Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bunnyx sipped on her tea slowly as she looked at the man sitting across the table from her. Well, man wasn’t quite accurate as he was currently a toddler.

“I know I don’t even need to ask, but are you sure?” Bunnyx said, with a pleading look that she didn’t allow to reach past her eyes. They both knew that it needed to happen. And that it had to happen like this. But she was still human, and so she at least had to try.

The person across from her shook his head as snapped instantaneously into the form of an old man. “You know as well as I do that it’s time.”

A waiter approached their table and refilled their waters. He didn’t even bat an eye. To him, they were just another pair of geeks who went a little too intense for the comic con happening down the block. And they weren’t the only ones dressed up. There were no less than seven Batmans and four Wonder Womans throughout the cafe. Maybe he would’ve reacted if the god of time shifted in front of him, but even then, it had already been a long shift and the waiter wouldn’t have known whether or not it was just his tired eyes playing tricks on him.

“They’re just so young. I can barely remember what I was like when I was that age.”

“You were mostly the same, Alix. With a little bit more energy and a lot less knowledge. Your competitive streak was a much stronger force back then.”

“Kim had it coming,” she said laughing despite herself. She picked up the pastry she had ordered and brought it to her mouth, but stopped when her companion finally spoke up.

“They are. Young, I mean. This should never have been a job for sixteen year olds.” He looked off in the distance. “But it always was.”

“Damn the timestream,” Bunnyx said. She couldn’t have said it to anyone else, except him. Clockwork was the only person in the multiverse who could truly understand. He could never admit it, but she knew he didn’t always appreciate his role.

“Yes.” Bunnyx mouth dropped open at his response. “Damn the timestream.” If she had been drinking water in that moment, she would’ve spit it out. She had never heard him use language like that in all her years of knowing him, let alone say something like that about his job. She was mortal, the rules were different. But him?

“You really care about him, don’t you?” she said.

“I do. So do you, care about her that is.”

She grimaced but nodded. “One of my best friends for the longest time.”

Clockwork sighed. “We’ll do what we can for them. We will make sure that they make it through.”

She nodded, full of the determination she had held onto since youth. “They’ll get through it. It’s just gonna… suck.”

The man sitting across from her was now a teenager, scraggly and scrappy. “Yes. Now, we are both clear on the details of the plan?” Bunnyx sighed but nodded. “Then it’s time to put things in motion.”

Chapter Text

The scream that Ladybug released could be heard throughout Paris.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Throats slit. Blood on the floor of the bakery. The floor she had spent the morning mopping clean so that her parents could sleep in a little longer. That floor. A flood of red.

Her mom. Her dad. 

She could still feel the descent. Down the stairs and within her chest. Some part of her knew from the moment she heard the screams coming from the bakery. She had run. She hadn’t moved.

The sword was the first thing she saw. In the hands of someone dressed in all black, with a covered face. Each detail came into view in its own time. That time was just seconds, but Marinette knew she would be living the rest of her life in those moments. And that moment she saw her parents dead, on the floor.

She had known as she had run down the stairs. Somehow, she knew what she would find. 

The next moment, the figure ran up to her. She noticed the others that covered the room. Dead or dressed in all black and coming towards her. 

She didn’t remember transforming. She did remember the feel of her hands as they made contact with the attackers. She remembered the satisfaction of the crunch as she elbowed one in the face. She remembered turning and expecting Chat Noir by her side and finding no one. 

And she remembered, she could still feel, the sinking in her core when she realized there were too many. The depth of the void fear made in her during that moment, she would never forget. When you realize you are alone, utterly and completely alone, the void makes its way into you. And then you are full of nothing but it.

She had crashed through the window; the door was too far away for her to make it. Throwing out her yo-yo and swinging through the streets, she hoped she could make it farther than they could on foot. 

Instinctively, she made it to the Eiffel Tower. And there, she screamed. Ladybug didn’t know if she was imagining it or not, but it felt as if the ground shook from the force of it. 

She didn’t know how long she was there. It took too long for her to realize what she was waiting for: her partner. Chat Noir— Adrien,  she remembered, still unused to knowing his identity—he had to have heard her. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here yet? When she realized it, made aware of her phantom limb, she called him through her yo-yo. But it cut off before the call was made. He wasn’t transformed. Without thinking about it, she detransformed, realizing a moment late that she shouldn’t bring her guard down. But in she needed Adrien like she needed to breathe. She needed her partner more than anything. Because...

The blood. 

She called him on her actual phone. Down, down, down she went in the time where she waited for the call to go through. But there was never even a first ring. It couldn’t go through. 

And she knew immediately that something had happened to him. 

Her Kwami was talking to her and had been for some time. Marinette couldn’t hear her. She couldn’t process anything beyond the burning inside her chest. She transformed and was about to take off to Le Grand Paris where Adrien had been staying. She could fix this, it couldn’t be too late, she could save Chat. But something landed next to her on the beam she was sitting on.

“Ladybug.”

Her brain turned to ice as she slowly turned to the side. Next to her, wearing almost all black, just like....

In her mid-forties, middle eastern, lean, something hidden in hands, cold eyes. Ladybug sized her up immediately. But her face was visible. Unlike the attackers. Something was different about her. And the pause it brought her was enough to break Ladybug. She couldn’t move. Just waiting in the silence.

“I’m sorry,” the woman started with. 

Ladybug jerked back like she had been slapped. “Wh... what?”

“I was not fast enough. I am sorry for your loss.”

Ladybug finally returned to herself.  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” Ladybug didn’t say anything about loss. The word was static to her, and she couldn’t hear it yet. She could still see the red in her vision. It had just happened. It couldn’t have been real. 

“Talia, Talia Al Ghul. I came to warn you. But my father’s men beat me here.”

“Your father...”

“Marinette,” Ladybug flinched from the use of her real name, “you have to stop him. He has plans that... He cannot get his hands on your Miraculous. Any of them. He cannot get his hands on another one.”

“What are you talking about? What is going on?” Ladybug was grabbing onto Talia with some kind of desperation that stood as her armor. Talia didn’t even react to her grip. “Another one? Another Miraculous? Who...?”

“My father, Ra’s Al Ghul, is the head of the League of Assassins. As of this morning, he was able to get his hands on to the Black Cat Miraculous.”

Less than a whisper, Ladybug breathed out his name. “Adrien.” Her world was shrinking into nothingness.

“Yes.” 

Marinette realized belatedly that tears were streaming down her face.

Talia’s eyes widened as she realized what Ladybug was worried about. “He’s not dead. He’s safe, currently. His father, Gabriel Agreste will not allow him to be hurt, it was part of the deal he made with my father.”

Ladybug let out a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding. The void let up for a moment as she realized the boy she loved was safe. Until the rest of Talia’s word caught up to her.

“Gabriel. Hawkmoth made a deal with this Ra’s Al Ghul. That’s how he knew where to find me. And Adrien, where is he? What did they do to him?”

Talia gave her a small smile. “They are keeping him at the League’s base. Ra’s thinks they’ll be able to get more information from him about the Miraculous. But right now, it’s you they want.”

“Where is it? I have to go save him.” She prepared her yo-yo to swing off as soon as she was given a direction.

“Marinette. You cannot rescue him. You need to run. If my father gets a hold of you, this world is doomed.”

A weight settled on her shoulders, and she began to understand the gravity of the situation and what she was truly up against.  “I can’t leave him. I just got him. I have to protect him. His father—”

“ —Marinette, he told me to tell you that you have to leave. He said you would be difficult to convince. He told me to tell you, and I quote ‘it’s still you and me against the world, we just can’t be together for this fight’” 

She wanted to throw up. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t.

“Where would I even go?” she asked. Her voice was breaking, and she knew in that moment she sounded much younger than she actually was.

“Gotham. It is the only place my father cannot reach,” she said with finality.

Ladybug shook her head, baffled. “Gotham, USA. The crime capital of the world? That’s where the Miraculous will safe?” But there was something else. Supposedly, Gotham, that was where her bio family…

Talia nodded gravely. “Yes. Batman keeps the League away from his city. He’s one of the only people that can stand up to Ra’s. If you need help, Batman can give it to you. Tell him I sent you, tell him what I told you.”

This was all too much, all too quick. “Why? Why are you helping me? Why are you working against your father? How do you know all this?  How do you know Batman?”

“My father and I, we don’t always get along. But I try to stick around the organization. When I heard what was happening, however, I couldn’t let him go through with it.”

“And what is he planning?”

Talia shook her head. “It’s better if you do not know.”

Ladybug would have pushed, but she didn’t have the energy to. Still, she couldn’t leave everything in the hands of this mysterious woman. “How can I trust you? How do I know you’re telling the truth?” 

“Marinette, would anyone have been able to make up what Adrien wanted to tell you?”

No, that was all her Chat. This was real. It was actually happening. Ladybug was known for her quick-thinking. And in that moment she knew, there was no getting out of this. It was time for action.

“What about Paris? And my parents, what about…”

“I can ensure that they are given a proper burial, it is the least I can do. And you have allies, do you not? Surely some of them should be able to care for the city. As long as you still have most of the Miraculous, especially the Ladybug, my father’s attention should stay on you.”

Nino and Alya, they could take care of the city. She would leave them their Miraculous and a note. She couldn’t see them now or else she would never leave. And she couldn’t tell them where she was going, the less they knew, the safer they would be. But there was still someone left. “Adrien, promise me you will protect him.”

“Marinette, that is a difficult thing to guarantee.”

“Promise me. Or I can’t leave.” Ladybug could feel a spark underneath her skin as she spoke, something that felt impossible as the void threatening to swallow it whole. But for Adrien, she could be strong.

Talia took a deep breath and looked out over the city as she responded. “My son is Gotham. If Ra’s is able to go through with his plan, my son will be in great danger.” She turned to stare Ladybug in the eyes as she finished. “So, yes. I promise, I will protect Adrien with my life.”

Ladybug held out her hand for Talia to shake. “Thank you.” Talia left quickly, giving Ladybug space to make the next step.

The hero stared out at her beloved city as she pull the Horse Miraculous out of her yo-yo and combined it with her current form. Paris had been her everything, her whole life. And now she had to leave it. A breeze brushed against her skin as if the city itself was waving her goodbye.

Ladybug gripped onto the void inside of her chest, it was the only thing that gave her the resolve to open a portal that would carry her far away. And she would never forget the moment she stepped through, and chose to leave everything behind. 

Chapter Text

Danny couldn’t scream any more. His throat was so raw that the only sound he could make was a weak whimper.

Being awake meant being in pain. He didn’t want to be awake. Why couldn’t they ever just let him sleep?

“Danny! Danny! Honey, you have to get out of here!”

His name, he hadn’t heard that in days. Not since before his parents. He realized he couldn’t feel the familiar cuffs around his wrists and ankles. This couldn’t be the GIW, they never took those off. Slowly he was able to open his eyes. He could hear some kind of shooting in another room, but right in front of him was Jazz.

Jazz!

“Hey, there you are. It’s time to get up.” She started pulling on his arms to lift him to his feet, but with the motion, he could feel every single one of his gashes stretch and tear back open. They had only just been healing. He didn’t know if he had cried out or if she just saw it on his face, but Jazz let him back down slowly.

“Shoot. I don’t know how we’re gonna do this.”

Putting all he could into it, he asked “What’s happening?” It mostly came out as a scratch. Still, she understood somehow

“We’re getting you out. Tucker, Sam, and I broke into the GIW base. They’re keeping the agents back right now, but I don’t know how long they’ll be able to hold it.”

“You guys did what?” Danny wasn’t quite processing what was happening around him, but he still knew that was she said should be causing alarm.

Jazz looked him up and down before going to scoop him up bridal style. Danny gritted his teeth and pushed through the sharp, agonizing pain. The world went black for a moment, but it returned quickly. He had lost so much weight, Jazz didn’t look like she was straining to hold him.

”We couldn’t leave you here. Sorry it took us so long.” The world rushed past as she took him out of the lab room and into the hall. The noises from the fight were practically deafening as Sam and Tucker shot some kind of gun Danny had never seen before at the familiar agents down the hall. As soon as they saw Danny, they took off with Jazz down the hall, still shooting over their shoulders.

“Danny!” Sam shouted. He tried to turn his neck to face her, but he still was unable to keep up with the motion around him. Before he knew it, they were bursting out into the daylight. 

Sun. He hadn’t seen that in so long.

Danny heard the sound of a car starting up and was able to make out Tucker in the driver’s seat as Sam held open the door to the large kidnapper van. That was all the warning he got before Jazz hurtled the two of them inside. Sam jumped in right behind them and slammed the door. They were already racing off by the time it shut.

The impact set Danny’s body on fire, and he was only able to hold onto consciousness for a few more moments before the pain took him under.

…

That was a nice dream. Good break from the nightmares. Back to the pain.

But somehow his hands still weren’t cuffed. And whatever he was laying on, it wasn’t the hard concrete of his cell. And was that a blanket over him?

Danny sat up suddenly. The room around him had some kind of yellowish wallpaper. A tv on a dresser. Some small desk. And yeah, he was under a blanket. On a bed.

For some reason his heart rate picked up. Why was he scared? This definitely wasn’t the GIW. That was good. Why was he freaking out exactly?

”Danny! You’re awake!” Tucker said, coming around the corner from a bathroom Danny hadn’t noticed. At the sight of his friend, his heart rate started to slow down. They had been running from mortal peril last he remembered, so it relieved Danny to see his friend alright. He was actually remembering to breathe again.

“Where are we?” His voice was still scratchy, but at least he was making noise. Just how long had he been out, that his throat was able to heal so much?

“Some motel a few hours out of Amity. Jazz and Sam will be back soon. They just had to pick some stuff up.”

Danny nodded and attempted to stand up. Attempted being the key word. He didn’t get much farther than moving his legs towards the edge before he got light-headed. Tucker was at his side in an instant with a hand on his chest to stop Danny from attempting again.

“Dude. Lay back down. You’re pretty busted up right now, you need the rest.”

Danny stared up. He had no idea what to say to the friend in front of him. It felt like years since he had seen someone who didn’t want to tear him to pieces, although it couldn’t have been that long. Humor, he remembered. That was something to fall back on, and it hadn’t failed him yet. “Please,” Danny said as he laid back down, trying and failing for his normal banter tone. “This is nothing. Last time they cut me up was easy compared to the rest. They didn’t even take any organs.”

Tucker’s face lost a bit of color, but he tried to cover up his reaction. “Still, man. You shouldn’t push it. As soon as the girls get back, we’re gonna wrap you up again.

“Again?” Danny lifted up the blanket to see bandages wrapping around his torso. And his arms. And a couple spots on his legs. His body almost looked like a mummy. “How long have I been out, exactly?”

”Couple days now.”

“Days? That’s insane! And you guys let me?”

“You clearly needed it. We gave you some ectoplasm when we first got you out. We think your body’s just been using the supply to try to put everything back together since then.” Tucker looked down at Danny’s body and it was clear his mind was elsewhere before he blinked his eyes and visibly pushed the thought away. “Besides, we wouldn’t have done anything even if you were up. We’ve been too busy putting together a plan.”

“There’s a plan?”

”Kinda. We—”

The door slammed open. “Tuck! We’re back! And we brought pizza!” Sam walked in, arms full of bags with two pizza boxes balanced precariously on top of the haul. Jazz was quick behind with her own mess of bags.

“Sam, shush! Danny’s—”

“Awake,” said the boy himself.And they were there. Everyone was safe.

Jazz dropped everything and ran over to his side. “Danny!” Sam took an extra moment to set the pizza boxes down before she dropped the rest of her things and raced over. 

His sister wrapped him up in her arms. And it definitely hurt, but he pushed through another moment just so he could feel her embrace. However, the cuts and bruises that definitely littered his body aggressively limited what he could tolerate. There were tears gathering in his eyes, partially from pain, but mostly from relief. He pushed Jazz off.

Sam moved to hug him but saw Danny’s face and backed off.

“You scared me! Don’t do that again, Danny!” Jazz said. She was grinning though.

“I definitely didn’t mean to! It wasn’t my fault! Mom and Dad…” He could still picture their collapsed forms on the ground. Danny didn’t want to ask but he didn’t have to.

“They’re dead,” Sam said, unwilling to beat around the bush. Her honesty was appreciated.

”Huh,” he said. Jazz wasn’t looking at him, but Tucker and Sam stared expectantly. Danny couldn’t quite drum up any emotion on it at the moment. He probably would later. They were his parents or at least the only parents he had ever known, he was adopted. And they were gone from this world. He suspected in those final seconds he saw them that they weren’t getting back up. Still, it didn’t feel real.

“They did it to themselves. If they hadn’t locked you up and then went bragging about it to the whole town, the GIW wouldn’t have raided the house,” Jazz said quietly.

Danny nodded but couldn’t really follow that train of thought right then. “The house. What about the house?” Stick to the practical.

“They left us everything. Well, left me everything, until you’re old enough. Guess they didn’t have time to change the will after you told them about Phantom. They changed it recently enough though, they gave me custody over you. And don’t worry, I destroyed the portal as soon as the GIW took you, couldn’t risk them getting their hands on it.”

That was… something. 

With the portal gone, Amity Park didn’t really need Phantom anymore. But all of his friends, the ghost he had met over the years, he couldn’t talk to them, see them. The place he kinda almost ruled over apparently (he still didn’t understand how that worked, Clockwork said he didn’t have to worry about it now), he couldn’t reach. He knew why it had to be done though and he was glad Jazz took care of it, because he didn’t know if he would’ve been able to. He would figure something out, another way to the Ghost Zone, just not yet.

“So, what exactly do I do now?”

Tucker took over, breaking the connection between the siblings. “Well, first we get your bandages changed out.”

“And then? You said you guys had a plan.”

Sam jumped in. “You can’t stay in Amity, the GIW are everywhere in town.”

Danny knew he couldn’t go back. It still hurt to hear. “Yeah, okay. That’s what I can’t do, what can I do?” The three humans in the room looked between one another in a silent conversation. Jazz was the first one to answer.

“Well, after some research, we think we need to go to Gotham.”

“Gotham? Wait, we?”

Sam scoffed. “You didn’t think we’d let you traipse off to the East Coast alone, did you?”

“Nope. You can’t leave Amity. You guys have school soon. And Jazz, you get to start at the University of Chicago. You can’t miss that.”

“I can skip this semester, Danny. I already missed orientation week.”

“You did? What day is it?”

“August 20th,” Tucker answered.

Two months. He was with the GIW for two months. That was… another thing to process at a later time.

“Okay…That means you guys definitely can’t come with. You can’t blow up your lives for me! Sam, Tucker, you can’t leave your family. And Jazz, you can’t lose your scholarship, what happens to that if you miss a semester?”

“Danny, it doesn’t matter. I have to take care of you. It’s my job now.”

Under her breath, Sam said “The job has kinda always fallen to you.”

The plowed forward. “Jazz, no. I couldn’t live with myself if I dragged you to Gotham and killed your future, pun intended.” He looked at his friends. “Why Gotham, by the way?”

“Danny, this isn’t a joke!” Jazz said, but Sam quickly interrupted.

“Gotham was one of the only places we could find that had enough ambient ectoplasm for you. All the death and curses that place is under work in your favor. Plus it’s a big city, it’ll be easy to blend in.”

“Doesn’t Batman not like superpowered people in his city? Isn’t that a thing?”

“Technically,” Tucker said. “But if you stay under the radar, it shouldn’t be a problem. We also think that with all of the magic judo that Gotham is clogged up with, the GIW shouldn’t be able to track your transformed signature, even with your extra Ghost King power boost.”

“Seriously? Amity Park can barely do that. Is Gotham even safe for people to live in?”

Sam shook her hand in a so-so motion.

“But it’ll be good for you,” Jazz said. “You need the extra boost to heal. This is the only place we’ve found that you can get it. With what Mom and Dad left us, I have enough for us to rent an apartment. Not a great one if we’re planning on being there long-term. But I’m gonna have someone sell the house and that should really help. And I can get a job and take care of us.”

“Jazz stop. There’s no ‘us’ here. You cannot come with.”

“But Danny, it’ll work. I can make this work.”

“Jazz.” Danny grabbed her hand and looked her in the eyes. “I’ll go. I can live in Gotham. But I will not go if you plan on coming with.” He looked up at his best friends. “Any of you. Gotham is dangerous. You guys don’t need to deal with that. You need to work on leading normal lives.

“None of our lives are really normal, man,” Tucker chimed in.

“That’s not the point. The point is that you deserve lives. Whatever you can grab onto. And you can’t grab onto anything following me.”

“You deserve a life too,” Sam said. 

He couldn’t deny it to the people in front of him, but he wanted to. He lost his chance at a life when he died. He knew what they meant, though. And maybe he could try. For them.

“Alright, yeah. I can make myself a life in Gotham.” 

“Really?” Jazz said incredulously with a tentative hope in her voice.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

“You’ll go to school?” Jazz asked and he nodded, though he had no idea how to do that. “Meet people?” He paused but nodded. “Try for a career?”

“I can try.”

Sam and Tucker didn’t quite seem to believe Danny, but they went along with it anyway. “We can help you find a school. Figure things out,” Tucker said.

“Yeah sure. As long as you do it from Amity,” he clarified. Sam and Tucker nodded, knowing already that this was the best they were going to get from Danny.

“And I can take care of you financially.”

“Jazz—”

“We have plenty right now, okay? And with my scholarship, I’m taken care of for the next four years at least. We can make a new plan in that time.

Danny wanted to protest, but he definitely wasn’t in a place to get a job while adjusting to a new city, especially if he was going to try to go to school at some point. God, he did not want to go to school. Him and school? Bad pairing. Ever since his accident, his grades had been below average to say the least. Maybe if he wasn’t having to deal with ghosts all the time, though, he could do better.

“And I’ll chip in, I have more allowance than I know what to do with anyway,” Sam said.

Jazz started to argue but was cut off before the words were formed. “Please let me do this, okay?” Danny’s sister hesitated but gave in.

“Okay.” Danny clapped his hands together, wincing at the not-well-thought-out movement. All motion was bad right now, he needed to remember that. “Guess I’m going to Gotham.” 

Tucker pulled out his computer. “I’ll get a plane ticket ready. I think Bloomington has an airport, that’s not too far.” 

Sam grabbed her phone. “I’ll find an apartment. One that doesn’t ask too many questions. That should be easy in Gotham.”

His sister grabbed his hand again. “We’ll make this work, I promise.” Danny nodded. “Let’s start on those bandages.” 

Danny sat up straighter so she could get to work. She was incredibly delicate, but it still didn’t feel great. 

“I wish we could take you to a doctor. I don’t quite know what I’m doing. The internet is only so helpful.” 

Danny smiled. “What would we even say to a doctor? ‘Hey don’t mind the practically nonexistent heartbeat, and the below livable body temperature, it’s nothing. I swear I’m fine. Just need some stitches. But you have to use this specific thread or the stitches will dissolve. Again, don’t worry about it.’” 

Tucker and Sam laughed at that, which warmed Danny up like nothing else.

“Yeah, I know,” his sister responded.

Jazz kept working until she said out of nowhere, “Danny, you know your biological family?”

Danny froze at the sudden question. “Um… no I don’t, that’s kind of what happens when you’re adopted at birth.”

“That’s not what I— you suck. No, I meant, you know they’re from Gotham, right?”

He did not remember that. “Okay… so then this is like some weird homecoming, I guess.” 

“It’s a big city, you probably won’t find them,” Jazz added quickly. “I just wanted to make sure you knew.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

As everyone put the details together, Danny couldn’t help but think he didn’t really know what he was getting into. He’d made a point to stay away from the Justice League, and here he was waltzing into Batman’s territory. He didn’t know his bio family, but hey, maybe he accidentally wound up bumping into them while walking through a Target. And he was going to go to some random school where he would definitely be the weird new kid. This was just great. 

What could go wrong?

Chapter Text

Marinette stared up at the apartment complex that she was going to be living in for the foreseeable future. Some random brownstone, with only a couple broken windows, which was more than could be said for the buildings next to it.

When she had asked some local guy for directions, he looked at her like she was crazy.

“That’s in Crime Alley.”

“Crime Alley?” she asked her voice tripping over the unfamiliar sounds. This was going to be some pretty intense language immersion for her. She had studied English in school, but still.

“One of the worst areas in Gotham. You gotta stay away.” The man turned around and hurried off.

So Marinette wandered around on her own until she finally found it. She saw a couple different muggings on her way there, that man really wasn’t kidding. Despite her bags screaming tourist, she somehow managed to get there without problems. Thank you, luck.

The landlord had already given her the code for the front door. He changed it weekly so she’d have to remember to check her messages frequently. The key was left in the door of 3C for her. The landlord said he tried to spend as little time in Gotham as possible and wouldn’t be there to greet her. He said she might need to kick out some squatters, but that it shouldn’t really be a problem because the apartment didn’t really have anything worth stealing.

She almost regretted her choice of stay, but it was what she could afford right now without selling her parents’ bakery. And she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Never if she could help it.

Tikki poked out of her bag as soon as they got inside and were met with an empty hallway. “Are you sure about this Marinette?”

“It’s what I have to do Tikki.” Marinette made her way up a creaky set of stairs. She walked up two flights and almost started on a third before she remembered that Americans numbered their floors differently.

This was going to be an adjustment.

3C had a key in the door knob just like the landlord said. So did 3A, so maybe someone else was also moving in. When she opened her door, the apartment was empty. Luckily.

There was a kitchen and living room combination that was only about 12 square meters if she was being generous. The kitchen seemed competent enough, no where near what she had had at home, but she was already imagining the small meals she could make for herself with the measly appliances, so it would do. She had to look on the bright side.

A small hallway led to a bathroom with a simple sink, toilet, and shower, to a tiny utilities closet, and to her new bedroom, which was less than half the size of her previous room. At least it was cheap.

She threw her bags into the room halfheartedly. Then she pulled out the Miraculous of the Horse and transformed. Since she knew where she was going now, it wouldn’t be too hard. She couldn’t do this often, this time was probably the only time she could for a while, so she had to get everything she needed. She opened a large portal directly into her bedroom in Paris. She poked her head out tentatively, but there weren’t any assassins waiting for her. They’d likely bugged the room, so she couldn’t give away any information, just in and out.

Checking for bugs as she went, first she grabbed her mattress. With her bunk, she didn’t have a bed frame, so her mattress would have to go directly on the floor. Next was a small set of drawers that would fit the clothes she had bought. Her desk and chair were moved, those would go in the living room. Her chaise lounge, also for the living room. She had brought some photos in the bags she brought, but she grabbed a couple more, of her friends, of Adrien, and most importantly the big family portrait that had been kept in the living room. She grabbed some essential kitchen supplies, enough so she could make her own food. A handful of blankets she could throw over the walls to give it some color, and last but not least, her sewing machine and some sketchbooks.

The moment everything was through, she closed the portal. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, but still she worried that it had been too much and she had already done some kind of permanent damage. But still no assassins came bursting through her window, so she started setting up her new home.

…

The plane ride was long. Too long. Somehow, Tucker had gotten him in under a fake identity, fake license and everything. But he couldn’t help but feel like the GIW knew where he was. The metal detector broke as he walked through, and even though he expected it, he still worried that someone was going to tackle him to the ground and drag him back to the GIW when he just got out. That didn’t happen. They just did a spot search and he was good to go. The flight itself was rough. Danny was still worried about his guts spilling out if any of his rush job stitches gave out. That also didn’t happen. But the motion still wasn’t good.

Now on solid ground though, he pulled out the new phone Tucker had got him, a phone he had programmed himself which was supposed to be untraceable. If anyone could do it, it was him.

The GPS had him take a city bus, which he hadn’t really ever done. Small-town Illinois did not have public transport. The bus smelled bad—the whole city did—and there were funky sticky spots on the ground and stains on the seats. Danny opted to stand but before he could grab a handhold, the bus lurched, launching Danny a couple feet back and his suitcase went rolling. He eventually got his balance and grabbed his bag. From there it was smooth sailing. It was kinda cool.

He got out right in front of a library. To the left of the Gotham Central Library were shiny high rises that looked like they cost a fortune, to the right were stocky buildings that looked one good storm from collapsing. And he was headed to the right.

It wasn’t surprising. He hadn’t had a good budget for being in a major metropolitan area. He wasn’t particularly upset with it either. He had just begun to really sense the power around him. The city was truly covered in ectoplasm, and the crumbling architecture was even more strongly seeped in the energy. He could already notice the pep in his step returning. If he focused on it, he could feel his body stitching itself back together, which was cool but if he thought about it too hard, he might have a panic attack. So he was ignoring that.

Eventually he found himself standing outside of his new home. Tucker said the key had been left in his room, 3A, and he had texted him the code for the building entrance.

The place looked secure enough. It wasn’t like Danny was gonna have a hard time protecting himself from robbers or whatever else showed up. Well, probably, he wasn’t in the best condition at the moment. Who were Gotham’s normal rogues? There was Joker of course, everyone knew the Joker. Some guy who liked riddles, and one who liked the number two? Oh! Poison Ivy was here, Sam loved Poison Ivy. They all dressed in ridiculous outfits and had some kind of gimmick, pretty much like his rogues. Surely he would be able to spot them.

There were vigilantes here already. Maybe now he could try running away from danger instead of towards it. That would be cool. Too bad he knew he’d never be able to do that. His obsession with protection prevented him from leaving when he knew people were in danger. Screw ghost instincts. Though, if he was being honest, he was like that long before the accident.

He walked into his new apartment. It was about what he expected from a one person apartment in this part of town. The fridge worked, the stove worked, the microwave worked. Good enough. He didn’t really need much more to support his diet of instant noodles and random snacks.

He pulled out the air mattress from his suitcase and started to set it up in the bedroom. He’d buy furniture at some point, definitely. But for now, this was good.

Alright, it was time for Danny to get McDonalds.

…

Marinette stared at the living room around her. The blankets on the walls were a good idea, definitely brightened the room up from the drab brown that seemed to cover everything. The pictures almost made her feel less alone.

The room wasn’t bright enough though. She needed something more like a lamp, or Christmas lights.

She pulled out a piece of paper and began to write down what she needed. Lights, rug, new shower curtain, curtains for the windows, disinfectant (lots), groceries.

This was fine. It was manageable.

“You did a great job, Marinette! It looks so much better.”

“Thanks, Tikki.” The little Kwami nuzzled up against her holder’s arm.

The family portrait caught Marinette’s eye, and out of nowhere it felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

The void was back, rapidly pulling her under.

She was so alone. Tikki was rubbing her arm, but the motion couldn’t help her. Marinette’s whole world had been shattered. How was she supposed to recover from that? She could keep going. She had to, for Adrien, for Paris. But she really didn’t want to. She would make herself. She couldn’t stop going, she wasn’t allowed.

Marinette didn’t notice that she had collapsed to the kitchen floor. Her sobs took everything over, and she wasn’t aware of anything beyond her own labored breathing.

Room 3B had a tv on, playing some action show. Room 3D was out visiting their parents across town. And room 3A would’ve heard it, would’ve come over to comfort, but Danny was out gorging himself on chicken nuggets because he needed food to regrow the organs he was currently missing.

So Marinette cried on the floor, until she finally fell asleep. Tikki grabbed a blanket from the bedroom to cover her up with. There wasn’t much else she could do, but she was trying. And maybe that would be enough.

Chapter Text

For the past two years, Danny had gotten his energy from fight or flight instincts and caffeine. He was used to a constant supply of adrenaline, and realized almost immediately when he woke up and saw it was 3pm he now needed to compensate for the lack of the chemical if he wanted to be awake for more than an hour. So he needed coffee. An energy drink would also suffice.

A quick google source told him that the best cafe for a practically-illegal concentration of caffeine would be the aptly named Harper’s Heart Attack Cafe which was a block past the library in what he guessed was a more hipster part of town, just judging by the names of the buildings near it.

And so off Danny went, on the important mission to procure a beverage for himself. After that, maybe he could make a plan for the day.

This time, without having to lug around a suitcase, Danny was really able to absorb the city around him. He walked through the area dubbed ‘Crime Alley’ by the media, and could see why it was awarded the name. There was something going on at every corner, down every alleyway, he could sense it. Muggings, drug deals, fights, you name it. However, if he really focused, there was something beyond the dirty surface that called out to him. Not only was the energy, the ectoplasm, of the area so strong, it was cohesive in a way that he had never felt before. It was like he was tapping into a pulse of a beating heart that stretched throughout the whole neighborhood.

He could tell that people cared about this place, he could feel it in the pulse. And he could almost see why.

Despite the shady dealings of the streets, there was camaraderie and a community identity that seemed to hold the place together. People joked loudly and teased on another. Large groups of people hung out together on the corners and on the steps of buildings in a way that seemed to come from an older time, when life was slower.

Still, there was so much pain. The ectoplasm wouldn’t be that strong without it. Death and agony filled the cracks of the neighborhood’s legacy. Blood had been spilt, enough to paint the streets red.

Danny walked past the steps of the grandiose Gotham Central Library. It had architecture that tired to imitate the pantheon but aggressively missed the mark and made it stick out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of both the rich sky rises on its left and the falling apart neighborhood to its right. At least the building looked like it got funding. A sign on the door boasted of the library’s current art exhibit on Pompeii, another sign advertised a best-selling author who would be making an appearance in a couple days. The library even looked like it was largely in one piece, with no spots of current renovation indicating recent rogue attention. Would a Gotham rogue even attack a library?

He continued on past the library, walking past a much nicer area now. Danny ran his fingers through his hair and hoped he didn’t look too insane. Judgmental stares were not his favorite and he was looking to avoid attention anyway.

Finally he came upon the cafe he had sought out. A ton of posters on the windows for community events and concerts and other things made him feel a little better about entering. It couldn’t be too uppity if it had an advertisement for a feminist book club on the walls. And he was right, it seemed like the guests were mostly college students, others in their mid-to-late twenties, some teens hanging around. He would blend right in.

He stepped into line behind an older teenager, who was in some kind of expensive looking suit, and arguing with the blond barista behind the counter. Danny resisted the urge to step in to help the worker—because the low profile thing was kind of important—but realized he didn’t have to when he picked up on the conversation.

“Steph, please. This is the only place left that makes it how I want it. Can you please just make my order?”

She shook her head and smiled crookedly at the customer. “No can do, I made a promise to Alfred. I can however make you something decaf.” The two knew each other. The conversation was clearly somewhat friendly. Danny could relax.

“Is that the only reason you took this job? To keep an eye on me for Alfred?”

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’. “I am my own woman. I got this job so I can make some money. Now move if you’re not going to order something. There’s an actual customer waiting behind you.” The worker made eye contact with Danny.

“You don’t need the money, we’re rich!” the customer said without moving.

“No. Bruce is rich. You are rich. I am not taking your guys’ money.” Danny would try not to eavesdrop, but they were talking so loud, and he did enjoy hearing gossip when he knew it wouldn’t affect him.

“Bruce pays for your apartment.”

“Which I would like to be able to take care of for myself.”

“I can give you a WE job. Just make me the damn coffee.” The customer aggressively shoved his credit card in her face.

She scoffed. “I don’t wanna work for you. Or Bruce. Now move.” She stared him down, and the guy finally moved reluctantly over to the side. He made eye contact with Danny and his eyes widened for a moment before he quickly covered it up. But Danny noticed.

Steph threw on a bright smile as she turned her attention fully to Danny. “What can I get you?”

The guy stood to the side, but Danny chose to ignore him like the barista was. He stared up at the menu until he found the most insane sounding drink. “Yeah, um could you get me a large Heart Attack Special with extra whipped cream?”

Steph sighed and then pulled out a clip board. “Here, fill this out.” From the corner of his eye, he could see that the barista’s friend wanted to say something but kept his mouth shut.

Danny glanced down at the form. “What is this?”

“A liability waiver, stating that you understand the consequences of consuming this amount of caffeine. After the whole fiasco with Panera’s lemonade, this was rolled out so we could keep selling the special. Don’t worry, you only have to fill it out once.” Danny remembered that lemonade, it was the most awake he had been during school for months.

Finally the guy at the counter burst. “So you won’t give me the drink, but you’ll immediately give it to the next guy!” Danny kept his head down and filled out the paperwork, but it was hard to keep his chuckling to himself.

“Uh, duh. I am an employee of this fine establishment. And it is our job to provide for paying customers.”

“I am a paying customer!”

“You’re my ex. You don’t count.”

“Don’t count! How—” The guy dragged his hands across his face and Danny could practically see the guy counting to ten under his breath. “Okay. How about, if you give me the coffee, I delete every copy I have of the photos from your birthday two years ago?”

Steph raised an eyebrow. “Really? And you’ll let Babs verify? Check that they’re really gone.”

“Yes, I’ll let Babs check.”

She caved. “Fine, I’ll give you a small. But that’s it. And don’t expect this to happen again unless you’re willing to pony up more.”

Danny handed back the clipboard, now filled out, and gave her his credit card with it.

She glanced at his information. “Alright, Daniel Flemming, that’s one large special coming right up.” Steph put the form away and got to work on the drink while Danny found a spot in a booth close enough so he would be able to hear his name called out.

Danny wanted to scroll mindlessly on his phone while he waited. But it was a new phone with none of his old socials, and so who knew what the algorithm would choose to give him. And also with the low profile he probably shouldn’t be downloading any of those data hungry apps. Maybe the GIW could figure out where he was by how long he watched space documentary clips. If so, he’d be screwed.

He was in a new city though. A weird city at that. Surely people watching would be interesting.

His eyes tumbled over the patrons of the cafe. Pretty much everyone was sitting alone, working on something or other. There were a couple of couples but they were pretty quiet. He tried to tune into Steph and her ex’s conversation, but they were speaking in low tones now. The barista caught his eye as they were talking and held up the cup she was working on, which would hopefully be his.

Then the door burst open and everyone’s head turned.

Stepping with a gravity that suggested her actions could determine life or death, a short girl about his age came tearing through, placing herself directly at the counter.

“Just give me enough caffeine to put an elephant in the hospital,” she said with a slight accent that he couldn’t place. Though in fairness, he was pretty bad at accents. Her voice seemed to command the room. That wasn’t what got his attention, but it was probably why she still held the attention of the many busy customers.

The girl was radiating energy. He had no idea what it was, but his ghost sense wasn’t going off, so it probably wasn’t ectoplasm. More than that, it seemed warm, bright. Danny had no clue what that specifically meant. But he knew one thing.

This morning had just gotten interesting.

…

Tim’s anger at Steph didn’t really start to cool down until the cup was placed in his hands. Only then was he able to tamp down the urge to tackle Steph behind the counter and make it himself.

He wasn’t generally a violent person, nighttime activities notwithstanding. But he had a presentation with the board in an hour that he hadn’t even started to prepare for. He had completely forgotten about it. Sue him. He’d been busy looking into some weird readings he’d gotten in the city last night. Certain energy readings and radiation levels weren’t quite making sense. Likely some kind of upcoming villain attack. The sooner they figured it out, the better.

With the precious beverage finally soothing his throat, he pulled out his computer and got to work.

It took a moment for his laptop to pull up the files he needed. During which, he glanced up and cataloged the new customer once again. She had caused a scene when she came in, but now she was barely standing if the bags under her eyes were anything to go by. Been there.

Her body language was just stilted enough that Tim wanted to pay close attention. A glance at Steph said she caught it too. If only Cass was here, she’d know exactly what was going on. But it was just Tim and Steph so they’d have to rely on classic deductive reasoning.

Somewhat pronounced French accent. Asian features, probably mixed. Very clear Bruce adoption bait, with the black hair and blue eyes. (He’d like to pretend that was just a weird joke that the public was a little too involved with, but it kept happening to the point where they were running out of defense.) She stumbled over her own name, clearly using a fake one. Started something beginning with an M before switching completely to Charlotte. At least a few years younger than him, probably 15-16.

And yeah, he couldn’t help thinking she really looked like Bruce. Honestly, she looked a lot like the guy that came in right after him. Though that guy—Daniel was what he said—had more subtle Asian features and could probably pass for white. In fact, that kid looked so much like Bruce, Tim had jumped when he first saw him. Looked just like that huge old family portrait that hung in Bruce’s office. Bruce was little in that, but still. Daniel did have a bit of baby-face. He was probably new to the city, just considering that he hadn’t been kidnapped as a supposed Wanye yet. There was a handful of people on their frequent flyer list of repeated kidnap victims due to the presumed familial resemblance. He’d probably make it onto that list quick.

But Daniel wasn’t the one acting super suspicious, that was M—Charlotte who was now clutching a coffee cup with a death grip that matched his own.

A ding from his computer reminded him that he had a presentation to work on which he had to give in what was now 50 minutes. Not including the 10 minute transit time, he had 40 minutes to put together something at least passable to support his purposed budget adjustments. Why had he taken this job so young? Because he was damn good at it, that was why. But he was known to be a procrastinator in certain aspects of his life, school and his day-job taking the brunt of the problem. There was a reason he never graduated high school. Bruce made him get his GED, but that was different. No pile of assignments to get lost in the shuffle.

He’d have to put the suspicious girl on hold for now, but he got a couple pictures discreetly on his phone to possibly run through facial recognition later. Probably wasn’t necessary for something so small but he liked to keep his options open.

He watched as Charlotte sat a table away from Daniel, which was enough that Tim was able to tear his eyes away and get to work.

15 minutes in and about halfway done, he pulled out his phone to check his email. It was almost like taking a break, and Tim told everyone he’d try to get better at taking care of himself. That was of course the very minute that the ground decided to shake with the force of an explosion.

Hopefully someone would be smart enough to push the meeting back because of whatever act of terrorism was occurring. Either way, he’d deal with it later. Now, he had to deal with his other job.

Chapter Text

Bruce stumbled out of the hotel bed he could vaguely remember falling into earlier in the evening. The woman, Bridgette Cheng he thought, stirred then fell once again into unconsciousness. For a moment, he thought he should say something. Only for a moment.

It was times like these, he was happy he kept a suit in all his vehicles. Batman would be getting out later than normal, but it was still dark out, so it counted.

The trace alcohol in his system made his moments slower than he preferred. He had told himself he wouldn’t do this again. Since he took up the cowl, he had told himself that the drinking and the playboy thing would become relics of the past, just enough to maintain appearances only. He had to be better than that. If he couldn’t be better than that, he couldn’t be the hero he needed to be. He threw himself into the car, and headed to a nearby safe house where he could prepare for the night.

Batman was known for his will of steel. Bruce Wayne was weak, and these kinds of slip ups still happened. He’d be better. He swore he’d be better.

He had anticipated the difficulty. It was Father’s Day, officially as of four hours ago. Anything that brought up his parents, that was when he was at his weakest. He had visited their grave on the manor grounds, leaving fresh flowers. He had experienced so many more holidays without them than with them. He held on desperately to the traces of memory he still had, pouring over them again and again to ensure he would never forget them.

His father’s smile. His firm grip. His dedication to his company. His dedication to the city. Strong arms around him.

He checked the utility belt around his waist four times before heading out for the night. He couldn’t forget anything, he couldn’t be any clumsier than he already had. He had to be perfect and if he wasn’t Gotham would fall.

Swinging from building to building, he could feel the cool rush of air against the stretch of exposed skin on his face. The sensation was grounding in a way nothing else was.

Three muggings, three robberies, and one attempted kidnapping. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. That couldn’t be it for the night. He followed a suspicious looking car for a half a mile before it stopped at an apartment and a tired fast food worker stepped out. Nothing else happened.

His skin was burning, but he decided to head back to the manor anyway. He was running in circles anyway. There were projects he could work on at the cave.

Alfred was waiting for him in the cave when he returned. He had some meal put together that smelled wonderful, however Bruce’s stomach was already uneasy and he knew he couldn’t handle shoving food in it right then.

“Master Bruce, how was this evening’s gala?” Alfred said, following Bruce as he placed himself in front of the computer.

Bruce didn’t respond. Alfred already knew. It wasn’t worth reliving his weakness.

“The tabloids are already spinning stories your exit with Ms. Cheng. It seems you weren’t as discreet as you wished to be.”

Bruce pulled up the kidnapping case he had been working at for the better half of the week. His eyes examined the crime scene photos for the thirty third time, looking for something he had missed.

“The silent treatment, Master Bruce? Surely you can do better than that.”

Finally, he turned to look at Alfred. A voice in the back of his head told him that he needed to do something for the older man soon. Not today, but soon. Within the week possibly.

“The tabloids will be onto something else by the afternoon. And I am not giving you to silent treatment. I’m just busy.”

“Of course.” Alfred must have realized that was all he was going to get from Bruce because he then turned to tend to something else in the manor, leaving meal on a desk nearby. Bruce sighed and got back to work.

…

Bridgette wasn’t surprised when she woke up that morning to find Bruce no longer next to her. She knew who she was sleeping with. He was a playboy, through and through. He was a good time though, she didn’t regret it.

Four months later though, when the weight she put on still wouldn’t go away, when the exhaustion that had followed her for months still wouldn’t leave, when a regularly scheduled check-up turned into something more, then she was surprised. She took birth control for a reason. That reason was to prevent the predicament she was currently stuck in.

Twins. The sonogram stared at her.

The doctor gave an estimate of the time of conception, and Bridgette was able to put together who the father was. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized what was happening inside her body sooner, but she couldn’t change the past.

She wouldn’t tell Bruce. He didn’t need the attention. He was young, she was young. Neither of them needed their lives blown up by children.

She had always wanted kids. Not this young though. She couldn’t handle that. Bridgette had just managed to get herself high enough in the social hierarchy to be invited to galas like where she met Bruce. Her tech business was making a name for itself, she couldn’t let that go now. They had a contract with NASA. She wouldn’t abandon her chance at a future.

She hadn’t planned for this. And because of that, she struggled to make a decision moving forward. It was hard enough to admit it was happening, even when she could see the evidence for herself. By the time she confronted the idea of an abortion, it was too late to obtain safely.

Bridgette wouldn’t let herself be seen in public, so she set off to Shanghai for a few months to stay with family. She kept her business running remotely and was even able to get a Shanghai branch in the works. The thrill she got when purchasing the plot of land that would soon be the base of the office, knowing she was creating a name for herself, she knew she couldn’t keep the kids. As guilty as it made her feel, her children deserved better than a mother that could only halfway pay attention to them. Maybe one day she’d be able to make a family, but this was definitively not the time.

At the airport, on her way back to the United States, she considered reaching out to Bruce once again. She had found an agency that would handle everything discreetly, and they had informed her that it would be easier for the organization if the kids were born in the US. But it wasn’t too late, she was allowed to change her mind up until the last minute. Maybe, she should reach out to Bruce, at least give him the chance to step up.

Until she passed a magazine stand which showed Bruce on almost every cover walking arm in arm with a crowd of models. And she decided better of it.

The agency said they had homes lined up. Her son had held a space for months, but her daughter just recently had found a family. She had heard from the grapevine that some of her distant family had reached out. Given the agency’s dedication to privacy, it had required extra permission on her part to allow the placement. The family was distant enough that she wasn’t worried about running into them and they had insured her that it would be kept quiet, so she let it go.

Her kids would be better taken care of by the families they had found. Bruce Wayne didn’t need to know. He could keep up his current life, and he would never need to know.

…

“Dick! If you make us late tonight I’m not teaching you that takedown you wanted to see!” Bruce yelled upstairs, knowing the kid—his kid—would hear him.

Moments later, Dick slid down the railing wrinkling the suit that had been carefully prepared for him. Bruce would say something about it, but he didn’t care. Those rich stuck-ups at the charity ball would just have to deal with it. It was Dick’s first official outing in high society, so maybe he should hold him to some kind of standard, but Bruce just wanted to let the kid be. “I’m ready, I’m ready! And you promised that’d you show that move. I still don’t get it, with the shoulder and your knees, it shouldn’t work!” Dick ran past him and went straight into the car waiting out the front door.

Bruce joined, with a small smile on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he was smiling this often. Richard Grayson just brought it out of him. Alfred drove the limousine towards downtown where the fundraiser was supposed to be.

His ward’s words faded out as they got closer and closer to the skyscrapers. His leg bounced nervously. The motion made Bruce want to grind his teeth. He stopped himself, he couldn’t put Dick more on edge, and instead he held his tongue in between his teeth to relieve the pressure that was building in his skull.

He never knew what to do. He knew he had to make it better, but he didn’t know how. Bruce knew his methods, his ways of shutting down anxiety, weren’t something he should be teaching a child. He just didn’t know what else to do. Grayson didn’t like the quiet, he could help with that. “So, the event we’re attending is to raise money for the new Gotham observatory. It shouldn’t be too crowded. You won’t be the only younger one there, I’ve heard that Commissioner Gordon is bringing his daughter. I’m sure you’ll like her. And if you need to leave at any time, we can go, just let me know.”

Dick nodded his head and seemed to calm down. Which was just as well, as the vehicle came to a stop in front of the newly constructed observatory.

Bruce had purposefully sat on the right side so that he would be the first to exit the vehicle. With all of the cameras waiting for them the moment they arrived, he was glad he could be a shield for his kid. Grayson stepped out slowly, but gave a small smile for the reporters. Bruce knew that look would end up on the front page, a page which he’d have to frame.

They walked together into the building. About halfway up the steps, Dick reached out and grabbed his hand. Physical affection seemed to be important to Dick, but ever since his parents died, he had been hesitant to initiate it. Happy to be able to help, Bruce squeezed back firmly. He was there for him, no matter what.

Once inside, the two were swarmed with elites who just had to meet the Wayne ward. Status as practically royalty within Gotham had its complications, which were never more obvious than when there was gossip to heard. Giving some platitudes to satiate the crowd, Bruce pulled the two of them over to a smaller group where he could ease Grayson into the scene.

The small group was made up of the hostess for the fundraiser, along with a couple of her business partners and Commissioner Gordon who was informing the hostess of the security status of the event, which the police department was in charge of.

“Bruce Wayne! I heard you were coming out tonight! And with the family addition, I see,” Gordon said, putting a hand out for Bruce to shake. Dick stepped forward and smiled.

“Decided it was about time that he made an appearance, the vultures have not been kind in their quest for information.”

“No, I am sure they haven’t.” Gordon bent down slightly, extending a hand to Dick. “Well, Richard Grayson, it is lovely to finally meet you. Bruce has not stopped talking about you for months.”

Dick took his hand and shook it tentatively. “Nice to meet you too, but I go by Dick. It’s what my parents called me.” The unpleasant reminder of Dick’s past didn’t seem to phase Gordon, as he simply corrected his introduction and moved on.

“Miss Cheng, sorry to derail our conversation. I just wanted to inform you that this event is as secure as possible, and it seems that the night should go smoothly,” Gordon said to the host.

Ms Cheng nodded and Bruce caught her gaze for a moment and noticed the pure joy that twinkled behind her eyes at the success that the event looked like it would be. She turned and started a quiet discussion with her business partners.

Gordon turned once more to Dick. “My daughter’s here too, she’s about your age.” He looked over through the crowd before he found Barbara and waved her over. “Barbara, meet Dick.”

The two looked at each other, and Bruce suspected that they would get along very well.

“First time at one of these events?” Barbara said.

“Yeah. I was trying to avoid the rich and stuffy crowds but Bruce said it had been long enough.”

Barbara laughed. “Well, I can show you how to actually have fun with this crowd.” Dick raised an eyebrow, and Bruce knew that the two were going to be trouble.

Dick looked back at him, asking for permission. He knew he would regret it later but he said it anyway, “Go, enjoy yourself. Don’t get into too much trouble.” And they were off.

Gordon looked at him and smiled. “You know, I don’t think that’s going to end well.”

“I don’t either,” Bruce said, grinning.

The commissioner sighed and stared off in the direction the kids had gone. “You know, I’d love to stay and talk, but I am technically on the clock. I gotta go check in with my men.”

“Of course. Keep us safe.”

“Will do.” With that, Bruce now alone approached the hostess to fulfill the mingling requirements that came with maintaining his public appearance.

Bridgette Cheng turned to give him her full attention as he joined the group. Her partners clearly deferred to her as the ringleader and expected her to do the talking.

“It’s quite the event you’ve thrown here,” he said, making small talk. It had been a couple of years since he had talked to Ms Cheng. If he recalled correctly, he hadn’t actually talked to her since a hotel room which felt forever long ago. But she had left the country for a while, establishing a new branch of her company, and when she returned, Bruce had been too busy to attempt to catch up. He could already tell that she didn’t hold it against him, but it seemed as if there were something on her mind.

“Thank you, but you are the one who’s ensured this will be a night to remember. Everyone has been wanting to meet your ward.” She slowly took a sip of the glass she had been holding.

“Yes, well, I’ve been trying to keep him out of the public eye long enough. I think he’s ready to handle it now.”

Bridgette nodded. “That’s very… thoughtful of you, to protect him like that.” She smiled softly. “When the news first broke about what you’d done, most people thought you were just doing it for the publicity.”

He had known what the world would think, he was just shocked she would be willing to mention it so openly and soon within the conversation. But Bridgette Cheng had never been known to beat around the bush, she could be snarky and ruthless, but never indirect. “And what did you think?” he asked, following her lead.

She shrugged. “I didn’t know what to think.” She gazed him up and down. “You’re different than the last time I saw you.”

“How so?”

Bridgette tilted her chin. “Your smile reaches your eyes. It’s hard to tell when it doesn’t but here, I can see it.”

Maybe Bruce should’ve been worried about his cover. He’d worked so hard to perfect the persona of Brucie Wayne for the public. But she was right. And he was too happy to worry. He grabbed a glass off a nearby tray rather than respond.

“You really love that kid, don’t you?” she said, so genuinely that he answered in kind.

“I do.” He hadn’t even said it to the kid, his kid, yet. It was true all the same. “Growing up without my parents, I understood the importance of family. When I saw Dick lose his like that, I had to step in. He needed someone.” He took a sip from his glass. “And so did I.”

“Oh?”

He smiled. “You can only be alone for so long.” He was trying to flirt and he hoped that came through. This wasn’t about a warm body to lay next to at night. It was about having something to make you want to come home to that big empty mansion, giving the halls life once again.

She just nodded slightly, eyes off somewhere in the distance.

Bruce’s eyes scanned the room and quickly found Dick who was talking to a security guard with Barbara, for who-knows-what-reason. It had been a struggle for the kid, and he knew it would continue to be. But in that moment he was smiling, and Bruce hoped that there be so many more moments like that. The thought had Bruce beaming ear to ear and he let himself be happy for the moment.

…

Bridgette Cheng did not regret her decision to give away her children. She did however, realize that she should’ve reached out to Bruce Wayne first and given him the chance. She tried to tell herself that she did the best she could with the information she was given. Still, the guilt was eating away at her.

It started out as a nagging feeling, a slight anxiety that she could reason herself out of. She had others things to deal with. It wasn’t until it was announced Bruce Wayne would be taking in a child to raise that Bridgette became unable to reason her way out of the stress. Still, she held out, procrastinating the necessary confrontation. Some part of her was worried that the kid might have just been a publicity stunt. It wasn’t like he needed it, he was forever beloved by the city. But the precious Brucie Wayne kept the kid out of the media circus enough that no one had been able to get a proper gauge on the situation.

Then he showed up to her event with Dick Grayson in tow, and Bridgette knew in her very core that she had made a grave mistake. The grin on Bruce’s face said everything. Her conversation with him sealed the deal.

She could’ve told him, then and there. Instead, she decided to located her children first, then reach out. In her search, however, she immediately hit a brick wall. The organization who had handled the adoptions had fallen apart a couple months after they handled her case, and their records were destroyed in a final attempt to preserve privacy.

With nothing, no leads, she once again confronted the idea of telling the father. He was more connected than she was, he’d have better luck. Maybe she was a coward for it, but she couldn’t stand the idea of handling it in person. A letter was better than nothing. But it wasn’t never sent.

At the post office, she met a strange man who claimed to have the answers she was looking for. Against her better judgement, she followed him and the two had a lengthy conversation.

Two weeks later Bridgette Cheng announced a new project for her company, a line of cutting edge satellites that were set to be released in five years.

Three weeks after that, Bridgette Cheng was found dead in her own home, the death ruled a heart attack, shocking from someone so young.

The letter she wrote remained in the hands of the strange man, along with two other letters he insisted she write.

Bruce Wayne heard of her death and attended the funeral. But he never really knew her, and his life continued as normal. Well, as normal as it could be for a vigilante with a child who wanted nothing more than to go out and beat bad people up, a child who eventually became his sidekick. And time continued on, with Brucie Wayne none the wiser of what was and what almost was.

Chapter Text

Marinette was not new to magic. As the current Guardian of the Miraculous, she was quite skilled at it. She should’ve noticed something was off the second she walked through the door. However, she hadn’t realized how badly the time zone switch would screw up her body. The teen couldn’t remember a time she had felt so exhausted and that was including the incident where she was up for 71 hours due to a combination of homework, Akuma attacks, commissions and general anxiety.

That exhaustion hadn’t settled in her bones the way this one did, because then, she had her mother who would make her tea to get through the day and her father who’d give a hug that would somehow give her a little extra strength to push on.

Once she got her hands on some coffee though, she noticed almost immediately. There was a powerful presence within the cafe that was drawing all of her senses in like a compass needle pulling north.

And that presence was some guy.

Maybe the coffee was getting to her, because all she could see was a teen about her age sat alone in a booth making eye contact with her the way most of the store was. But his look was different. His gaze seemed to poke under her skin and silently say, ‘I see you, and I know you see what I am.’

Or at least that she saw he was something. Because whatever she was looking at, she was sure she had never seen before. The air around him felt like the moment in a horror movie when you’re waiting for a jump scare you know is coming but don’t know when, except the feeling was multiplied by a couple orders of magnitude. Terror, maybe that was a good word for it? Whatever it was, Marinette did not want to be dealing with when she was this exhausted. But as it had proved time and time again, Life did not care what she wanted.

Tentatively, she walked in his direction.

Marinette had never been known to turn away from responsibilities, she threw them onto her plate with reckless abandon threw away a chance of free time and mental stability. And even if this city was only temporary, she had a responsibility to take care of the people in it. She couldn’t exactly go racing around in her bright red suit while trying to stay low, but this? Maybe she could gauge the threat and take care of it before anyone got hurt.

She sat the table next to the booth, facing not completely toward and not completely away from him. She sipped her coffee slowly, trying to get a read on the situation. She stayed there for a while, wondering how to get information, when he spoke up for her.

“There’s probably a better way to put this, but I figure it’s easier to cut straight to the chase, what are you?” His words had a bouncy quality to them and came fast enough that Marinette had to take a moment to decipher.

“What?”

He nodded his head slowly. “Yeah, not from around here, picked up on that. The accent is a little thick. But girl, you’ve got this kinda,” he gestured to her general area, “weird vibe—weird feeling—around you. So I wanted to know what you were. I don’t like going into situations blind.”

She blinked, but his words finally sunk in.

“Why should I tell you?” Her hands touched her earrings reflexively.

“I was assuming that was why you sat over here, you wanted some kind of information exchange.” Marinette stared at him. “I’m not asking for your whole life story.”

Marinette turned the idea around in her head. She did want information. And the guy in front of her seemed nice, despite what the air around him was screaming. She could be vague. “I’m a magic user.”

He nodded at that. “You seem like a pretty powerful one.”

She shrugged. “And you?”

“Not a magic user. Ever heard of ectoplasm?”

The word almost seemed familiar. Like Master Fu had mentioned it in passing or something like that. Still, she shook her head.

“Well, it’s a powerful type of energy. I’ve spent a lot of time around it.” His eyes flashed a glowing green in a way that Marinette couldn’t tell if it was intentional. But the moment sent a rush of energy through her fingertips that reminded her of the Ladybug transformation. And with it, some of the terror in the air vanished.

She stuck her hand out. “Marinette.” A moment later she realized that wasn’t not the name she was supposed to be going by, but it was too late now. It was hard to remember, she’d have to get better at it.

He looked at her a moment before taking her hand. “Danny,” he said as they shook hands.

Their hands were ripped apart as the building shook with the force of an explosion.

“Ti—” Not in Paris, no transformation. “Take cover!”

She dove under the table, moving her hands to her neck to shield her head. Danny was down there too. When the building stopped shaking, the two of them got up at the same time.

Danny tilted his head in the direction of the back of the shop and she knew exactly what he meant. He took the back half, she took the front, making sure everyone was okay. Only as she was helping a girl with pink hair out from under a broken table did she realize how weird the interaction was. She was used to communicating without words, but that was with Chat Noir who she’d been working with for years, not with strangers.

Once her side was taken care of, she turned to Danny who was finishing a wrap on someone’s forearm. Just as he tightened the knot, one of Gotham’s famous heroes flew in through the window. Red Robin, she remembered. This was why she did research.

“What’s going on?” Danny asked as Red Robin scanned the room for anyone who needed help. But they had already taken care of it, and so, satisfied with the current state of the people of the room, he looked at Danny.

“It’s Two-Face. The building across the street turned 22 years old today. Everyone needs to evacuate through the back and escape the area, but it does seem to be a localized attack.”

The Gothamites around her nodded and started to leave, trusting the hero’s words. He headed out the way he came, off to deal with the next affected building. Soon, Danny and Marinette were the only ones left.

“We should leave, shouldn’t we?” Danny asked her. They should. But Marinette already knew she couldn’t. What if someone was hurt that the Bats didn’t get to? They didn’t have a miraculous reset button here, everything was permanent. What if someone’s parents were in danger? What if she could help?

“We should. But I won’t.”

He laughed. “Yeah, me neither.”

And together the two headed into the smoke filled street, looking for people to help.

Chapter Text

Danny was a lot slower than he was used to being in a crisis. Something something muscles atrophied, something something running on fumes. Either way, it sucked and it was really messing him up.

“You okay, kid?” he said, pulling someone who couldn’t have been more than eight out from under a street sign. The girl’s face was covered in dust interrupted by streaks of tears. As much as Danny was in his element in a crisis, he didn’t miss seeing people hurt. Maybe he missed helping them, but never missed seeing stuff like this.

The girl nodded as Danny checked her up and down for injuries. Her arm was bruised up from where it’d been hit by the pole, but other than that, she looked fine.

“Are you with a parent?” Nod. “Do you know where they are?” Shake. “Alright, come with me.”

He debated just picking her up and running her out of the area. But he didn’t want to freak her out and he was already not performing at top quality anyway. He grabbed her uninjured arm and the two ran off in the opposite direction from the gunshot and various vigilante fighting noises. That he did miss. He hadn’t given a good punch in ages, since before…

Not the time, Danny.

Once he was out of the thick of it, he found a set of middle age parents evacuating with their kids. Making a rushed judgment call and hoping they weren’t somehow human traffickers, he brought the girl to them. “She can’t find her parents.” The couple had a moment of shock before they quickly recovered and started to ask questions, but Danny was already gone back into the battlefield.

As he got his bearings once again, searching for someone to help, he caught the glance of Marinette, who was helping an old woman over debris so she could get somewhere safe. Marinette caught his eye, and they both nodded. It was strange but he knew they were on the same page. And the ease with which she navigated the conflict around him, he could guess that she had either been in war or had some heroing experience. Given her status as a magic user, he was gonna guess the latter. It wasn’t his business though.

He found a middle aged businessy looking man to help out, he had a briefcase and everything, felt like something out of a cartoon. By the time he got back after that, it seemed like everyone had pretty much cleared out. Except for Marinette who showed back up momentarily after him, finished with the old lady.

“Now what?” he said.

Both of them stood there listening to the sounds of goons and Bats fighting in the distance. Where they stood was oddly quiet. “Well, there’s two choices,” Marinette said, looking out.

“The Bats will definitely be fine without us,” Danny said, “but there’s not much else for us to do if we’re not going to dive into the fight.”

“I should not, I’m not supposed to.”

“Yeah, neither should I, probably.” Danny never ran from a fight though.

“So, that’s it. We just… leave?”

Danny shrugged, “I really don’t want to be on Batman’s radar.” She nodded in agreement.

He turned to look out away from the chaos. Moments later, he turned back to look at the chaos where Marinette was already staring.

“That decides it I guess,” he said, and they both dashed forward into the conflict.

Marinette was ripping off a sleeve that got damaged sometime earlier to tie around her face in a makeshift mask. That seemed smart. But he was wearing short sleeves so he was kind of already screwed. Oh well. Consequences of preventable actions could be dealt with later.

The first punch to hit some goon in the shoulder, mid-bullet-dodge, full him with such a rush of adrenaline, he forgot why he had even been worried about getting involved. Ghosts liked to fight. Brawling was a love language. And he had gone too long without it. Like gasping for fresh air after a long time underwater.

He and Marinette stayed away from where the Bats were confronting Two-Face and instead dealt with the outskirts. Batman definitely noticed them though, he was Batman after all. But he had his hands full already and let them be.

Fighting low-level goons was nothing like going after ghosts. He had to hold back quite a lot when he was fighting. It felt more like a warmup than everything. If only he’d been more put together when they escaped the GIW. It would’ve felt so good to land some hits on them.

It was probably a good thing he didn’t get to. He wouldn’t have been able to hold himself back.

As easy as they were to take down, it did feel like there was a near endless supply coming after them. He’d take someone out on the left and before they hit the ground, someone would already be there on the right. Most of them did a double-take before taking a hit, which was plenty of time for him to get them out of the way. They probably weren’t used to fighting non-brightly dressed teenagers.

Batman finally took Two-Face down. The man’s gimmick was the number two, he couldn’t have been that hard to deal with.

Once the henchpeople saw their boss was down for the count, they started retreating. That was a good sign that he and Marinette needed to get the heck out of there. Or talk to Batman which would suck.

Speak of the devil.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

All of Danny’s lying experience, don’t fail him now. “Ummmm, we’re just good samaritans?” His voice was at least five pitches too high. What? Batman was intimidating.

“We were helping,” Marinette added.

“I don’t need help. And that doesn’t answer my first question.”

“Look. I’m Sam. And this is… also Sam. We just wanted to help.” Coming up with names on the spot was hard.

“Sure you are. Want to tell me your real names? You both clearly have experience. You’re clearly not with the League. What are you both doing in Gotham?”

“The League? The League of Assassins?” Marinette asked.

“The League of what now?  You know what, not important.”

“No, it is important. Something is happening in the League of Assassins, Talia said something bad is happening.”

Batman’s lip tightened even so slightly, Danny wouldn’t have noticed it, except for the fact that he did it too.

“Well, Sam, I think it’s time to go.” Danny grabbed her arm and Marinette jerked like she forgot he was there. She nodded all the same, giving Danny permission to get them out. “Yep, you told me you had that thing. We gotta go or you’ll miss it.”

“Wait. You can’t just leave.”

In an instant they were invisible and intangible, which was a good call because Batman dived for them the moment they vanished.

Danny’s chest hurt. That wasn’t good. Man this sucked. Why couldn’t he just be healed by now? It had been a couple days. He didn’t have much more patience.

Instead of flying and possibly aggravating whatever started hurting, he pulled Marinette along with him, running straight through buildings until they found a mostly abandoned one. He dropped the intangibility and invisibility and stared at Marinette who was looking at him.

It wasn’t in fear or disgust which was nice. It was a brief curiosity that quickly became acceptance. She definitely had experience with weird if this didn’t even phase here.

“You alright?”

“Yes, I am fine. Thanks for that. I should not have said anything to him. I am supposed to avoid attention, but I failed at that.” She looked like she was about to cry, with tears pooling in her eyes as she stared at the ground and her hands balled into fists.

“Hey, it’s okay. Yeah that probably wasn’t great, but it’ll be fine. I can help us both stay under the radar.”

“Really?” She looked up at him now.

“Course. Us Sams need to stick together. Now, where do you live?” This would be fine. One person knowing about him wasn’t the end of the world.

“In Park Row. I think they call it Crime Alley.”
She seemed better already.

“What a coincidence, so do I.”

Chapter Text

Adrien paced the perimeter of his cell for the 124th time today. Given his rough estimates the room was 2 meters by 2 meters, that meant he’d walked, 32, 192...992 meters today. One more lap and it’d be a kilometer. This was kill-ometer-ing him. Yeah, that was kind of a pun. He hadn’t lost his touch yet.
 
He’d lost quite a lot of other things though.
 
His mom. His miraculous. His freedom. Maybe his sanity.

His dad, if he ever really had one.

He could still remember the moment Hawkmoth’s miraculous was removed and all that was left standing there was his father. And rather than being shocked, everything suddenly snapped into place and he wondered why he never saw it before.

Ladybug, his Marinette, had suggested it before. He didn’t believe her then but he should have. He should have known. He lived with a monster for years and never noticed. How could he have ever been so blind?

Therapist. What did his therapist say about these moments? It wasn’t his fault. Of course it wasn’t his fault. He barely saw his father in the first place, he was a secretive man to begin with, he was purposefully hiding it. No person wants to believe that about their father. And yet, he should have.

He should’ve seen it. But even he couldn’t blame himself for not seeing the current turn of events.

1032 meters.

He played it again in his head. Assassins breaking into the hotel room he had been stuck in for weeks. Dressed in all black, stereotypical assassins. And when he went to call for Plagg, his ring wasn’t there. They had already stolen it, earlier in the day and he hadn’t even realized it. Like an idiot. Bag over his head, drugs in his arm, in and out for so long. Finally coming to with his father looming over him.

Walls. Four walls and a locked door with a door for food. Near darkness. Walls that wouldn’t budge and a ceiling that seemed to sink lower and lower every time he looked at it. Ready to crush him in his sleep and—

Breathe, a voice said. It was Marinette’s voice, it was always Marinette’s voice. His Marinette. He had to stay strong for her. She was all alone out there too.

Talia had told him what happened to Marinette’s parents. He couldn’t quite believe it still. The Dupain-Cheng’s had been a light in the darkness for him after his father’s… everything. They had held him while he cried, supported his and Marinette’s new relationship, been the parents he hadn’t had for so long. Late at night, he had hoped that one day they’d really be his parents, legally and all, if Marinette would have him. He’d ask Mr. Dupain for his permission and he’d play the tough guy, but Adrien had already seen how he’d cooed at babies in strollers and wouldn’t be intimidated. And he’d say yes and then she’d say yes and… none of that could happen now.

People kept dying around him.

Some small deep dark part of him wished his father would join the growing number. So he could finally be free from him. So he would get what he deserved for everything he had done. But his father was doing wonderfully. The few times he had seen him, he looked more alive than ever with Adrien’s Miraculous around his finger. The thought of it caused bile to rise in his throat. He swallowed it all back down. He couldn’t throw up in here. They wouldn’t clean it and he’d be sitting in it for who knows how long. Until Marinette saved him or…

He thought about dying often now. It seemed appropriate being locked up with professional killers. Why they kept him alive, he wasn’t quite sure. Maybe his father, that was the only logical answer. He’d be shocked his father cared so much, especially after Adrien’s identity was revealed. It still only felt like a matter of time until they decided he wasn’t worth the cell any longer.

Death felt so close, he could reach out and touch it. He imagined it slinking around in the darkness, just barely out of the life. Sometimes he’d talk to it, ask how much longer he had. It would mumble something under its breath that sounded like an omen or a prophecy but Adrien could never make out the words. Trying to could drive a person mad. But he kept trying because there was nothing else to do.

“Adrien…” a voice called to him. He couldn’t quite make out where it was coming from. It was so faint. Barely real. Maybe it wasn’t real, maybe it was like the other time when he talked to his mom. She was dead, he remembered her closed lids from her glass coffin. Still, it had seemed so real.

Eventually the voice went away. Maybe Death had been calling him, letting him know it was time to join. Adrien wouldn’t accept the offer though. He was waiting for Marinette, his powerful, beautiful Marinette who would come bursting in to save him and minute now. It couldn’t be much longer…

Holding onto a thought, holding onto time was hard in the box. He had to stay positive. He had spent plenty of time alone before, he could do it. He had hated all the seconds spent in silence before this darkness though. If only he could hold on a little longer…

“Leave us,” a voice said. The voice from earlier. He couldn’t imagine what us they could be referring to. That was until the cell door opened up and he saw the ever present guards slink away down the hall and the source of the voice enter his tiny space.

Who cared what she was doing here, it was a living person who seemed real enough. Adrien almost started crying.

“Adrien. Marinette has made it to Gotham.” With the mention of the love of his life, he finally put together who it was in front of him. Talia. The one who had promised to help stop whatever plans were being made, promised to protect Marinette and promised he wouldn’t be stuck here forever. He had to hold onto that a little longer it seemed. “She’s settling in from what I hear. Her parents have been laid to rest.”

Adrien nodded but it took a minute for him to put meaning behind the words. Marinette was safe. And in Gotham. Gotham. There was something about Gotham he should’ve remembered, but it was just slipping his memory.

“Good.” The word tasted sour on his tongue. It had been so long since he had talked to another person. “Gotham…” He kept chasing the train of thought but it ran away from him once again.

“She will be safe. Anything that happens, she can handle herself. And if something comes that she can’t handle, I know Batman. He can look out for her. The Dark Knight will not fail her. It is truly the best place for her now, the one place my father’s men cannot touch.”

“Father…” Adrien batted away the normal associations with the word, the anger, the betrayal, the suffocation. There was something he needed to know. “Marinette’s father…”

“Yes, both of her parents have been given a proper burial.” Talia stared at him with worry, not shock, he had been alone for so long, but worry nonetheless.

“No. Marinette’s biological family is supposedly from Gotham! She told me so long ago. She’s never met them. She doesn’t even know her parents’ names. But she was told she came from Gotham.”

Talia looked off in the distance for a moment before snapping back to him. “She does look so much like… well, I’m not sure. Either way, I can look into it. Maybe they could help her. Or maybe not, who knows what kind of people they are. But I can still find out the information. Thank you for telling me this.”

Adrien nodded, glad he was able to hold on to something.

“So now what?”

Talia looked him up and down. “Now, I take you to your new room.”

Tears welled in Adrien’s eyes before he even processed what she said. “New room?”

“Our fathers wanted to make sure they knew you would behave and figured solitary would be the best to keep you in line. Don’t get too happy, know that they will do this again if you step out of line. I’d advise being very careful.”

Adrien nodded his head vigorously, planning to never find his way back to that room however he could help it. Talia took his arm in hers and walked him out of that horrible, horrible place.