computer screens growing at an alarming rate Tim found an alternative. What made the behavior odd was as soon as the gun was emptied and the desired result not achieved; Jason took the Glock at his side and chose to shoot with real bullets.

The glass shattered, falling down on the floor below into even smaller pieces. Still Jason didn’t seem to find the release he was looking for. Such a display of raw, unfiltered anger hadn’t been seen since the madness still lingered in his head. It was of great concern to Damian who’d grown even closer to Jason in the last few weeks after the wake-up call he’d given him.

Turning, Damian gestured for Adrien and Jon to continue on, “I will join you shortly,” he muttered under his breath knowing the two with superhearing would hear it before walking towards Jason.

“Have you not learned shooting things will not solve your problem?”

Jason jumped and turned to glare at Damian. Attempting to look as if his younger brother had not been successful in sneaking up on him. Rolling his eyes, he got up from his chair and headed toward the locker which held the spare screens. “Just as much as you learned not everything is solved by the sharpness of your katana,” he retorted before grabbing one of the boxes and the ladder which would be required for the new install.

For a few minutes Jason went about completing his work in silence, which Damian allowed so it could not be used as an excuse not to talk when he finally did. With the task finished, Jason returned to the chair he’d been occupying as if Damian was not standing there and reopened the search which had been the cause of his frustration.

On the screen was the ship manifest for Gotham’s port. On it were a bunch of crossed out entries and a few highlighted ones happening in the future. From a quick scan there wasn’t a common denominator between those highlighted, as if Jason was striking with a stray dart instead of one with intention.

“Perhaps if you use your voice instead of your gun you might be able to find help in getting answers.”

Jason laughed, “that’s rich coming from you.”

The words hurt, they felt like the kind of verbal lashing Jason would give him when the madness drove his tongue and the shared sadness and feelings of guilt towards their sister’s supposed death ruined a real chance for a relationship. Damian had thought them past this, but perhaps he was wrong.

“When facing a person, I would acquiesce your method would likely produce your desired results, but against a computer, I am afraid both your methods and mine would only result in permanent damage and the chance for answers nill.”

Facing away from the computer, Jason considered him for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he nodded his head to an internal thought he did not share. “Sure, we’ll play it your way. Can you explain how there are more drugs on the streets in the last week with no obvious answer how they are getting into the city.” 

Yes, Jason’s personal crusade, the War on Drugs to keep them out of street kids’ hands to prevent them from becoming addicts and allow them to exit the circle they usually befell. Damian would be of help in this mission, as it was a brother’s duty to find interest in common with family, making their quest his own.

“Explain further.”

“My kids are saying the dealers are moving more products, at lower prices, no less. Suggesting supplies are up. As far as I can tell, the drugs are nothing new, more of the same stuff from out of country. Just higher volume. Yet, I can’t determine their source, no new deliveries by ship, land or air. Three kids OD’d this week alone, from the volume they were able to get their hands on.”

“Have you been able to narrow down whose dealers are responsible?”

“Falcone’s”

Damian turned, Falcone was definitely one of the pains in his father’s side because he had guys who were loyal enough to take whatever bullet for him or could pay to make sure they would. “Falcone’s not that smart. He wouldn’t be able to move a large amount of drugs without us being able to catch on.”

“I know…” Jason stated nodding his head as if he’d drawn the same conclusion, the frustration from earlier building as he blankly looked at the manifest before him. “I know!”

“So, who’s he working with.” Damian questioned rhetorically, knowing if they answered that question they’d break the case.

Chapter Text

The heart rate monitor spiked every few seconds filling the otherwise silent room. The steady beat should have been reassuring, but as Stephanie stared down at her friend she couldn’t find much to feel good about.

Too many times she found herself in a similar situation, looking down at a victim with their eyes closed, the sound of the monitor the only sign in the room they’d been successful in saving at least their life. But it was different when it was someone you knew, someone you cared for on a personal level. And it was another thing when their eyes were closed, at least then you could believe they were dreaming of happier things other than what had brought them in. But Stephanie’s friend Michaela was staring at the ceiling, a look of horror frozen on her face.

Black Bat and Batgirl had happened upon what they thought to be an attempted assault, catching the perp in what they thought was the beginning of the act. But the state they’d found Steph’s friend in…she had to have witnessed or been the victim of something that’d traumatized her before she was found by the perp.

When the hospital door opened, Stephanie didn’t bother to turn to see who entered. The cops wouldn’t come for a statement until the hospital told them Michaela had awaken, the doctors were in a holding pattern with a nurse coming in once an hour to check on her, which left only Tim with the result of their own independent drug test.

Tim took the seat across from her, looking at Michaela for any noticeable changes. Finding none, he turned to look at Stephanie, shaking his head to deliver the news. “Nothing, not a single unknown substance was found in her blood. Which means she had to have witnessed something that caused her to be in this state.”

“What could she have possibly seen to make her end up like this?”

The question was asked more rhetorically than anything else, didn’t stop Tim from trying to answer, “we’ve seen a lot of bad things in Gotham, but I can’t imagine the type of thing someone would have had to see to end up like this.”

Stephanie turned to look at her friend, finding it odd that aside from her eyes being wide open, the only other movement was the slow rise and fall of her chest, not even short or panic like.

“Is Cass back?” from tracking the perp who had managed to slip away from them the night before.

“No.” there was an unspoken meaning in the single word. No trace, no evidence, no leads.

Stephanie sighed deeply before resting her head against the edge of the bed. Batgirl had tried to follow the perp, calling it quits a few hours later, and then Stephanie immediately went to the hospital and had stayed close by ever since.

From the position she rested her head she could feel the lightest movement of the sheets. Raising her head a little, she looked at her friend’s hand and found her finger twitching. Registering what she’d witnessed Stephanie’s back jolted straight up before she pushed to stand over Michaela, her eyes darting around her body to determine if there was any other sign of movement.

When she’d all but thought she’d imagined it Michaela’s finger moved again.

“Tim, get the doctor!” Even without an explanation, he was out the door and at the nurse’s station without a second to spare. With the Wayne name a doctor would be in the room as soon as one was free.

“Kay?” Stephanie tried, hoping another sign would come from her friend, a sign she was coming out of whatever she’d suffered from.

Knowing better than to expect a miracle, she wasn’t completely disappointed when her question was met without an answer, but a second later her friend said her name as if the ability to say anything was like a prayer had been answered.

From training and experience she knew the worst thing she could do was immediately ask what had happened. She needed a moment, not only for her body to adjust but her thoughts to process the information that would undoubtably begin filling her mind again. Trying to make her re-live the worst moment of her life, so soon without a trained person to help her through it, could push back any hope of healing in the near future.

Instead, she tried to comfort and informed Michaela of information she would care to know about to prevent her from panicking. “Kay, you’re okay. You are at Gotham General Hospital. You were saved by the Bats last night and they brought you here.”

“I know.” Kay replied, eerily calmly, trying to sit up despite all of the monitors on her body. “I wasn’t able to move my body, but I was awake for it all.”

Despite her better judgement and training, the investigator in Stephanie won. “Do you remember what happened to you then?”

“Yea,” Michaela answered flatly.

“Sorry,” Stephanie felt a ping of guilt, “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I was wrong to ask.”

“No, it’s okay. I would rather start by talking to a friend, maybe then I won’t feel so crazy.”

Tilting her head, Stephanie looked at her friend with eyes that surveyed her body based on her weird word choice, likely not helping Michaela feel any more confident in telling her story. But fortunately, she was used to Stephanie, the person who would shed the carefree attitude the moment anything happened, and someone who always seemed to need to get to the bottom of things. It wasn’t personal or an opinion on a person, it was just her mind processing all the information at her disposal to get answers.

“I heard you guys talking, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you’re thinking. Or rather the experience was frightening, and it would have been a lot worse if I hadn’t been saved in time, but it wasn’t the traumatic experience you think it was.”

Taking a deep breath, Michaela searched her memories. “I was walking home from the University’s Library. I lost track of time writing a term paper and didn’t realize I was leaving as late as I did. I was a few blocks away when I was grabbed from behind and I felt a jab to my back.”

“Like a needle?” Stephanie asked, wondering why their test hadn’t been able to show any foreign traces in her bloodstream then. Perhaps whatever toxin—likely an experiment from someone like Crain—didn’t enter the blood stream but went directly to the brain up the spinal column?

“No, it wasn’t sharp. He yelled something and then punched me in the back, not even that hard, I barely felt it. But as soon as he did I couldn’t move. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t move them, the only thing that seemed to work like normal was my breathing. Forcing me to watch and listen, with limitations.”

Sitting back in her chair Stephanie tried to process what she’d been told, but what she’d described sounded like something that had only been seen in movies or in a case of extreme physical or mental trauma; the idea of someone being trapped in their body.

“Before you ask, I know it was a guy, but I never got a good look at him. My eyes wouldn’t focus past the point they were fixed when I was first jabbed. I know his intentions were to assault me, but he didn’t, Black Bat and Batgirl stopped him before he could do anything more than threaten.”

Nodding her head, Stephanie felt a little relief, but it was short lived. What if they hadn’t gotten there in time, what will happen to the next woman the perp targets?

Michaela smiled bittersweetly and looked past Stephanie, causing her to turn and look at the door where Tim stood waiting, holding back the doctor to prevent him from entering. Done with her story, he moved his arm to allow the doctor to attend Michaela. In the meantime, Tim looked at Stephanie, the silent communication formed over the years said the same thing back to each other.

‘This was only the beginning.’  

Chapter Text

Without a need for a signal between the pair Nemer and Batman melted out of the shadows to stand behind the police Commissioner in the center of the large bank vault. As Gordon turned he looked shocked to find the pair, unusual to find the exact combination together without the stealth of night.

But today, Stephanie, Tim and Cass were out following up on an attempted assault from the night before; Damian was training with Jon and Adrien in the cave; Marinette was taking a free day to finish some designs; Jason was working on a case involving the street kids; and Dick and Bab’s were preparing for a stake out for that evening. Leaving Talia, the only one available to accompany Bruce to the daytime robbery.

Not that he was complaining.

It was a first for Batman; to stand solo beside someone in Gotham who wasn’t Robin, or rather to say a prior Robin. To stand with someone he hadn’t mentored to become an equal, but rather someone who was an equal from the start, someone in fact who could probably claim to have once been his better.

His younger self may not have agreed but it felt right. While Nemer may never stand like this with him in front of the Justice League or the world, in Gotham he was happy to have this become the norm as both Batman and Bruce Wayne. Especially as his children desired, and to a degree required, the chance to spread their wings.

“What do you know?” a feminine voice broke the standoff.

It took only a second for Gordon to snap out of his shock, knowing full and well who was behind the new mask—though he had no knowledge of the mask’s magical properties—but still surprised to find her taking the lead. “Not much…actually nothing at all.”

Batman looked stoic, his expression and posture unchanged despite the assessment. “What happened?”

“Someone broke in and stole all of the safety deposit boxes…I mean all of them.”

Batman looked around, noticing for the first time, much to his chagrin, the vault was in fact empty of the usually high standing lockers. When they first surveyed the room he’d assumed the absence had been due to a redesign or a move from the vault to a different location after the last break in. Not for a second believing their absence was due to being removed in their entirety during a robbery; not broken into and the content taken, the whole box, at least 300 lbs. a stack, gone.

That was impossible though, not without some kind of evidence.

“Who’s responsible?”

Gordon looked around, as if he didn’t want to admit the truth in front of his men. “Not a clue. Cameras were on, don’t seem tampered with at all and yet they caught nothing outside of the vault and the internal ones weren’t triggered. Not a single clue as to how they got inside, much less out.”

“What about the camera’s surrounding the bank, they catch anything?”

“Nothing. No one approached the walls, no signs of someone entering the sewers in a radius that would make sense. It’s like someone just snapped and appeared inside the vault, snapped again and took everything with them.”

Despite his best efforts, and a friendship that spanned over a decade, Batman looked at Gordon incredulously. Of course, with the mask covering most of his upper face Gordon wouldn’t notice, but he was truly stupefied, not believing for a second there was no evidence. Making him wonder what the Commissioner was hiding and why.

Chancing a look at his wife and partner, her own reaction was much more visible with the magic mask conforming with her face to allow her full range of emotions to be witnessed. While he knew it would not be something she would execute, she looked about ready to snap someone’s neck.

Speaking more to himself than the police, “but there had to be something. With the number of boxes gone it would take at least a team of eighty men and a fleet of escape vehicles to accomplish this in a matter of minutes, but that many people, someone would have triggered the alarms even by accident.” Turning to Gordon he asked a more pointed question. “When was the alarm triggered what was your response time?”

“That’s just it too, it was never triggered. It wasn’t till one of the bank employees needed to access one of the boxes for a customer that they found the vault empty.”

Looking around once more, Batman hoped to find something that would explain how such a feat was accomplished. “Can we have a minute?”

Nodding his head, Gordon yelled out to the few detectives and uniformed officers still in the vault. “Let’s check outside for evidence we might have missed.”

Used to such a dismissal when the Bats became involved, the team moved out of the room without a backwards glance. So was the relationship they’d had. Legally they couldn’t leave the Bats in a room full of evidence, but no one could claim that was Gordon’s aim with his order, and as usual their involvement would never be included in the case file unless necessary.

When Batman turned away from the door once the vault was clear he caught Nemer using her claws to scale up the wall towards the ceiling. Biting his tongue, he kept from yelling out knowing she was leaving marks that would have to be cleared so they wouldn’t be used as evidence, but a quick call to Marinette would have it fixed in a blink of an eye.

Never one for acrobatics like their daughter and his eldest adopted son, Nemer had grown used to the powers her Miraculous gave to help her look spectacularly graceful as she danced around the beams and small ledges of the vault. It would appear as a beautifully choreographed dance to the casual observer, but Batman saw the calculated looks Nemer gave to the areas she surveyed while she moved, using her enhanced vision to look for things the human eye could not find. From the speed she moved it was obvious she had yet to find anything.

In a move which would have had his heart skip a beat if performed by one of his children, she flipped down from the three-story ceiling to land in front of him with a flourish. As she rose to her full height, it took everything in him not to grab her by the back of her head and pull her in for a kiss.

When younger and training he’d been guilty a time or two of having done just that.

The curve of her lips lifted as she looked at him, knowing exactly where his thoughts had drifted, before strolling around him to continue her look around the room. As she moved the nail of her pointer finger traced along his arm brace, the sound was the only indication of the act due to the Kevlar, but he knew she echoed his thoughts with the gesture.

For a few minutes the pair walked around the room looking for evidence of how such a job was done. Finding nothing, not a speck of dust out of place. The impossible had clearly happened. But as he looked at his wife, he found the answer as to how come a little more into focus.

Chapter Text

Bitterness wasn’t exactly the emotion Nightwing was feeling, but there was definitely a hint of it to be found. Marinette had the day off and had made desserts for the family. Only, he and Oracle were too busy with a stakeout they’d missed not only dinner to prepare but lost any chance for leftovers as they weren’t expected to make it back till morning, and knowing Jason he would ensure there was nothing left.

Considering the circumstances, Nightwing couldn’t allow that to cause him bitterness, only slight disappointment as they waited with nothing better to do; a pastry would have been a nice distraction. But there were many more important things to focus on, like the tip off Maroni was going to try and move a bunch of kids. They were much more important than his stomach. So much more.

And for once it was supposed to be easy to ensure they were successful and the kids safe. They’d managed to track a guy who when pressed squealed like a Swifty at a concert. Almost so much so they believed he was nothing more than a plant, but everything he’d said lined up with some of the other intel they had, leaving them feeling like they had to follow the lead even if it was a trap.

A cargo ship from one of the small islands in the Atlantic was heading for Gotham with the crates the man had designated on the manifest. They’d tracked the ship with one of the satellites and sent a drone to find heat signatures within. Trap or not, they were going to rescue those aboard and hopefully find a way to make sure they could finally pin the crime to Maroni.  

Within the next few minutes, the ship was set to dock, from where they hoped was a good vantage point the pair waited, keeping an eye out for any of Maroni’s goons who’d been sent early to scope out the area. The presence of a scout wouldn’t lead to a conviction, so they would have to wait to act, calling in Gordon’s men to make the arrest when the time was right.

The wait was usually one of Nightwing’s least favorite parts of a case—honestly who liked it—but fortunately Oracle was with him. Despite not being professional, and if Robin or Batman were present he’d get an earful, as they sat Oracle allowed him to play with her hair. The silky strands ran through his gloved hands before falling to her back; it was thanks to years of doing the same without gloves he had the feeling imprinted in his memory so he could feel the sensation even through the gloves. For the years they were broken up, he’d missed this…the ability to touch her, to love her.

Love had only gained meaning when he’d fallen for Babs, when she pulled away after the incident with Joker he knew he would never love again. What was the point? Turned out he was right, other than Barbara no one else was able to hold his heart in the same way, he loved people like his family and friends, but he never loved them. Now that he knew she felt the same he was going to make sure she knew how much he loved her for the rest of his life, he had a ring in his underwear drawer ready for when he made that promise to her.

Leaning into him Oracle stopped his grooming, in the shadows she tilted her head up to look at him, he used the position to kiss her forehead before she whispered. “I think it’s time to start walking.”

For a moment, Nightwing was silent, wondering if she meant the word working. Then he realized she wasn’t talking about the current case.

In public she was still in her wheelchair more often than not. Pretending to use a walker while performing her physical therapy around the hospital after her miraculous healing at the hand of a made-up doctor Bruce had flown into Gotham General to perform experimental surgery on her spinal column. The plan was to have her take till the end of the year to begin walking normally.

Just in time for the wedding she didn’t know Dick was planning.

Of course, that was before the League of Assassin’s became a factor.

“There might be a time I need to be able to walk, or rather run while a civilian. Better to be seen able to do so before then, don’t need an accidental identity reveal with everything else going on.”

Understanding, Nightwing still said nothing but tightened his grip on Oracle. The League of Assassins was an enemy they hated to interact with, almost as much as the Court of Owls. It was always delicate because in the past it had only been respect from Ra’s which kept their civilian forms from being attacked. But who knew if Nyssa would still respect this boundary in this war. Now that the family had what Ra’s ultimately desired all bets were likely off, not to mention the League was in possession of more than half of the Miraculous already.

The different possibilities of what could happen were terrifying. With the power of nine Miraculous in their hands… he hated to think of the possibility of losing Barbara again. Knowing she was thinking about the possibilities too…

‘For today,’ was the mantra he’d been living the past few weeks. Tomorrow would bring whatever it did, but today…today he would stop Maroni from traumatizing a group of children more than he already had.

And for today…“You might be right, but only if you agree to something else first.”

Scoffing, Oracle turned in his arms to look at him with a sly smile on her face. “I didn’t think you really had a say.”

“I don’t, but I had this timeline in my head and since you’re moving up one part of it, I need to move up another.”

Even through her mask he could see the lines in her forehead deepening, betraying her confusion.

“I really wanted to do this with flowers, family, and maybe some starlight and not the city smog. Either way, I had so many plans, many of which are thanks to Cat Noir, but maybe this is better because this is us, just us, just now.” Taking a deep breath, he hoped he hadn’t read things wrong and she wouldn’t hate the moment wasn’t exactly romantic or that they’d only been officially dating again for so short a time. “Babs, please marry me.”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation between his question and her lips meeting his. The kiss was searing, and he pulled her in to keep her in place, using the moment to just be despite the atmosphere of the evening.

All too soon she was pulling away. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask,” she admitted, “maybe not the best time, but like you said maybe it’s very us.”

“I’ve had the ring since before the incident, unfortunately it’s back home. I could never get rid of it, now it’ll finally get to see the light of day again.”

The smile on Oracles face was one seared forever into his core memories, his fiancé was shining brighter than any beacon that had ever graced the Gotham skyline and he was the one responsible for making it appear.

Naturally the moment was ruined by the lights of an incoming ship shining into their darkened space. They still had some time to wait but their focus could no longer stray to personal matters but ensuring they could account for everything that happened to the ship pulling into Gotham port from that moment forward.

An hour passed with little happening. The port authority had checked the ship as soon as it was docked and the crew was finally disembarking to go to their homes or hotels. Security had managed to do their rounds twice and the ship remained quiet.

Nightwing and Oracle knew it would be only a matter of time, Maroni and his crew were despicable, but they needed to ensure fresh food and water for the cargo sooner rather than later to ensure they still had someone to sell. Not that they would allow that to happen.

Yet, as they kept watching nothing happened. Another hour passed with only silence and darkness, when the hour passed 3 am they knew sunrise would prevent Maroni from acting.

“Something isn’t right,” Nightwing finally admitted, “we should check the ship.”

Oracle nodded her head in agreement, shooting her zipline out to the highest point of the cargo ship before jumping from the roof. Watching her for a moment in amazement, he was thankful Marinette had made her healing possible so she could overcome what had happened, working as hard as possible, as any of the Bats would, to be running and fighting as soon as possible.

Nightwing was so proud to call this woman his fiancé.

The admiration turned to puzzlement when she suddenly disappeared. One second she was descending to the ship, the next she was nowhere to be seen. No splash to allude she’d somehow fallen off course into the water and no one on the deck to suggest she’d landed.

Then out of nowhere she appeared in front of the ship trying to grab his attention as if she’d been trying for some time. He chose to answer through the comms, surprised she didn’t try that first, the confusion evident in his voice. “How did you get there?”

Even from a distance he could see her awkward movements were questioning his sanity. “I grappled down, and then walked.”

“Step back a few steps,” he wasn’t sure how he knew, but the moment she stepped back she disappeared from his sights again.

“Fuck,” he yelled, slamming his fist into the closest wall, frustrated the easy save was turning out to be anything but.

Chapter Text

The table spread was a feast of pastries and savory breakfast items Marinette had been busy the night prior preparing them for the rest of the family. After a long night spent working on cases that had prevented all of them from attending dinner, she felt they deserved something special. Not that Jon could complain, personally, it had meant a date like dinner in the large dining room for the throuple as the rest of the family busied themselves in cases they didn’t ask for help with, and his mother took Emilie to Metropolis for a tour and to visit his father. It wasn’t romantic given the tension still lingering through the home, but it did feel like a glimpse into how comfortable the future would be if they stayed together, all together.

Entering the room from the kitchen once more, Marinette brought Alfred along with her and deposited a large craft of juice and coffee closest to the most interested parties. Looking at the older man she smiled, he returned it and lightly squeezed her shoulder—this was after all what he wished for—and took his place at the head of the table, opposite where Bruce sat, while Marinette came to sit beside Jon.

Moving at the same time, both leaned over in their chairs with the intension of giving a quick kiss to the cheek but missed the others movement due to closing their eyes and instead met halfway to kiss each other on the lips. Despite the mistake, they held it for a second, but for far too short a time for Jon’s liking. But so was the decorum the Wayne family pretended to have at the dinner table. Or at least, how they tried to start meals before they devolved into forks flying in opposite directions or abruptly ending as at least one was required to save the city or the world.

Again, Jon couldn’t complain, especially when Marinette was smiling sweetly when she pulled away. Despite the weight she felt from the loss of the Miraculous, she looked happy, like she knew it was only a matter of time before all was right, verses her typical response of blaming herself and spiraling. Jon was thankful that both he and Adrien were there to give her the support she needed, it was what partners did, both superheroes and boyfriends.

Adrien and his mother were next to enter the room; Emilie was talking animatedly about the many places his mother had taken her to in Metropolis. Surprising both Jon and Adrien when she mentioned preferring dark and depressing Gotham to the City of Hope, though Jon suspected it had more to do with a certain person in the city than the actual city itself.

Escorting his mother to her seat, Adrien pushed in her chair before rounding the table to stop by Marinette and give her a quick peck before holding his fist out for Jon to tap. Even with the unique relationship there were no romantic feelings between the pair, but a bond had somehow formed which prevented feelings of jealousy for the most part. They were still working things out, finding boundaries they didn’t know needed to exist, expressing feelings when they appeared, and testing the strength of their unique relationship, but…they’d already joked, in part, about marriage and while they definitely hadn’t agreed on who she would legally marry, they had all agreed on their last names being Wayne-Kent and dropping Agreste.

Coming into the room next, Damian was preoccupied by his thoughts he barely acknowledged those already assembled. Listening into the drama between his best friend and Jason the day before, Jon had pieced together the gist of what was weighing on Damian. Since Marinette had been found alive the last barrier between a real relationship for Damian and his family members crumbled, allowing their relationships to improve significantly, especially between him and Jason. Almost as if Damian had feared allowing such closeness after losing the person he loved most, prevented him from creating a similar relationship with others or risk losing them too.

No doubt, as he’d done in the League with his sister, he was taking Jason’s current crusades and making them his own and any inability to offer immediate solutions act as a reflection of his worth. Until the case was solved, Damian would allow this to burden him, something he’d been more frequently doing since his brush with death.

Damian taking a seat next to Adrien would have caused a spike of jealousy in the past, a feeling like losing his place as best friend, a title he’d worked so hard in the beginning to earn, but it didn’t. Logically, Jon knew to have a relationship with Marinette required an equally strong relationship with Damian. If you couldn’t get along with her brother there was no chance of being with her. Marinette’s opinion, respect, and love for her brother were more important to her than any relationship she may form. Luckily, thought Damian would never admit it, just like he still struggled  admitting Jon was his best friend, Adrien had already managed to get closer to Damian than even those a part of the Teen Titans, who he’d known for years. Perhaps it was the relationship with his sister and her influence that caused it, but Jon knew it was more likely because the Black Cat holder was a mix of both Damian and Marinette, sharing their trauma of expectations, a passion to train to be the best like Damian, and the need to look for the positive in things like Marinette.

To prevent jinxing his wish he would never voice it, but he felt it deep in his heart, the four of them were the future of Justice League title leadership like their parents before them. Of course, this was way off in the future, but the deepening relationships between them would help when the time arrived.

First they needed to recover the Miraculous and heal Gotham.

Over the course of the next few minutes the rest of the family funneled into the room, all looking worse for wear. The entire family had been slowly breaking under the looming threat of the League of Assassins, now with real cases splitting their attention and keeping them up through the night, the toll was obvious.

The last to come to the table were Dick and Barbara, whose dark circles and solemn expressions spoke of sleepless nights, a fruitless investigation and the guilt of failure was weighing them down. But that wasn’t what Adrien saw.

A shriek came from deep within his throat, exploding out like whistle from a tea kettle. Covering the sound with his hands as he bounced in his seat like an excited toddler his eyes were glued on the pair. Reaching out with his free hand he pointed excitedly without words.

Previously lost in their own problems the entire table turned their attention to the pair, looking them over as they tried to understand the cause of Adrien’s reaction. Of course, the one who spoke ‘Adrien,’ the best started to mimic her boyfriend’s reaction, except she didn’t contain her excitement to her chair as she raced over. Almost knocking Barbara off her feet, she was just kept from falling by Dick’s steadying embrace and Marinette pulling at her hand to examine it before her own excitable scream filled the air uncovered.

“Congratulations! When did he ask? How did he ask? Was it romantic? Did he get down on one knee? Oh, this is so beautiful, he can have good taste when it’s importance or not fashion related.” She smiled at her own joke before continuing to ramble. “When is the wedding? Can I design the dress? I mean only if you want me to. If not your dress—I understand it’s like the most important choice to make—can I design the bridesmaid? I have so many ideas already. What colors are you thinking? I would recommend emerald, a little cliché, but it would go perfectly with your hair even if you aren’t wearing it, your bridesmaids should complement you after all.”

“Marinette…” Dick interrupted, a tired he still managed to genuinely smile at his sister, causing her to shrink back in embarrassment for her rambling and ruining their announcement. “I asked her last night, and sadly,” he looked over at Adrien and shrugged his shoulders, “wasn’t as romantic as I would have wished. Still, she said yes, and everyone will be informed of more details when we have them. Right now…unfortunately,” he tightened his grip on Barb’s hand, “our focus has to be elsewhere.”

Feeling the shift in the air, Marinette retook her seat next to Jon, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly, but she didn’t look at him. Eyes locked on her brother; it was like she knew what he was going to say and squeezed Jon’s hand back in recognition of his attempted comfort.

Taking their seats, the couple looked at each other before back at the table. “Babs and I suspect a Miraculous is being used in Gotham.”

The heart rate of several at the table spiked, while others remained constant, already suspecting the truth behind Dick’s proclamation. Looking solemn, Bruce took a deep breath and confirmed their suspicions with his own. “I believe the same, the break in at Gotham National is easiest to explain if we recognize the use of Miraculous magic. I am sure Marinette could suggest a few Miraculous which could accomplish what seems like an impossible feat.”

Beside Jon, Marinette let out a shuttered breath. They knew it was coming, but knowing and having to face it were two separate things.

“Explain,” was the single word the Guardian, not Marinette, said.

“No obvious signs of how the culprit got in or out, but someone managed to get 38 safety deposit boxes weighing approximately 300 pounds apiece in and out of the vault without triggering any of the alarms.

“Could have been Baark.” Adrien suggested. “A bank employee could have entered the vault before closing and then recalled the boxes once home so no one would suspect.”

“Possible, but getting all 38 to recall in one transformation, for a new user…the chances of the League finding a perfect match without my training…probably not. More than likely, they used Kaalki,” Marinette advised. “Portaled in, use the enhanced strength to move them all out.”

From across the table Jason’s heart rate increased, looking at him one would note his eyes fluttering back and forth before his head shot up and he looked at Damian. In response, his younger brother nodded as if they’d both drawn the same conclusion.

“I believe Baark may be in the possession of Falcone.” Damian interjected on behalf of the pair. “There has been a spike in the amount drugs in his sector with no obvious answer as to how they are coming into the city undetected. Through my research I discovered Falcone left the country for South America two weeks back, just before the surge, but he took commercial air and no suspicious shipments after. While Baark is unable to move multiple items in a single transformation, could he recall say a large pallet of drugs with a single transformation?”

“As long as it was packaged like a single item, weight would be no issue.” Marinette nodded her head without stopping as the wheels going around in her head thought of the repercussions of the Dog Miraculous being in a crime lord’s hands. “He could also make the transformation look like any other business suit so he could steal without them being the wiser. Get back to the states, settle down for a day or two, his transformation wouldn’t start the countdown until he uses the recall part of the power. Then the manufacturers would be none the wiser as to who was responsible for stealing their products.”

“So, I’m guessing Nyssa is putting the Miraculous in the hands of known criminals. What’s the angle though? I thought the aim was justice through any means, not letting the bad guys commit more crimes and get away with it,” Jon spoke, not connecting the pieces and wondering if any of the others had.

“With my sister in charge, it is hard to know if the aim has shifted. She always seemed to do things to please my father, but she is far greedier than he was if it is possible to be so. Claims of doing something in the name of justice when it was actually in the name of power. Still, if she is following in his footsteps, it is possible she’d following one of his more…extreme theories, that things can only be properly fixed when they were first completely destroyed.”

“The balance of Gotham is precarious. The little bit of hope that has grown since the lag in crime could faulter if suddenly beaten down by a surge of darkness from a misused Miraculous. This could be the end of the city if the League is successful, the darkness could finally overcome.” Marinette looked at Tikki who’d come to sit on her shoulder in concern.

“But our Guardian will make sure that won’t happen.” Tikki squeaked. “Knowing who has the Miraculous will make their return easier.  Luckily,” the kwami preened, “Nyssa has not given the Miraculous to true masterminds and working together with the World’s Greatest Detectives should ensure we will find and recapture the rest just as easily.”

The younger members of the family smiled at the vote of confidence from the little goddess, but the elders still looked wary.

Bruce shivered as he often did when magic was used. “This could all just be a smoke screen, we shouldn’t dismiss they may have given the rest to someone of the caliber of Slade. Not to mention while we can speculate on the use of a Miraculous in the bank heist, we cannot even begin to narrow down the person responsible without them leaving some kind of trace other than the use of magic.”

“It is also possible Nyssa will change who possesses the Miraculous to keep us from being able to follow any leads to be able to recapture them. We should not celebrate an easy victory until all of the lost Miraculous are once more returned.” Talia finished for Bruce.

Marinette ignored for the time the warning of her parents, but Jon felt her heart rate shift in acknowledgement of the truth within them. “Dick, you were the first to suggest the use of a Miraculous…”

“The Fox,” he stated with more determination than anyone else; certain Bab’s and his conclusion from the morning would broker no argument. “Mirage was used in our trafficking case by Malone; his crew worked under an illusion to empty the crates on the cargo ship we were scouting.”

“I think Pollen is also in circulation,” Tim spoke before anyone else could interrupt. “Stephanie’s friend was attacked and suffered from a strange case of full body paralysis. At first, we suspected a new toxin of some kind, but this sounds just like Venom. Though the holder I would argue isn’t one of Gotham’s big players, just a fuc—”

“Master Tim!”

“Sorry Alfred,”

A brief silence filled the room, as luckily no one had any more suspected Miraculous in circulation or unluckily based on how you looked at it.

“Let us work on getting the one’s we suspect are being used back, whatever plan the League has, ensuring they’re working with less would be to our benefit. We should all search through the recent case files to see if we can spot the potential use of more while we’re at it.” Bruce rose from his seat, taking a few of the pastries his daughter had made because they were just that good before wandering down to the cave to begin.

It looked like the war had finally been declared and it was time to deal their first counterstrike.

Chapter Text

Files flew on the screen as Bruce went over the documents Gordon sent over on the robbery. The lack of evidence just seemed to confirm what they already knew, a Miraculous was involved. Frustrating, but not as much as the knowledge the one in possession of it was likely a small player, almost impossible to trace from the single crime. Which meant instead of someone taking credit they would have to wait for the few items known to be in the boxes to show up at pawn shops or the black market. The problem with that avenue though, was the police only knew of a handful of items that were supposed to be within the boxes, mostly Bruce’s, as only a few of the owners were being forthcoming with the contents within, Not to mention it could be weeks before they tried to pawn them to prevent them being caught, plenty of time for more heist.

Truthfully, he shouldn’t have expected anything less from the League, giving some of the Miraculous to small time criminals was masterful, a criminal who didn’t commit their crimes for show, but personal enrichment, could take months or even years to trace. Splitting the Bat’s attention in so many directions aside from the usual Gotham crime.

Fortunately, it appeared the Horse Miraculous was with someone whose intentions appeared to be greed, meaning the likelihood was no one would get hurt at least, but the Bee… Needless to say , it was important they got to the bottom of the one in possession of all the Miraculous as soon as possible; he could not allow the people of Gotham to suffer like Paris had.

“Beloved,” her voice snuck up on him, her hand coming around his shoulder before a package was held out in front of him.

“What’s this?” he asked, staring at it hesitantly. Talia wasn’t a gift giver, or at least in the past she wasn’t. On the rare occasion there was a gift from his wife, it usually was to be used to complete a task of her own agenda, or more specifically her father’s.

“I do not know. Alfred caught me on the way down and asked me to pass this on. Apparently, it was delivered to the door of the manor this morning.”

Taking the package in his hand, he noticed just how light the box was and no addressee. Holding it back out for Talia to take, “place it over there,” he instructed as he pointed in the direction of the lab. “I’ll have Tim run some test on it before we open it.”

Without a word Talia complied before coming to sit beside Bruce and continue her own research on the recent crimes in Gotham. Time went on with the pair sitting in comfortable silence, each searching for information they were sure wasn’t there. Just like linking Gabriel Agreste and the Butterfly, tying Miraculous criminals to their crimes and building evidence would take time and unfortunately the perpetration of more crimes.

The silence was broken though by the line reserved for the Commissioner. Looking at the time, Bruce noticed it was earlier than his usual hours, which meant the call was one the family would not appreciate. Answering it swiftly he waited with bated breath for the bad news of another unexplainable crime, another Miraculous used in Gotham.

“Batman?” Bruce merely grunted in response. “Bank called, everything was returning this morning. The boxes appeared just like they disappeared, without a trace. I’m on my way over to check, but we won’t know if any of the contents were taken without knowing what most of them had inside, and we likely won’t unless the owners unlock them and lets us know.”

It took a second to respond, contemplating what game the holder could be playing. Back to square one, with no leads, no evidence, and apparently no crime. “Understood.”

The phone hit the receiver with an echoing slam. Bruce was left staring at it with uncertainty, discomfort from the recent development. A criminal was taunting them, proving what they could do? Either it meant they could possibly be caught sooner, or they were dealing with more of a mastermind than Bruce had earlier suspected.

Running his hand down his face his gaze fell on the package recently delivered in the distance. An itch at the back of his mind told him they were somehow connected. Afterall, one of those boxes was his own, could the criminal have been leaving a calling card of sorts within?

Connecting the dots from his behavior having watched him during the phone call, Talia stood to retrieve the box and handed it to Bruce. Carefully he removed the paper, revealing a black jewelry box and a letter. Lifting the lid of the envelope there were no signs of loose powder or other nefarious things, so he took out the letter to read.

It wasn’t fun. The short note started. Too easy, no satisfaction despite what I was capable of doing with the help.

When I was given the token, I wasn’t sure of the woman’s intensions, in truth I’m still not. But I know this is not for me and I figured it was best in your hands than back in that woman’s or someone worse. Not to mention knowing you, you are already aware of exactly what this is and how to take care of it.

I returned the safety deposit boxes, nothing was taken. I will return later to get what I wanted. You know me, constantly in need of a challenge.

Till then,

Selina

P.S. Congratulations, I believe are in order. While no official announcement has been made, I couldn’t help but see the similarities between Damian and Marinette to not make the connection with the woman you’ve been seen with recently. I’m happy you finally have the complete family you always deserved.

Reading the note over his shoulder, Talia seemed to finish it at the same time. “A previous amore?”

The question was asked appearing nonchalant, but he could still read the different layers of questions framed in the single. Was she a threat, where there still feelings, was she going to have to take care of this?

Never had Bruce imagined himself to be one who liked a little bit of possessiveness, it had frustrated him while they were together in the League, but the controlled jealousy was nice. He chose to hide the small smile and kept his head down as he let out a small grunt to dismiss her questions.

Opening the black box a pair of glasses lay upon a soft cushion, as if on auto pilot his hand lightly brushed the wire frames before a teal light left them and materialized to form a small ball.

The Horse kwami appeared quickly in the light’s stead, lowering her head in apparent shame.

One Miraculous was recovered and relief filled his bones. “Marinette will be so glad to see you.”

Chapter Text

Holding Barbara’s hand Dick entered the restaurant and headed to the hostess. Upon locking eyes there was no sign of recognition, expected as a Wayne was not likely to appear at the restaurant due to its reputation. Instead, Dick saw something else in the depth of her eyes before she lifted her chest and her gaze studied his body as she appreciated him as more than a paying customer.

Beside him Barbara tensed at the action, reading into the intentions the woman had, offended it was happening with her not even two steps behind Dick. The woman before him took Dick’s warm smile at his fiancés reaction as something it wasn’t and smiled seductively back before it faltered as an arm wrapped around his chest, making Dick’s smile deepen. “Table for two, please.”

Fully taking in the person behind Dick, the woman’s smile completely dropped as she scowled as if Barbara’s behavior was distasteful despite her own and grabbed two menus before walking away with the intent for them to follow.

The lunch crowd was decent for being just outside normal lunchtime hours, affording them a sense of privacy with empty tables on the left and right, but busy enough they wouldn’t stick out.

Whether it was random luck or Marinette’s rubbing off, the waitress sat them at one of the tables closest to the closed off section Maroni and his men occupied. Dick ensured he sat with his back to Maroni, his frame large enough to block Barbara to keep her face obscured; while the hostess seemed to be none the wiser to his identity, the same hope could not be applied to Maroni.

Despite the focus being on the mission, the couple still ordered their favorite Italian staples when the waitress came over. When she left without engaging them beyond the standard they resumed attempts to listen to the conversation between the crime boss and his most trusted lieutenants. From a distance they couldn’t catch every word, but it wasn’t business dealings from the snippets they caught, just family drama.

Listening to their conversation was not their only intension when entering the restaurant, otherwise they would have just used one of the many listening devices at their disposal. Knowing Maroni, he would not have told even his closest men what he was in possession of for fear one would betray him to get a hold of such powers themselves. More likely, his men worked within the illusion being none the wiser to its existence but believing they’d just been lucky when not caught. So of course, none of their conversations would even mention the Miraculous, so instead the vigilant pair needed to spot it.

Pressing the button on her glasses, Barbara looked like she was staring deep into the eyes of her fiancé as they kept their conversation light, but Dick knew better. Her eyes focused beyond him, using the tech within her glasses to magnify their target and his surroundings.

“Someone has some bling.” The statement wasn’t startling as it was the one he’d been hoping to hear, but he jumped because of who the statement was made by. As the waitress dropped off their drinks she stared at Barbara expectantly, causing Dick to be concerned the waitress knew the purpose behind their late lunch.

“Oh yes,” Barbara giggled, taking her left hand into her right and lightly stroking the enviable diamond—if Dick said so himself—as if it was her most precious possession, similar to Smeagol.

“Is it new?” The waitress asked, looking back at the hostess as if she knew she was equally invested in the answer.

“Long overdue,” Barbara quipped. “The wedding is going to be in December.”

Dick’s head snapped to Barbara, it was the first time she’d addressed a timeline. A smile settled on his face when he realized the date matched the one he’d originally planned in his head, one which seemed impossible when he’d delayed popping the question and current circumstances.

“Not far then, is everything planned?” Dick snapped his head back to the waitress. While one might think the questions were merely a worker feigning interest to get a bigger tip, he heard the mocking tone, the hope maybe it wasn’t as concrete as Bab’s imagined.

The woman was insane if she thought he would drop Barbara for her. Dick wouldn’t leave Babs for anyone, not even herself.

“My future sister-in-law loves to plan so I gave her some general ideas and the next thing I knew I had a binder thrust in my lap with everything I didn’t know I needed or wanted, including a sketch of the most perfect wedding dress. I suspect she had it ready for far longer than we’ve been engaged.”

Looking at Barbara he tried to decipher if she was telling the truth or not. After all, they’d just informed the family of their engagement the previous morning, Marinette was good but was she that good. From the earnest expression his fiancé wore, it was probable. They’d told her to take the day off and try to center herself after discovering the Miraculous misuse in Gotham, wouldn’t surprise him if Marinette used the time to design and plan an entire wedding based off a few stray comments instead.

“Well, isn’t that grand.” The woman mumbled, clearly displeased by the answer, “I’ll just go check on your food then.”

Turning her back quickly she disappeared into the kitchen. Babs turned her eyes towards Dick and smiled, shrugging her shoulders with happiness at having made another woman jealous, not only because Dick was hers but because she was close enough with his family that his sister had been so eager for the union.

“Has Mari really planned our wedding?” he whispered, forgetting for the moment their purpose in the restaurant, instead happy to be discussing their upcoming nuptials.

Nodding her head, Bab’s eyes widened in excitement. “Yeah, she has a whole book. I think she did it during her mourning period as a distraction, or more likely knowing her…focusing her reminiscing about what could have been into something she deemed more productive for someone else. From the amount of research, I think the binder has been in the works since the moment we got back together. She has tabs based on possible wedding colors, time of year, and type of venue. It was insane if I’m being honest, even though I am a little impressed with the level of detail. After only three hours the wedding is basically already planned with Alfred offering to make all the calls to get everything once you and I decide on an exact date. I’m going to use Marinette’s designs for the dresses and send them to a tailor to make instead of her considering everything going on. But, Dick, it’s beautiful, like she reached out into my mind and took everything I’ve ever liked in a dress and made it into a beautiful masterpiece…I wish you could see it.”

Taking her hand from across the table, Dick smiled. “I will, when you’re walking down the aisle.”

Smiling back, her eyes drifted back down to her hand and the ring resting on her finger. “Speaking of jewelry, looks like I’m not the only one with a new piece, more specifically a gold chain with a fox tail.”

Perfect, Dick’s eyes took on a predatory glean, the hunt would be fruitful it seemed. With the help of the waitress delivering their food Dick moved his hands casually to his pant pocket and pressed a button within, a ping was sent out to Ladybird and Cat Noir who were lurking in the back alley advising them of Maroni’s possession of Trixx.

Finishing their lunch quickly, Dick paid for it and left a decent tip, although the waitress had not deserved it, all before Maroni prepared to leave.

“Movement by the door Milady.”

“Got it, Kitty” The newly placed comm in Dick’s ear was filled with static as the creak from the back door echoed into the alley. From the time between the door opening and shutting, likely two or three men had exited.

“Salvator Maroni?” his sister spoke with a confidence that was seasoned with more authority than even Nightwing had managed in his many years of vigilantism.

“Yea and you are?” he asked, well aware he was in the presence of the newest vigilantes Ladybird and Cat Noir.

“I am the Guardian of the Miraculous. I charge you with the misuse of a Miraculous and sentence you to forget.”

“Okay, girlie. I don’t know who you think you are, Guardian of whatever, or what you think I’ve done. But what I do know is you’re delusional. I thought you Bats knew better than to come after me, I am just an innocent business owner, nothing more, nothing less. I suggest getting yourself checked into Arkham before you hurt someone.”

“There are a lot of words that could be used to describe you, innocent is not one of them.” Cat’s voice was clear through the comms being so close to Ladybird, just as confident. Nightwing had done a lot, saved the world a couple of times, but he could admit his kid sister and her boyfriend had done a lot more in a lot less time.

“We can do this the easy way, where you hand me the Miraculous from around your neck. I then ask you a few questions, say a few words before we’re on our way. Or the hard way, where I can’t guarantee something or someone might not be turned into ash.”

Maroni didn’t answer verbally, but the sound of his sister’s yoyo lashing out was enough to know which choice he’d taken. The scuffle only lasted a few seconds as the common thugs, even Maroni’s most trusted, were no match against two of the best veteran heroes.

“Would you like to make a different choice?” his sister offered Maroni a second chance.

“Nah,” was Maroni’s answer before the sound of his sister’s yoyo striking out again could be heard.

“Shit,” her voice muttered into the comms, likely not aware Dick could hear the rare curse word.

“Milady, I think you’ve been hanging out with Red Hood too often.”

Though he couldn’t see it, Nightwing imagined his sister glaring at Cat, who’d be holding his hands up in surrender. “Nightwing, Oracle, he used Mirage. If I had to guess he’s not far, probably just jumped up to the roof tops to run away. He’s transformed so he’ll be able to move fast, but I’m going to assume since he hasn’t had much time to use Trixx he’ll be on the five-minute timer now we disrupted his illusion.”

Nightwing nodded to Oracle who was ready to split up to track the criminals from the roof tops they’d moved to after leaving Maroni’s restaurant. Moment’s away from jumping his movements were stilted by Cat’s next words, “No need Milady, he didn’t go far.”

The deep breath she released was harsh enough it was picked up by the comms, as was the stomping of her feet as she moved over to Maroni and ripped the jewelry from his neck. “Should have known, your suit color was too unique to just be bad fashion sense. Anyway…. Salvator Maroni, as I said before, you have been found guilty of misusing a Miraculous. Using it with malice to go against the balance of our universe. You are now no longer just answerable for your crimes to the city but to the universe itself. Tell me before your judgement is passed where the children are.”

The voice beside her was barely audible, but the comms just picked up the location which wasn’t far. Nightwing and Oracle raced off the rooftop heading to the warehouse with their eyes on target only a few minutes later, with Superboy landing in front of them after listening in at the manor.

They followed behind as he ripped the door off the crate as if it were nothing more than tissue paper. Inside, the flood of light blinded the children as they all turned away to the shadows, one by one they turned to look at who was standing before them. Hope instead of sheer terror began to fill the eyes of more children than he wanted to admit present. They were scared but recognized their saviors, they were traumatized but would be saved from the additional horrors Maroni intended to subject them to.

“We got them, Ladybird.” Superboy spoke into the comms before Nightwing could.

“How many,” his sister snarled in response.

“Too many,” Nightwing answered.

Through the comms a growl that could belong to no one except for Cat filled the air, it was almost as if the man was standing beside them as their hair stood up in recognition of the power at his fingertips. If not being on the same team, it may have caused even Nightwing to cower.

“Salvator Maroni, no man can truly follow another who has no memories of them. I curse you to have no memories of the networks you created, of the men who swore loyalty. You will go to jail finally because you won’t remember who to call to take the fall. Once inside, no one will save you from paying for the crimes you have committed. While one usually doesn’t hear of good things when it comes to criminals, they can at least be counted on for their treatment to those who harm children.”

A pause indicated the Guardian using her magic before Cat answered, the venom in his voice made it possible to image his face as he relayed, “Oracle, call the Commissioner. Ladybird has sealed Maroni’s fate.”

Chapter Text

Red Hood couldn’t complain, well, he could, but at the moment there wasn’t much he felt like voicing because despite everything he was surprisingly content. It was just like old times. The best of times, even when the voices had been plaguing his mind, back when Marinette had been able to soften its hold and family felt like something he’d truly obtained. Ask him last year before he knew she was still alive if he ever thought it could be like that again, he would have told you to ‘f-off.’

But here they were. After spending the afternoon arresting and wiping the memories of Maroni, Ladybird was joining Red Hood and Robin in stopping Falcone from bringing more drugs into Gotham.

Just like old times.

“Tell me again why we can’t just wipe the memory of all the criminals here and lock ‘em up?” Red Hood questioned again.

Even distorted by her mask he didn’t miss her signature eyeroll. “Because my job is to ensure the world is balanced. While I have the power, the backlash could be astronomical. While Gotham is currently imbalanced from the miasma it requires equilibrium which can’t be accomplished by destroying everything we deem as evil in the city. If we did that, we risk allowing for self-correction without direct intervention like with Poison Ivy or even giving others a chance to make different choices, like you.” Ladybird looked at him pointedly but not accusatively, they’d already discussed her thoughts on his previous criminal activity.

“Fortunately, whether it is their intension or not—had it been grandfather at the helm I might have believed the possibility of it more—but by giving them to some of the key players in Gotham I trump the authority of both the Justice League and the city to offer Gotham the justice it needs. Still, the world requires balance, Red Hood, for creation there must be destruction, for there to be good we must know evil, and too much of a good thing can be just as bad. My job is to make sure the scale stays in the favor of balance between both, even if it appears easier and would harm less if I got involved. History has taught us that is never the case as time passes because it takes away the opportunity for people to learn.”

“Okay, okay. Just wish we could use your magic on the Joker without him have to get his hands on a Miraculous.”

“I would hope Nyssa is smart enough not to give that man a Miraculous. One would believe she is smart enough to realize that it could result in the destruction of the world so many times over, ruining what plans she may have. But I am afraid that might be giving too much credit to our aunt.” Robin interjected, his eyes focused forward as if not truly engaged in the conversation.

Nodding her head in agreement, Ladybird guarded her expression as she considered the many Miraculous still in the League’s possession and the type of mayhem the villains of Gotham could create with each one, especially the Joker.

The conversation stopped as two cars pulled up to the warehouse they suspected Falcone was planning to magic his next shipment of drugs to. He’d gone off on a business trip to New York the night before, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he’d been up to no good.

Stepping out of one of the two cars, Falcone appeared as if untouchable. Carrying an air of uncaring, like he wanted the world to be aware of the power in his possession as he looked around as if the paparazzi were capturing the moment and not his unknown audience hiding in the shadows. It was fortunate though as the behavior did nothing to hide the accessory around his neck responsible for the feeling. The Dog Miraculous was hard to disguise against the mobster’s outfit, even if it was a transformation, too unique of a piece of jewelry, too out of place among a business suit.

“Take down his men, I’ll get the Miraculous,” Hood ordered his younger siblings. Both looked at him with sharp eyes, before tilting their heads to acknowledge his order, moving in opposite directions to follow them.

In silence, like the assassins they had been trained to be, the men surrounding Falcone disappeared into the shadows, slumped up against the walls suffering from blows they didn’t see coming. At least, for them, the pair chose not to follow the legacy of their grandfather, and the men were still alive.

They completed the work quickly and efficiently, and despite his enhanced hearing due to the transformation, Falcone was powerless to stop it. Before he knew it, he stood alone, unsure what exactly was going on he still stood his ground. His pride leading him to expect those responsible to emerge from the shadows not realizing what they were going to face.

When it was Red Hood who stepped out alone, it seemed to slightly unsettle the mobster, but only momentarily.

“I thought we played this territory game before, Red Hood. I thought you’d repaired your relationship with the Bat and stopped with the active territory grab. Though if you’re not, I’m not against teaching you just how far out of your league you are.”

“Come on Falcone, I know you’re not that dumb.” Red Hood shrugged his shoulders in a way that said, yeah actually.’ “I never stopped what I was doing, just changed tactics. Haven’t you been complaining about the lack of profits? Who did you think was responsible? The economy?”

“That’s all in the past.” Falcone sneered. “Look I’m willing to let you continue your little holding for now. As long as you scamper back to it, otherwise if you choose to do this now… I can guarantee you wouldn’t come out of it unscathed or even alive.”

“I’m not worried.”

Despite the enhancements, Falcone didn’t expect Red Hood to cock his arm back and punch him in the face seemingly unprovoked. What Red Hood hadn’t been expecting, despite knowing better, was it feeling like hitting a metal wall.

Pulling his hand back, he held it as if it hurt, which it had. Falcone laughed at his predicament. It had boosted his ego and the feeling of being untouchable which he accented by puffing out his chest and exposing his neck as he tilted his chin upward.

Exactly what Red Hood wanted.

With the hand free from pain, he reached out and snagged the dog collar from Falcone’s neck. The transformation dropped immediately, the gangster’s suit turned from a deep brown to a light charcoal. Even with the pain still radiating from likely a sprained wrist he risked breaking it to cock his arm back and strike Falcone across the chin once more.

This time the man spun on his heals from the impact and fell to the floor like a sack of flour. Lights out…Red Hood release a few colorful expletives due to the now broken wrist.

“Was that last hit really necessary,” his sister stepped from the shadows with her hands on her hips as if scolding him, but she was gentle when she grabbed his wrist, encasing it with her healing light. Robin came from the other direction and kicked the fallen criminal with his foot; he remained unmoving much to Red Hood’s pleasure. “One of the only times I get to act all Guardian and mysterious like, and you’ve robbed me of the opportunity by knocking him out cold.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Red Hood didn’t even try to look guilty. “Could always wait for him to wake up?!”

“That could take a while and what would be the point?” she leaned over him with her hands hovering before pausing and tilting her head in obvious contemplation. “Actually…” Standing up and looking back at Red Hood she smiled in a way that did not belong on her sweet face. It was too calculating, too much like one of his when he took pleasure in doing something Bruce wouldn’t approve of. “...would you like to hit him again?”

“Fuck, yes!” Red Hood bounced on his toes as if in a ring ready and waiting for his opponent to leave his corner.

Shaking her head fondly she resumed her position over Falcone and her pink healing light glid over his head. Waking with a start Ladybird held him down with a single hand which he struggled against without his borrowed Miraculous.

“Where are the drugs you were going to have snapped over here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin about,” Falcone lied, his face a steel trap he’d perfected from dealing with detectives his entire career.

“Sure, you don’t.” Red Hood crouched down into his view, “it’s been a while since I’ve had a good torture session. I have the perfect example to base it off of though, one of the Jokers…” bending down he put his mouthpiece next to Falcone’s ear, “my own.

A shudder went down Falcone’s back, it was rumored what the Joker had done to Red Hood.

“A warehouse in outskirts of Brooklyn,” Ladybird quickly pulled up a map on her yoyo showing it to the criminal. “This one,” he turned away hoping it would buy him something against them, though he didn’t know what.

Signaling her brother by dismissing Falcone for the time being, Red Hood cocked his arm back once more and let it snap against Falcone’s jaw.

“Go ahead and call on Baark. I’ll have Kaalki open a portal to the warehouse he designated. We’ll go ahead and recall the drugs he was planning to sell. We can leave him with them when the police come and this time there will be no one to stop him from being caught red-handed.”

As Red Hood clasped the choker he couldn’t help but ask, “how are we going to prevent one of his men from taking the fall?”

“A quick spell to make them forget Baark and Falcone, we’ll heal them and let them be on their way before the police come. I’ll make sure to tailor Falcone’s memory so he remembers the drugs but not Baark or the network he’d cultivated to sell them. It feels a little poetic for him to remember who he was and will never be again.”

Taking Kaalki’s glasses from her yoyo two different sets of light flashed in the abandoned warehouse. Without many words a portal was opened before he stepped through. On the other side a shipment of drugs was waiting, as quietly as he could Red Hood used Baark’s power to mark it once again. Before the men responsible for guarding the shipment could check on it again, Red Hood walked back through the portal.

After Red Hood recalled the drugs, he couldn’t help but notice the tension in his brother’s form as he laid down a limp Falcone next to them. “What’s wrong?”

“This has been too easy. Three in a single day, with the worst of our fighting coming from you simply punching a transformed crook and breaking your wrist. The miasma should be fighting more, preventing us from achieving such victories. It concerns me.”

“The three we have gotten back I always thought would be the easiest. Perhaps not the Fox if I’m being honest,” Ladybird responded, “but Nyssa gave them to one of our allies, or I guess maybe not a complete villain, and two morons that lacked the creativity to use them to their full potential. Still, I fear Red Hood is right, those left with the remaining Miraculous could see this city destroyed more times over and in ways the city may never be able to heal if we fail to get them quickly.”

Chapter Text

The Bat family spanned across Gotham as the curtain of night acted as background to the various rooftops they jumped from. They were searching among the darkness for something darker and yet the city could only boast a normal night, crimes occurring which they could not ignore, but didn’t drive the purpose behind the full roster’s attendance.

It had been a long day, it would be a long week, likely a long month, and for once, Batman bought into hope that it wouldn’t be a long year. So far three of the missing Miraculous were recovered, but those who held them were not the criminal masterminds or unknowns who likely held the rest.

“We’ve come to the end of our sector, we’re going to turn around a search again.” Batgirl’s frustrated voice broke through the silence of the comms.

“Same,” Nightwing relayed before Ladybird echoed similarly for her trio.

Batman looked at his own partners for the evening, both Robin and Cat Noir were still perfectly hidden in the shadows they’d hid within for the last few hours as they monitored where most of the young adults of the city were spending their night, outside the clubs in the bar district. For a moment he wondered if he should move to scan the area more thoroughly, but chose against it, his gut was telling him the most likely target was coming from the club and they would be obvious.

Naturally they wished no one would be attacked on their way home, but it was necessary to catch the person currently in possession of the Bee Miraculous. The best hope was they were close by monitoring any potential targets to be able to stop anything truly bad from happening.

Batman refused to voice his fear the perk would leave the city with the Miraculous if he realized the vigilantes were on to him and target vulnerable people in a city not protected by a hero or vigilante. It would be more effective for someone who didn’t want to get caught and could result in months or years before the police became aware of what could be happening, enough to catch the Bat’s attention to finally be able to help, just for the perp to leave again.

So, sadly he felt it was essential for something bad to happen tonight, at least until they stopped it.

From his perch, Batman had a commanding view of at least five of the doors leading into the depths of Gotham’s nightlife. He was satisfied to see that many of the youth had learned from the generations’ before them past mistakes and did not break off from larger groups to risk their safety for the convenience of getting home faster.

But of course, as the thought passed he watched as a young woman exited the club alone. As she stumbled from the door she hit it with her shoulder as she struggled to walk through. From the way she turned and looked back as if it offended her, she was clearly angry and something that happened within the club was driving her to leave it alone. Walking forward her head whipped down both sides of the street as she took a second to get her bearings and determine the direction home. Was it luck or just drunken stupidity which had the chosen path keeping her more isolated from strangers and passersby?

From a distance Batman attempted to capture the boys’ attention, finding them both similarly watching the same girl. It had been a long night, with nothing to show for it; the chances of another stepping out into the Gotham night with only a few hours left till dawn in the same condition were low. A gamble had to be made, he would need both if they hoped to subdue the Bee holder, so he gestured for both Robin and Cat Noir to follow him to protect the young lady.

The way she stumbled across the darkened alley, it was obvious she had far more to drink than was advised and perhaps the safer route would be to call an ambulance to preemptively check her for alcohol poisoning. But it also allowed her pace to be easily followed from a distance so the Bats could survey ahead without fear of their own movement being detected or her being lost.

Five minutes into the hunt, she’d only managed to make it down the single city street, the chances of her falling victim to another criminal other than the Bee increasing. Without cause the girl suddenly stopped, turning her head in the direction of an alley off the street she was walking. She listened, her hand subconsciously falling to her purse to hold it closer to her body. Batman held his own breath to try and listen to hear the same thing that had spooked her, but a movement to his right pulled his attention. Cat Noir shook his head, confirming there was nothing he could hear nor see with his night vision to be concerned with. The woman must have realized the same as she continued on her way, having to use the wall on occasion to keep herself upright.

Time seemed to move at a snail’s pace; there was no sign of the Bee holder and his other children reported on their lack of progress, when all of a sudden the girl stopped, only to dig into her purse for her keys. Not only did some of the content fall to the floor as she struggled, with every stray item she stopped the search to pick it up and return it to her small clutch before proceeding to repeat the process once more.

From the way Cat Noir and Robin were rocking from their hiding spots it was obvious the production was frustrating the youth. Batman would have to admit feeling similar, but the longer she stood outside of her apartment building the higher chance of her still being targeted, which unfortunately served their purpose for the night. Even if it screamed against everything the family stood for.

Eventually even the drunk woman seemed to grow tired at her lack of progress and crouched down, not without almost completely falling over and dumping the contents of her purse onto the stoop of her apartment’s entry.

Feeling like the moment was right, Batman’s head swiveled as he looked for where the Bee holder was undoubtedly going to be attacking from. In that time, she’d managed to find her keys, return her items to her purse, and struggled with fitting the key into the lock.

The altered alcohol-induced vision made it close to impossible for the slender key to find its home. The emotions in Batman pulled him in two different directions, longing for her success so she would be safe, while waiting with bated breath for her continued failure to draw out the man of the hour.

Movement in the alley closest to her building drew the attention of the Dark Knight and he prepared for the confrontation. The girl’s attention was completely fixated on her dilemma so she missed hearing the slight shift of a trashcan lid as a shadow brushed past it, Cat Noir and Robin did not.

From their different perches around the apartment, they waited for confirmation of the yellow and black costume. All three taking on a lunged position ready to pounce when the perp least expected it. The deep breath he held was released slowly as Batman’s weight shifted to the ball of his foot just as the shadow crossed into his line of sight.

Only all tension in his body collapsed when said shadow proved to be no bigger than twelve inches high. While black in color, the only yellow was the reflection of what little light there was in the feline’s eyes. The woman’s attention left her task when she noticed her cat companion, picking it up as if she knew the small beast, stroking it kindly before she pulled it to her side and somehow, miraculously sliding the key into the lock on the first try and opening the apartment door before she and the cat disappeared within.

With no need to hide in the shadows, Batman came to stand at his full height. From the body language of his companions who’d done the same, they were all equally frustrated with the failure of the evening. They’d spent almost half an hour following the girl home with nothing to show for it and based on the time of evening most people in Gotham were safely asleep in their homes meaning they were out of leads for the night.

“Let’s go ahead and do a sweep of our sector before—“ Batman’s words were drowned out by the echoing of a loud boom. A series of lights far off in the distance lit up the night sky, making the city look like an hour passed and was on the cusp of dawn.

Without hesitating Batman raced towards the tallest building in the area, using his grappling hook to launch himself up the many stories to manage access to the roof. Only seconds behind was Cat Noir who used his magically enhanced pogo stick to bring himself and Robin to the same roof.

From the distance came another explosion, the impact was strong enough it seemed like they could feel it from the building they stood upon. Though they were some distance from the explosions, the fires they caused were so high, so intense, they could pinpoint the location exactly. The warehouse district of Gotham was ablaze, Batman took off knowing the night had just begun.

Chapter Text

Ladybird looked out in shock at the explosions across town. It was like the entire supply of fireworks for the Fourth of July in the tristate area were lighting the Gotham morning. Only instead of taking to the sky in a spectacle of colors, this show was limited to the ground and a sea of orange flames.

Turning to look at Red Robin she found him looking on with the same level of shock and awe. “Is there a drone we could use to fly over there to figure out what’s going on without us having to get close to the explosions?”

Tearing his eyes away from the chaos, Red Robin’s hand flew to his wrist computer, berating himself under his breath, “I’m supposed to be the genius. I’m supposed to be the one whose been doing this for years. I’m the adult.”

From behind, Red Hood patted his shoulder in mock sympathy with enough force to cause the younger man to dip from the unexpected pressure. “Don’t sweat it man, back when she was just a baby she was coming up with better plans than you. It’s ingrained in her DNA.” He paused and then shook his head as he realized there was more than one truth to his statement.

Rolling her eyes, Ladybird chose to ignore them for the moment as she listened through the comms. All the groups were trying to get closer to the explosions, but they were going off sporadically, preventing any chance to get close enough to find the source, not without risk to life or limb.

“Red Robin has a drone which should be on sight shortly.” Ladybird relayed through the comms, only to be interrupted by Superboy’s, “I can go in.”

“No!” Ladybird panicked, afraid with his speed even a moment’s delay would lead to her boyfriend moving without thinking. “I’m not sure which Miraculous could cause this, but we shouldn’t rule out the involvement of one. I know you’re mostly invincible, but we can’t be sure the fact holds in the face of Miraculous magic considering even Miraculous holders aren’t immune.

There was silence through the comms, which she wasn’t sure was a good or bad thing until Red Robin broke it. “Drone is a minute out.”

The question of whether Superboy had listened or not was answered when he suddenly appeared beside her with Nightwing and Oracle who’d likely caught a ride. The relief which coursed through her was palatable and he recognized it by dragging his fingers through hers as a form of comfort through contact while maintaining a level of professionalism considering the circumstances.

The group huddled around the shoulders of Red Robin and Oracle as they stared at the small screens on their wrist which showed the eyes of the drone as it began to survey the destruction. In the wake of the explosions only stones, ashes and embers in lieu of buildings were left behind. The number of lives already lost was sadly obvious even from a distance.

A nauseating feeling grew in the pit of Ladybird’s stomach. So many times, she’d looked out at Paris only to find its ruins before her, but looking now at Gotham the feeling was so different. Paris was undoubtedly caused by a man in possession of two Miraculous artifacts. Winning the day would mean Paris could be restored to her former glory. But here, winning the day may still see this part of Gotham in ruins by the next morning’s light, still have a toll on lives which should never have been lost. All because if this was caused by someone without a Miraculous she could not be sure Tikki’s powers would be able to undo all the destruction without risk.

Because balance had to be maintained.

Which of course made her feel worse for hoping magic was involved. The people of Gotham would not forget what happened during the next fight, but at least they could return to life and not be forced to rebuild if it was magic.

Scanning the footage of the drone she hoped to see a brightly colored animal themed suit, but as the drone continued among the destruction of what appeared to be a five-block radius, the explosions continued fogging the camera from seeing much more than the gray haze.

“Fly lower,” a deep voice surprised her, so lost in the footage of the destruction she failed to realize Batman had arrived behind her. “We know whoever is responsible will want to be a witness to the spectacle.”

Nodding his head, Red Robin lowered the drone with only a few commands on his keyboard.

“Wait,” Cat Noir grabbed his hand before Red Robin could input more, and the drone remained hovering close to the center of the destruction. “Look,” he pointed at the far right of the screen. There was an odd flicker in the corner exposed as the smoke moved to settle elsewhere before the next explosions.

“I saw it,” Oracle said, dragging her screen away from those looking over her shoulder to put in commands which allowed for a closer look. “The explosions seem to be having no effect on the specific area, like there’s a barrier.”

“How much do you want to bet it’s green.” Cat looked at Ladybird as she smiled, confusion reflected in her feline partner’s expression not understanding her joy at the idea.

“The turtle, right?” Nightwing asked. “It creates an impenetrable barrier. Of course, we can only guess which among a sadly long list of Gotham’s finest currently holds it, but not surprising they are at the center of it enjoying the show they created.”

“How long can they hold Shelter?” Oracle asked, fingers ready to type some calculations into her computer based on the response.

“It depends. If it is the kwami mostly holding the transformation because the holder is younger or not attuned to the Miraculous…minutes even without attempting to break it. But the stronger the affinity, as well as mental fortitude, age, the amount of magic demanded to keep the barrier up based on impacts among other factors...The answer is not indefinitely because they are not like me in the sense they are not made of Wayzz magic, but they could be like Cat with an affinity that makes them extremely well matched and able to hold the transformation for a couple of months if they don’t bring the barrier down and it’s not strained by impact...”

“So, our range is from minutes to months?” Red Hood interrupted folding his arms, not in annoyance with his sister but to keep from shooting something at the potential his sister’s words suggested.

“I doubt the League can recognize affinities for the Miraculous, at least not as well as I can. Plus, what’s going on down there is counter intuitive to the protective nature of Wayzz, so it is unlikely there is much affinity. Depending on his age, which let’s just say he’s at peak, the impact of the explosions on the barrier…. I would estimate the possibility of them keeping it going would be for no more than an hour under current conditions.”

“That is still a lot of time to destroy the city.” Batgirl voiced as Nemer’s group finally joined them on top of the roof.

“Do you think there are even more explosives? Not sure how many could have been planted without someone getting tipped off about it.”

“I wouldn’t discount the possibility of them being homemade, there are far too many on the list who I can think of who can make enough explosives to level the city without breaking a sweat or tipping off the authorities.” Nightwing interjected, his posture showing signs of being haunted by a similar experience.

“So, what do we do? How do we figure out who’s at the center of the show before it ends and they drop their transformation and disappear into the night? Only to blow something else up tomorrow?” Batgirl asked those assembled.

“Could you use Kaalki to portal us into the barrier?” Red Hood suggested.

“I wish. But, unless the holder’s intention is to allow access to other Miraculous users then no. We could use Cataclysm considering it is of stronger magic, but without knowing how many explosions are still planted, we could end up blowing ourselves up or the holder and lose the Miraculous by extension.”

“If Miraculous magic is unable to counter each other how was it you just didn’t use Shelter against Hawkmoth each time, how was he able to overcome the barriers?”

“The akuma’s or sentimonsters he created to use against Shelter were created with the intension of destroying that particular magic. They were never instantly effective, but over time they were able to break down the magic that made the barriers hold. Drawing the energy of the holder down to where the barrier broke and then the transformation was eventually lost. Not to mention I was never able to find someone with an affinity for Wayzz to risk the Miraculous use more than completely necessary, even my master with a strong affinity was only able to hold the barrier being directly attacked by an akuma for thirty minutes.”

“So, we have to do something to cause him to drop the barrier or increase the load it’s baring so the timer runs out faster, before the city is completely destroyed.” Red Robin sagely suggested.

“An akuma…AN AKUMA!” Ladybird muttered, missing Red Robin’s statement, before screaming as if it was the answer to all their problems.

“Milady.”

“We need your mother.”

“My mother?”

“Yes, we need her to transform and call upon either a champion or a Sentimonster to apply pressure to the barrier.”

“She is ready and willing.” The voice of Agent A broke through the comms.

“Oh, oh…can I?” Red Hood asked, “I’m a little riled up and would love the chance to hit something.”

“Papillion has locked on Red Hood’s intention and has sent a butterfly in your direction.”

With bated breath the team waited, looking at the sky to see a white butterfly emerge from the smoke. It took a while for the being to make its way from the depths of the manor, but for once when seen by Ladybird her heart did not stutter in fear but with hope.

It fluttered softly in starch contrast to the harsh explosions and fires beyond it, landing on Red Hood’s gun before being absorbed. A white mask covered the red one and two words were muttered before magic covered his body and left behind an image not too dissimilar from his last except for the oversized guns he held upon his shoulders.

“Let’s do this,” was all he said before he jumped from the building with superhuman strength into the flames consuming Gotham.

Chapter Text

Clearly, Emilie had been the creative one in the Agreste family if his enhanced uniform was any indication. Unlike the gaudy akumas of Hawkmoth’s reign, Red Hood Plus’ suit had only been enhanced with stylistic accents and bigger guns. If someone casually remarked about him trying to make up for something with his new weapons, he might have to agree with the appearance, even if it was absolutely without a shadow of a doubt, not true.

The new look wasn’t the only thing different, the power at his fingertips felt addicting, like he could accomplish anything he desired without much effort at all. The most pressing thing he wanted, the only thing he could think about doing, was to destroy Shelter and recover the Turtle Miraculous.

Feeling like he knew his new capabilities without needing to test them, in a single bound he managed to span the distance between two city blocks, and within thirty seconds he was at the start of the fires which engulfed a decent part of the city. As he stood just outside of it he could feel some of the heat coming from the flames, but from how it didn’t feel intense he knew the suit was protecting him from most of it. Just as the realization hit, one of the flames seemed to reach out and lick him, feeling as if it were just a warm embrace and not a torch on his skin, giving him confidence to enter the fold without hesitation.

The experience was making him wonder if his sister and her boyfriend were truly in possession of the most powerful Miraculous. The Butterfly just seemed to be capable of so much more, more possibilities, all one had to do was desire a certain power and the holder could grant it, almost like a genie.

Before he stepped into the flames, Ladybug’s voice filled his ear. “Agent A, could you please use the Peacock to create a Sentimonster which can detect any of the undetonated bombs and dispose of them. Taking down the barrier is but one step, we still need to be able to protect the city and ourselves from the explosions.”

“Copy,” Agent A’s voice sounded further back from the microphone from where he normally spoke, likely complying immediately with his sister’s request. The little conversation reminded Red Hood Plus immediately of why command was a role his sister was born to fill. She thought of so much before going into the fray, he on the other hand was much rasher than his siblings, often forgetting the small things before going in guns blazing.

How did he’d managed to die only once? Perhaps she’d rubbed a little more luck on him than he realized while in the League..

“Superboy, NO!” his sister’s voice once more spoke into the comms before a whoosh of air beside Red Hood Plus signaled the arrival of the youngest Super.

“No worries, LB.” Superboy had picked up use of the nickname lately. “Now that we know the explosions are caused by run-of-the-mill explosives I’ll be fine. I’ll just be here helping Red Hood break down the barrier more efficiently.”

“You might be indestructible, but your costume isn’t,” she hissed through a clinched jaw.

“It’s fireproof thought.” Teasingly, Superboy simply rolled his eyes at her antics and leaned over to speak into Red Hood Plus’s ear. “Girlfriends, am I right. Like she wouldn’t mind if my suit just happened to burn off, she just doesn’t want anyone else to see.”

The words didn’t belong coming from Jon’s mouth, maybe Adrien’s, especially if such words were in relation to his sister.

“I don’t want to see,” Red Hood Plus punched him against his bicep. With the boost in strength, the Kryptonian beside him wavered from the impact, causing Red Hood Plus to smile and crack his knuckles threateningly.

Realizing the fault in his words, Superboy changed his posture and stood straighter, stepping forward to hide the guilt from the stupidity of his words. “Shall we?”

Shaking his head at the antics, Red Hood Plus shouted as he jumped into the flames, “let’s do this!”

Without even finishing his jump, he realized immediately some of the powers which would have been really nice to have which weren’t equipped. With protection from the flames he could move and breathe normally but it did not include a way to see past the smoke which blanketed the affected area. Twice he jumped blindly, on the second leap he landed on top of a roof only for his foot to touch the floor and it to immediately collapsed from the heat and his added weight. As he fell to the center of the five-story building he somehow managed to stand uninjured after removing several heavy beams which fell upon him, but again he was left without a field of vision or a clear path to jump back out of.

Finding his guns which fell from his hands during the fall he aimed at one of the walls and fired without care. The resulting explosion, because there was no other way to describe it, was stronger than the handmade explosives being used to set Gotham ablaze and the unexpected kickback threw Red Hood Plus through the opposite side of the warehouse he’d fallen into and onto the street beside it.

“Not exactly what I planned, but it works.”

Brushing the dust from his jacket, Red Hood plus picked up his gun again and looked around. To say he was disoriented was an understatement, with landmarks aflame and his sense of direction shot from the smoke and fall, he had no way of knowing which way the villain lay in wait.

Despite the slower pace, walking was the only option at his disposal, and he hoped Red Robin’s drone would be able to see him and guide him in the right direction to the green barrier.

As if knowing the exact predicament he was in, “you’re heading three blocks north from where we believe the Turtle wielder to be,” Red Robin helpfully provided. Seeing the drone now through the smoke he offered his thanks with a two-finger salute before making his way south, not mentioning aloud how stupid he felt at needing the assistance.

As he turned the corner of the third block he saw the large green dome, which was significantly bigger than he imagined, spanning the length of a small overfill parking lot. The hectogon panels which seemed to form it glowed eerily bright against the smokey back drop, and even from a distance one could tell none of the smoke was penetrating it. Meaning there were no seams they could exploit when trying to break it.

Running forward he was stopped short as a dog, which he would describe as Cerberus, if Hell’s Hound came in the variety of a beagle, raced past. The being paid him no heed as his nose was stuck to the ground searching for undetonated bombs. At a dumpster not far away, it seemed to growl in agitation at what it smelled before one of the three heads bit down on the large box and the sound of a muffled explosion came from its mouth before smoke seeped out through its nostrils.

The Sentimonster.

Knowing what the monster was and that it meant no harm to him, Red Hood Plus raced to where he found Superboy before him, punching the wall with all his strength having only arrived moments before. As he came to stand beside him, Red Hood Plus noticed a thin layer of sweat already forming on Superboy’s brow, from the effort or his body being slightly plagued by the heat, unknown.

“Thought I might have to go and find you,” Superboy joked as he continued his assault.

“Nah, just wanted to give you some time to let you feel like you had a role in this before I brought out the big guns.” Superboy laughed, knowing the banter was all-in good fun.

Approaching the dome to get a clear look inside, Red Hood Plus used his hand to shield his vision from the smoke. What he saw shocked him a little and at the same time didn’t. Even transformed the Mad Hatter was easy to spot among the large table constructed in the middle of the parking lot. Several of his goons were seated along the rectangular table, enjoying a spread of tea, sandwiches, and scones. The destruction around them acting like nothing more than an enjoyable firework show, their gazes viewing it with awe and wonder matching a small child. Even Superboy pounding against the barrier was met with enthusiastic cheering and clinking of teacups.

Upon noticing the eyes of Red Hood Plus, the Mad Hatter acknowledged the presence of the newcomer with a tip of his hat in his direction before returning to holding his court among the growing flames.

Stepping back from the dome Red Hood Plus aimed both guns at the structure, positioning himself better to absorb the recoil. Out of his guns came two equally large blasts, turning on themselves as they seemed to grow bigger the further they traveled from him before they collided with the dome and a ripple skirted across it like a wave.

Turning to look back at Red Hood Plus, Superboy nodded his head in acknowledgement of the impact and power behind the blast, taking a step back as he realized his own efforts were like a sling shot hitting a brick wall.

The movement had exposed Superboy and proved Ladybird to be right, the front of his uniform had been burned away leaving his chest exposed. Thinking of Superboy’s earlier words he prayed to whichever kwami could make it happen he would not have to witness more being burned away nor their reunion, if Superboy stuck around any longer. His eyes had been burned enough for the day.

“Go ahead and survey from above for when this barrier comes down…before you lose the rest of your suit.” Taking note of what he was talking about the Kryptonian turned slightly red with embarrassment and nodded his head in acknowledgement before leaving.

Shaking his head as he smiled with fondness, Red Hood Plus returned to his work and stepped back further to test a theory. Two more shots were fired and as expected the further distance made a stronger impact. With the second ripple the Mad Hatter and his men could no longer ignore the potential consequences as the shock shook the table and several teacups fell to the ground.

Tipping his head up in a style that said, ‘what you gonna do about it,” he fired his guns once more without missing a beat. It took an additional five shots for the barrier to break and chaos to follow.

Unfortunately, when the barrier fell a large explosion blasted from the remains of the closest building knocking everyone off their feet. Before Red Hood Plus could see again from all of the smoke it created, Mad Hatter had already disappeared. A few choice expletives left his mouth as he raced off, trying to follow the path he suspected the villain to take.

“Barrier’s down, but an explosion blocked my view and Mad Hatter got away. Look out for his usual attire just all green.” Red Hood relayed into the comms. “Superboy, do you have eyes?” he asked, remembering he’d sent him up only moments earlier.

“No. From the smoke, heat, and the number of goons running around I can’t really be sure what’s going on down there.” Looking up at the sky Red Hood Plus tried to spot Superboy, but as he stated it was impossible to see through the lingering smoke.

“There were far more explosives than we could anticipate, and you broke the barrier before the Sentimonster could get them all. Be careful, his transformation will likely drop in five minutes and then he’ll be as vulnerable as anyone else to the explosions. Nemer, Cat and I will head in to back you up. The rest will stay on the fringe to hopefully catch him if he manages to find his way out.”

Every few seconds the sound of continuing explosions rocked the area and Red Hood Plus saw his life flash before his eyes when the dumpster before him seemed to explode in slow motion. The metal pieces were the first to go, first retracting and then swelling before separating from the intensity of the fire within. But just as he foresaw the metal piece slamming into him Cerberus Hound darted in front of him and like a vacuum sucked up the explosion and the metal pieces before darting off to prevent further roasting.

A little phased and blind, Red Hood Plus ran around hoping to stumble upon Mad Hatter before he lost his transformation, not because he didn’t wish the man would blow up in the explosions of his own creation, but because he didn’t want the Miraculous to become lost because of it. Marinette deserved for the universe not to plot against her for once.

“Ladybird, how confident are you in that five-minute timer?” Red Robin spoke calmly, but the tinge of defeat could be heard.

“Based on how quickly the dome shattered under pressure from Red Hood, fairly, plus a minute or two maybe but no more.”

“It’s been ten.” A statement of fact; implications of it implied by the silence which followed.

After a moment, the explosions which rocked the city became less frequent before stopping all together. The haze thinned but didn’t disappear as the warehouse district of the city remained ablaze.

Still transformed, Red Hood Plus searched every nook and cranny for the one responsible. Yet every corner came up empty, and every nook filled with a flamed debris. 

After closing the lid of a dumpster, which seemed to be the lone survivor of the onslaught, Red Hood Plus came face to face with Superboy. The poor boy seemed to be taking the failure of the evening squarely on his own shoulders, but in truth he was sharing in the disappointment of not having done this one thing for Ladybird.

Cat Noir was next to stumble upon them; his own shoulder hunched in disappointment. Still, he placed his hand upon Superboy’s shoulder, comforting him to the best of his ability.

From different directions Red Hood Plus’ family seemed to converge on their location. Nothing was said, the fact they’d basically searched the entire area between them, it was without saying the man of the hour had disappeared.

Ladybird was the last to appear with Cerberus Hound at her side. Of course, Robin immediately moved to stand beside the large beast, his hand absentmindedly reaching out to stroke the animal. Like a real dog, Cerberus Hound leaned into the contact, causing Robin to stroke harder and more determined. From the action it was obvious a request for adoption would follow.

“Robin, no.” Ladybird spoke, smiling bittersweetly. “I need his amok if I hope to fix any part of the city. I’m not sure it will work as he was not directly involved in the destruction, but with it and the akuma I have to hope there is enough magic to fuel my powers to at least bring back the loss of life.”

“But there is no need to purify them, Milady.” Cat Noir tried for her brother, from a story he’d told of their time in Paris, Chat Noir had once wished to keep an amok in the form of Ladybug who’d been freed of mind control but had failed thanks to Mayura.

“True, but I’m hoping by passing them through my compartment like I would an infected akuma, it might give me a little boost as the Miraculous will recognize the use of magic in some respect with the damage done here today.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Red Robin tried, looking at the large dog in wonder.

“Neither does blowing into a game cartridge and yet…Agent A please have Papillion release her akuma and your amok. Hopefully, at the very least, I can get the fires to stop or you can make another amok that can do it or something.”

“Wilco.”

Like a snap of one’s fingers a feather fell from the dog’s collar and bubbles overtook Cerberus Hound and Red Hood Plus. As they disappeared, Red Hood stood in the same spot and Titus’s extra collar lay at Robin’s feet.

With ease Ladybird captured both the feather and insect before releasing them just as smoothly.

As she fidgeted with the spotted gas mask she’d got back from Batman, Emilie Agreste spoke into the comms. “Ladybird? Ivy called, she said she has something she thinks you will want to see. I’ve had Agent A send Oracle and Red Robin the coordinates she left.”

Looking around, Ladybird seemed to look at Oracle as if she also received a hint about what Ivy could have, Red Hood however was more interested in the reasoning behind Cat Noir’s mom having Poison Ivy’s phone number.

Delaying the release of her power, Ladybird stowed the mask and led the group to the position Poison Ivy had indicated. Turning the corner, they saw Poison Ivy in pajamas, as if she’d ran immediately from her slumber to help, standing before a web of vines crossing from both sides of the street.

Upon hearing their arrival, she turned to greet them fondly, something Red Hood never imagined witnessing, nor having the greeting just as emphatically returned. Even more so, he did not expect to witness what he did as she stepped aside from what previously held her attention in the center of her web.

Wrapped like a bug in a spider’s web, the distinctive hat of Mad Hatter peaked out of the wrapped vines. Upon seeing it, his sister’s shoulders seemed to fall in relief, the day had not been completely lost, and they hoped to find the missing Miraculous on one of the arms of the tied-up villain.

Smiling, Poison Ivy had her plants released the villain enough for his wrists to become free from the attachment. Lifting one she exposed where a beaded green bracelet rested. “I think you are looking for this,” she beamed.

“How?” Ladybird asked in awe, staring at the jewel as if it were a person she had not seen in years, hovering beside the villain was a small kwami who may have been responsible for the look.

“Heard the explosions and knew you could use the help, figured the least my plants could do was churn up some dirt to help put out the fires. Found this one trying to escape the carnage and figured he was responsible. Called a certain someone once I had him, and she hinted he might have something you were looking for.”

Ripping the Miraculous from the man’s wrist, Ladybird said a few words she’d said to the villains before him and then the white light of her Guardian magic covered him. “Oracle, call the Commissioner. I am sure he will want the one responsible for all of this.”

Taking a step back she pulled the gas mask from her belt before throwing it in the air as she screamed. “Miraculous Ladybird.”

Red Hood wasn’t sure who to pray to, but he prayed for the city. For his sister’s magic to take care of it in a way the city had never been taken care of before. Because just like her, the city needed a break.  

Chapter Text

The bell rang and students began to filter from their classrooms to move on to their next. Sparing only a glance for the passing students, Marinette instantly returned her attention to the project before her. With everything going on, her designs were the only thing which truly gave her moments of solace. The importance and attention needed for the details on this dress made it impossible to focus on anything else.

A much-needed reprieve from Miraculous drama.

The form before her was starting to take shape, the draping reflecting the effort spent over the last few days, still weeks away from becoming a true reflection of her drawing. Babs had insisted on having the tailoring of her wedding dress done by someone else due to the tight schedule and pressure the whole family was under, but she hadn’t realized Marinette needed this. Needed an outlet for her brain to shut down, needed to do something she loved completely free of the Miraculous, aside from the creation bug Tikki had imbued her with at her conception. And fortunately, her fashion instructors at the University allowed the completion of said wedding dress to act as her final grade for two of her courses.

Another perk of being a Wayne.

The bell rang for the second time marking the start of the next period. Her supervisor checked on her progress before stepping out to spend the class in the teachers’ lounge enjoying a fresh cup of coffee and ample conversation with other teachers during their break periods. She would not return as lunch would follow, leaving Marinette in the silence she craved.

Taking a step back, Marinette looked over her most recent pin placement and was rewarded with a completed bodice shape. Placing the swoop sleeve on the sweetheart neckline and sewing it all together was all that would be required for it to be finished before she could work on the embellishments. As she looked carefully for any mistakes she wondered if she should toss the whole thing. Not because it wasn’t perfect, but because as she stared at the form she realized how much she loved it. Jealous because it meant she’d be unlikely to wear the same cut for her own wedding.

Not that it was close to happening or anything.

Stepping forward to remove the pins so she could bring it over to her sewing machine, she was stopped short as arms wrapped around her and pulled her to a firm chest. Familiar with the action she instantly knew who had done it and relaxed by closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to inhale the essence of him. Sandalwood, clean laundry and just a hint of musk uniquely Adrien’s.

After a moment, she shifted all her weight back to her feet while remaining in the embrace. “Don’t you have physics?”

“I hate that class, so I decided I could spend my time doing something more productive.”

Scoffing, Marinette turned in his arms so she could wrap her arms around his neck. “But physics is your favorite subject.”

“Still is, but the teacher here…never thought one person could ruin a subject. Talked to Tim though, took a test, and next semester I’ll be dual enrolled in a physics class at GU instead.”

“Onward towards a physics degree then?” she giggled sweetly, the playful nature on the topic due to physics being her least favorite class as for some reason it could never keep her interest.

Kissing her forehead, Adrien rested his head on top of hers, a clever way he and Jon thought they could point out their height difference. “After having Mr. Hutchings, I think I’ve finally landed on a career path. If one man can ruin a subject for a kid, I want to be the one man who can make them love it.”

Shifting her head so he would back up a little, Marinette then moved to touch her lips against his in a small offer of affection, happy he’d finally landed on something he wanted for himself. No longer shadowed by what was desired by others for him, especially one Gabriel Agreste.

“I don’t know how you love physics so much, after all, we defy it all the time.”

“True, but how would I know all the amazing physics defying things we do if I didn’t understand what is supposed to be in the realm of possible to begin with? Plus, maybe I can spend some of my research time figuring out how we do it, despite what physics say shouldn’t be possible.”

“Magic,” Marinette supplied, rolling her eyes at the obvious.

“Maybe, but before people became scientist and were allowed to understand the whys themselves, the answers to their various questions was the ready-made explanation of magic too.”

“Touche.”

“Besides Milady, you’re not magic. You’re real and amazing. I could never use magic as an explanation for how you came to be, not when you’re so tangible. Perhaps you’ll be my first case study.” He nuzzled his head into her neck and gave it a little bite, causing her to shiver at the sensation.

“That would be biology then, Doofus. And I hate to break it to you but she was literally created using magic, like you.” Plagg muttered from his jacket, taking the moment to ruin their moment of intimacy and peace.

“Maybe I’ll double major,” Adrien shrugged, taking the interruption in stride after years of exposure to the gremlin’s antics, leaning down to kiss Marinette as if he hadn’t been interrupted or insulted.

Tikki took the opportunity to fly from her perch and pull Plagg from his hiding spot to her own, chastising her partner in a low voice that neither could hear. Not that it mattered, both knew Plagg’s interruption was focused on obtaining the exact result.

“Well,” Marinette exhaled, stepping back and picking up a stray string from Adrien’s shoulder. “I’m not sure how I feel about you becoming a professor.”

The words caused Adrien to lean back and really look at his girlfriend. Unsure if she was aware how her words had hurt him a little. Never had he expected Marinette to be anything short of supportive of any of his ambitions. “What, why?” his voice broke in the same fashion it used to when Gabriel would deny him even the smallest amount of his time or attention.

Realizing the hurt in his expression, Marinette looked panicked and tried to quickly explain. “I don’t think I could bare to have all your students in love with you. I don’t know if I could handle it, I barely managed when you were a model and had to pose with other girls for your shoots. But as their professor you’d have to give them your time, not only as they stared at you from their seats during class, not really paying attention to your words but abusing your office hours, too.”

Leaning back even more, Adrien threw his head back into a carefree laugh. Looking back at Marinette, she couldn’t miss the desire, hunger, and possessiveness reflected in his eyes. “You never have to worry about that Milady, not then, not now, not in the future. No woman could ever tempt me, the whole time they’d be throwing themselves at their hot professor—if I do say so myself—I’d be thinking about how soon until I get back home to you.”

Smiling, Marinette kissed his lips before moving to give them some distance. Such romantic sentiments, even at their age, were enough to lead to something more than just simple kisses, and that wouldn’t be appropriate in their current setting. And a place she wasn’t ready to go to…yet.

“Besides, I was thinking high school teacher, want to inspire kids to study physics more. Anyway. Should we head out for lunch? Jon said it was alright if I stole you away, he’s expecting a few hours after school if you have the time.” He pulled her by the arm as he walked backwards, waiting for her to consent to leaving her work.

Looking back at her dress form, she smiled and turned to walk with Adrien. The dress was at a good stopping point for the day and had been a good distraction while it lasted, she was ready for a different kind.

Sneaking out of the school was easier than it should have been, and before she knew it they were in his truck and zooming out of the school parking lot like a Nascar racer despite the size of Adrien’s vehicle.

Feeling calm and comfortable, Marinette leaned her head back and closed her eyes letting Adrien guide them as she held his hand that wasn’t attached to the wheel and ‘checked out.’ By the time she felt the truck come to a complete stop at least thirty minutes had passed, still Adrien didn’t do anything to rouse her other than use his free hand to lightly move her hair to get a better look at her face. Opening her eyes, she tilted her head in a silent request. One he fulfilled without further prompting, following the kiss with his fingers caressing her lips as if they were priceless jewels.

“Thank you,” he whispered, causing Marinette’s nose to wrinkle in confusion.

“For what?”

“For giving me another chance. I may have forgotten the memories of doing this, but I knew I was missing it. I should have known it wasn’t the answer, I could never forget you, you stamped yourself on my heart the very day I met you. I was stupid, naïve, dumb, an idiot for thinking forgetting Gabriel and all the pain that came with his memories was worth forgetting this.”

“I can’t say it was smart, or I was smart for doing it, but I’m grateful too. The months apart were horrible because I remembered and I missed it, missed you. But I don’t think I ever gave up hope that you’d come back, and I don’t think you would have healed from it so quickly if you hadn’t gone the route you did. We can look back and say it was stupid and a risk, but it gave you and us certainty.”

“Even if we had to add to us to finally be complete.” Adrien smiled free of any sign of sarcasm in his words, kissing her forehead again. “I can’t say I didn’t beat myself up more after realizing my actions allowed you to fall for someone else, but I can’t help but feel it was always meant to happen this way. I have a feeling we will need each other in the future, otherwise, Bunnix would have likely come and kicked my ass when I asked, I’m sure of it.”

All Marinette could do was smile at his words, unable to contradict his statement in any way. With the way things were, she couldn’t imagine not having Jon with them.

“Come on.” Adrien interrupted her thoughts from spiraling into the abyss of what ifs. “We’re here.”

Turning her head, she finally caught site of where he’d brought them, it was the part of Gotham torched by the explosions from the Mad Hatter the other night. As expected, the cure had not been able to completely undo the destruction as it had in Paris. Too much was made without the direct misuse of a Miraculous and so balance had to be maintained.

Fortunately, her own magic which worked without the rules to a certain extent had managed to bring back anyone who’d perished from the fires and healed all those wounded, which to be honest had been her greatest concern. The extra went to rebuilding homes and personal belongings, but there wasn’t enough to repair the warehouses, or the ground scorched by the intense heat.

It left Marinette feeling like a failure, though the city was grateful, though they hadn’t been really aware of the extent of the damage or how her magic was involved with fixing some of it to an extent. A statement would likely have to be made in the future when it wasn’t the middle of the night and she cast the cure, but unsure how her magic would react with each altercation involving both magic and not, they weren’t sure what to say without leveling unrealistic expectations of her by the city.

As she looked out into the area now, it was different already from where they’d left it two nights before. The warehouses had yet to be repaired, but the construction company paid for by her father to supplement what insurance hadn’t covered had already started to set up to do just that, and the greenery which had been limited even before the fires had bloomed with new life. Botanicals, which in all honesty had no place in a warehouse district, lined the streets, filled the grassy areas to make gardens that rivaled many the pair had seen in Paris.

“How?” she asked, but as soon as she voiced the question she knew the answer.

Pamela and Marinette’s magical excess.

Without saying a word, Adrien smiled as he guided her to the center of one of the new large garden areas where a large picnic basket laid in wait. Unpacking it efficiently, Adrien took a seat and pulled Marinette down so she could curl up beside him.

The warmth of his breath touched her cheek like a gentle caress, causing a shiver to crawl down her spine and her body to seek out more of the heat he offered against the October chill.

“Just wanted to show you that you don’t have to take on the world. Every mess isn’t yours to fix, especially not alone. Our list of allies is growing and from unexpected places. We will come out of this on top, better than we were, wiser, and together.”

Looking around, Marinette realized the truth of his statement. Even as the Guardian, she was only meant to guide the imbalance back to equilibrium. The real fix had to be led by the city itself and looking around it was already heading in the right direction. 

Chapter Text

“Destroyed Bee Miraculous before?” Cassandra’s words were spoken softly but deliberately. Like she had chosen each word before saying it to ensure she got her message across with as few as possible. From what little he knew of her past, or rather what little Marinette felt was within her right to share, it was a result of her unorthodox upbring and treatment from her mother.

Looking up from the book he’d been reading Adrien took in the woman before him. The stance she held herself in while she waited for his reply was so like Ladybug. Made sense considering part of Marinette’s training had been done with and by the woman before him.

“Once, to free an akuma, Ladybug used her magic to repair it right after.”

The mask had changed with Ladybird’s transformation from Ladybug, just slightly larger to hide some of the freedom in her expression to match the aesthetic of her siblings. He had to admit how much he missed it, especially when he was reminded of such expression she once made as Cass leveled him with the question, “do again?”

Chuckling slightly to himself, Adrien smiled, figuring it was the similarities between the pair which made him willing to do whatever the woman before him asked. “What’s the plan?”

A smile just barely touched her lips, pleased he knew exactly what she was asking without her having to spell it out further.

Before he knew it, he was following her progress down the Gotham streets from the rooftops aiming to be as stealthy as the ninja he followed. Unlike the young girl he’d been following with Robin and Batman, Cass chose to play the part of the concerned and coherent young lady, caught alone in the middle of the night walking down the isolated streets due to unforeseen circumstances. From above it was like watching a work of art, there was something about a young girl knowing she was in potential danger, but forced to persevere, giving the same sense of foreboding as watching a similar scene in a movie. She appeared to be vulnerable and innocent, and somehow he knew that was exactly the kind of prey the Bee victim would be after.

Fortunately for Cass, but unfortunately for the Bee holder, she was not.

Holding up her phone, Cass pretended she wasn’t understanding the directions the map on her screen were giving, her gaze looking at the phone before snapping back up to survey the dark alleyway, Cat knew for a fact, it was not directing her to go down. Hesitating just the right amount of time, she walked off as if deciding better from the advice given by modern technology.

At the mouth of the next alley she stomped her foot again in frustration, pretending to be given new instructions to once again go down a dark alley, one admittedly even more ominous than the last. Peering down the darkness she rocked on her toes before glancing back at the other option. Pulling her shoulders back when her decision was made, she ventured down the unlit alley, using her phone’s light to try and guide her direction.

From a good distance Cat followed, trying his hardest to go undetected by the villain he knew to have some form of enhanced hearing. As they crept deeper into the alley, a feeling of unease crawled up Cat’s back, making him instantly regret not insisting upon Ladybird’s assistance in participating in the night’s sting operation. But Cass had been adamant, ‘too many, too much risk of scaring away.’

The dread continued to grow as he watched, yet there was nothing he could do. A promise was made to let it happen naturally, for her to lure out the villain, encourage him to use his power so the timer could begin and Cat would have an advantage. Unfortunately, Cat saw the shortcoming in the plan, which he could not convince Cass of. Whereas the Mad Hatter had not been in sync with the Turtle, obvious from the fact the nature of the Turtle was protection, the Bee’s was subjugation. The intension of the Bee holder was to subjugate for the purpose of something vile and disgusting, yes, regardless, the purpose was attuned with Pollen’s nature meaning the timer could be longer than was advisable to take on solo.

As if the thought had beckoned him, Cat saw a black and yellow dressed man drop down from a roof some distance away and step out of the shadows. As if a villain from a cartoon the holder’s movement towards Cass were slow as if methodically thought out knowing he had to hit Cass with the stinger quickly to avoid attracting attention before he could have his way.

It was like watching every single horror movie at the same time, as the victim moved carefully and yet stupidly towards the pivotal moment with the killer. As an audience you knew the victim and the killer were seconds from a confrontation, one which was unlikely to end well for the victim and yet the observer was powerless to say anything. While in a movie the lack of power came from it not being live in front of you, in this case it was due to the agreement to maintain the element of surprise to successfully overwhelm the villain.  

For not the first time, he wished his weapon was like Ladybird’s, a whip to pull either Cass or the Bee away. Without it, he was left with only his baton which he used to quickly lower himself from the roof to be only a short distance behind the Bee holder without his knowledge.

The target didn’t turn, but as if Cass possessed enhanced hearing, upon his arrival she spun on the Bee. Despite the vileness of his attempted crimes, the Bee lacked courage as he stumbled back upon being caught. Cat, who should have been prepared for the possibility, also stumbled back to avoid impact.

Lamenting his performance had to be put on hold as Cass didn’t hold back as she took the incident as a sign of having the upper hand. A mistake made similarly by Red Hood as Cat watched her wrist break from the impact of her swing. Luckily, she was smart enough to hold back and not reengage a second time, but it did not stop the Bee holder from attempting to advance upon her, believing his own suit provided everything he needed to take on a young vulnerable girl such as her.

Like those in possession of the other Miraculous gifted by the League of Assassins, this wearer had no knowledge of their awareness of the extent of his powers or Cat’s possession of the same and more. As the Bee went to strike Cass with the stinger, Cat leveled a hit of his own. Unprepared for the strength behind the hit, the Bee slammed into the wall after Cass barely dodged his stinger. The suit absorbed most of the impact, so the Bee was standing all too soon.

“Care to share who you are?” the man looked at Cat appraisingly, knowing he was dressed like one of the Bats but not knowing his association.

“Introductions are unnecessary. All you need to know is I’m pawsome and you’re just a drone in someone else’s game who is about to be turned offline.”

The guy’s face scrunched as if he wanted to say something witty back but seemed at a loss when he’d realized the puns. The action was something Cat could only smile at, knowing he’d once again left a villain speechless.

Not willing to allow the man to completely recover, Cat charged forward. For as little experience as the Bee had the suit aided in making the fight not as short as Cat would have liked, especially considering Cat was forced to avoid a charged weapon. One hit and he wasn’t sure Cass would be able to compete with the suited villain while Cat remained frozen.

Speaking of the woman who’d talked him into taking on a Miraculous wearer on his own, she waited for the moment to enter the fray without risk of further injury. The opportunity presented itself when Cat was able to get a second clean hit on the transformed man, which he’d gotten by pulling the arm holding the spinning top forward, and sending his elbow back into the nose of the attacker as he lunged. The Bee stumbled back, right into her waiting arms, with a singular purpose she was able to rescue the Bee Miraculous from the man’s hair causing the transformation to drop immediately.

Free of the enhancements she no longer had any qualms joining the fight. Like the dancer she was, she circled the man and landed three hits in quick succession with her unbroken hand, which not only rendered him powerless but knocked him out cold. Walking around him she kept her eyes on his motionless body to make sure he would not be moving any time soon before offering up the Miraculous for Cat to take.

Holding it within his paw, he tilted it into what little light was available, causing the gem to gleam. A feeling entered Cat’s chest which he could only call gratitude. Finally, he was able to offer his Lady one of the greatest gifts of all, a little something most women appreciated, a beautiful and powerful piece of jewelry.

In appreciation for allowing him to partake in the moment, knowing she had her brothers or sisters she could have called upon to assist in his stead, he signed his thanks to Cass, who merely smiled fondly in return.

Two calls later, one to his Lady and one to the police, the temporary holder of the Bee Miraculous had his memories wiped of the little goddess and her powers, and his butt firmly placed in the back of a squad car.