Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Content Warning: While this story is mostly fluffy, there are a few dark elements mentioned or alluded to, including child abuse, death of a child, and basically everything else the Joker does. This is mostly due to many Batfamily members having tragedy as background elements, but I felt a warning was warranted just in case. 

Private Jet, Mid-Atlantic

Marinette squirmed, trying once again to settle into her plush leather seat. It wasn't the chair's fault really, if anything it was ludicrously comfortable, but rather her inner turmoil making her fidgety. 

In her opinion you could hardly blame her; her life has changed so drastically and rapidly in the last three weeks that she had whiplash just trying to keep up. Everything had been a steady cycle before then, a terrible cycle but a consistent one. Wake up, endure school, fight Akuma, sneak back to bed, and go to sleep. Granted there had been a slight change to that last part since Maman and Papa Tom and Sabine had thrown her out six months ago.

She hadn’t been close with her foster parents as long as she could remember, but their relationship took a sharp nosedive after Lila Rossi walked into her life. Honestly the thing that infuriated her the most about Lila’s lies wasn’t the girl herself, but rather the sheer idiocy the majority of people in her life displayed in believing them without any investigation. Well, she shouldn’t be terribly surprised her former parents didn’t bother to look into Lila’s claims carefully, they’d grown bored of having a child fairly soon after they got her but found they were stuck with her. If anything, Marinette suspected they were glad Lila gave them a somewhat socially acceptable excuse to be rid of her.

She did her best not to feel hurt by their callous disregard, but sue her, she was thirteen and being tossed aside by the only parents you’ve ever known, however inadequate, hurt. However, emotional turmoil aside, being kicked out presented an even more immediate practical problem; it was going to be much harder to moonlight as Lady Noire while living in a group home. 

So, considering the safety of Paris rested on her back, she’d absconded from the home the first evening and had been stealthily staying with the last friend she had, Chloe. Luckily Chloe’s father was rarely home, so she was able to sneak in and stay with her friend at night. If anything, her vagabond lifestyle had been a relief, as she no longer had to see Lila and her cronies everyday. 

It was funny to think that a year ago she thought of Chloe as an enemy, and Alya as a friend, but time had shown the reverse to be the truth. Chloe had a tough exterior but a loyal heart, whilst Alya was nice but apparently incredibly fickle and oh so stupid. It boggled Marinette’s mind that Alya bought into Lila’s claims of friendship with Bugboy and Lady Noire, when Alya had met both heroes herself.

Oh yeah, that was another thing she wouldn’t have expected a year ago, being a superhero. She still remembered the day, a little after her twelfth birthday, when Master Fu presented her with the Cat Miraculous and named her the avatar of destruction. She’d been a bit depressed about that at first, but had come to realize that destruction was a necessary part of balancing the cosmos. Creation unchecked was rot, choking weeds, cancer. Plus, Plagg was adorable once you got to know him. 

In general she enjoyed her life as Lady Noire; she felt like she was doing actual good for the people of Paris in a way she couldn’t in her civilian life, plus something about leaping across rooftops in the night just felt right to her. The only problem that arose was her partner, Bugboy, AKA Adrien.

She didn’t think Adrien was a bad person necessarily, but the attitude he had, treating everything like a game, irked her to no end in the field. She suspected that having a reset button on hand for the worst of the Akuma’s damage had given him a dangerous habit of acting sloppy. This was exemplified by his total willingness to just fight Akuma after Akuma without making any serious effort to track down the source, Hawkmoth.

Then again, she shouldn’t be surprised by his lack of prowess as a detective. She was still embarrassed over the month she spent thinking they’d both deduced the other’s identity only to realize he wasn’t just playing dumb. Still, even if he had been a semi-reliable partner over the last year in costume, when she discovered five weeks ago that Hawkmoth was in fact Adrien’s father, she wasn’t confident she could rely on him to fight him. 

So, with Chloe’s assistance, she had done something a little crazy, and finally managed to call in outside help. They’d tried before, but between the Peacock Miraculous mystically deflecting attention from the city, and the bribes paid to keep the Akuma’s out of the media, they’d had a hard time of it. The Justice League didn’t exactly have a public direct line, and she imagined without proof, a call from a preteen about crazy monsters in Paris probably just got tossed in the pile of crank calls.

After consulting with Fu, she realized that the Peacock’s power of misdirection only applied to the Miraculous and their effects; so, she would need to create an event totally separate from Lady Noire, or the Akumas that would draw the attention of a Leaguer, and, well, only one Leaguer had a publicly known signal. She’d cashed in her favor with Jagged Stone (who she actually knew, Lila!) and set up a veritable laser bank of powerful spotlights one foggy night, and cast a massive Batsignal across the sky of Paris. 

While she was hopeful her scheme would at least get the Justice League to start seriously investigating Paris, she was not expecting an ice wielding Akuma to be knocked out with a batarang and trussed up in the Lasso of Truth the very next day. She was overjoyed to have the assistance of both Wonder Woman and the Batman, even if Adrien had petulantly shuffled off, upset at being ‘upstaged’. 

To say dealing with the foreign heroes, both of whom spoke excellent French, was a breath of fresh air would be an understatement. After the trouble she’d had with her teachers, the mayor, and Tom and Sabine, it was refreshing to have adults who actually heard her out and believed her. She quickly outlined the battles they’d been facing through the last year, along with her evidence that Gabriel Argeste was behind it all.

For their part Wonder Woman explained that after seeing the Bat Signal, she accompanied Batman due to her familiarity with the city. They planned to stay and help her tackle Argeste, while another leaguer, Zatanna, worked on bringing down the magic that isolated Paris from the rest of the world. 

Well long story short, by the end of the week Lady Noire and the two Leaguers had arrested Gabriel Argeste, along with a small horde of accomplices. Adrien hadn’t joined in the final battle, Batman agreed with Marinette’s assessment that he would likely be too compromised. Fu had collected the stolen Miraculouses and Wonder Woman’s mother, a former wielder of the Miraculous, had offered Themyscira as a more secure location to keep them.

Well, most of them, as true avatars of destruction and creation, Lady Noire and Bugboy would both keep theirs until they passed. Marinette was low key ecstatic about that, even without constant Akuma attacks, being Lady Noire made her feel like she had a purpose, like she was useful. Plus after her civilian life had turned into a veritable disaster zone, she spent more time in costume than out of it. She fully intended to continue to use her abilities to fight conventional crime in Paris, while staying one step ahead of child services until she came of age.

However the day of the final battle with Hawkmoth brought two major snags to that plan. Firstly, apparently Batman had trailed her back from their first meeting and investigated her situation. Apparently he wasn’t happy with her plan and insisted that after the battle he would help her find a better living situation. Luckily for her, the man wasn’t called the world’s greatest detective for nothing, he’d actually investigated the reason she was thrown out of the Dupain-Cheng household in the first place and discovered how easily her former guardians had allowed themselves to be manipulated by Rossi. So she wouldn’t be being tossed into a state home for troubled youth at least.

The second snag happened during the final battle itself; Hawkmoth had overloaded his powers and akumatized dozens of people at once to serve as his troops. Included amongst their number was an Akuma upset at his biological mother, called Bloodson, who channeled a lightning that when it struck a person would also hurt all of their direct blood relations. Mainette had taken point on him, figuring at least no one else would be hurt if she got tagged by the Akuma, only to be shocked when the Dark Knight doubled over in pain the instant the lightning hit her torso. 

At the time they’d just shared a look but after the battle Batman sat her down for the most awkward talk of her life. They’d done a rushed paternity test to confirm what the magic had revealed and once it was confirmed, Batman revealed himself to be billionaire Bruce Wayne, the man who was apparently her biological father. She’d wanted to be angry at him, for abandoning her, for leaving her to grow up with the absent and withholding Dupain-Chengs, but mostly she just felt lost and overwhelmed. It almost hurt how nice Bruce was to her, because if he was that nice, where was he her entire life?

Still, she liked to think she was a level headed person, so she tried to remain calm and hear him out as they sat awkwardly on the roof of a Paris bookstore. Besides, even with her enhanced abilities, she doubted she could outrun the Batman. Bruce explained that the DNA results showed that her mother was someone named Talia Al Guhl, and that based on her DNA and her age she had a twin brother, Damian. Apparently her mom, who was already in the running to overtake Sabine for worst mother in Marinette’s life, had kept her pregnancy secret from Bruce and he’d only found out about and gotten custody of Damian three years ago. Marinette was privately not that upset that Bloodson’s attack had likely hurt her as well. 

Marinette suspected there was a larger story there, but conceded that if her mother had concealed one child she may have concealed another. Although, it did little to explain why she’d been left in Paris, rather than raised by Talia like Damian apparently was. It still left her feeling pretty abandoned, even if it hadn’t been intentional on Bruce’s part. That was probably why she’d been so shocked when Bruce invited her to come live with him; it had been a long time in her life since she felt wanted by someone. She’d always felt more like a burden to Tom and Sabine, something they had gotten saddled with rather than someone loved. 

For all she knew Bruce was only making the offer to avoid a scandal; that seemed like a billionaire type thing. However, after the ruinous year she’d had, the prospect of leaving Paris actually held a lot of appeal. Plus Batman had been nothing but helpful since he’d shown up in Paris, and maybe he’d be similar as Bruce. 

So, that’s how she’d found herself three weeks later sitting across from Bruce Wayne, on his private jet, making their way to the States. She was a bit amazed, and a little scared, how fast the Wayne lawyers were able to both shut down the juvenile charges against her and win custody for Bruce. Her departure had been bittersweet, there was a lot about her old home she wouldn’t miss, but it was her home and the place she’d defended all the same. She’d especially miss Chloe, who’d been the only one to come and see her off. They’d agreed to stay in contact constantly but it didn’t change the fact she was basically leaving her only friend in the world behind for an unknown country.

“Nervous about flying” Bruce’s voice cut through her ruminations. She looked up to see blue eyes shining with awkward concern; neither of them really knew how to act with each other yet. They’d gone from strangers, to allies, to apparently father and daughter in very rapid succession. 

“Uh, not really, I haven’t really flown before but it’s nice so far.” Marinette answered a bit lamely “I guess I’m just stressing about the new country is all. My English isn’t perfect, and it's just a big change…” she trailed off guiltily. Bruce was taking her in, she didn’t want to act ungrateful or cause trouble right away. Kids who caused a bother weren’t wanted for long.

She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder as Bruce leaned forward to lock eyes with her. “It’s okay to be nervous, Marinette. I realize this is a massive change for you and you haven’t had the best experiences with family, but I promise you it’s going to be okay. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be there for you for the first thirteen years.” Bruce’s eyes were wet and Marinette just felt bad for making the man feel guilty. Bruce continued “Gotham can be a new start, and I promise you your new family is going to be nothing like your old one.”

Family, that’s right she wasn’t an only child anymore, she had a brother apparently. It’d be odd going from being a single child to one of a pair but she was eager to meet the twin she’d never known. Maybe Bruce was right, maybe the three of them could have a better kind of family. Maybe.

“What’s he like?” She blurted out as Bruce leaned back into his own chair.

“Who?”

“My brother.”

“Which one?”

Which one? There was more than one? She hadn’t thought about it, but it was totally possible that Bruce had other children besides her and Damian, maybe even a spouse. She really should have borrowed Chloe’s computer to google Bruce before they left. Marinette gulped slightly at that thought; Bruce seemed to like her okay, but a wife and kids might see her as an interloper or worse an unwanted reminder of a past infidelity.

“Uh, I meant Damian but now that you mention it, how many children do you have, sir?”

She took a deep breath, she could do this. Just be polite and stay out of the way, besides if Bruce already had two or three kids maybe it would make it less awkward to add a new young person to the house.

Bruce smiled slightly as he replied “You make it an even twelve.”

Marinette promptly did an honest to kwami spit take.

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Earlier, Wayne Manor, Gotham

Stephanie Wayne was nervous as she scurried into the family living room. Her mom had called a family meeting that afternoon via the Batfamily group text which was already unusual; usually if she had an announcement, she’d just wait to tell everyone at a family dinner. What made it especially odd was that it wasn’t just for the family that lived in the manor, Dick, Jason, Barbara and all of her aunts and cousins had been called in too. 

The main source of the worry that threatened to make her toss her morning waffles as they churned her stomach, was that her dad was gone on an international league mission. Now, her dad was tough as nails, he was the goddamn Batman, but the tiny voice in her head that whispered that things were too good to be true ever since she’d been adopted was insistent that the other shoe was going to drop. The voice sounded a lot like her biological father, the Cluemaster, and she’d worked hard in therapy to tell herself that she did deserve good things in life but sometimes it could creep in. Like today.

So Steph curled up on the couch and snuggled into Cass’s, her sister’s side for comfort. Cass slung her arm over Stephanie and patted her gently. Then again, Cass was gentle in everything she did when she wasn’t on the job. In Stephanie’s opinion she was all the way up at number four when it came to giving hugs, only trailing her parents and Dick. Cass gently sitting with her when she’d woken up with nightmares a few weeks after moving into the manor had been what let her realize she finally had a home.

She knew she was being silly, if something had gone sideways on the mission her mom and probably some of her siblings would have already rushed in to help, but the rumbling in her stomach remained as the family slowly shuffled into the large room one by one. Tim joined his other two triplets, none of them were biologically related but they were all 16 and born in the same month, so the nickname stuck, on the couch, nursing his usual thermos of coffee.  He gave Steph a quick fist bump before pulling out his tablet, likely to review whatever case he was currently working on. Tim had been Steph’s best friend even before he was her brother and always had a calming effect on her.

Barbara wheeled in next, chatting with Dinah. Black Canary had been added to the family chat after Barbara proposed the previous month. The other blonde was clearly still a bit nervous about being included in Wayne family business, so Steph shot her a friendly smile; pretty much every member of the family had felt like an outsider at first, so they went out of their way to make sure the others felt included.

Her younger sister Harper plopped down on the other side of Cass. The blue headed girl busily tapped away on her Switch; she was determined to finally beat Duke the next time the family had a smash tourney.

Speaking of Duke, he was next, the only one besides Helena who was really fully awake at noon on a Saturday, since he was used to taking the day shift. His nose was deep in a book, likely lent to him by Jason, as he snagged one of the armchairs. Jason himself, clad in his usual leather jacket, was quick on his heels, and, even though he tried to mask it with indifference, Steph could tell he was nervous too. They were both from the rough side of Gotham, they knew to expect bad news.

Damian strolled in next with Alfred, cat edition, looking like the littlest Bond villain as he imperiously petted the cat. Damian had softened a lot in the last three years, he’d gone from the bane of Steph’s, and really most of the family minus Dick’s, existence to an adorable kid she was proud to call her brother. 

Steph heard the door ring along with the distant reprimand as Carrie beat Alfred, butler edition, to answer it. Moments later her red haired little sister came barreling into the room, dragging her Aunt Kate behind her. Auntie Diana was on the same mission as Steph’s dad, so presumably wouldn’t be joining them. Her cousins, Donna, Bette, and Sandra (Technically they weren’t first cousins since Kate was Bruce’s cousin rather than his sister, but they considered them as such) followed after, apparently deep in conversation, debating who would win the upcoming Grand Chariot Race. Through their connection to Auntie Diana, the female members of the family were semi-frequent visitors to Themyscira, and some of them had become avid followers of Amazon sporting events.  

Kate and her children were followed shortly thereafter by both of Stephanie’s honorary aunts, Harley and Ivy, and the two reformed villains grabbed the loveseat by the fire. While both women had become close with Catwoman in their costumed identities, both had actually been close friends of Bruce’s when he’d briefly attended medical school. Their fall to madness, driven by the Joker and Jason Woodrue respectively, had hurt Bruce exceptionally badly. Luckily, five years ago Bruce, with the assistance of Mr. Terrific and Clark and Kara’s kryptonian technology, had developed cures for their serum induced mania. The recovery period had been trying but both women had turned to heroism and become de facto parts of the family since. 

Her mom, Selina, dressed to the nines as usual, wearing a sleek red summer dress and white heels, arrived, looking at the slim golden watch on her wrist impatiently. With Alfred looking after Helena upstairs, they were only missing the perennially late Dick to begin. After fifteen minutes, her mom looked on the edge of just starting without them, when the grandfather clock swung open and Dick Grayson-Wayne, in civilian clothes but still wearing his Nightwing mask, burst into the room.

“Sorry, sorry, I thought it was a different sort of meeting.” Dick trailed off as he took in his mother’s irate glare and tried to ignore Harley and Jason’s stifled laughter. 

“I did say a Wayne meeting, not a Bat meeting, kitten” Selina Kyle-Wayne purred lowly. She wasn’t seriously mad at her first born, well first adopted, but he was such an easy kitten to tease.

“Sorry Ma, I just read it really fast and then I was driving-”

“Shh, shut up and sit down Big Bird” Jason cut off his older brother’s stammering and pulled him onto a couch by the back of his jacket. Damian tsked and swiftly reached over to remove Dick’s mask. 

Selina sighed before turning to address her family, a slight smile on her face. If you’d told a younger Selina, living rough on the streets of Gotham, that she’d have such a large family she’d have told you to fuck off. Also probably would have robbed you. “Alright, first off, the Bat’s fine. He and Diana wrapped up the Paris mission last night. No need to give yourself more white hairs dear.” Selina teased Jason, who huffed but relaxed slightly. 

“But something unusual did happen in Paris, I’m assuming?” Tim inquired, ever the detective.

“You could say that,” Selina smirked. “Something arose that required your father to operate in Paris as Bruce, so he’ll need to return via conventional travel rather than Zeta.”

“Huh, I wondered why he had me spoof flight logs of him arriving in Paris” Barbara Gordon-Wayne murmured. The first Batgirl had been adopted by Bruce and Selina at fifteen when the Joker had crippled her and killed Jim Gordon in an abandoned amusement park. It was part of the Joker’s final spree, which also included the attempted murder of Jason, the second Robin, in Africa. Jason had ended up in a three month coma, Barbara had ended up in a wheelchair, and Joker had ended up getting the death penalty in Qurac when he used his position as their ambassador to try and poison the United Nations.

“Did we really need a formal family meeting just to update us on father’s travel plans?” Damian asked. 

“No, the long version is a bit complicated and involves some hocus pocus keeping Paris out of the news, but the short version is we all need to prepare for Vicki Vale to crack open the Cheaper by the Dozen jokes” Selina grinned as she watched understanding dawned across the faces of her children. 

“Yeah that tracks.” Tim deadpanned, while Duke begrudgingly handed a twenty dollar bill over to a triumphant Cass. Jason groaned into his hands and Harley cackled. Dick’s smile was radiant; he absolutely loved being a big brother and was doubtless already planning to entice their newest member into countless bonding activities. For her part Steph relaxed; nothing was wrong with her dad, he was just doing what he always did, impulsively adopting orphans.

After the clamor died down, Selina took a seat herself before continuing. “The girl’s name is Marinette; she’s been living rough for the last six months after her foster parents threw her out, apparently,” Selina’s eyes darkened when she referred to Marinette’s previous guardians. “and also coincidentally is the vigilante who set off the giant Bat Signal.”

There were some collective grimaces at Marinette’s living situation. With the exceptions of Dick, Barbara and Duke, pretty much none of the Bats came from a good home life prior to becoming a Wayne.

“Any reason given for casting her out?” Kate inquired in a low voice. 

“None Bruce found satisfactory,” Selina answered grimly. “Evidence suggests they were looking for an excuse to be rid of her and leapt when even the flimsiest one appeared. She’s likely to be fairly fragile, but also a bit prickly from taking care of herself. I’ll trust everyone to bear that in mind.” The various members of the Batfamily all murmured their agreement; several of them had been street kids and knew you had to be patient with getting them to open up. More to the point, pretty much all of them had gone through the darkest times of their lives before Bruce and Selina appeared, so they were uniquely suited to sympathize with Marinette.

“As interesting as all this is,” Damian drawled as he got up to leave, “Father’s penchant for collecting strays is by no means news. I’ll make my judgment on the Parisian’s worthiness to bear our family name upon her arrival.”

Selina had to suppress a smirk, “that actually touches on the other piece of news. Damian, you recall the mysterious electric attack that hit you during patrol a few days ago?”

Damian’s brows furrowed. “Yes, unfortunately my investigation into that has been … less than fruitful.” In truth the youngest vigilante had been driving himself nuts trying to figure out what hit him. He’d been casing the Iceberg Lounge at the time and initially thought the Penguin must have somehow discerned his surveillance setup, but that had proven not to be the case. The attack had been momentarily painful but not debilitating, however his inability to discern its source was disconcerting. He glared slightly at Harper, since he wasn’t totally convinced his sister hadn’t tased him for a prank. After all it took a Bat to trick a Bat.

“Yes well, it seems your father stumbled on the reason for it,” Selina began. Stephanie and Tim both leaned forward in interest, curious what Bruce could have discovered an ocean away. “During the fight in Paris, they encountered an enhanced combatant who’s ability allowed his attacks to simultaneously harm all close blood relatives of the initial target.”

Duke rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “that would explain why Helena woke up crying the same night, I’m guessing Pops got hit during the battle?” Duke’s adoption had been a somewhat more mixed experience for him than his siblings, principally because his birth parents weren’t evil or dead, rather they were in Fear Gas induced comas. For that reason he referred to Bruce and Selina as Pops and Mama, reserving Dad and Mom for his comatose parents. Damian nodded resolutely, pleased to have an answer for the mystery that had been troubling him, and turned to leave.

Selina grinned as she anticipated the reaction. “Actually it was Marinette who was hit, hurting Bruce via the blood connection. A subsequent DNA test was conducted to confirm it and the evidence suggests that she’s Damian’s twin.”

Jason could no longer hold in his laughter and he was soon loudly guffawing, with Harley and Bette giggling along. “Ras and Talia are probably tearing their hair out, trying to figure out who zapped them,” Tim muttered to Cass, Harper and Steph, setting them off chuckling as well. In truth most of the Batfamily were sporting grins; while he’d come a long way since then, they could all recall the days of Damian proudly proclaiming himself the only true Bloodson of the Bat. For his part, Damian instead froze motionless mid-step-

Damian.exe has crashed.  

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A few hours after the family meeting, Harper Wayne was stretched out on her bed, typing away on her laptop. She was reviewing the details of the Paris situation, so she could have a better understanding of where her new sister came from. She’d have to brush up on her French as well. When she’d first moved in Harper’s room had been a triumph of the Manor’s mid century design, lovingly tended by Alfred, but now was undeniably hers. Classic Doctor Who and punk rock posters adorned the walls, and the color scheme was a mix of purple and electric blue. Her desk had a powerful gaming rig and various lego models sat atop nearly every piece of furniture. 

Harper couldn’t help but be a little excited about their impending new sibling. For one, it would mean she wouldn’t be the newest member of the family any more. She wasn’t the youngest, but the fourteen year old had only been adopted a little over a year ago, and she still sometimes felt out of place with the Wayne Clan. She’d thought at first that she’d get lost in the shuffle of the giant family, that Bruce was merely adopting her to facilitate taking her on as a sidekick. Nothing could have been further from reality; she was happy to dispute the idea that Batman didn’t have any superpowers. His superpower was finding time to be there for each of his kids. She still remembered fondly how surprised she was when Bruce showed up to her first robotics team competition, cheering like he was at the Superbowl.

Indeed, between Bruce, Selina and her thousand new siblings Harper had never felt so loved and cherished in her previous twelve and a half years of life. It was overwhelming at times, but usually in a good way. Selena was all she could wish for in a mother, endlessly loving but fierce as a tiger when it came to protecting her brood. Outside the mask Bruce was nothing like the demon the Batman was made out to be. He was someone who understood pain. Someone who would listen, and be a shoulder to cry on. 

She’d bonded quickly with her siblings and cousins as well. She hadn’t thought she’d ever have that bond again after her birth father accidentally went too far with one of his ‘lessons’ and killed her baby brother Cullen. The pain of that never went away, but her new family, and the ability to save others from a similar fate as Bluebird, made it more bearable.

A soft rap on her door frame grabbed Harper’s attention and she looked up to see her mother peeking into her room.

“What’s up, Mom?” Harper inquired.

“I was hoping you could join Stephanie and me in a little shopping expedition to get some things for Marinette’s room,” Selina responded. “Alfred has done his usual excellent job preparing the room across from Cassandra’s but I think it could use a bit of a feminine touch,” Selina smirked as she finished her statement. Alfred’s Edwardian sense of aesthetics was well known to the Batfamily; if they didn’t help, Marinette’s room would likely look like something out of a Jane Austen novel.

“Sure! Cass isn’t coming?” Harper asked as she hopped off her bed, snagging her jacket and purse as she followed her mom out of the room. It probably wasn’t really cold enough to warrant the jacket, but it was the easiest garment to hide her Bluebird tasers in in case of emergencies.

“Your sister has a date apparently,” Selina answered bemusedly. “I think they’re attending the Metropolis Ballet for a matinee performance of Swan Lake.” Cassandra Wayne had been dating Kara Zor-El, better known as Kara Kent for the past six months. Luckily for Cass, Kara was pretty much the only Super the Batfamily universally approved of. (If only because the only other Super Damian liked was Jon.)

“Five bucks we get an impassioned rant about why Gotham has the better ballet troupe over dinner tomorrow,” Stephanie interjected as she joined them at the bottom of the grand staircase. She was wearing a light green dress paired with a light white cardigan and sunglasses. Actually all three Wayne women were donning sunglasses for their excursion; like it or not they were members of the city’s most famous family, and the sunglasses provided at least some protection against paparazzi.

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Shopping as a Wayne was an experience Stephanie couldn’t have conceptualized in her life in Burnley, one of Gotham’s many slums. She had gone from someone people pretended not to see to someone who was openly gawked at. She and Harper were with their mother at Otis's, an upscale boutique, where every customer was attended by a personal shopper and price tags could be astronomical. In truth most of the Wayne clan could care less about fashion in principle, but maintaining their cover identities necessitated keeping up certain appearances. As far as the world knew they were a bunch of rich dilettantes, and rich dilettantes dressed to a certain standard.

They weren’t planning to purchase much here; they’d need to wait for Marinette to arrive to help her buy a new wardrobe. (Selina had been furious when Bruce told her that the poor girl had lost much of her previous one when her foster parents left her with little more than the clothes on her back, and what she could pack in an overnight bag.) They’d mostly stopped in to place their orders for the next upcoming Wayne Gala while they were out. For Marinette they had purchased some comfortable linens and throw pillows, a new sewing machine and fabrics, since Bruce mentioned it was a hobby of hers, and a new set of toiletries. They didn’t want to go overboard, since doubtless the girl would want input in how she decorated the room herself.

They’d also need to get new electronics for Marinette but those would be special ordered from Waynetech, having the customary Wayne firewalls and security systems installed. While they didn’t typically do much Bat business on their civilian laptops, Bruce, Tim and Barbara would have a collective freak out if a member of the family was using an off the rack computer. 

Eventually the trio made their way to The Coiled Spring, a trendy new restaurant located in the affluent Crest Hill neighborhood of Gotham. The lunch served a dual purpose, it was both incredibly delicious and located in a place that gave excellent sight lines for the main office of Olympus Enterprises. The new business was ostensibly an accounting firm, but Barbara had discovered evidence that it was actually a front for Maxie Zeus’s newest operation, laundering money from his tomb raiding and artifact trading operations. Tonight Selina and Harper would be breaking in to collect some physical evidence and try to figure out where the stolen museum pieces were being kept, so they were using their lunch as an opportunity to scout their entry points;  the Bats liked to multitask.

Stephanie wouldn’t be joining them as she was currently working a human trafficking case with Jason down by the docks. While each of the vigilantes had primary areas of operations (ie Batgirl in Burnley and Red Bat in the Bowery), they made sure to vary up who worked with who and where to avoid letting the criminal element know their patterns. Despite appearances to the contrary the Bats did actually need to sleep from time to time, but they made sure to never take a consistent night off so that no one would realize when a particular Bat wasn’t in the field.

So, after finishing her crepe, she skimmed her various phone chats while Harper and Selina carried on a fake conversation, all the while noting security flaws across the street. She shot off a quick message to Young Justice, the hero team she, Cass and Tim were a part of, that they would be unavailable outside of emergencies for a few weeks. Luckily the Bat’s reputation for mysteriousness meant she didn’t have to elaborate any further.

Steph wanted to clear her schedule as much as she could for when Marinette arrived; if the girl was anything like she’d been when she first moved in, she’d need all the support she could get to get back on her feet. That said, suddenly being immersed into the wider world of superheroes could be overwhelming so they’d ease her into meeting the various teams the Bats worked with.

‘ Honestly I’m glad for the excuse to skip out on meetings for a while. Won’t have to deal with that jerk, Jaime’ Stephanie mused to herself. While she figured the team wouldn’t get much done besides goofing off, particularly since Bart and Conner would be de facto in charge, YJ had been awkward for her since she and Blue Beetle broke up. She shook her head rapidly and forced herself to think about something else. She idly wondered what Marinette’s vigilante name was, if she already had one. There was already a betting pool amongst her siblings over whether she’d be a bird or a bat with her moniker. Selina had been quite distraught at that, since she dearly wanted at least one of her children to use her cat theme. Carrie was planning to as Stray, but she wouldn’t be cleared for the field for two more years. 

Stephanie's phone beeped and she smiled broadly when she saw the picture from the news alert. Zatanna had managed to break the magical bubble deflecting attention from Paris and images of Akuma fights were flooding the internet. She focused on a picture of, presumably, her new sister, clad all in black and swinging a staff down in a furious arc.

‘ Guess Mom got her wish. She’s definitely a Cat.’

Chapter Text

JLA Watchtower 

Monitor duty was easily the worst part of being in the Justice League. You sat staring at screens in the Monitor Womb, a dizzying combination of White Martian, Kryptonian and Earth technology, just waiting for something to actually happen. It seemed to stretch on forever, especially when you could break the speed of sound in your sneakers.

Wally West, AKA The Flash, had drawn the short straw today and it would be another hour before Hawkwoman relieved him. Wally had taken up the mantle of Flash after his Uncle Barry’s death several years ago, and he still felt like a kid wearing his father’s suit sometimes. He still wasn’t entirely used to working with the JLA in the same way he had been with the Titans. Most of the senior Titans had been offered positions on the League but only he had become an active member, or in other words he was the only kid at the adult’s table.

‘Well, not the only kid’ Wally mused as his pal Kyle Rayner, one of several earth based Green Lanterns, floated into the room. Somehow, in a group that also included Simon Baz, Hal Jordan, and Guy freaking Gardner, Kyle was known as the immature Lantern. Kyle looked perplexed as he addressed Wally. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Wally responded, taking a microsecond to check that he hadn’t accidentally set off a League alert.

“I got a message from Hal about a Code: Demonspawn. That’s not a GL code, and I didn’t think it was a JLA code either, but I figured I should report anyway.”

Wally’s response was cut off by the Zeta Tube announcing the arrival of several of their JLA colleagues. Aquaman, the King of Atlantis, J’onn J’ones, the Martian Manhunter, and Plastic Man hurried in, all three of them checking their respective communication devices.

“Green Lantern sent out a most perplexing alert. What is the situation?” J’onn inquired. 

Wally rapidly checked all of the scanners three more times at superspeed. He was beginning to get paranoid he’d somehow missed something. After discovering Paris had been mystically tormented for around a year without the League catching it, he didn’t want to be the one who dropped the ball again. “Not sure, Kyle got the same alert but I don’t have anything on the Monitor Womb.”

“Perhaps the threat is interstellar in origin?”  Arthur mused, “Is Hal currently off-world?”

Kyle scratched the back of his head, “I don’t think so? The current rotation has me, Hal and Jess here on Earth, with John, Simon and Guy stationed on Oa. It’s possible the Guardians called him in for something, but you’d think they would have told me.” Kyle ended his statement a bit dejectedly, as the only one of the Lanterns not formally chosen by the Corps at first, the Guardians were often a bit dismissive of him compared to the other Lanterns.

Their musing was interrupted by the Zeta once again whirling to life. Wonder Woman, Green Arrow and Superman then rushed into the room, looking ready for business.

“We got Hal’s alert, what’s the situation?” Wonder Woman asked urgently.

“And any idea why he sent it as a group chat rather than a communicator alert?” Superman added.

Wally threw his hands up in frustration, “I’ve got no clue! There’s absolutely nothing on the monitors; I swear this is as peaceful as earth’s been in years. Arthur’s right it must be space based.”

J’onn nodded before proceeding to direct the assembled leaguers. “We should work based on that assumption for the moment. However it’s also possible our equipment has become compromised, which would explain why Hal contacted us using civilian means. Arrow, Diana, Arthur, take the Javelin to intercept position. Kal, Wally, Zeta down to earth and do a manual search for any trouble the monitors aren’t detecting. Kyle, try to get in contact with Oa to see if this is a Lantern problem. Plastic Man, alert Batwoman and-”

J’onn’s commands were cut off by the Zeta activating once more to reveal the source of the panic himself, Hal Jordan. 

“Guys it’s happening again! Break out the garlic, whittle the stakes. We’re running out of time!” The Green Lantern seemed frantic as he flew into the room, clutching a crucifix.

“What’s the situation?” J’onn asked.

“Spooky put in for two months of leave, not to be called for anything except world ending emergencies. Two months!”

That explanation caused the rest of the assembled league to pause in confusion. They knew Spooky was a nickname for Batman, but were unsure why him taking a leave of absence would be cause for such alarm.

“Why is that an issue?” Arthur demanded as he crossed his arms imperiously, a bit annoyed to be called away from Atlantis for this. “The League is more than capable even without Batman.”

“No, don’t you understand! Every time he does this he comes back with another mini-spooky! I can’t take anymore; Robin literally attacks me with a katana every time he sees me and the last one tased me for taking the last cherry soda from the commissary!” The tension deflated from the room as they realized this was simply Jordan’s hyperbolic distress about the Batfamily. For a man supposedly without fear, he seemed to have plenty of it where Bruce and his children were concerned. The assembled leaguers were relieved if a little annoyed and Clark was even a bit excited at the news as it meant he’d have a new honorary niece or nephew to meet.

However, one member of the League wasn’t relieved, she was insulted. “Are you saying you have a problem with my nephew and niece?” Diana asked threateningly as she stepped forward towards Hal. One did not demean the family of an Amazon, without experiencing retribution. Hal turned towards her, as if realizing she was there. He immediately began fumbling out excuses.

“Oh, Diana, hi. I, uh, didn’t realize you were on that particular thread…” As he spoke he edged back towards the Zeta, before turning tail and dashing for it, teleporting off the Watchtower. Diana groaned and put her head in her hand, Lanterns were the worst.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Jet, Present, Nearing Gotham 

Marinette was doing her best to not hyperventilate. Bruce was showing her his phone and flicking through pictures of seemingly countless children. Mari desperately tried to commit the names to memory. Barbara, Jason, Tim, Steph- gah she was going to need some sort of cheat sheet just to get through breakfast at this house. 

“These are all your kids?” she asked weakly.

“Well, only Helena, you and Damian by blood. The rest are adopted, although they’re just as much my children.”

Marinette nodded. That made sense, the oldest two boys and the red headed girl looked too old for Bruce to have fathered them. Marinette bit her lip “Why did you adopt so many? Sorry, that’s a terribly rude question.”

Bruce gave her a gentle smile, “No it’s okay to be curious. I suppose it goes back to my own childhood. I lost your grandparents when I was very young and that event shaped a lot of my life. It’s why I started engaging in my nighttime hobby and it’s why I have trouble looking away from a child experiencing a similar pain. That’s the logical reason anyway. If you ask Selina she’d just tell you it was a matter of seeing them and knowing they were meant to be yours.” Bruce finished with a rueful chuckle. 

“So they all became Waynes,” Marinette muttered softly.

“Well, half of them. Dick, Barbara, Jason and Duke hyphenate.”

“Why only those four?” Marinette asked. She herself had had a hyphenated name, Dupain-Cheng, for most of her life up until six months ago. She supposed she was a Wayne now, Marinette Wayne. That’d take some getting used to.

“It’s sort of a matter of where they come from. Their stories are their own to tell you, but suffice to say that before joining the family, Dick, Barbara, Jason and Duke had other families they still wish to honor, while Cassandra, Stephanie, Tim and Harper preferred a clean start. Don’t get me wrong, they're all Waynes regardless, and you should feel free to keep your old name if you prefer.”

Marinette smiled sadly, “Thanks but I don’t really want the reminder of the Dupain-Chengs.” That was a sad thought. There had never been a lot of love in that household, but it had been the only real home she knew. She wasn’t even off the plane yet and she was feeling a little homesick. Not really for Tom or Sabine, but for her friends. She knew Bruce’s lawyers had sent documents demonstrating Lila’s deceptions to her old school as part of getting her record cleared, but Mainette hadn’t had the heart to see any of her old friends before leaving, besides Chloe. Nino had sent a heartfelt text she wanted to respond to but her emotions were still too raw surrounding the former Carapace. She knew Alya was his girlfriend, but keeping silent while Alya and Lila destroyed her reputation hurt and she’d need some time to heal first.

Before long they entered Gotham airspace and the plane touched down at a private airfield just outside the city. Marinette gulped and followed along with Bruce as an official quickly worked through her immigration paperwork. As a child of a U.S citizen she could apply for dual citizenship fairly easily but that would be for another day. Once they exited the airfield, a mustachioed older man and a dark haired youth in a blue jacket were waiting for them by a Rolls Royce. Marinette gulped, there was no turning back now.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Clark Kent and Lois Lane Kent’s Metropolis Condo

Kara Zor-El Kent cuddled contentedly on the sofa with her girlfriend,  Cassandra Wayne, listening to her steady heartbeat. In her four and a half years on earth she hadn’t found another single sound as calming as Cass’ heartbeat and she often tuned into it with her super hearing when she was going to sleep.

“Need to go soon. Sister coming” Cassandra murmured against her shoulder. On another day Kara might have groaned and tried to pull Cass down to get her to stay, but she knew how important today was for Cass. Having grown up in isolation, abused by the person who should have protected her above all else, Cass placed immense value on the family she now had and wouldn’t want to miss her newest sibling’s homecoming.

Kara liked all of Cass’s siblings and likely would have gone along, since she often hung out at the Manor anyway, as did many other young heroes, who were friends with the Bat clan, but the family had decided to try and avoid overwhelming Marinette by only having family there when she arrived.

“You’re a great sister you know that,” Kara mumbled as Cass sprung to her feet with fluid grace. Cass grinned and pointed her thumb towards herself. “Best sister.” Due to being raised without language, Cass often struggled with verbal expression giving her her trademark laconic manner of speech. She often communicated with ASL instead, (Kara and the Wayne family were fluent) since it made more sense to a brain hardwired for body language, but relished the challenge of improving her language skills.

As Cass was gathering up her things to go, one of Kara’s little brothers darted into the room. Technically he was the clone of her cousin, but she typically found it easier to think of her family in terms of their official Earth relationships rather than their Kryptonian ones. After all, it was weird to think of the man who had raised her since she was eleven as her little cousin. Conner Kent, AKA Superboy, looked to be about fifteen, but technically he was only three, having been force grown in a Lexcorp lab. Really the chronologies of the entire Super clan were fairly messed up.

“Have you seen my jacket?” Conner asked while casually lifting the sofa with one hand, while Kara was still on it, to search. Kara was surprised he’d lost track of it since he wore the leather jacket nearly all the time in and out of uniform.

“Mom took it to the dry cleaners, Con,” Kara informed him.

“What, Why?! I need it for the YJ meeting. Tim’s making me run it, since he’s taking that leave of absence or whatever.”

Kara fixed him with a deadpan stare, “because three of the other four people who live in this house also have super senses and your jacket smelled worse than Krypto when it rains. Seriously, the rule about deep cleaning anything you were wearing after you get slimed by a random alien is there for a reason.” Cass giggled, at the gaping Conner, as she slung her purse over her shoulder. She leaned down to give a quick kiss to Kara then headed for the door to make her way to the Metropolis Zeta.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Manor, Early Evening

The moment of Marinette’s arrival was fast approaching. Alfred and Dick, who was chosen to go due to his excellent French from his time touring Europe with Halley’s Circus, had left to pick her and Bruce up from the private airfield they’d be landing at around an hour ago. The Kane branch of the family would be visiting for dinner the next day, but for now only Selina and her children were in the house. The Wayne children were waiting in the drawing room while the sound of Selina’s heels clacking filled the entry hall, as she paced. 

If you looked at her face, Selina Kyle-Wayne would appear totally at ease, but inside she was anxious. She was getting a new kitten today and she desperately wanted it to go well. She knew she shouldn’t be so tense; she’d gone through this before. Of her children, she’d only given birth to Helena, so she was quite familiar with the trials and tribulations of integrating a new adoptee into the pride or colony as the case may be.

Still, having gone through the process before didn’t help to calm her nerves now. Would Mainette like her? Or would she be like Damian had been when he first arrived and resent her for being with Bruce instead of their biological mother. Over time Damian had thawed to her, helped by the pair’s mutual love of animals, but she worried she was about to go through it all over again. She was shaken from her ruminations as the door swung open and Alfred, Dick and Bruce came in.

Marinette stepped into Wayne Manor for the first time, taut as a tightrope; she was nervous to meet Bruce’s family in general, even if Dick seemed nice so far, but particularly his wife, Selina. Mari hadn’t had the best luck with maternal figures in her life, considering Talia abandoned her and Sabine threw her out, and she was worried the trend would continue with Selina. Still, she wasn’t chosen to be a hero for nothing, so she nailed her colors to the mast and forced herself to follow Bruce into the ornate hall where Selina Wayne awaited.

The first thing Marinette noticed about Selina were her clothes. The designer was instantly buzzing with excitement as she took in Selina’s flowing maroon skirt from a famous designer in Italy, white blouse from the high end Avalon line and royal blue heels just put out by an up and coming designer in Hong Kong. Before she could stop herself she blurted out, “Oh my gosh, are those Kit Leung shoes?” 

She slapped her hand to her mouth, embarrassed, and desperately hoped Selina didn’t understand French. This hope proved to be in vain as Selina smirked slightly and responded in the same language. “You have a good eye, kitten. I’m Selina, and I’m very glad to have someone else in the house who understands fashion. I’m afraid your sisters tend not to care about the design of what they wear unless it’s kevlar and leather.”

Marinette cocked her head at Selina’s last comment, “Kevlar and leather? Are they also involved in Bruce’s … hobby?”

Dick chuckled from her side, “Trust me, Mari, it’s more of a family tradition at this point. We’ll show you the Cave after we get you settled in.” Selina put a gentle hand on Marinette’s shoulder and led her towards the drawing room. Mari forced herself to relax and breathe normally; this was going okay, she could do this.

However, directly after she relaxed, Marinette found herself hit by a ginger bullet to the gut as Carrie pounced on her with a hug around her midsection the moment she entered the room. The younger girl was jabbering something in English far too quickly for Marinette to understand.

“I’m sorry… I don’t… Understand, talk too fast” Marinette let out in broken English as she tried to regain the breath Carrie had knocked out of her. Carrie began again slightly slower, but Mari was still getting only every other word.

“Sister… excited…orange juice… accordion music… waffle cone… cats!” Mari wasn’t sure she was understanding that entirely right. (For the rest of this scene, English is in italics while French is not, and German is in bold.

“ Ease up, Carrie. Marinette’s English isn’t great yet.” Dick chided gently, “You’ll have to forgive Carrie, she’s very excited to meet you.” Marinette gently patted Carrie’s head and the girl finally released her.

“We all are,” Tim said as he stepped forward, Cass following next to him. “I’m Tim, and this is Cass.” Cass signed to Tim who translated to French, “She says welcome to the family. Her room is across from yours, so come visit soon.” Marinette nodded back to the taller girl and shook Tim’s offered hand.

“Me Stephanie, Cantaloupes to meet you. Your brother am I, artichoke.” Stephanie said as she pulled Marinette into a gentler hug than Carrie had. Marinette chuckled at her poor command of the French language.

“Apologies, Steph speaks four languages but unfortunately none of them are French,” A giggling Harper added as she hugged Marinette from the other side. “ You just told her you were her brother and it was Cantaloupes to meet her.”

“Why couldn’t she speak German,” Steph grumbled as she stepped back.

“I do actually, at least better than I speak English” Marinette responded and Stephanie lit up at having an avenue to communicate with her new sister. 

“Ooh, wonderful! You should totally come watch Run Lola Run with me! They’re doing a special screening at the Adams Memorial Cinema this weekend, and no one else speaks the language.” Stephanie enthused.

“Uh, sure?” Marinette responded uncertainly, it had been a long while since she’d gone to the movies. She was essentially a fugitive for the last six months, so rarely left Chloe’s room without her mask on and claws out.

The next set of Waynes then approached, with Duke pushing Barbara’s wheelchair while Jason sauntered to the side. Helena, an adorably dimpled four year old girl with dark inky hair and Selina’s emerald eyes, sat in Barbara’s lap, looking curiously up at Marinette. “Good afternoon, Marinette, sorry for bombarding you all at once. I’m Barbara Gordon-Wayne, the eldest. Duke’s the fellow behind me and this little one is named Helena.” Helena perked up at the sound of her own name and she reached her arms out towards Mari.

“ Up!” Luckily Marinette understood that word and had some experience with toddlers from babysitting, so she quickly found herself with a squirming toddler in her arms.

“As you’ve discovered, Helena is actually the one in charge around here. Well, her or Alfred.” Jason snarked. “I’m Jason, the cool one.” The rest of the family that understood French simultaneously snorted at his declaration, causing Jason to scowl slightly.

Marinette was saved from having to comment on that by at least ten communicators simultaneously flaring to life and beeping. "Ventriloquist’s gang is robbing Gotham First National Bank," Tim informed them while turning for the door. "And KGBeast is mounting an assault on Arkham." Barbara finished before wheeling towards the cave.

Selina shot Marinette an apologetic look, "we'll have to continue the meet and greet later. Jason, Dick, you're with us at Arkham. Tim, Cassandra, Stephanie, meet Dinah at the bank heist. Duke, Harper, Damian, you're on reserve."

Before Marinette could blink the crowded room emptied out, leaving her alone with Harper and Helena. Harper shot her an awkward smile, “Welcome to the family.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Harper’s Room

Alfred had come in shortly after the family’s exodus to take Helena for her bedtime. The little girl had been quite cross at being parted from Marinette so soon but eventually was lured away with the promise of helping Alfred prepare shortbread tomorrow. Duke had made his apologies and gone ahead and crashed in his room. He’d had a long run on the daylight shift, fighting and catching King Tut and his new accomplice, Queen Ankesenamun, and was pretty beat by that point. For a crazy bunch of Egyptologists the pair were quite persistent combatants.

So Mari had found herself being led to Harper’s room and was now awkwardly sitting on the girl’s bed while Harper reclined in her desk chair and Carrie lounged in a beanbag. Truth be told, she’d wanted to go out as Lady Noire if there were villains about, but she was still a bit worried about overstepping. So instead she was left fretfully twiddling her thumbs back at the manor.

“Anxious to get out there?” Harper asked knowingly.

“I’m not used to being on the sidelines. Plus I feel bad about keeping you back; I don’t need a babysitter,” Mari admitted. 

“Eh, no worries, we usually keep one or two of us on reserve in case something’s a trap or a diversion,”  Harper replied. “Besides, there’s no way Mom and Dad would let anyone but Jason and Dick tackle an Arkham attack. I wouldn’t mind getting to toss Scarface in the woodchipper again, but sending the triplets plus Dinah might already have been overkill for old Arnold.”

Harper’s answers unfortunately left Marinette with more questions. “Arnold, Scarface? And why wouldn’t Batman let you fight that BKbeast guy?”

“Ah sorry, Arnold Wesker is Ventriloquist's real name and Scarface is his dummy he uses to direct his gang. You’ll pick up on the rogues of Gotham before too long,” Harper answered.

“Wait, he’s an actual ventriloquist? Is the dummy magic or something?” Marinette asked, confused. She could picture some sort of ventriloquist dummy akuma taking control of people like a reverse puppeteer. 

Harper chuckled, “No, he’s just got a bad case of dissociative identity disorder and a bunch of goons who go along with it. As for your second question, it’s not KGBeast Dad’s worried about, even if he’s one of the tougher mercs out there. Any situation that’s even a prospective Arkham breakout is a Code: Black.”

“Code: Black?”

Harper grimaced a bit, “So after the Joker …. Did what he did to Babs and Jason, Mom and Dad set up two new rules for the family. First thing to know is that you need to be thirteen to go in the field, and fifteen to operate alone.” Marinette scrunched up her nose a bit at that; she was her own hero, she didn’t need hand holding. Then again, she was used to working with a partner, and having someone actually reliable to watch her back wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“ What are you guys talking about?” Carrie asked Harper.

“ The frustrations of being benched.”

Carrie threw her hands up and flopped back on the bag, “ At least they let you out in the field at all. Dick was already Robin when he was my age.”

“ And Mom nearly clawed Dad’s eyes out when she found out how old Robin was. You’ve just got a year and a half to go, sis, and you’ll be on the rooftops with the rest of us. Now I’m going to switch back to French, we’re being rude to Marinette,” Harper teased. 

“ I think I got most of that, actually, but thanks for the consideration.” Marinette chimed in. 

“Right, then as Carrie just complained, we’re only allowed to train until we get old enough,” Harper continued. “Then there’s the code system. A Code:Green is something fine for any of us to take on, like a Falcone thug or Riddler. A Code:Yellow is for villains we should retreat from unless there’s more than one of us; that’s guys like Deadshot, Mister Freeze or Two Face. You’ll have the full list downloaded on your Batpad. Presume unidentified non-powered criminals are Code:Green and unidentified metas are Code:Yellow.”

Mari nodded along; that seemed … reasonable. It seemed like Bruce trusted them to handle themselves in most situations but mandated a certain amount of caution. She could work within those parameters; in any event this team already seemed a lot more functional than her old partnership. If she still had access to the other miraculous, she’d feel fairly confident in entrusting them to Batman and his allies.

“And Code:Black?” Mari asked.

“Right, Code:Black is the final level. Well technically it’s the third of four but Joker died before a Code:J could ever happen. Code:Black is retreat and avoid unless Mom, Dad, Dick, Jason, Donna, Bette, or one of our aunties are there. Even then, if they know it’s a Code:Black, Babs or whoever’s running dispatch probably won’t send you towards it. It’s for things like Arkham Breakouts, League level threats and a few particularly nasty Rogues, pretty much just Deathstroke, Hush, Bane and either of the al Guhls.”

Mari’s smile faltered a bit at that; she’d deduced from Bruce’s oblique comments about her that Talia wasn’t a very pleasant woman, but having her confirmed as a full blown villain was disheartening. Still, her emotions were already a mess from the day and she didn’t want to dig into that particular can of angst at the moment. She decided to change the subject.

“So if Damian’s also on reserve tonight, where is he?” Her twin had also been the only sibling she  hadn’t got to meet before the villains struck. She was a little worried he was avoiding her for some reason.

“ French is a very pretty language even if I have no clue what you’re saying. I’m totally going to prank Jason for saying I’d get more use out of Spanish and Vietnamese.” Carrie chimed in absently.

Harper ignored her and answered Mari’s question. “Oh, he’s helping Bab’s run comms and standing on standby for the medbay, getting the stitches and surgical tools ready. He’ll probably assist Cass, Tim and Steph with the Ventriloquist so Oracle can focus on figuring out who’s behind KGBeast’s attack on Gotham. He’s mostly a gun for hire these days, so we need to figure out who’s paying him and whether they’re trying to free one prisoner or start a general exodus.”

Mari blinked “Damian knows how to do stitches? Damian knows how to do surgery!?”

“Yes to the first one, and kinda to the second,” Harper answered with a shrug. “I mean we all know enough to do it in a pinch if we have to, but typically anything delicate will be done by Alfred, Dr. Thompkins or Aunt Harley. As far as the stitches go, we sort of all need to know extensive first aid, right? I mean, it’s a dangerous job and you’re gonna take a couple hits after a while. What did you do in Paris?”

Mari awkwardly poked her two index fingers together, “Tried not to get hit. Also, maybe, kinda, used a magical time reversing Lady Bug earring my partner had to fix whatever happened.”

Harper fixed Mari with a deadpan stare, “I’m intensely jealous of you right now.”

Mari waved her hands frantically in front of her face, “It wasn’t perfect! It pretty much only fixed damage from the magically monsterized people who were terrorizing the city. It’s just that’s most of what we were fighting. A mugger caught me on the leg with a tire iron once and it bruised up like a grapefruit. Plus Bugboy wasn’t really very helpful outside of that, I ended up having to figure out how to take down most of the threats myself or with the help of Chloe and Luka, my civilian friends. Honestly, as much as the magic redo was useful, I’m not that upset to not have to work with him anymore. He was getting clingy, in a way that made me a bit uncomfortable.”

Mari realized she’d basically just word vomited a bunch on Harper and forced her mouth shut. Harper for her part leaned forward and put her hand comfortingly on Mari’s knee, “If you’d like to see him terrified out of his wits, you’ve got eleven siblings and a very protective papa bat and mama cat who would be delighted to help you.”

Chapter Text

Wayne Manor, Later that Night

Damian climbed the stairs from the Batcave in a pensive mood. The attempted breakout had been staved off, even if they failed to capture the Beast, and Wesker was successfully captured, but he was preoccupied by thoughts of his twin. He had a lot of complicated feelings towards his blood relations. When he was younger, and, as he could grudgingly admit, brainwashed, he had valued blood ties and lineage above all else. It had taken a great deal of patience from his family to get him out of that mindset and realize that what Talia and Ra’s had done to him wasn’t right. Talia in particular brought up a host of contradictory emotions. In many ways she was the best part of his childhood, but she was also responsible for his childhood being so terrible to begin with, by keeping him with the League of Assassins and away from his father. 

That was the source of his conflicted feelings on Marinette; after finally getting over his obsession with blood and acknowledging his other siblings as family, he was presented with a full sister. Damian blinked and furrowed his brow as he arrived in the manor; he was thinking of this the wrong way. Marinette was his blood, but that wasn’t what made her family. As Richard had shown him, family was a choice and Marinette was someone else who’d been hurt by Talia, albeit in another way. Someone who could use a brother. 

He stepped out into the manor proper, closing the hidden door behind him. Most of his siblings were still changing back out of their costumes in the cave so the manor was uncharacteristically quiet. He made his way to the room across from Cassandra's, Marinette's room. It was only as he knocked that he remembered most people wouldn't be awake at two in the morning; he was far too used to the odd sleeping habits of the batfamily.

However, it seemed Marinette had inherited their father's nocturnal nature as her door hesitantly swung open. The indigo haired girl was still dressed in the flower print shirt and green jacket she'd been wearing when she arrived. Damian's trained eyes absently took note of how distressed the garments were, with multiple mended tears and a certain level of grime; she obviously hadn't been able to regularly replace her clothes for some time.

"Uh, can I help you?" Marinette hesitantly asked. She seemed on edge to Damian and while he applauded her natural caution, he wanted to put her at ease.

"I hoped to speak with you, Altaw'am," Damian informed her. He spoke in Cantonese as her rudimentary file in the batcomputer indicated she was also fluent. She still looked hesitant

'Drat, Richard is so much better at this touchy feely stuff.' Damian bemoaned to himself. He tried again, "nothing is amiss. I simply wished to introduce myself properly as we were interrupted prior." 

Marinette nodded and opened the door fully, walking back to sit on her still made bed. From what Damian could see, his sister had yet to unpack any of her meager possessions, with everything still stuffed in her aging messenger bag and borrowed yellow duffel. Damian assumed at least unconsciously she wasn't trusting the home she'd found yet. He couldn't criticize, it had taken over a year of living at the manor for him to allow himself to acquire more personal effects than he could carry with him if he needed to flee in the night.

Damian stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, "I trust the room is to your satisfaction?"

"Uh, yes it's fine." Marinette replied, also in Cantonese,  while fiddling with the black and green ring she wore.

Damian nodded, "I think you will find Cassandra across the hall a good neighbor. She is among the least irritating of our siblings. The room to your left is Richard's but he lives primarily at his apartment in the city these days so it is usually empty."

"I see.." Marinette trailed off before asking, "What does Altaw'am mean?"

"It is Arabic for twin. I take it you're not familiar with the language."

Marinette shook her head, "No, it sounds rather elegant though."

Damian looked into the middle distance, falling into memories. "It was our … biological mother's primary tongue and the first language I was instructed in. I find I still have something of a sentimental attachment to it."

Marinette built her bottom lip, before blurting out, "What's she like? Talia, I mean."

Damian paused, trying to figure out how to best sum up their other birth parent. "She is a proud warrior and devoted daughter. When I was little she was my sun and stars. I'm unsure of how much father has informed you of my upbringing but it wasn't…. pleasant. She was often the bright spot, occasionally indulging me with things like sneaking me a fresh orange after training or regaling me with romanticized stories of father."

Marinette's brows furrowed in confusion. "She sounds kind of nice, but Harper insinuated Bruce sees her as a threat. Why?"

Damian sighed and took a seat next to his sister on the bed; he still wasn't good at being this open emotionally, but he'd put forth the effort. "While she snuck me oranges, she also signed off on a five year old training against full grown fighters for 14 hours a day. She told me of father's accomplishments but tried to guide me away from his ideals. I do believe she has some amount of affection for me, but she was ultimately willingly complicit with making me into a weapon to be used and discarded by our grandfather."

Marinette regarded him with a sympathetic look. It made him uncomfortable to display his vulnerabilities and it was something he'd never do for anyone other than family. He hoped the gesture would help to show Marinette that she was indeed that, family.

"That's awful Damian, I'm sorry," Marinette  leaned over and put her hand on his shoulder. She let out a wet chuckle, "It makes me feel a bit better she didn't keep me. Although I'm still confused why she dropped me in a random orphanage in France."

"If I had to guess it's due to your gender," Damian informed her matter of factly. Marinette shot him an offended look and he shrugged slightly, "Our maternal line is rather patriarchal in their philosophy. Part of the reason Grandfather approved my conception was due to his dissatisfaction with having a female heir. If, as it seems she did, she conceived twins, there would be little use for you as you were also a girl. If she had informed grandfather of your existence, you likely would have been disposed of or raised in the rank and file of the League of Assassins. She may have sent you away to give you a chance at a life, although that's merely speculation." Damian paused for a moment before adding, "I would have liked it if we could have grown up together.

Marinette nodded thoughtfully, before offering a shy smile to Damian. "Well, they may have split us up, but we found each other eventually didn't we?"

Damian smiled back, "Yes, I suppose we did."

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Wayne Manor, The Next Morning, Sunday

Marinette was having a confusing morning. She'd finally been able to fall asleep awhile after her conversation with Damian the previous evening. Prior to that she'd been alternating between texting Chloe, talking to Plagg and trying to center herself enough that she could rest. She'd enjoyed spending time with Harper and Carrie earlier in the evening but the day had been overwhelming for the girl. Her talk with Damian, while a sad one, had helped to calm herself enough to sleep under Plagg's watchful eye.

Her kwami partner was still staying out of sight of the Waynes for the moment, being very protective of Mari and slow to trust. He'd called himself her "secret weapon" if things went downhill fast

The morning began relatively late in the day, around ten, when Bruce had gently wrapped on her door. She wasn't normally a late riser but she was tired from the night before and still suffering from jetlag. 

"Good morning, Marinette, did you sleep well?" He asked in French.

Marinette rubbed the sleep from her eyes and nodded at her … father? That was still such a weird notion. 

"I did. Thank you for asking," Marinette was careful to keep her tone respectful; she didn't want to make waves and rock the boat.

Bruce smiled, such a strange thing to think of The Batman doing, at her. "I'm glad. I apologize for having to leave so suddenly last night; I wouldn't have if it could have been avoided." Bruce looked genuinely chagrined at having to leave to save the city, which confused Mari. Of course his work as Batman was more important than her.

“It’s not a problem. I get you don’t exactly get to plan when a villain attacks.” That was something Marinette understood intimately; trying to maintain her social life before it completely collapsed while having to sneak away to be Lady Noire had been a challenge at times to say the least.

Bruce gave her an evaluating look before saying, “Well, if you’re up for it, Alfred has prepared Sunday brunch downstairs, when you get dressed.”

Mari nodded and Bruce closed the door. She was wearing a simple undershirt and shorts to sleep in, both borrowed from Chloe as Mari had had to abandon most of her wardrobe when the Dupain-Chengs tossed her to the curb. She looked around for her clothes from the day before but found they were gone, and in their place was a nicely folded new outfit. It was a simple green collared blouse, white cardigan, and a pair of jeans; her eyes bugged slightly at the sight of the high end labels on each garment. These definitely weren’t clothes she had brought with her. Chloe had a rather expensive wardrobe she’d been willing to share, but Mari had been reluctant to take more than the bare necessities considering she was already relying on the girl for food and shelter.

Still, they were her size and sitting on her bed so they had to be for her, right? Mari would have to thank Bruce and figure out a way to pay him back later. She dressed in the clothes and poked her head out into the wider manor. There was a mild cacophony floating from the floor below and Marinette followed the noise to the family’s informal breakfast nook.

Sat at the table were Carrie, Harper, Cassandra, Tim, Stephanie, Bruce, Selena and Helena in a booster seat. The butler, who she thought was named Alfred, was serving food from a dining cart; he looked up when she entered.

"Good morning, Ms. Marinette, in honor of your arrival, I thought we'd have a selection of French cuisine this morning. I've prepared croque madame and there are sauteed greens to accompany it with pain au Chocolat to finish." The man spoke English but slowly enough for Marinette to understand most of it.

“Th-thank you,” Marinette stammered as she took the empty seat between Harper and Tim, surprised at the man’s consideration. An odd warmth bubbled in her chest as Alfred dished a generous portion of the egg dish on her plate and Tim passed her a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Due to Chloe’s generous allowance, she’d never gone hungry on the streets of Paris but it had been a very long time since she’d had a home cooked meal. Perhaps because they owned a restaurant themselves, Tom and Sabine rarely cooked at home and she was used to just grabbing something from a boulangerie. 

She bit into the croque madame and instantly melted when it touched her taste buds; the flavor was divine and it boggled her mind that Bruce’s personal butler was such an amazing chef, the man should be a Michelin chef! She came back to earth when she noticed Tim and Stephanie giving her knowing looks.

“Yeah, now you get it. Alfred’s pretty much the best ever,” Steph smirked at her. The blonde was sporting a large bruise, visible due to her sleeveless blouse, but had a sunny smile on her face. 

Mari’s eyes bulged slightly at the sight of the bruise, “Are you all right?”

The older girl waved her off, “Oh this? One of Ventriloquist’s goons got a lucky hit last night, nothing to worry about.”

Tim sold his sibling out, “More like you got distracted laughing at Scarface's inability to pronounce the letter B, and let the guy sneak up on you.”

Stephanie launched a pastry at her smirking brother, who deftly caught it before taking a bite. 

“Stephanie,” Bruce began, slightly sternly, “The field is not a place to play around. I want you to focus in the future.”

Steph looked chagrined, “Yes sir. Sorry, Dad.”

Bruce’s steely gaze softened a bit and he put an arm on Stephanie’s uninjured shoulder, “I just worry about you. I don’t like seeing any of you get injured.”

Stephanie smiled at her dad before returning to demolishing the breakfast in front of her. Crime fighting burnt a lot of calories, so Alfred tended to prepare a lot of food. Selina gently took her husband’s hand and gave it a little squeeze before turning to address the table, “So, what’s on everyone’s agenda today?”

“Training with Dick!” Carrie declared enthusiastically, punching the air in front of her; the eleven year old was very excited for when she’d be allowed out in the field and until then, sparring was the next best thing. She’d actually gone out once in a homemade Robin costume before the Waynes had found her and managed to knock out two of FIrefly’s thugs, trying to burn down the apartment complex she was squating in, with the element of surprise before they overpowered her. Luckily Catwoman and Nightwing had arrived in the knick of time to save her, introducing her to Selina and Dick and leading quickly to her joining the family.

“Dance!” Helena declared while wiggling wildly around in her booster; it was unclear if she was describing what she was currently doing or what she planned to do later in the day, but when you’re four you can get away with being a little vague.

“Working on fixing up the batmobile in the morning then I’m going by Auntie Harley and Auntie Ivy’s to water their plants,” Harper responded between mouthfuls of egg, “after that patrol with Jason tonight.”

Tim took a sip of his coffee before replying, “I’m working on tracking those shell companies we think Lexcorp may be using to try and buy up the properties down by the Gotham docks. Luthor normally stays out of Gotham, so if he’s causing trouble in Wayne Enterprises backyard it may be for something big.”

Selina nodded at Tim, “Let us know if it’s something we need to take to Wayne Enterprises or Kane Consolidated, it’s always possible we could nip his plans in the bud, by buying it out from under him.”

“Also, send Clark a copy of whatever you find. He likes to stay looped in whenever Luthor is involved,” Bruce added.

“Will do, but I’m not even sure Lex himself is involved yet. Might just be some low level executive trying to manipulate real estate prices or something; I’ll let you know what I find.” Tim agreed before finishing his mug of coffee in one massive chug. Selina gave the subtle sign to Alfred to replace Tim’s next cup with decaf. 

“Since I’m benched from patrolling for a bit,” Stephanie gestured to her injured shoulder, “I figured I’d help Damian with putting together Mari’s welcome packet. Then just dancing with Helena.” Stephanie booped her little sister on the nose, sending the little girl into giggling hysterics.

“Welcome packet?” Marinette asked, having been distracted by the divine croque madame until she heard her name.

“Just a primer to help you learn how we operate,” Tim explained, “Some quick profiles on our recurring rogues and the major players in organized crime, detailed maps of Gotham, basic league protocols, that sort of thing. Damian volunteered to put yours together and should have it for you by this afternoon.” Mari nodded, actually rather grateful to have that kind of resource waiting for her. She knew Paris and its myriad rooftops and sewers like the back of her hand, but Gotham was foreign territory.

“Right,” Stephanie agreed, “We’ll also need to walk you through how to use things like the medbay and your batcycle, but there’s time for that later in the week.”

Marinette’s mind boggled at the idea she was apparently getting her own motorcycle, but figured it was fairly necessary to quickly get from the estate into Gotham proper. However, the next statement truly threw her for a loop.

“Going ice-skating with new sister.” Cass proudly declared, while shooting a grin Mari’s way. It took the French girl a moment to realize that meant her and another to process it. Cassandra Wayne wanted to go ice-skating, with her? She understood the other things the family was doing for her because it was to make her a better crimefighter as Lady Noire, but it had been a long time since someone had wanted to do something nice for plain civilian Marinette. She realized the older girl was looking at her expectantly with a set of truly impressive puppy dog eyes.

“Uh, sure?”

Bruce smiled, “That sounds like a great plan Cassandra, you can go this afternoon after Damian and Stephanie finish her primer. Alfred, would you have Percival drive them into town?”

“Of course sir.” Alfred responded. Percival was one of the main drivers the Waynes employed since it wasn’t really practical to have Alfred constantly on chauffeur duty when there were so many of them; unlike the beloved butler, he was not privy to the family’s vigilante’ lifestyle and didn’t stay at the manor, instead commuting to them from the city.

Mari nodded along, wondering if she should bring up the fact that she didn’t know how to skate.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Dick and Kori’s Apartment, Gotham City

Dick stretched his arms as he woke up to the feeling of his sheets floating up off of him. He smiled as he looked up to see his longtime girlfriend, Koriand’r or Starfire, floating up off the bed in her sleep. It wasn’t something she did all the time, but the alien still had a tendency to float when she was having a pleasant dream.

“Star, you’re floating again,” Nightwing gently nudged. Koriand'r balled up in the air and rotated before stretching out like a starfish as she yawned. “I wish you had not woken me, mate Richard. The dream I was experiencing was most excellent.” Despite her species ability to absorb language through contact, Kori had always had an interesting relationship with english. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m due in the cave to help Ma with Carrie’s training and if I left you asleep, you’d probably snooze straight through the Titans meeting.” Like most of his family, Dick was taking a step back from some of his duties outside of Gotham for the next few months, so it was more important than usual for Kori to be on time for the Titans’ weekly meeting. Unlike the League, the Titans worked out of a terrestrial base of operations in Jump City on the west coast, but that was just a quick jaunt via zeta. 

“I have never slept longer than I intended to,” Kori declared, lying through her teeth. However, she began to get ready for the day regardless. Unlike most heroes, the Tamaranian had no day job outside of heroics, so she immediately began pulling her purple costume boots over her orange skin. After donning her costume, she thumbed the image inducer, housed in a pair of earrings, that shifted her appearance to that of a human, fiery hair shifting to blonde and orange skin paling to white; while she didn’t have a day job, she did have a secret identity as Kori Jones, the adopted daughter of the Martian Manhunter’s main alias. The inducer also covered her costume with a nondescript pair of sweatpants and Wonder Woman tee; normally she’d dress in actual civilian clothes, but for the quick tip to the Gotham Zeta, she didn’t bother.

While she dressed, Dick made them a quick breakfast of toast and cereal; he wasn’t much of a chef but he wasn’t a menace in the kitchen like Bruce. “Let me know how the meeting goes, especially if Gar made any progress on that poaching ring in Thailand,” Dick asked before slurping his leftover milk from his cereal.

Kori smiled indulgently and leant in to give Dick a quick peck on the lips, “Of course, Richard, the meeting will go very well, there is no need for the worry. Enjoy your spending of the family-time!” Dick smiled back at her a little sheepishly; he’d inherited his father’s tendency to micromanage. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Manor, Family Wing

Plagg sniffed the air as he continued his vital scouting mission. He and Mari were strangers in a strange land and he needed all the information he could get so he could protect her. Being connected to the girl’s soul, he knew the amount of pain she kept hidden and was dedicated to preventing her from being hurt again. So, if these Waynes had something to hide, the Kwami of Destruction would sniff it out.

He darted around the hallway, peeking into the various rooms as he went. So far, nothing too suspicious, but Plagg wouldn’t trust it till he’d searched every nook and cranny. For all he knew this was all just some elaborate scheme by a friend of Hawkmoth to get Mari to lower her defenses, but he wasn’t going to fall for it!

He peered around the corner and, there! A flash of black darting into a backroom, something was trying to hide from his sight. Plagg hurried after it, barreling into the room with his fur standing on end, ready to confront the enemy.

He found himself in a large room full of scratching posts, boxes, cat toys, cat beds, litter boxes, and fountain style water bowls. Four cats were lounging languidly about in the plush room, including the black one he’d apparently been chasing.

‘ Okay, maybe this place isn’t so bad…’ the kwami mused to himself as he inched towards the inviting scratching post with the cartoon mice on it.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Batcave

For a billionaire, Bruce Wayne’s garage was actually rather modest, containing only a dozen or so vehicles. Bruce had never been much of a car guy himself and was driven by Alfred or a WE driver more often than not, so he’d never seen the point in accumulating ludicrously expensive sports cars like his peers. The only reason the fleet had grown to as large as it had was the addition of vehicles, not overly fancy but tricked out with every safety feature imaginable, for his children over the past several years as they got old enough to drive.

This belied the fact that hundreds of feet below the Wayne Garage, sat perhaps the most impressive assortment of terrestrial vehicles on the planet. It was an erroneous notion that there was a Batmobile; there were in fact over a dozen. Granted, most of them were older models that had since been retired from service, but the family always kept two at least of the current model available, allowing one car to be down for repairs while the other was in use. 

In addition to the Batmobiles, there was the Batwing, the Batcopter, Batcycles for each hero, the Batsub, the Batrocket, and the Batskiff amongst others. The Batcave’s garage was fully kitted out for the maintenance and modification of the myriad vehicles.

Although all of the Bats were required to have an understanding of how to maintain and operate the vehicles they used, Jason was the unofficial main mechanic of the team, with Harper often acting as his right hand woman. He’d originally been instructed by the mute engineer, Harold, an ally of Bruce’s, back when he was Robin and had taken quickly to being a grease monkey. The death of Harold at the hands of Hush was arguably the main reason that Elliot was considered a Code: Black threat.

Harper was always a natural engineer and loved the opportunity to disassemble and tinker with the complex mechanics of the Bat vehicles; plus, working with Jason to repair Selina’s Batcycle engine had been the first time they’d really bonded as siblings.

At the moment the bluenette was elbow deep in the innards of the out of use Batmobile, trying to ascertain where the oil leak was coming from. The car had been smashed by Bizarro when the villain took a surprise visit to Gotham two weeks prior. The durable frame had held up to the onslaught for the most part, but after being knocked around there was some damage to the internals. 

“Whoa.” The voice behind her alerted Harper that she had company, and she turned around to see Marinette gawking at the assembled vehicles and gear. Harper pulled herself out of the engine and wiped the oil from her hand as she responded, chuckling, “That was roughly my reaction too the first time I was down here. Have you toured the rest of the Cave yet?”

Marinette shook her head, “No, I came down looking for Damian and got a bit turned around. This place is massive!” Mari couldn’t help but be giddy at the idea of working out of such a base, considering her previous base was Chloe’s closet. 

Harper lit up, “Ooh! I get to give the tour, I never get to give the tour!” She closed the hood and put her wrench back on the tool bench; she could finish the maintenance later. She clapped before beginning her explanation, “So this is the Garage, it takes up most of the north western quadrant of the Cave and leads to the main waterfall exit on the edge of the property. This is where we do maintenance on all of our vehicles and also any particularly mechanically complex bits of gear like my tasers or our grapple guns.”

As she spoke, Harper led Mari back into the central platform of the cave, near the elevator. “This is the central hub; as you can see this is where Dad and Dick keep most of the trophies, retired costumes and memento type things.” The area was surrounded with glass cases containing various costumes, various bits of villain gear and other knick knacks, but her attention was fixated on the inexplicable giant T-Rex that loomed over them.

Harper followed her gaze and giggled, “Yeah there’s a bit of a story behind that. You’ll have to get Dick to tell you sometime; he gets all puppy dog sad if someone steals the thunder of his Robin stories.”

“Wait, I thought Robin was Damian’s codename?” Marinette asked. She’d been given a quick rundown on which hero was which Wayne by Tim during their conversation at breakfast.

Harper nodded, “He is, but Robin’s a bit of a legacy title. Dick was Robin when he was younger, then Jason and Tim also had stints in the green tights. Barbara was also the first Batgirl before … Stephanie took over.” Mari was noticing how the family talked around certain things like the circumstances surrounding Barbara’s paralyzation but didn’t feel comfortable pushing them on it.

“Man, that's weird. I can’t imagine someone else being under Lady Noire’s mask.” 

“Really? I’m excited about getting to try it out once Mom and Tim finish the mundane version of your costume!” Harper responded, much to Mari’s confusion.

Mari had a moment of momentary panic; was Bruce benching her for some reason and replacing her? He couldn’t do that! “Why would you be wearing my costume?” She demanded, perhaps a little more harshly than she intended.

Harper put up a placating hand and rushed to answer, “Whoa, whoa. I didn’t mean I was going to be stealing your codename or anything. It’s just something we do to help maintain our secret identities. We engineer a scenario where we can be seen in public at the same time as our alter egos so no one will think we’re the same person. I’m probably going to do it for you because we’re the closest in builds. I’ve done it for Steph, wearing a blonde wig and Cass did it for me in a blue one.”

Mari instantly calmed down and smiled a little sheepishly. She didn’t mean to snap at Harper, but she was rather protective of her role as Lady Noire. It had been the only aspect of her life she had control over and she didn’t want to lose it. “That makes sense, sorry for getting defensive. I’m not used to having a reliable team who could do something like that.”

Harper, to Mari’s surprise, pulled her into a quick hug. “No worries, Mari.” She released the younger girl before snapping back into tourguide mode. “So the other main thing here in the hub is the batcomputer, which is that massive monitor over there that Tim’s using.” Mari looked up to see that indeed, the boy known as Raptor was working through some sort of files on the computer. When had he come in? Was he just that quiet? He turned and gave them a lazy wave before returning to his work.

“It’s arguably the most powerful wholly terrestrial supercomputer in the world and receives frequent overhauls. It’s tapped into most national and international criminal databases, the GCPD system and the Watchtower’s files. You can actually access most of the Batcomputer’s systems remotely, but some things are easier to do from the main terminal. Usually Dad, Babs, or Tim will be on it but we all use it for our casework and research.” Mari nodded dumbly, her mind reeling at the idea of having that sort of resource. If she’d had that in Paris, she likely would have sussed out Hawkmoth’s identity much sooner.

Mari led her down the second of the four paths leading off from the central hub, this one to the north east. “This way leads to the infirmary, although there’s another path that leads here directly from the garage so we can get here quickly if we’re in critical condition.” Harper described as they walked into the pristine area. Despite being in a literal cave, the series of divided rooms in this section seemed to be kept exceptionally sterile. There were four different basic suites for first aid and two fully equipped surgical suites. Harper continued, “Steph will make sure you get proper first aid training, and then you’ll be ready to use any of the four rooms on the left. We’ve got everything you need for your average stab wounds or basic fracture. The rooms on the left are for more serious operations and we hope not to have to use them much. That said, if we do, you’re arguably in better hands here than at Gotham General; Dad’s neurotic about making sure our medical equipment is top of the line.” Mari noticed Stephanie was tucked in one of the rooms, making notes on some sort of datapad; she figured the older girl was taking inventory or something.

Harper took Mari back into the hub then turned down to the south eastern quadrant. “This is a bit of a miscellaneous area, you’ll find the armory with batarangs, replacement weapons etc. here. There’s also a secondary communications hub for when we’re running multiple operations like last night, and the zeta tube.”

“Zeta tube?” Mari asked while she looked at the odd metal arch built into the cave wall. “Teleporter,” Harper responded, “The leagues got one in most major cities and their orbiting satellite. There’s another one at our secondary base in the Gotham Clocktower. Keep it under your hat though, it's something we don’t want getting out.” Marinette quickly felt like her world, which had already turned into fantasy over the last year and a half, was rapidly slipping into science fiction but she tried to keep the surprise on her face. Internally she was hopeful she’d be allowed to use it to visit Chloe but she wasn’t sure if they were reserved for league business or something. 

“There’s also another passage here to the underground tram that connects us with the Kane Mansion, and it’s how Auntie Kate, Auntie Diana and our cousins get to the cave. Plus the sewing shop where we put together replacement costumes for when our current ones wear out”

Marinette’s eyes shimmered with excitement, “There’s a sewing room down here?”

Harper nodded a little slowly, “Well, that’s a bit of a simplification since our costumes are made of some pretty cutting edge fibers to make them somewhat bullet proof, tear resistant, fire proof etc, but yeah. I didn’t figure you’d be that excited about it, since your costume is all fancy and magical.”

Mari smiled brightly, “It is, but I love tailoring and designing. I just haven’t really gotten to, since…” She trailed off as she stumbled upon the subject of her abandonment by the Dupain-Chengs. Having to leave her precious sewing machine behind had in many ways been the most painful part of it. Harper gave her a playful nudge in the shoulder, “Well we’ll have to get you in there sometime then. You should talk to mom about getting a look around in there; some of the machines are a bit technical but I’m sure she’d be happy to show you.”

Mari tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear before tentatively asking Harper, “You think so?”

Harper nodded, “Absolutely.”

“Do you- do you think Selina is okay with me? I know I had to be a surprise for her.”

Harper put a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder, “Marinette, she likes you, trust me. We were all a surprise in one way or another. Besides, Mom’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”

Marinette breathed a bit easier, “That’s good to hear. I’ve been a bit worried. I know I’m Bruce’s daughter technically but I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about a child from his past living in her house.”

Harper laughed at that, “Mari. One, Damian’s lived here for years, she’s gone through it before. Two, she literally bought a new top of the line civilian sewing machine the other day, and based on what you just said, I’m guessing it’s for you. She’s happy you’re here, just give her a chance.” Harper knew her mother would sign Marinette’s formal adoption papers within the hour if she wasn’t afraid of spooking the girl, but she kept that to herself for the moment. She’d heard stories from her siblings about how resistant Damian and Jason before him were to new maternal figures, so she didn’t want to push Marinette.

For her part, Mari was confident Selina must have purchased something expensive like that for her own use but was hopeful she might be able to borrow it until she could save up for her own set-up again. 

Harper led Mari to the last quadrant of the cave, and as they neared Mari could hear the sound of something smacking into something heavy along with various sounds of exertion. As they neared, she had to force herself from literally dropping her jaw in amazement. The entire area was a complex training area, divided between multiple sparring mats, what appeared to be a target range of sorts, and something she could only describe as a high-danger obstacle course complete with gouts of flame and swinging blades. (If she had looked closer she would have seen the blades were in fact rubber facsimiles and the fire was holographic; there was no point in making training more dangerous than it had to be.)

Several of the sparring areas were already in use. In one Jason was boxing with their father, the two muscular men each giving as good as they got. Mari noticed how skilled both fighters seemed, but also the numerous scars that crisscrossed their bodies, visible in their workout clothes. To their left, Carrie was fighting ferociously with her mother, wielding a blunted set of Cat Claw gauntlets while Selina defended with just her hands. Where Bruce and Jason were focusing on power, Selina was all grace, dodging easily between Carrie’s strikes. “Good, darling, remember to disrupt my footing,” Selina instructed as Carrie went for a leg sweep before landing a blow on Selina’s thigh.

The final spar seemed to be happening between Damian and a blonde girl Mari didn’t recognize. She looked to be about Tim’s age, and wore a black workout tee with a red bat symbol emblazoned across it. Damian seemed to outclass her as a fighter, ducking and weaving around her strikes, but when the girl’s fist hit the wall instead, the cave shook slightly. 

‘How is she that strong?’ Marinette screeched in her mind as the girl tried to catch Damian with a haymaker. The shorter boy ducked her fist and used his foot to hook the blonde’s out from under her, sending her tumbling to the mat.

“That is my win, cousin,” Damian declared while bowing slightly to his downed opponent. The girl flopped on the ground and groaned, “One of these days, Dami, I’m actually going to win a spar.” 

Damian smirked, “I look forward to it.” He turned to see Harper and Mari and walked over, gesturing for the blonde to follow.

“Marinette, I do not believe you have met our cousin yet. May I introduce you to Sandra Kane, also known as the second Wonder Girl when in the field.”

“Dang, Dami makes me sound so fancy,” Sandra said while reaching forward to shake Marinette’s hand. “Welcome to the family, cuz, If you ever need a break from these crazies, you’re welcome over at the Kane estate.” Her words were spoken with a bubbly exuberance and Harper simply rolled her eyes at the crazies comment.

Damian turned back to Mari, “I do apologize; I had finished your dossier, but Stephanie decided my overview was insufficient and is making improvements,” Damian pouted slightly as he said it. “I think we’ll have to postpone your orientation until after your excursion with Cassandra.”

“Oh, that’s okay!” Marinette squeaked. She really didn’t want to be a bother to anyone, although she was a bit worried about how long the list of information she was expected to learn was going to be. It was going to be like homework in the middle of summer! Not that she’d been to school for months but that was besides the point.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Ice Rink

Kara was nervous as she waited outside the Nora Fries Memorial Ice Rink, which was very atypical for her when she was going to be spending time with Cass. Cass was her favorite person in the world, but today wasn’t just a regular date for the pair. Today she’d be meeting the newest Wayne and she wanted to make a good impression on Cass’s little sister. Not that she thought Cass’s new sister would be a snob or anything, and gosh, she was rambling to herself again wasn’t she?

She’d flown over from Metropolis and changed quickly into her civvies before making her way to the ice rink. It was a hot summer day, but she’d dressed in layers with a pink cardigan over a button up and long woolen tights, since it would be cold inside. It didn’t really matter to her, fluctuations in earth’s temperature range barely affected her but she’d learned early not to do things like wear a tank top snowboarding or an overcoat surfing; it was an easy way to give away her alien nature.

Kara had been momentarily confused that Cass had wanted her to join them for her first outing with Marinette, thinking she’d prefer to do it alone, but her girlfriend had explained she was in need of an interpreter. With all of the Kents and Waynes being fluent in sign language, it could be easy to forget it wasn’t a common skill. Cass was quite capable of basic conversation without it, but for more complex ideas she still fell back on sign instead of spoken language.

Eventually heard Cass’ heartbeat nearing and looked up to see a Wayne Enterprises town car pulling up to the curb. Cass got out first, she was wearing a yellow peacoat over her grey sweater and leggings; she also had on pink fuzzy earmuffs Kara had gotten her as a gift last Hanukkah which made the kryptonian feel all gooey inside. Following behind her was a blue haired girl with an erratic anxious heartbeat, Kara assumed must be Marinette. The girl wore a cute white cardigan over a green collared button up and deep blue jeans, and kept fiddling with a ring on her right ring finger. 

“Cass!” Kara called out and soon her girlfriend barreled into her, pulling her into a tight hug that would probably damage anyone not possessing super durability. Cass released Kara and grabbed Mari by the hand, pulling her closer. “This is Mari, new sister!” Cass excitedly informed her. Mari extended her hand and introduced herself in somewhat stilted English, “I’m Marinette, it’s very nice to meet you.”

Kara shook the girl’s hand and introduced herself in kind, “It’s good to meet you too! I’m Kara Kent, Cass’s girlfriend.” Cass preened at the title. “I’m glad you could join us today.”

Mari scratched the back of her head sheepishly, “Uh, about that, I might not, y’know, entirely know how to skate…” The girl got quieter as she trailed off. Cass waved off her concerns, “No trouble, I’ll teach!” The ravenette seemed rather excited by the idea and Mari’s heartrate calmed down a little bit. Kara, who usually sort of cheated when she skated by using her powers to float slightly and stay up right, wisely decided to keep quiet.

—---------

Mari pumped her arms in triumph as she completed her first successful solo circuit of the skating rink. It had been two hours since they arrived, and Cass had proved to be a very patient teacher, relying sometimes on Kara to translate certain ideas she could only express in sign, but always being very encouraging. Despite having landed on her rump a dozen times, Mari was having a really good time. She felt a sense of accomplishment as she got better and was generally enjoying having fun without constantly worrying about having to save the world. She’d basically been living as Lady Noire only for half a year whenever she left Chloe’s room.

‘ I guess there are some things I missed about being Marinette,’ she mused to herself as she skated back over to where Cass and Kara were. Her big sister ( I have a big sister!) was giving her a big thumbs up and Kara was smiling brilliantly at her. Luckily the rink hadn’t been that crowded today, with only a few dozen people, and she’d had room to practice. Unfortunately something disrupted the happy tableau when the ceiling abruptly exploded inward.

Without thinking, Marinette barreled forward, tackling Kara, who she assumed was a civilian, over the barrier and out of the rink. Cass quickly spun and hopped over to kneel with them. Marinette peered over the rim, while Cass signed furiously to Kara, to see what was happening.

The various skaters were screaming and trying desperately to make their way off the ice as twelve armed men rappelled down into the area. Eleven of them were clad in black and blue body armor, with automatics slung under their shoulders, but it was the twelfth that stood out. He wore some sort of containment suit, with his head encased in a transparent dome; his skin was blue, like someone who had frozen to death, and he wielded a hi-tech looking gun that glowed blue around the muzzle. 

“I have come to destroy this lie,” the man announced in a flat monotone, before blasting his gun at the main exit. The doors were suddenly encased in ice, sealing everyone inside. “There can be no memorial for Nora Fries, for Nora Fries is not dead.” As he spoke he sent another blast towards the emergency exits. His men, who had spiked shoes for navigating the ice, began to fan out and round people up. Mari had seen enough.

“I hope this takes the skates off, like with normal shoes,” she muttered while activating her ring. “Plagg, Claws out!” Despite the danger she was in, Mari couldn’t deny she felt relieved as Plagg’s magic surrounded her, transforming her into Lady Noire. She hadn’t transformed since arriving in the states and it was making her anxious; she just felt so much more confident, so much more herself when she was in costume. She leapt over the barrier and crouched on the ice, her claws giving her traction on the ice. “You guys up for some hockey?”

Because she asked the question in French, it was doubtful that the henchmen understood her, but they all snapped their guns in her direction nonetheless. However, she was already in motion, swinging her staff as she tumbled to the side. She elongated her staff mid swing, catching three of the men in one swing with her enhanced strength and sending them catapulting into the wall. A hailfire of bullets came her way, but she danced ahead of them, bouncing off the barrier, then vaulting with her staff over the leader’s head.

She landed on her hands, between two of the goons, and took them out with a split, simultaneously kicking both of them below the belt. She then dashed towards another foe, snagging his armor with her claws, then hurling him over her shoulder at another enemy, sending both men sprawling to the ground. Unfortunately, while she was doing it, Freeze got a bead on her with his cold gun.

“I do detest interlopers.” He fired a blast of ice towards Marinette; she wasn’t going to be able to dodge in time. However, instead of encasing her in ice, a billowing cloud of steam filled the area as Heat vision met Freeze ray. Marinette saw a blur of red and blue as Supergirl rocketed past her to tackle Freeze. Mari took advantage of the steam cover to dart back off of the rink and over the barrier to where she’d let Cass and Kara.

Meanwhile, Kara had tackled Freeze through the barrier on the other side and into the surrounding stands. “I was under the impression that Batman didn’t let you other caped fools play in his city,” The ice villain droned.

Kara grinned, “I guess I’m an exception. You can think of me as a friend who just happened to be passing through. Muse on that on your way to jail.”

“How interesting,” Freeze responded, “I also have a friend, who was passing through.” As he spoke, Kara heard the cocking of a gun from far behind her and spun to see Killshot, crouched up in the stands,  leveling his rifle at Mari and the still civilian garbed Cass. The villain fired and Kara flew like the wind, intercepting the bullet. It was only after the bullet pierced her normally invulnerable flesh and she felt searing pain in her arm that she realized she’d been played. “Kryptonite bullets...” Mari was freaking out internally but keeping a brave face as the maiden of might slumped over. Freeze and his five men who were still standing regrouped and began to approach the trio.

Cass gently laid Kara on the ground and prepared to leap into action alongside Mari, secret identity be damned, when suddenly three new figures descended from the rupture in the ceiling. Catwoman, Raptor and Gold Bat flew into the room, swinging down from the hovering Batwing. Raptor immediately launched multiple birdarangs at Killshot while Gold Bat manipulated the light around the assassin to disorient him. Unable to see properly, the villain shot wildly before Tim’s weapons made contact, knocking him unconscious.  Simultaneously Mari leapt from concealment and charged towards Mr. Freeze, claws out. She wasn’t sure if her claws could pierce his helmet, so she went all out. 

“CATACLYSM!” She cried as her hand made contact, sending green cracks splintering throughout Freeze’s armored containment suit, which immediately began venting its specialized atmosphere. Freeze recoiled, gasping as his suit failed him. “No, No, I cannot fail here. Nora needs me!” As he spoke, he turned his freeze gun on himself, encasing his body in ice to keep its temperature low. Mari turned to round on the remaining villains, but discovered four of the five were already on the ground, unconscious and the last one was currently being flipped through the air by Selina’s whip. Mari slowly untensed as all the villains appeared to be down, either bound or unconscious. 

There was a beat as the dust settled, before the previously frightened bystanders began to flood the vigilantes, camera phones out. Cass quickly used her specialized high pitched communicator in the hubbub to get help for Kara, before blending in with the crowd. The Black Bat had wanted to jump into the fray, but the protocol was to always try and maintain your civilian identity if possible, so she’d just activated her emergency beacon. With Kara with them, and able to disable their guns with heat vision if need be, she was confident they’d be fine until her family arrived. She just hadn’t been expecting Mari to go on the offensive before she could communicate her plan to her.

There was a red and blue blur too fast for most of the bystanders to catch and suddenly Supergirl was gone. Clark had scooped his adopted daughter off and hurried her away to the Batcave to have the kryptonite bullet removed; luckily it was a small enough sample it was only making him mildly nauseous since he wasn’t in direct contact. Kara should be right as rain once they removed the toxic bullet from her, but his heart was still pounding. Why had a random Gotham c-lister been armed with something as rare as kryptonite?

Meanwhile, back at the rink, the people were rushing in to thank or possibly get a picture with one of the bats. Several people were shouting questions about who Marinette was and if she was a new Bat. Selina put a comforting hand on Lady Noire’s shoulder, “I see you’ve all met Lady Noire, my new protege.” Mari’s cat eyes widened a bit in shock, but most of her focus was on how to get away before her remaining five minutes were up. Selina continued, “She was previously a heroine in Paris but recently emigrated here to Gotham. Now, Gold Bat will have the exit thawed out soon and GCPD is waiting outside to take these men into custody, we’ll have to catch you later.” She gave the crowd a smirk before grabbing Mari by the waist and launching her grapple line back up to the Batwing.

They tumbled into the hold of the ship, which Mari looked up to see Jason piloting. Her Lady Noire transformation dropped and she was Marinette once again. As soon as they were clear of the cameras that had swarmed the ice rink, Marinette immediately began apologizing, “I’m so sorry-”

Before she could get it out, Selina had pulled her into a bone crushing hug, running her fingers through Marinette’s hair. “Shh, you’re okay, kitten. Everything is okay.” Mari stiffened momentarily before melting into the maternal embrace. She honestly couldn’t remember being hugged like this and it made her both terribly sad and gloriously happy to finally experience it. She wasn’t sure how long the hug lasted but when they finally broke, Tim and Duke had joined them and the plane was angling back out of Gotham.

“What about Cass? And Kara?” Mari asked, since her sister had been left behind.

“Cass stayed behind to give a statement to GCPD. Since Cassandra Wayne’s a public face, disappearing in the middle of an event like that could cause questions. Dick’s going to collect her as a civilian,” Tim responded as they made their way to the manor. “Kara’s having the bullet removed as we speak, she should be up within the hour.”

Mari nodded along, the adrenaline slowly ebbing from her body as realization hit her. Those hadn’t been Akuma she’d fought today, those had been career criminals with weapons that could do lasting harm. “How did you guys get there so fast? Were you monitoring the rink’s security?”

Duke shook his head, “Cass hit her emergency beacon as soon as Freeze showed up; we set out right away.”

Mari nodded, and Selina rubbed her shoulders. “We’ll have yours for you by the end of the day, kitten. I don’t want you to be in danger again without a way to call for help.”

Mari pouted a bit despite herself, “I can take care of myself. I had those guys mostly handled.”

Selina knelt down and looked Mari in the eyes, green orbs gazing into blue. Selina repeated the words she wished she could have told her younger self when she was still living rough on the streets of Gotham. “I know you can take care of yourself, but you don’t have to. You have people who want to help and protect you. We’re stronger as a family.”

A family. It was something Mari had never had, not really. In a way, the Dupain-Chengs tossing her aside so easily made her realize they were never much of a family to begin with. But the Waynes? Maybe they’d be a different story. Mari’s eyes shimmered with barely restrained tears for a moment before she pulled Selina back in for another hug.

Chapter Text

Warning: References to child abandonment and child neglect

College Francoise Dupont, Monday Morning

“Guys, guys, guys! Have you seen this!?” Alix dashed about asking the various students of Mademoiselle Bustier’s former class. (The teacher had been dismissed after Bruce’s lawyers dug into the supposed reasons behind Marinette’s dismissal, but the reason for her departure wasn’t known to the student body.) It was ten minutes till their new teacher, Monsieur Clemont, would be beginning class and most of the kids were just milling about.

“WHAT!” Alya shrieked, nearly dropping the Lexpad Alix had handed her. On the screen was a news report from the Gotham Gazette that had been reposted like crazy across Parisian twitter. There was a cellphone photo displaying none other than Lady Noire, her claws out, slashing into Mr. Freeze with her Cataclysm. The article noted that Lady Noire hadn’t been seen since the defeat of Hawk Moth around a month ago, and that apparently the heroine had officially relocated to Gotham.

Alya was freaking out; how could a reporter like her have been scooped like this? True, while Lady Noire had granted her an interview in her early days, the feline heroine had kept the newbie reporter increasingly at arms length. Alya figured that was because the hero was relying on their mutual best friend, Lila, to pass her stories for the Ladyblog. (The sheer wrongness of this train of thought was perhaps the best testament to Alya’s lack of journalistic talent.)

The whole class was murmuring about the apparent relocation of one of their heroes to the states. Adrien and Alya in particular seemed shocked by this turn of events. The only exceptions were Chloe, who knew Lady Noire’s identity and why she had moved, and Lila, who’s mind was currently whirling to figure out how best to spin this development into her pre-existing narrative. The claim she’d used to make her initial big splash with the class, had been being best friends with the cat-based hero, so she couldn’t appear to be out of the loop.

“Oh yes, Noirey told me all about the move,” Lila began, drawing everyone’s attention back to her, where it belonged . “Apparently after defeating Hawkmoth, Batman himself invited her to help him take on Gotham’s crime problem. I’m probably going to go visit her over the summer.”

Lila’s sing-songy voice made Chloe want to bang her head on the desk. Chloe seriously thought there was a possibility Lila was some sort of low-level telepath, with how easily her lies were believed. Not even Marinette, in Lady Noire garb, stating to the class once that she wasn’t friends with Lila had dissuaded them. The deceptive girl had simply spun a tale of Lady Noire lying in order to protect her, and they were back to square one.

Alya pulled out a pen and pad and spun to her friend, “You’re going to Gotham to see Lady Noire?”

Lila nodded gracefully, “I’ll probably stay with the Waynes while I’m there.”

Alya was quickly making notes, “You know the Waynes?” The would-be reporter was amazed. Meanwhile, Chloe was considering how much trouble she’d get in if she tossed Lila into the Seine.

Lila shrugged nonchalantly, “Of course! My mother and Bruce travel in the same circles, you know? Stephanie Wayne is actually a dear friend of mine.”

The class burst into excited whispers again, before Clemont tapped the bell on his desk, quieting the class so he could take roll. Chloe couldn’t wait for news of Mari being a Wayne to break, so she could shove it in the fool’s faces. Maybe Mari could get her new sister to come along when she visited, so Stephanie could deny being Lila’s friend in person. From how Mari described the older girl in her texts, Chloe suspected the blonde would rip Lila a new one.

Chloe suppressed a sigh as Adrien answered present. The boy had become increasingly sullen and withdrawn since his father’s arrest, which Chloe thought was understandable. While Adrien wasn’t implicated in his father’s crimes, the stigma still followed him somewhat. She’d tried reaching out to her childhood friend but so far been unsuccessful. Not that she’d been particularly close to the boy since Mari had let slip some of his dumbassery as Bugboy; considering Marinette’s general unwillingness to speak badly of anyone, Chloe suspected what she’d mentioned must have been the tip of the iceberg. That said, he was still her oldest friend so she’d tried to make an honest effort.

Unfortunately, the boy had rebuffed her and now spent most of his time in the company of none other than Lila Rossi. Lila had spun a tale of the two of them being the true victims of Hawkmoth, deceived by the formerly beloved fashion designer. In Adrien’s case there was some truth to that claim, but Chloe suspected Lila might have known something of the true nature of the man she interned for. Just this week, Lila had breathlessly announced that her and “Adriekins'' were now a couple and Chloe just couldn’t even.

She’d taken to pretty much writing off anyone who continued to fall for Lila’s lies despite the mounds of readily available evidence that pointed to her being the most compulsive liar since the proverbial serpent. If Adrien, who absolutely should know better, decided to fall in with the girl at this point, Chloe saw little point in continuing to invest her time and energy in the boy.

Of course this policy had left her fairly socially isolated from the remainder of the class, especially with Marinette no longer there. Having been the only one besides Marinette not to fall for her lies in the first place, Lila had steadily worked towards icing out the former queen bee just as she had the former class president. Chloe could say one thing in Lila’s favor, as terrible as her deceit was, it had proved the catalyst for her to grow closer to Marinette and discover her real best friend. The blonde could still remember the bittersweet day the two had found themselves trying not to cry in the same cafe after class. She wished she could have spared Mari the pain Lila brought, but Chloe wouldn’t trade her relationship with Marinette for all the gems in the world. 

The one time miraculous holder took a deep calming breath; she just had to get through two more weeks and school would finally be done. It would be time for break and she could go see Mari in Gotham; her father would be busy, like usual, so she’d have pretty much free reign to do what she wanted as long as she didn’t cause him any embarrassment. 

‘Just two more weeks and then no more Lila. Maybe I can get a transfer to a different school before classes resume?’ Chloe mused.

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Wayne Manor, After the Ice Rink Incident

The Batplane pulled into the disguised hangar of the Batcave, incredibly quiet for a machine of that size. Mari was sitting in the back next to Selina, leaning her head on the older woman’s shoulder. It had surprised her when Selina put her arm around her and pulled her close, but she couldn’t deny she felt warm and fuzzy inside from the affection. It occurred to Mari that she really wasn’t used to being fussed over. While her pride made her want to push off the concern, she couldn’t deny the physical comfort felt incredibly nice. 

As the plane hovered down to a stop, Mari went to get up and noticed something. There was a grease smudge on her sweater from when she’d rolled into the Batplane while her costume was disappearing. Mari immediately panicked, “I’m so sorry! I’ll replace it, I swear!” She could tell the fabric was expensive. Maybe she could get a dayjob or something…

Selina was confused at Marinette’s sudden fear, and looked down to see what was bothering her, only seeing a tiny stain on her sweater. Her instinct was to chuckle, but she could tell Mari was genuinely worried, so she just placed a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “It’s absolutely fine, kitten. Stains are bound to happen in our line of work. We needed to go buy you a full wardrobe for you anyways; Stephanie, Harper and I only picked you up a week's worth of outfits to start, so you could choose things to your own liking.”

Marinette was doing an admirable impression of a gaping fish; a whole wardrobe, just for her? Sabine had always complained so much about how much new clothes cost as Mari grew. It had been part of what led her to trying sewing; she could make pieces last longer if she could modify and repair them herself. Purchasing an entirely new wardrobe of her own choice seemed incomprehensibly luxurious. “Th-thank you!” She stuttered. 

Duke, who had pulled his Gold Bat helmet off, clapped her on the back as they exited the craft; Tim and Jason were having a hushed conversation behind them. “Don’t worry, sis, you’ll get used to living with crazy, rich people eventually.” That had been the biggest culture shock for Duke, moving from the Narrows out to Wayne Manor. He would have found the Wayne wealth off putting if he didn’t personally know how much his folks put into charity; in a way Bruce had paid for his entire education, since he’d been on a Wayne Scholarship to Gotham Academy, before he was adopted.

Selina rolled her eyes and ruffled Duke’s hair; “As if you’re not one of us.” It was true, in addition to a generous allowance, each of the Wayne children had a trust fund underwritten by 1% of Wayne Enterprises stock. Bruce had actually been at the office with the lawyers to set the same up for Marinette that day. Collectively the Waynes owned 63% of Wayne Enterprises, divided between the children’s 12% and the rest belonging to Bruce and Selina. Lucius Fox owned an additional 10%, while Kate controlled another 12% through various shell companies, just as Bruce controlled a portion of Kane Consolidated. It was something the cousins had set up early on; each posed as a mysterious contrary stock holder for the other’s company. That way, if anyone had a scheme to usurp them, the first person they’d talk to would actually be their cousin.

The four of them made their way up the hidden elevator and into the main foyer; Marinette found herself almost immediately tackled by a dark haired bullet. Cass was hugging her tightly. The older girl was a bit flustered. She released Mari and started signing at her.

‘ I really need to learn that,’ Mari thought helplessly, before Selina came to her rescue, “She’s saying she was worried about you and is glad you’re okay.” Mari nodded gratefully and turned back to Cass. “I’m glad you’re okay too. How’s Kara?”

Cass scowled slightly, hating those rare times when Kara was hurt, before responding, “Bullet hurt, but okay now.” Cass signed the letter K to indicate the kryptonite. “At home, watching Stitch!” Cass smiled at that, and showed Mari a little video on her phone of a bandaged Kara sleepily waving from the Kent couch.

Lilo and Stitch was the favorite movie of both Cass and Kara and was probably shown at least weekly in both Wayne Manor and the Kent Condo. It was fair to say both girls saw themselves in the titular Stitch. Kara loved the film because it was about an alien, who everyone thought was scary at first, finding a home and a family on earth. Cass loved it because it was about somebody created to be a weapon, getting to choose to be something else. 

Mari breathed a sigh of relief; she was still confused about how Supergirl could have been hurt by a bullet, but she could get details later. She was about to ask Cass about something else, when Alfred called from down the hall, “Mistress Selina, Mistress Marinette, Mistress Cassandra, Master Duke, Master Timothy, Master Jason, would you please join us in the den?”

Mari was confused why the butler needed them, but followed along into the surprisingly cozy den; there was a large fireplace in the corner, unlit during the summer, and an eclectic variety of plush armchairs, sofas and even a rather out of place purple bean bag currently occupied by Stephanie. When she entered the room, she saw most of her new family, save Barbara, alongside someone she’d yet to meet. She had to resist the urge to stare at the girl next to Dick, because she was well… orange! The statuesque woman was smiling widely as she chatted with Bruce and Dick, her inhumanly emerald eyes shining. Mari forced herself to shift her attention back to the butler. 

Alfred, standing next to a gleaming dining cart, grinned slightly,“I thought, after a harrowing day, the best thing for it is a spot of something sweet.” He held out spoons for everyone, “Who would like some ice cream?”

Most of the family flew into motion, grabbing spoons and seats. They were well accustomed to Alfred’s habit of serving a special dessert when one of them had a particularly rough day. Mari was a bit surprised, but quickly found herself, spoon in hand sitting on a leather couch between Selina and the orange girl. (Selina was feeling protective after the incident with Freeze, and hadn’t actually let Mari out of arm’s length since she pulled her onto the plane.)

“What flavor would you like, Mari?” Bruce asked from the armchair across from her. The man had bags under his eyes, but was still holding Helena in his lap with expert care. The dark haired little girl was currently trying to balance her tiny spoon on her nose and it was only Bruce’s quick reflexes that had stopped it from clattering to the floor countless times by now. 

Mari didn’t want to be a bother, “Whatever everyone else is having is fine.”

Bruce chuckled, as Alfred started bringing out the dishes, “That would be quite a few scoops. Everyone is quite particular about their favorites.” As Mari looked around, she noticed that everyone seemed to be having a different flavor. Bruce had Vanilla, while Selina was having Strawberry and Cass was already demolishing a bowl of Butter Pecan. 

Dick smiled at his father, “Yeah, for instance, I just love Superman ice cream; you can really taste the heroism.” Bruce rolled his eyes; he had no clue why Dick had chosen his favorite flavor at him but he was well used to it by now. He jiggled Helena on his knee, “Well what flavor do you want, Helena?”

“Baman! Baman!” Helena giggled, and Bruce shot a triumphant look at his eldest son. 

All three members of the JLA big three, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman had had ice cream flavors named for them, and it annoyed Bruce to no end that Dick had chosen Superman as his favorite. (The fact that it was essentially vanilla and thus the same as Bruce’s seemed to escape their notice.)

Selina rubbed Mari’s back, “Anything you’d like is fine, darling.”

“Uh, if it’s not too much trouble then, Neapolitan?” Mari asked in a quiet voice. It was a rare treat she had always liked but rarely had. She felt like the words were barely out of her mouth when a bowl of the same, scooped so all three flavors were present in each scoop, was plopped in front of her.

“A most wondrous choice, sister Mari!” The orange girl to her left proclaimed, while digging into her own bowl of Birthday Cake ice cream. Mari’s mind screeched to a halt, and she croaked “Sister?” She thought she had met all the other Wayne children and certainly felt she’d remember meeting this girl.

The girl nodded happily, her red hair dancing like it though gravity was merely a suggestion. “You are being the newest sibling of my Mate-Richard, therefore we are sisters, no?” The girl tilted her head like an adorable puppy as she finished on a question. She extended a hand for Mari to shake, “I am Kori’andr, also known as Starfire, but you may call me Kori!”

Mari shook the girl’s hand as she rapidly put things together; she’d vaguely heard of the Tamaranian heroine Starfire before, and supposed after Cass and Kara, it wasn’t out of the question another of her new siblings would be dating an alien. She was quickly discovering she needed a new baseline for what was considered weird in her life.  “I’m Marinette, it’s very nice to meet you. I - uh, heard you do good work with the Titans.” 

“I know, isn’t she the best?” Dick asked while leaning in to kiss Kori on the cheek. Before Mari could comment, three spoons came flying at Dick with deadly accuracy; Dick caught Stephanie’s and Cass’s but Jason’s smacked him right between the eyes.

“Boo! Stop being mushy!” Jason demanded. “Yeah, stop rubbing your happy coupleyness in our faces, bro,” Stephanie interjected. Cass nodded in agreement. “Okay, A, I'm the oldest, so I’m allowed to be as mushy as I want to. B., how are all of you already done with your ice cream? And C., Cass why are you mad,” Dick sputtered, “you have a girlfriend!?”

“Kara’s not here, though,” Cass responded. “Very sad,” Cass mimed crying tears and Stephanie patted her back theatrically while shooting a glare at Dick. “Look what you did!”

Tim rolled his eyes and turned to Marinette, “Apologies for our siblings’ antics. I wish I could say this was unusual.”

‘ Our siblings…’ Mari reflected, as the delicious swirl of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate danced across her taste buds and the good natured squabbling continued around her. These weren’t just Tim’s brothers and sisters, they were hers too; the notion made a foreign feeling of giddiness bubble up in her chest. The sense of family just radiated from everyone around her in a way she’d never experienced before. In spite of their wildly different backgrounds, they all belonged there, and maybe, just maybe, she did too. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hotel Near the Florida Everglades, That Night

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAGH-

Harley awoke in a cold sweat, her body rattling with shakes as she fought the rising panic in her chest. Images of bleached white skin, rictus grins, death, pain and depravity flashed through her mind and she had to fight to keep herself from hyperventilating. The flashbacks threatened to overwhelm her until she felt a soothing hand gently stroking her shoulder; her eyes snapped into focus and the concerned face of her wife, Ivy, swam into view.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, breathe with me,” Ivy instructed in an even tone. For unfortunate reasons, both of them were well accustomed to helping their spouse get through panic attacks. ‘ In and out, in and out’ Harley repeated to herself as her breathing slowly steadied. Over the years since her sanity had been restored to her, the visceral flashbacks of her time under the Joker’s thrall had diminished but would likely never fully fade.

The demented clown had forever scarred her, but Harley was nothing if not a survivor. She’d survived growing up in the slums of Burnside, earned a magnet placement to Gotham Academy, before riding onward to premed at Gotham U on a gymnastics scholarship. She was never someone to back down from a challenge, and that was the reason she chose to take a position as a psychiatrist at Arkham following her residency.

Unfortunately that was when she unknowingly fell into the Joker’s clutches. She likely wasn’t his original intended victim, but the mad man was a skilled opportunist. It was actually something of an ingeniously insidious plan; the Joker had surgically implanted a device that slowly released a modified low dosage version of his Joker Venom whenever he exhaled, quite literally turning his words into poison. The criminal was deranged but also a brilliant chemist and his signature poison reflected this.

Joker Venom came in dozens of varieties but could broadly be divided into two broader categories. The first was a fast acting poison that typically killed its victims within minutes of exposure, and caused their faces to contort into a hellish grin in death. The second variety, while not as lethal, was no less dangerous as it instead was designed to drive its victims into a Joker like mania, Jokerizing them as it were. It was that second kind that had infected her and forever changed the course of her life.

She still could dimly recall Bruce (who would have thought her broody friend from highschool would become a literal superhero?) explaining what he had pieced together to her as she lay on the medical bed in the Cave, still going through withdrawal symptoms as the cure they’d synthesized purged the remainder of the toxin from her body. They suspected the mad clown’s original plan had been to simply Jokerize the whole of Arkham over time, but for some reason he had fixated on Harley, either because she seemed resistant to the poison, or just because she was one of the few people in Arkham with hope.

It had taken months of increasingly long sessions for her to succumb to the madness inducing vapor he was spewing from his lips, but she’d fallen victim eventually. As a quirk of biology, she was naturally resistant to the madness inducing toxin, but it was a double edged sword. Unlike most victims of the second category of gas, her body didn’t naturally purge itself of the venom, and it continued to build up in her system like black mold, slowly corrupting her. It had been that realization, that she was under the long term effects of standard Jokerizing venom that wasn’t wearing off, rather than some unique poison, that led to Bruce developing her cure.

As it turns out she was a Meta human, with her principal abilities being a minor healing factor, and increased strength and flexibility (which was likely the only reason she’d survived years as the Joker’s ‘girlfriend’.) Her healing factor interacted poorly with the poison, and voila she spent years as the chief henchman of the worst villain to ever plague Gotham. 

Harley was brought out of her nightmares by the calm voice and gentler touch of her wife, Ivy. Born Pamela Isely, Ivy had gone through trauma remarkably similar to Harley’s. As a grad student, she’d been one of many subjected to the experiments of Jason Woodrue, better known as the Floronic Man, being the only one to survive, transforming into the villainess Poison Ivy. Woodrue’s serum had given her a connection to the Green, the semi-mystical energy field that permeated plant life, but had also driven her to madness. Effectively it had induced severe bipolarity, megalomania and psychopathy in her that persisted until she was cured in the same year as Harley. The women had already been close even as villains, acting as a stabilizing influence for each other, and during their recovery that friendship had blossomed into love.

After they were cured, Selina and Bruce had set the two up with new identities;  while some might understand they weren’t in their right minds when they commited, much of the public would have been out for blood. So, with some forged birth certificates and an image inducer to disguise Ivy’s green skin, Harleen Quinzel and Pamela Isely had become Harley and Ivy Blackthorne by day, and eventually, after their recovery, the heroes Mockingbird and Black Orchid by night. 

“I’ve got you, darling, I’ve always got you,” Ivy murmured as she held Harley close. Harley felt the usual rush of embarrassment that tended to accompany her panic attacks but she relaxed nonetheless. If she were her own patient she’d be telling herself there was nothing to be ashamed of, but doctors weren’t always the best at following their own prescriptions. She was privately glad their daughter, Rose, was in a separate hotel room, so she wouldn’t be awoken.

Rose, born Rose Wilson, had been a surprise for the couple. While in recovery, they’d compiled a list of information they had from their time as villains that they or the Bats could act upon, and near the top of their list was Deathstroke's daughter. They’d rescued the then eleven year old from her ‘training’ (abuse) as one of their first missions. It had been a somewhat harrowing adventure but ultimately successful; they’d managed to convince the girl she deserved better than the life her father was forcing her into and managed to extricate her from it without any of the three of them dying.

At the time Harley had thought Rose might be added to Bruce and Selina’s rapidly growing horde of adopted children, but by the end of the mission the trio realized they wouldn’t be parting anytime soon. Harley had worried whether she was capable of being a mother given her own damage, but as she held an unconscious Rose on that speedboat, sharks strapped with C-4 exploding in their wake, she realized she wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. 

“Bad dream?” Ivy asked while leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. The couple was currently staying in an (in Ivy’s opinion) ludicrously overpriced hotel on the outskirts of Orlando. They’d nominally come down to investigate some suspicious reports coming out of the Everglades, but, after Orchid and Mockingbird had apprehended the chemical dumpers responsible, it had actually been a rather nice vacation. They’d started with a tour of the national park for the botanist, before Harley had basically marched the family through all the major theme parks. Ivy wasn’t much one for Disney, but found her wife’s enthusiasm incredibly cute. (Rose for her part just put up with her mothers making googly eyes at each other and focused on enjoying the rides.)

Harley shot her a wry smile as she sat up, “what gave me away?” Harley had fought hard to reclaim laughter and joy after the Joker; she refused to let the memory of the monster poison her love for life. 

“You want to talk about it?” Ivy asked.

“Nah,” Harley replied, “Wasn’t anything specific this time, just your run of the mill clown horror show.”

Ivy rolled her eyes, “you’re deflecting, dear.”

Harley let out a long sigh, “I know….” She took a moment to compose herself, “it really wasn’t anything specific, just his laughing and some flashes of the time we rigged the Gotham Blimp to explode. Honestly, as far as it goes it’s not the worst memory guilt-wise; Selina managed to cut the wire in time.”

Ivy leaned in and kissed her softly on the temple before murmuring, “you don’t deserve any of those memories Harls, not one.” Harley felt the remaining tension finally leech out of her body and she relaxed against her wife’s side.

“You ever wonder what normal couples talk about in the middle of the night?” Harley joked.

Ivy smirked before closing her eyes and leaning back on the bed, “they probably just sleep dear. I say we try to emulate them.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Manor, That Night

Bruce was leaning back in his bed, taking the rare moment to read the book Alfred had gotten him for his birthday. It was a typically Dickensian selection from his butler, Great Expectations. 

He’d spent most of the day after the ice rink incident down in the cave looking over the kryptonite bullet with Clark. The radioactive mineral was ludicrously expensive making Killshot casually having even one on hand when he had no reason to suspect he’d be confronting a Kryptonian highly unusual. Additionally the bullet itself was oddly regular on a microscopic level, lacking the usual irregular crystalline pattern found in most samples. Cursory interrogation of the assassin had proved a dead end as he refused to talk; Bruce had briefly considered asking Diana to use her lasso but then again, the artifact could only force someone to tell the truth, not compel them to speak.

It was a genuine puzzle, but solving it would likely be a long-term project, so they’d let it rest for the day. Even still, his thoughts kept shifting to this newest case as his eyes glazed over the words on the page.

“Enjoying the book, Bat?”

Bruce looked up to see his wife standing in their doorway; she’d changed from her Catwoman garb (She’d gone back out that evening to interrogate Freeze at Arkham), into a dark green set of silk pajamas, her long dark hair still wet from the shower. Even after over a decade together, she was still the most beautiful woman Bruce had ever laid eyes on. Selina sauntered over to their king bed and snuggled up to his side. They sat there for a moment, just content to be in each other's company. It was a simple joy neither once imagined possible for them.

Still, it turned out Bruce wasn’t the only one preoccupied with the events of the day. “We shouldn’t have let her out in Gotham before she’d gotten the safety lecture.” Selina said quietly.

Bruce sighed, “I know, I just didn’t want her feeling like a prisoner here. I’m trying to give her space but I’m not entirely sure that’s what she needs. You think I’d have this figured out by now.”

“They’re all different Bruce, you have to figure each one out on their own terms,” Selina began, “That said, she’s not too different from how Tim was.” When Tim had first arrived at the Wayne household, (or rather in the Bat Cave, since the boy had deduced its existence and location along with their identities by the time he was eight,) he’d presented himself as an asset in the Batman’s war on crime rather than the neglected child he was. Despite being all of eight, he’d tried to act like an adult in a business negotiation. It didn’t help that Tim was ludicrously smart; Bruce was quietly confident that he’d be handing the title of world’s greatest detective over to his son by the end of the decade, once Tim had the experience to match his talent. 

Tim was brilliant and incredibly eager to help, but almost incapable of advocating for himself or acknowledging the deficiencies in his upbringing. It had been a long road to get him to understand that he wasn’t inherently a bother just for existing, and that a family should want him around. Selina could still remember her visceral instinct to go claw out Jack Drake’s throat the first time she heard the obviously poorly nourished little eight year old parrot the phrase, ‘children should be seldom seen and never heard.’

Selina and Bruce, after overcoming the shock of the tiny boy just showing up in the Batcave one evening and finding out about Tim’s living conditions (who leaves a child home alone for months, starting at age 4?) , had quickly decided the boy would not be returning to the Drake household. A rather long legal saga with Jack Drake later, involving international drug smuggling and the theft of historical artifacts, and the Waynes had their newest son. Still, the marks of his early neglect had taken a long time to fade with Tim, and he still had a tendency to dismiss his own worth and needs. Unfortunately, so far it seemed Marinette was rather similar, although hopefully not quite so severe.

“What she needs is to really feel that she has a family now,” Selina decided. “I don’t want to overwhelm her, but if she’s like Timmy, she’s going to need constant affirmation that she’s not on her own anymore, reminders that she’s wanted . ” Selina was emphatic with the last statement. Left unsaid was Selina’s need for Marinette to know she was hers; the french heroine was her new kitten and woe betide any fool who dared to hurt her. The Cat could be extremely protective when it came to her children.

Bruce understood his wife’s unspoken sentiment and nodded, “Agreed. Luckily I think her siblings have taken the lead on that. I heard Dick’s scheduled a bowling expedition.” The parents shared a sly smile at that; their eldest was a very enthusiastic, but surprisingly terrible bowler. “I’ve also scheduled a full physical for her with Leslie in two days. Her last official medical check was well over a year ago.”

“Good, I’m worried she wasn’t eating enough back in France,” Selina muttered. “I’ve still half a mind to grab my whip and take the Batplane to Paris to punish those people she was living with.” Selina was seething mad at the Dupain-Chengs; she could see how Marinette was constantly apologizing and putting herself down, and she knew that was likely a learned behavior from a young age. The girl didn’t even feel comfortable asking for her favorite flavor of ice cream for Athena’s sake! 

Selina took a deep breath to calm herself, getting angry wouldn’t help Mari now. After a moment, a slight grin spread across her face. “I will say, she fought excellently today. Even Cass was impressed.”

Bruised looked contemplative for a moment before responding, “yes, while she could always use refinement, I’m not overly worried about her in a fight. She might even have more experience in combat than Tim or Steph from her time in Paris, even if she lacks formal training. Her deductive skills are good too, just lacking experience and forensics training. She does need to learn the technological side of things, basic wiring, hacking, and of course her escapology will need to be asse-”

“Shhhh” Selina shushed Bruce before he went too far off on a tangent, “we can talk to her about a training diet later. She’s eager to improve but we don’t want her to become too consumed in the cape life that she forgets to be Marinette.”

Bruce smiled sleepily as time caught up with him, “you’re right, we’ll talk to her about it later, and let her set the pace.”

“Just looking out for our newest kitten,” Selina drawled.

“A lioness always protects her cubs.” Bruce murmured sleepily. Between an essential board meeting, training with Jason, and the case he was working on the previous night, he’d been up for 28 hours at this point. It wasn’t unusual for him to keep such long hours, but he was trying to be better, if for no other reason to set a better example for Tim, who seemed to be following in his footsteps vis a vis his unhealthy reliance on caffeine. 

Bruce was just about to drift off to sleep when Selina shifted positions, putting herself atop him as she straddled him. Deep emerald green eyes gazed into lapis lazuli blue. She drew a finger lazily down his bare chest as she purred “Going to sleep already, Bat?”

Bruce’s eyes snapped back awake. He could wait another hour to go to sleep, or two.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Metropolis, The Next Evening

Lex stood looking out at his panoramic view of Metropolis from atop Lexcorp Tower. It was currently the tallest building on earth and it crowned the city skyline. He should be standing at the pinnacle of his world, but a maddening alien annoyance so often floated above him, mocking his achievement, his humanity. Most enraging, his fellow men failed to see the xeno menace for the invasive species it represented, for the infestation it was. First one, then the female, and now the two younger ones; it was like a growing infection. They saw the creatures garbed in bright primary colors, and like sheep fell under their spell.

“Screen,” with a single word, Lex’s windows tinted in such a way that they were impervious to all forms of x-ray vision and simultaneously made the room perfectly soundproof. He’d checked. Strenuously. It may seem like overkill, but someone in his position couldn’t afford to be complacent. Luthors were conquerors, carnivores, kings among men, and a ruler must always be weary of the dagger at his back.

Lex sat at his desk and drummed his fingers as he awaited his next appointment; the Luthor family ring, his father’s ring, made a satisfying thunk on the glass. Lex wasn’t accustomed to waiting on others, but unfortunately there were certain metaphysical constraints that would prevent his associate from joining him until night had truly fallen. Honestly he found these hocus pocus types dreadfully annoying. However, to accomplish his goal, Lex had realized he’d have to delve into certain powers some considered unnatural. 

The beginning strokes of his masterpiece had already begun; it was early days, but he’d come to realize routing the alien from his planet would require not a battle, but a campaign. And like a general, he’d begun to marshall his forces martial. He’d systematically dismantle and distract the alien’s allies and supporters, until it stood alone before the unleashed genius of a Luthor. Perhaps most important would be the neutralization of the irksome Bats of Gotham. Fox’s men had proved to be exemplary examples of human tenacity, but they had tragically pledged their support for the invaders; Luthor reasoned that history would come to remember them as quislings.

While he had yet to determine the identities of the doubtless many men and women who were under the masks, it hadn’t been hard to deduce that they were funded by Wayne Enterprises. Just as it hadn’t been difficult to realize that Lucius Fox was the true mastermind behind that organization. Lex had to hand it to his adversary, it was a clever ruse, positioning himself in a nominally subservient position to rule from the shadows. Brucie Wayne had proved the perfect figure head and Lex casually wondered if Fox had arranged the murder of the fool’s parents so he could seize control. Lex’s pride would never allow him to do the same, but he could see the merit in the man’s approach, even if he couldn’t fathom why an otherwise intelligent man like Lucius would support the alien.

Lex was shaken from his ruminations by a burst of smoke and brimstone in the center of his office, just as the sun set below the horizon. ‘ Speaking of Bats’ Lex mused.

“Good evening, Gustav.” Lex greeted the figure emerging from the smoke, as he handed a wine glass full of blood to his guest. Gustav Decobra appeared as a gentleman of the 19th century, in a long black suit with a white ruffled collar, and a blue cloak thrown over it. His face was aristocratic, with bushy sideburns, and the only thing that disrupted the look were the man’s noticeably elongated fangs.

“Good evening, Alexander.” The vampiric doctor spoke formally as he took the proffered blood. Crossing dimensions always took it out of him, so he appreciated Lex sourcing some refreshment for him. Without it, the urge to feed on Luthor would be irksome, as he wasn’t allowed to drain the man while his master still had use for the industrialist.

Lex had initially balked at pursuing mysticism, but as his efforts to expunge the alien met with failure time and again, he was forced to reconsider his position. Magic had proven the only reliable weapon against the invader, save kryptonite or overwhelming force, and Lex had never backed away from a challenge. What was magic, but phenomena that science had yet to understand and systemize. Properly approached, it was simply a new world for him to conquer.

Unfortunately, just as he was incompatible for the metagene, he proved to have no natural aptitude for magic. However, that was merely a minor setback for a mind and will such as his. Afterall, there were various entities willing to trade that power for certain considerations, and Luthor was a consummate dealmaker. His current partners should prove to be rather useful in eliminating the alien and his hangers on. He had every intention of double crossing them eventually, but for the moment their goals were aligned. 

“How goes the endeavor?” Despite two centuries of existence, Gustav had never quite shaken the speech patterns of his origin in the late 18th century. It was one of the many things Lex found disappointing in the so-called ultimate predator. A true predator adapted.

“We’re progressing well on sites 1,3,4,7 and 9 and of course your people have site 10 already completed. They should be ready well in time for the alignment. I’ve entered into negotiations with Black Manta for help in securing site 2; he’s a hot head but there are few better versed on Atlantean ruins.” Luthor explained as he drank his own bourbon.

“Yes, he’s also liable to attract the Atlantean king’s attention,” Gustav grumbled as he took his own seat opposite Lex’s desk. Lex waved him off, “It’ll be fine. I’m sure once I offer to refurbish the Manta Flier with the Thanagarian Nth metal tech we acquired after the invasion, he’ll be happy to seize the site quietly.” While the Thanagarians, who had launched an attempted invasion four years previously, were also alien scum, he had to admit they had an honesty of purpose. They had called their invasion what it was and Lex could respect that. “The sixth and eighth locations are both primed for our takeover as well. Ras controls the sixth site but the man has always been amenable to a good deal; I’m sure our negotiations there will meet with success, and our mole on the Justice League should secure us the eighth site with little difficulty when we give the go ahead.”

“The fifth ritual locus?” Gustav asked.

Lex’s face hardened a bit, “It’s proving a more difficult acquisition.” Lex hated to admit failure of any sort, but he suspected Decobra’s master was already aware of the troubles he’d run into. “Our attempts to acquire the necessary property in Gotham have been hampered so far.” In order to avoid getting Fox’s attention, Lex was moving very slowly in his buying up of the necessary real estate in Gotham. If he attracted the attention of Wayne Enterprises, they could pretty easily keep him from getting the land he needed, particularly because they owned some of the properties through a subsidiary. Now, Lex had a man at WE who was willing to take a bribe and rubber stamp the sale, but he needed to get Lucius’ focus elsewhere before he tried it.

“Gotham,” Gustav muttered. The vampire did not have a good history with the place. After being imprisoned in a coffin beneath a sunlamp in the early 20th century, he’d finally been freed when the old estate he was in was refurbished and the lamp deactivated ten years back. Unfortunately his second reign of terror was short lived, as Batwoman had caught him within the first two nights of his release. She’d even managed to stake his hidden heart, leading him to his current servitude at the hands of the mystic who’d snared his essence from the aether before it could fully dissipate.

“Yes, a most unpleasant city, but unfortunately necessary. However, there’s been a stroke of luck on that front.” Lex began. “I’ve stumbled on a useful pawn with which to decimate our adversaries in Gotham. It will require minimal involvement from us, we need merely arm her and then let the chaos unfold.” Lex continued, he’d discovered the girl already planning her assault on the Gotham vigilantes and decided to provide certain resources to improve her chances. “I’ve put together a plan for the weapon’s extraction. However the items in question are mystical in origin, so I would like one of your people to direct our associate in their use.”

Decobra sneered a little, “The church’s soldiers are not yours to do with as you please, Alexander. What do you offer in return?”

“A better chance of success in our ultimate endeavor. For one, we need the ritual site for the plan to succeed, and for another, you know as well as I that the Bats will prove a continued thorn in our side if they’re not dealt with. This way will allow us to accomplish both goals with a minimal expenditure of resources on both our parts.” Lex cooly replied. These smoke and brimstone types were always looking for an angle, but he’d dealt with far more cunning opponents in the corporate world.

Gutsav nodded grudgingly, “I’ll take your offer to my lord; I’m sure someone could be spared to facilitate such a thing.”

“Thank you, Gustav, that’s very kind of you,” Lex drawled sardonically. 

Gustav sloshed the blood in his goblet around, “Well I believe that covers the main business, my good man. As to the other matter…”

“Ah yes, the other matter…” Lex replied slowly

“We have provided the enchanted emeralds you desired, but now you must fulfill your end of the bargain.” The emeralds in question were quite important to Lex, as they were essentially magically conjured kryptonite. The actual radioactive pieces of Krypton were exceedingly rare and attempts to make a synthetic alternative were mixed at best. However, Lex’s partner apparently had an associate who was able to reproduce any gem or crystal for a price. One sample of the rock had become the three tons of it in Lex’s possession; he’d been a bit doubtful of the magically created version’s efficacy, but reports had come in that the portion he’d allowed out onto the street had proved effective on the female alien.

“I’m very appreciative, as I’ve said, for the stones,” Lex answered. “It will be quite essential for making sure our mutual endeavor goes off without a hitch.” Leaking kryptonite weapons onto the streets would be an excellent distraction for the alien, and the rest of it could be used to guard the sites while the ritual was in progress.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Luthor. My lord desires the child.”

Lex forced himself to keep a neutral expression, despite his mounting annoyance. “And we’re finding her. I’ve got my best men on the search. She’ll be in your hands before you know it.” The girl had seemed to vanish like a ghost some time ago, but Lex was confident she’d have to resurface eventually.

“I hope so, for your sake, Luthor.”

Both men found the other irritable but knew they needed one another until the ritual was complete. The two men shared a brief toast of blood and whiskey before Gustav disappeared again, to report to his master.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Barbara and Dinah’s Loft AKA The Clocktower

Babs grinned to herself as she put the finishing touches on her latest misinformation campaign, writing the last bit of copy her bots would begin disseminating across the web that evening. She was fairly proud of the story she’d put together, the legend of a great demonic dragon named Barbatos, who’d punished evildoers with hellfire since time immemorial. She’d planted articles on his cult’s activities in the region around Gotham dating back to colonial times, with a few vague allusions to a pre-existing Celtic order; Stephanie would be sneaking a few forged newspaper articles into certain physical archives to back up her electronic flimflam. One or two posts theorizing that the Bats were servants or avatars of Barbatos, and the conspiracy theorists would take it from there. It was, admittedly, one of her more bizarre inventions, but then again, the Greek gods turning out to be real tended to make people fairly credulous.

This was only the most recent of dozens of false stories relating to the Bats that she’d created or spread, arguing that the caped crusader was everything from an enhanced cyborg created by the government, to a living shadow unleashed by an ancient curse. She went through all the trouble for a very simple reason; it was the best way to protect her family. See, she’d figured out fairly early on that it was nearly impossible to prevent at least a few people from drawing a connection between the Bats and the Waynes. No matter how careful they were about keeping their secret identities, at least a few people would eventually put it together.

The key was to drown out any possibly correct speculation with so much noise that the truth was sufficiently obscured. When speculation about a Wayne/Bat connection was hidden amongst dozens if not hundreds of theories about who or what the Batfamily was, it simply was lost in the mix. Admittedly she may have gone a bit overboard (Even a fair portion of the League thought the Bats were in some way supernatural), but then again, a certain amount of paranoia was a Wayne family trait. Also, as Bruce pointed out, criminals were a cowardly and superstitious lot; they were more likely to fear you if they thought you were a literal bat demon than if they knew you were just a normal human. 

“Working hard?” a voice asked from behind her as Dinah leaned over the back of her chair to hug her. Golden hair intermingled with red as Barbara leaned back into the crook of her fiance’s neck and sighed contentedly. “Just finished actually, help me to the sofa?” Barbara murmured. Back when she’d first become paraplegic she’d been very reluctant about accepting help but nowadays it genuinely felt nice to be able to rely on the people who loved her. Dinah gently scooped her up and carried her to the couch, sitting down to spoon the eldest Wayne daughter while they cuddled. 

“How was the League meeting?” Barbara asked, and although she was turned away, she could feel Dinah rolling her eyes as she answered, “Fine, except I’m absolutely going to break Arrow’s arm if he keeps hitting on me.” Barbara could only giggle slightly at her fiance’s misfortune; working primarily behind the scenes as Oracle she hadn’t had to deal with Olliver Queen’s tendency to flirt with absolutely any woman he came in contact with. Dinah let out an exasperated sigh, “I’m serious Babs! If he keeps calling me pretty bird, his head’s going through a monitor!”

Barbara sobered quickly; as adorable as she found Dinah when she was angry, she didn’t want to see her genuinely upset. “Want me to talk to dad about it?” If one person seemed to scare Oliver into acting professionally, it was Bruce. “No,” Dinah replied, “I think I just need to talk to him privately and tell him, in no uncertain terms, I’m not interested. I don’t think he’s a bad guy, just absolutely rubbish at reading social cues.”

Barbara nodded, “if you say so.” The redhead trusted her partner’s judgment, but would absolutely destroy the archer if he failed to take the hint and she may or may not be planning to hack Queen’s car radio to play only ABBA at top volume regardless. Barbara was generally a kind and magnanimous person, but she could be downright petty when it came to protecting those she cared about.

“Dick and I are taking Mari bowling tomorrow, you in?” Babs asked, changing the subject. As one of the only Wayne kids living outside the manor, she was eager to get her chance to spend some time with her newest sister. Some outside observers had been skeptical of how quickly Babs had integrated with the Wayne family, considering she was already fifteen by the time she was adopted following her injury and the death of Jim Gordon, her first father, but to her it had felt perfectly natural. 

For one, she’d been going to the manor all the time ever since she was eight and became friends with Dick, who was her best friend before he was her brother. (Funnily enough something similar had happened with Tim and Stephanie.) Barbara was convinced her father had deduced Bruce’s identity and merely kept it to himself, and was probably glad for a safe place for her to go after school while he was at work. So, it perhaps wasn’t surprising that the Waynes had become a second family to her long before it was official. Selina especially had been the most consistent maternal figure in Babs’ life, considering her biological mother had died under mysterious circumstances when she was four and she’d never really bonded with her father’s second wife, Sarah Essen. 

So, even if she got weird looks and snide comments at galas, she was quite proud to call Bruce and Selina mom and dad, since they were just as much her parents as her first father in her mind. They were the ones who’d taken her in and protected her, healed her, after the worst day of her life; they were her family. 

‘My recently expanded family,’ Babs mused. Mari obviously had her own share of trauma, but the redhead was confident the girl had landed in the best place to help her overcome it.

“I should be done with my last patient by three. Uh, if I won’t be intruding on sibling time?” Dinah replied a bit hesitantly. Babs rolled over to stare up at Dinah, “Babe, we’re getting married. You’re joining the family; it’s impossible for you to be intruding.”

Dinah smiled, reassured. Having met them initially as a fellow hero, it was an odd sensation being let into the notoriously close knit Batfamily, but not an unpleasant one. “Sounds like a plan then.”

Babs smirked, “Seriously honey, my family likes you.” She pulled herself up closer to Dinah, their breasts bumping together as Babs leaned in closer. “Just not as much as I do,” she whispered before going in for the kiss. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Paris, Hotel Grand Paris

After two hours of crying, Chloe felt as though she’d finally run out of tears. Her day had started so normally, breakfast alone, enduring the continued idiocy of her classmates, alone, returning to her suite at the Hotel Le Grand Paris, alone. School had been its usual dismal affair since Marinette left (Sabrina was increasingly falling under Lila’s sway along with the rest,) When she returned home, she’d simply retreated to her room and begun her homework; her father wouldn’t be home till late as usual, and her mother was still abroad, as she had been for over a year this time. In truth the woman had been absent for more of Chloe’s childhood than she’d been present.

Later that evening, she’d gone over to talk to her father about maybe planning a trip to Gotham after school ended in two week’s time. She had been about to knock on his door, when the sound of raised voices stayed her hand; her mother, Audrey Bourgeois was on speaker phone, and didn’t sound happy.

“Why should I return for the remainder of the summer, Andre? I’m in the midst of prepping for the fall season; our agreement only covers two appearances a year, and we’re already booked for the holidays.”

Andre sighed heavily, “I understand that Audrey, but things have changed. With the Argeste arrest, I’m facing serious pushback from the constituency. I need to show stability, and having you here will help that.”

Audrey scoffed, “You mean having your wife there will make you look more like a family man, and help you downplay the rumors that Argeste was paying your tab as a wannabe playboy. I do read the tabloids, Andre.”

Chloe gaped, not entirely believing what she was hearing. 

Andre pinched the bridge of his nose, “Yes, but I think we agree that we both want me to keep my position? Having you and Chloe-”

“Ugh, I really don’t want to have to deal with the brat more than I have to,” Audrey whined.

“She’s our daughter-”

“Zoe’s my daughter. Chloe’s some orphan you bought off that crazy pink haired woman at the fertility clinic. Honestly, why you decided-”

Chloe didn’t hear the rest as she drifted away from the door and back to her room in something of a fugue state. That singular overheard conversation had shattered any lingering belief she’d had in Audrey’s affection for her. It hurt her to the core; so much of her life had been spent trying to earn the affection of the woman. She’d tried to emulate Audrey, imitating her elitist behavior in a vain attempt to earn some affection and attention from the only mother she’d known. If she could just be the absolute best, surely Audrey would love her. Chloe let out a wet scoff, the only thing that had accomplished was nearly driving her only true friend off before she could even get to know her.

It suddenly made a bleak kind of sense why Audrey was hardly ever involved in Chloe’s life, she wasn’t her mother, either biologically, or, apparently, emotionally. Now she was wracked with despair, and the only person she wanted to comfort her was an ocean away. She could text, but at the moment she was too inconsolate to compose a message.

She likely would have cried herself to sleep that night, had not something intervened. There was the sound of a soft bell chiming again and again in a simple, but beautiful rhythm. Chloe looked up from her pillow to see a purple glowing gem hanging in the air right in the middle of her room. Her mind immediately ran to the Kwami but this seemed different to her. Hesitantly she approached the gem; part of her knew she should get help but another larger part was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

The gem began to glow brighter as she stepped towards it, until a shimmering portal of amethyst sprung into existence in front of Chloe. Bright purple light flooded the room and surrounded Chloe in a mystical warmth, while the bells began to ring out like a symphony. She had a singular moment to be surprised before she was sucked into the portal, and out of the reality she’d known.

Chapter Text

Gotham City, Two Weeks Later, Thursday

‘ Y’know, when I woke up this morning, I really didn’t expect the robot apocalypse,’ Marinette dumbfoundedly thought to herself as she dodged back from the plunging arm of a machine that was currently trying to stab her with a spork dispenser. It rushed forward with its other arm, this one ending in a solid steel pepper grinder, that swung like a bat towards her head. “Can I pepper up your meal, today?”

Mari groaned at the pun and bent backwards to let the attack miss her, before spinning around, staff in hand. THUNK! With a powerful slam of her staff, Lady Noire sent one of the gaily coloured murderous automatons hurtling into the wall of the nearby alley. It tried to stand back up but a combination of poor design and the damage from the fight caused its legs to collapse under its own weight, sending it crashing downwards. The red and white painted hulk twitched and sparked, no longer able to stay upright. ‘ I can’t believe I thought Gotham was going to be LESS weird than Paris; there’s not even magic butterflies to explain this stuff.’ She thought ruefully.

“Have a Souptacular day!” it chirped in a tinny prerecorded voice, from the small speaker embedded in its chest, all the while trying to claw towards Mari with its one good arm. Behind her, further down the alley, Batgirl snapped a kick straight up in the air, popping another of the robot’s heads clean off at the joint. Stephanie jumped back from the now blind robot as it flailed around with its parmesan grater, simultaneously tossing a batarang with expert aim into the robot’s neck stump. The batarang flashed red quickly before detonating in a small explosion, fully breaking the machine’s inner workings and dropping it to the ground. 

Steph huffed in annoyance before rushing over to check on her little sister, quickly scanning the younger girl to make sure she wasn’t injured. Seeing only a few scrapes, she joined Mari in examining the fallen bots. 

Mari looked up to see her big sister hovering protectively over her; despite thinking she was being a bit overprotective, Mari felt a renewed flush of warmth at the obvious concern for her and her safety. That had been happening a lot the past two weeks. 

“You know, for killer robots, they built these things pretty flimsily,” Mari pondered, “they weren’t exactly tough to take down.”

They were rather bulky, primitive looking robots with roughly humanoid shapes, and their outer casing painted to look like a cartoony red version of a waiter’s uniform. One arm ended in a utensil dispenser or cheese grater and the other in a combination pepper, salt and mustard grinder. A large logo for Breadstick Palace adorned its chest. 

“I mean, I think I’d die of shame if we lost to something designed to grate cheap cheese,” Steph shot back with a slight smile. “Breadstick Palace isn’t exactly STAR labs.”

Breadstick Palace, a fast casual faux Italian chain restaurant, had in fact been the source of today’s calamity. After coming under fire in the press for the poor treatment of his restaurant wait staff, CEO Albert Falk, rather than increase wages or improve conditions, had instead announced a new initiative to replace the majority of his staff with robotic waiters. The twelve locations across Gotham were to be the pilot version of the scheme before it was rolled out nationwide and today was the day they came online. 

Unfortunately, the robotic staff were operational for all of twelve seconds before they began attacking patrons and fanning out through the city; the Bats had quickly responded and Oracle was currently dispatching them towards locations where the attacking automatons were sighted. This pair, which had been making their way towards Gotham General, were the third duo that Batgirl and Lady Noire had tackled so far.  

“That should be the last ones from the Burnley franchise, let’s regroup with Raptor and Red,” Steph said, taking command. Mari nodded and aimed her grapple gun in the same direction as Steph before the sisters fired them in concert. Mari had been training nearly constantly to learn how to use the gadget properly, and was starting to get the hang of how to determine secure anchor spots and how best to maintain altitude. She was still somewhat more comfortable traversing with her extending staff, but the bluenette was determined to master the grapple along with the other gadgets and weapons that adorned her new utility belt.

Soon the two were swooping through the air towards Otisburg utilizing a mixture of grapple swings, parkour, and acrobatics to dash across the rooftops. The skyline of Gotham, a city which frequently traded the title for the largest in the world with Tokyo and Metropolis, was still a foreign one to Mari but she was getting the hang of it. They were currently traversing the cramped aging neighborhoods of uptown, with its sprawling squat red brick buildings interspersed with a few taller modern structures that were slowly transforming the area, quite different from the endless soaring steel skyscrapers that dominated downtown and the financial district, or the gothic stone architecture of the Old Village. 

“Any word on why these pasta makers are suddenly going all murderbot?” Harper’s voice crackled in her earpiece. Mari and Steph landed next to Tim and Jason, atop a meat packing warehouse. Three more smashed Serverbots were scattered around them, with Raptor holding one of the heads; “I might have something,” Tim responded as he carefully extracted a circuit board from the head casing. 

“Recognize anything?” he asked while holding the circuit board up to the white lenses of his mask, knowing that his eldest sister was observing through the embedded cameras of his costume. 

“Give me just a minute…” Oracle replied over the comms as she ran the image through their database. “Bingo! The soldering pattern has a 95% correlation with the motherboards used by Toyman. Seems Schott’s branching out from Metropolis.”

Mari paid close attention, but wasn’t entirely sure who this Toyman was; she’d been reviewing the Bats’ rogue files, but there was only so much she could get through in two weeks. Tim rubbed his chin in thought, “general destruction’s not exactly Winslow’s MO though.”

Bruce’s voice cut in over the comms, “Likely an attempted distraction, a wide dispersal attack to occupy us while he goes after his real objective.” Marinette was coming to realize that despite Batman's taciturn reputation, Bruce was actually quite free with his advice when they were in the field. It made going in the field with him feel sort of like attending a school for vigilantes, and she now understood why a supposed loner, like Batman, ended up working with so many teams. 

“Wait, there’s a classic toy expo at the Cale hotel this weekend!” Harper chimed in, “Toyman’s probably robbing it while we’re spread thin across the city.” She and Nightwing were currently across town, taking down the bots that had descended on the Gotham docks. 

“Why do you just know that?” Red Bat asked, his voice slightly distorted by the mask of his costume. 

“Cause she’s totally planning on going to get a Doctor Who doll,” Carrie answered from the Cave where she was helping Barbara run comms. Marinette swore she could hear the younger redhead sticking out her tongue when she answered. While she was too young to be allowed in the field, she was allowed to help out around the Batcave. 

“Shut up! It’s an action figure,” Bluebird replied, clearly a little embarrassed. 

“Cut the cross chatter,” Bruce said, not wanting his daughters to devolve into bickering on the main line. “Batgirl, Noire, Red, Raptor, you’re the closest to the hotel, investigate the lead. Oracle, run a search for other potential targets, Stray, contact Superman and let him know Schott might be in play, Everyone else, stay on containment and damage control.”

There was a chorus of affirmative acknowledgments from the rest of the family, and soon Mari was swinging through the air again, following Jason towards the Cale, a new hotel that had recently gone up in the heart of oldtown, looking out of place amongst the older buildings surrounding it.

‘ Well I’ll say this for Gotham, it isn’t boring.’

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Salvatore’s Bar, Gotham Village, Same Time

BANG! The last of Maroni’s men fell to the ground, a bullet hole between the eyes. Holding the smoking gun was a tall muscular figure in a red mask. He was wearing dark pants, combat boots and a modified black tactical jacket that must be made of some sort of bulletproof fiber considering the man had shrugged off several shots from the mafiosos returning fire. So far his plan was right on schedule.

Most of the regular diners had fled the restaurant after the costumed man arrived and opened fire, but the Maroni’s had formed a defensive ring around Lorenzo Maroni. The five men now lay dead in a semi circle around the bespectacled Lorenzo, who was quaking in his boots as the man approached him.

“Wh-who are you?” Lorenzo squeaked. 

A distorted voice replied, “You can call me Red Hood. I’m here for the ledger.”

As much as Hood would enjoy toying with Lorenzo a bit, he needed to get his objective and get out. While things were going well so far, he couldn’t afford to dally. The longer he dragged things out, the more likely it was that a Bat would respond. As it was, he probably only had about five minutes before the GCPD arrived.

It had been laughably easy to get Toyman to distract the Bats for him. All he had needed to do was dangle a prize, in this case a mint condition first run Grey Ghost action figure, and then simply suggest a plan to seize it. Provide motivation and opportunity to create crime on demand, simple psychology. Poor Winslow had thought himself clever, getting Falk to pay for his robotic distractions, but in the end Toyman was the one dancing on Hood's strings. 

“What ledger?” Lorenzo asked. 

Hood cocked his pistol threateningly, “the ledger in your breast pocket, which you’ll be handing to me now if you want to not die in the next fifteen seconds.”

Salvatore’s was a known front for the Maroni crime family, but the real prize wasn’t the cash in the register or the drugs hidden in the floor safe. It was the slim black notebook Lorenzo was shakily handing over. The Maroni’s were a criminal enterprise in decline, steadily losing territory and prestige since the death of Lorenzo’s uncle Sal during the Holiday killings, but that’s what made them such an appealing target for his opening moves in Gotham. They were vulnerable, and they were old school; with the physical ledger now in his hands, he could easily launch a coup to take over the Maroni rackets.

With a final gunshot to drop Lorenzo to the ground, the Hood ducked out into the adjoining alley as the sound of sirens approached. A quick doffing of his helmet and he was able to blend in with the crowds of Gothamites fleeing from the nearby Breadstick Palace. His plan to gain control of Gotham’s organized crime would take time, but today was an auspicious beginning. Besides, he was prepared to be patient and methodical to achieve his revenge. Enjoy your peaceful days, sister mine, they won’t last forever.

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Wayne Town Car, Enroute to Robinson Park, the Next Morning

Bruce was aware of the slight awkwardness that permeated the silence hanging between him and his daughter as Alfred weaved their way through the Friday morning traffic. Marinette was fiddling with the hem of her green and black striped skirt nervously and hadn’t said much after he asked her to join him that morning over breakfast. 

He had observed Mari becoming increasingly at ease around her siblings but the French girl was still on edge around him, Selina and Alfred. He had to assume that was due to her dodgy history with parental figures; Tom and Sabine had become progressively disinterested in her as she got older and she’d learned not to trust adults to be consistent in their affection. He was hopeful today could be a step in the right direction. 

The elder Wayne had never been the best at expressing himself with words; not his true feelings at any rate. He could manipulate and lie with the best of them, trick people into spilling their deepest secrets or thoroughly pull the wool over the eyes of anyone looking too closely, but often found himself fumbling for words when he was being honest. Truth was, the gregarious Brucie Wayne was as much of a mask as the cowl of the Bat, and while Bruce was a skilled orator in either persona, he was surprisingly reticent when he was just himself. Not that he was just himself very often; he was almost always either being Brucie or Batman, it was safer that way, but with his family he had learned to put down his masks. 

He’d gotten better at being open with the people he cared about over the years, largely thanks to Selina’s help, but it was still a struggle. Eventually though, he’d realized he was better at showing affection through time and actions than with words, which was what brought them to the park today. 

For her part, Marinette was an absolute ball of stress, though she was doing her best not to show it. There were two main reasons for her distress. While things had been better in the Wayne household than she could have possibly hoped for, she was somewhat waiting for the other shoe to drop, and she was worried that would be happening around noon. Her existence couldn’t be kept secret forever, so the family would be breaking it with an interview by Lois Lane, who’d be arriving later that day. Selina and Bruce had assured her Lois was a friend and it wouldn’t be anything to worry about, but she couldn’t help but worry regardless.

She was going to be introduced as the newest Wayne and she just felt like such a fraud. All the other Wayne children were so impressive, so incredible, and she was just plain Marinette. Her new siblings were the kind of people who appeared on magazine covers, and she just wasn’t. Once the world could compare her to them, she was terrified they’d realize she didn’t belong in their perfect family. And she really wanted to belong. 

The other source of her worries was the person she’d normally be venting to about all of this, Chloe, who hadn’t been responding to her texts at all for the last two weeks. At first she’d written it off as Chloe being focused on exams or just busy in general, but she was starting to get worried. While the threat of the Akuma’s had ended, it wasn’t like Paris was suddenly free of mundane dangers and as the daughter of the mayor, Chloe made a prime target for something like kidnapping.

Well, then again, she’d been checking the news religiously and nothing like that had hit the papers, so maybe she was overreacting. For all she knew Chloe had just broken her phone, or gotten grounded or something. Still, she really wanted to hear from, or better yet, see her friend. She kept thinking about asking Bruce to use the zeta tube to visit Paris, but didn’t want to be any bother.

“You did good work yesterday; Jason was quite complimentary,” Bruce said, suddenly breaking the awkward silence of the town car. Marinette snapped her eyes back to him, and felt a small spark of pride in her chest. Even though she’d been working in concert with Jason, Stephanie and Tim, it had been her who made the blow that knocked out the power of Toyman’s mech suit.

“Merci, I mean, thank you,” she was improving at English rapidly, but still slipped back into her native tongue when she wasn’t thinking. Bruce smiled back encouragingly; while he often thought his pride in his children’s accomplishments was obvious, Selina pushed him to actually vocalize it. 

Soon, Alfred pulled the car up to the curb near the park, and stepped out to open the odor for its occupants. The butler had chosen to chauffeur the father and daughter today to give them a little more privacy than they would have had if a Wayne Enterprises driver was called. He’d wait with the car while the pair enjoyed their excursion. Bruce ducked to the pack to grab two parcels, before leading Mariette into the park.

Marinette was dressed in a dark green and black striped skirt, white leggings, dark boots, a black button up blouse and a light navy jacket. Her shopping expedition with Selina the previous week helped to fill up her new closet. Bruce was wearing a dark trench coat along with shades despite the cloudy weather. He was hoping not to be recognized or bothered at the park today. Lois’ interview with Marinette would be published in next Monday’s Planet and he wanted at least a little moment of peace before the paparazzi descended. 

In general the paparazzi, due in part to the Wayne’s team of lawyers and the general lack of scandal surrounding them, weren’t that interested in his kids and didn’t habitually follow them in the way they did him and Selina, but whenever a new member joined the Wayne family, you could count on the Gazette sending a few vultures to circle them for a couple of weeks. 

Eventually they reached a grassy hill overlooking the duck pond and Bruce pulled out the blue and yellow kites from their protective cases. To say Marinette had been flabbergasted when the Dark Knight asked if she wanted to go fly a kite with him would be an understatement, but nevertheless he was currently handing her the string of a well crafted canary yellow kite.

“We’ll need to get a bit of a run up for it to catch, but the wind’s good for it today, so I think it should fly nicely,” Bruce explained, holding the kite while Mari took the spindle. After a little trial and error, they had both kites dancing in the breeze, while ducks cheerfully honked around them. They weren’t the only people enjoying the park by any stretch, but it felt like a personal peaceful moment.

“What, uh, made you want to do this today?” Mari hesitantly asked after a moment. It was nice, but she was struggling to see the purpose in it and wondered if Bruce was using the kites to covertly survey a criminal or something.

Bruce waited for a moment before answering, “your grandmother used to take me here when I was a boy to fly kites. I always enjoyed it and it’s something I want to share with my own kids.”

His own kids. It struck Marinette once again how happily Bruce had welcomed her into his life, how easily he referred to her as his kid. She could feel tears welling up at the corner of her eyes as the emotions of the moment washed over her.

Bruce looked down at her with concern and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Mari replied while wiping her tears away with her free hand, “it’s just, no one’s ever done this before, wanted to just, just spend time with me…” Instincts taking over, she stepped forward and hugged Bruce tightly, who, after a moment of surprise, returned it. She was so used to having to justify her own existence that the unconditional caring and support from the Waynes felt like a typhoon in the desert, wonderful but overwhelming. 

After a moment the pair separated and Mari put on a wobbly smile, “sorry for crying on your coat.”

“It didn’t do it any harm. Even if it had, Alfred buys me too many clothes anyway,” Bruce replied. “There’s no shame in having emotions, Mari, and I want you to always feel comfortable coming to me if you’re distressed or something’s bothering you. You’ve gone through a big transition, and it’s okay to rely on other people. We’re here for you; I’m here for you.” 

The words were to a degree paraphrasing something Bruce himself had needed to be told, more than once. Alfred, Kate, Selina and later his kids had often had to forcibly remind him not to carry his burdens alone. He had a tendency to try and fix everything himself, and he worried Marinette may have inherited it. 

They sat together for a moment in peaceful silence, the sounds of the park wafting over them and their kites bobbing in the wind. Eventually, Mari piped up quietly, “Actually, I’m a bit worried about my friend Chloe. She hasn’t been responding to me and… I know I’m probably being silly, but could I possibly go visit her?”

Bruce’s brow furrowed in thought; it was probably just a matter of the girl being grounded, but he’d be a hypocrite to dismiss it given his own worrywart nature. In any event, he owed Ms. Bourgeois a debt for what she’d done for Marinette while she was on the run. 

“Of course, Marinette,” Bruce began. “We can take the jet for a visit sometime next week, and I can ask someone to check in on her in the meantime.” He’d have let Mari take the zeta herself, but given the increased media scrutiny she was about to be under, Marinette Wayne couldn’t be seen to be walking around Paris when she was supposed to be in Gotham. 

Mari was frankly a little surprised how easily he’d agreed, but she did feel better knowing she’d be able to see Chloe soon. Her friend would likely tell her off for worrying over nothing.

The rest of the morning passed pleasantly, with father and daughter enjoying a day in the park. In years to come, Mari would often look back on that trip to fly kites as the day she began to feel like a Wayne. Consequently it would become one of her favorite memories. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kent Condo, Friday, 11:40 AM

Lois Lane Kent tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for her husband. The award winning reporter was wearing a plum blazer and skirt, paired with a black blouse and heels. She realized Clark couldn’t control when there’d be an emergency, in this case an airplane in distress over the Indian Ocean, but if he didn’t show up soon they were going to be late. She was regretting not taking the chartered flight Selina had offered, or just taking the bullet train even if it did take nearly two hours to reach Gotham from Metropolis, but Clark had sworn up and down it would be easier for him to fly her over.

Lois half suspected her husband just wanted an excuse to tag along since he was a bit put out Bruce and Selina had asked her rather than him to conduct the interview. The Pulitzer-winner smirked fondly at the thought, enjoying the friendly professional rivalry she had with her spouse. 

She looked down at her phone, checking the time again; she only had half an hour till she was due at the manor. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she was delayed, Selina was one of her best friends and the Waynes obviously understood how Super business could throw a wrench in schedules, but the reporter hated being late. Besides, it would probably put Marinette more at ease if everything went according to plan. She’d heard a little bit about the newest Wayne from her daughter, (after calming down from the panic over Kara being hit with a kryptonite bullet), and the poor girl was apparently a bit understandably skittish. 

Lois could sympathize, thinking back to when Kara first arrived. The young Kryptonian had been so unsure of herself, and dealing with both a new family and major culture shock. France wasn’t another planet, but Lois imagined Mari must be going through a similar experience. 

There had been some people who had expressed surprise at Lois being so onboard with adopting Kara after she arrived. There were also some people who Lois wanted to punch in the face. They were the same people. She hated both the assumption that just because she cared about her career, she couldn’t also care about a child; Clark never got any snide comments about balancing work and fatherhood, but some were all too happy to gossip that Lois didn’t seem the ‘maternal’ type. As if she hadn’t already basically raised her little sister after their mother’s death, considering how absent General Lane had been. Clark was Kara’s only family in the universe, and by marriage, she was Lois’s family too; besides, she’d always wanted a daughter. 

Speaking of, maybe she should just call Kara at this point to zip her over? She knew her eldest would be happy to help, she always was, but she didn’t want to pull her away from her trip to the Metropolis aquarium with some of her school friends that she was currently on. (Conner, as a result of his cloned genetics, didn’t have the full Kryptonian powerset and wasn’t capable of flying, and her youngest Jon had yet to develop that power, if indeed he eventually would considering his half-human genetics). There was also the option of using the League Zeta tube, but even though she’d probably get away with it, it was technically only supposed to be used for official League business, and her daughter and her daughter’s girlfriend stretched that rule enough as it was. 

She was saved from having to make a decision by a sudden SWOOSH coming from the window, heralding the arrival of Superman. A red-blue blur zoomed towards her, and she felt the quick touch of a kiss on her cheek before it ducked back into the master bedroom. Moments later Clark stepped back out, frantically tying a tie and looking suitably sheepish. 

“Sorry, sorry I-”

Lois crossed the distance and silenced the stammering alien with a kiss. “It’s fine, Smallville,” Lois quipped, though privately finding Clark’s babbling endearingly adorable. “Saving the day’s pretty time sensitive. Everything go okay?”

Clark grinned and scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, I got the plane down and everyone was okay, just a little shaken up. Looked like mechanical failure from a quick scan, but the Indian Air Traffic Authority’s going to do a full investigation.”

“Are you going to write it up?” Lois asked.

Clark shook his head as Lois straightened his tie, “No, Perry’s probably going to hand it to the foreign desk since it doesn’t look like a big enough story to warrant an expose, at least not yet. Corben can handle it.”

Lois rolled her eyes, “John Corben can barely handle rewriting Lexcorp press releases.” Lois had a longstanding ire for her colleague, who she felt was a less than stellar journalist, often taking the statements of the rich and powerful at face value, and failing to properly canvas for countervailing opinions or investigate factual claims. Even Steve Lombard was a better writer.

The Kryptonian put up a placating hand, “You know Perry’s keeping an eye on his drafts to make sure he shapes up. Let’s get to Gotham and you can show him some real journalism.”

“I’d hardly call announcing that our friends have a new kid for the umpteenth time hard hitting journalism,” Lois chided playfully, “but you’re right.” She slung her arms around his neck and pulled tight to his body, “up, up and away Superman.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Manor, Same Time

Marinette focused on keeping her breathing steady as she sat waiting for Mrs. Lane-Kent’s arrival. They were in one of the Manor’s many sitting rooms, her, Bruce and Selina. Her early morning excursion with Bruce had done a lot to put her mind at ease as far as Chloe was concerned, and she was trying to focus on the upcoming interview. She felt a gentle squeeze on her hand and looked over to see Selina giving her a comforting smile.

That may have been the largest subversion of her worries since she arrived, how welcoming the Wayne matriarch had been. Ever since the day at the rink, Selina had been affectionate, and well, maternal, towards Mari in a way that made the Parisian ex-pat feel bewildered but in sort of a good way. Unlike Bruce, who she supposed had some duty to her via blood, Selina had no obligation to care for Marinette, and yet, amazingly in Mari’s mind, she did anyway. 

“Lois texted, she said Clark will be bringing her by shortly,” Selina informed them after glancing down at her phone.

“Hn,” Bruce responded taciturnly, his arms crossed. Selina reached across Mari to give him a playful shove.

“He’s your best friend; there’s no need to look so grumpy that he’s tagging along, darling.”

“He’s going to be put out that we asked Lois instead of him, and he’s going to be annoying about it,” Bruce retorted. After a pause he added, “And you're my best friend.”

“I’m your wife darling, that doesn’t count,” Selina replied.

“In that case Kate-”

“Is your cousin, who’s basically your sister and doesn’t count for similar reasons,” Selina interjected.

“Diana-”

Selina let out a fond sigh of exasperation at her husband, “Is aforementioned cousin’s wife and therefore essentially your sister in law. I standby my assertion that Clark is your best friend you’re not related or married to, which you would readily agree to if you didn’t insist on being so contrarian.”

Bruce slumped a little as he uncrossed his arms, muttering, “he’s still tied with Harley.”

Mari marveled at the gentle back and forth between the two, the pair’s fond expressions betraying that there was no heat to their bickering. She’d known to some degree that the icy silences punctuated by shouting matches that defined Tom and Sabine’s relationship wasn’t necessarily typical for all couples, but she was still astounded by the clear and constant love Bruce and Selina had for one another. There was so much warmth there that she just wanted to bask in it, like a cat in a sunbeam.

That could be said of the whole Wayne household in the two weeks she’d been there. In addition to the whirlwind of outings all of her new siblings had taken her on, she’d been witness to countless smaller moments of caring between the members of the family. It was the little things like seeing Stephanie automatically hand Tim a fresh cup of coffee while he was researching a case, or Duke coaxing Titus to be still so Damian could sketch the Great Dane, that tickled her heartstrings.

It wasn’t as if Wayne Manor was all sunshine and rainbows. For example, she’d been woken up a little over a week after arriving by Carrie and Damian loudly squabbling over her using all of his hair gel to give a sleeping Jason a mohawk as a prank. (Jason, who had been crashing at the manor over the weekend, had actually found the prank pretty funny and complimented his little sister on her budding stealth skills.) If she were honest the small moments of discord actually put her a bit at ease; it made it feel more real, less like some sort of potemkin village put on for her benefit.

The thing that struck her about it though, was that even when they were arguing, pranking each other, or otherwise getting on each other’s nerves, there was an underlying current of love to the family’s interactions. It threatened to overwhelm Mari, especially when she realized that same constant affection was being extended to her as well. 

Most shocking to her had been how much attention Selina was giving her; she had easily shown more interest in Mari’s happiness and wellbeing over the last two weeks than Sabine had over the last two years. It had started innocuously enough with a trip to the salon; Mari hadn’t had her hair cut since becoming a runaway. Selina had taken her to her personal salon, and bought out the whole shop for two hours so Mari could have privacy, and the press wouldn’t get wind of Marinette ahead of the planned interview. Mari ended up keeping much of the length, her midnight blue hair cascading down to just above her bottom, but the stylist expertly removed the split ends, twisted knots and in general breathed life back into her hair. 

That had been followed by two nearly all day shopping sprees to fill out Marinette’s new wardrobe. Shopping as a rich person was a weird an foreign experience for Mari. She hadn’t intended to go overboard, but Selina had a black card in hand and a will to use it. Suddenly she was wearing designer label clothes everyday that she’d never thought to be able to own; it was honestly exhilarating for the budding designer. 

Even when they weren’t doing anything major, Selina had made a point of checking in on her everyday, casually including her in activities with her siblings, and just generally treating Marinette like part of her family.

Though she didn’t dare give it voice, this time spent with Selina was beginning to feel like mother-daughter outings. While she was grateful for the money spent on her, what struck her was how much time Selina devoted personally. The Wayne matriarch could easily have tasked an assistant, or Alfred, or a sibling, to do those things with Mari, but she’d chosen to be there herself. Given how busy she was, between running the Wayne Foundation and being freaking Catwoman, that choice spoke volumes.

‘ I think this might be what it feels like to have a mother,’ Mari thought to herself before hastily quashing it. That was something she’d always wanted, but had long ago accepted she wouldn’t have. Selina was just being nice, she shouldn’t want anything more from the kind woman than than. 

Marinette was shaken from her thoughts by Alfred’s announcement that the Kents had arrived. Mari took a deep breath, ‘ it’ll be okay. Kara was nice and these are her parents so hopefully they’ll be nice as well’  

Clark Kent was a tall, broad shouldered man but it was easy not to realize it. The reporter had a habitual slouch, and to Mari’s eye was wearing a suit tailored for a bigger man, making him look a bit thinner and shorter than he was. Lois Lane-Kent in contrast had both perfect posture and a sharply put together outfit that Mari thought really brought out her eyes. It wasn’t quite as high-end as what the Wayne women wore, but you could tell Lois knew how to style herself. 

Selina got to her feet gracefully to give Lois a warm hug, while Bruce just crossed his arms and seemed to be trying to look anywhere other than at Clark. The bespectacled man didn’t take any offense though and strode over to say hello. Both Kents were introduced to Marinette and then the two Wayne parents returned to their seats on either side of Marinette, while Lois took a perch on the divan opposite. 

After introductions, Clark excused himself to go poke around the stables, (Mari suspected that was a euphemism for going to do Superman things, since that was obviously who Clark Kent was) and Lois turned to her, pulled out her notebook, and gave her an encouraging smile. “Are you ready to begin?”

—-----------

Later

Mari was beginning to breathe easier; so far the interview had been not nearly as bad as she’d worried it would be. Luckily Lois spoke French, so they were able to conduct it in Mari’s native tongue and she wasn’t worried about accidentally mispeaking. Her English was advancing rapidly but she was still more comfortable in her mother language. Ms. Lane just asked her a few questions about where she was from, how she found out she was related to Bruce and so on. Maybe she was calm because she was basically just sticking to a script for the most part, since they obviously couldn’t explain the real story.

The cover they’d gone for was that she’d applied to a service that helped reconnect children with their birth parents and it had matched her with Bruce and they’d subsequently arranged a meeting for confirmation. It wasn’t that outlandish of an idea that Bruce might have put his own information into the system after Damian had come forward, and with a little hacking from Barbara there was even a record if anyone went poking around the charity’s records. (Of course, neither of the DNA profiles they’d added to the books were their actual DNA since Bruce had a bad habit of bleeding all over Gotham, and they didn’t want a database with his DNA for cross reference, even if it was nominally private.)

As far as anyone would know, she was the result of one of Bruce’s one night stands during his time abroad; the fact that Bruce had left Gotham at 17 to tour the world was common knowledge, even if the fact he’d actually been undergoing the training he would need to become Batman was a closely guarded secret. Her unnamed mother had then died in childbirth without telling anyone who the father was, leading to Mari entering the system and leaving even Bruce unaware he had a child. Mari couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that Bruce was likely going to be slandered a bit in the press for falsified youthful promiscuity, but it seemed like the best option. By falsifying records of a dead birth mother, they reduced the chances of Talia attempting anything fishy, and it was similar to the cover story given to Damian, albeit set in France instead of India. It would mean she and Damian wouldn’t be officially twins, at least as far as the media was concerned, but it seemed safer this way.

She’d talked a little about her life in Paris, but they’d kept it in vague terms; Tom and Sabine were only referred to as anonymous foster parents, no details were given about where exactly she’d lived or gone to school, and her former surname was omitted entirely. (A meeting with one of Bruce’s lawyers had officially made her name Marinette Wayne.) While Lois was obviously going to respect her privacy, there was no reason to give subsequent less scrupulous journalists any more to go on than was necessary. Her period of living rough was similarly entirely glossed over, and luckily all records of her juvenile charges were already dismissed and scrubbed from her record.

So far so good, but Lois’ next question caught her off guard, “How are you liking living with the Waynes, I’m sure it’s a big adjustment?” 

‘ Merde’ Mari cursed internally. They’d moved from her prepared story to something she should try and answer honestly. She took a deep breath before doing so, “It has been a change to say the least, but… a good one.” She glanced from side to side at Bruce and Selina who were both smiling encouragingly.

“I loved Paris, of course, but … it was time for me to go in more ways than one. Gotham is a fresh start. Suddenly having so many siblings is different,” Mari continued with a wry smile, “but the Waynes have been nothing but welcoming since I arrived and I’m very thankful for that.”

“Yes, I’m sure that was quite the surprise,” Lois chuckled, “maybe not what you expected when reconnecting with a birth parent. How was that experience, meeting Bruce for the first time.”

Mari hesitated, but answered truthfully, “there were a lot of complicated feelings. I’m sure it’s something other orphans can relate to, the questioning, the wondering why you’re alone, wondering if you were wanted.” She pointedly didn’t look at Bruce while she spoke. “So uh, there were mixed emotions going into it. I kind of thought at this point I wasn’t ever going to meet either of my birth parents, but then I met Bruce.”

“After the service connected you?” Lois gently prompted, reminding her to keep the cover story intact.

“R-right,” Mari hastily added, “I just didn’t really expect to get a response.” She took a breath and continued, “I met him and he was great, better than great really. It felt a little unreal, and I just found myself wishing I could have had him for the last thirteen years, you know?”

Lois nodded along and Mari dared to take a look at Bruce, who seemed sad but not upset as she’d feared. “But, I realize that’s not his fault. As much as I wish things were different, they are what they are and I can’t be upset with him for something he didn’t know. I can only judge him on how he’s been since he’s known about me and he’s been incredible. I don’t know if I can put into words what it means to have a home, to have a fami-” at this point Mari felt sniffles overtake her. Selina was squeezing her hand and Bruce had a comforting hand on her back, both anchoring her and letting her get settled.

“Anyway, he’s a bit of a goof,” Mari said wetly while Bruce scoffed and Selina snorted, “but very nice.” She was of course omitting her initial meeting with him as Batman, and basing her description on the awkward Bruce she’d shared the flight to Gotham with, the man who couldn’t stop gushing about his kids once you got him started and seemed just as uncertain as her. 

There were a few more questions after that, mostly softball ones. Things like what her hobbies were, what she thought of America, that sort of thing. Eventually they concluded the interview, though Lois hung around for a bit to catch up with Selina while Bruce headed off to check on something at Wayne Enterprises, Carrie following after him. Mari felt some of the tension leech form her body now that the interview was finally over only for the anxiety to almost immediately return. The interview was over, but in a few days, everyone was going to know about Marinette Wayne and her new happy little bubble of peace may be about to burst.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Themyscira, That Afternoon

Diana Kane, better known to the world as Wonder Woman, steeled herself as she pulled her invisible jet into the hanger adjacent to the palace. (While she could indeed fly, she couldn’t fly nearly as fast as the jet, originally a White Martian assault craft later augmented with Amazonian technology, and so used it when making longer journeys.) Hippolyta would no doubt be indigent that she was popping in by surprise, rather than calling ahead. However, Diana knew if she had given warning her mother would have organized some sort of grand feast or other ceremony that she’d have to sit through, so she considered annoying the ancient amazon queen as the lesser of two evils.

Diana loved her mother, she did, but after a few hundred years of living with her, she preferred to experience her mother in small doses. Honestly she would have waited till the family’s scheduled trip to spectate the Chariot finals held at the autumnal equinox, but the armored briefcase she was holding really didn’t need to be left sitting around the Kane Estate. With that in mind she disengaged the engine and popped the canopy.

“Well met, daughter. I’m pleased yet surprised to see you. Had we known of your coming, a less hurried welcome could have been arranged.” Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, stood next to the plane, flanked by two guards and her attendant, Mala. Diana’s mother was regal as ever, dressed in a flowing royal purple gown offset by the gleaming tiara that was the sign of her rule. It made Diana feel a bit sheepish to be wearing just a leather jacket, jeans and a white t-shirt but she’d been assisting on a dig earlier in the day and hadn’t thought to change.

“I apologize, mother, but it is a rather urgent matter that I come to you with today,” Diana explained. Indeed, she’d rushed over with the case as soon as Doctor Fate had finished examining the box it contained. (The mystic wanted to get a better understanding of the Miraculous’ particular magic, so that he could create countermeasures to prevent something like the Peacock miraculous’ warding off of Paris from public perception from happening again.)

Hippolyta waved her hand dismissively, “Oh, urgent this, quickly that; I swear daughter, your time in the world of men has infected you with their impatience.” Diana bit back her retort that people whose lifespan was so much shorter, comparatively, than an amazon, had good reason to do things a bit faster than on Paradise Island. Hippolyta, being thousands of years old, was the definition of set in her ways, and there was no point starting an argument if she could avoid it. 

It seemed her mother also wasn’t going to linger on it. Hippolyta shook her black tresses and smiled, reaching out her arms, “No mind, come, tell me what the latest crisis is.”

Diana walked forward and gave her mother a quick hug, “Well, this particular crisis is one I believe you will be familiar with. You recall the miraculous?” Diana patted the case she held.

Hippolyta’s eyes widened, “Yes… although I was not aware they had resurfaced, this is troubling. Those artifacts are catalysts for change, and not necessarily for the better. Come walk with me and tell me what has happened.”

Diana followed her mother from the hanger, through the courtyard, and onward to one of the palatial antechambers. As she went, she described the situation in Paris, and the need for the remaining miraculous to be kept somewhere safe.

“So, in summary, two of the miraculous have already been grievously misused and it is your hope to keep the remainder here in our vault to avoid further catastrophe?” Hippolyta asked with an arched eyebrow. 

“Well, all but two of them. The Cat and Ladybug miraculous seem to have bonded permanently to their current bearers,” Diana replied. The amazon princess felt a bit dubious about that fact, following the fight in Paris; she had every confidence in her newest niece, but, based on his refusal to participate in the final fight, she was skeptical of the boy who held the Ladybug.

“Hmm, more's the pity. I’d have enjoyed becoming reacquainted with Tiki.” Hippolyta murmured before letting out a sigh, “still, tis probably for the best. Those two together are easily the most sought after for obvious reasons, so it is good that they will be held separately. Mala, please summon Medea, we have something new for the vaults.”

Diana bowed slightly, “thank you, mother.” Hippolyta smirked slightly at her daughter, “Of course. After all, they’re hardly the most dangerous thing you’ve asked us to keep.”

Diana grimaced, her thoughts drawn to the creature held in the deepest levels of Themyscira’s vaults; chained with shackles that had once held the Titan Prometheus, the monster known only as Doomsday was imprisoned below. The product of the most horrific genetic engineering in the galaxy, Doomsday had nearly succeeded in killing Superman. It was only through the support of the Justice League that the Kryptonian had managed to be victorious, and then only just. Many of the League had been badly injured, with Clark himself put out of commission for months by his struggle with the beast.

It was the sort of mindless monstrosity even Bruce wouldn’t have objected to killing, but unfortunately that would only be a stopgap measure. The creature’s unique physiology would inevitably cause it to be reborn, having evolved to overpower whatever it was that had killed it previously. So, before it could rise again, the creature had been transported secretly to Themyscira and chained with the Hephaestus forged adamant bands; luckily the creature had little exposure to magic, and had yet to evolve an adaptation to deal with it. Theoretically it should be effectively imprisoned forever, but thinking of the creature could make even the normally unperturbed Wonder Woman, uneasy.

“Yes, I really can’t thank you enough for what you and my sisters have done.” 

Hippolyta waved her off, “Oh pish posh. The Amazons have always done their part to vanquish evil. Now, let us talk of lighter things. Will you be staying for dinner?”

Diana stayed to visit for several hours, but managed to talk her way out of staying for the meal. She enjoyed regaling her fellow Amazons with stories of the wider world (She’d fallen out of using the term man’s world, considering half of the greater population were also women), but she had a much more important appointment to keep. It may have irked her mother, but Diana was pulling the canopy of her jet closed before the sun dipped below the horizon. 

She may have gunned her jet a little to zip over the Atlantic in under an hour. Around eight o’clock, she finally entered Gotham airspace, banking around the city proper to head slightly upstate. She touched down next to the Kane mansion, leapt out of the plane and hurried into the foyer, calling out “sorry I’m late, I-”

Her apologies were cut off by her wife spinning her around and pulling her into a deep kiss. Despite being a trained warrior, with normally exceptional senses, Kate could somehow always manage to sneak up on her. Diana let herself melt into the shorter woman’s embrace, feeling the tension of dealing with her mother fall away. After a moment, they reluctantly broke off their embrace. 

“Mmh, the kids were getting worried your mother would hold you up,” Kate teased. The red haired woman had a reputation for being taciturn, but tended to show her softer, playful side at home.

“Just the kids, huh?” Diana rejoined.

Kate gestured to herself dramatically, “Me? I had every confidence in you of course.”

Diana was about to continue their banter when Donna’s voice came in from the other room. “Moms! Stop flirting and get your butts in here, or we’re starting the movie without you!” Diana blushed slightly but quickly followed Kate into the home cinema. (They’d arranged the nightly patrols so that all five of them would be off to enjoy movie night together.)

Diana smiled contentedly as Bette and Sandra snuggled up to her, while Donna lay across Kate’s legs and the movie began; it was nice to visit her mother and the island of her birth, but this was the place that had truly become her home.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Enterprises, Friday Afternoon

Celeste Fitzpatrick had a love-hate relationship with her boss. On the one hand, Mr. Wayne was a genial, charming man, with an uncanny knack for remembering personal details for the little people who worked for him. The terms of her employment were generous, both in pay and in terms of benefits including an in-house daycare available to all Wayne employees.

On the other hand, he did things like casually poke his head into her office and tell her she had to prep for the reveal of yet another Wayne child in the next three days. Apparently the girl had already given her coming out interview, and while she had been given an advance transcript, she really wished Mr. Wayne would clear things like this with her office ahead of time. She knew the Waynes were close with the Kents, a theoretical boon for ensuring good press, if also a double edge sword having reporters hanging around, but she’d sleep easier at night if she was at least consulted on these things.

The thing was, she thought Bruce honestly just forgot he had a PR person sometimes. She almost always felt like she was the last person in the loop when the Waynes were off on their next insane adventure. ‘ Seriously, does every member of the family have to take up extreme sports?’ Memories of Jason’s various crashes, two cars, a plane and a speed boat so far, flashed through her mind and she could only hope Marinette had a better head on her shoulders. ‘ Let her be like Barbara, I like Barbara. Barbara never gets in any trouble.’

Still, Celeste was a professional, so four hours after Bruce dropped the existence of a second secret love child in her lap, she had a whole press strategy ready to go. In an odd way, the sheer number of Wayne children had shrunk to some degree how big of a story a new one was going to be. Recently returned Gotham Prince, Bruce Wayne adopts dramatically orphaned circus boy got a much bigger headline than Buce and Selina Wayne adopting their twelfth child. 

This story would probably break bigger than Harper’s adoption had, considering Marinette was Bruce’s biologically. While the Waynes were adamant about there being no difference between their adopted and biological children, the elite of Gotham and the vultures at the Gazette didn’t tend to agree. Celeste knew she’d have to head off baseless rumors about Selina and Bruce splitting up over this, or Selina hating the new kid, just like she’d had to do when Damian arrived. (The fact that both kids were conceived before Bruce would have even met his wife not seeming to matter.) She was already looking for events Selina and Marinette could attend together, as well as planning to try and convince Bruce to let her tip off some paparazzi the next time he and his wife were out being entirely too lovey dovey on a date. The Waynes naturally hated letting the press intrude in their personal life more than they had to, but if she framed it as being to help their kids, she knew she could get them to agree. 

Taking her freshly printed proposal from the printer, she slipped it in a nice leather folder and stepped out of the office to go looking for her irascible boss. Celeste was a tall bespectacled woman, her brunette hair currently held in a tight bob. She was dressed professionally in a beige button up collared blouse, green blazer, crisp tan slacks and low heels. She wove her way past the other offices on the 34th floor, giving a brief wave to her friend Dr. Lake whose office she passed and made her way to the main elevators.

“Hiya Fitz!” A cheery voice greeted her as the elevator doors opened, “heading up to see Brucie?”

“Good afternoon, Dr. Blackthorn,” Celeste replied evenly. She found it a bit unprofessional how her elevator companion, Dr. Harley Blackthorn, addressed their mutual boss, but she supposed that’s what you could get away with when you were old friends.

Harley was wearing a labcoat over a flower print blouse and black skirt. She too wore glasses, but her own brown shoulder length hair was currently loose. Harley worked with Wayne Medical, in particular in their Neurology department and Celeste really only knew her in passing, mainly due to her tendency to show up in the background of photos at Wayne family functions. 

“Aw, what’s got you so grumpy today?” Harley asked. Her tone was teasing, but she gave Celeste a gentle smile to show she didn’t mean any harm. 

“Nothing I’m at liberty to share, Dr. Blackthorn,” Celeste responded as the elevator ascended through Wayne Tower. Evidently Harley was also bound for the upper floors. 

“Right, it’s totally not about Bruce’s ever multiplying hoard of children,” Harley said with a sarcastic wink, but Celeste didn’t respond. Even if Harley likely already knew about Mari, Celeste knew the first rule of PR was never make an accidental leak. Eventually Harley got off a few floors below Celeste’s destination, likely heading off to bother her wife, Ivy Blackthorn, the head of Wayne Botanical. The other Dr. Blackthorn preferred to work in her lab at an annex a few miles away, but occasionally was called into the Tower for administrative duties. 

Ding! The elevator doors opened to reveal the executive floor, and Celeste quickly made her way towards the western side. Instead of one massive office, the floor was divided into three offices and a lobby area, one facing the elevators and one to either side. One office was held by Lucius Fox, one was nominally empty but occasionally occupied by Katherine Kane when she stopped by, and the other was Bruce’s. Mrs. Kane obviously had her own office at the Kane Consolidated building, but both cousins had executive space kept available for each other when they were collaborating. Personally Celeste was surprised the two hadn’t just merged their companies given how closely they worked together.

She stopped by the desk in front of Bruce’s office, where his assistant was currently on the phone.

“Yes Miss Robinson, those arrangements should be fine. Wayne Entertainment will be happy to assist the Foundation’s initiative. Uh-huh. Full media push on the new youth centers. It’s my pleasure Miss Robinson.” Bruce’s longtime secretary, Caroline Crown was having a conversation, presumably with the second in command of the Wayne Foundation, Holly Robinson. There had been a bit of skepticism when Holly, who just so happened to be Selina Wayne’s childhood best friend, had been appointed to the number two position, but she had the backing of the trustees and in the years since her appointment had proven incredibly effective in directing the Foundation’s efforts to help the people of Gotham.

Finishing her call, Catherine turned to Celeste, “you can go on in Miss Fitzpatrick, Mr. Wayne is expecting you.”

Celeste smiled and took a step into the impressive office, still having her breath taken away by the sweeping view it gave of Gotham despite seeing it many times. Bruce was working at his desk but he wasn’t alone, Carrie Wayne was sitting in his lap, playing a handheld game device and chattering to her father while he worked through some paperwork.

“So then Duke said Jason totally couldn’t eat a whole jar of peanut butter without milk in fifteen minutes, and Jason said he totally could and so Tim and I ran down to get the peanut butter but Alfred caught us and asked why we were raiding ‘his’ pantry and-”

It was charming how often Bruce brought his kids to the office, and would have made a great humanizing piece if he would let Celeste have a reporter profile it. Unfortunately, there were few things the Waynes valued more than their children’s safety and privacy, so she wasn’t allowed to push it on official Wayne channels. Not that it stopped the children from occasionally posting selfies of themselves annoying Bruce at work, but it seemed there was one rule for family and another for her.

Celeste cleared her throat to grab the Waynes’ attention. Carrie gave her a friendly wave, before returning her focus to her Switch, while Bruce gave her a tired smile. “You already have a press plan put together? I’m impressed as always.”

Celeste felt a proud smirk creep onto her features, “Well you do hire the best.”

For the next half-hour she gave him an overview of how they’d be handling the press surrounding Marinette’s arrival. There was a little back and forth quibbling; Celeste always wanted Bruce to do more public appearances than he’d prefer, but they arrived at a compromise. Mari’s big first public appearance was planned to be the upcoming Wayne Gala in August. While the Waynes were fixtures of the socialite scene in Gotham, the family only formally hosted their own Gala four times a year, roughly once per season, and it would be a somewhat controlled environment for Marinette to make her debut. 

As Celeste left the office and Bruce seamlessly prompted Carrie to resume her story, the Public Relations specialist had a moment of reflection. Compared to the scandals she’d have to quash, and the harassment cases she’d need to cover up if she worked for someone like Lex Luthor, having to account for her boss’s orphan accumulation habit wasn’t really all that bad. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Batcave, The Next Day, Saturday

Now that the interview was given, there was nothing left to do on the press front but wait. Lois was set to publish three days after she’d given it, so it’d be in the Monday edition, which left Mari just nervously sitting on her hands that Saturday. Looking to distract herself, she’d made her way down into the cave and before long found herself drawn to the Batcomputer.

The packet Damian and Stephanie had provided for her covered the most immediately important information, comm frequencies, how to interact with the GCPD, cave layout etc. However, the Bats had built up a veritable hoard of contingencies and information for dealing with most known villains or emergency situations. Mari of course wasn’t expected to memorize all of this right away, but she’d always been an overachiever. She had everything in the welcome packet down, and found she liked reading through the other contingency files on the Batcomputer. One could never be too prepared after all.

Not that all of the files were clear to her at first reading; it seemed there was a lot of context she’d need to catch up on when it came to known villains. Most of the directives made sense, but some were just plain weird. In particular Mari was trying to puzzle out what was meant by the entry saying: If you see a floating diminutive man in a bowler hat, run and call for Bat-Mite. ‘ Bat- Mite ? I mean, that has to be a typo right?’ Marinette thought to herself. 

A lot of this information was accessible remotely but technology could always fail where memory didn’t. Marinette also felt an overwhelming need to prove herself worthy of the trust and care her new family was putting in her, to earn her spot so to speak. Just as she’d once pushed herself to be class president, she was going to push herself to be the most competent hero she could possibly be.

Among the more interesting bits of information was finding out who among their fellow heroes was in the know about who the Bats were. She’d gone from just having her own secret identity to worry about, to having nearly twenty people she could accidentally expose if she wasn’t careful, so she wanted to make sure she knew who was in on their secret, and who wasn’t. It was a shorter list than she had expected and some of the people who were on or off it surprised Mari. 

Not even all the founding members of the League knew who was under Batman’s cowl. Superman knew of course, as did Flash and Martian Manhunter, but Aquaman, Green Arrow and Green Lantern were all in the dark. Indeed, it seemed more of the obscure members, like Katanna and Zatanna were in the know, compared to people Marinette thought of as the heavy hitters like Captain Atom or Captain Marvel, who weren’t.

Actually, what was most surprising, was that the majority of the Titans knew who the Bats were, but only a small portion of the League did. Mari’s brow furrowed as she tried to figure out a pattern to who the family chose to let in on their secret. “Trying to figure out the reasoning behind Dad and Aunt Kate’s paranoia, sis?” Mari looked up to see Tim coming down from the hidden grandfather clock entrance to the cave. Mari had noticed that her siblings had been making a concerted effort to refer to her as their sister; she guessed they were just trying to make her feel included, and couldn’t deny the flush of warmth she felt whenever she heard it.

Mari gestured at the files she’d been reading, “I mean, a lot of it makes sense. You can see that generally people the Bats have worked with longer are more likely to know who we are, presumably after a certain amount of trust has been built up. However, then you have people like Green Arrow who Bruce teamed up with even before the League was established who doesn’t know.”

Tim chuckled as he slid into the chair next to her, hitting a few keys as the monitor of the Batcomputer flared to life. “Dad thinks Ollie’s terrible at keeping his secret identity, so he won’t trust him with ours. Seriously, I bet if I set you up with a computer with internet access and gave you two hours you’d be able to figure out who the emerald archer is.” Bruce had actually known Oliver before leaving to train to become Batman, and nowadays had dealings with Ollie in both of his personas despite Green Arrow being none the wiser.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Mari assented. That was similar to her reason for keeping Alya out of the loop on her being Lady Noir, and that had proven to be a very good decision. “Are Aquaman and the Lanterns excluded for similar reasons?”

Tim gave the so-so gesture, “yes and no.” Tim flopped into the seat beside her. The main Batcomputer terminal had three chairs in front of it, and the screens could be segmented if multiple users needed to use it at once. “How much do you know about how Green Lanterns are chosen?”

“It’s supposed to be the people with the strongest willpower in their sector of space, right?” Mari asked, a little unsure. When the Lanterns had become publicly known years ago, the first one had given a brief overview of the Corps and how it worked to the people of earth but he didn’t exactly delve into specifics.

“Right, that’s the tagline anyway,” Tim agreed while pulling up profiles on the six earth lanterns on the monitor. “Supposedly all it takes is the ability to overcome great fear, and you’re in. The short answer to your question is the rings; they’re super computers tied to the central battery on Oa and ultimately controlled by the Guardians of the Universe, think blue big headed aliens who’ve been around a long time. Even if we trust an individual Lantern, telling them would be telling the whole corps and while the guardians don’t really care much about the secret identities of earthlings, that’s still a whole byzantine alien police force to trust with our biggest secret. Aquaman’s a similar case, he’s king of Atlantis. Dad’s worried about a situation where his loyalty to his kingdom might outweigh any personal loyalty. While I agree with the decision on the Lanterns, personally I think he’s being a bit paranoid with Mr. Curry.”

Marinette put her hand to her chin as she considered it. She tended to side with Bruce, but then again she was very cautious about revealing she was Noir, given how untrustworthy some of her old social circle had proven to be. She’d only really ever decided to tell one person outside of extenuating circumstances and that was Chloe. 

“You said that’s the short answer, what’s the long answer?”

“Well, it’s really more conjecture than anything, but I think there’s more to the ring’s selection protocols than the willpower thing. That’s part of it, definitely, but don’t you think it’s weird that all six lanterns from our sector just happen to be not only humans, but Americans?”

“You think the ring’s are… what, nationalist?” Mari asked, confused why alien power rings would care about that sort of thing.

“Not exactly, no,” Tim replied. “I think it all starts with Hal Jordan. Before him, the 2814 lantern wasn’t human and also at the time there was only one Lantern per sector. Even now there’s only supposed to be two, but earth’s got six times that number due to how often world ending threats seem to show up.” Tim’s voice was sardonic as the screen flashed through scenes of the Lanterns in action before resolving into Hal’s profile. 

“So, I think Hal definitely has an abundance of willpower, but that’s probably something like a minimum requirement. After that I think the ring was going after a certain psychological profile. I obviously don’t have a full survey of all the Lanterns, but of the ones we know about, a surprising number of them were already either military or law enforcement on their planets before being selected. I think the ring was looking for someone used to a chain of command, who’d fit well into the Corps. The kind of person who’s used to following orders.”

Mari glanced over the six Lantern profiles as Tim spoke. She looked up and said, “that tracks for Mr. Jordan, Mr. Stewart and Mr. Gardner, but Rayner, Baz and Cruz aren’t ex-military or law enforcement. It also doesn’t explain why they’d all be American, which I agree is weird now that I think about it; other countries have militaries and police forces after all.”

Tim excitedly snapped his fingers, “exactly! To the first point, I think the thing the ring prioritizes even over experience with terrestrial military or policing, is experience with a power ring. Kyle, Simon and Jessica all got their initial rings without being selected by the Corps, but were later folded in. It makes sense, proven experience using a power ring would be one of the best indicators for skill as a Lantern; it also explains why, during those times some of them have lost their rings, they’ve gotten them back instead of having them be reassigned.”

Tim hit a few keys and the screen shifted to show John and Guy lighting up for the first time after the central power battery was restored. “As for the American thing, I think that’s where Hal comes in. Once they decided to assign a secondary Lantern, I think they somewhat prioritized someone who would work well with Hal. It’s a bit simplistic, but having a similar cultural background might have been a factor they looked for.”

Mari raised an eyebrow, “Are you saying Americans can’t work with foreigners, monsieur?”

Tim looked panicked for a moment before Mari collapsed into giggling, with Tim soon chuckling as well. 

“What are you doing hanging around the cave?” Mari asked after a moment. “Stephanie said something about you having a ‘hot date’” Marinette wasn’t bothered by Tim being around, but she’d been under the impression that he was going to be out.

Tim blushed and looked askance, “uh, no. I mean yes. I mean, I was hanging out with Rose earlier but it wasn’t a date.” Mari smirked but said nothing. She’d been given the full scoop on Tim and Rose Blackthorn’s mutual pining extravaganza by Steph and Harper. The general consensus seemed to be that it was only a matter of time until they started officially dating, but the siblings were enjoying teasing Tim in the meantime. Tim coughed and tried to compose himself, “she had to help her mom with something, so I came back to work on the Maxie Zeus case.”

“Sure thing, bro,” Mari replied breezily, with a playful wink. She happily ceded her workspace to Tim, since he was doing some active investigation, deciding to go upstairs in search of a snack. It was only as she was pulling some leftover chicken parm from the fridge that she realized that was the first time she called one of her new siblings brother or sister out loud. 

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Paris, Sunday

Zatanna Zatara really needed a nap. Between breaking the massive magical glamor on Paris, banishing the demon plaguing Hamburg, and a packed performance schedule in her personal life, she's had a busy few weeks. It was a stroke of luck she’d been doing shows in Europe anyways when the Silver Sorceress, her heroic identity, became needed in France. It was honestly disconcerting to find that even she had been affected by the attention deflecting power of the Miraculous, Paris being conspicuously absent from her touring schedule despite its size. 

Indeed, after the barrier went down and the immediate damage control from the terror of Hawkmoth was handled, The Stupendous Zatanna had made her proud return to the Parisian stage. She’d just finished the last show she’d be doing in Paris and for the tour when she’d gotten a message from Bruce last night, asking her to check in on a girl while she was still in the city. While she wanted nothing more than to retreat back to her hotel room and draw a bath, she’d instead donned her civvies, a leather jacket jeans and Haley’s Circus tee shirt, a gift from Dick in last year’s secret santa, and headed out for the Le Grand hotel. 

Zee couldn’t help but grow a bit wistful as she passed a little family run bookstore that reminded her of the one her mother, Sindella, had owned when she was a girl. As much as she loved performing, Zatanna was beginning to grow tired of her vagabond lifestyle. It’d been years since she’d really had a proper home of her own, living out of hotel rooms despite keeping most of her artifacts and personal effects in the old family home, Shadowcrest. Shadowcrest had been the ancestral home of the Zatara family for centuries, and was a veritable fortress of mystical power. 

Still she was feeling the urge to put down roots, at least for a while and she might have an excellent opportunity to do so. Maria Powers of the Powers Hotel and Casino had offered her a very generous contract for a residency. Gotham was sometimes called the Vegas of the east, due to New Jersey’s legalized gambling, but that wasn’t really fair since Gotham wasn’t nearly as reliant on the industry. In any event, it was one of the meccas of the stage magician’s world, always hungry for entertainment that could draw the masses. 

It seemed Veronica Cale opening up her own luxury hotel next to the Powers’, had prompted the old Gotham family to go looking for new draws to their business, and they wanted Zatanna. Between the new competition from Cale, who’d hired Scott Free to headline the opening, and Cobblepot bringing in Blackjack McCullough for the Iceberg Lounge, the Powers needed a big name act of their own. 

Zee had to admit relocating to Gotham had a certain attraction; it was her childhood home after all. The fact that she always felt a little claustrophobic in small towns probably had something to do with being born in one of the biggest cities in the world. Besides, she had friends in town, ‘ which is mostly a positive even if it means inevitably getting roped into babysitting at some point,’ Zatanna thought ruefully. The massive stack of cash the Powers were offering certainly didn’t hurt either. 

It wasn’t like Shadowcrest couldn’t be moved from Verona to Gotham, it had certainly been moved before. It had even been moved to Gotham before, sitting on the outskirts of the city until shortly after her mother’s death when her father decided to move it. Since most of the interior wasn’t in this dimension anyway, it would make the translocation spell fairly easy. It wasn’t worth it to shift the house to every stop on a tour, but if she was setting up shop in a single city for a while, it would be nice to be back in the family home.

Zee was forced to stop thinking about her potential move, when she crossed the street to arrive at La Grand Paris. The hotel was opulent to a fault, and notoriously owned by the embattled mayor, Andre Bourgeois. Zatanna wasn’t that plugged into local news but even she knew that the ongoing investigative series in Le Parisien had made some serious allegations of collusion between the mayor and the villain Hawkmoth. He’d so far been resisting calls for his resignation, but they were growing louder any day. Normally it was the kind of situation she’d steer well clear of, but unfortunately it was this man’s daughter that Bruce had asked her to do a wellness check on. ‘ That’s probably why the girl’s stopped responding, her father may be clamping down on any information leaks,’ Zatanna thought sourly as she walked up to the ornate doors. You had to give parents a certain amount of leeway in how they raised their children, but if the girl was being kept in poor conditions, Zatanna would be removing her from them, regardless of any political fallout. 

The instant Zatanna stepped into the Hotel, she sensed something was off. There was a scent of chaos magic in the air, never a good sign. She opened her third eye and discovered the traces of powerful magic radiating out of the penthouse suite; exactly where the girl she was looking for was supposed to live, ‘ great’.  

Zatanna made her way to the elevators, subtly weaving a few wards around herself as she did so, in preparation for a possible confrontation. Chaos magic could mean a lot of things, but the worst case scenario was Klarion, a villainous Lord of Chaos, was on the scene. While most of the Lords of Chaos and Order considered them above earthly matters most of the time, Klarion took a devilish sort of interest in the material plain, an opposite number to Nabu the Lord of Order that dwelt in Dr. Fate’s helmet.

As the elevator ascended Zatanna muttered, “ A Tnereffid Ecaf.” Mystic energy shimmered over her face, creating an illusion of a slightly older looking woman with a hawk like nose and red hair. Zatanna wasn’t exactly a celebrity, but she was a public figure even outside of her Silver Sorceress mask. On the off chance the mayor was a fan, she didn’t want him questioning why the magician Zatarra Zatanna was doing a child welfare check. 

Zee knocked on the penthouse door, braced for the worst, only to be met by one of the mayor’s bodyguard’s who denied her entry. Zatanna sighed and said, “ Ezeerf, Kcolnu” making the man stand still and the door unseal itself. She crossed the threshold to find a rather messy interior. If she had to guess, the mayor may have been keeping the housekeeping staff out. 

Speaking of the mayor, Andre Bourgeois was on his feet and blustering at her. “What is the meaning of this?! What did you do to Pierre? If you’re from the police, I’ve already cooperated-”

“I’m not with the police,” Zatanna replied evenly, scanning the area and seeing no sign of Chloe. “My name is Jeanette Leonne, I’m with child services,” she flashed a blank sheet of paper enchanted to make him believe it was the relevant credentials. “I’m here to do a wellness check on Chloe Bourgeois.” Ideally they could have alerted the actual French Child Services to do this, but there was a chance Andre could have used his clout to interfere in that case. 

“Chloe’s fine,” Andre said defensively. “I already told that school we’re transferring her to New York with her mother. I will not be harassed in a thinly veiled-”

“ Peels,” Zatanna invoked her magic, sending the mayor into a quick sleep. The man was obviously lying about his daughter’s whereabouts. There was potent magic afoot in this penthouse and she figured investigating it would lead her to the source of Chloe’s disappearance. 

Stepping over the large form of Andre, she made her way through the suite until she found the epicenter of magic, in what appeared to be a girl’s room. The room was largely lavender in color scheme, with white and gold accents throughout, but Zatanna wasn’t really paying attention with her normal eyes. Instead she was drawn to the barely sewn shut dimensional rift sitting next to the bed and the ambient magic leaking around it. 

The next ten minutes were consumed by Zatanna casting diagnostic charms to try and figure out the exact nature of the closed portal. Whoever had made it was either not very skilled with this sort of magic, or doing it in a hurry. Eventually she was able to work out three things. This was a targeted spell, set to lock on to someone, presumably Chloe’s, particular magical signature. ‘ Interesting, Bruce didn’t say anything about the girl being magically gifted.’ Secondly, the focus for the spell had been a precious gemstone, not that surprising given they made good conduits for several types of magic but a clue nonetheless. Finally, and worryingly, she knew the spell’s destination, the realm of the Lords of Chaos. 

Zee’s eyes widened like saucers as she realized what she was dealing with, Gemworld. It was a place she’d first heard of from her mother when she was very little, the largest hidden refuge of her people, the Homo Magi. Well, technically Zatanna was half Homo Magi, but pureblooded ones were incredibly rare these days anyway. They were a race that had developed in parallel with homo sapiens, possessing an inborn ability for direct magic as opposed to the rituals that channeled indirect magic utilized by human sorcerers. Her heritage was why Zatanna was an even more potent spellcaster than her father, Giovanni, since she combined his spellcraft with the natural magic of her mother’s people.

Most Homo Magi had retreated from the world nearly a thousand years ago during the last great Waning of magic. Magic as a force ebbed and flowed in its presence over the centuries. The Great Waning had been a massive reduction in ambient magic brought about by a star’s nova disrupting the stellar alignment. Magic had never disappeared completely, but it became harder to call upon and more precious as a result. It had only been in the last century when magic on earth had begun to increase again, surprising a great many would be mystics who suddenly found their ancient rituals calling on actual power. 

While some of the Homo Magi had retreated to hidden enclaves like the one her mother came from, the majority of the people had instead fled their dimension entirely. The sorceress Citrina had struck a bargain with the Lords of Chaos to turn a portion of their realm into a land for the fleeing Homo Magi to inhabit which would become Gemworld. It wasn’t recorded what the Lords of Chaos got in return, but Zatanna suspected Citrina must have paid dearly for such a deal. 

‘ Why on earth would someone on Gemworld snatch a random girl?’ Zatanna puzzled to herself as she paced back and forth. The residents had very rarely had contact with their original homeworld since abandoning it, which was part of why the information was so sparse. Zee herself was operating on half-remembered bedtime stories; she’d need to consult her father’s books, but even that might prove less than fruitful.

In any event, it looked like any move to Gotham would have to be delayed. There was a girl who’d been kidnapped from her home dimension and was likely very frightened. She was the Leaguer best suited for the mission, especially since the other prominent magic user on the team was Dr. Fate, who would be instantly attacked for entering the Realm of Chaos. “Looks like this is a job for the Silver Sorceress,” Zatanna said softly. 

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Titans Tower, Jump City, California, Sunday

Though he was trying to hide it, Dick was severely annoyed to be called into the Tower despite putting in for time off for the month after his newest sister’s arrival. If it had been a genuine emergency he wouldn’t have cared as much, but it ended up being something the rest of the team should have been able to handle. 

“Hey, sorry again Wing,” Beast Boy said sheepishly, “It’s just you and Cy are really the only guys who know how to run all the computer doohickies.”

Dick looked over from the computer he was working at, “and you didn’t call Cyborg, because?”

Beast Boy scratched the back of his head, “You know how he gets with HIVE stuff. I didn’t want to worry him if it turns out to be nothing.” Beast Boy’s old teammate from the Doom Patrol, Negative Man, had given him a tip about HIVE possibly resurfacing in Italy and asked Dick to help him investigate. HIVE, despite aspirations of world domination, was largely a super-mercenary factory, training and outfitting operatives for other villainous enterprises. They’d had several clashes with the Titans over the years, and, after a stint trying to infiltrate them, Cyborg had a particular animosity for them. They’d hoped they’d finally wiped the organization out when they’d arrested its leader, Queen Bee, the previous year but you could never be sure. 

Nightwing let out a sigh, but kept sifting through various data streams to see if he could find anything. He knew if he’d said no, Garfield would have just asked Oracle and his sister had enough work for the hero community on her plate. Most non-Bat heroes didn’t have a direct line to Barbara, but her past with the Titans when she was Batgirl meant the core team did. 

Dick tried not to be angry with Garfield, who he knew was just looking out for Victor. However, he’d be lying if he didn’t wish his green skinned friend would show the same consideration towards Dick.  It was probably a little bit Dick’s fault that he ended up getting asked for help all the time, since he always said yes and was loath to let on when things bothered him.

Other heroes tended to think of Nightwing as being all sunshine and rainbows, the odd one out amongst the gloomy Bats of Gotham. This was something of a false perception; oh, Dick generally tried to be a positive person, but he was by no means unacquainted with darkness. In truth he could be just as angst ridden as any of siblings. He just hid it better. Afterall he’d been a performer all his life, and he knew how to smile for the crowd.

If you wanted to psychoanalyze him, (like his Aunt Harley tended to do,) you might note that he had trouble being emotionally vulnerable. Then again, that sort of thing tended to happen when the worst moment of your entire life got plastered all over the internet. It wasn’t really surprising, his parents had died in front of a massive crowd in the modern era. It’d be strange if someone hadn’t caught it on video. 

Losing his parents was devastating, but the fact that everyone saw it happen was a further torture. His private tragedy was very public, despite Bruce’s best efforts to shield him from the press. Those first couple of years in particular had been rough, before the public realized the Waynes taking in orphans was going to be a thing. 

Dick hadn’t understood at first why Bruce was taking him in, and initially resented it. He’d have rather stayed with the circus, people who knew him and their parents. Unfortunately, or fortunately as it turned out, the majority of Haly’s Circus performers weren’t US citizens, leading to Dick being remanded to the state. Dick had ended up in Juvie for about a week, due to the overwhelmed system, before Bruce arrived and offered to make him his ward. At that point, Dick hadn’t really trusted the aristocrat, but it had seemed far better than his current situation, so he’d gone.

Those first months had been rough for both of them. Dick was a mess, equal parts angry and devastated, in a strange place he didn’t know and his entire life irrevocably changed. Bruce was trying his best but he wasn’t used to dealing with kids back then, and wasn’t the best at communicating when emotions were involved. 

Still, despite his initial doubts, Dick had come to realize Bruce was far more like him than he’d have thought and slowly but surely he’d opened his heart to a second father. Bruce had helped him transform his desire for vengeance on Tony Zucco, into a search for justice. The addition of his Ma, Selina, to the family roughly a year after Dick’s fostering had proven to be a catalyst for him and his Pa to get past their communication issues and express how much they meant to one another. Six months after that, the papers were signed and he went from a ward to a son. 

‘ Hmm, looks like the Doom Patrol might actually be on to something for once,’ Dick thought as he read through some local news reports out of Sicily. A series of disappearances, all young physically healthy people, was both alarming and fit the profile of how HIVE acquired its drones. They usually didn’t rely on straight up abduction, but they did lure in emotionally vulnerable prospective drones much like a cult. 

“Something fishy’s definitely going down in Palermo,” Nightwing offered to Beast Boy, who perked up like a rabbit at finding out the information was good. “Can’t say it’s HIVE, but definitely worth investigating.” 

“So we’re going in!” Beast Boy declared excitedly while slamming his fist into his palm. 

Dick held up a hand, “slow your roll BB. If this is HIVE, the Titans showing up in force will just send them to ground. This calls for some slow investigation.” He’d need to call his cousin, since Donna was probably their best bet of sending someone undercover in Italy. 

He gave Beast Boy a quick rundown of the plan. They’d send Donna to investigate with Garth as her backup. She was fluent in Italian and could hopefully pass as a local, or at least not draw too much attention while poking around. For the moment though, he was heading for the Zeta tube and on to Gotham. There was a family dinner at the Manor tonight, and Dick wasn’t going to miss Alfred’s lasagna. 

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Bruce’s Study, Wayne Manor, Sunday Night

Bruce was sitting in a large leather armchair, the very same chair he’d sat in the fateful evening the bat burst into the study. (Once again, he was trying to make his way through Great Expectations, more out of an obligation to Alfred than any love for Dickens.) He still didn’t really think of it as his study or his chair though; even after all this time, some part of his mind still regarded both as belonging to his father.

From the moment the bang of the gunshots reverberated from Crime Alley, Bruce thought he would give anything to have his parents back. However, no matter how he begged and pleaded with the police, the doctors, even with Alfred, they were gone and no amount of bargaining could bring them back. If it could, Bruce would have gladly traded away his fortune, his soul, his future, whatever it took just to get them back. In all honesty he thought he’d always be willing to make that bargain, until that fateful day, when he went to the circus, and discovered something he would never trade away.

As much as he still missed his parents and wished he’d had more time with them, he valued the family he’d found just as much if not more. If someone offered him a time machine, and it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility considering the oddities of his life since donning the cowl, he now knew he wouldn’t be tempted in the way he would be in his youth. 

Giving up on making his way through another chapter, he set the book to his side and turned his attention to his Wayne Tablet. There were a handful of minor notifications from Oracle, who was looking into the attack on the Maroni’s that happened while the Bats dealt with Toyman’s robots. Unfortunately, Barbara hadn’t been able to catch the assailant or assailants on any security cameras around the restaurant, meaning they didn’t have much to go on. Maybe he should try asking around as Matches Malone, see what the local organized criminal element knew. There were also a couple dozen messages in the Wayne Family chat, mostly the kids excited that they wouldn’t have to worry as much about being seen in public with Mari as much after the interview went live in the morning.

He was glad the interview had gone well and tentatively hopeful that Mari would receive less media attention than Dick, his eldest, or Damian, the first biological child, had. There’d be the usual rush of speculation that children were going to come crawling out of the woodwork given the popular conception that he’d spent four years sleeping his way around Europe and Asia. However, he honestly preferred for the tabloids to focus on him if it meant they weren’t harassing the kids. 

Despite his earlier manufactured reputation as a playboy, Bruce had in fact only ever slept with a rather small number of people; unfortunately one of them had been Talia Al Guhl.  He’d never begrudge the twins for their origin, but he didn’t have the warmest of feelings towards their biological mother. Trying to kill most of his kids, his cousin, and his wife multiple times tended to sour him on a person.

Not that he’d known he’d slept with Talia al Guhl at first, or indeed for several years after the event. He’d known her as Otiko, a fellow student of his last teacher, the martial arts master O-Sensei. There’d been a connection, at least on a physical level, and the two had slept together only a few weeks before Bruce left Japan to return to Gotham and begin his crusade.

It was only years later, when he came into conflict with the League of Assassins that he discovered his one time lover was in fact the Daughter of the Demon’s Head, and that she’d been sent by her father to steal the martial arts secrets of O-Sensei for the League. The fact that their one night stand had resulted in a child, or indeed two, had been a further surprise later down the line.

Again, it didn’t really matter to him where his kids came from. Bruce would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been considering bringing the obviously homeless Marinette home with him even before the revelation of her ancestry. While it was an exaggeration to say that he tried to adopt every orphan he met, he knew he had a tendency. 

To be perfectly honest, there was a fairly good chance Damian too would have become a Wayne regardless of his genetics once Bruce encountered him. After all, it wouldn’t be the first abused child assassin he’d welcomed into his heart and home. While Damian and Cassandra’s histories varied in the specifics, at the end of the day they were both painfully forged into weapons rather than being allowed to be the children they were. 

“Hi Bat.”

Bruce looked up to see his wife sauntering into the room. She had gone on patrol with Mari and Harper earlier that evening, and changed into a casual outfit of a tank top and sweats after getting back. Of course, dressed up or dressed down, Bruce thought Selina was the loveliest person he’d ever seen.

“Hi Cat,” Bruce replied as Selina crossed the room to him. She plopped down at his side in the large chair and snuggled into his side; it was a bit of a tight fit for two people, but both of them enjoyed the closeness.

“So you won’t believe what I read in the Gazette this morning,” Selina began slyly. 

“Hn,” Bruce responded with an inquisitive grunt. 

Selina rolled her eyes but continued anyways, “apparently after Toyman’s scheme to steal that old Grey Ghost action figure was foiled, some mysterious buyer swooped in to purchase it.”

Bruce stared resolutely down at his tablet. It was for naught, as Selina reached over and gently cupped his chin, lifting his eyes to stare into her own teasing ones. “Did you really shell out for a toy you’re not even going to play with, darling?”

“It’s not for me,” Bruce protested, “it’s for Harper’s birthday next month.”

Selina laughed musically and kissed Bruce softly before saying, “how you managed to convince one of our children to like that ancient show is beyond me.”

“Two,” Bruce replied with a rare smirk of his own. “Helena likes it too.’

Selina snorted, “Honey, Helena’s four . She likes the sounds and colors and spending time with her father. I assure you she’s not invested in a campy adventure show from the sixties.”

Bruce scowled until Selina playfully booped his nose, bringing a smile out of him despite himself. Having a loving family had really disrupted his brooding. 

Thankfully the Cat changed the subject, even if it was to one Bruce wasn’t relishing. “Steph asked to take an extra patrol again this week,” Selina said with a small frown. While all of the younger Waynes were obviously able to work more in their heroic identities during summer break, Stephanie had really been throwing herself into Batgirl duties over the last several months and both parents were a little concerned. While they compromised by allowing the kids to operate as heroes, they didn’t want them to neglect having a personal life.

“You think she’s still upset about Blue Beetle?”

Selina arched an eyebrow, “I think it doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to notice she’s been in the cowl more than she’s been out of it since they broke up.”

Bruce let out a heavy sigh as he leaned back against Selina’s side. The Wayne patriarch couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about Stephanie’s breakup with Jaime. It wasn’t that he’d forbidden her from seeing the boy or anything but he felt like the root cause of it nonetheless; even though Steph danced around the subject, it was fairly clear that her unwillingness to share her identity under the cowl with the other young hero, despite her knowing who Jaime was, had led to them breaking up. 

The Bats were quite zealous about keeping their alter egos separate. It wasn’t as if Jaime had volunteered his identity to Stephanie anyways, it had just been incredibly easy to figure it out, and his daughter was one hell of a detective. He wanted his kids to be happy and find love, but he couldn’t deny that not informing Jaime was probably the right call. He and Steph had been sort of dating for around two months, with him only being part of Young Justice for six, unlike Kori or Dinah, who knew the Bats for years before they were let in on the family secret; and if the boy was willing to end things so petulantly, it was likely in Bruce’s mind he wouldn’t have proved trustworthy enough in the end anyways. 

Perhaps that was being too harsh, but Bruce hadn’t been that impressed with the newest Beetle. Jaime had more or less stumbled into superheroics after the Scarab, a hi-tech device created by the previous Blue Beetle, Dan Garrett, had bonded to his spine. Well, at least they assumed it was created by Garrett, since he had used it during his time as the Beetle. The second Beetle, Ted Kord, had never utilized the device, but given his recent death, in the same explosion that led to Jaime discovering the Scarab, they couldn’t exactly ask him why. There were just a lot of unknowns surrounding the situation that made Bruce antsy. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Bruce decided. “How was patrolling with Marinette?” Mari had mostly patrolled with her siblings so far, and tonight was the first time either parent had partnered with her in the field.

“It was fun,” Selina said with a smirk, “the little kitten is a natural. It was just breaking up a few muggings and a break-in on 12th, but she handled herself quite well. Her stealth and sleight of hand could use some work, but she’s purrfect when it comes to fighting.” Selina was making a bit of an exaggeration in service of the pun, there was always room for improvement. However, it was the case that pure combat skills were the area where Marinette was the most on-par with her more formally trained siblings. 

“Good,” Bruce replied evenly, “any trouble with the ring?” Bruce was admittedly a little wary of the magical artifact that had attached itself to Marinette.

As far as Batman was concerned, while magic was demonstrably real, nine times out of ten most supposed magic was nothing of the sort. He’d confronted scores of cultists, conmen, would be mystics, and supposed monsters who proved to be simple criminals with a gimmick. He liked to think of most magic as simply being natural phenomena that science had yet to explain. Afterall, to the rational mind, nothing was inexplicable, merely unexplained. That was part of what made those times he stumbled into the world of genuine sorcery so disconcerting. 

Bruce didn’t hate magic per se, he was just a bit uncomfortable dealing with it. This largely stemmed from the fact that it was something he couldn’t really understand or master in the way he could conventional sciences, and that lack of understanding invited danger he was wary of. It upended the very logic that his reason rested upon. Magic forced him to rely on outside help more than he would like. In light of that, when confronted with magical threats or mysteries, Bruce followed a simple flowchart to deal with it.

Step 1: Call Zatanna, unless it’s obviously Greco-Roman, in which case Call Diana.

Step 2: If Z is busy, visit Jason Blood, likely unable to dispel it himself, but surprisingly knowledgeable.

Step 3: If Blood is unhelpful, try to contact Boston. Would be step 2, but it’s very tricky to call a ghost on the phone.

Step 4: If time critical and steps 1-3 have proven ineffective, contact the League to call on Dr. Fate. Fate was likely able to help, but too willing to sacrifice others in Bruce’s mind.

Step 5: Call Zatanna back, send Selina or one of the kids if necessary to guilt her.

Step 6: Call John Constantine. Call Z again. 

Selina rolled her eyes, “you worry too much, darling. On the off chance her ring shorted out or something she had one of Steph’s spare uniforms on underneath and I was there to back her up.” Selina nuzzled closer to her husband. “I know you don’t like relying on magic…”

“Because magic is unreliable,” Bruce interjected. The fact that one of Mari’s main abilities, Cataclysm, forced the ring into cooldown worried him.

Selina continued forcefully, “but, the miraculous is part of Mari just like Duke’s photokinesis is part of him. If you can’t trust the ring, trust her.”

Bruce was about to respond when both their phones went off with a League message. Checking it quickly, Bruce’s eyes snapped fully awake as he read Zatanna’s message. He and Selina shared a worried look; it seemed their troubles with magic were about to get a lot bigger than the reliability of Marinette’s ring.

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Deep in the Himalayas

A tall well muscled man sat cross legged in a room filled with steaming pools of water. The wooden structure had been constructed around a series of natural hot springs, which filled the area with clouds of hot steam. It was the man’s favorite meditation room at this particular base, and he had much to meditate upon.

After an entirely too long delay in his estimation, one of his mystics had finally been able to give an answer to the source of the electric attack on him and Talia. While the League’s rank and file were trained in the traditional ways, specialists in both mysticism and more modern technologies were also employed for situations such as this. 

He had to admit, a sympathetic magical assault that worked on bloodlines was an avenue of attack he had not thought previously to guard against, but that would be easily remedied. What was more important was the information they’d gained; there was another Al Guhl out there with the blood of the Detective in their veins. A potentially fortuitous discovery, if infuriating in that he had not known sooner. 

His daughter would have to be punished severely for her deception, but it did perhaps open new possibilities. While the girl was obviously inferior to her brother as a true Heir to the Demon’s Head, she may not have been as thoroughly poisoned by the Detective’s morals. At least not yet. 

He breathed deeply, sucking in the steam before letting it out in a long exhale and summoning his servant to bring him his robe. He opened his eerie emerald eyes and let his lips quirk into a cruel smirk. It was time for Ras Al Guhl to meet his granddaughter.

Chapter Text

Content Warning: Mentions of Suicide (Selina’s Backstory) and Cruelty to Children (Selina’s Backstory).

Batcave, Monday Afternoon

“I don’t care who took her; I’m going to get her back!” Marinette declared fiercely, slamming her hand down on the desk in front of the Batcomputer. The cat themed heroine was bristling with rage, her fist clenched, and her claws out. She was currently in the Batcave alongside Batman, Catwoman and Robin; all of them clustered in front of the large monitor of the Batcomputer, which was displaying a video call from the hero known as the Silver Sorceress, Zatanna Zatara.

“I understand you’re worried, Lady Noire,” Zatanna said as patiently as she could, “but, again, you need to consider the realities of this case.” They’d been going back and forth for the last ten minutes, after Zatanna finished informing them of the abduction of Chloe Bourgeois. 

“Lady Noire does have a point,” Damian said, supporting his twin. “Even if you’re handling the majority of the mission to this ‘Gemworld’, it is arrogant to proceed without backup.” Ironically, if Damian from four years ago had heard him make that statement, he would have scoffed; the current Robin had come a long way towards understanding the value of teamwork.

“It’s not a matter of backup not being potentially valuable, it’s a matter of you not being suitable as-”

Zatanna was cut off by a passionate Mari, “And you are suitable? I’ve saved Chloe a dozen times; I’m the one who knows her. She’s my friend. Who are you to tell me I’m not capable of rescuing her?” Mari was practically shouting in French at this point and pointing angrily at Zatanna. “I don’t know you, and I don’t trust you with something as important as Chloe’s safety. I’m going, whether you want me to or not!”

Zatanna let out an exasperated sigh and she rubbed her temple. “And how are you going to get there?”

That momentarily flummoxed Mari, giving Bruce a moment to interject, “I don’t think this is a fruitful course of discussion. Zatanna, please elaborate on your planned approach.”

Zatanna nodded, and began again more calmly. “Of course. I did not mean to disparage your capabilities Lady Noire. When I said you’re not suitable, that extends to most of the League and Titans, and it's because you’re human.”

Marinette folded her arms and gave the witch a flat look, “aren’t you a human as well?”

Zatanna gave the so-so gesture, “Kind of. Via my mother I’m part of an offshoot of humanity called Homo Magi; we’re broadly very similar to baseline humans but with a few key differences.”

“So, what, you’re like an Atlantean of some kind?” Mari asked skeptically. At this point it was well known that there was an entire splinter species of humanity, distinct from homo sapiens, that lived beneath the waves. While it was still somewhat shrouded in mystery, due to the difficulty in visiting it, Atlantis was now a fully functioning part of the international community and their history was part of the standard curriculum.

“Yes, except in our case, instead of developing the ability to breathe underwater and withstand the pressure of the depths, we have a quirk of genetics that causes us to produce internal mana,” Zatanna explained. 

“Okay; I understand that,” Mari said through gritted teeth, trying to force herself to remain calm, “but I already knew you were adept with magic. You may not have noticed, but I’m not exactly a novice when it comes to dealing with magic myself.” As if to emphasize her point, Mari’s eerie green cat’s eyes flared a little and tail-like braid swished. “Why is this a reason for me not to accompany you on this mission?”

“Because, as you may have noticed,” Zatanna responded, “there aren’t exactly a lot of Homo Magi hanging around and that’s for a reason. During the last great ebbing of magic, while some small groups of us retreated to hidden enclaves on Earth, like my mother’s ancestors, the majority of Homo Magi instead fled this dimension entirely, leaving for the land that would become known as Gemworld.”

“So you’re going to be better able to pass as a local,” Damian offered, “that’s useful, but not a reason to go entirely alone. The mission could be run like any other undercover operation, with you inquiring after the missing girl in the open, while your backup team remains hidden until needed.”

“In the abstract, I would tend to agree,” Zatanna said in a conciliatory tone. “However in this case, not passing for a local could be disastrous. Gemworld is located within the Realm of Chaos, home to the Lords of Chaos. I need to impress upon you that they are immensely powerful; even one Lord, Klarion, has proven to be among the League’s most difficult foes and they’re even more powerful in their home dimension. When Gemworld was established, a bargain was struck to allow Homo Magi to safely settle a portion of the realm, but only Homo Magi; anyone not of the subspecies would not have the same protections, and could very easily spark a larger disaster. That’s why I have to be the one to go; I’m the only Leaguer who can.”

Mari fidgeted, tapping her foot  and swishing her braid angrily. She hated this. She hated everything about this. Her Chloe was in danger and she could apparently do nothing to help save her. She’d have to rely on this woman she’d never met to rescue her friend from another freaking dimension, while she just waited around Gotham, being gawked at by paparazzi. 

“Fine,” she eventually bit out, before stomping off towards the elevators. She’d already been having a stressful day, monitoring the reactions to her interview with Mrs. Lane, and then this bombshell was dropped on her. Every part of her, minus the tiny voice of logic her emotions were drowning out, wanted to race to her friend’s rescue. If Zatanna didn’t control the only means of getting to Gemworld, she’d have gone on her own, whatever the witch or Batman said; Lords of Chaos be damned. She thumbed the ring on her finger, feeling Plagg’s energy resting within. ‘ I’m the Avatar of Destruction; if Miss Zatara fails, I’ll show these Lords what true chaos is…’

Bruce started to rise to go after her, but Selina put an arm on his shoulder, “give her a little time to cool off,” Selina advised, though her voice was tight. She could very much sympathize with how Mari must be feeling. “I’ll take her on patrol later tonight, try and help her burn off some of that energy.”

Zatanna gave an apologetic somber look at the remaining Bat Family on the other end of the call. “Please tell her I really am just prioritizing Chloe’s safety, here. I understand she wants to help, but saving the girl has to be our top priority.”

“She understands that,” Bruce said a little stiffly, but not unkindly, “I appreciate all you’re doing, Zee.”

“I promise you, Bruce. I’m going to save her. No matter what it takes.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Paris, Clemont’s Classroom, Monday

“This can’t be real, this has to be some very, VERY elaborate prank,” Alya Cessaire muttered to herself as she scanned the headline on her Lexpad for the twelfth time since she’d first seen it that morning. Her brain was simply refusing to process the words on the screen, because there was no WAY Marinette, the self obsessed egotist who was so cruel to her friend Lila, was actually the daughter of a billionaire.  

Yet as much as she wanted to deny it, Mari was staring back at her from the digital newspaper, smiling while she sat in Wayne Manor, flanked by Bruce Wayne and his wife Selina. (The picture had been taken by Tim, and was one of the only ones he managed to get without at least one of their siblings trying to sneak into the background of the shot. Even then, Carrie’s toe was barely visible poking out from behind the couch if you looked closely, but it was better than the one where Jason was giving Bruce the bunny ears.) It was preposterous, it was ridiculous, it was-

“I see I’m not the only one who saw the news,” Nino said somberly as he took the seat next to his girlfriend. Unlike Alya, Nino had never been fully comfortable with writing Mari off, and he’d only felt more guilty as time wore on, especially after Marinette was expelled from school. He sighed before donning a rueful grin, “at least she landed on her feet.”

Alya scowled at him, “why are you happy about this! This is terrible, she SO doesn’t deserve this.”

Nino frowned back, “I know you two fell out, but c’mon Alya, she was your friend too.”

“Until I found out what she was really like,” Alya scoffed. “I mean she was getting all chummy with Chloe of all people before they finally kicked her out. If that doesn’t show you her true colors, I don’t know what will.” The former queen bee herself had also disappeared from their class, though apparently in this case it was due to a sudden transfer. It honestly had taken Alya a little while to realize the blonde was gone, given how much she’d retreated from the rest of the class after Lila put her in her place. 

Nino grimaced but said nothing. This was basically the pattern of their conversation whenever Marinette was brought up after Alya decided she was firmly in Lila’s camp. 

Speaking of Lila, the girl in question was conspicuously absent from the classroom as the other students filed in, most of them whispering about the spreading news of Marinette’s parentage and new home.

Nino surveyed his other classmates to see how they were reacting to the news. Ivan, Mylene and Rose all looked some flavor of confused, clearly not sure how to process the news. Nathaniel, Max and Kim didn’t seem to be having much of a reaction one way or another, which was arguably fair. Marinette had been out of the class a long time, and now she apparently lived an ocean away; news of her parentage didn’t really have much bearing on their lives. 

Alix and Juleka both appeared somber, with the latter girl having red puffy eyes that indicated she may have been crying. While it was possible they were sad for another reason, Nino suspected they were upset to be reminded of how things had shaken out with their former class president. He doubted Juleka in particular had ever held any real animosity towards Mari. Rather, the shy girl had likely just gone with the flow of what the majority of the class were doing instead of provoking a social confrontation. ‘ Then again, can you say you didn’t do the same?’ Nino castigated himself. 

Sabrina seemed unfazed and kind of spacey, but then again, the girl had been pretty out of it since Chloe suddenly stopped showing up to class; Nino was fairly sure the girl seriously regretted siding with Lila against her old friend, in a similar way to how he felt like a piece of shit for not supporting Marinette more. 

Then there was Adrien, sitting in the back of the class, a grim expression on his face. It was a bit hard to judge his expression, since the model had been pretty dour in general since his father’s arrest. It was hard to say how the boy felt about Marinette’s new situation, and indeed whether the news had even penetrated. 

What Nino didn’t know was that Adrien was more than a little irked about this turn of events, as he’d vented to Tikki all morning. He’d disliked Marinette a bit ever since she started trying to disrupt the happy atmosphere of their class by calling out Lila’s occasional little fibs. Sure Adrien knew his girlfriend exaggerated sometimes, but that wasn’t a reason to cause a big scene and ruin everyone’s good time. The bluenette was a serious buzzkill, and the vigilante known as Bugboy couldn’t say he was that upset when she’d been expelled.

His anger at the moment, though, was born more out of jealousy. As much as his dad could be strict with him, there was a certain amount of privilege that had come along with being Gabriel Argeste’s son. A privilege that had largely evaporated after his father’s dramatic fall from grace, and one that Marinette now had, being the daughter of billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne. People who once idolized him, now looked at him with either suspicion or pity, and now little miss perfect class president was going to be an heiress. Everything always seemed to go perfectly for Marinette.  ‘ It’s just not fair!’ . 

—-

Rossi Home, Same Time

Lila Rossi was panicking. Okay, to be even more honest, Lila Rossi was freaking out. How in the HELL had Dupain-Cheng turned out to be a Wayne? The morning’s news had thrown enough of a wrench in her plans that she needed to fake being sick to buy some time and figure out what to do. 

This new information threatened Lila’s carefully constructed temple of lies on multiple fronts; despite her having all the traits of a compulsive liar, Lila was meticulously careful to keep track of the lies she’d told, at least the big ones and now several were in danger of being revealed. ‘ This is so stupid! Claiming to be friends with Stephie Wayne should have been entirely safe. She’s a celebrity, it’s not like she’s a real person,’ Lila fumed. This was just Jagged Stone all over again. Not only was Marinette turning out to be a Wayne going to be a problem if anyone brought up Lila’s claim to know the family, but it would also theoretically let the stupid cow continue to dispute Lila’s connection to the newly Gotham based Lady Noire, something she’d been doing from the beginning. 

“Okay, deep breaths, calm down, Lila” the girl chanted to herself. “Dupain-Cheng’s all the way in Gotham; she’s hardly likely to suddenly show back up in class and start causing trouble.” Marinette’s position as a Wayne disrupted some of Lila’s claims, but this was salvageable and she still wouldn’t have to deal with the girl fact checking her lies in person like she’d done before Lila managed to get her expelled.

She just needed to decide how to play it. She could tell her class that she and Mari had made up at some point, but that might get some of Mari’s old friends trying to contact her and that was no good, since the blue haired bitch would just start refuting her. She could claim the Waynes didn’t really like the girl, but had to let her into the family because Marinette had blackmailed them in some way. That could work, but it was tenuous and could run afoul of press that indicated the opposite. ‘ Ugh, it's so hard to come up with a good story when you have to account for what the news has to say about the story.’ That had been part of why she had befriended Alya in the first place, to control the press about Lady Noire and therefore the narrative surrounding the heroine she was claiming as her best friend.

After a moment she decided her best bet was to say Marinette was deceiving the Waynes, and had convinced Stephanie not to stay in contact with Lila. She’d play the victim and lay on the water works a bit, retread the old lines about how cruel Marinette was to her behind the scenes. It lined up well enough with how she’d characterized the girl during her initial takedown of the former class president, and should neatly explain the new turn of events. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Gotham City, Midnight Monday

Catwoman had never planned on being a superhero. She’d meant to be a criminal, really she did. Things just got away from her. She started by saving just one person and the whole thing kind of snowballed on her. 

If you wanted to go back to the beginning, she’d already been a criminal long before she was Catwoman. It was minor stuff, sure, mostly pickpocketing and later minor burglary, but they were crimes by the letter of the law. Growing up on the wrong side of the tracks with a wannabe mobster as a father tended to set you down on the wrong path in life. Your mother committing suicide, and ending up in an orphanage that was a front for a crime ring didn’t help either. 

By the time she was 8, she was being trained as a pickpocket by Madame Fortuna, the administrator of the Sprang Hall Juvenile Center where she was placed. (The orphanage and foster system in Gotham was truly abysmal back then and improving conditions within it had been her first major push as the head of the Wayne Foundation.) While she’d eventually escaped after Fortuna tried to kill her for snooping in her files, by drowning her in the Gotham River, and returned to steal said files and drop them off for the police, that kind of upbringing left its mark. She had been 13, on the streets, with no family, no friends, and only the skills Fortuna had taught her to her name, so the fact that she’d become a petty criminal really wasn’t that surprising

She’d lived rough in Gotham for years, living off pickpocketing, shoplifting and the occasional petty burglary. She’d learned to navigate the Gotham underworld as best she could, trying to avoid falling in with any one gang and maintain her independence, something she valued fiercely. It was during this time she’d fallen in with Holly, another girl living on the streets of Gotham and working on the wrong side of the law. They’d shared a flat until Selina’s eventual departure from the city, and the short blonde was arguably the only person Selina had trusted at that point in her life. 

She may have just continued on like that till either the law or the mafiosos caught up with her, if it hadn’t been for the day, around when she turned 17, she picked the wrong man’s pocket. He was a solidly built, prematurely white haired man with intensely unremarkable features, the kind of man your eye’s just glazed over in a crowd. His name was Stark, she never did figure out if it was meant to be his first or last name, and he was mildly impressed with her talent, impressed enough to bring her in as part of his planned heist of the Gotham Museum.

In retrospect her part had been small, just lifting a key card off of a guard at a gala, but it had been very formative for her. She could still remember how it felt, wearing a dress Stark had bought her that was nicer than any clothes she had ever owned, talking to the Gotham elite like she was one of them, her East Side accent having been ruthlessly expunged by Stark’s training, and taking the precious Cats Eye Jewels right out from under the noses of everyone. In that moment Selina knew two things, she wanted to be part of that glittering high society, and she was willing to steal to do so.

From there she’d become an apprentice of sorts to Stark for the next several years, accompanying him to Dublin, Buenos Aires and Rome for several further heists, learning new skills along the way. It wasn’t quite the world tour of training Bruce had undertaken, but it had put her well on her way to becoming a master thief.

Her apprenticeship with Stark ended the way all partnerships between thieves do, with a doublecross. They’d been going after a rare Incan necklace that was part of a traveling exhibit; it was meant to be their last big job in Rome before moving on. Only, it seemed Stark was tiring of his little hanger on; maybe the easiest way to complete the job meant sacrificing her, or maybe he was starting to view her as a competitor, like so many things about the man it remained a mystery to her. In any event, she’d been left still in the museum when the getaway car pulled away, and only managed to avoid the Italian authorities by the skin of her teeth.

Alone again, the then 21 year old Selina returned to the only home she’d ever known, Gotham City. However this time, she was planning to take it by storm. With her new skills, she had aspirations of becoming the world’s greatest cat burglar by night, and using her ill gotten gains to be one of Gotham’s elite by day. She’d even gone so far as to come up with a moniker for her costumed alter ego, Catwoman, named both for cat burglary and her longstanding love of felines.

It had all been planned out, she’d used the last of her money from her time with Stark to outfit herself with a suit and top of the line equipment. Catwoman was ready to make her debut. However, as fate would have it, the first day she’d suited up in the Bowery flat she was using as a base of operations, she’d heard sounds of a struggle happening below. A look out her window had revealed two men cornering a woman in the adjacent alleyway at knifepoint.

Selina didn’t think; she leapt from her window, using her whip to grab a nearby flagpole and slow her descent, crashing into one of the assailants feet first and knocking him out. The next one got a taste of her claws, slicing his knife wielding hand and drawing blood, before he turned tail and ran. Before she knew it the woman was thanking her profusely and Catwoman had just committed her first save as a superhero. 

She’d meant it to be a one off, a single good deed in her planned life of crime, but it just kept happening. She’d go to case a museum, and end up fighting a crazy man in a green bowler hat; she’d try scoping out a riverboat casino, only to finish the night saving the patrons from a bomb Joker had planted on the boat.

The people of Gotham were crying out for help every night, and she kept getting distracted from planning her opening heist by their pleas. Batman was beginning to make a difference in his war on crime, but it wasn’t enough. Selina just couldn’t ignore all the people she realized she had the ability to help. Besides, doing good felt good, it provided a kind of warm tingly feeling that somehow outshone any thrill she’d ever gotten from a heist. Six months after her return to Gotham she’d failed to commit a single major theft, and instead became known as the protector of the East End.

From there things continued to spiral further away from her initial plans. She met The Batman™ , and discovered underneath all the dark bulletproof fabric Bruce was a grumpy little kitten that she couldn’t help falling in love with. They worked some cases together, then it was a few midnight rendezvous, and before they knew it the two extremely paranoid people were trusting each other enough to lower their masks for one another. Before long it wasn’t Batman and Catwoman having steamy rooftop encounters, it was Bruce and Selina forging a serious courtship. Kate liked to joke back then about how two supremely emotionally damaged people somehow had the healthiest relationship she’d ever seen, but it was true. Bruce and Selina may have both been hurt by the world, but maybe that was part of why they just got one another so quickly, and why they’d never hurt each other.

That was before you took into account the red and yellow shadow that appeared behind Batman a little while into knowing him. It didn’t take long to figure out this Robin was Batman, or as she’d later know, Bruce’s son, even if the two weren’t admitting it at that point. She should have been repulsed; she’d never wanted children. Her own parents had been such abysmal failures of parenthood, she’d likely just mess up any kids of her own, but she wasn’t repulsed. If anything she’d felt an overwhelming need to look after the boy, who was clearly too young to be out there with him, to check him for injuries after a fight, to guard his blindspot at all times, or even just to fix his hair when the wind off of Gotham Bay made it go wild. 

Little by little, her criminal past became just that, her past, and her present and future became something else entirely. She’d become a superhero, and before long a wife and mother to a growing horde of kittens. Hell, she was part of the goddamn Justice League, even if she preferred to be a reservist most of the time. It was all a very far cry from where she’d started. 

It wasn’t like being good had been suddenly easy for her; she still had all her instincts from her life as a criminal and they were hard to ignore sometimes. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to work outside the law sometimes, well, further outside the law than she and her family already did as vigilantes. Selina knew being good was a choice, and it was one you had to make everyday. It’s part why she marveled so much at her kittens, who made that choice so easily, so naturally.

It had been a rough day for her newest kitten, little Marinette. Not only was the internet and the press abuzz with speculation about the newest Wayne, her best friend had apparently been kidnapped by extradimensional wizards. Somedays, Selina wondered how her life had gotten to a point that that sentence made perfect sense to her. 

Selina knew the best way to deal with a crap day: put on a costume and dance across the rooftops. While Bruce always couched things in terms of duty and the mission, Selina could freely admit she liked being Catwoman. She liked the freedom, the ability to do good personally, the flying against the stars, the adventure of it all. Did she love that it also tended to expose her to some of the worst of the scum of humanity? No, but you took the good with the bad. 

Besides, she knew deep down Bruce loved their nightlife too. He was an adventurer at heart, never quite growing up from the swashbuckling loving little boy who used to run around the manor pretending to be Zorro or the Grey Ghost. Both of them understood what they did wasn’t a game and they took it seriously, but there was no harm in having a little flair with your heroics. 

She knew Bruce felt conflicted about their decision to let their children follow them into superheroics, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t worry about it sometimes too. However on the whole she felt justified in letting her kittens follow in her footsteps.

Selina had battled shapeshifting alien invaders, defended the streets of Gotham from Neron’s hellspawn, and stood before the fire pits of Apokolips. Keeping her children locked away in the Manor may keep them safe from muggers, but it wouldn’t do anything to protect them from the bigger dangers of the wider universe. In a world of Red Lanterns, Dominators and New Gods, wrapping your children up in bullet proof fiber and training them to defend themselves just seemed like prudence.

Which was what led to Catwoman and Lady Noire swinging against the Gotham City skyline as they made their way towards the East End. Mari was a bit ahead of Selina and she could tell the young girl was still fuming, oscillating between anger and sorrow, but trying to keep it buried while they were on the job. They came to a rest atop the old mackerel cannery, a decently central location to observe the neighborhood.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Selina asked gently as she leaned against the cannery’s power transformer.

“No,” Marinette responded curtly, staring out across the rooftops and pointedly looking away from Selina.

‘ Well, I guess she might have inherited some of her father’s taciturn nature after all’ Selina thought wryly. The pair sat in somewhat awkward silence until a cry cut through the night and gave them the action they’d been looking for. Marinette slammed her staff into the ground and extended it to vault herself towards it, with Selina racing after her. It turned out to be an attempted mugging, and Selina let Mari handle it herself with a quick swing of her staff. While she had a long way to go learning the other tools of their trade, escapology, hacking, etc, Selina couldn’t deny the bluenette’s combat prowess. The senior Cat felt a bit of pride that she didn’t need to stop Marinette from using unnecessary force, even full of anger the girl was gentle. 

The night continued in much the same way from there, mostly stopping minor violent crimes, two more muggings and an attempted kidnapping. Around 3 in the morning Oracle came in over comms to direct them towards a disused factory on O’Neil Street where some of Two-Face’s old gang was rumored to be hanging around. Harvey was currently in Arkham, but his henchmen could be planning a breakout, or an old lieutenant could be trying to strike out on his own. They weren’t meeting that night, but Catwoman and Lady Noire placed bugs throughout the building to hopefully listen in on their next meeting.

Eventually they ended up back on the same canning plant, with dawn only about an hour away. It had been a longer patrol than they normally let the younger kids do, but Selina hoped it had let Mari get some of her nervous energy out. She looked over at the cat-eyed girl, who was leaning on her staff at the roof’s edge. ‘ Well she looks a little less tense,’ Selina thought hopefully as she walked over to sit next to Mari on the roof edge. 

After a moment, Marinette suddenly spoke, “she wasn’t always my friend, y’know?” Mari had slipped into French again, but luckily Selina was fluent.

“What was she, then?” Selina asked softly in the same language. If Marinette was less distraught she might tease the girl about how everyone started off as strangers more or less, but for the moment she just wanted to help Mari get her emotions out.

“She was my bully,” Mari explained to Selina’s surprise. “Or at least my rival. I guess I thought she was a bully before I encountered a real one. Next to Lila, Chloe seemed like a pussycat, even before we became… It doesn’t matter.”

“You didn’t get along,” Selina supplied.

“No. It wasn’t entirely her fault, her mother is the absolute worst,” Mari continued as she idly rolled her staff around in her hands. “She always had to be the best, to be perfect to even earn a smile from that woman, or five minutes of her father’s time. Me coming in and knocking her from the top of the class didn’t exactly make her home life any easier.”

“That’s not an excuse to bully you,” Selina said slowly. Marinette wouldn’t be the first of her children to downplay or minimize negative behavior towards them. She was proud of them for being empathetic, but wanted to encourage them to self advocate.

“I know, and so does she,” Mari whispered. Chloe had apologized for her hostile behavior a thousand times, and Chloe never apologized to anyone. Anyone besides Marinette. “Like I said, it was never that bad, just childish stuff, fighting for class president, grades, that sort of thing. It probably would’ve run its course even if Lila hadn’t…” Marinette trailed off again. Selina had been noticing she did that whenever this Lila came up, but she wouldn’t press for now. Mari would explain when she was ready to.

Mari looked up at the waning moon and sighed, “she’s wonderful, Chloe. She’s loyal, and caring, and confident and… I miss her.”

“It’s okay to miss her, kitten,” Selina said gently, “Zatanna’s really the best when it comes to dealing with this sort of situation. I know, I know how awful it is to not be able to help yourself.” Selina took a deep breath, “there was a time when your brother, Dick, and your cousin Donna were both captured on a mission off world. I wanted nothing more than to steal the Justice League Javelin and rush off to save them, but I couldn’t. The ship could only take so many Leaguers and we needed to send the members with the best chance of success; people who could speak the language of the planet they were on, survive in space, that sort of thing. I had to trust your aunt Diana to bring them home safe, even if it killed me every moment I wasn’t there fighting to save them.”

There was a bit more to the story than that; the Teen Titans had gone to Tamaran at the invitation of the king, Koriand’r’s uncle, who had reestablished his rule in the years since Starfire had come to earth, only to be caught up in a coup attempt by Starfire’s villainous sister Komand’r, aka Blackfire. She also left out the fact that part of what kept her in Gotham was that the mission coincided with the Joker’s last spree and Jason and Barbara were both in the hospital at the time, meaning Selina was being pulled strongly in two different directions.

Marinette nodded slowly, but didn’t respond right away. In the distance they could hear the low thrum of the city that never truly slept. Some would find the constant noisescape annoying but Selina loved it; Gotham was alive in a way almost nowhere else on earth was. Once you learned to listen, you could hear her heartbeat in the rhythm of the millions of feet pounding the pavement, feel her pulse in the expansion and contraction of the brickwork, and see her smile in the glittering lights of the soaring skyscrapers. 

“She’d be great at this. She’d be perfect as a new Wayne. Chloe would know exactly how to handle the press, how not to embarrass you,” Marinette let out after a minute.

Selina sighed, she knew it was outweighed by her worry for her friend, but it was obvious Mari was also stressing about publicly being known as the newest Wayne child. ‘ She probably read the gossip columns’ Selina guessed, even though they’d warned her not to. She knew exactly what Mari must have found, paragraph after paragraph castigating Bruce for having another bastard child, hypothesizing that Mari was only so eager to join the Wayne clan because she wanted her share of the inheritance, speculating that Selina was going to divorce Bruce over the whole situation. It was all ludicrous poppycock, utter trash, but if you read enough of it, the lies started to get to you even if you knew they were lies. 

The Wayne matriarch had a less than favorable opinion of the rags that reported on Gotham’s jet set, and really not that high an opinion of much of that jet set itself. Ironically, after marrying Bruce, she’d legitimately been elevated into that same high society she’d idolized when she was younger. However, it hadn’t taken long for that glittering world to lose its sheen. It only took a few galas on Bruce’s arm for a certain sect of Gotham’s bluebloods to decide she didn’t belong among them, and begin to make their displeasure known. It was enough to make her eager to slink back into the shadows, but something had caused her to take a different tactic.

Today, Selina Wayne was the undisputed Queen of Gotham, but that hadn’t always been the case or even her intention. Selina had basically conquered the social scene of Gotham in self-defense. She had been content to remain as aloof as possible, and avoid playing the socialite games people in her new tax bracket so seemed to delight in, until she heard the cruel whispers bandied about her first kitten. She could take them saying she didn’t belong and write it off as snooty aristocrats being idiots, but when they said Dick didn’t belong, she saw red. After that it was an easy decision, she’d play their games and win, and no one would dare insult her kittens again. 

Step by step, and with a generous amount of aid from her new sister-in-law, Kate, and Alfred, she’d gone from outsider to the biggest player in the whole game. The Wayne name was of course helpful, but much of her success came from how ruthless she was willing to be in service of her goal. She steadily grew her faction, vanquishing rivals and securing allies; it was far less thrilling than the fights she won as Catwoman, but perhaps no less impressive. By the time Cassandra joined the family, Selina was the undoubted ruler of Gotham’s silver spoon set, and no one observing her could ever guess she was anything less than a natural born aristocrat.

Alas, her rule was never that absolute. The whispers still came for each of her new kittens, circus brat, street trash, cuckoo, mute freak, charity case, and on and on, Selina’s heart breaking every time. In her eyes each of her children were perfect, but Gotham society never agreed. At least at first.

Inevitably, once the scandal of yet another orphan being taken in by the Waynes died down, people fell in love with her kittens, because how could you not? The public liked the Waynes, like a lot, and thought they purported to be above the will of the masses that had an effect on the black tie crowd too. Part of her wanted to claw out the throats of every hypocrite that was suddenly lauding them, but she stayed her hand. The whole point was to silence those whispers, so any revenge on Selina’s part had to be subtle and secondary. Her children were largely protected and that was enough. 

“I’m sure she’d do great,” Selina began, “but she’s not the newest Wayne. You are and I know you’ll do wonderfully.” It wouldn’t matter to Selina if Marinette flubbed every interview she ever gave, but she had come to know the girl enough to know she was far too competent for that to happen.

“I’m the newest Wayne because I have to be,” Mari said bitterly. “I’m only here by some… accident of blood. I’m not like the rest. I’m not remarkable, or special, or good like them. You didn’t choose me…” Her voice was very small by the time she finished.

Selina placed her hand atop Mari’s, “Mari, you are an incredible young woman. You basically fought for and saved an entire city by yourself for a whole year. Even if you ignore all that, you’re an intelligent, caring, and dedicated girl that anyone should be more than delighted to have in their family.”

Mari finally looked back at her, blinking back tears that were slipping out from behind her mask. “Why? Why are you so nice to me? I basically bombed into your perfect life, and I’m just going to mess everything up. Why do you want me here?” Her voice was cracking by the final question.

“Why not?” Selina asked, “why shouldn’t I want you to be my kid? Marinette, I am overjoyed to have you here, to welcome you into our family. You are sweet, and kind, and far more impressive than you give yourself credit for. You’re right, I did get to choose most of your siblings, but guess what?” She leaned in and stared into Mari’s eyes, emerald boring into emerald. “I choose you too.”

If anyone had been watching the rooftops that night, they’d have seen a smaller cat-like silhouette tackling a larger one into a hug. 

Selina could only smile as she ran her fingers through her daughter’s midnight blue hair. Choosing to be a hero may be something she struggled with from time to time, when the world felt too dark and twisted, but choosing her kids was the easiest choice she’d ever made. 

—-----

Later, Wayne Manor, Wee Hours of the Morning

Selina and Mari had both changed into sweats after hitting the showers, and now were sitting watching a movie, Cats Don’t Dance, in the Manor’s home theater. At first they’d just been sitting next to each other on the couch, Selina giving her space like she would a skittish alley cat, but an hour in Mari was now curled up against Selina’s side. Selina had to resist the urge to purr in satisfaction at the physical show of trust from her newest daughter.

“So, this Chloe girl, you care a lot about her?” Selina asked, while the ginger cat and blonde haired girl sang on screen.

“More than that, she’s… She’s my best friend,” Marinette explained haltingly. The phrase felt wholly inadequate to explain what Chloe had become to her. She was her rock, her anchor in the storm her life had devolved into and she really wanted her back.

“Hmm, is she maybe more than a friend?” Selina asked with a slight grin.

“What, no” a rosy cheeked Mari stammered,  “We uh, we’re not like that…”

Selina squeezed Mari’s shoulders, “whatever you say, kitten.” Selina paused for just a moment before continuing, “You know it’s totally okay to like girls right? Or guys and girls, or to not like anyone that way at all. Who you like won’t change anything about how much we care about you.”

“Oh, um, that’s good, I mean I kinda figured, with Cass and Kara and all…” Mari trailed off a bit embarrassed. Truth be told, she had been worried a bit about coming out to the Waynes on the flight over from France. However, it had become very clear very quickly that at least a few of her new siblings, and aunts were also queer, so she realized it wouldn’t be as big of an issue as she’d feared. She’d never gotten around to coming out to Tom and Sabine before they threw her out; sometimes she wondered if they would have cared one way or the other.

Selina smiled, “I thought you probably knew, but as I’m always telling your father, sometimes it’s important to say things out loud. I want to be clear that we’re going to love you, I’m going to love you no matter what, okay?”

“Okay,” Marinette sniffled as she curled closer into Selina’s side, just basking in the comfort and love she was so unused to. Nothing with the Dupain-Cheng’s was unconditional, everything was transactional, and she was still in awe of how different the Waynes were. 

Selina’s smile turned teasing, “so it’s totally fine if you want Chloe to be a bit more than a friend,” Selina had a pretty good sense for when one of her kids was crushing on someone, and the way Mari talked about the girl was a pretty good indication. 

“Uh, that’s good to know. But we’re just friends, Chloe’s way too good for someone like me anyways,” Marinette finished the last part quietly. 

Selina cupped Marinette’s cheek and stared into her eyes. “Nobody is too good for you, darling,” Selina declared fiercely. “You, Marinette, are extraordinary and you deserve to be happy.” She then leaned down to gently kiss Marinette on the forehead. 

There was no halting the waterworks this time as Mari clung tightly to Selina, who just gently soothed the girl for several minutes. 

“I just want her back,” Marinette sniffled after a while.

“She is coming back, kitten,” Selina cooed softly. “Zee’s going to have her back safe and sound before you know it.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Metropolis, Connecticut, A Few Days Later

Cass nearly sprinted off the bullet train when the doors finally opened at the central Metropolis station. The dark haired Wayne heiress was wearing a red silk button up blouse, blue designer high rise chinos, an unbuttoned azure double breasted blazer with gold colored buttons, and white low heeled sandals. A golden garnet pendant necklace she’d received as a birthday gift from Kara, her Waynewatch, a golden bracelet, and some sapphire stud earrings she’d ‘borrowed’ from her mother completed the look. She’d made a definite effort to dress up a little ahead of her date with Kara that afternoon, and may have purposefully worn the colors of the House of El because she knew how much the kryptonian girl liked it. 

The journey from Gotham, which sat on the southern shore of New Jersey, to Metropolis was a little over three hours, even by high speed rail. It was a transit Cass had become very familiar with in the last year and a half of dating Kara Kent.

Of course they did have faster ways to get together; the League had hidden Zeta stations in both cities, and of course Kara could fly far faster than a speeding bullet train, but today Cassandra had made the trip via more conventional means. It was one of the unexpected perils of having a long-distance relationship and secret identities at the same time; If either Cassandra Wayne or Kara Kent were recorded as being in both cities with not enough time in between for a civilian to have reasonably gotten there, people might start asking questions. It was particularly annoying to Cass during the school year, when the known time that school let out meant they had less wiggle room for plausible travel time.

It wasn’t a hard and fast thing; Kara flew to Wayne Manor all the time, and Cass frequently hacked utilized the zeta tubes, much to the chagrin of Mr. Terrific, since they were only supposed to be used for official league business. They just had to be a bit careful about it; sticking to the manor on those occasions Kara flew straight over after school, that sort of thing. However, Cassandra Wayne was something of a minor public figure, and one very much publicly dating the daughter of two renowned journalists, Kara Kent, considering Kara had been on her arm at several public events. In light of that, it made sense to let themselves be seen traveling between the cities conventionally from time to time, especially when there was heightened media scrutiny, like at the moment following the reveal of Cass’s newest sister.

Which led to Cass taking the train to the Big Apricot, and waiting impatiently throughout the ride to get to her girlfriend. She usually didn’t mind it that much, typically just practicing her observation skills on her fellow travelers, reviewing case notes on her phone, or just enjoying some music. However, today's journey hadn’t been terribly pleasant.

She’d been sat across from a couple that she gathered was on their way back from a weeklong vacation in Gotham, in particular to the new Cale Casino. Like most of her family, Cassandra was a habitual eavesdropper, born from their paranoia and practice intentionally surveilling criminals. The man was apologizing to his wife, or really offering excuses, for why he’d disappeared on her for the last two days of their trip. Cass wasn’t quite a perfect lie detector, but she could tell from the way the man held himself that he was keeping secrets and she’d deduced, based on that and a few other minor clues, a hint of lipstick, different in color from his wife’s that hadn’t fully been wiped off his jaw for instance, that he was having an affair. 

With his words the man was talking about how much he cared for his wife, and how she was making a big deal out of nothing and so on and so forth. However, his body language told a different story. Physically he was blaring a message of, “I’m mad at you for challenging me. You are of lesser value than I am.” When people said one thing with their words and another with their bodies, it always irked Cassandra somewhat. Well, that wasn’t quite right; she understood the need to lie, she did it all the time. Hell, even acting was learning to tell a story with your body and words that differed from your real life. What bothered her was the direction the lying was directed; you lied to villains and strangers, not to people you were supposed to love. The whole thing made her feel kind of sad.

However she shook it off and the feeling was quickly overtaken by the giddy anticipation of getting to go on a picnic with Kara. The blonde had been terribly sweet when she invited Cass the week prior; even though the two had been going out for sometime, Kara tended to put in a lot of effort into planning what she termed ‘proper dates’, as opposed to when they just chilled out at one of their homes. Cassandra found it kind of adorable how earnest Kara was, but then again she found most things about the blonde adorable. It was why she adored her.

As she exited the train station she considered hailing a taxi or ordering a rideshare, but decided to walk instead; she was feeling cooped up from being in the train for so long. Cass was heading for Centennial Park where she’d be meeting Kara, which was only a couple of blocks away. However, she was in a bit of a hurry to get to the date, so she decided to cut through an alley off of Reeves Street as a shortcut. Her stomach was rumbling and demanding some of the Kent Family chocolate chip cookies that would no doubt be in Kara’s picnic basket. They weren’t as good as Alfred’s shortbread gingersnaps, but they were a close second.

Unfortunately, the alley running behind the Mason Theatre wasn't as empty as it first appeared, when a tall figure suddenly stepped out from behind a dumpster, blocking her path. He was around 6’2, lean but somewhat muscled, with bleached blonde hair and twitchy brown eyes. More importantly though, he was holding a large bowie knife and stepping menacingly towards Cassandra.

“Alright sweet cheeks, this is how it’s gonna be,” the man threatened while licking his lips nervously. “Give me everything in your purse and all your jewelry now and you get to walk away from this. Scream, or say the S word, and you’ll be dead before you get to the N.”

Cass had to resist the urge to sigh in annoyance, which surely would have been a confusing reaction to the mugger. Looking at it from the outside, she shouldn’t really be surprised she was a promising target for this sort of crime. Even though it was unlikely he knew who she was, it was obvious she was rather wealthy; her entire outfit was designer and her white Coach purse was worth over 200$ even without its contents. Still, even dressed up for a date and not in her Black Bat costume, this guy wasn’t really a threat to her.

See, Cassandra Wayne wasn’t merely a trained vigilante, she was in the running for the best martial artist in the world. Really the only thing holding her back from beating out other contenders like her dad, her birth mother, O-Sensei, or Richard Dragon for the spot was her youth and relative lack of real combat experience. She could pretty easily disarm and subdue this guy on her own, but since she was in Metropolis, she decided to take a different course.

Pretending to be frightened, Cassandra cowered a bit and said, “please don’t hurt me,” while sneakily twisting a tiny knob on her bracelet. That particular piece of jewelry was arguably the most unique thing she wore, with the only other one like it sitting on the wrist of Lois Lane-Kent. Unheard by the mugger, an ultrasonic tone rang out through the city, inaudible to most but a clarion call to one person in particular.

The mugger didn’t even have time to step forward to take her things before there was a blur of red and blue interceding between them, solidifying to reveal a righteously angry Girl of Steel staring him in the face. That was the reason she’d elected to use her signal bracelet to call for help instead of just dealing with the thug herself; Cassandra found Kara being all protective incredibly attractive. 

“You really shouldn’t harass pretty visitors to our fair city,” Supergirl scolded, actually wagging her finger at the man, “you’re going to give Metropolis a bad reputation.” 

The mugger turned tail and tried to run, which just made Cass shake her head. There was absolutely no way he was outrunning a kryptonian and indeed, Kara zipped after him and in short order had him disarmed and slung over her shoulder. “I’m going to take him to the station on Robinson Avenue and then I’ll come pick you up Ms. Wayne, so you can give your statement,” Supergirl told Cass.

Cass put the back of her hand up to her forehead and swooned a little, “thank you so ever so much Supergirl.” She loved to tease Kara on the rare occasions they interacted with one of them in costume and the other out of it. Cass was rewarded with a blush from her girlfriend, before the girl zipped off to deliver the mugger to the authorities. 

—--

An Hour and a Half Later, Centennial Park

After a small delay for Cass and Supergirl to give a statement about the attempted mugging, including a particularly entertaining part where Supergirl pretended to hear an emergency happening, so she could zoom away and allow worried girlfriend Kara Kent to come pick up Cassandra, the pair had finally made it to the park. Kara had picked up a lovely spot in the shade of some cedars, and the two were currently cuddling atop the picnic blanket, Cass snuggling up into Kara’s shoulder.

“Mmmh,” Kara sighed contentedly. The pair had just finished their late lunch of stromboli from Bibbo’s, with sides of fruit salad and parmesan cheese crisps, along with the promised chocolate chip cookies. Despite her annoyance over her girlfriend being threatened and the delay it put on their date, she was feeling very happy; a big meal and her awesome girlfriend, what more did a kryptonian girl need?

“Like the food?” Cassandra asked, playfully raising an eyebrow.

“And the company,” Kara replied before leaning down to kiss Cass on the cheek. “You know you’d have been fine taking care of that guy yourself, right? There weren’t any cameras, and even then, people wouldn’t find it weird that you have some self defense training.”

“Didn’t want to mess up my outfit,” Cass replied teasingly, “Had a big date today. Besides, my girlfriend handled the guy.”

“Oh really?” Kara teased back.

“Yep,” Cass said with a wink, “Don’t know if you’ve heard of her, but she’s pretty Super.” Cassandra was privately very proud of herself for making a pun; it was something she was working on in speech therapy, wordplay and words with double meanings. She’d come quite a ways from being entirely nonverbal when her real parents first brought her home, but it was an ongoing process and some days were easier than others. In any event, she always found the words flowed freer with Kara.

Both girls descended into a fit of giggles, before Cass turned slightly and reached up a bit to return the kiss, though this time on Kara’s lips. “How was your week?” Cass asked after a moment.

“Good!” Kara said brightly. “I went to the aquarium with Alex, Nia, Toni and Winn and it was sooo cool Cass! They have this enormous manta ray that you’re allowed to touch and everything! Ooh, and these super cute otters, and twelve octopuses, and eighteen lionfishes; they were all just incredible! We should totally go sometime.” Kara enthusiastically babbled; even after living on earth for around six years, the daughter of a dead world still found the abundant flora and fauna of earth delightfully fascinating.

“I’d love to,” Cass replied happily, just enjoying listening to Kara ramble. Honestly she could spend all day just basking in Kara’s presence, which was so like the sun from which she drew her powers. “You look cute today,” Cass added.

Kara blushed again, “Thank you!” Kara was wearing a lovely yellow sundress with blue and black flowers embroidered on it and black ballet flats. Around her neck was a silver locket holding a picture of her and her family and a pair of small silver hoop earrings. (The process of piercing Kryptoian ears had been a saga unto itself.) Even though family colors weren’t nearly as much of a thing on Earth as it was on Krypton, the Wayne family was old enough that they did have them and they just so happened to be blue, black and yellow. “You look beautiful too! I mean you’re always beautiful of course but today is like WOW, I can’t believe this girl is dating someone like me. Like your outfit is so incredible, not that you’re not always stylish, I mean-”

Kara was cut off mid-ramble by Cass pressing another kiss onto her lips. Cass slung her left arm around and pulled Kara into a hug while kissing her, before eventually breaking from the kiss but continuing to hold her close. 

“Wow,” Kara breathed.

Cass smirked, “I’m glad you like it. The outfit.”

Kara smiled back, “right, just the outfit, totally.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Porky’s Bar, The Cauldron Neighborhood, Gotham, Early July, Night

Buster Malone slinked his way into the dilapidated watering hole that was Porky’s just as the clock struck midnight. It wasn’t a massive crowd on a Wednesday night, but there was a certain nervous energy that pervaded the bar, like violence waiting to be committed. That wasn’t unusual, if a night went by without at least one bar fight breaking out at Porky’s it was a miracle. The pub was located deep in the Cauldron which was considered a den of mob activity in the city, the Irish mobs in particular. It attracted a rough clientele and wasn’t a place you should step into if you weren’t ready and willing to fight back. 

Buster nodded at the bartender, an old stoolie called Pete, and took a seat at the bar. He ordered a whiskey neat (He wouldn’t actually be drinking it, but he wasn’t exactly chummy enough with Pete to get the man to slip him ginger ale instead.)  The place stank, and it took forever for the drink to come, but Buster didn’t mind. Porky’s had one thing going for it despite the danger, the dingy surroundings and the terrible service; it was one of the best places to hear information on the criminal goings on of Gotham, and that was what Buster Malone was after. 

See Buster Malone had another name, Jason Wayne. Buster, the supposed nephew of Matches Malone, was just an alias he used to gather information on the Gotham underworld. A red wig, eyepatch, color changing contact, fake scar across the cheek, false mustache and prosthetic nose assiduously applied with the hand of a trained makeup artist, turned one of Gotham’s favorite sons into a wannabe gangster. As far as anyone knew Buster was part of Matches’ arson and insurance fraud outfit, who did occasional side jobs as a second story man with his brother Eddie (Dick in his own disguise.)

“Hey Busto, haven’t seen you around in awhile, doc,” a voice said from behind as Jason felt an arm sling itself around his shoulders. Bugs O’Hare had taken the seat beside him and was instantly getting chummy.

“Aw, ya know how it is, Bugs,” Jason drawled, “hadda get outta town for awhile after the last job.” Bugs was a fixer and lucky for Jason, a pretty lousy one; the man had a tendency to spill his guts to anyone around if you watered him with a little booze. Jason gestured to the barman and ordered a round for Bugs.

“Ain’t you sweet, doc,” Bugs said as he eagerly grabbed his glass. 

“So y’know, since I’m back in town an’all,” Jason began after a moment, “I’m kinda lookin to make some dough. I heard Maroni might be hiring, any truth in it?”

Bugs' expression grew dark, and the man became a bit fidgety. Well, more fidgety than normal. “Don’t know where you heard that, Malone. Maroni ain’t hiring nobody anymore.”

“Oh?” Jason asked while he gestured to the bartender to refill Bugs’s glass.

“Yeah, new fella took their whole operation, plus a couple smaller dealers he’s got in his pocket. Calls himself Red Hood, but he’s not like them old Hoods, no fucking tuxedo for one,” Bugs explained.

The Red Hood was exactly what brought Jason out searching for clues that evening. The new wannabe mob boss had Jason feeling antsy, and not just because the guy was infringing on his favorite color. Even with how little they knew about him for sure, it was obvious that he was well trained, well outfitted and seemingly working towards a larger plan, a worrying combination.

“Is he Arkham or Blackgate?” Jason asked. It was shorthand among the mooks and henchmen of Gotham for if you were talking about a supervillain or a traditional criminal. The former was likely going to offer a higher potential payday, but also a significantly higher chance of getting yourself killed. 

“Dunno,” Bugs answered, “wears a mask like the capes, but he don’t seem as nutty as Two-Face or Mad Hatter. Only thing everyone seems to agree on is he’s dead dangerous”

Jason sniffed and scratched his chin, “sounds like he’s making moves. Might see if he’s hiring.”

Bugs looked around quickly and then leaned in before whispering, “I wouldn’t do that if I wuz you, doc. Ya didn’t hear it from me but word is Black Mask ain’t takin too kindly to the new guy, gonna put together a posse and,” Bugs mimed tying a noose and pulling it taught on his own neck.

Jason nodded, but didn’t push the man for more information. There was a delicate balance to be struck between getting intel, and avoiding giving away your cover when investigating under an alias. You couldn’t appear too interested in what you were after, and you needed to surround your inquiries with some more banal conversation to avoid tipping people off. No one was likely to make the leap that he was a Bat in disguise, but if he was too nosy they might think he was wearing a wire for the cops or a rival gang and things could go south very quickly.

So it was that Jason filled the next forty minutes casually talking with Bugs and a few other regulars like Sam and Sylvester, who shuffled in, mostly about how terrible the Gotham Knights were the previous season. Eventually Jason made an excuse of having to help Eddie with a ‘project’ and he stumbled out of the bar, purposefully acting a little tipsy.

He was only a few steps away from the door when he heard someone land heavily behind him, and all of his muscles instantly tensed. Jason turned around quickly while surreptitiously putting his thumb over the panic button hidden under the sleeve of Buster’s ratty old overcoat. Standing behind him, clad in his full body armor and strapped with a plethora of weapons was the very man he’d been investigating, Red Hood.

“Heard someone was asking about me, my ears are burning,” the red masked figure quipped in his staticky distorted voice. 

Jason hastily hit the button then held his hands up placatingly. Staying in character, he said “whoa, I was just lookin for some work. Didn’t mean no offense, Mr. Hood.” The guy must have Porky’s bugged to somehow know about Buster and Bugs’s conversation.

The man chuckled, which sounded slightly haunting through the voice filters. “Well, I’m always hiring; could always use some help, cleaning up these streets.”

Jason scrunched up his face in exaggerated confusion, “cleaning up the streets; you some kinda wannabe Batman?” That was new information, if it was true. Everything they knew about Red Hood said gangster, not vigilante.

“Oh I’m far better than the big bad Bat,” Red Hood said darkly. “You see he’s not willing to do the things this city needs.”

“And you are?” Jason asked warily, while noting the tiniest flash of red on a rooftop in his peripheral vision.

“I’m going to put a bullet between the eyes of the worst of the scum that plagues this city,” Red Hood said plainly, like he was discussing the weather. “But more importantly for you, Malone, I’m taking over the rackets so I can run them clean, no kids, no unnecessary violence and every one gets paid.”

If Jason were confronting the man in his Red Bat armor, he might give him a lengthy rant on how that was a terrible plan. Before you got into the seeming inherent contradiction of the man’s goals and methods, his philosophy on vigilantism ran entirely contrary to the rules Jason and his family lived by.

There was a reason the Bats didn’t use guns. There was a reason the Bats didn’t kill. There were good reasons the Bats didn’t just bash the heads in of every suspected criminal without evidence. And there were an absolute shit ton of reasons the Bats didn’t try to somehow stop the criminal underworld by running it themselves. 

Avoiding guns wasn’t something they did simply due to his dad’s personal dislike of them. They refrained from using those particular weapons for a variety of reasons. Most obvious was the difficulty of using them non-lethally; even things like rubber bullets and beanbag rounds ran the risk of causing fatal damage. As crime fighting tools, they lacked the ability to be finessed. Many of the weapons they did use, batarangs, swords, even whips, could be lethal, but were more easily used safely by a skilled practitioner. Secondarily, using guns would cede some of the symbolic power the Bats held. Jason hesitated to call it branding, but utilizing unique, or old fashioned weapons helped to build the mystique of the Batfamily. Using the same firearms would reinforce the idea that they were just other ordinary humans, and detract from the edge their supernatural tinged reputation gave them.

The family of vigilantes had to ride a fine line to defend Gotham City, and part of that meant purposefully veering away from the totalitarian control it seemed that Red Hood wanted. They weren’t cops, they didn’t pick people up for minor drug charges or bust illegal immigrants. The Bats maintained the trust of the people by acting like heroes, not tyrants. They especially didn’t go around acting like murderous tyrants.

‘ Seems he’s another idiot who doesn’t realize all the hell that would break loose if Batman started killing people’ Jason thought as Hood explained his manifesto.

Jason could admit he’d had similar thoughts to the crimson masked criminal at one point, thinking that they should kill the most unredeemable of the mad men they fought, or at least one laughing mad man in particular, but then again, he’d been twelve at the time. The argument he’d had with his dad about the issue had been illuminating to the younger Jason, and always stuck with him. (It had been a bit silly, in retrospect, to not realize Bruce had obviously considered the question along the way to becoming a vigilante.)

Even entirely setting aside the question of morality, there were very strong practical reasons Batman didn’t kill. For one, in the field you rarely had all the facts available to you and if you were willing to use lethal force, you constantly ran the risk of killing someone who later proved to be innocent, not to mention how you increased the risk to bystanders by escalating like that. 

Then there was the issue of public opinion; Batman was a symbol of fear, for sure, but he also needed to be a symbol of hope. A murderous Batman would quickly turn the people of the city against himself, making investigation that much harder as the community sheltered criminals from him to save their lives. 

You also had to consider the government’s response to a lethal Bat. The tentative relationship they had with the GCPD relied on the vigilantes not being killers. The Bats should not and could not be judge, jury and executioner. Commissioner Bullock was uncomfortable working with the Bats at the best of times. If they started killing people, you could bet the whole Wayne fortune the GCPD would make them public enemy number one. 

All of that would be sufficient to keep Batman from killing, but the moral issues made the rule ironclad. Some of it was down to a simple belief that humans shouldn’t kill their fellow man, but the issue was a bit more complicated, hinging on two key factors.

Despite his reputation for the grimmest, darkest member of the Justice League, Jason’s dad was arguably the biggest believer in people’s potential for redemption in the entire hero community. Batman had been the one to advocate the admission of former criminals, Plastic Man, Metamorpho, and Windfall, into the Justice League. As Bruce Wayne he’d donated millions to rehabilitation programs, and been a constant advocate for rehabilitative justice that reintegrated former criminals into society. Hades, Wayne Enterprises even had a host of programs focused on hiring ex-cons. 

And the thing was, Jason had seen time and again that his dad was right to think that way. Maybe it was too optimistic, and sure, sometimes your trust would be abused, but people can and did redeem themselves. If you needed more proof, just look at Harley and Ivy. The duo were considered two of the biggest threats in the Bat-family’s Rogue’s Gallery, and now Jason sat next to them at Thanksgiving and Passover. (Which was a wonderful thing even if Harley always ate the last of the matzo before Jason could.)

The last reason his dad had given him was the simple fact that killing also hurt the person that committed the act. It deadened you inside a bit each time, it diminished you. Obviously not everyone who killed became instantly evil, and there were certain extreme cases where it became necessary, but taking a life was a terrible thing, and something Bruce never wanted his children to have to do. 

However, Jason wasn’t about to say all of that to Red Hood at the moment; for one he was undercover and he also didn’t think the villain was really up for a philosophical debate. Instead he opted to just try and disengage as quickly as possible.

“Uh, look man. I’m just looking for a little dough here and there, I don’t wanna go in for some sort of crusade,” Jason said warily.

Red Hood rested his hand on one of his pistols in its holster and said, “see, I wasn’t exactly asking…” 

Jason made a split second decision and went on the offensive before Red Hood could draw his weapons. He went low as he closed the distance between them and swept his leg in a low sweep towards Red Hood’s knee. Red Hood dodged backwards, trying to put distance between them and use his gun, but Jason grabbed him by the elbow as he backed away and pulled him back towards him; if Red Hood wasn’t helmeted, Jason may have gone for a headbutt, but instead he hit him with a powerful punch to the gut, somewhat blunted by Hood’s armor. Hood furiously aimed a palm strike for Jason’s trachea and he only barely managed to duck under it.

It was the dead of night and rather overcast, so the only light came from a handful of flickering street lamps and the little that spilled from the window of Porky’s. In the dancing shadows the two men traded blows, a jab meeting a block, an elbow strike narrowly dodged. Jason kept up a furious offensive, maintaining contact with Red Hood, and punishing him whenever he tried to create distance. 

It wasn’t how Jason liked to fight if he could help it; he wasn’t Cass or Sandra. His Red Bat suit was actually the heaviest and most densely armored of the entire family, incorporating technology and defenses at the cost of some mobility and flexibility. He wasn’t quite the contortionist his mom or Dick was while he was in it. (After the Joker incident, Jason had felt more comfortable turning himself into a walking fortress.) He was also the family’s best marksman, incredibly skilled with batarangs, bolas, flechettes, and other ranged weaponry and preferred to take his targets down from a good distance if possible. However, in this situation, it made sense to keep Hood in a melee and unable to utilize the guns and grenades on his belt.

As they fought they shifted slightly, moving away from Porky’s and towards the street and that proved to be Jason’s undoing. One of the beater cars parked along the roadside apparently had an oil leak, and Jason missed the puddle in the dark. His foot slipped and he took a heavy punch to the face that sent him sprawling downward. He recovered quickly, but before he could fully stand up, Hood had a gun trained on his head and Jason froze. 

“Well aren’t you full of surprises, Buster,” Red Hood huffed. “Daddy Bats been giving you lessons?” 

“Dunno what you’re talkin about,” Jason replied. “I don’t hafta be a Bat to know how to rumble.”

“Hmm,” Hood mused, “perhaps you’re right. But if you are one of the pointy eared set under some latex mask…” Red Hood trailed off before saying, “well I was going to ask you to send a message to them, but that’s gonna be kinda hard with a bullet in your head.”

Jason prepared to try and quickly disarm the man, or at least get his head out of the line of fire, when there was a blur of movement from Porky’s roof. Hood's gun hand snapped into the air, and he shot off a round that just missed where Flamebird had been moments before. The vigilante had thrown two Bird-a-rangs at nearly the same moment and Hood had to duck backwards to avoid them, giving Jason a chance to break contact and roll behind an adjacent parked car. 

Bette was covering Jason’s information gathering mission that night, and had been listening into everything on comms. Normally it was a pretty boring gig to be the backup on this sort of thing, but Jason was very grateful his cousin had his back that night. As Flamebird engaged Red Hood, Jason quickly dashed into an adjoining alley.

He could have tried pressing the attack, but made the judgment call that he should focus on disengaging. He didn’t have his suit, or most of his equipment and would likely be a hindrance rather than a help to Bette as long as she was worrying about protecting him from Red Hood.

Flamebird leapt downward from the rooftop, her collapsable buckler snapping into its full shield form as she flew through the air. Red Hood kept up a consistent rain of fire from his twin pistols as he slowly walked backward from the heroine.  Bette deflected most of them with her shield as she charged forward, preparing to kick the guy who tried to merc her cousin’s teeth in.

However before she could close the distance, Hood stopped firing and reached into his pocket. Hood detached a dark object from the inside of his tactical jacket, pressed a button on it to make it blink red and tossed it into Porky's, shattering the window. “That’s another bomb; you have thirty seconds to try and save the scum inside. Or don’t. After all, I enjoy killing birds,” Hood growled, rather annoyed at Flamebird’s interruption.

The criminal seemed to understand the Bats enough to know they’d prioritize saving lives over apprehending the criminal, and was using it to his advantage. Bette dived into the pub, rolling through the shards of glass to grab the bomb. Improvising, she used some instant adhesive from her utility belt to affix the blinking bomb to an emergency flare she carried and fired the awkward projectile into the air. It didn’t fly as high as an unencumbered flare would, but it did get the Hood’s explosive into the air and away from bystanders before it went off in a mid sized explosion. The patrons of Porky’s were fleeing the bar in a panic, but thanks to Flamebird, no one was hurt. While her attention was on the bomb, Hood dropped a smoke pellet and made his retreat.

Jason had to resist every instinct to rush and check on his cousin, who was obviously a bit dinged up and shaken from the fight; she didn’t appear immoble from whatever injuries she’d sustained, so it wasn’t worth breaking cover. Buster Malone being seen helping a Bat, by the shell shocked patrons of the bar, or just the handful of bystanders drawn by the scuffle would basically ruin the identity for future information gathering. 

“-at, Red Bat can you hear me?” Bab’s tense voice asked in his ear. Jason realized it was rather odd that Oracle had been silent for the whole confrontation with the rising crime lord. 

Jason leaned against the alley wall and put his hand up to his hidden earpiece, “Red Bat here, Oracle.” It was thoroughly ingrained in them to always use codenames on comms, even in tense situations. “Missed hearing your voice,” Jason snarked. 

“I was jammed,” Barbara said thinly, in a way Jason knew meant his big sister was furious. Babs hated being out teched or having her access cut, and this was both. “Lost you half way through O’Hare’s anecdote about the carrot farm.” That had been around five minutes before Jason made his exit from the bar, perhaps indicating that’s when Red Hood arrived on the scene. 

“Hey, better late than never, O,” Jason said, trying to cheer her up. He then gave her a sitrep on his situation and a run down of his injuries, mostly bruises but he might want to have someone take a look at his face after that last punch he took. Honestly it was a miracle his prosthetic nose didn’t come off. Babs directed him to weave two alleys over to meet Robin, who was bringing the Batmobile to come pick him up.

“Sorry for the late rescue,” Bette said grimly over the line. Jason could no longer see Flamebird, but presumably his cousin was still nearby. Oracle had directed her in the opposite direction, in case they were being tailed, and she’d be being picked up by Diana in her invisible jet a few rooftops over. 

“Yeah, what took you so long?” Jason asked with forced levity, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“When I moved to the rooftop in Hood’s blindspot, I found a time bomb counting down and I had to defuse it,” Bette explained. 

Jason’s eyes widened, but he kept walking. “How did he know to plant that?”

“It was the same rooftop he came from when he jumped down next to you,” Bette told him. “I think he must have dropped it there as he made his approach. I sort of stumbled over it as I was trying to get behind him, and that’s why I moved back to Porky’s roof after disarming it; wasn’t sure if he left any other presents up there.”

“I don’t think the bomb was meant for you at all, Bette. It was probably his planned escape option, a big boom and fire to distract anyone if he had to get away,” Babs reasoned, “the smaller bomb he tossed into Porky’s must have been a backup.” It was a smart tactic, but the kind you could only use if you didn’t care about collateral damage.

The three continued to discuss what had happened, and what they had learned as Damian and Diana brought Jason and Bette back towards home. Jason had known Red Hood had some training, but tonight showed just how much. He was also obviously a forward thinker, planning escape routes and contingencies, bugging and gathering information, and having a firm awareness of his surroundings. That was going to be a pain; even more than extranormal abilities, truly intelligent villains were among the hardest to deal with. It’s what made Two Face such a big threat despite essentially just being a lawyer with a skin condition.

In any event, despite gathering quite a bit of information on Hood’s objectives and his methods, Jason was ending the night feeling more uneasy rather than less. Tonight was just the opening skirmish; he worried the war with Hood was just beginning. 

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Gotham Shopping District, Friday, Early July, The Next Day

Camera bulbs flashed as Marinette strode from the car towards the high end fashion boutique, L’aguille. She thought the name was a little funny, because it literally just meant ‘the needle’ in French, but she was quickly discovering that even banal phrases in her mother tongue sounded exotic and fancy on this side of the pond. In any event it was supposed to be a rather exclusive shop, and Marinette was actually rather excited for the final stop of the day’s excursion.

Marinette wasn’t alone, Selina, Stephanie, Cassandra, Harper, and Carrie were all with her, a majority of the Wayne women. (Babs had work at the Gotham Central Library that day, and Helena was with Bruce at her swim lesson.) The six of them had gone out to brunch that morning, then went to the Dionysium Theatre for a matinee of Guns and Molls, before coming uptown for a shopping spree. The only downside to the day was that the entire time they’d been hounded by paparazzi, the source of the flashing cameras, whenever they were entering or exiting a location. (Naturally the photographers were barred from the restaurant and theater themselves.) 

Then again, that paparazzi was sort of the whole point of today’s expedition. Marinette Wayne was news now, and this was her planned first outing with the family in public. Bruce’s PR person, Celeste Fitzpatrick, had strongly suggested they have Mari and Selina be seen together, to stave off any rumors of Marinette’s bastard status causing strife between Selina and Bruce. Marinette was happy to help in that respect, already furious at what some of the papers had insinuated about her and the Waynes. 

So yeah, sure, the brunch and shopping was serving the dual purpose of getting Bruce’s PR lady off his back, and also demonstrating to the world that she had a good relationship with Selina, but Mari was actually having a really good time. (She also found it a bit ridiculous that she had to prove to people she and Selina like one another; Selina was obviously delightful.) Brunch was delicious. The show had been hysterical; Cass’s excitement had been infectious, and her sister bombarded them with trivia and her thoughts about the show until the curtain was raised. Finally, they were hitting the row of fancy clothing shops L’aguille sat on, and despite Mari protesting she was fine with just window shopping, Selina had smirked and told her she souldn’t be leaving with less than three bags. 

Being in a fashion boutique was like being in a candy store for Marinette, and she was already salivating over some of the dresses she saw. Before long, she had armfuls of things to try on, and the family had taken over a small wing of changing rooms, taking turns trying things on and showing them to each other. In the changing room, Marinette had a moment of calm to reflect as she doffed her white shrug. 

She’d had a very peculiar dream the night before and it was weighing on her thoughts. The substance of the dream wasn’t that strange in of itself; she had been back in France fighting off an Akuma attack, something she’d dreamt of a thousand times probably because it had happened so much in real life. No, the strange part of her dream had been that it was in English, from the monologuing villain to Bugboy’s unwanted flirting, to her own quips. 

Maybe it wasn’t so strange; she was speaking English almost constantly these days, desperately determined to be at full fluency by the time school resumed in late August. Still, it was yet another sign of how she was changing the longer she was with the Waynes.

‘ Honestly, I can’t say they’re bad changes’ Marinette reflected as she twirled the yellow and black dress she was trying on, to let Selina and her siblings get a better look. While part of her was still constantly worrying over Chloe, she’d actually been feeling considerably less anxious in the weeks following her cathartic rooftop talk with Selina. Really, the longer she was with the Waynes, the better she was feeling day to day. Apparently having a supportive family and stable home life was great for your self confidence and stress levels, who knew?

After she’d calmed down enough to hear Zatanna out more, the spellcaster had explained her plan in more detail. She was going to be using a dimensional shift to travel to gemworld, and from there track Chloe with a sympathetic scrying spell anchored to some of the girl’s hair Zee had collected from her room. Essentially she’d have a compass that pointed towards Chloe, rather than north. Gemworld was unfortunately, apparently quite large, roughly the size of an Earth continent, and even with magic speeding her travel, it would likely take some time for Zatanna to find and catch up with Chloe. Due to the differing dimensions, Zatanna wouldn’t be able to keep in constant contact, which was more than a little annoying, since the rescue mission was potentially going to take quite some time. It had been a few weeks already, and unfortunately all Mari could do was wait and hope. 

“Mari, you’re getting that dress,” Stephanie informed her in a voice that brooked no disagreement.

Cass gave her a thumbs up and Harper added, “Seriously, it looks fantastic, sis.”

Mari blushed a little from the praise and looked again in the mirror, deciding she really did like the lines and the colors of the dress. She decided she’d take it.

After some time, and quite a few more dresses, skirts, blouses, and more being added to the pile, Mari was back in the clothes she’d worn in. She sat, somewhat tiredly down next to Selina, and prepared for Harper to give them her own little fashion show. 

“Having a good time, kitten?” Selina asked as she put an arm around Mari and let the shorter girl lean into her. 

“Absolutely,” Mari said with a smile, bringing herself back to the present. It really had been a surprisingly enjoyable day so far, considering how much attention Mari knew they were drawing. She thought she was going to be a bundle of anxiety the whole day, but her new family had a remarkable ability to put her at ease. Laughing at a dumb joke Stephanie made, or listening intently as Harper talked about Gotham’s incredible architecture, she found herself constantly forgetting the photographers trying to snap a pic. 

She was glad they’d decided to proceed with the planned trip; there had been a discussion of whether they should postpone in light of Jason and Bette’s confrontation with Red Hood the previous night. However, in the end they decided to keep the planned patrol schedule, since they really didn’t have any more information about where Red Hood was to go after him in force. All of them were obviously more than a little concerned about the close call that Jason had the previous night, but they couldn’t betray that worry in public. Mari just kept reminding herself, her brother and cousin were fine and largely uninjured.  

“What do you think?” Harper asked. She was trying on a light green tie front blouse for the others to see.

“Hmm, I like the style, but maybe in a darker color?” Mari opined; With Harper’s complexion she thought a forest green might work better than the lime. 

“We can fetch that for you, miss Wayne,” the salesperson, Kiyoko interjected.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Mari replied as the short bespectacled woman dashed off into the store to find the shirt in a darker shade. She was still really unused to both being attended by a private shopper, and being referred to as miss Wayne. She supposed she’d have to get accustomed to both.

As the Wayne women continued to chatter and enjoy their shopping trip, Kiyoko slunk back into the store, keeping her features carefully neutral. Serving the rich and powerful took a certain level of finesse and decorum, and every employee at L’aguille had been instructed in the proper etiquette. Of course, that training paled in comparison to the intensive training in deception and stealth Kiyoko had undergone. 

For she wasn’t in truth Kiyoko Renyolds college student and part time shop assistant. That was merely the cover she wore in Gotham. Unknown to Marinette, in addition to the public scrutiny of the Gotham press, she’d been subjected to another sort of surveillance throughout the day. There were many pairs of eyes upon her and one of those pairs belonged to the supposed Kiyoko, an agent of the League of Assassins. 

The girl was in no danger from the highly trained killer that day; her mission was merely to observe and report. She was one of only a handful of agents Ra’s managed to keep in the Detective’s city, and all of them had been instructed to learn all they could about Marinette Wayne without giving themselves away. Kiyoko would fetch the clothes, smile nervously, try to earn a big commision, and angle for a tip, all the while cataloging every little move the young Frenchwoman made. She didn’t know why, it was above her station to know, but this girl had earned the attention of the Demon’s Head. 

Of course, should the order come, the spoiled brat would have no warning before the friendly shop assistant shot a poisoned dart into her neck. 

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Waters off of Themyscira, Mid July

Mercy Graves had to resist the urge to panic as she exited the tiny stealth submersible. The Mediterranean was freezing, but more to the point, she was several hundred feet below the surface and a part of her mind was screaming that she’d never have enough oxygen to survive swimming to the surface. It was a psychological discomfort borne purely of habit, her lung capacity was just one of many things Mr. Luthor had improved. 

You see, Mercy Graves wasn’t entirely human anymore. Cyborg might be the correct term, though it was a bit more complicated with some of her alterations being bionic rather than cybernetic. In any event, she’d been thoroughly enhanced across the spectrum, to make her the perfect operative. Mr. Luthor had spared no expense, only shying away from alterations that would have prevented her from passing as baseline human in terms of appearance. He wouldn’t allow for a less than perfectly presentable shadow after all. 

Mercy kicked as she ascended through the dark sea; they’d luckily timed the infiltration with the new moon, which minimized the ambient light. She was wearing a tight all black dive suit, but wasn’t equipped with an oxygen tank or aquascrubber. Next to her she could dimly see the pack containing her equipment being buoyed to the top by a fast inflating balloon.

With a tiny splash she broke the surface and after a moment her eyes adjusted to the darkness, casting the sea and the shore in the pale green of her artificial eye’s night vision. She grabbed hold of her watertight pack and kicked for the shore, eager to get out of the open sea before a roaming Amazon sentry spotted her. 

She made it shore side and quickly took shelter under an overhanging rock; from her pack she pulled out a set of Amazonian dress, a long white tunic with simple red embroidery, tall ancient looking sandals, and simple leather bracers. Her ability to plausibly pass for an Amazon was part of the reason she’d been selected for this mission over Luthor’s other favored agent, Otis Beatty. That, and the fact that Lex knew Mercy Graves would pursue the objective with all her strength until the job was done, or she perished.

Mercy’s loyalty to Luthor was absolute, after all he’d programmed her that way. A series of failsafes and redundancies literally welded onto her nervous system ensured she could not disobey a command, and even if they were somehow circumvented, there was always the bomb in her head, a little trick Luthor had picked up from Amanda Waller before her downfall.  

She’d been a person once, with hopes, dreams and concerns of her own, but now she was Luthor’s tool pure and simple. It was a pedestrian sort of story when you got down to it. Her sister, Lisa, had needed treatment, an expensive, experimental treatment that Mercy could by no means afford on her administrative assistant’s salary. It had looked like there was no way to save her, until Lex Luthor appeared with an offer and a contract. Mercy’s absolute servitude for twenty years, in return for her sister’s life. (She didn’t think there was any kindness in the given time limit, rather an expectation that her aging human components would make her obsolete by that point.)

So, Mercy Graves had become Luthor’s top henchwoman, part bodyguard, part secretary, deceptively powerful and flawlessly loyal. Most of the time she didn’t think of before she’d been made into his servant, or what she would do after if it ever really came. It was easier that way.

Her disguise in place, she moved the remainder of her gear from the watertight bag to an ancient-style satchel that could pass for Themysciran. She slowly made her way up from the shore towards the palace, appearing to any onlookers as nothing more than a redheaded, slightly short Amazon. 

Still, she was careful to avoid the main thoroughfare as she slunk off towards the Palace gardens. Themyscira’s population wasn’t quite so small that everyone knew everyone, especially when you accounted for the occasional visitor from Bahna-Migdall, but it was close. A woman nobody knew heading for the Queen’s home could certainly raise an eyebrow, so she aimed to stay out of sight as much as possible.

Luckily they’d timed the night of her infiltration to coincide with the Mourning Feast of Adonis, a yearly holiday in Themyscira. Despite most of the wider world using the names Themyscira and Paradise Island interchangeably, they actually denoted slightly different things; Themyscira was the name of the entire small archipelago that the Amazons called home, while Paradise Island was the biggest of the islands where a plurality of the population lived and the royal palace sat. The ritual feast for Aphrodite’s slain follower took place on the small northernmost island, making Paradise Island almost a ghost town for the evening, with only a small guard contingent remaining for Mercy to contend with.

‘ Really, Wondy’s an idiot for blabbing all of this to everyone in the name of “Cultural Understanding”’ Mercy thought darkly as she darted through the Palace gardens. She was still in the section open to all islanders, but she was fast approaching the palace walls itself. 

As she neared the edge of the public space, she checked to make sure she wasn’t currently in the eyeline of any guards and thumbed a small device embedded in her left palm. The light around her shimmered as she turned invisible. Well, not truly invisible, if you looked closely you could discern the blurred light where she stood, but incredibly well camouflage through a system of tiny optical sensors and holo-emitters. 

It was cutting edge technology that Lex had created after he managed to get his hands on some of Dr. Light’s designs; the fall of Amanda Waller had really been a feeding frenzy for anyone looking to get their hands on archived supervillain tech. Unfortunately it only lasted about five minutes before the photonic cells burned out, so she had to be quick.

Mercy dashed through the garden, to arrive at the massive solid marble wall of the Palace’s west side. She fished out of her satchel a small capsule that she crushed in her hand to reveal a mass of black goo. The inky amoeba quivered, then surged, engulfing her body entirely as it stretched over her and she felt a deep chill in her bones, both the normal and the metal ones. Stepping forward, she walked through the stone edifice like it wasn’t there, completely phasing through.

The dark ink was actually a captured bit of matter from the Shadowlands, a still poorly understood dimension. Lex had acquired it while working with Carl Sands, the Shadow Thief, and exposure to it could allow someone to become momentarily intangible, something Mercy was taking advantage of. (Direct contact with this matter was also terrible for one’s long term health, but that was a sacrifice Luthor was willing to have Mercy make.)

She utilized the intangibility until it ran out, descending several floors and just passing the threshold of the vaults before she became both tangible and visible again. There were guards posted outside the heavy doors, obviously, but she’d bypassed those and for the moment she was alone inside the cavernous vaults. A long pink marble hallway stretched before her, with dozens of doors leading to different sub-vaults lining it, and a larger, heavily barred obsidian door sitting at the end. 

Mercy’s left eye flared green as it scanned and conducted a dimensional analysis of the surrounding area; Luthor hadn’t quite been able to recreate his hated foe’s x-ray vision, but he’d come close, and Mercy soon had an extrapolated architectural layout of the vault’s in her brain and overlaying her vision. That told her the rough size and shape of all the rooms, but not which held her goal. 

Reaching into the satchel again she pulled out a bronze compass like device. Unlike the rest of her equipment, this wasn’t Lex Luthor tech, rather something her boss had bargained for from Gustav Decobra’s master. Mercy had no idea how it worked, but theoretically it was attuned to a particular magical signature or something like that. Either way, it should be pointing her towards her quarry, which seemed to be in the third door down on the left.

The solid metal door was predictably locked, and based on the sigils drawn around the door frame, protected by some sort of voodoo. Mercy then pulled out yet another tool, this one a metal case that opened to reveal what appeared to be a simple flat black circle. However, when the henchwoman picked it up and flung it onto the door, it clung and created a portal to the other side of the door. If one looked closely, it hadn’t actually made contact with the door itself, instead sticking to the mystical forcefield a few centimeters from the metal, but it created a passageway nonetheless.

Despite his idiotic name, reputation and demeanor, Abner Krill, better known as Polka Dot Man, had actually invented something incredible. Most of the dots were just delivery devices for fairly conventional technology, the green ones were buzz saws, the yellow ones floating platforms and so on. However, the black dot was a truly impressive bit of dimensional manipulation, creating passageways that totally bypassed the intervening materials. Once again, they had Amanda Waller to thank for Krill’s suit being obtainable. The man had been on one of the last incarnations of the Suicide Squad before its permanent dissolution, and in the chaos of Waller’s fall, Lex had been able to place a few bribes and gain possession of the horrendous looking costume.

Mercy rolled through the small opening and found herself in a sandstone room, with many raised daisies, each holding a small ornament under a glass case, the Miraculouses, minus Creation and Destruction. Mercy moved quickly, only having a short time before the polka dot fizzled out. Her finger shifted to reveal a complex multitool that she then inserted into the lock of the first case, letting the tool pick its way through the lock. After a moment, it clicked, and she was able to raise the lid and take the first of her prizes, replacing it with a replica she’d brought with her. She had just enough time to repeat the process with one more Miraculous, before she needed to leap through the polka dot portal, just before it collapsed.

She slipped the prizes into her satchel, and pulled out one last piece of equipment, a roughly laptop sized explosive device. She made her way to the end of the hallway and affixed the bomb with spray adhesive to the great obsidian door. She then hurried back to the other end of the hall and leveled her hand at the first door on the right from the entrance.

‘ Right, that’s the subtle part down,’ Mercy declared internally, ‘ now it’s time to get loud.’

Her fingers split apart and her arm opened up in three pieces to reveal the plasma cannon that sat in her right arm. A pulsing series of blasts turned the door to slag, defensive enchantments or no, and she strode into the sub-vault, which was full of various exotic looking pieces of weaponry. She grabbed the first impressive looking thing, a bronze spear that seemed to always be on fire, and then dashed back quickly to crouch to the side of the vault entrance. 

From the other side she could hear the guards hastily unlocking the massive bronze doors, having obviously heard the noise she’d just made, but slowed by the very defenses meant to stop someone from getting into the vault in the first place. Eventually they did open the door, and the moment it swung open, Mercy, who was somewhat hidden from them by the opening door, pressed the trigger for the bomb at the opposite end of the hall.

There was a terrible flash of orange light that coincided with a massive BOOM as the bomb went off. Mercy wasn’t sure exactly what type of bomb it was, that wasn’t something she needed to know, but she knew it had a decent sized payload and considering the proximity of the explosion to the Doomsday Chamber, it was going to grab attention. The bulk of the blast didn’t quite reach her, the seventy or so meters down the hall she was, but she still felt a blast of heat and air, and presumably the four Amazon guards entering the vault did too. All four charged towards the smoldering, smoke filled end of the hall, and Mercy was able to slip behind them and begin making her way out of the Palace.

Even Luthor wasn’t eager to release the monstrous creature the Amazons were holding in their vaults, but making it look like that was the potential purpose of her raid was an excellent distraction. Misdirection was also the reason Mercy had picked up the ever-flaming magic golden spear, The Spear of Athena, that she was conspicuously running out of the vaults with. If any Amazon saw her fleeing with such an obvious prize, it should prevent them from realizing she’d swapped two of the Miraculous for fakes before absconding with the real ones, at least for a time. 

She managed to get just one floor below the ground floor, where her exit lay, before she ran into more Amazons. Twelve more guards were charging down towards the vaults, and would easily outnumber and overwhelm Mercy, but she wasn’t exactly one for fighting fair. She shot her plasma cannon at the ceiling above the oncoming guards, unfortunately not quite causing a collapse, but still making them scatter. At the same time she pulled a flashbang grenade from her satchel and threw it ahead of her before turning around and heading for an alternate route. Hopefully the guards would be flummoxed and dazzled enough for her to put some distance between them.

She made it back to the gardens, but by this point a loud alarm was sounding all over the Island, and the elite forces of Themyscira would no doubt be racing back towards the palace. Luckily she saw her exit inbound. A Lexcorp stealth drone, about the size of a wolf careened down out of the sky, swooping low over the gardens. The systems in her arm aligned with the guidance systems of the drone, and she perfectly caught the underhanging bar that had been welded to it. 

The engines strained a little under the added weight, but it successfully whisked her into the air. “AGH!” Mercy bit out at sudden pain in her leg, before it was quickly deadened by her augmented nervous system cutting off input from the leg. A following Amazon managed to tag her with an arrow, but it was too little too late. Despite her injury, the drone had flown her out over the water, and away from Themyscira, it would be taking her to a larger submarine a few miles further from shore which would then descend and make for the straits of Gibraltar. 

Unbeknownst to anyone but her, Mr, Luthor and his associates, two of the Miraculous that had turned Paris upside down were back in play.

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Davenport Estate, Upstate Gotham County, Near Wayne Manor, Late July

Linda Davenport, nee Page, idly swirled her wine while she read the Gazette’s society page. Just as had been the case for the last several weeks, Marinette Wayne dominated the columns. There was precious little new information about the newest Wayne, but that didn’t stop Vicki Vale and her writers from speculating.

The girl’s father, Brucie Wayne, was always the one who got away from Linda. He wasn’t a lost love by any means, but he was a lost opportunity; the golden boy of Gotham, every socialite’s dream match, lost to a nobody social worker from the East End. Of course she’d never dare call Selina Wayne that nowadays, she didn’t have a death wish, but it still irked her.

The Page family had made their money when her grandfather had struck oil in the nineteen sixties; so they had been considered ‘new money’ by the elite of Gotham, something that always rankled her father. It didn’t help that those wells began running dry by the early nineties, and the Page family looked destined to slip back out of the upper class. From an early age Linda’s goal was clear: marry rich. She’d become accustomed to a certain lifestyle in her youth, and wanted to maintain that. Really, she wanted to improve it and social climb a little, which was what made Brucie such a promising prospect, the lone heir of the storied Wayne Family, one of the founding families of the city. 

Alas, it was not to be. When Bruce returned from his world tour, she’d failed to make any connection with him. Most of her peers had, causing some to speculate that Bruce was wholly uninterested in settling down, until Selina Kyle suddenly appeared at his side, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. Luckily Linda had never put all her chips in on bagging a Wayne, and was able to entice a lesser candidate, leading to her own marriage into the Davenport family. Still, Jay was something of a consolation prize, even if the real estate developer’s wealth paled in comparison to the Wayne fortune. They might not have any real passion between them, but he was reliable, and that counted for something.

Linda’s thoughts turned back to the present. The battle for Brucie may have been long lost, but the war over the next generation was only revving up. A new Wayne, especially a biological child, was like blood in the water for her kind, and she knew she wouldn’t be the only one circling the catch. 

It went beyond merely trying to get your child a piece of the Wayne estate when Bruce eventually died. Marrying into either the Waynes or the Kanes would be an excellent business opportunity, considering they ran the two biggest corporations in town. Unfortunately that was easier said than done. Both members of the older generation, Bruce and Kate, were already married, and despite the attempts of many a socialite to drive a wedge into either marriage, that didn’t look to be changing anytime soon. Besides, risking the wrath of Diana Kane or Selina Wayne was like tickling a sleeping dragon.

Which left their kids, and in this at least, the family’s penchant for adoption was fortuitous as it left them with no shortage of choice. There was of course the worry that the majority of the eventual Wayne inheritance would simply go to the only biological child born in wedlock, Helena, but even tying yourself to one of the adopted children could open up plenty of business opportunities in the meantime. Afterall, Bruce’s menagerie all carried the Wayne name and that had power in of itself. And of course with the Kane’s one could assume there would be no biological child, so any of the three Kane daughters was an appealing target.

However, so far none of Gotham’s own elite had found success seducing the oldest of the Wayne kids. The police commissioner’s daughter the family had taken in was marrying some personal trainer and the Golden Boy, Richard, was apparently thoroughly besotted with his live-in girlfriend, some minor model no one had ever heard of from Denver. Kate’s eldest Donna was probably the best bet. She was dating some redheaded physicist who lived in Keystone, but long distance flings like that never lasted. However, for the moment at least, that made Jace and Lizzie the current focus of many of her peers who were looking to ‘bag’ a Wayne or Kane so to speak, but so far none had been successful.

‘ You need to learn to think long term,’ Linda thought to herself. Just because most of the other members of the Wayne and Kane broods weren't of an age for a marriage plot, didn’t mean you couldn’t start sowing the seeds for one down the road. The thing to do was ingratiate your children as friends of the younger Waynes and Kanes, and then let things grow from there, like a gardener with their roses. Well, she assumed that’s how it worked, Linda had people to manage her gardens for her. Besides, even if nothing romantic ever developed, being childhood friends with a member of one of the most powerful families on the East Coast wasn’t too shabby of a consolation prize. 

“Bridgitte! Bernard!” Linda called into the house to summon her younger children, the twins Bridgette and Bernard. It was fortuitous that the newest Wayne was of a similar age, and even luckier, not from Gotham; she wouldn’t have a preexisting friend circle. The twins hadn’t had much success cozying up to Damian, but hopefully they’d find better luck with Marinette. 

After a bit more shouting and sending a maid to find them, she had both of her thirteen year old kids before her. The two auburn haired kids had been playing tennis and were still in their whites when they walked into the room.

“What is it, mother?” Bernard asked exasperatedly. He’d been about to win a match point against his sister when the maid called them in.

“There’s no need for that tone, young man,” Linda said sternly.

“Of course, we apologize, mother,” Bridgette interjected demurely. She’d really rather avoid this degenerating into an argument between her mother and brother that she had to sit through.

“Yes, well,” Linda said thinly before gesturing to the newspaper. “I trust both of you have heard about Mr. Wayne’s newest child?”

“Yes?” Bridgette replied hesitantly, “some of the girls from the club were talking about her. Eva thinks she saw her at the zoo last week, but she’s probably just making it up for attention.” Bridgette rolled her eyes.

“What does she have to do with anything?” Bernard demanded.

“I want the two of you to be welcoming to the poor dear,” Linda instructed. “She’s obviously going to be overwhelmed by the move and could use some friends. Can you do that for me?”

Both twins shared a look before nodding. They could read between the lines, but there really wasn’t much point in arguing. They both just hoped she wouldn’t be as troublesome as Damian was; Bernard was still only half convinced the threatened stabbing had been a joke. In any event, it looked like Marinette Wayne was going to be getting some new friends when the Autumnal Gala commenced. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Keystone City, Late that Afternoon

Twelve bullets were suspended in mid air, inching forward at an ant’s pace, like pennies dropped in a pot of thick molasses. They weren’t really moving so slowly, but that’s how they appeared to Wally West’s Speed Force infused eyes. It was a common misconception that the Flashes merely ran fast; lots of guys in their business could run fast. Superman ran fast, but Clark was like one of these not so speeding bullets, he was purely ballistic once he got up to enough speed. 

Wally was something more. He thought faster, reacted faster, could see the world like it was one big ice sculpture, frozen and nearly unmoving. It was something he’d had to work up to, and he’s doubtful he’ll ever be as good at it as his uncle Barry was, but with enough training Flash was able to feel like he had all the time in the world when dealing with your run of the mill mooks.

Except when he was running late for dinner with his girlfriend. Again. “Shit, shit, shit,” Wally muttered too quickly for anyone with normal ears to understand as he slipped past the bullets to grab the man they were rocketing towards, Councilman Phillips. He didn’t know why the five purple masked men had decided to attack this particular campaign event, but when he’d gotten the alert while already halfway to Gotham, he’d had to turn around and race back for Keystone. 

Luckily he’d gotten there before anyone had been hurt, but as the bullets that slammed into the empty podium behind him attested, it was a near run thing. The small city park where Creed Phillips was giving his speech had largely cleared up after the gang of assassins arrived on the scene, and Wally was able to zoom the remaining bystanders out of the way along with the targeted politician. 

“I really don’t have time for this,” Wally snarked as he zipped over to the five armed men, who all went down in a few quick blows. Really he didn’t know why standard armed thugs would try something so obvious and out in the open in a city known to be patrolled by the Flash. A super speed chop to the back of the neck dropped all five men like a sack of potatoes.

After that it was five minutes of waiting, an eternity for him when he was operating at super speed. While his powers were a gift, they could also be a curse if he let them get out of control, or at least a recipe for incredible boredom. Learning to ramp his rate of perception up and down had been one of the first lessons Barry had taught him after he became Kid Flash.

‘ And now I guess I’m going to have to do the same,’ Wally thought anxiously as the police finally arrived on the scene and he was able to hand over the goons. Max had been getting on his case to take a larger role in training Impulse, lately and Wally was a little uncomfortable stepping into the mentor role. He felt like he still needed a mentor, not like he was in any position to tell the kid what to do. He and Impulse hadn’t formed the hero-sidekick relationship he’d had with his uncle Barry, but it was clear the kid wanted to and apparently Max thought he was ready to take on more responsibility.

It wasn’t like Bart hadn’t already been superheroing ever since he got cast back to this time period (Dealing with time travel was going to give Wally a headache), he’d been active with the younger generation of heroes in Young Justice and training under Max Mercury, who was sort of the elder statesmen of the Flash Family, having been in the game even longer than Jay. 

Wally shook his head so rapidly his face became a blur to the gathering crowd of press and onlookers as he dashed away from the scene, after confirming the Keystone police had the matter in hand. Figuring out his complex feelings on mentorship would have to wait until later. He was already running late for his date with Donna.

He still couldn’t believe he and Donna were finally dating. They’d been friends and teammates for years, but it took both of them a long time to act on their attraction for the other. There always seemed to be something coming between them, with neither of them ever being single at the same time. They’d both also mutually worried about screwing up their friendship, or messing with Titans team dynamics if they tried dating. That was the state of affairs until six months ago when Donna plucked up the courage to ask him out, and things had actually been surprisingly smooth sailing since then.

‘ If you ignore she’s dating the perpetually flaky Wally West’ Wally groused to himself as he ran across Pennsylvania. Living in the midwest while dating someone on the east coast would be a major hassle without super speed. Wally had only made one slight detour to snag the bag containing his civilian change of clothes that he’d dropped when he had to turn around to save the politician.

Eventually he skidded to a stop at the Kane Estate, which was luckily situated on a large and partially forested property, so there were no worries of the Flash being seen. He couldn’t help but feel intimidated whenever he arrived at Donna’s family home, the Kane Estate. It was a beautiful old building to be sure, but also an imposing one. It was a classic example of Gotham’s unique gothic architecture, a towering edifice of dark grey stone and deep brown oak, the only splash of color being a touch of burgundy highlights on the window shutters and the door frame. There were even several stone gargoyles perched along the roof’s crenelations, leering down at any visitors. It wasn’t quite as big as his best friend Dick’s home, Wayne Manor, but if anything it was more overawing. Wayne Manor was a sprawling palatial mansion, the Kane Estate felt more like a fortress. (Both properties were absolutely festooned with defensive measures, but it was perhaps understandable that Wally should find the home of his girlfriend’s parents more menacing.)

A few moments after he knocked, the door swung open to reveal Donna in a jaw dropping silken sleeveless gold dress, with matching heels, and a pearl necklace and matching earrings. Wally was literally speechless for a moment, before he started to babble, “I am sooo sorry for being late. I got stuck covering Davis’s lecture and then there was this assassination attempt back in Keyston-”

He was cut off by Donna grabbing the back of his head and pulling him into a kiss; which, historically speaking, was a very atypical response for when he’d been late for dates with previous partners. ‘ Oh right, I guess that’s one of the benefits of your girlfriend also being a superhero’ Wally realized as he kissed Donna back. 

“I caught the news bulletin,” Donna informed him after they broke their kiss, “everything go okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean it was a bit surprising. Who tries to gun down a city councilman in broad daylight?” Wally asked.

Donna rolled her eyes, “I’ve heard of it happening from time to time,” she said sarcastically.

“Oh right, Gotham,” Wally realized. While the Bats and their allies had helped make a marked improvement in the sprawling city, a time when mobs ordering hits on troublesome officials was a common occurrence was still within somewhat recent memory. “Anyway, I took them down and got them handed over, no trouble. I’m just sorry it took so long that we’re going to miss our reservation.”

Donna smiled mischievously, “I’m Donna Kane. They were happy to move the reservation.” Wally forgot sometimes that his longtime friend and now girlfriend was a someone in her civilian identity, especially in Gotham. “Julia is bringing the car around, go change.”

Donna very rarely flexed her family name, but Wally’d be lying if he didn’t admit he found it incredibly attractive when she did. ‘ I’m attracted to powerful women, so sue me’ Wally thought as he rapidly freshened himself up in one of the Kane Estate’s washrooms, changing into the spare change of clothes he’d stowed in his pack. ‘ Please, please let it not be too wrinkled’. Wally once had a two hour venting session with Black Canary about their stress over potentially embarrassing their partners at the ritzy places they were taken. Luckily the shirt wasn’t too badly crumpled, and pretty soon Wally was in his suit and rapidly combing his hair as he raced out to meet the car with Donna. 

An hour later and the couple were finally, finally, enjoying their dinner at a restaurant far too expensive for Wally to ever eat at if it weren’t for the fact that Donna was obviously paying. It was probably a good thing he was dating an heiress, considering how many calories he used up as a speedster. The food was delicious, the string quartet playing quite good, and most importantly to Wally, the company was amazing. He used to give Dick grief for talking about how dating Koriand’r was like dating his best friend, (Partially because Wally and Dick were also best friends, and decidedly not romantically interested in one another,) but now he totally got it.

Donna was in the middle of telling him an anecdote from her last photography assignment. National Geographic had sent her to do a nature shoot in the Adirondacks and apparently a fox had gotten into her equipment and run off with a memory card. Wally was gasping, laughing, and about to ask if she managed to get it back when the doors of the restaurant blew open with a flash of multicolored light and a loud BOOM.  

“Hands in the air everybody!” Rainbow Raider declared as he strode into the room, flanked by two henchmen. “You know the drill: We want your money, not your life, so put all your cash and jewelry in my associate’s bags, or get a rainbow ray to the face.” The threat was slightly undercut by the ridiculousness of his costume and abilities, but the fact that said rainbow blast had taken the doors off their hinges had most of the patrons rushing to comply. Except for one redheaded man, who was rushing to do something else, and rushing very fast indeed.

Donna shifted slightly in her seat, acting frightened, but carefully obscuring Wally from the view of the only camera she’d clocked when they came in. Wally vanished in a blur and Donna surreptitiously shook the table and tablecloth, to make it plausible he’d just gone under it if someone wondered where he’d gone during the incident. If the heroine known as Troia was there alone, she’d have found a way to sneakily change into her costume, but since Wally could sneak away much more easily, she decided to leave it to her boyfriend. 

The Raiders men were just coming to the first frightened patrons when a cyclone of red and gold swept past, sending both men flying backwards before solidifying to reveal the Flash. “Roy, we have to stop meeting like this,” Wally snarked to the Rogue.

“What, no no no, I came to Gotham to get away from you! You’re not supposed to be here!” Rainbow Raider declared petulantly before charging up his goggles to fire a blast towards Wally. Luckily the Flash was faster, and he closed the short distance to Rainbow Raider, snagging the goggles from his head and taking the villain down with the blur of a scarlet fist. 

It seemed in Keystone or Gotham, a hero was always on call. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Wayne Manor, Late July

Steph fell onto the chez lounge with a huff, thoroughly worn out. She wasn’t the only one; her sisters, minus Helena, were also collapsing on various pieces of furniture around the den. Marinette and Harper were in a heap on the love seat, Carrie was flopped on top of an ottoman, and Cassandra had sprawled out on the sofa after helping Barbara into a comfy armchair.

“Okay, I love fashion, but that took forever,” Marinette groaned. 

“Welcome to Gala prep,” Barbara said wryly.

The Wayne women had been fitted for their gowns for the upcoming Autumnal Wayne Gala that day, consisting of several long hours of being measured, poked with pins and being asked a thousand questions about their prospective dresses. While they were used to long hours of vigilante work, considering most of them had been up the previous night doing said vigilante work, they were pooped. Selina was similarly tired, but had soldiered on to go deal with a minor emergency at the Wayne Foundation while the rest of them crashed in the den. Well, except for Helena who’d been put down for her nap earlier that afternoon.

Mari had actually geeked out a little over the fact that they were getting their dresses designed by Tora Olafsdotter-da Costa and Beatriz Olafsdotter-da Costa, two personal heroes of hers. (No pun intended, considering the women were also literally the superheroes Ice and Fire). The two women, who happened to be married to one another, had started as models, before transitioning into doing design work and the previous year had opened their own boutique fashion house.

It was a little odd interacting with the two women, since they weren’t in the know about the Waynes also being the Bats, but that had quickly faded. It wasn’t like Marinette had interacted with them while under the Lady Noire mask, and the two heroines were among the few with public identities so it wasn’t like they had to pretend they didn’t know they were Fire and Ice.

Mari had been more than excited to get to see two professional designers at work, and peppered the two with dozens of questions, which to their credit they answered good naturedly. Marinette was so looking forward to seeing what the women designed for her, it was almost enough to outweigh her nervousness at being presented at her first gala.

All and all, it had been a very exciting day for Marinette, but even she was tired by the end of it. “Uggh, I know this gala is a big event, but do you have to do this before each one?” Mari asked, worrying about the number of fancy parties she’d need to attend and try not embarrass everyone at.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a hassle, but we don’t go to all of them,” Harper replied.

“Yeah, if we went to every rich person party in Gotham, that’d be like literally all we do,” Carrie added.

Stephanie blew a strand of hair out of her face, “we mostly go to the bigger, more official type events, and the whole family usually only turns up for the handful of galas we host ourselves.” 

“They can be tedious,” Barbara admitted, “but they’re also an important opportunity to establish our public personas and distract from our ‘night time hobbies’.”

“Ooh, Mari’s gonna get her first experience with Dad going full Brucie,” Carrie said excitedly. 

“What’s going full Brucie?” Marinette asked, unsure of what they meant.

“When Dad got back from his training and started being Batman,” Stephanie explained, “he took steps to ensure his secret identity was protected. That included some financial chicanery and obviously wearing the Cowl, but a big part of that was creating the Brucie persona.”

“Basically he created a reputation for Bruce Wayne that was very, very far from the Dark Knight,” Harper elaborated. “It’s kind of like having a second mask he wears, and it’s pretty dang effective, even if he had to modify his initial version of Brucie.”

Marinette nodded along, she could understand the principle behind the strategy. She hadn’t done anything as drastic, but she had tried being a bit publicly critical of Lady Noire to dissuade people from thinking they were one and the same. That had backfired on her massively when ‘Lady Noire’s Best Friend’ Lila Rossi joined their class and used those comments as the thin end of the wedge to destroy Mari’s social standing, but distancing yourself from your heroic identity in your civilian life made sense. Still, she was curious, “what was wrong with Brucie 1.0?”

Steph snorted, “Dad’s original plan was for everyone to think he was a hard partying playboy, but he was already having to walk that back like two years into being Batman.”

“Why?” Marinette asked. She was glad most people didn’t think Bruce was constantly sleeping around, but she could admit it was a good cover to distract from what he really got up to at night.

“Us,” Cass offered while gesturing to the assembled Wayne sisters. “Also Mama.”

“Yeah, turns out the state’s not too keen on letting you foster and adopt if everyone thinks you’re always going on drunken benders and sleeping your way through the entire roster of Gotham Knights cheerleaders,” Harper said sarcastically.

“Dad’s reputation delayed him being approved to take Dick in by over a week, so after that he started reshaping the Brucie persona almost immediately,” Barbara explained. “In addition to needing to demonstrate he was providing a stable home life, he didn’t want the reputation to be used against us. So, Brucie cleaned up his act quite a bit.”

“Plus Dad’s a simp for Mom,” Carrie sniggered. Harper tossed a pillow at her.

“Would you please stop telling people that,” the blue haired girl complained. 

Carrie dodged under the plush projectile, “what? Mom literally fight’s with a whip, it’s no wonder he’s so whipp-”

This time Harper’s aim was true, and Carre fell back giggling as the throw pillow hit her. She wasn’t entirely wrong; Bruce was very much devoted to Selina, but then again that devotion was fully reciprocated on Selina’s part. In any event, once the two had become a couple Bruce had worked hard to tamp down on the rumors of him philandering about, which he had previously encouraged.

Stephanie then explained that Bruce had altered the Brucie persona from playboy, to goofball dad over the course of a few years. Some things had remained the same, he was still known as a ditz, a dilettante, and a thoroughly vapid person. However allusions to a hard partying lifestyle had largely been swapped out for basically every forgetful sitcom dad trope, and constant praise for Selina. (The funny thing was that Bruce had basically turned the Brucie persona into an excuse to gush about how wonderful his wife and children were under the guise of subterfuge, which he found easier than saying it straight out as himself.)

“And all of you do this?” Mari asked skeptically, “have like, fake persona’s you trot out for these rich people parties to convince everyone you’re not the Batfamily?”

“More or less,” Carrie agreed with a shrug. “We don’t all straight up copy dad, but we do kinda put on an act when we’re doing stuff in public.”

“The specifics vary, but the overall goal is to make people think we’re as shallow, superficial, and unserious as possible. If everyone thinks we’re flighty airheads for the most part, they’re going to be a lot less likely to suspect we’re actually vigilantes,” Barbara explained.

“Plus it’s fun,” Cass added. The dark haired girl stretched out like a cat, before popping up into a cross legged position, seemingly having regained some of her energy.

“Soooo, much fun,” Steph agreed, perking up herself. “It's like getting to direct our own soap opera.” After Bruce, Stephanie was probably the family member who threw herself the most into her gala role. Stephie Wayne was truly bizarre to behold to anyone who knew the real Stephanie. 

Cass stared at the confused Mari for a moment, before looking over to Harper, “She’s still not understanding.”

“Ooh, I’ll show her what we’re talking about!” Carrie exclaimed before pulling up a video on her phone from a previous gala and shoved it in Marinette’s hands. 

Mari stared dumbfounded as the video showed Stephanie, or maybe her bizarro clone, being interviewed at the red carpet for a charity gala the previous year. It was Steph, but she was made up to the nines and wearing what basically amounted to a big poofy purple ball gown. It was a nice dress, to Mari’s eye, but not something she expected to see Steph wearing and very floofy. Her blonde hair was meticulously curled into cascading ringlets, and in general she looked like a modern-day take on a fairy tale princess. 

“Like, Oh Em Gee, tonight is about such an important cause,” Bizzarro Steph tittered, her voice at least half an octave higher than Stephanie’s normal speaking voice. The reporter looked prepped with a follow up but Steph plowed forward “Do you like my dress? Daddy took me to Milan to get it made, isn’t it just the cy-ootest?” The on-screen Steph flourished the skirt of the dress and did a little twirl, before proceeding to gush about how she was matching with Harper, who had recently joined the family at that point . 

“I mean, would you ever guess the girl in that video was Batgirl?” Stephanie asked with a shrug of her shoulders. She gestured to the screen, “Also, with that as the image in everyone’s minds when they think about Stephie Wayne, I can dress down and most of the time not get recognized when I go out, unless I want to be.”

“Plus that event pulled in a ton of donations that went to supporting drug rehabilitation programs throughout Gotham,” Harper added offhandedly. “So, like, there’s a reason to go to these things beyond just maintaining our cover.”

“What’s with that voice?” Mari asked, still flabbergasted as she watched the video finish. It wasn’t an in depth interview, just a quick comment while Steph made her way into the venue, but it certainly left an impression.

“I try to pitch my voice up a bit when ‘Stephie’s’ on camera and a bit down when I’m Batgirl. It’s easier to do than pitching myself way down as Batgirl but creates the same amount of contrast and stops someone from making a vocal match,” Steph explained. 

Marinette kept looking rapidly back and forth from the Stephanie on the couch, to the one on the video. “So wait, are you like that all the time when you’re not at home or being Batgirl?” She felt like that couldn’t possibly be true, especially because she’d been out in Gotham with Stephanie and she hadn’t been like that. Granted, they’d been trying to be somewhat incognito when Steph and Damian took her around Gotham zoo, but still.

“When it comes to your public persona, you really only need to be at a ten when you’re at a public event or on camera,” Barbara explained, “day to day you can comfortably dial it down to like a five, or even lower if necessary.”

“Yeah, dad’s not going full Brucie around the office,” Harper chimed in, “but he keeps enough Brucie elements that it’s plausible as a consistent person. Most people act differently depending on their circumstances, so modifying your performance based on the situation actually reinforces the facade, rather than taking away from it.” Full ditz Brucie was for the cameras, in the boardroom he needed to appear at least somewhat competent. “Besides, mom and him would totally get upset if we went full ‘Gala Mode’ at school.”

“You’d be amazed at the amount of cognitive dissonance people are able to hold in their minds,” Barbara replied. “And of course you don’t have to do any of this if you don’t want to. Aphrodite knows Dad would actually prefer it if some of us didn’t throw ourselves into the act so much,” she gave a pointed look at Stephanie who just rolled her eyes. Barbara and Damian were probably the Waynes whose public personas were the closest to their actual personalities, due to Bab’s being somewhat of a known quantity by the time she joined the family, and Damian’s weakness as an actor.

“Or, you could go big and swing for the fences like a certain other blue haired girl I know,” Carrie added teasingly while elbowing Harper in the ribs.

Harper groaned and buried her head in her hands.

“What did Harper do?” Marinette asked, incredibly curious about what basically amounted to third identities for the Batfamily.

“Harper,” Barbara began teasingly, “decided it would be a good idea for her to be known as a wannabe pop star. Which was fine, until people at school started asking to hear one of her songs.” It had been shortly after Harper was adopted and she tried to make a big splash by coming up with a strong personality to portray at galas. 

Cass and Steph giggled conspiratorially while Carrie pulled something up on her phone before handing it to Marinette. It was an album cover depicting Harper in a field of flowers, except the sun was inexplicably replaced with a disco ball.

“Suffice to say, Harp Wayne did not, in fact, bring disco back,” Steph announced. They’d rented a recording studio in Metropolis for a day, and basically threw the dumpster fire of an album together in a whirlwind 12 hour session. Well, they’d thrown down the vocals, with Jason and Stephanie actively writing the lyrics for the next song while Harper recorded each one. After that they’d hired some cheap session musicians and a producer to turn the whole thing into something that could technically be called a record. The resulting monstrosity disabused anyone of the notion that Harper Wayne had any future in music that her parents didn’t buy for her, which somewhat worked for what she was going for, even if the whole ordeal was a bit embarrassing. 

“Uggh, I’m working on phasing out the music thing, it was too public a hobby anyway,” Harper explained. “I should have picked something like Steph’s horse riding; the gold standard is something that could conceivably take up a big chunk of your time, keep you out of sight, and account for the occasional injury.” 

“Wait, you ride horses? Do we actually have stables?” Marinette asked, suddenly realizing maybe Clark hadn’t been kidding about checking out the stables weeks ago. 

“Oh, you haven’t met Lord Percival Wayne?” Steph asked with a chuckle, “I’m surprised Damian hasn’t given you the full introduction to all the animals on the property. To answer your question, Stephie Wayne rides horses. She’s obsessed with them, and constantly posts pictures of her horse, Lord Percy. I on the other hand can ride enough to be believable when I do it in front of others, and Percy is really more Damian’s pet than mine.” Steph flipped through her public instagram and showed a few dozen pictures of her in equestrian gear with a large grey stallion, and then flipped over to her private photo roll which showed Damian riding the horse instead.

Marinette thought about it for a moment before saying, “that’s actually kind of brilliant.” If people thought Steph was riding a horse around the manor for a solid chunk of most days, it gave her a good standby alibi for when she was working on Batgirl stuff. It could explain the occasional injury, and she could just take an interview and a couple dozen outfits to fake several months worth of pictures reinforcing the perception that she was really into the hobby. Really, she was coming around to this whole Gala persona thing, sure it seemed silly, but it also seemed scarily effective for keeping their secret, and that was something Mari was very dedicated to.

Babs nodded, “sports are good, but solo ones obviously.” It also helped explain the obviously very physically fit condition the family was in, if they were involved in an activity that explained it. Cass had dancing, Steph horseback riding, Damian was a fencer and so on and so forth. Though, in their cases, the other two pursued their hobbies much more earnestly than Steph did. 

Mari got a determined glint in her eye; she was going to tackle this with all of the dedication she’d been putting to her Bat training lessons she’d been doing nearly every afternoon down in the Cave. When Marinette set her mind to something she was an unstoppable force. 

She fished a notebook out of an end table and prepared to take notes, “tell me everything I need to know!”

Her sisters proceeded to give her the rundown on how they presented themselves at Galas, and to a degree on social media. Babs often helped with the latter, having backdoor access to all of their social medias so she could spoof things for them, like posting as them during a villain attack while they were actively fighting, that sort of thing. Some of them she probably could have extrapolated from what she’d already read online about the Waynes in her first internet searches about her new family, but some took her entirely by surprise.

If Mari had to pick one word to describe Selina, well, she probably couldn’t pick one word for the amazing woman, but warm might be close. Selina was warm, welcoming, and just incredibly caring in Mari’s experience of the woman, which made it so surprising to discover Selina Wayne was known as the ice queen of Gotham. Known almost exclusively as Mrs. Wayne by everyone except her closest inner circle and family, she was an imperious monarch who could break men with a word. It fit with the brief bit she’d read and been nervous about on the flight to Gotham, but absolutely didn’t match with the Selina she knew.

In a way Brucie and Mrs. Wayne’s relationship dynamic was the inverse of the real Bruce and Selina’s. While in private Bruce was the taciturn one and Selina the playful partner, in public Brucie was a ditzy goofball and Mrs. Wayne was the stern one you didn’t want to cross. Apparently it was a source of endless amusement for her siblings that the couple’s public personas involved doing pseudo-impressions of each other. 

Stephanie was apparently known to Gotham high society, as Stephie Wayne, the spoiled sweet princess of the Wayne clan. Stephie Wayne was created from a potent slurry of Teen Vogue, sweet sixteens and a healthy dash of Legally Blonde and Clueless that Stephanie had refined into an artform. 

Cassie Wayne was basically Cassandra’s already existing theater kid tendencies turned up to an 11. Over dramatic, hipsterish, and obsessed with musicals, summed her up well. They showed Mari a clip of a beret wearing Cass marching into the middle of a dinner, writing the word ‘Art’ on a napkin, setting the napkin on fire, then walking out of the party.

“What did that mean?” Marinette asked

“Riddler was attacking downtown,” Cass replied with a grin.

Babara was the closest to her actual personality due to a few factors. For one, while not a fixture of high society parties like she was now that she was a Wayne, she was a somewhat known quantity before becoming a Wayne due to her first father being commissioner of police. She hadn’t originally been putting on an act when she went to her first few charity balls that her father or Dick dragged her along to, and there was only so much she could alter her persona without it seeming like a wild and sudden change in personality. She’d shifted it a bit, made her language a bit more refined and became more of a gossip, but there was only so much she could plausibly do.

The other reason she didn’t need to worry as much about putting up a front, was that Oracle, unlike the rest of her family’s heroic identities, wasn’t a public entity. She was largely unknown outside the hero community itself, entirely faceless, and shrouded in mystery. At least a few Leaguers, Captain Marvel and one of the Lanterns, thought she was an AI.

Richie Wayne was Dick’s gala counterpart, and he was essentially Brucie 2.0, a ditzy playboy with a side of party animal. However he’d also been phasing out the playboy part of that description after he’d gotten serious with Koriand’r. Mari cringed when she saw a photo of Dick in a periwinkle blue suit, massive bowtie and ruffled tuxedo shirt. “Why did Dick choose to make having a terrible fashion sense part of his persona?” As a fashion expert, Mari felt personally offended by that image.

“Uh,” Steph said chuckling, “that’s not part of his persona. Dick has a truly terrible sense of style.”

“Wait, he’s wearing that on purpose!?” Mari asked, more confused by the fact Dick thought that looked good than any of the rest of it. She was absolutely going to audit her eldest brother’s wardrobe, since he clearly couldn’t be trusted to dress himself.

“You should see the first Nightwing costume,” Carrie sniggered.

Jason became Jace Wayne, daredevil, thrill seeker and resident bad boy of the Wayne clan. He had a reputation for being obsessed with cars, and fast vehicles in general, having been in several crashes. None of them had been genuine, all being cover for times Jason had needed to be out of the public eye for a time, either due to injury, or more often for long term missions away from Gotham. Well, except for the boat crash, which had been the genuine result of an overexcited Jason who did not in fact know how to steer a sailboat. 

Jason’s goal was to act as something of a trap, by occasionally spreading rumors of him being on the outs with the family. If someone was plotting against the family, they might try to turn them against each other, and Jason would seem the most likely prospect for that sort of scheme. Bruce hated it; he understood the logic, but detested anyone thinking he was anything less than immensely proud of his second son.

Harper, aside from the purposefully failed foray into music, was largely known as a party girl, or at least as much of one as she could be given her age. She’d largely modeled her persona on how her aunt Kate was viewed prior to ‘settling down’ with Diana, flighty, obsessed with whatever was hot at the moment, and generally a bit more wild than Stephie was known to be. Together with Cassandra they formed a bit of a trio. All three were known as bubbly, rich, budding socialites, but with distinct variations between them, with Stephie being sweet and ditzy, Cass being aloof and artistic, and Harper being the wild and hyperactive one. 

Mari literally spat out her drink when they showed her footage of Carrie at a gala. The redheaded tomboy was basically doing a take on a Victorian orphan, “Mother, could I please have another serving of the bisque; I like it ever so much.” She had a long flowing dress with bows and looked like the picture of innocence. Mari loved Carrie, (She was slowly getting comfortable with admitting she loved all of her new family), but the redhead was a fucking gremlin, not this tiny saint. 

Duke seemed to be doing an absent-minded professor schtick, complete with thick rimmed glasses Mari was pretty sure he didn’t need and a goddamn ascot. His strategy was to play up his nerdy tendencies, and in general make himself seem like too much of a scrawny wallflower to ever be leaping over the rooftops as Goldbat, essentially taking a page out of Clark Kent’s book.

Damian was similar to Barbara, in that his public persona wasn’t that far off from his real personality. That came from a combination of acting being one of Damian’s weaker skills, and an unwillingness to ‘be a jester for the masses’ during his early days at the manor, when still deeply affected by League of Assassins indoctrination. In general though, he was known as a standoffish elitist, and generally considered the least approachable of the Wayne siblings.

Then there was Timmy Wayne, who acted like a mini-ceo, obsessed with the business and playing up being old money. He was the chummiest with the old school crowd, far too comfortable talking about golf and tax shelters for a sixteen year old. He was essentially leaning into how he had been perceived as a Drake, even if it made his family a little uncomfortable because they knew the Drakes had ruthlessly trained Tim to make good impressions at galas. 

“So,” Stephie began as she leaned in excitedly, “you have any ideas for how you want to play your first gala?”

“Remember, none of this is required and if you’d rather just be more yourself or avoid these events as much as possible, that’s fine too,” Barbara reminded her after shooting a pointed look at Steph.

“Right, totally, of course,” Steph conceded, before giving Mari puppy dog eyes. “But, if you did want to get involved, you could have a lot of fun with it. Plus you have some siblings who would love to help you put a persona together.” It wasn’t quite as much of a tradition as helping each other pick the names for their masked identities, but coming up with wacky gala antics for each sibling’s debut was something they all enjoyed doing.

It came to Marinette like a revelation; she knew exactly who she could model a gala persona on. Someone who ruled every room she walked into, who demanded adoration with her mere presence, and who never took shit from anyone. And someone Marinette missed very dearly. 

Gotham was about to witness the resurrection of the Queen Bee.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Early August, Abandoned Double Bubble Gum Factory, East End, Gotham, Night

Sugar checked her phone before turning to Spice, “you think this is everyone who’s coming?” The mismatched pair were sitting at the head of a beat up long table someone had found in the back of the abandoned Double Bubble Gum plant. Around twenty or so scruffy looking toughs were crowded around it, eyeing each other warily. They were what remained of Two Face’s gang, who hadn’t been arrested, or at least the ones willing to show up when Sugar and Spice put out the call.

The two gunmolls had essentially been Harvey’s lieutenants, but their authority was shaky at best with the big man in Arkham. Even without Harv around, they were keeping to the duality theme, with Sugar in a bright pink skirt suit, and Spice clad in a leather dominatrix outfit. They certainly stood out from the rest of the gang, who were wearing the usual Gotham thug attire of dark clothes in shades of grey and brown. Everyone was a bit shifty; it was dangerous to get together like this, since most of them had active warrants out for their arrest.

“Probably,” Spice responded before turning to the assembled goons, “I’m sure you’re all wondering why we brought you together.”

“Yeah, and it better be good,” one henchman, Ike, said before spitting some tobacco juice, “we busting the boss out?”

“I’m not raiding Arkham,” another thug, Roger, declared, “the KGBeast tried and failed, what chance would we have?” Roger, like a lot of Harvey’s initial crew, was actually a former GCPD officer, one of many who had been pushed out of the department during the reforms Jim Gordon conducted as commissioner. Somewhat ironically, given the fact that Harvey Dent had made a name for himself prosecuting corrupt cops before becoming Two Face, he’d attracted quite a few former officers to his outfit, particularly those fired for brutality.  

“We’re not hitting Arkham,” Sugar agreed; as much as she’d like to get their boyfriend out of the asylum, she knew it was a bad plan. The home for the criminally insane had come a long way from its prior revolving door reputation, and the security upgrades over the last several years made any prison break a daunting prospect. Besides, the Bats were always watching that place. “We got an offer.”

“More like a demand,” Spice added bitterly, “this new schmuck Red Hood wants us to join his outfit, and I don’t think he’s taking no for an answer.”

“Look, he’s making moves,” Sugar countered, “this could be the chance to make some dough, fix things up around here, get the money moving again.” In Sugar’s mind, the gang needed a payday, to attract more members, get better equipment, and eventually get to a place where they could free Harvey from Arkham. Red Hood was just a means to an end.

“Yeah, till Black Mask stomps us out for working with him,” Spice retorted angrily. The majority of the lower level crime rings Hood had been targeting and co-opting belonged to Roman, and he was not happy about it.

“Well do you have a better option?” Sugar asked, annoyed. “Because right now, we’ve got nothing going for us.”

“I still say we should see if Penguin’s got any work,” Ike opined.

Spice scoffed, “Cobblepot’s too busy trying to seem legit.” Ever since Cobblepot had received an improbable pardon from the outgoing governor six years back, he’d attempted to keep his dealings legal, at least on the surface. It was commonly suspected he still had some criminal connections, but largely he’d leveraged his old family money to open and run the Iceberg Lounge to surprising success. “He doesn’t want to give the Bats any ammunition to come after him.”

“Look,” Sugar said firmly, slapping her hand down on the table, “a war’s coming between Black Mask and Red Hood, and we need to pick a side or get caught in the crossfire.”

What followed was a few minutes of angry debating between the gang members about which course to take, both sides squabbling over what Two-Face would want, and generally not being able to come to an agreement. That was until one of their quieter members, Otto, spoke up, “Way I see it, it’s a coin flip whichever side we choose, so…”

Spice smiled a little despite herself, “he’s right. There’s a way we decide things in this organization.” She pulled a coin from her brassiere and handed it to Sugar, “you want to do the honors, babe?”

Sugar sighed, “sure.” She flicked the coin into the air. She was about to call it when something red came flying out of the shadows and intercepted it, a birdarang. 

All at once five figures emerged to surround the gang, and they were immediately on the attack. Mockingbird took Roger out at the knees with a swing of her batons; Raptor spun through the air, knocking out both Ike and Otto with his three section staff. Lark landed on the table before launching herself at two more thugs, who quickly went down. 

Robin and Lady Noire tag teamed Spice, who tried to hold them off with her whip in one hand and pistol in the other. Robin stuck hard and fast with his dulled katana, slamming it into Spice’s wrist and making her drop the gun; at the same time, Noire caught the whip on her bo staff and let it twist around the weapon before yanking it to pull Spice stumbling towards her. The feline heroine hit her with a palm strike to the solar plexus while Robin kicked her in the back of the knee, making the criminal drop like a bunch of broccoli. 

Sugar wasn’t proud of it, but she turned tail and ran, leaving the rest of her crew and Spice behind. She made it to the door, only to find her way barred by vines that had seemingly overgrown the entrance since she’d come in. Vines which quickly darted out and wrapped her in an entangling cocoon. Black Orchid stepped into the room, apparently having been the rearguard for the heroes. “Look on the brightside,” the purple suited heroine drawled, “now you don’t have to decide which team to pick.”

—--

An Hour Later, Batcave

“OOOH! You did so well out there, kiddo!” Harley said enthusiastically while giving Marinette a hug. She was still clad in her white and blue Mockingbird costume, but had removed her mask.

“Uh, thanks, Auntie Harley,” Marinette replied. She was still getting used to having aunts, both Kate and Diana, and the honorary ones, Ivy and Harley. After the pair’s return from Florida, along with their daughter Rose, they’d made a point of getting to know Marinette, though this was the first time they’d worked together in the field. 

“Darling, you’re smushing her,” Ivy told her wife, who then promptly let Mari out of the tight hug. Rose, who had removed her Lark helmet, just shook her head fondly. 

After giving the captured gang members, and a copy of the recordings over to the GCPD, the six had retired back to the Batcave for a debrief. They’d been tipped off by the bugs Selina and Mari had planted about the meeting earlier in the week, and used it as an opportunity to get some information and scoop up the rest of Two-Face’s gang, who were still wanted on quite a few charges, including murder in the case of Sugar and Spice.

“Yes, Marinette’s performance was quite exemplary, as ever,” Damian said stiffly; he was the only one of them with his mask still on, as even Mari had shifted out of her Lady Noire form, Plagg happily nibbling on some cheese in her lap. “If anything she and I could have handled this ourselves.”

“Aw, c’mon Dami, you know the rules,” Harley chided, “you two are too young to work alone.”

“Tsk,” Damian said, chafing against that particular directive, “that’s as may be, but we didn’t need additional, ‘tagalongs’,” He stared pointedly at Tim, his white mask eyes narrowing.

“What,” Tim asked, uncharacteristically flustered, “I just thought you guys could use some extra help. Besides, I’ve hardly gotten to work with Mari at all so far, you and Steph keep hogging her.” 

Mari was both embarrassed and flattered that some of her siblings were squabbling over who got to patrol with her. She’d worked with nearly all of them at least once so far, and while she had perhaps patrolled with Batgirl and Robin a bit more than the others, she’d worked with Selina by far the most, the elder cat themed heroine having definitively taken her under her wing.

“Hm,” Damian replied, unconvinced, “and I’m sure it had nothing to do with you and cousin Rose canoodling in the rafters while we waited for the hoodlums to assemble?”

“We weren’t canoodling!” Tim protested, his voice going a bit higher, “and also we’re not cousins!” Some of his siblings, mostly Damian and Carrie, liked to tease him that the girl he liked was the daughter of two women most of them called aunt. Rose blushed a little before staring menacingly at Damian. 

“Care to repeat that, birdbrain?” she asked while pulling a sharpened birdarang from her belt.

Ivy, who by this point had pulled out a book to read, said “sweet pea, don’t stab Damian,” without looking up. Whatever further information there was to be gleaned from mission analysis would have to wait until another time, as Tim and Damian devolved into one of their classic arguments, though with considerably less stabbing than there used to be. 

Mari took the opportunity to slip out of the cave to go and see if any of the ginger snaps Alfred had made that morning were still left, only to discover Harley in the elevator, having had the same idea. They both laughed a bit, and in the end, they split the sole remaining cookie three ways. 

Plagg was still a little hungry.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Early August, Wayne Manor, Sitting Room

Selina had never gotten the chance to meet Bruce’s parents; well, technically. She’d gotten to know Alfred quite well and he was essentially Bruce’s adoptive father even if neither of them said it out loud, but she’d never known Thomas or Martha. What she knew of them came from Bruce and Alfred, and their stories largely turned the pair into figures of myth; Bruce had been so young when they died, his parents were frozen as paragons in his mind, not the complex people they likely really were. She likes to think she would have made a good impression, that they’d approve of her as a partner for their son, but she would never know for certain. Afterall they both came from old money aristocratic families, and Selina decidedly did not.

It’s not something that kept her up at night, worrying about the opinions of ghosts. In her mind she’d more than earned her place as a Wayne, and besides, a man who would have broken up with her because his parents disapproved would not have been the man she fell in love with. That said, she was well aware of the pressures involved with joining their famous family, and so tried to be as welcoming as she could to her children’s serious partners. (Of course if said partner hurt one of her children in any way, Selina would become their worst nightmare, but that was a given.)

Luckily most of her kittens had fairly good choices when it came to their significant others. ‘ Well, they do nowadays,’ Selina thought wryly as she remembered some of Dick’s romantic misadventures before he got serious with Koriand’r. (Both she and Bruce were incredibly thankful that Dick had ended up with his Titans teammate instead of his nightmare of a college girlfriend Lori Elton.)

Selina quite liked Dinah; she was whip smart, kind, and fiercely devoted to Barbara, all pluses in her book. Of all her children’s love interests, she was easily the most level headed. It was a good match for Babs, who was far too willing to charge into danger, or burn herself out in the name of a good cause. (Tim tended to be the one who got the most grief for it because he still lived in the manor, but Babs was just as bad as him if not worse when it came to her caffeine addiction.)

At the moment, Babs and Dinah, Dinah’s friend Maxine and her niece Donna were joining her for an informal brunch, while they discussed plans for the two’s upcoming nuptials in January. As the first Wayne in her generation to get married, the wedding of Barbara Gordan-Wayne was going to be an Event, and a logistically massive task to put together.

“Okay, Dinah, darling, light of my life, I need you to be honest with me,” Babs said while rubbing her temples. “What are the odds the Wrath of God is going to show up at our wedding?”

“Uh, less than two percent, but more than zero?” Dinah guessed tentatively. As the fourth Black Canary, Dinah was part of a long line of heroines, each daughter inheriting the title from their mother before them. Her great grandmother had been a founding member of the Justice Society back in the thirties, which was why they were having to hedge their bets on whether the Spectre was going to crash the wedding as an unexpected guest. 

After a moment Barbara sighed and muttered, “Okay, if he shows up we’ll sit him next to Dr. Fate but that means we’ll need to move Midnite…”

Trying to nail down the prospective seating arrangements had been their task for the last hour and it was proving to be an infernal logic puzzle. Because the two brides were so entrenched in the hero community, a lot of capes were going to be in attendance, which was part of why they couldn’t outsource this task to a wedding planner. You couldn’t exactly give the planner a note that Garfield, Beast Boy, and Ivy, Black Orchid, shouldn’t be sat next to each other due to tensions between the Red and the Green, for instance. 

They hadn’t sent out an invitation to the whole Justice League, by any means; Oracle was largely faceless and Barbara really only had close connections to some of the Titans as far as friends went. However once you accounted for her family, which was all of the Bats and the Wonders, and close family friends like the Supers and Ivy and Harley, you started to have a fair amount of heroes on her side of the aisle. Dinah’s invite list was even worse, with pretty much every surviving member of the Justice Society and their descendents being on it. It wasn’t her fault, Dinah had basically grown up among the Society, following her mother to meetings and having a good chunk of the membership as honorary aunts and uncles. 

However it wasn’t going to be a heroes only affair by any means, and all of the ones coming would be doing so in their secret identities. Barbara Gordan-Wayne getting married meant much of Gotham high society, along with business associates of Wayne Enterprises, old friends of Jim’s from the GCPD, and more would be in attendance. It was a massive and very diverse guest list, hence the trickiness of their task.

“I wouldn’t put Commissioner Bullock at the same table as the Kents,” Donna, Babs’ maid of honor said, pointing towards the seating chart. “He smokes like a chimney and the smell will make them miserable, with their sense of smell.” 

“And probably best not to have Carter anywhere near Oliver Queen, you know how they argue,” Maxine added. Maxine was the granddaughter of the Justice Society’s original housekeeper, and the adoptive daughter of Red Tornado. More importantly for the moment she was Dinah’s maid of honor. “Why are you inviting Green Arrow anyway?”

“We’re not inviting him as Green Arrow, we’re inviting him as Ollie Queen,” Babs explained. As an old friend of Brucie’s, it would make sense for the Waynes to invite him, and more importantly, “we’re inviting Roy, and it’d be awkward to leave Ollie out.”

Selina smirked at her eldest, “Feeling like just eloping?”

Barbara gritted her teeth and got a determined look in her eye as she stared down at the chart. “Nope,” she said, popping the p, “I’m going to figure this shit out.” She was Oracle, she could handle making a seating chart. 

It was a lovely, uncharacteristically bright day for Gotham, with sunlight streaming in through the windows. Dinah couldn’t help but be mesmerized by how cute Barbara was, with her tongue stuck out a little in concentration as she worked her way through the arrangements. The sunlight caught her scarlet hair in a way that made Dinah happy to jump through all the hoops of planning this massive extravaganza, as long as she got to marry the beauty sitting next to her at the end.

Dinah fiddled with the hem of her dress and tried to force herself to relax. Despite having been there many times by that point, Dinah couldn’t help being nervous every time she came over. The house was just so fancy that she was always worried about breaking some heirloom, or staining the furniture. At the moment she was holding her glass of orange juice like it was a python that could strike at any moment. 

She was still wrapping her mind around the fact that she was going to be Dinah Lance-Wayne. Her future in-laws had never been anything less than welcoming, but she could admit to a certain degree of nervousness at joining the famous family. ‘ I mean, I rub elbows with literal demigods, but that’s as BC’ she thought to herself; she wasn’t used to physical therapist Dinah Lance getting the same attention she got when wearing the mask. 

Eventually Babs put the pencil down in a satisfied huff and passed the chart back to Dinah for approval. The blonde scanned the page and couldn’t find any waiting powder kegs at first glance. “Looks great, babe.” She was slightly worried about her mom, Black Canary III, being in the same room as two of her exes, Dinah’s dad, Larry Lance, and Teddy Grant, Wildcat II, and alcohol, but that was going to be a problem wherever they sat her. 

“Thank god,” Babs huffed before leaning against Dinah. Dinah moved her arm to wrap it around her fiance and the two snuggled a little closer. It was a moment of quiet contentment, until it was shattered by Dick sliding into the room on his socks, wearing a big smile.

“Hey, guess what? M’gann and J’onn were able to reschedule their trip to Mars, and Garth got out of that ceremony in Atlantis. So that’s three more for the wedding!” Dick exclaimed excitedly. He’d no doubt heard the former from Starfire, who had been adopted into the Martian family, and Tempest had likely told them via the Titans group chat.

“ARGH!” Barbara exclaimed as she tossed her pencil across the room in frustration.

Dick looked down, concerned, “Why are you upset, sis?” He was unaware of anything the J’onzz family or the former Aqualad had done to make her angry.

“Because to get married to the love of my life, I have to somehow figure out how to fit in a hundred different blue-bloods I barely know, half the GCPD, a thousand superheroes, everybody’s plus ones, and the people I actually like all into one party without anyone getting offended, causing a scene, or blowing their secret identities!” Barbara exploded at Dick. “And because you’re the one who should have had to deal with all this stuff first!”

“Wait, why would I-” Dick began.

“BECAUSE YOU AND STARFIRE ARE CLEARLY ALREADY MARRIED, AND YOU’RE TERRIBLE AT HIDING IT!” Barbara exclaimed. It was probably the worst kept secret in the Wayne family, that Dick and Kori were essentially already wed by Tamaranean custom, and likely had been for several months. They called each other Life-Partners all the time, she referred to his siblings as though they were her own, etc. 

“DON’T SAY IT IN FRONT OF MA!” Dick yelled, gesturing wildly towards Selina who was just sitting calmly and sipping her tea.

“SHE KNOWS, BOY WONDER!” Barbara yelled back, “SHE’S A PERSEPHONE DAMNED DETECTIVE; WE ALL ARE!” 

Dick froze and looked over towards his mom, “you know?”

“Of course I know, kitten,” Selina cooed bemusedly. “Your father and I were just waiting for you to tell us in your own time.”

Dick looked down at the floor, sheepishly, “and you’re not mad?”

“I’m mad,” Babs grumbled under breath, causing Dinah to rub her shoulders soothingly. Donna shot Maxine, who wasn’t used to Wayne family antics and was a bit shocked, a fondly exasperated look before rolling her eyes at Babs and Dick.

Selina gave him a pointed look, “Dick, darling, have I ever said you had to have a big fancy wedding? I keep telling your sister I’d be happy to drive her and Dinah to the courthouse and witness them elope right now.”

Babs grumbled a little; her mother wasn’t wrong, this trial was one of her own choosing. Because she was the first Wayne of her generation to get married, it was getting a lot more attention than it otherwise might, and she was knowingly biting the bullet. A big spectacle of a wedding was just a furtherance of all the work Babs put into maintaining her family’s public identities and hiding their heroic ones. She was even working up a plan to have Black Canary be seen publicly in Metropolis the moment she and Dinah were saying I do, (She was a little flummoxed on how to do so, since her usual method of having a close associate don the costume was made more difficult by the people she would trust enough to do it, also being people she wanted at her wedding, but she’d figure something out.) Protecting her loved ones identities was a major way Babs felt she could be helpful, be useful, and she was willing to put up with a lot to do so. 

“As long as they’re kind and supportive of you, it couldn’t matter less to me who you love or how you do it,” Selina continued firmly. “I would have liked to be invited to the no doubt lovely Tamaranean ceremony you and Kori had, but no, I’m not upset and neither is your father.”

“It’s not much of a ceremony,” Dick mumbled, “and we’re talking about doing an earth style wedding too to make it really official. We just didn’t want to go first…” He shot an apologetic look towards Babs and Dinah. 

Barbara let out a long sigh before smiling slightly at Dick. “I’m not that mad at you either bro, just frustrated with all the planning stuff.” She held up her hand to stop Selina before she could interject, “I know we don’t have to do this, but I want to do this.” She took Dinah’s hand and looked lovingly into her eyes, “And not just because it's expected of someone in my position, or to help with our covers. Even if organizing it makes me want to pull my hair out sometimes, I want to show the whole world I’m marrying the most fantastic woman alive.”

“I’m afraid it’s impossible for you to marry the most fantastic woman alive,” Dinah said with a smirk, “because that’s who I’m going to be marrying.”

Babs snorted, “you’re such a goofball.”

“Yeah but you love me for it,” Dinah replied easily.

“I really do.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

The Forests of Topaz, Gemworld, Realm of Chaos.

The only warning they had of the ambush was the sound of the arrows whistling through the air as the deadly missiles shot towards them. Chloe barely managed to avoid getting skewered thanks to Lady Turquoise tackling her to the ground at the last moment. Two of their number, Bokk and Demmaran weren’t so lucky, catching an arrow in the eye and the neck respectively; she didn’t know them well, the two were rebels from the Aquamarine Archipelago that had journeyed north to link up with Lady Emerald’s forces, but the sight of their death still sickened Chloe, even if people dying was becoming all too familiar a sight. 

Luckily she and her companions weren’t completely helpless, far from it. At the same time Turquoise was protecting Chloe, Ingvie was leading the remainder of their party in returning fire at the attackers. They had been taking a winding game trail from Emerald territory into Topaz lands. It was a deeply wooded area, and it was difficult to pick out their attackers from amongst the trees. 

Their goal was to cut through the Bog of a Thousand Despairs and make it to the lands of Garnet, where a separate rebellion led by Prince Garnet was situated; if they could unite his forces and the southern rebellion led by Lady Emerald under one banner, the force might be large enough to challenge Opal’s armies openly on the field of battle, and perhaps convince the neutral houses like Sardonyx and Moonstone to join Emerald, Amethyst, Turquoise, Garnet and Aquamarine in the fight for freedom. 

Unfortunately, while Princess Topaz was one of their number, currently blasting shards of her eponymous gemstone at a large burly assailant who was charging towards them with a greatsword, her brother was decidedly not. Prince Topaz had wed a noble of House Sapphire, one of Dark Opal’s closest vassals along with Diamond, and shared their loyalty to the usurping tyrant of Gemworld. (Chloe really wished it wasn’t the custom amongst the noble houses of Gemworld to exclusively use their house names if they were of a certain rank; it made it really annoying to keep who all the players were straight in her head.) The hotheaded prince had obviously set his men to guard and search all possible paths through their lands, looking to kill his wayward sister and the rumored returned Princess Amethyst. 

Despite initially being on the back foot, the rebellion’s forces rallied quickly and started laying waste to the attacking soldiers. The group was small in number, only about a dozen or so, but it included the powerful highly trained scions of three high noble houses, four if you count Chloe, though she didn't exactly fit the highly trained part. Very quickly most of the twenty or so attackers were dispatched, either when they broke cover to attempt a melee, or blasted away in their hiding spots by either Lady Emerald or Princess Topaz’s magic. All the while Lady Turquoise kept close guard over Chloe, who despite her birthright, was by far the least experienced in combat. 

Soon they had dwindled to only a handful, but apparently they were holding on to a trump card. “Release the beast!” One of the surviving Topaz men called further back into the forest. The sound of heavy chains unshackling echoed through the woods, followed by a deafening roar. Chloe looked in the direction of the sound, to see many trees being knocked aside like matchsticks as a great scaly green dragon charged towards them.

“Are you kidding me, a freaking Dragon?” Chloe bemoaned incredulously, “Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

It wasn’t as big as some dragon’s she’d come across in fiction, maybe about two and a half times the length of a tiger; she couldn’t tell for sure as it was charging and she wasn’t about to stop and try to measure it. The wings of the creature were still pinned to its back with heavy metal restraints, but it had full use of its deadly claws, fang filled mouth and spiked tail that it used to bat impeding flora out of the way as it barreled towards them. 

It slammed into the ground a few meters away from her and reared back, swatting Lady Turquoise with its tail and sending her flying into woods. Crimson flames began to swirl around its maw as it focused in on Chloe, sucking in air before letting out a massive belch of fire at the misplaced Parisian. 

Chloe acted on instinct, throwing her hands in front of her to try and protect herself from the dragon’s flames. Purple energy swirled out of the aether and snapped into a hardlight shell around her, deflecting the fire. “Holy Kwami I’m doing it!” Chloe exclaimed. Despite the danger all around her, she couldn’t help smiling in pride at her accomplishment.

Learning to construct the magical hard light constructs with her newly awakened powers had been a focus of her training with Lady Citrina, and not something she’d been very successful at until now. Then again, a need to survive was a very good catalyst for improvement. As proud as she was of it, the mystical shield was only keeping the dragon’s flames at bay, while the lumbering reptile began stomping towards her. Lady Emerald attempted to restrain it with bands of green light, but was also simultaneously having to shield their troops from the arrows of the remaining attackers. 

‘Sure getting eaten by a dragon might as well happen’ Chloe thought tiredly, as the beast broke free of the bonds of Lady Emerald’s magic and charged towards her once again.

Chloe had been learning to roll with the punches as a matter of survival. In relatively rapid succession she’d discovered, her parents were not her birth parents, her mother had never wanted to adopt her in the first place, explaining how cold and frankly cruel she’d been to Chloe in her childhood, her birth parents were apparently frickin MAGICAL ROYALTY, she’d been sent away in the first place because of a threat on her life, her birth parents were dead, her birth name was Amaya, and oh yeah, she was the lost princess of a magical realm and apparently the last hope of an entire alternate dimension’s rebellion against a power crazed tyrant. 

So you might say, Chloe was feeling a bit of emotional whiplash. While discovering you have incredible powers was great and all, discovering the massive responsibility that went along with it was sobering. ‘ This must have been how Mari felt, protecting Paris with the Miraculous’ Chloe thought wistfully. She’d always sympathized with her friend, but now she really got it. 

In terms of literal power, Chloe wasn’t that much more powerful than her new allies, especially when you took into account her lack of experience both in combat and wielding her mystic energies. Sure, Hose Amethyst was said to be the most powerful of the noble houses, but most heirs had been training all their lives; Chloe found out she even had magical powers six months ago when she was pulled through the portal. What she did have, was symbolic, political power that could be used to convince some hitherto neutral lords to rebel, and theoretically turn the disparate guerilla groups fighting Opal into a united front. 

However none of that was going to matter apparently, since it looked like she was going to meet her end, right now, at the teeth of a hungry dragon. Chloe closed her eyes and braced for an impact, when a clear and powerful woman’s voice rang out through the wood. 

“ NRUT TI ONTI A TWEN!”

Chapter Text

El Paso, New Mexico, Early August

Eric Needham, the villain known as Black Spider, shot a web line to the nearby textbook repository, using it to pull him rapidly away from the bank he’d just robbed. He had a sack of cash slung over his back, and was looking for a quick getaway. Unfortunately for him it wasn’t to be as a sonic beam slammed into him mid flight, sending him tumbling back to the ground. A figure wearing blue insectoid armor zoomed over him as he hit the ground. 

“I suggest you surrender, Spider,” Blue Beetle declared while leveling his sonic cannon at him, “the superior insect has arrived!”

“I’m an arachnid, you idiot,” Black Spider coughed as he stumbled back to his feet. Before he could do more, the Beetle’s jet booster sent him zipping forward and the criminal caught an armored fist to the chin, sending him into unconsciousness while Beetle produced blue manacles with his suit. Black Spider was a skilled career criminal, but unfortunately he just wasn’t in the same weight class as the new Blue Beetle. 

Jaime was riding high from the capture, taking a moment to wave to the gathered crowd as the police arrived to take Eric into custody. After he’d gotten over his initial fear of the scarab that had attached itself to his spine, he’d really come to enjoy being the new Blue Beetle. Sure, it was sad that his predecessor had died before he could meet him, but Jaime was focussing on the positives. The Scarab armor, which they had to assume Ted Kord built before perishing, had turned the unassuming New Mexico teen into a true powerhouse. 

Unfortunately, there had also been some disappointments in his relatively fresh heroic career. For one, he’d been denied the spot on the Justice League that his predecessor had enjoyed, instead being relegated to the proverbial ‘kid’s table’ that was Young Justice. It was so stupid, in Jaime’s opinion; he was easily more powerful than some of the also-rans that were on the League, like Mister Terrific or Green Arrow. It was a waste of his potential to keep him working with Superboy, Wondergirl and Batgirl fighting minor threats, when he could easily be standing alongside SuperMAN, WonderWOMAN and BatMAN. If only Batwoman hadn’t somehow known his identity, and decided 16 was too young for the League. 

It was also fair to say his success in his personal life had also been a mixed bag since getting the Scarab. Having to duck out of school whenever there was a super emergency in his region added a bit of a strain to maintaining his grades. Then there were his romantic prospects. On the one hand, he’d become confident enough to actually ask girls out after becoming Blue Beetle, on the other his only attempted relationship so far had crashed and burned. 

Things started out well enough with Batgirl, a little flirting here and there, hanging out together at Mount Justice, Young Justice’s base of operations, after missions that sort of thing. While he’d admittedly asked the cowled girl out initially because he was still too nervous to ask out his longtime childhood crush Brenda, largely because he was much more confident in the armor, he ended up enjoying his time with Batgirl. She was funny, pretty even under all that kevlar, and the couple of make-out sessions they’d had in the back caves of the mountain were absolutely a plus.

However, it hadn’t taken things long to sour. Jaime liked the distance their masks gave him from his normal identity, but after a month and a half of sort of casually being together, he was ready to get more serious. Batgirl admitted she knew who he was anyway, and it was so hypocritical of her not to share her real identity with him; he’d actually tried to see if the scarab could scan through her cowl so he’d at least know what she looked like, but found the cowl oddly impenetrable. 

The argument that spun out of that disagreement had been the spark of their relationship going up in smoke as quickly as it started. Now Batgirl hadn’t been on a mission with YJ in months, even after Raptor had returned to leading the team. Jaime tried to shake himself out of his brooding as he rocketed back into the sky and extended his wings to fly home; at the end of the day there was nothing like being able to fly to get your mind off of things. 

Despite essentially being power armor, the Blue Beetle’s suit felt like wearing nothing at all. It was just part of Jaime, which made a certain amount of sense considering it came from the Scarab bound to him. What he found the most marvelous about though, was the way it responded to his thoughts. Almost instinctively he could shift weapon configurations, fly with pinpoint accuracy, or even automatically analyze an attack pattern. Perhaps it was hubris, but he thought he had the most complete array of powers of any hero shy of the Big Blue Boyscout. 

What Jaime wasn’t aware of, was that his mental connection to the Blue Beetle scarab was a two way street. It didn’t fully control him, but it could influence him over time, inserting its thoughts into his and manipulating his brain chemistry as needed. Indeed, at the moment, the natural power trip anyone would go on from effectively getting super powers was being stoked out of proportion by the alien weapon. People who knew him before he got the Scarab, had observed Jaime becoming noticeably more arrogant and full of himself, but most of them just wrote it off to puberty. He was still Jaime, but the bug welded to his spine was bringing out his worst qualities. 

The Scarab was insidious and subtle, utilizing Jaime’s preexisting desires and instincts to push him into becoming what it needed him to be. An earnest instinct towards heroism became a burning desire to be on the Justice League; a natural curiosity about his fellow heroes was twisted into a petulant need to know their secret identities. The alien weapon’s directive was to shape its host into a false paragon. Its goal, to make its wielder both beloved by the general populace of the planet, and an essential part of its defense establishment, all the better to create the perfect unknowing saboteur and quisling. 

Worse, as he flew into his bedroom window, unknown to Jaime, or any hero on Earth for that matter, the Scarab continued to transmit the hidden subspace frequency it had been broadcasting ever since the moment it reactivated and bit into his spine. A coded quiet message that flagged Earth as being partially infiltrated, attracting the attention of an ancient and powerful alien empire that was always looking for new acquisitions,

The Reach.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Across the Globe, August

Cousin Chat, Members: Bruce and Kate

KATE: I need you to come back to the League as soon as possible.

BRUCE: What’s the situation?

KATE: Booster and Hal are idiots and if I have to sit through one more meeting with them I’m going to drive my wife’s sword through my eye. Booster just suggested I lease my cape as advertising space. I want to punch him. Repeatedly. 

BRUCE: Booster and Jordan are always idiots. You realize me being there won’t get you out of those meetings, right?

KATE: Sure it will, if you’re back on active duty I can go hang out with Selina on the reservist roster. We agreed one of us needed to be active duty at all times to keep an eye on all these crazy people, not both.

BRUCE: I understand; I’m just trying to prioritize being available to the kids while Marinette’s getting adjusted. I don’t want anyone feeling neglected with all the focus Mari is getting. If you’re truly incapable of continuing, I trust Diana to keep an eye on things.

KATE: Well obviously I trust Di to handle the League, I’m just venting B, lighten up a little. 

BRUCE: You had a comma splice there.

KATE: Your a comma splice.

BRUCE: You’re*.

KATE: Damnit. Anyway, nothing major to report on the JL front beyond the usual annoyances. According to Rayner, the Kund are rattling their sabers again, but it's doubtful Earth is the target, this time. Still, we’ve got Stewart monitoring the situation. 

BRUCE: Understood, update me if anything changes.

KATE: Of course. Diana wants to have dinner at our place this week, Julia’s going to make crepes.

BRUCE: Remember Harper has an allergy to spinach.

KATE: Bruce, I know. It’s almost like she’s been my niece for more than a year and you tell me that everytime we feed her.

BRUCE: Hn, you can never be too careful.

KATE: Did you seriously just type out your grunt?

—--------------------

Titans Group Chat, Members: Nightwing, Troia, Beast Boy, Starfire, Arsenal, Omen, Cyborg, +4 more.

TROIA: Would it make you a villain if you punted your sister across the room? Asking for a friend.

OMEN: What did the littlest Wonder do this time?

TROIA: She borrowed my favorite sweater again, and somehow lost it somewhere. I LIKED that sweater. It was fluffy 😭.

BEAST BOY: Maybe she was just trying to mark your clothes with her scent? I do that all the time.

CYBORG: Uh, BB this might be a case where your view of human behavior is a bit skewed.

ARSENAL: WAIT is that why you keep stealing my hats?!?!?

BEAST BOY: No, I do that because a trucker hat can’t be part of your costume Roy, it’s REALLY dumb.

TROIA: ^^

CYBORG: ^^

OMEN: ^^

EX-KF: ^^

STARFIRE: Friends, what does ^^ mean?

TROIA: It means we agree with Beast Boy’s statement, Star.

STARFIRE: AH, I see! ^^

NIGHTWING: Wait, is it a green cable knit turtleneck?

TROIA: YES!

NIGHTWING: She left it over at the Cave, I think Lady Noire took it to get dry cleaned.

TROIA: Have I told her she’s my favorite cousin yet?  Because she totally is now.

NIGHTWING: :(

—---------------------

Wayne Sibling Chat, Members: Barbara, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Harper, Marinette, Damian, Duke, Carrie

TIM: Family Emergency Alert: Marinette has never played video games. Like any video game. I was talking about Mario Kart, and she asked if Luigi was a friend of mine.

CARRIE: I mean that's actually kind of funny.

MARI: Is this really an emergency? 

BABS: YES! I’m ordering you a gaming PC, what color do you want the case?

TIM: Jason and I are at the electronics store right now getting her a Switch. 

DUKE: Are you secretly a time traveler, Mari? How have you never played a video game before, just not interested?

MARI: Uh, the people I lived with always said they were a waste of money so…

STEPH: Ah, tragic backstory, we understand. Cass?

CASS: On it!

MARI: Wait, on what!?

HARPER: Mari hang out in my room till I’m done with patrol, we’ll play Smash together!

DICK: Stay focused Harper.

HARPER: o7 Yes sir, Mr. Nightwing sir.

DAMIAN: No aliases in civilian chat.

BABS: Don’t worry Dami, I’ll make sure the logs are scrubbed of anything incriminating.

DAMIAN: Hn.

CARRIE: Why do only you and dad type that out?

STEPH: Status update, Cass and I have secured Mari and are giving her hugs as we speak

MARI: ASDJK#$KF

—-------------------

Dinah’s Bridal Party Chat, Members: Dinah Lance, Maxine Hunkel, Jennifer Pierce, Courtney Whitmore, Tatsu Yamashiro, Zinda Blake, and Dawn Granger

DINAH: Guys, I’m panicking. Do you think this looks nice enough to wear to the Gala? 

TATSU: I remember when our conversations were about how best to defeat villains, not questions of sartorial nuances.

DINAH: Trust me, the vultures at the Gotham Gazette are more threatening than Blockbuster could ever be. Seriously, I’m freaking out a little. Is it too businessy?

MAXIE: Relax Dinah, deep breaths. The outfit looks wonderful, and you’ll be as stunning as you always are.

DAWN: Why are you worried? Haven’t you done these red carpet type things with Babs a bunch of times?

COURTNEY: Yeah, but this is the first big event as The Fiance™, they only announced a little after the last party. Also Dinah, when are you going to start inviting us to these fancy shindigs?

ZINDA: Wait, are we going to this party? Sounds like a hoot.

MAXIE: NOBODY is going to the party besides Dinah and her lovely soon to be wife, who are both going to look wonderful and need to stop worrying. 

DINAH: Sigh, thank’s Maxie. I think it’s what I’m going with.

JENN: Honestly I’m just impressed with how long you’ve managed to maintain a healthy relationship with a civilian. Having to dash out of dates every time Count Vertigo throws a hissy fit has seriously torpedoed my dating life with anyone not in the business. 

DAWN: Yeah, Babs must have the patience of a saint what with Dinah being on the League and helping the Bats out as much as she does.  

DAWN: Which totally makes sense, your girl has been incredibly sweet every time I’ve met her, Di.

ZINDA: Yeah, Babs is definitely a top dame. 

JENN: She does seem really understanding about Dinah’s responsibilities; wouldn’t expect that of some rich girl, honestly.

TATSU: Heh

COURTNEY: What’s funny?

—-------------------

BEST FRIENDS CHAT 💚💜, Members: Chloe, Marinette

MARI: I miss you.

Message Undelivered. Number Disconnected.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Batcave, Mid-August, Late Afternoon

The Cave was largely empty at this time of day, with Carrie, Mari, and Harper having finished their lessons, pickpocketing under Selina’s tutelage that particular day, earlier on. In an hour it would be buzzing with the Bats who were patrolling that night, getting in costume and doing last minute gear checks, but at the moment it was occupied only by Bruce and Harley.

The two were working largely in companionable silence on their respective cases. Bruce was in the Cave’s crime lab, trying to isolate the various chemical compounds in a sample of a new variation of Fever that had hit the streets. The party drug had been a consistent problem for the last several years, in part due to its relatively cheap production. The usual pills gave an immediate intense high, complete with manic energy and euphoria, but it was relatively short, lasting only half an hour or so and leading many to ‘chain’ high so to speak, wrecking their bodies as they did so.

What made this particular strain, dubbed Hot Reds, interesting was that it seemed whoever was producing it had made the drug longer lasting, but with perhaps even worse withdrawal symptoms. In any event it was something Bruce wanted to cut off at the trunk, and gathering information on it was the first step. 

While Bruce ran the samples through various tests, Harley was reading through their casefiles on Killer Croc, collating his known haunts. Waylon had escaped during his transfer from Gotham’s Blackgate to Belle Reve in Louisiana; it was only a matter of time till he made his way back to Gotham’s sewers and Mockingbird wanted to be ready. It might startle people who only knew her as the villainous Harley Quinn, to see what a dedicated crimefighter she’d become as Mockingbird, but to Bruce it seemed perfectly natural. Harley had been incredibly driven and compassionate for as long as he’d known her, as evidenced by the way she’d basically forced herself into a friendship with the brooding loner that was a young Bruce Wayne. In his view, her time as Joker’s ‘girlfriend’ was the aberration.

As the centrifuge spun the sample, Bruce couldn’t help his thoughts wandering towards another threat looming over their city. His countenance grew dark as he began to muse, ‘ is there a connection betwe-’.

“Bruce, you’re brooding,” Harley informed him, cutting into his inner monologue before he could descend into his worries. 

“Hm, that’s hardly a novel observation doctor,” Bruce replied wryly. 

Harley snorted, “true, takes you back to highschool, don’t it?” The setup was rather reminiscent of their school days, just with a different setting. Back then they would have been staying after in the chemistry lab, Bruce deep in his forensics practice and Harley playfully teasing him while she studied for Premed. Many had found their friendship odd, the constantly chattering Harley and the nearly silent Bruce, but the two evened each other out in a lot of ways. “What’s got your tights in a twist this time?” Harley asked while leaning back from her files and stretching her arms out, “cause I doubt it’s just a slightly new party drug that’s making your eyebrows scrunch together.”

“I do not scrunch my eyebrows,” Bruce protested, deflecting from the actual question. Harley gave him a look and Bruce sighed before muttering, “I’m a bit concerned about the new Red Hood gang.” 

Red Hood had made some big waves in the criminal underworld, usurping and consolidating quite a few smaller criminal outfits in a relatively short amount of time. Anyone that competent was already a threat, but it was another aspect of the villain that disturbed him, his chosen moniker. This wasn’t the first Red Hood to terrorize Gotham, and Bruce was among the very few who knew the more famous identity of the last man to wear that mask, The Joker. 

Sometimes he thought of it as his greatest failure, allowing the relatively minor criminal, Jack Napier, to fall into the chemical vat. It hadn’t been intentional of course, the man was frantic and moving erratically, while Bruce was simultaneously dodging gunfire from the remainder of the Red Hood gang. He liked to think nowadays he could have managed to catch the mobster, but in his greenhorn days the Red Hood had slipped between his fingers, and true madness had followed after. 

There were other failures that weighed on him of course, but several of the key ones, Barbara’s paralyzation, Jason getting beaten into a coma, the poisoning of Harley’s mind, the death of Jim Gordon and more could all be tracked back to that day if you followed the path of causality. Because that was the day the Joker was born, the moment Jack Napier fell into that toxic bath. 

The connection between Red Hood and Joker wasn’t widely known, and the man’s identity before he had become the Clown Prince of Crime was even more obscure. Partially because it didn’t really matter; the Joker’s mentality was a clean break from whatever he was before, and what he was mattered a good deal more than who he had been. The question though, was whether this new Red Hood knew of the connection between the name he was using and the most terrible villain to ever terrorize Gotham.

After all, Joker was merely the last Red Hood, he was hardly the first, and the man that would become Harley’s green haired tormenter had only worn the mask for a single night, as far as Bruce could tell. The original Red Hood gang, which had operated for around two years before Bruce’s first foray as Batman, had a peculiar organization. Its eponymous leader was nothing of the sort, with the Red Hood being worn instead by whoever the newest member in the organization was at the time, a ploy to deflect attention from the true leaders of the outfit and serve as a right of passage for those looking to enter the crime ring. 

There was no indication that the current Red Hood was following that system, and cursory analysis of his vocal patterns from the few times they’d managed to capture his voice indicated they were dealing with a singular individual. Bruce had briefly considered that a mastermind was speaking through the speakers on Red Hood’s mask, in a higher tech version of the old scheme, but Cassandra had analyzed the body language of various different pieces of footage and determined they were at least dealing with the same fighter everytime he’d surfaced.

Bruce and Tim’s investigation had also shown no connections to any of the previous members of the Red Hood gang, which led him to the conclusion they were likely dealing with a wholly new player utilizing an old name. The only question was why the villain had chosen to revive that particular name. The balance of probability was that he likely was trying to trade a little on the clout of the once successful gang, as a means of jumpstarting his own criminal enterprise. Bruce certainly understood the power of symbolism, or, to put it in a more pedestrian manner, name recognition. However, there remained the more disturbing possibility that he was intentionally evoking the Joker.

If that were the case, it was a rather pointed message almost certainly aimed at Batman himself. The public was unaware of the connection between Joker and Red Hood, but Batman was. That was a frightening thought in of itself, because it indicated that the man knew not only more than he should about the Joker, but also more than he should about Batman. Considering some of his comments towards Jason, they might assume he had some personal animosity towards the Batfamily, but Bruce was wary of taking any of  his words at face value. Just as claims of trying to lethally clean up the streets seemed like a ploy to legitimize his criminal enterprise, badmouthing the Bats was a fairly standard way to win support from Gotham’s underbelly. 

He had every intention of keeping all this speculation under his cowl, but unfortunately for Bruce, his friend was not one to be deterred. “You think it might be him,” Harley said somberly, without a hint of her usual bubbliness. There was no need to specify who she was referring to. “B, he’s dead and burnt to ashes. I know this Hood guy has you rattled, but it’s not him. It’s just some ass, who’s trying to rattle you. Don’t let him.” 

Bruce let out a sigh, “I don’t believe the Red Hood is the Joker.” Beyond the fact that Bruce had made very sure to confirm the clown’s death following his execution in Qurac, the behavior pattern of Red Hood was nothing like the Joker’s. The mad man was difficult to build a singular psychological profile for, in part because he delighted in being unpredictable, but Bruce knew in his gut Joker didn’t have the patience for Hood’s methodical approach to consolidating power. The clown was never anything less than flashy, and would have announced his return with a massive splash. The Wayne patriarch locked eyes with Harley, “but I can’t ignore the possibility he’s a former associate or some sort of budding copycat.”

Somedays Bruce could barely believe that the Joker had been dead for over seven years, longer than the six he’d been active for. The laughing monster loomed so large over the beginning of his crime fighting career, and was the source of so much personal tragedy in his life. The only other figure that came close was Joe Chill, and Bruce could easily admit that Joker was by far the worse criminal. The scars he’d left on Bruce, his family and his city were long and deep.

Harley took a deep breath to steady herself before matching his stare with a determined glint in her eye. Anything having to do with Joker obviously unsettled her, but she’d push down her unease to protect her family. “None of his old henchmen seem super likely, but I can snoop around a bit,” Harley informed him; Bruce had files on most of the Joker’s confirmed accomplices, but Harley obviously had a bit more personal knowledge. “We should also probably make sure Gaggy hasn’t slipped out of Arkham. He’s not a physical match for Hood, but if anyone is trying to invoke Joker, I'd bet on him.”

Bruce gave a curt nod, (Harley was fluent enough in Bruce to understand that meant “Thank you very much my dear friend Harleen, I don’t know what I’d do without you”), before adding, “While you do that, I’ll investigate the Jokerz to see if they’re involved.” The Jokerz were a new gang of mostly teenagers too young to remember the killer pwersonally that had taken up the Joker as something of a mascot. That was the main reason they were even on the Bats’ radar, since they'd typically stuck to petty stuff like vandalism and low-level dealing, so far.

“I’m surprised you weren’t already looking into them,” Harley quipped. If Bruce really thought there was even a remote chance Red Hood was connected to the Joker, she expected him to be furiously pursuing every potential lead with the monomaniacal focus the clown brought out in him.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, “who did you think was selling the Hot Reds?”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Metropolis, Kent Condo, Mid-August

Lois knew something was off the instant she got back to the apartment. It was a long day at the Planet; she was trying to run down some sources on a story, but ended up getting the runaround from maybe fifteen different government agencies. She’d played telephone tag for hours, and was fairly frustrated by the end of the day. However, that went straight out of her head when she heard the quiet crying coming from her daughter’s room. 

Raising any child came with challenges, but raising three alien children was a unique experience, and not a uniform one. While all three of the Kent kids were some variety of Kryptonian and dealt with some of the same things, enhanced senses, strength control, etc, they were also different in several important ways. Both Connor and Jon were half human, half kryptonian hybrids but her older son was the result of genetic engineering while Jon was naturally born. Connor’s flash growing, being aged up to an apparent teenager and implanted with basic information, was its own source of angst for the teen. He needed reassurance that he was just as real, just as genuine as any other member of their family.

Jon on the other hand, was closer to Clark, as the only other kryptonian to grow from infancy on Earth and develop his powers as he aged. It was lucky that some of the bigger ones, like flight and heat vision, hadn’t kicked in for Clark until he was a bit older, and hopefully Jon would follow a similar progression. It was a little harder to teach a six year old they needed not to fly in public after all. 

However, in many ways, the most alien of her children, in the truest sense of the word, was Kara. Because Kara, uniquely among the family, remembered Krypton as a living breathing society in a way even Clark couldn’t. She’d spent the first ten years of her life speaking Kryptonese, preparing to follow in her father’s footsteps in the science guild, and living a non super powered life under a red sun. So, in addition to having to teach her to deal with the powers she’d suddenly had when she arrived on earth, they’d had to learn to help a refugee who’s entire culture was destroyed.

There were bound to be a few cultural miscommunications. Lois still remembered the day a bawling Kara had painfully admitted she didn’t want to be a journalist and was despairing over dishonoring the House of Kent. Clark had to pull her down from the ceiling so he and Lois could explain that she wasn’t expected to follow the same career they did. Overtime Kara acclimated to Earth, but occasionally she still got tripped up by the differences even today.

Lois loved her husband and children, and tried to help them keep Kryptonian traditions alive, but sometimes she thought, if Krypton was a living civilization, she might give the high council a piece of her mind about some things. On the one hand Krypton had obviously been far beyond Earth in many regards. That said, perhaps it wasn’t surprising to find valid criticism of a civilization that, for all of its accomplishments, had allowed itself to be destroyed by its own hubris while its leaders shoved their heads in the sand. 

Among the elements of kryptonian society Lois felt the most critical of, was their de facto caste system. All children were genetically engineered for and predestined to enter into the same guild as one of their parents; in Kara’s case there had been an expectation that she’d follow her father into the Science Guild and apparently she assumed she’d need to follow one of her Earth parents careers in the same way.

They’d gotten through it, like they did the rest of Kara’s cultural acclimation. Lois’s daughter was now thinking about becoming a teacher, but really just seemed to be enjoying not having to make a choice of what to do for a career so soon. (Once at dinner a few months ago, Conner had lost his dessert rights for making a quip that Kara could just live off of Cass’s money. It was likely true, but still rude.)

Still, that day had been an aberration; even when Kara was upset, she rarely cried where others could see. Her little ball of sunshine never wanted to bother others, so discovering her crying like she had that day, or like she did now, was a sign something was really bothering her. She opened Kara’s door to find the blonde laying on her bed, clutching her stuffed otter and softly crying to herself. Lois gently sat down next to her.

“What’s the matter, little comet?” Lois asked as she patted Kara’s back, “you seemed so happy this morning.” She really had; Kara was practically buzzing with excitement about the upcoming Autumnal Wayne Gala that she’d be attending with Cassandra. The only thing she could think of that would make Kara have such a massive mood swing was Cass breaking up with her, which Lois had a hard time imagining; the two girlfriends were pretty much joined at the hip. Of course if the Wayne heiress had broken her baby girl’s heart, Black Bat was going to be tangling with a very angry mama bear. 

“I know, that’s the problem, I shouldn’t be happy,” Kara said morosely, just further confusing Lois. The blonde sat up and leant against her mom, holding her otter to her chest.

“Of course you should be happy, Karbear,” Lois told her. 

“That’s what Cass said,” Kara replied; her girlfriend had been on the phone with her earlier, trying to console her, and pretty much the only reason Cass wasn’t there at the moment was that Black Bat was in the middle of helping Batwoman and Mockingbird wrangle a rampaging Killer Croc. “I just feel so guilty,” Kara admitted quietly.

“Why are you feeling guilty?” Lois asked, a little confused over what Kara could have done to put herself in such a state emotionally.

“Because I think I like it better here than I did there,” Kara sniffled.

“There being…?” Lois asked.

“Krypton. I’m happier here, freer here. I love you, and my brothers and dad, and Cass and being Supergirl, and that’s terrible because billions of people had to die for me to be here,” Kara finally explained. That was the awful truth Kara was grappling with, a growing realization that she really preferred Earth to Krypton. She loved the food, the people, the thriving biosphere, the freedom to choose her own path in life, flying. It was wonderful and she felt like a monster for enjoying it. She felt like she was betraying her home planet.

Lois would never tell Kara, but there were some days she wanted to step back through time and punch Kara’s birth father in the face. She knew she shouldn’t judge someone who’s world was about to explode too harshly, but the man had done a lot to give her daughter a major guilt complex she didn’t deserve. Some of it was inevitable with Kara essentially being a refugee of a destroyed people, but a portion of it came from Zor-El’s last instructions. The entire weight of carrying on Krypton’s culture rested on the blonde girl’s shoulders, and Lois knew Kara blamed herself somedays for being raised by Clark instead of raising him, as was originally planned. Raising Kal-El and safeguarding the Kryptonian archives that traveled with him had been Kara’s stated duty, even if Lois thought it was ridiculous to task a ten year old with raising an infant. 

That whole situation had hit rather close home for the journalist, considering the latter half of her own childhood. Lois’s father, General Sam Lane, had never been the most present father, and that wasn’t just down to the sacrifices that came from service. Lois had grown up on bases, surrounded by other army brats where all the other kids also naturally had family in the army. The realities of the institution meant her friends also dealt with periods of separation, but eventually she realized that her friends’ parents weren’t nearly as absent as her own father was from his daughters’ lives.

Sam Lane would be gone for months at a time, only to return for a week or two before leaving again. It also wasn’t like they spent a lot of time with him while he was staying at the family home, with him typically spending most of his time at work, the officer’s club, or in his private study. Of course, when he did take notice of Lois he’d be very strict, demanding respect, and going on about duty; in many ways she felt like he treated them more like soldiers than family. For a long time that hadn’t mattered to Lois, who’d idolized her father when she was young, but eventually she’d come to resent it.

Her mother, Jisoo Lane, had been by far the more active parent. Her mom was always there for her, and maybe that was why it took Lois so long to really feel how distant her father was. Looking back, Lois had an incredible amount of respect for her mom, a first generation immigrant, dealing with an absent husband, who basically raised two kids by herself. The only thing she’d never understood, even looking back as an adult, was why her mother had married her dad in the first place. She knew they’d met when her father was stationed in South Korea, and wed not long after, so presumably there’d been some sort of spark at that point, but she’d seen little evidence of it growing up.

Perhaps there was some tenderness behind closed doors, or another dimension to their marriage she hadn’t understood at the time. She thought her dad at least respected Jisoo, and suspected that she was the one to coerce him to be home even as little as he was, but much of their relationship remained a mystery to Lois. A mystery that would likely never be answered due to her non-existent relationship with her father, and her mother passing from cancer just before Lois turned 13. 

Her father’s absences grew much worse following the passing of Lois and Lucy’s mom, when Lois was 12 and Lucy 6; after that, either consumed by his own grief or just untethered from his feeling of obligation to his home life, the general threw himself even more into his work. They moved to a suburb of DC, but Sam wasn’t really a regular occupant of the big empty house. The Lane sisters would go weeks, or even months without seeing him, and while there was sometimes a junior officer or hired nanny supervising them to some degree, it largely fell to Lois to take care of her little sister. Don’t get her wrong, Lois loved Lucy and the sisters had a very close relationship, but looking back that wasn’t the kind of responsibility that should have been dropped on a grieving child.

Krypton’s situation was obviously different, there were extenuating circumstances that arguably led to Zor-El making the best of an apocalyptically bad situation, but the parallels still bothered Lois. In the moment though, she couldn’t afford to get into her complex feelings regarding her own childhood, she needed to comfort her kid. 

“Kay, none of that is your fault, sweetie,” Lois began while pulling her daughter into a side hug. “You had nothing to do with Krypton’s destruction, and your birth family would want you to be living your life here to the fullest.”

“But I shouldn’t be glad,” Kara protested, “I shouldn’t be happy Krypton’s gone.”

Lois leaned over to kiss Kara on the brow, “I don’t think enjoying your life here necessarily means being happy Krypton is gone. What brought all this on?” She knew from both experience and countless conversations with Selina that teenage mood swings could come out of nowhere, but Kara was generally less prone to them than her brother, Conner. 

Kara took a breath. “I was feeling really happy, trying on my dress for the gala,” Kara started to explain, “and then Conner asked if it was anything like formal wear back on Krypton.”

“No, it’s more like formal robes, right?” Lois asked softly. She was probably the foremost human expert on Krypton, both from Kara’s stories and many trips to the Fortress of Solitude. “Were you upset about not getting to wear more traditional Kryptonian clothing?” Lois reasoned it might not be unlike a kid fantasizing about being old enough to wear clothes signifying adulthood, like the toga in ancient Rome, or a white dress on your wedding day; Kara might be realizing she was missing those traditional milestones as she grew up on Earth.

“No, I’m upset because I wasn’t upset,” Kara replied. “I was looking at the dress and suddenly it just hit me that I didn’t miss Kryptonian clothes. Somewhere along the line I started preferring Earth clothing, and Earth food, and Earth culture. Then I realized I wouldn’t want to go back to Krypton even if I could and that’s a horrible thing to feel.” 

“Kara, it’s not a bad thing to like your home,” Lois remarked. “Krypton will always be the place of your birth, but you're an Earthling as much as you’re a Kryptonian, kiddo.” 

“Yeah, I guess…” Kara mumbled. She really did feel like Earth was her home, even if there was some lingering guilt over how she got there. 

“Look, does me being glad that you’re here make me a terrible person?” Lois asked.

“What-no!” Kara exclaimed.

Lois gave her a reassuring smile, “sweetie, you and your father are only here because of Krypton’s destruction. I love you guys and we never would have met, heck, your brothers wouldn’t exist without that tragedy. It doesn’t make what happened to Krypton good, but at the same time, it doesn’t invalidate good things in the present. Time only moves forward, and you can’t let yourself get twisted in knots thinking about the what ifs.”

Kara let out a deep sigh as she finally let much of the tension she’d been holding onto release, she gave Lois a little smile. “Thanks mom. I guess I needed to hear that.”

Lois squeezed the younger woman’s shoulder, “anytime, sweetie.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Church of Blood International Headquarters, Zandia, That Night

The island nation of Zandia, despite sitting in the sunny Mediterranean, wasn’t exactly a tourist destination. There were several reasons for this such as a lack of amenities, or the long stormy season, but the largest factor was likely that it was governed by a tyrannical theocracy. 

The grand cathedral that was the beating heart of the Church of Blood was an enormous awe-inspiring structure, sprawled atop the island nation of Zandia like some great beast devouring its prey. It was built into Mount Zandi, the highest point of the island, and visible from nearly any point of it; the island’s only proper city lay below it, and was itself dominated by church officials in the same way the church dominated the local geography. 

Deep within the catacombs of the church stood its master, Brother Blood. Clad in crimson robes, the grey haired man was the supreme head of both Zandia and the Church, and, today, he was less than pleased. “I have given you the simple task of capturing one little girl and yet you continue to fail me,” Sebastian Blood sneered at his groveling underling. The similarly robed woman lowered her head even more, almost to a kowtow. “And now I discover she has not merely slipped through our fingers, she has absconded to the Realm of Chaos!”

The pair were in an oddly anachronistic room. On the one hand it was made of the rough hewn stone as the cathedral’s outer walls complete with hung tapestries and torches burning brightly in wall mounted sconces. However, in the middle of the chamber sat a contemporary looking desk, with an intercom and computer sitting on it. Blood, who wore a well tailored suit beneath his traditional robes, was standing in front of his desk whilst his underling, Mother Mayhem, kneeled before him.

“I apologize, my lord,” Mayhem replied to him, “Luthor’s men were slow in providing the information we needed to connect the lost child of Amethyst to her earthly identity. If he had-AAGGH!”

Blood cut off her excuses with a blast of scarlet energy from his fingertips. It wasn’t enough to seriously damage Mayhem, despite his ire she was still a useful servant, but certainly enough to cause pain. “I did not summon you just so you could blame another for your incompetence.” Sebastian was himself also irked by his supposed partner’s lack of urgency in this regard, but, for the moment at least, he could not punish Luthor so Mayhem would have to do. “Chloe Bourgeois was vital to our master’s return, and by failing to capture her, you have thrown the whole endeavor into peril.”

Turning away from Mayhem, who was trying to recombobulate herself after the shock, Sebastian scowled into the flames of the fireplace that sat behind his desk. The discovery that a descendent of the first Amethyst, one of the only Lords of Order to incarnate in mortal form, was living unprotected somewhere on earth had been a great windfall for his ambitions, and losing her before he truly had her was a bitter pill to swallow. Finding another with a strong enough connection to the Lords of Order to corrupt the ritual would be a much more difficult task.

The Adgian Ritual was an ancient piece of magic, one not used since the early history of man, and reactivating it was the stated purpose of Blood’s alliance with Luthor. Created by the most powerful mystics of the Bronze Age, with aid from the first Doctor Fate, to repel unearthly invaders, it was, simply put, a ritual that would simultaneously expel every speck of non-native life from the surface of the planet, back to their point of origin. 

At the time it had been a measure of last resort to defeat the White Martians, who were using primitive man for their genetic experimentation. It had been effective in that, but quickly fell out of use and into obscurity until Luthor's researchers rediscovered one of the ritual sites. Blood had been approached to actually work the ritual, which required multiple spellcasters working in concert at all ten of the rituals loci, scattered from the depths of the seafloor to the surface of the moon. It would be a massive endeavor that needed to be conducted at the summer solstice, but one Blood saw opportunity in.

Sebastian didn’t share Luthor’s personal vendetta for the Kryptonians, the obvious target of this scheme. They were as irksome as any of the other capes who interfered with his church’s mission, but flinging them back to the shattered asteroid field that was once Krypton didn’t entice him enough to devote his resources like he had. Even if the Kryptonians, Martians and Thanagarians were expelled, the Justice League and those infernal Titans would still be threats to his crusade. 

However, he had discovered that with comparatively minor tweaking, the whole ritual could be reversed. Instead of sending many foreign beings to their point of origin, it could be inverted to instead summon many things to a singular point, and that was something Sebastian was very interested in. 

Sebastian, like the seven Brother Bloods before him, was ultimately a servant of Trigon, the supreme being. He was the ultimate source of their power, and creating a means for their master to pass from his dimension to theirs had been the longtime goal of the cult. It was a goal that had actually nearly come to fruition without their direct involvement some years ago, when Trigon’s daughter, the Azarathian Raven, had become corrupted enough to serve as a gateway, but lamentably he had been stopped by the girl’s allies, the Titans, before he could fully manifest his power.

That defeat had shattered Trigon into many pieces, but not killed him, for Trigon was eternal. Even now the scraps of his essence were slowly coalescing within the nether realm to reform and rise again. However Blood, the demon’s most faithful servant, planned to greatly accelerate the process by repurposing Luthor’s ritual to instead gather every disparate piece of Trigon back together and allow their master to finally claim Earth.

Not only would their great lord be restored, they would be able to bypass that intransigent whelp Raven who spurned her birthright. All they need do was alter a few lines on the main magic circle; however it was there they hit a snag. The magic they were attempting to alter was originally laid down by Doctor Fate, the vessel of Nabu, a Lord of Order, and, while any magician of sufficient power and knowledge could activate it, only another Lord of Order’s magic could be used to alter the spell’s parameters. 

This was why Dark Opal’s offer had been so enticing. The sorcerer tyrant of Gemworld had contacted Blood and let slip a particularly tantalizing bit of information, the lost heiress of the house of Amethyst had been sent to earth over a decade ago. The first Amethyst was a Lord of Order himself, and while his descendent wouldn’t be a full lord herself, her blood still bore a connection to his magic. If Blood had managed to capture the girl it would have been a mutually beneficial development for him and Opal; he could sacrifice the girl to make the necessary alterations to the ritual, which would also eliminate any chance of her returning to Gemworld to challenge Opal. Unfortunately that hope was dashed now; she’d either be killed by Opal or slay him and take Gemworld’s throne for herself, either way it was unlikely she’d return to earth. 

There were other potential sacrifices with the necessary connection, such as Dove or one of the Marvels, but all would be harder to secure, and nearly impossible to take without alerting the Justice League to their movements. In the last decades, the Church of Blood had put much effort into pivoting their outward image into one more palatable to the masses, and it would be a foolish move to invite scrutiny from Earth’s so called heroes unless their final victory was assured. Whichever sacrifice they chose, it might be best to acquire them with an outside operator that kept their own hands clean.

“What is your will, my lord?” Mother Mayhem rasped behind him.

Blood folded his hands behind his back weighing his options before saying, “Contact H.I.V.E and see what operatives they have available for a hostile acquisition.” He paused for a moment, before adding, “and begin preparations to contract the Czarnian.”

As unbearably crass as he was, the main man got results. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Bat Cave, The Following Afternoon

Marinette had always been one of those rare kids who genuinely enjoyed school. Call her a nerd, (and many of her former classmates certainly had), but learning was fun. Her placement with the Dupain-Chengs had never been wonderful, but the absolute best part of it had been being able to attend the nicer schools in their neighborhood. Mari always devoured new information, and getting access to nicer facilities, advanced placement classes, and the school’s library had been wonderful. All that was to say, she’d been genuinely devastated to be expelled from College Francois Dupont, and all the more so when going on the run meant she had to abandon formal schooling entirely.

Chloe had helped her the best she could, lending her textbooks and letting Marinette see her notes, but it couldn’t really replace being in class herself. Mari knew the defense of Paris had come first, but her education may have been one of the roughest sacrifices she had to make for it.

In light of that, she was eager to resume schooling in her new home, but also rather nervous about it. She was worried her six month gap would result in her repeating a year, that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with lessons given in English, that she’d end up with another classmate like Lila and just generally worried about being the awkward new kid again. 

Luckily, the first of her worries had steadily dissipated over the last month. Apparently her new family was somewhat accustomed to dealing with lapses in education. Carrie and Jason had both had gaps in their schooling before being adopted into the family, and Cassandra had never stepped foot in a conventional classroom until she was brought home to the Waynes. Bruce and Selina literally had tutors on speed dial and between working with them, differences between the French and New Jersey curriculums, and Mari’s own self study, it looked like she’d be able to join Damian’s grade when school resumed in a few weeks. She’d be attending Gotham Academy, alongside Damian, Duke, Harper, Sandra, Stephanie, Tim, Bette, and Cass. 

However, while she still met with those tutors three times a week, there was another sort of lesson that was fast becoming her favorite. For lack of a better term, she’d basically been enrolled in Bat-school, alternatively taking lessons from the older members of the family in all the skills she’d need as a vigilante. Lockpicking, hacking, sleight of hand, forensics, deductive reasoning, and more were on her new syllabus, and as much as she enjoyed conventional school, this was on a whole other level. 

These lessons typically took place in the cave, and she was usually taught alongside Harper, and Carrie, with Tim, Cass, Sandra, Duke, Damian and Steph occasionally sitting in depending on the lesson. (The latter 6 had already completed most of the lessons, but review was always helpful.) It had been a bit disheartening to start off so behind in several disciplines compared to Harper, and especially Carrie given the age gap, but Marinette was determined to meet the challenge. 

Today the trio of sisters were being taught not by Bruce, Selina, Kate or even Diana, but rather by Alfred. Somehow, despite dressing as the picture perfect Edwardian servant, the butler managed to look perfectly at home in the Batcave as he supervised their training. Although, ‘Alfred is so unflappable he’d probably seem perfectly at ease wherever he was,’ Marinette mused. 

Initially she’d been a bit wary of the older gentleman, but over time Mari had really warmed up to the family butler. He had a couple of strong opinions on things like cleanliness and cuisine, bemoaning everytime he found a carton of Chinese takeout hidden in the cave, but overall he was a very kind man. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to having a butler, but like most things with the Waynes, she was adjusting surprisingly quickly.

That said, it had been almost a relief to discover she actually had chores in Wayne Manor. After years of a full schedule of working at the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery, she got antsy when there wasn’t anything to do. Her chores in the Wayne household were a lot lighter, taking a turn walking the dogs, taking out the trash, cleaning up the cave and so on, but it was nice to feel like she was pulling her weight. Honestly the hardest part of chores in her new home was deciphering the complex schedule that divvied the tasks between all the siblings. 

The grey haired butler still did a lot for the family but he couldn’t do everything. Despite his nearly inhuman efficiency, Alfred was at the end of the day one man serving a family of over a dozen. It was simply untenable for him to actually do all the cleaning, cooking, maintenance and other duties for that many people, in the way he had when it was just him and a younger Bruce in a very lonely house. Really, Wayne Manor should have a full staff of servants, maids, a full time cook, a gardener etc, but instead there was only Alfred.

The whole servants quarter, intended for live-in staff of the manor, had been largely empty since Bruce was born. The dwindling number of Waynes (Thomas Wayne, like Bruce after him, was an only child,) in the 20th century, as well as changing social norms had led to only a cook, two maids and a singular butler, Alfred’s father Jarvis Pennyworth, being employed by the family by the time Thomas Wayne inherited. Alfred would eventually take his father’s place, due to a combination of his friendship with Thomas, a lack of direction following his discharge from the SAS, and some sense of filial piety, but the other three positions would one by one become vacant as well. Thomas and Martha had discussed hiring more full-time staff, but it never came to be before their untimely deaths, and for years it had been Bruce and Alfred alone in the manor. 

With the Wayne family ballooning in numbers again, many might expect Bruce and Selina to bring on more staff to assist Alfred, but of course that was impossible due to the Bat-Elephant in the room. Anyone living in the manor had to be someone the family trusted implicitly who also wanted to work as a domestic servant; really the only person in that venn diagram besides Alfred was his niece Julia, and she already held a similar position as the housekeeper of the Kane Estate. 

That wasn’t to say the Waynes never hired additional staff to help with the upkeep of the manor, but they hired far less than their peers and only on a temporary basis. For instance, they had a highly vetted maid service that would routinely come in to assist with major cleaning, but they’d have to basically put the cave into lockdown and be on alert every time they did so. Similarly, extra security for galas, kitchen staff for dinner parties, and so on would be brought in, but only as little as was needed and under heavy scrutiny. (They’d actually stopped having to bring in external gardeners all together ever since Ivy’s sanity was restored, and coincidentally Selina kept winning gardening awards for rose beds she had no hand in maintaining.) 

Today’s Bat-Lesson had been unexpected to Mari, but she was quickly coming to understand its benefit. Among the myriad skills the Batfamily had, one might be forgiven for overlooking their artistry with makeup. However, it was in fact an essential area to master, which was why Mari, Harper and Carrie were practicing applying it to each other under the watchful eye of Alfred.

The discipline had multiple applications for them. Makeup artistry was important for creating convincing disguises, allowing the Bats to investigate incognito or infiltrate hostile strongholds. It was also helpful in keeping their secret identities, and not just because socialites were expected to have proficiency with lipstick and rouge. Being a vigilante, particularly a non powered one, came with its fair share of bumps, scrapes and scars; a mastery of concealer, illusion patches, and blending allowed Selina, for instance, to wear a backless dress that didn’t show the evidence of two gunshot wounds and a stabbing that it otherwise would have. 

“A bit more graduation in the tones, Madame Carrie,” Alfred intoned, “Madame Marinette’s complexion is a tad deeper than that.”  Carrie stuck her tongue out a bit in concentration as she applied a slightly thicker coat of powder to Marinette’s face. At the moment the sister’s were training their rapid application and removal, practicing quickly changing each other’s looks to be prepared to rapidly don or shed a disguise in the field.

Alfred’s past as a stage actor had come in handy, making this one of the skills he’d been able to teach Bruce personally when the boy first decided to become Batman, and later his children. While he wouldn’t leave for his training journey until he was 17, Bruce had started actively trying to acquire the skills he would need to be Batman much earlier, studying things like forensics, chemistry, and so on while still a boy in Gotham. Alfred’s charge had been a frightfully intelligent child, and if he’d devoted himself to his school’s actual curriculum with the same fervor he had for his personal training diet, Alfred suspected he could have graduated more than the year early he already had. 

Bruce studied under many masters of myriad disciplines in preparation for his crusade, but his first teacher was Alfred. One might not expect a humble butler to possess many of the skills his young charge was looking to learn, but before entering the Wayne’s service Alfred Pennyworth had been both an actor and a soldier and retained his training from both professions. The boy who would be Batman’s first lessons in deceit, stealth, field medicine, marksmanship, radio operation, and more had been taught by his unflappable English guardian. 

It might seem odd that a man like Alfred would choose to become a butler at all in the modern era, and indeed it hadn’t been something he’d planned on despite the Pennyworths’ long tradition in the role. For generations the Pennyworths had been servants to the Morice family, hereditary lords of a large estate in Wiltshire where Alfred spent the first half of his childhood. Indeed, Jarvis was so traditional, such the epitome of the loyal butler, that Alfred had been shocked when Jarvis agreed to take the visiting Patrick Wayne’s offer of employment in America.

Not that Alfred, just a boy at the time, had objected. He’d never cared much for the Morice family, and ended up quite liking Wayne Manor once he got used to it. Alfred had become fast friends with young Thomas Wayne despite the class divide, and maintained that friendship into adulthood. 

Eventually Alfred had left Wayne Manor, rejecting his father’s desire to have him follow in the family tradition. He’d returned to Britain, served in the armed forces for a time, and eventually pursued his youthful dream of acting. Unfortunately, despite a real passion for the craft, he’d never broken out or become that successful, working intermittently with touring Shakespeare companies, but largely living off his diminishing savings from his time in the military.

That, combined with his ailing father’s health, had compelled Alfred to return to Wayne Manor. By that time, his old friend Thomas had inherited, married Martha, and had the young Bruce; Alfred had taken a position on what was supposed to be a purely temporary basis, both to convince his father to finally retire, and to replenish his accounts. Despite himself, his father’s lessons had sunk in, and Alfred was an excellent butler, quickly proving indispensable to the young Wayne family, and found himself enjoying living and working at Wayne Manor again. Still, he probably would have left eventually if it were not for the tragedy in crime alley, and the unexpected revelation that his old friend had one final request of Alfred, raising Bruce.

Alfred clapped his white gloved hands, “time’s up!” The butler took a moment to examine Mari’s face while Carrie nervously waited. Mari had been made up in what would be her ‘Nettie’ look, for when she wanted to be recognized as Marinette Wayne. With lavender lipstick, blush, a smokey eye look, some mascara and a little concealer under the eyes, Marinette had a far more glamorous look than she’d ever worn back in Paris.  It wasn’t quite as extensive as what she’d wear to an actual Gala, but for a quick application it was a good job.

“Good work, Miss Carrie,” Alfred complimented, making the young redhead smile triumphantly. He turned to examine Harper, who had done her own makeup, similar to Mari’s, but with electric blue lipstick and eyeshadow, and a slightly bolder look. The older girl had the most experience of the three with this particular skill, and had moved on to self-applying without the benefit of a mirror. “Close, Miss Harper, but you’re slightly outside the lines with your lipstick on the left side.” Harper frowned a little but nodded, picking up a mirror to see where she’d made her mistake; a lot of this simply came down to building muscle memory, so she’d just need a bit more practice.

“We’ll do one more set today, and then break for tea,” Alfred announced. He pulled out a stop watch and said, “now, let’s see how fast you can remove that.” Mari and Harper swiftly grabbed for the makeup remover wipes and flew into action.

—-----------

Upstairs, Steph’s Room

Given who their mother was, it wasn’t surprising that the Wayne siblings were a family of ailurophiles. They were the sponsors of many no-kill shelters around the city, had a habit of keeping treats for strays tucked in their utility belts, and of course collectively had four pet furballs at the manor. That wasn’t to say they liked their feline companions exclusively, as evidenced by them also keeping dogs, horses, a tortoise, and a cow as pets/parts of Damian’s ever growing menagerie. It was just that cats held a special place in the hearts of all the Wayne kids, demonstrated in the moment by the fact that even while she was engrossed in the book she was studying, Stephanie’s other hand was occupied stroking Mittens, who was currently curled up contentedly on her lap.

Despite it being summer vacation, Stephanie was doing a bit of cramming. Her subject today was anatomy, and she was working her way through a dog eared copy of Gray’s Anatomy, (the textbook not the soap opera), making notes as she went. Medicine was a frequent subject of her self study not only due to her dream of becoming a doctor, but also because she wanted to be the best possible field medic for her family that she could.

Of course that was far from the only topic on her docket; all of the Bat’s trained consistently to keep their skills up, but Steph tended to go the extra mile. With both her vigilante skills and her academic subjects, she really threw herself into her studies, reviewing what she’d already learned, or pestering her folks and older siblings to teach her something new. ‘ I may not be that talented but I can make up the difference through diligence and focus,’ Stephanie told herself as she stretched her arms and let out a yawn.

Don’t get her wrong, Steph knew she was decently intelligent, but she wasn’t a genius like Tim, Harper or Barbara, or a natural born fighter like Jason, Cass or Damian. Her siblings were all prodigies in one manner or another, and that was even touching on how incredibly talented her mom and dad were. Those facts didn’t make Stephanie jealous, (she was incredibly proud of her sibling’s achievements and happy to see them flourish), but it did make her worry about keeping pace. So, she had realized fairly early on there was one way she could compensate, and that was to work harder and longer to make up the difference. She was planning to put in at least another hour hitting the books before dinner, when a knock on her door frame interrupted her.

Bruce had felt exhausted as he arrived back at the manor from his morning excursion; he’d been unfortunately roped into playing a round of golf with Jay Davenport and Bruce hated golf. It was mind numbingly tedious, took up time he’d rather spend doing a hundred other things, and tended to be played at an early hour when he’d much rather be at home, sleeping off the previous night’s patrol. That was before you got into how terribly inefficient the courses were in terms of land and water use; at least most of Gotham’s were outside of the city proper, in Coast City they had a veritable stranglehold on the limited amount of greenspace in that municipality. 

Unfortunately, playing golf, at least somewhat, was very much the expectation for someone in Bruce’s tax bracket, and if he wanted to keep ‘being at a faraway golf course’ in his rotation of excuses for where Bruce Wayne was during a Bat-Crisis, he needed to at least occasionally be seen playing a round or two. 

Still, despite his exhaustion, Bruce resisted the urge to make a beeline for his bed and had instead set his feet walking towards his daughter’s room. “You have a moment?” Bruce asked.

Steph leaned back from her desk and stretched again, the movement disturbing Mittens enough for the cat to scamper off. “Sure thing, dad. You need help with something?”

Bruce stood awkwardly for a moment, before deciding to sit on Steph’s bed, to be on the same level with her. He leaned forward, his hands steepled, “no, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okaaaay?” Stephanie responded as she swiveled her chase to face him. “You’re being weirdly serious about this, what’s up?” Her dad could speak a bit formally sometimes, but he usually wasn’t nearly this awkward. 

Bruce took a glance at the stack of books on Steph’s desk and suppressed a little sigh. The Dark Knight saw something of himself in all of his kids, but in some ways he felt Stephanie was the most similar to him. While the rest of the Bats all had their specialties, Bruce strove to be the master of every skill in their repertoire and Stephanie was the same way; the father and daughter had a shared drive when it came to their goals that was hard to match. 

The Justice League were gods among men, and in order to stand alongside them, Bruce had to keep up the insane effort perfecting his skills required, and while all his kids trained extensively, Steph seemed to have a similar mindset to Bruce. Of course, Bruce knew all too well that that singular dedication could be a double edge sword, leading you to neglect things outside of the cowl, and he worried of his brilliant daughter emulating him a little too much, which brought him to her door today. “You’ve been doubling up on patrols,” Bruce began bluntly. 

Steph raised an eyebrow, “yeah? It’s summer; I’m just trying to make good use of my time before school starts. Are you benching me?” 

“No, “ Bruce said flatly, “but I’m a bit worried you’ve been focusing on being Batgirl in order to avoid spending time as Stephanie.” A younger Bruce would have been shocked to see him arguing for the importance of a personal life, but today he was firmly of the opinion that his family shouldn’t let their nightlife completely take over.

Stephanie gave him a confused look, “I mean, not really? I guess I’ve been working hard lately, but I’m still making time to relax. I went swimming with Mari and Duke yesterday, and just last weekend Jason and I went with Harper to that sci-fi convention.” Those were just examples off the top of her head, but she really didn’t think she’d been that much of a workaholic lately.

“I know you’ve been spending time with the family,” Bruce replied slowly, “but it’s been awhile since you’ve spent any time with your friends.”

“I mean, Rose is on that backpacking trip, Tam’s at camp, and Bunny’s in Europe,” Stephanie said with a shrug. While Stephie Wayne had a much larger circle of friends, Rose, Tamara and Bunny were her closest school friends and the only three she really wanted to hang out with for reasons other than maintaining her ditzy heiress reputation, and she didn’t think her dad was talking about that. 

Bruce nodded, “you could still spend some time at Mount Justice, see your friends there.”

The blonde crossed her arms and leant back; it was a simple truth that, excluding family, she actually had more close friends as Batgirl than she did as Stephanie, and very few of them were clued in to her secret identity. There were the Supers of course, but Kon was closer with Tim, and while Steph really liked Kara, she inevitably felt like a bit of a third wheel tagging along with her and Cass. Other than that it was only Impulse and Miss Martian on the team who she could hang out with as Steph, and they were grounded and at summer camp, respectively. 

Of course that left going to Mount Justice to hang with her teammates as Batgirl, but she’d been avoiding that like the plague, something her dad had evidently picked up on. “I decided to take a leave of absence so I could help Mari adjust.”

Bruce gave her a flat look, “which was very nice of you, but Mari’s been here since May, and not going on missions doesn’t mean not spending any downtime bonding with your teammates.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes, “like you hang around the JL Satellite rec room all the time.”

Her dad smirked ever so slightly, “yes, but unlike me, I do believe you like most of your teammates.” Bruce was actually close friends with several of his Justice League peers, Clark, Zatanna and J’onn for instance, but due to the organization’s status as a big tent, his relationship with most of the members was closer to that of work colleagues. 

The younger Wayne smiled a bit at the quip before asking “is that seriously what you’re worried about though? That me and Speedy aren’t spending enough quality time?”

Bruce let out a sigh before deciding to just rip off the bandaid, “I’m worried you're still hurting from your break up with Blue Beetle and I want you to know you can talk to me about it. I know some of the family rules regarding secret identities played a part in it, and understand if that is frustrating for you.” The rules were very much there for a reason, but, while they might not convince him to change his mind, he always wanted his kids to feel like they could come to him with disagreements.

Steph snorted, “Oh that. Dad, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill here.”

Bruce’s brows furrowed in thought, “am I?” He was worried Stephanie was just deflecting.

“And I’m not just deflecting,” Steph added, seemingly reading his mind. “I’m really not that broken up about it. We only kind of dated for like a month and a half, and most of that was him awkwardly flirting during missions.” There’d also been a handful of light makeout sessions in a hidden corner of Mount Justice, but she chose not to mention that to her dad at the moment.

“Right, and was that a contributing factor to why things didn’t work out? You only associating under the mask?” Bruce asked.

Steph rolled her eyes at how deliberate her Dad was when trying to talk about romance. She seriously had no clue how he’d managed to snag her mom. “A bit,” she responded, “but not really. I wasn’t comfortable sharing my secret identity with him and he was really pushy about it, sure. But I don’t think it was really going to last even without that.” Stephanie liked Jaime well enough as a friend, and had been willing to explore that growing into something more, but she didn’t really feel any sort of spark. 

“But you seemed rather upset after you broke up,” Bruce said with a frown. Stephanie had actually done a rather good job of covering her distress, but her dad was equally good at reading her.

“I was upset because he was a jerk about me ending things, and I’m stressed about it making things awkward with the team,” Steph explained with a sigh, “not because I’m keeping a light lit for Blue Beetle.” She fiddled with her pencil anxiously for a moment, “I know I shouldn’t avoid the team just to avoid him, but I just wanted to give things some time to breathe. I was planning to go in a few weeks anyway when we’re introducing Bluebird and Lady Noire to the team.”

“Oh, good,” Bruce said after a moment. “When you do go back, if Beetle makes trouble, be sure to inform me, I’ll handle it.” Batman’s fearsome reputation had unexpected benefits when it came to intimidating his kid’s romantic partners, or in this case ex romantic partners. He looked Stephanie in the eyes, “You know when things do get serious with someone, you can come to me, right? I know you know how important our identities are, but I can be flexible on some rules.”

“Jeez, Dad, I know,” Steph said sarcastically, though inside she was rather touched, getting up to pull him into a hug. Even if her dad was terribly awkward, and occasionally bad at expressing himself, she never had to doubt how much he cared about her. Arthur Brown may have unfortunately contributed to her DNA, but Bruce Wayne was her father.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gotham University, Sprang Lecture Hall, Late August

Ten minutes before the lecture was due to start, the students in the soon to begin Comparative Victorian Literature class were steadily filing in. Sitting in the back row was a bespectacled girl with long dark hair, wearing a shapeless black hoodie and a pair of jeans. There wasn’t anything remarkable about the girl on the surface, someone easily lost in the crowd, but even as she sat waiting for class to begin, Alexis Kaye was fantasizing about her scheme that would soon change all that.

It was going to be perfect. She’d shed her boring conformist exterior and begin to bring about real change, destroy the broken system and return the world to its natural state of anarchy. She just needed to bide her time and avoid getting on anyone’s radar, until Lex Luthor could deliver the tools she needed to make her dreams come true.

She’d initially had a plan of her own, but when Luthor surprisingly contacted her with his offer, it had been too good to pass up. Alexis still didn’t know exactly how the CEO had caught wind of her goals, but as unnerving as that was, the bald bastard’s aid could let her accomplish something she’d thought impossible.

Alexis resented working with Luthor, a man so emblematic of the corrupt phony society she planned to destroy in her quest to deliver the world unto utopic anarchy. She’d put up with it though. Those little artifacts were seed money to get her criminal startup going; they were about to disrupt and take over shit and then Luthor would lick her boot.  

She was distracted from her fantasies by a broad shouldered dark haired young man slid into her field of vision. ‘ Ugh, Jason Wayne,’ Alexis groused as her classmate sat down in the row in front of her. She hated that little dipshit for so MANY reasons. Not only was he a spoiled rich kid, but his so-called tragedy had been used as part of the justification for demonizing ‘him’, the messiah who had tried to raise the consciousness of this garbage pile of a city. Joker.

As insane as it might sound, the Joker actually had fans, and Alexis was among the most die hard. Perhaps due to him being dead for over five years and no longer an active threat, a small, mostly online subculture had emerged that almost worshiped the clown. They ranged from conspiracy theorists who argued the laughing madman had somehow been framed for his many crimes, to budding criminals looking to associate themselves with the feared name, to those who just wanted to laugh while the world burned. 

As for Alexis, she saw Joker as the paragon of change, the very avatar of rebellion. She’d watched clips of him a thousand times, and knew he’d been nearly perfect. He’d just picked the wrong partner. Alexis could have been so much better as Harley Quinn than that bimbo Arkham doctor he’d been forced to settle for. She understood him. With someone worthy by his side, they’d never have been able to stop him.

As the lecture began, she pushed her thoughts and dreams into a little box, forcing herself to shift back into the mode of being just a random regular undergrad. She could be patient. She would be patient. She’d bide her time until everything was in place,

For her Revolution.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gemworld, Mountains of Garnet

Scattered over the rocky terrain of the mountain pass leading from the lands of Garnet into western Sardonyx were the encampments of the rebellion. Thousands of cold and tired troops huddled for warmth in their tents as they waited for the night to pass; no fires were lit out of fear of alerting the spies of Dark Opal which flew through the sky when the sun had set, especially this close to the tyrant’s territory. Though the forces of Garnet had been connected with the larger southern rebellion, surprise would still be of vital importance in their mission; they needed to reach and take Opal’s capitol while the bulk of his vassals’ forces were still searching the Amethyst lands.  

On an overturned log at the outskirts of the camp sat the girl the entire rebellion nominally centered around, Amaya of House Amethyst, or as she still thought of herself, Chloe. The girl shivered as she stared up at the strange artificial moon that circled Gemworld, which, like its solar counterpart, was intended to make this piece of the Realm of Chaos a bit more like the Earth its people had left in ages past. As wondrous as Gemworld was, with the magic that thrummed throughout it, the prodigal princess couldn’t help but feel a longing for her people’s forgotten homeland.

Chloe was increasingly looking like a natural resident of this land, clad now in the impossibly fine purple chainmail dress, golden diadem and regnal cape that were apparently her birthright. Even her hair had shifted as she began to develop her powers, shifting to a brilliant violet hue that matched her eyes and the magic that literally sprung from her fingertips. Day by day she was becoming the Princess Amethyst all her new friends and followers saw her as, but on a cold night like this, she felt very much like just Chloe, so very far from home. 

The sound of footfalls coming from behind her caused her to snap to attention until she saw it was only Zatanna. Months and months of warfare had taken the jumpiness that came from constant Akuma attacks, and turned them into proper combat reflexes. The dark haired woman gave her a slight smile as she approached. 

“Peek Reh Mraw,” Zatanna muttered, taking a seat on the log beside Chloe. The blonde instantly felt some of the chill in her bones retreat and she gave the elder witch an appreciative nod. The heroine had become a surprising comfort to Chloe in the months since she joined their band; it was nice to have someone else from Earth to relate to and a comfort to know her absence had been missed. Well, missed by some. Zee didn’t say it out right but Chloe quickly gathered her father hadn’t been the one to ring the alarm, which depressed her a bit, even if the knowledge Marinette had been looking out for her from across an ocean brought some measure of solace. 

Still, despite that tidbit of disappointing news, Chloe found herself liking the raven haired magician. Okay, she really liked Zatanna, not that she’d be so gauche as to admit it to the older sorceress. As first impressions go, saving her life had made a rather good one. She’d also been admittedly surprised when Zee elected to remain in Gemworld and support Chloe until Dark Opal was defeated, lending both her own powerful magic and experience to their side. Chloe felt she had a responsibility to Gemworld, (her birth family was tied to the land and the members of the rebellion had fast become her friends), but Zatanna was willingly putting her life on hold, not to mention risking it, just to help Chloe. It was something the erstwhile blonde wasn’t going to forget.

The two sat together in companionable silence for a time, listening to the distant sounds of crystal wolves howling in the night. It was evident the older woman wasn’t going to pry about what had kept Chloe away from her bedroll that evening, but, unusually, the purple haired girl was in a sharing mood. As the moon reached its zenith above them she quietly said, “we’re getting close to the endgame now.” 

Zatanna fiddled with the top hat that seemed to habitually appear in her hands or on her head whenever she wanted it. “Lady Emerald does seem pretty confident we’re going to be able to catch Opal with his pants down,” Zatanna agreed with a nod, “feeling nervous?”

“Of course not,” Chloe declared, though not that convincingly. When Zatanna raised an eyebrow at her she deflated a bit and said, “well, perhaps just a little bit, but don’t tell the soldiers that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Zatanna replied with a wink. “Still, I imagine you’ll be happy to have this thing finished.”

Chloe laughed bitterly, “not entirely, at least right now I know what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be homeless when I get back to Earth.” If Andre Bourgeois hadn’t been indicted for corruption charges by the time she got back to Earth she’d be shocked, given the way the winds seemed to be blowing in the wake of Hawkmoth’s defeat. Then again, she wasn’t sure he’d want her back in any event; finding out she was adopted pretty much for PR reasons did a lot to make her doubt the man. 

“Well, if everything goes to plan, you could certainly stay here,” Zatanna reasoned. She waved her hand back towards the camp, “I know there's a lot of people who’d be happy to see you living in Castle Amethyst after Opal is defeated.”

Chloe shook her head, “I like Gemworld but there’s someone back on earth I can’t live without.” There was a beat where she realized what she said and then blushed, stammering, “er, I mean somethings. Yes there are some things back on Earth I simply can’t live without like, uh, the food or the music. Yep yep yep, definitely can’t live without listening to that new Jagged Stone album!”

Zatanna couldn’t help chuckling a bit at the slip, but waved Chloe off when it looked like the girl was getting angry. “Hey, no need to worry, Princess. I’ll keep it between us; though, for what it’s worth, I think she misses you too.”

“You think so?” Princess Amethyst asked tentatively after a moment, feeling a bit vulnerable but wanting to know despite that.

“Well, obviously,” Zee replied matter of factly, “I already told you how crazy concerned she was for you when I talked to her, and how hard she tried to come along. Seriously, I half expected to find her curled up at the bottom of my pack when I set out.”

Chloe tucked a strand of purple hair back behind her ear, “sure, but she’s a hero. She’s always looking out for everyone’s safety. I’m sure being in Gotham hasn’t stopped her from thinking the health and well being of every person in Paris is like her personal responsibility, the dummy.” The last remark was half whispered with an obvious fondness that took any bite out of the insult. Still, Mari was so stupidly selfless that Chloe was pretty sure she’d leap into a volcano to rescue someone even if it was Lila. 

Zatanna gave her a skeptical look, “yeah, this wasn’t that. I work with a lot of heroes and I can tell the difference between professional responsibility and when something’s personal. She looked ready to leap through the screen and claw my eyes out if Bruce and Selina didn’t hold her back.”

“How is she, with them, I mean?” Chloe asked, suddenly shifting topics. “That is to say, do you know if she’s settled in okay with uh, with the Waynes?” They’d talked it through and figured it was the best option for Marinette but Chloe had still been worried about her friend going to live with Bruce. Mari didn’t talk about it much, but it didn’t take long into their friendship for Chloe to figure out things weren’t great with her foster parents long before the expulsion and eviction. So, while the bar was pretty low, she was hoping Mari had managed to land on her feet this time.

The magician gave her a slightly confused look, “She’s doing great as far as I know.” Zatanna had really only interacted with Marinette under the strained circumstances of planning Chloe’s rescue, but she knew Bruce and Selina quite well and knew they’d go to the moon and back for any of their kids. That, and, before Zatanna left for Gemworld, Selina kept texting their group chat all excited for every little milestone her newest daughter had, like her first piece of Gotham pizza or the bluenette getting her hair braided by Cassandra. 

“Good, that’s good,” Chloe muttered nodding slightly. She was still concerned for Mari, but it was comforting to hear she was at least outwardly doing okay back on Earth. The trouble was that Marinette had a bad tendency to downplay when things were bad and put a brave face on her circumstances. She wouldn’t really feel okay until she could finally get back to earth and check on her friend herself. 

“I understand you’re worried,” Zatanna said, “but she really is okay. Selina and Bruce are some of the best people I know, and she’s got a whole host of new siblings to keep her company.” Zee understood Chloe’s fears for her friend, but the young Amethyst needed to keep her focus in the here and now for the moment. Zatanna knew, despite Lady Turquoise’s confidence, the final fight with Opal was going to be incredibly difficult, and unfortunately Chloe was going to be right in the middle of it. “Besides, Marinette seems like a very capable girl, I’m sure she has everything well in hand back home.”

It was unbecoming of her but Chloe literally guffawed at that. “Mari’s my favorite, but trust me, she’ll absolutely let her personal life go to shit if it means doing her duty as Lady Noire.” It had been one of the few ongoing points of contention between the pair back in Paris. Mari was far too willing to sacrifice her own wellbeing if it meant protecting others. While the situation with Lila and later her foster parents absolutely wasn’t Marinette’s fault, she’d been the one to make the decision to go on the run and abandon her civilian life almost entirely in order to keep fighting as Lady Noire. Chloe sniffed to herself, “she needs someone to look after her.”

Zatanna put a comforting hand on Chloe’s shoulder, “well then let’s focus on getting you back to her as soon as we can by finishing things with Opal.”

Resolve flared in Chloe’s eyes and she nodded, before sighing again and chuckling somewhat sadly, “she’ll still be an ocean away. I’m glad the Waynes took her in and she’s doing well, but…”  she trailed off. 

The raven haired sorceress bit her lip in hesitation as she thought about Chloe’s predicament. There were a couple of ways she could think to help; she could petition the league to allow Chloe and Marinette regular zeta access, set the pair up with her old magical communication mirror so they wouldn’t have to worry about international phone rates (then again, it wasn’t like money would be an issue for Mari), and so on. However, none of that seemed exactly right to Zatanna. 

As unfortunate as the situation with Mayor Bourgeois was, Chloe was likely not going to be going back to her old home. This wasn’t just about Chloe being separated from her best friend/obvious crush. The displaced Parisian might be right about Mari needing someone to look after her, but Lady Noire already had that in spades with the Waynes. No, Amethyst needed someone to look after her, and well, Shadowcrest would be rather lonely with Zatanna living in it all alone. “Well you know, if you don’t want to stay here in Gemworld, you could always come live with me in Gotham.”

Chloe blinked like a dazed owl in confusion before exclaiming, “wait, what!?” She must have misheard the older woman because it sounded like Zatanna had just offered to foster her. 

Zatanna gave a little self-deprecating shrug, a bit uncertain of herself, “hey, I may not have much experience with kids besides Traci and babysitting for Selina, but I think the two of us get along pretty well.” She looked Chloe in the eyes, warm cyan matching anxious amethyst, “seriously, Chloe, we’d have to work out the paperwork and figure out the particulars, but I’d be more than happy to have you stay with me.” She gave the still stupefied girl a playful nudge, “besides, after saving your bacon a half dozen times, I’ve gotten a little attached.”

The purple haired girl was incredibly touched, but also relatively uncomfortable with showing it, so instead of responding directly to the generous offer, she latched onto a different question, asking, “who’s Traci?”

Now it was Zee’s turn to blink in surprise, but after a moment she answered, “uh, Traci Thirteen, she’s kinda-sorta my apprentice. I help her with her magic from time to time.” 

Chloe arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms, “What do you mean she’s just kind-of your apprentice?” She wasn’t sure exactly why she was feeling protective of this other girl she’d never met. Maybe she just felt a certain amount of kinship for another young woman suddenly having to deal with magical powers, or maybe she was worried that if Zatanna dropped Traci, she might drop Chloe just as easily down the line. Not that she needed the older sorceress or anything. 

Zatanna sighed. She had a great deal of affection for her sort-of kind-of apprentice, but her relationship with the Thirteen family was complicated. She got along very well with Traci, and would have happily formalized the teen’s apprenticeship, if it weren’t for the obstacle that was Traci’s father, Terrence Thirteen.

Doctor Thirteen was a very singular figure. The self professed investigator of the occult, considered himself the ultimate skeptic and to his credit, he did have an extensive history of debunking phony supernatural scams. Unfortunately for him, Terrence existed in a world where magic was real, as evidenced by the fact Zatanna and Chloe were two Homo Magi sitting and talking in a magical dimension for instance, and he had a hard time reconciling that fact.

Indeed, rather than the usual sense of wonder, Doctor Thirteen’s response to finding out magic was real could best be described as severe annoyance and a healthy dollop of denial. That naturally put a certain strain on his relationship with his daughter, the witch.

‘ And it means he doesn’t like me much, either,’ Zatanna reflected before focusing on Chloe. The parisian princess didn’t need to worry about the Thirteen situation while she was already bearing the burden of trying to overthrow a mad tyrant. Zee decided to just give a basic overview, “her father is less than enthusiastic about her training.” After a pause she added, “he’s also not too keen on me.”

“Why doesn’t he like you?” Chloe inquired. She hadn’t known the woman long, but she found it hard to envision not liking Zatanna, and Chloe hardly liked anyone not named Marinette. 

Zee gave a wry smile, “well apart from the whole being a sorceress thing, we went on a blind date a decade ago and he wasn’t exactly happy there wasn’t a second.” The pair shared a little laugh before Zatanna continued, “I was good friends with Traci’s mom before she died so I try to look out for her where I can, but obviously I have to respect her present guardian, her father’s boundaries, so we don’t see each other as often as I’d like.” Traci had lived with her mother when she was little and only began living with her dad after her mother’s death.

“Yeah, fathers can be complicated…” Chloe muttered.

Zatanna smiled gently, “now, as much as I like Traci, I feel like we’re kind of getting off topic. I’d be happy to have you come live with me, if that’s what you want. There’s no pressure and I understand if you’d rather stay in Paris; I’ll promise you that the League will help make sure you get a safe and secure placement whichever way you decide to go.” She patted Chloe softly on the arm as she rose to her feet, “now c’mon, we need to get some sleep before the march tomorrow.”

A thoughtful expression on her face, Chloe rose to follow Zatanna back towards the tents. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Manor, September 1st, Gala Start

It was well known that the Waynes valued their privacy, which made the sight that evening of the Manor absolutely buzzing with activity a rarity. It was the night of the Wayne Autumnal Gala, when the Manor, or at least part of it, was flung open to the socialites of Gotham for one of the biggest society events of the season. 

Cars were lined up down the long drive, dropping off their occupants in a choreographed dance. There were no press allowed on the property, but in the distance one could see a cluster or paparazzi at the gates, trying to snap a picture through the tinted windows of the invited guests. The Wayne household staff absolutely ballooned from one to over one hundred on a night like this, and a combination of security, ushers and valets ensured the arrivals ran like a well oiled machine.

The party itself would be held in the ballroom, a large chamber that took up much of the ground floor of the main hall. Stately Wayne Manor had been expanded and remodeled many times, and today consisted of three main sections. The eastern family wing, which was where the modern day Waynes actually lived, the western wing, which housed the mothballed servants quarters and quite a few odds and ends such as the indoor swimming pool, and the oldest part of the manor, the main hall, which held the grand entryway, ballroom, the main library and formal dining room.

In a steady stream, the well heeled set of Gotham flowed through the ornate front doors and towards the ballroom. The well appointed room was outfitted for a party, with a large central space for mingling, tables and chairs at the sides for private conversations, a stage in the corner, a fully outfitted bar and a door opening up onto the veranda that looked out across the back lawn.  The lively jazz of the live band filled the room, and dozens of hired servers darted about the large chamber bearing trays of food. Amidst all of it, awaiting their guests, were the Waynes of Gotham.

Tim and Duke were acting as something of unofficial ushers, lurking near the door and welcoming the arriving socialites into the party. Both brothers were sharply dressed in the tuxedos customary for this sort of affair, and like their entire family that evening, were ready to  put on another performance of their gala personas. Duke and “Timmy” tended to get a large amount of focus from the old money set, who, despite the fact Bruce was relatively young and healthy, constantly theorized on who would be the heir to Wayne Enterprises. 

Marinette was standing nervously with Damian and Carrie over by the band, watching as the hall slowly filled. She took a deep breath and put her game face on, adopting the mask of an unbothered socialite. Damian gave her a nod and Carrie a quick thumbs up, making her projected confidence that little bit more real. She took a moment to glance around the room to the other Waynes, reminding herself she wasn’t in this alone. 

While the shades varied, all of the Wayne women had arrived at the Gala wearing blue and gold, two of the family’s traditional colors. It was intended as a statement that Marinette was one of them, and it was certainly striking. For her part Marinette was incredibly touched by Selina and her sisters' show of solidarity with her, and had nearly ruined her makeup by tearing up when she saw them all getting ready.

Her own dress was teal with a queen anne neckline and a pleated skirt; a horizontal sash of yellow cinched at the waist, with the bow at the back. She was wearing low white heels, and a simple teardrop necklace of silver and amethyst. All together it was easily the nicest outfit Marintte had ever worn, even accounting for her new growing wardrobe of high end clothing. Her long midnight blue hair was delicately coiffed and Selina had personally helped her with her makeup. Nettie Wayne was ready to make her Gotham debut. 

‘Think Chloe, Think Chloe’ Mari repeated to herself as she glided into the ballroom, her head held high. Marinette was aware most of the eyes in the room were on her, surreptitiously or not, eager to see the newest Wayne in person, but she ignored it. She forced herself to walk like she owned the room, not betraying one iota of the anxiety running through her system. Nettie Wayne was born to this world and everything should seem natural for her. As far as everyone else was concerned, she was a perfect, noble ice princess.

There were more reasons for choosing to create the Nettie Wayne persona the way that she was, beyond her admiration for Chloe. For one, keeping people at a distance and being dismissive was intended to dissuade people from being too inquisitive about her past and private life. Frankly she didn’t want to think about her life with the Dupain Chengs, much less talk about it to strangers; so she’d decided to make Nettie an obvious aristocrat, distancing herself from her life before the Waynes. 

She was aiming for her cousin, Donna, who had just walked in with her boyfriend Wally, who looked as awkward as Marinette felt, intending to ease into things by talking with someone she at least somewhat knew. Besides, Donna looked radiant in her dark purple pleated jumpsuit and Mari wouldn’t mind getting to look at the garment up close. However, before she could reach them, a white tuxedoed boy around her own age slid in to intercept her.

“Enchanté, mademoiselle, I’m Bernard Davenport; allow me to be the first to welcome you to Gotham,” the auburn haired boy drawled. As he spoke he reached for Marinette’s hand and leaned in to kiss it in an over the top display of courtly manners. 

Marinette looked down her nose at the boy, attempting to appear imperious, and letting her lip curl into a slight sneer. “<Is it considered polite to touch a lady’s hand without permission on this side of the Atlantic? How disappointing.>” Marinette replied in French, guessing based on the boy’s dreadful pronunciation that he didn’t actually speak the language and using the moment to wrong foot him.

It seemed to be successful given the boy was doing an impression of a gaping fish at her words, causing an auburn haired girl in a white dress, who’d been following behind him, to giggle into her hand. Marinette raised an eyebrow to the girl, ignoring Bernard, “does this one belong to you?”

The still grinning girl fell into a curtsey and replied, “lamentably, this one is my brother. I’m Bridgette Davenport, delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Mari replied as snootily as possible, before adding, “as hilarious as your sibling’s butchering of the French language is, I’d like to greet my cousin before her boyfriend chokes on crab puffs.” With a final nod she stepped away to continue on towards Donna and Wally, who was indeed absolutely demolishing a platter of h’orderves. She wasn’t entirely opposed to forming a friendship with the siblings, but frankly, ice queen persona aside, her experiences with her old class made her a lot slower to reach out the hand of friendship than she used to be.

As she neared Donna, she spotted Cassandra and Kara over to one side, talking with a silver haired woman Mari didn’t know. Cass was wearing a high necked sleeveless dress, so dark blue as to be almost black, and worked with countless tiny golden dots to make it look like a field of stars. It was actually not dissimilar to the armor their cousin Donna wore as Troia, though woven from silk rather than Amazonian leather. Kara was wearing a lovely white dress with golden accents, looking very much the sunny counterpart to Cass’s night sky. 

Cass looked over and gave Mari a happy wave. She hoped Mari was enjoying the party, at least a little bit. It might surprise people who knew of her earlier upbringing, trained to be a living weapon, but Cassandra actually really enjoyed frivolous activities like galas. It was something of a reaction against what her biological father had tried to brutally shape her to be that she’d learned to embrace things like getting all dolled up for a fancy party. Her heels were impractical for running, her dress had a flowing train that was bound to get caught on things, and the dangling earrings she wore were easy targets for grappling; it was an impractical outfit that left her unnecessarily vulnerable and she loved it. 

Perhaps the most remarkable thing Cass had learned from her true family, even before she knew the words to express the thought, was that she wasn’t a weapon, she was a person. She should be allowed to be impractical from time to time, and secure enough to let herself be a little vulnerable. Of course, in the field Black Bat was an efficient no nonsense combatant, but at home she didn’t have to constantly be combat ready and it was a wonderful feeling.

Right now she was catching up with an old friend of the family, Silver St. Cloud, though she mostly let Kara run the conversation. Her girlfriend was wonderfully gregarious, and Cass could spend hours listening to her ramble. Glancing over she saw Marinette chatting happily with Donna and Wally, her body posture steadily relaxing; Cass smiled softly, glad her little sister was doing okay.

—--- 

1 Hour Later

An hour into proceedings and Mari was starting to think she might have worried too much about what was essentially a big fancy party. Granted she’d mostly played it safe, bouncing between family members and keeping most of the people rushing to meet her at arm's length. She wasn’t outright hostile, like Damian had apparently been early on, but she affected a certain level of disinterest. It was weird to act against her usual instincts, but she was starting to understand why Chloe used to act this way; it was like donning a sort of emotional armor.

Maybe it was because the gala was hosted on home territory with a guest list Bruce and Selina had control over, but, while she was obviously an object of interest, no one had really confronted her or interrogated her yet. She’d been focused on keeping her persona in place, and having her partially fabricated to remove superheroics backstory straight, but so far the worst she’d had to deal with was Bernard and a few others being overly friendly. (Bernard had actually been trying to flirt, but Marinette was blissfully oblivious.)

Actually, she’d been having a bit of fun. Seeing her family actually acting full gala mode was jarring, but also kind of hilarious, from Stephanie pretending she was too dainty to help push two tables together, to Carrie seeing if she could get away with speaking only in Dickens quotes. The latter had started to run out about half an hour in until Jason slipped her cheat sheet with some more obscure ones. 

Marinette had just left a conversation with Dick and Kori, currently appearing human due to her holographic shroud, to grab a mini croque madame she spied before Wally or Kara inhaled them, when she was reminded why she needed to keep her guard up.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the belle of the ball,” a woman’s voice cooed from behind her, drawing Mari’s attention. She turned to see a dark haired woman in a sheer black dress with a white shawl. “I’ve been looking all around for you, but the Waynes have been monopolizing you.”

Marinette recognized the woman from the file photo she’d seen while prepping for the gala; it was necessary or a good use of time to memorize the entire attendee list, but she’d been thoroughly warned about Vicki Vale. A reporter with a temperamental relationship with the Wayne family, she ran the Gotham Gazette’s society page and would do nearly anything for a headline. 

Marinette stuck her nose up in the air and sniffed haughtily, “I didn’t realize we’d put any gossip columnists on the invite list.” It went against her nature to be instantly rude like that, but it was all part of the persona she was crafting. Nettie Wayne was meant to be a bit of an ice princess, and being frosty to people on first meeting them was a key part of it.

“Oh, I’m not here as a reporter,” Vicki said cheerfully, “I’m just a plus one tonight. Though if you wanted to give a statement, free of Selina and Brucie’s oversight, I’d be happy to jot it down.” The woman produced a pen and pad from seemingly nowhere and smiled down at Mari, with barely concealed anticipation. Marinette had been prepared for this, but it was still startling to have someone fairly openly try to get her to badmouth the family that had taken her in like that. 

Still, she didn’t let the surprise show on her face, and instead arched one eyebrow and coolly asked, “Where’s your date then?” completely ignoring the second half of Ms. Vale’s statement.

“I’m sorry?” Vicki said, mildly thrown off.

“You said you were here as someone’s plus one; I’m merely curious where your date has gotten off to, since it seems you’ve abandoned them to come talk with me.”

“Oh I’m sure he’s just wandered off somewhere…” Vicki replied trailing off.

Marinette felt a comforting hand on her back, before a voice behind her said, “Well then you’d best go look for him Ms. Vale. It’s Nettie’s first gala and she has quite a few people to meet, I’m sure you understand.” Selina’s voice brooked no disagreement and Mari could instantly feel the aura of protection extend around her.

Vicki Vale made a terse response before scampering off back into the party, leaving Mari and Selina momentarily alone. Mari turned around to find the apparently notoriously icy Mrs. Wayne offering her a smile which she returned. Selina was wearing a fitted sheath dress in the same shade of blue as Mari’s, accented by golden jewelry, necklace, bangle bracelets, earrings, and high white stiletto heels. In many ways it was a more mature version of Mari’s own outfit and she couldn’t help but feel a little warm and fuzzy to be matching with the older cat. 

“Excellently handled, Nettie,” Selina said with a hint of pride. It was all far more reserved than the woman’s normal affection, but Mari understood it would speak volumes to the countless members of Gotham high society, covertly surveying how the Wayne Matriarch interacted with the prodigal daughter of her husband.

Mari did her part as well, falling into a little curtsey while saying, “I just hope she doesn’t let the door hit her on the way out.” 

—------------------

Across the ballroom from Mari and Selina, Bruce was sipping his whiskey (actually ginger ale) with his cousin and Lucius Fox. 

“Looks like my niece just sent your ex packing Brucie,” Kate quipped as she took a sip of her own scotch, (also actually ginger ale). Her long red hair was held in an intricate updo that framed her pale face, and she wore a maroon ball gown along with black opera gloves. (The latter was both for fashion and to more easily hide the cut she’d gotten on her forearm fighting Croc last week.)

Bruce drew a hand dramatically across his face, “ugh, I went on literally one date with the woman and I was fifteen! When are you going to let it go, Katie?” It was always interesting for those who actually knew Bruce to see him put on the more exaggerated movements and emotive voice of his Brucie persona. 

“When you stop reacting like that,” Kate teased, sticking out her tongue. The two tended to turn their bratty sibling-like relationship up a bit when at these parties, or as Selina liked to note, the two repressed bat themed vigilantes used maintaining cover as an excuse to show affection. 

“It is impressive how long Ms. Vale is able to hold a grudge,” Lucius added while sipping his whiskey (actually whiskey). Lucius was easily the Bats’ closest non-hero associate after Alfred and ran much of the day to day of Wayne Enterprises, along with helping to surreptitiously develop the technology they used via Waynetech. “Speaking of your kids though, Dr. Mendelbaum sent me a memo that they’re ready for human trials. Have you told her yet?” He asked in a lower voice while gesturing across the room to a table where a laughing Babs and Dinah were feeding each other stuffed figs. 

Bruce smiled for a moment at the sight of his daughter and her fiance obviously having a good time with one another before his countenance grew pensive. “Selina and I were going to sit down with her this weekend and see if she’s interested in pursuing it. I’ll keep you updated on what her decision is.” Lucius nodded, before Kate gave a subtle hand signal that someone was drawing near to the group. The easy smile of Brucie Wayne reappeared as his mask slid back into place and he called out to Maria Powers to come share a drink with them.

—---------------------

1 Hour Later

“How cute are my little sisters?” Steph squealed as she pointed over towards where Harper, Mari and Carrie were talking with Darci Mason, a rising model from Metropolis. Bunny Vreeland, her companion at the moment, rolled her eyes fondly. The redhead was rather used to how enthusiastically Stephanie took to her role as a big sister with Harper, Carrie and Helena and wasn’t surprised to see the blonde extend the same attitude to her newest sibling.

Bunny was the daughter of Veronica Vreeland, an old school friend of Bruce’s and one of Selina’s main allies in the Gotham social scene, by her first marriage, and just a bit younger than Steph. She was also one of Steph’s closest non-caped friends, and knew the Wayne girl better than nearly anyone else who wasn’t privy to Stephanie’s double life. Therefore, she’d picked up on her friend acting more over the top like a stereotypical daddy’s girl at galas compared to how she did at school. 

It wasn’t like Bunny herself didn’t act differently at these things; she was dressed to the nines, acting on her best behavior, avoiding making any even vaguely controversial statements and so on. The movers and shakers of Gotham congregated at these things, and she’d learned from an early age it was important to avoid hurting your family’s reputation with them; the last thing she wanted to do was cause a faux pas with one of her mother’s business partners. She chalked up Stephanie's somewhat more drastic change to the adopted girl being insecure about her origins, and overcorrecting to fit in with her adoptive family’s world. 

The pair were hanging out by one of the now steadily melting ice sculptures as the party spilled into its third hour.  Bunny took a sip of her mineral water and moaned, “ugh, I can’t believe summer’s already over. I am sooooo not ready for class to start next week.”

“I just hope whoever they got for our new homeroom teacher isn’t another wannabe supervillain,” Steph opined. Their old homeroom teacher, Ms. Pio, had gotten her hands on some Mad Hatter tech and tried to mind control students of the exclusive private school to steal valuable information from their wealthy parents. Unluckily for her, Gotham Academy was also attended by the civilian alter egos of over half a dozen Bats used to fighting the actual Mad Hatter, and they pretty quickly clocked the strange behavior of the chipped students. A quick text led to Nightwing, Troia and Cyborg taking her into custody.

Bunny scoffed, “I don’t care if they’re the next Two-Face, as long as they don’t use Pio’s old seating chart. If I’m stuck behind Amanda Lydecker for another semester-”

The girls’ attention was taken by a beeping coming from Steph’s clutch. Stephanie fished out her phone and pouted as she read the message. “Aw phooey, Rose’s ride ditched her at Lux. I’ve gotta go pick her up.” Rose was in all probability nowhere near the Diamond District nightclub that night, but Intergang was apparently currently breaking into the Gotham City branch of Star Labs, and Stephanie needed a reason to disappear from the party asap.

“Just call her a ride service,” Bunny suggested while snagging an olive spread covered baguette slice from a passing waiter.

Stephanie shook her head, “I’m not going to trust her to a Gotham rideshare this time of night. Besides, her moms don’t know she snuck out and if the charge for a taxi shows up on my card, mom and dad will know about it and ask me, and they’re friends with her moms and-”

“Alright, alright,” Bunny conceded, “go get her before she gets in trouble.”

“Thanks!” Stephanie said with a smile, while mentally mapping the fastest route to the crime scene, “if anyone asks, just tell them I had a stomach ache and turned in.” She’d have to remember to tell Rose about the ruse and apologize for the teasing she was likely to get from Bunny once school started up. She quickly zipped out of the party and made her way towards the only Cave entrance not fully locked down during the gala, in Bruce’s office.

Within the next few minutes, three other members of the family found an excuse to slip away. Starfire pretended to get overly tipsy so Dick had a reason to ‘take her to lie down’, Duke claimed he was due to help his guild with a raid in an MMO he’d never actually played, and Carrie started yawning loudly before very sweetly asking Selina to tuck her in for the evening. 

The whole family couldn’t disappear outside of an apocalyptic emergency which would end the gala anyway, but Catwoman, Goldbat, Nightwing, Batgirl and Starfire, with Carrie running comms, should be enough to handle Manheim’s thugs. 

Marinette had gotten the same alert and felt her insides squirm knowing there was a villain attack she wasn’t personally responding to, but reminded herself she wasn’t so alone in the fight any more. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Law Offices of Gimrack and Gimrack, September 2nd

Anaicia Fritch had had a long day. Her kid had overslept and nearly been late to the entirely too expensive private school Anaicia had barely gotten her into, she’d spilled tzatziki sauce on her skirt at lunch, and her boss was an utter asshole who dropped off a huge file of background information for an upcoming case he wanted her to read and summarize for him while he played a round of golf.

It wasn’t like she didn’t already have enough to do; the junior lawyer had been handling long pending motions relating to the Elliot estate all morning. It was a peculiar case in that there wasn’t an actual client she could consult with, and it was a tangled legal mess figuring out what the practice could actually approve or disapprove on their own. 

Gotham was often said to have seven founding families, The Waynes, The Kanes, The Hills, The Elliots, The Cobblepots, The Crownes and The Arkhams. These families had been prominent since colonial times, later solidifying their importance in the reconstruction of the city following the American Revolution, and you could easily feel that long reaching influence even in modern day Gotham with the sheer number of streets and landmarks that bore their names. 

While all seven were of roughly equal wealth and prestige when the term founding families was first coined, they didn’t remain that way forever. Of the seven, two had fully ceased to exist, the Crownes and the Arkhams both dying out at least in the paternal line. The Hills were still around, but hadn’t fared as well financially as the others, after losing many investments in the crash of 1929; they were still rich by any reasonable measure, but they trailed behind the remaining four. The Cobblepot fortune had largely been seized or otherwise lost following Oswald Cobblepot’s turn as the villainous Penguin. He was a wealthy man again after his improbable release, but everyone knew that his new money came from more criminal sources and the Cobblepot name had certainly lost much of its clout in high society.

That left the Elliot, Kane and Wayne fortunes still intact and thriving now in the 21st century. However, while the Wayne and Kane families had begun to grow again this generation, following a precipitous drop in numbers after the World Wars, the Elliot clan existed now as only one person, Tommy Elliot. The youngest Elliot had been a contemporary of Bruce Wayne and Kate Kane, largely seen as the third scion of Gotham’s elite. Like them, he’d also faced tragedy at an early age, though while Kate had lost her mother and Bruce both parents, Tommy’s father Roger had instead perished in an automobile accident with his mother only following many years later.

Still, despite these tragedies, the Elliot heir had a lot going for him. Tommy was charismatic, handsome, and smart enough to become a neurosurgeon. What’s more, unlike Bruce who went galavanting on a world tour at 17, or Kate who inexplicably served a brief tour with the Army, Tommy had stayed in Gotham which made him the center of attention for a few years prior to the famous cousins’ prodigal returns. There had been every assumption Tommy would settle down and start making little Elliots of his own, keeping the august family going. Unfortunately, that was all in the past, as events had taken a very different turn.

Tommy Elliot had been in a medical coma for years now, ever since he took a plunge into the Gotham river following a scuffle with Two Face, and, if he eventually did wake up, there was prosecution pending relating to the strong evidence that the respected neurosurgeon had secretly been the masked villain known as Hush. The scandal had been like Penguin all over again, and with Tommy unable to answer questions for the police or the press, there had been rampant speculation over what caused such a privileged man to descend into villainy. 

All of that was what led to the vast Elliot estate now being maintained by lawyers, accountants, and brokers, including Anaicia, who was the main lawyer assigned to the Elliot estate. She was relatively new to the peculiar ‘client’, so had been going through reams of paperwork and digital files to get a grasp on all the moving parts. While the Elliots didn’t have a single large company with their name on it like Wayne Enterprises or Kane Consolidated, they were heavily invested in a wide array of ventures, everything from a near controlling interest in the Gotham Gazette, to much of the real estate in Gotham Heights. It was an odd situation, but until Tommy woke up and could be tried, or died, all those assets were in limbo, a perpetual holding pattern that Anaicia was partially responsible for wrangling.

“Ugh, how many times do I have to explain to Valestra that we can’t authorize the sale of any Beaumont stock,” Anaicia muttered as she thumbed through yet another request from Sal Valestra to buy out the estate’s stock in Beaumont Analytics. 

“Pardon me, miss,” the man said as he walked into the room, “I’m told you’re the one to talk to regarding the Elliot estate?”

Anaicia sighed without looking up, “tell Mr. Valestra we legally can’t authorize the trust to sell that particular stock. It was held personally by Roger Elliot and not managed by his authorize brokers and until such time as a judge chooses to dissolve the trust, our firm’s power of attorney doesn’t permit us to-”

“Oh, I’m actually here regarding another matter pertaining to the estate,” the man said affably. 

Anaicia looked, really looked at the man who was standing relaxed in front of her desk and gasped a little. It was a fairly young looking man, square jawed with an aristocratic nose and curly dark hair. He was a dead ringer for a young Roger Elliot, with only a different eye color and lack of a beard to distinguish him from the file photos she’d seen countless times working with the Elliot estate.

“Hello my name is Gordon Elliot and I’d like to talk to someone about claiming my inheritance.”

Chapter Text

Night of the Autumnal Gala, Abandoned Warehouse, Trenton, New Jersey

A striking, somewhat exotic looking woman in a green dress leaned over a multi-screen computer set up that had recently been installed in this temporary center of operations. She glowered at some of the feeds flashing across the screen, but kept her feelings bottled up, not keen on giving anything away to her subordinates that were flitting around the room. There would be time to hash everything out in the open soon enough.

“Report,” Talia commanded as she stood and turned around to see a kneeling ninja. Onyx was one of the few operatives she knew to be more loyal to her personally, rather than to the League of Assassins as a whole or to her father. It didn’t mean Talia trusted the other woman, but it did mean she was willing to count on her to play her part in what was to come.

“The Circle of Six have received their orders and will be in Gotham by the designated date,” Onyx, an extremely fit dark-skinned woman with very short hair, answered directly. “They are as yet uniformed of the operation’s objective but will be prepared for conflict.The other assets are taking more time given the care we have to take moving them, but I assure you all will be ready in two months’ time. Oh, and the contract for the outsider has been paid,” she added after a moment with obvious distaste.

“Acceptable,” Talia responded. While a few lieutenants like Onyx knew the plan, most of the operatives involved with her plan were unaware this was an unsanctioned operation. She fully intended to achieve her goals as a fait accompli before her father was any the wiser. However, that did mean they had to move more slowly, and be subtle moving things into place.

After more than a century of being the dutiful daughter, Talia’s frustrations with her father’s unending rule were reaching a breaking point. He knew she had long desired to lead the League of Assassins herself, and while he encouraged her ambitions in a Darwinist sort of way, she suspected she would never truly ascend to be the Head of the Demon if she let things continue as they were.

Her father may talk about wanting an heir, or even play with the idea of stepping away from the organization from time to time, but she held no illusions. Ras was immortal, born of the Lazarus Pit, and he would long continue to cling to his power. Especially since, while he was happy to have female assassins among their ranks, Ras had the chauvinism of the ancient era to which he was born and scoffed at the idea of having to settle for a female heir. It was why his inability to sire anything but daughters was perhaps his greatest regret.

It was also what made it so infuriating that he was now favoring her prodigal elder half-sister Nyssa, who had just returned to the fold after a long absence. He was even planning to place the unworthy traitor in charge of the day-to-day operations of the League while he recovered for a time following his upcoming planned refresh in the Pit. She could take his insistence of looking elsewhere for a male heir but refused to come second to another woman.

“And the weapon?” Talia asked while keeping one eye on a lower ranked assassin currently unboxing a crate of weapons on the other side of the room. The fact that she had developed her own shadow organization, Leviathan, within the League was a closely guarded secret, but she couldn’t ignore the possibility her father had become aware and had spies watching even now. In so, she was careful to make sure no one seemed to be taking too much interest in her conversation with Onyx. If they were…. Well, theirs was a dangerous business.

Onyx shifted, her face momentarily flashing discomfort before she schooled her features again. “Nuvo-Gen assures me the weapon will be fully developed in time.” Onyx’s eyes darkened, “these scientists are impetuous and speak above their station, but-“

“Hamilton and the rest will learn their place in time, or suffer the consequences,” Talia interrupted dismissively. The important thing was that the child would be delivered on time. It was an ignominious action she’d had to take, but one the traitor had forced upon her. She turned back to the monitor that showed some talking heads blathering about her once-beloved’s false life. “I have business to attend to with my father, but I trust you to monitor the situation and make sure all is in readiness upon my return.” She would keep his eyes away from Gotham and what she had planned; after all, when you were planning to stab the demon in the back, it helped if he didn’t know it was coming.

“As you wish,” Onyx replied. The Fangs of Demon were finally drawing close around the throat of Gotham.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Sibling Chat:

DUKE: I am happy to report Marinette has gone from total gaming newb, to being entirely addicted to Stardew Valley.

CARRIE: Duke, brother of mine, I need you to stop trying to leet speak in your texts.

MARI: I mean, addicted is a strong term, but it is really fun! My farmer has so many hats!! I don’t get why they bothered adding in all these romance options though.

HARPER: Well, it’s optional so if you don’t want to mess with the whole marriage mechanic you don’t have to.

DICK: Yeah! If romance isn’t your thing, it’s still a fun little farming sim. OOH we should start a multiplayer family farm!!! 😀 🤠

DAMIAN: We will not be doing that.

JASON: Seconded. Motion carried, Dickwad. 

DICK: 😢

MARI: What, no. I meant why, did they bother to add so many options when Haley is obviously the only correct choice? 

HARPER: … How can you say that when Abigail is right there!?!

DUKE: Uh, I think you meant to type Maru.

DICK: What about Leah and Sebastian???

TIM: I’d do the family server if we play Terraria instead.

STEPH: What, Tim, we aren’t talking about that anymore. We’re talking about Mari ignoring the awesomeness of Emily.

JASON: Why do I have to be in this chat?

CASS: I also picked Haley. ☀️ 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Manor, Morning After the Gala, September 2nd

Selina held her mug of coffee up to her nose and willed the smell of her favorite roasted blend to bring her to full wakefulness. Imported coffee beans might low-key be her favorite little luxury that had come along with marrying Bruce, and some mornings a strong pot brewed by Alfred was the only thing that let her pretend she wasn't totally nocturnal. Really, she'd normally be sleeping at this ungodly hour of 8 AM, but she'd made the effort to be awake to see her children off for the first day of school.

She was a bit nervous for Marinette in particular, who was clearly a bit stressed about starting at a new school, even if her newest daughter was doing her best to hide it. Over the last several months, Mari had adapted admirably to her new home and country, but even setting aside the trouble Mari had run into with her old Parisian collegé, starting school in a new place was bound to be nerve-wracking. Luckily seven of her siblings and two of her cousins also attended Gotham Academy, so she'd have someone to watch her back.

Selina shook her head to focus on the impending difficult conversation as she slipped through the hidden door behind the grandfather clock. Technically this little conference wasn’t Bat related, but considering the subject matter, it was likely to drift in that direction. That tended to happen whenever the clown came up. Either way it was a secure room.

Slipping into her usual seat at the circular slate grey table the family of vigilantes often used for briefings and discussions and settled in to wait for her husband and her eldest daughter. Bruce would be returning from taking Helena over to the Kane estate (Diana was taking her niece along for a special kid’s day at the museum), and Babs had texted that she and Dinah were enroute to the Manor. There was nothing left to do for the moment besides wait.

“What, no coffee for me?” Barbara called out a few minutes later as the doors to the Cave’s elevator entrance opened. Like the rest of the Manor, the entirety of the Batcave was wheelchair accessible. Selina looked up and smiled as she saw the redhead, clad in a casual green hoodie and sweats, wheeling herself in, while Dinah, similarly casual in a purple sweater and jeans, followed after. 

“As if you didn’t have at least two cups before you left our apartment,” Selina shot back playfully. 

“Hey, you and dad were the ones who wanted to meet at this ungodly hour, I need my caffeine!” Barbara protested as she wheeled herself up to the table. Her tone was light but Selina could detect the hint of tension beneath it, likely due to her worry over not knowing what they were about to discuss. Oracle was used to being the one with all the information, and even when it was momentary, didn’t love being kept in the dark. 

“Apologies,” Bruce answered as he himself descended from the grandfather clock entrance, “the matter is somewhat time sensitive.”

“And we wanted a chance to talk to you without any of your siblings trying to listen in,” Selina added. If you got down to it, the family knew the importance of respecting each other’s privacy, but they all had a bad habit of ‘practicing their surveillance skills’ on each other, and the parents wanted to avoid letting this particular cat out of the bag until Barbara had a chance to process it.

Bruce decided to rip off the band-aid, “Doctor Summers at Wayne Medical has made considerable progress with a new procedure to return mobility to paraplegic patients. It’s still cutting edge but so far it seems very promising and has progressed through the first round of human trials successfully with no major complications arising in participants.”

Selina slid a tablet with details over to the younger women for them to look out before continuing the explanation. “There’s an opportunity for you to be part of the second round of trials; your injury meets the profile and-“

“-what’s the procedure?” Barbara cut in; her voice controlled as she passed the pad over to Dinah to look through. The blonde put a comforting hand on her fiancée’s shoulder as she began to flick through the data. As a trained physical therapist, she was the more versed of the two about this sort of thing.

“A surgery to affix a cybernetic chip to the base of the spinal column,” Bruce explained, “the implant provides an alternate path for neurological signals that bypasses the damaged section of the spinal cord.” Bruce paused for a moment before continuing, “it could restore some but not all of the motor function you’ve lost, and, like all surgeries, isn’t without its risks.”

Knowing how emotionally fraught the subject was for Barbara, Selina tried to be as gentle as she could as she added, “it’s also something that would be somewhat delicate. Day to day activities wouldn’t put too much stress on it, but high intensity aerobics, any sort of heavy impacts and the like could.”

“So, I’ll still never be Batgirl again,” Barbara stated plainly what they were all dancing around. She’d long ago come to terms with that fact but understood why her parents were being gentle about poking around at that scar. She turned to look up at Dinah, “what do you know about this?” 

Dinah, wanting to make sure Babs could make an informed decision, bit her lip before explaining cautiously, “I’d need more time to read over all the specifics of this new surgery, but Dr Summers is well respected in the field…” She locked eyes with Babs, “and if, if you get this, it, well, it won’t be a cure-all, darling. You haven’t voluntarily moved those muscle groups or fully used those neural pathways in years, so you’re looking at a lot of physical therapy to retrain your body. Even then, there will be some days when you still need the chair and other mobility aids. Probably a cane at the very least.”

Barbara took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she did what she always did, use her logic to sort the whirling thoughts in her head until they were under control. Would this improve her quality of life? Potentially, at least in part. As much as she refused to let her condition define her, there were certain activities that she just couldn’t do from the chair. On the other hand, she would be the first to tell you that her disability didn’t stop her from living a full life. Did she need this, or was she chasing the past?

In technical terms at the moment, her injury was classified as sensory incomplete. That is to say, she had sensation and feeling below her waist but almost no motor control. On a really good day she could wiggle a toe. This implant might not restore her to where she was before the shooting, but it would be a massive change for her.

‘ One that would come with a lot of complications of its own,’ as her eyes danced over the data on the pad. She’d be in bedrest for at least a week after surgery, and then came the no doubt painful and, to the always on the job Barbara, tedious months and months of physical therapy. If she did this, she’d have to take time off of work, and scale back her activities as Oracle for a while, something she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with. The way she kept herself from worrying about her family in the field was by being right there beside them as a digital ghost, and letting go of that even for a little while would be a bitter pill to swallow. 

Selina reached over and squeezed Bab’s other hand, since Dinah had already started holding one of them. “Kitten, whatever you decide we support you 100% of the way. This is an option, but it’s just an option.” Catwoman was never really going to be able to get over what the Joker did to her eldest baby, even if the clown was literally a pile of ashes, and she knew this wouldn’t ‘fix’ what happened. At this point, she and Bruce just wanted Babs to have the best life she could have, whatever that ended up meaning for her.

Eventually one thought cut through all the other considerations for Barbara. It was silly, and maybe a little selfish compared to all the other more practical concerns she was trying to balance, but it was what won out. “I think I want to do it,” she said hesitantly before looking up at Dinah and explaining, “I just, it would be kind of nice to be able to dance on my wedding day.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Mount Justice, Afternoon, September, Next Week

Artemis Crock idly spun a green shafted arrow in her hand as she watched Bart Allen, AKA Impulse, demolish a plate of nachos at inhuman speed. The scarlet archer and her teammate were hanging out in Mount Justice’s central lounge area, awaiting the arrival of the rest of Young Justice.

Artie was normally early, partly out of overpreparation, and partly because she’d take any excuse to get out of Gotham for a bit. She loved her mom, but the former villain turned social worker could be more than a little overbearing sometimes, so it was nice to get out of the house and into her hero persona. Even if it meant watching Bart unhinge his jaw at superspeed to devour the jalapeno and cheese encrusted chips he was currently shoveling into his maw.

“Y’know, it might be nice if the snacks for a meeting aren’t all gone by the time everyone gets here for once,” she quipped sardonically at her friend.

“Food belongs to those who strike first,” Bart shot back, before adding, “besides, I can dash into the kitchen and whip something up in a flash if anyone else is hungry.”

“Like we’re letting you into the kitchen after what happened last time,” Rocket, real name Raquel Ervin, replied as she hopped over the low backed sofa to sit next to Artemis. “I think M’gann’s baking something anyway for the new kid.”

“Did someone say my name?” Miss Martian, who was currently green skinned but in casual earth attire of a long red skirt and a white frilled blouse, asked as she floated into the area, carrying a tray of steaming chocolate chip cookies with her telekinesis. She set the tray on the long coffee table, along with a pad to cushion it. “Is she here yet?” The Martian girl was always excited to play host for the newest young members of the hero community. 

“Not yet,” Artemis responded as the door to the base’s training area swooshed open to reveal Superboy, Kaldur'ahm, the second Aqualad, Static (real name Virgil Hawkins) and Blue Beetle, his mask currently retracted, arriving for the meeting.

“Still no sign of Rob?” Conner asked, while pointedly not looking at Miss Martian. The teens had broken up a little over a month ago and things were still awkward between them. The open secret that Conner was apparently already pursuing someone else, a civilian named Tana Moon, didn’t help matters.

“Typical of the high and mighty Bats to keep everyone else waiting,” Jaime complained, despite the fact this was both supposed to be a casual meet and greet and that it wasn’t to start for another five minutes. The alien exosuit wearing boy was testy after losing a training bout against his half-Kryptonian teammate, even if he told himself, it was due to restricting himself to the less dangerous options his suit provided for a friendly fight. 

Static manipulated a bolt of lightning to levitate the tray with the few remaining nachos on it over to him as he flopped on the couch, worn out after his training against Aqualad. “Relax, my man. I’m sure the new girl has enough jitters without us being unnecessarily intense.” Static liked his blue shelled friend, but the guy could stand to be less serious all the time.

“RECOGNIZE W-3, RECOGNIZE MB-2” The computerized voice of the zeta tube system announced as Wondergirl, Sandra Kane, and Mockingbird’s sidekick Lark materialized on the pad. 

The two close friends were mid conversation about something but were quickly interrupted by Impulse zipping right in front of them and excitedly asking, “Hey Lark, you and MB work in Gotham, have you met Lady Noire yet? What’s she like? Do you know when she, Rob and BG are going to get here?” While Bart himself knew it, Lark’s actual name wasn’t known to the entirety of the team, so he was careful to refer to her by her heroic moniker. 

Rose Blackthorn cocked an eyebrow, “I’ve met her, she’s cool, and they’re already here.”

There was a moment of confusion for some members of Young Justice, though notably not M’gann, Conner or Kaldur (due to telepathy, super hearing, and a good poker face respectively), before Sandra cupped her hands to her mouth and called out to the rafters, “stop being a bunch of drama queens and get down here!” 

Much to the surprise of the rest of YJ, three dark shapes dropped from the ceiling, landing right behind Rocket and making her jump a little bit. Of the three, Lady Noire looked a little sheepish, Raptor seemed mildly put out to have been caught and Batgirl was just smiling playfully. “Took you long enough,” Steph quipped. 

Mari had surprised herself a little bit by being less nervous to meet her siblings’ teammates than she’d been to debut before Gotham high society, but, then again, she’d always felt more confident in her Lady Noire costume. She’d been skeptical of pulling a prank of the other young heroes but gone along with Steph and Tim in the end; besides, improving her stealth was one of the major areas she was racing to catch up with her siblings, so hiding from the rest of the team proved a practical purpose beyond demonstrating the Bat ability to seemingly appear out of nowhere.

“Seriously guys,” Tim scolded, “I know this is our headquarters, but you need to work on having constant situational awareness.” Mari had to resist a giggle, something quite out of keeping with the dark vigilante vibe she was going for, as she exchanged a knowing glance with her sister. She’d been told by her siblings that Tim turned into a bit of a team mom when he was with YJ but seeing him in action was rather amusing.

Blue Beetle rolled his eyes, while Artemis narrowed hers at M’gann. “How did you not sense them, M’gann?”

Miss Martian put her hands on her hips, “I’m not always reading everyone’s minds,” she said pointedly. Then telepathically she added just so Artemis could hear, “ Steph asked me not to say anything, so the rest of the team could practice.” 

“In any event,” Kaldur interjected, nipping the bud on any further bickering. He turned towards Lady Noire, “it is an honor to meet another ally. We have heard remarkable things about your performance in Paris.”

If she had been in civilian clothes, she may have blushed from the compliment, but as Lady Noire she was able to playfully wink and demurely reply, “Merci. It was an interesting year to say the least, and while Paris is a beautiful city, I am happy to be home.”

Barbara had informed her that the general speculation on Lady Noire once the wider world became aware of her was that she was a protégé of Catwoman’s who had been sent to Paris to work the Hawkmoth case and broadly speaking the family had decided to roll with that misconception. Mari personally felt it was a bit insulting to Selina, considering how inept she felt she was when she started out, but ultimately it was another bit of useful subterfuge to distance Marinette Wayne from Lady Noire. ‘ Although, Gotham really does feel more like home than Paris at this point. It’s only missing one thing…’

Artemis rose and extended a hand for Mari to shake, “well, nice to meet you, I’m Artemis, and the blurry kid currently trying to eat your welcome cookies while no one’s watching is Impulse.’

“Bwah!” Bart blurted through a full mouth under the glare of both M’gann and Kaldur, looking every inch the naughty kid caught my mom and dad. 

Mari flashed her slightly elongated catlike fangs as she shook the other girl’s hand, “it’s fine, we brought our own refreshments. Batgirl?”

Steph plucked a clear water bottle full of a viscous red substance from the back of her belt and handed it over to her sister, “of course Lady Noire. I made sure to grab your favorite before we left the cave.”

The sisters got to enjoy the blanched looks on the faces of the more gullible members of the team, even if it made those closer to the Batfamily roll their eyes. Even among other heroes, many were convinced by their abilities and the misinformation campaign spearheaded by Barbara, that the Bats were in some way supernatural. They typically weren’t consistent with it, but Steph in particular liked to drop hints that the whole family were vampires of some kind, and Mari, who genuinely was supernatural funnily enough, had been convinced to go along with it. 

She finished sipping her tomato juice before saying, “truly though, it is an honor to meet you.” She did a slight curtsey. “While I’m not planning to join your group full time at the moment, please do consider me an asset if you need assistance in the future.” Technically she was going to be made a reserve member of the team, which was the same position held by Harper, Duke, Damian and Cass.

Unlike the Titans or the Justice Society, Young Justice was a big tent organization, much like the Justice League. That was to say there were far more young heroes with association, or reserve status, who weren’t active day-to-day members, than there were members of the core team. They might cooperate for a mission, or occasionally train with the team, but they weren’t typically hanging out around Mount Justice.

That was because, much like the Justice League itself, the point of the organization was to provide basic coordination and, considering the age of Young Justice’s would be heroes, guidance and oversight. A teen with superpowers and no clue how to use them could be a danger to themselves and others, even if they were trying to do the right thing.

Mari was quickly introduced to the rest of the Team, shaking hands and exchanging short greetings. She knew most of them by reputation at least, and had actually met Connor as Mari when he came over to the manor to hang out with Tim. She’d also met Artemis, though the other girl wasn’t aware of that since she wasn’t privy to Mari’s civilian identity. 

Artemis was a bit like the Wonders, living in Gotham but largely using the Zeta network to operate elsewhere, in her case Star City where her mentor Green Arrow operated. As such, she was a scholarship student studying at Gotham Academy, a year ahead of Mari and Damian, in Harper and Duke’s class. They were the two who knew her somewhat well in their civilian identities and had to be a bit careful around her when under their cowls. 

Gotham Academy had been a refreshing change of pace for Mari, and a bit of an anti-climax considering how stressed she’d been before her first day. She wasn’t as behind as she’d feared she’d be considering her six months out of school, and after a month or so attending the sprawling elite private school, she found she rather liked it. 

It wasn’t perfect; like any school it had its fair share of jerks, bad teachers, and general high school annoyances, but it was a damn sight better than her last days at the College Francois Dupont had been. She didn’t know if it was her status as a Wayne, or the reputation she’d begun building as Nettie at the Gala, but her classmates tended to be distant and respectful towards her; no one was targeting her for harassment like Lila had ‘and thank the Kwamis for that.’

She’d stuck close to Damian for the most part, and her other siblings when she crossed paths with them at lunch or during study hall. The émigré was cordial with several other students but hadn’t formed any close friendships yet. That said, she didn’t feel nearly as much pressure to do so right away, considering she now had a supportive family to always fall back on. It was something she was still getting used to.

“So, why’d Catwoman let you fly solo in Paris?” Jaime demanded after introductions were finished. “I’ve been protecting New Mexico by myself since I became Blue Beetle, and they still insist on sending Booster Gold to check in all the time.” Blue Beetle was one of the handful of young heroes without a dedicated mentor, the previous Beetle having perished in the same explosion that led to the scarab attaching itself to his spine, so Booster had been occasionally stopping by to try and fill that role, mostly unsuccessfully so far.

Mari gave him a flat look, summoning a bit of the cold persona she used as Nettie, “who’s to say she wasn’t checking in with me? In any event, I don’t second guess her decisions.” She had a low-key high-key grudge against the other teen despite just meeting, due to him apparently being a jerk to Stephanie in the wake of their breakup. Apparently the two were able to be polite enough to one another when working as a team at this point, but Mari still felt protective of her older sister.

“Why don’t we show Lady Noire around the Mountain?” Aqualad said, smoothly changing the subject. “You may not be joining us full time, but you are still welcome to use the facilities.”

“OOH, a tour!” M’gann said enthusiastically before grabbing Mari’s hand to lead her around the Mountain. She was exceptionally curious about the newest member of the Batfamily, particularly because she couldn’t read her mind. Like she’d said earlier, she’d learned on earth that it was considered an invasion of privacy to read the minds of others without permission, but with Lady Noire she straight up couldn’t.

All the Bats had a mental discipline that made delving into their thoughts difficult, if not impossible, but with Mari it was as if there was a shadowy wall stopping her from even touching it directly. Her uncle had warned her that would be the case, as it was apparently a result of Lady Noire’s unique abilities, but it was still bizarre and intriguing for the Martian girl to experience it for herself.

What she didn’t know was that Plagg, who was currently fused with Mari while her Miraculous was active, was the cause of Mari’s mental shields. The two were bonded on a metaphysical level, and the cat spirit could easily coat his spirit around Mari’s to block most forms of mind reading, brainwashing, and the like, especially that of the non-magical variety. 

Mari chuckled quietly and let herself be whisked off through the cave as the assembled YJ dispersed throughout it, only Impulse, Batgirl, Aqualad, and Static coming along for the tour, despite all of them obviously being well acquainted with the place. Her siblings’ friends seemed nice, but she also understood what Duke had meant when he said they were “a lot.” Reserve status was going to suit her fine for the time being.

“Hey Lady Noire, where do you stand on Chicken Whizzies, the best food ever, or absolutely the best food ever?” Impulse hurriedly asked before launching into another question before she could answer. By the time the tour ended and she was able to slip back into the Zeta tube, even reserve status was seeming like “a lot.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The House of El Chat, that Night:

BIG KANSAS: Lombard’s appendix burst. He’s fine, but he’ll be out for a few days and Perry asked me to cover the sports beat while he’s gone. I’m afraid I’m going to miss dinner tonight since it seems I’m going to the Monarchs game. At least with any luck I’ll get to see them smash the Mercuries. Wally’s going to be insufferable if Keystone wins the series again this year.

LADY EL: Aw, poor baby, you have to go to a free baseball game of your favorite team. JK, sweetie, we’ll miss you at dinner but I’ll make sure the ravenous pits we call our children leave you some pizza

BIG KANSAS: Actually, the Planet gave me two tickets if anyone wants to come with me. What do you say, Conner, want to catch a ball game with your old man?

THE METROPOLIS KID: Thanks, but no thanks dad, I’m busy tonight. Actually, I’m out for dinner too.

LADY EL: Uh, Conner? Why is this the first we’re hearing about this? You need to tell us if you have plans.

THE METROPOLIS KID: I’m telling you now. Some of the guys at school are getting together to go check out this production of Arise the Demon they’re putting on at the University of Metropolis.

BIG KANSAS: Son, since when do you like theater? You fell asleep the last time your sister dragged you along. 

KARBEAR: Since one of the ‘guys’ going to the play is Tana Moon.

THE METROPOLIS KID: KARA!!!

LADY EL: Conner, you don’t have to hide it if you have a date. Do I think there are better options for a smart young man such as yourself than the intern who broke my printer, yes, but you’re allowed to date. All we ask is that you be careful.

LADY EL: And don’t move too fast.

LADY EL: And always use protection.

THE METROPOLIS KID: RAO MOM, STOP!! It’s not a date. It’s a bunch of us going, so lay off Kara.

KARBEAR: After all the crap you gave me about Cass when we started dating? Fat chance bro.

BIG KANSAS: Kara, Conner, be kind to each other.

THE METROPOLIS KID: Yes, pa.

KARBEAR: Yes, pa

KARBEAR: If that ticket’s still available I’d love to go to the game, but I don’t want to leave mom and Jon all alone.

LADY EL: Please, go enjoy yourself, comet. Jon’s been bugging me for another playdate with Helena, so I’ll see if Selina and Bruce mind us joining them for dinner. Can you zip us over before the game, Big Blue?

BIG KANSAS: I’d be happy to. Kara, I’ll meet you after school and we’ll take a cab from there to the ballpark. It’ll be a lot more fun with some company!

KARBEAR: Sounds good! I’ll need to zip home for a minute to grab my old Monarchs jersey, but this is going to be great!

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Manor, September, the Next Friday

“Catch the kitty!” Helena cheered as she ran around the den, giggling happily. Plagg, the spirit of the Destruction Miraculous who lived in Marinette’s ring, was floating and bobbing just out of reach of the four-year-old as the two played. The godly kwami had taken a real shine to the youngest member of the Wayne clan, if you didn’t count the one-year-old Alfred the Cat, and after relaxing a bit about revealing himself to Marinette’s new family, often liked to entertain the child.

“Careful around the coffee table, Plagg,” Marinette warned from where she sat curled up on the couch. The teenager had just gotten back from school for the day and was still in her uniform, taking a minute to chill before going to change into more casual clothes.

The Gotham Academy Uniform wasn’t bad, if a little traditional. It consisted of a royal blue blazer with silver piping and the school’s coat of arms emblazoned across the left breast pocket that could be worn open or partially buttoned, white collared button ups for the base layer, a striped tie of blue, black and silver, and then dark slacks or a blue and grey plaid skirt. She’d gone for the skirt that morning.

Which meant the little personalizations made to the uniform via accessories were the main way students could express their personal fashion during school hours. Today Marinette had worn slightly dangling silver and moonstone earrings, a thin choker necklace, a burgundy ribbon tying some of her blue-black hair back, and a cute heart shaped purse over her left shoulder. 

She’d gotten in the habit of accessorizing back in Paris, both as an extension of her natural style, and to distract attention away from the accessory she always wore, Plagg’s ring. If the ring was only one of several pieces of jewelry, it would hopefully stand out less. That said, the particulars had changed from the cheap costume pieces she wore last year, considering the silver dangling from her ears and the tiny diamonds around her neck. 

Add a light but well-done makeup job, (far less than she did for galas but more than she used to wear casually), and the general better care she was taking care of herself these days and Marinette Wayne actually looked very well put together, and dare she say cute. She even had her nails painted with a decorative sakura blossom design. 

Well, she was actually wearing temporary nail extensions, something she, along with most of her sisters and Selina, did habitually in public. As much as Selina joked about her long nails being ‘claws’, nails of that length weren’t exactly practical when punching villains every other night, or other activities requiring full dexterity. Easily removable press ons were just more practical, and also lent themselves to easy coordination with a particular outfit, something Marinette quite enjoyed. 

“Relax, the corners are baby proofed,” Harper chimed in from the opposite side of the couch, not looking up from her phone. Marinette’s sister had her attention glued to Twitter and Reddit that afternoon, eagerly awaiting the announcement trailer for the new Star Trek show that was supposed to drop that day.  Marinette had actually found herself enjoying some of the old show when Harper forced her to sit down for a few episodes but couldn’t say she matched the slightly older girl’s hype.

“Notta baby!” Helna protested, while still chasing Plagg. The girl had her hair in pigtails that bounced about wildly as she pounced at the cat spirit, finally catching him and collapsing onto the carpet in joyful exhaustion.

Marinette might not be stuck to her phone, but she was messing around with a device of her own. The Switch her brother had picked up for her was addictive, and she was taking a break from tending her farm in Stardew Valley to goof around with a port of the infamously bad video game based on Mr. Kent.

“I’m just saying it feels like we should be doing something about this pop,” Duke said as he and Bruce passed into the room. The pair were apparently in the middle of some conversation, and Mari could guess what it was about.

Bruce sighed and stopped to put a hand on Duke’s shoulder, “I understand anything relating to Hush is stressful, but there’s really nothing else we can do at the moment that we aren’t already doing. Gordon Elliot, whether he’s genuinely who he claims to be, or, as I suspect, an opportunist looking to get the Elliot fortune, has no connection to his criminal brother we can find. We’re monitoring the situation, and the GCPD is investigating his claims, but for now we just have to wait.”

The arrival of a supposed bastard son of one of Gotham’s other famous families had been the bombshell to finally push Marinette off the society page headlines. Frankly she was more than happy to quickly be blending into just another one of the Wayne kids, but she understood her brother’s concern. Based on the files she’d read, the comatose Tommy Elliot had been a uniquely dangerous foe, responsible for the death of an old ally of the family named Harold, and his brother turning up was bound to draw attention.

So far though, all this Gordon had done was start the legal process of asserting his identity and right to the family fortune and started trying to make inroads to Gotham high society, who were waiting to see how the lawyers and trust decided to weigh in before embracing him. He hadn’t even gone to visit Tommy in the coma ward, and Marinette thought like Bruce that he was probably just a grifter looking for a score, not something that needed the family’s attention.

“But you said yourself that Roger Elliot wasn’t the kind of guy to cheat and sleep around,” Duke protested. Something about the whole situation was nagging at him, and he kept searching for something deeper going. Duke took a breath, ‘ maybe you’re just freaking cause anyone who could kill a close ally of the family scares the crap out of you.’

“I said he didn’t seem like the kind,” Bruce replied, “and I was also a child when he died. While I think an imposter after the Elliot fortune is more likely, it’s not impossible he fathered a previously unknown child. It has been known to happen.” 

Duke glanced awkwardly over at Marinette before nodding, “yeah, that makes sense. I’ll ask Babs to circle back to it once she’s back to full strength but for now we’ll let it play out. I’m gonna go suit up for patrol.” To take advantage of his light manipulating meta-abilities, Duke operated in the daylight hours more than the rest of the family, typically patrolling in the afternoon during the school year for a few hours.

“Speaking of Barbara,” Bruce began, turning to his daughters sitting on the couch, “Her surgery has been scheduled for the 28 th . Selina and I are going to accompany her and Dinah to the hospital, and she’s said the rest of you are welcome to come too if you want but you are not obligated to.”

“We’ll be there,” Harper and Marinette said in almost perfect unison. The whole family was nervous, but a little excited about the potentially life changing surgery the oldest Wayne sibling was soon to undergo and wanted to be there to support her. 

“Ugh, assigned partners are such bullshit,” Jason Wayne loudly complained as he stomped into the room. Mari sweat dropped, the Waynes were really wonderful so far, but there were so many of them the Manor felt like a high transit intersection sometimes. The college student tossed his motorcycle helmet onto the divan before collapsing in an armchair. “This girl I’m paired up with for my Victorian Lit project is going to drive me mad.”

Bruce frowned slightly, “I’m sure she isn’t that bad.”

Jason gave him the stink eye, “trust me when I say Alexis is the absolute worst. She’s so flaky, and combative and pretentious-“

“Yeah, a pretentious argumentative English major who’s always disappearing sounds dreadful,” Harper snarked, since that description could also be applied to Jason. The older brother turned his baleful gaze towards her before huffing and grinning slightly in good humor.

“I see what you’re saying,” Jason said, “I’ll try and cut her some slack. Anyway, Marinette!”

Mari, startled to be suddenly addressed directly, hastily put her console to sleep. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been paying attention, but a good portion of her bandwidth was until that moment focused on trying to get Uncle Clark to fly through the damn ring. 

Jason continued, “one of my contacts finally came good on the location of the chop shop the Neon Dragon Triad’s carjacking ring is working out of. I could use some help on the bust. What do you say, want to fly with Red Bat for a change?”

Marinette immediately perked up at the offer, flattered to have been asked. While they weren’t exactly coddling her, the family had definitely been steering her towards the less dangerous threats facing Gotham, and she was eager to show what she was capable of. Add to that she hadn’t really gotten to patrol with Jason much, usually shadowing Selina or Stephanie, and partnering with Damian or Harper, and she leapt at the chance.

“Letmegogetmycostumeon!” she said so fast that the accent she was diligently working on losing came back in full force and she slurred her words into one. Hopping to her feet she dashed off for the cave to start getting prepared, calling out behind her “C’mon, Plagg! It’s Claws Out time!!”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Paris, September, Same Day

(All Dialogue in French unless otherwise stated)

Bug Boy nailed a fleeing thief in the small of his back with his Ladybug Yo-Yo, sending him sprawling onto the pavement. He hadn’t even needed to bother with a Lucky Charm and quickly retrieved the bag the man had stolen before walking back down the lane to return it to its owner, who thanked him profusely

While he smiled and winked at the unfortunate tourist who’d been mugged, internally he couldn’t shake his disappointment. ‘ Is this what I’m reduced to, chasing purse snatchers?’ He complained to himself as he ducked into an alley to take his spots off. ‘ I used to save the city from Akuma on a weekly basis, practically single handed!’

The teen model wasn’t taking the come down from the regular adrenaline of the year long fight with Hawkmoth particularly well. Sure, it had been dangerous, as Lady Noire loved to nag on, but it had been fun! ‘ Plus, the people loved us, even if she would never stick around to talk to the cameras.’

The people still loved Bug Boy, but it wasn’t quite the same just fighting mundane crime. It didn’t help that he’d discovered he wasn’t exactly very good at finding mundane crime which tended to be less obvious than the citywide Akuma attacks he had gotten used to. One thing you could say for Hawkmoth was that he didn’t do anything small. He called “Spots Off!” and let Tikki hop in his pocket to rest before dashing off down the street.

“At least he was a good villain, even if he was a rotten father,” Adrien muttered as he snuck back into school via the side door. He’d just wanted to get out of there for a bit, so had ditched study hall to put his spots on. When people looked at him as Bug Boy, they still did so with adoration, rather than the pity that had become the norm of his civilian identity.

The fact that his father had been the villain who terrorized and isolated the city for over a year was very public knowledge, and, while surprisingly few people seemed to blame Adrien, he couldn’t stand the condescending concern they insisted on showing him. He was Adrien Argeste, holder of the most powerful Miraculous! How dare they look down on him, like he somehow needed their help.

“There you are,” Lila Rossi, his girlfriend, huffed when he slipped back into the library, “you were almost late, again bugaboo!” Adrien had decided to let the Italian girl in on his secret identity a few weeks ago, and she was now very useful in helping cover for his disappearances. Lady Noire had always been the one who was so obsessive about keeping their identities secret, and now that she’d abandoned him and the city, he found himself relaxing on some of her dumb rules.

“Sorry, Li-Li,” he said with a smirk, “Paris would be lost without its real hero.” His former so-called partner may have run out of the French capital, but he was happy to stick around. He was still deeply upset with the cat themed heroine for skipping town just because Hawkmoth was defeated by those limelight stealing heroes from the Justice League, but he was actually coming to enjoy having the spotlight all to himself.

Lila smiled indulgently and gave him a peck on the cheek as the bell rang, signaling it was time to head back to class. What Adrien didn’t know was that Lila had been on the verge of dumping him before he revealed his scarlet shelled alter ego and renewed her interest tenfold.

The habitual liar had only pursued him in the first place for two reasons, to get a connection to the rich and successful Gabriel Argeste, and to steal him away from Chloe and secure her place at the top of the school’s social scene. The blondie was attractive, sure, but Lila fancied herself able to have any man she wanted. With Chloe gone, who knows where, and Gabriel in jail, she was prepared to trade up for less damaged goods; then Adrien told her he was Bug Boy.

She leaned against his arm and smiled up sweetly at him as they walked through the hallway together. Ever since she’d learned about the two heroes who had become the darlings of Paris, she’d wanted to manufacture a connection to them she could exploit. The closest she’d come with Lady Noire had been co-opting Alya, who had a dedicated fan site and actually had met the heroine, but now she was dating the real Bug Boy. She wasn’t in love with him, despite often saying so, but she did love the feeling of power that came from having him under her thrall.

Arriving in Monsieur Clemont’s class just before they’d be late, the couple had to separate to take their assigned seats. Lila sat between her ‘best friend’ Alya and the annoying as hell Juleka who stared her usual daggers at her as Monsieur Clemont called roll.

Lila’s triumphant total control of the class had slipped somewhat since the Wayne revelation. Her latest lie about Mari continuing to be a horrible liar herself who turned her hypothetical friend Stephie Wayne against Lila had worked for the most part, but there was a small contingent of students who had formed a new anti-Rossi camp. ‘ No doubt, if she hadn’t turned tail and run from the city over the shame of her father’s impeachment, Chloe would be crowing like a rooster.’

 Juleka, Alix, Sabrina and Nino all no longer trusted Lila, if they ever truly had, and had become a somewhat isolated self-contained little group from the class and the school at large, who still bought Lila’s lies hook line and sinker. It actually put a certain amount of strain on Juleka and Nino’s relationships, as their partners, Rose and Alya, were still definitively in Lila’s camp. ‘ I actually think I could get Rose to dump Couffaine if I pushed a bit. Wouldn’t that be delicious?’ Lila mused to herself. 

As much joy as she got from being the center of attention and ruling the school with a manicured iron fist, there were other things weighing on the ambassador’s daughter’s mind as the teacher began his morning lecture. Specifically, the Miraculous, the apparent source of Lady Noire and Bug Boy’s powers that Adrien had revealed to her, and something Lila had instantly wanted for herself.

She always wanted, needed to be the most special person in the room, and coveted the potential of magical superpowers for herself. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so easy; apparently when the Justice League swooped in, they took and hid away the majority of the magical jewelry, putting it well out of Lila’s reach. She occasionally considered just stealing the Tikki earrings from Adrien, but since they were apparently ‘bonded’ or whatever, decided that was overplaying her hand.

Stealing the Cat Miraculous to become the new Lady Noire would have been ideal, but the black cat heroine had also decamped for the states. Lila was actually a bit suspicious of the timing of both Marinette and Lady Noire relocating to Gotham and had begun to theorize the two were one and the same. It would have explained why Dupain-Cheng had pushed back so hard on Lila’s false claims of friendship with the vigilante. However, a recent news report from the Gotham Gazette showed Lady Noire swinging in to rescue the newest Wayne heiress when that clumsy oaf Marinette stumbled off a roof.

(Lila was of course unaware that the entire event had been staged the previous week. Marinette and Rose, Blackthorne not Lavillant, were supposedly playing catch with a frisbee on the roof of the Blackthorne’s building, and Marinette ostensibly tumbled over the edge foolishly rushing to catch a long throw. Harper was in the Lady Noire costume ready to catch her, and J’onn J’onzz played the helpful bystander who snapped a picture of the rescue to sell to the papers.)

The thorn in her side getting embarrassed was always gratifying, but it did pop a massive hole in Lila’s theory. ‘ I mean, Marinette’s such a wimp and a rule following teacher’s pet, there was no chance she could have been Lady Noire’

Still, Lila desperately wanted some of that power for herself. Or at least, some kind of power. Which led her to the offer she’d been considering in the back of her mind for the last few days. It was high risk, but the reward…

Bethany Snow was someone Lila had met a handful of times at diplomatic functions her mother attended. The American was an anchor and reporter for GBS news, assigned to their European branch a few years ago, and thus a mildly prominent public figure. Honestly Lila hadn’t given her a second thought, but apparently Bethany had taken her own interest in her.

The older woman had approached her at a small party held at the Italian embassy over the weekend to celebrate their national football team making it into the World Cup preliminaries. Lila had been annoyed to be pulled aside, but then intrigued by what the reporter had proposed. 

According to her she was part of some sort of clandestine organization that had taken an interest in Lila. They apparently owned a company called Meta Solutions dedicated to turning superpowers into a sellable product and kept their eyes open for young people with potential. If Lila was interested, Snow’s organization, called Honeycomb or something like that, could get her included in a new trial, and even provide some training with whatever abilities they were able to give her.

It was an enticing, tantalizing idea, but one with drawbacks. She’d have to leave Paris, at least for a time to undergo the procedure, and then there was the vagueness of what exact powers she’d get from it. ‘ Stealing the Cat Miraculous would have been so much cleaner,’ she moped as she got her test passed back to her. It was a perfect score, just like Alya’s, who she’d copied from.

She twisted a strand of brunette hair with her finger. She relished being on top at Francois Dupont, but perhaps this was a battle she’d already won. If she could gain abilities and become Bug Boy’s new partner, why, she’d have far more attention than a measly single class could provide. ‘ Besides, I have most of them so far under my spell, it will be child’s play to reassert control upon my return,’ she decided. It was time to take a little trip to Zandia for some self-improvement .

Sneaking out her phone she shot a message to Ms. Snow.

LILA ROSSI: I’m in, set up the procedure.

+++++------++++---

Gotham, Late September

September meant the start of the school year in Gotham, and that was just as important to Dick as it was to his younger siblings, considering by day Dick worked as a math teacher and gymnastics coach. He’d always liked educating and training others, from his early days with other circus kids, to his siblings, to the Titans, and teaching had felt like a natural fit. It probably helped that he had what Babs called “big team mom” energy (or as Jason put it, he was a bit of a mother hen).

Unlike his siblings though, he had not returned to the private Gotham Academy this Fall, though he had attended it when he was younger. Instead, he taught at a public school, Dennis O’Neil High, in downtown Gotham. It wasn’t exactly the place people expected the eldest child of one of the wealthiest couples in Gotham to end up, but it was where he wanted to be. He liked feeling he could make a difference in his civilian life just as much as he could under the mask.

Of course there were challenges a plenty at O’Neil High. Even after a mysterious Wayne Foundation grant had shown up to help augment the school’s inadequate funding, resources were stretched a bit thin. His students were a bunch of good kids and he wanted to support them as much as the school was able to.

That said, it was frustrating to him how little his colleagues made for the work they did. Not everyone had a trust fund like Dick, and frankly many of those who did weren’t teaching in inner-city schools. At the end of the day teachers were the backbone of the education system. It was part of why the Wayne Foundation’s major educational push, beyond scholarships for students, was a stipend directly accessible to educators, as opposed to the flashier technology grants or new facilities. Unfortunately, that kind of private charity was only a band aid, and Dick knew the real solution would require cutting through the graft and corruption that, despite improvements over the last ten years, was still endemic to Gotham.

Dick shook his head before he got caught up thinking about a perennial gripe and focused back on the situation at hand. He was currently in his Nightwing costume, huddled atop a rooftop as he lay in wait for his latest quarry. A personal case had fallen into his lap and had his full attention.

It had only been a few weeks into the school year when the trouble reared its head. O’Neil High’s football team had a blistering start to their season, absolutely demolishing the opposing teams, but the behavior of some of the players was troubling to Dick. Teens would be teens, so some amount of hormones and ego were expected, but Dick had been handing out detentions left and right because of aggressive behavior to members of the team. It hadn’t taken long for his paranoid mind to start seeing a pattern.

In particular there was a student in one of his classes, Mason Forrest, who was behaving very erratically. He’d had the kid for geometry a year back, and the difference between then and now was night and day. While a lot of things could change a person’s personality, Dick was experienced enough to swiftly surmise drug trouble as the most likely cause, and with a little digging, realized it was steroids of some sort.

A little light sleuthing, trailing some of the players, dropping a micro bug on Mason’s letterman jacket, and so on, had helped him figure out pretty quickly that at least half a dozen players on the team were using some sort of steroid and stimulant they referred to as Slappers. Dick had even managed to snag a discarded one, which just appeared like a white medicinal patch, from the trash after one of the players tossed it. Batman was currently analyzing it back in the cave to get the exact chemical breakdown, and also using it as a chance to teach his little sisters and Damian a lesson in forensic chemistry. 

Frankly, as a teacher, Dick had enough he could have just taken it to the principal or the police at this point, but that would only get the kids sent to juvie. While they absolutely shouldn’t be using these Slappers, Dick understood the pressure they likely felt to do so; for a lot of kids in his district a scholarship was the only way they were going to be able to go to college, and quite a few of the players were likely pushing hard to earn an athletic one.

No, someone was peddling this stuff and Dick wanted the guy at the top.

Unfortunately, it was taking a while, considering their stakeout was entering its third hour, something he could tell was beginning to irk his partner despite the distance between them.

“<Have patience>” Dick signed over to ‘Flamebird’ who was crouched on the roof across the alley from him. “<We need to find the supplier>.” It had been a hard lesson learned in his early days as Robin that you couldn’t just leap into the fray at the first sign of a crime all the time. Sometimes you needed to play it cool if you wanted to catch the big fish that actually ran things, rather than petty thugs. In this case that meant not going after the dealer immediately, and instead tailing him in hopes of traveling up the supply chain to the source of the steroid patches.

It wasn’t actually Flamebird, but rather Troia wearing her sister’s costume and a wig. Dick could tell the difference easily enough, Donna was slightly taller with somewhat broader shoulders and a larger chest, but that was largely due to his familiarity with his cousins. Under the uniform, pretty much everyone else would only see Flamebird.

Occasionally wearing each other's costumes was a longstanding tactic the Batfamily used to keep people off the scent of their secret identities, but the Kane side tended to do it a bit more regularly. This was largely because Donna and Sandra’s heroic identities were connected to Diana’s, and they didn’t advertise that Wonder Woman lived in Gotham. (Diana was already a public hero when she and Kate got together, and they hadn’t wanted Diana moving to Gotham to be connected with Wonder Woman suddenly showing up in the same city.) So, when Donna, Diana or Sandra wanted to patrol Gotham, they tended to borrow a costume from a family member who was on the bench that night. 

Of course, in an emergency all three would happily jump into the fray in their Amazonian garb, but outside of that they tried to not have too many Wonder sightings in Gotham, again to help preserve the whole family’s secret identities. They’d debated making alternate Bat or Bird identities for the three, but generally the current situation worked well enough, and the Wonders were needed to help patrol other cities via Zeta much of the time anyway.

Finally, as the sun fully dipped below the horizon, the dealer they’d tailed to a small flophouse in the Bowery, reemerged back onto the street, and he wasn’t alone. A shifty looking older guy with a scraggly salt and pepper beard was with him; based off of the conversation inside the drug den Donna and Dick had been listening into over the bug they’d slipped on the dealer, a younger dark haired man called Reggie, this new guy was being brought into the Slapper distribution network and the pair were on their way to introduce him to the supplier. All the cousins needed to do now was follow to land the big fish.

It didn’t take too long; the masked heroes were careful to keep out of sight as they shadowed the criminals, hopping from rooftop to rooftop as they wound their way through Gotham’s urban jungle. Eventually they arrived at the apparent destination, the Gotham Docks, specifically a dilapidated boat house built for storing a few dozen smaller craft, dinghies, punts and the like.

‘ Though it would seem it’s been repurposed for a new function,’ Dick thought as the criminals looked over their shoulders before ducking inside the building. It wasn’t the worst place to set up a covert distribution hub, the kind of boring little building most people wouldn’t give a second thought, well away from prying eyes. 

“<Ready to take them?>” Donna flashed via hand signs over to Dick. The building was small enough there shouldn’t be too many potential opponents inside. This was probably their best chance to catch the local supplier and ask some pointed questions in the Bat fashion.

Dick nodded, and the two Titans began their approach in automatic sync. There were two entrances to the building, one street side and another opening onto the water for bringing boats in. Since Donna could fly, she’d enter from the seaport, floating above the water to burst in that way without making any kind of splash that could alert their prey. Nightwing would bust through the front door; it wasn’t his preferred approach, but without any windows or easily accessible ventilation, it would have to do.

Using the thermal imaging in his mask, he identified five individuals inside, the two dealers and three others who had been in the building ahead of time. Based on their body language, the two dealers were talking to the seated boss, while two bodyguard or underling types hung out further back in the boathouse, nearer the water facing entrance.

Pulling a small plastic explosive from his utility belt, Nightwing carefully placed it on the peeling whitewashed door of the boathouse. It wasn’t enough to badly injure the men inside, but it would give him his entrance and ring their bells enough for them to have the advantage.

Donna signaled with a click over comms that she was in position and the pair launched into action. Dick flicked a button on his belt, BOOM!, the door exploded inward with Nightwing leaping in right after. He tossed a bola at Reggie, who was coughing on the smoke, binding his ankles and sending him to the ground, before tossing an electrified Batarang at the new bearded dealer, stunning him and sending him twitching to the ground.

Farther in, partially obscured by a row of old rowboats, he could tell Donna had engaged the two suspected enforcers, though it was taking her longer to dispatch them than he would have expected. He couldn’t focus on that, as the presumed boss was still there and demanding his full attention.

“You picked the wrong guy to mess with, birdbrain,” the man growled. He was a beef slab of a man, well over six feet and built like a brickhouse. He wore only a stained white tank top and a pair of black bike shorts. His muscles bulged like crazy, though Dick assumed that wasn’t entirely natural if the Slapper shaped discoloration marks on his arms were any thing to go with, especially considering the man slapped two of the white patches down as he stepped forward to confront Nightwing.

They fell into the dance of combat and Dick felt like he was on the backfoot. It wasn’t that the guy was a particularly skilled martial artist or anything like that, but more that he felt his own jabs and kicks weren’t making an impact. He was used to taking down musclebound bruisers, but when jabbing his electrified escrima stick into the guy’s gut barely seemed to slow him down, he began to worry a little bit.

“Nightwing, Code: Yellow, possibly Code: Black,” his pa’s voice suddenly buzzed in Dick’s earpiece as he dodged the thug’s fist, only to see it make a small crater in the cinderblock wall behind him. “The Slappers are a Venom variant, expect meta-level enhanced strength opponents and the possibility of Bane’s involvement.” Bruce’s voice was as taciturn as ever when under the cowl, but Dick could hear the worry in it, even if he couldn’t do anything about it as he focused on dodging his opponent’s Venom enhanced blows. 

‘ Well, that explains some things,’ Nightwing thought as he somersaulted around a right hook that splintered the end of one of the rowboats. Donna had Amazonian super strength, and he’d been confused why her fight with what he’d thought would be mundane criminals was taking a little while. Unlike conventional steroids, Venom could boost a normal human’s strength into the meta range and was consequently a serious issue if it was returning to Gotham.

Of course, Dick had been tangling with superpowered opponents since he was a teenager, and a mook with Venom enhancements was a surprise but not something he couldn’t handle. He took his time, careful to avoid taking a hit, but eventually he managed to tire the criminal out to the point he could catch his leg and send him tumbling to the floor. After that he was able to fully subdue him by tagging him with a tranq dart retrieved from his belt, the powerful sedative warring with the Venom high until the guy fell unconscious.

“Ah, I see you have yours handled,” Donna noted as she rejoined him, two unconscious toughs Dick assumed had also been Venom enhanced slung over her shoulders. Venom enhanced strength but it didn’t make you a match for Troia.

Not everyone who used the Santa Priscian drug became as strong as Bane. The deadly crime boss had his surgically implanted delivery system that pumped way more of the drug into his system than could be done conventionally, was already incredibly strong before he’d started using the substance and used a much higher end variant than what normally ended up on the streets. Add to that the fact Dick suspected these Slappers were a milder variant of the drug, and you could understand why it hadn’t been enough to do more than slightly slow the cousins down.

Dick tapped his comm, “No need to come to the rescue, Batman. Flamebird and I have the suspects subdued and will contact Gotham PD after a little questioning.” Nightwing knew his adoptive father and suspected he had abandoned the chemistry lesson in the cave to fly to their aid. “No sign of Bane, or any obvious Santa Priscian connection. Obviously, they’re likely to be involved somewhere along the line considering we’re talking about Venom, but there’s no immediate danger.”

Bane was one of those villains the Batfamily took very seriously, though it actually tended to be the others being protective of Bruce when he came up. No one wanted to see another Bat broken.

“Understood,” Batman replied, “appraise me of the investigation as it progresses. Since Bane returned to Santa Priscia following our previous confrontation, he’s shied away from Gotham and according to the commissioner, Venom sources dried up quickly in the city. If a new supply is coming in, it could be a prelude to Bane and his syndicate trying to make a play for Gotham again.”

“And that’s the last thing we need,” Dick muttered in agreement while Donna tied up the downed thugs, temporarily gagging Reggie who was the only one still conscious. The streets of Gotham were getting dangerous enough over the last few months with the escalating gang war between the new Red Hood and Black Mask. A third major player trying to take over crime in the city would be pouring jet fuel on an already deadly fire.  

The two Titans began their investigation of the dock house, careful not to disturb anything ahead of the official GCPD investigation that would happen after Bullock sent some uniforms over to the commotion. Nightwing frowned a little as it quickly became obvious this was just a minor drop house, not a real base of operations, and none of the criminals they’d captured were the big fish in charge. This investigation was going to take a while.

‘ At least we got the dealer supplying my school,’ he thought to himself. ‘ Mr. Grayson will still have to have a chat with the team, and maybe get some counselors involved, but hopefully this new drug ring isn’t established enough that another source of Venom based steroids is readily available. With any luck I can steer them towards treatment, and then catch whoever’s shipping this junk into my city, so no other kids end up hooked.’

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The Real Sidekicks of Mount Justice (Young Justice Group Chat):

SPEEDY GONZALES JR: Hey Raptor, can I come hang at your place tonight? Flash and Max are being a bunch of atomic bores, and I wanna get out of the house.

1. SURGE: Dude, you have to learn to text people direct instead of always blowing up the group. I don’t need this pinging while I’m trying to cram for a math test. 

Lt. SURGE: Sidenote, I hate calculus

BULLSEYE: Especially considering not everyone knows where Rob lives.

ARMORED INSECT: Or what his real name is. Cause he’s a cabron.

ROBIN THE THIRD: Yeah, you can come over Impulse. Just give me an hour to wrap up some research I’m doing. 

ROBIN THE THIRD: AND I MEAN AN HOUR THIS TIME!

SPEEDY GONZALES JR: WHOOO! SLEEPOVER AT THE BAT PAD!!! SB, you in?!?

BOY OF STEEL: Hell yeah, I just have to walk Krypto then I’ll head over.

THE BLONDE WONDER: Sweet, I’ll swing through after I finish my patrol.

SPEEDY GONZALES JR: AWESOME!!! Wondy’s on board, what about you MM? Party at Rob’s place?

ROBIN THE THIRD: Whoa, when did I say everyone could swarm my house, or that any of you could stay the night?

BULLSEYE: Also, I get that it’s because Rob and BG are paranoiacs about their secret identities, but it’s kinda rude to make plans in front of the rest of us that we’re not invited to.

ARMORED INSECT: More like super rude.

KAL’DURHAM: It is somewhat inconsiderate.

MARVINELLA: Thanks for the offer, Impulse, but I’m busy tonight.

ROBIN THE THIRD: This is Batgirl. I’ve co-opted Raptor’s phone since you guys are giving him a conniption fit. Impulse, you can come over for dinner and hang out after but you need to run back to Max’s after. You know he’ll be mad if you don’t go to bed on time on a school night. Superboy, same offer for you. Wondergirl, well, you basically half-live here anyway so do whatever the hell you want.

ROBIN THE THIRD: Also yes, this was very rude Impulse. I know the extra caution we take with our identities can seem overly safe, but you’ve all sat through enough briefings on op-sec to know the fewer people know a secret, the better chance it has of staying one. I’ll reiterate that the members of the Team privy to that information are privy due to their mentors already knowing, and not due to any judgment or lack of trust directed towards the rest of the team.

ROCKET POWER: Wow, you know you fucked up when Batgirl has to be the mature one.

SPEEDY GONZALEZ JR: Sowwy!

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Justice League Moon Base, Early October 

Ryan Choi still had to resist the urge to gawk every time he passed a viewing port at the Justice League’s headquarters. ‘ Sure, everything’s supposed to get routine with time, but we’re still on the FREAKING MOON’, he thought to himself. It was surreal for the young scientist, and not something he thought he was going to get over any time soon.

The newest Atom didn’t think he was going to get over any of the remarkable changes to his life in the last handful of months anytime soon, really. He’d gone from a doctoral student, his biggest concerns being polishing his thesis, to standing side by side with the superheroes who defended his planet almost overnight. He was still concerned about his thesis as it was, but now he had quite a bit else on his mind.

It all happened after his Doctoral advisor, Dr. Ray Palmer, accidentally shrunk himself into a petri dish with no way to regrow to normal size and managed to get a signal to Ryan in the adjoining lab. Before he knew it, he’d discovered his teacher was the Atom, and he was donning the hero’s spare bio-belt and shrinking down to embark on the adventure of a lifetime to rescue Ray.

The final surprise had occurred a week after the two men had managed to escape the microscopic dimension Ray had gotten stuck in. Apparently, Dr. Palmer was really impressed with how Ryan handled himself in the belt and looking to take a step back from heroics to work on things in his personal life, at least for a time; he offered to mentor Ryan and let him take on the Atom name, something he’d accepted.

Which was what led him to here, the Justice League’s moon base, desperately trying to act like he belonged there. It was his third time at bat for monitor duty, and while most of the more veteran Leaguers viewed the job with annoyance, it was still pretty novel for the newbie and he was focused on doing a good job.

“Oh hey, I thought Green Arrow had the shift before me?” Atom said in surprise when he walked up to the Monitor Womb to discover Captain Atom unexpectedly sitting in the chair.

The silver skinned hero, whose body was actually an energy containment suit in the shape of a man that held his energy-being self together, grinned as he stood up. “Oh, he asked me to cover for him. Apparently, there’s some broad he’s trying to nail and he had a hot date tonight.”

Ryan smiled back a little uneasily. He had a hard time getting a read on the hero he shared half a name with. Sometimes Captain Atom seemed really by the book and straitlaced, but other times when he relaxed a bit he could be, well, a bit crude. ‘ I guess that’s not that weird for an Army guy, polite in formal situations but a blue sense of humor when hanging out with the guys’

“Well, that was nice of you to do,” Ryan replied as he stepped forward to take over the chair; one perk of following Atom, who had full control of his energy and no ambient body heat, was that the chair wasn’t literally warm.

Captain Atom gave a little salute, “yes siree, you can always count on good ol’ Captain Atom. I’m gonna go hit the hay in my room before I zeta back down to the planet. Don’t have too much fun.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Ryan replied as the other Leaguer left and he turned his attention to the Monitor. Monitor duty was a bit more complicated than how it was often derisively described as sitting by the phone and watching the news. The Justice League wasn't a surveillance state, and respected the law and people’s right to privacy, but the originally White Martian built base had a whole host of monitoring equipment to help them catch disasters early.

They had every kind of meter you could imagine, to detect spikes in radiation, tremors in the earth caused by quakes or eruptions, and on and on, not to mention all the systems they had pointing away from earth to track incoming threats from beyond the stars. The system was also plugged into a dozen different cooperating United Nations databases, and all the major news outlets. 

That meant there was a lot of information, too much for anyone not called Flash to process on their own; so, they didn’t. There was a good bit of automation included, but more than that, a whole staff of administrators who helped keep things running smoothly. Indeed, in addition to the heroes who frequented it, there were over a hundred civilian support staff on the base at any given moment, credentialed by the UN. There were layers upon layers of security, with the staff not being able to disclose publicly that they worked for the JL, but they were an essential part of keeping the complex operation the Justice League had become running.

A solid chunk of that staff was dedicated to generating reports on developing situations and answering the many, many calls the Justice League got for assistance. It was a simple reality that they needed a system of trained professionals to weed out what needed to rise to the level of League attention. All that work resulted in a more condensed stream of information that was relayed to the Leaguer who sat in the Monitor Womb’s chair.

Today, thankfully seemed light on the Crises so far. Ray saw Hawkwoman and Hawkman were helping evacuate people from a building collapse in Tongo, but the pair seemed to have it well in hand along with local authorities. There were mass protests in Greece over something or other, but it was both peaceful and a domestic matter, nothing for the Justice League to get involved with. The only thing that caught his attention as it flashed across his feed was the sensor he understood the least pinging off a location in the Mediterranean.

In addition to all the hi-tech gear, Silver Sorceress, the League’s main resource for all things mystic, had installed some sort of weird voodoo thingamabob that was monitored by an actual camera and the results fed into the feed. Ryan was a man of science, and had no clue what it was exactly, or how in the heck it worked. In any event it was showing mildly rising levels of something on some island he’d never heard of.

‘ I mean, it’s only a yellow alert, no klaxons are ringing’ he thought to himself. Still, even if he didn’t need to raise the alarm, this might be a thing that needed looking into. The only problem was that Silver Sorceress was on indefinite hiatus, meaning he didn’t exactly know who to ask about it. Doctor Fate would be the other option, but no one had been able to get ahold of the helmeted magic user in a couple of months, though he’d been assured that wasn’t unheard of with the guy.

He settled for dropping a message in Silver Sorceress’s inbox for whenever she came back, pausing before copying Wonder Woman on it at the last moment. WW might not be a magic user per se, but she was maybe close enough?

Shrugging, he went back to watching the monitors, blissfully unaware of what exactly was brewing in the tiny nation of Zandia down below.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Barbara and Dinah’s Apartment, After the Surgery, Mid-October

Babs grunted in frustration as she struggled to cross the mere five feet of the railed walkway that had been set up on the floor of her living room. She was starting on her physical therapy and had each rail in a death grip with her hands as she strained to make her legs move after so long.

“C’mon, babe, you can do it. Just one more set,” Dinah said, encouragingly. She wasn’t Babs’ assigned PT, but as a trained therapist herself, she was imminently qualified to help her fiancé complete the exercises she was supposed to be doing daily on her own. Or, as she suspected the case would be with her favorite workaholic redhead, make sure she didn’t overdo it.

Taking a lot longer than she would have liked, Babs finally managed to make it to the other side, even if her arms were taking most of the load. She was encouraged that she was getting some movement out of her lower body, more than she’d been able to voluntarily in years, but she was still impatient.

Her back ached from the surgery and her scars were still healing from the implant. It was a good thing her wedding dress wasn’t going to be backless like Dinah’s, since they’d probably still be quite evident by the time the wedding arrived. That was the looming deadline she was working against; the idea of being able to have Bruce walk her down the aisle on her own two feet, and share at least one dance with Dinah was what convinced her to go through with this in the first place and she’d be damned if she couldn’t get to the point she was able to do those things before the big day in January.

Dinah helped her over to the couch and Babs let out a groan of mixed pain and relief as she relaxed against her fiance. “I’m not getting anywhere with this.”

Dinah gave her a flat look, “babe, it’s been a week since you got out of the hospital. These things take time and you’re honestly making remarkable progress. I didn’t think we’d work up to the bars for another week at least and you just managed it three times.”

Barbara scoffed, “with my arms doing most of the work.” Her upper body was quite fit from regular exercise with the chair, and the pickup wheelchair basketball league she played in from time to time. She sighed, “I just, I want this to work, you know?”

The blonde smiled down gently at her. Barbara was as fierce as they came and rarely showed moments of vulnerability. Dinah always took it as a gift that she was willing to do so with her. “It is working, sweetie. Now, c’mon, let’s turn on something dumb to watch, and take a moment to unwind before you have to hop on the computer to help your brother with tracking those shipping manifests.” They were still trying to figure out how the Venom variant Dick had discovered was getting into the city, and narrowed it down to by sea, which meant a smuggling operation for Oracle to help ferret out.

Barbara hummed in agreement, grabbing the remote to flick on the season finale of Maddie In Metropolis. Darci Mason’s, an actress Babs had actually met at a gala or two, romantic comedy show wasn’t prestige television but it was a kind of mindless fun they could have on in the background while they enjoyed some time together. 

A beep sounded from Dinah’s purse, discarded on the coffee table, and she leaned forward to fish out her phone, before looking at it and grimacing. Babs raised an eyebrow, “trouble?”

“Ugh, no,” Dinah replied, putting her phone down. “It’s just my mom, she’s dating this new guy, some sort of suave playboy type and I’m guessing a public figure since she’s being cagey on the name. She’s in her gushy mode and I can only hear so much about my mother’s love life before I need to check out.” Dinah’s parents had divorced when she was only four, and she’d long since gotten used to her mom’s rotating suite of suitors.

“Does she want to use her plus one after all?” Babs asked, her eye twitching at the thought of reworking the byzantine seating chart yet again.

Dinah shook her head, “thankfully no, she said she didn’t need to. She seems serious about this guy, well as serious as she ever is, but when I asked, she told me she was good. Maybe he has some conflict on the day; it’s probably for the best, considering two of her exes are already going to be there and I’d like to avoid the Laurel Lance fireworks as much as possible.”

Dinah’s mother Laurel had been the third Black Canary, just as Dinah was the fourth. It was a legacy that went all the way back to her great grandmother, a founding member of the Justice Society and a heroine back in the forties. Laurel had been every bit the hero her daughter and mother were when she’d worn the costume, but she was also a somewhat flighty woman in her personal life and a bit of a headache at times for Dinah.

The exes in question were Dinah’s father Quentin, naturally, but also another longtime member of the Justice Society, Wildcat. It was awkward, she still had a good relationship with her former stepfather, her mom’s second husband, and he had even been the one to train her in martial arts but things were even more strained between him and Laurel than they were with her dad Quentin, unbelievably. In the end it was probably for the best that she wasn’t bringing along whomever this new boytoy of hers was, just to cut down on the drama.

“Hey, I’ll take your mom’s dating drama over one of the countless powder kegs on my side of the aisle blowing up,” Barbara opined. “Commissioner Bullock is apparently using his plus one to invite ex-detective Renee Montoya along as a friend, so I guess my aunt’s ex-girlfriend is coming to the wedding. I’m going to have stress dreams about Auntie Diana challenging her to an honor duel.”

Black Canary laughed, “oh c’mon, your aunt isn’t the jealous type. I’d be more worried about Vicky Vale sneaking in for a scoop and your mom clawing her eyes out.” 

If the thought stressed Babs, she didn’t show it, just smiling dopily over at Dinah. “Hey, guess what? We’re getting married.” It still felt unreal to the redhead that she could have found someone as perfect as Dinah, who cared as much as the blonde constantly showed she did.

“We’re getting married,” Dinah agreed, smiling back at her. Their lives were hectic, Bab’s road to recovery was still long and winding, and all the wedding planning was making fighting Apokolips’ hordes seem easy, but with Bab’s by her side, she felt like there was nothing they couldn’t conquer.

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Coast City, California, Day Before Halloween, Thirteen Residence

“Damn it,” Traci Thirteen muttered as she shook the last oatmeal packet out of the box. After she cooked it, she was officially going to be out of food. And out of money. And, if she had to guess, dangerously close to being kicked out of the little apartment that sat over her father’s private eye office, an office that had been empty for two months at this point.

Her father, the occult investigator and debunker Dr. Thirteen, disappearing without warning was unfortunately not an uncommon experience for Traci. Sometimes he’d remember to arrange some sort of supervision for her, but she remembered being left to her own devices for days at a time when she was as young as 8, an experience that made her fairly self-reliant. 

She didn’t think it was active malice from her paternal figure, though they had more than their fair share of conflict when he actually was there, but just that he forgot about her when it wasn’t convenient. He loved adventure and often leaped into things feet first, the fact that he had a kid at home he should probably tell he was going to be going away for a while slipping his mind frequently.

The fifteen-year-old ran her fingers through her long thick dark hair and stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what she should do. She’d learned to take care of herself, but Terrance had been gone longer than he ever had before without at least eventually checking in, and there were certain things she couldn’t do. She could catch the bus to school and keep the house decently, but she had no access to the family funds and thus couldn’t refill the dwindling pantry, hence her mounting current dilemma.

“Also, not sure how behind he is on rent right now,” she added absently. While he’d been quite successful in his heyday as a popular debunker, her often absent father’s star had fallen over time and she knew money was tight when he couldn’t get cases. Of course, a big part of that was his resistance to taking any case he didn’t find sufficiently interesting, but Traci had never been able to successfully argue that point with him.

So, without any money, and not knowing when the landlord was going to come knocking, she was considering her options. She’d tried every way she could think of to contact him, calling him, calling the burner phone he thought she didn’t know about; hell, she even tried the communication spell Zee had taught her even though she knew he’d hate the reminder of her magical nature, but to no avail.

All she had to go on was a hastily scribbled note she’d found two months ago saying he was hired by some widow to investigate why a developer, who after a bit of digging appeared to be a Lexcorp subsidiary, was trying to buy up a house she inherited from her late husband’s family. The fact that the bayou house was supposedly haunted had been the angle that got Dr. Thirteen interested enough to look into it, and left Traci with no more information, other than the fact that he'd run off to Louisiana and would be gone for ‘some time’.

No address for where he was going to be staying, no emergency contact, nothing but an assumption she could take care of herself for however long he was gone. In the pit of her stomach, she was seriously beginning to worry he’d bitten off more than he could chew and that’s why he still wasn’t back.

Traci pulled the pot of oatmeal from the stove before it could burn and set about pouring her last bowl. A quick whispered “Dloc” chilled it off enough for her to eat it right away without burning her tongue. It still felt weird to do magic in the home, and she found herself looking over her shoulder for a reprimand that wasn’t coming. 

The half-Asian girl didn’t have the best relationship with her father. Okay, she had a pretty crappy one, but she was still worried about him. He cared about her in his own way, at least enough to set strict rules for her when he was around, and it was hard to have no affection for the only parent you’d ever known. Her mother, a sorceress and a friend of her mentor Zatanna, had passed before she was old enough to really form memories, something she always regretted.

Zatanna was the obvious person to call in this situation. Her father may have put harsh limits on how much the older witch could be a part of Traci’s life, but he wasn’t exactly around to enforce them and Traci knew the magician would be willing to help her. Unfortunately, all her communication attempts with Zee were failing too.

Her teacher had at least been considerate enough to let Traci know she was going to be gone for some time, apparently quite literally going to another dimension, which sounded incredibly cool to Traci at the time. ‘ I mean Zee said she wasn’t sure how long it would take, but I really thought she’d be back by now’ . She was as worried for Zee’s safety as she was for her father’s but she had a bit more trust in Zatanna’s judgment to not get in over her head.

Outside the window there was a brief green flash as Green Lantern flew by the window, all bright and shiny. Coast City was theoretically his home base, but given how often he was in space, it was actually somewhat remarkable to see him in town. Of course, there were like 20 other Green Lanterns you saw from time to time, so you never knew which one you were going to get. She thought it was Domino Mask, the first GL of the current crop, but she hadn’t been looking closely when he passed.

“I guess I could call the Justice League,” she thought aloud. She didn’t really know how you did that, but Zee was part of the superhero team, and they might be able to contact her when Traci couldn’t. On the other hand, she didn’t really have a way to prove her connection to Silver Sorceress without blowing Zee’s secret identity, and she wasn’t going to do that.

Actually, there was someone else she could try calling for help. Her father didn’t exactly make friends, but he had one colleague he’d worked with frequently enough that Traci knew him and thought it possible he’d be willing to help. At the very least he may be willing to let her borrow some food or crash at his place until she managed to reconnect with either her father or Zee. (The fact that her father’s effective abandonment of her would be a matter Child Services would want to intervene in, hadn’t occurred to the girl.)

Finishing her oatmeal, she grabbed her phone and threw on her favorite purple hoodie, before heading downstairs. Her father left his office locked, but an unlocking spell had literally been the first thing Zatanna had taught her, and one of the handful Traci could do confidently. The older witch may have intended it to help her pop out of handcuffs as an escapologist, but it was useful in all sorts of situations.

She strode quickly through the dusty office, trying not to dwell on the empty chair at her father’s desk. Dr. Thirteen, for all his hatred of the occult, hadn’t exactly embraced modern technology either, so she found herself searching through an actual physical rolodex until she found the number.

Taking a deep breath, she dialed. It rang, and rang, and just as she was worried yet another avenue of assistance was going to be a dead end, the line picked up.

“Uh hello, Detective Chimp? This is Traci Thirteen, Terrance’s kid. I think I need your help.”

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(Formerly Gotham) Sirens Chat (Selina, Harley, Ivy, Lois, Zatanna, Diana, Kate, Iris)

SUPERMOM: My sister is driving me crazy. I love her to death but, dear Rao, she has the worst taste in partners. Her latest boyfriend was even worse than the girl she dated before that. They just broke up and I’m struggling to not actively celebrate while I’m supposed to be her shoulder to cry on.

MAMA CAT: You should take her out on the town and get her to let loose. Metropolis may have a pitiful excuse for a nightlife compared to Gotham, but a night of partying for the Lane sisters is sure to have her forgetting what’s his face.

SUPERMOM: Selina, that’s just a recipe for her to make another awful hookup. I don’t want to hit a bar with her only to turn around and find her sucking face with the worst person in the place. Twice was enough.

PHD, BITCHES: No offense Lois, but you can’t really control who other people fall for. It’s just one of those things you put up with for the people you love. Like when your wife thinks it’s a good idea to adopt a dog without asking.

NOT THE MOTORCYCLE: Babe, I said I was sorry. He was just so cute, and Rose obviously got attached, and c’mon! Bruce let’s Selina bring home like fifty different pets.

PHD, BITCHES: Bruce and Selina live in a sprawling manor with more room than they know what to do with. We live in an apartment full of rare delicate plants that are already getting knocked over by the adorable mutt.

NOT THE MOTORCYCLE: HA you called her adorable, I win!!

SUPERMOM: I know, it’s just, she’s my baby sister, you know? I want her to be with someone who deserves her. Plus, she’s so smart in every other area, I don’t understand why her brain turns off when picking who to date. I’m also worried bad taste might run in our family considering my son is trying to woo the most obnoxious junior intern the Planet has ever had. 

MRS. FLASH: Hey, dating’s hard, sometimes you take what you can get. 

NOT THE MOTORCYCLE: I’m guessing the blind date didn’t work out last night, Iris?

MRS. FLASH: I know nobody I meet is going to be Barry, but it would be nice to connect with someone decent. Of course, with the twins, it’s extra complicated finding someone.

XENA: Iris, I have told you before I know of several steadfast warriors curious about man’s world who I could set you up with. Callista in particular would be a wonderful fit.

MRS. FLASH: Thanks Diana, but as I said last time, I’m 100% straight, so an Amazonian bride isn’t what I’m looking for.

THE BETTER BAT: Hey, don’t knock it till you try it. 

MRS. FLASH: Changing the subject, it’s been like forever since Zee’s chimed in. Is she really still on her mystic quest thingy?

THE BETTER BAT: Unfortunately, yes, considering the backlog of things needing her particular expertise. Bruce is beginning to be his worrywart self about it and if it takes much longer, I think he’s going to try to mount a rescue.

MAMA CAT: Which means either tracking down Dr. Fate, who’s also MIA, or having to deal with Constantine. We have literally hundreds of tech experts on speed dial, but finding warlocks you can trust is apparently nearly impossible. Magic is always the worst.

THE BETTER BAT: Says the woman whose newest child has a literal magical girl transformation button sitting on her ring finger at any given moment.

MAMA CAT: Whoa, hey, Mari OBVIOUSLY is the exception to magic sucking. Just like how we all agreed John is the exception to Green Lanterns kind of being jerks.

NOT THE MOTORCYCLE: Oh, I don’t know, Jessi’s not so bad.

MAMA CAT: She and Simon are new, so judgment’s still out on them.

PHD, BITCHES: Wait, so by your logic if there’s only one exception to these arbitrary rules of yours, if Mari is the exception to magic not sucking, you must have really had a falling out with Zee. And Isn’t Diana kind of magical?

MRS. FLASH: Ladies, stop giving Selina a hard time. You know she hates it when you pick apart her words just to mess with her. 

MAMA CAT: 😢 😡 💔

SUPERMOM: Okay, Lucy just somehow managed to open a second bottle of tequila when I wasn’t looking, so I’m going to sign off so I can keep an eye on her.

XENA: Wait, did Ivy say she and Harley got a dog?

MAMA CAT: Oh shit, she totally did! Ivy, Harley, we’re coming over to meet the puppy. Diana, I’ll pick you up on the way!

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Gotham City, Halloween Night

Halloween was always a tense affair in Gotham City, at least since the likes of Joker, Scarecrow and Mad Hatter burst onto the scene. And that was before you even considered Calendar Man and the Holiday killer. It only took a couple of mass fear gassings or haunted houses actually rigged to kill, to take some of the joy out of the holiday. 

That didn’t stop people from celebrating entirely, particularly among the younger generation; teens still had parties, and the suburban youth went trick or treating, but all night long those with longer memories would hold their breath. For the vigilantes who made the city their charge, it was to be a long night indeed.

Marinette flipped through her dark green utility belt pouches, double checking her equipment and making sure she was well supplied with gas pellets and batarangs. While it had been an adjustment, carrying more equipment than the magical staff created by the Miraculous, she was beginning to wonder how she’d ever lived without it. Indeed, she now wore an entirely mundane version of her Lady Noire outfit, woven from the same advanced semi-bullet proof, knife resistant, fireproof fibers as the rest of her family. It would be covered by her magical costume most of the time but was a reassuring fallback that made using Catastrophe a bit less risky.

“Hey Mari, look at all the work Cass put into her costume,” Harper snickered, passing her phone over to Mari. Her sister was already suited up in her Bluebird costume, sans the mask at the moment. Glancing over, Mari tried to suppress her own giggle when she saw an Instagram video of Cassandra at a Halloween party in Metropolis.

Unlike Gotham, the Big Apricot had no such complicated feelings about the holiday, and Cass was accompanying her girlfriend to a costume party at one of Kara’s friend’s places. In the video, taken by Kara’s friend Winn apparently, Cass and a red-faced Kara were just arriving. While Kara had gone somewhat traditional with a corpse bride costume, Cass had apparently decided to go as Supergirl, and unless Mari was mistaken, had just donned a blonde wig, and then literally stolen her girlfriend’s actual costume to do so.

“Okay, focus up everyone,” Barbara called from the raised platform bearing the main Bat Computer monitor, “tonight’s going to be a long one, so let’s get through the briefing as quickly as we can.” The hoodie wearing redhead instantly commanded the attention of the small horde of costumed or half-costumed heroes getting ready in the cave. Considering it was Halloween, the family was going to be out in force and only Cass, Duke, Ivy, Diana and Donna wouldn’t be patrolling or on standby. (Sandra, Wondergirl, was going to be borrowing the Black Bat costume tonight.)

Babs began running through the briefing, assigning patrol routes and going over known threats. Luckily most of the usual suspects for Halloween mayhem, Calendar Man and Scarecrow, were both in their Arkham cells, and Kate and Bette would be watching the island tonight for any breakout attempts. Most of the rest of the family were similarly paired off and assigned to patrol different areas of the city, with the exception of Bruce and Tim, who were going to be continuing their investigation into a series of disappearances in the Coventry District.

Privately Mari was impressed how focused Babs was on her work as Oracle, considering it had only been a few weeks since her surgery. Oracle had cut back her duties, letting other members of the family sub in as the guy or girl in the chair, but she wasn’t going to sit on the sidelines on Halloween. She’d been Batgirl during the year of the Long Halloween and remembered how quickly things could go south.

“-and if you run into trouble in the Bowery, Mockingbird and Lark are on standby at mini-cave theta,” Bab’s continued, earning a nod of acknowledgment from Jason and Harper who would be patrolling that area. “They’re going to stay in and stay rested for tomorrow if everything stays calm tonight, but if the shit hits the fan don’t hesitate to call them in for backup this time.” Barbara gave her brother and sister a pointed look before continuing, “Lady Noire and Robin, you’re back up for Nightwing tonight. Meta-level thugs have the potential to be in play, but most likely very low-level ones. Still, be careful, follow Nightwing’s lead, and if he makes the call for you to retreat, get clear immediately and return to the cave.”

Dick gave the twins a double thumbs up while Damian tsked at the threatened benching if things got too hot. Mari was a hair more concerned about the small but extant possibility of a major threat Barbara alluded to, but overall, she felt a twinge of pride that they were letting her tangle with something more serious, even if only working as part of a larger team.

Oracle finished and gave the nod to Batman, who had just donned his cowl, transforming from Bruce into the Dark Knight. He glowered down the table, instantly commanding a sense of gravity that had those members of the family still checking weapons and straightening their costumes snapping into sharp focus.

“Criminals, by nature, are a cowardly and superstitious lot,” Batman began, “and a night like Halloween brings out the worst of that superstition. Calendarman and Scarecrow may be accounted for, but they are far from the only villains who would want to take advantage of the holiday’s symbolism. New threats will always arise, and you need to be prepared for anything. Don’t underestimate them, don’t let your guard down, and don’t get sloppy.” He never raised his voice but the baritone warning sunk in for the younger members of the family.

Mari felt a comforting squeeze of her shoulder and turned to see Selina smiling down at her. The elder cat licked her thumb and pushed back a strand of Mari’s hair that had fallen loose from the simple pony it was in. (Her transformation made her hair grow and braid itself anyhow, so she mostly just tied it back to keep it out of her eyes.) “Don’t let Bruce stress you out, kitten; this should hopefully be a relatively quiet Halloween.”

Lady Noire grinned a little and nodded. Reading some of the disasters that had happened on previous Halloweens had perhaps stressed her out a little unconsciously, but she reminded herself it wasn’t a threat she had to face alone anymore.

, “... and remember if you get into trouble-” Selina drawled as the individual vigilantes broke and began to head for their chosen means of transportation into the City.

“You’re only an emergency comm away,” Mari finished for her. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gemworld, Same Time, Final Assault on Castle Opal

“For Amethyst!” one of Chloe’s comrades yelled seconds before an onyx crystal shard embedded itself in his throat, leaving him gurgling as his life bled out. She should be shocked, stricken with pain for the loss of a man she’d fought beside for close to a year, but in the moment all she could do was curse the idiot for breaking cover.

“Stick together,” Amethyst barked over the din of the battle. They were on the front line, trying to pull off Lady Emerald’s audacious hail kwami of a plan to storm Dark Opal’s capital and cut off the head of the snake while the bulk of his forces were ravaging their lands to the south.

Her unit, a squadron of veteran fighters led by her friend and bodyguard Lady Turquoise, had managed to breach the castle’s eastern wall by sneaking through the ancient sewer system. They’d burst forth in the fortress’s galley and were now engaged in fierce room to room fighting as they pushed deeper into the enemy stronghold. Chloe, or Amethyst or Amaya, or whatever they wanted to call her these days, had come a long way from being an absolute neophyte with her magic, helped along by a skilled mentor in Zatanna. While Lady Turquoise was an able second, this was Chloe’s unit and it was her duty to use her magic to defend them.

“Follow me on three,” Chloe commanded, “I’ll provide cover but we need to take the next hall quickly before they can dig in and mass their fire!”

Reaching deep within herself to the well spring of mystic power she had learned was her birthright, Amethyst pushed it outward until it snapped into place as a shimmering purple forcefield covering the hallway. On the count of three, her troops charged from around the corner, and she pushed the barrier forward as they advanced, feeling slight pulls on her energies every time it deflected an arrow, thrown weapon or, most draining, an attack by an enemy magic user. 

She dropped the shield at the last instant of the charge, allowing her forces to fall upon the enemy. In a brutal thirty seconds of fighting, they took the still scrambling forces of Dark Opal, who were no doubt rather surprised by the sudden attack, apart. As much as possible they tried to disable and restrain their enemies; they needed to show they were different from the cruel tyrannical foe they were opposing. 

While Chloe and her small unit were infiltrating from the east, Zatanna, along with Citrine, was leading her own flanking attack from the west. Their goal was to pincer the opposing forces by pushing them heavily on both flanks. The bulk of their forces were besieging the southern wall under the command of Lady Emerald, who was similarly tying down the majority of the defenders. The whole goal was to get Amethyst and as many other elite fighters as they could into the throne room to attack Opal and bring an end to the madness that had engulfed Gemworld for over a decade. 

“You doing okay, princess?” Turquoise asked as she pulled her crystal sword from the dissolving form of one of the Onyx golems that were supplementing the ranks of their opponents. The magical constructs formed a reinforced backbone for Opal's troops, fueled by some unknown great magic Opal had gotten a hold of before his coup, and only fell apart after taking serious damage. The assumption by the most skilled sorcerers on the side of the rebellion was that the artificial soldiers would cease to function if they could defeat Opal himself, which would suddenly flip the advantage towards the cause of House Amethyst and their allies across the realm.

Amaya let out a humorless life as her unit regrouped and prepared to hurry forward, plunging deeper into the evil fortress. “I’m fine, but don’t call me princess.” She wasn’t entirely comfortable with the title and more than that, had come to think of the other young woman as a friend and didn’t want the layer of formality between them.

For all that everyone in her forgotten homeland hailed her as Princess Amethyst, Chloe hadn’t exactly been living in luxury. Instead of a feather bed in the palace, she’d gotten used to roughing it on the hard ground. Her meals weren’t medieval feasts, but rather whatever hard scrabble rations they could get their hands on, and there had been some hungry nights before Zatanna joined them and used her magic to help secure food. In short, she’d learned to rough it in the near year she’d been there and regarded her royal title with a certain amount of irony. ‘ Then again, hadn’t it always been her lot in life to be a paper princess ?’

Even back in Paris, her heiress persona had been something of a put on in a lot of ways. Andre Bourgeois had always projected more prosperity than he actually had. They had some money but Andre also lived well above his means and tried to stretch himself into the circles of the uber-rich, not just the moderately well off. Not knowing anything else, Chloe had mimicked that behavior, bragging about every luxury handbag bought on credit, or boasting about her political connections to try and bolster her sometimes flimsy self-worth. Fake it till you make it was advice that could be quite useful in some situations, but when it came to financial matters, it had led Andre to overextend himself, symbolized by his purchase of Le Grand Paris.  

That luxury hotel had been their ‘palace’ back on earth, but for Chloe it sometimes felt more like a gilded cage. She’d gone along with Andre and Audrey and habitually bragged about living permanently in a suite there, but it had honestly felt a little cold and impersonal for her, particularly because she ended up seeing hotel staff more than either of her supposed parents. She’d also put together over the Akuma year, in part due to Mari influencing her to be more inquisitive, that Andre had needed to borrow heavily against his other real estate holdings to buy the hotel, and the balance sheet was still deep red.

It was this long list of creditors that had made him so susceptible to bribery. Indeed, the money-making potential of the office may very well have been what attracted him to the idea of becoming mayor in the first place. ‘ Then again, he also just always wanted to be important, so I’m sure that was part of it’. Chloe remembered the mayoral campaign with mixed emotions, especially with the perspective she’d gained since. 

At the time she’d loved it, mostly because they’d played happy family for the cameras and she’d gotten absurdly rare affection from Audrey and increased attention from Andre. Of course, Audrey had left pretty much for good once the campaign wrapped up, and Andre becoming mayor had meant Chloe’s rearing was almost entirely left up to servants. She could see now that the Bourgeois were just putting on a show for political purposes, but it had been nice at the time. It was only after she’d started experiencing, bizarrely to her world experience, unconditional affection from Marinette that the temporary favor shown by Audrey began to seem fully hollow.

Her squad set off at a jog, rushing through the hallways to gain as much ground as they could. Deeper and deeper they wound their way into the fortress until they hit resistance again. Outside the grand library a phalanx of four golems supported by a half dozen pikemen and a tall pale warlock, whose hand’s crackled with dark power, rounded the corner and sent the forces of Amethyst dodging into the massive chamber and scrambling behind bookshelves for cover.

‘ I need to focus,’ Chloe commanded herself as she popped out from below an overturned lectern to blast one of the golems with a surge of purple energy. ‘ We’re in the endgame now.’

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Gotham, Halloween Night, Same Time

The first sign something was going wrong was that it was an exceptionally busy night for the Bats, and busy everywhere . None of the incidents were massive, an attempted arson here, a drunken brawl pilling on to the streets over there, but they were happening all over town

A lot of it could be handled by emergency services, but the Bats, Cats and Birds were plugging holes wherever they could. Dinah went with Batgirl to foil an attempt to heist opioids from Gotham General, Red Bat and Bluebird were frantically trying to stop an out-of-control tram hurtling through uptown, Catwoman, ‘Black Bat’, Batman and Raptor were corralling a frenzied Plasmus, rampaging in the diamond district, (which technically may have qualified as a massive incident), and on and on.

Lady Noire was with Robin and Nightwing and the trio were working Nightwing’s ongoing investigation into how Venom was leaking back into their city. They’d determined a particular warehouse near the pier was the likely main distribution hub and were staking it out.

“It seems the docks will be quiet tonight. We should leave a bug and go assist the rest of the family,” Damian said for maybe the third time that night. Mari couldn’t say she disagreed, listening to the rest of the Bats over comms, dealing with the seemingly mounting troubles elsewhere in the city. She was itching to do more than watch a stubbornly silent warehouse.

“Trust the others to handle things, Robin” Nightwing calmly replied while examining the warehouse with compact Batnoculars. They were camped out on three different rooftops adjacent to their target, leaving only the sea facing side uncovered, and communicating over comms. The Bats had a complex channel system to keep the main line from getting filled with chatter, so the three were essentially in a private call, though still able to hear the mainline.

“Are you sure?” Lady Noire asked, leaning on her staff as she watched the west side of the building.

“I’m sure,” Dick replied with practiced ease. He’d learned to act confident in stressful situations way back when he first crossed a tightrope. Even if things became rough enough in the other parts of the city that the family needed backup, Oracle would call in Mockingbird and Lark first; Damian and Marinette were capable, but the family was extremely careful not to toss their younger members into the deep end too quickly.

Something caught his eye, and he adjusted a dial on the Batnoculars, shifting his vision into another end of the spectrum. There, slipping in a side entrance to the warehouse was a trio of rough looking men, led by a guy Dick recognized. Edward ‘Eddie’ Skeevers was a three time loser of a mafioso who’d worked for half a dozen crime families over the years, always seeming to survive like a cockroach when his boss of the moment went down.

He wasn’t a threat, more likely to run or surrender at the sight of a Bat than put up a fight, but there was a reason Nightwing knew him on sight. Once upon a time, Edward Skeevers had been part of the gang of a particular Maroni sub-boss, Tony ‘Fats’ Zucco, the man who killed Dick’s first family. In the days after he’d first become Robin, he’d learned the names and faces of every member of that gang, and he’d probably never forget them.

Still, the sight of him didn’t make Dick fly off the handle, instead signaling patiently for Robin and Lady Noire to get in position to potentially enter the warehouse. They had parabolic listening devices set up to hear what was going on inside, and their primary goal that night was gathering information, but depending on what they heard, Dick might make the call for them to take the gangsters inside.

Eddie Skeevers had worked with Zucco, but he hadn’t had any direct involvement in the scheme to threaten Haly’s Circus into smuggling drugs, or murdering the Flying Graysons as an intimidation tactic. The sight of him might leave a nasty taste in Dick’s mouth, but he wasn’t the kind of threat he was too worried about engaging with that night, even if the old mook was using Slappers these days.

“I have something,” Robin informed them over comms. The younger vigilante had his own listening set up on his rooftop, to catch what Dick and Mari couldn’t from theirs, and provide as much coverage as they could get. “Sounds like an argument. The new arrivals are upset that the boss isn’t ready to meet them. Goons inside are getting heated, say the boss is busy in the back room.”

Nightwing mulled it over for a second before making his decision, “Lady Noire, Robin, we’re going in. Sounds like the boss we’ve been waiting for is in there after all. We’ll go in via the ventilation shaft we identified earlier, then use a smoke bomb barrage to mask our initial attack. Stay frosty out there.”

Damian groaned and Mari chuckled over his dated lingo, but both twins fell into sync, leaping through the dark to the warehouse roof. Dick, who’d had Damian as a brother for a good bit longer than he’d known Marinette was his sister, was sometimes amazed at how the two unconsciously mirrored each other. On the surface they were quite different, and Marinette probably spent more time with Harper than any other sibling if you counted up the minutes, but when she and Damian got serious in the field, you could tell they were twins. 

The initial attack by the Bats went blissfully smoothly, especially considering the unexpected amount of trouble the rest of the family was running into that Halloween. The seven total gangsters inside, including the three who had just arrived, were indeed using Slappers to enhance their strength, but the heroes were prepared for it this time. They quickly set about disarming and disabling their opponents, and Nightwing breathed a sigh of relief when no reinforcements came streaming out of the backroom. The boss, if they were indeed in there and the goons hadn’t just been bullshitting one another, must either be holding up, or unable to hear the fight through the thick industrial door that was the back office’s only exit.

Though he’d been careful not to show it, Dick had been a bit apprehensive about bringing the youngest vigilantes in the family along on a mission that had even the remote possibility of Bane showing up. A fighter who could defeat his father, even under extenuating circumstances, was something he would never take lightly. So, frankly he’d been alright with the bust that night’s stake out looked like it was turning out to be before Robin confirmed the boss of the Slapper running operation was supposed to be inside. 

Damian and Marinette may actually have a large amount of combat experience due to their unique, and frankly unfortunate, life experiences before coming home to the family, but the twins were still his baby siblings and he felt protective. He didn’t want to smother any of his siblings, or his teammates for that matter, but Nightwing had an admitted problem with not instinctively trying to take care of everything himself; it was a trait he and his pa had in common.

Swinging his escrima stick in a furious arc, he connected with the temple of the last of the thugs in the immediate area, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Immediately checking on his little siblings, he found Marinette twirling her staff above two downed goons to his left, while Robin was sheathing his katana and reaching for cord from his utility belt to tie up the hulking bald steroid junkie he’d taken out. 

Nightwing set his sticks back in their holster and chastised himself. ‘ There was nothing to worry about; they handled it just fine. Besides, Babs was 99% sure Bane was back on Santa Prisca, so there was never going to be a major threat to worry about ton-‘

“Hello, boy wonder. Did you miss me?”

The sound of the voice made Dick Grayson-Wayne’s blood run cold and his heart rate jump a gear. It was a voice he would never forget until the day he died. The family had fought a lot of foes, and so had the Titans, but this man was the one that kept him up at night. This was the evil that haunted the dark corners of his mind. This was Slade, armed, prepared for him, clearly on a mission, and standing less than 3 yards away from Dick’s baby brother.

“Lady Noire, Robin, retreat, now.” There was no room for question in Nightwing’s voice. He couldn’t fight at the level he needed to when going toe to toe with Deathstroke while trying to cover the two younger heroes, and Wilson was always happy to exploit that kind of vulnerability. He took a step towards Deathstroke, who stood almost relaxed against the storage unit he’d been hiding behind.

“Now now, Robin,” Slade drawled, clearly addressing Dick despite using the codename currently used by Damian, “don’t you want to let your friends stick around for the fun? It’s been too long since I humbled someone wearing that ridiculous red leotard.” Damian’s death glare towards the mercenary somehow grew even more intense, but he held his ground, not rising to the bait. Instead, clearly not wanting to, he started to edge away the mercenary, towards the main exit, while being careful to keep himself facing towards the villain. Deathstroke wasn’t the kind of guy you turned your back on if you wanted to live through the night.

“So, this is a trap then?” Dick asked, “you faked evidence of a Santa Priscian connection to lure in a Bat?” More than searching for information, Dick was playing for time and trying to keep the focus on him as Mari and Damian started moving for the exit. Using a bit of sleight of hand, he thumbed the general emergency signal for the Titans on his belt. Oracle would have heard over comms what was going on, but with Deathstroke making an appearance, Nightwing made the executive decision to call in external help to Gotham.

“Oh, these fools aren’t associated with me,” Deathstroke replied, taking a step forward himself and gesturing to the downed enforcers. “It was obvious you’ve been pursuing them, and I just took advantage. The bodies of their bosses are stacked up in the backroom, though I don’t recall where I put the heads.” Slade drew his blades at the same moment Nightwing armed himself with his escrima sticks. “And I wasn’t after some random flying rat, I’m here for you.”

Triggered by some signal she couldn’t grasp, Nightwing and Deathstroke flew into combat against one another as Lady Noire regretfully made the dash for the exit along with Robin. Every instinct she had screamed at her to fight by Dick’s side, but she forced herself to ignore them. Her eldest brother had earned her trust, and she needed to trust his judgment. 

Putting distance between them and Deathstroke, Robin and Lady Noire fled away from the docks toward the Bowery. Able to once again spare attention listening to the main feed, it became apparent a busy night had turned into a crisis all over Gotham.

“Nightwing is engaging Deathstroke,” Oracle was explaining in a tense voice, “Red Bat, leave the Bowery to Bluebird and reroute to give him back up. Lady Noire-“

“Negative, can’t leave current scene,” Jason grunted, “highly skilled assailant is targeting Bluebird and-“

“I can handle it, whoa!” Harper came in, pausing to dodge something.

“No, you can’t, rely on Red Bat and get out of there. Mockingbird and Lark are enroute to you,” Oracle commanded. “Batwoman, I need you to return from Arkham so-“

“Attempted break in at Arkham,” Kate informed them at the same instant Babs was trying to recall one of the two heroes babysitting the insane asylum to the city, “dark robed assailants using traditional weapons. Flamebird and I are engaging.”

“Plasmus is secured, Catwoman and Black Bat will go-“ Batman started before the sound of a sword slicing through the air interrupted him.

“Batman is under assault by at least four combatants,” Catwoman informed them, the worry about the deteriorating situation facing their family breaking through Selina’s voice. “Black Bat, Raptor and I are assisting; we’ll finish this as quickly as possible.”

Stephanie’s voice came in over the line, “Black Canary and I have discovered assailants similar to the ones Batwoman described planting a bomb on the hospital’s generator. She’s covering me while I attempt defusal.”

“Understood,” Oracle replied, her mind rapidly processing the best course of action. “Wonder Woman and Troia have been alerted and are inbound for the city. Black Orchid is heading for the Fawcett City zeta, and-“

“Damian, get back to the cave now!” Jason barked, the stress of the situation causing him to momentarily forget to use his little brother’s name (luckily his hi-tech full-face mask muffled his voice when he didn’t have the speaker active). “This guy has League of Assassins training, this is Ras.”

Marinette had watched her twin brother’s face darken in concert with her own spirits as the news of mounting disaster and danger for their family rang in their ears. At the announcement it was apparently connected to the cult of killers he’d been raised in, he snapped. “I will NOT retreat at the first whiff of danger! We are obviously under a full-scale attack and there is safety in numbers. Lady Noire and I will regroup with Nightwing and help him defeat Deathstroke before coming to the aid of others.”

“Negative!” Nightwing exclaimed, his voice ragged and the sound of combat momentarily breaking over the line when he spoke. 

“Absolutely negative,” Oracle said sternly, “Lady Noire and Robin return to the cave, now. Bluebird, the instant you can safely disengage, retreat. This is Code: Black.”

Damian ignored their sister, turning around to head back towards where they’d left Nightwing. He shared a look with Marinette and she hesitated for just a moment before following him. ‘ I can’t leave him alone, right now’ she rationalized to herself as she too disobeyed orders and went to rescue Dick.

A minute later they were a few rooftops away from the dockside warehouse, running across the top of the shuttered old Gotham Aquarium, when a dark figure hurtled out of the shadows and collided with Robin. Skidding to a stop over the building’s skylight, Lady Noire saw the diminutive dark clothed figure tumble with Damian before the pair spun away from each other and each drew blades. The attacker was strangely about the same height as the notoriously shortest Robin. 

Alarm klaxons and panicked voices still sounding in her ear, she took one step towards her brother, before something hard and heavy smashed into her back, smacking her down and shattering the skylight, sending her falling into the darkness.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gemworld, Same Time 

“I honestly expected something more after all this time,” Dark Opal drawled to the restrained Amethyst. The blue skinned despot looked like a cross between a Roman centurion and David Bowie and seemed totally relaxed in spite of the ongoing assault on his castle. 

‘ and why shouldn’t he be calm?’ Chloe thought bitterly as she strained against the conjured black crystalline chains she’d been restrained with. She and Lady Turquoise had made it to the tyrant’s throne room with a small remaining number of soldiers and attempted to take him. It would have been nice to wait for reinforcements, but the whole point of the plan had been to strike swiftly. Every second they waited for help, was second Opal’s own forces could be regrouping.

Over the last several months, Chloe had learned more about how to use her magic, and how to fight, nearly every single day. She wasn’t the warrior Lady Topaz was, or a master of the magic arts like Zatanna, but she’d fancied that she was becoming formidable. She’d fancied that she stood a chance.

‘Just another mistake, Chloe,’ her inner voice taunted her. After only a few minutes of brutal fighting against the mystically empowered mad man, most of her soldiers lay dead or dying. Turquoise was unconscious and bleeding out from the ebony blade embedded in her gut, and Amethyst herself had been captured in conjured manacles.

Summoning all the mana she could, she tried to blast an energy bolt from her hands to break her bonds, but there wasn’t even a purple glow. “That won’t work, you silly girl. The Bindings of Daanuth seal all magic of lesser sorcerers.” Twirling his hand in the air, he somehow summoned a purple crystalline goblet sloshing with wine.

“There’s always a way out,” Amaya spat, quoting a favorite phrase of her mentor. Zatanna was the second-best escape artist on Earth and carried that philosophy into the rest of her life. 

Dark Opal chuckled, “not this time, dear child.” He took a deep sip of his wine, “even as we speak my forces are destroying your little rebellion. I really must thank you for giving them the foolhardy courage to come out into the open. It lets me kill all my enemies in one move.”

Chloe continued to struggle, a desperate plan forming in the back of her mind. She needed to keep him talking. “You have no right to rule over Gemworld and oppress its people!”

The tyrant smirked, “and House Amethyst did? Here’s the truth, sugar bean, those with the power have the right. I’m the most powerful being on Gemworld, so I have the right to take anything I want from anyone. Like this glass I plundered from the ruins of Castle Amethyst, for instance. I wanted it, so I took it, and the hysterical woman who owned it could do nothing to resist me. Oh, you may actually remember her, I think she was your mother.”

Chloe refused to think about his words, or the birth mother she would never meet. If he was gloating, he wasn’t going out into the castle to do battle with the rest of the rebellion. She fixed him with a predatory grin, using every ounce of the false confidence she’d long ago learned to project. “Oh, is that right? Then why do you live in fear of Amethyst? I’ve listened to the people of this world. You forbid the mention of my house, you hide behind walls and golems, and you scoured the land trying to find me when I was just a baby, because you were afraid of a child!”

WHAM! 

Dark Opal slapped her across the face with his gauntleted hand, cutting her cheek and letting her blood begin to drip to the ground. “I would take care in how you speak to me, whelp!” 

“I don’t bend the knee to a fake king bondage outfit,” Amaya snapped back, taunting him, “I mean I heard your brother was the real wizard in the family, but I didn’t think you’d be so pathe-GAH“

Her words were cut off by Dark Opal grabbing her by the throat, lifting her in the air and beginning to choke the air from her lungs. Frantically she moved her fingers, trying to complete the final step of her horribly risky plan, when the door on the opposite side of the throne room from where Amaya had entered, exploded inward in a storm of flapping white doves.

“Hcuot ym dlihc, dna nrub!” Zatanna cried, her eyes shining with golden magic. Instantaneously, Black Opal’s hands were seared where he touched Chloe, and he was forced to release his choke hold on the purple haired girl, allowing her to fall, gasping, to the dark tile floor.

Time seemed to slow down as the tyrant turned to confront the attacking hero, Amethyst laying bound and temporarily forgotten at his feet. Still gasping for breath, Chloe finally slipped her bindings; no real magic may have been able to affect them, but stage magic was entirely fair game. Over countless evenings spent together during the long march to Castle Opal, Zatanna had taught Chloe a handful of mundane magic tricks, starting with how to slip out of a pair of handcuffs.

She wasn’t great at it yet, and her wrists hurt like hell, but she’d done it. She rose to her feet and conjured a violet crystal blade in her right hand in the same motion, thrusting it upward with every bit of strength she could still muster.

The blade of Amethyst slid into his flesh and between his ribs with surprising ease. In the space between his last heartbeats, the decade-long nightmare of Opal’s tyranny ended. The immortal warlock, scion of House Opal, servant of the Lords of Chaos, and ruthless overlord of Gemworld had finally accidentally let someone within his guard. He’d been so confident in his magic, and so dismissive of Amaya while she couldn’t use hers, that he made a fatal error in judgment.

Opal stumbled away from Chloe, black blood running down the length of the blade that had pierced his heart. Amaya was nearly as shocked as him that it had actually worked, albeit with a very necessary distraction from Zatanna, who was now rushing to her side, and just crouched there on her knees, breathing heavily.

Before her eyes, Dark Opal went from bleeding out, to literally dissolving . As the various enchantments that girded him began to fail, his body was tearing itself apart, as various supernatural bargains suddenly came due. His blood boiled and evaporated, his flesh rotted, and his skeleton turned to dust, while all his magic broke at the same instant his body perished.

There was a shockwave that blasted out from where he had stood, knocking Chloe on to her back, and making Zatanna raise a gloved hand to block her face, her top hat flying away from the blast. Throughout the castle, and then the rest of Gemworld, and even to planes beyond, Dark Opal’s magic failed.

On earth, thugs who’d bought the new cheap kryptonite flooding the streets were suddenly holding bullets made of common gypsum. In the lands of Emerald, the curse that had ruined their arable land lifted, a long-delayed spring coming into bloom. Among Dark Opal’s forces, both those fighting in his castle, and those of his allies Sapphire and Ruby to the south, his golem army became inert. Enchanted blades turned to pig iron sticks, and those sorcerers who’d been allowed to draw on a fraction of their master’s magic were left to their own smaller pools of mana. 

Amethyst didn’t know any of it at that moment, couldn’t hear the cheers of the rebellion’s forces echoing through the fortress, or even feel the joy of having finished the task that had been set for her when she’d been whisked to this magical realm so long ago. All she could do was sit there on the ground, grappling with the fact she had just killed a man, while she felt the comforting arms of Zatanna wrap around her from behind.

In a small voice, the hero of the rebellion said, “I’d like to go home now.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Abandoned Old Gotham Aquarium, Near the Docks, Same Time

“Unhh,” Mari groaned as she rose from the ground, blinking in the darkness of the exhibit room, distant moon light coming in through the broken skylight and bouncing around the empty glass tanks that had once housed exhibits. She stumbled uneasily to her feet, trying to avoid stepping on the shattered glass and regain her bearings. The voices of the rest of the Batfamily in her ear disappeared for some reason, leaving the deserted aquarium eerily silent.

There was still an active Gotham Aquarium, reopened in a new building on the north side of the city, but this place had been closed down ever since it was ground zero for Joker’s laughing fish epidemic. 

“I apologize for the rough landing,” a female voice said from the darkness, “I had been under the impression cats always land on their feet.”

“Cats usually don’t get hit in the back with a bowling ball,” Marinette shot back. The room was dark, true, but the powers of the Cat Miraculous gave her night vision fit for any feline, and she could see a dark haired woman in a green qipao lurking in the shadows. Still, there was no reason to reveal she had that advantage so she added, “why don’t you come out here where I can see you?”

“I’d hardly call Onyx a bowling ball, habibi,” the woman replied, at the same time Marinette clocked another dark robed figure standing further back, partially hidden by the cobweb covered penguin exhibit. “In any event it doesn’t matter. All that matters is you’re here with me, now, and I’ve come to take you somewhere your talents will be appreciated, Marinette.”

Considering how the night was going, with at least several members of her family fighting for their lives, Lady Noire hadn’t thought she could get more tense, but the mystery woman casually using her real name had her clutching her bo staff till her knuckles turned white.

“Who are you,” Mari growled in an approximation of the voice Bruce used for intimidation. It didn’t work as well with her younger, higher pitched register, but it was worth a try.

Her answer was a knife flying out of the shadows, straight for her face; luckily, she saw it coming and flicked her staff on reflex, batting it out of the air.

“Excellent,” the woman declared while hurling three more daggers towards Lady Noire, who deflected them with a spin of her staff, taking a step backwards. “I’d worried your soft childhood would have diminished your skills, but the blood always runs true. Once you’ve been properly trained you will be a force to be reckoned with, my child.”

“Talia,” Marinette muttered, the detective in her putting together who this woman might be. She may have purposefully avoided reading too much about the woman or her League of Assassins when going through the Batcomputer’s case files, due to the emotional baggage that came with investigating her absentee birth mother, but she knew enough to understand the clues in front of her.

“I’d prefer you call me mother, daughter,” Talia replied, stepping forward into the dim moonlight, so there were now only a few meters between the two of them. “I apologize for taking so long to come and collect you after learning of your survival and fortuitous empowerment. It is somewhat cumbersome to fully distract that poor copy of the League your father surrounds himself with.”

“My survival?” Marinette asked. While she knew she should be focusing on the threat, focusing on the fight, she couldn’t deny asking the questions she’d long desperately wanted answers to, not when they were right in front of her.

Talia frowned momentarily, “yes, I had tasked a loyal servant of mine to rear you away from my father’s eyes. He may not have valued a female heir, but I knew your potential. She was to raise you in a city with minimal League presence, and see you were properly instructed so I could collect you later. Unfortunately, an earthquake collapsed the building she was staying in with you as a babe, and the reports indicated all occupants were lost. I’ve already dispatched someone to eliminate the French fool who confused you with the child of the crack addict staying in the next room over.”

Mari’s mind raced; she’d known she was recovered after a disaster, and that there was no known family, sending her into the system from infancy. Since coming to live with the Waynes, and learning some of the truth of her parentage, she’d assumed Talia had literally just abandoned her, maybe granting her the mercy of a life outside the League, but apparently it was all some kind of cosmic accident that led to her growing up in Paris, alone. 

“Why should I believe you?” She demanded, “You could have kept me within the league like you did with Damian, even if you weren’t grooming me to be some kind of flesh puppet for the ghoul you call a father. Your interest now is in the ring, not me.” People always wanted the miraculous, and the power it held; it seemed far more likely Talia was angling to get a wish, rather than suddenly discovering a belated maternal instinct.

The master assassin scoffed, “your traitorous brother has a flawed understanding of the order that is our birth right. If you were kept within the League at that time, you would have become just another tool for my father.” Talia paused, before dramatically declaring, “he clings to power, but his time is ending, the age is turning. The league needs a new head, a new leader. You were to be by my side, habibi, as we took our rightful places.”

“So, you just wanted me to be a tool for you instead, is that it?” Lady Noire nearly spat. If Talia didn’t want to raise her as her daughter, she could have left her with someone who wanted her. Marinette could have grown up with Bruce and Selina from the start, in Gotham, where she belonged, but that had been denied to her because it didn’t benefit Talia Al Guhl’s master plan.

Talia shook her head, “you were not born to be a pawn, Marinette. And I could care less for that silly ring you use as a crutch. Now, my forces will only detain your fool of a father and his false family for so long. I know you came to Gotham under extenuating circumstances, but I’m offering you a real choice, to come be with your real family.”

“I’m not going to go with you,” Marinette retorted incredulously. “You abandoned me as a baby and sent assassins to kill my family.

Tallia scowled and snapped, “they aren’t your family, child! They are a collection of strays and a common thief who hold your father back from greatness. Your brother has already fallen to delusion, but that is his weakness. You have been here a mere six months; you cannot yet be corrupted by his failure.”

As she spoke, the deadly woman closed the distance between them faster than Marinette would have thought possible, jabbing a scimitar towards her head. Mari dodged her head to the side just in time. The blade whistled through the air to her left, but Talia slammed the hilt of the weapon into Marinette’s temple, knocking her onto the ground.

This time she did manage to display catlike grace, dropping to all fours to avoid falling on her tail. She sprang away just in time to avoid being sliced by the second scimitar Talia was wielding. Her long tail-like braid flew wildly as she desperately worked to put distance between her and her murderous biological mother, going fully on the defensive to dodge or deflect the sword strikes.

“YES!” Talia cried, ecstatic, “you are a warrior my child! You must feel it!”

Lady Noire was a very skilled fighter for her age, with her year against Hawkmoth giving her more experience than some members of the Justice League had. Add to that her recent months being trained by the Batfamily, and the moderate improvement to her speed and strength granted by Plagg, and she should be a formidable opponent. 

She was nothing in the face of Talia al Guhl’s onslaught. Her opponent was a centuries old master of the killing arts, and it was all Marinette could do to stop one of those blades from cutting into her flesh. Moment by moment her defense had to grow tighter, as she caught a kick to the ribs here, or a shallow cut to her ear there. Worried she was being pushed into a corner, she decided to try something drastic.

Inky black energy flowed over her right hand, sheathing her claws in the essence of destruction. Backflipping to avoid an X-slash of Talia’s blades, she passed the old whale tank and ran her claws against the glass with a cry of “CATACLYSM!”

The gargantuan glass tank exploded into shards and powder, shaking the building. The force of the Kwami borne destruction, breaking most of the other nearby tanks and cracking the foundation. Mari wasn’t a killer and wasn’t going to use her ultimate move on a living person, no matter who they were, but everything else was fair game. Her intention was to use the distraction of the explosion to get away, flee the building, and try to find Damian, who was no doubt fighting his own assassin at the moment.

She only forgot one thing. 

Talia’s subordinate Onyx, who had been patiently watching events play out.

THUD!

As Marinette turned to flee, a brick flew at her, nailing her right between the eyes. If her transformation hadn’t still had five minutes left after the use of Cataclysm she could have been seriously injured. As it was, she fell back onto the ground, nursing a likely concussion. She woozily tried to turn around and face her primary assailant but couldn’t immediately pull herself together to get back on her feet.

Talia didn’t go in for the kill, instead sheathing her scimitars on her hips and walking slowly towards the prone Marinette. She stared down at her prodigal daughter, “you fight well, habibi, but you are untrained. Your father lacks the heart to do what must be done when rearing a child, and he is letting your potential wither on the vine. I could make you magnificent.”

Mari tried to respond but found her mouth full of blood, either from built up internal damage or biting her cheek during the fall. She coughed it up as Talia came to stand above her, just a few feet away.

“I had to send you away once, but now we can be together. With you by my side, we can overthrow my father and rule the League ourselves, do things properly, as mother and daughter,” Talia declared, reaching a hand out towards Marinette.

Marinette struggled back to her feet, stepped backwards, and drew her fist across her mouth, wiping away a trickle of blood pouring from it. There was only one answer she could give, the truth. She grit her teeth, bared her fangs and said,

“I already have a mother. Her name is Selina.”

Talia’s expression turned into a sneer and she snarled, “you would oppose your own blood in the name of that back-alley whore? You are as foolish as your brother.” The assassin redrew her blade and began stepping towards the still groggy Marinette when the skylight above them burst open, a dark feline figure descending from the night sky to stand between them.

“Do. Not. Touch. My. DAUGHTER!” Catwoman snarled.

Mari smiled, because she knew at that instant, she knew she would be okay. Her mom was there to protect her. As Plagg’s magic ran out, and she depowered, the accumulated damage caught up to her normal body, and the darkness of unconsciousness engulfed her. The last thing she saw was Selina trying to claw out the eyes of the woman who’d tried to take her daughter away.

Chapter Text

Wayne Manor, Master Bedroom, Many Years Ago

Bruce stood in the door of his bedroom, staring blankly ahead like he wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to use it. He hadn’t slept in 176.2 hours and he knew he really should. He still couldn’t. Mechanically he walked forward, letting the door hang open behind him, but he didn’t collapse in the bed like his body begged him to. He wouldn’t give himself the comfort of rest.

“I can’t do this,” Bruce whispered. He wasn’t the Bat right now; he was barely even Bruce. He wasn’t the airhead Brucie, and he wasn’t the determined angry young man who’d once traveled the world to train himself. At that moment he was just an eight-year-old boy in the rain again, his parents’ blood splashed on his new suit, his whole world just broken. 

“Course you can,” Commissioner Gordon replied as he strode into the room after Bruce, lighting his trusty pipe as he did so. He stopped to stand next to Bruce, both of them gazing out the window to the grounds of Wayne Manor beyond. “You’ve never backed down from a challenge Batman.”

Bruce glanced down, not letting himself look at the other man, “I’m not worthy.”

Jim chuckled, “that’s crap and you know it, Batman. It’s not about being worthy, and it’s not about you. She needs someone and you’re going to step up.”

The master of Wayne Manor turned and crossed to the bed. He didn’t wear the cowl, but he still had on a torn and bloody Batsuit on, sans cape and gloves. His emblem was nearly unrecognizable, the advanced fibers shredded to tatters. He sat on the end and stared down at his own bloody knuckles. “She needs someone better, someone who can actually keep her safe.”

Gordon turned to look down at him, the light glinting off his circular glasses, “she needs her family.”

“I’m not you, Jim,” Bruce admitted.

“No, you’re not,” the Commissioner agreed, “but you’re still family.”

Silence hung between them. In his hazy sleep deprived state, Bruce couldn’t say for how long. Eventually though, he broke it. “You’re dead, Jim.” He’d seen the body. 

He still couldn’t really process it; all his training, all his oh-so vaunted intelligence, none of it prepared him for a world without Jim. He thought he knew death, had met it early and dodged it nightly, but even now it was a stranger to him. It had taken the best man he’d known, and Bruce was powerless to make him give it back.

Logically he knew the facts, could understand what had occurred, but part of his brain refused to accept it. As he had pursued the laughing madman across oceans and continents, he’d catch himself thinking about needing to loop in the commissioner, only to realize again with crushing pain that he’d never hear Jim’s voice again. He’d never see his wry, half hidden smile.  It was like blindly reaching for a door you’d opened a hundred times, only to be left grasping in the dark when it wasn’t there. It was losing a friend. 

Jim Gordon, a man Joker had murdered days ago, let out a long puff of smoke. “I am, ain’t that a pisser? Always figured when one of them finally punched my ticket, it would be Harve, but I guess no one is safe from the Clown.”

“You’re not really here,” Bruce continued, “After 72 hours without sleep, hallucinations are all but guaranteed.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Jim conceded, “but even if I’m not here, you’re still talking, and given all I ever got out of you for years was the occasional grunt, it probably means you need it.”

“Jason still hasn’t woken up,” Bruce admitted, feeling like he should cry but unable to. “The doctor says there’s a chance he never does. I’ve failed my son, and I will fail a daughter.” Selina was still at the hospital, waiting with Dick by their bedsides. Bruce had only left because Alfred had basically physically forced him into the car to come home and sleep, and he was so exhausted he couldn’t stop him. 

The last week had seen him hounding the Joker, from the U.N in Metropolis, to Amusement Mile in Gotham, across the ocean to Switzerland, then Qurac, then Ethiopia. Selina and Kate had been with him for most of it, the three already desperately trying to deal with Jason running away from home, only to have Joker gas the general assembly and then maim Barbara, before torturing and killing Jim. Jason had been lured to Ethiopia, by a birth mother who’d taken a bribe from the mad clown, and now two of Bruce’s kids were in critical condition.

“He’ll get up,” Jim concluded, “Jay’s a fighter. He’ll get up, and so will Barbara, and when they do, they’ll need you.”

“I should be on a plane to Quarac,” Bruce decided. “I need to kill him.” He’d beaten the Joker within just an inch of his life, but something had stayed his hand at the last second from doing the thing he desperately wanted to do. Maybe it was that Dick was listening over comms, maybe it was the rustle of a cape that let him know Clark had arrived and would stop him from finishing the damn smiling clown like he should have done long ago. Joker was in a Quaraci cell, the nation that had made the imbecilic move of naming the criminal their UN representative, now scrambling to clean up the mess he’d made.

“No, you should be here.” James Gordon countered. “You should sleep, stop seeing ghosts, and go back to the hospital. You should let Selina rest, force Alfred to sit down, comfort Dick, and be there for Jason and Barbara when they wake up. Batman isn’t a killer. You aren’t a killer,” he grinned at Bruce, “it’s one of the things I like about you.”

“I-“ Bruce began but Jim cut him off.

“Look, Batman,” Jim’s voice grew stern, like when he was chiding a junior officer, “I know you’re mad at yourself, that you blame yourself, but that really doesn’t matter right now. It doesn’t matter if you think you deserve to be their dad, that’s what you are and you have a responsibility to them. Do you think Thomas would abandon them?”

“I never talked to Jim about my father,” Bruce muttered.

“Hey,” Jim replied, “I’m a hallucination, I know what you do. I need you, Bruce. My daughter lost her mother, and she just lost a father. Don’t make her lose another one.”

Bruce looked up to meet Jim’s eyes, a sudden surge of focus coming to him as he said the words, “I’ll take care of her. I promise.” He didn’t have the answer to the gnawing hole Jim’s death had opened, but he knew one thing. He’d be there for his friend’s daughter, for his daughter. 

Jim Gordon smiled and puffed on his pipe, “of course you will. After all, I’ve always put my faith in Batman.” With those final words, the apparition vanished as darkness overtook Bruce and the bruised, bloodied, battered Dark Knight finally slept. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gotham Docks, Halloween Night, Present Day

Thrust, parry, dodge, roll, throw a batarang, spin away from a pistol shot, kick to disarm. The fight with Deathstroke was a deadly rhythm, walking the tightrope between victory and death. Nightwing wasn’t Robin anymore, wasn’t a teenager way out of his league against a sadist in the running for the title of world’s deadliest man; he could go toe to toe with Slade, but it took everything he had.

“What, no quips Robin?” Deathstroke taunted while swinging his katana at Dick’s midsection. 

“My name is Nightwing,” Dick retorted, aiming a spinning kick for Deathstroke’s head, only to barely miss as the enhanced mercenary jerked backwards at the last minute.

Deathstroke tried to pull another gun from his thigh holster, but Nightwing managed to bat it out of his hands with an escrima stick. “Oh, yes,” Deathstroke drawled, maddeningly calm despite the life and death battle, “you gave your old title to the boy. Tell me, do you think my associates have killed him yet, or are they still caught up torturing him?”

Nightwing knew Deathstroke was trying to taunt him, to get under his skin, ‘ but damn if it isn’t working’. Every second Nightwing was fighting Deathstroke, Robin and Lady Noire were alone and unprotected in a Gotham increasingly going to hell in a handbasket. He snarled and launched a furious combo at Deathstroke, pushing the mercenary’s defenses hard.

Then, just ever so slightly, he overextended. He knew the instant the right hook failed to connect with Deathstroke’s chin, getting caught on the villain’s shoulder instead, that he’d messed up. His nemesis would have a bruise, but he also had an opportunity to grab hold of Nightwing’s arm and pull him close to slide one of his blades into his abdomen. Like clockwork, the predicted grab came and Nightwing had just a moment to struggle before a glowing green sphere of energy flew over his shoulder and blasted Deathstroke back and away from him.

“ SLADE!” Starfire cried as she flew into the warehouse, eyes ablaze with green fire and red hair flying wildly. She’d flown in so quickly she was still wearing Dick’s oversized Gotham Knights hoodie and yoga pants. (Dick was actually shorter than his partner but purposefully purchased a larger garment so Kori could steal it.)

“Ah, your woman is here to fight your battles,” Deathstroke snarked, falling back into a combat stance. He looked poised to push the attack, no stranger to fighting multiple opponents at a time, when something caught his eye, and he leaped away just in time to avoid getting crushed by a green fly that suddenly grew into a green elephant, trumpeting angrily.

He continued to dodge backwards as a blue plasma cannonade exploded the concrete floor he had been standing on a moment before, and he spun in midair to slash a red shafted punching glove arrow out of the air as it zoomed towards him from behind. The Titans had arrived.

“Hmm, I’m not being paid enough to tangle with all you little friends,” Deathstroke quipped, putting up a confident façade, but obviously annoyed that the Titans had arrived in force. Speedy dropped from the ceiling, bow trained on the mercenary, while Cyborg charged in from the rear and Beast Boy transformed into a snarling tiger. 

All across Gotham a similar scene played out. While the Bats had been holding their own, or in some places already beginning to turn the tide against the onslaught of Talia’s forces, they hadn’t been too proud to call for assistance. Bruce and Kate might have a host of valid reasons for being resistant to calling for aid, pride, maintaining the mystique of the bats, the fact they usually could handle things themselves, but when their family was in danger, they didn’t hesitate.

As the Titans converged on Deathstroke, several scarlet and yellow blurs zoomed into Gotham Medical, disarming the remaining thugs fighting Black Canary, and letting Batgirl finish disabling the bomb. Bronze Tiger, one of the deadliest martial artists in the world, who’d been tasked with eliminating Bluebird, suddenly had an angry Amazon standing between him and his quarry while vines erupted from the ground around him. 

Several inmates, trying to take advantage of the League’s assault on Arkham to make their own escape, poked their heads through a hole blasted in the wall, only to come face to face with a large S shaped shield. Most of them took themselves back to their cells without a fight. 

Downtown, where the Circle of Six were tangling with Batman, Catwoman, Sandra and Tim, a blade wielding ninja entered the fray on their side as Katana leapt from the shadows. Over the next fifteen minutes, she would be joined by Martian Manhunter, Metamorpho and Black Lightning; the combined might of the assembled heroes accelerated the defeat of the Circle and freed Catwoman and Batman to race to the aid of their youngest children out in the field that night.

They could only hope they wouldn’t be too late.

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Batcave, Hours Later

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP

The sound of a heart monitor was the first thing Marinette became aware of as she stirred back to consciousness. The second thing was the dull pain in her forehead. Vague impressions of the fight she’d been in before getting knocked out flitted through her head. She remembered being scared, then angry, and finally safe. Slowly stirring to wakefulness, she groaned “Maaaaaaa,” without really thinking.

“I’m here, kitten,” Selina replied from her bedside, reaching over to hold her hand. 

Marinette blinked her eyes open to discover she was in the Batcave’s medbay, hooked up to a few monitoring devices and laying in a hospital bed. On her left side was a tired looking Selina, still wearing a damaged and partially torn Catwoman costume, minus the hood and goggles, to her right Alfred was looking over the output of the monitoring machines, and in the corner by the door Cassandra, wearing a hoodie and sweats, was sleeping in a chair. Unknown to her, Dr. Thompkins had been in the room moments ago, before stepping to the next one over to check over Damian’s condition.

“Is everyone okay?” Marinette asked as the events of Halloween came flooding back to her conscious mind. She felt Plagg crawl up her arm from the ring to nestle in against her neck, purring slightly. 

“Yes,” Selina replied quickly, putting her mind at ease, “a few bumps and scratches for the most part, but you, Dick and Damian caught the worst of it. Your older brother has a broken arm, and Damian sprained a wrist and an ankle, but thankfully that and your head injury are the extent of major injuries.”

“Thank the Kwamis,” Marinette muttered. Then her mood darkened further, “it’s all my fault, if Talia hadn’t been after me-“

“Hey,” Selina interjected, playfully swatting Marinette’s arm, “none of that. The actions of a villain are NEVER your fault, kitten. They can, and have, become obsessed with any one of us, and when that happens, we protect one another. That’s what families do.”

“Thanks, mom,” Marinette sniffled, before realizing what she’d said. “Oh, uh, I mean thanks Selina, I-“

Selina gently squeezed her hand, “Marinette, if you’d like to call me mom, it would be my honor. You are my daughter, for the rest of our lives. Nothing is going to change that, or make me stop loving you, okay? While I can’t see a world in which it happened, even if your dad and I split up, you’d still be mine, understand? I love you Marinette.”

The sniffles broke into full on tears, as Marinette embraced her mom, finally letting all her emotions flow free. Somebody wanted her, someone had fought for her. It didn’t matter that Talia had only seen her as a weapon, or that Sabine had thought of her as a nuisance. Selina wanted her to be her daughter. She had a real mom, and a real dad, and a horde of brothers and sisters, and basically her grandpa smiling at her right now, and so many aunts and uncles, biological or no, and cousins, and cats, and dogs, and even a freaking cow. She had a family; Marinette was home.

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Later, BatCave, Wee Hours of the Morning

The mood at Wayne Manor following Halloween could best be described as tense. Marinette had gotten the all clear to leave bed, even if she was still a bit unsteady on her feet and joined the rest of the family for a delayed debrief of the disastrous holiday. Leslie had scolded Bruce thoroughly before declaring the family well enough that she could afford to dash back to her clinic, to help treat civilians injured in the raid. The jovial mood that had pervaded the Cave before the previous patrol was replaced with a dour grimness that engulfed everyone there. The whole family was crowded around the table, her aunts, minus Lois, and their families included, plus Kori who was hovering protectively around Nightwing.

Babs, who looked like she hadn’t slept, launched into things with a recap of how the night had progressed. It became pretty clear to the family of detectives what the objective of the League had been, and that they had at least partially achieved it. Talia had been thorough in detaining and distracting the rest of the family, so she could get Lady Noire alone. While no one had died or been seriously injured, it was a near run thing in some cases, and above all it demonstrated the League of Assassins had a deeper understanding of the family’s procedures and patterns than anyone was comfortable with.

“We’re not sure why Harper was specifically targeted,” a tired Harley added, “but our best guess is Talia knew we paired the younger members of the family with an adult and knew they could tie down more of us if they were prioritizing guarding her.” Harper shifted uncomfortably, not pleased to have been used as a distraction.

Jason slammed his hand against the table. He felt like an idiot. He was so used to looking out for Cassandra and Damian when the League of Assassins were involved, it never occurred to him Marinette might be the target. He was supposed to be the big brother, to look out for them, and he’d failed. Hell, he’d barely been able to protect Harper and his other little sister was standing right next to him when she was attacked.

“Calm down, Jason,” an equally tired Bruce said, “it’s not your fault. We were all read by Talia.”

“She does, unfortunately, know more about the family than nearly any other enemy,” Selina muttered darkly. There were few rogues she hated as viscerally as she hated the woman obsessed with her husband, and two of her children. Despite Talia and Bruce never really having what you could call a relationship, she’d fixated on Selina’s beau and due to Damian and Marinette, would always have a twisted connection with them. ‘ Ironically for someone so obsessed with legacies, Mari and Dami are nothing like her or her horrid family.’

“So,” Stephanie interjected, trying to get them back on track, “most of the assailants seem to be rank and file members of the League, and we identified Bronze Tiger as the guy who went after Harp.” With the aid of their allies, the Bats had actually managed to capture many of the attackers, including the three of the six highly skilled ones who’d targeted Bruce, but Talia, Bronze Tiger, and Deathstroke had all made good their escapes. “And Deathstroke is a known gun for hire, even if bringing in outside help is odd for the League. Did we get a positive ID on the ninja who targeted Damian?”

“It was me,” Damian said quietly, but it hung in the echoey silence of the Batcave. 

“What do you mean it was you?” Stephanie asked. The thought that the assassin might have had a similar upbringing to Damian, especially considering the small stature Mari had mentioned, crossed her mind but her brother wasn’t typically one to utilize a poetic phrase like that.

Bruce, the only other member of the family to see that particular assailant up close, explained, “the person who attacked Damian on the aquarium roof bore a certain superficial physical resemblance to Damian, before he perished.” Batman had only seen the attacker’s face briefly, but the resemblance to Damian had been uncanny, if not perfectly one to one as the assassin looked a bit older. He’d need to have gotten a longer look at him in better light to make any proper conclusions.

“Wait he died?” Marinette asked, startled. “Sorry, I haven't had time to read all the reports since I woke up. How did he die?” She knew her dad, (and how good did it feel to just think of him as her dad without qualifiers), and Damian wouldn’t have intentionally killed the attacker, and assumed he’d escaped with the other assassins that hadn’t fallen into GCPD custody.

Damian continued to stare at the far wall, replying robotically, “he dissolved for lack of a better term. It was like his flesh just came apart. We were closely matched in skill and the fight was dragging on until father intervened. Batman’s arrival seemed to enrage him further, to the point of rabidity. He fought like a crazed man, until he just fell apart like soup.” The sight of his own doppelganger dissolving into a puddle of unraveling flesh had gotten to the normally stoic boy.

“We’ve analyzed the results,” Bruce continued, “and the DNA of the remains are a possible match for Damian.” 

“A possible match?” Dick asked, his arm still in a sling following his fight with Deathstroke.

“There was an incredible amount of cellular degradation,” Bruce explained, “which was the likely cause of his death. By the time we were conducting the analysis of the sample, it was breaking down to amino acids. When you consider the likelihood of contamination by Damian’s blood, skin etc. during the fight, it’s hardly conclusive.” There were certainly other options to explain Damian’s doppelganger from advanced plastic surgery to something supernatural. The liquification of the ninja even bore a certain resemblance to Clayface’s transformation, so he couldn’t rule anything out so soon. 

“Cloning does seem a bit hi-tech for the League,” Tim opined. “I’m not saying it’s impossible, but it would be a change in how they normally do things. If Ras was happy to use that kind of technology, why bother siring an heir the conventional way at all? He could just clone himself and have exactly what he really wants.”

“If you add it all together,” Kate thought aloud, “there were a lot of atypical things for the League of Assassins going on last night. Using outside help, being that out in the open with an attack, utilizing more modern technology…”

“Are we sure this was truly a League operation?” Diana finished her wife’s thought. “Ras Al Guhl was not in evidence after all.”

“Did Talia say anything,” Donna asked her cousin, Mari, gently, “anything about why she was after you?” Marinette had come straight from the medbay to this debrief, so only Selina and Cass had heard much about her encounter with Talia. They were able to guess that she was trying to abduct or induct Marinette into her organization, in a similar manner to how she’d tried to reclaim Dami years ago, but they didn’t know the finer details.

“Uh, oui,” Marinette began slowly, uncomfortable talking about it and unused to being the focus of these meetings. “I’ll write up a full report later, but based on what she said, I think this was an independent operation. She asked me to join her to help her overthrow her father and take control of the League of Assassins. I said no, obviously.”

Damian glowered, “of course you said no; that woman has no understanding of…” he trailed off, obviously still having conflicting feelings for his birth mother that the night’s events had brought back to the fore. Talia had made the same offer to him once upon a time, when she had tried to reclaim him from his father. For Damian it had been a much more fraught decision than it seemed to be for his sister, but it was also the moment he’d decided he wasn’t merely the Son of the Bat but the Son of the Cat as well. 

“That’s good information, Marinette,” Bruce commended her while Selina put a comforting arm on Damian’s shoulder. “If Talia is making a play for control of the League, that could explain why she was using an outside operator, and new tactics.”

“Hey,” Duke cut in, “on the plus side, I think she probably burned a lot of League assets on this. Since this blew up in her face so publicly, maybe the League will be busy infighting for a while.”

“Not a bad guess,” Dick agreed, “and I hope that’s the case, but we should prepare for all possibilities. It’s obvious Talia and her subordinates were able to learn our patrolling habits, perhaps for the time being-“

“You are not benching us!” Harper interjected while Damian nodded emphatically and Marinette voiced her own agreement. The three younger members of the team already always patrolled with an older partner; they weren’t going to peacefully be kept from the field in the name of security.

“We’re not benching anyone,” Kate explained, “but Nightwing has a point. We were too easily isolated last night, and it was almost disastrous.”

Oracle hopped in again, “I’ve already drawn up some new plans. Part of the issue was having almost everyone out at the same time and spread out like that. I know we decided we needed a show of force for Halloween, but it left us inflexible once things went to hell. Going forward, at least for a while, we’re going to have more of us on standby and ensure our patrol routes overlap more so we can back each other up more easily.”

“So, we’re retreating,” Jason scoffed. “Sticking closer means covering less area, means more parts of Gotham ceded to Red Hood, or Black Mask or any other two-bit hood who realizes the Bats are running scared.”

“We’re not retreating,” Bruce said definitively. “We’ll still be keeping Gotham safe, and the more experienced members of the family will still complete solo patrols.”

“Oh, so it’s just the three of us you’re going to surround with guards every time we step out of the cave,” Damian complained, gesturing to Mari and Harper.

Selina sighed, “Dami, honey, we’re just going to be a bit careful until we can determine this wasn’t just the opening attack by the Assassins. Until then, You, Mari and frankly Cass for that matter are too likely targets for us to take this lightly.” Cass frowned at her inclusion in that list but didn’t have a good counter argument considering her own history with the villainous cult and their desire to bring her back into the fold. It only compounded the guilt she was feeling over not having been there to fight with her family.

“If it helps,” Mari spoke up, “I don’t think-, that is to say, I was pretty definitive that I wasn’t going to join her. After that she seemed more like she was trying to kill me than recruit me, so I’m not sure she’s coming back anytime soon.”

Unfortunately, mentioning one of the world’s deadliest women wanted to kill her did not have the intended effect of putting her family at ease. Both Bruce and Selina tensed up and they weren’t the only ones. Batman rubbed his temples, “as worrying as that may be, I agree it’s unlikely she’s going to strike again soon, but we can’t rely on that. Oracle and I are launching an investigation to get a better current picture of the state of the League of Assassins and once we’re confident another attack isn’t imminent, we can relax the field rules somewhat.” 

Bruce’s expression grew sterner as he stared down the table at Robin and Lady Noire, “that said, the rules only work when they’re followed, something that did not happen last night.”

“It was my decision, my fault,” Damian replied, immediately falling on his sword. “I chose to disregard orders and return to Nightwing, Lady Noire simply followed me to try and avoid being fully isolated.”

“That’s not fair,” Mari cut in, “I also disobeyed the order to retreat. If anyone’s in trouble, it should be both of us!”

“You’re both in trouble,” Selina replied. “Operating in the field is a privilege, and you know you’re only allowed to do it if you always follow directions to keep you safe. You’re both barred from patrolling for two weeks, and in the meantime, you can help Alfred around the house if you need something to do.” It was honestly a light punishment for a flagrant act of disobedience, but the extenuating circumstances were likely working in their favor.

“And the two weeks start after you’re cleared medically,” Bruce added, his voice brooking no argument.”

“The portrait gallery is in need of a good dusting,” Alfred opined from his own seat. 

Damian grunted but nodded while Marinette smiled at the man she had come to think of as her grandfather and said, “I’ve been meaning to get around to exploring that room.” Even after months of living there, she hadn’t quite learned all the rooms of the massive Wayne Manor. 

From there the debrief continued, the family breaking down the events of the night and doing some preliminary analysis with the information they had on hand. The sheer number of assassins captured, the plurality coming from the failed Arkham attack meant Blackgate was going to be a concern until they could be processed and tried. Blackgate was a prison, not a jail, but when Jersey culprits were identified as being extremely dangerous, they would be placed at a special ward in the complex while they awaited trial.

Civilian casualties were thankfully low and primarily injuries rather than deaths, probably because the Bats were the real targets. Of course, if the bomb Stephanie and Dinah had encountered had gone off, or if the family hadn’t been there to intervene in the improbable number of crises leading up to the attack, it could have been much worse. Jason had met with Commissioner Bullock after the attack, and while Harvey was pissed as hell about the murderous circus that had suddenly come to his city, he grudgingly thanked Red Bat for the heroes’ help in saving the city. Bullock had never been as comfortable working with the Bats as his predecessor Jim Gordon was but given that the runner up for the position was Batwoman’s somewhat bitter ex, he was probably the better choice. Besides, Bullock was rough around the edges but he was a good man, and clean, something many other Gotham cops weren’t.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Oracle said, before glancing at her watch and amending her statement, “or for today I guess.” Luckily Halloween had fallen on a Friday, so it was the weekend and most of the family could recuperate during the day. The meeting started to break up, with many of the family a bit listless as they slowly got up to go.

Harley shook her head. She didn’t need to be a psychiatrist to see that while Talia’s attack may not have hurt most of the family physically, the mental blow was considerable. Marinette and Damian were blaming themselves for Talia attacking in the first place, Cassandra, Duke, Carrie, Diana, Donna and her wife were castigating themselves for not being out in the field when the shit hit the fan, and Bruce, Kate, Barbara, Dinah, Selina, Jason, and Dick were feeling like they’d failed to protect their family. Even Harper seemed to be taking the guilt onto her own shoulders, apparently thinking she should have been able to deal with a man who could give Richard Dragon a run for his money all by herself.

Her own daughter, Rose, was also obviously shaken up over her biological father, Slade Wilson, making an appearance in their city, even though she was in no way responsible for that piece of garbage’s actions. ‘ Tonight is going to be a cuddling, cookie dough, and Monty Python night when we get home.’

The only ones who seemed to be keeping a decent sense of perspective were Tim, Sandra and Stephanie, though Harley reminded herself they might just be better at hiding how they were feeling. The former Harley Quinn sighed but set a determined glint in her eye; they were all being self-sacrificing idiots, but they were her self-sacrificing idiots. She slipped her hand into Ivy’s and gave it a squeeze, earning a small smile from her wife. This was Harley’s family, and she was going to make sure they were all okay. 

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Suburb Outside Metropolis, Nuvo-Gen Facility, Day after Halloween

In a nondescript office block, on an ordinary street, there lay a hidden lair that any supervillain would envy. On the surface Nuvo-Gen was a cutting-edge genetic research start-up, offering brand new treatments in gene therapy. Just under the surface, the edge went from cutting to bleeding, as their hyper secure labs housed perhaps the most advanced human cloning facilities on the planet. Given the clandestine nature of such places, it was hard to know where the competition stood. 

Half a dozen secret labs lay in a hidden sub-basement, concealed beneath the public façade. Meta-gene splicing, xeno-genetic research, unethical cloning projects and more were worked on side by side in that place. It wasn’t nearly on the scale the once thriving Project Cadmus had been some years ago, but unlike that doomed black ops initiative, the mad thinkers of Nuvo-Gen were still continuing their work. 

In one of those labs, the usual coterie of semi-mad scientists working there had been dismissed for the day, leaving only the director of the facility, Dr. Emil Hamilton, and his currently very irate, secret financial backer. A tall dark-haired woman in traditional green robes at odds with the hi-tech surroundings stared down at the bearded man in a lab coat, a sneer marring her beautiful features. 

“Your creation failed,” Talia snapped. “We paid for a perfect clone of the traitor, and the one you gave us barely lasted a single night.”

Hamilton glowered back at her, “you were the one who changed your mind and wanted a rush job. Accelerated aging any organism at that rate destabilizes it on the cellular level.” He gestured to the small blonde girl of toddler age floating in the amber liquid filled tank behind him, “why do you think project Galatea is taking years? We learned from Cadmus’s early failures with Project Match and Project Kr. If you accelerate the clone past three times the natural rate of aging, errors begin to accumulate. Project Heretic was the equivalent of four years old when you decided you wanted him combat ready in two months; this was bound to happen.”

The assassin stalked away from him, refusing to admit her failure to the pathetic little man. “And, now that Project Cadmus is gone, you and your people are reliant on Leviathan for Nuvo-Tech’s existence. Without our money and connections, most of your staff would be sitting in prison. We are well within our rights to demand results.”

Emil sighed, before saying, “all is not entirely lost. Project Heretic has produced two viable specimens, and the secondary is still developing. Of course, I strongly urge you against having it aged past the safe limit if you don’t want a repeat of what happened on Halloween. It’s equivalent to four now, and with flash learning, it will be a healthy, combat ready replacement for your son in a mere two years.” Ten wasn’t the usual age one thought of for a combatant, but the League of Assassins liked to start their members early.

“I have no children,” Talia muttered. She didn’t know where she’d gone wrong, but neither Damian nor Marinette showed her the filial respect she was owed. She’d foolishly gotten her hopes up when she’d rediscovered Marinette, but the ungrateful girl proved to be just as infected by her father’s weakness as Damian had become. They had both abandoned their birthright, and the right to call themselves children of the Demon.

Hamilton straightened his tie and tried to regain some of his composure. Talia bursting in that morning, sword in hand, had somewhat ruffled the feathers of the one-time STAR labs scientist. “Project Sportsmen is also continuing apace, and given the reduced need for individual thought, we’ve succeeded in achieving accelerated mass production. You will have the necessary manpower to make Leviathan the ascendent power.” Hopefully feeding good news would ameliorate the deadly woman, and he could go another few months without having to deal with her.

Emil Hamilton had never thought his life would reach the point where he was making clone soldiers for an emotionally unstable master assassin, but it had. Once upon a time he’d been a senior scientist at STAR Labs, and Superman’s technical advisor. He’d worked with the Kryptonian even longer than the Justice League had been around, and he’d been proud to help the alien protector, once.

‘ Before I understood the danger he posed,’ Emil remembered. His misgivings had built over time, as he saw the Justice League form and accumulate more and more powered individuals, gods among men. (It didn’t help his mental state at the time that his attempt to found his own private company had ended in bankruptcy, and his marriage ended in divorce, but the scientist didn’t consciously connect such things to his growing paranoia about superheroes.)

By the time Superman’s league was establishing their base on the moon, staring down at humanity like they were ants, Hamilton’s heart fully hardened against his former friend. The final spark for his decision to work with Waller and secretly join Project Cadmus had been the appearance of a Supergirl, showing Superman wasn’t a last survivor, but the first piece of a malignant Kryptonian tumor.

He glanced back at his private project. The Kryptonians had the power to shield and serve humanity, but they couldn’t be trusted with it. Just as Luthor had backed the creation of Superboy as part of a plan to create a replacement for Superman loyal to him, Emil’s clone of Supergirl would properly harness that power as a tool for humanity. ‘ And I won’t let this one out of the tube before proper controls are in place.’

Talia glared at him, “and that work is the only reason you continue to live.” Talia had brought a significant number of Assassins into her shadow organization Leviathan, but it was far from a majority of the League. If she wanted to challenge her father openly for control, she would need manpower and Nuvo-Gen was the fastest way to get that. She had hoped to have her daughter trained over the next few years to lead that army, but her plans would have to be rearranged. As it stood her schemes were already going to take a set back from the failed operation in Gotham; she didn’t think her father would recognize it for the beginnings of a coup that it was, but such a large-scale action without his approval would come with certain punishments.

She would endure, as she always had and live to prove her worthiness another day. Her ungrateful spawn, Nyssa, and her illustrious father would all learn there was only one deserving heir to the Head of the Demon, and it was Talia Al Guhl. 

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That Night, Wayne Manor

The night after Halloween was one of slowly releasing tension in Gotham, on high alert after the widespread pandemonium of the night before. Loss of life had been blessedly small, though of course in a city the size of Gotham you never had a deathless night, and the city’s heroes had contained the worst of the destruction. The major areas that would be in need of repairs by the often-overtaxed urban works department were the downtown storefronts and road that had been smashed up when Plasmus first appeared on the scene, and the damage done to Arkham Asylum’s outer perimeter.

 For Mari, that Saturday was a strange one. On the one hand, everything with Talia the night before had really shaken her, but on the other, she’d never felt more comfortable, more at home in Wayne Manor. It was like a dream she’d been living in had suddenly turned solid, unmoving and stable. This was her house now, where her family lived, and for the first time she really trusted that was never going to change. 

She was still recovering from her injuries, as were many of the family, but she wasn’t bedbound. Alfred had told her that by no means did she and Damian have to start dusting the portrait gallery right away, but she was always restless when she didn’t have something to do. So, after a quiet morning, she’d spent some of the afternoon dusting the old paintings of her ancestors.

There were a mix of single portraits and family shots, with the art style shifting as you went through the centuries. It was still insane for the girl who grew up in an orphanage and later foster care, her birth parents listed as unknown, to suddenly have such a concrete ancestry. She occasionally mimicked the poses of the subjects in the paintings, much to Plagg’s amusement, to see if she could see any family resemblance.

At the end of the row there were several paintings that really took ahold of her interest. The first was of a young Bruce, no more than seven, happily posing with his mother Martha and father Thomas. It was strange, looking at the grandparents she would never meet. ‘ I didn’t get my parents till I was 13, but Dad only had his until he turned 8.’

Then there were quite a few family portraits of the modern-day Waynes, the artist apparently having to come back out every time their family grew. First it was just a stern Bruce and a somber Aunt Kate flanking Alfred, the only one who’d bothered to show a smile. Then it changed.

The next painting had a nervous, utterly tiny, version of her oldest brother in a suit, a happier Bruce to one side and Selina on the other. The next one added a smirking Jason, and showed Dick aged to around Mari’s age. Then there was a real explosion, with Barbara, Cass, Tim and Steph all appearing at once, starting to really crowd the frame. The next one had Carrie in Selina’s lap and an infant Helena in Bruce’s. The penultimate painting featured Duke, and Damian, scowling even more than Bruce in the first picture, and the last painting finally added Harper, sandwiched between Dick and Stephanie, smiling brightly.

‘ Well, I guess I know what the Picture Day Babs added to my calendar is for,’ Mari thought, her eyes getting just a bit misty at the notion they were getting a whole ass formal painting done just to include her. ‘ I wonder if Kori and Dinah will join us?’ Sure, the later paintings were starting to resemble a Where’s Waldo page but it warmed her heart to see their family grow. 

She hadn’t made a lot of headway with the dusting, both getting distracted looking at the portraits, and being pretty tired from yesterday’s fight. Before long, it had been time for dinner, delivery sushi since Alfred was also naturally quite exhausted from tending to everyone else nonstop, and while the mood in the house was still down, the food had been nice.

Mari had turned in early and drifted off to sleep fairly quickly but now she was once again awake. Turning to her side, she saw from the clock that it was a bit past midnight. Much of the family would be out patrolling, and she hated that she wasn’t allowed to be with them, but she understood her parents’ concern. For one, she was still recovering and would just be a liability; Dick was on the bench too, sleeping down the hall in his room at the Manor with Starfire. Still, she was quite used to being active this time of night, and her body was resisting sleep. Plus she kind of needed to use the bathroom, so she rose and swung her feet over the edge of her bed.

Letting Plagg continue to snooze on the little velvet pillow Alfred had kindly set up for him on her nightstand, Mari rubbed the sleep from her eyes and got up to go to the bathroom and get a drink of water. She was hoping to get it, do her business and get back to sleep quickly, still quite fatigued from her fight with her birth mother the night before, but when she opened the door to her room, she almost tripped over the curled-up form of Carrie, sitting, holding her legs, just on the other side.

“Wah,” she blurted as she stopped herself just before walking into the little red head. “Carrie, what are you doing out here?” 

Carrie, clad in paw-print pajamas, looked up at her with red, slightly watery eyes, but quickly smiled and said, “oh, Mari! Sorry to be in your way, I was….. I was planning a prank! Right, I was totally about to go, uh, switch Tim and Cass’s slippers so they’d be all confused in the morning.”

Mari raised a skeptical eyebrow and lowered herself to sit next to her little sister. “Your prank was going to be, switching their slippers?” Sure, it might be funny enough for a half smile to see Tim wearing Cass’s Supergirl branded slippers in the morning, but it was an extremely mild bit of mischief compared to Carrie’s usual creativity. “And you just decided to take a break halfway down the hall in front of my room?”

“Ye-es?” Carrie answered slowly, clinging to the obvious lie.

“Carrie, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Marinette asked as she shuffled over closer to the younger girl. 

The normally boisterous and bright Carrie’s voice got very small as she quietly replied, “I was afraid she was going to come back and take you. I couldn’t sleep.”

In that moment, Marinette’s heart broke for her sister and she reached out to put her arm around Carrie’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m safe and I’m not going anywhere.” She believed those words and tried to let her conviction reach the obviously scared girl.

Carrie rubbed her eye, trying to act tough, “it’s stupid I know. The Manor has enough security to stop Uncle Clark. I’m being childish.”

“You’re allowed,” Mari gently told her. It was easy to forget, with how insanely smart and capable Carrie was for her age, but she was still a preteen kid. Pretty much everyone in their family aside from Helena and Alfred had had to grow up too quickly in one way or another; ‘ we had to learn to take care of ourselves, but we’re not alone anymore.’

“I was on the comms,” Carrie admitted. “Babs tried to send me up to bed but I snuck back down and when the shit hit the fan, she didn’t have time to spare to send me back. I didn’t want to miss all the excitement of a Gotham Halloween.” Her last words were bitter. 

Mari grimaced; she herself hadn’t been able to listen to everything happening on the mainline, needing to focus on the immediate situation around her, but listening to all that had to be rough for Barbara, Alfred and Carrie. Remembering Selina her mom’s own words to her the night before, Mari said “You can’t blame yourself. There wasn’t anything you could have done, sis.”

“That’s the problem!” Carrie protested, throwing her hands out in exasperation. “I’ve been training for years, longer than Harper! I should have been out there with you, not sitting around on my hands.” The almost 12-year-old was still a year short of being allowed into the field.

Lady Noire frowned, sympathizing with Carrie’s feelings, which in many ways mirrored her own. She hated the feeling she wasn’t pulling her weight, and hated being benched while her mom, dad, aunts and many siblings were still out there facing danger. Unfortunately, her family were wanting to cut back on her, Harper, and Damian’s patrols as it was; she doubted they were going to let Carrie don her costume a day before she turned 13.

She couldn’t fix that for her sister, but she’d still do her absolute best to comfort her. She squeezed Carrie affectionately and then looked down into her eyes, dark emerald eyes locking with pale clover. “I can’t change the rules, and I can’t promise we won’t be attacked by my insane birth parent again, but I can promise that I will always do my best to come home to you. You’re my little sister, and I’ve really started to like having one.” She shared a mischievous smile, “I mean, who else is going to keep our older siblings from getting big heads?”

Carrie smiled softly before it turned into her more usual cocky grin, “thanks, sis. And you’re right, I’m delightful. Want to help me with a bit of mischief to clear out all this negative funk?”

Mari cocked her head, “swapping their slippers?”

“Nah,” Carrie replied, “that’s not nearly clever enough for a pair of Cats. Let's get a little creative.”

Marinette wasn’t really a natural prankster, but if it would cheer her precious little sister up, she’d put a kick me sign on Superman’s cape. “You’re on!”

By the end of the night, the pair had shorted Jason’s sheets, swapped around all the contact names in Tim’s phone, snuck catnip into the hidden compartment (intended to hide emergency gear) of Duke’s shoes so the cats would follow him, and rigged a can of silly string to spray Stephanie when she opened her door. Their little pranking spree only came to a stop when they crept into Cassandra’s, who had also been kept on the bench that night, room with a can of shaving cream. Their older sister just opened one eye, freezing the pair in place, before smiling and throwing back her covers. Having worked out their nervous energy by that point, Carrie and Mari shrugged, dropped the can and joined Cass in bed to cuddle and finally drift off to sleep. 

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Gemworld, Same Time

It had been two days since Princess Amethyst slew Dark Opal and the celebration was still raging throughout the land. In the Emerald villages, people danced in the streets, In the Aquamarine Archipelego merchants had sold their entire store of fireworks, and in the previously occupied lands of Amethyst, they’d drunk through half the country’s wine stores. 

There was still work to be done, of course. Opal, Ruby, Sapphire and Topaz troops were surrendering in droves, but some pockets were still holding out. As all of Dark Opal’s curses and enchantments unraveled, everyone had to adjust to a radically changed status quo. Lady Emmy was already setting up a criminal tribunal to start the long process of sorting out who had allied with Dark Opal willingly, who had been coerced, and what the punishments should be. 

For Amaya though, none of it really registered, neither the joy of success, nor the waiting work of reconstruction. She had yet to even leave the occupation camp set up on the ruins of Castle Opal, despite her homeland eagerly anticipating the return of their prodigal heir and savior. Instead, she stayed in her tent, seeing only her closest allies and the strange sorceress from Earth who had been in the chamber with Amethyst and Lady Turquoise when the final blow was struck.

Chloe stared at the canvas wall opposite her, not having even gotten out of her bedroll that morning. On some level she’d always understood the goal had been Dark Opal’s death, but she’d never said it plainly. They talked of defeating him, vanquishing him, not the plain ugly truth of stabbing a man to death. 

She told herself he was hardly a man, so twisted with dark magic that he’d abandoned his humanity. She reminded herself he was a tyrant who’d caused the deaths of thousands, and tortured and oppressed countless more. He’d personally slain her birth parents and tried to kill her with all his might. None of that kept her from seeing his unnatural black blood on her hands, no matter how much she washed. 

“We missed you at breakfast,” Zatanna said from the tent flap, ducking into Chloe’s little shelter of solitude. 

“I wasn’t hungry,” Amethyst mumbled. She should be happy; she’d won. She’d vanquished a great evil, claimed her birthright and soon she could finally go home. She just couldn’t shake the sight of Opal from her mind whenever she closed her eyes.

Zatanna sat cross legged next to the girl and after a moment said, “I’ve killed before.”

Chloe sat up partially to stare at her. Zatanna was a hero, was quickly becoming her hero, and the idea she was a killer was a hard one to square. Eventually she just asked, “who?” Then after a second, she added, “why?”

Zee steepled her hands as she cast her thoughts back to an unpleasant chapter in her life. “I was young and very overconfident. My father had recently passed,” she chose not to share how her father, Giovanni Zatara, had sacrificed his life to save hers, at least not for today. “I’d inherited his books, powerful grimoires I wasn’t ready for. I…. thought I had found a spell that would allow me to speak with his spirit, and in my foolishness, I conducted a séance.”

Chloe stared at her with rapt attention, sitting up fully and leaning forward, “what happened?”

The older witch stared off into the middle distance, losing herself in her memories. “The ritual needed four people to work, and a few friends offered to help. They were like me, young and headstrong; we all thought we would be the next Merlin. We all thought we were invincible.” She turned to look at Chloe, “the ritual was a trap, and the thing we summoned was not my father, it was a monstrous shapeshifting elemental known as the Formless One, who had been trapped in the astral plane in ages past. His true name was Gwyndion, and before my eyes he slaughtered my friends before fleeing to wreak havoc on the mortal realm.”

“But you didn’t kill them!” Chloe protested, “I mean, I understand feeling guilty, but that was a mistake, not murder.”

“I felt like I had,” Zee said softly, the guilt for what her hubris had wrought still haunting her, “but that wasn’t what I was talking about. Gwyndion was a creature of pure chaos, and taking care of him was my responsibility. I hunted him, fought with him, and when the time came, I destroyed him so he couldn’t hurt anyone else.”

Chloe stared down at her hands, pensive. “…it was a monster, right? I mean, I killed a human, you just, like, vanquished an eldritch abomination.”

Zee put a hand on her shoulder, “they weren’t so different, little one. Gwyndion was monstrous but he was a thinking individual, and Opal may have started life as a man but he had traded away much of his humanity by the time we crossed his path. There was no ready jail that could hold either of them, and every second they lived threatened countless others. I’m not trying to justify murder; I still question whether there was another way, whether I did the right thing, but I’m trying to let you know I understand what you’re feeling, at least a little bit.”

A long silence followed as Chloe tried to process all that and Zatanna just sat with her. Eventually she muttered, “Mari never would have done it. She, she would never take a life.” ‘ And could she ever love someone who has?’ 

“It’s an admirable code to follow,” Zatanna agreed, thinking of her own respect for Bruce’s iron clad no-kill rule. “And one you can still choose to follow if you want to, Chloe. What happened in a moment of crisis doesn’t have to define your life. I once met a girl trained as an assassin, taught nothing but violence from birth.” Zee was paraphrasing the background of Cassandra Wayne, without revealing her identity. “She was made to take her first life at a terribly young age, and when she did, she swore never to do so again. I have seldom met another individual more committed to life.”

Chloe considered it. She wasn’t sure if she’d done the right thing. So much evil magic was tied to Dark Opal’s life, and she’d never encountered a more sinister creature. He made Hawkmoth look like a petty burglar in comparison. On the other hand, he was still a person, still someone Amethyst had struck the fatal blow against. ‘ And yet….’ Zatanna had a point; what had happened didn’t have to define her future.

“I won’t do it again,” she decided, her voice hard with resolve, “I can’t.”

The sorceress frowned for just a moment, the grim realities that came with confronting supernatural foes flashing through her mind, but she made a silent decision of her own. She’d protect Chloe from having to make that kind of decision again. “That sounds like a plan.” The pair sat in companionable quiet for a moment.

“Yes, by the way,” Chloe said into the silence.

Zatanna looked down at her, perplexed, “yes to what?”

“When we get back, I’d like to stay with you,” Chloe explained before hesitantly adding, “if that offer still stands.”

Zatanna smiled and tried to resist misting up a little, “of course it does, little one.” There was more she wanted to say, but she held her tongue for now. Chloe was processing a lot and she wanted the lost princess to have all the time she needed before dropping more on her. Instead she just sat their with the younger woman and let her mind daydream about waking up to a house with Chloe in it, instead of yet another empty hotel room. Little moments, shared meals, magic practice, maybe even a movie night. It couldn’t help but make her smile.

GRUMBLE

An embarrassed expression replaced the solemn one Chloe had worn all morning and she asked, “uh, was there anything left over from breakfast?”

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Wayne Manor, A Week After Halloween, Early November

“Hey,” Selina murmured against Bruce’s chest.

“Hmm?” a still sleepy Bruce replied. He’d been in the cowl more than usual the last week, covering for the changed schedule and running down every bit of information he could find about the League of Assassins. 

“I forgot to say it before, since things were so insane on Halloween,” Selina said, “but guess what?”

“What?” Bruce asked back. The couple were in their master bedroom, preparing for a much-needed rest. It was still rather early in the evening for them, but they were bone tired. That night Diana had squeezed into Selina’s costume to help cover, and J’onn had shifted into an approximation of Batman’s form. Catwoman and Batman didn’t patrol every night normally, but after the crisis, they wanted to show the flag so to speak. 

“Marinette totally called me mom first,” Selina boasted happily. She would always let her children call her whatever they were comfortable with, but she felt a certain amount of petty pride when she got called mom before Bruce got called dad. 

“By half a day,” Bruce mumbled, having unexpectedly gotten called dad a while after Marinette emerged from the med bay. He felt a bit guilty accepting the title, given he’d allowed his daughter to get injured, but it made him smile regardless.

“It still counts,” Selina gloated. “Speaking of though, I talked to her, and she asked me to sign the official adoption papers. Do you have time this week?” While she had long emotionally considered Mari her child, legally she was just her stepmother and had reduced rights if something happened to Bruce, which was an unfortunate possibility considering their lifestyle. The paperwork would make it official, and make sure Selina was allowed in to see her in hospital, could sign all forms for her child, and if the worst happened, would retain custody of Marinette. Given Talia had just tried to snatch her away, she wanted that bit of security.

“I’ll ask the lawyers but I’m sure we’ll find an hour to rubber stamp it,” Bruce replied. It was a less dramatic adoption than some of their others, but one he took no less seriously. Mari was trusting them to be her parents; she’d let them in and they would need to live up to that trust.

Selina traced lazy circles on her husband’s chest with her finger. After a moment, in a softer voice she said, “I’m really glad you found her. I didn’t know I had another kid out there, but now that she’s here, I just wish we’d had her sooner.” Selina would never begrudge her children the lives they’d had before coming to her and Bruce, particularly those of them who’d had a good first set of parents, but a part of her would always regret she hadn’t gotten to have all of them from the start. The fact that she would have been changing Barbara’s diapers when she was only ten years old, didn’t stop her from daydreaming about it. ‘ It’s fine, they’re home now, and that’s what matters.’

Bruce pulled Selina a little tighter against him, a real smile reaching his face. “I hardly did anything. She found us.” The couple relaxed into one another, two very tired parents finally falling into a well-deserved sleep.

=

Elsewhere in the Manor, Steph and Jason were slipping glitter bombs into Carrie and Mari’s equipment lockers in the Batcave as a bit of belated revenge. Duke had fallen asleep on top of the copy of Moby Dick he’d been trying to force into his brain so he could write the book report due the following Monday and Harper and Marinette sat by the fire with Alfred, listening to the trusty butler regale them with tales from their dad’s youth and Alfred’s own colorful past. 

Damian, inwardly fuming about his benching, had wanted to spend all his time training in the cave, but a disapproving look from Dick earlier in the day before Nightwing returned to his own apartment, had the nature loving boy walking the Manor’s grounds with Titus and Ace instead. Carrie had decided to join him and the pair of younger Waynes were finding some solace in the tranquility of the wooded landscape,

Cass was patrolling with ‘Catwoman’ and the recovering Dick was running comms from Bab’s apartment so he could simultaneously make sure Barbara, who had pulled a muscle in therapy earlier that day, rested while Black Canary was out in the field. She was joined by the two incognito heroes, J’onn and Diana, Black Orchid and Mockingbird, the whole Kane side of the family, (Troia and Wondergirl borrowing Batgirl and Lady Noire’s costumes with appropriate wigs) and Katana who had stuck around in town to help out and annoy her friend Dinah.

That left the Batcave uncharacteristically empty that evening, save for one figure diligently typing away at the Batcomputer. He’d started this project on his networked laptop, but decided to take advantage of the rare opportunity to use the nicer multiple monitor setup of the main hub. It wasn’t rare that Tim should use the main Batcomputer; he probably sat in the big chair more than anyone besides Barbara or Bruce, but it was a rare opportunity to do so unobserved.

See, the project Tim was currently working on was one he knew his parents, and likely most of the rest of his family wouldn’t approve of. Everyone responded to fear in their own ways. Jason gritted his teeth and pushed through, Bruce buried it deep and let it fuel him, Stephanie trained like a mad woman until she could conquer it. Tim? Tim was a planner. Talia’s attack had rattled everyone in the Manor, and he hadn’t stopped devising a counterattack since.

He knew taking on Ras Al Guhl directly was fatally dangerous, not to mention nearly impossible. If the Demon’s Head was so easily defeated his parents would have done so on their own ages ago or brought the JL to help. Unfortunately, Ras and his Assassins were like a great amorphous dark shadow, enormously powerful but maddeningly insubstantial when you tried to grab hold of them.

They had an untold number of secret bases stretched across the globe, staffed by fanatically loyal, incredibly deadly assassins. In some places they quietly controlled local authorities, in others their agents infiltrated the criminal underworld. You could not defeat the demon, because the body was massive, and the head would only be found when he wanted to. Besides, even if you managed to somehow slay the immortal martial arts master, his acolytes need only dip him in his green jacuzzi to bring him back again.

As much as the Batfamily opposed the League of Assassins, it was fair to say that before Halloween they’d settled into an uneasy cold war with them. They would certainly fight when they crossed paths and Batwoman, Batman and Catwoman had foiled more than their share of Ras’s doomsday plots over the years, but, before last week, neither group had launched a direct assault against the other since the scuffle over Damian’s parental rights. 

That attempt by Talia to lay claim to a child she wished to use as her weapon and heir lay at the heart of this more recent confrontation too, and Tim wasn’t going to take it lying down. She had tried to steal his sister, been happy to have another murdered as a fucking distraction, and sicced some evil doppelganger on the overly serious little brother he’d come to love once he’d gotten a bit less stabby. 

‘ Sure, dad says he and Aunt Kate are investigating the League, but they’re just hoping that this was an isolated incident’ Tim reasoned. He wasn’t willing to kick the problem down the road; Ras Al Guhl was possibly the greatest threat to his family living on the Earth, and Tim was going to see that zombie bastard finally neutralized for good.

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118 Battery Park NYC, Justice Society Hall, November

“She’s pushing herself too fast,” Dinah moaned as she slumped her head against the built-in bar in the lounge room. She wasn’t drunk, having only had a single whiskey sour, but she was exhausted. The heroine had gotten out of Gotham for an afternoon after work, while Babs went to her PT session. Dick and Donna were picking her up after for a movie night at the Titans Tower, and while Dinah had been invited to join, she’d bowed out for the evening. She sometimes still felt like she was intruding with that tight knit group, and besides, she needed a moment to clear her head.

New York was a decent sized town, though as it was overshadowed by sitting between Metropolis and Gotham, it had a quaint feel that always calmed her. She knew the original JSA had chosen to base their operations there to split the difference between the two biggest urban centers on the East Coast, but it always struck her as kind of funny for the world’s first big superhero team to be based in such a modest city.

“Like you couldn’t have predicted that,” her best friend Maxine said from behind the bar as she poured Dinah another drink. The willowy redhead otherwise known as Cyclone was graciously lending an ear to Black Canary’s woes.

The pair were alone in the old clubhouse, which sat entirely empty some days. The JSA was no longer an active superhero team and acted more like a social club for the surviving members and their descendants. The whole building was held in trust by the Dodds estate and a service did routine upkeep, but it wasn’t the hub of activity it once was. 

“I predicted it, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it,” Dinah complained, lifting her head. “Babs is a genius, smartest woman I’ve ever met, but she’s so stupid about her own health. I love her to death, but if she keeps burning the candle at both ends like this, she’s going to burn out.” Ever since Halloween, Babs hadn’t been keeping to the plan of cutting back her work as Oracle, and if anything had been spending more hours delving through cyberspace. Add to that her rush to complete her physical therapy ahead of schedule, and Dinah was really worried for her fiancé.

Maxine gave her a look, “so talk to her. If you sit her down and express your concerns, I guarantee she’ll listen to you. She may not care about her own wellbeing like she should, but that girl thinks you hung the moon and the stars in the sky.”

Dinah sighed, “I know, I’m just not looking forward to that conversation. Tonight’s the first time she’s relaxed enough to do something fun in weeks and I don’t want to ruin it by getting into a fight when we go home.” 

“Yo, old people!” a voice called from the banister of the viewing gallery above them. Considering she was only 25 and this building was often populated with veterans of the Second World War, Dinah wondered if she should be offended but decided to let Stargirl’s, who was currently sliding down the stair banister to meet them, words roll off her back. Courtney could be a brat, but she was like a little sister to Max and Dinah, so they put up with it.

“Which one of you wants to let me crash on your couch for a week after Christmas?” Stargirl asked as she slid to a stop in front of them, casually twirling her star rod around before leaning against it.

Maxine crossed her arms, “and why are you trying to move into one of our apartments instead of sleeping, you know, at your own home in your own bed?” When her mother remarried, Courtney had an initially bumpy relationship with her stepfather, Pat, but as far as Cyclone knew they were in a good place these days, so she didn’t immediately know why Courtney would need a place to stay.

Courtney groaned and took a seat at the bar next to Dinah, “Ugh, because mom and Pat are going on vacation to Toronto and if I don’t find anywhere to stay, they’re going to make me go with them.”

“And that’s a problem because?” Maxine asked, wondering why Courtney was trying to get out of a vacation. 

“Because she doesn’t want to be a third wheel with her folks,” Dinah guessed, well remembering similar scenarios when she’d been a teenager. The desire for independence, plus a general uncomfortability some people felt seeing their parents get romantic could be a potent mixture. 

“Exactly, Dinah gets it!” Courtney exclaimed. “Plus, Pat’s totally going to make me leave the Staff at home, and I’ve been looking forward to getting some serious time in as Stargirl over winter break for like forever!” She turned to Dinah with puppy dog eyes, “so please, please, please can I stay with you? We can totally team up! Black Canary and Stargirl, saving Gotham one crime at a time!”

“Hey, Court,” Maxine began, trying to let her younger friend down easy and give Dinah an out, “I’m sure Dinah would love to let you colonize her couch, but she and Babs are pretty busy right now.” Between getting ready for the wedding in January and Babs’ physical therapy, dropping a teenage superhero into their home was probably piling on too much. Max would let Courtney stay with her, but she was going to be going home to Rhode Island for the holidays to visit her folks and little sister Traya. 

“Oh, shit,” Courtney said with a pout, “I totally forgot you live with a civilian. I mean, she knows you’re Black Canary, right? So, I guess it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she knows my secret identity, even if Pat’s gonna chew me out about it… Ooh! No, just tell her I’m your cousin or a family friend and I can totally bluff, hide the rod somewhere and she never needs to know!”

Dinah opened her mouth to regrettably turn Courtney away, when a slightly diabolical thought occurred to her. ‘ Court doesn’t know Babs is O. If Court’s in our apartment, Barbara won’t be able to bring Oracle work home with her and might actually be forced to relax and rest a bit…’ Was it a manipulative thing to do? Sure, but at this point she was willing to try anything to get her workaholic soulmate to pump the breaks a little for her own good. 

The older blonde smiled, “if it's fine with your parents, you can absolutely come stay with us. It will give you and Barbara a chance to get to know each other before the wedding. I’ll make up the guest room.”

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Gotham Sewers, That Night

PEW! PEW! PEW!

Silencers, at least the ones you could get your hands on without having access to truly cutting-edge tech, didn’t really make a pistol shot silent like they did in the movies. That gunpowder explosion couldn’t be fully eliminated, but it could be deadened and so the silencer still had its uses. Red Hood typically didn’t bother with them, preferring to use speed and planning to avoid attracting unwanted cops or capes, but he was an adaptable man. He unscrewed the still smoking extension to his pistol’s barrel with practiced ease. 

The recently made corpse in front of him dropped against the slick sewer wall, blood oozing from the two bullet holes in his chest and the third one between his eyes. Before he died, he’d been an undercover officer of the GCPD attempting to embed himself in Hood’s growing organization. The crime boss had known who he really was from the start, due to his own mole in the police force, but decided to string the idiot along for a while so the Commissioner wouldn’t immediately suspect Hood had a full list of all their undercover operatives in his possession.

The man’s last report would be that he was accompanying Hood to a meeting with an unknown potential criminal business partner. With how often that kind of meeting went south, it would be easy to assume he’d been caught in a shoot out when his bloated waterlogged corpse was eventually fished out of the sewer outflow. Hood gave the corpse a firm kick and sent it tumbling into the water to float away. It had been a professional killing. ‘ I wonder if dad would be proud?’

Hood holstered his 9-millimeter, one of many weapons hidden on his person and readjusted his leather gloves. The HUD of his helmet let him know his little diversion to deal with his mole problem hadn’t messed up his timeline; he was still on track to arrive for his meeting with the Court ahead of schedule. He was careful not to get too reliant on that particular piece of kit, but he had to admit the helmet was a solid piece of tech that did more than obscure his identity. ‘ Humie does good work.’

He wove his way through the labyrinthine passages of Gotham’s sewer system, eventually leaving the more modern sections for ancient cisterns and decommissioned pipe junctions from an earlier century. He wasn’t relishing this meeting, (it was something his mentor had arranged), but his father had always taught him the importance of punctuality. ‘ If only you practiced what you preached, old man.’

Something about the night had him feeling nostalgic. Maybe he’d slaughter a cat or two on his way back to his safehouse for old times sake. Arriving at his destination, an unremarkable stretch of old cinder block wall, he knocked five times. There was a shift as the masonry façade shifted aside, sliding open on hydraulics to reveal the entrance to what appeared to be a well appointed modern sitting room complete with a drinks cart manned by a masked servant.

Actually, everyone in the room was masked, including Hood. There were five of them in all there to meet him, though he assumed the two heavily armored and armed figures standing at the back of the room wouldn’t be doing much of the talking.

The ‘Talons’ as the Court oh so cutely called their muscle, were just there to provide security for the remaining three. If he’d been so inclined, Hood thought he could have killed everyone in the room anyway, but if the illusion of security helped this go smoothly, all the better. 

“Welcome, Mr. Hood, we’ve been expecting you,” one of the other two people in the room drawled in that distinctive upper-crust Gothamite accent you only got after your family had money for generations. She was a slender woman in a red sequined dress with a blonde updo, and most strikingly an owl faced mask obscuring her features. She lounged on a chez-lounge and to her left was a tuxedoed gentleman with salt and pepper hair and an identical mask. 

Hood crossed his arms and didn’t bother sitting down. The Court of Owls were the ones to reach out for this meeting, so he’d let them make the first move. His plan for ultimate revenge didn’t really require the overly proud fat-cats but antagonizing them could lead to the Eyes-Wide-Shut wannabes becoming an unwanted distraction. Still, he said nothing for the moment, not intending to make the first move. 

The man broke first, “we’ve watched your moves with interest. Of course, the movements of common criminals are beneath our notice most of the time, but the manner in which you have built your little organization has been rather exceptional by comparison.”

Red Hood resolved in that moment to eventually kill the man, who he identified by his personalized cufflinks as Joseph Powers, for the implied insults and condescending tone, but he tucked that thought away for later. Instead, he cocked his masked head slightly and said, “and what interest do the Owls have with me?”

The Court of Owls was one part secret society, one-part old boys club and one part criminal conspiracy. It had supposedly been founded sometime in the 1800s, by a collection of at the time nouveau riche families, who over the years became as much a part of the city’s de-facto aristocracy as the founding families. Their goal was controlling the city from the shadows and pursuing power and wealth for themselves, and while they liked to dress themselves up as some august bordering on occult organization, Red Hood frankly found them pathetic.

‘ Like a bunch of socialites with generational wealth even need a secret society to perpetuate their wealth.’ Beyond that, according to his benefactor, the Court’s power had been waning for years. Funnily enough the very Bats who had steadily curbed the power of traditional organized crime, something most of the Court dismissed as unimportant ‘capes and tights shenanigans’, were arguably responsible for it. 

Not that any of the Court of Owls would know, but the Bats had another set of identities, as the Waynes and Kanes of Gotham, and those sparkling socialites certainly were a thorn in the Owls side. The Wayne Foundation and Kane United Charities had made significant strides in reshaping the city and undoing much of the work the Court did to solidify the unfair status quo the Owls had long benefited from. 

“I’ll cut to the chase,” the woman, who was at least competent enough not to wear obvious identifying marks, said, pulling a small envelope from her beaded handbag. “You are aware of us because of your association with a former member of our flock. We would be well within our rights to have the Talons eliminate you for possessing that forbidden knowledge, but the Parliament has decided we can be of use to one another.”

She handed the envelope to Red Hood, who slid it open and scanned the page within with one eye while the other stayed trained on the motionless Talons. The woman continued, “You are seeking greater financial resources, and affirmation of the title you claim. We can assist with both in one stroke. In return all we ask is for you or your men to eliminate the names on that list in such a way that it appears they were simply, tragically caught up in some gangland violence.”

Hood read the names as he considered the offer, Kate Kane, Diana Kane, Marinette Wayne, Stephanie Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Selina Wayne… etc, etc.’ The theme was apparent and the only ones missing from the set were Helena, Drake and Grayson. 

It was immediately obvious what they were after. The Court wanted to eliminate their most irritating bunch of class traitors, but they didn’t want to poke their heads out into the open to do it. The Talons hadn’t prowled Gotham openly in decades and were usually kept in cryo-sleep. The current Waynes and Kanes had pushed the stuffy old Owls to stop organizing orgies or whatever else they spent their time doing and make a move to reassert their power. However, Red guessed that with the Bats about, the Court didn’t want to step from the shadows and do the deed themselves, letting Gotham’s famed vigilantes know of their existence.

If Hood had normal emotions, he might chuckle at the irony that the Bats they feared and the Waynes and Kanes they were targeting were one and the same, but he instead stood impassively as he considered the offer. Of course, he was also planning to butcher that entire family eventually, but only after he’d torn down everything they’d built around them. He had a timeline, he had plans. 

On the other hand, their offer could be very useful in achieving some of his preliminary goals. His fight against Roman, AKA Black Mask, was taking longer than he wanted and the extra resources would be useful. ‘ Well, they never said WHEN they wanted Brucie, Babsie and the rest dead. Maybe I’ll even dispose of one of the less important ones like the meta or the mute early to tide them over…’

 He smiled under his mask, “I think we can come to an agreement along these lines.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gotham, The Wayne Foundation, The Next Afternoon

‘ …and of course, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell,’ Mari wrote, finishing the last bit of her Biology homework. She’d been plugging away at her assigned work that afternoon while she hung out in her mom’s office after school. Normally she would have just gone home to the Manor, but she’d been curious about what Selina did in her daylight job and asked if she could join her at the Wayne Foundation after class.

So far, it was a lot of meetings. Used to taking catnaps in her office after a long night of hero work, Selina had a very comfortable couch in the corner of her office, and that was mostly where Mari had been hanging out for the past hour and a half while Selina went from video conference to phone call, occasionally throwing an apologetic look Mari’s way.

Finally, as the clock struck twenty minutes past five, Selina wrapped up her call with Victoria Kord, securing her contribution to The Wayne Foundation’s scholarship program. (The prickly tech billionaire was more receptive toward education centered initiatives than towards funding something like the Foundation’s soup kitchens.) She gave Mari a tired smile, “Sorry about that kitten; I did warn you it might be a little boring.”

“Yeah, because running a multi-million-dollar charity is totally unimpressive,” a casually dressed woman with her blonde hair in a messy bun scoffed as she barged into Selina’s office without bothering to knock. “I mean, I guess your kids know you don’t actually run it most of the time, but you do look pretty on all the press materials.” She had a definite East Side Gotham accent, if Mari’s lessons on the various dialects of the city that never slept were sinking in. 

While both of Marinette’s parents had high-powered jobs, they were a lesser priority for both than their night jobs, and certainly a lesser one than their commitments as parents. In light of that, they both essentially delegated much of the day to day running of Wayne Enterprises and The Wayne Foundation to a trusted and extremely well compensated second in command, and only came into the office a few days a week to sign off on things and make certain executive decisions. Those days tended to be quite busy, but it meant the Wayne couple were able to spend their time at home or on the rooftops of Gotham as they preferred.

At Wayne Enterprises that trusted lieutenant was Lucius Fox, but here at The Wayne Foundation, that person was Holly Robinson, the woman who just walked in. You wouldn’t know it from looking at her, considering she was at work in an oversized GCU sweater and sweats, but Holly was the vice chair of the Wayne Foundation and ran the place on a daily basis. 

Selina, who was admittedly dressed immaculately in a chic purple and black power suit, gave the other woman the stink eye before both of them smirked. Despite Holly’s acerbic tone, she was just about the oldest friend Selina had, having grown up together for a time on the streets of Gotham, and they loved each other and loved to give each other shit in equal measure. “I keep telling you we can have your lovely face on the brochures tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Holly waved her off and shot a friendly wink at Mari before passing the file she’d brought in to Selina. “Nah, you’re the one who went all fancy, Mrs. Wayne, and you make such a lovely figurehead. I do better as the actually cool royal vizier type.” While retaining more noticeable roots to her inner-city origins than Selina did these days, Holly could ‘ smarten up’ as it were if she needed to impress some donors, but she very much preferred to get her friend and technical boss to do that while she focused on distributing the money where it would do the most good.

“Well, I’m impressed by what my mother does,” Marinette piped in a little defensively. It might get less of her time, but while she’d been there today it was clear how dedicated and passionate Selina was to their family’s foundation. Learning to navigate the hidden rules of high society, and wring money from hands accustomed to hoarding it was a pretty big accomplishment in her mind.

Selina stuck her tongue out at Holly, “see, Marinette thinks I make a good boss.” She glanced down at the file, a memo on the feasibility of building a new food pantry in the Bowery and made a few quick notes.

Holly rolled her eyes, “yeah, but she’s your daughter. She’s biased.” Still, she gave Mari a friendly smile, “sorry we couldn’t spare anyone to show you around today, kid. It’s grant deadline time right now. If you give us a bit more heads up, I’d be happy to give you the grand tour next time.”

Mari thanked the woman for the offer while her mother looked down at her watch, which Mari knew held a concealed set of lock picks and a length of high-tension wire and frowned. “That’s nice of you, Holls, but it will definitely have to wait for next time. Tori kept me on that call forever and Mari and I need to get going.” 

“A little night-time fun starting early?” Holly asked. Like Lucius, she was aware of her boss’s double life and it did a lot to assuage the annoyance she would have for her apparent flakiness otherwise. (For the record, she thought Selina was crazy for dressing like a cat and fighting crime, instead of just enjoying the ultimate free ride she’d married into, but she still supported her.)

Selina grabbed her purse and coat as she replied, “nope. Mari and I are grabbing bubble tea from that new place on Crowne Street and we want to beat the rush.”

Even though she was personally disappointed that she still wouldn’t be having any ‘night-time fun’, Mari couldn’t help beaming. It wasn’t so much the idea of the bubble tea, although this place was supposed to have some fun flavors, that made her a bit giddy as it was the fact her mom was taking her there. After the first couple of months of her placement with her old foster parents, Sabine had never spent any time with Marinette she didn’t have to. The fact that Selina genuinely wanted to spend her time doing something so casual and inconsequential with Mari, despite being much busier, was something she doubted she’d ever take for granted. 

Mari fell into step next to the older Wayne woman, still wearing her school uniform from earlier in the day. She had her school satchel and her purse, which was both quite fancy as expected for Nettie Wayne, and carrying several concealed tools and a decoy panic button; the backup she’d probably use in an actual emergency was hidden in the heel of her shoe. Selina waved to a few of the stragglers at the office who had yet to clock out for the day before the pair of them stepped into the elevator that would take them down to the carpark where their ride was waiting.

“So,” Selina asked with a raised eyebrow, “was The Wayne Foundation everything you were expecting?” 

Marinette rolled her head from side to side in thought before answering, “it was a bigger operation than I think I’d realized, lots of moving parts to keep track of. I guess it makes all those charity galas feel a bit more worth it.” She didn’t mention the other, secret identity related reason for the galas considering they were somewhat in public and could be eavesdropped upon. Really, as a former street kid and orphan herself, she was most impressed by how heavily involved the Foundation seemed to be in the Foster Care system in Gotham. Though, considering the backstory of most of her siblings, it only made sense the family foundation would be dedicated to helping orphans across the board.

Selina chuckled, “yeah, it can definitely be a lot. When your dad first tried to put me in charge of it, I nearly clawed his eyes out.” The elevator came to a stop and they stepped out into the gated car park and made towards the black Jaguar Selina had driven that morning. She’d appreciated the gesture and Bruce’s reasoning that as someone who’d actually grown up in poverty in Gotham, she had firsthand experience with the kind of help the people needed that he would never have, but it had been more than a tad overwhelming. She ended up relying on advisors a lot at the beginning while she completed a degree in social work, so she could feel at least somewhat qualified for the job beyond her shiny new last name.

‘ It was a better reason to get my bachelor’s than Bruce’s was,’ She recalled with a snort at the memory. Bruce, in his preparation to become Batman, had completed the equivalent of several college degrees, including criminology, forensics, and so on, but never formally completed the course work at a university to earn a diploma. He probably never would have if he hadn’t overheard a young Dick telling an even younger Jason that he didn’t need to go to college since Bruce hadn’t.

No man had ever signed up for classes faster. Within two years of mostly online classes, testing out of a few subjects, and a hefty donation to the university to explain to outside observers how Brucie Wayne had gotten a degree so quickly, he had his bachelor’s in chemistry. Selina slipped into the driver seat while Mari took shotgun. “Sorry again I was so busy when you came in, sweetie,” Selina said as she pulled the car out of the spot. “How was school today?” Maybe it was cliché or overly saccharine but Selina was absolutely the kind of parent who always wanted to know how her kids’ days had been; she hadn’t had that growing up and she’d sworn to do better for her own children.

“Oh, pretty good, mom,” Marinette replied. She was still relishing the fact that she now got to call Selina that. That she now had a mom for real. They’d signed the official adoption paperwork just last week, and now Selina was by law just as much her parent as her dad was.  She shared DNA with Talia, but Selina Wayne was her mother.

As they started to zip away from the office, Mari elaborated a little bit. “Class was fine; we’re doing some interesting experiments with cell structure in Biology. English is going more smoothly than I expected; I guess I’ve been getting plenty of practice. I got stuck working on a group project with Bridgette Davenport in History since Miss McPhearson wouldn’t let us work with our brothers. Oh, and there’s a Club Fair coming up. I wasn’t planning on going, but Harper is dragging me along.” The cheerful ramble was a far cry from the overly hesitant, perfectly polite answers she had given Selina when she first arrived at the Manor.

Gotham Academy, as an exclusive private school for Gotham’s elite, had every resource its pupils could possibly want or need, and played host to nearly every kind of club under the sun. Mari could maybe admit just a teeny passing interest in something like the school’s Fashion Club or the Pop Art Club, but she both didn’t want to cut into her Lady Noire time and was hesitant about getting too enmeshed in school life again.

Back in Paris she’d briefly been the class representative and volunteered for nearly everything, so eager to find a place of belonging at the College Francois Dupont. She’d enjoyed some of it, but some of her school activities had been undertaken more to support her fellow students or to try and fit in. Plus getting kicked out of all of them when she was barred from extracurricular activities as a precursor to her expulsion left a sour taste in her mouth. 

Selina frowned for just a moment, “hmm, do try and go in with an open mind, sweetie.” While Selina was actually fairly supportive of her kids training and getting involved in the ‘family business’ so to speak, she didn’t want them to automatically reject getting involved in normal life activities due to prioritizing it. Unfortunately, Mari was far from the first of her kids to decline getting involved in school activities for that reason. ‘ We might need to pull the Damian special and frame it as something to augment her secret identity’ Selina mused. That had been the only way to get her stubborn son to join the school’s Portraiture Club.

Still, he could sympathize with her daughter’s desire to return to being Lady Noire. Marinette was still finishing out the end of her two-week suspension, which had officially begun after Dr. Thompkins begrudgingly gave her the medical approval. Everyone in the family reacted to getting benched like a cat getting sprayed with water, and Selina was no exception when it happened to her. 

Before long, they arrived at their destination and lucked out to snag some curbside parking. The door chimed cheerily as the pair stepped into the trendy little tea shop, in stark contrast to the glowering expression of the dark-haired young woman manning the counter. Mari winced in sympathy, remembering her own experiences working long hours manning the counter at her foster parents’ bakery on her own. Customer facing and food service jobs could drain even the jolliest person, and it was why Mari always strove to be as considerate as possible to service people. Sure, being a bit dismissive to ‘peons’ would probably fit Nettie Wayne’s icy persona better, but that was a Rubicon she wasn’t going to cross. 

“Hi, welcome to Tea-splosion, would you like to try our new Berry Bubble Blast Blitzer?” the woman who’s name tag declared to be Alexis, droned in a monotone as they stepped up to the counter. The place was busy, with a dozen other customers enjoying their drinks or snapping pics of them for social media, but luckily, they’d hit at a good time and there wasn’t a line.

Selina kindly greeted the woman as she looked down at her phone to see which other members of the family had responded to her text, seeing if they wanted her and Mari to pick anything up. She ordered a Taro root brew for herself and then rattled off the other orders, before turning to Mari who had been consulting the menu up on the board to make her own selection.

Mari had figured out what she wanted before they’d even come, instantly ordering a strawberry milk tea with dark chocolate infused tapioca pearls; however while her mother had been reading the other teas off, an odd limited time item on the menu caught Marinette’s eye and she asked the scowling woman behind the counter, “oh, could you add a small Salted Cheese Foam Shake to the order?”

She then got a bit red in the face as she had to rush to explain the purring coming from her purse away as an odd ringtone. Selina just smirked and took advantage of the distraction to sneak a hundred dollar bill into the tip jar. Plagg was relaxing but still a bit hesitant interacting with the rest of the family. Selina’s grin broadened, ‘ He’ll come around eventually. I’ve yet to meet the cat I couldn’t charm.’

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Baton Rouge, Louisiana, Mid-November

The Magnificent Finder of Tasty Grubs, aka Bobo, aka Detective Chimp sat on the edge of a motel bed, his hairy hands steepled in thought. The case that had landed in his lap grew only more puzzling with each clue he unearthed, and while he thought he was on the right trail, he was unusually uncertain as to where it would lead.

‘ And if we’ll reach the end of it quickly enough’ the chimpanzee in a deerstalker mused as he glanced over to his unexpected charge, Traci Thirteen, who was currently flipping through a math textbook. He’d agreed to bring the girl along on the investigation into her father’s disappearance if only to keep her safe in case she too was targeted, but insisted that if she was going to miss school, she completed some equivalent course work he’d found online. Bobo himself had never had any formal education, but he certainly understood the value of knowledge.

So far, he’d retraced his occasional colleague’s investigation, starting from the handful of notes and clues he observed in Dr. Thirteen’s abandoned office. That had brought him to the swamps of Louisiana, but after that he started to run into dead ends. It hadn’t been that hard-to-find people who the other investigator had met along the way; Terrance was a bit of an odd duck and a prickly chap at that, so people tended to remember him. Unfortunately, none of them had really interacted with the Doctor for long.

From interviews with the locals, including local fauna Bobo could uniquely communicate with, Terrance had definitely been there, but no one had seen him since the end of September. The last he’d been seen was carrying some sort of scientific apparatus into the old Ellery place, a decrepit plantation house sitting in the heart of bayou country. It was the very property the skeptic detective had been hired to investigate, and a perplexing little puzzle for Bobo to tinker with. 

“What are you thinking about?” Traci asked him, obviously more curious about the hunt for her father than working on her arithmetic. Bobo had taken a shine to the bright young woman and found her surprisingly a good deal more personable than her old man. Terry had an annoying habit of pestering Bobo about what genetics lab he supposedly must have escaped from, refusing to accept the mystical explanation for Detective Chimp’s ability to speak. 

“I am merely assembling the facts as we know them regarding the disappearance of Terrance Thirteen,” the detective explained. He raised a finger, “one, Terrance was hired to investigate the supposedly haunted old Ellery place by a Mrs. Abigail Cable who recently inherited the property and determine why Lexcorp would be trying to purchase it.” He raised a second finger, “Two, Mrs. Cable is nowhere to be found and attempts to contact her have failed.”

Traci pulled up the yellow legal pad she’d been taking notes on, “her neighbors said she took a vacation after accepting the buyout from Luthor.”

The Magnificent Finder of Tasty Grubs nodded, “and international travel is a potential explanation for our inability to reach her, but not the only one. Consider that she apparently took this buyout without ever finding out the conclusion to the mystery she went so far as to hire a private investigator from across the country to get to the bottom of. Quite unusual, wouldn’t you say my dear Traci?”

“And she never reported him missing,” Traci muttered.

“Precisely,” Bobo agreed, hopping down to the floor so he could pace as he spoke and thought. “The third fact is that Terrance Thirteen disappeared over a month ago after spending approximately a month in the area, during which he was routinely seen by the locals either in town or entering and exiting the property. What can we surmise from this?”

“Uh,” Traci began, “that the investigation was taking time.”

Bobo bared his teeth in what he thought approximated a human smile, but which seemed a little threatening, “close, but not the most salient point. From this we can deduce whatever befell him was not a trap that would instantly ensnare whomsoever entered the house, at least not right away. If his disappearance is linked to his current investigation, as seems likely, he was allowed to enter and leave the house for some time without harm.”

He held up a fourth finger, “We also know from our gathered witness statements, that he was not the only individual observed on the property during this time period. In addition to Terrance, Mrs. Cable was occasionally seen, but perhaps most interestingly, at least three neighbors agree they saw the same individual on the property on the same day Terrance was last seen.”

“Right, the old guy,” Traci muttered, flipping over to the description. A white-haired man in an old-fashioned suit had been seen in the afternoon the day her father had seemingly disappeared after entering the house with his equipment that morning. Neither man had been seen since and they didn’t even know if either of them had left the rickety old home. “Do you think he, like, attacked my father?”

Detective Chimp put a fist to his chin in thought and crouched in the classical Thinker pose. “It’s certainly one possibility. He could have entered the property for his own purposes and ended up confronting Terrance for some reason, or he may have been seeking Terrance purposefully and simply tracked him to the Ellery property as we did. All the observers stressed the second man’s advanced age, so a physical confrontation would likely go against him, but he could always have carried a weapon of some sort and used the element of surprise.” Most hitmen didn’t live to reach a geriatric age, but Bobo knew better than to dismiss a solution simply because it was improbable. 

Traci grimaced and Bobo realized his summation might have been a tad insensitive, considering he was considering the potential murder of her father. He quickly tried to move along, “Finally, we discovered the property has been sold to a Lexcorp subsidiary, but there has been no development of the site to date, and no representative from the corporation has been seen in town since closing the deal.”

The younger Thirteen bit her lip and looked askance before looking back at the contemplative ape. “So, what does it all mean? Was it this old guy, or did one of Luthor’s goons try and hush it up, or was it supernatural?” Unlike her father, Traci wasn’t going to dismiss the possibility that the Ellery place could be genuinely haunted, and he might have blundered his way into the path of a vengeful ghost. “I could maybe go in and, uh, sense for anything magic going on?” Her mystical education was woefully stunted by the tiny amount of time she was allowed to spend with her mentor, so she didn’t exactly know how to do that, but she would give it her best try.

Detective Chimp readjusted his deerstalker and went over to his bag. He dug until he found his spare magnifying glass which he tossed over to the girl. “Loathe as I am to let you walk into potential danger, you are the magic expert in the room, and you’re right about us needing to investigate the property in question for ourselves. The facts we’ve found so far offer many intriguing possibilities, but we need more clues to narrow down our suppositions. Mrs. Cable may have locked the place up, but I saw a window lacking a pane this afternoon and she’s not around to protest. Prepare yourself for a little unofficial investigation tonight, Traci, for the Game is afoot!”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Thanksgiving Day, Gotham, the Kane Estate

Mari and Plagg were both buzzing with excitement when they awoke that morning. While Lady Noire was disappointed to still be on the bench after last month’s attack, she was really looking forward to experiencing her first American Thanksgiving. Mari couldn’t wait to experience the tradition with her new family, and Plagg was salivating over the promised food.

That year it was the Kane branch of the family that were hosting, and their home was bursting with guests from the early hours of the morn as they started preparing. Alfred and his niece Julia, who worked and lived at the Kane estate, were directing the chaos, but considering they were focused on preparing the meal, it was still a raucous atmosphere. 

All of the Kanes and Waynes were there of course, including Dinah and Kori who might not yet technically be legally part of the family. Joining them were the Blackthornes and Kori’s adoptive father and sister, J’onn J’onzz and M’gann. The Kents had been invited but were celebrating the holiday back in Smallville that year.

That didn’t mean the event was lacking for superheroes though, considering the various blurs that kept passing Marinette’s field of vision from where she sat on the couch listening to Mr. J’onzz recount his comical misunderstanding of the holiday when he’d first come to earth, involving three live turkeys, weaponized cranberry sauce and a belief everyone was supposed to dress up like pilgrims. The whole Flash clan had come along this year, since Donna had wanted her boyfriend Wally to join them, and that led to the rest of the speedsters from Keystone and Central being included. Bart Allen, Max Mercury, Jay Garrick and his wife Joan, Johnny Quick and his daughter Jessie, and Barry Allen’s widow Iris West-Allen and her two young twins were all in attendance and considering all but two of them were speedsters it only added to the chaos. It also meant Julia and Alfred were basically tripling each recipe to ensure they had enough food.

“I’m starting to be glad mom turned down her invite,” Dinah, who was sitting next to Mari on the couch in between her and Barbara, muttered. It was true that despite being quite large, the Kane Mansion was getting pretty packed by that point. 

Marinette had already done her part for the day, getting the coveted go ahead from Alfred to actually help prepare the meal. The pies she made were done baking and waiting for after the meal. ‘ I just hope everyone likes them okay,’ she fretted. Alfred had encouraged her to use a recipe she’d invented back in Paris. She had used it as a bit of a secret menu item for her friends, back when she had friends other than Chloe, but Tom had never let her put it on the official offerings. Her take on the classic gallette, with pears and blood oranges subbing for the traditional apples and lemon, would get its Gotham debut later that day.

From outside the sounds of a rough and wild touch football game Diana had started could be heard, and in general the whole house hummed with laughter and conversation. Mari was loving it. She’d never had this sort of thing with the Dupain-Chengs; consistent family dinners were already a novel experience for her. Having a big extended family all gathered to celebrate each other, well it felt pretty good.

“Marinette, can I steal you away for a moment?” Selina asked, poking her head into the den. Her mom was wearing a comfortable green oversized sweater that hung off one shoulder, which still looked fabulous on her in Mari’s opinion, and a pair of comfortable jeans and black cowboy style boots. The whole family was in casual dress that day, Mari herself opting for a cream button-down cashmere sweater over a plain white top and a pair of white capris. (She was steadily getting used to the fact her whole wardrobe now consisted of pieces she would have had to save up under the table bakery tips for a year to afford.)

“Sure mom!” Mari said, hopping to her feet. Now that the seal was broken, she had started calling Bruce and Selina, dad and mom every chance she got. The tingly feeling of having real parents hadn’t gone away, and she didn’t know if it ever would. 

Selina led her to a relatively quiet side room (once upon a time it had been a smoking lounge, but none of the current Kanes partook of tobacco), though in the distance they could hear M’gann and Kori had discovered the grand piano and were starting up their alien take on classic showtunes. Bruce was waiting for them, wearing his own soft dark sweater and jeans, looking more at ease than she’d seen him in the month since Halloween, though with a certain tension still hidden beneath the surface.

“What’s going on, dad?” Mari asked a little trepidatiously. She wasn’t worried, worried, but her dad looked a bit serious and she was concerned something might be wrong. 

Bruce smiled and patted the seat next to him for her to sit, which she did along with Selina on the other side. “Don’t worry, it’s actually a bit of good news for a change.”

“Bruce,” Selina warned.

The Dark Knight incognito held up a hand, “right, right, I’ll stay on topic. We finally got word from Zatanna last night.”

Mari’s eyes shot open wide, “You did!?!? What did she say? Is Chloe all right? Do they need back up!? Why did it take so long for-“

Selina ran a hand along her back and Mari took a deep breath. Bruce patted her leg and continued, “apparently until recently there was a sort of magical equivalent of a communication jammer active in the dimension Chloe was taken to. I won’t pretend to understand the mechanics of it,” Bruce glowered momentarily at that statement, obviously not entirely pleased to not be able to fully understand to his own satisfaction how the magic worked, “but she’s now able to send one-way messages.”

“Which means we couldn’t reply or ask questions,” Selina smoothly continued the explanation, choosing to omit the fact the projection of their friend had inconveniently appeared in their bedroom while she was riding Bruce like a stallion. “But we’ve been apprised of the situation.”

“In short, it seems Chloe wasn’t born a Bourgeois,” Bruce explained, stunning Mari a little bit. ‘ Chloe was adopted too?’ “She originated from this Gemworld dimension she’s been taken to and was sent to Earth as a baby.” Bruce had actually already determined Chloe was adopted when he was digging into Andre after the Parisian girl’s disappearance but kept it to himself since it wasn’t immediately relevant at the time and the girl might not want her best friend to know that private information. 

“She’s a member of the same sub-species of human as Zatanna, Homo-Magi, which tracks with what Zee said about any non-Homo Magi going to Gemworld throwing up a red flag,” Selina added. “Anyway, it seems she got embroiled in local politics to some degree, and that was the big source of the delay in Zee bringing her back to Earth. She’s actually been with Chloe for some time, trying to sort things out with the locals.” Zatanna had been sparse on the details in her brief message, but Selina trusted a fuller explanation would be forthcoming on their return.

Bruce hmphed, “again for not fully explained mystic reasons, the best time for them to return is apparently the Winter Solstice; so, they’ll be coming back to Earth in around a month’s time.”

“She’s coming home?” Mari asked, her tears threatening to well up. As wonderful as the changes to her life had been in the last half a year, something had been missing, the girl she loved her best friend. She could push it out of her mind momentarily, but every night her thoughts would turn to worry for Chloe, and now she finally knew she was safe. She grabbed her dad’s hand in both of hers and looked him in the eye, “I want to visit Paris when she gets back. I, I want to see her.”

“Actually, due to her adoptive father’s pending prison sentence and his general neglect of her,” Bruce explained, “Chloe won’t be returning to France. She’ll be coming here to Gotham instead.”

“You can’t adopt her!” Marinette blurted out, making her mom smirk and her father furrow his brow in confusion.

“We weren’t planning to…” Bruce replied slowly, “but I’m surprised you’re so against the idea, considering she’s your best friend. Is there something we should-“ His question was cut off by Selina elbowing him in the side and giving him a look that told him she’d explain later.

Marinette blushed but didn’t elaborate that her objection to Chloe coming to live at the Manor was that it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to have a crush on her adoptive sister. Trying to move past the awkward moment, she asked “Uh, where will she be staying then? With Aunt Ivy and Aunt Harley?”

Selina shook her head, “No, though I’m sure they’d be willing if called upon. Zatanna had been considering relocating to Gotham for some time and has apparently bonded a bit with her on their adventure, so Chloe will be down the road at her estate.” That estate was currently open land, but once Zee returned the magical mansion Shadowcrest, it would be just as it had stood when she and Bruce had been children, and Zee’s father was the most notable hero in Gotham.

“Oh, that’ll be nice,” Mari mumbled, still blushing from embarrassment over her feelings. She also felt more than a little guilty for how she’d treated the woman who was to be Chloe’s guardian before Zatanna left to rescue her. Sure, her emotions had been running high, but she should still apologize. And just super double check the woman was going to be good enough for her Chloe.

=

Later, after having thoroughly interrogated her parents for every bit of information they had on her missing friend, Mari stepped back into the den to rejoin the festivities. 

“Sister-Marinette!” Koriander called excitedly when Mari reappeared. The alien princess had forgone her image inducer in the company of close friends and family, and her orange skin, green eyes and wild red hair were on full display. That said, she wasn’t wearing the typical Tamaranean outfit that served as her hero costume, instead going for a cute sky-blue sundress with a green ivy print that Marinette was sure would have made the woman far too cold in the chilling autumn air if she had a standard human physiology.

Starfire was sitting at the piano with her adoptive sister M’gann, the Martian girl also showing an alien skin hue, in her case green, and wearing a University of Chicago sweater and a long navy skirt. M’gann was smiling, but Mari had observed throughout the day that it occasionally dipped when she thought no one was watching.

She felt a pang of sympathy for Stephanie’s friend, who had never failed to be anything less than incredibly nice to Mari in their handful of interactions. Tim had let slip that M’gann had originally been supposed to join the Kents on the farm for Thanksgiving before she and Conner broke up a few months ago, like she had the year before, and she suspected the other girl was still a bit torn up over the breakup. Marinette had never known them as a couple, but they’d been together for close to two years so she could understand it had to be rough.

“Come, sing a song with us! It is traditional at Earth festivities to celebrate through song!” Kori enthusiastically explained. The whole J’onzz family really tried to embrace the culture of their adopted planet, finding it all new and exciting, and Mari could relate today since Thanksgiving was also a novel experience for her.

Marinette shuffled over, dodging out of the way of a running Helena who was trying to keep up with the Tornado Twins. “Oh, I’m not, uh much of a singer,” she still remembered the failed audition for performing Clara Nightingale’s music video she and Chloe had tried out for. Even though she’d been turned down, it was a nice memory, happening just a month before she had to go on the run from Lila’s lies. She still wished Chloe had taken the part she’d been offered, even if she found it incredibly sweet the proud girl had refused to join without Marinette in solidarity. 

“Oh, don’t worry!” M’gann said hurriedly as she patted the stool on the other side of her from where Koriander was sitting. “It’s not about the quality of the singing, it’s just about having fun together!” 

Marinette glanced around nervously, the old stage fright that bothered her when she wasn’t Lady Noire or Nettie creeping in. J’onn and Duke were chatting by the, for the Martian’s sake artificial, fire, Harper, Bart, Tim, Steph and Sandra were playing cards on the rug, Cass was texting her girlfriend from the couch, and Selina had just stepped back into the room chatting with Iris West-Allen. It was a big crowd to perform for, especially following Koriander’s surprisingly powerful belting of Mess Around (Chosen by the Tamaranean because it was in the traditional Earth Thanksgiving film, Planes Trains and Automobiles.)

Then she realized something, ‘ Everyone here is family, or close to it.’ She turned to the J’onzz sisters and asked, “Do you know La Vie En Rose?”

Dick had worked up a sweat playing ball in the yard. When each team had an Amazon and a speedster apiece, (even if Wally and Jessi had both promised to not tap into the speed force while playing), it had been a rough and tumble but ultimately fun game. Dick had been on Donna’s team, naturally since the two cousins were thick as thieves, along with Wally and Carrie, and they played against a team of Diana, Kate, Damian and Jessi. The score had fallen into dispute at some point, but in the end the majority, (minus Damian cough), agreed Donna’s team had pulled out the victory.

Still, it was nearing the appointed mealtime, so the tired, somewhat muddy octet was making its way back into the house when Dick heard the most amazing thing. It was someone singing in French and singing well. “ Des Nuits d’amour à plus finir, Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place… ”

‘ Holy Angel Of Music Batman, my baby sister can sing!’ Dick realized when he stepped into the den and confirmed it was Marinette singing along to the accompaniment of his not-so-secret wife’s piano. The girl wasn’t a trained singer, and it was far from a professional performance, but she had a great voice that could definitely get there with a little practice. 

“Huh, she really is Bruce’s kid,” Kate whispered from his side while she tried to rub the mud out of the fitted Wonder Woman tee shirt she may have ruined. Dick’s dad and Jason were the only other members of their side of the family with any known aptitude for singing, though no one had ever actually managed to get Damian to try up to that point. 

Soon enough though, Mari passed the singing duties back to M’gann, feeling a little embarrassed and a little proud at the same time. She settled down next to Sandra and waited to be dealt in for the next hand. Jason swore up and down about how useful a basic knowledge of poker could be when gathering information under cover, so in addition to being fun, she could tell herself she was still sharpening her skills. ‘ If nothing else, it’s a distraction from whatever heavenly delights are being concocted in the kitchen.’

The smell of the oncoming meal was making her mouth water, and it had been in the works all morning. With so many mouths to feed, and quite a few of them connected to speedster stomachs, despite wanting to, Alfred and Julia couldn’t quite handle all of the food prep themselves and had enlisted that very select list of family members who were allowed in the kitchen.

Notoriously Bruce could burn water, Selina’s idea of preparing dinner was ordering takeout, and most of their children had inherited their culinary ineptitude. Kate wasn’t much better than her cousin, and Diana’s idea of cooking involved spit roasting giant boars too much for Julia to let her mistress make a mess of her kitchen. Harley once broke two ovens trying to bake one cake, and Ivy seemed to think every dish needed a full shaker of salt and two shakers of pepper.

So, the older members of the family were pretty much out, and among the younger ones the Pennyworths were still selective with who they trusted not to destroy the food, the kitchens, or both. Jason had been the first to be inducted into the exclusive club of Waynes and Kanes allowed to cook, with his cousin Bette the only one allowed on that side of the family. Rose was the only trusted Blackthorne, and after that it was surprisingly Carrie, and then of course most recently Marinette. 

Mari had done the pies, and Carrie and Rose had prepared something called sweet potato casserole the French ex-pat was curious to try, but after that they too had been shooed away and it was Alfred, Jason, Julia and Bette working like a well-oiled machine to get the massive meal ready on time. Luckily though, precisely as the clock struck one, their wait would be over.

“Ladies and Gentlmen,” Julia Pennyworth, ladle still in hand, announced as she opened the door to the kitchen. She was a brunette thirty something woman with kind eyes and slightly plump proportions. “My uncle has finally stopped fussing over the cranberries, so I can happily say the meal is ready to be served!”

There was a general cheer of excitement as the crowd started making their way, some faster than others, to the formal Kane dining room, which could accommodate the great assemblage. Mari’s seat was between Harper and Mr. J’onzz, and she thought she was going to well up again with happy tears when she saw the tiny little saucer set aside next to her plate for Plagg, complete with a tiny cloth napkin. 

The cat spirit poked out from his current hiding place in Mari’s long hair, his mouth starting to drool. “Is that a foot tall cheeseball in the shape of a pumpkin!?” The little cat floated in front of Mari’s face and grabbed hold of her cheeks before saying in a serious tone uncharacteristic of the laid-back kitty, “you hold on to these people, Mari. You hold on to them forever.”

Mari just smiled and said, “don’t worry, Plagg, I fully intend to.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gemworld, Same Time

Amaya of House Amethyst, otherwise known as Chloe, walked the back hallways of the recently liberated Castle Emerald with her friend, and technical vassal, Citrine. The younger Ingvie Citrine that was, not the girl’s mother who had been involved with the desperate plan to send Chloe to earth in the first place when Opal was trying to stamp out every trace of the Amethyst bloodline.

It was a sprawling complex crafted from fine sandstone for the foundation, and ornamented with green highlights both from its titular Emerald, and the vines of ivy that crawled up its walls. The territorial capital lacked the towering spires of Castle Garnet or the impossibly thick walls of Ruby’s domain, but it was still quite the impressive construction.

“Reconstruction efforts are slow, but they’re underway,” Ingvie Citrine informed her as they turned the corner. The dark skinned young scholar wore loose dusty orange robes, her hair pulled back in many braids that bounced along as she stepped quickly to keep up with Chloe. They’d received a letter from the elder member of the Citrine house back in Amethyst territory and she was relating updates to Amaya.

Chloe nodded, not really sure of what else she was supposed to say. She’d learned an awful lot about using her magic, the art of war, and what it took to run a rebellion but she had no experience whatsoever with actually running a dukedom. ‘ Shattered Gem Shards! I would have failed that home economics budgeting project if Mari hadn’t helped me’. That had been long ago, before she and Mari had even become friends and she was still idiotically treating the other girl like a rival. At the time Mari had been volunteering in the school’s tutoring program, and Chloe had burned with embarrassment for needing help from the girl she was fighting for the number one spot in grades with. (Chloe wasn’t bad at math, but her childhood with Andre had given her a very poor understanding of what things actually cost)

In any event, the lands of Amethyst were heavily hurt by the course of Opal’s war and subsequent tyranny. Her ancestral castle, which she’d only visited briefly since returning to Gemworld, was in ruins, and the whole region would need time to recover. Luckily, with Opal gone, it would finally be able to.

She felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of Dark Opal, but she let it go, trying to listen as Ingvie rattled off specifics. Eventually, when the somewhat older girl paused, Chloe stopped in the hall and asked, “what needs to be done?” She wanted so badly to return to Earth, and Zee had already scheduled the date when the ritual could most easily be accomplished, but she felt awful at the thought of abandoning Amethyst citizens in need.

Ingvie frowned before saying, “nothing that isn’t being done, my lady. I’m afraid what is needed is time at this point.”

“We all need some time to heal from the scars that bastard Opal left,” Lady Turquoise, currently wearing only a loose white pirate blouse and a pair of baggy pants in her signature color, interjected as she came from an adjoining hallway to join them. The red haired warrior woman had a very literal scar under her clothes from when Opal had wounded her, but she was also speaking more metaphorically. “But we’ll get through it. After all, the Splendid Princess Amethyst has miraculously dispelled the darkness for us.”

Chloe knew her friend, fencing tutor, and war-time bodyguard was intentionally teasing her, but she blushed in embarrassment anyway before hmphing and adopting a prim expression. “Well, somebody had to do it. The Lady of House Turquoise is such a delicate damsel, after all.” 

Turquoise chuckled at the ribbing and fell into step with them. It was so strange to Chloe, walking with her new friends without the threat of Opal hanging over them. She found herself preemptively missing the friends and comrades she’d made in Gemworld, even though she knew Zee could facilitate visits in the future. ‘ I’ll have to bring Mari along and introduce them at some point.’

Eventually they arrived at their destination, a decent sized meeting room that was relatively untouched by the occupation of Emerald lands that had only recently ended. While Amethyst had technically struck the final blow, and was getting hailed by the people as a conquering hero, the true heart of the rebellion and the brains behind it were already in that room. Lady Emerald, with the same tired but resolute expression Chloe had always known her to have, was in there talking with Lady Topaz, who had just overthrown her Opal-collaborating brother, and a few secretaries Chloe didn’t know by name. A large wooden table covered in scrolls dominated the room, which was lit by shafts of light poking in through the partially shattered stain glass window on the far side of the room.

Topaz looked up and smirked at the new arrivals, “good timing. You just missed Lord Aquamarine’s envoy slinking off after insulting his host and insisting the isles could have won the war all on their own. Stones, I wish Lord Garnet would get here soon; we need someone to make the Aquas shut up.”

Emmy placed a calming hand on her friend’s shoulder, “patience, Pazzy. Lord Aquamarine is just trying to get the best position he can while the iron is still hot and the ink unwritten. We always knew it was going to be this way.” Lord Aquamarine had provided essential support for the rebellion, but most of the leaders of the other rebel houses didn’t care for the notoriously greedy man personally. She shot a wry look at Chloe, “oh, I went ahead and turned down his latest marriage proposal on your behalf.”

“Merci,” Chloe thanked her with a shudder as she took her seat at the thought of being betrothed to the much older man she’d only met once. Gemworld was literally a magical fantasy land with all the wonder that implied, but also some more medieval aspects Chloe wasn’t as much of a fan of. ‘ I’m not too wild about the whole regnal inheritance bit if I’m being perfectly honest, either’ .

She’d been so focused on winning the fight she’d found herself in, feeling a sense of duty to the people relying on her, she hadn’t really thought about the Gemworld that would take shape afterwards, or who was supposed to run it. Most everyone was probably expecting her to take up residence in Castle Amethyst, repair it, resume ruling her lands and leading the united houses; she’d been putting off breaking the news she intended to return to Earth soon for awhile now, but told herself that morning she needed to rip off the band aid.

Topaz tsked but let her annoyance go, pulling out the chair next to her for Turquoise to sit while Ingvie took the one beside Chloe. The sorcery prodigy Topaz casually used a small floating crystal she conjured to hook the end of a scroll in the middle of the table and floated it over to Chloe. “We have a rough proposal for aid distribution for you to look over and then we need to talk about how to set up the United Courts. I know we need to wait for Garn and the others to make anything official, but if we’re united behind a plan when the time comes, we can push past any of Aquamarine’s machinations.”

Chloe passed the offered document to Ingvie and grimaced. The process of determining who had been willing collaborators in Dark Opal’s coup and who had been coerced, and what the punishments should be was a vexing one the allied houses of the rebellion were starting to work through, under the leadership of Lady Emerald. Topaz was their greatest magic user, and Turquoise their warrior, but of the three noble ladies who summoned Chloe that day almost a year ago, Lady Emerald was undoubtedly the leader and the most able administrator.

Amethyst took a deep breath, wishing that Zatanna was there with her instead of out in the countryside helping lift lingering curses, and interrupted. “Ah, actually, before we get started, I need to make an announcement. I’m planning to return to Earth with Zatanna come the solstice. I care deeply for all of you and for the rest of Gemworld, but Earth is still my home and I have a life there I need to return to. I’m afraid I cannot lead you.”

Emmy gave her a kind smile, “we’ll miss you, Amaya,” she broke with protocol and referred to Chloe not by her title but by her personal birth name, “but I understand. We did somewhat kidnap you with our ritual after all.”

Turquoise clapped her on the back and said jovially, “yeah, I’m sure that Mari girl you’re always mooning over is waiting to give you a welcome back kiss! But you better come visit soon!”

‘ Okay, definitely regretting telling Turquoise about Mari,’ Chloe decided, but confusion won out over embarrassment. “Uh, thank you.” She paused before saying awkwardly, “I have to say, you’re taking this a bit better than I was expecting. I mean, I’m technically abandoning my position as Queen.”

Lady Topaz gave her a confused look of her own, “I mean, not really? Lady Citrina is going to be your regent, right?”

Chloe glanced at Ingvie then back to Topaz before replying, “uh, yeah actually. I was going to ask her since she’s already managing the territory. I just didn't expect everyone to be nonchalant about that plan. I mean, we just fought a war over Dark Opal usurping House Amethyst’s right to rule.”

Topaz folded her arms across her chest, “Okay, one, I love you Amy, but we fought this war to overthrow a tyrant not just to restore one house. Two, House Amethyst led the other houses as a first among equals, not a king above the rest, that was the whole trouble with Opal.”

“Besides,” Emmy cut in before Topaz could get too worked up, “you’re only 15 cycles old, Amaya. You would have to have a regent for the next forty-five anyways.” They were including Amethyst in the reconstruction discussions because she was their friend and they valued her opinion, but everyone else in the room understood Lady Citrina would be the formal leader of House Amethyst for now. 

Now very perplexed, but not wanting to embarrass herself by admitting it out loud, Chloe just looked to Ingvie pleadingly. The other girl, grasping Chloe’s distress, informed her, “I suppose it may be different back on the Origin Sphere, but typically, no ruler on Gemworld is allowed to formally assume their seat and vote on the council until they reach the age of maturity at sixty years.”

“Wait, what?” Chloe asked, her mouth hanging open in a distinctly unlady-like manner that would have made Audrey wrap her knuckles hard with a spoon back when they’d occasionally shared a dinner table. She pointed at Lady Emerald in disbelief, “but you’re ruling House Emerald,” she turned the finger on Lady Topaz, “and we just did your whole coronation thing a week ago.”

Topaz just raised an eyebrow, “so, I’m 62.” The dusty skinned girl didn’t look a day over twenty to Chloe’s eyes, 

Emmy raised a hand, “I’m 65, fairly young for a head of house, I’ll grant you, but after Opal’s murders,” the normally calm girl’s expression turned dour at the thought, “there aren’t many other options.” Chloe would have guessed Emmy was the same age as her, not fifty years older.

“Oh, right, of course, obviously,” Chloe agreed while her mind whirred at a mile a minute. The conversation moved on to the planned agenda for the meeting, but it largely faded into the background for Chloe as she tried to grapple with the implications of what she’d just stumbled upon.

A bit hysterically she reflected, ‘ at least they took the news of my return to Earth well,’ 

=

Later that evening, Zatanna was groaning as she stretched out her muscles and lay down on the adequate but still mediaeval bed in the quarters she’d been allocated after a long day helping in the countryside, when the door basically flew open.

“Are we immortal?!?!” Chloe demanded from where she stood in the doorway.

Zee slowly sat back up, “hello to you too, kiddo. If you mean you and me specifically, not that I know of unless you’ve been getting into some magic that you shouldn’t.” She was mostly joking, but also knew that immortality was a goal that had led many spellcasters down the path of darkness. “If you mean Homo Magi as a whole, we’re long lived compared to baseline humans, but no, we’re not immortal.”

Chloe nodded, muttering to herself as she crossed into the room. Zee caught words like ‘older’ and ‘could dye hair grey’, before the obviously stressed out girl turned back to her and asked, “So what, I’m going to live to be a thousand years old, two thousand?”

“If you want to live to see your second millennium, you’d need to relocate to a realm suffused with magic like Gemworld or Azeroth, but even back on earth you can expect to live a few centuries” Zee explained. That was of course ignoring all the dangers, mystic and otherwise that could end a sorceress’s life as easily as anyone else. She suspected she understood the likely source of Chloe’s anxiety over her increased expected life-span; nobody liked the idea of outliving the people they loved. 

Zee had Chloe sit down on the bed next to her and explained in a bit more depth. Chloe would have a long life and age a bit slower, with the exact rate depending on her individual biology and the ambient magic around her. She tried to impress upon the girl that she shouldn’t retreat from the world preemptively to avoid eventual pain from losing shorter-lived ordinary humans to age; the relationships, for however long you had them, were worth the pain in the long run. That was what Zee’s parents had thought at any rate. 

Tentatively she placed her arm around Chloe’s shoulder, wanting to provide comfort but wary of crossing any boundaries. Zee suspected the girl hadn’t received a lot of physical affection growing up and observed that something like a hug could startle her. However, this time Chloe didn’t tense up, instead letting her breathing slow down as she listened to Zatanna’s explanation.

Eventually, after Zee had finished and Chloe had a bit to think, she asked, somewhat stiltedly, “is there a way to share it, the lifespan?” 

Zatanna could instantly guess who she’d want to share it with, but unfortunately could only sadly smile, “I’m afraid not, princess.” She thought back to something her mother had said regarding her own relationship with Zee’s human father, Giovanni Zatara. It hadn’t ended up mattering, since both would sadly perish before their natural ends, but it had stuck with the younger Zatanna. “All you can do is appreciate the time you do have with them and make every second of it count.”

Chloe nodded, probably expecting the answer but needing to ask the question anyway. She leaned into Zee just a little and finally said, “then we need to get home soon. I don’t want to lose any more time.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Smallville, Kansas, Thanksgiving Evening

Smallville wasn’t quite a one-horse town but it was pretty close. The intersection of Main Street and Second Street was what amounted to the city center, and Draper’s Diner was the cultural hub. The little town was mostly a meeting place for the surrounding rural community and even in the modern day felt like a little slice of old fashioned americana. For many, that tranquil sense of nostalgia was the appeal, but Conner Kent was not one of those people.

“Ugh, Smallville is sooo boring,” the dark-haired teen moaned as he walked down the sidewalk with his sister. He wore his trademark leather jacket even though it somewhat clashed with the homemade sweater his grandma had given him earlier that day and a pair of jeans. 

Kara, clad in her own homemade sweater, jeans, and a pair of cowboy boots gave him a skeptical look, “then why did you want to come into town?” The pair had spent the day on the Kent farm with their family and enjoyed a Kryptonian sized meal courtesy of Ma Kent. The rest of the Kents were still there but the two teens had decided to walk into town that evening.

“Cuz I can only hear Grandpa brag about mom’s Pulitzers to old man Hubbard so many times before I want to pull my hair out,” Conner complained. Pa Kent, Clark’s adoptive father, was very proud of his daughter-in-law’s accomplishments and enjoyed boasting about them to his neighbor Ben Hubbard, who had joined the family for the meal. Of course, as Mr. Hubbard didn’t know the family’s Super-secret, it also meant the Kryptonian teens hadn’t gotten to relax with their powers like they usually did on the relatively remote Kent farm. Conner looked over to his sister, “don’t tell me that’s not why you wanted to get out of there too.”

Kara shrugged but didn’t deny that she’d also felt the need to get some fresh air. She loved her adoptive grandparents but after a whole day spent helping in the kitchen followed by a heavy meal, she’d wanted to stretch her legs. Pa Kent had mentioned there was a new community center under construction in town and going to see it seemed as good an excuse as any.

Smallville rarely saw new buildings spring up, so this Victory Center was the talk of the town. It was being built by Kenny Braverman, a Smallville boy who’d left to join the military and after that made his fortune in the tech sector. Apparently, he’d decided to share his success with his old hometown and was building an athletics complex for the young people of Smallville. 

The siblings continued down the road, nodding to the small number of Smallville natives who hadn’t returned home as the dusk settled. In such a small town, most people knew Clark and many of them had become familiar with the noted journalist’s children, who were often in town around the holidays. Conner had his hands behind his head, looking around casually, while Kara’s eyes were almost glued to her phone as she texted.

“I’m surprised you don’t just fly to Gotham,” Conner muttered, sure Kara was texting her girlfriend. Last year, the Gothamites had come out to the Kent Farm for a massive, combined Thanksgiving, but they’d chosen not to this year, and he suspected the cause of it was his own breakup with M’gann. ‘ M’gann’s great but I don’t want to be tied down to the first girl to ever ask me out. For crying out loud, I’m SUPERBOY, it’s not fair to the ladies to not play the field a little.’

Kara looked up, “for your information I was texting Winn.” Sure, she had also been consistently texting Cass all day, but the most recent message she’d shot off had been to her friend back in Metropolis. “we’re trying to plan a surprise party for Toni’s birthday next week.” She was hoping Cass would take the train up to join them for it, and not just because she wanted her friends to get along with her girlfriend. Ever since the big attack on Gotham that happened while Cassandra was in Metropolis, the heroine known as Black Bat had been extremely reluctant to leave her city.

Conner was about to quip back but instead he just said “whoa.” The pair had arrived at the build site for the Victory Center on the other side of town from the Kent Farm, and it was massive. Nobody was working on it at the moment due to the holiday, but there were countless construction vehicles, big piles of excavated dirt and the partially constructed steel frame of a massive building that was going to be at least five stories tall. It wasn’t much compared to the skyscrapers the two teens from Metropolis were used to back home, but it would easily be the biggest building in Smallville when it was done.

“Are there even enough people in town to get full use out of a place that big?” Kara wondered. The Victory Center had been pitched as something like an uber YMCA, with all sorts of sports equipment and additional meeting areas for community events, but this was a lot bigger than what they would have expected. Smallville only had one high school, and it was a pretty small one, so this youth center was likely going to end up pretty empty once it was finished. 

It was a surprising discovery to be sure, but at the end of the day it was a currently empty construction site. There wasn’t exactly much to do there, and with pretty much every business in the small town closed down for the holiday, the pair only ended up hanging around for a few minutes before turning right back around to return to the farm.

In just a few minutes more they’d once again gone beyond the small area of paved roads in Smallville proper and began retracing their path backwards on the winding dirt lane that led to the Kent Farm. It wasn’t the farthest flung farm or ranch in the Smallville community, but it wasn’t right next to the little town either; at a human walking pace, it would probably take them about 45 minutes to get back. 

Dusk gave way to night and the sound of cicadas blanketed the sleepy country lane. About halfway there they passed the Lang pastures, a few sleepy cows chewing their cud giving them some half-hearted moos. “We should have borrowed the Pinto,” Conner muttered, thinking of their grandfather’s aging car.

Kara raised an eyebrow, “Wasn’t the whole point to kill time? Besides, neither of us have our li-“ 

VWOOM-BZZZZZZZ!

They only had a moment of warning and that only came due to their Kryptonian hearing that could pick up the extremely high-pitched whine of whatever was hurtling rapidly towards them. As a full blooded Kryptonian, Kara heard the noise a split second before her brother and tackled him out of the way as quickly as possible without obviously displaying flight or enhanced speed. Dealing with whatever the danger proved to be was the priority but she was also very cognizant of the fact they were in civilian clothes, and Conner and Kara Kent weren’t supposed to have superpowers. 

A hovering attack drone, roughly the size of a Bengal tiger, strafed the stretch of dirt road where they’d just stood with pulsed laser fire, knocking many clouds of dust and leaving a trail of paired scorch marks. It was a dull gunmetal grey cylindrically shaped machine with lines of a bright orange running along the edges of its body and bracketing the two small gunports. Kara instinctively shifted her vision into the x-ray range and saw the internal construction wasn’t complex by Kryptonian standards, but was certainly well above current human technological standards, certain super scientist outliers notwithstanding. 

“Run Conner! I’ll distract it!” Kara yelled as the floating death machine wheeled around to make another pass at the teens. She knew her little brother was pretty tough in his own right, but she was a protective big sister, and her full Kryptonian biology made her just that tad more indestructible. Plus, if Conner Kent got away, he could always come back as Superboy to save poor wimpy city girl Kara Kent before this crazy flying robot killed her. 

However, while Kara was focusing on their attacker, Kon-El had been sweeping the area with his thermal vision and listening for human heart beats. “There’s no one watching, let’s ice this scrap heap!” Not waiting for a response, the Boy of Steel leapt all the way to the approaching attack drone in a single bound and swung his arms downward in a powerful overhand double ax handle. The metal armor dented from the force of the blow, and the floating weapon went careening off at an angle away from him.

Kara tsked in annoyance at her brother’s cavalier attitude, but still shot into the air as only Supergirl could. She saw he’d damaged but not disabled the attacking drone, with both laser cannons realigning to aim for Conner, who’d just landed in a small crater. The Girl of Tomorrow’s normally clear blue eyes flashed red as her heat vision lanced forward and turned both barrels into molten slag. 

It hovered awkwardly for another moment before a charging Conner tackled it again, leaping up to grab either side of it and slam it down hard into the ditch at the side of the road. That seemed to do the trick as the thing sputtered and sparked before seeming to power down and become a big banged up paperweight.

“You, okay?” Conner asked over his shoulder as Kara floated down next to him to look at whatever had just attacked them. Kara didn’t answer at first, using her x-ray vision to take a closer look at the drone’s inner workings. It was hard to say for sure since it was heavily damaged and robotics hadn’t been her specialist field back on Krypton, but she was pretty sure at least a few of the components, particularly the anti-grav unit, were extraterrestrial in origin. She’d have to disassemble it and have Kellex run it against the database in the Fortress of Solitude to know from which specific alien civilization the parts had been sourced.

“I’m fine,” she muttered. All in all, the sudden attack had been startling, but neither sibling felt they’d really ever been in any danger. Laser blasts of that power would have bounced off Kara and given Conner nothing worse than the equivalent of a sunburn. ‘ Of course, if we actually had just been two human kids visiting from Metropolis, we would have been fried to death before we knew what happened,’ Kara grimly reflected, biting her thumb.

They didn’t know if the attack-bot was targeting Superboy and Supergirl and knew their identities, was targeting Kara and Conner Kent and thought they were human, or if the machine was indeed just indiscriminately attacking anybody in the area. Maybe it was natural curiosity, maybe it came from being the daughter of reporters, or maybe it was her detective girlfriend rubbing off on her, but those unanswered questions bothered Kara. They also made her rather annoyed with her brother who’d decided to hit first and ask them later and was currently taking a selfie in front of the wrecked machine. 

“Dude!” She said, exasperated, “I could hear nobody was around, but what about the cameras on that thing?” There was a cracked single lens in the center of the machine that it likely used for visual input. “We have no clue where that thing might be transmitting!” For all they knew, the attackers hadn’t known they were superheroes and they’d just blown that secret to whomever might be watching through the robot’s eyes. 

Conner shrugged nonchalantly, “it’s not like anyone was going to send a hi-tech killbot after some random kids, so they were probably aiming for Superboy and his trusty sidekick anyway.”

Kara put a hand to her head in annoyance, trying to suppress the urge to throttle her headstrong brother. Sure, he was probably right about that, but they couldn’t know for sure. She wanted to chew him out over that but knew her folks would do that too, and it would probably be more effective coming from them than from her. 

“We can’t take it straight back to the farm with Mr. Hubbard there,” she reasoned. They obviously needed to let their family know about the attack, but since it seemed the immediate danger had passed, they could afford to wait a little. “Let’s hide it in the woods a few hundred feet from the road. After Mr. Hubbard goes home, we’ll tell dad, retrieve it and figure out what to do.”

Conner nodded in agreement and hefted the thing over his shoulder before dashing off into the wooded area at high speed. She dusted herself off, glad the brief fight hadn’t left her clothes with stains she might have to explain to their civilian dinner guest. ‘ We just need to get through another hour of Grandpa and Mr. Hubbard shooting the breeze and we’ll come collect it with dad and get to the bottom of whatever in Rao’s name is going on.’

It wasn’t the worst plan. However, an hour and a half later when they returned to the spot Conner had buried it with a very worried Superman, the alien attack bot was nowhere to be found.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

H.I.V.E Hexagon Beta, Palermo Italy, December 3rd

In a futuristic looking laboratory, a young man whose arm, leg, and half his head had been replaced with mechanical augmentations, lay dead on the operating table. Two nervous looking doctors in yellow scrubs and blue gloves waited by the expired patient, while a tall white-haired woman in an ornate purple and white robe, flanked by two figures in less ornamented purple robes, assessed the failed experiment.

“Dispose of the body,” the woman commanded coldly, “and secure new subjects for the program.” The doctors nodded wordlessly, and the robed woman turned sharply on her heel, walking out of the room with her two attendants trailing after her.

“Eet iz not to be unexpected, mistress,” the advisor on her left informed her in his heavy French accent as they passed through the long hexagonal hallways that honeycombed throughout their underground base. “Dr. Stone had access to T.O Morrow’s expertise and Apockaliptian technology when he waz crafting zee Cyborg.”

The HIVE Mistress replied without bothering to look at her underling, “we have off world technology ourselves, and world class roboticists in the H.I.V.E, or so I am assured.” She knew none of her scientists were the equal of one of the four great android makers, Morrow, Ivo, Stone, or Magnus, but she expected better results than they had so far gotten with Project Grid. 

The Titans had been a constant thorn in her side, and it had been easy to identify Cyborg as their most important member, so Project Grid was born, an attempt to create a Cyborg of their own. Simple cybernetic augmentations were something they already did very effectively, but no subject had so far survived the complete overhaul required to match the capabilities of the Titan’s leader.

Mechanical doors whooshed open as she strutted into her throne room, currently empty save another purple robed advisor, in this case a woman. The villainous matriarch took her seat on the throne and turned to the new advisor. “Dr. Glory, I hope you have better news for me than your compatriots.”

Dr. Glory removed her hood to reveal a head of short blonde hair and a surprisingly youthful face. Prior to being exposed by Superboy and Supergirl for her unethical experiments, the former child prodigy Vanessa Glory had been chief scientist for the Metropolis branch of STAR Labs, and a windfall for H.I.V.E when she became one of the two new members of the Seven, the senior inner council that enacted the HIVE Mistress’s will.

“I like to think so,” Dr. Glory replied, removing a Lexpad from within her robes and passing it to her two fellows to examine. “Tests indicate that the new high priority candidate The Church of Blood brought us has a high level of compatibility for Project Scarab.”

The advisor who had yet so speak interjected in a rough inner-city Dakota dialect, “You’re mixing two supplier’s product if you do that, doc. And if the bugs or bleeders find out we’re two timing them, we’re all fucked.”

“Mr. Small’s point is well taken,” the HIVE Mistress replied cooly, ignoring the crude speaking manner of the other newest member of the Seven. Leonard Smalls, AKA Holocaust, was a significant crime lord in the American Midwest, and his signing on with H.I.V.E had given their organization much greater reach in that country. The HIVE Mistress was a pragmatist and an opportunist, and didn’t care if things weren’t neat and tidy, so long as they brought her more power.

She sneered momentarily, “but they need never find out. The HIVE is truly loyal only to itself.” Indeed, at the moment her HIVE was supposedly secretly part of three entirely different organizations, happily accepting their support, money and technology, while secretly playing all sides. The Cult of Kobra, the Church of Blood and The Alien Reach all thought themselves the ultimate master of H.I.V.E. ‘ But my HIVE has no master, only a Mistress.’

She was the HIVE and H.I.V.E was her. She’d had another name once, a lamentably pedestrian identity, but it lay buried in an unmarked grave along with the husband who thought he could rule her. 

Her organization, while they had aspirations of eventual world domination themselves, was essentially a mercenary one, taking whatever jobs would fill their coffers and grow their power. Over the last several years, her HIVE ‘schools’ were becoming the premiere underworld producer of meta-level operatives. The majority were Metagene Actives, subsequently trained by HIVE, but also included those enhanced by H.I.V.E’s reverse engineered alien technology, or other more esoteric sources of abilities.

“I have reviewed Rossi’s profile, and she will be a useful pawn for us,” she curtly instructed her underlings. “Install the failsafe and attach the Reach’s gift. Then instruct Guardian to prepare a class-2 accelerated training regime.” She bore no true loyalty to the latest batch of would-be alien invaders, who had started reaching out to potential human collaborators many months ago, but she’d happily use and study their fascinating technology. 

As her minions nodded and bowed, she thought, ‘ The Red Bug of Paris has lost his partner, so we’ll give him a new one. The Ladybug will soon be joined by a Scarlet Scarab, two more insects loyal to the HIVE.’

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wayne Manor, December 22 nd , Early Evening

Where Alfred’s more manicured lawn met the wooded natural section of the grounds, a nice fire pit lay surrounded by some logs hewn into stools and various bits of lawn furniture. In all honesty, while it had been originally constructed by Thomas Wayne’s grandfather nearly a century ago, updates over the years made the spot look like something out of a glamping photoshoot. 

Especially at the moment, with most of the Waynes sitting around the merrily burning bonfire, clad mostly in nice zip up sweaters or quality coats. Then again, as one of the wealthiest families around, their wardrobes pretty much always gave away their parents’ income bracket, unless they were purposefully trying to obscure it. 

Tim was showing Carrie and Helena how to carefully roast a marshmallow without burning it, while to his left Steph cheerfully turned her own into molten charcoal. Dick and Jason, despite being adults, had somehow gotten into a competition to see who could catch the most fireflies while Damian watched on with mild embarrassment. Cass and a visiting Kara were sharing a seat by the fire, listening to a rather ribald story Harley was excitedly recounting.

Kate, Ivy, and Diana were a few steps away from the group quietly talking; the two Kane women were trying to give a frazzled Ivy advice on what to get Rose and Harley for their birthday and anniversary respectively, which happened to fall less than a week apart coming up in January. Between that, Hannukah gifts, Christmas gifts, and a wedding gift for Dinah and Babs, it was enough for the overthinking prone Ivy to have stressed herself out.

Dinah had made a pouting Barbara close her laptop and the pair were listening to Harper’s energetic explanation of the robot she was building at school for an upcoming competition. Duke was dozing in his chair next to Bruce, who similarly seemed to have nodded off. The son and father had teamed up to stop a daylight raid on Gotham National Bank the previous day and were both pretty beat. 

Donna and Koriandr were sharing embarrassing stories from Dick’s Robin days with a disbelieving Sandra and Rose. Alfred and Julia had somehow gotten into a fierce but excessively polite debate over how to properly make a smore while Bette was somehow simultaneously playing fetch with Ace, Titus and the Kane puppy Pistos. 

Marinette sat cross legged on the grass at the edge of the clearing in front of a rectangular patch of lawn that had been marked out with little landing flags at the corners. Selina sat next to her alternating between quietly conversing and just sitting there in supportive silence. Occasionally Mari would lean against her mother or glance back at the rest of her assembled family, but for the most part her gaze remained firmly locked on that open spot in the yard.

Tonight was finally the promised date of Chloe’s return, and nothing could have torn Mari away from the spot where she waited. So much in her life had changed since she last saw her best friend; some mornings she felt like an entirely different person. You could easily mistake Mari Wayne for Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s much happier, much healthier twin, rather than the same girl.

She still had an affection for the city she’d once defended, but Gotham felt more like home than Paris ever had, despite her living there for a much shorter amount of time. While occasionally she’d get nostalgic for days spent by the Seine or have a taste for a slice of authentic camembert cheese, there were really only two parts of her old life she felt she needed in her new one. Plagg was currently sleeping in her lap in a marshmallow coma, and the other piece should be magically appearing in front of her in just a little while longer. 

Her family was there to wait with her, both to provide moral support and to help welcome Chloe and Zatanna when they returned to Earth at long last. Steph and Bruce had a hospital ward’s worth of medical supplies lined up to treat any potential injuries, Alfred had prepared a hearty meal of Zee’s favorite lasagna currently under portable heat lamps, and Babs had already faked flight logs and social media posts to show Zatanna arriving in Gotham via conventional means following her ‘meditation retreat’.

Since the whole family wanted to be there for Mari, a few friends were pitching in to watch Gotham that night. Cyborg and Beastboy, Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian, Flash and Impulse, and Katana and Stargirl were watching the city, with Superman on call if things got rough.

Night had fallen early, given it was the shortest day of the year, and Marinette’s breath was visible by the lamp and fire light from the winter chill. Still, she had earmuffs, a scarf, warm layers and shared her body heat with her mother, so she wasn’t uncomfortable, just anxious.

“They’ll be here, kitten,” Selina soothed. She didn’t put a lot of trust in magic, but she did place her trust in Zatanna; her friend would get her daughter’s friend home. ‘ Besides, if she doesn’t, I’ll track down Fate myself and make him open up the portal for a rescue.’

“Okay,” Mari replied. She hated when there was nothing to but wait, but that seemed to be the case tonight. She tried thinking of it like a stakeout and that helped a bit. ‘ Speaking of stakeouts,’ she reminded herself, she wondered if her dad would let her join him in the field this weekend when he planned to drop the hammer on a Black Mask affiliated carjacking ring the family had been surveilling. She’d only recently been allowed back off the bench, and felt the handful of times she’d patrolled since had consisted largely of whomever was patrolling with her steering her away from danger. She appreciated and reciprocated her family’s concern, but she was itching to get back to helping her adopted city.

She had been allowed to work with Barbara the last two weeks, digitally tracking a consortium of ransomware slinging hackers they suspected were based in Gotham and connected to the Ibanescu crime family. Computer skills were still an area she lagged behind the rest of the family, so it was a good chance for her to get some experience, and something to focus on, trying to take her mind off the impending arrival.

Not that it had really worked; Mari plucked at the grass with her left hand nervously. She’d been thinking about this night ever since Thanksgiving, and now that it was finally here, her stomach was a storm of butterflies. And she hated butterflies. ‘ If I was like this a year ago, I’d probably be Akumatized by now.’

It was stupid. She’d been looking forward to seeing Chloe again for so long, so why was she nervous? ‘ What if she’s changed? What if she doesn’t really want to return to Earth, and she’s only going to visit?’ According to Zatanna’s message, this Gemworld was apparently Chloe’s homeland. Maybe she’d even found family there. Marinette felt so much better coming home to Gotham, maybe Chloe felt the same about Gemworld.

It was selfish, she knew, but she really hoped her fears were unfounded, that the plan for Chloe to stay in Gotham with Ms. Zatara would be a permanent one. She knew she was spiraling a bit and did her best to stay calm; the uncertainty was just getting to her. 

Wanting to get her mind off her worries, she turned to her mom and asked “did Aunt Lois say if there were any-“

Her words were cut off by a topaz gemstone appearing in a flare of light above the designated area for arrival. Mari sprung to her feet like the cat she was as the stone flew downward, drawing a glowing amber line in midair like chalk on an invisible chalkboard. It then circumscribed a circle around the top and bottom of the line which then turned into two halves of a circular magical doorway. Mari was distantly aware of her family all snapping to attention and getting prepared around her, but all her attention was on the door itself. ‘ Finally’.

Two figures stepped out from the glowing amber doorway, but Mari only had eyes for one of them. She was taller than she remembered her being, maybe standing a full half foot higher than Marinette herself. Her once honey blonde hair was now an iridescent violet that matched the eyes Mari adored. Her previously stick thin frame had gained hard lithe muscle, there was a thin white scar on her upper left arm, and she’d traded her old trendy clothes for impossibly fine chainmail and armored golden greaves. She even held herself differently, no longer self-consciously prim and proud, but loose and reactive in that way those with martial training did.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. The warrior princess blinking her eyes to adjust to the change in light after stepping through the magical portal was still her. It was still Chloe that Mari saw. 

There were so many things she’d wanted to do, been planning to do, the moment she saw Chloe again. She wanted to hug her, to tell her how much she’d missed her, to check over the other girl’s body with a fine-toothed comb to make sure she wasn’t hurt. She’d planned to reaffirm to Chloe that she was her best friend and to tell her how much that friendship meant to her. She’d take her by the hand and introduce her to all her new siblings and cousins and aunts and parents before asking a million questions about what had happened to the other girl in Gemworld. However, when Chloe, wearing some crazy pseudo-Amazonian get up, her blonde hair dyed purple, took her first steps onto the grounds of Wayne Manor, Mari Wayne didn’t do any of that.

Instead, without saying a word, she took five quick strides toward Chloe, grabbed either side of the suddenly taller girl’s face and pulled her into a messy, clumsy, but still perfect kiss. All those butterflies of uncertainty in Mari’s stomach fell silent, replaced with an unshakeable certainty. She wanted this, wanted her, and thank the Kwamis, it seemed like Chloe wanted Marinette too.

Their lips met and then their tongues. Mari kept cupping Chloe’s face while the other girl reached around Mari’s head and wove her fingers into her midnight blue-black hair. Mari’s heart pounded like a drum and she had to resist purring in pleasure from the beautiful feeling blossoming between the two of them. They were standing in a small crowd, but in that singular moment, neither of them gave a single damn about the onlooking audience for their first kiss.

In the years and decades to come, it would prove to be only the first of many. The love of Mari’s life had finally come back to her, and she wasn’t going to let her go again.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Batcave, A few hours later, Late Night

Chloe fiddled with the hem of the slightly too big white tee shirt she’d been given to wear. It wasn’t like the garments the Waynes had provided her, a tee shirt, Wayne Enterprises Hoodie, and a pair of jeans, were uncomfortable, she just wasn’t used to the feel of modern earth textiles after so long in either hand spun tunics and breeches or magical armor. The street clothes also made her feel like her new purple hair stood out in a way it hadn’t back in Gemworld, but she hadn’t yet managed to get a look at herself in a mirror to know for sure.

It was a few hours after their arrival and the adults had finally managed to pry Mari and her apart from one another. They hadn’t even talked that much yet, just clung to each other’s presence after so long apart. Besides, Chloe didn’t even know how to start the conversation they should probably have after their enthusiastic greeting…

‘Nope!’ She instructed herself, crossing her arms to stave off replaying that glorious yet confusing moment in her mind for the five millionth time. She was currently in the apparently MASSIVE freaking secret base Marinette’s birth dad had below his house and been giving an overview of what had occurred in Gemworld to the Batman along with Zatanna, who sat to her side.

Mari had also wanted to stay with her through the debrief but Chloe had told her she’d be okay and to get some rest. Knowing the other girl, she doubted Marinette had slept in the last 24 hours leading up to their transit to Earth; Chloe certainly hadn’t. ‘ It’s probably a good sign of how they’ve been treating her that Mari seemed comfortable leaving me with Mr. Wayne,’ Chloe decided. She very much wanted to believe Zatanna’s words about the Waynes, but while the witch had earned her absolute trust, Mari’s new family would still have to prove themselves worthy of her remarkable Lady Noire in Chloe’s eyes. 

Batman wasn’t unkind, but he was very direct and thorough in typing up the report on what occurred in Gemworld. Weirdly enough it reminded Chloe of how Mari used to keep detailed notebooks on every Akuma she and Bugboy fought, from their abilities to their trigger, so if they ever got re-Akumatized she would be better prepared for it. He wasn’t wearing the cowl, but even in a cashmere sweater and slacks, his countenance made him seem more like the fearsome Batman than the goofball Brucie Wayne Chloe was vaguely familiar with from magazines Andre used to read. 

Eventually though they reached the end of her tale, having covered everything from the moment Chloe landed in a heap in the little magic circle Pazzy and Emmy had drawn up, to the rough political situation in Gemworld when they had left. Now, Mr. Wayne had stepped away to a different corner of the cave where he conversed quietly with the dark-haired Mrs. Kane, one of the red haired women she hadn’t caught the name of (Ivy), and Zatanna. 

Chloe could guess what they were talking about: what they were going to do with her now. She knew the broad strokes since she’d accepted Zee’s offer to stay with her, and she was 99% confident the heroine wouldn’t backpedal and rescind the offer. She tried to ignore the quiet 1% that said she’d just get abandoned once again. 

Mr. Wayne had started to explain that there was a small array of possible options for how to handle her immigration to the US and new legal paperwork, when Zee had asked to talk to him privately for a moment. That had been fifteen minutes ago, and Chloe kept glancing over to the conversation where it looked like Zee had a worried expression. That traitorous 1% shifted up to 2% even while Chloe told herself ‘ It’s fine, Zee promised she’d let you stay with her here in Gotham. You won’t have to go back to fath- to Andre. She promised.’

Eventually though, after Mrs. Kane clapped Zee on the back and the red-haired woman chuckled, the other three adults stepped away towards the lift that would take them back up into the, honestly gorgeous, mansion Marinette now lived in, leaving the two women freshly returned from Gemworld alone in the cave. Zatanna took a deep breath and started walking back over towards her, a tentative smile on her face. Her behavior was strange and made Chloe uncomfortable, as she hadn’t seen her mentor look so nervous except for perhaps before they split up to launch the final assault on Opal. She took the seat right next to Chloe.

Zatanna, who wore a white blouse, black leather jacket, and jeans she’d borrowed from Kate, nervously readjusted the white gloves she wore, appearing almost as anxious as Chloe felt. Then the hero took another deep breath and took the plunge, saying what she needed to say. “So, like Bruce mentioned there are a couple of options for how to handle your new legal identity and we definitely need to talk them through, but...” hesitating just a moment, the magician with casual sleight of hand removed a sheaf of papers from her inside jacket pocket.

She set the documents, duplicated in English and French on the table in front of Chloe. “Chloe, if you would grant me the honor, I’d like to adopt you.”

Chloe’s purple eyes turned wide as saucers and she couldn’t find the words for a response, just gaping at the older woman she’d come to think of as a mentor and trying to process what she’d just heard. ‘ Zee wants to be…. My mom?’

Fidgeting a bit nervously at Amethyst’s silent response, Zatanna plowed on, trying to express what she felt. “I know I’ll never be a replacement for Lady Amethyst, and I know we haven’t known each other that long, but a good friend of mine is fond of saying when you find someone who’s supposed to be your kid, you just know.” Zee smiled softly at Chloe, showing more warmth in that one instant than Audrey, or even Andre had shown in the Parisian girl’s entire life. “And when I met you Chloe, I think I knew you were supposed to be my daughter within the first fifteen minutes, and by the end of the week I was ready to tear that jerk Lord Aquamarine’s head off just for insulting you.” Zee leaned back a bit and took another breath, before saying, “now, this is entirely your choice and one you can have all the time to think about that you want. I’ve said how I feel, but how you feel is just as important. No matter what you decide, I’d like to be a part of your life from now on, however much you’re comfortable with.” She paused one more time before echoing the words her late father used to tell her every night before bed and every time they parted, “I love you, Tesora.”

‘This doesn’t make any sense,’ Chloe’s mind informed her, ‘nobody wants to be my mother’. She was a disgrace of a daughter; Audrey had always made that clear. She’d tried for years and years to be the child Audrey Bourgeois wanted, and it had never worked, never made her love her. ‘ And that was back in Paris when I made sure to impress, always perfectly dressed, always the top of the class, always the best.’ Zee hadn’t seen her like that, at all; she’d been with her when Chloe was usually covered in mud, dirt and grime. Hell, the day Zatanna saved her from the dragon, Amaya Amethyst hadn’t showered in weeks. 

So it didn’t make any sense, none whatsoever; it was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. She opened her mouth to say that, to explain to Zatanna that she was obviously making a mistake. Letting Chloe stay in her house was a kindness she could understand, expect even from the heroic woman, but surely Zee had misspoken. Nobody wanted Chloe in their family. She tried to say all that, but instead all that came out was a teeny tiny voice asking “are you sure?”

Zatanna gently took her hand, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of something, Tesora.”

“What does that mean,” Chloe asked, not recognizing the word. Just like back when Zatanna had first made the offer to let Chloe stay with her, she was fixating on stary details to avoid confronting the roil of emotions within her.

“It means treasure,” Zatanna explained, “it’s something my father used to call me.”

Treasure. Zatanna thought she was a treasure, not a waste of space, an embarrassment to the family, or a failed experiment. It still didn’t really make sense to her, but Chloe so desperately wanted it to be true that she decided to take the plunge. Even if this was a temporary delusion on Zatanna’s part, it would be a nice dream for a little while.

“Where do I sign?”

=

Hours later, with the sun starting to rise again in the sky, after the crying and hugging, the pair did work through the details of Chloe’s new living arrangements. She’d be moving in with her new adoptive mother, naturally, in the relocated Zatara mansion on her property in Gotham and Zee would be taking up a residency at the Powers Hotel and Casino in town, so she didn’t have to be back on the road all the time.

It unfortunately wasn’t practical to entirely separate Chloe from her old identity. That might have been what Batwoman preferred, to keep the criminals apparently still looking for her from catching her scent, but they ultimately decided it wouldn’t be a workable solution. Marinette had put some distance between her old life and her new one, but she hadn’t created a new legal identity and it didn’t take an insane amount of digging to know Marinette Wayne had once lived in Paris under the name Marinette Dupain-Cheng, though the Wayne lawyers had thoroughly buried and expunged the girl’s juvenile record.

In light of that, anyone who had known Mari back in Paris and saw a photograph of her with Chloe, would recognize the other former Parisian. She could avoid the cameras as much as was feasible, like Ivy and Harley did, but even with her new hair and eye color her change in appearance wasn’t as dramatic as theirs. Besides, there was also no way in Hades Chloe and Mari weren’t going to stick close together.

Zee had offered her a chameleon charm she could wear to change her look, but they agreed that was setting themselves up for trouble if the necklace it was tied to ever accidentally slipped off. So, she’d still have a connection to her old life buried under the paperwork, but they would do what they could to put some distance between the two and limit the number of people who made the connection.

Her new name would be Amaya Chloe Zatara, and they were backdating her adoption papers to the week after Hawkmoth was defeated. As far as the UNWITSEC department was concerned, the super criminal event she was associated with was the Akuma attacks anyway. If anyone asked, she’d been living with Zee since then on Earth, not galivanting across a magical realm she was technically the ruler of. 

Chloe also privately decided that when she started at Gotham Academy, the school Mari attended and where she would be enrolling, she wasn’t going to volunteer the fact she was adopted, or if people knew, she wouldn’t say it had only been recently. She wasn’t ashamed to be adopted, she felt incredibly honored, still overwhelmed really, that Zatanna had chosen her, but she didn’t want to draw attention to the fact she was also from Paris and knew Marinette before she became a Wayne.

‘ The last thing we need is people noticing two girls from the same school in Paris both relocated to Gotham around the same time and get suspicious as to why,’ Chloe thought. Maybe it was her best friend’s paranoia about her secret identity rubbing off on her, but she didn’t want to risk being the loose thread that unraveled Lady Noire’s secrets. She’d tell the truth, if necessary, but as far as most people would know she’d grown up on the road with Zatanna. The thought of a childhood actually spent that way brought a bittersweet smile to her lips.

Andre Bourgeois apparently had indeed actually been indicted for his financial crimes, forced to step down from his position as mayor of Paris and, now that the corruption money had stopped flowing, was defaulting on his loans. Chloe pushed it from her mind for now; trying to figure out her complicated feelings for her former adoptive father would have to wait for another day. 

There were still a few I’s to dot and T’s to cross, but eventually they got to a point where both of them were just exhausted, physically and emotionally. Bruce offered to put them up in the Manor tonight and Zatanna gratefully accepted, saying she’d set up Shadowcrest the next night. Mari basically dragged Chloe upstairs, straight past the guest room to her own room, where she forcefully put the magical girl to bed, insisting she needed her rest. Chloe wanted to protest, but she was rather tired, and Mari’s bed was very comfortable, not to mention it smelled like Marinette. She drifted off to sleep within two minutes under Mari’s watchful eye.

It was a happy scene of returned friends, new love starting to finally blossom, and a new family forging itself. Bruce and Kate were sorting the paperwork in concert with the UN witness protection program the Justice League liaised with, much of the family were getting some much needed sleep, and Zatanna finally let herself relax in one of Bruce and Selina’s overly plush guest rooms, the worry over Chloe potentially saying no finally unwinding. For just a moment, everything seemed right, and it would for a few hours more. That peace would last until a diminutive figure in a deerstalker approached the gates to Wayne Manor wrapped his hairy knuckles against the callbox, accompanies by a girl with bloodshot eyes and bearing news of a terrible fate.

Chapter Text

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Antares Star System, 500+ Light Years from Earth

(All Dialogue translated to English for the Reader’s convenience. All songs given as approximate Earth equivalents, also for the Reader’s convenience. The author wishes Lobo could be removed but things can’t be that convenient.)

In the inky darkness of space’s infinite vacuum, silence reigned supreme. Even as you neared the blazing red giant star at the heart of this particular gravity well, there was not a solitary noise. At least, there wasn’t one until a giant motorbike shaped spacecraft came hurtling through.

“GET YOUR MOTOR RUNNING!” Lobo yell-sang in the bubble of atmosphere his SpaceHog generated around the craft. “GET OUT ON THE HIGHWAY!” The bounty hunter was blasting one of his favorite cassettes at a volume that would be considered a deadly weapon in at least a dozen sectors, without a care in the cosmos.

The Main Man was feeling fraggin pumped after crashing the royal wedding back on Tameran. ‘ Those keezy fems and bastiches talk funny, but they know how to ball!’ Sure, he was now a mortal enemy of their empress and had yet another price on his head, but when you were the top bounty hunter in the quadrant, you didn’t really sweat that kind of thing.

The wild looking last Czarnian, whose bulging ash white muscles showed no signs of his scrap with the palace guards after his healing factor had kicked into gear, let out an almighty foul-smelling belch, turning his little pocket of atmosphere into a hazmat zone for most species.

He wasn’t on the job at the moment, and just kind of vaguely flying in the direction of the planet Garnett, better known as simply the Hellhole. It was universally recognized as the most criminal, lawless planet in the galaxy, or, as Lobo saw it, a place to spend a fun weekend. However, his plans to continue his latest bender across the cosmos were destined to be cut short with the only thing Lobo liked better than a good time, a lucrative job. 

“Hiya, Lobo, how’s it hanging?” A female voice buzzed from his comm unit, cutting in over the music.

“Ramona, you bastich!” Lobo answered, excited to hear from his sometimes lover and sometimes employer. “It’s been too long, baby-cakes. What can the Main Man do for you?”

“I’m afraid it’s business not pleasure this time,” Ramona’s voice replied. “I’ve got a job for you. An earther got their hands on enough creds to put a price on some chick. I’ll shoot you the deets, but this one’s strictly capture alive, capishe? They need her for some freaky deaky ceremony shit, and they need her breathing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lobo replied dismissively. The bounty hunter was notorious for trying to kill his targets, regardless of what the placer of the bounty requested. “Earth, huh? Haven’t been back to that ball of mud since I tangled with Supes.” The violence loving maniac felt his blood start to burn with excitement. “Yaowza! Hope the Krypto tries to get in the way again. I need a good scrap.”

He tuned out Ramona trying to persuade him to go in quiet, and focus on getting the job done, already too excited to throw hands with some of Earth’s surprisingly half-decent fighters. Sure, he’d find this Amethyst chicka, but he could have a little fun on the way. It would take a while to get to earth from his current location, so it only made sense to get going. He hit in the new destination on his nav computer and wheeled his bike about, before closing the call and cranking his music back up to 11.

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Gotham, Wayne Manor Grounds, December 22 nd , Night of Chloe’s Return.

The first thought that occurred to Chloe as she stepped through the shimmering doorway between dimensions, was ‘ wow, earth looks so much more earth-y’. She hadn’t noticed it after a while of getting used to the artificial world of Gemworld, but it was like the two realms were drawn with a different color palette. On Gemworld, greens were neon, blues were electric, yellows were pearlescent; Earth was just more natural, for lack of a better term, and softer on the eyes.

Her second thought was ‘ Holy shards! Mari’s kissing me!’

After that there was an indeterminate period of perfect bliss as her mind went utterly blank, the feeling of the other girl’s lips on hers eradicating every single thought in her head until they parted for breath. 

Then the world whirred back into motion, starting with Mari hastily retreating and beginning to babble in that way she did whenever she was anxious or embarrassed, launching into utter word salad as she led Chloe and a bemused Zee out into the meadow. Chloe didn’t realize how much she’d missed those rambles.

= 

Once she managed to tear her eyes away from Mari momentarily, and take in her surroundings, the first thing that struck Chloe was that Marinette had apparently joined a family of models. Like, Chloe had been backstage at a fashion show before as a kid via her friendship with Adrien, and she was getting serious deja vu. She knew Bruce Wayne was famously handsome, but he might not even hold a candle to his gorgeous wife, and the rest of the family were no slouches either. The guys were handsome, the women beautiful, and the sleepy little dark-haired girl was cute as a button. Even the old guy in the suit had a sort of refined charm about him.

Of course, in her own opinion at least, Mari was prettier than all of them and had somehow become even more attractive than the version of her that had lived in Chloe’s memories for the last year.

Mari was always gorgeous, but it seemed she’d really blossomed in Gotham’s soil. Her hair, which had become a mess of split ends and uneven cuts back in Paris, was now longer, with voluminous silky waves cascading down her back, not quite as long as it was when she was Lady Noire, but still significantly longer. Her complexion had cleared up, (Chloe was absolutely going to steal her new skin routine,) her nails were neatly trimmed, and in general she just looked much healthier.

Chloe had absolutely always made sure Mari had food when she was living on the run from child services, but it tended to be prepackaged snacks and takeaways that were easier to conceal and transport, not necessarily the most nutritionally balanced. Not to mention the self-sacrificing idiot made a big deal of taking only what was absolutely necessary from Chloe.

Still, while Mari remained lithe, she’d filled out with just a bit of healthy weight that made Chloe feel better; she hated the idea of Mari turning into nothing but skin and bones. She’d also notably started putting on a bit of weight in a very particular area that made Chloe feel very flustered from all the hugging they’d been doing. (She didn’t realize her own boobs were creating a mirror reaction in Marinette.)

Beyond the physical changes though, were all the more surface level differences in appearance. Marinette had long worn secondhand clothes the Dupain-Chengs bought on the cheap, learning to mend them herself to extend their use. The girl had a real eye for fashion, so usually managed to put together a passable outfit even by Chloe’s high standards, but it was still noticeable. 

‘ And that was before that bitch Lila made her live on the streets’ Chloe reflected. After that, the girl had lost most of her hard-won wardrobe, Tom simply tossing it in the garbage the day after she left. Mari had been in her Lady Noire outfit more than anything else, but when she had worn regular clothes, it had been spare garments Chloe had leant her, and she’d refused anything even slightly expensive or nice. 

Now though, Mari was casually slaying in the softest looking v neck green sweater, sheer pinstripe tights, a pleated charcoal skirt and a dark blue peacoat for the cold. ‘ For Pollen’s sake, I think she even has makeup on. ’ Like, Mari had always had style, obviously; the girl loved fashion even more than Chloe did. She just wasn’t used to seeing a Marinette who wasn’t having to cobble her outfits together with what little she had.

She was about to ask Mari where she got the sweater when she felt Zee put her hand on her shoulder. Turning around she saw her mentor standing with Bruce Wayne and a redheaded woman she didn’t recognize. Chloe sighed; it looked like her long-awaited reunion with Marinette would have to be temporarily paused so they could be debriefed. At least it would give her a few moments to get used to the idea of an even more stunning Marinette. ‘ Who just kissed you…’

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Marinette Protection Squad Chat

JASON: All right, let’s get down to business.

DICK: TO DEFEAT…

CARRIE: THE HUNS!

JASON: Shut up, how am I related to you people?

HARPER: Uh, why did you make a group chat without Mari?

JASON: Because we need to talk about Mari.

JASON: Or more specifically, her purple eyed girlfriend.

DUKE: Are they, like, officially dating?

DICK: They literally had a big damn kiss the moment they reunited. If someone had snapped a picture, you could have put that on the trope page. Wait, Timbo, did you get a picture?

TIM: That’s for me to reveal on Mari’s birthday.

JASON: Point is, we need to figure out what our play is.

TIM: And we’re discussing it as a group so we can avoid another Black Canary situation.

HARPER: What happened with Dinah?

STEPH: We maaaaayyyybbeee failed to coordinate who was doing the shovel talk, all went with our own plan, and she spent a week convinced we were all planning to kill her.

CASS: 💕

BABS: I’m still not happy about that.

CASS: 😇

BABS: I won’t be charmed, Cass. You lot will never see my revenge coming.

JASON: ANYWAY, we’ve all met the mythical Chloe now. What do we think?

DICK: I like her!

DAMIAN: You like everyone, Richard.

DICK: That’s not true! I got a totally bad vibe with that girl Duke took to the spring formal last May.

DUKE: Bro, Kathryn was a secret supervillain and I only went to fancy-prom with her so I could slip a bug in her car. We arrested her two days later!

JASON: Yeah, that doesn’t count, dickwad.

TIM: I think she seems nice, if obviously guarded after what she experienced. Aunt Zee vouching for her is a big mark in her favor, so, tentative approval?

STEPH: I could get behind that. Mari and she are almost as skittish about their feelings as Tim and Rose are, but unlike my dear brother, my sister can actually close. I say we hang back and let them figure things out without heaping the pressure on. We’ll let her know what happens to her if she hurts Mari after they get serious.

TIM: Can you express your opinion without insulting me?

STEPH: No, 😛

CARRIE: I’m biased. She promised to tell me how Aunt Zee does the teleporting ring trick, and I am bribable. 

TIM: You know, if I had a nickel for every time one of my siblings fell in love with a blonde alien princess, I’d have three nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it happened thrice.

CASS: Kara is not a Princess

DICK: And Kori’s not actually blonde

HARPER: And I don’t really think Chloe counts as an alien

CARRIE: Tim, we’re richer than Plutus, you don’t need any more nickels.

TIM: ☹️

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Mari’s Room, December 23 rd , Late Morning

(Dialogue in French)

Chloe was seven years old again and playing in the park with Adrien. Her friend’s mother watched on from a distance as they chased butterflies with their nets, giggling and shouting in excitement when they caught one. It was a good day.

But all good days had to end, and soon enough Adrien and his mother walked away as the sun dimmed. Chloe was collected by the newest butler, brought on after her mother had fired the last and ushered towards the car. They changed so often she had trouble keeping their names straight. As she went, she missed the fact her shoelace had come undone and tripped, falling and skinning her knee.

She couldn’t remember the drive home, only the sniffling she did from the pain on her leg. It wasn’t any great injury, but she was seven. A part of her felt like this had happened before, long ago. That she’d run into the house they were living in at the time, one of a dozen properties they’d bounced between before Andre purchased the Hotel and gone looking for her mother. Audrey had chastised her for getting blood on her new dress when Chloe had gone for a hug and passed her off to a maid before declaring she needed some space. She hadn’t returned for six months.

But when the town car arrived at her home, it wasn’t the hazy house she half remembered, it was Castle Amethyst. The little girl didn’t notice anything strange about that, dashing into the ruined halls of her ancestral home, looking for comfort. “Mama!”

She ran into something soft and felt two arms close around her. “Hey, Tesora, it’s okay.” Zatanna murmured. “Your mom’s got you.”

Chloe awoke with a start, coming abruptly out of her dream.   It had been half a memory, and half what she wished her childhood had actually been like. The seemingly ridiculous fact that Zatanna had actually gotten adoption papers for her was still rattling around her mind as she woke just as it had been when she’d collapsed exhausted onto Mari’s bed.

‘ MARI’S BED!’ Chloe thought, her eyes flying open wide as she remembered where she was. She was laying on a big queen size four poster bed with ridiculously plush green and black bedding and a silk canopy in sky-blue. She was under the covers and, as a testament to modern manufacturing, feeling cozier and more comfortable than she’d felt even in Gemworld’s royal residences. 

To her left was Marinette, wearing a monogrammed green silk pajama set and curled up on top of the covers, near Chloe, but definitively not touching. The dark-haired girl was slowly uncurling, stretching out like a cat in a sunbeam and blinking from the light streaming in through the window.

Even after last night, there was still so much they had to talk about, but the first thing out of Chloe’s mouth was, “why are we covered in cats?”

There were at least three felines sharing the bed with her and Marinette that morning, and she spied another curled up under the windowsill. Marinette smiled blindingly and sat up on the bed, eagerly pointing from cat to cat as she explained. “Oh, these are my cats! That’s Nephthys, and that’s Alfred by the window, and the one under your arm is Mittens, and this little guy is Osiris!”

“Your cats?” Chloe asked. She knew her friend had always wanted a pet, but getting four in the time she’d been in Gotham seemed like an overcorrection.

Marinette blushed, as easily flustered by Chloe as ever, “well, my family’s cats.”

Chloe smiled, still charmed by how adorkable Marinette was before asking a bit more seriously, “so, your family, huh? I guess things have gone pretty well with the Waynes?” Zatanna had assured her a dozen times, but Chloe was still worried about how Mari had been treated living with her birth father and new relations. 

“More than I could have imagined,” Mari replied sincerely. “Everyone’s been great from the start, my brothers, my sisters, my aunts and uncle, and especially mom and dad.”

Chloe, who realized she still wore the plain sweats she’d been lent the night before, sat up herself and asked, “mom and dad?” surprised Mari was already using those terms for Selina and Bruce and a little concerned. She remembered the phase when Mari had tried to force a closer familial relationship with Tom and Sabine by calling them Papa and Maman, and how devastated the girl had been when it hadn’t worked.

Seeming to read her mind, Marinette nodded confidently. “Trust me, Chloe. I didn’t say it lightly. Like I said, they were wonderful from the start, but…. It took time to trust them, to trust this wasn’t temporary. They’re not stuck with me, they want me” Her expression softened and grew wistful, “it’s hard to explain how wonderful it feels to actually be wanted, you know?”

The Princess of Gemworld thought back to the dream she’d been having, “I know exactly what you mean, kitty-cat.” If the Waynes made Marinette feel like Zatanna made her feel, she wasn’t going to second guess it. She’d keep a wary eye on them to make sure they lived up to the faith Mari seemed to have in them, but tentatively she’d hope Mari really had found her home. 

After that they just sat there talking for over an hour, about everything and nothing. It was impossible to relate everything that had happened since they’d been parted in a single conversation, but they certainly tried. It all came out in a haphazard jumble; one moment Mari was talking about the afternoon Jason decided she just needed to experience all the major Gotham tourist traps, and the next a somber Chloe was admitting how frightened she’d been in her first real fight. 

For Marinette’s part, she felt over the moon. All her worries that they might have changed too much to still be the same to one another washed away; it was like picking up right where they left off, only this time it was Chloe in Marinette’s bed and the other girl was a welcome guest, rather than a hidden secret. 

However, as they talked and talked, and, outside, the sun rose higher in the sky, Mari could feel the elephant in the room steadily intruding on her bliss. ‘ I kissed Chloe, I kissed Chloe, I kissed Chloe, dear PLAGG! Why did I kiss Chloe?’ Her best friend just got back to earth and without even saying hello, Marinette had impulsively locked lips with her and in the back of her mind she was increasingly panicking over that fact.

‘ Oh kwamis, I’ve probably screwed everything up. She’s probably so confused, and put off, and offended, and trying to figure out how to let me down easy. Aphrodite damn it, she probably has a girlfriend back in Gemworld and I’ve made everything horribly awkward and-‘

“Earth to Mari,” Chloe said, tapping lightly on Marinette’s forehead, “it looked like you zoned out there for a minute.”

Mari opened her mouth to calmly and confidently dismiss Chloe’s worry, only for her frazzled, previously internal monologue to come spilling out instead. “Chloe I am so, so sorry for kissing you without asking. I mean, why would I even ask, the answer obviously would have been no, and you just got back and I shouldn’t spring something like that on you and I’m just the worst friend ever and it was a big mistake, and we should just forget it why don’t-“

“MARI!” Chloe shouted over the other girl’s accelerating backpedaling ramble. She’d gotten very familiar with Marinette’s tendency to spew word salad in stressful social situations, but rarely seen it quite so bad. She understood how anxious Mari was about this particular situation, as she shared the same fears, but she refused to let them hold her back. ‘ Mari showed her courage last night, now it’s my turn.’

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Chloe said directly, having mustered all the daring she’d found fighting a war. “I’m incredibly glad you did it.”

“You are?” Mari squeaked.

Chloe smiled softly, “more than anything, kitty-cat. Mari, I-” She paused and took a moment to find her words. “Mari, I spent a long time thinking there was a good chance I’d never see you again. Over there, especially before Zee came, but even after, tomorrow was never something you could take for granted.”

Marinette touched her leg and stared at her with obvious concern on her face, “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, bumblebee.”

The purple haired girl huffed, “it’s crazy, y’know? Everything that seemed so important in my life just felt so small in the face of Gemworld’s fight for freedom. I didn’t have time to care about Sabrina not returning my texts, or Lila having those idiots at school wrapped around her finger, or even Fa-Andre ignoring me even more than usual. I forgot about all of that,” she took Mari’s hand in hers, “but I never forgot about you.”

She felt incredibly vulnerable, every instinct screaming at her to clam up or try to play it off, but Chloe forced herself to continue. If she didn’t say how she felt now, she might never be able to do it. “Marinette, I never stopped thinking about you, every day, every night. I hated the thought that you weren’t just an ocean away, but a whole universe. The last thing I said to you might have been wishing you well when you went to get on that plane, and it wasn’t enough. That was a goodbye between best friends and that’s not what I want us to be Marinette. I want more. So no, I’m not mad, and it wasn’t a mistake. Our kiss was the most wonderful homecoming I could have ever imagined.”

In lieu of replying for words, Marinette leaned in slowly and met Chloe for their second kiss. It was more tentative, slower, softer than the first but no less wonderful. They parted but stayed close, just sort of resting against one another and taking turns blushing.

“That was nice,” Chloe said after a moment.

“Yeah,” Marinette agreed. “But I guess we should probably have a conversation about, y’know, what we are, what the expectations are.”

Chloe pouted, “do we have to? Kissing is a lot more fun.”

Marinette booped her on the nose, one of only two people on earth who could do that to Chloe without getting a blast of purple magic in return. “Oh definitely, but I want to do this properly.”

The following conversation was awkward and embarrassing for both of them. They talked about their feelings, but also their fears and found they were remarkably on the same page. Both were really attracted to one another, but worried about messing up their friendship, and, ironically, hadn’t thought the other would reciprocate their feelings. 

Chloe was a little shocked at how frankly Mari was able to talk about relationship dynamics, despite the occasional blush or stutter. She didn’t realize at the time that Mari had over half a year of living with the Waynes, getting to see healthy relationships modeled and repeatedly learning the value of communication.

“It’s just kind of weird,” Chloe eventually said. “Like, I definitely want to be romantically involved with you, but you’re also my best friend, and I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

Mari smiled slyly, in a way Chloe would have said was more Lady Noire than Marinette, and said “well, Barbara’s been bouncing ideas for her vows off of me, and unless she’s way off base, I’m pretty sure being in a romantic relationship with your best friend is totally allowed.”

“So, you’re my…” Chloe began.

“I’m your girlfriend,” Mari replied happily, “and you’re mine.”

Chloe smirked, “how lucky are you?”

Marinette just smiled wider at the teasing, “very, very lucky.” Then she leaned in for their third kiss (Eventually, but much later than either of them would admit, they’d stop counting). It was a beautiful soft moment, only slightly ruined by Carrie bursting into the room at that very moment to loudly announce there was a talking chimpanzee in the foyer. 

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League of Assassins Hidden Base, Yunnan Province, China, Late December

A hulking behemoth of a man, standing 7’1 and made of muscle, swung his heavy spiked kanobo down in a vicious arc, but his target, a slim goateed man in a green and black gi simply glided out of the way. The giant continued his forward momentum, letting go of his weapon with one hand to try and smash his elbow into the smaller man’s head, but, in a stunning display of control, the other fighter used a variant of baguazhang to redirect the force of the strike and spin away. 

The fight continued in that fashion for a time, the larger man trying in vain to land a single strike on his opponent, steadily breaking and damaging parts of the wooden training room as they went. Eventually though, it seemed the shorter man grew bored of their fight, and in a flash a dagger appeared in his hand. Seconds later the towering warrior collapsed to the ground, clutching fruitlessly at his slit throat, before eventually he fell dead with a heavy THUD!

Ras Al Guhl scowled, irritated at himself for his lack of control. Juren had been a diverting sparring partner, and while all lives of those within the League were his to do with as he pleased, he tried not to be so wasteful. At his signal robed attendants rushed in to handle the body and he stalked out of his personal dojo, still stewing over the thoughts he’d been exercising to try and distract himself from.

He entered his throne room, one of many identical copies in each of his myriad major bases and breathed deeply of the incense that burned within. The day was looming when he would need to partake of the Pit to once again renew his strength, and his daughter’s idiocy had ensured he would not be able to steal his unexpected grandchild away from the Detective before that date and the subsequent period of recovery.

Talia had apologized of course, thrown herself on his mercy as she explained it had merely been a blindness brought on by maternal affection that led her to prematurely launch an operation to bring Marinette into the fold without his explicit approval. He understood it was a weakness of her sex, but he’d of course been furious. He’d tasked his elder daughter Nyssa with seeing to Talia’s punishment and assured her that if she were not his blood, she would have died for her impudence.

If she had succeeded, he might have looked far more kindly upon her actions, but she had not. Worse than disobedient, she had shown her weakness in failing to overcome her former paramour and his allies, and Ras had no tolerance for failure. It would need to be purged from her before she was let out in the field again.

Regardless of Talia’s reeducation, the damage had been done. The assets he’d painstakingly moved into the Detective’s city had been burned and wasted on a failed operation. Only a meager skeleton remained, and his eyes and ears had gone dark in the heart of his adversary’s domain. It would take years to rebuild what had been lost, and the ongoing cold war between his League and Batman’s League had tilted against the Demon’s favor.

He sat on his throne and steepled his hands, brooding. This grandchild Talia had hidden from him and subsequently lost for so long might be out of his easy reach for now, but she remained an intriguing figure. His mystics informed him that the power she possessed could become quite potent if properly developed, and she was of his blood and thus superior. 

The girl obviously couldn’t succeed him due to her feebler gender, obviously, but even a female with the blood of the demon was the better of most men. Talia and Nyssa were temperamental and impetuous, but also two of his finest assassins, and this recently discovered granddaughter could be the same, after proper reeducation. ‘ In a few years she might even bear the proper male heir I’ve been waiting for, provided a suitable sire can be found.’

Unfortunately, she’d displayed a damnable sentimentality that would have to be stamped out eventually. It was the fundamental flaw that ruined the Detective and infected both of the children he’d sired. The reports he’d been receiving from his minions placed in Gotham before Talia’s foolishness had destroyed most of their covers indicated Marinette suffered in particular from an affection for her so-called siblings, ‘but then again, this disadvantage might be turned into an advantage for me.’

The beginnings of a plan swirled in his mind. He could use the connections between the Detective’s wards against them; all he need do was capture another when he brought Damian and Marinette into the fold, and he could then use their continued survival as leverage to compel Talia’s children into serving the League that was their blood. It would be dangerous, like holding a cobra by the head, but Ras was no stranger to risk. ‘ Given time, we can break them down, remold them into weapons that bear all the Detective’s strengths and none of his weakness’

A cold smile graced his features for the first time in weeks. It would have to wait until his rejuvenation and recovery had been completed, but in time, everything would work out in the immortal’s favor.

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Wayne Manor, December 23 rd , Afternoon

The somber mood pervading the sitting room was at odds with the cheery Christmas decorations currently decking out the manor. Traci and Bobo had been sat on a plush white couch after getting ushered inside and someone, she thought it was the butler, had draped a thick blanket over the girl. It had poured that morning and her hoodie and cargo pants, already somewhat dirty after weeks on the road with Bobo, were soaked. Distantly she worried about messing up the sofa, but she didn’t dwell on it. Compared to what was on her mind, it hardly seemed to matter.

Sitting across from her and her simian companion were the Wayne couple, Mrs. Kane and, of all people, her previously absent teacher Zatanna. The older witch was looking at her with concern but Traci could only let a bitter smile come to her lips, ‘ Oh great, you’re back now. Where were you when I needed you?’

They’d been surprised to find the witch at Wayne Manor, having come in search of Bobo’s occasional colleague Batman after the detective decided he needed some kind of assistance to deal with Traci’s situation. (Detective Chimp was on the incredibly short list of people who knew Bruce’s identity, not because they had been trusted with it, but because they had figured it out themselves. That said, the Magnificent Finder of Tasty Grubs had never abused that knowledge, and he and Bruce would occasionally consult one another on particularly tricky cases.)

Zee had explained that she’d just gotten back the previous night and been planning to contact Traci later that day to check in and let her know she was back on the mortal plane. The teen really wanted to believe that, but at the moment her faith in the adults in her life was at an all-time low.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” Mrs. Wayne suggested, kindly. Traci had a bit of trouble believing the elegant looking woman in front of her was apparently the ferocious Catwoman.

Bobo sipped the tea Alfred had provided him before saying, “hmm, an excellent brew from Mr. Pennyworth, as usual. Well, the tale by rights begins not with me, but with a deduction by my worthy assistant.”

He gestured over to Traci who took that as her cue to explain how she first realized her father might be in trouble after she’d gone two months without hearing from him. She started by explaining the note she’d found, and how the first several weeks she’d assumed it was just one of his typical long absences when he found an interesting case.

“He left you alone for over a week!?” Zatanna basically shouted, partially rising to her feet before seizing a hold of herself and sitting back down, seething. 

Traci, a bit surprised by the outburst said, “well yeah? It’s not the first time he dashed off without warning for a week or two. I only suspected something was wrong after a month and a half had passed without a check in.” Was that so strange?

Zee muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “unfit” before forcing herself to calm down. Mr. Wayne stepped in at that moment and asked, “so, realizing Dr. Thirteen was likely missing you contacted Bobo, I’m assuming?”

“Indeed, she did,” Detective Chimp answered, picking up the story. “I have worked with Terrance on occasion, though not much of late. In any event, a cursory examination of the facts as they were presented indicated he had likely gotten in over his head with an investigation and I took up the case.”

Bobo then proceeded to outline the initial investigation, the journey with Traci to Louisiana, and the canvassing of locals to try and establish a timeline. Finally, he arrived at the moment they decided they needed to examine the house at the center of the mystery themselves, and with occasional comments from Traci, explained what had occurred within.

Flashback: A Few Weeks Ago, Louisiana Bayou

A half hour after the sun had set over the bayou, the odd couple of Traci Thirteen and Detective Chimp set out from the budget motel they were staying in for the house at the heart of their mystery. One uber ride and a ten-minute walk down a back pathway and they stepped onto the property where Terrance Thirteen was last seen. 

The Old Ellery Place, as it was still known to the locals despite having changed hands several times since the former plantation home was built, sat imposingly atop the highest point of the property, a four-story structure that must have looked quite magnificent once, before it fell into its current dilapidated state. The creepy vibes it gave off were only increased by the swamp having reclaimed most of the surrounding area over the years, making the derelict old building seem to spring out of the underbrush when they turned the corner of the winding dirt path that was the only way to the home.

“Hmm,” Bobo hummed to himself as they neared the abandoned structure. The only light came from the electric lantern he carried and the small amount of moonbeams filtering down. He’d have preferred to investigate by day but, technically, they were breaking and entering here since the local constabulary didn’t seem particularly keen on assisting in this matter. 

Traci swatted a mosquito away and wished for the hundredth time since she’d come to Louisiana that she’d gotten Zee to teach her a bug repellent spell before she left on her cross-dimensional trek. ‘ Actually, I wish she were here to cast it herself.’ Detective Chimp had been very helpful, but she’d feel a lot more at ease if her teacher was by her side as they stepped up to the haunted house.

The floorboards of the porch creaked ominously as they stepped up to the padlocked front door. Traci started to cast her unlocking spell when she saw Bobo clamber up through a nearby broken window like the ape he was. Moments later the window slid up, making an entrance large enough for Traci to slip through, and she followed the beckoning chimpanzee paw inside.

“Well, we know for sure at least three people have been in here recently,” Detective Chimp observed as Traci stepped in behind him. They were in the foyer of the place, in front a grand staircase going up to the second floor and at the junction of three different hallways leading further in, visible by the flickering electric blue light of Bobo’s lantern.

“How do you know?” Traci asked.

Detective Chimp pointed at the ground beyond them, “observe the dust. There are clear footprints that have not had a chance to be covered, and I discern at least three distinct foot shapes. Though, given the level of dust, one of them was here some time before the other two.”

Traci held the lantern while Bobo examined each of the footprint types under his magnifying glass. All the while, the building creaked and groaned in a way that made her uneasy. She didn’t think she sensed any kind of spirit hanging around, but she wasn’t entirely sure she would. ‘ When Zee’s back and we find dad, I’m totally using this fiasco to leverage consistent lessons with her out of him.’ The limits of her magical know-how were becoming painfully apparent to her.

“Well, the most common prints match with the loafers Terrance favors,” Bobo mused. “They also seem to go all over the house if the entry way is any guide. Meanwhile, the oldest pair look to be quite old-fashioned and stay on the ground floor. Finally, there are the sneakers, which only go that way.” He pointed down the central hallway, moving directly back into the house. 

After some deliberation, the detective elected to follow Terrance’s path upstairs before examining the rest of the ground floor. What followed was close to an hour of the pair slowly making their way through the upper floors, which were creepy as hell to Traci, but offered no clues as to what had occurred to her father.

His footsteps went everywhere, into nearly every room, but following their path yielded nothing but more questions. They found some of his equipment set up in what must have once been a nursery, a spectrometer, but no signs of foul play. It looked to have been intentionally set up there, rather than dropped. The dust covered cradle and abandoned porcelain dolls sitting in the corner gave Traci the heebie jeebies, but there was nothing obviously supernatural.

After they finished their upstairs examination with an attic that seemed to have become nothing more than a home for a colony of bats, they started descending the stairs again while Bobo scratched his chin. Traci, beginning to get quite worried they’d found no sign of what happened to her father, muttered “this might be a dead end.”

“Worry not, my dear Traci,” Detective Chimp rejoined. “I truthfully did not expect to find much on these floors, given the evidence, but it helps to have a full picture of the thing.” Indeed, in the chimpanzee’s fabulous mind, myriad little clues were adding up to give him a fairly good idea of what Terrance had been up to in the days leading up to his disappearance.

Terry was always methodical, and based on what he’d seen, it looked like the man had worked the building from the top down, taking scientific measurements and going over the place with a fine-tooth comb. Terrance was never the kind of detective who could pull two random facts together to make a brilliant deduction, but he was a top tier collector of evidence due to his thoroughness. 

As they started exploring the ground floor, Bobo found his suspicions steadily confirmed. The oldest set of footprints wandered around the floor before descending into the basement, while the sneaker prints made a beeline straight from the front door to the basement stairs, and both tracks were joined by Terry’s eventually. Walking in front of the girl, he made his way down the stairs, into the dark.

What he found was a dingy cellar, seemingly emptied of all the casks and bottles that may have once been kept there many years ago. It was a slate-grey stone brick room full of empty racks, and most intriguingly, all three sets of footprints terminated at the far wall, with only the oldest set doubling back to go back up the stairs.

Bobo examined the brick wall closely, tapping on various spots and trying to find a hidden switch or a hollow panel. Eventually he hopped back and frowned before turning to Traci, “I think at this point I will need to lean on your area of expertise. I am 90% sure there is a hidden door here, but I cannot find a conventional means of opening it. Perhaps your magic will fare better.”

The young witch gulped and tried not to let it show on her face how uncertain of her own magical ability she was. Really, she may have oversold how trained she was when she was convincing Detective Chimp to let her come with him. She may not have had nearly as many lessons with Zatanna as she should have, but she’d do her best with what little she did not.

Stepping forward she drew a symbol in the air and uttered the word “Laever!” While superficially the style of magic she’d been taught involved simply saying the words of what one wanted to happen backwards, that was far from all it was. The backwards word was more of a mental focus for shaping her magic, and she couldn’t just learn spells with a mirror and a dictionary. The spell she cast was basically the only one she thought might help in this situation, a simple divination to reveal latent magical auras.

She braced herself for failure, but was amazed when one of the bricks, which Bobo had previously passed over, glowed a bright orange. Not really stopping to think, she reached out to touch it with her palm, discovering it was warm in a way the surrounding masonry wasn’t. There was a shuddering of the surrounding architecture and she felt the brick tug slightly on her magic, before the seemingly solid wall somehow started to slide out of the way.

Traci’s brief moment of elation at having successfully opened the hidden door was doused almost immediately by the sight in front of her. It looked like some kind of ancient tribal ceremony chamber about 10 meters in diameter, with hieroglyphics criss-crossing the wall in a decidedly pre-colonial style. However, none of that was what immediately grabbed her attention.

The ground of the chamber had a magic binding circle drawn in what looked like blood upon it, which glowed with an eerie pinkish light. In the center of the circle, floating above the ground in a meditative position, was the hero Dr. Fate, and behind him on the ground was a blanket covered shape, roughly the size of a human body. The unmoving lump made Traci’s heart leap into her throat. ‘ Dad…”

Traci knew next to nothing about summoning and binding, but Zee had warned her extensively against messing with binding circles if she came across them. She started to wonder how Fate, the world’s premier magical hero, had gotten caught in one when the helmeted figure spoke.

“ Traci Lan Thirteen,” Dr. Fate spoke in his booming double voice, blending the speech of the helmet with the wearer, “ Your arrival is fortuitous. I have been trapped here by a vampiric agent of an otherworldly threat, and it is imperative I am freed. Break the Circle of Tannarak so I may return to defending this realm.”

“Is he okay!?” Traci blurted, her focus entirely on the prone figure. Dr. Fate might be okay after being trapped in a small little circle for weeks, but her father was very human and needed food, water and so on.

“ His condition is stable,” Fate explained, his tone firm, and if she didn’t know any better, slightly impatient. “ I placed him under a stasis spell. Now, break the Circle.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Traci agreed, calming down. She didn’t know Dr. Fate personally, but he was one of the good guys, pretty much THE big good guy as far as magic went. Zatanna had talked about him on occasion; under the helmet he was a 102-year-old guy called Kent Nelson, but you’d never know it when he was in his powerful Dr. Fate form.  

Detective Chimp hopped over to snap a piece of wood off one of the empty wine racks and handed it to her. She gulped; theoretically all she needed to do was physically scratch out some of the circle’s runes, but she was still naturally nervous, messing with something that could hold a Lord of Order.

Leaning forward, while being careful not to step into the circle itself, she scratched at one of the painted runes until there was a hissing followed by a SNAP, as the magic broke. A green cylinder of swirling energy flowing up from the circle flickered into view for a moment before it exploded outward, blasting over Traci and Bobo like a heavy mist pushed by a sudden wind, making them momentarily hold their hands over their faces.

Traci opened her eyes to see Dr. Fate standing there in all his glory, golden and glowing, but she was already rushing past him to check on her father. She reached the frozen figure on the ground and threw back the sheet covering him, only to discover ‘ that’s not my father.’ The familiar, perpetually irritated, face of Terrance Thirteen wasn’t looking back at her, instead she found only a very old white-haired man she was fairly certain was dead. He wasn’t decaying, but his eyes looked lifeless.

She whipped around to demand answers of Fate. “Where’s my dad?”

Detective Chimp investigated the old man’s body, “and who are you, Dr. Fate, since this is Kent Nelson?”

Fate turned to them, still floating slightly off the ground in an imposing fashion. “ Kent Nelson’s life was at its end. When he and I were surprised by this trap, his heart gave out before he could don the Helmet. It fell to me to take up the mantle. I placed him in stasis so that he might be preserved for burial as gratitude for his service.”

“Dad?” Traci asked in disbelief. Her magic hating dad was now the most powerful magical hero in their dimension and it was kind of breaking her brain.

“ Once,” Dr. Fate acknowledged, “ but now I am so much more. I am Fate.”

“Okay, wow,” Traci replied, “that’s kind of awesome.” This could be fantastic; maybe now her dad would stop hating magic and this could even be something they could bond over! “So, can you like teleport us home now, or do you want to just take the helmet off and we’ll drive back. Oh!” She gestured over to Detective Chimp, “Bobo was a huge help in finding you and he’s been looking out for me!” She really owed a major debt to the primate and hoped her father wouldn’t be too proud to thank him for helping to mount the rescue.

If he were a human he might have blushed, but instead Detective Chimp just fiddled with his hat and said self-deprecatingly, “it’s only proper to do right by a colleague. You have a very bright daughter Terry and she was a most able assistant to me in this investigation. You should be proud.”

“I am not returning to Coast City,’ Terrance boomed in the voice of Fate, “ nor will I doff the Helmet. That would leave me vulnerable in a way I cannot afford while this conspiracy I have discovered remains unvanquished.”

“What do you mean you’re not coming back!?” Traci demanded, anger mixing with confusion. She’d been left alone for months, worried sick that her father had gotten himself killed, hunted him across the country to rescue him, and now he was refusing to return?

“Traci,” Fate sternly replied in a tone she instantly recognized as her father’s all too common disapproval even through the Helmet’s double voice. “ My new duties are far more important than your trivial concerns. My consciousness has expanded more than your childish mind could ever have imagined, and it has given me the perspective to understand I have been held back.” He did not go so far as to say it but it was clear as day that it was Traci who was holding him back from greatness. “I must return to the Tower of Fate and begin to mount a defense against the chaos I fear threatens to engulf this world. You will simply have to take care of yourself for once.”

“ No,” Traci said flatly. “You’re going to take that Helmet off and come home with me. We can contact Zatanna, or the Justice League to figure out what needs to be done and who should be Fate, but I need you.” She was bristling with emotion but her tone was firm and defiant. She asked for so little from her father, and her patience had finally run out. 

“This is not up for discussion. The world needs Dr. Fate to-”

“I said, no!” Traci shouted, her hands balling into fists. “This isn’t about a magical conspiracy or fighting the Lords of Chaos and you know it! You’re just using that as an excuse to abandon your daughter, again! If you love me, you won’t do this. ”

Dr. Fate gestured with his left hand and a glowing Ankh shaped doorway leading to the Tower of Fate’s pocket dimension shimmered into existence. He turned half back “ I had hoped you’d be more mature and respectful than this. I have always done my duty to you, and you must show me the proper filial piety. Leave this place and see to Terrance’s earthly affairs and-“

“ Seniv tnod tel mih og!” Traci cried, flaring her magic dangerously and using a restraining spell she only kind of knew. The roots of the plants above suddenly grew and shifted, blasting their way into the cellar and smashing through stonework without a care for structural integrity. The whole house above started to shake as the foundation was rocked by enchanted botanical matter, all of it lunging to seize Dr. Fate.

The Lord of Order made a sign with either hand and golden light blasted from them disintegrating and obliterating the roots before they could so much as touch him. With another gesture the walls around them glowed gold and began to repair themselves. “ I am disappointed in you, witchling. Then again, you have no understanding of true power. Still, unskilled as you are, I cannot have you impeding my purpose. I will place you under stasis for a time; when you awake, see to the remains of Kent Nelson.”

There was a shimmer of light and Bobo and a distraught Traci would stand as statues in that basement for weeks, dust slowly accumulating on their frozen forms. If anyone had snuck into the old, haunted house, they would have found a girl in anguish, the tears welling in her eyes stopped from falling until it was far too late. 

End Flashback

Bobo took a puff of his pipe as he finished their tale. “We came to a few days ago after the stasis spell wore off. Terrance’s trail had gone rather cold by then. I determined with the new complications you might be the more suitable detective to continue this case.” Bobo might be a rival to Bruce and Kate as an investigator, but the chimpanzee wasn’t any kind of fighter. Considering the new helmeted Terrance was incredibly powerful and at least somewhat hostile, it seemed like the time to outsource.

“Yeah, and it only took two days on a Greyhound to get here,” Traci added humorlessly. The bus had been the economical option, but all those hours squeezed into a bumpy seat had just given the girl more time to brood over the fact her father would rather galavant off to chase another mystery than raise her. Her grief had crystallized into bone deep anger. She felt like a fool in more ways than one and very, very alone. ‘ He never cared; she doesn’t care. You aren’t worth it to care.’

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Batcave, Hours Later

After some amount of haranguing, Traci had been convinced to take a guest room and get some rest. Selina was upstairs filling the rest of the family in on the situation, including the newly awoken Marinette and Chloe. Meanwhile, Bruce, Kate, and a very tired Zatanna discussed the wider implications of the unsettling news Traci and Bobo had brought with them. The Simian Detective had taken an offer of a flight back to his Florida home, keen to rest and recuperate now that he was assured both Traci and the case were in good hands. 

Kate, in her Batwoman costume but with her cowl down, turned back from the Batcomputer. “It looks like the Thirteen’s landlord started the paperwork to evict them after a series of missed payments. I’ve had my real estate guy buy the building from him so we don’t have to worry about Traci’s things getting tossed. As for what happened down south, the parish really needs to modernize its digital records, but it does look like there’s a death certificate for Kent Nelson that’s been filed in Louisiana. I’ve let the Justice Society know so they can claim the body and see to his affairs.” While their focus was on Traci and whatever the new Fate was up to, it was worth remembering that a long-time hero had passed away.

Zatanna nodded, “I don’t think he had any living relatives, at least that I knew of, so that’s probably best.”

“It also helps corroborate their story,” Bruce observed, before holding up a hand to forestall a protest form Zatanna, “not that I was necessarily doubting Traci and Bobo’s account. I’m just aware of the possibility of illusions whenever magic is involved.”

“Speaking of magic, it sounds like the League just lost one of its two magic experts,” Kate cut in. “Considering Dr. Fate hasn’t made contact in the weeks since Traci and Bobo freed him, I doubt he’s looking to pick up where Nelson left off. Either that or Nabu has enough awareness to know we’d object to him keeping a hostage for a host.”

Batman’s frown deepened, “I’ve worked with Nabu. He’s high handed but taking a host hostage seems out of character for him. He seemed content with the voluntary arrangement he had with Nelson; why not find another willing bearer of the Helmet?”

“You’ve worked with Fate,” Zatanna corrected, “not Nelson, not Nabu, Fate. The Doctor is a fusion of the Lord of Order and the Wearer of the Helmet, not truly either one.”

Kate looked up from the monitor, “so you’re saying it’s Terrance who wants to stay Fate right now?”

Zatanna shook her head, “I’m saying there is no Terrance right now, just like there’s no Nabu, just Fate, a singular being for the moment. Dr. Fate isn’t Nabu possessing someone, and it isn’t someone just wielding Nabu’s power, he’s an equal fusion of both entities. Bearers of the Helmet are supposed to train their wills and magic before putting on the helmet to handle the fusing, but that obviously didn’t happen here.”

Zee sighed and flipped her hat in her hands. Her best guess was that Terrance’s arrogance and self-importance were affecting this new version of Dr. Fate, making him unwilling to relinquish control or power. ‘ Also… ’ Zatanna was no psychiatrist and couldn’t know what was going on in his head, but she’d always wondered if some of Dr. Thirteen’s dislike of the supernatural sprung from a hidden jealousy towards those who could touch magic, magic he finally had wearing the helmet. It would certainly explain certain things, including some of the poison that pervaded his relationship with his daughter, and her mother before her. ‘ Perhaps if he was a little less obsessed with the power, he could take the helmet on and off like Nelson did.’

“So, essentially we’ve got an unknown quantity operating as the most powerful magic user on Earth, with no way to track him, or know what he’s planning,” Kate concluded grimly. It was brutally pragmatic, but she had to think about the situation in terms of the larger threat it could represent.

“And we have no plan to separate the Helmet from Thirteen,” Bruce added darkly. He had a contingency against Dr. Fate hidden in the Batcomputer, but it relied on taking advantage of Kent Nelson’s extremely advanced age. Moreover, he didn’t know if the Helmet would be easily removable even if they could disable or render Terrance unconscious.

“Yeah, that’s about the size of the catastrophe,” Zee agreed, “plus the distraught girl who’s essentially been orphaned.”

Kate ran a hand through her hair, “she can stay with Diana and-“

“I’m taking her in,” Zatanna said simply.

Bruce cocked an eyebrow, “are you sure? You’re already in the process of adopting Amaya.”

Zee nodded, “they’re both my kids. You two understand.” She shared a significant look with the cousins who both nodded in agreement. You’d be hard pressed to find two people who better understood the need to take in children who needed a home, regardless of how inconvenient the timing might be.

Bruce cracked his neck, “I’ll get the paperwork started back up again.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

(Formerly Gotham) Sirens Chat:

HOUDINI-I: BY THE HOARY HOSTS OF HOGGARTH, I have a fucking kid. I have two fucking kids. Fuck. How am I supposed to do this?

NOT THE MOTORCYCLE: First thing, take a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Repeat that slowly until you feel yourself relax.

MRS FLASH: Nobody feels ready to be a parent until it happens. You’ve got this, Zee, and we’ll be there to help you. Just remember to be patient, with them and with yourself.

MAMA CAT: I have a small mountain of parenting books at the Manor you’re welcome to borrow. I’m not saying you need them, but it can help your confidence to have that resource; it certainly did for me and Bruce. 

PHD, BITCHES: Remember to let them go at their own pace. I know it's not the same situation, since Andre and Terrance aren’t unrepentant murders, but Rosie had a lot of trouble early on allowing herself to accept her new family, since she technically had another parent out there.

MAMA CAT: If Traci would like, Duke has volunteered to talk with her. He knows what it's like to have your parent technically be alive but unable to care for you. Maybe having someone in a similar situation could help her.

SUPERMOM: With Chloe, I think it’s important to help her keep a connection to her roots. Show her that embracing her current life doesn’t mean she has to let go of her ancestral culture. 

THE BETTER BAT: Are you talking about France, or Gemworld?

SUPERMOM: Both! I don’t know if there are any Gemworld traditions you could celebrate, but it would probably mean a lot to her.

NOT THE MOTORCYCLE: LADIES! I’m sure Zatanna appreciates all the advice, and would probably like more later, but she’s freaking out. Let’s not overload her.

HOUDINI-I: No, no, I need all the help I can get. Like, I’m all in on this, but I didn’t have a chance to prepare at all. Hell, I don’t even have my house set back up in Gotham. I need to make sure the Powers job is still there, I need to get them signed up for school, I need to figure out if they’ve had all their shots, I have no clue how if Bobo knows how to appropriately feed a human teenager, Chloe needs a therapist after what she went through, Actually so does Traci, my phone exploded with a hundred requested magic consults from the League, they’re both going to need new wardrobes, and school supplies, and stuff for their rooms, I need to get them cell phones so they can contact me, Chloe’s will need international calling, Traci is obviously hurting so much and I don’t know how to help her, Chloe basically started making out with Selina’s kid the second she got back to earth and I guess I need to give her the birds and the bees talk sooner rather than later, oh and Christmas is tomorrow and I need to get presents. I don’t know where to start.

NOT THE MOTORCYCLE: Take it one step at a time, Zee, and rely on your friends to help. Today just get your fancy magic mansion set up and call the Casino people to set up a meeting. Other than that, just be there for both kids today. I’ll get you a list of child therapists, but that can wait a little while. 

THE BETTER BAT: They’ll want something of their own soon enough, but in the near term, Diana can bring over some of Bette and Sandra’s old clothes for them to wear.

MRS FLASH: With the amount of money Selina and Bruce have dumped on Gotham Academy, I’m sure they can help secure slots for Traci and Chloe. 

PHD, BITCHES: I’ll consult with Dr. Thompkins and get their medical records so we can see what immunizations they might need. Given her age, I think it’s highly likely Chloe has already been told the facts of life but I can help you with it if she needs the conversation. We still have Harl’s conspiracy notes from preparing to give it to Rose.

NOT THE MOTORCYCLE: They were NOT conspiracy notes. I just wanted to be well prepared.

MAMA CAT: Sorry, I was texting the Headmistress of G-A to let her know they’ll have two new students next semester. Anything you need, Zee, we’re more than happy to help. 

XENA: Verily, you are our sister and we will not abandon you. I’ll bring the garments over after I return to Gotham.

SUPERMOM: I like how you can always tell when Diana’s been back to visit Themyscira since her vocabulary temporarily gets more archaic. It’s cute.

THE BETTER BAT: Cute? Bitch, my wife is adorable. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Paris, France, Late December

(All Dialogue in French unless otherwise stated)

Nino wandered down the street, feeling somewhat melancholy despite the season. He was on his way to the park to meet some friends, but he’d chosen to take a somewhat meandering route, giving himself sometime to sort through his thoughts.

The last two and a half months or so had been an interesting time for the 15-year-old. He’d started high school, he’d been getting more gigs as a DJ, and, in a world without constant Akuma attacks, everything seemed to have calmed down. However, the biggest change had been the disappearance of Lila Rossi from their school, and seemingly from Paris.

His girlfriend’s best friend had apparently caught some disease Nino had never heard of and been unable to find when he tried to look it up. She was gone for some sort of extended treatment, and only after she’d been gone for a few days did Nino realize the weight on his mind her constant presence had been for the past two years.

She just dominated the social scene at his new school, just as she had at their old one, so much that everything felt different with her suddenly gone. Even his buddy Adrien seemed to be getting back to his old self without his girlfriend around, albeit still subdued as he’d been since his father’s arrest. 

Of course, Nino had already turned against Lila some time ago as clear evidence of her habitual lying piled up. He kept quiet about this minority opinion, but had distanced himself from the Italian girl as much as was reasonable considering his relationship with Alya, who had no such inclination. 

It was his relationship with Alya, and namely, the question of whether to continue it, that dominated his thoughts as he passed a newsstand hawking yet another headline regarding the ongoing Bourgeois financial scandal. 

He still liked Alya, maybe even loved her, but what happened with Marinette and Lila’s ongoing influence just felt like a wedge driving them increasingly apart. He’d hoped, now that Lila wasn’t in constant contact, Alya might gain some perspective but the results had been mixed.

In the day to day, he kind of felt like he had his old girlfriend back, as they could go days without the uncomfortable topic of their disagreement over Lila coming up, but when it did, it was clear Alya still hadn’t changed her mind. He didn’t know if it was sunk cost, or something else, but either way it was disheartening. ‘ I get from her perspective she’s just being loyal to a friend, but still…’

“Oi, Nino!”

As he arrived at the park, Nino looked over to see Alix calling out to him and waving him over. She was near the fountain along with the perpetually nervous looking Juleka and Sabrina. The four of them had always been friendly, but in the months since Lila got Marinette tossed out of their old school, they’d sort of bonded as the members of their class who were the least credulous towards Lila. He only still had classes with Sabrina, but they all tried to still meet up semi-regularly.

Even after all this time, it still felt odd to see Sabrina without Chloe close at hand. When they’d all started at Francois Dupont, the pair had been basically inseparable. ‘ I wonder if she knows where Chloe went?’ Nino thought but didn’t ask aloud. He didn’t want to pry and figured Chloe had probably just gone to the US to live with her mother and half-sister in Metropolis when it became clear her father’s house of cards was crumbling.

“I like your haircut, Juleka,” he complimented his shy friend who smiled tentatively in return. The girl still had a purple strand but had changed for a much shorter haircut closer to Alix’s length. Well, it was close to Alix’s old length, but the other girl who took a seat beside Juleka on the grass had actually started growing hers out a bit since last year. Funnily enough, the pair really seemed to have gotten closer and Nino half expected they might eventually get together, considering Juleka and Rose had broken up over the summer.

They spent the next several minutes just chatting and catching up. After the chaos of the Akuma year, life had gone back mostly to normal, and the quartet all frankly felt a little odd to have gone back to being more concerned about their grades than dodging monsters. There had only been two incidents in the city since Hawkmoth’s defeat that you could call supercrime and both had been handled without too much trouble by Bugboy and a visiting hero, first Green Lantern and then Booster Gold.

“I dunno,” Juleka said quietly, “I think Blue Snowman was scarier than the akumas. She felt more real.”

“That’s because she knew what she was doing,” Sabrina opined, while Alix agreed with a nod. “Akumas were scary, but you always knew it was Hawkmoth making them into villains. Blue Snowman was just a criminal who decided to rob the Louvre all on her own.” As the daughter of a Paris Police captain, the bespectacled girl had firm feelings on law and order.

“Still, it was totally awesome how Bugboy and GL took them down!” Alix interjected. “He was all like FWOOSH with his yo-yo and then that green cage was all CLANG!” 

Nino chuckled and the conversation moved on to lighter topics. Eventually though, as it tended to when it was just the four of them, the topic shifted to the lying elephant in the room. “I just don’t get why she still believes her,” Nino exasperatedly admitted. “Alya’s not an idiot and she’s seen evidence contrary to Lila’s stories, but she never budges.”

“That’s probably because Lila always changes her narrative to fit new developments,” Sabrina said glumly, “remember when she went from being best friends with one of Bruce Wayne’s kids to having been cut off and abandoned by her when Marinette showed up in Gotham?”

“I still can’t believe Mari is some American billionaire’s daughter,” Juleka muttered before panickily adding, “I mean, I believe it’s true, there’s lots of evidence online. I just mean it’s weird that this girl we knew for so long had that kind of hidden past.” Juleka had long wondered about the identity of her own father, and whether her mother’s caginess on the subject was due to him also being some kind of public figure. 

Nino hesitantly asked, “has anyone reached out or heard from Marinette?” He still felt awful about what happened with his old friend. He’d tried reaching out on a messaging app, as he didn’t have her new American cell number, but it was left on read and pretty shortly thereafter all of Mari’s old web accounts vanished. He understood why she might not have any desire to maintain a connection with her old classmates who hadn’t stood by her or believed in her, but he still missed that old bond.

Juleka and Sabrina shook their heads but Alix surprisingly said, “kind of?” All attention turned towards the girl and she explained, “I haven’t actually talked to her or anything but you remember that pen pal program we all did a few years ago? I actually kept up with mine and she lives in Gotham.”

“And she knows Mari?” Juleka asked.

Alix shook her head, “no, uh, it’s a massive city and my friend Chelsea’s not like uber wealthy, so she doesn’t go to the same school as the Waynes or anything, but apparently, she knows the oldest Wayne kid. He’s her math teacher.”

“Wait, should Bruce Wayne’s kids be like, I dunno, race car drivers or something?” Nino asked.

Juleka tilted her head, “why would they be race car drivers. Bruce Wayne isn’t a racer.”

Nino threw his hands out, “cause they’re rich! And rich people’s kids get to do stuff like that, not teach public school.”

“Aaaanyway,” Alix cut in, “Mr. Grayson-Wayne doesn’t talk about his family that much with his students but he did apparently brag about his new sister, and I realized that must be Marinette. So, I guess at the very least her new family seems excited that she’s there.”

“Or they want to appear to be so publicly at least,” Sabrina muttered.

Nino furrowed his brow in thought before finally saying, “hey Alix, can you give me your friend’s address? I think I’m going to have a letter I want to see if she’ll pass along.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Shadowcrest, Gotham, Mid-Afternoon, Christmas Eve

Chloe reminded herself for the ninth time that day that her new home wasn’t haunted, just magical, when she heard the door shut behind her. She’d just stepped into what she could only describe as some sort of fortune telling room, full of glass orbs of various sizes, a brazier for burning bones, and other foretelling apparatuses, much of it covered in a thin layer of dust. The last quality was one shared by many of the other rooms in the magical mansion as apparently Zee hadn’t bothered setting it up in some time and even when she’d last lived in her ancestral home, hadn’t used much of the space by her lonesome. 

The newest bearer of the Zatara name, a fact she still couldn’t totally get her head around, had decided to spend the afternoon exploring the place she’d be living for the foreseeable future. The previous day had been a combination of handling various necessities and technicalities involved in their reintegration to earthly life and managing the crisis that was Traci Thirteen and a talking chimpanzee suddenly showing up, so today was the first they’d really had to settle in.

Shadowcrest was certainly a mansion, though not as big as the utterly sprawling manor Marinette was living in. It was more compact, roughly the size of one of stately Wayne Manor’s wings, but it was also seven stories tall so there was really still way too much space for three of them. Built from dark grey stone with burnished red slate roofs, it had an external architecture more in line with a castle than a modern mansion, including a tower on the western side. However, as she poked around the spacious interior, there were plenty of modern amenities like electric lighting and a gas stove, right alongside the more esoteric mystical rooms.

Marinette had offered to spend the day with her again, but Chloe had insisted the other girl not skip out on Christmas Eve just for Amaya. She was also keen to spend as much time with the girl she’d spent a year missing, as possible, but now that they were back together, they’d have plenty of time to spend with one another. This was Marinette’s first holiday with her new family, and Chloe refused to let her girlfriend not enjoy whatever traditions the Waynes had. 

‘ Actually, I have no clue if Zee has anything special, she does for Christmas,’ Chloe realized as she slipped out of the room and started down one of the many sets of staircases she had yet to properly map out. Her mentor turned adoptive mother was down in Gotham proper at the moment, negotiating the terms of her residency at the Powers Casino, leaving Chloe and Traci temporarily alone at Shadowcrest.

‘ Right, Traci’, Chloe thought with a pout. She hadn’t seen much of the other girl since breakfast, during which Traci hadn’t said anything other than a few monosyllabic answers to Zatanna’s questions. The young witch had basically shut herself up in her new room all day, and Chloe didn’t think it was because she was decorating it.

Stopping in the den, Chloe paused in front of the fireplace where a fire burned merrily despite having no wood to fuel it. Above the mantelpiece was an ornate oil painting of a patrician looking man with neatly combed jet-black hair and a curled mustache. He wore an old-fashioned tuxedo suit complete with tails, a top hat and a bowtie. She knew from the brief tour Zatanna had given them the previous night that this was Giovanni Zatara, her deceased father, and Chloe couldn’t help but feel the man was looking down at her from the picture frame.

Her mind wandered back to Traci. Chloe felt an immense amount of sympathy for the girl, but didn’t know what she could do to help. (It was a mark of the purple haired girl’s growth and the increasing confidence she felt with Zatanna that the sudden arrival of another girl taking part of the woman’s attention hadn’t sent her spiraling into insecurity.) Eventually she settled on trying to do what Zatanna had done for her after Opal and just offer herself up as someone who would listen.

Decision made, she set off for the third floor, where her new room, Traci’s and Zatanna’s were all on the same hallway. She still hadn’t gotten a new earthly wardrobe beyond some hastily bought underwear, so she was wearing a black tank top, sweats, and a pair of sneakers Marinette’s cousin had leant to her. The sneakers squeaked a bit against the ancient floorboards as she approached Traci’s door and gave it a quick knock.

“Go away, Zatanna” Traci called through the door, sounding utterly miserable.

Chloe paused before saying, “Uh, it’s Chloe actually.”

There was a shuffling and then the door was yanked open to reveal a rough looking Traci, her hair a mess and her eyes red, wearing a plain white tee and black bike shorts. She gave Chloe a venomous look and demanded, “what do you want?”

Not entirely sure of herself but determined to try, Chloe said “I just wanted to uh talk a little bit? I mean, we’re going to be living together so I was hoping we could get to know one another.”

Traci crossed her arms and scoffed, “why bother getting to know me? I’m old news, used goods.”

Chloe tilted her head, feeling she was missing something. She decided to try and start again, “Well, I really would like to get to know you. Zee talked about a lot while we were in Gemworld and-“

“You don’t have to lie,” Traci cut in bitterly. She gestured towards Chloe, “she has a shiny new apprentice now, she doesn’t need me.”

Chloe put her hands on her hips and argued, “you know that’s not true. I mean, she’s taking you in just like she-“

“She’s only doing that because it’s what’s expected,” Traci countered, her voice rising. “She doesn’t care, not really. Maybe she used to but not anymore. Congratulations, princess, the Helmet of Fate stole my father, and you stole my master at the same time!”

Traci felt bad the instant she said it. She knew it wasn’t even true; she was just so angry that she’d snapped and thrown it in the direction of a girl who was just trying to help. Truth was, she’d gone to sleep crying and woken up a mix of grief-stricken and pissed as hell. ‘ What the fuck, Traci? This kid got abducted into another dimension and lost her own family and you’re being a bitch to her? None of this is her fault.’

She fully expected Chloe to walk away, or hurl her own insult back at her, or even go complain to Zee, but the slightly younger girl took a different path.

“Gwak!” Traci squawked as Chloe suddenly hugged her tight. “What are you, why are you…”

“I get it,” Chloe said, not breaking the hug, “sometimes when you’re hurting you need to lash out. It’s okay.”

“No, shit, I’m so sorry Chloe that was really unfair-“ Traci tried to apologize, but the other girl just hugged her tighter.

“Look,” Chloe said when she eventually let go and stepped back, “I realize we don’t really know one another at all, but, well, I used to be someone I didn’t like very much. I said things I really regret and I hurt other people to try and make myself feel better. I’m not saying any of that was right, but I’m saying I get it and if you need someone to blow up at you can blow up at me.”

Traci chuckled wetly, “thanks, but you shouldn’t have to put up with that. You and Zee were just getting back to earth and getting settled and I forced myself into your lives. I’ll try to be less of a bother.” (The years of Terrance constantly making her feel like she was alternatively an annoyance or a burden had unfortunately been rather internalized by the young woman.)

Chloe put her hands back on her hips and stood defiantly, “I know it wasn’t what either of us expected, but guess what? It looks like we’re stuck together. You know Zee’s going to be the best guardian she can be for both of us, and I’m telling you I’m going to be the best sister I can be too!” Chloe had never been close with her supposed half-sister Zoe, partially from never actually living under the same roof and only meeting a handful of times, but she was going to be a better sister for Traci. She wasn’t going to let her fears of losing a parent’s attention and affection turn her into a jerk, not again. 

“I don’t know about sisters,” Traci mumbled, “but maybe friends?”

Chloe smirked and nodded, “it’s a start.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Actually Fun Leaguer’s Chat (Green Arrow, Hal Jordan, Hawkwoman, Plastic Man, Captain Marvel, Booster Gold, Fire, Ice, Jessica Cruz)

POWER OF ZEUS: Yipee! It’s Christmas Eve! I hope everyone gets what they want from Santa!!

FUTURE #1: Man, I respect the holiday cheer, Big Red, but I think we’re all a bit old for Santa to leave anything under our trees.

MRS. ICE: Speak for yourself, seu bobo. He’s leaving me a lovely Norwegian I plan to fully enjoy unwrapping.

MRS. FIRE: Bea, kjære, please stop bragging about our love life to our colleagues. I need to be able to look people in the eye around the moon base.

FLYBOY: Ugh, I wish I had someone to spend the holidays with. This is my first Christmas back on Earth since me and Carol split. Hey Ollie! Wanna hangout and drown our sorrows together? I have a case of Alberaanian Rum that’s literally burning a hole in my suitcase.

WILLIE TELL: Sorry, no can-do Hal. Don’t want to jinx it, but I reckon I’m on to a good thing lately, and me and my new pretty bird are spending the season by the fire with plenty of eggnog.

WINGS: Wow, Mr. Playboy’s gone on more than three dates with the same woman. You must be totally gaga for her. When do we get to meet her?

WILLIE TELL: Uh, whenever I figure out how to tell her I’m Green Arrow.

LITTLE LANTERN: Yeah, that’s always a tough conversation. I assume. Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve been single since before I got the ring. Damn that’s depressing.

MONKEY D: Ya gotta do it though. Otherwise all those times you have to run out for an emergency you can’t explain are gonna add up, Ollie.

FLYBOY: Nah, put it off as long as possible. Telling them always makes things complicated.

MRS. FIRE: And considering Plastic Man is married and Hal’s romantic history is somehow both a tragedy and a farce, I think you know whose advice to take. 

POWER OF ZEUS: The wisdom of Solomon does say honesty and communication are important with, uh, the babes.

WILLIE TELL: I’m going to tell her. Soon.

WILLIE TELL: Soonish

WILLIE TELL: Soon-ventually Look, I’m finally meeting her kid in a few weeks and I want to get past that before I pile on the whole vigilante thing.

WINGS: Yeah guys, let him finish one disaster before he starts another.

WILLIE TELL: Hey! I’ll have you know kids love me. 

MONKEY D: Suuuuurrreee.

FUTURE#1: Hey Hal! I’m free for that drink! What time were you thinking?

FLYBOY: Oh, that’s great Booster. I’ll, uh, get back to you.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gotham, Gotham Gazette Office, Christmas Eve

Vicky Vale was pissed, but you wouldn’t know it from her smiling face. The star reporter of the Gazette’s gossip filled society pages, a section of the paper that might be considered a bit tabloid adjacent but was one of the things propping up the old publication in the social media era, always looked professional and put together when she was on the job, whatever her feelings. Her long dark hair was held back in a high pony and she wore a low-cut orange top with a charcoal blazer and crisp slacks, a pair of prescriptionless red fashion specs balanced on the end of her surgically perfect nose. 

That said, the next time she saw her editor, Gary, she was going to tear him a new one for making her work on Christmas Eve. She might not have a family of her own to spend it with yet, but she’d gotten on the invite list for Darci Mason’s Xmas party and should be up in Metropolis at that moment partying with starlets and collecting dirt. 

It was fair to say Vicky straddled the line between respectable journalist and paparazzo. Her beat was largely the rich and influential of Gotham society, who weren’t celebrities per se¸ but had quite a bit of local notoriety. She occasionally wrote an article on more serious fare, but the goings on of Gotham’s elite were her bread and butter.

‘ And it’s the newest figure on the scene who’s making me miss my party,’ she grumbled internally even while she rose to warmly greet the subject of that night’s interview when he finally arrived at her office. Gordon Elliot was an undeniably handsome man with a roguish look and a disarming smile. His dark hair was neatly coiffed, and his face bore an uncanny resemblance to his older brother Tommy. 

That familial connection had just been confirmed the previous day by the Elliot lawyers, and Gordon was in the process of taking control of much of that dormant empire. The fact that a part of said empire included a significant ownership stake in the Gotham Gazette certainly made it beneficial for Vicky to stay on this particular interviewee’s good side. No doubt he was about to be embraced by the rest of Gotham high society, considering Samantha Vanaver had already publicly invited him to her Valentines Masquerade, and it was Vicky’s job to break his story. 

The discovery of a lost heir to one of Gotham’s founding families would have been big news in of itself, as evidenced by the minor circus over Marinette Wayne even with that particular family already having no shortage of new blood. For the Elliots, who had been reduced to one comatose man with pending criminal charges, the confirmation of Gordon as being an actual second son of the long-passed Roger Elliot dropped like a howitzer shell.

“It’s so good to finally meet you Mr. Elliot,” Vicki simpered. She’d gladly throw any of her subjects under the bus if it made for a good story, but by and large she discovered it paid to keep the Gotham upper crust sufficiently flattered so they wouldn’t cut off her access.

“Please, call me Gordon,” the young man replied easily as he took a seat across from her desk. He wore a dark brown blazer with elbow patches, a white oxford, tan slacks and moccasins, nice but not particularly flashy. He flashed a million-watt grin that yet again reminded Vicki of the man’s apparent brother as she began the interview.

When Tommy Elliot had been revealed to be the masked villain Hush, the shockwave that went through Gotham had been like an earthquake. It just hadn’t made any sense. With someone like the Penguin there had been initial surprise, but everyone kind of got it. The Cobblepots had always dabbled in the darker side of Gotham more than most families of their station, their legitimate fortune was teetering, and Oswald had been connected to various criminal misadventures for years before he went full supervillain. Tommy hadn’t been like that.

To all the world, Tommy Elliot had it all and was as respectable as they came. He was the last scion of a famous family, who, rather than live off his fortune, had chosen to become a surgeon, a Thomas Wayne for a new generation. He had a squeaky-clean record, he had no messy relationships, his wealth was unimpeachable. He had no reason to turn to crime. The fact that he’d been knocked comatose at the same time his identity had been revealed meant he couldn’t answer that question of why.

Of course, some of the paint on that perfect picture had peeled in the years since he managed to get himself stuck in the coma. Old rumors, and murky innuendos had come to light, much of it in a book Vicky had written herself. New doubt was cast on the circumstances of his parent’s deaths, particularly his mother’s considering Dr. Thomas Elliot had been the one to sign her death certificate alleging natural causes. 

Incidents from his schoolboy days of bullying and petty delinquency that had been covered up at the time were discovered, and of course there was the damning partial diary that had been found by police detailing the man’s deranged obsession with anyone he perceived as superior to himself, displaying a massive hidden inferiority complex.

In light of that, the hope that Gordon Elliot would be his brother without the hidden madness was a seductive one. He certainly seemed to have that familiar easy charm as Vicky quizzed him on where he’d been all these years. 

“Well, I didn’t know I was an Elliot, obviously,” Gordon explained, “and I don’t think my father ever knew about me either. Everything I’ve learned about him makes me think he would have come and gotten me, and it’s probably my biggest regret that I won’t get to know the man in the flesh, even if I feel him in my heart.”

It was a charitable description of Roger Elliot, but not one Vicky was going to press the young man on. “That’s so tragic,” Vicky agreed sympathetically, “could you tell our readers a bit about where you did grow up and how you discovered your true lineage?”

The prodigal Elliot chuckled self-deprecatingly, “it’s hardly a glamorous tale. My mother, Sarah, was just a waitress and gave me up for adoption and I was raised by a couple out in the country that have since passed away. They were fine, did alright by me I suppose but it was wonderful to find out about my real family. Blood is what matters after all. As for how I found out, I have to credit Trish Q, who was working on a book on my family. Trish apparently came across evidence of my father’s affair with my mother and then did some digging with the birth records. I got a knock on the door one morning and a bit of DNA testing and legal wrangling later, I found out who I was always meant to be.”

It was a surprisingly breezy explanation, but not a totally implausible one. ‘ At the end of the day, I suppose DNA doesn’t lie,’ Vicky mused. She made a mental note to hit up the Daily Planet and see if she could squeeze any more details out of their gossip reporter, who’d apparently uncovered this little surprise. She was a bit pissed that the Metropolis based gossip columnist had strayed onto Vicky’s turf, but not enough to burn a bridge when the story was this juicy. For the moment she moved on, “And we’re so glad to have an Elliot back in Gotham. I do have to ask, and I know this is likely a difficult subject, but how did you feel learning you were the half-brother of the notorious Hush?”

Gordon frowned, “it was strange to discover, that’s for sure, and I think there are still a lot of questions there. Tommy is my only living relative, so on the hopeful day he eventually wakes up, I’d like to learn his side of the story and get to know him. I mean, so much of the evidence against him came from these mysterious vigilantes and the GCPD, which has a long history of problems. Of course, if he was indeed guilty, I condemn violence in all its forms. That’s all I can really say on that subject for the moment.”

“Of course, of course,” Vicky agreed, jotting down notes, “then, on a happier note, can you tell me a little about your plans for the future now that the Elliot trust is being transferred to your control?”

Gordon beamed, “Well, I’ll be moving into the old family home once we can have it properly cleaned and after that I’d like to start honoring the Elliot traditions and that sort of thing. I’ve come into a tremendous windfall but it comes with an important legacy and I plan to live up to that.” He laughed, “for anything more specific I’ll need to talk to my business manager first!”