Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The trio raced through the darkened park, sweat and blood pumping as they advanced on the villain. Green grass became a milky blue under the blanket of the black sky. Nodding to each other, they slid into a thick large leaved bush just in front of a rambunctious cacophony.

Giggles and triumphant hoots rose from the fountain near the wrought iron gates of the park, heralding what looked like a ninja party. Night Ninja himself stood at the top of the fountain just out the way of the rushing water, cackling like a mad person. Clutched in his gloved hand was An Yu’s staff, its textured surface reflecting the moonlight. As Night Ninja twirled it in his fingers, it looked like a tease.

Ninjalinos bounced sporadically around the water piece, babbling nonsensically in their strange language. Flipping and back-hand springing, they circled the fountain in a chaotic cluster as Night Ninja observed their antics with glee.

Greg’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the scene from behind the safety of the green foliage. He felt the familiar twang of seeing injustice - An Yu was so kind, she didn’t deserve to have come running for the Masks when the ninjas stole her staff!

Connor clearly felt the same way. Greg could feel him shifting next to him, making the leaves of their bush rustle dangerously. If any of them knew anything about Connor, it was that he struggled to keep a cool head under these sorts of circumstances. Greg made a mental note to keep an eye on him in case his anger got the better of him.

As he turned back to watch Night Ninja continue with his stupid shenanigans, Amaya whispered, “What’s the plan, guys? We can’t let Night Ninja get away with this!”

“I don’t know, but we need to get that staff back…” Connor said angrily. The cat hero leaned further forward, glaring as if he could take out the ninjas with his stare alone.

Shaking his head, Greg peered closer at the scene. Night Ninja didn’t seem to be focussing on his surroundings, instead watching his Ninjalinos perform gymnastic feats the Masks could only dream of doing and then yelling at them if their form wasn’t perfect. As usual, Greg felt an uncomfortable pity for the poor Ninjalinos; their boss was a tough crowd.

“Hey, why doesn’t Catboy use his speed to swipe the staff while me and Owlette distract Night Ninja and the Ninjalinos?” He offered thoughtfully. It was the bare bones of a plan, but most of their actions ended up being improvisation anyway.

“Great idea, Gekko!” Connor grinned down at him. “Just tell Night Ninja his moves are awful. That should get them distracted.”

Greg nodded determinedly. From the way the bush was shaking, he inferred that on the other side of Connor, Amaya was agreeing too.

Thick, soggy dirt filled and mucked his fingers as he raked his nails through the soil, crouched on his tiptoes, ready to spring into a fight. Greg felt the others shift around as well before they all stilled, ready for Connor to count them down. He pressed his face closer to the ground, the natural stench of wet earth flooding his nostrils.

“Three…” Connor whispered, “Two…”

Greg tensed his shoulders in anticipation.

“One… let’s go!”

With a powerful leap, Greg launched himself from the bush, sprinting as soon as his legs hit the ground. His feet thudded rhythmically below as he ran, keeping his eyes locked on the fountain and trying not to get a stitch.
A blue blur bolted past him - Catboy. Another blur, this time deep red and high up at the top of his peripherals told him Owlette was almost directly above the villains, circling in the sky.

Greg skidded to a halt in front of a park bench, throwing up powered dirt over the seat. Connor and Amaya were already standing in front of Night Ninja, as the Ninjalinos gathered menacingly around them. There was nearly twelve in total, all of them threateningly raising their fingers.

Night Ninja himself stood relaxed and condescending at the top of the fountain. His blue eyes blinked lazily down at the trio as he span the bamboo staff with boastful ease. “So the PJ peckerheads have come to try and spoil my fun. Oh my, what shall I do?” He said sarcastically, pretending to think. The Ninjalinos cackled; Greg had a sudden vision of watching the Lion King, with Scar and the hyenas.

“Give us the staff, Night Ninja,” Amaya warned, summoning sharp red feathers to her hands with a flick of her wrists. “It isn’t yours!”

“I think you’ll find that I have it here, in my hands, so it is mine. Besides, what will you do, Birdbrain? Oh, and Kitty - don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking up on me.”

Greg’s breath caught in surprise. So did Connor’s, apparently, as he tripped backwards down the fountain. How did Night Ninja know? Connor was so quiet!
Their stunned silence was broken by the ninja himself bursting into laughter.

“Ha! You really need to try harder than that. Y’know, I think that might be a contender for the most pathetic attempt to stop me yet!” He twirled the staff in his hand again like a trophy as he doubled over in mocking giggles.

Suddenly, Greg felt little but very firm grips on his hands, yanking his arms behind his back until his wrists stung. He groaned. In his moment of hesitation, a Ninjalino had disarmed him. Amaya had the same tiny problems on her - two in fact, one on her arms and one pinning her wings. Only Connor had escaped, sidestepping out of the way.

“Ah well, two out of three is better than none. Ninjalino!” Night Ninja barked and pointed to a violet shape near the park gates, “Pin down Catboy! The rest of you - come with me.”

As the Ninjalinos holding the Masks stayed fast as per their leader ordered, Night Ninja and about eight or so of his followers flipped onto the park gates, An Yu’s staff with them.

Greg opened his mouth sucking in air to yell another plan to Amaya, when he noticed her brown eyes widening at Connor. He turned in confusion to see, with rage written on his face, Connor finish spitting out the commands for his Cat Stripes.

An arc of electric blue, fast as lightning, shot through the nighttime sky, striking into the group of ninjas on the gates. The mass sprang away in every direction as the stripe hit, burning the gate as the energy grounded.

Ninjalinos, once they had regained their bearings, babbled wildly in joy at escaping by their hairs, gesturing madly at the long singe mark down the metal poles. The din seemed a little strange to Greg, glad the Linos survived but wondering why their leader wasn’t bragging too.
That was, until he noticed Night Ninja himself standing frozen next to the fountain, staff all but forgotten and on the floor.

A look of pure horror was spread across his face.

Greg followed his gaze, his stomach dropping with every centimetre he turned. Even the Ninjalinos quietened nervously as they realised Night Ninja wasn’t joining in, and as they looked, some shrieked whilst others just stood as motionless as their leader.

Balanced just enough not to fall off the gate, was a swaying Ninjalino. There was a welt; a huge, jagged slice running down from the shoulder to the thigh. The wound was thick and deep, the skin and purple suit around it burned black and charred from the hit. Red blood gushed out as unstoppable as a hideous scarlet waterfall, pouring down onto the ground below. The Ninjalino gurgled as it stared with wide quivering eyes at the slice, as bewildered as its spectators.

Time slowed and all the sound in the world was gone as Night Ninja staggered into a run, trembling as he screamed, “Marvin!”
The frail, leaking body dropped forwards and fell, as lifeless as a broken doll. Greg watched silently, his heart pounding in his throat, too stunned to move or even speak.

Night Ninja kneeled at the gate, clutching the Ninjalino tight as it fell into his welcoming arms. He shook uncontrollably as his once navy suit was engulfed in the red that didn’t seem to be slowing at all, let alone stop.
The villain tried desperately to gather and shove the excessive blood back into the small body, tears and grunts of panic falling from his face as he chanted that name over and over again, each cry becoming louder and more hysterical, until he broke down in one deafening, guttural screech that sent chills down Greg’s spine.

The Ninjalino holding Connor back dropped to the floor, its purple eyes blown in shock. It let go of the hero’s hands, not trying to restrain him as he broke from its grasp and sprinted over to Night Ninja. Amaya and Greg followed suit, knowing they had to help but dreading what they would find.

Chapter Text

He didn’t think it would be like this. No one had actually ever been truly injured, in any of their adventures. Or at least, not like this. There was never this much - well. Not as much blood, for one. He had always thought, if anyone got hurt badly, that he would feel the spectator’s numbness that characters felt in the movies and books, like the world had gone fuzzy. He had thought that it would be cinematic, dust swirling around them, light opening up from the clouds, maybe even an organ or some vocals too. God forbid the worst ever happened.

It was nothing like that fantasy, if you could call imagining what would happened if someone lost a limb or something ‘fantasy’. Nevertheless, he wished it were so, so much. The alternative was more like someone had left his senses perfectly intact as they messily sewed a pin made of thorns through his soul.

There were no organs, nor any choirs singing sad music. Everything was just devastatingly clear. He could feel, see hear, understand absolutely everything. The sound of gravel scraping underfoot as he stumbled in shock was louder than any numbness he might have felt. He was sure that between the cat stripe and then, the air had dropped by at least ten degrees, and must have been made of ice if the sharpness was anything to go by.

The scene kept replaying in his mind, over and over again, making his brain ache with the sheer volume of what had actually happened. Breathe through a tight throat, and the Ninjalino fell off the gate. Exhale that same breath, and Night Ninja was shrieking that same cry that made Greg want to shrivel up. Tense then un-tense his fingers, and Connor’s face was contorting in anger as he struck.

That last memory, Greg’s head played back and forth on repeat constantly, as if to yell look! Look what he’s done, he was supposed to be a hero! How can you follow him now?

He stuffed it down behind the overwhelming sound of his heartbeat, trying to ignore the lingering fear the thought left him with. Later, he promised himself with dread, later.

Greg’s pulse throbbed in his ears as he and Amaya unwillingly approached the nightmarish scene. His jaw was clamped tight and trembling, making his teeth chatter, and he felt a sudden immense claw of guilt reach up and pull on his heart. Like an old leaf, his dry tongue curled up with the putrid tang of vomit. The sounds and sights were so clear and sharp it hurt, and he bit down forcefully on his lip to trap the strangled noise he felt bubbling up as he resolved himself to just simply look.

Night Ninja was hunched over Marvin, shoulders shaking. His masked face was buried in the tiny neck as scratchy, wheezing sobs wrecked through his body. He was cradling and rocking the Ninjalino like a baby, shuddering every now and then. Greg felt another surge of sick rise up in his throat as he gazed helplessly into the unseeing eyes and sticky, dark mess smothering the gravel. It was like stinking, red spaghetti, but even that comparison felt cold and heartless next to the actual thing. No, it was something out of a horror movie; something that shouldn’t have ever existed in real life.

Greg was even more ashamed of the kind of nasty, selfish relief that the cleave itself was eclipsed by the dark, trembling blue torso. He looked desperately back at Amaya, praying that she at least would know what to do, only to find her face soggy with glistening tears as well.

He felt lost. He didn’t know what to do - how could he help? How could he stop the incessant bleeding, how could he make Night Ninja stop screaming those awful animalistic sounds he was sure to remember in his nightmares when his entire frame felt glued to the floor?

Someone bent down to place a hand hesitantly on Night Ninja’s shoulder; Greg’s peripherals were blurred and blinded by water, he didn’t know who. It was blue, so possibly Connor…

A sharp smack snapped through the still air like a balloon popping. Night Ninja had flailed wildly around at the contact, his palm catching Connor with a powerful hit on the face. Greg watched with as Connor tripped backwards, a discoloured mark blooming on his tan cheek. He was close to cowering beneath the look of raw fury in the ninja’s eyes.
Greg felt like he was quailing as well. He had never seen such rage in anyone.

“T-touch me?! You kill - you… I HATE YOU!” he roared sporadically, throat hoarse, heavy breaths quick and seething. His once impeccable front, with its bright pearly stars, were washed with a layer of crimson. It dripped disgustingly from him, some parts liquid and some thick and gelatinous like putty from a horror show.

Suddenly, the other Ninjalinos were by their brother’s side as Night Ninja crawled, stumbling back, pulling the limp body with him and cradling it back to his chest as if it would disappear if he ever let go. His wide stare flicked from Marvin’s face, to the now horrifically visible gash, to the Masks and back, shaking his head. Greg wondered in anguish if he thought that if he believed it enough it wouldn’t be true.

Stricken and confused, Greg mustered up every morsel of grit and determination before wrenching his mouth open and stepping forward, desperate to aid in any way he could, if anything was even possible. The heartbeat drilling in his ears was louder than ever but it still couldn’t mask the quiet cries of Amaya next to him nor the deep rasping sobs of Night Ninja, it still couldn’t take back what had happened.

Heart aching and head empty, he took in a breath to speak, starting at the pungent stench of open flesh leaking into the air. It smelt like mould and sewage, with the overpowering coppery scent of blood; it made him gag.

Night Ninja snarled and spat at him like a feral cat. “You call yourselves heroes?” he asked quietly, as the Ninjalinos hiccuped and sniffled behind him. There was a venom to his voice that Greg could never have imagined on anyone. “You sick nobs call yourselves heroes and d-do this? I…”

He fell down, half kneeling half laying at Marvin’s clearly dead body, tears falling and staining his suit like unstoppable rain. The endless cascade of blood had at long last slowed to a dribble, had maybe even ceased, as the little fighting heart finally gave in and puttered out. The silent crew of Ninjalinos advanced and lightly rested their hands on Night Ninjas body as, face pressed against the violet mask, he ninja teleported them away in a miserable puff of black smoke. It looked like the ashes blown from a burning thing.